look at how glorious she is

4

The Haikyuu stage play got me obsessed with Datekou again, man I really wanna watch the whole thing ;v; Anyway here’s a doodledump of the iron children, they need more appreciation

Context under the read-more:

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Okay but I love the idea of vampires having trouble with daily life do to the age/period in which they were turned

•"Of course I’m grateful that nice vampire turned me before I starved to death in the potato famine, it’s just hard looking six years old for all eternity. I’m 118 and I can’t even go to the liquor store. All I want is a stiff scotch to go with the trump supporter I’m having for dinner.“
•"It’s annoying my boyfriend and I can’t even hold hands or kiss outside the house. I know that I look fifteen and he looks thirty, but I’m actually a century older. People think I’m his son. It’s degrading.”
•"Do you know how hard it is for a trans vampire to get some damn testosterone when I was born before social security numbers? Black market hormones are expensive.“
•"My best friend and I both grew up speaking Spanish, but I’m two hundred years younger, so sometimes it’s hard to understand each other. It took four hundred years for them to stop calling me a child.”
•"I adore my wife, but sometimes I get so jealous. She has a thick midsection with a glorious ample waistline and I look like a dressmaker’s mannequin because I had to wear corsets ‘til the day I was turned.“
•"I get so annoyed with all the reporters whenever I compete in a sporting event. A guy who looks 80 wins the Boston marathon and all the sudden raw meat is the new fitness diet.”
•"I hate how often fashions change. I go on a shopping spree and in no time at all I’m getting weird looks for wearing leg warmers to a concert!“
-“Rose, the eighties were twenty years ago.”
-“I set my alarm for the new millennium. It’s not my fault it ran out of batteries! You should have woken me up! I missed the party, Jane. You know I love parties!”
-“How many times have I told you- I GOT DISTRACTED IN PRAGUE!”
-“I’m still mad you didn’t bring that princess back with you. She was sooooo cute! What’s the point of polyamory if you leave the good ones across the pond?”
-“I tried Rose. I caused a national security scandal, remember?”

Good Girls Don’t

There are a lot of things good girls don’t. They don’t laugh too loud, they don’t dress too short, they don’t swear and they don’t put themselves out there. They wait, and they do it while sitting properly in their pristine white dresses, with their hands crossed over their laps and their back sitting up straight.

There’s a lot of things good girls don’t and getting their panties wet every time they see a guy is definitely one of them.

You rubbed your thighs together as your fingers pressed tightly to the table you were sitting on, trying to hold on to a reality that was slipping away as you looked at him. You imagined the taste of his skin, and how it must have felt against yours when he was lying on top of you, and you thought about the fire of his kiss, and how it probably tasted like peppermint and just a tiny hint of sin. You thought about heaven and having him lie next to you at night.

The fire that had settled in your lower tummy was going to consume you all at any moment, and you shifted in your seat, trying to release some of the pressure that had built between your legs. You were definitely wet.

But as much as you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, imagining yourself on your knees while your eyes obediently locked in with his. You imagined your lips wrapping around the two fingers he was offering to you, and the light bob you would do to take them all the way in, while your tongue pressed to them to suck them lightly, looking at him as his eyes, usually green and sweet, turned dark, the burning lust covering them as he gazed down at you. You even imagined the light gag of your throat as he pushed his fingers all the way in, and the moan that bubbled up from your very core when he slid them out, the strings of spit that fell down making you blush as you looked down.

“Look at me, yeah?” He would say, with his voice a little raspier than usual as he kneeled in front of you. “C’mon, kitten, look at me.” He would repeat his command slowly, a smirk curling up the corner of his lips as your eyes fluttered open to obey him. “Look at me while I fuck ya with my fingers, yeah? Use all that spit you left. Were you imagining my cock?” He would ask, his smirk growing bigger as you nodded, still unable to speak your own words, as your heart was knotting on your throat and beating rapidly at the sight of him. “You’re such a fucking good girl.”

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Balcony Scene (ALiL Deleted Scene)

Summary: (College!AU): In which an impromptu performance of Shakespeare occurs at the foot of your stairs.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,558

A/N: @snugglebuck requested: Omg so I just say this prompt list and one of them was “i was on my balcony and you started loudly quoting romeo and juliet at me” and all I could think about was ALIL and Bucky doing this or like even when the reader is at the top of a staircase and like even better when he’s drunk or something. This takes place between “The Honeymoon Phase” and “Jealousy”

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - I can’t thank you enough for always editing my stuff for me. 

Originally posted by sixsunflowersbloom

After what felt like an endless day of classes, you decide to treat yourself to a night off. In order to fully enjoy yourself, you change into the coziest pajamas you can find and take all of your best snacks out of hiding. Once you’ve gotten everything you need in order, you close the door to your room and turn off the lights. The darkness adds to the overall movie theater atmosphere that you want to create for your night of Netflix and relaxation.

You’re halfway through your second movie when your door flies open. The bright light from the hallway is a shock to your system and you cover your eyes automatically, blindly searching for the space bar on your laptop to pause what you’re watching. “What?”

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Sibling Abuse in ACOTAR

I am writing this post to deal with the misconceptions about what constitutes sibling abuse in the ACOTAR fandom. When replying to this post, it is very important to keep the discussion polite and respectful. Please also consider that the trivializing and belittling of this subject can have a negative impact on survivors of this abuse who are reading your comments. I would also request that we leave other characters out of these discussions, especially if they have no bearing on the topic. When using information from one of my sources, I will use a number that I assigned to that source. A separate post with information from different articles will be posted and tagged “sibling abuse sources”, and labeled by the same numbers. I will also be using direct quotes from ACOTAR. I am writing this post in between different school and regular work, so I did not have time to detail the parental abuse (mostly in the form of neglect) also found in ACOTAR. I will only touch on it and its tie to the sibling abuse. If needed, I will do a post on other familial abuse later. I am a survivor of familial abuse – both parental and sibling. Unlike Feyre, the abuse I suffered was physical as well. When reading this post remember that I have a lot of experience with this topic, and that others who read it and your comments may too.

           Family violence is awful in all its forms, but is usually depicted inaccurately with men as just perpetrators and women solely as victims of abusive family acts. This study’s findings indicate that there are no gender differences related to surviving sibling abuse or perpetrating emotional and physical abuse among siblings (3). There are three factors to consider when defining sibling abuse - perception, intent, and severity. Perception refers to how each sibling sees the interaction. If one sibling involved in the sibling relationship views the behavior as abusive, there is a dynamic beyond normal sibling rivalry (3). Intent refers to what a sibling hoped to accomplish through an action or behavior. When sibling abuse is present, the intent of the perpetrating sibling is primarily to cause harm. Severity is related to the duration and intensity of the sibling behavior. As severity increases there is greater chance that the sibling relationship is abusive. Perception, intent, and severity exist within three primary categories of sibling abuse: psychological, physical, and sexual (3). Psychological abuse is typically not recognized by parents and is often dismissed as normal sibling rivalry. This type of abuse includes belittling, intimidation, provocation, destroying possessions, and torturing/killing pets. Psychological abuse is different from “normal” behavior based on consistency and intensity. Examples would include words and actions expressing degradation and contempt that have an impact on the sense of well-being (insecurity and self-esteem) of a sibling, such as daily harassing statements like, “No one in this family cares about you and we would all be happier if you were dead” (3).

           The most prominent perpetrator of sibling abuse in ACOTAR is Nesta. There are numerous words and actions found in the beginning of ACOTAR that support this statement. One of the most prominent instances, was this exchange between the sisters, “What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.” She stormed off, Elain darting after her, cooing her sympathy. They slammed the door to the bedroom hard enough to rattle the dishes. I’d heard the words before—and knew she only repeated them because I’d flinched that first time she spat them. They still burned anyway.” The last insult she told Feyre is almost identical to the example given by Source 3, “No one in this family cares about you and we would all be happier if you were dead”. The text shows that Nesta had said similar hurtful statements before, and said them knowing that they emotionally hurt Feyre. By analyzing this exchange with the three aspects of sibling abuse in mind, this exchange is clearly psychologically abusive. Feyre clearly perceives this as a verbal/emotional attack, and the words Nesta use greatly wounds Feyre emotionally. Nesta’s intent in this situation is also clear – she is seeking to hurt Feyre. Nesta is looking to wound Feyre for her disapproving of Nesta’s possible marriage proposal. Nesta uses this specific phrase because she has used it in the past and knew it had hurt Feyre’s feelings. The last aspect of sibling abuse, severity, is also evidenced by this exchange. Nesta has used almost those exact words to hurt Feyre before, and she actively looks for ways to wound Feyre emotionally, as evidenced by more quotes found from the book.

           More exchanges that reek of abuse found in ACOTAR include, “… so you can have enough time to paint your glorious masterpieces.” She sneered at the pillar of foxglove I’d painted along the edge of the table…” In this quote from Nesta, she is knowingly and purposefully mocking the only activity Feyre enjoys – painting. Her sneering at Feyre’s work also highlights just how sarcastic Nesta’s words are when she called Feyre’s painting masterpieces. Sarcasm on its own is not abuse, but when paired with Nesta’s actions (like trying to hurt Feyre’s self-esteem and pride of her artwork) shows that Nesta has the intent to emotionally wound Feyre. And Nesta succeeds in her attempt to belittle Feyre’s art, “I drowned the urge to cover up the painting with my hand. Maybe tomorrow I’d just scrape it off the table altogether.” Nesta’s next psychological abuse tactic is to humiliate Feyre in front of their father and other sister by exposing Feyre’s sexual activity and trying to use it to shame her. “She added with a small smile, “At least I don’t have to resort to rutting in the hay with Isaac Hale like an animal.” My father let out an embarrassed cough, looking to his cot by the fire. He’d never said a word against Nesta, from either fear or guilt, and apparently, he wasn’t going to start now, even if this was the first he was hearing of Isaac.” The role their father plays in allowing and propagating the abuse will be discussed later, but is seen in this quote. It is also interesting his potential “fear” of Nesta. This is an example of an abuser humiliating their victim to elicit shame in the target of their attacks. As will be discussed later, lowering a victim’s self-worth and increasing their shame is a tactic to gain power over them. Sex shaming an individual on its own, while hurtful, is not only abusive. But when the other factors of the situation are considered, it adds to the narrative of daily abuse Nesta bestows on Feyre. When analyzing this situation with the three sibling abuse factors, perception, intent, and severity, it is easy to see that Nesta is being abusive again in the text.

Siblings who resort to bullying view it as a means to exert power, often in response to the fact that they have been victimized by parents, older siblings, or someone outside the family (1). The aggression of the perpetrators can be a means of getting back at a favored child and releasing the anger stemming from their own abuse or an attempt to claim a sense of mastery over the trauma of their own abuse or situation. The aggression can also be a form of mimicry that is reinforced by other aggressors in the family (1).

The whole power dynamic of Feyre’s family is entirely turned upside down. The father no longer has control or power over his children, and they are left to grapple for it between each other. His lack of control is seen not only in how he never tells his children what to do or reprimands them for their treatment of each other, but also in the ways Nesta looks to use his painfully injured leg against him, “His simply carved cane was propped up against his chair—a cane he’d made for himself … and that Nesta was sometimes prone to leaving far out of his reach.” Nesta is malicious in her behavior towards him, and while it is understandable for her to be angry and hurt by his negligence, it does not give her the right to lash out at him and Feyre. No human is perfect, so occasional outbursts would be understood, but her consistent and calculated actions against the members of her family show that the situation they have grown up in has affected her enough to use abuse tactics to try to regain power in the situation. The following quote from the book is another instance of her seeking to claim power from the others, “From beside my father, Nesta snorted. Not surprising. Any bit of praise for anyone—me, Elain, other villagers—usually resulted in her dismissal. And any word from our father usually resulted in her ridicule as well.” Anything that could help lift Feyre’s sense of self-esteem is instantly destroyed by Nesta. Nesta is almost certainly in pain, and she is looking to make sure everyone not only stays that way – but hurts more than her. Some might argue that Feyre is the one with the most power in the family, since she is the only provider and source of food and money. There might be credence to this, if it weren’t for two things. First, Feyre would never withhold food, or money for survival necessities, from her family in order to control them. Second, it is possible that one of the reasons Nesta resents Feyre is because she is the sole provider (Nesta could change this by trying to help support the family, but doesn’t) and used psychological means of taking any power that Feyre might have. An example of this can be seen in the following exchange between the sisters, “Nesta picked at her long, neat nails. “I hate chopping wood. I always get splinters.” She glanced up from beneath her dark lashes. Of all of us, Nesta looked the most like our mother—especially when she wanted something. “Besides, Feyre,” she said with a pout, “you’re so much better at it! It takes you half the time it takes me. Your hands are suited for it—they’re already so rough.”” Nesta will eventually chop the wood, but she did not do it prior to the book starting when Feyre originally asked her to, and most likely only does it to try to curry some favor with Feyre before they head to the market, which will be addressed later. In this exchange, Nesta is using what, at first glance, looks to be a compliment, but is really intended to insult Feyre. First, Nesta offered an excuse not to contribute to the family’s survival, then she compliments Feyre’s ability to chop wood, and followed it up with a compliment that Feyre had an affinity for wood chopping – since her hands were rough. This is, of course, an insult since Nesta believes that manual labor which impacts the hands is a task only poor people – people lesser than her – should do. Her belief is evidenced by the perfectly kept state of her own hands and fingers. Feyre, the provider, theoretically should be able to demand help from her family. But she at most offers empty threats, since she promised her mother that she would care for them no matter what. If Nesta did not chop the wood, Feyre would have eventually done it. This is a fact that Nesta knows and exploits. That is why Feyre does more than the bulk of the work needed for the family’s survival. These, along with other exchanges in the book, show that Nesta is using psychological abuse to claim power from her family.

           Several studies over the past three decades found data which shows that sibling abuse is pandemic and can have fatal results. One study found that as many as 40% of children in the United States engage in physical aggression against siblings, and as many as 85% engage in verbal aggression against siblings on a regular basis (1). Many factors, such as the severity and intent of an act by one sibling and the emotional impact of that act on another sibling, is used when determining if an interaction is abusive. Negative sibling relationships are characterized by fear, shame, and hopelessness. Negative relationships indicate that some form of abuse is occurring (1). Examples include ridicule, which involves both words and actions that express contempt and degradation, which deprives the victim of a sense of self-worth. The sibling who can exacerbate fear gains control in the relationship through minimizing the other’s self-esteem (1). Emotional abuse includes numerous and often cruel forms of abuse, such as belittling, intimidation, scorn, provocation, destroying possessions, and torturing/killing pets.

As discussed earlier, Nesta is looking to gain control from the other family members through contempt, degradation, belittlement, scorn, and goading. This is evidenced yet again in the following excerpt, “My sisters had gone quiet, and I looked up in time to see Nesta crinkle her nose with a sniff. She picked at my cloak. “You stink like a pig covered in its own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?” I didn’t let the sting and ache show. I’d been too young to learn more than the basics of manners and reading and writing when our family had fallen into misfortune, and she’d never let me forget it.” Nesta is belittling how Feyre provides for the family by insulting her appearance after hunting and bringing home food. She is also purposefully picking at Feyre’s insecurity – the fact that she was never able to learn to read and other skills the upper/middle class have in their society. Examining this interaction with the three factors of sibling abuse in mind, Nesta is yet again abusive. Perception – Feyre feels the “sting and ache” that Nesta’s words create in her. She is emotionally hurt by her sister yet again. Intent- Nesta is looking to undermine Feyre’s accomplishment in killing a deer and looking to use a known insecurity to hurt Feyre more. Severity – the text states that Nesta has used illiteracy, manual labor, and lack of education to mock Feyre before, and this is yet again another instance of her calculating what the best words to wound Feyre are in that situation. Yet another example of Nesta finding ways to exert control on her family members is seen here, ““Take those disgusting clothes off.” I took my time, swallowing the words I wanted to bark back at her.” Some might argue that Feyre is abusive as well, and while it is important to keep in mind that all interactions are seen from Feyre’s perspective and might be biased, Feyre’s intent is also very clear. After Nesta negatively orders her to disrobe, she feels the insult in the order, but tries to keep her anger inside her and not lash out. That is not a commonly found trait in abusers, and Nesta certainly doesn’t display it. When angered, Nesta instantly lashes out, and looks to find ways to severely hurt those who she is upset with.

The family environment is an important factor in sibling abuse because sibling abuse often is a reflection of behavior that has been witnessed or experienced within the family. The family is an interdependent unit, and the actions of one family member have an impact on all the other members. Conflict over the number of emotional and material resources available, and how parents handle it, heightens stress among siblings. Children are at greater risk of sibling abuse if their parents are unavailable to meet the children’s needs and are unable to help them to resolve sibling tensions (1). Experts on sibling abuse have proposed that maladaptive parental behavior and dysfunctional family structures play key roles in fueling sibling abuse. In a study conducted by Wiehe (1997), the normalization of abuse by parents was found to be a key factor in the severity and frequency of abuse between siblings (1). It’s been proved that an abused child may inflict abuse on a sibling because they are modeling the actions of their parents.  Some victims of severe sibling abuse have reported that their family environments were toxic. Wiehe (2000) reported that some victims have “described the atmosphere in their home as a ‘battleground.’ A culture of violence developed for all family members living in this culture”. Raised in such an environment, children learn to survive through intimidation and cruelty. Families who live in chaos are at risk of sibling abuse. Chaotic and disorganized families move from crisis to crisis, and it seems that no one has control. Parental stress and overburdened caretakers are two factors that result in the assignment of parental responsibilities and tasks to children. It has been shown that there is a strong link between lack of parental supervision and the frequency and severity of sibling abuse (1).

The father in ACOTAR is neglectful to the point of abuse, which will be discussed in a different post in the future. His emotional unavailability, inability to / lack of trying to provide for the family, and refusal to protect the siblings from each other all display his neglectful abuse. The chaotic situations the family endures – losing their mother, losing their fortune, moving to a hovel, watching their father beat, living without parents who provide for them – all deeply impact the sisters. All of them are hurting, and this leads some of them to turn to abuse to deal with the issues. “But at least Nesta didn’t fill our heads with useless talk of regaining our wealth, like my father. No, she just spent whatever money I didn’t hide from her, and rarely bothered to acknowledge my father’s limping presence at all. Some days, I couldn’t tell which of us was the most wretched and bitter.” The losses this family has faced has brought them all low and filled them with pain, but it seems only Feyre is looking to actively improve their situation.

Some families promote the development of alliances at the expense of other family members. When this happens, an unhealthy triangle develops in the family structure. Triangles are not always bad. However, when rigid rules and patterns are established in the triangle, problems may arise. When this type of triangle exists in a family, resolution of emotional problems is often prevented (1). 

There is an unhealthy trio in the house – and Feyre got the short end of it. Nesta and Elain are the most bonded, and Nesta actively looks to undermine and cause Feyre pain. Instead of Elain trying to heal the rift between the other two sisters, she takes Nesta’s side – even though Nesta is predominantly cruel. This unhealthy partnership, the support of an abusive individual, and neglectfulness to the point of abuse along with the father, all show that Elain is not innocent when it comes to sibling abuse. Textual evidence of this will be provided and analyzed in a different post. Nesta also psychologically abuses Elain – but to a much lesser extent than Feyre. This again, will be covered in a different post. This post has grown too long, and so it will continue to mostly focus on the sibling dynamic between Nesta and Feyre.

           According to the National Family Violence Survey, the rates of sibling abuse “make the high rates of other forms of family violence, such as parents abusing children or spouses abusing each other, seem modest by comparison”. Even with the high incident rates, sibling abuse is the least reported and researched form of abuse (4). Emotional abuse may include verbal intimidation or name calling, degradation, insults, and threatening or completing acts of violence (4). The differences between sibling violence and abuse are that violence showed reciprocal aggression between siblings, and abuse was a result of one sibling exerting power over the other. Capsi defined sibling abuse as, “unidirectional hostility where one sibling seeks to overpower the other via a reign of terror and intimidation and reflects an asymmetrical power arrangement” (4). When assessing psychological abuse, questions related to emotional aggression can be used. These include, “what is happening that hurts your feelings?” and intent “[insert example from student’s story], did this happen accidently or on purpose? What tells you that it was ‘on purpose’?” Questions such as these will likely elicit concrete descriptions of the behavior between children (4).

           There is another source of power found within families – money and material items. Feyre is the provider of the family, the one who risks her life to hunt and bring back game. The animals can be used for a few purposes, for instance, some parts will be used for food, and other parts sold for money. Feyre, the main/only real source of income for the family should be able to decide how the money is spent. This right is undeserved and should be revoked if the provider is selfish and wasteful with the family’s funds. The book shows that Feyre is neither. Instead, her sisters are the selfish ones when it comes to money:

“I’d love a new cloak,” Elain said at last with a sigh, at the same moment Nesta rose and declared: “I need a new pair of boots.””

“I kept quiet, knowing better than to get in the middle of one of their arguments, but I glanced at Nesta’s still-shiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces.”

“She drew out the two syllables of my name—fay-ruh—into the most hideous whine I’d ever endured, and Nesta loudly clicked her tongue before ordering her to shut up.”

“I drowned them out as they began quarreling over who would get the money the hide would fetch tomorrow…”

           Why should either Elain or Nesta be given the funds the hides would earn? Neither of them hunted the animals. If they weren’t being selfish, they would be discussing the ways to use the money to best provide for the family – every member. Instead, they bicker over which one of their unhelpful and lazy selves should spend the money for their own individual benefit. Clothing is of course a necessity, but Feyre’s clothes are in far worse a state than their own, partly due to her physical activities she performs to provide for them. Since she is the youngest, it is also likely, though not specifically stated, that she got the hand-me-downs over the years as many younger siblings do, especially in poor households. Yet the siblings who did not earn the money argue over how they will spend it. Many abusers are willfully ignorant of their selfish behavior and how it affects others. Other abusers, as is likely in Nesta’s case, also selfishly seek to use money they have or haven’t earned as a power ploy. Nesta, who constantly points out Feyre’s shabby and poor appearance, has no doubt noticed the differences between their apparel. She certainly knows that Feyre’s are in a worse state, but still seeks to better her own wardrobe at the cost of her sister. Though Feyre earned the money, Nesta is trying to take away Feyre’s power to use it.

Physical and emotional sibling violence are one of the most common forms of violence against children and the consequences of physical and emotional sibling abuse can affect children and adults. Research has found children and adolescents who have experienced sibling violence to have experienced mental health, loneliness, psychological problems, and poor peer interaction and behavioral problems (2). Violence against a child, regardless of, is still violence against a child, unfortunately sibling violence has been mostly ignored in child welfare. Children and teenagers who had experienced sibling aggression reported higher mental health issues than children who had not experienced sibling abuse. Children who were victims, and perpetrators, of sibling abuse were found to be more likely to end up in abusive romantic relationships later in life (2). Both the victims and the perpetrators of emotional sibling abuse tend to have significantly lower levels of self-esteem as adults than do nonvictims (1).

The unhealthy dynamic that Feyre and Nesta grew up with was rife with the possibilities to become a selfish and psychologically unhealthy individual. Nesta had considered an engagement, which implies a prior attachment/relationship, with a man who would most likely be abusive. Feyre did end up in love with a romantically abusive partner, Tamlin. Tamlin was not just abusive towards her, but also arguably to Lucien. All sisters were unlucky enough to live in a situation that can create abusers, but only one sister did not show any indications of being abusive – Feyre. Unfortunately, she was romantically involved with an abuser, but thankfully got out and found someone who would not abuse her for the first time in her life.  

Almost all interaction between Feyre and Nesta in the beginning of ACOTAR is Nesta trying to emotionally hurt Feyre and purposefully lower her self-esteem. When reading the book, it is important to remember that Nesta has been treating Feyre that way for years – not just the few days the readers see. Feyre has been living in a hostile environment, one that Nesta inflames, for years. She has suffered emotional and mental trauma at the hands of Nesta’s psychological abuse.  

Abuse is abuse. Siblings are fully capable of abusing each other, and do so in ACOTAR. Nesta’s later actions in no way erase her abusive behavior. Future actions do not change past ones, but can begin to try to make up for it. Some abusers can and will look to protect their victims from outside threats and dangers besides themselves. Some abusers will love and care for their victims. Some abusers will do nice and kind things for their victims. Some abusers will even change their behavior. But none of it, none of it, will in any way lessen or erase their current or past abuse. Some readers don’t think Nesta did anything wrong. Some don’t want an apology from Nesta, and think it would be out of character, in that sense, they would be right. It is out of character for abusers to apologize for their behavior. But that does not mean the abusers don’t need to, or shouldn’t, apologize for their actions. Or be held accountable for them.

In order for an abuser to deserve forgiveness they need to recognize their actions as wrong. They then need to meaningfully apologize. Lastly, abusers would need to change their behavior and keep it that way. Then they would not fit the criteria for an abuser any longer. Simply stopping abusive actions do not undo abuse, erase it, or mean a person no longer deserved the title of abuser.

Nesta was an abusive sibling. The fact is that she actively sought out ways to hurt her sisters continually on a daily basis for years. The problem isn’t just that she wasn’t unconcerned with other’s feelings, it was that she calculated ways to hurt them. Whether she still is, or is not abusive is not what is being discussed in this post. Nesta’s character is an excellent opportunity for the author to show how an abuser can grow and change and be redeemed.

Personally, I will never enjoy reading about Nesta’s character. Many of her actions in ACOTAR are nearly identical to many of my brother’s. Her treatment of Feyre is very similar to some of the ways he treated me. I can’t read parts of the book with Nesta’s character and not be reminded of my brother. It is certainly possible for Nesta to grow and change, like my brother could, but even if they do, I would still not want to read about, or associate, with them. Many readers who have not suffered through sibling abuse will have no problem reading and enjoying Nesta’s character, and there is no problem with that. The problem is only when readers erase negative aspects of a character, and claim there were no misdeeds done by characters they like.

There is nothing wrong with liking a strong, willful, sarcastic, uncaring character. There is nothing wrong with liking a morally gray character. Or a villain. Many do, including myself. The situation only changes to being not okay when people refuse to acknowledge a character’s misdeeds and mistreatment of others. Everyone can have problematic faves, the only problem arises when fans refuse to acknowledge their fave’s problematic behavior. We are all capable of critical thinking and liking complex things. There is no reason to blindly pretend a character has no flaws, or that the flaws aren’t harmful to others. We can still love characters, flaws and all.

Again, I ask that only polite discussion takes place on the subjects of abuse in the fandom. There is no reason to write words that can be construed as hurtful to people who have suffered sibling, and other, abuse in the past. Please remember that survivors could be reading anything you post and say. I am tagging everyone who liked/reblogged a post I saw earlier stating there was no sibling abuse in ACOTAR. I am not looking to call anyone out, but only to shed light on a very prevalent and harmful form of abuse that has been swept under the rug far too many times.

@highfaelucien @nyx-morana @sonerdyandhappy @highladystarfall @sarcastic-catastrophe @pterkvinsky @emaurie @pterodactylichexameter @bluevanillakittykat @wrydtoyourmother @that-greeky-girl @casualbookfox @shamelessyaoishipper @dont-cry-fireheart @valamerys @bookdork6 @bookworm1018 @accidental-rambler @foxboyandflowergirl @extreme-introvert @midnight-charm @acourtoftears @wherewildflowersprosper @liiilyevans @vague-af @blogtealdeal @feyre-cursebreaker @rowan-buzzard-whitethorn @court-of-wildfire @decaffeinatedcoffeethings @christina-dh @readerofthewilderwest @never-not-a-fangirl @wordwitch-of-prythian @emdig2001 @pksuburban @shadowcarnation @my-name-is-fireheart @justbooklover @supervintagebookworm @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @wingspanmatters @greenfire2908art @wearejustdustbetweenthestars @midnightbeast @sxcxhxyx @imthepinkstarburst @ericatheweirdo @eyes-s @a-court-of-feels @she-wrote-her-way-out @shadowthepiratecat @fantasycourts @that-one-lightning-queen @just-another-random-book-blogger @azargetfreaky @someholyh2o @dorica117 @abookandacoffee @rufousnmacska @tea-at-fijve @tbhfangirl19 @fictionalcharactersaremyreality @chocolateauthoress @acourtofstarsanddreams @over300books @karlisreadingcorner @study-read-repeat @eliseroseblack @lovebooks23 @miladyaelin @blunt-truthofit @liryenenderea @hollow-kingdom @rebornasqueen @jnlmangum @sassycoconut @salvaterre @starrydawn6559 @mm23219 @shittakemushrooms-blog @theneptuneviolin @booklover0602 @bellatrixship @literarynonsense @highladyofidris @aster-lane @awkwardbuckytrash @akwodino @elains @padmeamidala242 @schmayschmay @feryearcherons @pegblinity @readinglikewildfire @somebodymagical @ashowott @im-choking-on-my-halo @theravenclawwitchling @callmeladytypewriter @booknerdswiftie @motherofmajesticflapflaps @sammsy @lysassndra @secretjasmine @rattlebag @cuddles-and-chocolate-cake @crystaldophinpotato @yeahimabitawkward222 @aangrynarwhal @captain-book-lover @really-bloody-tired @tiara2155sr @z-oglow21 @aevoit @its-perfectly-abnormal @mystic-imagination @noperage @propshophannah @mynamestartswithaz @accidental-rambler @agalathynius01 @randomno1 @adiposesherlock @sparkleywonderful @borganmert @r–a-n–d-o–m @elidexlorcan @elentiyariddle @awkwardfan563 @jsoifu @eoyai @alienathedreamer @mlecbane @micmac21 @theinconsistentblogg @amandamartinez3568 @klarolinebellarkestydia @tothestarswhoanswered @tired-and-annoyed @sparkpegasus12 @aeteater @allaboutthefandom @dave-and-kurt-trash @wintercovrt @bookstore-babe @trisdawn @manonxblackbeakheir @ibluedragon2003 @jegglefizzogg @dshammout @hpshattermegames @princevvhitethorn @pleasedftbaforever @allhailqueenmaas @eviesamos @badwolf1967221b @reincarnationchance @faith8993 @qwackycoincoin 

“Some people are meant to be loved and others just naked” (III)

A/N: Part III of CEO Harry! I sincerely hope this was worth the wait and that you guys enjoy it. Thank you for your lovely comments and support. As always, this includes smut, daddy kink and a shitload of angst. I hope you like it. ♥

Harry and Y/N are enemies in the business world but the perfect partners under the sheets.

Based on the song Wrong by Zayn ft. Kehlani

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV.

Originally posted by ohbabyyeah

The sense of overachievement deeply ingrained in Y/N’s mindset is an innate weapon that can be both a blessing and a curse: when success is the rule rather than the exception, each failure, no matter how minor, feels like the end of the world.

Oliver Zhang represented all four horsemen during Y/N’s friday night apocalypse. She was certain she hadn’t experienced humiliation to its greatest extent until he stood her up at a VIP rooftop bar that overlooked the whole city and highlighted the blossoming nightlife she was letting go to waste -along with three hours of her precious time and a new outfit.

Unable to convert stress into drive whenever the gap between her expectations and the reality of her circumstances starts to diverge, she reverted back to a well-practised posture: that of spoiled brat utterly resolute in her decision to fuck shit up and get away with it.

The taste of defeat and the remnants of shame hovering on the tip of her tongue assumed control of her body and, naturally, what ensued was nothing short of wrongdoings she would gladly exclude from her future autobiography.  A videotape in fast forward, memories that her mind would disguise as dreams -and therefore wouldn’t regret- until the following morning.

What her brain did register was that at some point, her low cut silk burgundy dress came off. 

And somewhere along the way, she ended up in Harry Styles’ bed.

Her resolve might parallel that of an all-powerful creature but she’s only limited to her human strength, and no human in recorded history has been proved strong enough to fight off the inevitable.

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Crossing Lines: Arrow 5x19 Review (Dangerous Liaisons)

If 5x19 is indicative of the final four episodes of Season 5, then we are in for one hell of a ride. 

After setting Oliver and Felicity off into trajectories, Arrow returns to the center as Felicity’s relationship with Helix come to a head. Original Team Arrow is splintered as Felicity aligns herself against Oliver and Diggle. Smoak versus Arrow is more than just Felicity going head to head with those who know and love her best. It’s about diving into Felicity’s real motivations. Sure, we were told Felicity’s grief over Billy is pushing her over the edge 

(keep singing that tune Arrow), but we knew there was more. The truth is, Felicity’s motivations haven’t strayed too far from center after all.

Let’s dig in…

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elpsycongruent  asked:

tell me a funny story!

So, in about my party’s fourth session playing D&D, we got a side quest.

We needed lodging for the night and hadn’t managed to build up much by way of party funds yet! That’s fine, said the person in charge of an inn (who we were introduced to because she had hired a goblin we gave a pie tin to in the first encounter of our very first session–this goblin, I might add, has gone on to be a queen among her people, due to her shiny tin pie plate and the pies she makes in it), there’s a rat problem in the basement. If we can take care of the rat problem, we can have lodging for the night!

It is at this point that I should say my druid, Valira, Loves Animals. She is not gonna attack them unless they attack first. She is a Disney princess. She has befriended carnivorous sheep, mammoths, pretty much any animal she’s ever met that hasn’t attempted to murder her.

So when we get down to the basement and find, instead of your regular-sized rat colony, a group of four giant rats, instead of attacking them, she decides to try diplomacy, and casts Speak With Animals.

She and the rats proceed to have a very serious conversation about the scarcity of food for giant rats, the difficulty in finding a home that doesn’t bother people when urban sprawl is a problem, until she was basically going “Crap, you guys, I am actually completely on the rats’ side here.”

But they really couldn’t stay in the inn basement, and the party hit upon a glorious idea, since we were looking for crew for a ship at the time.

And that is the tale of how we ended up exploring the world with a ship crewed partially by giant rats, and how we all got a little teary when they ended up in a different plane and decided they wanted to stay there.

The Joy of Socks

yeah, idk either, really. Happy birthday, Harry! [AO3]

Presents for Potter: Saviour Seeks Socks

What do you get the man who single-handedly saved us all from You-Know-Who? A luxury holiday? A bottle of Ogdeon’s Finest? Soap-on-a-rope? Harry Potter’s birthday is coming up, and the Prophet managed to secure an exclusive interview with the man himself. We asked what he really, really wants to receive on the big day.

“A wise man once said to me, you can never have enough socks,” said Potter. “Once you reach a certain level of fame, no one gives you socks any more. At the time, I was too young to truly appreciate the remark, but now I get it. Socks are a great gift—and I never get any!”

So there you have it. Harry Potter needs socks! You can send him some, c/o the Prophet, and we will make sure he gets them. But who was the learned individual who gave Potter such advice? Some have suggested that [cont. page 3]

“How many is this now?” Ginny asked, unwrapping yet another package.

“Today? Including those that were sent to work? Or in total? Because I think we must be close to five hundred pairs, by this point,” Harry replied, holding up another pair. “Ooh, look, these ones have snitches on them, that’s cool.”

“This’ll learn you not to speak to the press ever again,” she said, shaking her head. “‘Dear Mr. Potter, I hope you like these socks, I knitted them myself, also thank you for saving us from Voldemort, love Doris Englow, 94’.”

“It never says that,” said Harry. She held up the note. “Oh, how sweet. Honestly though, the Prophet needs to stop claiming I did everything ‘single-handedly’, they’ve never given enough credit to—dear God, those are the most hideous socks I have ever seen.”

“Don’t be rude to Doris! She put a lot of time into them, and personally I think mustard, lime green and beetroot are lovely colour combinations,” Ginny said. “When did you even get interviewed, anyway?”

“Last Tuesday I was coming out of the canteen at work, and some reporter was lurking. They asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and for a moment I felt like channelling my inner Dumbledore. Don’t worry, I’ve learnt my lesson. Never again,” he said firmly.

“I wonder if he knew all he had to do was complain to the national press about not having any socks, and he’d be sorted for life,” mused Ginny. “Look, the Chuddley Cannons have sent you an entire box full of their entire range.”

“Ron’ll be delighted,” Harry said. “I’ll give them to him later, when we all meet up.”

“Great,” Ginny said. “And what about all the rest?”

“There’s got to be some charity somewhere who’ll accept a donation,” he said.

All of these?” Ginny said doubtfully. “What would anyone do with a thousand socks?”

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James T. Kirk and the Eclipse

…Jim came into Main Briefing the next morning to find that Ael was there early, watching Scotty and K’s’t’lk put the final touches on the bones of their scheduled briefing to the Science staff on their progress with the “safing” of the Sunseed routines. “Did you rest well, Commander?” Jim said, standing behind her and looking at the hologram she was examining.  

         “Not too well,”  said Ael. “But any rest which does not involve being shot at is a good one, I suppose.”   She turned her attention back to the image presently playing itself out over the center of the table.  It was a holographic display of an eclipse of Earth’s sun:  a particularly splendid one, the primary’s corona licking and writhing away from the obscured disk of the photosphere like the wind-rippled mane of some furious and glorious beast.  

         Jim had seen this particular image before, at the Academy, and afterwards occasionally elsewhere.  “2218?” he said to Scotty.

         “Aye, that’s the one,”  Scotty said, not looking up from his work at the table computer for the moment.

         Ael glanced from it to Jim.  “It is a great wonder,”  she said.

          “We’re more or less used to it now,”  Jim said. “It happens with some frequency.”

         Ael laughed, one of those small nearly inaudible breaths of humor that Jim had nearly forgotten the sound of.  “Certainly, though, you have considered how astronomically unlikely such an exact fit of the apparent size of star and moon, as seen from Earth, must be.”  She gazed at the image again.  “I thought, when I saw it for the first time, that the image had been taken by some space vessel or satellite specifically positioned for the purpose.”

         “No,” Jim said.  “It just came that way.”

         She gave him an amused and extremely skeptical look.  “You truly believe that this is a coincidence?”

         “The universe has seen stranger ones,”  Jim said.

         Ael raised her eyebrows at him, leaning back in the seat.  “Perhaps.  Though I should like to discuss the statistical realities of the situation with Spock some day:  doubtless even in his dry way he might cast light on the provenance of this miracle which he might not otherwise intend.”  

         Jim wasn’t sure what to make of that idea.  “But there are those of my people who would have taken such an apparition in our own skies as an explicit message from the Powers,”  Ael said.  “An invitation to venture out and discover what it was that had engineered such a spectacular and transient terror.  Or simply a message that so colossal a coincidence could not have simply happened: that it was indeed made, and that there were makers.”

         Jim nodded.  “Oh, we have our own people who think that the Preservers or some other of the ‘seeding’ species passed through fifty thousand years or so ago, and nudged the Moon just enough in its orbit to produce the effect.”  He shrugged.  “There’s no proof of it, naturally.  The Moon does have some microscopic orbital ‘wobbles’ that can’t be accounted for by its interactions with the Earth and the Sun;  but as for what causes them—”  He shrugged.  

         “But meanwhile,”  Ael said, “the wonder remains.  And may yet do us good, for worlds used to eclipses even without such a perfect fit tend to be further ahead in research on coronal science than others.  Earth being one of them.”

         Scotty smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere, lass,”  he said, not looking up.

         Jim looked back at the eclipse, still caught in the repeating loop of the few minutes of totality as seen from the northern Pacific.  The so-called “Great Eclipse” or “Fireball Eclipse” of 2218 had not only had an unusually long totality, but had coincided with a sunspot maximum, and the solar storm ongoing during the umbra’s track across the Earth had produced coronal behavior like nothing ever seen before during an eclipse—outrageous, frightening, enough to give the impression to a viewer that the Sun was actually angry, and might do something terminal to its subject worlds. Ael reached out and touched the control to let the image continue through its normal cycle.  “…It’s temporary, at any rate,”  Jim said.  “The Moon’s getting slowly further away from us.  Thirty or thirty-five thousand years from now, and the fit won’t be perfect any more.  Nothing but annular eclipses for us, then, until the oscillation stops and the Moon’s orbit begins closing in again.”

         “And then what?”

         “Then it starts to fall,”  Jim said, “and tidal forces pull it apart.  If we’re lucky, Earth ends up with rings.  If we’re not lucky…rings, and most likely a ‘cometary winter’.”

         Ael looked rueful.  “Much later, though, I assume.”

         “Five or six hundred thousand of our years, give or take a few.”

         Ael smiled slightly.  “Not something we need worry about overmuch, then.  Our own concerns lie closer in time.”

         Jim nodded.  The corona licked and lashed in apparent fury;  then there came a tremor at the trailing limb, the solar brilliance piercing through the lunar valleys, and the “diamond ring” effect flashed out in full glory, blinding.  Ael stood up, gazing at it with the expression of someone faced with an insoluble riddle.  “The Elements clearly do have a sense of humor,”  she said at last, as the Sun showed a full blazing crescent of its limb and the corona faded to invisibility.  “Unwise of us to ignore it when we see it being displayed.  Few are angrier, the poet says,  than those who tell a joke and hear no laughter…”

         “I don’t like to step on anyone’s punch lines either,”  Jim said.

         McCoy came in and paused, looking at the eclipse with a somewhat jaundiced eye. Jim noticed the look.  “Problems, Bones?”

         “After I saw the recording of the Bridge view from yesterday,”  McCoy said, folding his arms,  “I don’t much like the look of that.”

         “If you like, Doctor,”  Spock said as he came in the door, “I will send down to Catering for a pot for you to bang on, to frighten away the wolf.”

         “‘Wolf’?”  

         “The one you no doubt feel sure is eating the Sun…”


Star Trek: Rihannsu - Swordhunt, 2000

Just Go With It (Prof! Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: (AU Professor Rogers) For years you’ve worked your way up to become a partner at your company, having the hots for your coworker, and many unpromising relationships. When your boss presents an ultimatum, you ask a complete stranger for help.

Word Count (2,420)

AN: This has been in my mind for WEEKS after watching this cute 90′s movie with my girl Jennifer Aniston and I had to just share this with y’all. Long chapter to get into it :) also had no idea what to call Vision so Vis it is

A pair of fumbling bodies pushed their way into an apartment, the lights from the street still dark and dimmed as they seeped in through the closed curtains. Heels were kicked across the floor and a suit jacket flung over a chair. Gasping for air, they pushed each other to the couch and plopped down awkwardly, a pair of lips returning to the bare skin of a neck. A soft moan escaped a soft pair of lips, and they reached towards a drawer.

“I.. I don’t really need to wear one,” the male grumbled against your soft neck, roughly sucking against a sensitive spot. You moved under his weight and moved your head.

“What?”

“Yeah. I tested negative, and um,” he moved his lips down to your chest, his hands bringing your dress up, “I have this unbelievable control..”

You cleared your throat and placed your hands on his chest, “Uh, yeah. Excuse me.” you pushed him up, and he reluctantly moved to the other side of the couch. You switched the closest lamp on and ran a hand through your messy hair.

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Who cares | 01 (m)

pairing: kim taehyung x oc 
genre/warnings: soon to be smut, angst, drama,   
• words: 2,652
summary: what happens when Taehyung falls for someone who’s already taken? Can he control his feelings or will they take over and render him powerless? In the end is it all her fault or his…?
• note. inspired by Dean’s album 130 mood:trbl. 

» 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 ::05 :: 06 :: 07 :: 08 :: 09 :: 10 :: 11  

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If Rose Garden Becomes a Thing

~Oscar meets RNJR~

Qrow: So this is Oscar.  

Oscar: Hello!

RNJR: Hi!

Oscar: *sees Ruby* *develops instant crush*

Ozpin: Oh Gods help me.

Ruby: So are you from Mistral?

Oscar: *catatonic* 

Ozpin: Oh just say SOMETHING.

Oscar: Y-y-yeah!  Small farm. *points vaguely in general direction*

Oscar: *in his head* WHATDOIDOSHESSOPRETTYWHATDOIDO?????

Ozpin: Her uncle is RIGHT THERE.

Ruby: Oh cool! We’re from Vale.

Oscar: … great…

Ozpin: Why did you have to gain a crush on Qrow Branwen’s niece of all people?

Oscar: *in his head* SHUT UP AND HELP ME!

Ozpin: I am not being a wingman so you can hit on my students!

Ruby: Are you okay?

Oscar: *in his head* OHGODHELPME

Ozpin: Stop staring at her!  … And please stop fantasising I’m her former Headmaster do you have any idea how uncomfortable this is?!

Oscar: Yeah, I’m fine.  So you are?

Ruby: I’m Ruby Rose, this is Jaune… *continues talking*

Oscar: *in his head* I DONT KNOW HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS HELP ME

Ozpin: Just say she has nice eyes or something!

Oscar: Er…. you have… silver eyes?!

Ozpin: *facepalm* 

Ruby: Oh, um…

Qrow: *suspicious look between niece and the almost catatonic Oscar*

Oscar: You’re very…

Ozpin: Say she’s wonderful!  Magnificent!  Glorious!  Oh I don’t know! Punctual!

Oscar: Punctual!

Ruby: Ummm…. what?

Ozpin: *facepalm*

Oscar: Beautiful!  I said beautiful!

Qrow: *glare*

Ozpin: Nice recovery.

Qrow: Ozpin…

Ozpin: Oh great now you’ve alerted the uncle.

Qrow: Kid…

Oscar: … Yes?

Qrow: *takes out scythe*

Ozpin: I highly suggest running.

Oscar: *in his head* what?!

Qrow: I’ll give up you five seconds.

Ozpin: Run.  Just run.

Oscar: *in his head* Two steps ahead of you.  *runs faster than Ruby*

Qrow: *wieldig scythe* I’LLGETYOUYET!!!

RNJR: …..

Life of the Zodiacs #2 (unedited)

Didn’t Get a Chance to Read Part One? Go Read it Here :)


“What do you mean the wait is forty minutes?!“ Aries screeched at the frightened waiter facing opposite of her.

He gulped and nervously tapped his fingers against the podium in front of him, "W-Well, we’re very busy tonight ma'am, and your group is just so large we don’t have the room for all of you at the moment.”

“Let’s just go Aries,” Taurus leaned against Libra. “I’m hungry and we obviously aren’t going to be able to eat here. Let’s just go somewhere else.”

“Fine,” Aries glared at the waiter one last time before storming out of the restaurant.

Cancer sighed, “Where are we going to eat now? That was the only place left with decent food.”

Everyone stood in silence. They had already visited multiple restaurants that night, but to no avail. Everywhere was either full or the wait time was too long. Capricorn had been so busy that day he hadn’t had the time to make a reservation anywhere, something he was cursing himself for.

Aries’ face lit up, “How about-”

She was cut off by an unanimous “No” by everyone else. Despite what her fit figure would suggest, the only places Aries ate at were fast food restaurants.

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Hold Still

Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 1164
Plot: Peter climbs through the reader’s window to get her help cleaning up his wounds. And then fluffiness occurs.
A/N: I had this idea in the shower again. Bless showers. Aren’t they good? Anyway, I figure it’s likely this isn’t a super inspired plot, but hopefully I can make it into something fab.
Taglist: @shesradd @4610supersam451 @shoyzz @dcnerd98@annabethfromravenclaw @samsationalwilson @stargurl16 @violentscar@lamia-maizat @you-witch-bitch (I love you all <3 if I missed any of you feel free to yell at me in the comments)

Night air stung her cheeks as (y/n) pushed open the window to her bedroom in Queens; fresh air drifting through the curtains. She’d been laying across her bed celebrating her victory over the Physics exam by watching tv: she’d got the Force Awakens on DVD and this was a great opportunity to do nothing for an evening.

Pushing away from the window, she picked up the glass of Coke sitting precariously on her drawer, sipping loudly from the glass. 
Ah; fizzy goodness.

But her mind hadn’t been on the movie - nor had it been on her glorious physics exam results.
And as she paused for a moment to reflect for the hundredth time this evening on how she’d accidentally fallen in love with one of her best friends; she heard a tap on her window.

Raising a brow, she quizically followed the sound, peering her head into the busy Queens street below.
In the dim streetlamp, a figure sheepishly waved, his silhouette just visible from near the bushes below.
“Peter?! What the hell are you doing here?!” (y/n) hissed, throwing a look over her shoulder to check her bedroom door was tightly closed.
“Can I come up?” Peter called slightly too loudly, testing out his boots on the drainpipe.
“What? No! There’s no way you’re climbing up there! If my Dad sees-”
But Peter was already scaling the pipe, clumsily digging his feet into the brickwork as he steadied himself. (y/n) sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple. 

She’d only known Peter a few months - but they’d hit it off immediately. He’d become one of her closest friends, and they’d share everything together.
The problem with spending all of your waking time with someone?
You start to think they’re cool. And then cool turns into awesome. And awesome turns into cute. And so on, and on, until you’re waking up at 3am and checking your phone just to see if they’ve sent you even the most trivial text.
She had it bad, and she knew it.
But she wasn’t going to burden him with it. She knew he had the Stark internship, decathalon training, general high school stuff. She also suspected he had a pretty huge crush on Liz.
Who didn’t?

But she also knew Peter was hiding something. She didn’t know what. She never asked.
When you like someone, you notice all of those crazy things that other people don’t. And Peter Parker dodged a LOT of classes. A LOT of meetings. Always good reasons, but still: Ned was always weirdly antsy about it.
But (y/n) couldn’t bring herself to pry. To anyone else, maybe.
Not to Peter. Her Peter.

She was suddenly jolted out of her daze by a “thump” as Peter crashed into her floor; the sound echoing around the house.
Muffled sounds came from outside her door.
“You okay, (y/n)?” she heard her mother’s voice call out.
“Yeah! I’m just…doing yoga!” (y/n) replied through the door. Her mother laughed in response; her excuse was about as ridiculous as it sounded.

Peter looked up sheepishly, swinging his backpack off of his shoulder and deliberately placing it down slowly.
“Sorry” he mouthed, smiling slightly as he stood there.
And that’s when she noticed the huge gash running across his cheek.
“Jesus Peter! What the hell is that?!” she asked, taking several steps towards him. He clenched his jaw, tufts of brown hair sticking to the blood that had leaked onto his cheek.
“…I was riding my bike and…hey, are you watching Star Wars?” he trailed off, looking up at the TV with excited eyes.
(y/n) bit her lip, taking a better look at the cut. It’d need stitches, no doubt.
“-Earth to Parker. You fell off your bike?” (y/n) continued, taking his hand softly and leading him towards the bed to sit down. His hands were warm; calloused and ridged. She imagined it was from all of the design he’d been doing for the internship.

“Uh, yeah” he said, taking a seat next to her on the soft quilt “well, not my bike. Obviously. I don’t have a bike. Ned’s bike. But then I fell…”
“…You fell” (y/n) repeated, disbelief evident in her voice. She reached for a first aid kit she had leftover from training; pulling through the contents to find antiseptic wipes.
“Ned wasn’t around. I was by myself. And I was cycling around here, so I thought you could help me. You know, since you know first aid”.
(y/n) looked up at him suspiciously, biting open the wrapping to the wipes with her teeth.
“You know; not that I don’t love you climbing into my window at 8pm, but doesn’t your aunt know how to do this?”

“She’s…not great with this” Peter laughed nervously, his eyes darting around “she worries”.
“I can’t imagine why” (y/n) chuckled, taking the wipe in her palm. Peter’s eyes caught in her bedroom lamp; she realised he’d been staring at her this whole time. Not just glancing. Staring.
Something about that make her hands feel a little less steady than they were before.
“Hold still” she swallowed, pressing the wipe to his cheek gently. He winced slightly, eyelids fluttering as he bit down on his lip. She noticed there was no dirt on his sweater or jeans; no dirt on his shoes.

She knew Peter had secrets. Other than that, she didn’t need to know.

“Sorry, I know it hurts” she whispered sympathetically. The Force Awakens blared in the background; Han Solo and Leia reuniting.
Peter said nothing, but his eyes opened; chocolate brown stark against the flush of his cheeks. In a gentle movement, his hand folded atop her own on his cheek: guiding her to clean the places it hurt the most. She saw his gaze soften; flickering to her lips and then back to her eyes in a continual motion. She could hardly breathe from the headrush.

“Peter…”
“If you want me to stop” he breathed “say so”.
(y/n) felt her lip quiver: her heart fluttering as her eyes felt heavy.
“Don’t stop” she whispered, desparation creeping into her voice.
The smile Peter Parker gave her lit up his entire face. He dropped his hand, cradling hers in his own. Slowly, carefully: he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was everything. Electricity and fire in her blood, all starlight and rain. She could feel him smiling against her lips, and she suddenly couldn’t help but laugh against his mouth.
He pulled away, laughing quietly, a tenderness she’d never seen in his eyes.
“Was I that bad?” he laughed.
(y/n) bit her lip, suppressing a smile as she shook her head.
“I just thought…I mean, you and Liz…”
Peter looked stunned.
“No! She’s cool and stuff but she’s just…” he trailed off, his hand reaching up to run his thumb along her jaw.
“Not?” (y/n) breathed.
“You. She’s not you” he smiled, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips.

And with that, there was nothing more to say.

okay lets talk about sam wilson

Sam Wilson who went to fight for his country and joined one of the fucking most dangerous branches and went on the craziest missions and escaped with his life by the skin of his teeth over and over again and yeah, he was saving people and he loved that, has always loved helping people, but he also loves the whistle of air passing over his wings and the swoop of adrenaline as he dodges missiles and bullets. 

Sam Wilson who watched his best friend get shot out of the sky. 

Sam Wilson who came home but still isn’t quite certain he did, not completely, not in the ways that really count. Sam who now spends his time talking to other vets who know what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night, shaking and crying and so goddamn certain that they’re back there that they can almost taste the sand in the back of their throat, smell the blood and dust and heat like tar. Sam who thinks he sees Riley one day at the mall and has to go hide in the toilet until his lungs no longer feel like they’re collapsing. 

Sam Wilson who has a huge, sprawling family, who is constantly getting invited to holidays and parties and weekend get togethers just for the hell of it. Who goes and spends the whole time playing with his nieces and nephews and ignoring the concerned questions of aunts and grandmothers and second cousins. Who learned to bake at his momma’s knee and just can’t shake the instinct to care for people by feeding them. 

Sam who sees a superhero out jogging and all he can think is how terribly alone he seems. 

Sam Wilson who recognizes Steve’s PTSD when everyone else was content to just ignore it and hope it went away because Steve is Captain America except when he’s really just another soldier who has seen too much death and too little life. Sam who does more to help Steve in two conversations than SHIELD has done in two years. 

Sam Wilson who brings Steve Rogers and the Black fucking Widow into his home because there was never any question of whether or not he would. Sam who hands over his records like an application because yeah he got out for a good reason and yeah Captain America might need him but Steve Rogers needs him more and really, at the end of it all, he’s goddamn selfish. He’s selfish because he has missed the feeling of speed blurring the world around him, of weightlessness during a dive, of free-fall and flight, of danger and battle and the absolute freedom of the sky more than anything else in the world and being able to help Captain America and the Black Widow and the whole goddamn world is just a big fucking bonus to getting his wings back. 

He still feeds them breakfast though. 

Sam Wilson who is way out of his depth when a man with a fucking metal arm rips the fucking steering wheel right out of his fucking hands. 

Sam Wilson who did not sign up for this except he did and even if he isn’t sure how to deal with a brainwashed formerly-dead best friend he still recognizes the look in Steve’s eyes and knows he has to keep following this man because someone has to make sure Steve Rogers makes it out of this alive and it sure as shit ain’t going to be Steve Rogers. Who exchanges a look with the Black Widow and is both terrified and comforted to know that she also knows this. 

Sam Wilson who almost dies and almost dies but then doesn’t. Who got his wings back for a short, glorious time before being grounded again but knowing that this time, nothing is going to keep him there. Who decides to follow Steve Roger’s on his hopeless hunt for a ghost because the look in Steve’s eye is one he’s seen in the mirror too many times to count and someone needs to look after that white boy before he does something stupid. Or maybe he just needs someone to do something stupid with him. 

Either way, Sam’s in. 

Good girls don’t (sneak peek)

There are a lot of things good girls don’t. They don’t laugh too loud, they don’t dress too short, they don’t swear and they don’t put themselves out there. They wait, and they do it while sitting properly in their pristine white dresses, with their hands crossed over their laps and their back sitting up straight.

There’s a lot of things good girls don’t and getting their panties wet every time they see a guy is definitely one of them.

You rubbed your thighs together as your fingers pressed tightly to the table you were sitting in, trying to hold on to a reality that was slipping away as you looked at him. You imagined the taste of his skin, and how it must have felt against yours when he was lying on top of you, and you thought about the fire of his kiss, and how it probably tasted like peppermint and just a tiny hint of sin. You thought about heaven and having him lie next to you at night.

The fire that had settled in your lower tummy was going to consume you all at any moment, and you shifted in your seat, trying to release some of the pressure that had built between your legs. You were definitely wet.

But as much as you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, imagining yourself on your knees while your eyes obediently locked in with his. You imagined your lips wrapping around the two fingers he was offering to you, and the light bob you would do to take them all the way in, while your tongue pressed to them to suck them lightly, looking at him as his eyes, usually green and sweet, turned dark, the burning lust covering them as he gazed down at you. You even imagined the light gag of your throat as he pushed his fingers all the way in, and the moan that bubbled up from your very core when he slid them out, the strings of spit that fell down making you blush as you looked down.

“Look at me, yeah?” He would say, with his voice a little raspier than usual as he kneeled in front of you. “C’mon, kitten, look at me.” He would repeat his command slowly, a smirk curling up the corner of his lips as your eyes fluttered open to obey him. “Look at me while I fuck ya with my fingers, yeah? Use all that spit you left. Were you imagining my cock?” He would ask, his smirk growing bigger as you nodded, still unable to speak your own words, as your heart was knotting on your throat and beating rapidly at the sight of him. “You’re such a fucking good girl.”

“Hello! Are you there?” You heard someone say right next to you, the sound of your voice taking you by surprise and causing you to jump on your seat as a gasp left your lips. You had to thank your lucky stars the light in the room was pretty crappy, as you were fairly certain that you must’ve looked like a tomato at the moment, red up to your hair and firing up as you tried to sit still and crossed your legs.

“Jesus, Gems, I should put a bell on you.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, much like you had done with your legs, an armor of protection against the world, just in case someone could read your thoughts and know…

“Sorry, just needed to know if you were still with us.” She smiled, the same childish smile you had seen so many times on her brother before. The very same one that made your knees buckle down every time it was directed at you. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, just a bit hot.” You smiled, looking at her as she took a seat right next to you, and looked to the stage where her brother was playing the guitar softly.

“He’s killing it, isn’t he?” She grinned, unable to hide her pride. “Makes you wanna kiss the idiot.”

“It does.”

It was impossible not to look at him. Harry owned the stage like he was meant to do just that for the rest of his life like he was born to be a star. Even with his disheveled hair, and the pink pants that you hated, he looked like a star, the brightest one up in the sky, and you couldn’t help but let your heart soar in your chest for him.  

I hope you can see, the shape I’ve been in

While he’s touching your skin

This thing upon me, howls like a beast

You flower, you feast

The set finished, although you weren’t sure how long it had lasted or how many songs he had sung. You just knew he looked glorious through every minute of it, and that the most sinful thoughts had reigned over your body during every second of it. He was hot, clammy hands and beads of sweat running down his spine as he made his way to you, and you let your eyes run down his neck, thinking about how it must feel like to kiss it, right where his pulse point was, and taste the saltiness of his skin after a concert.

“You sure you’re ok?” Gemma asked you once again, scrunching up her perfectly done eyebrows as she threw a worried look at you.

“Yeah, Daniel just hasn’t answered my texts all day.” You shrugged your shoulders, looking at her with a soothing smile as she pursed her lips a little bit, the frown on her forehead deepening as she took a big breath, one of those that warned you were about to hear a piece of her mind.

“Good, Daniel’s a bloody wanker, who doesn’t even want to call you his girlfriend. Tell him to sod off, you deserve better.” She said like she had just told an order you were supposed to follow suit. It didn’t matter, anyway. You hadn’t texted Daniel all day, and you weren’t even sure you wanted to. Still, he was a nice excuse, a great diversion from your real thoughts.

“I know.” You nodded.

“Do you girls know” Harry said, as he plopped right between the two of you, and his arms went around each of your shoulders, his lips curling into a huge grin as he looked at you, the sudden urge to kiss him bubbling in your tummy. “this is a party? Why the sad faces?”  

“We just had to listen to you sing.” You smiled, wriggling your eyebrows as his smile disappeared for a second.

“It was quite a travesty,” Gemma added, and by now, the frown on his face was almost ridiculous, as he squinted up his eyes to his sister.

“We’re still recovering.” You said. Harry stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest while he tried to hide the pout that was threatening to come out if he didn’t hear reassuring words in the next couple of seconds.

“You were fantastic.” You caved in, smiling softly as a grin curled up on his lips. For a second there, you could’ve sworn his eyes had flicked to your lips, following the movement of your own as you spoke, but it was too quick, probably just a fickle of your imagination that was still heated up from all the dirty thoughts that had been circling in your mind.

“Thank you, love.” He whispered softly before turning to his sister. “And you’re not invited to anything anymore.”

“She started it!” She complained, rolling her eyes as he jumped from his seat to talk to the crew. He shook every hand, and kissed a lot of cheeks, saying polite things to everyone as he made his way through the room.

“Let’s go and look for him or we’re not getting outta here ever.” She said, smiling widely as she jumped from the table and looked at you, beckoning to follow her. Her expression turned serious, solemn almost, and her hand went to her tummy and she stood up straight. “And then, we’ll party.”

“Oh, I should probably go and look for Daniel.” You said, stammering a little when your eyes fell on your lap, not wanting to look at Harry anymore than you had to. You were afraid that if you did, he would know all the things you would let him do to you.

“Oh, no!” Gemma said, widening her eyes as she took your hand in hers to pull you off of your seat. “I told you, Daniel’s a bloody wanker. We’re going to party and he can go fuck himself.”

There was not much room for discussion, cause her hand was firmly wrapped around yours and as she started to walk to the exit, she dragged you behind, making you run a little so you could keep up with her. Harry shrugged, following behind the two of you to quickly disappear into of a black car that was waiting outside for you.

You sat next to Harry, which probably wasn’t the best idea, cause you could feel the warmth his body irradiated right next to you, threatening to spark the fire that had already settled down. Your fingers trembled, itching to grab his hand in yours, or maybe to trace down his thigh, squeezing the meaty parts between them as you leaned to give him a kiss.

The ride was torturously slow, every bit of it filled with Harry’s scent, cologne mixed with the sweat of his skin, and with the thoughts of him pressing you down to the mattress, arms pinned to the bed while his lips sucked on your skin. You could barely keep up with the lazy conversation, dizzy from all the images that kept rushing in your head.

“Babe?” You heard Harry say, but that wasn’t what caught your attention at all. It was the sparks, literal electric energy, that escaped out of your skin when he touched you, skimming his fingers lightly on your arm to call for you. A gush of air left your lips, and your eyes slowly met with his. They were green, bright and sweet even in the dim light of the car, and they looked at you with such intensity you had to wonder if the world had disappeared around you. “We’re here.” But it hadn’t. You looked out of the window now that the car had stopped, and for the first time, you noticed you were in front of Harry’s brand new home.

“I thought we were going to party.” You said in confusion, taking his hand to let him help you out of the car. This time it was more of a firework, a subtle, intimate firework that sparkled and shined just for the two of you. You looked at your joined hands, wondering if you were going crazy, or if he could feel it, the silent pleading of your own body to be his.

“I’m not in the mood for people.” He shrugged. “We can party here. Do you have anywhere else to be?”

“No.”

“Good, I want you here with me.” He smiled.

****

The idea of a party often involves alcohol, loud music, and annoying people. This one had all of the above, the bubbles of alcohol buzzing in your head as you laid down. The grass was wet and it was probably a bad idea to lie on it while wearing a dress, but Harry was next to you and you were gazing at the few stars that popped up in London’s sky, so nothing really mattered.

The back of his fingers brushed against yours and you turned around to look at him. There was a boyish smile on his face, showing off his dimples as he laid on his side. His bottom lip got trapped between his teeth, and once more the intensity of his gaze was enough to leave you breathless.

“You deserve better, y’know that, right?” He said in a low voice, his minty breath fanning over your skin as you tilted your head to one side.

“Not everyone can be Harry Styles.” You shrugged, a smile curling up the corner of your lips when you peered up to be. “He’s not half as bad as Gemma makes him out to be, Harry. And it’s not that serious, anyway. I don’t wanna marry him, I just…”

“He’s a nice shag?” He smirked.

“He’s decent, and I’m not discussing my sex life with you. I’m not that drunk.”

“He cannot be a good shag.” Harry chuckled in disbelief, turning to lie on his back. The little hairs on your neck rose, looking at him as the light laughter rumbled in his belly. “First, I’ve seen his cock…”

“Harry!”

“It’s not that impressive.”

“What were you doing looking at his…” You stopped yourself, grunting a bit as you turned around to lie on your back as well. Your arms crossed over your chest and you frowned as you looked at the stars up above you.

“His what?”

“Harry…”

“Oh, c’mon, say it!”

“Harry!”

“That word has to look so fucking pretty coming out of your lips. C’mon, say it.”

“You’re an idiot, Jesus.” You laughed, but still, a weird pride settled in your tummy at his words. Pretty, something looked pretty when you said it.

“Just say it!”

“His cock, Harry, his cock!”

anonymous asked:

pairing of your choice + soulmate au :)

Harry isn’t born with his.

He doesn’t know it; there aren’t any photos of when he was a baby, and Petunia doesn’t make any noise about the flashbang of scarlet that creeps up his palms, smears up his forearms and leaves welts on his biceps, across his chest.

He gets them a year and a few months after he’s born.

He’s never met anybody with a marking as bold, as courageous, as his. He ducks his head away from his aunt’s blackened and faded smears across her shoulders, inching out from the straps of the dresses she wears. Averts his gaze from the way Uncle Vernon’s salmon pink peaks out from his scalp and curls around his ears.

He wears his with pride, the deep scarlet of courage and love and beauty a mark that he doesn’t hide. His soulmate is glorious, and the scarlet only deepens over time.

It inches up his throat, an ocean of blood on the cliff of his jaw. As he grow,s gets thinner, stretches tall and lean, he starts to look fierce. The lichtenberg type scar on his forehead that branches across his face, bites into the side of nose and gnarls the side of his mouth is stark white against the black of his skin, scarlet creeping up like ivy.

His aunt calls his a delinquent, says that he looks “thuggish”. His uncle says worst. 

Harry has to to bite his tongue, feels a curl of anger in his belly because his soulmate is beautiful, is a ocean of pride in something Harry feels is bigger than anything he’s ever known.

—-

Ginny is born with hers.

She’s never know anything different but the scarlet of her hair, the warm chestnut of her eyes and the bright starlight scatter of gold. It creeps up her palms, up her forearms and bicep, smearing across her chest like some great hand had dipped itself into paint and smeared it across her skin.

She adores it, likes the way her scarlet hair plays against the shimmering gold of the marks. She wears it with all her seven year old pride, how it plays hide and go seek with the numerous freckles spattered across her skin, how it glows bright and luminous in the sun.

Her mum sits her down, explains it like she did to the others. What the markings are. Ginny understands it, barely. She’s too preoccupied with how her brothers and parents and relatives markings don’t even come close to the flashbang gold that is hers, how it glows like a lumos has been lit beneath her stretched thin skin.

Her mother let’s Ginny lift her hair, see the sky blue of Ginny’s father’s markings,  smatter of raindrops that curl around Molly’s throat and smear across her collarbones like a scarf.  She holds Ginny’s hand, tight, smears her fingers over the gold and brings them up so they can both look.

You’re strong,” Her mum says. There’s something a lot like pride in her voice. “And so is your soulmate. These are yours, and they are beautiful and glorious. Something you don’t have to hide if you don’t want to,”

Ginny’s never thought about hiding hers.

She still doesn’t understand, really. But as she grows, as the gold creeps up her jaw, a cradle that her chin rests upon, she thinks maybe this is what her mother was talking about. She’s never seen anybody with as big a marking as hers, and something like pride settles into the pit of her belly.

5x09 review-One Fettered Slave

I can’t believe we’ve come to this point.

One episode before the final epilogue and it feels so surreal-i can’t even begin to imagine  how it must’ve been for the people that have sticked to this show for 4 years.

Ep 9 was what i imagined it to be: quick paced, action packed and extremely emotional.

I was scared about the analogy between the Helena moments and the general mythology arc cause they had to show a lot of things- especially after Siobhan’s death- but they balanced it well.

let’s analyze the different thematics:

  • The Funeral

Siobhan’s funeral  started with Sarah speaking . In an episode that is focused on another character i think the writers did a good choice not showing Sarah’s vulnerability.

She’s suddenly the pillar of the family and eveyone is expecting directions from her. She has to be the strong one there’s no other way. Her grief and feelings are not her priority right now  so she won’t break down. Not in front of Kira, not in front of everyone.

Sarah’s grown so much.This moment says it all

what am i supposed to do?

she can’t afford losing her child as well. She’s the reason she’s keeping it together after all. So she stays with her and comforts her. Something Ms S had done all those years when Sarah was absent.

I also adored the symbolism of her wearing her mother’s jacket.

Sarah taking responsibility, lifting the weights of this family

also congrats for letting Tatiana without make up in her  portrayal of Sarah (or rather the “no make up” makeup ya know) cause it made her emotional chaos more humane… her eyes said it all..

also about her breaking down- i believe we’re gonna see her grieve the way she’s supposed to after everything is finally over. Last episode is Sarah centric so it totally fits to have her moment in the epilogue.

What i didn’t like from the funeral scene was the singing at the beginning, which i found anticlimactic..it would be much better if we could just hear Sara and Felix speaking with no other sound in the background..

Also the fact that 4 days after S’s death they could walk and talk in a house that is a murder scene was totally unrealistic..Police had to be all over the place investigating and all…

Unless Art handled the situation in a way..but still a plot hole is a plot hole

  • Team working together

Cosima,Felix, Art, Hellwizard, Scott, Rachel ok what a pleasant suprise to see everyone working together. I loved the fact that supporting actors got the chance to actually help the ledas and be useful. Each one helped in their own field.

Cosima helped with the Dyad information and Scotty-Hell with the security system (even if it was kinda weak to hack the security system with such convienience-i’m bypassing that lol)

Even Rachel helped!! Rachel!!! My only complaint was Alison’s minimum participation in this but i get that given the circumstances her involvement  would be extremely difficult

Should i talk about Art??

Cause everything

screams

SACRIFICE

and all this time i ‘ve been crazy rambling about how his chances of surving are veeeery  low…. ep 9 built his exodus cause the final episode will be Leda/Sarah Centric…so be prepared guys…

i get Ebro’s schedule..i trully do..and i was fine with Sardinia..i was fine with Geneva as well cause there was a reason behind it plotwise but we’ve come to the point where there isn’t even an explanation about this…

they didn’t clarify the reason she left… cause it doesn’t make sense when Siobhan’s funeral was 4 days after the gallery party…there wasn’t a reason good enough to justify her absence that’s why the writers didn’t give one…they prefered to let the fans decide which reason was good enough…let’s be real though that was sloppy..and as much as i love orphan black i’m gonna point out  it’s weakening points as well.

  • Coady+ Mark

So Mark died absolutely clueless…his death matched Ira’s death, both manipulated by their creators, hoping for a cure that never existed in the first place.Too bad that there wasn’t any building up to bring tension and to make us care about those characters… so this scene felt kinda flat at least for me…i believe the reason behind this was cause ob writers didn’t want to make Coady a grey character…. well i for once celebrated her death after this scene

wait it is confirmed that Coady is dead right? I mean Helena beat the shit out of her so it would be  impossible to zombie out ?? or should i be worried??

  • PT + Rachel!Sarah

oh god PT without his wig is like a bulb with ears lmao

anyway so i loved these 2 together…this is the first time Sarah meets John am i right?

also congrats to the props team and the level of detail they use in each scene…i liked that Sarah didn’t wear the same patch Rachel wears…

a++ to the dialogue about PT perving out on Rachel because in that way Sarah put herself on Rachel’s shoes and actually saw for the first time how they were monitoring her sister and what actually means complete lack of privacy…

also both Susan and PT seem to have a perplexed image as to what a father/mother figure looks like

you don’t fuck your ‘son’/ or watch you ‘daughter’ masturbate and then call them “son/daughter” lol

but it gave me pleasure that Rachel never actually called PT “father” and that’s how Sarah got exposed..

the moment she cut him with the knife i was like “yaaaas finish him lol”


HELENA

  • FLASHBACKS

omg??

don’t get me wrong the kid was very good/ super talented and all

but how could they do this???

i mean it was SO.FUCKING.OBVIOUS that this isn’t the face of a leda clone you couldn’t concentrate on anything else!

at least i couldn’t! Especially when 2 episodes before they used canonically Cynthia!

i mean

??????

it defies logic?? there’s no excuse??

they could have dubbed the ukranian parts i don’t care if little Cynthia couldn’t play that good that was so wrong in so many levels… it had the “Spongebob takes a bath in the sea” logic lol

and it was really such a shame cause the flashbacks were so amazing..

first of all i loved the whole “pleasures of the flesh are unacceptable in a religious environment” thematic cause it adresses real social issues like the austerity and fake puritanism of social institutions.

the reason behind Helena’s bleached hair was a nice touch even though little Helena should also have some  burn marks after this…we got to know why she has those pink shades under her eyes as well so that was good..

as far as to why her hair is still blonde after all this time…well i choose to patch this plot hole by believing that Helena did this to herself again and again..she bleached/dyed them as a sign of punishment, self harm  and guilt cause that was the way she was raised- a mouthpiece and killing machine of others..

the art department did a brilliant job with the dollhouse and the correlation between Helena’s fixation with dolls back in her Rachel assassination attempt

Tomas took her and hide her the fact  that she’s a copy..she grew up in the illusion that she was special..that she was the original..in fact Rachel and Helena fantasized about the same thing and it is so fascinating to see how they are 2 different sides of the same coin…

  • Most Heartbreaking moment

Oh god this moment…

what kind of mother could you possibly make?

jesus Tatiana each time you give more and more, i haven’t seen an actor as committed and devoted as you are, you deserve all the praise girl woah

Coady found Helena’s weakness and it is not how she smells, looks or talks…it’s about her capacity of giving a future more bright and beautiful to her children than the one her younger self  had to endure…

and at the end of the day she’s willing to take the bait..  it’s either freedom or death…exactly like Rachel..there’s no middle ground..she won’t leave her children become experiments so that’s why i find super important that we finally get a Rachel Helena scene…there’s a high probability Rachel won’t make it in the finale so at least lets have a last glorious scene with the 3 of them as they try to escape…or so i hope…

  • THE TWINS

YEEEEEESSSSS

all this crazy rambling about this being a Sarah-Helena season finally came true! Everything came full circle and this moment was SO important like you guys don’t understand…

Sarah finally made up for Helena..she gave her her blood to keep her alive…she put each and everyone of her friends and family searching for her, she made her a priority- drowning her grief -cause she couldn’t lose another one..especially Helena.

And now she will help her give birth..she will be there for her, protect her, give her life even..even tho after the obspoilers fiasco my theory now is that Art is gonna save Sarah…because it is super symbolic .. it would be his second chance and his redemption after losing Beth.. now he’s gonna do it right. Idk it is so foreshadowing… i wonder what Rachel’s role is gonna be..i sure hope she’s the one that’s gonna kill PT but who knows at this point.


Ep 9 set the mood for a very powerful ob series finale..Helena’s inner world was raw and pure and it’s going to  parallel  Sarah’s  final  gut-wrenching episode.The twins are going to set the epilogue and i trully hope their journey will be as magical and  satisfying as this show was  for all of us.

Spelling Fights

Originally posted by elennemigo

Word Count: 1,816

Authors: Deka & Ale

Warning: None, just fluffiness

Pairing: Benedict Cumberbatch x Wife!Reader

Summary: The little fight between an American and a British couple

Credits to this video for the awesome interview: https://youtu.be/eX2M6Lf8WKc

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