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#it just hurts really bad that people who i know and love who are SO important to my feeling even a little safe at school
vaspider · 1 day
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Okay so someone shared this link on the server for the Chronicles of Darkness game I've been running since 2020 and I looked at the link and went 'yeah right' and then I read the article and went 'hunh' and then I watched the first three episodes of 'Knuckles,' which didn't take long because each episode is about half an hour long, and actually I fucking cried my eyes out at the big fight that is referenced because like... it's ... good, actually?
The show is very silly, and a lot of the humor is very childish, which makes a lot of sense, right, because it's about a fucking video game, but, at least so far, it's an extremely sincere show.
The siblings in this show act like highly exaggerated siblings. Of course adults wouldn't act like this, but it doesn't matter, because that's not really who the show is for. The show is for kids. It's goofy. The heart of sibling rivalry is there. The heart of hurting over a parent who abandoned you is there. The heart of a parent missing a family tradition is there.
The jokes that are made are made with love for Jewishness. Whoever made the food jokes has eaten a lot of gefilte fish and matzoh ball soup. Whoever wrote the episode understands how important it is that nothing puts out the Shabbat candles. Whoever wrote the episode understands the importance of minhagim -- the traditions that are unique to your family, to your synagogue, whatever.
Clearly they're not shomer Shabbos because their traditions include watching movies after Shabbat dinner, but that's not presented as them being Bad Jews -- it's just their family tradition, and that's just how it is.
Mom's bracha for the candles has the 'Adenoy' pronunciation which is so very New York Older Ashkenazi Jewish that it made my heart ache and made me powerfully homesick for the East Coast, since so many of the older people at my old shul used that specific pronunciation.
The fact that they literally centered a pair of Shabbas candles (with what are clearly kosher candles burning!!) in the fight, and the entire fight revolves around those candles? It just hit me right in the middle of the chest.
There's a difference between a show being silly and a show being insincere, and Knuckles is silly but it's not insincere. I will fully admit that I watched the first three episodes to get to the episode entitled The Shabbat Dinner, but you know... I might just finish the series? It's got heart, and all of the actors are clearly having such a good time. It's one of those projects that I refer to as a Summer Camp Show/Movie, where everybody's getting a nice paycheck and having a very good time and not taking themselves too seriously.
Plus, Christopher Lloyd made me laugh until I choked.
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pomefioredove · 3 days
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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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What do you think Dom Channie's favorite things to do to you are (w a fem y/n) if he was given a choice to do whatever?
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This is not an exhaustive list. The more I thought about it, the more ideas would come. I had to rein it in.
MDNI // SMUT
Video you masturbating in front of him. He’ll direct you to sit on his bed, leaning on his headboard. He keeps you dressed in your little black skirt and long socks. “That’s it babygirl. Open your legs for me.” He licks his lip as he hits record on his phone. He sits in his computer chair, pumping his cock with his free hand. “Now, pull your panties to the side. Show daddy your pretty little pussy… that’s it…just like that.” He’ll record you playing with yourself. Then he’ll do another of his favourite things…
Edge you. He stops you from playing with yourself once you’re close to climax, so he can climb on top of you, and push his fat cock into your tightness. He likes to squeeze inside you when you’re on the verge of coming because you’re so wet, swollen and engorged. You suck him in and grip him tight. He continues to video you, focusing now on your face now so he can capture your flushed cheeks and pornographic moans. “Such a good fucking girl. Who’s my pretty little personal porn star…hmm?”, “I should show this to the boys… they’ll probably fuck into their hands watching you.”
Finger fuck you in public. You’re only allowed to wear skirts and dresses so he has access to your pussy whenever he needs to feel you. He’s known to get you to spread your legs in the passenger seat of his car so he can slip his fingers into you while he drives. Too bad if you’re stopped next to a bus at traffic lights, because he’s not going to stop. He’ll wind the window down so if someone looks down from the window of the bus they’ll see it all. At the club he’ll get you to sit on his lap and finger fuck you the entire time. “You’re not going anywhere, babygirl. Not until you cream on my fingers”. Same at the movies. Your parents house at the dinner table. On a flight. On a train. Anywhere really.
Fuck you in department store changing rooms. He’s a sick fuck. He gets you to sample a perfume from the perfume section, then choose a pretty bra or skimpy outfit to try on… then he’ll slip into the change room and fuck you dumb against the mirror. “Listen to how wet you are…the people in the next cubicle know you’re being fucked like you’re a little cockslut.” If there’s a bench or seat in there he’ll get you to ride him. Of course the phone comes out to video you, propping it up in the corner and capturing you riding him. Then, when his done he gets you to return the clothes to the staff member manning the change rooms, knowing they heard the whole thing.
Adorns you with a ball gag and collar when he wants to fuck your ass. With your face pushed into the mattress, he takes his time to prep you properly. Then he fucks you from behind, spanking your ass hard with his hand as pounds into you. With your mouth gagged you can’t tell him to stop, and he won’t stop until he’s good and ready and you have tears streaming down your face.
Fuck your pussy no prep. As much as he loves to fuck you after he’s edged you, he also loves to bend you over the back of the couch, or table, or up against a wall, and push his cock into your cunt without much warning. He loves it because you love it. Your cunt feels so tight as your walls try to accommodate him. Turns out you love a bit of pain. And it turns him on hearing you struggle to take it. “Naww…It hurts doesn’t it, babygirl?” He’ll say as he continues to push further into you. You cry out of from the sting. You cry out because he pushes against your cervix. It’s like he’s not going to fit. But he makes it fit. All it takes is two thrusts and you’re soaking wet and then he can really fuck you hard. “Such a sick little girl, loves it when daddy hurts her.”
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @chansbabyg @kangnina
@itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics
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mcflymemes · 1 day
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CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.
who says i want somebody to be in love with me?
i don't want to fuck you to prove a point.
fuck me because you want to.
are you gonna do it or not?
tastes even better than it looks.
i just told you i missed you.
i really want to kiss you right now, but i'm worried that if i try, you'll think i'm the worst friend in the world.
you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself.
decimate that little bitch.
let's be honest, you gotta feel bad for the kid.
you're not a spring chicken anymore.
dude. he's a pancake. you're gonna flatten him.
how's this feeling?
we're ready for you.
so obviously this isn't the result you wanted today.
you choked.
i don't want you to embarrass yourself.
i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing.
get your fucking confidence back. i can't do it for you.
i'm so sick of you using this as an excuse to have a fucking meltdown.
you said we could watch a movie.
you're evil.
i'm gonna quiz you on it tomorrow.
sir, i don't know who you are.
i don't think we have much more to talk about.
i haven't spoken to you in five years.
i was just taking a little nap.
move, or i'm calling the cops.
you were really something back then, huh?
we always talked about how amazing it would be to win this together.
i'm a crazy person.
any predictions about how that's going to go?
can you do me a favor? can you not, like... demolish me tomorrow?
shut the fuck up.
if it matters to you so much, i can just give it to you.
i need it to look like i really beat you.
don't guilt me with your dying grandmother.
she's the hottest woman i've ever seen.
you were... fucking incredible.
baby, we've got to get going.
i'm not going to that party.
are you that threatened by me?
we can't both just go in there, dicks swinging.
i'd let her fuck me with a racket.
hey, do you smoke?
of course they will remember you.
see, that's your problem. you think you're like an artist or something.
you just want to win because you love it when people tell you how talented you are.
are you on facebook?
i told you tennis was boring.
you just got this crazy look on your face.
are you on a date?
i don't kiss and tell.
why did you want to have dinner with me?
i think you might be the worst friend in the world.
i didn't know you were so concerned about my feelings.
of course you still have a thing for her.
we just had what i'm assuming is the best sex of our lives.
i fucked your brains out?
what do you think you need? a cheerleader? a fuck buddy? a girlfriend?
you're talented, you're charming, and you've got a big dick.
excuse me for inconveniencing you.
don't expect to sleep here tonight.
stop going easy on me.
i'll be whatever you need me to be. i'll fuck off if you want me to.
i need you here, actually.
you're referring to when i declared my love for you.
you're not in love with me anymore?
i've been dreaming about this for five years.
i'm gonna propose something to you, and it's gonna make you angry. it's gonna make you very angry. but you have to hear me out, okay?
i'm finally ready to listen to you.
how dare you fucking ask me that.
do you think it's cute what you're doing? do you think it's funny?
that's the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.
i've always wanted you.
you didn't do anything to me. i did it all to myself.
i think i've reached the limit of my willingness to have this conversation with you.
do you understand how embarrassing it is that you're here?
you've never beaten me.
tell me it doesn't matter.
will you just hold me?
i'm not here to fuck you.
i miss watching you play. you were so beautiful.
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wisefoxluminary · 2 days
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Based on the lyrics that have been translated from the duet, I will do a mini analysis of where Stolitz are at in this episode and what it says about their relationship as a whole. The title of this song I assume is called When I see him tonight and it says a lot about where Stolas and Blitz are regarding their feelings. 
Stolas loves Blitz dearly. He is singing about when he is with Blitz, he can hide the pain of his fucked up life behind a careless smiling front because he thinks that's what Blitz would want. He doesn't want to hear about his divorce. He isn't here to listen to him bare his soul but he just wants him to be with him through all the good and the bad. Stolas is coming to terms with the fact he loves Blitz but he knows he has to let him go. He feels like he is hurting Blitz by keeping him a prisoner in this arrangement and doesn't want to make it seem like he's a burden. He wants to give him the choice whether to stay or go but he knows if he does that, he'll lose him forever. He'll be alone without any love in his life and he thinks he'll die because of it just like Blitz did after the altercation at Ozzie's. He can't decide whether what he's doing is right or wrong but he wants to believe that he can still have this. That he can still have a sweet relationship with Blitz but he knows eventually it'll only fall apart because the only way Blitz can truly be set free is by giving him the crystal. Stolas thinks this is what's best. He wants to give him the decision to let go rather than set boundaries between them.
As for Blitz, he is the most naive out of the pair. He isn't really good with words and opening up about his feelings as he can't really say if their relationship is going strong. He wants to believe they are doing okay together but a part of him knows it's a complicated arrangement and can't bring himself to talk about the pain he may inflict on Stolas. So instead he buries it all away for sex because he thinks that's the only thing he wants. The only thing that will get his attention. To look his way, so to speak. He wants to believe that everything is going fine and he seems excited to see him again. He is singing about all the nasty things he's going to do to his owl prince during sex because he is intent on impressing Stolas because he thinks that by avoiding the subject of their feelings, they can be happy and not have to get themselves hurt. Blitz thinks this is not only the best for Stolas, but also himself because he likes where he stands in this relationship. He doesn't want to let go of this relationship and by indulging the bird in sex, he'll still have him.
The way they are singing also tells us a lot about their stance of their relationship. Blitz is rapping throughout the duet as he isn't really good with words. He gets himself hyped for this date by thinking of all the ways he'll fuck him as that's where he is at the most happiest. As for Stolas, he sings with a dramatic broadway grandure because this is the biggest decision of his life. He is about to let Blitz, the love of his life go and he can't decide whether he is doing what is best for them or himself. He loves Blitzø. That's why it pains him to make this decision. The song starts with him singing happily in the bath about how he's so excited to see him. Getting himself prepared clean and proper but when the thought of Blitz coming over settles in, he is scared shitless about screwing up with what they have as he is scared of leaving their relationship in tatters, hence the mess of his living room and the fridge. Blitz remains optimistic as he gets himself ready for a night of sex and pleasure because he knows that's what Stolas likes and where he is most good at when showing people he loves them/what he likes. He causes a stir, he shouts out from the rooftops that he is in love with Stolas. He announces it to the world because he wants to share his happiness with everyone who cares to hear it. He feels happy with Stolas and he wants nothing to ever change.
So here's my analysis of the Full Moon duet and Stolitz heading into the new episodes as a whole. Do I believe they will fall apart? Probably. Will they reconcile? Most definitely. But if I missed anything, feel free to add more.
Link to original post - https://www.tumblr.com/visemes/748954138058113024/stolitz-duet-lyrics?source=share
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maybege · 2 days
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What If - Part 3
Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.
Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader
Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love
Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol
Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.
There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.
The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.
But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.
Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.
For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.
“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”
You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.
“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”
Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”
He shook his head fervently.
“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.
True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.
“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.
“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.
“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”
You hummed in acknowledgement.
“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”
He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.
“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.
“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”
He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.
“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”
That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”
“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”
The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”
Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,
“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”
Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)
“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.
“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”
“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“
“Who do we have here?”
“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.
“You are – He is – What –“
“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”
You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.
Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.
The thought made you feel strangely queasy.
“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”
“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.
“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.
“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.
“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”
“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”
“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”
“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”
“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.
“Did you sleep well?”
You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”
His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”
“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”
Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.
“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”
“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”
*
The ship offered no privacy.
While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.
This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.
The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.
“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.
Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.
You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.
Your alpha.
You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.
You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.
Fuck, you were needy for him.
“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”
You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.
“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.
He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”
“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.
And you did not want to have it any other way.
You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”
“Wh-What?”
“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”
“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.
“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”
Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.
“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”
Of course, you did. And he knew it.
With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.
You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.
As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.
And worry about other things.
“What if someone sees?”
“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”
Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.
Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.
Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”
You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.
Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.
Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.
“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”
His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.
With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.
It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.
You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.
“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”
Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.
You wanted this man to be your alpha.
Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.
“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”
“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”
“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”
“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”
He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.
“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”
Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.
“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.
He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”
“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”
“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”
*
You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.
“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”
You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.
As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.
It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.
But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.
The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.
You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.
Briggs called them idiots.
But Paz was not an idiot.
Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.
And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.
“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”
You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.
“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”
You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”
“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”
You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?
With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.
The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.
“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.
You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.
“You know you cannot intervene.”
“Chants –“
“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.
A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.
However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.
Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.
It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.
You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.
But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.
“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”
Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.
“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.
“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”
That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”
“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”
“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”
“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”
“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.
“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”
“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”
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zeroducks-2 · 12 hours
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Do you really think reverse flash is in love with Barry? I don't mean for this to sound snarky I'm just confused. Thawne killed Barry's mom how can you say he's in love with him? I like all the things you post and rb about them I really enjoy the ship. I just don't get it can you explain?
The question "how can Eobard be in love with Barry if he hurt him" has both a short answer and a long answer. The short answer is that people are very much capable of hurting the ones they love, on purpose or by accident.
The long answer is that Eobard is a deeply disturbed individual who has never been the recipient of love, and because of that and of many extremely traumatic events (including but not limited to being brainwashed in prison, being trapped in a timeless limbo alone for years, being tortured and treated like cattle and put in sensory deprivation for ludicrous amounts of time, dying at the hands of the only person who had ever shown compassion towards him), he has a skewed perception of a lot of things and is extremely bad at emotional regulation.
Moreover, and this is something which is easy to overlook but it's actually very important, Eobard is not human. His actions are informed by his traumas, but the way he approaches pretty much everything (including his "problems" with Barry) isn't done the way a human would.
Eobard is a timeless, deathless creature which embodies one of the driving forces of reality itself (the Negative Speed Force). He lived probably more than a few hundred years considering how he keeps running around through time doing stuff, and how he keeps going back to watch past events and adjust the way he will interact with the timeline next.
He knows the huge impact that killing Nora will have on Barry, but from a moral and ethical standpoint it's not a big deal for him. Nora is less than a speck in time, an NPC who served her role for that briefest moment in which she existed. She is a big deal because she is a big deal for Barry, not because she's meaningful in any other way.
"But then he did want to hurt Barry when he killed her" Yes, absolutely he wanted to. Eobard didn't "just" kill Nora Allen - he went back in time and changed everything about Barry's life, made it so he had no friends, made him grow isolated and insecure and shy, lacking confident in his abilities. And he did it because he is very, VERY angry with Barry for one, and also because isolating Barry makes it easier for them to grow closer.
And it worked! Back in the Silver Age, when Nora and Henry were alive and not in prison, Barry couldn't be bothered with Eobard. For him Eo was just a random criminal with superspeed, and sure he was threatening because speedsters always are, but not that much of a big deal.
Now? Now Eobard is a primary element in Barry's life, a constant he's had to deal with basically since birth, someone who rewritten his entire life to make himself part of it in an indelible manner.
It worked because now Barry is more likely to fall for Eobard's manipulation, to listen to him, to just accept that he's THERE because he's always been. Near the end of Running Scared, Eobard tells him "run away with me", and Barry says yes.
Back in the Silver Age there would have been no way.
It's worth mentioning that to understand Eobard, you need to understand that everything he does, every single thing, has the end goal of being with Barry. Whether he's trying to protect him or trying to hurt him or trying to manipulate him, whether they manage to work together against a common enemy or they're on opposite sides of the fight, every single one of Eobard's actions is motivated by love (his personal, inhuman version of love).
"But if that is the case, then why doesn't he just tell Barry 'I love you'?"
Two reasons, and one is meta.
The in-story reason is that every time Eobard tried to do something good without masking it as horrible, it went sideways and backfired spectacularly - mix that with poor emotional regulation, and you have someone who's not going to be able to handle rejection and is outright scared of doing good things openly. I think if he told Barry "I love you" and Barry reacted badly it would hurt too much. Also he wants Barry to understand, and thanks to a couple of competent writers who sadly don't work on Flash anymore, we were getting there.
The meta reason is because DC is homophobic, plain and simple. Eobard DID SAY I love you many times except with words, because DC editorials won't let him. That's it. It's the same reason why Joker can't tell Batman "I love you" and has to do weird ass word plays and even more weird ass attention seeking maneuvers. They're stunted by reasons which no one but DC itself can control.
So in short. How can Eobard be in love with Barry and hurt him so much at the same time? Because he doesn't have many ways of express love, he has a hard time being caring, and every time he allows himself to be soft it backfires. Because he wants Barry to belong to him and will isolate him and make him suffer to get there. Because he's angry with Barry -- Barry hurt him too, rejected him and left him alone and refused to accept that Eobard is his lightning rod for a long time.
Eobard easily lashes out when he's hurt, and the less grounded he is the more vicious and violent he turns.
"But Zero, how can Eobard think that Barry will ever forgive him for having killed his mom?"
I don't believe Eobard was ever looking for forgiveness, but fun fact. Barry did forgive him already. Barry is not human either, and at this point I think he'd forgive Eobard just about anything, and despite how difficult everything is between them, he really wants to get to a place where they don't need to hurt each other.
The problem with this, and it's one of the reasons why they have so many issues communicating, is that Barry is in denial about many things - about being the Speed Force, about Eobard being in love with him, about how they're two constants through time and two sides of the same coin and basically can't exist without each other, about how they're each other's lightning rod.
Their relationship is very complex, absolutely not what it looks like at first glance, and it's colored by all the hurt there is between them. But again, ultimately understanding Eobard is understanding that love is what motivates him, even when he does the most horrible unhinged things.
In conclusion, have this panel from The Flash Age which is one of my favorite Flash comics, in which you can see the way these two manage to trust each other and fall into the right rhythm, despite the oceans of misunderstandings and suffering between them.
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Pages from The Flash Age, by Joshua Williamson. In which Barry tells Eobard to "do the right thing", and Eobard just does it.
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 21 hours
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Xan you pls so some nash sad headcanons?
of course<3. may be shorter than my other sad hcs cause i'm currently sick. i might make some more when i feel better. small, small trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, self harm, and tobias hawthorne. hope you enjoy!
he's obviously extremely protective of his brothers. so much that, when skye or tobias got mad at one of them, nash would convince them it was his fault so they wouldn't hurt his brothers' feelings
this is less of a head canon cause he mentioned this in tbh, but nash is convinced that everyone will someday leave him, and that he'll end up alone.
although tobias and skye hurt him a lot (verbally, they didn't hit him obviously), he had to pretend he was fine all of the time for his brothers. they thought he was a disappointment because he didn't act like a 'real' hawthorne. he didn't tell anyone.
the pressure he puts on himself sometimes becomes too much. so much that he's considered ending his life by jumping off of a bridge/overdosing on smth.
high school was extremely tough for him but no one knew. he felt like he had the world on his shoulders and couldn't speak to anyone about it. his grades would start going down (mind you, they were still great), and tobias would get mad at him. he'd try extra hard to succeed, and he did, but at the cost of his mental health
the reason why he has a savior complex is bc he wishes he could've saved his brothers from everything that tobias did to them. it became even worse after emily. he thinks it was his responsibility to warn them and help them. he know thinks he has to save everyone to make up for it.
nash thinks of himself as a complete failure. so much that sometimes simply looking in the mirror makes him cry.
this one will sound corny but he saves everyone but himself (he doesn't think he deserves to feel better)
he puts everyone's needs in front of his own. he sometimes doesn't eat, sleep, etc just to help his family. (he ended up in the hospital once cause he passed out due to malnutrition)
when nash was younger, he wanted his father in his life so badly he would go beg tobias to tell him his name. he wanted someone who would be there for him bc no one else was.
he used to think there was smth wrong with him bc he wasn't like his other brothers. at the same time, he knew it was partly bc he knew how messed up his grandfather was, but he still wished he could be like the others/accepted.
tobias used to tell him that he was extremely disappointed in him all the time. tobias wanted him to take care of more than he could take. tobias didn't actually care if it took everything out of nash, he just didn't want to take care of everyone else himself.
tobias used to hear him cry at night but didn't do shit to help him. he thought that nash had to toughen up (he was like 13)
nash doesn't like letting other people do things for him bc it makes him hate himself even more. he feels bad when people take on what he thinks is his responsibility. at the same time, it makes him cry cause it makes him feel loved.
he gets mad at himself bc he thinks he's overreacting all the time. he tells himself other people have it worse and that he has no right to complain when he has such a good life.
in high school, he was actually in some pretty sketchy friend group. they took drugs and stuff and got him into it. nash never got addicted, but he now takes drugs when everything becomes too much for him.
in my jamie head canons, i said that he hits punching bags until his hands start bleeding (and even that doesn't stop him sometimes). i think the same goes for nash. he wouldn't self harm in a way that made it obvious to himself that he was harming himself. he'd do it in 'subtle' ways that he could convince himself weren't self harm.
his hands are really messed up for multiple reasons. the boxing and the fact that whenever something goes wrong, he bites his nails and the skin around them.
(idk if this one is even possible, but i'm on the verge of falling asleep and want to finish this) when he fails to save someone, he'll stuff his head in a pillow/in his cowboy hat to cut off oxygen. it kind of brings him back to the present when he starts spiraling.
he has really bad anxiety and actually takes pills to deal with it. all of his responsibilities and stuff weigh him down a lot.
he does so much for others that when he got together with libby and she started doing things for him, he'd actually cry. she'd make him breakfast and he'd tell her it was too much.
he used to have trichotillomania (mental health condition that involves irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows, or other areas of your body). over time he got better, but sometimes it comes back when his anxiety is really bad.
he used to make his mom drawings and gifts in hope of getting her attention (she never cared). he used to think it was because his drawings weren't good enough, so he'd try again and again until he realized he was the problem.
nash personally blames himself for all of the pain tobias caused people (like lyra and stuff). for some reason, he thinks he should've stopped him somehow even though that's impossible.
he used to come home really scraped up because he'd get into fights for his brothers whenever someone was mean to them or hurt them. he has some permanent scars on his body bc of the fights, but he still thinks he should've done more.
whenever nash does something he deems 'wrong' he hears tobias' voice in his head telling him he's a failure.
a happy nash head canon to finish this off:
nash, as a kid, loved ducks. he would head to ponds to feed them, and he owned like 294810 books on ducks. he had tiny duck figurines in his bedroom (and still does). he used to make short videos about them and his little trips to the pond with his camera.
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Text
we play with fire because we like the way it burns
a mob boss!Nico x nurse!fem!reader au
Movie night, ruined
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Warnings: blood, Luke injured, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, some swearing and calling someone a dumbass, this is a mob au. Please tell me if I missed something
A/n: it’s here! The first installment. I hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
Word count: 1.2k
You were worried.
Luke Hughes was not known to be the most punctual, but he was never this late.
As far as you knew, this was his only plan for the night. So why hasn’t he called or texted?
It was just supposed to be a routine movie night. You, Luke, and a movie you’ve seen so many times. Tonight’s pick was Valentine’s Day since you saw New Year’s Eve around the new year, and it just made sense. To you two, anyway.
Luke was hours late. You were about to start getting ready for bed, tired of waiting on the couch. He could just apologize in the morning once you got sleep.
As you were collecting the snacks off the coffee table, there was a knock on your door.
Who was knocking on your door at this hour?
You quickly put the things in your hands back down so you could answer the door.
As Luke always insisted, you looked through the peephole. He hated that your building didn’t have a doorman, so he got you in the habit of checking the peephole.
You were not prepared to see Luke slung around the shoulders of Jack and another guy, barely able to stand up himself.
You swung the door open rapidly, ushering the three men to come inside before the neighbors started asking questions. God forbid Nancy saw anything and spread the news like wildfire.
Once you got a better look at the three, you realized Nico was the other man holding up Luke.
“What the fuck happened?!?” You practically shouted at them.
“Do you really want to know? Or do you just want to fix him?” Jack spoke up before his boss could say anything.
You rolled your eyes in a huff, but gestured to the couch. “Sit him up on the couch and make sure he doesn’t lose consciousness. Jack, get water from the kitchen. You, make sure Luke stays upright. He can’t fall asleep. Not yet.”
Jack had a nervous look on his face because you bossed around the most feared man in the city, but he rushed to get water despite not having gone that far into your apartment before.
“I’ll be right back,” you told Nico before rushing to get your primary first aid kit.
When you returned, you had to speak up and say the one thing you were dreading. “What happened and how did he get hurt?”
Nico was about to answer, but Jack spoke up from the kitchen instead. “Where the fuck are your cups and why are they this hard to find?”
Yet another eye roll from you. “Just grab a bottle from the fridge,” you yelled back.
“Dumbass,” you muttered under your breath. You loved Luke like a brother but that didn’t mean you felt the same way about his brother.
You turned back to Luke to assess the damage. Multiple cuts on his face and body. Luckily, no gunshots. You honestly weren’t sure you would be able to help if he had gotten shot.
Jack came back to the living room and set the bottle on the table and proceeded to stay out of your way while still looking out for his little brother. Their mother would kill him if she found out just how injured the baby Hughes was.
You grabbed the iodine and some cotton pads, mentally preparing to make your best friend endure more discomfort than he already was.
“Luke, I’m sorry that this is going to sting, but I need to clean your wounds,” you said gently.
Luke just grumbled, so you proceeded after telling Nico to make sure to hold Luke still.
“I’ll start with your arms and work my way to your face. Please don’t hate me for this,” you said gently, using your nurse voice reserved for telling people that something bad has happened.
Luke flinched a little once you started cleaning his wounds. It proceeded to get worse, and your patience also got progressively worse.
“Luke if you do not stop squirming, I swear to god I will duct tape you to a chair and tell your mother about your weekend in Atlantic City,” you said in a very angry tone, sick of Luke’s shit.
Nico looked slightly confused, while Luke and Jack both had looks of “oh shit” on their faces.
Jack proceeded to sit on Luke’s other side to make sure he stayed still.
“We do not need mom knowing about what happened,” Jack said as Luke nodded as best as he could.
You proceeded to finish disinfecting every wound on your best friend’s body and add antibiotic cream to each one, finishing the worse wounds with bandages and letting the smaller ones breathe.
“Luke, I’m gonna grab you one of your spare outfits for you to wear so you can sleep comfortably. Couch or guest room?” You asked him, honestly not knowing if he would make it to the guest room.
“Couch,” he mumbled.
You scurried off to grab some sweats and a shirt for Luke from his designated drawer in your room.
You tossed the clothes at Jack once you made it back to the living room, “make sure he gets into these. I’ll clean up.”
You proceeded to gather up the first said kit while Jack helped Luke change and Nico just sat, not knowing what to do.
“Do you need help cleaning up?” Nico finally spoke to you, and if you weren’t so concerned with Luke, you may have had more time to admire him.
“Uh. No. I think I’m good. I’ve dealt with worse messes,” you said, not stopping what you were doing.
You put all the supplies back and slipped into the kitchen to get yourself your own bottle of water, giving Jack time to get Luke dressed.
As you finally had a moment to breathe and think, you realized you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Luke hurt and not do anything about it.
After some time passed, Jack called out that Luke was successfully changed.
Walking back to the living room, you spoke up. “Call me immediately the next time he or someone else gets injured. I’ve seen enough questionable injuries at the hospital to know that I am your best option to avoid police questioning. Jack, you have my number. And please, for the love of all that is holy, stop doing dumb shit.”
You barely gave Jack time to respond before you spoke up again. “Now leave so Luke can rest. I’ll give you an update in the morning.”
Nico and Jack got up from their spots on your couch and proceeded to leave, you locking the door behind him.
You turned back to Luke and were worried about how the night was going to go.
“Can I have my blanket?” He asked weakly.
“Of course,” you said as you moved to grab it from its spot in your blanket basket.
You helped Luke lay down and get comfortable with the blanket tucked around him.
“Yell for me if you need anything, my door will be open,” you said before getting up to go back to your room. “Goodnight, Luke.”
“Goodnight, y/n,” Luke said with his eyes already closed.
You got ready for bed and were finally able to lay down and relax.
So why couldn’t you stop thinking about Nico?
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dark-elf-writes · 14 hours
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Master of death Harry at UA who accidentally summons Oboro’s ghost and doesn’t get why Shota and Hizashi are crying but doesn’t say anything as they cry
I read this as MoD Harry as a student doing this which makes this funnier and also more heartbreaking.
Like Harry leaving after the battle and needing to do something different, something that doesn’t involve a castle of ghosts and the memory of blood on his hands and screams in his ears, he ends up, through a letter sent to him at exactly the right moment courtesy of Nezu (and how he managed to get a letter delivered to an unplayable address Harry isn’t sure he wants to know), as the oldest member of 1-A.
He doesn’t really know what to claim as a quirk because his magic is fucked and telling people is illegal but then he summons a ghost (the previous tenant of his apartment who had a heart attack and Merlin he is going to have words with his realtor) literally the night before and decides “Necromancer” is close enough. Besides the dead flock to him now (had they always?) whether he wants them to or not, it’s only fair that he gets something out of it other than a terrible sleep schedule and the world’s first anti-ghost ward outside his bathroom.
And UA has no shortage of ghosts. Students, alumni, and former teachers alike follow Harry’s every step from the moment he enters the gates a day before everyone else (for a meeting with his new teachers to “see where he places due to his unique circumstances” which sounded like kind way to say “we know you have a year four education in non magical subjects”) but one in particular shoos the others away with a smile and whisper of… something herding them off. He doesn’t fully manifest, invisible to everyone but Harry, as he follows his steps.
“Hey, kid, you’re the transfer right?”
If Harry was less used to ghosts he would be a little offended about being called “kid” by someone who looked the same age as him, but Ghosts were frozen as how they were when they died. For better or worse.
At least when around Harry they didn’t show their death wounds. Instead appearing whole and unblemished.
The meeting room was full when Harry entered, the ghost at his shoulder, and he fought the urge to check for exits. He didn’t need a window to get away with his magic, didn’t think any of the people here were strong enough to stop him if he wanted to leave, quirks or no, not since he had collected the hallows and everything changed.
“Er, hello.”
Well, maybe not everything changed.
Several of the teachers smile, one with the most ridiculous hairstyle he has ever seen beaming particularly brightly, but it was Nezu that drew his eye.
Nezu who smiled at him and gestured to where a steaming cup of tea waited at the empty space on the table. “Potter-kun. How lovely it is to meet you in person.”
Harry had barely made it to table when he felt the familiar yank of his power slipping the leash — less common now but always at the worst moments — and a moment later the ghost still following him gasped as color flooded him.
Huh. His hair was blue. Teddy would like that.
The blond teacher stood so quickly their chair flipped behind them followed by two others wide eyed and disbelieving as they stared at the ghost. The ghost who watched them with eyes just as wide, wiggling his fingers and gasping when their eyes followed the movement.
“You can see me?!”
Harry froze, not daring to breathe. Fuck this was bad, but the question was how bad.
Then one of the teachers, the woman who Harry was very careful to not look below her shoulders, sobbed.
Right… this was… not a great way to start a new school. “Traumatize your professors” was usually a term four activity for him not before school had officially started. Still it couldn’t hurt to let them talk for a while. He could always send the ghost away if things went south… probably… maybe… eventually.
Harry sank into his seat and drained his tea in one long swallow. This was going to be along day.
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sceirlose · 21 hours
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I feel like all the Skittles have SOME sort of weird thing that's going on with them. Tw mentions of blood and dissecting
Barty is batshit crazy. Wild, messy, and all over the place. Almost terrifying. He makes ur mom jokes and threatens to kill or hurt or fuck someone who's messing with him. He also learned how to do his own tatoos and piercings, thats why he has a new tattoo or piercing every month. He finds it fun and silly to be stabbing his ear and shoving a piercing through it, likes the sting cause it gives him adrenaline
And there's Pandora who says the most out of pocket shit. She has weird visions sometimes and seems to be everywhere and knows everything. And she's so incredibly calm while saying the wildest shit ever that it scares some people. People never hear her footsteps, and she just shows up randomly. Her voice is so calm and peaceful that it really doesn't fit her liking in scary creatures
Then Evan, who is just as off-putting as his sister. Unlike Barty, who is chaotic, he's more reserved and calm. But sometimes does creepy stuff and acts like it's normal. He is weirdly fascinated with disecting humans and animals. Also has a weird interest in teeth and dead animal corpses. He probably learned how to preserve them somehow. He has a like thing where dead butterflies are stuck to and he wakes up everyday to admire it as a way to start his day.
Dorcas has an interest in lucid dreaming and shifting and all things psychological. Sometimes she'll say stuff like "oh I sent a message to you in your dreams, you got it, right?" Most of the time, you probably won't get it, but it happens sometimes. Mostly to the slytherin Skittles and Marlene. She also learned to do nonverbal spells earlier in her years because it helps give her more control over her own mind. She has definitely learned and did research on why the imperius curse does what it does to its victims
And Regulus, though never to admit out loud, fucking loves astrology. He learned about it through Pandora, and since then he's been doing astrological readings. He just finds it cool how something like a time of birth, the position of a planet, the moon phase of your birth, and all can say a lot about a person.
Anyways it might not fit some characters but it's how I think of them and I love them this way cause imagine like Pandora walking up to Barty and say "certain plants can bloom above dead corpses" and Barty suggests that they have to see it happen for themselves
Or Dorcas coming up reg like "did you get my message?" And Regulus said "yeah, it's written in the stars that your relationship will go well don't worry and stop pestering me in my dreams"
Or Barty making a new piercing and Evan suggesting that he should make a piercing out of one of his insects legs and Barty was really close to doing it before Reg stopped them
Or Regulus catching squirrels for Pandora to keep in her little squirrel cage and have as a pet that'll probably die because Evan keeps feeding it the wrong food
Sometimes, the Skittles all get hurt except for Dorcas, and she says stuff like "yeah because the universe is protecting me. I'm their favourite mortal"
Barty getting slightly unsettled and maybe a bit flustered when he sees Evan so focused on learning how to use his new dissecting tool, just tweaking it here and there for his own liking yk
Regulus in a bad mood cause today's horoscope says that it's going to be shit.
Yeah they're weird
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dufferpuffer · 1 day
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What do you think lupin needs in a romantic partner to have a functioning/healthy relationship (as healthy as this man can manage atleast)? What qualities would this person have to have to be able to deal with all the more challenging aspects of being in a relationship with him? But also what does he want in a partner? And what would he absolutely not want?
Me. I am perfect. Remus Lupin hmu
Remus Romantic Partner pt1: Remus is needy Link to pt2: Remus is good (aint done it yet sorry)
In short: Remus Lupin needs an ANCHOR POINT to harbor his ship. 1. Someone interesting he can pour his attention into. 2. Generally up-beat/optimistic, so he has warmth to lean on. 3. Bold enough to be themselves - even if they're different. 4. Kind and accepting of other people 5. A little 'cute'. 'Quirky'. Small 'issues' support. (just a bonus, really) 6. Independent. Can live without him just fine but still want him. 7. Emotionally strong. Immense maturity and stability. 8. Doesn't have much temper, doesn't start drama or fights. Of course he doesn't need ALL of these boxes ticked - but the highlighted ones are the closest to a MUST for the relationship to even have a chance at being healthy. In long: Explanations (and example characters who I think fit) are below. B^)
Remus is an introverted man. He isn't shy (he can take charge of a room, he can speak publicly, he is good at getting people to like him) but when he isn't the focus he is a wall-flower. He doesn't talk much unless he has something to say. He is deeply, irreparably self-conscious. He has trauma of unintentionally hurting those he loves, so he keeps his distance.
((His parents became sick with the stress of having to move house every few months, find new work every few months, keeping their bank account drained... socially isolated with a son they had to lock away every Full Moon - lest he killed them. They loved him but that was a difficult thing for Remus to grow up witnessing, knowing he was the cause. Knowing him leaving for Hogwarts was the best thing to happen for their health since he was bitten... Of course he pushes people away. He can't help being sick - but he can help them not suffer... if he stays away.))
He is always thinking inwardly. He is always anxious. He wonders how he can make himself smaller, friendlier, less scary… Trying to plan how he wants others to relate to him. He tries to control how others think of him, to steer them away from the bad things... He is a wolf in wizards clothing. If he treats everyone as dolls to manipulate, and if they never know the real him... it will hurt everyone less when he leaves.
1. He needs someone who can bust him out of that toxic mindset. Someone that grabs his attention and pulls it away from himself. Someone interesting, skilled, passionate - living a life he can't achieve. Someone with knowledge or stories he can listen to at length and live a little through them... or they can even include him. More of a talker so he can be a listener, so he can focus on someone else's world - but they're also eager to hear whatever he has to say without prying. They aren't arrogant or loud: they can listen, too. Remus needs good, witty conversation over a cup of tea.
2. They need to be generally up-beat, but not in a way that'll crush his down-beat. They invite him to join in if he wants - or else lean on them like they're a heater for his troubled soul while he feels down. Sometimes he will feel bad, or flat, or tired - and they can't fix it.
I don't think he has any visual preferences. What he notices first about people are their mannerisms. He is always shaping himself to fit the room, so I think he admires people who act authentically: Boldness. Bravery. Honesty. Earnestness. Brashness. So... 3. He would be more attracted to people of subcultures and/or strong interests - or are simply out-of-the-expected-norm. I think he would be fascinated about these little nooks of belonging - alternate 'normal's' when the Wizarding world can be so rigid. (Do I think he has a preference for LGBTQIA+? Yeah. General androgyny too.)
4. Kind. Accepting. They need to be kind to others in general. Because he can't always be kind to others. He puts himself first and sometimes that hurts because he WANTS to be more kind. A partner who can pick up the slack? Who he can trust to always be kind and accepting of him - because they are such a way with everyone...? That's just a requirement, really.
5. A small thing I think he likes in particular: A cute factor. A little clumsy, A little slow, Enthusiastic, Awkward, Weak, A bit short/tall... something that isn't an issue but will pop up every now and then, distract him and make him go '...cute. That was cute.' Something he can effortlessly support. Something he can be thoughtful about, thinking of their needs rather than his own. - They struggle to read quickly? He can read out loud for them. - They tend to act impulsively? He can hold them back just enough to let them to give it a second thought. - They struggle in social situations? So he can talk on their behalf. - They keep fumbling and tripping over? He can keep them steady. It's nice to feel useful and kind in a simple, effortless way. Something so obvious to proves he isn't bad at heart - even when he feels awful.
6. They need to be Independent. What he CAN'T have is someone who NEEDS him. Oh god, the pressure… He cant be trapped. He requires a high level of independence... because he WILL FAIL. He WILL leave and break their heart over nothing. He WILL make promises he doesn't intend to keep - because he intends to run away and never look back. If they NEED him, just to stay afloat…? It will break him. He can't be the bread-winner, even if he could have a stable job. He can't be a long-term emotional support, only short-term. He needs to know that WHEN he breaks down and fucks off not 'if' - even if it's FOREVER… that they will be okay without him. 'Not being ok without him' won't make him stay. He will not 'shape up under a bit of pressure'. It will only injure him.
7. He needs someone strong enough to be forgiving. Not a self-harming, forcing yourself to forgive-and-forget either. That is a very real danger with Remus: If he got with someone who was as much a people-pleasing self-depreciator as him…? He will tear them to shreds. He is a toxic man and he requires tough gloves to handle:- Genuinely emotionally strong. Someone he can lean on, far more than they lean on him. - Wise enough to see through his bullshit manipulations and lies - with enough tact to navigate them, understanding he struggles without judgement but holding him gently accountable. - Empathetic enough to understand him even when he can't explain himself properly. - Mature enough to hold him accountable. Can help him understand how he can do better. He is filled with shame - sometimes for very good reasons that need addressing.
He will go through periods of being unable to be contacted, periods of self-endangerment… He needs somewhere, someone, he can crawl back to in shame. Who WILL talk with him seriously about things… but is willing to just let him sleep quietly for the night in their arms, for now. (Am I saying he needs to date a therapist? Yeah, basically. Dating Remus isn't easy.)
8. Doesn't start fights. Doesn't lash out. Doesn't live off of drama. Remus fits himself into situations passively - he doesn't need someone making situations more difficult to feel comfortable in. If they get angry and yell at him - he will yell one hurtful thing back and leave. He has a very limited ability withstand tension. He tries to keep a level head and a level room - he needs a partner who will support those efforts, or at least not sabotage them.
Partners I think have good chemistry, for examples:
NYMPHADORA TONKS. It is annoying how perfectly she has been made to fit Remus' needs, as she is so underutilized. I wouldn't find her as frustrating if she got more fleshing out in ways that weren't the specific things suited to being with Remus… ugh. - She is a skilled Auror, especially for her age. - She lightens the mood of any room by being playful. - She is unapologetic in being herself, accepting people with ease. - She is a bit clumsy - but capable and hugely independent. - Her ability to roll with the punches is insane: every time Remus is hot-and-cold she has both the ability to hold him responsible for how much it hurts and the strength to still stand there for him. - She is firey and doesn't back down, but she isn't trying to start fights. She's just stubborn and confident in what she has to say. To make claims like 'Remus only likes her because she can shapeshift' or whatever is just... no, its because she is perfect for him.
LUNA LOVEGOOD. Surprising, I know. Perhaps in different circumstances they could have hit it off. - Strong interests, a subculture at the edge of Wizarding society yet she is always 'uniquely' and brazenly herself. - Optimistic and up-beat... a little dreamy, air-headed, focus could use some steering sometimes. - Helpful and kind to all, even those that have been mean to her. - Very used to being alone. Independent in body and soul. Quite comfortable being alone - but friends are nice, too. - Emotional strength is a specialty of hers. Even in the worst situations she keeps her head on her shoulders and, despite how aloof she appears, is intelligent, sharp and serious. - Can make demands when she needs to - not a pushover. Bonus: An interest in magical creatures, too. :)
Close, but I think have a large flaw (that might makes them spicy):
SEVERUS SNAPE - Potions Master. Dark Arts specialist. Veteran teacher. All the steady employment and deep, fascinating interests Remus wishes he could have - along with ALSO having been a Spy... and being misunderstood. They have more in common than they don't. - He isn't optimistic, but he is a problem solver, dedicated to making things better than they are. He faces problems head on while Remus would rather curl away. - He understands feeling quiet and low. He might not be warm, but he is a softer place to rest than you'd expect. - He has never changed himself for anyone. He is stubbornly himself, even when it makes him seem like an outcast weirdo. - He has little patience. He isn't gentle or nice. But he cares enough to be kind, even to those he hates... and he is loyal. It isn't ideal for Remus but it gives him a place to fit himself: If Severus is cold, he is warm. If Severus has the quirk of being a snarky, prickly bastard - Remus is skilled at the opposite. - Independent. Accustomed to being alone. Expects to be alone. Being with someone who understands him... a little daunting, really. The main place I think Severus fails here is emotional strength. He is quick to anger and lashes out. He holds grudges. He starts shit and Remus can't handle shit. Severus needs someone who can temper those anger flares, or at least weather them - and Remus can do neither. But perhaps that is the place they can meet in the middle...?
LILY EVANS - Everyone liked her. Talented, bright and strong-willed, She was a popular girl. I think Remus liked her too, but... James and Severus. - She seems a bit cheeky, quick witted - she brightens a room when she walks in. - She was best friends with Severus for years. Maybe she had other friends in her dorm - but if they were as close to her as Severus was, they would have been HIS friends, too. She was willing to be with the outcast, even when popular. - I know it's a movie quote, but I think it still fits from Remus' POV when he says Lily was an 'uncommonly kind woman' and 'had a way of seeing the beauty in others when that person cannot see it themselves.' I think she accepted him fast and firmly. - She didn't need anyone else. She stood up to James by herself. She knew what she was worth. - She seems to prefer ending fights rather than starting them. She hates a bully. Lily doesn't have the 'grit' (for lack of a better word) to take toxicity. She hated James' bullying. She dropped Severus. She has patience and an 'I can help fix him' desire - but they need to put in the effort, too. James cleaned up his act somewhat and she liked that. Remus isn't going to fully succeed at 'fixing' himself. Not just by 'putting some effort in'. It is going to take so long, and be so slow... Severus would be far easier to 'I can help fix him' - and she couldn't handle him. !!!This isn't saying Lily is weak or something. It is incredibly HEALTHY to not being able to put up with toxic shit, to have the strength to say 'enough is enough'. That is a GOOD thing.!!!
A popular partner I DON'T think works out so easily:
SIRIUS BLACK Sirius Black is a dog. He needs people. He needs constant companionship - especially after Azkaban. He is a mess who needs support, company, loyalty... and Remus can't provide any of that with regularity! Waking up in an empty bed, in a cold room, after Remus timidly promised to 'always be there' for him but was lying... it would shatter Sirius. He doesn't have the strength or stability to lose anyone else. Sirius is honest and sticks to his guns even when times get tough. He would rather DIE than turn his back on a loved one. Remus lies unprovoked and runs away with his tail between his legs at the slightest sign of trouble. Sirius, as a traumatized man, is not going to be able to understand why Remus can just throw away everything he has to run off. How he could just leave him alone again...? Doesn't he love him?! At his worst: he is more likely to try and emotionally trap Remus with him, force him to stay - and that just isn't going to work. Remus is a Wolf. He can't be locked in. I don't even think Sirius at his best, pre-Azkaban, would fit well: - He is upbeat, but in a way that tries to break others out of their funks. It's abrasive for him to hang out with someone sad. ((I'm sure he could learn to do it but his instinct is to help.)) - He is kind - but he has a limit. When that limit is passed, his care is snapped. He holds grudges and he makes judgements. - He is not and has never been independent. He is strong-willed and confident about himself, yes - but he thrives when he is at another's side. He has always been like this Azkaban just made it worse. - He doesn't have what it takes to weather Remus' bullshit. That's not a bad thing either, he know how to cut toxic people from his life when they are too heavy - but post-Azkaban he is even more scared of losing people, which makes him vulnerable. - He starts shit. He jumps into arguments, he escalates, he enjoys the thrill and the drama of it. Remus wouldn't join in, even if he agrees with Sirius, and thus would leave him unsupported. We see this very thing happen in OotP
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elffees · 2 days
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How Fragile Allyship is Portrayed in Frontiers of Pandora
So I really love this audio log from Priya and needed to talk about it. This entire post will be based on this log.
Transcript:
"I ... it's Priya. Obviously. I don't know what day it is. Nothing makes sense... Alma's dead. Alma. Is. Dead.
Oh wow. That's weird. But you know what the really weird, screwy part is? There's this whole other Alma just walking around. Except she's not blue and she's got tiny eyes. Do we all have such tiny eyes? I just ... I feel like good Alma was killed. And we're left with this other one who everyone hates. But really it's the same person. Or is it?
I don't know what to think. I'm not really the one for existential crises, but this is a real brain-breaker. And I'm ... I'm sad. My friend died. No. No. She was murdered. I know she did some bad things, but Nor had no right. I'm glad he's gone. Maybe he's glad too. He never liked it here. Never liked us. Humans.
But we're trying to help. Alma was trying to help. She was protecting them. She tried. Right? Mercer's the bad one. That's all I know for sure. And that other Alma... she wants to hang out, just like old times. But... she's not my friend. Not— I think I hear someone. Signing off."
This audio log can be found in the Resistance Hideout.
I really like this log because it encapsulates the different ways allies & marginalized peoples view and are affected by certain situations.
Disclaimer before I start: I am not saying Priya is a bad person, nor am I saying allies are bad people.
For starters, I can understand why Priya, and likely other Resistance members, have mixed feelings towards Alma. It's a very complex situation. So Priya regarding it as "weird" and being at a complete loss makes sense.
What I want to focus on in this post are the last 3 paragraphs. Where she expresses confusion and hurt because "Good Alma was murdered".
I think this right here is a very well written distinction on how allies and the marginalized communities they assist experience situations differently.
Alma's Reveal
Everyone had their worlds turned upside down when Alma confessed the full extent of her actions in TAP. Alma admits that her avatar was a tool for manipulation. Although she may care for the Sarentu children now, for the majority of their relationship, from the genocide, to TAP, to being frozen and left behind, Alma's avatar was a tool to manipulate and coerce Na'vi into viewing her (and by extension TAP, then later the Resistance) as "one of them". As someone to trust and relate to. The purpose of her having an avatar was to act as a golden ticket into Na'vi society.
Alma was not "murdered". There is no "good" or even "bad" Alma. There is only Alma.
The human who played a role in the massacre of a clan, then manipulated its survivors for years, then left them behind to remain in stasis for nearly 2 more decades.
Who is also the human who founded the Western Resistance and tried to band together several Na'vi clans to protect Pandora, who encouraged the Sarentu to reclaim their culture and customs the ones that didn't expose her ofc, and who helped rid Pandora of cackling narcissist John Mercer.
There is only ONE Alma that has done all of these things.
Alma was not "murdered". Her tool of manipulation was destroyed. The object, the mask, the weapon that gave Alma her power and confidence and that helped her fool not only the Sarentu, not only the Resistance, but also herself into thinking she was something she was not, was taken from her.
Alma was not murdered. She was thrust back into reality.
And so, Priya's last 3 paragraphs interest me. It's completely fine that she mourns the image of who she thought Alma was. In a way I think the Sarentu (sans Nor) do as well. Everyone thought Alma was just a good person who only wanted to help with no ulterior motives. It's painful to realize that was far from the case.
But then Priya goes on to hate Nor. She spits his name out like a curse. Glad he's gone because "he never liked them anyway". That he had no right to "murder" Alma because she only did a few "bad things".
There's a lot to unpack there.
Priya's Blaming of Nor & It's Ties to Fragile Allyship
I want to break down the lines one by one.
She was murdered. I know she did some bad things, but Nor had no right.
For starters, it is EXTREMELY COMMON for allies of marginalized communities to "insert their two cents" on a delicate topic. More often than not when there is inter-community issues, allies have a tendency to say the phrase: "I'm [insert demographic] so take what I'm saying with a grain of salt, BUT I think..." Any and all oppressed classes have heard this phrase from MILLIONS of allies before.
The FOP writers did remarkably well at capturing what allyship looks like when writing the Resistance. Because Priya, as a human formerly part of the oppressive group trying to wipe out the Na'vi and Pandoran wildlife, fully believes she can judge whether Nor had a right or not.
It's not her call.
She cannot determine whether Nor was justified or not because she, as someone part of the privileged class in the world of the game, has never suffered from the harm that Alma's avatar has caused.
She, and none of the Resistance members, were raised by Alma's avatar.
They were not lied to by Alma's avatar for YEARS about the true fate of their families and loved ones.
They were not encouraged to view Alma as a mother-figure or nurturing teacher or beloved caretaker, when she was actually just eager for fame and success.
They were not put into cryosleep and then left behind for 16 MORE YEARS with suspicions that this abandonment was an intentional coverup.
They did not suffer any of that.
They saw her as the leader of the Resistance and as a friend, which does cause an impactful betrayal of course, but Alma's avatar never tried to force them to see her as family. As someone to love.
While Priya only says all this in a private audio log and thankfully doesn't say it to any of the Sarentu or god forbid So'lek, these are her thoughts. The simple fact she believes she can judge Nor, that she has the capacity and authority to scold one of the main victims, is a reoccurring feature of privileged allies who struggle to realize that they cannot relate or ever fully understand how marginalized communities experience oppression.
Priya says Nor had "no right" to "murder" Alma. When truthfully, Priya has no right to judge how the Sarentu feel and respond.
I'm glad he's gone. Maybe he's glad too. He never liked it here. Never liked us. Humans.
After Priya attempts to place judgement on Nor's actions, she then dives deeper.
She is glad Nor is gone. Not ONLY because of what he did to Alma's avatar. No. She is also glad he's gone because Nor was not friendly.
Another prime instance of fragile allyship is that allies tend to believe that marginalized people are only worth their sympathy if they're likeable.
This has a lot ties to the "Perfect Victim" concept.
Because Nor was not friendly, because his trauma caused him to distrust humans and he did not quickly get over it and befriend Resistance members, he is undeserving of as much sympathy as the other Sarentu.
It's seen as a positive that he's gone (despite the fact he ran away in clear emotional distress.) Not just because of what he did to Alma's avatar, but because now Priya and the Resistance no longer have to assist someone that's "ungrateful" and "not as nice" as they should be.
The purpose of being an ally is to help oppressed classes survive against circumstances that would otherwise have them discriminated against or have them dead. Being a truly good ally should not hinder on whether the person is "likeable" or "grateful" for their services. But sadly, in the real world, that is one of the most common "conditions" a LOT of allies have when it comes to offering support. How much they like the person or groups they claim to want to help.
Allyship is more often than not based on likeability, rather than morality.
But we're trying to help. Alma was trying to help. She tried. Right?
Another feature of fragile allyship is the tendency to change sides.
Priya agrees that what Alma did was wrong. She understands that.
But because of the simple fact that Alma is human, Priya not only relates but tries to defend Alma's actions. Seeing herself in Alma is understandable because they are both human and were friends. The problem comes when Priya begins to project and defend Alma's actions.
It doesn't matter that by her own admission Alma's main goals were fame and achievement. It doesn't matter how much the Sarentu are hurt by her actions. It doesn't matter that Nor was outraged. It doesn't matter that even calm and collected Ri'nela was disgusted. It doesn't matter HOW the Sarentu, as the direct victims, feel about Alma's actions. It doesn't matter that intent ≠ impact.
Alma is human like Priya, so from Priya's POV, Alma's 'intentions' hold more value than how the Sarentu were impacted. "We're" trying to help. Alma was trying to help. So her actions can't have been that bad. Right?
Mercer's the bad one. That's all I know for sure.
And finally, this is another feature of how allies tend to respond to things.
Of the two, Mercer is the one who unabashedly committed the massacre and oppressed the Sarentu for years. Mercer is "the bad one" because his actions are overt. They are clear cut, obvious, and maniacally evil.
When real world marginalized groups face microaggressions or covert prejudice, allies have a tendency to step in and defend the offender. "Hm, I don't think that was racist." "Are you sure that's homophobic?" "It's just a word. I don't see how it can be ableist to say." - "It's not like it's really hurting anyone."
When oppression is not as clear cut to allies, they tend to dismiss it entirely. It doesn't matter how the victims feel about the situation. As discussed earlier in the post, allies tend to think they have the authority and capability to make judgements on prejudice they do not face, and ergo believe they can determine how "bad" something really is. Better than the marginalized class can themselves.
In Priya's eyes, Alma is better than Mercer because Mercer's oppression was harsh yelling, explosions, and murder. "Mercer's the bad one" while Alma was "only trying to help."
But in truth, both Mercer and Alma have done and continued to do harmful things. They both played a part in the decimation and continued manipulation of the Sarentu. Both for their own selfish purposes.
Oppression has many faces. It does not always look the same, it is not always a mustache twirling villain. It can be subtle and quiet. It can be hidden behind gentle eyes and smiles. It can be from "good intentions" just as easily as it comes from "bad intentions". It can be subconscious, it can be self aware, it can be secretive, it can be out in the open. It can be many things. There is not only "one bad" style.
Oppression is just as diverse as the communities it aims to harm.
Conclusion
I want to reiterate that I do not dislike Priya and this post isn't a hate campaign against her. I know many dudebros in the fanbase unfairly criticize her.
The point of this post is to applaud the FOP writers. It is very rare when mainstream media is able to accurately depict how fragile allyship is. Priya's reaction to Nor stabbing Alma's avatar is painfully realistic to the many ways allies have reacted to certain situations in the real world.
This is one of the many reasons why I love this game and feel it hits home. Not only can I relate to the Na'vi clans, but my god can I relate to the way allies are written in relation to them. And I feel like this audio log from Priya, while brief and easily missable, is one of the prime moments of realism this game portrays really well.
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kriegertops · 2 days
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This is a very long one:
I was going down a tumblr rabbit hole and came across and old Binoe page that had A LOT of Krashlyn content from 2019-late 2022. And I came away with a few observations:
1) Ali and Ash were deeply in love. The pics, videos, events, comments to each other, just their sheer history together is overwhelming, and they looked happy, affectionate and just in sync thruout. This idea that Ash was in an unhappy marriage is ridiculous. Bc nothing she ever posted indicated anything close to that.
2) The early Sloane months were adorable, and their captured family moments were so cute and loving. They absolutely doted on that child. She was the center of their world, and they documented so much of her cuteness, and it reminded me of how fun Ash was during this time, and I *briefly* remembered why I liked her back then.
3) I hadn’t realized that makeup artist Alex had been with them for so long- I thought she was new once they got to NY. But no- she was there on their wedding day and before. Also, forgot how close both A’s were to all the Gotham girls when they first got to the team, and how tight Midge was with the whole family.
4) I was reminded of how much soccer connected them, and how it dominated their lives.
I eventually had to stop scrolling bc I got sad seeing how they used to be.
So what in the heck happened?
1) I think Ash was not at all prepared for retirement. She didn’t really line anything up that would be sustainable employment, and not having that identity as an athlete was overwhelming. I’m guessing she had some mild/severe bouts of depression, and despite having an adorable family, she realized it wasn’t fulfilling her. That probably led her to be mean and resentful of Ali, which progressed into outright anger, and bc she’s at her core a narcissist, she blamed Ali for her own sorry situation.
2) there’s been so much talk of, how did Ali not know things were so bad? Well, after all those YEARS together, Ali probably assumed they would work it out. Even after ash moved out, she might have still had visions of repairing her family. Trust me, no mom willing concedes 50% of their time with their kids without a hard core fight. I think Ali was willing to do the work- she just couldn’t give it everything bc she was trying to f’ing retire.
3) those women had a TIGHT group of friends. For years, very formative years. Megan loved Ash. They were effusive abt their friendship. Reliving all their posts back and forth again signified how telling it is that almost NONE of their friend group publicly supported ash. National teammates, club teammates, outside soccer friends (makeup Alex), preschool families- they all gave her the heisman. They didn’t engage in SM, didn’t post pics, really just dumped her like a bad habit. Divorces happen in friend groups- it can be kinda awkward, but they’re grown adults who can make their own choices. And they all very clearly chose a side. And you wouldn’t do that as a friend unless what you saw was behavior so egregious and abhorrent that you couldn’t in good faith support it. And that’s exactly what happened. Ash recently posted something abt friends who chose her over optics, clearly indicating anger at those old friends. Her and Pinoe were at the same event this week, yet no public pics or any indication they interacted. I’m assuming they did, but in the past we’d see evidence of it. She goes on and on abt her new friend group, but it has to hurt a lot that she lost her old tribe. And people that know both her and Sophia- like a Glennon or Foudy, have given the couple no play at all.
4) While I have absolutely ZERO empathy for Ash, I do think she’s gotten herself into a situation that has lots of complications and might not end the way she expects. How do two self involved love bombers stay together once the newness wears off and they are in the mundane realities of everyday life? Ash has 17+ years left of raising kids. And once the kids are doing events and activities, she won’t be able to bail for a week at a time. And eventually she’s going to need to find work. Courts don’t like parents who don’t pull their weight. I think they got caught up in their infatuation, are bonded over their us vs them mentality right now, and once their feelings come back down to earth, it will be a different reality for them. I don’t really care- I don’t wish them any luck. I just think they have an uphill battle.
And my last musing after all this was about how much deep respect and awe I have for Ali. She was served a complete shit burger in the middle of her retirement season. When she should have been riding high, enjoying her last professional soccer games as a player, she was thrown into the worst chaos a person can be in. I will detest Ashlyn forever for putting her in this situation, and not having the maturity to wait it out with Sophia, and let her former wife have her moment. I think back to that Pinoe game where she and Sophia paraded around and my blood completely boils for Ali. I don’t know what happened between them, but the intentional cruelty and vindictiveness Ash showed is so disgusting, it defies logic. I am so thrilled that Ali has moved on, is thriving and has shed this dead weight from her being. I can’t imagine what she’s gone thru, but to see her unbothered and smiling now is just wonderful. I wish nothing but happy things for her!
Okay, I think that’s it! Thanks for reading my dissertation 🤣
Thank you for this anon!!! I appreciate the time you took to write this cause damn this is long😂🔥 I agree though with your thoughts on the situation and honestly the more we find out the more obvious it becomes that Ashlyn is nothing but a narcissistic cheater and Ali’s a warrior and queen who deserves happiness!
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kangals · 2 days
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way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.
in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.
last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.
then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!
idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.
and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.
sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.
i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.
thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.
i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.
i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.
thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.
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assaily · 3 days
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I have so many documents that have just little scraps of writing in them. A little while ago i was looking for an old howling draft and found some more random scraps. I cannot tell if i wrote this for howling or not, but it's cute Diego and Five fluff. Five is also baby in this and so a bit out of character, but y'know that's why it's a scrap
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“Come here.”
Five scowled at Diego, at the peace offering in his tone. “Fuck off,” he snapped. He wasn’t done being annoyed with his brother yet to be swayed by the gentle, off-putting tone Diego just addressed him with.
“Stop being an ass and come here,” Diego groused, something still gentle and apologetic on his face, even as his tone veered back into irritation. “I’m sorry, alright.” He didn’t sound very sorry, but Five suspected that was why he wanted him to come closer. Diego was bad at verbal apologies, and they’d all learned a much more effective way to get under his skin.
Five knew that he could keep snapping, declare he didn’t want them to touch him and that would be that. Surprisingly clear boundaries for a bunch of people who traditionally didn’t have many to begin with. They treated Five a little like he was feral, but he supposed the treatment was earned.
“Five,” Diego said again, even softer in response to Five’s obvious hesitation. “It’s alright, I’m sorry. Let’s just calm down for a second.” He beckoned him over with his hands, and Five finally sighed in resignation.
He actually hated how much he wanted this, and how well it worked. He really was an animal, his siblings working very hard to keep him tamed. He gave in, stepping closer but making Diego close the distance himself with arms open to envelope him.
He knew, cognitively, logically, reasonably that Diego wasn’t going to hurt him, but his body still curled into itself without his permission, arms over his chest like that would protect him from an attack that would never come. Diego knew that was just how Five responded, didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around Five’s shoulders and pressed their bodies together like they’d never been apart for over forty years.
Something lurched in Five’s chest, like it always did when they embraced him, his eyes burning with emotions he couldn’t even really feel anymore, but that swirled inside of him all the same. Churned to life in his brother’s arms. Five forced himself to breath, to feel the body pressed against him, the arms around his shoulders.
It was hard to be mad when he was reminded how much he loved them and needed them. It was hard to be testy when they offered him such blatant love, no strings attached, no work required. A safe place to settle against a heart he had fought for so long to keep beating.
It really wasn’t fair, how easy it was for them once they learned they could just hug him into submission. They definitely took advantage of the weakness, ending arguments before they got out of hand with an offer of open arms. And Five, the deprived creature he was, struggled to say no simply for how deeply he wanted the contact. He didn’t know how to ask, so he took what they offered him, even if it meant conceding an argument. One day, Five promised himself, he wouldn’t be this weak to them.
But as Diego secured him a little tighter, rocking him back and forth to loosen the rust in his lungs, Five had doubts. Diego threaded a hand through his hair, the pads of his fingers pressing into the sensitive muscles at the base of his head, bolting bone-deep pleasure down his spine; Five knew he wouldn’t be getting used to this any time soon.
He didn’t remember slumping against Diego, or closing his eyes as his fingers kneaded into the back of his neck, knees getting weaker and weaker until suddenly Diego was scooping an arm under him and pulling him up.
“You gotta tell us when you aren’t sleeping, Five. We want to help you, but we can’t do that if we don’t know what’s going on.”
Once, Five would have groused that he didn’t need help, certainly not their help. He had survived so much on his own, he didn’t need to be doted on like this. But Diego was slow to take him to bed, one arm holding his weight, the other wrapped around his shoulders, and Five’s arms secured around Diego’s neck like a buoy in the ocean. Diego walked slow, each step like a gentle wave, lulling Five down into a place of quiet and rest.
He didn’t say he didn’t need the help, because they both knew that was a lie. The biggest lie Five had ever tried to tell them, or himself. So he tucked his face into his brother’s throat and listened to his heart beating and his body breathing. He was so tired now, without the anger keeping him awake, and the warmth pressing against him, the sway and rock just as much of a comfort.
Like he was a child, a wayward animal in need of soothing. If he still had any pride left, he’d be mortified. But his pride had been long trampled into dust, and he was far, far too small now to take no for an answer when one of his siblings offered him affection like this.
“You’ll stick ‘round?” he asked, hearing the slur in his own words.
“Yeah, bud,” Diego said, voice wavering like it always did when Five asked this question. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Five sighed softly, tightening his hold on his brother and letting his thoughts go to focus on the sensations instead.
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more snips here and here
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