#i have to believe this because it genuinely confuses me when people don't like them

[sometimesraven]

re: the ableism in Dot and Bubble

I understand it almost certainly wasn't Rusty's intention for the "can't walk without the arrows" thing to be ableist, but the implications are there and it was so, so hard to watch.

As I said while liveblogging, I've noted that reliance on tech like Google Maps has caused a regression in skills like navigation and a frustrating refusal to even try. I'm frequently faced with that fact as I live somewhere you have to use your eyes to see and most fast food delivery drivers just Cannot Find Us bc the GPS goes wild and they can't follow the directions I always give them so I inevitably have to go out to find them myself. Believe me, I know what he was going for with that part of the script.

However.

When you exaggerate that point to the tune of "she literally cannot walk" without the aid, and then instead of it being deeply disturbing to the two 'kind, helpful' characters (Doc n Ruby), they actively roll their eyes at her and it's played as an "omg how stupid is she" moment, you have to see how that looks.

Let's reframe it: someone you've met was raised in a cult. A very insular, very strict cult that they literally have never seen outside of. At this point in time you know nothing about them but you do know they're in a very insular, very closed-off society. One day they tell you they have no idea how to,,,,,, idk, wash themselves without assistance. If your first instinct is to laugh at them and roll your eyes like they're overexaggerating, you're an ableist.

I struggle to believe anyone like the Doctor wouldn't perhaps initially react with confusion/incredulity but then, after realising this person is 100% serious, go "oh my god that's horrible okay uh let me try to walk you through this and teach you how".

It's a horrible, cynical response that would maybe track if at this point the characters already knew she was an entitled pissbaby. But they don't and that's why it comes across so terribly.

Especially when there's no indication that this is a side-effect of her entitlement and she's literally insulting herself "I'm so stupid!" and genuinely upset and frustrated that she can't even walk in the face of actual death. And yes, she miraculously can walk again once she meets Ricky but it wasn't because she was ignoring the Doctor's advice because racism because he had not given her any. She had literally zero clue how to walk without assistance until Ricky guided her.

This isn't a refusal to learn a skill based on entitlement, this isn't a heavy-handed metaphor, you have given this girl a disability (even if it is psychosomatic, it is still a disability). And in a time where social media + youth entitlement is being blamed for an increase of ADHD, Autism, chronic illness and DID diagnosis-seekers (among other things, but those are the ones people are most aggressive against) that just does not look good At All.

Russel could easily have made it so that they just had no idea how to navigate without the bubble and refused to learn.

Maybe at first show it as genuine frustration on Lindy's part that she can't find anything without guidance but slowly show that no, she's perfectly capable, she just doesn't care to learn.

Hell, you could have everything play out the same way but have her genuinely get offered help to begin with by the Doctor and ignore it, only for Ricky to say the same thing to her later and she gets it immediately.

Idk, anything beyond literally disabling her. The show does a great job at humanising her before showing us that she was a monster all along, but I feel like Rusty himself forgot that he was still representing a Whole Entire Person (something that people on all ends of the political spectrum do All The Time: "person is bad therefore [___ism] is okay in this instance". Ableism especially)

#doctor who #dw #dw spoilers #dot and bubble #ableism #rtd critical #idk it was a good episode for the allegory it was mostly going for #but once again RTD has neglected the minorities he isn't explicitly thinking about #and it's not entirely his fault because he IS trying and he IS improvving #but he is SO white and able bodied and cis and old #and it reflects in his writing #this episode *needed* a guest writer so badly #or at least sensitivity checks #bc it's clear they don't have that even just from the heavy use of ableist slurs in the Unleashed ep

[selfship-vent-confessions]

I didn't know where else to ask this, so if you don't post this, I understand, but wtf is a proshipper/comshipper?

I mean, based off of how everyone acts about them they're clearly problematic, but what do they do that's a problem?

I genuinely don't know what they are, and google is telling me things that don't seem like the whole truth based off of the way people are acting. I need to know so that way I can make sure I'm not friends with problematic people irl or online.

Can someone help pls?

TW/CW: mentions of abuse, pedophilia, incest, harassment, and pro/comshippers

"Proship" has technically two definitions, with antis (people against proshipping) saying it stands for "problematic ship" while proshippers themselves say it stands for "pro shipping" (in the sense of "pro" meaning "to be for/support"). No matter which way you see the label being shortened to, it means they support every type of relationship, including incest, pedophilia, abusive relationships, and other horrible things. Proshippers claim they do this because they're "anti censorship", "anti harassment", or they "want people to be allowed to ship whatever they want no matter what". But these are gross sentiments to have considering the context they specifically use it in and relationship dynamics we're talking about (though, yes, you can be anti harassment and anti censorship without being a proshipper, it's just terms they use a lot to claim what they're doing is good). They think that every ship has a right to exist, though importantly, to ship something is to support it, so there is no "I ship it but I don't support the relationship". The act of shipping in it of itself is supporting the relationship.

Comship is for "complicated ship", and is synonymous with proship. Same thing, different label. Both will think of any excuse under the sun to try and say why they're actually not that bad, but they're all twisted words or exaggerated truths. Granted, antis don't always handle situations regarding proshippers the best, there have been cases of antis going much too far or sending harassment. But proshippers will have you believe antis are these super brutal abusers in fandoms who harass people 24/7, and that's not true at all. Proshippers also frequently ignore their own histories of severe harassment to make themselves look better.

There are some beliefs pro/comshippers have that you can have and it won't automatically make you one of them. You can believe in anti censorship and anti harassment, in people being allowed to ship without being harassed, or in representation of complex relationships without being a pro/comshipper. It's how these sentiments are applied that make the difference. "Ship whatever you want" should not extend to pedophilia, incest, abusive relationships, or other similarly disgusting themes. Representation of complicated dynamics should not be used to support or normalize those dynamics if they're unhealthy/abusive/ect. Anti censorship and anti harassment shouldn't equate to showing people this disgusting content without their consent, or to children just because "it happens". That doesn't make it okay.

The reason the labels are so often confused is because there are people that use them in the wrong way or where the label wouldn't apply. A healthy relationship between two consenting full-grown adults can't be pro or comship. It's when you start subtracting from that is when it becomes genuinely harmful (abusive, nonconsensual, barely legal, or involving children). Normalizing or supporting these relationships is harmful and in several instances has done active harm to real people. The only ones who debate this are people who are part of those groups themselves who try to scramble for every possible excuse as to why it's okay (it isn't). I'd be here all day if I explained every single pro/comship argument and why they're wrong or don't apply the way they think it does, but as a general overview and definition this should work

#self shipping #self ship #selfship #selfship community #selfshipping #self ship community #selfship confessions #selfshipper #self shipper #self ships #tw proship #tw proshitter #cw proship #cw proshitter #tw comship #tw comshipper #cw comship #cw comshipper #dni proship #anti proship #fuck proshitters #proship dni #proshitters dni #dni comship #comship dni #anti comship #anti proshitter #confession 408 #owner answers

[forcebookish]

i hope that for every person who stubbornly dislikes forcebook just because of their only friends screen time, there are two people falling in love with them for the first time

#or three. or 80. #i have to believe this because it genuinely confuses me when people don't like them #like if i think about it too hard i'll start crying #because i don't know how you can see them or what they have to say and not want to give them the world #forcebook

[aphroditesmoon]

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.' 

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #dior goodjohn #wlw

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[adiraargent]

He doesn't deserve you - Mattheo Riddle

Synopsis: Mattheo is your best friend and doesn't like your boyfriend Warnings: swearing, suggested toxic relationship

Requests are open :)

The Hogwarts corridors buzzed with students rushing to and fro, their chatter and laughter filling the air. Amidst the bustling crowd, you tried your best to navigate your way through the bustling crowd, feeling a weight on your shoulders that wasn't just from your bag full of textbooks.

"Hey, Y/N!" A voice called out, and Mattheo Riddle appeared at her side, a small smile on his face, one that he pretty much reserved for only her. The two of them had been best friends for years now, trusting each other more than anyone else

"Hey, Theo," you replied, trying to match his enthusiasm, though your smile faltered slightly. Thoughts of your boyfriend had been weighing on your mind for the last hour after one of the Slytherin girls had muttered a few words under her breath at the beginning of potions class.

You hadn't heard what she had said word for word, but you did manage to make out the part where she had said 'why is he even with her, he could do so much better?'

"What's wrong?" Mattheo asked, his voice holding a joking tone "Someone take a shit in your coffee this morning?" but his grin faltered a little as he caught the sad glimpse in her eyes, "hey? What's wrong?"

You hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one was listening before you spoke in a hushed tone, almost like you were embarrassed or ashamed. "It's just… I don't know if I belong where I am."

Mattheo's gaze softened, and he leaned in slightly, an intent yet confused look in his eyes. "What do you mean?" His earthy eyes flickered over her face, switching between her pretty eyes, her slightly chapped lips which he could tell she had been gnawing at (something she did when she was anxious) and her cute freckles.

"It's just… my boyfriend, you know," you began, your voice filled with uncertainty. "He's in the year above us and he's so smart and popular, and… sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for him. Like he's too good for me, ya know what I mean?."

You forced yourself to look up at your best friend, curious as to what his reaction would be. You felt your cheeks flush red in embarrassment as you noticed the unreadable look on his face. Maybe I'm just over thinking? You opened your mouth to say something, hoping to put it behind you and escape an awkward situation but Mattheo cut you off.

"Too good for you? Don't be ridiculous. They don't deserve you." Mattheo's expression shifted, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and disbelief.

You chuckled weakly, feeling lucky to have someone like Mattheo as your friend, but you know he was only saying it because he felt like he had to. "You're biased, Mattheo. You're my best friend."

"I'm not biased," he insisted, a hint of urgency in his voice. "I know you, love. You're kind, smart, and one of the most genuine people I've ever met. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

You met his gaze, feeling a mix of gratitude and doubt. "I wish I could believe that."

"You should," Mattheo replied firmly. "You're worth more than you give yourself credit for."

As they walked, you couldn't shake off the doubts that lingered in your mind, wondering if you truly belonged with someone like your boyfriend. He was a year older, had beautiful green eyes and nice brown hair too, plus he was one of the smartest Slytherins in his year.

Mattheo, on the other hand, couldn't fathom why she would ever doubt her worth. He hated that she didn't see what he saw.

Days passed, and you found yourself spending more time with Mattheo, seeking solace and comfort in his conversations. He was always there to lift your spirits and now that exams were coming up, the two of you could help each other out with study.

One afternoon, the two of you sat by the lake, the sunlight dancing on the water's surface as you sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. You played with the hair tie on your wrist, your head slightly sore from the ponytail that you had your hair in the whole day, happy that you could let your hair down now.

"y/n/n," Mattheo began, his tone gentle but firm, "you need to stop doubting yourself."

"I'm fine Theo," you sighed, letting out a soft sigh as you gazed out at the lake in front of you, your eyes lighting up slightly as you watched some fish jump out then back in, playing around.

"You're not," Mattheo insisted, he bumped your shoulder softly, making you look over at him, his eyes locking with yours. "Your boyfriend is a dick and you're sitting here wondering if you're good enough for him? He stands you up all the time, laughs at you and doesn't stick up for you when his friends say shit about you."

"Theo..."

"I know you wont listen to me cause you're stubborn as shit, but believe me when I tell you, you're better off without him," Mattheo sighs

The conversation lingered in the air, but before they could delve deeper, footsteps interrupted their moment. Your boyfriend approached you both, a smirk on his face as he greeted you.

"Hey, babe," he said casually, barely acknowledging Mattheo's presence.

"Hey," you replied softly, feeling a twinge of discomfort.

"Ready to go?" he asked, already turning to leave.

You glanced at Mattheo, who met your gaze with a subtle look of concern. You winced slightly as you subconsciously bit the inside of your cheek, going to stand up

Mattheo looked up at him, a blank look on his face, "Actually, mate we were kinda in the middle of talking about the potions assignment we're working on together."

Your boyfriend scoffed, "cant you talk about that shit later man? My mates and I were gonna go down and grab some food and shit from the kitchens and the elves always give us more when y/n is there since they like her."

"Well as I said, we're kind of busy," Mattheo snapped, his voice dangerously low.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and looked at you, "get up, lets go," he grumbled waiting for you to stand up, but you didn't move.

Her boyfriend raised an eyebrow, a hint of annoyance crossing his features. "Fine. Suit yourself."

As he walked away, you felt a mix of relief and uncertainty wash over you. She turned to Mattheo, a silent question in her eyes.

"You deserve better than that," Mattheo said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. "You deserve someone who sees your worth and values you for who you are. Plus he's just a dick overall"

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so," Mattheo replied firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're one of the best people I know, and you deserve someone who sees that."

You nodded, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions as you watched your boyfriend disappear into the castle. Mattheo's words echoed in your mind, a voice of reason amid your doubts.

*

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself reassessing your relationship. Mattheo had been consistent with his whole 'I hate your stupid ass boyfriend' thing, which didn't really help any of your doubts.

However it had seemed to have opened your eyes a bit. You began to notice how close your boyfriend would get to other girls, picked up on his snarky remarks that he would mutter under his breath when you would say stuff, the way he'd just sit there and even sometimes laugh when his friends would say something about you.

One evening, as you sat in the library, your boyfriend approached you, his expression plain and care free.

"Hey, Y/N," he began, a note of hesitation in his voice. "I've been thinking… I'm not sure this is working out."

You felt your hear skip a few beats, a mix of emotions flooding through you. She looked up to meet his gaze, surprised yet oddly relieved

"Okay," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. In all honesty, you saw it coming.

"Okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at you, "that's it?"

"What? Did you expect her to beg you to stay?" a voice spoke up. You felt your eyes widen at the familiar tone

"Theo?" You asked in shock, turning in your seat to see Mattheo standing behind you, glaring at the boy who was standing in front of you

Your boyfriend ex-boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes, "fuck off Riddle," he sneered, taking a step forwards. Mattheo took a step closer to him, not cowering in the slightest as he dug his hands into his pockets, a cold look on his face

"You said your point, you can leave now," Mattheo said plainly. Your ex rolled his eyes, huffing a 'whatever' before turning around and leaving.

You sat there, feeling a sense of freedom mingled with uncertainty.

"Are you okay?" Mattheo asked gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"I think so," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "It's just… unexpected."

Mattheo's hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Sometimes unexpected things are for the best."

They sat in silence, the weight of the moment hanging between them. You found yourself feeling a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, and a tinge of regret. You glanced at Mattheo, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For everything."

"Always," Mattheo replied with a small smile, his eyes filled with understanding and support. He had been there for a long time, stuck by her side through everything.

And all he could do was hope that one day, she would love him just as much as he loved her.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #slytherin x yn #slytherin imagines #harrypotter #harry potter imagines #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x hufflepuff #mattheo riddle x Ravenclaw #mattheo riddle x slytherin #mattheo riddle x gryffindor #fluff #fluff imagine #drabble #adiraargent

[im-am-not-a-weenie]

🍓period comfort

This is self indulgent 😃.

Reader is AFAB and I will be using she/her pronouns

shout out to all the girlies who don't like taking medicine and just power through it the cramps.

hinting at period sex with astarion, yknow how it is

spelling errors <3

see end for a/n

Gale, Astarion, halsin,

🍓Gale

you felt like shit. utter shit. if you didn't believe in the gods now you did because you've been praying for them to end your suffering hours ago. you were curled up in a ball in the corner of your tent

"Love, are you in here?'' your pity party was interrupted by your darling boyfriend Gale.

you let out a grunt to signal that you were in fact under the heap of blankets in the corner, you could hear a faint chuckle and footsteps nearing you

Gale crouched down and his knees gave a loud pop which made you smile a bit. "are you ok?" he asked gently. you shook your head under the blankets. "can I see you please?" his voice soft and words kind

with a huff you peaked out through the blankets. "there she is" Feeling his hand tuck a piece of your hair away you looked up. "what seems to be the matter?"

"I'm dying" you groaned. he immediately removed all your blankets and began scanning your body for injuries. "what's hurt, are you ok. you should tell me when you get hurt. or at least see Shadowheart or Halsin-." he rambles on

grabbing his worried hand and bringing it up for a kiss getting him to stop his ramble. " I'm fine gale, is just my period" That got him to stop, "oh" his face flushed, and just looked at you for a few seconds

"Why didn't you say that" he left the tent. before you could even get up to check on him he was back with a small basket filled with different plants food and canteens

you made a face of disbelief "Where did you get all of that on such short notice" The only answer you received was "I'm a wizard" he started to pile the blankets back on you but this time joining you in the pile

"eat this" he gave you a purple looking plant "it'll help your cramps " he said gently, you just shook your head. "cmon it'll make you feel better" he prompted." "I know," you said with a shrug and just snuggled into him

"Dont want icky medicine" he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close "Then what do you want" his hand started to play with your hair. "you" he let out a soft chuckle "That I can do"

you lay there in comfortable silence before Gale interrupted it. "you know I will make you eat that later right." you giggled "I'd like to see you try Wizard Boy."

spoiler alert, you ate the plant

🍓Astarion

let's be honest. he could care less (lies). astarion is one of those people who passively aggressively takes care of you

in a similar fashion you were in your tent curled up on the floor before astarion rudely barged in. "what are you still doing in bed." he asked dryly. you just groaned.

rolling his eyes he walked over and nudged you with his foot "Get up." looking up at him with a baffled expression you just stared at him "Did you just kick me?"

he scoffed "Darling I nudged you, you'll see kicking if you stay in bed any longer" he threatened with a smirk. "fuck off astarion i don't have to deal-" you cut yourself off with a groan as you doubled over and clutching your abdomen.

"stop being dramatic. it's not my fault you stayed up with Karlch and Wyll all night. you gave yourself the hangover now deal with it- why does it smell like blood in here." he looked confused and looked back down to you noticing how you clutching your lower stomach. it took a minute but finally, he connected the dots.

he sighed sitting on the ground and pulled you into his lap. "oh my poor dear." it was one of those rare occasions where his voice was soft and genuine

his hand trailed down and rested on your lower stomach. "does it hurt right here?" he asked softly as his other hand played with your hair. after answering with a simple nod he started to softly massage there trying to relieve some pressure.

"y'know," he said with a mischievous smile "you smell delicious right now. Gasping you hit him playfully "astarion." he giggled and held you tight against him. "come now dear we both know it wouldn't be the first time" he pressed a kiss on the top of your head

rolling your eyes fondly you giggled with him. "maybe later when I'm not feeling like I'm being stab." "of course darling, just think of it like an extra meal for me" that earned him another playful hit.

🍓Halsin

walking. sooooooooooo much walking, when will we stop walking. you think to yourself, you and your companions have been walking for almost the whole day, and for what. to look for a stupid necklace for a stupid-

"my heart are you alright" Internal monologue was interrupted by your mountain of a boyfriend Halsin. "No, I'm alright" quickly dismissing his worry. you didn't really want to do this quest but you knew the sooner you got it done the sooner you could make camp

he looked unsure but nodded making sure to slow his strides to walk with you. you felt his hand grasp yours. everything was fine until it wasn't, you felt a sharp pain in your uterus. you inhaled a deep breath and stopped moving, closing your eyes and trying to collect yourself

halsin stopped to observe you "Are....are you sure you're feeling well?" you felt a hand on your shoulder. your eyes met his, you gave him a reassuring smile "It's just cramps bear, I'll survive"

he looked at you worried "You started your cycle?" it made you laugh a tad. "no, not yet."

"then why-" "Halsin my love, I get cramps before during, and after. I'm fine" you explained calmly. another painful wave washed over you. this time Halsin picked you up and started walking in the opposite direction of anyone else

"Not that I'm complaining but what are you doing?" you giggled at the sudden lift. no matter how big you were Halsin made you feel small, but in a good way

"I'm taking you to camp," he said simply and left no room for arguments 'if you are suffering I'd rather you suffer in my arms in our bedroll' he kissed the top of your head.

you felt safe and loved, the rhythm of Halsin's steps made you drift to sleep. when you awoke you were wrapped up tightly in Halsin's arms, your bodies tangled together you smiled and kissed Halsin's cheek before falling asleep again

hey. i did it i posted on time. anyway, i hope yall liked this! it was purely self-indulgent. also thank you for all the love of my last post! I've never gotten that many notes before. my inbox is open for requests. and i also can write for other characters bg3. <3

#bg3 x reader #astarion #astarion x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x reader #halsin x reader #halsin bg3

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ok but what if I had to continue this story about Knight!Ghost and Presumptuous maiden!reader

She can still feel his breath on her, but the huge body pinning her to the wall ceases to move.

"...What?"

It’s pure shock.

She’s dropped so quickly she has to take support from the stones behind her.

She wouldn’t have to: Simon grabs her by the arm and prevents her from falling forward and back towards that plated chest. His eyes search for hers, and she looks up at the knight who almost raped her – in the corridor of all places like she’s nothing but a common whore. But for the first time ever there’s genuine shock, even fear in his stare. The remnants of lust flicker back alive every now and then, but mostly he looks like she just hurled a powerful curse at him when she told him she’s a virgin.

"I'm sorry,” she tries. “I’ll–I’ll never do it again. I promise."

"Bloody fucking…"

He looks her up and down, the leather straps of his armour wailing from his still heaving chest. She should bolt, now, when Simon has taken a step away from her and is clearly puzzled and confused. But she can’t: those eyes rise to hold her captive again. And now, there’s anger in them.

"You should be whipped."

"For what...?"

Her chest is heaving, too. She never knew how low her voice could get when there's want in the air and in her veins.

"You attacked me, sir. I should have you whipped," she continues like an absolute fool.

"Don't test me, girl," he slurs behind bared teeth. She finally remembers how to shut up.

"Tsk."

Simon nudges his head towards the stairway leading to her quarters. Get out while you can, the gesture says, and she gathers the hem of her heavy woollen dress and flees.

She never believed her miserable begging would stop or sway him. Simon is bound by oath and honour, or then he doesn’t want his master’s wrath upon him. Her worth is between her legs; they both know it. Defiling the king’s daughter could lose him his head.

She climbs the stairs, slips into her room and bolts the door. It should probably be strange that she’s left aching by what just happened. It should make her wake up from her silly dreams, that the only thing stopping this man from raping her is other men, not her feelings and sensibilities.

It should be considered a doom, not fate, that she only wants him more.

…

Simon never participates in the tournaments, but this time, rumour has it that he’s planning to join.

In a distressed hurry, she makes preparations for the great day. There can be no other reason for him to joust other than the wish to win her favour back. His actions speak louder than any words, and just for the sake of that, she has kept her promise. She walks the halls as if the knight called Simon never even existed. She won’t look his way even when he has his back turned on her. She only dreams about him when the moon is full and there are no more candles burning in her lonely room.

But it’s hard.

It’s difficult, and it’s a horrible fate she has to suffer, because now it’s he who can’t keep his eyes off her. Now it’s Simon who has suddenly caught her scent, who is suddenly interested in dangerous, stupid sports such as jousting that could injure or kill a man. But he’s willing to do the thing he apparently hates most – along with the fevered attention of insufferable, flirtatious maidens – because he needs a token of her favour. She’s sure of it: that’s why she embroiders a tiny ‘S’ on her finest, most precious handkerchief.

The tournament day is as beautiful as can be. Her heart is about to rend itself out of her chest when Simon approaches her, riding across the field in his heaviest grey armour. He’s surrendering himself at her mercy, and at the mercy of other people’s ridicule, rumour and gossip by making it known that he thinks himself worthy of her blessing. She wonders if she’s the one being played now: she can’t decipher why he would refuse her one day, then fight to gain her favour the next.

He accepts her silken handkerchief with a blank expression, but his eyes betray the inner turmoil when he sees the embroidery. A plain, simple token would have sufficed – the adorned ‘S’ is a bit too much, it's a clear sign. It’s ten times more clear than her earlier games, ten times more blaring than her vivacious little flirt. She could've embroidered the sentence “If you come up to my room at nightfall, I will let you in,” on it and the meaning would've been just as obvious.

He tucks it under his breastplate and gives her a sideways look that is filled with both distaste and longing. Only Simon can speak entire sentences through his eyes. They say, “You’ve gone too far,” and “If I come out of this alive, you’ll get whipped, or fucked, or both.”

And one thing she never knew about Simon was that he could joust better than anyone. There’s one dead, three wounded and five humiliated by the time Simon is declared the winner of the tournament. Everyone understands now why he never joins these things: he will only rob the fun of other knights by toying with them.

Her chosen one accepts the king’s words and the crowd’s applause with a stern but slightly painful expression. Simon would rather be anywhere but here, but endures being the centre of attention for the rest of the afternoon like a good, patient dog. Then he disappears somewhere, done with being the sudden pet of the people. The next time she sees him is in the morning as she descends the stairs.

“Fawn.”

She flinches from the now familiar dark voice. He’s been waiting for her, and almost prowls forth from the shadows when she’s floating down the steps. There’s a good few feet between them, but she can feel the heat emanating from him. Simon is always blazing like the sun, and he's always tired, downright exhausted, encumbered by pain or something worse.

“Do you always forget your promises so quickly?”

She corrects her posture under his tall shadow; she should’ve known there would be consequences for that handkerchief.

"What crime have I committed now?"

Simon never expects it when she fights back. Long, pale lashes cover the brief bafflement in his eyes, then he reaches for something under his tunic. Her heart skips a beat – he has kept it against his skin, right over his heart, instead of under the plate where he tucked it at the joust.

"This belongs to you," he holds it between them like it’s nothing but a piece of dirty cotton he wants to get rid of. Or then he doesn’t want to stain it with his hands – who knows? This man is so full of contradictions she’s having a hard time getting to the bottom of his soul. She has all the time in the world to study different characters here in the castle, but Simon remains a tightly locked mystery.

"No,” she lifts her chin proudly. “It belongs to you."

His nostrils flare for a moment – a sign of anger or exhilaration; you’d need a powerful witch to tell.

“A knight should return the lady’s favour if he survives the joust,” he mutters, clearly trying to make an effort to speak finely to a fine lady.

“You don’t have to. I made it for you.”

He grunts with frustration, then shoves her gift back inside his tunic. Then he tilts his head. A strange, dark little smile rises on his lips.

"Fawn. Did your father ever beat you?"

It’s only morning, but Simon makes it feel like they’re having this conversation in the cold, damp dungeons. Her heart shudders at the foul words, and yet, she fights to maintain eye contact. She fights both tooth and nail to look straight into the abyss.

"No."

"I can tell."

Insolent bastard, is her first thought at such audacity, but two can play this game, is the second. She takes a slow step forward and rejoices silently when Simon struggles to remain still.

"If I was your wife…" she starts softly, "Would you beat me?"

His nostrils flare again as he looks for a trap where there is none. She’s standing before him without any shields, with no weapons, and he still can’t tell, the poor man.

"I don't beat women," he finally spits. Then he succumbs to the impulse to get away from her, although it looks like he’s struggling to do so, too. He has to wrench himself free, and it gives her more power to rise rooted: to meet his crude manners, the arrogance of a dog.

"You'd never be my wife," is the last thing he says, so quietly that it’s nothing but a mutter; a sullen whisper. The birds have fallen silent, or then she can’t hear them anymore. The golden light that pours from the narrow windows makes it suddenly seem like this morning could last an eternity.

"Why not?" She whispers back.

The moment shatters – her knight escapes like he’s the fragile little fawn now. The clatter of his armour makes it known how much of a hurry he’s in to get away from the golden light... And from her.

#not so dark as the first one but still kinda dark #medieval au #knight!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

[peachesofteal]

read dd zombie au as a horror and zombie enthusiast and I had to say this-

what if darling was bitten but somehow "immune"?

she gets bit, symptoms come in but strangely she doesn't turn. she hungers like a zombie but the thought of hurting someone brings her back.

johnny and simon are kinda happy. you're not a zombie! yay! but the blueish bite on your shoulder says otherwise. at night, they tie your hands to your waist and bind your mouth shut, but apart from sleepy shuffling and grumbling, you don't seem to want to eat them.

the bagged mre's they try to feed you make you gag unless it's suspicious patties, so they guessed you were hungry, just not enough to try to eat them.

strongly believe that johnny treats you like a child. hand feeds you your meals that you reluctantly chew on, washes your hair and braids it ( he knows you hate waking up with tangled hair ) even brushes your teeth for you. he does this because you're too weak and tired to do it yourself ( no he doesn't. he does it because he hates seeing you like this, wishes he could cure you, but he can't. so he makes sure you eat and drink. he needs you. )

simon has seen so many people die to the virus that it feels unreal to him. he's still waiting for you to suddenly snap at him. however, watching the way you stare at him and johnny like you genuinely are there, it reassures him. he tries to talk, have conversations with you, make sure you remember. he despises having to leave you, though. he feels that if he take his eyes off you for a second you might pass or turn.

by the two week mark, you're getting better. the dark circles under your eyes are fading and the hollow dent of your cheeks is getting fuller. the mre's still make you gag, but it seems you'd rather eat those than a squirrel.

there's hope, they think. but if people find out you're immune... they'll try to take you away.

you can't leave them. they'll make sure no one takes you.

BITCH (affectionately) the way this is so fucking good. I LOVE a caretaking fic (clearly) and a protective Simon and Johnny. Love the idea of them on the run, hiding you, protecting you from those who are hunting immunes. Honestly could be an entire book. This scratches my itch so well. Love your brain.

Johnny just wants to take care of you. He knows you’re still in there, knows you’d be so distraught if you realized how filthy they’d let you become, so he takes him time leading you down to the creek by the campsite. He uses one of the t shirts they’ve been using as a washcloth to sponge you clean, humming sweetly to gentle you as you flinch against the water. Your skin is starting to turn back to its normal color now, a recent development that they both feel good about, and you’ve become more sensitive to temperature, occasionally shivering against the chilled cloth. Simon keeps watch, and you watch too, tracking Johnny’s hands with sluggish eyes and a half open mouth, tongue flicking between your teeth.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re preparing to take a bit out of him-

“Just gon’ brush yer teeth, darling.” He cradles your jaw with strong fingers and your brow furrows, confused when he pops your mouth wide, the little toothbrush you packed for yourself when you evacuated lightly scrubbing across your bottom teeth.

“Be careful, Johnny.” Simon warns, but he clucks his tongue.

“She’s alright. Cannae hurt me.” He knows you wouldn’t. You already would have, at night. Already would have turned on them, ripped their jugulars free with your teeth when they slept.

But you wouldn’t. Because you’re still in there. You’re still darling.

Once he’s done, fixed your hair so that it’s up but not weighing your scalp down, ensured it’s in place how you like, he passes you to Simon so he can make dinner.

Simon walks patrol at this time, and you go with him, listlessly walking at his side.

“D’ya remember last summer, when we all went to that carnival? You were so excited. Made Johnny and I play that bloody ring game against one another. You were so chuffed, I swear I can still hear you giggling when Johnny beat me the first time.” You moaned in response, something that didn’t sound quite like words, but more positive to negative.

Something catches his eye. A deer in the woods. A doe. Sizable. He glances from you, to it.

“Darling.” He holds your shoulder, trying to jog your gaze. “Darling, I need you to stay here.” He doesn’t want to leave you, but if he can get closer, he can get a clean shot off. You stare at him, and he sighs. “Alright.”

He makes it ten meters before the brush rustles behind him, the sight of you lumbering slowly towards where he’s crouched. You’re staring past him, watching doe with a glazed over look, and he tenses.

Once you get to his side, you look down to where he’s kneeling behind a bush, and then you start to, painfully slow, crouch beside him, fingers lightly brushing against his thigh.

You look at him, and then at the deer with a grunt. The hope that blooms in his heart is infectious, and he can’t fight it. He won’t.

Weeks later, they’re on the road when they come across a group of others.

You’ve improved, greatly, but your ability to speak never came back. You can’t talk, only point and make little noises here and there, and your fine motor skills are still struggling, (Johnny is still brushing your teeth for you, and feeding you. He doesn’t complain, they both have always loved taking care of you) and your pace is very slow, like you’re sore, and always tired. Simon is careful to go easy, not wanting to do anything to stress you or make your condition worse.

The bite mark on your neck has never gone away. It’s a scar now, rough and raised flesh like a fucking beacon on your skin. They usually keep something tied to it, but for some reason on this day, you had pulled it free, and they never noticed.

But the others did.

“Is that a bite?” One of them says, and Simon tenses, positioning himself in front of you, Johnny pulling you into his chest, protective arm across your shoulders.

“No.” Simon tells them, but they don’t buy it. One them stares at you, greed dripping from his gaze.

“Heard there were immunes out there somewhere. NHS is offering a big payday for one alive. Or dead.” He licks his lips, and Simon shakes his head.

“Trust us. Ye dinnae want to do this.” Johnny calls, but the group is already staring at you like you’re worth your weight in gold.

There’s five of them, versus Simon and Johnny, but they like the odds.

They’ve got bullets in three before you even realize what’s happening, Simon’s blade buried in the flesh of another’s neck in a flash, Johnny pressing his weight into the last one on the ground.

“He’ll tell others.” He spits over his shoulder, and Simon nods.

He will. And they can’t allow that. Can’t allow anyone to know about you.

The last thing the man sees is Johnny’s hands around his neck, and you watching half interested over his shoulder, half bored.

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco zombie au

[sky-fire-forever]

To the people who say that Ed never harmed the Kraken Crew:

I am genuinely so confused by this take. First of all: Ed is shown to be violent even if that's not directed at the Kraken Crew specifically. He threw Lucius overboard and thinks he killed him in cold blood and he tortures Izzy by mutilating him. Even IF he never physically harms Jim, Frenchie, Fang, or Ivan directly, he is still behaving violently. He is killing people and taking out his depression on both Izzy and the innocent people (ish, they're still naval officers) that they are raiding.

Even if Izzy (and Lucius, remember) are the only direct victims of his physical abuse... they are still victims of that abuse? No matter what Izzy has done, be it threaten him, verbally lashing out at him, or even abuse of his own if you interpret it that way justifies how Ed physically takes him apart and makes him EAT parts of himself. That is beyond abuse. That is both physical and mental literal torture

And remember, Lucius was entirely innocent. He was actively trying to HELP Ed and that did not stop Ed from behaving violently towards him.

If you say since we see no signs of Ed abusing the Kraken Crew, I will remind you that the way Ed led the Kraken Crew got Ivan killed. Ivan DIED due to decisions made during Ed's time as captain of The Revenge, likely due to the constant raids making them exhausted and weakening their ability to fight.

We don't know enough about Ivan's death for me to really say that for certain, so it's speculation. But if Ivan died during a raid, the responsibility still falls on Ed's shoulders. He is their captain, it is his job to protect and defend his crew and we are explicitly told that he did not bat an eye when Ivan went down. We even see Ed kill a member of his own crew during his suicide attempt. A crew member falls overboard and we see Fang reach for them. This is directly caused by Ed sailing into that storm.

He points a gun at his crewmates and they have NO IDEA if he's going to shoot him. They're clearly afraid that he might. Fang starts crying and they all tense up. Frenchie expects Ed to kill him when he finds out that he's been hiding Izzy. They are afraid of their captain, they believe he does not care about their lives and that he could kill them at any moment.

This is abuse. I genuinely do not care if it is physical towards anyone but Izzy or not, it is abuse plain and simple. Ed behaves in an abusive manner towards his crew. That abuse actively puts their lives in danger. Constantly forcing them to go on raid after raid after raid for no reward (because he makes them dump the treasure that they believe they are earning for themselves, as Frenchie flat out asks Izzy if they're receiving "their cut") and exhausting them in the process makes them more likely to be killed on the field. Fighting while exhausted and demoralized is fucking difficult!

And before anyone says that's just life aboard a pirate ship, isn't Ed supposed to be better? Isn't he supposed to be better than Hornigold? Even Ed remembers having good times on Hornigold's ship with Jack. And the Kraken Crew appear constantly exhausted and terrified, carving out their own moments of joy just like Ed had to while under Hornigold

I have seen posts claiming that Izzy fans have a disconnect between interpretation of a character and their actual actions, but the lengths I have seen (certain, not all) Ed fans go to to completely absolve Ed of his cruelest actions absolutely baffles me. Like... Ed made Fang kill his dog and that's BEFORE he became the Kraken.

Ed is a dark character. He does twisted shit. Is that not INTERESTING to you? Does it not fascinate you that a man perfectly capable of torturing his crew and driving them harder and harder and harder until some of them die fueled by his own desire to make himself irredeemable STILL at his core is a man who wants nothing more than to be loved? Do you not find it somewhat beautiful and that this man with so much blood on his hands is still told "someone will love you. You are not a monster, but a person despite your cruelty"? Do you not think the story of a man so completely consumed by all he has done realizing that he can not erase the damage of what he did isn't a good tale to tell? Do you think there is a fundamental difference between the man who tells Stede not to kill and the man who has killed for himself?

I feel like stripping him of his horror takes away so much of who he is. So much of what makes him interesting. He CHOOSES to leave Stede's crew on an island to die of exposure or starvation. He CHOOSES to basically kidnap Frenchie and Jim. He CHOOSES to hurt those closest to him in horrible ways

And he chooses to come back from that. Chooses to try to do better. To learn. To grow. To love.

I have issues with season two, but if we had more time to watch Ed come back from this, to see him make amends with the crew he so horribly damaged, I would have thought this was the best arc ever. Redemption stories are my favorite because it shows that everyone is capable of both good and evil. Ed is capable of both too. I really wish people would see his growth for what it is: a man so entrenched in violence with a nonlinear recovery that hurts people and still keeps trying anyway. Rather than someone who never hurts anyone at all

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #our flag means death meta #edward teach #izzy hands #the kraken crew #kraken crew #queue-no steel

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT MOBIUS'S HEAVY KEYS

I wrote a meta on S1 Mobius here, mostly exploring his interrogation persona and emotional trajectory toward S1E6. I also have a fun little list on all the things I love about him here.

@mitromana posted about how we should talk about Mobius's sass and even cruelty more. @wowwwmobius posted how Mobius realistically would not be doing well post-S2E6 (I wholeheartedly agree), and they and @inwantofamuse shared amazing comments. All of this inspired this meta.

Thank you @mitromana @wowwwmobius @inwantofamuse!

Mobius's interrogation scenes are him at his most cruel and ruthless. The flipside of being a highly empathetic person is that it is very VERY easy to use this skill in highly abusive, cunning, and powerful ways. This is especially true if the person armed with this skill is exceptionally intelligent and is convinced their motivations are good. At the TVA, before Loki's exposure of the truth, Mobius is both of these things. Worse, he has access to the TVA's more ethically unconscionable technology, which he does not hesitate to use.

The road to evil is paved with good intentions. Mobius strolls onto this road more than once, but he manages to not stay on it because two people curb this risk: Loki and, yes, Sylvie.

Take in Loki's words and posture in this scene. The words alone are a frail and weak comeback for a silver-tongue God of lies. They do nothing but reveal Loki is in FACT scared. His arms are crossed tightly over his abdomen, a primal protective response. He's leaned as far away from Mobius as possible. This is the best Loki can come up with in the face of a boring man in a boring suit, really?

You can see why Mobius was moved into the position of Analyst from Hunter. He may not be able to prune children, but he can literally bring a God like Loki to the ground, breathless, confused, and frightened, with nothing more than WORDS. And this is with a variant Mobius likes. Imagine what he can do to a variant he hates.

For HWR and Ravonna's purposes, Mobius is the perfect weapon to get whatever they want out of whatever variant they capture before sending them off to get pruned. How do they keep him from questioning anything?

Memory-wiping (more than once), brainwashing, propaganda, and:

A little something for Mobius's identity, something that fulfills his intrinsic need to take care of others while also gently stroking his ego.

Yes, the genocide of multiple timelines over the span of eons is horrifying. But Mobius is capable of being complicit with it as long as his environment feeds his intrinsic psychological and emotional needs. The people on the Sacred Timeline become his new children, and he will do anything ANYTHING to protect them.

There was one thing HWR and Ravonna didn't anticipate: that this man's empathy for a specific Loki would be the very thing that liberates the multiverse and his own bondage from a corrupt bureaucracy.

However...

I don't believe Mobius ever anticipated becoming emotionally compromised when he advocated on Loki's behalf. He likely genuinely believed that after centuries of studying Loki, he knew him well enough to make him useful for the TVA. But the subconscious, oh. That is a different story, and in Loki's own words, Mobius has a gift for lying to himself.

I discuss the interrogation scene and Sif loop scene in depth here, so I won't repeat myself, but I'd like to draw our attention to the 2 gifs below, framing my analysis:

Imagine where Mobius's mind must be at:

I spent centuries studying you and believing in you. I waited more centuries for your nexus event to come. I tasked every hunter to inform me of your arrival immediately, no matter what I was doing, no matter where I was. I abandoned a case. I ran to your trial. I put my job, reputation, and eons-long friendship with Ravonna on the line. I tested your theory. I brought you with me on the field. You talked to me. You challenged me. You made me proud. You made me laugh.

I gave you daggers and you stabbed me. You STABBED me. When all I wanted to give you was--

Mobius cracked hard and fast. Applaud Owen Wilson for THIS interpretation of the script and THIS delivery.

Thankfully, the very person who put Mobius in this fragile state of mind is also the person Mobius deeply wants to believe in. Even after being betrayed, Mobius still wants to believe in Loki and his capacity to be a wonderful person. And so he looks at Ravonna's TemPad, decides Loki deserves to be with whoever he wants to be with (even if that person will never be Mobius himself), frees Loki to help him save the woman he loves, and gets pruned for it.

Mobius survives thanks to plot-armor. And who is the first person he meets?

The bane of his existence.

And Sylvie wastes no time driving a knife into a very fresh wound. Mobius, however, only recently unleashed all his rage. His reservoir for compartamentalizing has refreshed, so he can take Sylvie's truth bravely, without a flinch, and acknowledge that truth with one of his own.

Mobius owns it. He doesn't deny it. He tacitly agrees with her and gives her a reason why.

We should remember how dangerous Mobius can be. He is currently sitting in a car with the variant he is most likely to hate. Sylvie is strong, clever, and resilient, but her ability to regulate her emotions is weak, especially if she is triggered. Mobius can destroy her very easily with his words.

But Mobius can't hate her. He can't. She was right and he was wrong, but most importantly Loki loves her.

He won't hurt the person Loki loves most. No. He will take her to him instead. He can stomach the pain, the disappointment. He's good at that. Loki's well-being, his happiness, comes first.

In fact, Mobius stomachs Sylvie's knife twists a second time and chooses not to defend himself. I don't doubt a large part of him agrees with her. Nevertheless, he can't help but hope Loki might stand up for him in that moment. He tries, and fails, to make light of it by rolling his eyes and turning to his friend. When Loki leaves him not explaining why, his true feelings about this interaction surfaces on his face.

Aren't you going to say anything?

The saddest thing is that this is the LAST intimate moment THIS Mobius has with Loki before Loki crosses the gangway and never returns. This is it. This is what he's left with: the thought Loki didn't care enough to defend him and Loki leaving.

HE doesn't get to hear that he's just trying to see in the dark and is doing everything he can to keep the surviving timelines alive. SYLVIE does.

HE doesn't get to hear Loki tell him he saved his life. DON does.

HE doesn't get the final goodbye and "thank you, Mobius", his PAST SELF does. And if Mobius happens to remember this moment in the present, he will know that he was the one who propelled Loki to bear this massive burden ALONE.

My worry for Mobius post-S2E6 is that he is more than talented at ignoring his own needs and addressing his own problems. He is infinitely better--a master, even--at taking care of anyone else. It's a devastating flaw, but it comes from a very raw place:

His heart, his soul, will always remember being a single parent.

Being a parent at all is hard to begin with. There are only so many hours in a day, and the majority of it is devoted to putting someone else's needs before your own. Being a single parent is even harder. You might have a few people to help you, but ultimately, there's no partner to share every high and low intimately. To be a single parent of not one but TWO children?

Game over.

Some viewers have interpreted Don ignoring his sons' phone calls at work as negligent. Honestly, I don't think that's the case. He will call them back. Don is Mobius and Mobius is Don. He will take care of them. But refusing every beck and call at work is the only personal boundary he has. He cannot have many boundaries for himself at home or anywhere else. He has to decline not one but two calls for his own sanity. Nevermind that he works Monday through Saturday, nine to five, to make enough money to keep them healthy and happy. Where is the break? There is none. This is Don's glorious purpose.

Mobius leaving the TVA is understandable for two crucial reasons: One, it is a reminder of all his horrifying acts and complicity. Two, it is a reminder Loki is no longer there. But by leaving the TVA, Mobius separates himself from his only support system. That's not good. That is decidely unhealthy. The fact that it doesn't cross B-15, Casey, or OB's minds that this is a very bad idea tells you everything you need to know about the number of genuinely close friends Mobius has.

Mobius has two. He walked away from one to be with the second, and the second walked away from him, too. TWICE.

But he still loves him anyway.

When you take a man like this and take away everything that's kept him functional: the TVA, Ravonna, Loki, and then show him a content life in which he cannot even be with his own children because another version of him already exists, what do you think will happen to him given we've seen how violently Mobius can snap?

And guess what: only one person has ever seen Mobius snap on more than one occasion. Only one person understands the triggers and how to handle them. I'll give you three guesses as to who it is.

Mobius "has a happy ending" is absolute bullshit. He is at risk.

#loki #mobius #lokius #loki series #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #loki meta #sylvie #my meta

[vigilskeep]

I'm curious what you don't like about dao Leliana? If you've got any posts about it could you please point me in their direction?

i probably have posts somewhere but god knows where they are now. i will present a little overview

and to be clear, because i know this website, this is completely a matter of personal taste in writing and character, i am not, um, cancelling leliana dragonage or having anything but appreciation for those who like her, i am saying i probably wouldn’t want to hang out with her. i am also not attempting to convince anyone or justify anything, i am explaining my own feelings since i have been asked about them. i am going to use language that sounds a little overly harsh because i am trying to express those feelings succinctly without making this post very long by apologising and minimising with caveats about when i do like her

i find her a little grating. i find her characterisation based on her backstory irritatingly inconsistent, with genuinely confusing naivete for someone with a supposedly hardened backstory. she’s a literal bard, and she’s always always on the back foot in dialogue with quicker thinkers who can easily shock and scandalise her, and she believes horrors are too ugly for anyone to write about (literal bard!). i’m also vaguely baffled by the amalgamation of vibes they went for visually, like, idk for example, repeatedly mentioning the supposedly ragged boyish hair of someone incapable of understanding a lack of interest in high fashion and who expresses friendship by talking about nice shoes and hair specifically. it makes me struggle to buy into her as a character, and i find her hard to picture.

i think her compassion for others rings fairly false, possibly just on a poor voice acting level; if they wanted me to believe in it from listening to her dialogue when she chimes in during side quests, they got it wrong, i don’t. those bland comments, as cloying on the tongue as artificial sweetener instead of real sugar, are a let-down when i could have someone more entertaining in the party. i hear her talk and think: i wish i’d brought someone else. and her kindness is often shallow, buying into prejudice easily when left unchecked. which is again, weird for a character whose entire concept is being more worldly than she appears. part of that backstory is also definitely growing up mostly surrounded by elven servants, which makes those biases in that direction even more notable to me than they otherwise would be. she’s someone who’s absorbed in her own internal struggle yet who has never noticed the struggles of those around her until directly confronted. i am constantly disappointed by the missed opportunities with her character, like her mixed cultural identity barely being discussed in a game where the backdrop of the ferelden-orlais conflict being under-explored is to me one of really very few big storytelling mistakes, or like her mechanic where you can ask her about wherever you are—a really fun idea, for a bard!—and she literally never not once has anything interesting to say. like, come onnn. im the worldbuilding enjoyer. hit me with something

some of this is going to be affected also by me having spent the most time with her as my surana, who happens as a character to be a natural born hater, and also predisposed to share some of these feelings. i do find dao leliana much more fun to hang out with when playing a non-elven, non-mage character, but given the in-world context, that in itself is perhaps not a glowing recommendation? (obligatory note again, i am not up in arms that this fictional character has fictional prejudices against fictional people and i in fact think this part is good writing that suits the world. the version of her i adore is, after all, in dai when she has done significantly more wrongs including against elves and mages specifically.) it’s more that kindness should be what leliana has going for her as one of the most prominently good-aligned companions, and i don’t believe in hers. if i’m committing to this being me disliking the character rather than disliking some writing flaw, i could say that i read her compassion as a performance, and that’s something i happen to never really like in a person or character: when they act because they want to look like a good person, and feel like a good person, rather than because they truly care about the impact of their actions. maybe i don’t prefer her in dai because she’s somehow better written; maybe she just drops that mask i don’t care for. hard to say!

also her personal quest has some of the worst writing and acting in the game i never want to hear marjolaine again. please.

#and now for a childish addition: also i cant believe i get leliana and maric gets katriel. i shouldve had katriel #i wouldve treated her right. #leliana enjoyers please dont hate me for this i love your work. i love that you love your girl shes just not for me #top ten posts i am going to regret in the morning. hits that post button

[transmascutena]

something i find a little bit funny but mostly just really tragic is that utena is fully convinced she's in a found family show for so much of it. and in the most fucked up way imaginable she's kind of right? we all know what being akio's family means.

i do think she sees akio as an older brother figure for a lot of the show, much more so than she ever has genuine romantic feelings for him. this is clearest to me in the black rose arc, where all he is to her is her best friend's older brother who gives her advice and respects her more than any other adult ever does. it makes sense that she'd want to see herself as a part of their family too. there's nothing to imply that her feelings are at all romantic in nature. it's only when he starts getting closer to her and intiating physical contact that she starts blushing around him and might be developing a crush -- although personally, i read it more as confused uncomfortable embarrassment most of the time, combined with the expectation that romance is what she should want, and so that must be what she's feeling, right? (this gets kind of naively reenforced by wakaba telling her how cool and handsome akio is and how lucky utena is to be close to him.)

and i don't think it's a coincidence that akio starts calling utena "part of the family" after he's planted this idea of romance in her. reenforcing her previous feelings towards him only after he has started to make them change into something different. he is deliberately trying to cofuse her idea of a familial/sibling relationship with that of a romantic/sexual one, because to him there really isn't a difference, and so that when she inevitably learns about him and anthy, utena will see her not as a fellow victim to find solidarity in, but as competition for his affection. and it works, at least at first.

all this is why i vehemently disagree when people call utena stupid for not noticing that something is wrong about anthy and akio's relationship while she's living with them. not only is it deliberately being hidden from her by both of them for a long time, she also literally has no idea what a sibling relationship is supposed to look like. she has no healthy example to compare anything to. even if she did notice something off about how anthy and akio interact, why would she assume she knows better than them how to be a family? she doesn't have one, after all. and when akio tells her that she is his family, he very much does not treat her like it, but she doesn't really have much choice in believing that it's normal, because isn't that how he treats anthy as well?

#this started as kindof a jokey post but surprise surprise i have a lot of thoughts on how ohtori corrupts the concept of family #and any kind of love that doesn't fit into the idea of romance and (hetero)sexuality #i don't even know if this is coherent or makes sense it's really late i'm going to bed #revolutionary girl utena #analysis #utena #akio #m #akio and utena #all girls are like the rose bride

[adiralovespercyjackson]

Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Percy Jackson x gn!reader

Summary: Percy is dating Annabeth (love percabeth). But reader is swept away by Percy and can't help their feelings. Eventually, they talk and start dating. Everyone is suddenly distant to reader bc they ruined the best ship. Reader is insecure but Percy would gladly spend all his life reassuring them.

Fluff 💙💙🪼🌊🔱⚜️

On the radio~

🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼

(1st person)

There goes Percabeth, I thought bitterly. I have always had a crush on percy, but Annabeth got to him first. I didn't have anything against Annabeth, I just thought it was unfair. Unfair because I lost. "Y/n!" I had most the whole world tuned out as I read my book, sitting at a random bench near the lake, the sun hiting bare shoulders since I was just wearing a bikini, trying to tan. "Y/n!" oh. They're talking to me. Great. I looked up to see Percy's toned figure and sea-green eyes staring back at me with a bright smile. "Oh. Hey, Perce," I put on a fake smile as I speak. "Sorry, I tuned you out!" "No worries! Happens to the best of us, " he said, smiling. "What's up?" I could've sworn he had checked me out, but I wasn't so sure. "Oh yknow, trying to get a tan, reading, the usual." I said. "Oh, alright. Have fun!" he said, about to leave. "Wait! Perce!" I said, Calling out to him before could leave. Percy didn't say anything, he just waited for me to speak. "I... I know that you are dating Anna, an you guys are best best couple I've ever seen, but- but I like you..." I looked up Percy to see him staring at me in shock. "W-well...Im not dating Annabeth anymore..." he said. "Wait wha-" I was shocked at the least. "We decided to stick as friends because she is going through a sexuality crisis," he seemed calm but almost nervous and jittery at the same time. "I like you too, Y/n. Maybe we can date?..." he looked at me hopefully. "Of course!" she said, wanting to scream in joy.

(3rd person)

Fast forward to a couple months later. They decide to go public with their relationship and now a majority of her friends we're way more distant. Her stuff is often vandalized with words like 'slut!' and 'homewrecker'. People often spread rumours about her when she wasn't listening— when they thought she wasnt listening. He never voiced this to Percy, for multiple reasons. One, what if they're right? Is she a slut and a homewrecker? Would Percy stop loving her if he saw a different perspective? Two, what if he didn't care or didn't believe her? What would she do then? She also has always feel insecure about her body and just herself in general. Would Percy not like her if she wasn't confident? She needs to stop being an ugly coward. The two of them were actually on a date right now, and they were sitting on the beach. "Baby, what's wrong?" Percy asked, clearly concerned for his beautiful girlfriend. "Oh. Nothing..." she said, putting on a heavily fake smile. "Y/n L/n, my love, my girl, darling. Please don't lie to me." he said. He might have the nickname 'seaweed brain', but he wasn't an idiot. "I'm sorry for ruining it." she started sniffling. "For what?" Percy was genuinely confused, his beloved, beautiful, girlfriend couldn't possibly do any wrong. "Ruining your relationship." she was sobbing into his chest, the sea-salty scent blanketing her in a comforting warmth. "Baby.... No..... You didn't do anything." he lifted her chin with his index finger. "We broke up before you confessed, remember?" "oh...." she said, feeling stupider than usual. "Am I a slut?..." she asked. Percy's eyes widened and he tackled her into a hug, spooning her while laying in the sand. "Who told you that?" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming protective and menacing. "E-everyone..." she said quietly. "Everyone spreads rumours about me and calls me name. In front of me and behind my back. They say that I ruined you and Annabeths relationship." she sighed into his arm. "I'm ugly and not confident. Why do you like me?" Percy audibly gasped at this, his precious is none of those things. "You aren't any of these things. You may act and look different than others, but no one looks the exact same. You are gorgeous, if not in your eyes, in mine. I chose to date you for a reason." he hugged her tighter in a slightly possessive way. "Mine." he said, his voice muffled since his face was burried in her neck.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo fanfic

[pigeon-toes]

People really don't seem to read, so here's a small collection of the ways Arlecchino helped Freminet after she took over the House of the Hearth.

She taught him to value his life after the previous director taught otherwise, she paired him with Lyney and Lynette because if how isolated he was, and told him the truth about the reason his mother left him with the Hearth after the previous director had lied and said she abandoned him.

About "Father": Teaching

"When I was little, I was taught that we should be ready to give our lives for our family. But when "Father" took control, this philosophy changed. "Father" said that every one of us is important, and we have to value our own lives, be our strongest selves, and stand on our own two feet in this workd... But actually, all that's much harder than following orders."

More About Freminet: IV

"I don't like thinking about my time in the House of the Hearth under the previous director. All I'll say is... My habit of retreating into the sea started back then. "Father" changed not only me, but my view of our family, too. Then Lyney and Lynette joined the family... and for the first time ever, I gained some genuine companions.

Character Story 5

After "Father" replaced the previous director, Freminet's thoughts began to turn to finding his mother once again.

At first, Freminet assumed that she would rile up a still greater storm of brutality, for he knew that her methods were brutal, and he expected new orders to be given just as pitilessly as they had been in the past. But he soon discovered that "Father"'s way of doing things was utterly different.

With "Father," the home was a place of refuge for all the family's children, and as such required a collective effort to maintain. It was up to each of them to complete their tasks in the way that best suited them. Even if they failed, they wouldn't be subjected to the searingly painful punishments they had been previously.

She also gave him a pendant that belonged to his mother later in the same character story.

"I found this at the base operations of those scum. Keep it," said "Father."

Freminet looked back at her, perplexed, which in turn seemed to confuse her.

"What it is? I'm talking about those usurious scoundrels. It belonged to your mother..." She frowned, suddenly seeming to realize something.

"What were you told about her?"

Freminet told her what the previous director had said to him, about how he had been abandoned. As he did so, she said nothing, but her eyes began to burn with wrath.

After Freminet was finished, Father fell silent for a rare moment. "Do you want to know what really happened?" She asked, fixing him with a piercing stare.

Freminet nodded almost unconsciously. But once he had heard what she had to say, he wasn't sure which story he'd rather believe.

"Father" told Freminet that his mother hadn't abandoned him, but on the contrary, had acted to protect him...

That year, the debt that his family owed finally reached the point where they would no longer be able to repay it. Those greedy moneylenders had not only forced Freminet's mother to hand over the house that they lived in, but had also demanded that she hand over Freminet as well. But she was his mother — how could she let this happen? In the end, she had no choice but to entrust Freminet to "that orphanage" — somewhere they could never get at him — and then face them alone.

"This was all I found. As for your mother..." As she looked at the young boy in front of her, still gripping the pendant tightly in his hands, "Father" trailed off and left the ensuing silence to speak for her.

Freminet's head hung low, but knowing his personality, Father slipped out of the room without another word.

It's strange to me that people entirely demonize her soley for his voiceline about crying, when that's the only bad thing he has to say about her. Every other voiceline and character story he has regarding her details how she improved his quality of life after the previous director's abuse and made the house of the hearth actually feel like a family and home.

#arlecchino #freminet #house of the hearth #genshin impact #pidgey rambles

[mintaikcorpse]

Moments I think Blitzø realized his feelings for Stolas

I really don't think that Blitzø had an "Oh" moment. I think it was over a period of time, where he slowly realizes it, and then it comes unleashing out in either The Full Moon or Apology Tour.

Anyways, here

Seeing Stars (S2, ep2)

This was Blitzø's reaction when he saw Stolas's human form for the first time. God, I love his subtle expressions here sm. Read this post, they explain it well, and it's also the post that made me want to make this post.

In the first pic, Blitzø looks surprised and confused, probably from the shock of seeing Stolas's human form for the first time. Probably didn't even consider he ever had one, lol

The second image, we see a small blush appear, and as @ifwebefriends said, it's the "I'm fucked" face, as he is filled with complicated emotions as he realizes he likes Stolas in every form. He looks really worried by this.

The third image, hid pupils are fully dilated. Instead of confused, he looks genuinely worried and vulnerable. His expression doesn't show lust, but more like a mix of someone who is nervous to be around someone they like and genuine fear. He is realizing that it isn't just lust, but that he genuinely likes Stolas, and that's scary to him.

In the fourth image, he quickly turns around, slightly hunched over and rubbing his hands together; both behaviors indicating nervousness, probably at his own emotions. He also asks Stolas if he can somehow give them human disguises, which yes, is relevant to what's going on, but it can also be him being like, "maybe I'm just interested in the human disguise," so he can believe that instead of dealing with his own emotions.

(Also, have this gif of Blitzø checking Stolas out in his human disguise)

Then that scene in Seeing Stars that, when I joined the fandom, was the first thing I saw fans losing their shit over

Nothing much to comment on here. He's actually smiling at Stolas's advances. The other times Stolas flirted with him, it's always been overly aggressive ("jelly sandwiches all night~"), and this time, it's more subtle and intimate, which clearly worked for Blitzø.

Oops (S2, ep6)

In this moment, Fizz hit Blitzø with the allegations, and this was Blitzø's reaction to it. Look at his expressions! The first image looks confused and scared and heart broken, like he knew he fell, but he's either in denial, ignoring it, or doesn't think it's reciprocated; perhaps even all 3.

The second image, he looks sad, angry, and confused, like he doesn't know his emotions and can't name them, but he's hurt. He's frustrated at how complicated things are, and he hates it.

The 3rd image is now just full denial. When lying, people often look to the side or avoid eye contact, which is exactly Blitzø is doing right here. He knows that its more than sex every month, but he's lying to himself, because he can't get hurt if it is just casual.

Alright, imma have to do a part 2 to this cuz I ran out of space. I'll try to go in episode order next time lol, I just go excited with these 2 lol

Part 2

#blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss blitz #blitz helluva boss #helluva boss blitzo #blitzo helluva boss #helluva boss blitzø #blitzø helluva boss #helluva boss #stolas #stolas goetia #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #stolas helluva boss