#so like. when the people who are supposed to love you...don't.

[ihadlife]

poly task force 141 and their service animal irish wolfhound hybrid!reader

tags: 18+, dubcon (because of reader being a hybrid), poly relationship, fem!reader, hybrid!reader, tall reader, unprotected sex, oral sex, impact play, praise kink, dom/sub, rough sex, semi public sex, implied threesome, let me know if i forgot something else

price who sees that his lads are too stressed and it's negatively affecting their job performance so he decides it's time to get a service animal. that's where you come to the scene – an irish wolfhound hybrid that's supposed to keep the boys' tension at bay and make them happy. with your almost imposing height, sturdy bones, and gentle and affectionate nature, you're the perfect addition to the team. being taller than soap and gaz, people around the base who don't know you find you intimidating and leave you alone, but behind closed doors, your tail wags quicker than a lap dog's. 

soap is the first one to take a liking to you. having a puppy dog personality himself, it's very easy to connect with him rather quickly. he's also very handsy with you right from the start – scratching your scalp, gently massaging your floppy ears, rubbing your belly. he never reprimands you for licking all over his face in your excitement, on the other hand, he welcomes it. he also loves to play fight with you, testing your strength and not being afraid of tossing you around since he doesn't have to be scared of hurting you due to your size. he's also the first to have sex with you. figured it would be him to step over the notional line. it starts with you two play fighting as you usually do; you roll over and manage to get on top of soap, pinning his hands to the floor. except you're not stronger than the professionally trained soldier so, in a few seconds, his hands are on your hips and helping you grind against him, having popped a boner during your play fight like a damn teenager. it's like this most of the time afterwards – you on top, riding soap while he tells you what a good job you're doing, how well–behaved you are. he's a bit selfish with it but he makes you feel good too, so you can't complain. 

gaz is so sweet to you. he's by far the sweetest in the group, praising you for every little thing you do. wagging your fluffy tail when you see him? licking his palm as he pets you? just sitting on the couch in the rec room, watching the tv and looking cute? he's immediately on you, petting you everywhere he can reach and complimenting you endlessly. he is the second one to get to know you intimately. hearing soap boasting about your sexual escapades, he slowly gets bolder with his touches. he starts gently tugging on your ears while petting them as if to gauge your reaction. his fingers tease your lower abdomen while giving you belly rubs, drifting lower and lower, just barely touching around your heat. it feels like an eternity to you before he finally fucks you but it's so so worth it. gaz is the most doting owner you've ever had, spoiling you beyond belief and making sure that everything he does makes you feel good. this in turn makes you so eager to please him, to reciprocate, to return the favours. sometimes he lets you, watching you as you happily slobber all over his dick and lick and suck on his balls, nuzzling your face as close as you can to his groin. and sometimes he doesn't let you and instead focuses all his energy on you, making you feel like you're on a cloud nine. 

ghost is the hardest nut to crack. you learn pretty quickly that the soldier doesn't like you eager and sweet like the rest of the team does, instead, he finds that behaviour of yours annoying. you adjust accordingly, giving him his much-needed space and always approaching carefully and calmly. if ghost can't handle your excitement, then you'll tone it down. you'll do anything to make your new owners happy. sometimes you have to sit on your own tail to physically stop it from wagging happily when he lets you sit closer to him and then eventually even rest your head on his lap. it takes time but you and ghost find your way to each other and it becomes almost second nature to you to calmly come to him when he's relaxing or lounging around, sit on his lap and cuddle with him. despite your best efforts, ghost never bites the bait and never fucks you. he never even touches you properly, even though you're sitting on his lap, thighs spread over his own, whining and trying to get any kind of friction. he can be pretty mean to you too – when you get too whiny or squirm around too much, he'll slap your puffy pussy to make you behave. there's no real force behind those little slaps but they shock you every time nonetheless. 

it's price who you then come to afterwards, all teary-eyed and miserable, a proper crybaby. as you understand it, price is the pack leader and he's your favourite out of all your owners – he was the one who chose you for his family and the one who looks after you the most. he's not as playful as soap, nor as doting as gaz, nor as serene as ghost, but there's something about him that makes you trust him the most. you know that he's fair and that he will look after you no matter what. which is why you come to him regularly after your cuddle sessions with ghost, all pent up and frustrated, silently complaining to him and waiting for him to do something about it. what he does most often is he sits you on his lap, your back against his chest and your legs spread over his thighs as he plays with your sloppy pussy and pushes his fingers in and out of you in a languid rhythm. he asks you questions in the meantime and makes you answer them. 'What exactly did Ghost do that got you into such a state?' and 'What about Soap, did you have fun last night? Tell me exactly what you did.' and 'You should pay a visit to Gaz after I'm done with you. You will, won't you? You will be a good puppy for me, right?' you nod your head and try to answer as well as you can but it's hard when his fingers pick up speed and are pushing against the spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll into your head. he only ever fucks you after making you cum on his fingers or on his tongue. and when he does, it's rough. it's rough because he knows you can take it. and you love it. he oftentimes presses his forehead against yours, or holds your hand during it, still praising you for being such a good puppy for him, keeping his task force happy. and you're so happy you have tears in your eyes as the force of his thrusts jolts you up and down on his office table. he doesn't stop even when there's a knock at his doors, when one of his pack members walks into the office, the question they had dying on their lips as they watch you getting fucked out of your mind. he even invites them to join the two of you after he fills you with the first load of his hot, sticky cum.  

#tw hybrids #tw dubcon #hybrid!au #hybrid!reader #puppy hybrid reader #task force 141 #task force 141 smut #captain john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #price cod #cod price #price x reader #cod soap #soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #cod hybrid au

[lancermylove]

True Love's Kiss (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: All x fem!Reader, minus Ortho

Warning: None

Requested by: @cartoonykat

Prompt: Hi, I love your work, I read almost every one of your fics/hcs, especially Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me. I read on your post that requests are open, so I was wondering if you could do Twisted Wonderland Boys (minus Ortho) x Reader, where Reader and the Adeuce duo were in potions class, due to shenanigans happening, it causes Reader to fall into a Sleeping Beauty spell, where she's asleep, and the only cure is True love's kiss?

A/N: Thank you! 🥰

———————————————

Prologue:

"W-Will she be okay?" Deuce nervously asked as he watched Crewel examining you. On the other hand, Ace had a serious expression and remained silent. The remainder of the students in class remained in a corner, and while some were glaring at Adeuce for their shenanigans, the others watched the professor.

After what felt like an eternity, Crewel sighed, "How did you puppies manage to concatenate such a potion? Regardless, there is a cure that should awaken the Sleeping Beauty."

"Sleeping...Beauty...?" Ace repeated the professor's words before his eyes widened. "You don't mean...a true love's kiss?"

A slight smirk tugged on Crewel's lips. "So it seems you have intelligence, yet you choose to waste it. Yes, the only way to wake (y/n) is for her true love to kiss her."

-----

Leona

Leona was far from happy when he heard what had happened to you. The moment he stepped into the class, he growled at Adeuce, causing the duo to back into a corner.

However, the prince was far more concerned about your well-being. Setting aside his anger, Leona stepped closer to you. As he leaned down, there was a softness in his eyes.

He didn't care who was watching and what they would think; all Leona wanted was to know that you were all right from your own mouth.

The prince pressed a light kiss to your lips before pulling away and intensely studying your face. When your eyebrows furrowed, Leona quietly sighed in relief and helped you sit up.

Even before you could ask what happened, the lion spun on his heels and growled at the duo again. Leona pounded his fist against his left hand as he glared fiercely at Ace and Deuce.

They were not getting out of this situation without learning an unforgettable lesson. Moreover, Crewel didn't do anything to stop Leona and watched in amusement.

Ruggie

Ruggie rushed into the room and didn't even bother to look at Adeuce. His ears slightly lowered as his eyes focused on you. You were going to be okay, right?

The hyena didn't waste any time and immediately kissed you, but he chose to plant a playful kiss on your cheek. It wasn't like Crewel, or anyone said that he had to kiss you in a particular place.

Knowing that there were students watching, Ruggie wanted to be respectful to you. When you stirred, he sighed and gave you a quick hug.

While Crewel explained what happened to you, Ruggie threw glares at the duo. He wasn't going to do anything to them at the moment, but the hyena would get them back when they least expected it.

Jack

Jack flung the door open to the room so hard that he nearly ripped the door from the hinges. That was enough to have Ace and Deuce shaking.

When Crewel informs him that he needs to kiss you to wake you up, Jack's cheeks turn red. There were so many people present, so how was he supposed to kiss you openly? Besides, he didn't ask for your permission, so was it really okay?

The wolf knew he didn't have any other choice, so he leaned down and pecked your lips.

After you woke up, Jack lightly patted your head. After Crewel explained what happened, he turned to the wolf and smirked. "Ah, did I forget to mention that it wasn't necessary to kiss her on the lips?"

Jack's face turned redder than before as he averted his eyes from Crewel. While he was embarrassed, Jack was far angrier at Ace and Deuce for always causing trouble for you.

Malleus

As soon as Crewel confirmed your true love had to kiss you, Adeuce knew who was coming and immediately hid under a table. The last thing they wanted was to face Malleus's wrath.

The dragon quietly walked into the classroom, his eyes solely focused on you. How dare someone put you in this condition! Even though Malleus's expression was blank, everyone in the classroom could feel his anger radiating through the area. It had most of them quaking in their shoes. Even Crewel seemed uneasy.

Without wasting time, Malleus brushed your hair from your face and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. While you stirred from your slumber, his hand continued to rest on your head as if to provide comfort.

Once you were fully awake, the prince scooped you in his arms and wordlessly walked out of the classroom.

Meanwhile, Lilia leaned against the doorframe. He was there to ensure that Malleus wouldn't lose control of his temper. The ex-war general looked toward the desk where Adeuce hid and whispered the words. "The two of you pushed your limits this time around. You better be careful."

Lilia

Even though Lilia was worried, he still maintained a calm demeanor as he walked into the classroom. He didn't need Crewel to tell him what he had to do to wake you up.

He took a moment to study you and found it amusing that he was part of a real-life Sleeping Beauty tale. Lilia had always assumed that Malleus would play the prince for obvious reasons.

Wordlessly, he walked up to you and playfully pecked your lips. Lilia made sure to keep his face close so when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was his teasing smile.

"If you wanted a kiss, you should have asked directly," he whispered with a chuckle.

Once you had sat up, Lilia glanced at Adeuce. Though he didn't say anything, a smile tugged on his lips. However, the smile didn't reach Lilia's lips, and his gaze made a chill run down the duo's backs. They were in deep waters and knew it.

Silver

Silver almost felt like he was in a dream when he walked into the classroom and saw you lying on a wooden table. All that was missing was a rose in your hand.

Even though he wasn't keen on kissing you in front of so many students, mainly due to his worries about them teasing you, Silver stepped forward out of a sense of duty and care.

At that moment, he was your knight in shining armor and took your hand before bowing his head and placing a loving kiss on the back of it. The scene was so beautiful that it even moved Crewel.

Once you woke up, the professor explained what Ace and Deuce had done. Normally, you would have been mad, but seeing that Silver was still holding onto your hand, you couldn't be angry.

Well, for now. Later, you planned to get them back for it and then give them a hug. If it wasn't for them, Silver would not have kissed you. Although, somewhere deep down, you wished he had kissed your lips.

Sebek

While he wasn't happy about what happened to you, Sebek didn't want to kiss you in public. He had an image to maintain - one of a dedicated and fearsome guard - and kissing you would give him the label of a softy. Something he didn't want.

Malleus had to eventually push him, and since the orders came directly from the prince, Sebek couldn't say no.

He slowly walked into the classroom, trying to keep his fearsome aura. But the closer he got to you, the more worried Sebek became.

Despite feeling awkward, Sebek got down on one knee, took your hand, and placed a quick kiss on it. But once you stirred, Sebek quickly released your hand, stood up, and stepped back.

He didn't even wait for you to fully wake up and exited the room. Sebek felt too embarrassed to face you.

That entire day, Lilia teased him about being such a shy softy, much to Sebek's dismay.

Azul

He wasn't surprised to hear that Adeuce had caused another issue. The duo was notorious for their shenanigans, and he had experienced it firsthand. A part of him wished that he could keep the anemones on their head until they graduated.

However, Azul wasn't happy that they had directly caused such a strong effect on you. He was relieved that Crewel was there to overlook the situation and figure out a cure.

The octopus didn't waste time and hurriedly walked into the classroom, ready to help you in any way, until he heard that he had to give you a kiss.

Azul wasn't expecting that and decided to approach this like a business transaction. However, as he lowered his lips closer to your face, a small voice echoed in the back of his head: what if he wasn't your true love?

His heart raced out of control as he pecked your cheek quick and stood up straight, clearing his throat. Azul's eyes were fixed on your face, waiting for the verdict to his question. But when you were opened, he was relieved and smiled warmly.

The next moment, he looked at Adeuce with a chilling gaze to let them know they were going to pay for this later.

Jade

Jade didn't react when he heard the news about what happened to you. Floyd was with him and accompanied his twin to your classroom.

Seeing both eels, Adeuce exchanged a look and gulped loudly. They hoped that no one told the twins that they were responsible for what happened to you.

Without hesitation, Jade leaned down to kiss your lips but kept it short as he knew others were watching him. Neither eel moved until you stirred and slowly opened your eyes.

Jade helped you sit up and asked if you were all right. Meanwhile, Floyd turned his head to Adeuce and gave him a cold, toothy grin. As Jade helped you to your feet, Ace and Deuce ran out of the classroom with Floyd chasing after them.

Floyd

Floyd casually strolled into your classroom and studied you expressionlessly. Seeing the lack of expression on his face, the students and Crewel were tense.

Much to their relief, Floyd walked up to you and swiftly kissed you. He didn't pull his lips away until you had fully opened your eyes and saw him kissing you.

Once he pulled away and helped you sit up, the eel turned his head to Adeuce slowly. Like a creepy doll in a horror movie, Floyd's head very slowly turned to the duo.

When he met their gazes, his lips parted and twisted into a deadly smile. The duo knew what was coming their way, and they ran behind Crewel for protection.

However, the professor stepped out of the way. "You deserve this." From his voice, it seemed like Crewel was enjoying the sight of Adeuce trembling.

By the time Floyd was done with them, the duo felt like someone had squeezed their organs out of them.

Idia

His anxiety level rockets to the sky. Not only were you in trouble, but he had to come to a classroom filled with people. The horrors! Thankfully, Ortho was supportive, and Idia managed to walk into the classroom, albeit trembling.

Seeing you on the wooden table, his anxiety increased more; however, just when he thought things couldn't get worse, Crewel told him about the true love's kiss. Idia felt the entire world spinning. He would have to kiss you in front of everyone? What had he done to deserve such a crewel cruel fate?

Ortho monitored his brother's biometrics and could tell Idia would not be able to keep it together any longer. So, he went out of his way and bumped into Idia on purpose.

His push was so perfectly calculated that Idia lost his balance and ended up with his lips on yours. Realizing what he was doing, Idia squealed and stood up straight, nearly fainting.

Meanwhile, Crewel stood in the back and sighed. Just when one person woke up, another fainted. This would be a long day for him, especially with Crowley wanting an explanation for everything.

Kalim

As soon as Kalim heard about your condition, he dropped everything and ran to your classroom, knocking over a few students on the way.

He rushed into the room without paying attention to his surroundings. Kalim's widened eyes were on you and you only. Before Crewel could warn him about the flasks on the ground, Kalim stepped on one and lost his balance.

The next thing he knew, his lips were firmly pressed against yours. When you opened your eyes, Kalim was half on top of you with a WIDE grin. He was relieved to see you and didn't realize the position the two of you were in.

Sighing, Crewel pulled Kalim away from you after seeing the shocked expressions on the other students' faces. Even then, Kalim threw his arms around you and hugged you tightly, happy that you were okay.

Jamil

Jamil was far from happy when he heard what Ace and Deuce did. Sometimes, he wanted to label them as Kalim 2 and Kalim 3, but at least Kalim got into trouble out of his clumsiness and innocence. Meanwhile, Ace got into trouble on purpose, and Deuce's anger got the better of him.

He rushed into the classroom and asked Crewel about your condition. A kiss? While Jamil was relieved that you would be fine in no time, he felt a bit awkward to kiss you with so many eyes on him.

Sighing heavily, he glared at Adeuce before making his way to you. Leaning in, he pressed his lips on yours but didn't let the kiss last long.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you saw a deep crimson on Jamil's cheek and wondered what happened.

While Jamil didn't plan to get the duo back immediately, he knew what he would do to make them pay. Ace was going to get it during Basketball Club practice, and Deuce would get it when he least expected it.

Vil

With a huff, he gracefully walked into the classroom with Rook following him. Vil glared at Aduece as he made his way to the table you lay on.

He had the urge to lecture Crewel for not keeping the disaster duo in check, but he wanted to wake you up first. With one hand across his abdomen, Vil bowed and softly kissed your lips.

Gasps could be heard from the students as the scene looked like something straight out of a movie. Rook wanted to poetically express the beauty of the scene but knew Vil was already upset and didn't want to make him angry.

Once you opened your eyes, Vil straightened his posture and snapped his head to Adeuce. Glaring daggers at them, he towered over the two and warned them to stop causing you trouble.

Vil didn't ask Crewel for permission and took you along with him. Meanwhile, Adeuce were on the ground on their butts, still looking up at where Vil once stood. They were sweating profusely.

Rook

Rook burst into the room, scaring most of the students and startling Crewel. He immediately broke into tragic poetry in a loud voice, further startling everyone.

Once Rook finished, Crewel informed him about the true love's kiss, and the hunter once again broke into poetry. Knowing this would not end soon, the professor sat in a chair, one leg crossed over the other while massaging his temple with his right hand.

Eventually...Rook bowed and took your hand before giving it a long kiss. Even when you opened your eyes, you saw Rook kissing the back of your hand repeatedly while speaking in French.

The duo thought they had escaped Rook, but a few moments after the hunter left the classroom, two arrows flew in. Both arrows held a note and were close to Adeuces' faces. One inch closer, and the tip would have gone through their noses.

The letters with the arrows had a threat, warning them to watch their back at every moment.

Epel

Epel hurried into the classroom in a panic, thinking you were in a coma. When Rook informed him about your condition, Epel's mind froze at "eternally asleep" and didn't hear anything else.

Seeing Epel's panic, Crewel attempted to calm him down and explained what he needed to do. But that made Epel half panic and half embarrassed. What would his grandmother say if she learned he kissed you in front of so many people?

Out of habit, Ace began to tease Epel, which made him snap. "It's all chur fault! Few hadn't...um...I mean..."

Epel became quiet and turned his attention to you. Taking a deep breath, he leaned down and kissed your cheek quickly. A part of him wished he didn't have to kiss your lips. Luckily for him, you woke up.

Epel was the only one who didn't get mad at Adeuce or try to get back at them in any way.

Riddle

Riddle flung the door and sent it flying against the wall behind it, leaving a crack in the drywall. His face was bright red, and while he was worried about you, Riddle was far angrier at Adeuce.

Not only did they cause you trouble, but they also shamed Heartslabyul. The next moment, the words "OFF. WITH. YOUR. HEAD." echoed through the classroom. Adeuce sighed heavily but didn't protest as they knew they deserved it.

When Crewel told Riddle what he had to do to wake you up, the house warden's anger melted into embarrassment. However, he was determined to wake you up.

Putting aside his shyness, Riddle sighed and kissed you on the forehead. He held his breath until you opened your eyes and sat up.

For the time being, Riddle let Ace and Deuce get away with only the magic-uppressing collar. But later, he planned to punish them even more.

Trey

Trey calmly walked in, not surprised that Adeuce had caused more trouble. He didn't get mad at the duo right away and focused on waking you up.

Even when Crewel told him that he needed to kiss you, Trey didn't hesitate and gently kissed your lips. Once you woke up, he helped you to your feet and tussled your hair a little.

Seeing Trey this calm, Adeuce thought they were not in trouble and were relieved. However, later that day, Trey worked them to the bones in the kitchen, all the while watching them struggle with a smile on his lips.

Cater

Though he was calm on the outside, Cater was panicking internally. He quickly rushed into the classroom, and when he saw you sleeping peacefully on the table, Cater was nearly tempted to pull out his phone and record everything.

When Crewel informed him about the kiss, he was excited but tried his best not to show his excitement openly. Leaning down, he gave you a playful kiss on your lips and reluctantly pulled back after a few seconds.

Once you woke up, he gave you a wink and immediately took a selfie before posting it on MagiCam with #truelove and #trueloveskiss.

Cater didn't directly get back at the duo, but he made their lives harder for a few weeks in the dorm, his favorite being ratting them out to Riddle when they break any and every rule.

Ace

OH CRAP! Wait, did that mean he had to kiss you in front of the others? Ace wasn't sure how to feel about this. A part of his was excited to kiss you, but the other was uncomfortable with so many prying eyes.

To calm himself down, he made a few jokes and playful comments. However, Crewel sighed, "Would you kindly wake (y/n)? You have wasted enough time."

Seeing the professor hitting his teaching pointer on the palm of his left hand, Ace immediately rushed to you and kissed you. Before he could make the kiss last longer, Crewel yanked him back from you.

When you woke up and the professor told you everything, you glared at Ace, rolled up your sleeves and began to chase him around the classroom. While Deuce stayed out of your way, the other students laughed and recorded the incident. Even Crewel seemed a bit amused.

Deuce

Deuce started to apologize, but when he heard about the kiss, he froze up. His mind short-circuited, and he didn't know what to do or say.

"Geez, kiss her already," Ace mumbled.

Hearing those words, Deuce snapped and started to blame Ace for what had happened. Before the fight could get out physical or out of hand, Crewel stepped in and commanded Deuce to wake you up.

As sweat rolled down his face, he kissed your cheek, making Ace laugh. "What a scaredy c-"

Crewel lightly hit Ace's arm with the teaching pointer before he could finish the sentence to prevent another fight.

When you woke up, and Crewel told you about what transpired, you glared at the duo. While Ace raised his hands in defense, Deuce apologized to you profusely.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for leaving an angry comment on a fanfic?

To recognize: 🤢🤮😡🤬👎

So I'm (19F) a fandom where the canon ship is my notp. I find some aspects of the ship abusive and reminds me of my relationship with my ex that I'm seeing a therapist for. No shades for people who like it, but I prefer my ships on the fluffy side. So instead I have another ship for this fandom, which is not canon obviously, and is a rarepair. Finding fanart and fanfic for my OTP is very hard. But that's alright. I make my own art and I'm spreading love for it.

One time I came across a fanfic of my OTP. I was overjoyed. I didn't let my excitement take over, I made sure to read the tags on the fic first, to make sure there's nothing that squicks me but it was all good.

I start reading the fanfic. My boy wants to confess but is shy, okay, a slowburn. I continued reading, reading, reading, no sign of a confession or even a single interaction for my OTP, no problem, it will sure happen later, so I continued reading, reading, reading. Surely the author is saving the fluffiness for the end, right? I have to be patient, fanfic authors are unpaid and don't owe me a thing.

I reached the last paragraph of the fic and not a single interaction yet, no only that, but my NOTP started dating as a result of the MC not taking even a single action, all of sudden. The fic ends like that, the boy is heartbroken because he do it first.

I was livid, my NOTP showed up in a fic that was supposed to be about my OTP. I scrolled up to the tag list again to make sure I didn't miss the ship tag and yes. I was correct. The author thought it was a good idea to hide the ship because spoilers.

So I made a a comment that's basically this: how dare you make me read this with my own eyes? Why did you not tag NOTP also this fic has zero ship content so why did you even bother putting it in the tag. Tag your fic correctly next time at least warn us when there's another ship. Delete your fic from the tags for God's sake.

Apparently this writer was new or something and they apologized but didn't even bother to correct the tags after reading the comment.

I'm probably TA because the comment may have been means but I feel justified because I didn't consent to reading about my notp and I have it blacklisted everywhere and I even skip scenes when I watch it to avoid, but here it was without a warning so it's not a case of don't like don't read.

AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

[kaivenom]

I just found your blog looking for Spencer white fics and yours are so good! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something between spider and a gn reader who finds it really attractive when he speaks French (cause that scene did something to me-)

Thank you for feeding the small amount of hbh fics🙏🙏

French cuisine

Summary: you go to Spencer's house and found him cooking, you decide to help him and you discover he can speak french.

Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x gn!reader

A/N: Sorry that this had taken so long, college is starting the final section before exams an i am going crazy. Words on cursive are the translation from french.

It was an ussual Friday, you were going to Spencer's house, see some movies and eat popcorn. When you entered the house with the keys you borrowed, a french song was playing on the background, that was strange you thought, it must be his mother. Following the song, you found Spencer in the kitchen with an apron full of flour and humming the song.

"Look what we have here, the perfect 50's housewife," you joked while you get to hugh him from behind.

"Bonjour." he asked with a smile.

"Bonjour."

"Comment allez-vous?" you didn't understand anything and that made you question things.

"Wait, don't tell me you know how to speak french?"

"Yeah, i know, but i don't have to do it everytime... it's awful when people ask me: can you say something in french? or things like that."

"But you could have told me, i am your girlfriend." you tightened your grip among his waist and made a pout.

"I don't like to brag about it, but now you know."

"Yeah, right. What you said to me before?"

"How are you?" he turned around and kissed your forehead.

"Good, you?"

"Bon." something on the form he said it, made you blush.

"I suppose that means good."

"Correct." he put a finger with fluor on your nose, painting it white.

"Can you say more to me?" you make puppy eyes and like always, he can't resist.

"Tu es très belle," your heart skipped a heartbeat, you didn't know what he said but hearing him talking in french was exciting you more every secon. "i said you are very beautiful."

"Yeah?" his hands went to your cheeks and kissed you.

"Tu es la meilleure personne du monde." his lips drain your soul with every word and every kiss in between. You are the best person in the world

"Tell me more, please."

"Je t'aime... tes lèvres... ton corps... tes sons." his kisses increased, in speed, in intensity and passion, he was starting to feel very aroused by your reaction. I love you... your lips... your body... your sounds.

"I don't know what you said but i do too." you both laughed inoccently, for a moment unaware from the steamy interaction you both were having.

"Je veux faire du sexe avec toi." a moan almost escaped your mouth, you only understood one word and that was enough.

Then you started to smell burnt but apparently Spider was so concentrated in kissing your lips and neck, that he had forgotten he was cooking and also that he had things on the pans... that now are burning.

"How do you say the kitchen is on fire?"

"La cuisine est en feu." only a second was needed before he understood your words.

You both had to run to turn off the fire and open the windows to vent the kitchen. Nothing was saved from the disaster so you decided to order some french food to honor the ocassion and finish what you both started.

#heartbreak high spider #heartbreak high imagine #heartbreak high x reader #heartbreak high 2022 #hbh s2 #hbh2 #spencer white imagine #spencer spider white x reader #spencer white x reader #spencer spider white #spencer white #spider x reader #spider imagine #spider x you #heartbreak high spider x reader #heartbreak high spider imagine

[cecilysass]

The Penultimate Partner Episode: Analyzing the Second-to-Last Episodes of Seasons 3-7

So I was thinking about the show’s tendency to do an episode that is explicitly about the Partnership—about the deep abiding bonds between Mulder and Scully—right before the season finale.

This doesn’t seem to happen in season 1 and 2 (the penultimate episodes are Roland and Our Town, respectively, which don’t seem to play the same role). And something different is happening in season 8 and 9, so I don't think they fit as well.

But during the show’s peak popularity, seasons 3-7, the second-to-last episode seems to be setting up baseline emotional stakes for whatever plotline is about to hit. These episodes are giving us the state of the partnership, reminding us how devoted they are to one another. They also tend to have to do with one or both partners having a distorted perception on reality that requires the other partner's intervention in some way. I’m calling them the Penultimate Partner episodes.

So can we look at the themes of each of these Partnership episodes and see development over time? I think yes. It’s gonna be long. I rewatched them all, so buckle up.

Season 3: Wetwired - partnership as trust Season 4: Demons - partnership as loyalty Season 5: Folie a Deux - partnership as shared madness Season 6: Field Trip - partnership as touchstones Season 7: Je Souhaite - partnership as happiness

Season 3: Wetwired  (right before Talitha Cumi)

This episode, like several in the Penultimate Partner episode category, involves a X-file that distorts perception. Because Scully can’t trust her own senses due to the mind control, she also can’t trust Mulder, calling into question the key tenet of their partnership. (And by season three, they have definitely established trust as the bedrock.)

Her gradual mistrust of Mulder in this episode is tense and painful; you can see on her face how much she argues with herself about it even as her mind is tricking her. Others who fall victim to this mind control phenomenon wind up murdering their romantic partner, but in the end of the episode, when they’re discussing what happened in the hospital, they both seem pretty unsurprised that Scully’s paranoia focused on Mulder. They both know, late season three, how crucial trust is between them. They understand that it’s Scully’s worst fear that Mulder would betray her. It’s not even news to them.

What Mulder’s worst fear might be is also hinted at, although it’s unsaid. He’s furious that her life is put at risk by the mysterious informant. When Mulder believes Scully may be dead and he’s going to identify her body, his reaction is chilling. He seems to completely shut down emotionally, not even showing any reaction to the Gunmen. Tellingly, when he is offered a choice between getting answers and going to ID Scully’s body, he doesn’t hesitate—he chooses Scully. (Sometimes people claim Mulder doesn’t show this kind of commitment to her until much later, even until Home Again in season 10, so it’s interesting to see it so unequivocal here.)   

I want to say that Scully’s anxiety about trusting Mulder in this episode is foreshadowing aspects of the cancer arc in the next season, but I don’t think that’s really what’s happening. This episode seems more like an entirely season 3 cap to the Anasazi / Blessing Way / Paperclip storyline, especially the murder of Melissa. Scully’s paranoia calls back Mulder’s in Anasazi, and Scully explicitly blames Mulder for her sister’s murder when she’s drawn a gun on him. Even just the fact that we're there with Maggie, who has a picture of Melissa displayed prominently, tells me that loss is supposed to be on both partners' minds. (Actually, the interaction between Mulder, Scully and Maggie is pretty amazing in this scene; they’re an emotionally complex trio who seem to be communicating on some other level. I love how when Mulder and Maggie are talking to freaked-out Scully they almost sound strangely unreal, almost like they really are speaking falsely. It allows us to imagine the scene as it looks from Scully’s point-of-view, as a massive betrayal.)

Wetwired is, technically, a mytharc episode, as this whole mind control thing seems to tie back into X and the Syndicate. Personally I think the episode’s ending, emphasizing the mytharc-related plot and X’s involvement and whatever tf was happening there, was a little misguided. For my tastes they would have done better to play up the more personal, character-based themes a little more. But I also think this episode was the first real Penultimate Partner episode, and it was setting some patterns that were going to be expanded on.

Season 4: Demons (before Gethsemane)

From the cold open, we can already tell this is already a more personal episode than Wetwired. Mulder is the one having perception problems now; he wakes from a disturbing dream, covered in blood, muddled memory. This is also technically a mytharc episode, but much more concerned with direct impact on character than Wetwired was. 

Scully instantly rushes to Mulder’s aid—walks right into his shower, for heaven’s sake—and absolutely never wavers in loyalty to him, even when he looks real, real guilty and a "rational" person would be suspicious. She is in fierce, must-protect-Mulder mode throughout this entire episode, from the moment she shows up palpating his head with her hands to her back-off behavior with the cops to her badass cold “I know what you do” comment to Dr. Goldstein. She also helps Mulder see through his distorted perception, telling him "this is not the way to the truth" as he holds a gun on her.

In this Penultimate Partner episode, we see something more than simple trust going on, although there’s trust, too. Maybe the word is loyalty or devotion. We see Mulder coming apart and Scully completely and utterly devoted to him. It’s actually very clear foreshadowing for the following week’s episode, Gethsemane. Mulder isn’t stable, and he needs Scully to keep him from “los[ing] his course,” as she says in Demons’ end narration. Gethsemane will follow up on the Mulder losing-his-course idea, and also will explore the idea that Scully’s bottomless support of Mulder isn’t always good for her. (This idea is voiced especially by Bill.) 

There are some ways in which this episode is a neat little bookend to Wetwired. In Wetwired, Scully flees to her mother’s house, desperate and paranoid; in Demons, Mulder, similarly unhinged, seeks out his mother at her house. In Wetwired, Scully sees things that aren’t there, and in Demons, it’s definitely implied that Mulder may be seeing things in his past that weren’t actually there. In Wetwired, Scully pulls a gun on Mulder, and in Demons, Mulder pulls one on Scully. 

I adore this episode, even though it’s definitely vulnerable to the critique that Mulder acts like a self-obsessed loon and Scully a hopeless enabler lol. Especially because it comes before the Gethsemane / Redux three parter, I wish the episode would have explicitly connected his behavior to the cancer arc, as I feel like that would have made his wild choices seem more understandable. If he felt like he needed to find answers faster because he knew Scully’s time was running out and he saw it all tied together with her fate, then we would get why he was acting so rashly. It would also tie more nicely into Gethsemane, which misleads the audience into thinking Mulder has killed himself, in part, because he believes she’s been given cancer to make him believe. But again, I love this episode. Scully showing up and putting that blanket around Mulder when he’s shaking. Her hugging him at the end when he’s desolate on the floor. This shows a partnership that’s been through Paper Hearts and Memento Mori—that’s moved beyond trust alone.

Season 5: Folie a Deux (before The End)

This is another episode about perception—about one partner seeing things the other can’t. Unlike in Wetwired or Demons, however, in this episode the altered perception actually represents the real truth, something everyone else fails to understand. The episode plays around with the tropes of earlier episodes like Wetwired, at first encouraging us to think that it's a delusion that Pincus is a monster, but then convincing us, through Mulder’s eyes, that the delusion is actually reality.  

As other people have observed, this episode ends up being a nice little metaphor for the whole show: Mulder knowing what no one else does, being ostracized and considered insane, asking Scully to find evidence to corroborate him and ultimately convincing her to believe him and see what he sees. Their partnership is, quite precisely, a madness shared by two. 

It’s a monster of the week, not a mytharc, so there’s no distraction of elaborate mytharc plot, just characters and monster. And this is a Vince Gilligan operation, so our focus is definitely on character. From the first scene with Mulder and Scully, we sense that we’re going to be talking about the partnership. Skinner gives them an assignment in Chicago that Mulder doesn’t think is worth it, and he complains in a particularly self-centered way to Scully, which she observes (“You’re saying I a lot.”) The episode is going to be very explicit that while Mulder might be monster boy, they are in this unhinged partnership situation together. Another important moment comes later, when Scully is calling the perp crazy for thinking he saw a monster, and Mulder says, “Well, I saw it, too.” Scully’s careful about-face after that, her delicate avoidance of implying she thinks Mulder is actually crazy, is part of the dance they’re doing at this late season five stage of their partnership. She doesn’t quite believe him, but she doesn’t knee-jerk not believe him either. 

And the foreshadowing of what’s to come in this one, whoo boy. Most obviously, we must acknowledge that 1013 knew exactly what they were doing when Mulder tells Scully “you’re my one in five billion.” A mere seven days from now, a mysterious beautiful ex who believes his theories is going to show up to immediately cast doubt on that claim. And this episode is also toying with the question of whether Scully actually does always back Mulder up when it’s important, when she has to accept she saw something illogical. At the end, does she tell Skinner she actually saw a giant bug in Mulder’s hospital room? We don’t know, but I think it’s implied she doesn’t. That’s all presaging what will happen in The Beginning coming off of Fight the Future. It’s Scully’s little way of resisting the madness, but it also hurts Mulder and damages the partnership, which will be a problem in season six. 

Season 6: Field Trip (before Biogenesis)

Full disclosure: this is my favorite episode. So I’m going to make some big claims about it. This is the ultimate Penultimate Partner episode—the one that best knits together what it wants to say about their partnership and what it wants to establish for the finale. It's a monster-of-the-week episode (another Vince Gilligan ep, with John Shiban) but refers to the mytharc often. It’s also one of the best episodes about their partnership, period. 

This is yet another episode about distorted perception. This time, however, under the influence of a giant mushroom, both partners are unable to perceive clearly, to determine what is real and what is a lie. And when they’re confused, they critically turn to one another to help them see what the truth is.

Coming off of season six, the partnership is rocky. Mulder is frustrated that after so many theories of his have borne out, he still can’t get the benefit of the doubt from Scully, something he explicitly says in the dialogue here. Scully has felt like she’s not been trusted or heard, like Mulder has turned to others (Diana Fowley, for example) rather than his partner.

This is an episode about how they absolutely need one another to be able to make sense of the world—that individually each of their points-of-view are not enough. In Mulder’s hallucination, Scully accepts his claims about alien life forms too completely, not applying enough skepticism, not pushing back against him. In Scully’s hallucination, a world without Mulder, everyone is unacceptably unquestioning of the status quo, refusing to dig deeper, lacking Mulder’s critical acumen and drive. Neither partner likes the feeling of being unopposed, and it makes both of them suspicious about the hallucination’s reality. They may think they want their own view to prevail, but they need one another to be a whole person.

The theme of what’s real and what’s not – and needing one another to discern the truth–is exactly what is picked up and developed further in the Biogenesis-Sixth Extinction-Amor Fati arc that follows this. Scully’s skepticism has to stretch to incorporate more of Mulder’s worldview to make sense of what she sees in the Ivory Coast, and of course, Mulder calls on Scully’s worldview to see through his misleading dream world in Amor Fati. In fact, you could argue Field Trip is really about the idea that Mulder and Scully are one another’s touchstones—the people they need to know what’s right and real. 

Incidentally, this episode also plays around with some of season 6’s other subtextual throughlines: Mulder and Scully’s anxieties about possibly entering a non-platonic relationship, their unease about what a normal, domestic life might even be for them. For the entire episode they’re directly compared and juxtaposed with the Schiffs, a young married couple who died on Brown Mountain. The Schiffs are a tall man and a redheaded woman. They even die hallucinating lying together on a hotel bed after she asked him to “hold her” (although I do seriously doubt 1013 was intentionally foreshadowing a full year ahead). The last shot is of Mulder reaching out to take Scully’s hand across the ambulance, suggesting a kind of partnership beyond just, you know, partnership. Which takes us to the next season.  

Season 7: Je Souhaite (before Requiem)

Truthfully, I don’t think this episode fits quite as well in the Penultimate Partner category. It doesn’t share some of the same traits as these other episodes—it’s not quite as notably about perception, for instance—and it’s not fundamentally about the partnership in the same way. But it does end up commenting on their partnership (even their relationship, really) as part of its theme, so I think we can include it—especially because its position right before Requiem ends up being important. 

Je Souhaite (btw, written and directed by Vince Gilligan) has a bit of an unsettled feeling to it because it was kind of treading water, waiting to see what happened with DD and the series. Nothing too monumental could happen with the partnership or the plot because it wasn’t clear to anyone what would happen next with the show: whether it would end or continue, whether DD would be involved or not.

So we have a story about Mulder and Scully making peace with not having a significant impact on the world—e.g. not bringing about world peace, not introducing invisible bodies to science. Instead, they are content to delightfully share a beer and comment that they have made one another “pretty happy” (as Scully says about Mulder). Through the jinni character, they seem to take the lesson that they can enjoy being with one another, accept the simple happiness that their relationship brings them. Rather than wish for success that comes too easily, they take joy in the little things with one another.

Comparing this episode to the Penultimate Partner episodes that come before, we can really see how Mulder and Scully’s dynamic has evolved by season seven. We have a Scully who is much more open to supernatural phenomena, for example, and whose skepticism seems more like a reflex or a defense mechanism now. Scully’s move towards belief is partially reflected in the plot of the episode: the X-file here really isn’t even science fiction. It is just straight up fantasy or magical realism. Aside from Scully's brief mention of a disease to explain what happened to the mouthless man in the cold open, no plausible scientific explanation for the jinni's long life or wishes is really even floated.

Scully is delighted by the discovery of the invisible body, and Mulder is visibly delighted by her delight. He’s also frustrated by her retreat into doubt when the body disappears, of course. But even the reversal into her old skepticism is half-hearted, as she soon after she's engaging in discussion with Mulder about what his final wish was. This is consistent with the overall blurring of the old hardline believer-skeptic dynamic we see in season 7. It’s also peeking ahead to Scully’s coming role as resident basement believer in season 8. 

The last scene, with the beers and Caddyshack, is meant to be a callback to djinni Jenn’s comment that she wishes she could “live my life moment by moment... enjoying it for what it is instead of... instead of worrying about what it isn't.” Mulder, we see, is taking a cue from her. (And good for him, as we almost never see these characters do this. Except on rare baseball-related occasions.)

However, this episode’s position right before Requiem—and right before the events of season 8—ends up giving this scene a real bittersweet bite. We know, after Requiem, that they were probably a romantic couple at this time. We know, after Requiem, that this time is going to be their last happy time together for a long while. Later in season 8, we learn that one lingering wish of Scully’s in season 7 is that she wanted to conceive a child with Mulder. And of course we know, after Requiem, that she gets her wish—but with a vicious catch, with a terrible side effect, much like what happens with the jinni’s wishes. 

So that’s my academic thesis on that. I know others have pointed out the existence of this type of episode before. What did I miss? Do you think I am wrong to leave out seasons 1, 2, 8, and 9? Why do we think these episodes focus so much on distorted perception? Interested to hear others’ thoughts (if they make it through this lol).

#the x files #x files meta #penultimate partner episodes #wetwired #x files #demons #season 3 x files #season 4 x files #folie à deux #season 5 X files #field trip #season 6 x files #je souhaite #season 7 x files #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #MSR

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Heyy! Could I request Jason x Child of Nyx! Reader, i'd figure it'd be a cool thing since you know Zeus and Nyx don't really like each other that and then their children fall in love.

You don't have to do it, if you don't want to and ps. I love all of your works! <3

okay so these have been sitting in my inbox since eons ago, so I decided I was gonna set myself a minimum of 0.4k words because I figured people would rather read a lil bit of their request rather then non of it, but I just churned out 1.2k words of this and I know more then the gods do about nocturnal animals.

enjoy <3

he was raised by wolves - Jason G x child of Nyx reader/animal lover

»»————-　★　————-««

Jason dumped his teddy bear jacket on the back of the spinning chair, after he checked there were no hedgehogs eating plum offcuts on it. He’d made that mistake one too many times. There were a lot of miniscule holes in the sleeves of his jacket. 

The medical kit he was looking for was most likely in one of the crates stacked beneath the snake table. The table with the snake tanks on it, obviously. 

Your cabin was dark a lot of the time, when you weren’t there, courtesy of the kingdom of nocturnal animals lurking between books and in pillowcases, so Jason had to turn on a few of the antique lamps you’d found [on the side of the road, of course] so that other people could see.

He got to his knees, wincing at the crack he heard. 

He could also hear a faint hissing. He looked into one of the tanks, and waved at Benjamin. Benjamin was a northern desert night snake. Meaning he looked like if a leopard wearing a choker was turned into a slithery little serpent. Jason was glad you’d passed that pet leopard you used to have onto Pollux and Castor. It got fur all over his clothes.

Benjamin just stuck his tongue out at him, and Jason crawled underneath the desk, looking for the first aid kit every cabin was supposed to have.

There was a pretty high chance you had chucked it out to make room for that little collection of shrinking green frogs you had found in a river by the Hecate cabin, deep in the woods so that when they accidentally cursed bloodlines and the like, no one was in imminent danger. Lou Ellen owed her first born to three different beings, but that was irrelevant. 

He dug past a few boxes of sugar glider pellets, and found the first aid kit. 

“JASON GRACE, SON OF A BITCH, CHILD OF ROME, CONSUL OF DEMIGODS, PRAETOR OF THE FIRST LEGION!”

Jason sat straight up. A thud echoed through the low lit little cabin, and his head began to pound. He’d hit it on the bottom of the snake table. He sniffed, “I said that once.” 

He heard you trot over as he tried to extract himself, the back of his head throbbing painfully. 

“Babe, we talked about this,” you fussed, and yanked him out into the open with the force of someone who took chocolate out of coyotes mouths on the daily. “You gotta stop banging your head! You’re getting that chronic pain from it that Will told you about!”

Jason grumbled about nothing, and squinted as he looked around. Your face was just a blob. 

“You dropped your glasses babe, hear, lemme… wait, hold this,” you said, dumping your wrapped up hoodie into his arms, the one with the moon cycle phases on the back, and then crawling back underneath the snake table. “I’ve got em!”

He watched you slide them back onto his eyes, your hands actually very gentle compared to the yanking from before. He tried not to grin stupidly. The hoodie in his arms wriggled. Jason looked down, and a small spiky red face looked up at him with big shiny eyes.

“Uh…” he said.

You stood up with a huff, “I knew it, you’ve got a concussion. Now you’re slurring your speech!”

“...No, I just wasn’t expecting a fox,” Jason managed to squeak out, staring at the little animal. It was pretty cute. It reminded him of a wolf, but not the wolves he knew, more of a spindly wolf dipped in ketchup. 

You paused, the first aid kit in your hands. “You weren’t? What did you think I was doing in the forest?” 

“I don’t know,” Jason said, standing back up and moving to the squishy blanketed bed behind the humongous crystal ball and stack of telescopes. There were also a few cat playgrounds to weave around, but he managed to sink into your pile of bat shaped teddies and pillows. “Fighting monsters, near death experiences, something regular?”

You rolled your eyes, and sat cross legged on the bed, reaching for his head with those gentle hands that made him understand how you could pick up the deadliest of spiders and feralist of wolverines without even a scratch. 

Jason wasn’t even nocturnal, but he did sink into your hold. 

Then you let go to crack the unfrozen ice pack and let the chemicals take over until it would make the tips of your fingers freezing. Jason knew to expect your cold hands under his shirt, trying to freeze him out. 

He was sort of used to it, though.  

He looked around your cabin while you savagely whacked the poor icepack against one of the many thick framed mirrors lining your walls. A few bats flapped out of their hiding places in the rafters and settled back down. A baby puma hissed from its place by the umbrella stand that was actually just full of swords. 

From the outside, your cabin looked like a tiny portion of a haunted mansion plonked between the Asteria cabin and the Hestia cabin, which was really just a cozy little room for anyone. Jason pet the soft head of the fox napping in his arms. On the inside, though, it was just old lamps and chew toys and even older mirrors. And a lot of poo bags. And record players. And Jason’s hoodies.

You were already wearing his teddy bear jacket, but he didn’t argue when you pressed the ice pack to his head.

“So, what were you really lookin for in there, babe?” you asked, taking back the fox. You held your hand out, and it disappeared into a shadow. 

“Bandages.”

On the other side of the room, out of a shadow, you grabbed a ziploc bag of raspberries. You pulled it back and began feeding the little fox, red staining your cold fingertips. 

“You know you can’t beat Beth, right?” you teased, looking up for a moment with those gorgeous eyes that made Jason’s head feel a little floaty. Or maybe it was just the injury. 

You smirked, “I mean, not that it’s totally not hot when you beat the shit out of people or anything.”

Yep. Definitely just the head injury. Totally.

Jason ate a slightly squashed raspberry. “I know, but I wanted to practise. I was gonna find Will. Can’t remember how to wrap my wrists.”

You passed over the fox, who wiggled out of the hoodie and curled around a fruit bat Squishmellow with a yawn, fangs stained with red that may or may not be berries or blood. 

Jason shuffled forwards on the bed, ice pack falling from his white blonde hair. “My turn?”

“I thought you were going to get the shit beaten out of you by Annabeth?” You said with a smirk. You had that shark tooth necklace on. Jason gave you a half hearted evil eye, and you opened your arms.

He flopped into the hug, pushing you both back onto the bed. A Tasmanian devil [how? You were in America!] and a grumpy looking white tailed deer and about seven different types of bush mice stared at you. 

Jason didn’t care. He snuggled into your hug, chin on your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair.  

He was your favorite feral animal. 

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #Jason grace #Jason grace pjo #Jason grace headcanons #Jason #Jason pjo #Jason grace x reader #Jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x male reader #Jason grace fluff

[cowboyjen68]

Hello Cowboy Jen! I was wondering if you had any advice for me

Here’s the situation- I’m a young lesbian (I’ll be 17 going into college) and I’m going to study geology. I’m assuming my classes and later on my work environments are going to be mostly men since geology is a male-dominated field. Any advice for being in spaces without very many women? And picking a different field’s not a very good option either, geology’s been my obsession since I was five and I doubt I could give any other field as much attention and focus.

When I was DEAD SET on being in the DNR or a Forest Ranger or some kind of Park worker I was in my tweens and early teens. I loved the idea of working with people and animals and outside and getting to use my hands and my knowledge of land and history. Then some Jack Ass at the Corps of Engineers station I volunteered at told me women couldn't really do the job right and it was too dangerous and I lost confidence. I stopped going and didn't reapply for the Mayor's Youth Parks program I had worked at for two years. I just left the idea behind. I see now all the older women park rangers that are around and read stories of women like my current boss who was a naturalist for years in our county. I work at a nature center almost entirely staffed by strong women with the exception of the CEO, the marketing guy and one outreach guy. If I had seen any of these women in my teens i would have said "heck yeah women can do this".

You are going to be that leader, that beacon. That is a thought to keep in your pocket on hard days.

The truth about working with men is, in general, they don't really care and they kinda just feel awkward. They lack social skills around women so they end up saying the dumbest stuff. I am not saying men can't be total pains in the ass or feel threatened by you being around, they absolutely can. At the end of the day we are all human and women are 50% of the population so at some point they have dealt with women in class or at a job.

Mostly just start off with giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Saying stupid stuff to try and be funny is not the same as harassment or hate. If you don't feel offended or insulted or threatened don't try feel like you are because you think you are supposed to be.

Look them in the eye, do listen to those who have good things to share, teach or discuss. Don't dismiss men for being men. Just as many humans, they want to share what they know and tell you what they have learned. I have been taught so much by the men I work with at the farm but I had to tell myself to listen and not just paint them in my brain as being bossy or mansplaining.

Don't shy away from questions when you need help. Ask when you need to ask and thank them for helping when they do. If you are interrupted by them say "I am not finished, please wait your turn" or something similar. Stand up for your right to share what you know or to get more information when you require it.

Basically, think of men as neutrally as possible until one proves he is to be avoided or ignored. Listen to your gut if you feel unsafe or degraded and keep notes on that behavior. If you must, tell your professor or a dept head if you feel like the bad actor will continue or possible endanger you.

Once you learn your trade you can recruit other women and share your love of your job/degree and some day it will not be more men than women around you!

#trades #women #on the job #careers #college

[xeas]

Can you please do a Norton and fool's gold with a reader where the reader has cinnamoroll personality (cinnamoroll is from sanrio)

MIND OVER MATTER IS MAGIC!

🍍 IN WHICH: drabbles (seperately) of Norton Campbell and Fool's Gold with a reader who is like cinnamoroll from sanrio (basically, shy yet sweet who will also help out their friends whenever they can)

🥥 NOTE FROM XEA!: thank you so much for your request! i love writing for norton but im wary my fools gold may ooc...haha...

🫧CONTENT WARNINGS: pre-established relationship, Norton may appear overprotective, mc may appear to be 'pure and innocent' in a fashion that may be perceived as corny to some readers. reader is referred to as "doll" in Norton's section, "babyface" in Fools Gold's. Seer is mentioned and Grave keeper is implied in Fools Gold section. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

NORTON CAMPBELL; The Prospector

NORTON swears up and down he's done nothing worthy of him deserving you.

The way your thumb grazes his knuckles in a comforting manner--whether to soothe your own nerves or his is unsure-- but the expression of innocence coated on your face both makes his heart sink to his stomach and gives him butterflies.

You have the eyes of someone who has gazed at few possible traumatic scenarios and the skin of one who not been lashed by the harsh truths of the world. He squishes down his feeling of envy when he feels he's going too far down the rabbit hole of his thoughts.

But now, as he bandages up your wound from the cold Night Watch, he can't help but realize how that weighs you down. It wasn't supposed to be you with the gash in your thigh it was supposed to be the teammate you wasted no time saving. You took a hit for them, and for what? So they could have a futile 5 seconds to run as fast as they could only for the harsh winter wind to yank them back to the hunter? You we're such a fool, having so much faith in these people.

But that's what led you two to become such a power couple. You gave him a chance.

"Norton-"

"Hush up, doll." And you do just that.

He looks angry and you feel nervous because of it.

"I'm sorry for getting injured." You mumble quietly. You don't expect a 'Its fine' or a 'Its not your fault' because this was a rookie mistake and you by no means are a rookie.

He remains silent, finishing up dressing your wound. His gloved hands go to hold your thighs as you sit in some corner of burned down building in the Arms Factory.

"Don't do that again." He states. Its not up for debate and you silently nod, moving to give his forehead a kiss as you steady yourself to get up and work on getting out of here.

NORTON CAMPBELL; Fools Gold (Hunter Identity)

"Hm, shame. Really."

Fools Gold let out a teasing laugh as he shoved you into a chair. He leaned on the wall behind it as you glared up at him. Fools gold clicked his tongue (does he even have one??) and fake pouted, most likely mocking you.

"D'aw, don't look at me like that, Babyface. You wouldn't be like this if you didn't sacrifice yourself for that silly little seer."

At least he was brutally honest.

Your muscles are screaming at you and you can feel them throbbing after you spent the last 2 minutes running and jumping and rolling to get away from him.

He traces your jawline with his pickaxe, you can feel your face heat up as Fools Gold lets out a wheezing chuckle. "All bark huh?"

You try to stutter out a response not until you see the ground beside you break. This was going to take a while.

୨🐙୧ ‧ 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙉 𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝘼𝙔! ⋆ ˚｡

🌺 𝙓𝙊𝙓𝙊,

XEA!

#idv x reader #id5 x reader #Norton Campbell x reader #Norton Campbell #idv prospector #idv prospector x reader #Fools Gold x reader #Fools Gold #Identity V x reader

[meichenxi]

languages, travel, identity, grief

Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.

I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.

That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.

I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.

And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.

I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.

And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.

But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.

There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!

And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.

So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.

You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.

I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.

It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.

And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.

It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.

Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.

#langblr #chinese #languages #culture #china #:(((((((((((

[galedekarios]

Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.

You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!

i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.

i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:

they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.

they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.

they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.

the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.

for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.

add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:

[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!

[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.

[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.

[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.

i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)

...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.

additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.

as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.

#ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks #text: personal #meta: mybg3 #bloodweave critical

[avisisisis]

Fuck it. Invincible Tumblr

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Wake up to see the aliens attacking again. God fucking damn it.

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

Imagine how the aliens feel after seeing you

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Get better insults. You won't be insulting anyone that way

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

Nahhh. Don't need to. You already humiliate yourself every time you open your mouth

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Your entire existence is an insult

☪️ superherofan Follow

i forget that superheroes have social media and regularly use it.... invincible has Tumblr holy shit

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Boo.

☪️ superherofan Follow

OMG??

#HI MR INVINCIBLE SIR #I SWEAR ALL MY A/B/O FICS WERE WRITTEN OUT OF LOVE

🌙 artemislover Follow

Can't believe I have to say this, but can you guys please stop making Omni-Man x Immortal theories?!?!

Ik you think the idea of them having been romantically involved is funny, but c'mon, people

It is true that there should be more openly queer superheroes, but the fact that there are people who genuinely believe they fucked is wild...

Besides, we have to stop following the lives of superheroes that closely. They deserve to get some privacy too! They're still people

Also, didn't Omni-Man once mention his wife?? And son?? Shipping him w a man when he's clearly straight and in an established relationship is stupid

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

These are all great points but they've definitely fucked

🌙 artemislover Follow

INVINCIBLE?????

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Godddddd. My parents just do not know what privacy is, PLEASE STOP HAVING SEX WHEN I MIGHT BE HOME... please you're killing me

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Wait, shit, wrong blog...

🌭 hotdog Follow

shocking revelation: invincible has parents

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

??? Of course I have parents. Where'd you think I came from?

🌭 hotdog Follow

Honestly i thought you were from mars

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

from MARS????

#i'm not martian??? i don't even look martian #do i look martian?

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

ATOM EVE LIKES MY FAVORITE BAND????

🚫 ohgodpleaseno Follow

really? How do you know?

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

Okay quick storytime

My friends and I wanted to go to see this band live for a LONG time, so we saved up money for years until we could finally afford it, right?

Well, the day we finally get to see them live, I look up and I see Atom Eve, just. Flying there. Above the crowd

She was singing, apparently very loudly and she looked like she was having sm fun. She saw me and waved!!! Atom Eve!!!! Waved at me!!!!!!!

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

:)

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

WAIT R YOU THE ACTUAL ATOM EVE

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

Yeah. Check my Insta, there's a link to this blog!

💃 thedancingquinn Follow

AFKFHFHFHFJDJDJDJDDJDHFHSUEUEJEJ

#ATOM EVE TALKED TO ME!!!!!!

🤖 officialrobot Follow

Today, Monster Girl told me to download this app and create a blog — I did not think it was necessary, but she insisted.

I decided to listen to her. She was very persuasive.

I will be sharing things about my day, as she has told me to do. Expect to hear from me after this.

👀 eyaseyaseays Follow

you really think we're gonna believe you're the real Robot?? C'mon.

‼️ notafurryyet Follow

Dude, RP exists. Let people live their lives in peace

❤️ justamonstergirl Follow

This is so funny

‼️ notafurryyet Follow

That's... The real monster girl. Replying to a fake Robot post...

Dude I think he's real

🎉 partyshitter Follow

The new Guardians are a fucking shit show. Are we seriously meant to believe they're going to protect us? Really??

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Oh Id like to see YOU almost get killed every single fucking day without one fucking break only for asholes like you to shit on us like that. We almost die every single day!!! Were the ones geting our hands dirty not you

🤖 officialrobot Follow

I'd* assholes* We're*

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Your supposed to be with me in this one

🤖 officialrobot Follow

You're*

☪️ somanykates Follow

The Immortal kinda... 👀

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

WHAT

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

I cant believe she cheated on me... what a bitch

🧬 atomevesss Follow

😐

☪️ somanykates Follow

We're going to have a fucking talk, Rex.

💥 explosionsbaby Follow

Shit

🍐 shrinkshrek Follow

You had this one coming buddy

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

The fact that Miles Morales canonically reads JJK, though...

🔫 shootmeplease Follow

INVINCIBLE LIKES MARVEL?? AND JJK???

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

Why is everyone always surprised when I like something? I don't get it

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

:(

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

I cannot have just found out you're still alive through Tumblr...

🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow

Seriously though. Are you okay now? I know you're not mentally, after the whole Chicago thing w your dad, but at least physically?

🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow

I'll survive, I guess

💔 thisishowtobeah Follow

INVINCIBLE?? It is such a relief to see you're still here after the whole Chicago ordeal Mr Invincible

📸 definitelyinsanebaby Follow

Yeah maybe don't remind him of that rn??

💔 thisishowtobeah Follow

OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY

#I AM SO SO SO SORRY #omg i hope you're doing good mr invincible :(((

#invincible #invincible series #invincible comic #mark grayson #atom eve #rex splode #kate cha #shrinking rae #robot invincible #monster girl #unreality #fake tumblr #fake social media #this is fun #avis' post

[forthegothicheroine]

@gehayi said: can you please tell us more about Israel Rank?

POV: We are at a slumber party and I am kicking my feet and giggling and telling you about the boy I like.

"Oh my god, his name is Israel Rank, and he's from a book called Israel Rank: Autobiography of a Criminal, and he is so hot! The musical A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, and the movie Kind Hearts and Coronets were both based on the book, but they made him other things besides Jewish, which is so bogus. Roger Ebert said it made the story more 'universal', which I guess means half-Italian is more universal than half-Jewish, which, what the fuck?

Anyway, he's the worst person in the world and I love him. He's like Heathcliff plus Steerpike plus Edmund the Bastard. He's the really distant relative of and earl, and his mother was disinherited for marrying a Jewish man. Israel isn't technically Jewish, he was baptized and raised Anglican, but he looks Jewish- and also really hot, and he says that combination upsets people! Kind of an Adrian Brody thing? I would have cast Ezra Miller before they turned out to be a shitshow of a person. And his name is Israel, kind of as a fuck you to mom's family. So he decides if people are going to give him shit about it anyway, he's going to embrace it.

He's in love with this girl Sibella, who won't marry him because he's both half-Jewish and poor, so starting as a hypothetical lark he wonders if he could just murder every single family member between him and an earldom. And then he does it! After sexual fantasies about Lucrezia Borgia encouraging him to! What an absolute freak.

So he starts killing, and his narration is so dry and funny about it. He tells the reader that in his experience, Jews aren't all that violent- he speculates that Shylock would have walked back the pound of flesh if he'd had time to calm down- but he has the blood of evil rapacious noblemen on his non-Jewish side which are to blame. He kills most of his family, except for the cousin-in-law whom he marries. He also still love Sibella. And his wife! He just can't stop fucking, he's so awful! (And I think he's bisexual. At least, I don't know how else I'm supposed to interpret the part where he's in school and "the boy I loved chose me as his Jonathan.")

And he gets away with it! He's super popular at his trial because he's so handsome and charming and the same society that scorned him, now that he's an earl, gossips that his Jewish ancestry must be very slight and distant. And there's a twist that gets him off the hook which is actually a real bummer of a plot point, even he's bummed out by it, but it's such a perfect capper to a life of cruelty.

Honestly, I do get why none of the adaptations keep the half-Jewish thing, they're probably afraid it would seem antisemitic, but in my opinion it's a real shame because it's so central to his character and I think I do want a sexy Jewish Byronic antihero. He's the worst. I love him. I would marry him. I would immediately divorce him. His favorite book is Emma!"

For a more academic discussion, I did a podcast episode on him way back when!

#israel rank #jewish

[shadesofmauve]

Colors!

My thumb's been fucked up by a steroid shot to the point where I can't hold a pen to draw, but the light touch of a watercolor brush is mostly okay, and I had dot cards for Daniel Smith and DaVinci paints, so I've spent the last few weeks unleashing my manic color goblin.

Friends, I've painted so many happy little rectangles. And it has been a journey.

I've found that one of the most-referenced sources for pigment lightfastness is a hard-coded website straight out of the 90s that also talks about UFOs and human evolution. (I don't know what the guy says about human evolution, because I'm afraid to find out, but it makes me very happy that a site like that still exists).

I've learned you can make lovely purples with a cool red and phthalo green, which actually MAKES SENSE, I GUESS, but is still a bit weird and awesome even though I understand the color theory.

I've painted with the Danger Colors.

(Cobalt, manganese, chromium, and cadmium. DO NOT LICK).

I've finally spelled phthalo often enough that I can remember it!

And I've fallen deeply, desperately in love, then had my heart broken.

It's name was DaVinci Phthalo Turquoise (pigment code PB16). When I painted it out it was beautiful; smoothly flowing into a perfect fade, the deepest, most inviting pool of cool, saturated perfect teal. I burst into song. A choir of angels descended to sing backup vocals. I never used to believe in love at first sight, but I was wrong.

...then it dried.

It dulled so much. It was still fine. Nothing special, but fine. Whatever. I'm over it. I am a strong, independent artist. I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.

There's still all the other colors. Colors that didn't betray me. Much.

Here, Monkey is helping model the last swatch tests, which helped me choose which cool red to buy. The phone doesn't capture all the nuance, but they also started out fairly close. (I went with column 3, DaVinci's PV19 quinacridone rose madder).

So... if you're one of those tenacious, patient people who follows my fic, and you've been wondering why I haven't posted, I suppose I really just have one thing to say:

Colors go brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

#watercolor #pigments #painting #color swatches #so many colors #so satisfying to line them up in rows #colors go brrrrr #Shades makes art #? #traditional art #danger colors #mmmm cobalt

[seramilla]

God that must be so hard and nerve wracking for Carmilla. Finally knowing what happened to the baby she lost and feeling slightly relieved cause now here was her baby safe and here in her arms again where she belonged damnit but they were all in hell and her baby had already lost an eye and had to fight every day...

But also...how are Clara and Odette handling the news that they found their baby sister and just who she is?

Carmilla takes a few days to determine if she wants to inform Odette and Clara about what she'd gleaned following the most recent Extermination. In the first place, her girls had been working overtime extracting all the angelic steel left behind near the Hotel; it's a veritable treasure trove this time, and they'd been so excited to get started. Second, Carmilla needed time to process recent revelations herself, and figure out how to delicately broach the subject with her eldest two.

How is she supposed to tell her daughters that their sister, whose existence they'd barely even registered back on Earth, had quite literally come back from the dead? Not only that, they'd missed an entire childhood together; growing, playing, bonding, fighting, and loving one another -- all things Clara and Odette had the opportunity to do. How is Carmilla supposed to just go up to them and say, "Surprise! You remember that child I was pregnant with when we all died? Well, she's still around! She's an ex-Exterminator, killed hundreds of our people, and I don't even know if she wants anything to do with us!"

Would Odette even accept her? Clara is usually the more open-minded of the two. That's another question she can't answer. With how many times Vaggie's "sister" Exorcists have tried to kill them over the years, would her other daughters even want to have anything to do with Vaggie? She thinks they would...Clara the most likely of the two...but they are fully grown women with their own thoughts and feelings. She wouldn't blame them if they...well, they'd have every right not to want that kind of relationship with Vaggie, at any rate.

Carmilla is still stewing in these thoughts, having practically worn a path in the middle of her bedroom floor by walking back and forth so many times, when she feels a vibration in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, Vaggie's name flashes prominently on the screen, like a fresh piece of graffiti on the side of a building. She almost drops her phone in surprise, but manages to keep it together. She taps the answer icon in trepidation.

"Ye-yes?"

"Carmilla?" Vaggie's voice on the other end sounds so...tired. Carmilla recalls she's been home for a few days now, but she wouldn't have been able to tell by the sound of her voice alone. Her tone is so...ragged and laced with anxiety; a spitting image of her own, if she's honest.

"Vaggie! Umm, yes! How can I help you?"

There is a definitive pause, one that makes the distance between them seem more metaphysical than real. They are just across the city from each other, but in every other sense, Vaggie is undoubtedly existing in her own plane of reality right now. She seems so much farther away than Carmilla could possibly reach by foot. It must have taken her a lot to call Carmilla. The arms dealer puts her patience to the test, and waits intently for Vaggie to find the words to voice what she needs to say.

"Carmilla..." Vaggie finally starts, a voice much shakier and insecure than she remembers; a far cry from that determined, brave girl that challenged her at her compound all those days ago. "Can I...come over?"

Carmilla's heart jumps into her throat. Her ears start ringing, and she almost needs to sit down on her bed before she collapses.

"Yes!" she says, flinching as she sounds a little too eager for her own ears. There's no helping that now. "Of-of course! Whatever you need, mi querida. My door is always open. When do you want to come by?"

"Ummm," Vaggie hesitates, as if she fears she's asking too much. "Is right now okay? Are you...busy?"

Odette and Clara will be back soon, but that is the furthest thing from Carmilla's mind at the moment. She'll deal with it when the time comes.

"No, that's perfectly fine! Absolutely, I'll be here! I'm not going anywhere today."

Vaggie sounds a little relieved, but also like she hadn't expected her question to be answered so quickly, so freely. Carmilla hopes she doesn't sound too eager...but she is. How can she not be? This is her daughter, for goodness’ sake, her child, wanting to see her.

"O-oh-okay!" Vaggie says, a little more eager this time. "Gi-give me an hour? And I'll...I'll be there."

"Text me once you're close by," Carmilla says, trying to push away any further doubts and hesitation from her mind. Vaggie wants to come over. She needs to be strong for her. She needs to keep it the fuck together. "I'll come out and get you this time."

"Okay," Vaggie responds. "Thanks...thank you, Carmilla."

Vaggie hangs up. Carmilla stiffens. She stands up, putting her large hands over her face, wiping her forehead down to her cheeks from the stress of it all. Vaggie is coming back, coming here, right now. She tries so much not to freak the fuck out.

Now to figure out what to do about Odette and Clara.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #fan theories #ask #anon #vaggie carmilla related au

[the-lil-spud]

Mama Didn't raise no Bimbo!

Y/n was thrown head first into Hell - like everyone she has to find her own path and she was doing pretty darn good but what happens when she finally comes across the three Vee's who don't necessarily like to share...

Chapter One

This was such a bad idea!

Such a bad idea! How did Angel Dust manage to convince you to do this was beyond you. But here you are gripping the handle of the front door of the Vee’s Tower.

“Oh, I’m just running a little late at work honey, meet me at the tower and we will head to the clubs from there,” you mocked under your breath as you turned the handle. Swear, if that Valentino tries to get you to join a porno you will kill Angel.

Deep breaths. Entering the main foyer, you squint because of all the damn bright lights, screens, and décor. Spying all the cameras you drag your coat closer to your body. No hiding from anyone here. You make your way up to the receptionist desk as instructed by your lovely ‘friend’.

“Hey sugar, I’m here to see Angel Dust, they’re expecting me don’t suppose you could tell me where I should be going could ya?” Giving your best winning smile at the bored receptionist, at her unimpressed flicker of her eyes going over your outfit and hair you could feel the smile start to strain. Like everyone, your appearance changed when you came to Hell, and you considered yourself lucky that you mainly had humanistic characteristics – the fangs, violet eyes, skin as white as snow and wicked pink highlights in your hair you just considered as an extra – it could be so much worse. You have seen much worse.

Smoothing your hands over the coat you let your smile drop and narrowed your eyes at the receptionist. Down here in Hell you were sure others just made situations difficult to be difficult. Actually… that was probably true. They were just the worst down here.

Popping her gum in your face you could feel your eyebrow start to twitch. Bitch. Tapping away on her keyboard she proceeds to ignore you for a few moments before pointing at a sign which told you which floors for what people. Seeing Valentino’s floor, you assume that’s where you should be heading. Thanking the receptionist – though she didn’t exactly do anything but affect your confidence in your outfit – you make your way over to the elevators, getting in as soon as one arrived and jabbing at Valentino’s floor.

Crossing your fingers you wouldn’t meet that particular Overlord, considering the receptionist was a pain in the ass you could only imagine what he would be like and from the horror stories Angel Dust told you – you really didn’t wanna meet him.

Reaching the floor quicker than you expected you straighten out your outfit, slightly regretting the black stilettos but they were the only decent heels you have in your closet for dancing, plus the neon pink on the base matched your accessories and splashes of colour on your dress. You fully embraced the image that you were a bimbo, it helped with tips and your image at work. As a singer and a dancer at one of the clubs on Pride Circle, the dumber you appeared the more people underestimated you. And you just loved it when they underestimated you.

It's where you met Angel Dust, in one of the first clubs that you were working at. Through him you then met Alastor who after hearing you sing a few older songs then allowed you to sing on his Radio Show (on occasion) and from him you then met Rosie who put in a good word for you with your now current boss at one of the more respectable (using that term loosely) clubs in Pride Circle. Which is the only reason why you would enter the Vee’s Tower – you owed Angel Dust a lot this was a small ask.

Stepping onto Valentino’s floor the smell of smoke, sex and sweat hit you like a wall. Flickering your violet eyes around you spied the Spider speaking to the Overlord. Damn. Seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be ending any time soon you huffed under your breath before making your way to them.

“Angel, sugar, you ready to go?” You ask when you reach the two, keeping your gaze on him as from the corner of your eye you see the tall Overlord swivel on the spot. Angel’s eyes connect with yours before trying to hide a grimace.

“Heyyy gorgeous, listen it’s gonna be a little later than we planned I’ve just gotta film one more scene then we can go”, catching the mouthed sorry at the end. Smiling understandingly at him you shrug your shoulders.

“Oh no problemo honey, want me to stay or I can meet you at the club?” secretly crossing your fingers that they’d say to meet you at the club.

“Ah no it’s cool if you stay, right Val? Y/n can stay for the last scene?” Bugger. Turning your winning smile up at the infamous Valentino only to see their stare was focused on you already with an menacing smile pulling his face into a sinister expression which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“Ah the famous Y/n, Angel talks about you all the time – don’t you baby! Course you can stay and watch. What about if you participate as well, I could get you a job princessa, with those legs, boobs and that pout you are a star waiting to happen. I could get a contract written up in seconds if you want-“He pulls a deep drag from his cigarette and blows it all around so you three were in a cloud of hazy red smoke. Holding back a cough you try to keep the smile on your lips.

“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but I am happy with my job at the moment but as soon as I want a change in career, I’ll let you know”, I reply to the Overlord. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Valentino’s anger was legendary. To refuse him was to insult him. And you had done all that within a few moments of meeting him. Plus being close to Angel Dust was another factor against you – he was so jealous over Angel.

His smirk grew as he gazed over your outfit. Well, a smirk was better than shouting, right?

“Shame. You could be a star,” another drag of his cigarette before shrugging you off and directing Angel back to the stage. Quickly winking at the spider, you make your way over to a few chairs that were against the wall. Shrugging your coat off you turn to see a few creeps eyeing you up, bloody perverts. Baring your fangs at them you sit down and yank your phone out from your purse.  

A sigh leaves your lips, crossing your leg over the other, you peruse Sinstagram while trying to block out the sounds coming from Angel and the other demons and sinners in the scene. Checking on the progress of a few photos of the outfit that you shared earlier of what you were wearing tonight which you had tagged in Velvette as she was the designer of your dress: a tight black dress with stripes of neon pink, ruffles of the neon around the off-shoulder neckline and other intricate details – it reminded you of Marilyn Monroes pink dress, so you had saved up for months to buy it. The almost velvet material clung to your curves in the most delicious way and the colours just accentuated your hair, skin, and eyes. If no one could tell - you just loved pink and again it helped the Bimbo image you put across.

Brushing the waves of hair out of your face you look up and again see a certain Overlord’s stare focused on you, his own phone clutched in his hand. Careful not to challenge him by looking at him head on you keep your gaze soft and lowered.  The issue with Valentino was he didn’t always accept no as an answer. And you were so not ready to become a porn star. To be honest since arriving in Hell you hadn’t even entertained any one in your bed. More concerned with getting somewhere safe to live, safe(ish) to work and try not to get mauled, raped or murdered every day seemed to take up your energy. Which is why Angel wanted to go out tonight – to try and get you laid. Chuckling softly as you remembered his horrified face when you said you hadn’t had sex in over a year you let your violet gaze glance over to him. Wincing slightly at the position he was in at the moment, which really could not be comfortable, you let your attention go back to your phone ignoring both the Overlord and Angel as a slight vibrate notified you that a certain Vee had liked your post.

Your mouth opens in shock when you see THE Velvette had liked your photo. Heart racing a little you couldn’t control the smile that stretched across your lips, holding in the little squeal you desperately wanted to let out you settled for giving a little excited wiggle in your seat. Or you were until a shadow encased you. Looking up you lock eyes with the main V. Vox. Uh oh. “And who is this lovely lady, Val?”

Sooooo ... for a first chapter what did ya thinkkkkkk?

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin angel oc #hazbin angeldust #vox x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox x valentino x velvette #vox x valentino x velvette x reader

[meowmeowriley]

Changes: A Poll-Fic

"Remember, you're not supposed to be here, so don't do anything stupid." Love you too, Price. The Captain had caved. He'd been begging to be part of this mission since they'd gotten the lead.

Soap reached up, rubbing his gloved fingers across the teeth of his mask. The mask he'd stolen from Ghost's room. Gaz had found him clutching it, dried mixture of tears and bile coating his cheeks, and forehead pressed to the porcelain throne. He'd been banned from drinking for the foreseeable future. That was the only stupid thing he'd done. Ghost wore a mask, Ghost only spoke when he had to, Ghost was hard on the rookies, and nobody questioned his mental state. But they did, didn't they? Well Soap didn't. And nobody needed to question Soap, he was fine.

"I wanna be like you when I grow up."

"You wanna be better than me, Johnny."

Well to be better than him, first he had to be more like him. So he'd donned Ghost's mask, to better embody the man's stoicism and presence. Definitely not as a way to hide his chapped cheeks and the bags under his eyes. He'd painted it red, wore a jaw print bandana. Different. Better. Yeah.

Price had finally caved to Soap's insistence he be part of this OP, but issued his warnings. "I know you don't need to be told, but I'm saying it anyway." He'd warned. "They've had him for eight months. Torture changes people, he may not be the same."

Of course he wasn't going to be the fucking same. He didn't need to be the same, he just needed to be alive.

Ghost never really spoke about his past, only left little hints here and there, but Soap wasn't dumb. He'd been through it before. Ghost could handle the torture, and Soap could handle the aftermath.

"I'm fine." He finally answered. "It'll be by the books, Captain." As if anything they did was ever 'by the books.' Price accepted his answer, though he didn't look convinced. It was just the three of them, with Laswell listening in. Gaz was in charge of collecting data on the bio weapon that was rumored to be here, Soap was in charge of the search and rescue mission, and Price was overwatch as the two Sergeants made their way in.

The trio hopped out of the truck, and Price slapped the side, sending it away. Soap and Gaz nodded to one another before splitting up to approach the building from different angles. Price silently made his way to higher ground.

The trek was agonizing, moreso because Soap found himself feeling more impatient than usual. Every time he had to lay low and wait for a patrol to pass he could hear the sand slowly falling, trickling away in the hourglass that was the rest of Ghost's life.

"You sure know how to keep things interesting, Johnny." Ghost had smiled at him, rare that he didn't have his mask, but then again, who other than Soap would challenge the Ghost to strip poker? And who other than Soap would cheat be really really good at strip poker? So good as to force Ghost to choose between his pants and his mask, the last two articles of clothing he had on. Soap himself had only one sock, and his jumper on, choosing to doff his pants so he could keep access to the cards in his sleeves. The  unpleasant cold of the metal chair against his junk was worth it, just to see the surprising decision on Ghost's part to lose the mask and not the underwear.

"Aye, like to shake things up, Sir." He'd said with a wink as he laid yet another winning hand down, only slightly supplemented by his sleeve stash.

He was certainly always one to shake things up. Here he was, itching to shake that damn hourglass up. He'd shake it, flip it upside down, bash it over someone's head and stuff the sand down their fucking throat, if it meant he'd get more time with the enigmatic phantom that had haunted his mind since that shitshow in Mexico.

Price gave the signal, they crawled forward once more.

"This is takin' longer than a constipated snail takin' a shit." He grit out into comms once the coast was clear.

"Soap, while it's nice to hear your voice again, one more quip outta you and I'm pulling you. Watch it." Laswell had gotten the cold shoulder, she'd fed Ghost bad intel. He blamed her, he didn't, couldn't blame her. She was just as worried. Probably.

He just needed to get Ghost back. Repay his debt. Ghost had saved him back then, after all. That's what this was. An eye for an eye, but in a positive way. They were good for eachother. Fixed eachothers problems. Complimented one another, personality wise. That's all.

He crept into the building, silent and unnoticed.

They didn't have much on the layout, just the outer perimeter, so they were going in blind. That didn't bother Soap, he was thriving for the first time in months. He finally had something to do other than run the rookies into the ground.

He dodged patrols, picked off the ones he could get away with had to, using the knife he'd kicked so long ago after Ghost had left it behind.

He found some unlit stairs leading into a basement they hadn't known existed. If I were keeping an incredibly dangerous prisoner, now where would I keep him? Three sets of teeth, plastic, cloth and bone, were bared towards the darkness. He couldn't help it, he felt giddy. He tried to quell his excitement, didn't need to make any mistakes now.

He made his way, thankful for his NVG's as there were no lights, even after descending the stairs. The hallway he entered had doors along one side, nothing much in the rooms, but he cleared each one as he passed. No fuck ups.

Near the end, he found a door with seven locks. Suspicious. Good. Suspicious was good, here. The other doors had been wood, dry rotted and deteriorating, this one was metal.

His eyes itched. He flipped up his NVG's.

Curiously, whenever he blinked, Soap could've sworn he could see symbols on the door, but they'd disappear the longer he looked. He'd blink, a sickening yellow circle with lines and symbols within would appear just as he opened his eyes, but faded so quickly, he couldn't convince himself it had ever even been there. The harder he stared the more the door looked perfectly normal, if you ignored all the locks.

Many many thanks to @stuffireadandenjoy for brainstorming with me on how to make this poll fic work, and to @resident-idiot-simp for being my beta, as always ❤❤❤

#poll fic #choose your own adventure #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #tumblr polls #call of duty #modern warfare #fanfic #fanfic wips #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ao3 #cod mw2 #cyoa fic #cyoa poll