#pro no-dig gardening

[balkanradfem]

religion will be like, it's because women talk to animals and eat fruit that childbirth is so painful, and the soil so hard to work! Not because we took away all of the midwives and created horrendous agriculture practices

#anti religion #blame shifting #victim blaming #radical feminism #anti christianity #anti patriarchy #pro midwife #pro no-dig gardening #anti agriculture

[artist-issues]

“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”

Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.

Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.

It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?

But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.

If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now. Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.

Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great. But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.

Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.

You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.

But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle. LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”

Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”

Are we beginning to get the picture?

See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”

He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.

And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”

And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”

And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.

And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.

And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.

White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.

And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”

And you know what?

If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.

But He is NOT.

God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.

Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.

No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”

White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.

Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.

Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?

This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.

That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.

You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.

And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.

White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.

So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.

#Steven universe #su #Pearl #amethyst #garnet #Steven universe fans #change your mind #white Diamond #Christianity #Christian’s #asked #answered #thanks #rattling the cage #Rebecca sugar

[tired-biscuit]

fem!reader // age gap; bakugou is in his early 30s, reader is in her 20s.

bakugou gives me “get off my lawn!” vibes.

i imagine him gardening in front of his new home in a quiet little neighbourhood that he’s moved into after a particular scandal — the idea recommended as a solution to easing his temper in one of his anger management classes that his friends had somehow managed to convince him to go to — when his wrath comes face to face with you for the very first time.

he’s kneeling in front of the little garden that’s situated underneath his living room window as he digs his hands into the soil, no gloves, and with dirt pushing underneath his fingernails so deep that he’ll only be able to scrub it out when he finally heads inside to take a shower later.

so, he’s tending to the small patch of soil. with his brow furrowed and his teeth repeatedly sinking into the inside of his cheek, the temporarily-retired pro hero is visibly trying so hard to not crumple the flowers that he’s spent ages fighting to keep alive in their little pots ever since the day his stupid therapist had instructed him to buy the seeds, put them on the windowsill, take care of them, and watch them grow just like the calmness and the ‘zen’ in him is supposed to, or whatever the fuck.

and sure enough, the little fuckers actually grew. they grew so big actually, that he now has to complete yet another pesky task, consisting of finding them a new spot where they can fully flourish before they can get the chance to overtake his entire window, bed, room, even him, perhaps.

grumbling under his breath, the raging blond feels somewhat proud as he stares at his little creations. i mean, who knew he had it in him? a proper green thumb; attached to the explosive, otherwise oftentimes murderous palm of katsuki fucking bakugou!

and speaking of murderous: the look on katsuki’s face is a near perfect example of the word as he goes to place the first plant into the little hole that he’s just finished digging up. with his crimson eyes dangerously narrowed, he watches intently how the petals bend, as well as the leaves, whilst he picks up the poor flower and starts transfering it from pot to soil.

luckily, neither break or tear under his thick fingers. he’s being gentle and delicate for a change — adjectives people would never describe him with at first glance, nor after getting to know him a little bit better. no, he’s a grump through and through, and the focus in his head is so high now, in fact, that it even causes a wrinkle to etch itself deep into the middle of his forehead, accentuating the previous statement even further.

but that grump in him really manages to shine through the moment a football suddenly appears out of nowhere and knocks over one of the pots he’s brought outside only minutes prior.

tink! — a thin little crack appears on one side of the pot, now. bakugou, holding his breath without even realizing it, watches as it spreads through the glazed ceramic. the flower lays limply on the concrete step beside the garden that it’s just been knocked into. it had been his favourite one of the plants, the petals were so pretty and in a gorgeous shade of orange, but he can’t dwell on it; not when the crack is still spreading.

it’s spreading, spreading, spreading. just like the anger that bubbles within him.

tink, tink, crack! — the pot is chipped. a little piece of it crumbles off and falls onto the step.

oh, no. it’s ruined. it’s all ruined and the perfectionist in him is screaming.

and fuck, red fury swoops upon bakugou’s mind like a hawk at that. it’s such a small thing, a mere accident, but he just can’t help it; life’s been hard as of late. with his jaw clenched and all anger management lessons forgotten, he grabs the football and tightens his hold around it with both hands until he can feel the sparks dancing on his palms. until he can feel the warmth start to radiate from them.

the heat makes the synthetic leather hiss. it tingles, from his hands, all over his body. he hasn’t indulged in his quirk in such a long time. it feels good, even if the emotions that now plague and storm his outraged mind are awfully bitter.

and as for rage…

“are you fucking kidding me?!” his voice booms through the air as he pushes up to his full height in one swift, scary movement. “you stupid, brainless brats; how many fuckin’ times have i told you not to play he—”

it’s not often that katsuki stops in his tracks mid-sentence — especially in the midst of such a venomous one, at that — but the moment he whirls around and lays his eyes on you, deadly silence falls.

i mean, how can he not turn quiet? jesus on a cross, there’s a girl standing in front of him now, instead of a kid or an old lady. an actual girl, and she’s fucking gorgeous.

dressed in comfortable shorts, a cute crop top that shows just a sliver of your stomach, and colourful, almost childish flip-flops, your skin looks like it’d be warm to the touch if he were to stroke it. the sunshine that blazes above you on this hot summer’s day, causes sweat to glimmer in a layer so thin on your forehead. it makes the little hairs that frame your pretty face curl because of the way they’re turning damp with salt. makes the side of your neck have a certain sheen to it as well.

bakugou’s head cocks to the side as he assesses you further. sure, it’s hot out, however the heat doesn’t seem to be the main reason as to why you look so appealingly disheveled. after all, you’re inhaling and exhaling fast, and your shoulders are rising and falling even quicker as you seem to be trying to catch your breath.

did you run all the way over here?

“sorry… hi! lemme just… ah… catch my breath for a quick second… gosh.” he blinks at the sound of your voice as you raise your hand in apology before resting both of them onto your knees and bending over at the middle. your demeanor almost seems sheepish when you look up at him from underneath your lashes, still trying to ease your breathing. “i’m so, so, so sorry for your flowers, mister dynamight, sir…! my little brother kicked the football way too hard as we were playing a game he made up, so i just… i, uh, i ran over here to apologize on his behalf, and to… get the ball back.”

katsuki quirks a brow as he lets his gaze fall to the football he still holds in his hands, and for which you’re so clearly asking to get back, now. he knows the kid who you’re referring to as your brother — an especially irritating little menace that’s been sucking his blood through a goddamn straw, with all the pranks he and the group of brats he calls his friends have been initiating on his property as of late.

and sure enough, when he looks over your shoulder, the little shit is nowhere to be found.

the thought of the kid continuously stepping on his nerves for the last few weeks angers him in a flash, making his grip on the football tighten and start to smoulder; it makes smoke spiral in thin lines underneath his fingertips. though, when he lifts his gaze and lets his eyes land on you again — on that stupidly pretty, sweaty face of yours — bakugou surprisingly feels that white-hot rage somewhat disippating bit by bit.

hand to heart, he’s intrigued by you. you don’t seem to mind being in his presence, despite the fact that you seem to know fully well who exactly he is. and if you know that, then you’re surely familiar with the rumours and gossip that never cease to follow a big name like his. as well as the public announcement, talking about his — forced — temporary retirement from the hero business, because of the consistently violent outbursts he had failed to tame over the years.

for fuck’s sake, the dynamight is your neighbour, and you seem to be outright unbothered by it. it’s peculiar as fuck.

and it’s also the reason why the only thing he grunts out now, is, “you’re new.”

“i’m sorry?” that surprises you. your brief confusion is evident in the way you straighten, as well as how your own head lightly tilts so that you can look at him properly for the first time ever since you’ve stepped foot on the patch of land he should be calling home.

“you’re new,” he repeats simply, jerking his chin towards your direction and pointing the football at you. “i haven’t seen ya ‘round here before.”

“oh—ohh…” there it is; a wonderful smile appears on your otherwise pouty lips as you smack your forehead in realization. “yeah; that totally makes sense! i came back home just a couple of days ago to spend summer break with my family, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen me around yet.”

summer break. so you must be still in college? it’s not odd that you’re still a student, with a tight body like that, clothes so revealing and scarce, and a face that just screams youth, youth, youth. adding it all together, bakugou catches himself feeling not all that thrown off by the fact that you’re in school, pursuing a degree.

at least you have a goal in life. unlike him, and his stupid gardening.

nevertheless, he gives you a curt nod and tries to tame the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he hands you back the ball he’d considered melting with his quirk just moments before. he’s still so angry because of the pot.

it held his favourite flower, goddammit.

“you’re new here, too,” you chime as you take the ball from his hands. “i know you weren’t here the last time i came to visit… i’d remember a man like you if he were living across the street from me.”

he isn’t entirely sure if you actually don’t see it, or you simply turn a blind eye towards the dirt and the branding that he’s now burned into the ball with his fingers, but both choices seem just dandy to bakugou as he watches you grin up at him, now. so cutesy.

“moved in a couple of months ago,” he explains briefly, clearing his throat and wiping his hands against his black gym shorts. he has to wash them later anyway; what’s a little bit of sweat and dirt? “been sort of… startin’ over, hah.”

you could call it that, all right.

you give him a knowing look, but don’t say anything about the article that had covered the first page of nearly every newsletter in the country not a while back.

dynamight retires at the young age of 33 after yet another savage misdemeanor! read more below!

no, instead you say, “well, that’s nice. i certainly hope that you’ve adjusted and that our little neighbourhood has been treating you well, mister dynamight, sir.”

that last word… did you say it like that; so softly, almost purring, the first time, too?

“i suppose i did,” he answers, feeling a heat that he can’t blame on the late afternoon sun start to crawl up his neck. it’s not intense enough to make him blush, per se, but it is enough to tint the tips of his ears a light pink. damn, it sure has been a while if a mere tone has got him acting like this.

your smile grows bigger as you notice the faint change of shade. it makes your face beam. “i know it’s quaint compared to the city, but i’m sure you’ll learn to like it.”

he watches you turn so that you can head back to your house, inside of which your menace of a little brother is surely hiding, and he can’t help but eye you up from head to toe again, well, heel. the back of you is just as stunning as your front is, he’s dragging his eyes all over; that is until you whip your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder.

“oh, and mister dynamight?”

“what?” he calls out. you’ve already reached the sidewalk.

“i really am sorry about your flower pot. i’ll buy you a new one, if you’ll let me,” you say, waving. “just don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

katsuki doesn’t answer. he wants to say a million things all at once, to agree, to deny, whatever. to tell you to call him katsuki, or at least bakugou; that he hasn’t been called dynamight in a while and hasn’t felt like him either for a long while, too. to ask you what your name is, because he’s just realized he’s never got it. to try shooting his shot, or just talk, talk, talk because he’s lonely, he’s been feeling oh, so very lonely ever since moving here.

but all he does instead, is raise his hand and wave.

#i might write more about this bkg and reader #i think they’re both so sweet!! #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #biscuit drabbles

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Fallen || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!devil!reader Summary: When a young driver wants to make a deal with the devil to get his greatest desire you find yourself forgetting what side of Heaven and Hell you are on. Warnings: supernatural themes, mention of deaths (Jules, Hervé & Hubert), angst, fluff WC: 5k

F1 Masterlist || Bonus Scene

16th October 2013 The kid had no business standing at the crossroads. What could a boy need so desperately that he was willing to part with his soul for it? But it wasn’t your place to question, merely to answer. 

The boy murmured to himself as he knelt on the gravel and started to dig with a pink trowel he had borrowed from his mothers gardening tools. The quiet mutterings brought you amusement as you thought of the surprise he would get when his doubt was proven wrong and you appeared.

He carefully followed the instructions inked on the page that had been torn from a very old book. He reached up to his dark hair with a small pocket knife and cut away a small patch before laying it in the hole he had made. Turning the knife on himself, he whined as he pricked the tip of his finger and squeezed it until three thick blood drops fell onto the strands of his hair.

You would usually laugh at the poor attempt of the incantation to call upon you but instead you sighed as you grew tired of the theatrics. 

“What do you want, kid?”

A small shriek filled the night as he fell back on his ass. “But…but…you…but…”

“Shit, you’re not even old enough to talk properly,” you said as you knelt down to his height. “Go home.”

His mouth snapped closed before scrambling to his feet and wiping the dust that covered his jeans. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. I was expecting…” he looked around and frowned, “never mind. Do you need help?”

“No, do you?” 

He looked genuinely concerned as he searched the dark road and you tipped your head to the side before you remembered that to a human you looked like a 21 year old. It didn’t matter that you had roamed the world for a thousand years, your physical form remained the same.

“I guess not,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped and he kicked his vans at the loose stones as he whispered, “it didn’t work anyway.”

“It was your pronunciation, Latin is a tough language. I’ll let you in on a secret, you can say the incantation in any language and it will work.” You leaned in closer and chuckled darkly. “The devil just enjoys torturing people.” 

“But…but…”

“Great, we’re back to that, are we?” You rolled your eyes and opened your palm, a ball of fire erupting into the night and the scent of sulphur lingering after the flame burned out. “What did you expect when you called me?”

“You…you’re the…dev…”

“Devil,” you offered as his face paled and he stumbled backwards. “Say it with me. De-vil.”

“You’re the devil? But you look like an angel.”

“More or less, there’s actually a lot of us.” You clapped him on the back and grinned when he jumped. “So what can I do for you, kid?”

“I heard you could grant wishes.”

“I’m not a genie, I’m a dealer,” you said with a shake of your head. “You tell me your dream and I make it happen, for a price.”

He chewed on his lip, his conscience trying to warn him it was a bad idea. “What price?”

You flicked your hand out and the piece of paper on the ground flew into your fingers. “You know the price. How old are you anyway, kid?”

“I’m sixteen, today actually.” 

“Congratulations!” You frowned as it didn’t sound quite right and he did the same. “Wait, it’s happy birthday, isn’t it? We don’t exactly have them since we are fallen, not born.”

“That's really sad.”

“Hell help me, you are an emotional one.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt the waves of empathy rolling off the teenager. “Listen, I’m all up for taking souls, it’s my job and I’m pretty good at it, but you seem like a nice guy so I’ll help you out pro bono as long as you don’t cry.”

“Really?” His excitement was almost as infectious as his smile as he grinned at your offer and you could tell that with a few more years of growth and maturity he would be as handsome as those goody-good angels.

“Really. So what’s your dream? And don’t go all ‘Disneyland’ and that shit, make it big.”

“I want to be a Formula One World Champion.”

“Fuck, okay, I said big not gigantic,” you said as you cracked your neck and then your knuckles before rolling your shoulders. “That will take some time to pull off, but we got this, kid.”

“Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc,” he said as he held his hand out. “Do devils have names?”

“Of course we have names, but names have power and I don’t know you well enough to share mine with you.” You shook his hand and he jumped a little at the heat difference since the hellfire made you run hotter than humans. That same heat flickered up your spine as you felt another calling at a crossroad half a world away and so you stepped away. “I’ll check in once a year to see your progress.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You laughed darkly as thick smoke began to gather at your feet where the earth was opening to your home realm. The teen yelped as a lick of flame encircled his wrist but the scar that appeared just as quickly healed so no one would know he had been marked by the devil.  “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2014 “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”

You stepped out of the shadows and looked around the modest home that should have been full of his friends celebrating his 17th birthday. The air was thick with grief and it made your back ache from the weight of it bearing down on you as you watched the teenager stand with his back to you at a bookcase.

“Maybe I am,” you murmured as you walked over to him and saw his eyes fixated on a photo. 

Placing the photo back carefully on the shelf he turned and you saw the difference a year had made. “I want to make a deal. My soul, take it.”

“Woah, slow down, Birthday Boy, you don’t know what you are offering.”

“I don’t care, I just need him to be alright.” Tears were swimming in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and squeezed tightly. “Fix Jules, please.”

Unable to resist, you reached out and touched the tear that ran down his cheek. Pain obliterated your chest, crushing your insides as waves of memories flooded your senses until you knew Jules just as well as he did.

For the first time since your fall a thousand years ago, you were envious of the angel you had been. You wanted to be the cause of his hope, but that wasn’t something you could give and you tugged your hand from his hold before they could blister his skin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Bullshit! You are a dealer, you said so yourself.”

“That’s not how it works, Charles, I’m a devil. Don’t you see? The deals I make are selfish, the things people want for themselves. You want a miracle,” you sighed and felt the familiar ache where your wings once were, “I can’t do those anymore.”

“You got me into Formula Renault.”

“You got yourself there, kid,” you said as you stepped away. “I just whispered a few suggestions to people I knew would listen.”

It was a little more threatening involved but you weren’t going to let him know that. You hadn’t needed to do anything other than get someone to give him a chance since he had the talent to win all on his own.

“There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his green eyes swimming with tears.

You sighed as you stepped away, rubbing your temple as if you could actually get a migraine like a human could. “I can’t make any promises, but…let me see what I can do.”

You faded from the room before you could see the hope that filled his face and followed the memory of his visit to Jules, finding yourself in the shadows of a hospital room. The room was empty except for the young man laying on the bed, wires and tubes keeping his breathing steady. You were struck by the pain you felt and knew it wasn’t real but the lingering effects of sharing Charles’ memory of him, but that knowledge still didn’t ease the ache.

“Azrael, come down here.”

It only took a second for the angel to appear and she didn’t look pleased at being called away from her duties.

“You’re not an archangel anymore, you can’t just snap your fingers at me.”

“Obviously I can since you showed,” you pointed out. “I need a favour.”

“You don’t do favours,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.

“I do now. I need you to leave him alone.”

Azrael looked at the comatose man before reaching forward and touching his forehead and shaking her head. “He’s one of ours, he has to come with me soon.”

“You have no sense of time, whatsoever. Soon could be 50 years from now.” You crossed your arms and stared the death angel down. “I’ll deny three souls in exchange for his life.”

“You’d turn down three deals for Jules? Who is he to you?”

“No one, but he means everything to someone else. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal, he has until I next come back down, no more.”

You nodded in agreement hoping her sporadic trips to earth erred on a lengthier time away this round. Unfurling her wings, you felt a pang of jealousy arise as you watched her fade away only to hear the strong beats of her wings carry her higher.

You aparated back to Charles and found him slumped in a leather reading chair, an album of photos open on his lap. Droplets splattered on plastic sleeves, only to smear into streaks as he wiped them away at your arrival.

“I bought him some time,” you said softly as you fell into the seat opposite him. “I can’t say how long because I don’t know but for now he will live.”

Charles dropped the book as he fell to his knees and clutched your hand tightly, the gesture making you uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he choked as his tears hit your knee through the rip in your skinny jeans and turned to steam. He didn’t seem to be affected by the heat radiating off you, he didn’t seem to feel it at all as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your joined hands. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” you said ruefully, pulling your hand back from the touch. “Healing was never my gift. He will have to do that on his own.”

“He will, I know he will,” Charles said with certainty as he rose to his feet. “He’s the strongest man that I know.”

You stood up with a nod and realised this year he was the same height as you, seeing eye to eye after his latest growth spurt.

“I hope you are right,” you said, feeling the floor start to give way beneath you as you willed yourself home. “Until next year, Birthday Boy.”

Charles’ nose wrinkled at the smell of sulphur filling the room and he stepped back at the sight of the black plume swirling around your boots. “You don’t have to wait a year, you can visit anytime.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you laughed as the smoke climbed higher.

“Just because you’re the devil, it doesn’t make you bad,” he said with a shy shrug. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

He was right in the fact you had been kind, something no one else would say about you. You couldn’t explain why you were different with him, why you couldn’t treat him like any other advantageous young man wanting to get ahead. There would surely be hell to pay if word ever got out about it.

The smoke reached your throat and pulled you down. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

16th October 2015 Charles would never know it but you had visited him throughout the year. You had kept to the shadows, watching from afar as he graduated to Formula 3 and came one step closer to reaching his dream. You were there by his side when he received the phone call that had devastated him, you had felt Azrael’s presence on the mortal plane and immediately went to him. You didn’t reveal yourself, not when the gut wrenching sound he made had you hate having fallen. You could offer him nothing so you remained hidden, torturing yourself with the knowledge of what could have been.

It was a little before midnight when you arrived at the busy nightclub. You should have just apparated into a bathroom stall but instead you had to produce a fake ID so the bouncer would let you in.

“Guess I can’t call you kid anymore,” you said as you found Charles in the VIP area and took a seat beside him. “Happy Birthday.”

“Who’s this angel, Charles?” his friend asked with a confident grin.

You tipped your head back with a laugh before you recovered enough to say, “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, but you call me D.”

Charles nearly choked on his drink at the snort he gave. “What are you doing here, D? I don’t remember inviting you.”

You leaned closer to see his cheeks flushed pink with the alcohol he was now legally allowed to imbibe in and whispered, “There’s only one place I need an invitation, and despite the name on the door outside - this isn’t Heaven.”

With a huff of annoyance he stood up and made his way out of the VIP area to the packed dance floor. Knowing everyone was completely inebriated you didn’t bother to follow him, instead you suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Leave me alone,” Charles growled as he turned his back, but everywhere he went you were in front of him.

Finally he gave up escaping and you shoved a hand on your hip as you asked, “What’s your problem?” 

“My problem? You lied to me, that’s what!” The drink in his hand spilled over the rim of the glass with the angry shaking overtaking his body. “Jules died…and you weren’t even there. You never visited me and…I needed you. I needed to know why!”

You took the glass from him and tipped the liquid back, relishing the burn of the alcohol down your throat as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, mortal.”

“Well, we never made a deal, so there’s no need for you to be here, devil.”

The words hurt more than you cared to admit and the glass shattered in your hand, ichor flowing from the wounds before they could heal as quickly as they came. Charles' eyes widened at the dark liquid coating your palm and he almost looked worried for you but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your heels, the shoes uncomfortable compared to the boots you normally wore but you had wanted to fit in. For him.

“You’re right,” you muttered as you freed your hair from the constricting hair tie and kicked the shoes off. There was nothing to be done about the tight red dress until you were home, but you would be there soon enough. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2016 Try as you might, you couldn’t stay away. Unbeknownst to Charles, you regularly checked in to see what his latest accomplishments were. As it was, he was leading the Formula 3 Championship and was a sure graduate to Formula 2. He raced like he had the devil breathing down his neck, pushing the boundaries to the brink of disaster.

Maybe he knew you hadn’t abandoned him, or maybe he just didn’t care. You knew you definitely shouldn’t have cared but still you watched him grow into a man and mature as his career evolved.

16th October 2017 You had nearly started another war the day Azrael came for Charles’ father. For three days you stood ready to fight the angel of death for Charles’ biggest supporter while he visited the hospital to say his goodbyes. He had lied to his father, telling Hervé that he had signed to a Formula 1 team for the next year and you promised to make it happen - with or without a soul to bargain.

It wasn’t a difficult task to achieve, a small incident with Pascal Wehrlein making a seat available in Sauber. All Charles had to do was keep his head in the game and go fast like he always did.

When you watched him celebrate his birthday his eyes had glanced around the room and you wondered if it was you he was looking for. It was only when those green eyes landed on a family photo you pushed the silly thought away, he was just missing his father.

16th October 2018 “How long have you been there?” Charles asked the empty room.

How he sensed your presence, you didn’t know, but since you no longer needed to hide it you let the shadows fall away. Turning away from where he had been styling his hair in the mirror, he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

His room hadn’t changed all that much, Ferrari posters still covered the majority of the walls but they were also joined by some models posing on hoods of cars. The twin bed had been upgraded to a double and was covered in a red and yellow bedspread that clashed with your trademark black outfit as you lay across it.

“How often do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stared at his ceiling and not his narrowed eyes.

He waved a hand over your leisurely state. “This.”

You got off the bed and stalked across the room to the Formula 1 racer and found you had to look up at him even with the heels on your boots. “Don’t mortals leave home by now? I thought the 21st birthday was some big right of passage.”

You reached for the tub of hair product and sniffed at the vanilla scent before it was swiped from your hand. It smelled edible and there was another scent that was just as good but you weren’t sure what it was or where it was coming from until you leaned closer to him and inhaled.

“I just bought an apartment but it’s not ready for me to move into for a few more weeks. Will you stop that?”

“What is that smell?” Your head was swimming as if you were high but that wasn’t possible. “My head…”

You could barely stand upright as you felt drunk all of a sudden and Charles caught you as you stumbled back. “Sit down,” he said softly as he guided you to the edge of his bed. “Why did you come back?”

Your head lolled onto his shoulder and the room spun as the truth tumbled from your lips. “I never left you,” you admitted, your words slurring as the intoxicating smell left you dazed. “Not when Jules died…or your father, never…”

Charles frowned as your eyes closed and you fell back on his bed. He had spent so long blaming you, being angry at you, believing you had abandoned him when he needed you most but as you murmured in your strange state he realised he had it all wrong. 

“D?” he called out as he shook your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy and you curled into a ball as your stomach churned. “Because I shouldn’t care. You’re just a human.”

“But you do care,” he surmised as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over your shivering body. 

“Devils don’t care.” You could hardly talk through your chattering teeth, the blanket doing nothing to warm the ice that had seeped into your being.

Charles curled himself up against your back and tightened his arms around the blanket as he tried to warm you. Nothing seemed to work until his voice spoke softly in your ear, “Then maybe you’re not like the others.” 

The silence grew and he thought you had passed out when you muttered, “I had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a war…couldn’t choose a side…threw me out.” A yawn silenced your words and you snuggled into his arms, your nose finding that delicious scent strongest on his neck where you nuzzled deeper.

“My cologne,” Charles whispered and you realised you had asked aloud what it was. “You’re like a cat high on catnip.”

“Haven’t been high since I had wings.” You giggled, a sound so unlike you, but it turned to a sad sigh. “I miss my wings.”

Charles brushed your hair back from your face but you didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. “What colour were they?”

“There isn’t a colour to describe them. But you can see it at dawn…look to the east…the last star in the morning sky.”

“The Morningstar?” Charles looked down to see your lips parted with a soft snore and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was no way he was going to leave you in the state you were in, not even for his own birthday party.

16th October 2019 You had thought Azrael had forgotten the deal you made but she made sure to remind you of it when she crossed paths with you at the Belgium GP. Charles’ head had snapped your way the moment he heard the crash and you shook your head sadly. The only reassurance you could give him was that the young driver’s soul was at peace. 

Before leaving with her precious cargo, Azrael had given you two months to keep your end of the bargain and you didn’t want to test her patience. The crossroads had been quiet and it took nearly the whole time to find three souls worthy of denying a deal, most people who offered their souls for their greatest desires deserved the eternal damnation in return.

As soon as your task was fulfilled you returned to Charles, to the only place you felt at home. After waking in his arms a year ago you had struggled with the duties expected of you, finding more and more excuses for the downturn in deals. After waking in his arms, you wanted to be more than what you were. You wanted to believe you could be more, like he believed in you. 

“D,” Pierre greeted as he joined you at the bar. “Still looking as lovely as ever.”

“Still the charmer.” 

His attempt to shift closer to your side was blocked by the heat radiating from you and he pulled back with a frown, brushing the oddity off in his tipsy state. “Where have you been?”

“Here, there, everywhere,” you answered absentmindedly as you felt Charles’ presence before you spotted him. “I travel for work.”

“Let me guess - modelling?”

“Dealing.”

“No way!” His eyebrow shot up and he leaned in to whisper, “Drugs?”

“Not quite,” you said with a laugh. “Something far more lucrative.”

Charles’ hand came to rest on the small of your back and his lips brushed your cheek. “Sorry I’m late, ma diablesse. What are you drinking?”

“I could do with a-” your voice trailed off as a fissure ran through the air and you turned to see what had just walked in the door. “Hold that thought.”

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked but you were already weaving your way through the crowd. 

Waves of power rolled off the beast but no one would see the tusks spearing out of its face or the black soulless eyes, they would merely see a mountain of a man and a vibe that warned them to move aside. 

“This is a bit out of your territory, Fowler. What are you doing topside?”

The demon looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Heard some interesting rumours.”

“And what rumours were those?”

“That some darling angel was caught up with a mortal, helping out for free. You know the rules. No soul, no deal.” Fowler’s hand snapped out and caught your throat, his claws threatening to tear it out. “Don’t forget who took you in when your family threw you out.”

“Fuck you, I’ve more than paid my debt,” you spat as you grabbed his wrist and seared his skin with the lick of your flames. “Don’t come and threaten me.”

“I don’t have to threaten you,” he chuckled as he cradled his hand to his chest and looked past you to where Charles was pushing his way to your side. “Mortals are so weak, a little accident is all it takes.”

There was no way you could let Fowler return to Hell with the information he had, your weakness, so you did the only thing you could to protect Charles. You rushed the demon as the ground opened, disappearing into the pit with him before Charles could follow. You called all of your power and funnelled it into your fire, pouring it down the demon's throat until he was smothered by the flames and a smoking husk that turned to ash as you crashed to the ground. 

“Morningstar, what is the meaning of this?” 

You bowed to Beelzebub before kicking away the ash that had settled on your boot and painted a dark smile onto your face. “He interrupted a deal, I couldn’t let that grievance go unpunished. Or did you want me to forgive him?” You challenged him with an arch of your brow until he huffed a sigh and waved the question away with the whip of his tail. 

“So where is the contract for the soul?”

“Did you miss the part where I said he interrupted the deal?”

“I’m not sure if I liked you less as an angel or not,” he uttered from his throne of skulls. 

“I have that effect.” You started to leave the way you came but a chain snared around your ankle and locked into place before you could escape. 

“Not so fast.” You were thrown onto your ass as he yanked the chain and dragged you to the foot of his throne. “I find myself short of an enforcer,” he said as he looked pointedly at the pile of ash you had created.

“So find another,” you growled as you tried to melt the chain but it merely absorbed the heat you poured onto it, “there’s no shortage of brainless fools ready to serve you.”

“But look how that ended,” he laughed. “How about a deal? Ten years as my enforcer for your freedom.”

Freedom. Ten years was nothing, just a blip to an immortal, but you weren’t thinking of yourself. You were thinking what ten years would be for Charles. Would he have a wife and kids? Would he have won his world championship? Would he remember you?

“Two,” you countered.

“Five.”

“Deal, but on one condition.” You stopped fighting the chain and rose to your knees. “I want a soul.”

16th October 2024 You were beyond exhausted when you stumbled into the bedroom, using the last of your strength to find your way back to him. The last five years had been brutal and it was a miracle that you had survived to complete your end of the deal, much to Beelzebub’s chagrin. The bastard had thrown every impossible task your way but you had something he could never understand, hope. And it kept you fighting to the bitter end. 

You crashed onto the bed as your legs gave out and he leapt up at the intrusion, the bedside lamp lighting up and illuminating his silhouette as he stared at you wide eyed. “Ma diablesse? You came back…”

“Always, Birthday Boy.” You reached for him, needing to feel him with your own two hands after missing him for five years. It was his face that had kept you alive and you cupped his jaw to pull him closer only to freeze at what you felt. “Charles?”

“What? What is it?” he asked with panic as he placed his hands over yours, holding them tight to his cheeks.

“You have a beard,” you whispered, turning his face to the side to see the styled hair on his jaw. “When did that happen?”

Charles laughed and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he crushed you against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I would have been back sooner but I made a deal with the devil.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out an unassuming medallion. “A soul, my soul.”

Charles frowned in confusion as he trailed a finger over the symbols of an ancient language long forgotten. “What do you mean?”

“No more devil deals, if you’ll have me, I would be human.”

Shock rippled through his features. “You would give up immortality for me?”

“Hell is an eternity without you,” you said before you pressed your forehead to his, sharing his breath of life. “And if I never make it back to Heaven at least I will have had a moment of it here with you.”

Bonus scene here.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

[princessbrunette]

my though of farmhand!jj is instead of fancy rings and buying you clothes he actually buy you seeds of beautiful flowers and strawberries for you make your own garden. just a lot of quality time <3

🪞𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒♡

soooo cute he’d be all bashful about it, kicking his boot at the leg of the table, knee shaking as he lays all the seed packs out of you, glancing up at you for your reaction.

“probably lame, you don’t have to use any of this stuff i just — i thought i could get you some of your own stuff ‘case you wanted your own patch… could come out there with me n’plant everything, keep me company whilst m’outside…” he shrugs, trying to play off his sweet idea.

you grin, coming round to his side of the table to sit on his lap, thumbing through all the seed packs he’s found for you. “jayj, this is so sweet!”

the next day you’re right out there in the sun with him. jj does all the hard stuff of course, like digging the holes and setting everything up, letting you do the fun parts. you push the seeds into the soil, covering them back up as he passes you your pink watering can. “would you look at that, lil’ lady. you’re a pro.” smiling at you all nice n plonking his hat down on your head so u don’t get sunsick <3

🪞𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒♡

#anon #farmhand!jj #jj maybank prompt

[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game - Part 1

Oh! It seems Ji Ho is really Princess Jihovere! And she lives in a beautiful castle! In the princess' tower at that 🏰

She has a huge bathroom there! Anything a mermaid princess could wish for was there. Fluffy towels, scented essences and cute toys. (And it seems both, Jack and Ji Ho, have a way better ingame experience that poor Vlad ^^')

How cute Ji Ho looks :3

The Princess dressed and went up to the top of the tower to take a look around. Such a beautiful world!

Her next quest is to dine with the Queen! She's already awaiting the princess. (The dresscode in the castle seems to be mintgreen+white ^^')

Such an amazing castle! Ji Ho doesn't know where to look first! Ji Ho and Noxee hadn't much to do with each other in the past and since The Queen doesn't know Ji Ho ingame, it's even more intimidating.

Ji Ho doesn't even know if the Queen is a good or evil character. From what Ji Ho knows about fairytales is, that the Queen/Mother-in-law ist mostly evil and jealous of the younger and prettier princess ö.Ö' Maybe this therapy experience isn't as amazing as it seems? Plus: Lou mentioned that, after Prince Caleb and Princess Jihovere are married, The Queen will have to leave and Caleb will be King... Maybe marrying The Prince wasn't the challenge in this game but staying alive?

Ji Ho decided to adress it right away. This is just a game and he's determined to make good progress so he can finally dig out his buried feelings so he can love Vlad. Ji Ho: "Won't it be hard for you to retreat after Caleb becomes King?"

The Queen: "Oh my precious, don't you worry! This is just a constitutional monarchy here and we do not have any power. It's just for the show. To be honest: It's not that desireable to have the eyes of 'our subjects' on us all the time. They have more power over us than we over them ^^' Many are just lurking until we take a false step and: off the head! I can't wait to return to my own little queendom." The Queen sighed and looked a bit sad.

But soon she smiled again, the show must go on. She's a real pro. The Queen: "Let's finish our meal. There's still a lot to do before the wedding. You're from the Kingdom under the Sea and our habits are so different from yours. A lot to learn for you. We won't let you get roasted for not being an appropriate Queen for our King, right?" Ji Ho let out a nervous laugh: "Right, Your Royal Highness."

Princess Jihovere sat in the garden. It was calmingly quiet and so relaxing to just sit here in the sun, nothing was worrying him here. Ji Ho is determined to make the most of this experience and to cherish these reposeful moments after all the madness they had to go through. And who knows what lies in their future...

The Queen instructed the Princess to stitch a few loops. That's obviously still a valuable trait in the upper echolons of society here.

She was intrigued by the statue of a stunning man in the garden and decided to stich the beautiful face of him.

Princess Jihovere made good progress since Ji Ho enjoys stitching in the real world too.

The princess spent many hours in the garden stitching many loops of the beautiful statue. And she was very happy doing this. There's so much happening in their lives that they barely have time to sit down in peace and silence and create something just for the joy of it - and not to earn money. And the statue was so beautiful to look at. It had a very special (and oddly familiar) presence on Ji Ho. It was as if the statue was looking back at him. As if he wanted to tell him something. A real master of his art must have created it. And he must have had a very handsome model.

Meanwhile in the Throne Room, a very grumpy Throne Prince sat on the Throne. What's up with him? He's going to marry a beautiful princess!

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

#underwater love #therapy game #the one #woo ji ho #Ji Ho's therapy game #ji ho stitching #noxeema jackson #The Castle #windenburg #windslar #the statue #sims 4 story #simlit #simblr #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 vanilla #sims stories #current household #the sims #sims 4 vampires #caleb vatore

[w1ldthoughts]

Entering the Private Garden

A/n: A beautiful anon reminded me how much I missed this series and inspired me to come back to it! So here we are.

Series Masterlist

Synopsis: Zoey meets Jack’s friends.

“Okay so who all are you meeting today?” Jack asks, quizzing Zoey before their excursion today. He knew if he distracted her by asking questions, she’d be less nervous and freaked out about finally meeting some of his friends.

“Well Urban’s gonna be there, obviously. So that’ll be a nice buffer. He loves me.”

Jack playfully rolls his eyes and grabs his keys off the counter. “He’s the toughest critic so and you’ve already won him over so it should be easy from here.”

Zoey nods slowly, desperately trying to keep her anxiety at bay. “Um, so there’s the PG guys Quiiso, Ace Pro and Nemo. Then the white boys Copelan and Sunni.”

“Hate to break it to you Zozo but I’m also a white boy. Literally, I don’t tan. At all. It’s kind of sad actually.” He laughs softly, walking into the garage after her to get in the car.

“You are but you’re my white boy so it’s different. Although I have seen a couple pictures of Sunni and I—“

Jack covers his ears in the driver’s seat and closes his eyes. “Oh my god enough with the ‘I would definitely fuck Sunni’ jokes they’re not funny.”

He’s so cute for thinking it’s a joke, Zoey thinks to herself.

“But forreal,” Jack says as he puts the car in drive, “you don’t have to worry about anything. They’re probably going to be all over my ass because of who I am when I’m with you.”

She laughs softly putting her hand over his that was resting on her thigh. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Jack has rented out this lounge area on the rooftop of a restaurant for the occasion and they were met with smiling faces and a little bit of yelling when the couple walked in holding hands. Zoey was welcomed with hugs as went through a different handshake with each one of his friends. Things started off light with stories from the time Jack tried to perform Fergalicious at his middle school talent show to their commercial experience for Jack’s New Balance campaign.

It was heartwarming to listen to some of his favorite people talk about the journey they’d been on together. And the idea that there was so much more to come was both exciting and overwhelming for him. But then he was reminded that he had the perfect partner in all of this. Zoey had felt him tense up next to her and placed a hand on his knee, her touch immediately allowed him to relax and get out of his head for a bit. All he could do was nod slowly when she mouthed “are you okay” because he felt as though his heart was going to burst.

Then his heart fell to his stomach when Clay and Quiiso asked Zoey if she wanted to talk, in private. He gave his brother a pleading look in hopes that he could quietly sit in on the conversation but his girlfriend assured him she’d be fine so he tried to focus on his conversation with Nemo and Urban but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Bro if you hold that glass any tighter you’re going to be digging for it out of your skin…in the ER. And I’m not tryna do all that today.” Nemo laughs.

Urban shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “You seriously need to unclench your asshole, Zoey is not scared of Clay or Quiiso, so you don’t need to stress.”

“I’m not worried about his ‘intimidating brother’ tactic I’m worried about her. What if she doesn’t get along with them and y’all are an extension of my family so I need this to go well.”

The two men in front of him shared a knowing look and Nemo laughed so hard he almost spilled his drink. Urban wiped tears from his ears with a sigh, “damn. I ain’t laughed that hard in a minute.”

“Would you two care to share with the class? I wanna laugh.” Jack muttered, clearly unamused as his friends started giggling again. “What could possibly be so fucking funny right now?”

“You’re in love man. It’s all over your face. And body. It’s everywhere.” Nemo said blankly, finally containing his laughter. “It’s just funny that you can’t even see it.”

Jack opened his mouth to speak but Urban interrupted him. “If you fix your mouth to say you don’t love Zoey I’m throwing this bottle at your head.” Urban said, glaring into his best friend’s soul. “You worship the ground she walks on, you actually value her opinion and what she not only thinks of you but of all of us. I mean hell, you haven’t stopped sneaking glances over there to make sure everything is okay. So please, lie to yourself but don’t sit here and lie to us. We know you better than that.”

Meanwhile Zoey was having the time of her life. Quiiso had gone to play beer pong with Ace against Sunni and Cope so it was just her and Clay. They shared a mutual feeling of nerves meeting each other, Clay admitting that although Jack had introduced him to women before, based on their conversations he knew this time was different. And this wasn’t Zoey’s first time being introduced to a boyfriend’s friends and brother but Jack was special.

“Okay I feel like I have to ask because I’ve talked to him about this but…why him?” Clay had come into today with a plan. Most women thought they loved Jack because of what he could give them. Private flights, five star restaurants and hotels, any purse or accessory they could dream of and he needed to see where Zoey’s head was at. Just to determine if this would last because he could tell that his brother had fallen, hard.

She took a sip of her drink and took a moment to gather her thoughts, ready to speak honestly. “Well, it wasn’t him at first. I’m sure he told you about how we met and he acted exactly like I had assumed he would and I was turned off immediately. But then he apologized and we talked more and we went on a few dates and it hit me. He’s everything to me.”

“Jack sees good in everything, especially people.” She continues. “He is funny and smart and creative and thoughtful. He’s emotional but only allows some of it to show because he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him, as he’s trying to take care of everyone he’s ever met. He is driven and focused and spontaneous but not irresponsible. He’s confident and a little cocky but in a way that doesn’t make you feel bad about yourself and he’s honestly one of the greatest people I’ve ever known.”

The music producer ran his hand over his mouth, trying to hide a smile. He caught his brother’s gaze and gave Zoey a hug whispering “thank you for taking care of him.” The two walked back to the other table as the group all came together again.

A few hours later, they were back at Jack’s house. Zoey had taken off her makeup and was looking for the perfect T-shirt of her boyfriend’s to steal. She settled on a yellow “Not For Sale” shirt and biker shorts.

“Today was fun! Your friends were sweet as I expected.” She walked back into his closet where he’d changed into a black tank top and New Balance sweats. He turned around in her arms when she wrapped them around his waist and stood on her tiptoes to press her lips against his freckled shoulder. “I really did have a great time and I just really appreciate how—”

“I love you.” Jack blurts out.

Zoey felt her throat closing up. “What?” She whispered, all the air in her lungs was gone.

He pressed his body against hers even more, feeling the rapid drumming of her heartbeat. It matched his perfectly but his was out of excitement. “I said I love you. I love you Zo. So much.” Jack couldn’t help the smile that was taking over his face.

“Finally.” Zoey sighed and he gave her a confused look so she had to elaborate. “I’ve said it so many times in my head the last few months that I was really waiting for the day I’d slip up and say it out loud. Truthfully, I needed you to say it first, after I admitted my feelings the last time and you shut me down. I just don’t—I didn’t know if I could take that again. I needed to know where you were at.”

“And now I do.” She matches his smile. “I love you too, baby. More than life.”

He gave her a relieved kiss, a content sigh brushed against her tongue as one of his hands caressed her face. Zoey allowed her eyes to close, letting out a hum of pleasure, trying to memorize this moment as a sense of calm washed over her. It felt like coming home after an extended vacation and walking into your room for the first time. An immense sense of serenity and appreciation for the pillows that support your head and the warm blanket that is draped over your body. Where everything was as it should be. She was exactly where she belonged and being in his arms, kissing him forever was exactly what she intended to do with the man she could now confirm loved her as much as she loved him.

Taglist

@jackharloww

@killatravtramp

@middlechild404

@harlowcomehome

@itsyagirljaz

@iknowdatsrightbih

@earthtoharlow

@heavyhitterheaux

@hoodharlow

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x oc #jack x zoey #jackman thomas harlow

[chaoticamelay]

How to get books about Palestine in your local library (it's very quick and easy!) 🍉

An NYC couple stole 5 pro-Palestinian children's books from their library to 'prevent indoctrination'. For everyone who thinks all people should have access to these stories: your local library might not have any books about Palestine… BUT here’s how you can help them get some!! It’s super easy and takes five minutes!

First, go on the website of your local library, or any that you have a library card for! (I picked a random library as an example, bc Internet safety is important)

2. Then, search the book you want the library to have, just to check if it’s there. If it is, great! You can pick a different book and check again. If it isn’t there, proceed to the next step. (I searched Homeland: My Father Dreams of Palestine, one of the stolen books.) The library didn't have it!

3. Next step might take a bit: you need to find the spot on the site to submit purchase requests. Sometimes it’ll be obvious and other times it might take digging- often it’s at the bottom of the site, or under browse as “suggest a new title”. Here it was under Can’t Find It? In the library info section, and then click “suggest a purchase”!

4. Click on the link and fill out the form! It will ask for title, author, publishing date, target audience, and possibly ISBN: you can find all this info online! I’ll also add some at the end of this post. You’ll also likely need to add your name and library card number so they know the request is coming from someone who uses the library… this particular one didn’t though!

5. Hit submit and you’re done! You can then do this for more books at all the libraries you have cards with :) Go forth and get Palestinian content into your local libraries 🍉

Some books to search: (the ones in bold are the ones stolen from the NYC library, btw!)

Homeland: My Father Dreams of Palestine by Hannah Moushabeck. Published 2023 by Chronicle Books LLC. Children’s book, ISBN 9781797225906

These Olive Trees by Aya Ghanameh Published 2023 by Viking Books For Young Readers. Children’s book, ISBN 9780593525180

Sitti’s Key by Sahar Khader Ali Published 2023 by Little Hibba. Children’s book, ISBN 9798395349675

What the Kite Saw by Anne Laurel Carter Published 2021 by Groundwood Books. Children's book, ISBN 9781773062433

My Garden over Gaza by Sarah Musa. Published 2022 by Ruqaya's Bookshelf. Children's book, ISBN 9781989079256

We Are Palestinian: A Celebration of Culture and Tradition by Reem Kassis Published 2023 by Crocodile Books. Children's book, ISBN 9781623717254

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #right to read #🍉 #jews for palestine #public libraries #ceasefire now

[compusever]

Hi there! Bit of a weird question, and I’m not sure if this is the right blog for this, but… best laptop for privacy? I’m going to go to uni in a year and my parents have said that they’re going to buy me a laptop, which is awesome, except— I don’t know which one to chose? I’ve never had a laptop before but I try to take being private online as seriously as I can, and so I don’t really care… well, like, I do care that the laptop has good storage and works and stuff, but I care mostly about how private it is. Which one supports adding privacy-related stuff the best? Which one steals your data the least? I… am actually not sure what kind of questions I should be asking, since… again, never had a laptop before, and I don’t know what about its make makes it private (other than like general online privacy practices across all devices), so I was just wondering if you had any recommendations for me? Tldr: don’t care about fancy features, just want a laptop that more or less works, but would love privacy to be the main focus. This can sort of come at the expense of convenience - I don’t care it if’s harder to set up, use, etc., so long as I can connect to the internet with it.

So the hardware is pretty agnostic on this, the place where privacy is going to become an issue is in the software.

Windows loves to track you and send your data back to homebase; Apple is a walled garden that doesn't let people get deep into configurations; linux is intimidating for a lot of people.

Your actual best bet on privacy would be to get a laptop with no OS and install a linux distro on it, but it sounds like that's probably not something that's terribly approachable for you. So in that case I'd recommend getting a Windows laptop (mac prices aren't worth it) and going through this list to change the settings to ensure better privacy.

HOWEVER please note that you should be getting a laptop with a full OS. Windows has an option for "windows 11s" or "windows 10s" and first off you should be going with 11 at this point but second that "s" means that there are pretty strict limitations on what you can do as a user in terms of configuration and installation.

If you are willing to pay a bit more for Windows 11 Pro instead of windows 11 Home, the pro license cuts off some of the more annoying tracking that Windows does automatically, but I'd say you're better off simply getting the home license and really digging into the settings and getting to know it and setting it up for yourself.

BUT if it's at all possible, honestly I'd say get a bare metal laptop (that means it's just the hardware, no software, you need to install an operating system before you do anything) and install linux. HOWEVER keep in mind that there are some significant downsides to using linux as a student, mostly that you'll likely run into software at some point that you won't be able to install. Also if you're not already pretty good with computers it can be difficult to keep a linux machine running (but very easy to make it private; that's the tradeoff - you can make it more secure more easily, but you really have to know how to fix your own computer if something goes wrong.)

For your situation, again, I think a Windows 11 Home laptop with the settings adjusted is your best bet.

Absolutely positively don't get a chromebook (you've got no control of the settings on a chromebook and the thing is made to feed information to google) and don't get a mac (you can get better specs on a PC at a lower cost).

For an idea of budget on this, I'd say you can probably get something from Dell, Lenovo, or HP for around $650-1000 dollars that's got decent specs (12th gen or newer i5 processor, 16gb RAM, 512GB SSD) and maybe something more like $500-800 from acer, asus, or samsung. Whatever computer you end up getting, you should get the added drop protection warranty because that means the manufacturer will fix your laptop if you drop it, something that is a bigger deal for college students than most people (because of your environment you're more likely to end up with drop damage than a lot of people AND because you're a college student you probably won't be able to afford to fix or replace the computer)

Good luck!

[backtothefanfiction]

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Seventeen: A Friend In The Shadows

Summary: Angel is ready to run but gets turned around by a friend with some interesting information.

Warnings: 18+ Only, genre typical content, weapons, reckless driving's mentions of murder and poisoning

Word Count 1.8k+

A/N: Another slightly shorter chapter but don't worry our last couple chapters to come are much longer to make up for it. Just like our last chapter though, although it is a little short, it does still pack a punch and flesh things out. Who's ready to find out more about Harry's betrayal?

SEVENTEEN

She shouldn’t have driven. Should have ordered a car, but she didn’t want to risk someone stopping her. Her heart was in her mouth the whole journey, a lump in her throat she couldn’t quite swallow as she took shallow breaths, hands raking nervously through her hair the whole way to the airstrip. 

Her phone rang out from the centre console, yet again. Her fingers raced to decline the call. Tears welled in her eyes. She really shouldn’t be driving.

She slammed on the breaks as she pulled up to the hanger, the tires screeching against the tarmac. Her fingers clawed at her chest and the bandages still wrapped around it. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She closed her eyes as she slammed her head back against the headrest, her chest heaving as she tried to take slower deeper breaths. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t watch this happen. Not again.

A sudden knock at the car window made her jump. “Mrs Parker?” a concerned voice called out. “Mrs Parker, are you okay?” The voice asked again.

She reluctantly began to climb out of the car, smoothing down her clothes, a false air of composure washing over her. “Yes, Henry.” she said, flashing him a smile. “Is our Captain here yet?”

“He’s still filing a couple pieces of paperwork before we can leave, but there is someone else here to see you.”

“Who?” she quickly said, panic flying into her voice.

“Umm he didn’t really give his-”

“Angel.” A gruff voice said from the shadows of the hanger.

Angel frowned as a figure dressed in a deep red suit, with a cowl that had short horns like a devil sticking out from the top, stepped out from the shadows. “Ma-” She went to say his name but caught herself. She curtly turned her head to dismiss Henry to chase up the Captain of the jet and start unloading her cases from the car. She slowly stepped closer to the shadows of the hanger and the figure waiting.

“Matt?” she said again, questioning his presence. Matt Murdock did a quick check before deeming the coast was clear and removing his mask to her. 

After Peter had hung up his suit, there was a vacuum for vigilante work. Matt, a pro bono lawyer by day, who eventually came to be a regular at F.E.A.S.T, had taken his own umbridge with her Father’s work. He had decided to don his own vigilante suit and cause problems for her Father in Peter’s wake. Things had come to a head a between them a few years back when Matt realised Peter had been Spider-Man. Peter and Angel had promised to keep his secret safe in exchange for Matt leaving their business alone. It had also helped that they were setting up the first hub at the time and offered Matt a salary to work with clients through the community space.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I tried to call your number but you weren’t picking up. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Wait, Matt, how did you know I was even gonna be here.”

“The Vulture.” Matt said hastily.

“Wait, what?” Angel said before Matt could get another word out.

“I found where he’s been hanging out. After your Dad died I started doing my own digging because something didn’t feel right. He’s been watching you guys.” Matt informed.

“Well, yeah-” she started to say but Matt cut her off, realising she wasn’t understanding what he meant.

“He has all these cameras set up. At your house, the apartment you guys are staying in. May’s place, the hubs, all of it.”

“What?” she frowned. “But how? I mean, the only people who have access to those places are- what is it?” she asked, noticing how Matt’s face changed to one of sorrow.

“That’s the real reason I needed to talk to you. I tried to call Peter too but he wasn’t picking up.”

“Matt, what is it?” Angel asked hastily, a look of panic and worry now on her face.

“He’s been playing you guys this whole time.”

“What- who has?”

“Harry.”

Angel froze at his words. Harry. Harry Osborn. Pete’s best friend. The thorn in her side from day one who she put up with because it was his money, from his Dad’s death, that had funded everything in the beginning. “I don’t understand.” she said as she tried to process what Matt was saying, her brain taking longer to fully acknowledge all the things suddenly flying through it.

“He’s been working with The Vulture this whole time.” Matt began to explain. “Toomes is just a cover, a boogie man for hire. Osborn’s been the one planning and instigating all of this.”

“But, why?” Angel asked with a now paranoid look over her shoulder at the sound of Henry and the Captain coming back towards the hangar.

“He found out what Peter did to his Father.”

Angel looked confused. “What do you mean, what Pete did to his Father? Norman was ill.”

“How do you think he got ill?” Matt asked.

“He said it was a genetic thing.”

“Funny that Harry has never had any symptoms.” Matt tried to help her understand.

“Wait, are you trying to tell me Peter poisoned Harry’s Dad?”

“I mean Norman did kill the love of his life.” Angel’s face fell and he knew he’d used the wrong words, but he couldn’t take them back. 

She tried to shake it off, her brain slowly connecting dots in her brain she hadn’t known were there. “You’re talking about Gwen.”

“Chief Stacy’s daughter. Yes.”

Angel took a step back shaking her head. Her hands began raking through her hair again, her breathing becoming more laboured. “How long? Do you know how long he’s known?” She asked, doubling back towards Matt.

Matt shook his head. “But I do know he’s planning on killing him. You can’t leave.” Matt said, stepping forward and taking her hands in his. “If you leave he doesn’t stand a chance.”

She stood frozen, her brain rapidly trying to weigh up the pros and cons whilst simultaneously trying to come up with a plan. Matt’s phone began to ring and they broke apart so he could answer it, Angel beginning to pace back and forth while she ruminated on her options.

“Uh huh. Uh huh.” she heard Matt say down the phone. “Okay.” he said before hanging up, the motion pulling her from her thoughts.

“What is it?”

“I was able to clone the feed from their surveillance cameras.” he paused as he tried to find the right way to tell her. “They’ve taken Peter.”

It was like someone had just dunked her in an ice bath, the sudden shock snapping her from the fog in her brain. “Where?” she commanded, her gaze growing dark.

“A warehouse on the other side of the river.”

“I need you to message me the address.” she half shouted at him as she began to back away from him, racing back towards the car.

“Mrs Parker?” Henry called as he noticed her reaching for the door handle.

“Trips off, Henry.” she shouted as she pulled open the drivers door and climbed into the car. 

She started the car, revving it for good measure before she did a U turn on the tarmac and began speeding back the way she had initially come.

Her brain was on autopilot as she began to drive not towards the city, but the house. She hadn’t been back since the night of the shoot out but it was the only place she could think of to get supplies.

She sped onto the driveway, gravel flying everywhere as she powered towards the garage at the back of the house. As she pulled up her phone chirped, a message from Karen with the address of the warehouse. She ignored it for the moment as she raced to get out of the car. 

She was relieved when she checked the garage door and it flew open with eaze. Without any cars in the garage now to conceal it, she raced over to the hatch in the floor in the back corner, heaving the metal grate that covered it out of the way.

She climbed down the metal ladder, her feet slipping on a couple of the rungs in her haste. The automatic lights began to turn themselves on with her presence as she began to assess the space. Most of the shelves had been emptied already. ‘FUCK!’ She thought. But then she noticed the marks on the floor next to a stack of shelves.

Angel moved closer, kneeling down to run her fingers against the drag marks. She quickly stood, her hands taking purchase at one end of the shelves to begin shifting them in the same directions as the marks. She was relieved to find a large reinforced door hidden behind the shelves, a keypad in the wall beside it.

She breathed deeply, wincing at the pinch in her ribs with the exertion of moving the shelves but she couldn’t dwell on it, her husband needed her. “Come on, Pete.” she muttered to herself as she began to rack her brain for potential codes.

She started with her birthday. After all, it had been the code he had used for the house. No.

Next she tried their anniversary. Nope. “Okay.” she sighed. She began punching the numbers in for Aunt May’s birthday. Still no. “Oh come on Pete.” Then it hit her. She racked her brain for the numbers before punching them in. 03-13-14. Beep. Click. 

The moment and realisation that the code had been Gwen's death date was bittersweet, as the door slid sideways as it opened. Her fondness for her husband, mixed with his continued self punishment for what had happened to Gwen all those years ago, made for a melancholy feeling. It was soon pushed to the side by a whole different feeling of shock and surprise. As fluorescent lighting illuminated the room, she found herself tentatively stepping forward. It was like stepping back in time. His old suits stood on mannequins in glass boxes. Old newspaper headlines had been framed and hung on the walls. Old blueprints for web shooters lay scattered across a desk. She pressed a button on the desk and another hidden door opened. 

When she stepped forward there was a mixture of old Spider-man gear as well as a wall covered in weapons more aligned to his current work; guns, knives, small flash bombs. 

She turned and grabbed a bag and began filling it with different weapons. She grabbed an ankle holster, strapping it and a small gun to her right leg before she grabbed another gun and slotted it into her waistband. She was about to leave when she froze, her body slowly turning towards his old spider-man gear. She found herself moving towards it, a nostalgia washing over her body. She picked up one of his web shooters, turning it over in her hands. She tossed it up in the air once, then twice as she thought, before placing it too in the bag and leaving.

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

New chapters go live on Wednesdays and Fridays! If you want to be added to the tag list make sure you put it in writing for me. Also if you are enjoying the story don’t forget to tip me like you would your waiter by reblogging and leaving feedback and letting me know what you think!

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

#the angel in the garden of evil #peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #mob!peter parker #mob!peter #mob!au #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #the amazing spiderman #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #andrew peter parker #mob spiderman #spiderverse #miguel o'hara #harry osborn #felicia hardy #gwen stacy #daredevil #matt murdock #peter parker x fisk daughter #fisk reader #fisk daughter #peter parker au #the vulture #adrian toomes

[ceno8yte]

Going on a TERF/radfem blocking/Shinigami Eyes spree is so fucking telling since going through the recommended accounts in the sidebar creates a direct line from garden-variety TERFs, to tradwives, Christians, and pro-lifers, and then directly into wojak-posting alt-righters.

It's like digging for treasure in the backyard as a kid and hitting the fucking septic tank.

#valtalks #trans stuff #serious #transphobia #terf to tradwife pipeline

[leighsartworks216]

The Viper: Rewritten

Chapter One

Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7

Jaskier x gn!Witcher!Reader

AO3 - I recommend reading it there bc it's kinda long lol

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of blood

Word Count: 3753

Masterlist

Tag List Form

You pushed yourself onto your tip-toes. The wood beneath your feet was warmed by the fire in the nearby hearth, and worn down with time. Your eyes barely reached over the tabletop. What miniscule strength you had in your arms aided in the effort, pulling you upward to peer even an inch more over the top.

Your mother chuckled at your efforts. From across the table, she had watched as you wandered from your bedroom, bright-eyed and eager for breakfast. With a smile on her face, she went back to ladling porridge into three bowls. Nimble fingers carefully laid down slices of wild strawberries, adjusting them all until it was perfect. Your stomach grumbled with hunger.

Mother wiped her fingers on a cloth at her waist. Mirthful eyes landed back on you. Finally, she pushed a bowl over to your chair. You wasted no time crawling into the seat and digging into the meal. She chided you softly on your manners, reminding you to use a spoon to eat rather than your hands.

She disappeared through the doorway to give Father his bowl. You almost finished eating by the time she came back inside, face creased with worry. She continued to smile, however, hiding whatever was troubling her.

After breakfast, you got dressed and ran outside into the mid-morning sun to help in the garden. Cold dirt pressed into your knees as you helped your father pull weeds. Sometimes, you wouldn’t be strong enough to rip the unwanted growths from the earth. Wordlessly, as if he always somehow knew, Father swooped in and plucked them out easily.

After weeding, you and Father would go to the well in the center of town. He carried both empty buckets there, but you always carried one sloshing bucket full of water back. Even if you did have to carry it with both hands, and even if water spilled over the sides onto the street.

Neighbors made way as you passed, giving you words of encouragement all the while. Sometimes they would stop Father for a minute to chat. You never really understood what it was they spoke about. Sometimes they would talk about an emperor, or pests that ate their crops. More frequently, they began talking about snakes. You’d never seen a snake before. You hoped you could see one, one day.

With a scoop, you and Father watered the fruits, herbs, and vegetables. You poured water over the base of the plants and watched the dirt soak it up. With wide eyes and a racing heart, you stared in awe as the dirt began shifting. You called your father over, but he just watched in amusement as a frog popped out from under the wet dirt.

As you busied yourself trying to catch the slippery creature, he tended to the farm horse. It was a big horse - much bigger than you - with huge feet and long hair around her ankles. According to your mother, you’d been really scared of it when they first got her. You cried and hid behind their legs, watching the behemoth to see if it would attack you. Now you weren’t as afraid. Sometimes, if you had extra, Father would let you feed her carrots, and she would nudge you with her big snout.

When you caught the frog, Father would tell you to head inside for lunch. Mother didn’t like frogs. You had to let it go.

Mother would already have food prepared. Warm bread that she made herself, sliced and with cheese from the market to go with it. Sometimes there would be fruit with it, or even a bit of fish. She would make sure you washed your hands before you could eat, though, especially if you caught a frog beforehand. She told you once that her cousin would play with frogs and then eat, and she got poisoned and died. It wasn’t enough to scare you from playing with the things, but you didn’t argue as much about washing your hands.

You’d look out the window as you ate. Or, sometimes the door would be propped open and you could look out into the street. Neighbors bustled about in the midday sun. Women washed and hung up laundry. Some worked with looms or spun their own yarn. Men tended to fields, built weapons and tools, or crafted tanned hides into gloves and aprons. They all passed through the village with grins, greetings, and pride in their work.

The village didn’t have much flora aside from the crops people grew. The grounds were formed with uneven dirt or slimy mud, with boots, horse prints, and cart wheels all leaving their marks in the roads. A little patch of grass sprouted in here and there, but it was trampled out within a week.

There was, however, one tree. It wasn’t actually within the borders of the town at all. No, if it had been, it would have been killed off. Rather, it stood up on a hill, visible from the kitchen window. There was forest spread out behind it. Dead or dying grasses and weeds flooded the field before it, in between your house and the oak. But the brown grass never touched that hill. As soon as the earth began sloping upward, the grass was lush and green. You vowed to one day leave the walls of the village, climb that hill, and see that tree up close.

One day.

You finished eating and climbed down from your chair. Mother put a plate in your hand, full of the same thing you’d just eaten, and told you to bring it out to your father. Father took it, ruffled your hair, and sat in a chair propped up against the house while he ate. He never said what he looked at. Your best guess was that he people watched just like you. Or maybe he, too, thought about seeing that great big oak tree up close.

You sat by the fire with your mother. Usually you would unravel and re-roll her balls of yarn back together. More recently, she helped you learn how to sew. She would pass you a shirt or pair of pants with a hole in them and show you how to thread a needle. She’d show you how to stitch up the hole so the thread was barely noticeable. When you inevitably poked your fingers with the sharp needle, she would kiss the boo-boo with a gentle chide to be more careful.

To pass the time, she would ask you about your morning. You would ramble on and on about the weeds and plants, how you carried a full bucket all by yourself, and the little critters you saw. If you didn’t know what they were called, she was always patient as you explained what they looked like so she could provide the name for you. Today you saw a ladybug, a cricket, and a spider. She already knew about the frog.

As the sun went down, Father stopped tending to the garden and animals. He would come inside, grab a bow and a quiver of arrows, and go off hunting in the woods. You asked once if he went by the hill. He just shook his head and said there were too many monsters over that way.

He would come back with fresh-caught game, if he was lucky. This time he carried a large doe across his shoulders. If the weight ached his back and creaked his bones, he didn’t complain.

Your parents worked together to prepare the meat from the catch. Father would skin it and carve out the meat. Mother would make a stew and show him where to hang up the pelt. You weren’t old enough to help out. Mother said she didn’t want you watching, either. Instead, while they cooked, you would go to your room and finish up fixing the clothes.

You’d all eat together once it was ready. Your tiny legs never reached the floor; they kicked freely under the table, almost but not quite scraping the wooden boards. Mother and Father spoke of the world. You didn’t understand. The conversation would slowly make its way to the neighbors and their lives. You understood some things, but other things went right over your head.

You finished your stew before they did. Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as your belly was filled. They would pause in their meals to carry you to your room. Father laid you down, but Mother tucked you in. They both kissed your forehead and blew out the candles around your room. The door creaked when it closed behind them.

You’d wake up tomorrow and begin the cycle all over again. It was perfect. The world was bright, new, and beautiful. Your hands had yet to form calluses. Your eyes were yet to dim with the harsh realities of the world.

That was all behind you now.

-

Cold nipped at your fingers and nose, intensifying as a breeze brushed past. You did not let it distract you.

The pendulums before you danced in a methodical tango. The spikes protruding from the wood were dulled with blood, and no longer glinted in the midday sun. Your piercing yellow eyes followed their movements, searching for an opening, timing exactly when they reached their zeniths.

“C’mon, Rat, we don’t have all day!” You cursed your brother. Your heart jumped with anxiety.

You would not allow yourself to fall again.

As the first pendulum reached its highest point to your left, you jumped through the gap. You felt the woosh of the second one as it passed mere inches from your face. You did not allow your feet to become unsteady on the unbalanced wooden beam beneath you.

The second and third reached their peaks. You seized the opportunity and leapt past both onto the next platform. In your eagerness, you almost got scratched in the face by the rotating wooden spikes before you.

You ducked down and passed through the gaps in between the layers. Easy. You let out a shaky breath as you turned to the pegs in the wall. The wood was worn down over excessive use, almost smooth now. You could slip and fall several feet into the hard concrete below- No. Focus.

With a deep breath in, you sprinted across the pegs. You nearly lost your balance on one, but pushed through to the next platform, where you almost skidded off the edge from your momentum.

“You’re almost there!” your brother called out again. You risked a glance down at him. Your other siblings had also gathered around, ready to watch you finally pass this training exercise, or fall flat once again. “Just don’t fall on your arse!”

Oh, you were so strangling him when you got down from here.

You jumped onto the swinging platform and stood at the front edge. You kept your knees loose, staying level with the motion of the swing.

Almost there.

Almost there.

The swing reached its peak, and you leapt for the ropes. Cold metal brushed your fingertips as gravity took hold. With barely a second to react, you curled into yourself, and landed on the hard concrete.

Disappointed sighs filled the courtyard as people left, until the only people left were you and your closest sibling.

Stuldweck leaned over your body, spread out on the ground. You looked past him to the sky, repetitively revealed and hidden as the swing shifted. He raised an eyebrow.

“Gonna get off the ground anytime soon, Rat?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m just going to decompose, right here. Take care of Oalvir in my absence.”

He chuckled low and warm. “He’d be kicked out within a day.”

A slight grin found your lips. “Probably.”

Stuldweck held out a hand. You took it without further delay. With strength twice as great as your own, he lifted you back to your feet and slapped your back. “You gave it your best shot, Rat. Nothing else for it.”

“I was so close, Stul. So close! I touched the rings this time! I was right there!” You walked side by side with your brother as he guided you out of the courtyard and through the walls of Gorthur Gvaed - the Viper School. You grumbled, “And I fucked it up. Again.”

“You’ll get it soon!”

Stuldweck was your beacon of light in this shitty castle. Ever since you were little kids, he looked after you. You were the weakest of the bunch. The mages were surprised when you woke from the Trial of Grasses at all, and yet you still had to help dispose of the bodies of the dozens others who did not make it. Stul, arguably the strongest of the Adepts, kept you sane.

“How many tries did it take me?” he asked rhetorically. “Thirty-eight! You’re only at - What? - 19? And you’re faster than anybody else!”

“Because I’m a rat,” you teased. The nickname was given to you affectionately when you were younger. Because you were small and weak, your brothers would all say you could be eaten by a snake in one bite, like a sickly little rat. As you grew, however, it morphed into being more agile and sneaky than the rest.

He slung his arm around your neck, pulling you into a playful hug. “Exactly!” You shoved him off, laughing, as you both stumbled through the Keep. “And when you graduate, you'll be the best Viper around!”

A swell of emotion welled in your chest. It was warm and airy. Your smile became more muted as you looked at him. “You really think so?”

He smiled, genuinely. It was not a crooked smirk with teeth. His eyes were not playful or withholding truths in their depths. His dark skin crinkled around his mouth, and softened around his eyes. “Of course I do.”

Like a gas lighting aflame, the emotion in your chest burst into relief and joy. Before the soft moment between siblings could linger, he ruffled your hair and shoved your face away. “C’mon, Rat, you’re on kitchen duty.”

You chuckled and shoved him back. “Arsehole!”

-

“You’ve been creeping around all morning,” you pointed out. Stuldweck paused in the middle of dunking his bread in some warm broth, like a child caught breaking something. “Care to tell me why?”

He grinned knowingly. “You’ll see.”

You glanced to another table at the front of the banquet hall, filled from end to end with the mentors of the school. The Grandmaster, Ivar Evil-Eye, was engrossed in an ancient scroll, oblivious to the goings on before him. He was always like that. The mentors were truly the ones doing the heavy lifting, training students and doling out harsh punishments.

Lingering on the mentors a moment longer, searching for any hint they could be listening, you learned over the table and spoke in a hushed voice. “Is it another prank? Oalvir told me he had something in the works - is it that?”

Stul chuckled as he shook his head.  You sat back on the bench with a huff.

“What is it then?” you demanded.

“If you get through the obstacle course - unharmed - I’ll show you. Until then,” he made a motion of zipping his lips together, “not a word about it.”

Two sets of yellow eyes stared into each other. You squinted, studying his face for any microexpressions. Though, of course, you’d been trained well not to give anything away under pressure. It was not training one so lightly forgot.

Admitting defeat, you heaved a sigh. “Fine. Let’s go then!”

Startled, he dropped his chunk of bread into his broth. “Now? You haven’t even finished eating!”

“I’ve had enough; I need to know what you’re hiding! So, c’mon, let’s go.”

You were already standing, pushing your bowl and plate away as all eyes became fixed on the sudden movement. Stuldweck stuttered, gesturing at his own food. “Take it with you! And try not to choke when I land on that final platform.”

-

Cold air brushed your cheeks once again as you stood at the starting line. Unsurprisingly, the whole school decided lunch was not as interesting as watching you fall on your arse would be. Even the Grandmaster set his scroll down in favor of joining the crowd.

Everyone could hear the way your heart stuttered under the scrutinizing gazes of your siblings. It filled your ears. Your hands became clammy.

No. Don’t panic. Stay focused. You trained for this - you can do it.

Your eyes shifted from the swinging pendulums before you to the crowd. Up front, arms crossed and brow furrowed, stood Stuldweck. He nodded assuringly to you. Almost as quiet as a mouse, his voice found your ears.

“You’ve got this, Rat.”

It was all you needed to hear.

You looked ahead once more. The cold air of the mountain valley dried the back of your throat. The pendulums taunted you with their repetitive dance. Through them, you saw the rusted rings. You weren’t going to let them slip through your fingers again. Not this time.

With a speed never before seen within these damned walls, you weaved through the pendulums and spinning wooden spikes. You hardly paused at all before sprinting up the pegs on the wall and turning sharply onto the swinging platform.

And now, the rings. You remembered last time, when your fingers brushed the cool metal as you fell to the hard stone floor below. Not this time.

Time seemed to slow as the swing neared your target. The nervous, short breaths of your siblings, the subtle scuff of boots against the stone as Ivar and Stuldweck stepped forward, the vultures and hawks screeching in the distance - it all fell on deaf ears. You braced yourself.

And then you jumped.

Only this time, you caught the rings and held on with a death grip. Your arms pulled on your sockets as your body weight listened to gravity’s beckoning call. You would not fall into her siren’s trap this time. You swung your legs back and followed through with the momentum as you were propelled forward, letting go of the rings at the forward peak of your swing. With a hard thud, you landed on the final platform.

Silence. Then, the cheers of your brothers was all you could hear.

Your heart raced with adrenaline as you climbed down the ladder, only to be swarmed with arms slung over your shoulders and pats on the back and knuckles digging into the crown of your head. Congratulations were thrown around like rice at a wedding. All you could do was smile and breathlessly chuckle like a madman.

As the commotion settled and your siblings departed to return to their now-cold meals, you turned to Stul, who embraced you with powerful arms. “Do I get to see what you’ve been up to now?” you asked.

He laughed next to your ear before he roughly pulled away to drag you back into the Keep and through the halls. To your surprise, he did not drag you to his quarters or even back to the banquet hall. Instead, he pulled you through to the front of the School, and through the grand front doors to the courtyard. He stopped you in the center of the barren yard, but moved toward the empty stables.

“I wanted to do something special for your eventual success,” he began. You couldn’t stop looking at the hand he had resting on a stall door. “So, I pulled a couple of strings and…” He took a breath. Was he nervous? He smiled. “Well, here you go!”

In one fluid motion, he pushed the sliding door out of the way. Standing in the strewn hay upon wobbly legs, was a foal. The small horse snorted and backed away from the door. He was… You had no words to describe the feeling within you. Adoration? Awe? Elation?

The colt watched cautiously as you slowly stepped forward. His coat was light and well-groomed, with grey mottling all down his body, and dark flowing hair. You knelt at the doorway. After a moment, the horse neared.

“You…” You swallowed, still in disbelief. “You got me a horse?”

“Well, a foal, yeah.” You could hear the wide grin in his voice. “What’re you gonna name him?”

The colt stepped forward until it was almost face-to-face with you. He watched and waited to see if you would do anything. You made sure he saw your hand as you slowly raised it up. When he did not react or jump away, you pet the soft coat along his neck. He snorted at the gentle contact.

“Bayard,” you decided. “I’ll call him Bayard.”

Stul snorted at the name. “Are you sure? You don’t want to call him Ard Feainn or something?”

You scoffed, leveling him with an annoyed stare. “I didn’t think you were so big on religion,” you teased.

“It’s a more powerful name than Bayard,” he mocked, albeit playfully. He held his arms upward in dramatic fashion. “The Great Sun! As mighty a steed as the Continent has ever witnessed!”

You hit his leg, causing him to laugh and drop his arms. The youngling horse became startled at the sudden movement and scampered back into the stall.

“Alright! Alright! Bayard it is then.” Stul crossed his arms and leaned against the door. He sighed pensively. “Just one more trial and we’re out of here.”

Oh the thought of being free from these hallowed halls - it caused your heart to flutter and yearn for the outside world. It was so rarely that any Adept could leave the school, even to hunt for game. The only times you set foot on real dirt ground was for monster training. And even then, you were not allowed to stray far.

One final test to deem you worthy, and you would be set loose on the world. You could accept real contracts, interact with real people, fight real monsters! Your head spun just imagining it.

“Does anybody know what the final trial is?” you frowned, looking up at your brother for answers.

He thought for a moment, a frown tugging his features down, before shaking his head. “No idea. I’ll try asking Oalvir - that nitwit can figure anything out.” He noticed the frown taking over your previously joyous expression. “Hey,” he propped a hand on your shoulder, “don’t worry about it. You’ll do great no matter what it is.”

You managed a weak smile. “You will, too, Stul. We’ll make it out of here together - or not at all.”

---

Tag List:

(Lemme know if you wanna be removed)

@writeawaythepain

@sleepyqueerenergy

@lex-caspartine

@lastwandastan

@adozenforks

@plaguedoctorsnake

@solomonssimp

#fanfic #fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #jaskier x reader #jaskier #jaskier the bard #witcher jaskier #the witcher jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt & reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader #cross posted on ao3

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Rags to Werewolves Challenge: Week Three

Min Jun earned another skill point, which I used to unlock the ENHANCED SMELL ability. So from then on it was scavenge, baby, scavenge...

Except not quite so close to Greggy's territory, maybe.

cw: vanilla gameplay pixelated nudity in one shot

It was Day Fifteen, most of what was spent on trying out the shiny new Werewolf ability. Which - if you do want to complete the Moonwood collection - is a very useful ability to have, as your Sim can scent out nearby treasure and dig it out. As it was, I just sold everything he found, the cheapest of which was around §75.

The glowing smoke effect above is found treasure. It can be hard to see if you've paused the game but easier if unpaused, since the movement is eye catching.

By evening Min Jun's social needs were getting a little low so I sent him to chill respectfully with the Collective. You can tell that he's not a Wildfangs girlie just by looking at him.

Another plus of his new ability? He also gets positive moodlets if he scents other werewolves nearby (though I haven't tried Greg).

Sparring also works.

Day Sixteen dawned wet and rainy so Min Jun took advantage of the wet conditions (pro tip: showering in the rain also 'relieves' a condition other than hygiene).

Alice Spencer-Kim must have had quite the view.

Then it was back home to decipher some cowplant skull engravings (something you can do if you've unlocked the LUNAR EPIPHANY ability) before he sold it for another §75.

I then sent him to Grimtooth to busk only guess which idiot showed up in broad daylight? Vladislaus not only has zero sunlight resistance, but the THIN SKINNED trait. I sent Min Jun to chill with the Wildfangs until he figured out to go home autonomously.

A quick snack mid busking, He could also grab free chips from the bar but it's fun to use the bunker.

He just reached Level 8 on the guitar, which as well as earning simoleons seems to garner some not exactly unwanted attention.

The bears arrived and were okay tippers, although they were pretty quick to judge Min Jun when someone howled nearby and the chain reaction inevitably occurred.

Thanks to a day of digging and busking, Day Seventeen finally sees Min Jun with a functional home! Well, kinda.

(I don't think he can woo hoo in that bed with vanilla gameplay, the way it's pushed up against the wall. But as long as he hasn't used it recently for a different purpose, that's what the party bush is for.)

He then hung around the Moonwood library digging up things and smelling new smells. Apparently Julia Wright's scent is just delightful (she's not stinky, that's just the enhanced smell mechanic).

I had finally figured out why the option to join a pack wasn't coming up (you need to be a friend of it first) so he wolfnapped the night away in the picnic spot. And for some reason on Day Eighteen he woke up very Furyous.

Kristopher was nearby and autonomously pacified him thanks Daddy.

And so Sul-Sul! He became a FRIEND OF THE COLLECTIVE.

The ghosts (and Lou) were also good tippers.

On Day Nineteen he successfully completed his pack trial (this is just friendly sparring guys, he's fine) and the Collective said "you can sit with us." He didn't make much money but since he'd completed the challenge goals of having a functional home, it was a day off grinding for him.

Day Twenty was spent busking at the Gnome's Arms, being a positive werewolf ambassador and extending wolfy goodwill not just to mere mortals. He also did enough gardening and fishing to level up a pack rank, which unlocked the PACIFY ability for him.

On Day Twenty-One he unlocked the ENERGETIC trait (even the Collective members are big on fitness) and cleaned off afterwards away from any judging non-wolfy eyes, in accordance with his new pack values.

This one final wolf bath pushed him over to the VETERAN level, so now he has near complete lunar resistance and - so long as his Fury's not otherwise close to tipping point - can pretty much ignore the Full. Less desirable was the NIGHT WOLF trait he unlocked, which wouldn't be great for a 9 to 5 gig but would make him a pretty helpful co-parent.

Later that night, he continued his Collective poster child good deeds by pacifying the Wildfangs (yep, we figured that they may need some help).

That red glow around them is not Fury (which looks slightly different) but the scent Min Jun gets from other wolves. Other occults have different scents, which have different effects - and well, you can probably guess what moodlet smelling vampires produces.

"Just your friendly neighbourhood Collective member doing his civic duty! Have a good night and remember not to piss on any doormats!"

While he had taken care of their Fury, the Full Moon still had them very angry. So off they stomped, likely to teach some poor vampire patron some very unfortunate lesson in (un)life.

He took advantage of his new LUNAR RESISTANCE ability to spend the night busking, and as the third and final week wraps up, that is where we will leave him. His house + yard are worth 8k, he has nearly 4k in savings, so I'd say it's been a success.

In sum, I really enjoyed this? Some of which was down to Min Jun lucking out with relatively benign werewolf traits early on (PRIDEFUL and EASILY EXCITABLE, which were easy to manage) and making sure to spend his skill points on abilities such as wolf bathing and napping that would compensate for the lack of four walls. Possibly the most useful was napping, as they can curl up anywhere to sleep, it is unlockable almost immediately upon becoming a werewolf - and they recharge in less than half the time of a regular human sleep, which allows more time for making money.

The bunker was not quite as useful - mostly I used it when he just happened to be nearby. It was fun to hang out in though, and convenient when he was at the bar.

Unlike any other occult, there's a random element to which werewolf traits you unlock, so I'd definitely be interested in trying with a second to see what differences there are.

#my sims #min jun park #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 gameplay #rags to riches #sims 4 rags to riches #sims 4 rags to riches occult #sims 4 rags to werewolves #wolfgang wilder #kristopher volkov #julia wright #vladislaus straud #rory oaklow #lou howell #sims 4 werewolves #sims 4 vampires #moonwood mill

[solarpunkani]

Hi! I love your blog! I live in California and I was wondering if you had any advice on native plants in the warmer areas, or book recommendations on that topic. I have a bit of yard space, but not a lot of time to dedicate to the project.

Hey! Thanks so much, I appreciate the kind words!

I'm not in California (I'm actually way off in the opposite coast, I'm East Coast Floridian lol) but I can do my best with what I've found to be the case for me!

I can confidently say that a lot of native plants grow... kinda slowly, especially from seed. Hell, I've been growing Sandhill milkweed seeds since February, and those suckers still aren't an inch tall all the way into April! You're gonna need patience. Other plants I've heard grow really quickly and can spread fast, so you're gonna want to know which do what and prepare accordingly. In the very least, have a contingency plan for if things get out of control--maybe uprooting and repotting volunteer plants to give away could be a good strategy! Of course, if you're worried about a native plant spreading more than you'd like, you can grow it in a pot!

Either way, the thing about native plants is that they're most likely going to get better with time and care. If something looks really wimpy and sad in year one, in year two it may come back and be a superstar! Sometimes they'll surprise you--I thought a lot of my coreopsis flowers got decimated by snails last year, but this year they're coming back strong, and I've only been planting more of them! With that being said, do try to remember where you planted what--I think I accidentally destroyed my Aquatic Milkweed plant last year digging around to put something else in the ground (though my soil isn't very aquatic in the first place and I'm surprised it survived 2 years).

All that being said, I'm most knowledgeable about native plants in the Florida area (and honestly, the more I poke around on iNaturalist, the more I realize... I barely know anything lol), but! I hope I can provide some resources on California native plants for you to refer to!

I probably don't have to be the one to tell you that California is very big. It has a lot of different climates and growing conditions, so your mileage may vary with any of the sites I give you. But hopefully at least something helps!

Here is a link to the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy's guide to native California wildflowers! It's also downloadable as a PDF! They also have a guide for planting and watering California native plants that may be helpful!

Califlora is a nonprofit database providing information on California native plants, and they seem to also have a growing guide to help you find what plants grow in what area and with what care needs!

The California Native Plant Society will likely be a good resource! They have 36 chapters state-wide, each with their own website, so checking out the chapter that serves your area will likely be a fantastic resource for you! If they're anything like the chapter in my district here in FL, they'll likely have monthly meetings and may even host field trips and plant sales! Pro tip, if they're hosting a plant sale, show up early--I missed out on milkweed because I showed up on time and not 10 minutes early. I am still salty about that, but I regaled the tale on my gardening blog, so I won't bring that here. Here's a page that'll help you find out which chapter serves your area! Their main page also has a tool to help you pick native plants by location and water needs, providing information and tips, and finding nearby nurseries that may have the plants you're looking for! Fingers crossed there's relevant nurseries in your area, my city... doesn't have much.

Across the United States, there's land grant universities that have a mission to make agricultural research accessible to growers in their state, and they'll likely also provide information on native plants as well! To the best of my ability, I think this is the extensions office website for California--the University of California Agriculture and Natural Resources website. I did however find the University of California Cooperative Extension which... is either what I meant to find, or something else, I'm no longer sure. Or is it this site that we need? I don't know what's going on anymore.

SFinBloom is a... group? Team? Pair? That's gotten popular for guerrilla gardening in the San Francisco area (but they'll also travel to other places? I lost track). They sell native seed blends on their website, and have five for California! Which makes sense, since most of the work they do is in California. I haven't tried their Southeast mix any, but they sell seed blends and shakers that one could use for on-the-go seed scattering, but no one's stopping you from buying the seeds and using them in your yard. I'd highly suggest double checking the list to be sure they're all native, which is honestly something I'd recommend when it comes to any seed mix being sold, but feel free to give it a shot! They provide the common name and the Latin name, which in my opinion is always a good sign. They have a very popular Tiktok account you can check out if you feel like it too, and an Instagram!

The California Department of Fish and Wildlife lists resources on California native plants. I've listed some already, and some others I do not have the braincells to check out at the moment.

Regarding books, I think of all my gardening books, I only have 2 that specifically talk about native pollinator plants. One is a purchase from Barnes and Nobles, which was published by the Florida Native Plant Society, so it's extremely Florida-specific. I do also have The Xerces Society Guide to Attracting Native Pollinators: Protecting North America's Bees and Butterflies, which does have a list of Pollinator and Nectar Plants in the back few pages, including a section for California and the Southwest. The rest of the book talks about why you should pollinator garden, special considerations for gardening in different places, and different kinds of native bees so let's be real. Here you go.

Shhhhh don't tell Xerces.

Speaking of native wildflowers, it would be remiss of me not to mention milkweed specifically. It's My One Thing. Milkweed4Monarchs has lists of native milkweeds arranged by state, which is what I've been using lately to recommend species to people. It provides 18 names, but I'll tell you right now, I envy anyone who can grow Heart-leaf milkweed (A. cordifolia) naturally in their region and as such. Please. Do it for me. This site also sells seeds, which I haven't purchased personally but a friend in my gardening server has successfully grown Purple Milkweed (A. purparescens) from this shop and that's honestly a pretty high recommendation in my book.

Asides from that! All I can say is that I hope this is helpful! And if any California gardeners want to chime in with their favorite resources and plant lists/plant sources, by all means go ahead!

#gardening #california #native plants #native gardening #resources #out of queue #ani rambles #answered asks #against-all-0dds #ok im gonna go garden now peace out byeeeeee

[ace-malarky]

⭐ 🌀

(Am: @literarynecromancy )

Hey Grim! thanks for the ask :)

We're gonna do these for Syn and Halliel bc skies know I haven't given Halliel enough attention lmao

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why?

Halliel is Not Great with enclosed spaces but conversely being in pitch black is absolutely fine because if she can't see shit, nothing can see her, right? She pulls out bravado like a pro when she's scared in very much a "fake it 'til you make it" facsimile which to be fair has been known to work for her! If there are others with her (Syn) that helps because then she is Not Alone and that gives her something else to focus on because they will Need Help and she can do that.

Syn is maybe a little scared of her the first time they meet as Val (and maybe a little turned on) bc like. consider Dame Aylin. That's the vibe we're going for when Halliel is pissed. She holds herself real still and bristles in a way she doesn't when she's scared herself, and she's got a sword and you get the feeling she will use it when necessary.

Syn does a lot of pretending never to be afraid ever, which is fair enough when you can shapeshift into something with more teeth than whatever's facing you but they're not great at being alone with themself. If you want them real scared, threaten the people they love, just uh. be careful because that's when they stop being careful and a Syn not being careful lets a hell of a lot more humanity slip.

They tend to get more flippant as they get more scared like they're pretending they're not, but you know it's bad when they can't even muster that.

N fuck listen. people are definitely scared of Syn by the end of the book! They do some shit! the aforementioned throat ripping! it's definitely in a monster-under-your-bed kinda way, a little That Thing From The Wilds

🌀 Where is your OC from? Where were they born? Do they still live there, if not why did they move? If they still live in the area how has it changed since their childhood? How many places has your OC lived in and where has been their favourite?

Halliel has lived in Shutora - the capital of Verial - her whole life but thinks about moving every so often to somewhere out by the coast, perhaps. She'd say the city itself hasn't changed that much but in that way where the shops have changed over and a wider panoply of people have moved in, but it happened so gradually that you don't notice until it's happened and then it's the way it's always been.

There are a few more disused buildings that she remembers being the scene of many a birthday party when she was younger, but now they make for good abandoned haunts and community gardening.

The theme park on the edge of the city is new, too, and that's one hell of a novelty.

Syn uh. well. They settled in Shutora just long enough ago that they seem like they've been there forever, and they certainly know the city like they're a native, but dig too much and you realise that no record of them exists for any education/birth certificate/clubs before they started work.

If asked, they say they come from a little village out in the sticks that barely anyone knows about. Intentionally rural. They came looking for excitement and better prospects and seem content to stay for now, but they always talk about travelling to see more of the world with a kind of longing that makes it seem like they're reminiscing on faded childhood memories

#satisfaction brought it back #shapeshifter wip #on the fly world building *and* character development? wayyyyy more likely than you think #also bc Syn's answers being ''well that's complicated because they're an offset manifestation of the primordial spirit of the land'' is uh. #not? particularly useful? #I mean I love that for them but a man wants to ramble y'know #giving halliel bird-like tendencies amuses me k #soz spro I gotta #for the bit

[sybilius]

Syb’s 2022 MOTY List

Hellooooo tumblr! I thought I’d share a short list of the wrestling matches that really stuck with me this year. I’m not going to dig up links for these since this is basically a Syb Loved It list without any coherence necessarily, but if you any of these really speak to you feel free to shoot me a DM and I’ll try to find you a link!

1. Jun Kasai vs El Desperado (TAKATaichiDespeMania, 12.09.2022)

This is just a beautiful, beautiful death match whose core message is about celebrating being alive. It hit me in my core self. 15/10 would watch again anytime.

2. K-Ness Retirement match ( DG The Gate Of Passion 2022 ~ Final Burst Out! K-Ness Forever - Tag 4 - 07.04.2022 )

If there was ever a match to show you how beautiful it is that wrestling is a real-time story that can perform death as well as life-- it’s this one. Please enjoy that K-ness is tagging with his longtime tag partner (Yokosuka) against his forever rival (Dragon Kid) and his wrestling-son (Kzy). It’s a beautiful match and brought tears to my eyes.

3. Kazusada Higuchi vs. Yukio Sakaguchi (God Bless DDT 2022,  23.10.2022)

The lead-up to this match made me insane -- if I could recommend all the house shows leading up to this, I would. This is a story about Higuchi who was mentored by Sakaguchi coming into his own and having to face his mentor in the ring. It’s deeply beautiful and also romantic and intense. Pro wrestling is a love story for real.

4. KENTA vs Zack Sabre Jr. (NJPW G1 Climax 32, 17.07.2022)

Two grown men arguing about who is Senpai. Need I say more?

5. Katsuyori Shibata vs Orange Cassidy (AEW Rampage #66, 04.11.2022)

Although Shibata wrestling Ren at WK was probably most special to longtime New Japan watchers, the fact that he came to AEW to specifically put the shine on “comedy” wrestler Orange Cassidy, did some awesome comedy spots and put on a killer match, and OC was his first loss since his in-ring return? Mwah mwah perfection.

Honorable Mentions:

BCC vs JAS ft. Suzuki (AEW Forbidden Door)

Jun Akiyama vs Eddie Kingston (AEW Full Gear 2022: Zero Hour)

Punk/MJF dog collar match (AEW Revolution 2022)

DDT "Drunk Three Way" match (DDT Non-Alcoholic Beer Garden 2022)

Ren Narita vs Juice Robinson (NJPW Strong)

#pro wrestling #wrestling #moty #njpw #aew #ddt pro wrestling #dragongate #el desperado #takataichidespemania