#but since the moment you hit GO you have not given this poor kid a fucking break and at this point I am on my knees begging

[scribesynnox]

Ahh, the infamous Danny Phantom fic, Mortified by marsalias.

Aka

Oh my god I’m 164 chapters into here and Danny STILL hasn’t caught a break yet, please please, PLEASE. Everyone. Can we PLEASE stop attacking and hurting Danny already? Oh my god.

#danny phantom #dp fic: mortified #I love this fic so so much #it lives in my head rent free #but oh my god marsalias when is this poor kid gonna catching a fuckin BREAK??? #the lore! the worldbuilding! the people! #ITS ALL SO FUCKING GOOD!!! #but since the moment you hit GO you have not given this poor kid a fucking break and at this point I am on my knees begging #he has had not one! not three! but SO MANY god damn attacks! #it’s just one thing after another for poor Danny #my posts

[solarmorrigan]

For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?

Thank you!

Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!

[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]

-

When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.

It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.

So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–

Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.

“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”

It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.

“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”

And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.

The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.

Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.

“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.

Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).

“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”

Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.

“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.

Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.

Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.

It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.

“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.

“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.

They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.

He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).

Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”

Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.

“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”

A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.

“Steve, I’m so sorry–”

“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.

“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.

“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”

“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”

Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.

Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).

“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”

For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.

“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.

“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.

“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.

“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”

“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.

“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.

Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”

#221expressions #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #transmasc steve harrington #stranger things #does this make a whole lot of sense? probably not! #is it some really soft hurt/comfort though? yes. #tw outing #tw transphobia #solar wrote #answers from solar #this is the last fic for this round of prompts but I'll have a few more soon I hope?

[cheralith]

what happens in gunsmoke... — 「 knives (nai) x reader 」

content warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns used (i think), reader wears makeup, one-sided jealousy, suggestive but not nsfw material, a really poor attempt at hints of comedy, explicit alcohol consumption

contains ; college!au, modern!au, reader and nai have known each other since childhood, some wolfwood x reader, "nai" is used instead of knives and is used as a nickname

word count ; 7.0k

notes ; heavily inspired by @demxnscous's magnificent college!au involving hundred spoons himself! highly, highly recommend reading all the blurbs involving it if you want to see nai being a foolishly and obliviously in love and some other comical headcanons!

“I’ll pay you five bucks to come with us.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

Vash pouts and his eyes droop at Nai’s nth refusal to go with his brother and his friends to the new nightclub that had just opened on the corner of uptown that’s been all the hype nowadays across campus. Vash has heard about the throwback hits the DJ plays, the flashing lights that shine just right, the unique drinks that were offered there—he’d be insane not to go on a relieving Friday night after a week of midterms and essays. It wasn't unusual of the spiky-haired Saverem to go socialize and go all out with his closest friends as a way to relax and relieve some tension.

The story is the opposite for the other Saverem, however. Nai prefers to stay inside and be mellowed out with his usual oversized hooded snuggie and some warm tea, perhaps even binging a new show. Isolation wasn’t foreign to him either, and if anything, it’s what he would want on a Friday evening instead of being around sweaty, booze-scented college kids amidst a darkened club with flashing lights. Why would he bother with all-too-loud, outdated music with much too intimate lyrics when he could be savoring melodic Fauré’s barcarolles, instead? The answer seems too obvious.

“You can’t even buy a shot for that much in most clubs in the area,” Nai scoffs, taking off his grandpa-styled rectangular reading glasses and staring dully at him, not phased at Vash’s pleading puppy eyes. “You’re either gonna amp up the cash or come up with another dumb bribe to get me going to that madhouse with you and your little friends.” 

Vash whines, slinking his tall self onto the couch. “You know I don’t have much to spare on me, Nai…”

“And yet instead of using that money to buy yourself a new jacket,” Nai eyes Vash’s worn-out crimson jacket their mom made for them when they were children that hangs by a thin thread on the coat rack; Nai feels as if that jacket has seen better days and even impressed it made it this far in its life. “You choose to spend it on a one-time trip at a stuffy nightclub, instead.”

“It’s not about the money, though!” he retaliates, sitting up. “It’s about the memories and friends we make on the way!” he singsongs.

Nai grimaces at Vash’s cheekiness. 

“I’m not going. That’s final,” he says sternly, shoving his glasses on his face again and resuming his book.

A thick, uncomfortable silence fills the Saverem residence, only broken by the ticking of the clock and Nai’s occasional page turning. Vash breathes out a stubborn huff—he thinks his older brother has been locked up in the house too much for his own nowadays, even refusing to go out for a casual dine-in at nearby restaurants. Some people even ask about Nai’s whereabouts, to which Vash can only shrug and give the same reply: “Didn’t feel like coming.” given with a soft and dismal half-smile.

Vash studies Nai from the corner of his eye. He’s tried money, he’s tried bribing him with free food, he’s tried exchanging favors like doing his homework for him, but all have failed miserably and have fallen victim to Nai’s disturbed looks that just scream, “NO.”

So he pauses and thinks deeply for a moment. What’s something that could possibly change Nai’s mind about finally leaving their apartment that could also simultaneously let him let loose for a change, give those stiff nerves a chance to unravel and be free for a change? 

His mind flutters from option to option, all of them dying in the same instance they’re taken up inside his head… until…

Perhaps it wouldn’t be something that convinces him, but someone. Vash’s eyes slyly go to stare at Nai directly, a large grin on his face that uneases Nai ever so slightly because he knows something mischievous is brewing behind that smile. 

“What…?” he mutters, breaking eye contact. 

“You know,” Vash murmurs as he sits up, stretching, “There’s a bunch of guys that we know that are going, so you don’t have to go out of your way to meet new people.”

Nai raises a brow. He’s not too impressed at Vash’s last-minute attempt to try and get him on his feet. He doesn’t even like the majority of Vash’s companions. “So?”

Vash begins to stalk off to his bedroom to start getting ready to go to the club, anticipating Wolfwood's car that’ll pick him up in an hour or so. “Meaning Nico is coming, Meryl is coming, Milly is coming, Livio, Legato, Elendira… they’re all tagging along with us,” Vash says with a twirl of his hand, feeling Nai’s eyes dagger into his back. 

“Oh, and I also forgot…” Right before he closes his door, however, Vash glances back at his brother, stating the one thing that he knows for a fact will get Nai up and going. 

“(Y/N) will be there, too.”

Nai can already feel sick. He can feel the bass of a song thunder from the parking lot as he drearily exits Wolfwood’s car, staring up at the flashy neon sign that screams “GUNSMOKE” in bright green text. There’s a vast array of people lined up outside, all tittering with excitement at the fresh nightclub that’s finally replaced the dingy bar, Jeneora Rock, that most people go to for a casual night out. But the bar had much too many rules to abide by because of its nonsensical history with the nearby college students, limiting what could and couldn’t be done inside. Now with little to no restriction in the new nightclub, who knows what could happen?

The unknown is what Nai fears the most, really.

He doesn’t even remember why he decided to go here on a whim, he thinks to himself as his feet carry him to the back of the line while Vash and Wolfwood talk noisily amongst each other, sulking behind them. He stares at himself in the semi-reflective surface of the window as the line moves up inch by inch, thinking he might’ve overdone himself. Nai thinks there’s too much gel in his hair, thinks that the cologne he spritzed on was too much, thinks that the Vash’s short-sleeved button-up he borrowed is too bold and a little tight, even, just barely squeezing around the biceps that blue geometric sleeve tattoos wrap around. His fingers begin to fiddle with the opened V of it, attempting to clasp in more buttons to hide his chest, but Wolfwood smacks his hand away from them. 

“Let ‘em breathe, man,” Wolfwood states, gesturing to his own exposed pectorals that almost rival in size to Nai’s. “You worked hard for them—don’t think I haven’t seen ya at the gym. Y’always hide them with those loose ass sweaters, so show those girls off for once.” He allusively cups one of them in his hands, raising his brows.

“I think I’ll decide that for myself, thanks,” a blushing Nai snaps at him and manages to close up a button that hides a sly inch of his chest, though frustration follows suit when it pops open again thanks to their prominence. His jaw tightens. He’s already in for a rough night.

It doesn’t take Nai long to regret his decision to tag along with his brother from the first step he takes into the nightclub, already overwhelmed by the thick air of sweaty bodies and dazzling lights that sparkle all across the dance floor. He especially doesn’t like the gleaming, large sign that reads, “What happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke.” straight across a wall that seems to be eyeing him with mischief.

The music is significantly better than most clubs and bars have to offer, but the volume and bass is still too plentiful for his liking. Nai is only halfway across the nightclub, he thinks that he could probably make a run for it when Vash’s back is turned and just walk home… maybe hitch an Uber if he’s feeling lucky. 

His second guesses, however, all manage to dissipate when he spots the one thing that managed to lure him into this hellhole in the first place.

Arctic blue eyes grow hazy when they land on a familiar figure adorned in a red top with a heart-shaped chest cutout in the middle, a pair of curve-hugging, white corduroy bell bottoms and a crescent moon buckle belt to match. Nai swallows thickly as he watches you listen intently to Meryl’s story about the latest professor-student scandal, his chest growing a little tight at the sound of your soft giggle even through the thunderous music—he’d be stupid to think it’s Vash’s shirt. It grows fuzzy by the second the more he stares at you, you still not noticing the three newest additions to the nearly full semicircle table. He picks out the smaller details of your appearance from his spot—the moon-shaped earrings match with the hardware of your belt buckle, he notices, as well as the glitter that sprinkles across your eyelids that’s framed by a razor-sharp eyeliner that rounds your eyes just right. Your lips, too, look so full with that shade of dark red lip gloss that stretches into a grin. Were they always that plump? Did they always have the bitten look to them? Why were they—

“You’re staring too much.”

Nai’s vision suddenly clears up the hazy background of the nightclub and his hearing sharpens to the music again with Vash’s voice sending chills up his spine. Vash’s lips splay a smirk that basically says he’s won in this little game of tug-of-war—for today at least. Wolfwood, too, doesn’t take long to imitate his best friend.

“There you guys are!” Milly’s voice echoes. They all go to whip their heads around and face her, a hand gesturing to them to come over to their table. “Hurry! Come!”

Another rock-hard swallow inches itself down Nai’s throat when your gaze lands on him, and he swears your eyes had grown a little larger at the sight of his attire that was very much not like his usual wear—but it’s hard to see with the darkness of the club, he can’t get his hopes up so quickly. Vash and Wolfwood greet everyone with equal fervor, Nai quietly following behind them. 

There’s an empty spot that sits right to the left of you, your eyes meet Nai’s and a silent exchange between you and him talk through stares and blinks. It’s a hesitant exchange of “No one’s sitting here right?” from his side, but he can’t exactly decipher if you’re exemplifying “It’s yours for the taking.” or “You can sit here… if you want.” Two messages with contrasting tones, Nai can’t let himself fall victim to a possible miscommunication.

But from the way you scooch closer to Milly, who’s the only other person next to you, Nai decides you’re letting him gracefully take what belongs to him…

… that is until a certain ravenette moves ever so slightly swifter than him and plops himself right next to you.

“Ah, shit,” Wolfwood expresses, manspreading his legs so there’s little to no room on the rest of the bench. “Sorry man, were ya about to sit here? My bad, but today was leg day at the gym. Hope ya can understand.” An impish smirk toys on Wolfwood’s lips as they dangle a cigarette almost mockingly. He gestures to the more gracious space on the other side of the table, where Vash pats down a spot for Nai to sit, Wolfwood’s antics going unnoticed by him.

You take the cigarette out of his mouth, your fingertips just barely feathering over Wolfwood’s lips. “Not here, mister. There’s a strict no-smoking policy here.”

Nai can only grimace and sit stiffly next to his brother, his eyes never leaving Wolfwood’s playfully wicked ones. 

With hardened icy orbs, he closely examines the sight across from him as you and Wolfwood exchange words, catching up for the evening and laughing nonchalantly, something Nai was never to particularly do as easily as him, something he was never able to get the hang of. A few drinks that the people had ordered earlier come by, and the veins in his eyes nearly pop when Wolfwood reaches over and sips your mango and dragonfruit cocktail from the same straw your lips had touched. 

“Hey!” you exclaim. “At least ask permission first, Nico.”

Nico.

That nickname that you affectionately give Wolfwood sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Nai’s ears, or like a fork on a ceramic plate. He twinges, his neck cracking menacingly from the reaction.

Wolfwood smacks his lips, fully examining the flavor before complimenting it. “Y’got good taste in liquor, sweetheart. Gimme some more.” 

“Absolutely not,” you huff. “This cost me too much, go get your own.”

Wolfwood’s arm suddenly lazily plops itself across your shoulders, pulling you (and the drink) into him closer. “Now, don’t be like that. Do some charity work for this old man. C’mon, didn’t mama ever tell ya to share?”

Nai’s eyes narrow behind the cocktail menu as he watches you blithely attempt to wriggle out of Wolfwood’s grasp, both of you exchanging inaudible laughs with each other. You sigh and cave in to his stubbornness and Nai miserably watches as you indirectly kiss Wolfwood through the shared straw that switches between your lips and his, you being completely oblivious to the gesture.

He looks over to the doors. The exit sign looks deliriously tempting right now.

For Nai, the night is quiet, something that isn’t a stranger to him when he’s around a group of people that he isn’t used to. For everyone else, however, it’s rowdy and boisterous and exciting. Adrenaline and alcohol is the only thing that everyone knows of. A song would come by and people would be racing to the dancefloor, flooding it with slurred-out lyrics and stimulating dance moves. Various glass and food trays have splattered themselves over the table, and Nai himself can feel a hefty buzz from the alcohol he’s consumed beginning to kick in.

His vision has finally adjusted to the darkness and he can see you much more clearly now. You’re envisioned in his sights just chattering aimlessly with Meryl, you three being the only ones seated still at the table as everyone else dances their night away—it’s then that Nai realizes that you haven’t gone out to the dancefloor like he has, yet, seeing as how you lacked the sweat and exhaustion everyone else was ornate in. 

It’s also then that Nai realizes he still hasn’t said a single word to you tonight—the one person that he managed to fix his appearance for.

He’d never admit that though, he thinks to himself as he downs another shot, he’d rather slit his own throat than willingly admit he attempted to fix up his appearance for your sake. Tongue hissing through his teeth at the sting of it, he blinks slowly at you when Meryl finally escorts herself out to go back to the dancefloor.

“You’re not gonna join them?” Nai finally begins, the hesitation in him hours beforehand suddenly dissipating as the alcohol reaches his system.

From your own reaction, it seemed as if you didn’t expect Nai to talk to you first, especially in such a social setting. Your mouth opens, but no words exit your lips for a few seconds before you softly smile and shake your head, “They have yet to play a song I actually want to dance to,” you murmur with your gaze turning affectionately to your friends. 

“So what’d you even pay your money for here?” Nai snorts. “Just to drink and eat? Do that at Jeneora Rock, then,” he mutters.

You narrow your gaze at him suspiciously through the frame of your drink, sipping on it ardently. “That’s rich coming from you, hm?” you test, raising a brow. “If anything, I should be saying that to you, Mr. Shut-In.”

A scoff brushes through his lips. “I was dragged here by a certain someone, if you haven’t realized yet. I’m not here voluntarily. Why would I be?” 

“It’s still quite odd to me, though,” you chuckle. “You’re quite the stubborn one, how ever did Vash manage to drag you out of your man-cave that you call your room? Truly is a mystery.”

Your tongue is just as sharp as ever—just how Nai likes it. Loves it, even. Maybe it’s because you’re the only person that returns his energy back with equal zeal, or maybe he just merely laps up any bit of attention you give him. He’d rather be tortured than admit it, but there’s that certain sting that he lavishes in at your insults. It’s the same sting that mimics itself in the alcohol he consumes ever so slowly… perilous, but addicting. Dare he say it’s the internal masochistic tendencies he lets out once in a while that makes him tempted to lure them more out of you.

Opportunity arises and he replaces Milly’s spot on the curved bench. It’s his turn to let a breathy laugh escape him, not sure whether it’s because of amusement from your words or because he’s amused at his own out-of-the-ordinary behavior tonight. “Figure that out by yourself,” he replies coolly, his fingers fiddling with the shot glass. “Since you’re so smart.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, a faux gasp escaping you. “Was that a compliment from the one and only Nai Saverem? Should I be graced with such honor?”

He sneers lightly with a roll of his eyes following shortly. “Savor it while you can, because I’m not handing any more out.”

You feign a light pout with your lips, and Nai swears that the small head tilt you give him will lead to his demise. A swift glance at them reveals that even in the dimness, there’s a hypnotizing gloss left upon them, but Nai can’t tell if it’s because of the shared saliva between you and a specific smoker or if it’s just from all the alcohol left on your lips. Do they taste like the mango dragonfruit cocktail from earlier, he wonders, or do they now taste of a mixture of—

He blinks and returns his eyes to yours, a curious glaze still running over them. A poor attempt at distraction for himself is made by pouring two shots for you and him. 

“Oh, boo,” you sigh as you gracefully take one of the shots given by him before clinking your glass together with his. “What a waste.”

A blonde eyebrow raises itself up as you and him down your shots together. “Waste of what?”

You smack your lips from the sting of the shot. “Waste of time getting ready,” you shrug as you examine your painted fingernails. Your eyes suddenly fleet to his from a side view, and Nai swears that there’s the lift of a disappointed smile creeping on your face. “I got dolled up for no reason, then.”

And it’s there where his nerves go haywire for a split second. Nai is about to shoot back with something along the lines of wanting you to elaborate, wanting to know what the hell you meant by that, but he’s cut off at the sudden boom of the bass and beginning lyrics that makes your head whip to the dance floor. A celebratory shout rings through the nightclub at the song, per usual, with the additions of some whistles and woops from your friends. 

“C’mon, (Y/N), this is your song!” Vash shouts, motioning his hand to join you with everyone else. Everyone else chimes in with their attempts to woo you in with them. 

A short burst of laughter leaves your vodka-stained lips before you lick them, shrugging your shoulders again in fake-doubt. Panic shoots through Nai oh so suddenly. His plans to gain some alone time with you are ruined by the song that booms through the speakers. Quickly, he pours two shots into the two spare shot glasses and shoves one of them to your hand to attempt to distract you. He’s about to protest against you joining them, but a certain black-haired bastard cuts through one again.

“Promiscuous girl… wherever you are~” Wolfwood sings roughly, approaching you with his hand out rather princely. “C’mon, now, you heard ‘em. Time for ya to shine.”

“Dunno, the floor looks pretty packed…” a soft tease creeps through your tone. You share a glance with Nai and you’re a little taken aback by the irritation that he doesn’t try to hide anymore towards Wolfwood’s consistent cockblocking given how furrowed his brows are.

And it clicks to you suddenly—as to why Nai, the man who appears outside of campus once in a blue moon—was here in the first place. Why he wanted to sit next to you, why his eyes were consistently on you throughout the night, why he even came to an event like this. It drips with a one-sided acknowledgement, and your tongue darts out to lick your lips once more just before you down your handed shot for an extra confidence boost and take Wolfwood’s calloused hand. You might as well toy with him now that he’s here.

“Fuck it. Let’s go, Nico.”

Nai twitches again at the nickname.

“These for us?” Wolfwood snatches the spare shot Nai poured for himself on the table. “Thanks!” With him downing Nai’s shot meant for himself, Wolfwood shoves the shot glass back into Nai’s hand and escorts you to the dancefloor with his hand on the small of your back. 

But not without throwing a smirk over his shoulder to Nai.

Nai’s blood is about to boil to demonic temperatures whilst he watches a rare side of you expose right in front of him. He thinks the sight should be reserved just for him; hips swaying, head thrown back to relish the rhythm, lips syncing to the lyrics. But no, you’re there for all eyes to see and admire, especially a specific flirt’s.

Wolfwood trades the lyrics on and off with you, taking the role of the male voice in the song as his hands run down from your waist to your hips. Your back touches his front chest, lip bitten as he whispers the lyrics into your ear. His ringed fingers teasingly drum themselves on your curves, and there’s a desire embedded in them to go just ever so slightly lower on your body. A flash of red races through Nai’s vision when Wolfwood gently pulls your body towards him, unaware of a pair of eyes that carefully watch his reaction at the intimacy you and Wolfwood share.

“I want you on my team…” Wolfwood mutters hotly into your ear. His teeth get tempted by the shell of your ear that almost asks to be pierced by his sharpened canines, and he draws them slowly closer to it to mark his territory, a tongue running over them hungrily.

But you spin around and push him away teasingly, leaving the stubbled man tempted. 

“So does everybody else,” you chant with a cheeky smile before you fend off to dance with the others.

Nai is almost proud from the way you just about make yourself out of reach for Wolfwood. He watches as Wolfwood pokes his tongue in his cheek from what seems to be… frustration, perhaps? A flush of amusement goes by as quick as it comes in Nai’s head. The ravenette man merely shakes his head with a chuckle before resuming his antics with the others, but Nai notices how his tawny eyes don’t exactly leave you when you indulge with the others—much like his own sky blue ones.

The song ends with a riotous cheer through the dancefloor that haunts Nai’s ears. Now the only one isolated at the table, he can only watch from a distance as you smile widely and thank everyone for dancing with you. His heart lifts from its place in a pit at the sight of your footsteps beginning to come back to the table—to come back to him, but you’re yanked back by Milly and Vash when another familiar song seeps through the speakers. Wolfwood, however, manages to return you to him as a Pitbull song bellows from all sides, and his grip on you seems more stubborn, more resistant this time. Your chests are dangerously close to each other and the mere centimeters of distance between you two makes Nai’s jaw grit with aggravation. 

Wolfwood mouths to you some suggestive lyrics that make you raise a brow and grin at him. Nai hates, despises, even when he shortly follows up with his fingers close the distance between your bodies and whispers promiscuously, “And baby, I'ma make you feel so good, tonight,” into your ear.

With a gasp, a shy shiver runs up your spine at his breath so close on your skin. Nai’s grip on the shot glass is so dangerously tight, the glass threatens to self-destruct in his to-be-bleeding palm if it doesn’t loosen up any time soon. But it doesn’t seem like his grip is going to weaken and if anything, it strengthens in power when Wolfwood’s teeth go to finally bite the shell of your ear tauntingly, whetted canines glinting with deviltry back to Nai.

Nai is seeing red—angry red—like a bull to a scarlet cape. A single crack crevices itself in the shot glass. He slams it down on the table at the peak of his torment and stands up.

“Nico!” you exclaim with a strained throat at his gesture when he pulls away. You nervously laugh and create a space between you and Wolfwood, who merely replies with a chuckle and a bounce of his shoulders at your embarrassed reaction. “That was—!”

Amusement diffuses across his features, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just playin’ with ya, darlin’.”

“Mind if I come through.” 

Nai’s deadpanned voice interrupts, and it’s toned more as a declaration more than a suggestion. It hasn’t even been a minute, yet he already acknowledges the attention that’s beginning to bring a certain spotlight on him. But it isn’t just his voice that makes heads turn, it’s Nai’s presence itself that makes people all around a little stunned. And Nai knows it, he can feel the stares of not only Vash’s friends, but people all over wondering who the mysterious platinum blonde was on the dance floor whose aura just oozes a certain enigma. 

“Nai?” Vash is the first to question what on earth the Knives Saverem is doing on a dance floor, amidst a crowd that isn’t designated for his liking. “You gonna dance your heart now for once? Don’t be shy now, what happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke!”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Nai huffs as a response to Vash’s delight. His impassiveness doesn’t waver his twin’s smile, though. “I’m not here to dance or sing or whatever.”

Wolfwood goes to give him a wily look, already knowing the answer to his upcoming question. “Then whatcha here for, big guy?”

You flinch at the way Nai cracks his neck to look at you, his brows furrowing in dismay and it truly doesn’t take long for Vash and everyone else who gazes upon Nai in wonder to realize why the reserved and solitary older twin is here. 

Because he’s here for you. 

Ignoring the way the tightness in his pants form when he subtly wonders upon your lustrous face from the perspire and heat from the body heats (he’s trying unnecessarily hard to avoid looking at your chest window that is glazed with crystalline sweat), he grabs your wrist and only yanks you from the crowd and a smirking Wolfwood, your complaints and pleas falling deaf on his ears.

“Nai?!” you yelp as he leads you down a skinny hallway made up of scarce couples eating each others’ faces off. “What are you d—hey! Answer me!”

Nai hisses you to shut up after a lengthy, boiling silence, to which you sullenly obey to your own wits end. The hallway seems endless, almost, if it weren’t for the emergency exit flashing in the furious red that had filtered across Nai’s vision for a brief moment earlier. 

Now it’s clear to him his true motivation for coming to this inferno of liquor and lust between strangers. The thought of you possibly meddling with someone unknown makes his chest cringe with a flicker of resentment, your body being pressed up against someone nameless is just an upcoming recipe for his own disaster. A gross taste on his tongue suddenly forms when he imagines you entwined with someone’s limbs hotly in the middle of a crowd with intentful eyes that could possibly land on you and your being.

A single bathroom lies at the near end of the hallway and Nai angrily raps his knuckles on it before bursting in when no reply echoes from the other side after only a mere second.

Wolfwood’s younger brother, Livio, stills idly in front of the toilet, and stares directly at you and Nai. While you knew he wasn’t a man of many words, an odd utterance escapes his lips obviously indicating confusion. 

Nai groans and juts his thumb behind him. “Get out.”

“But—”

“Get out, brat.”

Livio stands significantly taller than Nai, despite both men being over a hefty six feet, but Nai’s gaze toward him shoots nothing less than daggers and it’s enough to make the nearly seven-foot man scurry away from the bathroom like a frightened field mouse.

You scoff at him, pitying poor Livio as Nai slams and locks the bathroom door shut. “You could’ve waited for a few minutes for him to do his business.”

“What the hell was that?” Nai spits venomously as he ignores your previous statement. For any person, that icy glare that he currently spots at you would make anyone fall to their knees and do his every bidding. But for you, it stirs up a sudden excitement in your stomach.

“What was what?” you question innocently, eyes fiending a fake confusion.

Nai goes to let out a brief, amused laugh that has traces of spite embedded into it. It’s a mocking sort of laugh—one that powers over your faux ignorance. 

“Don’t play coy with me,” he mutters as he drags a watch-embedded hand across his face, the silver of it glinting at you with temptation. His mind replays the intimacy shared between you and Wolfwood, how there was no gap to bridge between you and him and how his teeth had pierced a piece of him onto you. Malice flickers through his face when the imagery becomes too vivid. “What the fuck was that with you and him?”

“Who? Oh, Nico?”

Disgust fills Nai’s mouth.

“Don’t call him that around me,” Nai states sternly. His body begins to mirror how Wolfwood’s body was acting towards you on the dancefloor, except in the bathroom, you’re all for him to take in. No other bodies, no suffocating heat, no overlight head—just another neon light glowing brightly in the darkness with just enough illumination to bask only you and Nai in a chilled, misty purple fog. “You know that I hate that name.”

“It doesn’t bother you when Vash or Livio says it,” you retaliate with a suspicious look glaring in your eyes. “So why am I the odd one out, huh?”

“Because—” Nai’s voice falls short. He grits his teeth in agitation and to seal the true reason as to why he hates it when your voice specifically calls Wolfwood that stupid name. “‘Cause… ‘cause we’re no longer ten years old, so it’s about time you stop calling him by that childish nickname.”

You let out an obnoxious laugh, obviously poorly humored at Nai’s reasoning. Him and you know that you’ve called Wolfwood “Nico” for ages, that the nickname is older than a decade and giving it up would be out of the blue and uncharacteristic of you.

“If that’s the case,” you mutter as Nai cages you in between the cold bathroom wall and his body, your gazes challenging each other. It takes you an incredible amount of strength to avoid inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne that you’ve savored in before and will savor again and again, and also to avoid questioning the sudden get-up that reveals his skin like never before to others, but seems all too familiar to you. “Then does that mean I should start calling Milly ‘Millicent?’ Should I start calling Vash ‘Valentinez?’ Or perhaps… since nicknames are so childish to you… should I start calling you ‘Knives’ again?” you eye him with darkened eyes, searching for any illicit reaction.

Nai fights the urge to grimace at the strangeness of his real name falling from your lips by pressing his palms deeper into the grout of the tiled bathroom. Anyone that wasn’t you or Vash were only permitted to call him by his true name, that his own nickname given by Vash as children was reserved for people that knew him from a young age—one of them being you. “That… that isn’t what I meant.”

“But you don’t mind, right?” you press. “You want me to call Nico by his proper name? Fine. Then I’ll do it with you too, Knives.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek, rolling his neck out to ease the exhaustion given to him by tonight and you before he brings it back to face you properly. Now instead of his usual frown that’s grimaced with annoyance, there’s now a smirk toying on his own lips; and it’s one that mirrors your own to your own hesitation.

“Funny you say that,” he murmurs, gently pushing one of his legs between yours and nestling his knee between them. He scans your face and satisfaction laces itself in his being as you stiffen as his gesture, letting out a small exclamation. “Because I don’t really think that name sounds too nice when you'll scream it in bed, just like how you did the other night.”

Your eyes widen at his husked tone, taken aback. Another yelp passes through your lips as Nai lifts his knee teasingly higher and the slight force of it makes you grasp onto his exposed, tattooed arm for proper balance. “Wait… Nai—”

“Oh, dear, I thought my name was Knives, though?” he taunts and puts an end to your cockiness. “Mmh, I guess it doesn’t sound too bad. I suppose I like the sound of ‘Oh, god, Knives, fuck me harder!’” He slurs, mimicking your voice. Your mouth goes agape at his poor imitation of your own breathy moans he’s heard you echo time after time. “Or perhaps ‘Knives, I’m sooo close… don’t st—”

It’s your turn to hiss at him to shut up and silence his lips with your own palm despite no one being around you. A bolt of fear runs through your nerves at the sight of Nai’s eyes entwined with a hushed craving that only you know can suffice it. Your brows knit together and Nai’s smirk peeks through the side of your hand, making your eye twitch at his arrogance that’s infected you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whisper hotly.

Nai takes your hand away from his lips, a firm grasp around your wrist. “What? All I’m doing is just repeating what you said… what was it? Not even two nights ago?”

You bare your teeth in an attempt to hide the rising heat which begins to creep up your skin at the mention of you and Nai’s somewhat disorderly relationship with each other. 

It confuses the both of you—you’re not exactly friends-with-benefits, but you and him tiptoe along the border of what a possible relationship could be like and it’s you and him alive by the day. The only way you and Nai cope with the big pot of feelings boiling in as one in a cauldron is nonsense is through a physical intimacy shared with each other, one that tells the other that no one else gets to have you and him except each other—at least for that tumultuous night tangled in each other’s limbs because neither party wants to share their feelings first. It’s a current deciphering between whether you and Nai assume it’s a weakness to admit your heart, or you merely don’t want to ruin what you have with each other because the potential of it breaking down into nothing scares you both.

You don’t really know how much more you can take, though, prancing around a solidification of a potential label. It’s like toying around with a jack-in-the-box. The crank goes around and around time and time again for endless laps, but there eventually comes that breakthrough where something from the unknown finally bursts open and reveals itself. It could be ugly, it could be beautiful. 

But both you and Nai don’t want to know and would rather drown in ignorance. It is bliss, after all—both metaphorically and physically.

“You wanna play it that way? Alright. Then tell me, what led to all of this?” You gesture to the current position you were entrapped in—Nai confining you with his body and arms, breaths just barely exchanging with another, and a certain aura lingering around in the dim bathroom where the music just barely booms through the walls. “What? Don’t tell me you were jealous of him?” you dare not to say Wolfwood’s nickname directly in front of the very man that loathes him entirely tonight. Your answer comes in the form of Nai’s eye twitching with a poorly-hidden covetousness. “Hm. So you were.”

“I wasn’t, stop jumping to conclusions,” he mutters immediately. Nai can’t tell whether his consciousness is being blurred by the intake of alcohol he’s consumed in the past few hours or if it was the lascivious images of you dancing to your heart’s desire on the flashing dancefloor that managed to hypnotize him.

“Oh, but you totally were,” you titter with a taunt. “C’mon, don’t think I didn’t pick up on the fact that you wanted Nico’s spot next to me when you came in, that you saw him bite my ear—” you see Nai’s eyes flicker on the same ear where a soft mark positions itself on the cusp of it made by yours truly. “—and it being the sole reason why you came to me.” You lift your head up.“Don’t think I didn’t know why you came here, to a nightclub out of all things, either, especially in this outfit,” you whisper.

Nai feels your hands touch his chest, fingers ever so gently running down his exposed skin. They unbutton a singular, tempting button to expose the beginning crevices of his abdominals before your hand latches onto his belt and pulls him towards you by the yank of it. You fight the urge to grin when he grunts and lazily sling your arms on your shoulders to bring him closer to you. 

“... I’m not stupid, Nai.”

He doesn’t pull back when you run your fingers through the locks of his white blonde hair, the same shade of blonde that frames his glassy stare that prods through yours. He knows you aren’t an idiot like most people, that you’re able to read them like a book all too easily, him not being excluded in that. So he gives in—sighs softly and presses his forehead to your own, now being able to smell the faint perfume you usually wear mixed in with some hints of booze. It’s a gesture of intimacy he’s only revealed to you, and he’ll only ever reveal to you.

“So, now what?” he cedes. “Stop torturing me and tell me what you want. What do you want from me, (Y/N)?” 

Eyes lifting from his exposed chest to his that stare you down with a familiar hunger, you mumble to him, “Do you want me?”

You move his hands from the wall to your hips, the same place where Wolfwood’s hands touched moments earlier. It’s almost like you want him to replace Wolfwood’s touch entirely, as if there was a space there only Nai’s hands can fulfill, now. His fingers brazen with anticipation, he drums them the same way Wolfwood did, but to his own beat… to his own rhythm… to his own song.

 Nai stays physically silent, with his only reply being his hands gripping your hips tighter as a confirmation of sorts.

You take his hands squeezing your curves ever so lightly as a yes.

“Then have me.” 

And with that, Nai doesn’t waste any time locking his lips with yours, doing the very thing he wanted to do tonight with the one person he desired with. All flavors of fruit are on your tongue, with his own tasting every inch of you as far as it can reach. A radiant atmosphere of lust and yearn permeates in the bathroom. The bass of the music is the only thing keeping you and him steady together as one connected being, albeit if it wasn’t there, you and him would’ve collided with all surfaces a long time ago due to the haze of desire burning within you both.

You don’t know what’s to come after this. You’ll never know as long as this torturous cycle of a fire of passion blazes in flames on a routinely basis continues because you’re not sure what to feed it next. Nai isn’t sure, either, both persons being ignorant to what has to keep the fire going for more than just a singular, libidinous night amidst each other's bodies. It nips at him and you, the way you’d share such intimacy one night, only for the morning after to go back to what you would consider “normal”, of you and him sharing bickers and taunts instead of blissful sighs and soft whispers of each other’s name, desires of want going hushed between the sheets.

A soft plea of his name echoes through the air before you’re silenced by a deepened kiss that makes you grasp onto his shoulders for dear life because you know that everything will just grow in strength the more seconds pass by. Him and you can only hope what’s to come in the lone bathroom you share with each other on such a fateful night in a fateful nightclub.

After all, what happens in Gunsmoke, stays in Gunsmoke, doesn’t it?

(a/n): situationships amirite

hi hi! i'm really surprised at myself for cranking out a fic this long in the span of only two days. for reference, "if the shoe fits" took me probably a week and a half to write or so, but i'm gonna take a wild guess and assume i wrote this to use as a distraction from my many essays due soon—yikes! that's okay, as long as i'm writing, still! i actually went to a nightclub that was the prime inspiration for this fic the other day, but i spent my time daydreaming (or nightdreaming? eveningdreaming?) about what knives would do in such a setting instead of being a normal person and drinking and clubbing. the mango dragonfruit cocktail is an actual margarita i drank during then, and though it was pretty delicious, it didn't have wolfwood spit on the straw unfortunately :/

anyways, thank you again to dem for her wonderful trigun college au (please go read it, im on my knees atp), and you for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are never unnoticed and always appreciated <;3!

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 1998 #millions knives #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nai x reader #knives x you #nai x you #million knives smut #knives smut #knives angst #millions knives angst #nicholas d wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x reader #wolfwood smut #trigun x reader #trigun fanfic

[cyberfreaky]

𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

— writing prompt: jake & reader have an argument over how he treats lo’ak.

— notes: this is set during atwow, widowed!jake & fem!metkayina. reader and jake don’t have an established relationship, they have a close dynamic lmaowjdiens

sngel = garbage

part two.

there was an eerie silence that had fallen in your marui pod. the discomfort was made worse with the way jake aggressively sharpened his blade, crouched down in the corner with a face of annoyance. you hadn’t dared to say anything in fear of potentially setting him off into a storm of rage — though it seemed that even the drop of a needle could throw him over the edge.

you’d secretly witnessed jake yelling at lo’ak earlier on for something so insignificant. you had seen how the younger boy’s expression was filled with such profound sadness, barely able to keep eye contact with his father while being scolded harshly. you felt hopeless in the moment, and even more so as the hours had passed.

you were aware that jake was dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a single parent, he had already told you the story about the unfortunate death of his mate. but this did not excuse his behaviour — especially since this was not the first instance of him raising his voice unfairly at lo’ak.

“what is it?”

the sound of jake’s thunderous voice broke you from your trance. you hesitantly look up and notice him glaring balefully at you, his demeanour adding to the existing tension between you both. “don’t know what you’re talking about.” you shrugged.

“don’t make me ask again.” jake seethed, dropping his equipment to the ground.

your dark brows knitted with confusion. was he threatening you? you quickly climbed to your feet and tilted your head to the side questionably. “or what?”

jake was almost taken aback by your stance. he followed suite and stood up, taking a few steps forward as he continued to stare at you with darkened eyes. “don’t get smart, kid. m’not in the mood.”

“you really wanna know what’s on my mind?” you challenged him.

“it’s what i asked, wasn’t it?”

at this point, jake was towering over you. his enraged gaze never faltered, it burned deeper into your soul as he looked down upon you — impatiently awaiting your answer. you were not intimidated by his presence one bit, in fact, his attempt to scare you into a confession was pointless. his ego was a trait of his you truly despised, and it was fuelling the slow burning resentment you were beginning to feel towards him.

“stop treating your son like sngel.” you spat, meeting his stare with an equally malefic glare. “you should never yell at your child like that.”

jake’s jaw clenched at your words. he was struggling to adhere to the fact that you had the audacity to even speak about how he spoke to his children. could it be the complexities of your ‘relationship’ had somehow opened up a door to allow you to critique his parenting? had he somehow given you leeway to make such a ludicrous comment? he was aware you had a mouth on you — but he didn’t think you’d outright cross personal boundaries.

“you have no place to say how i parent my kid.”

you looked at him baffled. jake was so oblivious to his own poor behaviour, you began to question why you even bothered to say anything. “you’re right, it’s not my place.” you stormed past him and grabbed his tools from the ground, throwing them angrily to jake’s feet. “take your stuff and get out.”

he laughed with disbelief, placing a frustrated hand to his temple. “ya’ gonna throw me out? even though you’re the one who started this?” he collected his things from the floor, shaking his head in discontent. “i don’t need this shit from you.”

“then leave!” you point towards the entrance of your pod. “go scream at your kids again, jake. show them what a great father you are!”

for a moment, you noticed the fury in his face contort into an empty look of hurt. it was as if your venomous tone had pierced through his chest, hitting him in the most painful spot imaginable. jake could only stare at you blankly before silently exiting, the numbness that settled into his body made him unable to conjure up any kind of argument. the fact that you had implied he was a terrible father was enough to break him — the one thing he prided himself in had been tainted.

you held your composure as you watched him leave, despite the rush of guilt that was rapidly emerging into your tummy. the remaining of your night was spent regretting everything you had said to him.

— all rights reserved ©️ cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.

#jake sully #avatar #avatar way of water #jake sully x you #jake sully x reader #avatar x reader #the way i only wrote this cause jake kept annoying me in atwow

[the-owl-tree]

genuine question bc I haven’t read the books since. Idk a long time, why do ppl hate nightcloud so much?? I have literally only ever heard of her as an afterthought. Like she’s the third choice for crow feather bc he needed to take a mate to not be seen suspicious and just picked her, there’s no love between them, and afaik he basically forced her to raise her son by herself, not counting the moments of attention he DID give which seemed to be overwhelmingly negative and even abusive. Isn’t she allowed to be bitter and that when he’s very clear abt his apathy and even resentment toward her and her son?? Or am I missing some context

People took Crowfeather passing the blame onto Nightcloud for Breezepelt's behavior at face value, despite two arcs worth of books proving that wasn't true at all. I'd argue the writing team ALSO believed this, as with how they characterized her in the subsequent Field Guides. Immediately, Nightcloud's past actions were re-contextualized to be negative, to further push this idea that she was this old coddling bitch mom who didn't let poor Crowfeather be involved with his son (look at the language of the field guides, they genuinely wrote "she should be glad to be alive").

Crowfeather was (and in some circles still is) a pretty popular character, and a lot of people were quick to latch onto the idea that he was blameless. I can't remember if CrowPool was or wasn't a popular ship, I lean towards yes, so take this line with the knowledge my memory is fuzzy, but I'd also argue that Nightcloud being the "replacement" mate was what made people even more hostile to her.

So, what is Nightcloud actually like? I'm only going to cover scenes where Nightcloud is either mentioned or actually appears, so no Outcast, click the first link for a better look at that. I'll only cover Po3 and OoTS for now.

Nightcloud's Appearances in the Power of Three

Our first meeting with her is in The Sight, where ThunderClan intervenes when they're being chased around by a dog. Her first piece of actual dialogue is her defending Breezepaw from Crowfeather, which is not coddling, especially when given the added context in Outcast that Crowfeather is verbally abusive towards his son. She also proceeds to lecture him about his manners towards a ThunderClan cat, so, she's not the one encouraging his rude streak.

She is then absent for most of the book until the end, when during one of the contests at the Daylight Gathering, Lionpaw and Breezepaw get hurt in a collapsed tunnel incident and she understandably is quite distressed. Then Leafpool drops the "i'd give every drop of my blood for you Crowfeather" line and Nightcloud just tries to divert attention from that, understandably uncomfortable with what's being said.

One of the scenes that's commonly used as "evidence" that Nightcloud stopped Crowfeather from bonding with Breezepelt is this one:

No hissing or swatting. She just doesn't let him help, and considering we now know Crowfeather has been absent from the beginning and isn't above hitting and screaming at his kid, I think it's understandable that she arguably isn't going to stop just so he can help. But that's my interpretation, I think this scene in itself proves nothing of the sort either way and people were reaching when trying to use it as evidence.

Nightcloud's remaining appearances in The Sight is her watching over Breezepaw and Lionpaw as they recover:

That is the entirety of her appearance in The Sight. Onto Dark River! Where her first mention is Leafpool identifying her and Jaypaw sensing some jealousy from Leafpool, as the patrol is going to check in on WindClan and get information because of uh scents. you know usual warriors border bullshit. We then get Jaypaw noticing her breath, and finally him sensing jealousy from Nightcloud (that she does not act on). This is the entirety of her appearance in Dark River:

Cue Leafpool being polite to Crowfeather, and Crowfeather waving as many red flags as he possible can.

And onto the infamous Outcast! Where Nightcloud has *drumroll* one fucking appearance.

She also has one appearance in Eclipse where she's part of the patrol that attacks Lionpaw, but I'm not even going to mention it it's quite literally just him going "Nightcloud!" before the scene shifts to his and Heatherpaw's conflict. She is entirely absent in Long Shadows, there is no appearance of her beyond allegiances.

And finally in Sunrise, she is entirely absent until near the ending. She's first mentioned by Crowfeather when Jayfeather asks him if he knew the truth, then noticed at a gathering by Hollyleaf:

When the secret is revealed, Nightcloud stands with Crowfeather. No hissing or hitting or turning on him, here is the entirery of her appearance when Hollyleaf reveals everything:

This is it. This is the entirety of Nightcloud involvement in the story, she is barely mentioned and she is barely a character. Her appearances are dwarfed by Crowfeather and Breezepelt, and she is literally just a normal mom character throughout.

Nightcloud's Appearances in Omen of the Stars

Nightcloud is absent throughout the entirety of the Fourth Apprentice. She is only mentioned in the allegiances. She has one appearance in Fading Echoes:

Then there's Night Whispers, where her first appearance is her arguing with Crowfeather while Flametail goes "yikes!":

Her other appearance is the infamous grabbing scene that people latched onto as proof that Nightcloud was an abusive monster who was hurting poor Crowfeather and was forcing him to not bond with his son. Breezepelt and Lionblaze get into a border dispute and it escalates into a fight:

Leafpool intervenes and asks Crowfeather why he's not doing shit, he then proceeds to throw up multiple red flags in front of her and does the red flag dance:

We finally get Nightcloud where she comes in and pulls Crowfeather away from Leafpool. Despite using her claws, presumably because she does not have fucking THUMBS to grab onto him, no blood is drawn. She just pulls him away in an already emotionally charged and over dramatic situation. This is not comparable to Crowfeather's abuse of his son and with everything else I've presented, her grabbing him is not indicative of their relationship, ESPECIALLY given the circumstances of the action:

Her last appearance is her talking about shredding RC cats, it's not relevant but uh it's there. That the entirety of her appearances within the book.

She has no appearances in Sign of the Moon. She then has a two appearances in The Forgotten Warrior where she is hostile to Hollyleaf (which feels understandable to me considering what Hollyleaf did):

She has one onscreen appearance in The Last Hope where she defends Jayfeather from the Dark Forest attack with some other WindClan cats:

Her only other mention is Crowfeather blaming her for Breezepelt's behavior:

In canon, this never happens. We never see Nightcloud encourage Breezepelt to hate Crowfeather, but we instead see Crowfeather spending an entire book abusing Breezepaw when Nightcloud is away. This is bullshit, but the fandom took this as truth and immediately turned on Nightcloud despite no actual evidence.

There are three takeaways from this:

Crowfeather blaming Nightcloud is....false. It's false. We see no canon evidence of this, and in fact the books tell us another narrative.

Nightcloud is barely a character. She has so few actual appearances that calling her "complex" is a lie, she is a narrative tool that moreso supports Crowfeather and Breezepelt's conflict than any story of her own.

Even if Nightcloud did do all that offscreen, Crowfeather STILL abused his child and that is directly tied to Breezepelt's motivations within Omen of the Stars. Nightcloud's behavior does NOT negate the harm that Crowfeather did to his own son.

#warrior cats #nightcloud #breezepelt #crowfeather #deer rambles #stealing bonefall's essay format LOL but it's useful for organization. #anyways. i've wanteed to make this post for a while sooo ty anon for the excuse to

[waywardstation]

Bucket

Phione Akari AU

Ingo needs a bucket to carry his small passenger around in. Zisu helps him find one.

I got an ask for this AU once wondering where Ingo got the bucket to carry Akari around everywhere. Instead of answering it, I wrote a little segment about it... sorry it took so long to get it out!

OR read here on AO3!

AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!

Enjoy!

————

“Ingo?”

“Miss Zisu! Ah, hello-”

“What are you doing back here?”

When Zisu had heard something going through things behind the dojo, she had expected to peek around the corner and find one of the village kids rooting around in the supplies, or perhaps one of those pesky wild bidoof that liked to sneak into the village, not her coworker.

“Well,” Ingo, knee-deep in a pile of various boxes and tools, sounded a bit out of breath — how long had he been going through stuff back here? “I’m searching for a bucket. I could have sworn I’d seen a spare one back here before, but I can’t seem to find it. We have one, correct?”

“Yes,” Zisu replied slowly, watching Ingo resume searching. Her poor friend had been very stressed ever since Akari had gone missing (understandably so, of course), and she found herself beginning to worry about him and question some of the things he was doing lately. This didn’t exactly help. “Here, get out of there and I’ll get it for you. What do you need it for?”

“The professor suggested it this morning to help keep Passenger hydrated, when I inquired him about their species.” Ingo explained, taking Zisu’s hand when she extended it out to him. Pulling him out of the mess of boxes, Zisu let Ingo dust himself off as she stepped in to take his place. “See, I’ve realized Passenger dries out rather quickly in the sun, and I often have to make frequent stops by streams and ponds to keep them properly maintained. Professor Laventon noted how dependent they are on an aquatic environment, and so I figured if we had an extra bucket…”

“You still have that little friend latched onto you?” 

“Indeed!” Ingo tugged the flap of his coat collar to the side, revealing the little blue Pokémon she’d expected to see. With big sad eyes and a droopy demeanor as it clung to the hood of Ingo’s tunic, it did seem quite discouraged at the moment. Very dehydrated, it seemed.

That Pokémon – or ‘Passenger’, as Ingo had started calling them – was one of the few things that Zisu had been questioning most lately, regarding Ingo and the things he did. The little Pokémon was a mystery to her; extremely temperamental and touchy with everyone it seemed, the behavior of fervently clinging to Ingo and refusing to leave him seemed quite contradictory, all things considered.

It was as if the fragile little thing was frustrated with or frantic around everyone, but didn’t want to lose their attention or be left alone. It was strange, to say the least.

And Ingo was actually entertaining this tiring behavior, having given it a name to refer to it with and everything. And now he was getting a little carrying container for it! No wonder it acted so entitled, always squeaking at him and hitting him with its flippers. The only reason Zisu didn’t question it more directly was because it seemed like in a way, Ingo was channeling a lot of his stress over Akari into caring for it. 

She could see it. She could see that there was some sort of placebo in caring for this Pokémon when he couldn’t help Akari. But if managing the mannerless creature helped him cope right now and kept him going, Zisu would leave it alone. 

She knew he blamed himself for not going with Akari that day, after all.

At least at the moment, the Pokémon seemed more complacent just hanging out of his hood. Maybe it had even worn itself out with all these tiresome things it was apt to do.

“Laventon still doesn’t know where it came from?” Zisu kept the conversation going as she opened one of the boxes. A bucket should be in here…

“He has noted within the time he’s been here, the species seems to congregate in small groups along the coastlands’ shoreline in the warmer months. He speculates there’s a migratory pattern.” A sentence that only surprised Zisu, seeing as how the days were only growing colder and shorter now.

“So? Why is it here now then?”

“The professor hypothesized that perhaps a storm separated it, maybe even carried it all the way inland. Or that its group simply abandoned it.” Ingo reiterated what he could remember. “But he is still very unsure.”

Both were quite grim and lonely options; Zisu found herself now feeling a little empathetic for the creature as she pulled a heavy bag of cleaning tools out of one of the boxes. And there, just underneath-

“Aha! Found it!” Triumphantly, Zisu yanked the coveted treasure out and held it up for Ingo to see; a wooden bucket. A bit dusty, but sturdy and useful all the same. Holding the bucket secure in her hands by its sides as she stepped out of the pile, she held it out for Ingo to take. “One creature container, just for you!”

“Thank you, I greatly appreciate it Miss Zisu,” Ingo received the bucket in both arms, hugging it closely. It seemed the prospect of a new transportation method somewhat interested Passenger as well, as the little Pokémon perked up a little to half-heartedly inspect it.

Looking over the bucket, Ingo genuinely seemed appreciative just as he had said, but there was still a sort of emptiness, as if the accomplishment was minimal. 

He was so tired, and yet his thoughts were already moving elsewhere, onto the next step. Zisu wanted to do nothing more than grab him by the shoulders, drag him to the Wallflower, and make sure he got a hot, filling meal in him, all the while reassuring him things would truly be alright before making sure he could get a fulfilling, restful sleep. 

But she knew that all of that would only stress him out right now, horribly so. He was clearly getting ready to go out and look for Akari again, and had only come by for a bucket to make sure he didn’t have to stop searching so frequently just for Passenger’s sake.

“Well,” Ingo cleared his throat, appearing a little self-conscious over how obvious it was that he just wanted to leave now. He tucked the bucket away under one of his arms, awkwardly adjusting his cap by the brim with the other. “I should depart now. Thank you again. I will, ah, most likely see you again within the next few days.”

Zisu looked upon him with a certain sadness. Sighing, she opened her arms. “Ingo, come here.”

Ingo moved as requested after a moment of hesitation, and Zisu pulled him the rest of the way into a hug. Wrapping her arms around him, she felt his one free arm hug back around her as he slumped into her shoulder.

“It’ll be alright.” She spoke against his neck. He smelled like sweat and stress. “Akari is fine. That kid is so strong; you’ll find her, or she’ll find you, and she’ll come back.”

Ingo sniffed, his words rather quiet. “Thank you.”

“It’s not your fault that this happened, ok?”

Despite the million things he wanted to say that Zisu could practically feel roiling under his rib cage against her, Ingo simply released a cracked sigh into her shoulder instead. She squeezed him tighter as if it would keep him together a little longer, before letting him go. Ingo was looking down as she moved away, but Zisu noticed Passenger was staring at her with those same sad, reserved eyes.

Putting on a big smile, Zisu did her best to encourage her friend. “Now, good luck out there! If anyone is going to find Akari, it’s going to be you. I know when you come back, you’ll have her with you.”

“I do hope so.” Ingo’s eyes squinted in indication of a small, reassuring smile in return as he turned to head back around the dojo and leave, bucket in hand. “I am very much looking forward to that as well; thank you.”

And with that, he walked through the gates of the training grounds, not to be seen again for four days.

#Phione Akari AU #submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #pokemon akari #phione #zisu #pokemon zisu #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #pla #pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic #zisu knows this man is holding himself together with scotch tape #Akari is just so tired of trying to get people to understand at this point that she's just like a limp noodle hanging out of Ingo's hood #she still doesn't even fully understand what happened herself #and at this point she doesn't even know that there is a way to possibly reverse this #everyone is so tired

[theicarusconstellation]

TELL ME ABOUT DUNE ALIA ATREIDES DUNE just anything I just need to read more about it I'm brainhungry

OH MY GOD OKAY OKAY OKAY FJSJSKNDNF

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT DUNE ANY TIME THAT GOES FOR EVERYBODY

SO. ALIA.

my poor girl was doomed from the START from CONCEPTION😭😭😭😭once jessica drank the water of life, alia’s fate was pretty much sealed.

it’s so fucking tragic to think about her relationship to jessica and paul. jessica loved her kids, truly, she did, and we see it in how she cares for paul and alia throughout the first book, even after paul thinks, my mother has become my enemy. and yet. even before paul was born, jessica has been motivated by selfishness. she defied the bene gesserit and bore a son instead of a daughter to make leto (and herself) happy, thus damning paul to the fate of the kwisatz haderach. she drank the water of life and took on the role of the fremen reverend mother while pregnant to help implement the bg’s plans (and her own plans) even though she knew what it would do to her unborn daughter. from that point on, alia was sentient. she had the memories of billions within her fighting to gain control.

for the first few years of her life, she had a very distinct sense of self. she and paul, despite their age difference, loved each other SO MUCH😭😭😭😭there’s this one quote from dune messiah where reverend mother mohaim says, “who could understand but the sister?” in reference to paul’s struggles, and yeah. they understood one another in a way no one else could.

she had a sweet family dynamic with harah, jamis’ wife and paul’s eventual servant. their moment together in the first book is honestly the most open declaration of familial love we ever see in the books (“i love you, harah.” FUCKING RUINS ME), and right after that, alia snuggles up to jessica and takes comfort in her mother (she was so young she just wanted her MOM😭). like yeah she has many different memories within her that are not the memories of a child, but she, alia atreides, was still a child. and i know brian herbert and kevin j. anderson’s books are…certainly something😐but there’s a moment between alia and irulan in paul of dune where irulan tells alia, “you deserve to have a childhood too” and that just BREAKS ME because she never got one. since birth, she was treated like a freak and knew it. she literally said, “i know i’m a freak.” (she was like TWO when she said this MY BABY😭). when paul’s jihad was going on, she was running arrakis in his place as a CHILD. she had so much wisdom and knowledge and did an amazing job, but underneath that, you do see that she was a literal baby.

once she hit about four years old, jessica left her on arrakis. jessica went back to caladan and reverted back to her old bene gesserit ways, living in fear and disgust of the children she created. the children she once loved so. much. are now her biggest regrets, and we see this when she visits alia in children of dune and literally hesitates to call her “daughter.” once she admits it, there’s an understanding between alia and jessica that they are still family, but the “…daughter” DOESNT HURT ANY LESS.

then dune messiah comes around. she’s ≈ sixteen and already regarded as a demigoddess by the people of arrakis and has a little mini-cult surrounding her. she is paul’s closest confidante (some may argue that it’s chani, but i say again, “who could understand but the sister?”). she’s “saint alia of the knife” for a reason too. her fremen upbringing + her genetics make her incredibly skilled, so much so that breaking records is second-nature to her. however, as paul’s state declines, so does hers.

(WHO. COULD. UNDERSTAND. BUT. THE. SISTER.)

she starts slipping into spice trance, letting ancestors converse with her for longer periods of time. she’s argumentative and so, so lost. when duncan idaho’s ghola is given to paul, this 35+ year-old zombie man sees this 16 year-old and is like “yeah i’m gonna get up on that,” so he and alia get into a “relationship” that my poor girl didn’t know any better than to accept.

i think the start of her breaking point came when paul lost his sight. up until then, they had understood one another as easily as breathing, like those saplings that grow next to each other and end up twisting around one another (or turning into one tree). but when paul comes back blind yet still able to see, he knows she’s scared of him, and an irreparable rift develops right then and there (i pretend this doesn’t happen for my mental health).

once paul wandered into the desert, alia was gone. her sense of self and grasp on reality went right with him. he was the only one who didn’t live in fear of her, the only one who she ever felt truly loved by, who didn’t put her on a divine pedestal she didn’t want, who she could TRUST😭

this fucking monologue from messiah guts me inside:

“i wish i could burn this thing out of me…but i’m sister to an emperor who is worshipped as a god. people fear me. i never wanted to be feared. i don’t want to be part of history; i just want to be loved. and love.”

WHO!! COULD!! UNDERSTAND!! BUT!! THE!! SISTER!!!!!!!!!!!

the (almost) last things we hear her say in messiah are literally, “duncan, duncan, he’s [paul’s] gone! i need you duncan, love me!”

then, children of dune occurs. it’s nine years after paul wandered into the desert, AND ALIA STILL WEARS YELLOW, THE FREMEN COLOR OF MOURNING. she hates him and loves him and hates him and loves him and can’t stay out of a possessed trance for more than five minutes. rather than help her as the people around her notice her falling victim to the voices inside her, they ice her out, even her former lover, and call her abomination, trying to send her to her death and looking upon her with disgust. leto ii and ghanima, who she raised since birth, have no sympathy for her.

the only person we really see her close with is irulan tbh. which like. oh i love their dynamic. they went from being curt and uncaring with one another in messiah to being one another’s only comfort in children (for irulan loved paul too). still, irulan distances herself the more wrapped up in her own head alia becomes. when jessica returns to arrakis, she does nothing but stand by (and encourage alia’s execution) as she watches her daughter slip away as a result of her selfish choices!!

after alia finds out paul is alive, god there is so much conflict going on within her. the last time she saw him, they loved one another with a love that was more than love, but now, he’s preaching that everything they’ve built is a blasphemy and alia should be overthrown. she wants him dead but she wants him alive but she wants him dead but she wants him alive and she wants to see him but she hopes it isn’t him but she wants to see him. her big brother.

when she finally does see him, he looks her in the eyes and calls her a blasphemy.

then, paul is stabbed. alia watches him die, and to me, that is when the last string within her finally snaps. she turns to jessica and shouts, “that was paul they just killed!”

so many voices fight to overtake her, including her grandfather, baron harkonnen, who had been possessing her up until this point, but she is just so, so tired and so hurt and so unloved that she can’t do it anymore. she doesn’t even bother to fight. she jumps to her death and does not scream on the way down.

and this is what gets me too. we know it was her decision, the last decision she ever got to make of her own volition, and it was one of self-destruction. the baron was screaming at her not to do it — everyone else watched as it happened — but she did it anyway, and honestly, she found more peace in death than she ever did in life.

god i could talk about her for hours i love her so much she’s my girl my love i need to wrap her (and paul) up in little blankets and hold them so close.

also there is just…something about jessica watching both her children die in front of her. and the comparison she made in the first book when alia walks into her room and she thinks, “she reminds me of paul at that age” with both their big, curious eyes and quiet mannerisms and OH😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#god i spent forever typing this out #this is definitely more than you asked for but #oh i just love her #alia atreides #st alia of the knife #alia ): #my girl my girl my GIRL #astra’s asks #dune

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello, Thank you for all the insightful posts . I am an INTP and the Issue I am having now Is I am born in a third world country in a small town not economically thriving . A non democratic country that doesn't teach you anything of substance , the elite kids go to the west and we the poor people have to study in rote memorization and passing the exam and before we know it the aha moment of how weak we are hit harder .

I dropped out from university in order to medicate myself from tuberculosis , and then I get cured , and the corona virus lock-down happened and then my father died and my aunt died . All have effected me deeply . The money I have saved for future interviews was wasted . And Now I am definitely in a Si loop , stuck and sometimes my mind and daydreaming sends me to dark places , wishing death upon myself , wanting to just end it , imagining myself being angry and hitting someone and hitting his face with my feet . I truly have become unhealthy and destructive . Feeling guilty , imagining how I could have done it better .

I constantly feel worthless and think how useless I am and how I wish I was never born because I am not going to be amounted to anything ever . The home situation is unhealthy , I have always been belittled , made feel worthless , insinuated to feel bad about myself . I remember since I was a kid , never felt loved or cared for , just been reminded how odd , slow , in my head , and not going to be as much as good as whom ever they compare me with .

I have an unhealthy ESFJ mother who can't be reasoned with . Explosive , hot temper , not logical or cares about clear communication . Her and my sister are truly insecure . I will Explain a scenario , we are in a bad economical situations , my brother triggered her , she started lashing out on everyone , cursing and insulting how useless we are without hearing or having a communication . I left to my room till they stop , because I can't handle this anger and drama where we can fix them if we think through things but she doesn't want to think or communicate . She confuses communication with complaining because for her communication is only a vehicle to use to release her hostile feelings and passive aggressiveness .

When I come back , she said why did I run to my room . I said I can't handle screams and this chaotic production of words . She said , you should and they started her and my sister : ISFJ , speaking at the same time , like literally at the same time . I asked them one by one , she said No why not listen to us both at the same time . Like what a hell is this . Here you notice and many patterns I have that they don't care about fixing the problem , they don't care about reasonably indulging members of the family to a conclusion , they want to release the tension . My mother specifically wants to release her hostile emotions , she wants us to feel belittled , useless , tell us how she is the only one who thinks about this issue and how useless we are and she thinks this is parenting , she thinks this is leadership.

Now I know since my father died who was an ISFJ , He was our only economical support and he was dutiful and doing his best to get me into a position where I can take the family but even he had issues with her , she swallowed him through her drama , passive aggressiveness , and her hostile attitude , belittling him too and comparing his lack of privilege to others who had far more advantage as if he had a choice in the cards he was given . Since this economical shortage only enraged her and made something to complain about and our household was not of kindness and mercy , I subtracted my needs since way back but my brother still takes from her money and she gives him and she comes back to complain and ruins the household .

The reason I brought my father is I feel bad for not doing anything for him and what a shame that he had no one to help him . He really deserved better and needed more care and love and I always felt unable to do anything when he had cancer . He apologized for me as if he felt bad for not doing enough for me . My friend . I really think and have evidence that my mother and family are unhealthy . I live in illiterate religious area , how do you think Fe and Si expression would be ? -- They don't care about reason , just any high status man who has money or is religious or looks religious matter and his opinion is far better and I , could speak for years and no one would care .

I think she is unsafe and unhappy and her hypergamic instinct produces this passive aggressive tests because she thinks by belittling us , we are going to somehow be motivated to provide and replace my father . She doesn't understand how the Ukraine|Russian war affected us , how our government changed policies to hire more females , she doesn't understand that I can't just get a job , it's all difficult in this competitive environment and I just have lost 3 years where tuberculosis , Corona virus lock-down , death of my father and the shock and depression this made me feel and let alone her training me to feel worthless isn't going to make me more optimistic individual because I can't even film myself speaking in a content creation out of fear and being self conscious of my voice nor dreaming of being able to be loved and desired by any female in romantic relationships to get out of this toxic voice in my head that hammers me and find some refuge in lovely partner .

I know I am unhealthy too - -- I read your study guides and my functions are all unhealthy and I could release the anger and hit someone or could not be able to contain myself and verbally defend myself if I get triggered . I am still studying to find a way to improve and optimally express all my functions but please with the contexts I have provided . How can you help me find answers to this following questions :

How can I remove this worthlessness and feeling I am useless from my mind and how I perceive myself ?

How can I trust that I would be able to get a job in this country and town ? I have limited skills like English and my native language because of time that was wasted ? [ I am planning to use the 4 Hour work week principle that prioritizes Te and Ni for effectiveness , working on skills to learn , 20/80 Analysis , low information diet , delegation and automation , and creating a product to sell to liberate myself from traditional 9 to 5 ] - I don't work in 9 to 5 Jobs . I Don't have any job now .

How can I deal with this toxic mother and her hostile attitude and her inability to be satisfied ? .

How I can heal the wounds that this mother infected me with since I speak to myself a lot and I get lost in my thoughts and she notices and doesn't try to understand , she tries to insult and belittles and laughs at me as if i am some crazy dude . It's the only place I feel safe and I have no friends and my mother doesn't talk to me except to release her tension , so I opt to my head and this had negative affects because my thoughts swallow me and I become self absorbed and any one notices I am speaking to myself and lost it . I do that because I am unhealthy , broke , unemployed , no job , and no healthy environment to drive me and give me help .

Do You think since I am unhealthy , I would waste time reading and consuming information about the study guide as some unhealthy coping mechanism and I should better opt to just exercise a few Ne Activities to drive myself out of my self and subjective narrative and my family and explore few experiments rather than read every detail and wait till I finish to exercise my functions ? Like see how Ne world is good and come back to reflect .

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

1. "Feelings" of worthlessness or uselessness are simply judgments (about yourself). In order for judgments to be sound, one must arrive at the conclusions properly, through logic and reason. This is the basis of having good critical thinking skills.

For instance, you say you "fell behind" in career goals due to physical illness. Was the illness intentionally caused by you or was it under your control? If not, should you hold yourself responsible for the consequences of being ill? Are you going to call every physically ill person in the world worthless/useless because, through no fault of their own, they have diminished capacity to achieve their goals? If so, I see no difference between you and your mother when it comes to the way you harshly and unfairly judge people.

Are you exercising good critical thinking when you make a judgment or draw a conclusion? If not, you need to improve upon it, in order for Ti to regain control over your cognition. You must have a reliable process of scrutinizing and validating your belief system, otherwise, on what basis are you going to make good decisions for yourself? When Ti is absent, Fe grip will keep haunting you.

2. Trusting the world comes with Ne development. It means venturing out into the world. It means trying and experimenting and seeing what happens. It means going to wherever the opportunities are. It means thinking of ways to make the best use of what you have. It means turning the negative into a net positive.

In other words, Ne is an extraverted function that requires initiative, ingenuity, and action. Ne is not about your predictions of the future; it's about making things happen. You can always find something good to express gratitude for. You can always find a silver lining in a negative situation. You can always visualize potential for change and improvement. But the key is to have an attitude of openness that keeps your eyes and ears attuned to opportunity. Are you nurturing Ne openness in yourself, or are you quick to reject ideas because they are "imperfect"? Whether things are perfect or imperfect is missing the point. The point is that things can be changed as long as you're willing to put in the work to change them.

3. The answer is boundaries. I've already written about the difficulty of drawing healthy boundaries in family relationships, especially parent-child relationships, consult past posts. Because there is so much history and, in some cases, so much bad blood between family members, it's easy to get stuck in negative patterns of behavior, and very difficult to change them even when you want to. Old habits are hard to break.

I always say that an essential aspect of growing up is learning how to view your parents as human beings rather than treating them as mere symbols of your personal ego drama. Was your father a "saint"? Is your mother a "villain"? These are symbols that reveal the flaws and biases of your perception. In the end, your parents are simply people. Every person is multifaceted. If you only ever see one aspect of someone, your eyes need adjustment.

Put yourself in your mother's shoes. Your mother also lives in the bleak sociopolitical environment you live in, with few economic opportunities. She has also experienced disappointments and heartbreaks. She has also had her hopes and dreams dashed. You share a lot more in common with her than you believe. To be clear, this is not meant to be an excuse for her negative behavior but, rather, a call for you to exercise empathy.

When you get a deeper understanding of why people behave as they do, you will be less inclined to blame and more inclined to maintain healthy relationship boundaries. The key to dealing with toxic people is to maintain proper emotional distance from them, rather than getting entangled with them and constantly embroiled in their dramas. To have healthy relationships in general, you must i) know the difference between "my business" and "not my business", and ii) stop involving yourself in things that aren't your business.

Her issues and problems are hers, so don't take them on as yours. It's not your responsibility to satisfy her demands. It's not your responsibility to live up to her expectations of you. Your only responsibility, in moral terms, is simply to be a good person. This raises an important question of whether you understand what it means to be "good". Do you have your own ideas about it or do you default to what your family taught you, since your judgments about yourself closely echo your mother's judgments about you?

Do you know what intergenerational trauma is? It's when families transmit the negative effects of unresolved hurt, pain, suffering, abuse, and trauma from one generation to the next. You are now consumed by pain and anger, not unlike your mom, so are you going to unwittingly transmit it to everyone you come into contact with? Or are you going to be the one to stop the cycle of trauma by taking responsibility for your pain and suffering? By seeking help, you're proving that you care enough to change the situation. I understand that your options are limited for healing your pain and trauma, so I will focus mainly on what you can do on your own.

4. With regard to Anger: If you don't want to end up like your mother, hurting everyone around her, then you have to confront the pain, you have to soothe the anger properly, and you have to challenge yourself to do things differently. This is achieved through Ne. Envision your better self and be it. Envision a better life and live it. Envision more possibilities and bring good ideas to life. By training your mind to be focused on always building something better, there is little space remaining for things like anger and blame.

I completely agree that your family environment is incredibly toxic. However, I cannot agree with blame. Blame is a mental trap. It is an immature and illusory way to feel strong and powerful. It only leaves you worse off physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. For all the sound and fury that blame entails, at the end of the day, you remain in pain because you've trapped yourself in perpetual victimhood. Without adequate health and well-being, will you have the mental energy you require for improving yourself and your life?

You can't have it both ways; you can't feed the negative aspects of your psyche and still hope to get back in touch with the positive aspects of yourself. Is the anger worth sacrificing your health and well-being for? Are you attached to the anger because you like the self-righteousness or because you want revenge? If so, you are choosing the negative over the positive, and you must take full responsibility for that choice. If you don't like it, choose differently.

With regard to Despair: When you feel angry, it means that something is broken and requires fixing. In this case, the relationship is broken and your boundaries have been violated. Like any reasonable person, you hope it can be fixed and the love salvaged. However, when confronted with the impossibility of fixing the relationship, despair follows.

Many people get held back and held down by despair because it can feel like a safer emotion than hope. Why? Despair is predictable in that you can maintain the status quo of known pain, whereas hope opens you up to new and accumulative hurt and disappointment through trying and failing again and again. As soon as sinking into despair seems like the better option to you, you are stuck deep in Si loop.

A person with good emotional intelligence doesn't succumb to emotions, rather, they take time to understand them and use them wisely. By putting despair in the right perspective, it can become an incredibly powerful emotion. Despair indicates you've suffered great loss and feel hopeless. However, in order to feel the loss, you must've placed great value on something to begin with. From this perspective, despair can open your eyes to what is most precious and valuable in your life. For example, despair over family conflict reveals how much you value your family, and despair about your career reveals how much you value your future self. When you know what you value most, it's easier to make good decisions for your well-being.

Despair is meant to teach you how to let go of the things you've lost. Oftentimes, people suffer because they are too attached to the things that bring them pain. Being unable to give up the attachment, they must bear the pain as a consequence. Logically, if you don't want the pain of despair, you must let go of the attachments that bring you despair.

Some people might misinterpret "letting go" as license to "detach" from the world and live on a metaphorical island, abandoning all the things they don't like. Quite the contrary. These people have failed the first test of emotional intelligence because they believe that their emotions are caused by external factors, so they try to cut out those factors.

The fact is that your feelings and emotions belong to you. They are generated by you, therefore, it is up to you to either answer them or change them. Your feelings are closely tied to your beliefs about the world, the way you think about things, and the way you judge things. When I say that you need to "let go", it means you have to change the way you think, give up old ideas, so that your beliefs better line up with your new reality. When you let go of mental attachments that distort your view of reality, you become much more capable of participating in reality. You will no longer feel bound and trapped by your own imagined expectations of how the world "should" be.

Career Example: Have you heard the saying "The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry"? No matter how well you plan things, unexpected accidents or misfortunes still happen. While it's good to have plans and look forward to achieving goals, it's not good to be so single-minded that you are incapable of adapting to change. When plans go awry, you are encountering a crossroads and have to make a decision about which way to go. Do you try to keep going with the same plan? Do you tweak and adjust the plan to better suit the change of circumstances? Do you abandon the old plan and come up with a new one? These are all possible strategies.

Family example: Do you understand that a toxic relationship dynamic requires two people to keep it going? Both you and your mother are attached to ideal images of how the other "should" be. By imposing these images upon each other, you are both failing to respect each other, you are both violating the boundary that should exist between you as separate and independent individuals, and you are both hurting each other with harsh judgments and criticisms. While you might keep your judgments and criticisms to yourself more than she does, their very existence represents something negative within you that wants to lash out and be violent. She most likely inherited that violence from her family growing up and she has now transmitted it to you, which means it is now yours to deal with. All of us have inherited some negative things from family. It's part of your personal journey of growth to become aware of them and change them.

To a certain extent, you "allow" your mother to hurt you because you love her. If she were anyone else, you probably would've abandoned them long ago for such nasty behavior, or you wouldn't even be bothered by their criticism. Your mother's behavior brings you pain because you want her approval and love. However, if you were to drop your attachment to what you believe she "should" be (e.g. a loving, nurturing, motherly saint), you may suddenly find yourself capable of seeing the reality of what she is. When you take time to see and understand people more objectively (i.e. practice empathy), you won't take their behavior so personally. The reality is that her behavior isn't directed at you. Her behavior is an expression of her own pain and suffering, directed at her own failures and dashed hopes. But you take it personally because she's failing to meet your expectations of her, and then you fashion her into a villain. Think more reasonably: If you believe you ought to have the freedom to be you, you also have to grant others the freedom to be who they are.

The takeaway point is that the way through despair is to let go of the attachments that bring you pain. It could be attachment to an idealized image of how people/you "should" be, an ideal concept of "meaning", or an ideal path that you have set for your life. Ideals are mere mental constructs, so they can be changed at will. You defined them, so you can "undefine" them and redefine them. Attachments that lead you to deny reality are like a black hole in your mind, sucking up all your mental energy. By letting them go, your mind becomes truly free for something new. But you have to be brave enough to leave the known behind and venture into the unknown with fresh eyes, open mind, and different choices -> Ne.

5. I don't consider it my place to tell people how to live their life. You need to learn how to exercise your best judgment, which means ensuring that your process of making decisions is fair, impartial, objective and well-informed. In terms of your mental health, it's a good idea for you to get out of the home as much as possible, away from your mother's abuse. Try to find safer spaces to explore your ideas and possibilities. Try to engage in activities, interests, or hobbies that bring you some relief, even joy. Try to make friends with people who can bring you comfort or help you out of your situation.

#intp #auxiliary ne #si loop #fe grip #parent child relationship #family #boundaries #blame #anger #despair #adaptability #hope #emotional intelligence #ask

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 140

Chapter 140: "I'm Here!"

Being reminded of the current date makes me think of just how little of the entire story we actually get to see. Starting from Conny's shipment on the 12th of October 2045 where we see pretty much everything until Norman's shipment on November 3rd until it jumps a bit to January 15th for Ray's "birthday." After the escape, we see all the stuff leading up to Goldy Pond's destruction on the 29th but then we skip another month until Emma wakes up from her coma. Couple weeks go by before that big timeskip starts when the Cuvitidala squad heads out early March, with the rare shelter visits we see during flashbacks, but the story doesn't pick up for us again til mid/late October 2047 when we got the shelter exploding, followed by the several day journey to the paradise hideout, and everything else bringing us to this moment. It ends with the kids finally crossing over to the human world a week later and then we're hit with another two year timeskip to the day Emma is found. I just think it's kinda wild how much we love this series and these kids despite only seeing a couple months of their lives within a story that takes place over 4-5ish years. Can you imagine if we were given more content?

Proud mom moment as precious daughter notices how baffled my son is as he rambles over the various possibilities of this complex cube and gets him to relax and remain hopeful within seconds with little effort.

When you usually offer your hand to someone, your palm is facing upwards, correct? So to this day I still believe it was Ray who held out his hand first here. It's a tiny detail that doesn't matter too much but nonetheless, it still warms my heart. Not even trying to go full on RE fangirl right now, but the fact Emma was just the one to reassure him that everything was gonna be fine and Ray decides right after to believe her and provide support to her in return is just real sweet to me, alright?

Bro I feel so bad for Ray. He went through all that trouble wandering the Seven Walls, facing his personal demons, dealing with an unimaginable amount of stress and sorta going through a mid-life crisis and he ends up getting kicked out! All that for nothing! I'm sure if he wasn't in a total panic over Emma's whereabouts that he'd be so pissed off.

Ch181 missed an opportunity to have Ray react this same way once he found Emma. It would frighten the poor girl sure, but perhaps it could've jogged some memories too since Ray shouted similar words to her towards her back in ch137.

I feel like I'm repeating myself (though can't remember exactly from which chapter, or somewhere else), but since no demon language is actually used in the anime, I have no choice to filter in something else in my head whenever I see someone speak His name. I could be nice and just call him demon god, or Scribbles as the fandom affectionately calls him, but unfortunately for Him, my mind filters to more rude name. Let's just say that bastard is one of the nicer ones (therefore reading such harsh names in the character's voice, like Emma's, is hilarious to me).

I'm still proud my boy was so close to figuring everything out! Aaah! I forget where it was mentioned, but Shirai said that if Ray had the chance to attempt the Seven Walls again, he would be able to reach the day & night, right? Not that I would think he would actually volunteer to suffer through all that craziness again though.

As much as I dislike the demon god, I'm not at all thrilled He was given one frame during that s2 finale slideshow. The fact that she alone was able to reach the day & night is simply amazing, no doubt one of her greatest feats, and yet the anime decides to just have her appear there without enduring any of the trials necessary to reach this sacred place. Emma making a new promise so her family can live a better life is one of, if not, the biggest goals of the whole story and the second season decides it's best to have this meeting last a couple seconds at most. It makes me so twisted.

Favorite panel/moment:

I honestly wish we got to see him break out into these intense rambling sessions more often, though I suppose it shows just how insane the Seven Walls are since Ray only became a mumbling mess at the sight of this cube and nothing else during the story.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

[augment-techs]

Ruby and Blush for OC ask game + any character(s) that speak to you :)

....okay, I'm just gonna step outside of the Coinless Universe for a small moment, since I'm working on ot3 Matt/Skull/Billy and need a reason to focus on this particular headspace for a spell.

RUBY:

Matt: In the grand scheme of things, while Matt often presents as wrongheaded or entirely focused on what he's doing and feeling at any given time, his heart and protective instincts will always encompass two things in a crisis. The first is his family--especially his little sister, who knew something was off much the way Zack did when Matt was replaced with a Putty, and got him through the worst of his dissociation when he got back from the moon. The second are his friends that also happen to be, through some true kind of life being stranger than fiction type fuckery, his lovers. While he might have been friends with Billy first, and his brain finds him the most valuable in a warzone or a place and time where he has no idea what he's doing, his instincts (be it his own, or the Green Dragon baked into his bones from the Power) tell him that Skull is the most precious...probably because he's seen him naked and almost has an aneurysm if he so much as trips or runs into a door. Or stick him into a bundle of blankets in a closet nine times out of ten.

Billy: The most valuable thing in the universe, to Billy, of course, will always be intellect and ingenuity. He's a Blue Ranger, and has been since he was just starting the way into proper puberty (thanks for that Zordon; not like that's going to cause issues down the line, but whatever) and was led into believing this even more so when he started working with Grace and Terona as something of a missing balance that the two have needed since their one and only time in Ranger suits. But the most precious thing is his team. It makes him feel a little ashamed when and if he has to say it out loud, but it's part and parcel of becoming a Ranger so young. When a problem hits the earth, be it by monsters, catastrophe, weather assaults, or aliens, his first thoughts always lead to his team, contacting them, constructing line of sight, making sure they're on the same level to get things done. And only after that does he think of his parents, then his lovers, then his other friends, then his colleagues. And it makes him feel like shit, but both Matt and Skull have assured him that it's okay. It's who he is and how can they hate a part of him when they love the whole of him?

Skull: His family have basically hated him since the day his was born (his brother tried, but he had his own problems and only sort of kind of vaguely cared about the little shrimp in that kind of way in that they're brothers and so he has to) and most teachers and authority figures in his life tend to forget about him as soon as he's out of sight. In the beginning, when he was finding his place into being a person without also being as big of an asshole as his father or a snake like his mother or just kind of unpleasant like his brother, he thought the most valuable thing in the world was being friends with Billy. Not just because he was a great guy, but because he didn't seem to know that Skull was poor white trash and not at all worth his time. The Cranstons were nice to him and Skull appreciated Billy and his family for the soft feeling they produced in his chest from day one. But then Billy branched out to other kids, though camp, through school, through connections with people that could bring him up in the world, and that went away and brought in this look and the way he began acting around Skull that spoke of shame and embarrassment and leaving him behind without realizing he was even doing anything wrong. Bulk's friendship became the most valuable thing given that he found the scrawny, abandoned little thing and picked up the pieces, while also sort of teaching Billy a lesson in bullying him, most often when Billy and Skull had an interaction that he didn't like or when Billy seemed to be getting too big for his britches. Which, while wrong, did actually do kind of a good job of teaching Skull not to let people get away with believing they were better than him just because of his background, and kind of gave Billy a lesson in hubris. Bulk becoming something to believe in, valuable like a family god or patron saint.

But the most precious thing to Skull is the safety of those he considers to be a part of his life that he wouldn't want to lose. As he gets older and the attacks on Angel Grove continue on and on and on, monsters and aliens and false friends and friends turned enemies against their will, he cares significantly less about himself and more about the people that cared enough about him, even for a day, and their well-being. His own safety and health almost always take a backseat to that.

BLUSH:

Matt: Someone nearly touching his face. Someone training with him one on one, getting up close and personal, and seemingly not minding being in his personal space. Someone almost but not quite touching him when walking in a group, shoulders inches apart. It's not the touch itself that gets to him much; it's the space and moments between where he riles himself up. Like a lizard with cold blood sensing heat just out of touch.

Billy: When he realizes he's diverged entirely into intellectual tech-speak and yet, the person that has no technological awareness has stuck around just to give him a sort of fond look that promises that they were listening and paying attention and trying to keep up, but were obviously more interested in how excited Billy got than anything else. And also seeing someone's little often unseen slips of skin when they stretch too far and their shirt rides up, or they roll their shirt sleeves or ride up their pant legs to adjust socks. Like some Victorian maiden in a Jane Austen novel.

Skull: Anyone complimenting him in a way that is not obvious platitudes or sarcasm. He doesn't really think he's good at anything, so this follows very obviously from that. Also being fed. Just giving him food out of the blue for no reason.

#boom! comics power rangers #Billy Cranston #Matt Cook #eugene skullovitch #mighty morphin power rangers #ask fill #prompt fill #this goes with a couple works actually

[allys-corner]

Second Guessing

Pairing: Peter Parker x y/n

Summary: Peter gets cold feet but Tony is there for him <3

Short little drabble for you guys

“Hey kid, how are we doing in here?” Tony asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, great, other than the fact that maybe I’m rushing into this and y/n doesn’t even want to marry me,” Peter yells, flinging his hands in the air with a scoff. He had always had a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he was being a little crazy. It hadn’t even been a year since May’s death, does that mean he’s already over it. Maybe asking miles to be one of his groomsmen was too rash or was asking Tony to be his best man too weird. It was like all these thoughts were hitting him at once. He felt very overwhelmed.

Tony notices that Peter has gotten paler and that he’s lost in his thoughts. It’s almost crazy how fast he knows what’s going on given that he had done the same thing at his wedding. Now it was Tony’s turn to impart some “fatherly” advice for his young protégé. He took a seat next to Peter on the bed, and turned towards the kid (not much of a kid now). Then, he started doing the thing he always does, he starts talking.

“Peter, when I was your age I was still getting piss poor drunk and having sex with too young of women all while running a company.” Tony huffs before placing his arm around Peter shoulder.

“Knowing that your thinking things through is a good thing, but don’t let it overwhelm you. You are an amazing kid, and you are smarter than you give yourself credit for. Why are you second guessing yourself?”

“What if I’m going too fast? What if this ruins everything?” Peter implores.

“I know you have a lot of thoughts running through your head right now, but regretting this shouldn’t be one of them” Tony replies, “y/n is an awesome girl and you and her are really good together. If I didn’t like her I would have gotten rid of her a long time ago.” Tony jokes shaking Peter lightly. Peter gives a shaky smile before looking more at ease. Tony gives him a moment to let the words sink in before continuing.

“I think you gonna be really happy with this girl, but even if something happens you know pepper and I are always here for you no matter what.” Tony makes a point to make eye contact with him while Peter looks away embarrassed. He definitely looks more relaxed than he had been at the start. Tony’s in the middle of handing Peter some water when Nat knocks, poking her head in.

“It’s time, Peter.” She says throwing him an encouraging smile before leaving. Tony turns toward Peter and gives him a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Peter” he says holding on for a couple seconds before letting go. Neither commenting on the wetness in their eyes. Tony gives him one more pat on the shoulder before asking if he’s ready.

“Yeah, I think I am” Peter replies following after Tony’s figure. He didn’t look back once.

A/n: sorry it’s been a minute but I haven’t had much inspo lately. Hope everyone’s doing okay and likes this short little fluff fic :)

#marvel #marvel fic #reader insert #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Watching Con O'Neill's Filmography: 'Telstar: the Joe Meek movie'

This movie needs Warnings for: Murder, graphic and accurate depictions of Suicide, depictions of depressive episodes, psychotic-of-body episodes, assault, manic moods, some nudity(nothing below the waist), semi depicted sex. Mentions of hate crimes, entrapment from a police officer, homophobic language, period-accurate (1960's England) homophobia, outing.

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

Con is a fucking genius, and yeah, I'm glad I waited until I was out of a bad headspace to watch this. I was finally pushed after listening to a podcast where he talks about his experience filming the movie. It reassured a lot of the hesitancy I had and made me appreciate how he must have made this.

Every actor kills it, and yeah, a few unfortunate actors are in this but play a small enough roll it shouldn't matter. Go in fully informed about triggers and how to keep yourself safe.

(SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT)

God, the fact that everyone went on to either disappear or revolutionize pop and rock music is so fucking depressing. The whole 'what happens to musicians' line just came true.

The movie never covered how much debt he owed, but god. The 3 million given a few months after his death just might have paid off. If he'd just stayed around for a bit longer, he might have built a better support system with people who could call his bullshit out.

As for the romance, god. You get that Joe Meek tended to attach himself to anyone who would listen. In the interview that made me watch the movie, Con said he'd listened to all this guy's work and a ton of it was puppy love-based music.

The guy who chose him just so happened to be young and unwilling to sacrifice his career for possibly being associated with him. Starting fresh and keeping Joe close as a 'friend' in the eyes of the public. Both members of the shitty relationship here are at fault for poor communication and abuse. But god, it just aches. I read it as a kid who slept with someone powerful and got too close. The lonely target is too willing to be taken advantage of for a taste of companionship.

If Joe had people around him who worked like he did maybe he could have had other influences. All the people in his life relied on his music to make money, and once he started to fall behind. Once society moved on, it was already too late. Just to survive everyone else had to move on.

The fading motif is amazing.

That moment Heinz goes to go back into the car, and the audience expects him to fade away, but Meek reaches out and grabs his hand in public. Desperate to keep him here since everyone else was leaving around him. Just fucking killed me.

The tragedy is knowing that if he'd just listened to the world around him. Stopped trying to make songs that worked in the 50s in the new era of the 60s, he could have survived. Everyone else saw this, but Meek just couldn't see it.

Other artists of the 50's era also had this split, which was why pop/rock was predominately younger, giving the new genera a shot.

Modern mental health specialists suspect real-life Meek of having schizophrenia and bipolar disorder with 'psychotic rages'. Con does play him like this, and it's so fucking refreshing.

I have both been diagnosed with BPD, and have schizophrenia-like symptoms from major depressive disorder, and yeah, a few scenes really hit home. It can feel like you are alone, being shoved into a corner. Hating yourself and not understanding why everyone hates you.

When in reality, much like Joe does in the movie, you are causing pain in the life of those around you. Sometimes people need to leave your life for a bit, and you don't get why. You don't realize how rude or mean you are in the moment. There are other things, but this is a general list of my initial thoughts.

Of course, a mentally ill person isn't just their illness. They never are, Joe also has a personality. Con plays a Joe Meek that is so desperate to be loved and accepted. He wants the things everyone else gets to have, success, money, and top hits without seeing how others around him could helm. His only want in life is a success; he never thought he'd get to love. His pride causes his downfall; it's never just his fault when things go wrong.

He'll have screaming scenes and be spitting and angry. In seconds he'll be sad Con O'Neill once again, portraying a sad broken man, with a smile and tears in his eyes, and AHH. I'm excited to rewatch this movie.

I feel for the landlady and Patrick. We don't know what really happened, obviously, but if that's how things ended...shit.

The cinematography is amazing, besides some bits that are very of its age. It feels era-appropriate. I'm excited to go do research about the inaccuracies. I want to look into if, after the outing, Joe started to really spiral. What the before and after were like.

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

(This bit was added a bit after watching. This was the first Con movie I'd watched, so I didn't have this rating scale like his other works)

Con: Fucking 10/10. Joe obviously isn't my favorite Con character, but it might just be my favorite performance. Knowing that he was stage Joe, and was chosen to be Joe in the movie. Even if his name wouldn't fill seats at the time, was the right choice. Even though this is in a mid-late era compared to other things I watch in this series, it feels like a masterclass in acting. We get to see every shade of emotion Con is able to produce and it has heavily influenced how I appreciate him as an actor.

Everyone accept Con: 8-9/10. I can't think of any actors being awful and I couldn't find too many reports of inaccuracies from real-life people about their screen counterparts.

Editing: 8/10. Semi stuck in the era it came out in. There were a few scenes that felt a bit stuck in 2008, but other than that. The music choices, fun montages, and hard cuts were smooth and helped the story along. I personally love the cuts where we see future/present Joe having his breakdown, then showing exactly how Joe got to this headspace.

Music: Stellar. I personally can't stand a ton of music from this era, but god, the movie made everything feel so fresh. I knew where half of these bands ended up, and still, it felt new and exciting to see their start.

Overall: Personally a 10/10. I fucking love this movie, as a depiction of some of the struggles I've worked very hard to work on. Seeing a character you go from disliking to empathizing with. Would I recommend it to anyone? God no. You really need to evaluate just how heavily the warnings I gave above will be an issue. (If you've read this, haven't watched it, and want to ask about warnings, don't be afraid to message me)

Do I enjoy it mainly for Con? Maybe, but given that he's the character on screen for 70% of the movie I don't feel like that's a wrong 'bias' to have.

#con o'neill #telstar #telstar: the joe meek movie #telstar the joe meek movie #con oneill #Con's Conography

[missingn000]

I was wondering how the inspiration for this fanfiction was born??? Like??? Helloooo??? This is pure genius and poetical wit all wrapped in the same otherworldly burrito??? HELLOOO???

I was also wondering if you could also give us a little sneak peak or hint about some of the plans you have for Megumi? (My poor baby😭 GEGE GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM THIS IS A THREAT👹) And THANK YOU for giving us the Tsumiki arc Gege SHOULD’VE given us.

(No but I need to know your thoughts about the ongoing manga fight. It’s not a want, it’s a NEED love😭 Every time I think of my baby all curled up, CRYING HIS HEART OUT, hidden in the darkest, deepest part of himself basically wishing to disappear, I feel sick.)

I remember you said you wanted to post a certain chapter before june, did you end up doing it? (Was it the Sukuna introduction?) I’m so uncertain bc I’m not actually “following” the fic rn, just the updates, since I want to wait until it gets to the Toji-Megumi biofather-bioson mess of a reveal or the actual end if i’m brave enough (tho it really depends on how long this fic will be).

That said I read almost half of the fic during Christmas holidays and I’m in love with your mind. No I’m not kidding. There is something enchanting about your way with words.

Good luck on your new job!

ahh i'm so happy you like it!! if i had to point to one single thing that inspired tpg, it would be that one panel of maki and toji together in jjk chapter 149. it had come out a few weeks prior to me getting the idea, and i remember revolving it in my head like a microwave until the idea for toji raising maki just hit me!! i even remember where i was when i thought of the idea lol. i freaked out

for megumi, i really want to explore his thoughts on love. megumi is the type of person who doesn't overtly show his affections because he's so used to losing them the moment he does -- and yet he can't stop himself from feeling it. he def still has abandonment issues from what happened with toji, and as toji and megumi slowly realize their relation to each other, it's definitely going to be a challenge for megumi to accept

i did end up posting the chapter i wanted to post!! it was sukuna's introduction, yeah :) as for the megumi-toji reveal, you're gonna be waiting a long, long time, lol. that's what kicks off the final arc, and we have SO much to happen before then. so you should come join the fam :D i'm really happy you enjoyed it when you were reading it over the holidays, you're too kind!!! <333

#thanks for asking and for your kind words!!! #as for the current manga fight...i'll keep things brief‚ but i hate it #and not just the content: sadly‚ i think it's bad writing. #a fight needs to have emotional stakes to be truly compelling‚ but the only thing happening in this fight #is just fancy punch punch kick kick. all technique‚ no depth. #gojo's characterization has completely changed‚ too‚ and we've learned nothing interesting about sukuna. #i'm very‚ very disappointed #OH WELL #thats what getou vs sukuna is for #tpg

[blurryeyeswhump]

trying out first person with The Man™️ and poor Felix. have fun kids!

That last kick to the face might have been a little uncalled for, a little too much maybe.

Felix is hunched over on his knees, blood drooling from his mouth before he gathers it up and spits at the ground. I’m surprised no teeth come out with it. He’s wheezing and a little wobbly.

It’s only been a few minutes since I started hurting him today but he already looks like hours have passed. The poor thing finally looks up at me with those sad, weepy eyes. Well, eye. The other is swollen shut at the moment, God that swelled up fast. He sobs a little when I grab his hair and crane his neck back. He’s dependent on me for balance as his hands are bound behind his back, though at this point the restraints are a bit redundant. There’s no way he could fight back in his state.

With my other hand I rub roughly at his cheek, smearing blood and spit and tears.

I feel him clench his jaw because he knows I’m about to hit him. The eager little listener has never forgotten since the first time I told him to keep his teeth together or else I might break them when I hit him.

I just take him in for a moment instead of slapping him like I’d planned.

When no pain comes he slowly opens his good eye at me. He takes in this shivering breath and says something quietly.

I can’t hear him so I lean down and drag him a little bit closer by his hair.

“What’s that?” I ask.

He squeezes his eye shut again and his lips tremble.

“I wanna be done,” he’s so quiet.

“You wanna be done?” I repeat.

He starts crying, “Yes, I can’t- Please, I just want to be done today.”

Something about this makes me take pause. Of course he’s asked me to stop before. He’s screamed and wailed and begged. But there’s something about how depleted he sounds. Like a child exhausted after a day of boring errands, just empty, and tired, and like he said, ‘done.’ He just wants a break. Fucking adorable.

I let go of his hair and he slumps forward only barely keeping himself upright.

“You said you can’t?” I ask, crouching down to his level, “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?”

He sighs and his shoulders start to shake. He doesn’t know that I’m going to give him what he wants. Just this once. His little tactic, purposeful or not, won’t work again. But what’s the harm in giving in this once? Spare the rod and all that I know, but I won’t make a habit of it.

He finally gets it through his head that I asked a question and hisses out a yes without looking at me. Good boy.

I reach around him and untie his hands and he immediately clutches his crooked left hand to his chest. He always does. I don’t know what more he thinks I could possibly do to it but he protects it any chance he gets.

I lean closer and press my forehead against his. His hair is sticky with sweat.

“You can be done for today,” I whisper.

He melts immediately and starts crying again. Big heaving sobs. He slides down and falls into my chest and I almost laugh at the absurdity of it all.

I have never given him comfort before now but he needs it so badly he’s apparently just taking it for himself. I wrap an arm around his back and let him cry. There’s blood and snot all over my fucking shirt. He can pay for it later.

I thought he was broken the minute I brought him here but God, this is getting sick. I wonder if he’ll spend all night wondering if he’s made some kind of breakthrough. Gotten through to my iced over heart and made himself human to me.

I smile into his hair while he cries imagining the shock and terror he’ll feel tomorrow when I hurt him for twice as long.

#felix the pitcher #intimate whumper #whump #whump blog #whumpee #whumpblr #my story #first person pov #tw: blood #tw: abuse #tw: violence #dehumanizing #imprisonment #torture

[danzinora-switch]

You know what? I’m not done. 

More takes from my rereading of Fablehaven:

- Mara. There’s never enough to say about her, she’s such a badass. Probably my biggest fist pump moment was in book 5 when she’s leading them through the Dreamstone “staying oriented is my biggest strength”. Girl, I RELATE. I have a pretty good sense of navigation myself, taken from my dad. It was so awesome to see it treated akin to a superpower in a book.

- Nero’s massage in book 1 was so well-described I have actually given other people massages based on those methods. And received many compliments.

- Newel and Doren! Likable from the very beginning. I love Grandpa Sorenson vs Patton’s approach to satyrs - Grandpa mentions work to get them to go away, Patton mentions sport to get them to work. But these guys come all the way to Zzyzx, and THAT counts for a lot.

- I’m still on the fence about leaving Dale in a safehouse at Fablehaven. On the one hand, yeah, he is not the adventure dude. On the other hand - he braved the inverted tower alongside Tanu and Coulter. Broke both his legs, but he still went. And he full-on tackled a dark satyr in book 3 so that the others could make it to the pond. And let’s not forget about the shotgun. I feel like the battle at Zzyzx would be a bit different if Dale was there with his shotgun.

- Warren is still my favorite character. He really sticks his neck out for others, even when it gets repeatedly chopped. He leads the way through the inverted tower, through the vault at Lost Mesa, is the one-man rescue mission at Living Mirage, and truly gives every task his all. The description of Neil’s death is especially potent. Gosh, it gets you, but you also see how Warren reacts. He guided every single person through the chokepod cave and Neil was the only one who didn’t make it. And he punches a wall so hard his knuckles bleed. He really cares. And he’s also on Seth’s side, essentially sneaking him into Wyrmroost. Seth really needed an ally and Warren understands. Plus, he’s funny. 

- Maddox the fairy broker. Cool guy, been through hell. As a kid, fairy brokering made sense to me. Yeah, this is a world of magical creatures. Creatures. But on the reread I have so many ethical questions.

- The description that they watched the demon horde poor out of Zzyzx and into the fairy realm for THREE HOURS is what really sold the ‘horde’ for me. That truly is a massive amount of demons, and yeah, there is no hope of fighting that.

- I love unique solutions to big problems. Like slaying Siletta the poison dragon with a unicorn horn. Or the Russian Doll key/vault for the Translocator. Or the pod for Seth surviving Olloch the Glutton. It all just fits very nicely.

- The Sphinx is such an interesting antagonist. He is so PATIENT and that’s what’s made him so dangerous. It’s unique for a bad guy, in my opinion, but it’s largely what makes Graulus completely shuffling the deck so important. There was no other way out of the Sphinx’s plan. It was also interesting seeing him there as an ally at the battle of Zzyzx, and I think his punishment is fitting, though a part of me still agrees with Vanessa. 

- I think what makes Coulter’s death hit harder is that we see it from Seth’s POV. Kendra has watched several people die: she sees Errol taken down by a panther, Tammy flung off a cliff, hears Neil die then has to crawl past his liquefying corpse, witnesses Dougan get eaten, Gavin/Navarog get eaten... by the time Vincent is dying beneath the ice it’s no wonder she feels numb, and that they just need to keep moving there’s no saving him. Seth, on the other hand. Seth witnesses “Kendra” “die” which is ROUGH, but then he quickly learns that she’s still alive. Vincent is his first death, but he disappears out of sight and we also just met the guy. But Coulter... Coulter dies in his arms. And he’s not a stingbulb, he’s really dead. And we’ve known him since book 2. No wonder it hits Seth hard. No wonder he feels like this is the worst mistake he has ever made. These kids are traumatized, and the story doesn’t skimp over those details. They all have major trust issues by book 5. Kendra’s having nightmares. Seth is sadder, and more brooding. They save the world and it looks like they’ll heal with a happy ending, but they did go through some dark stuff and it left its mark.

- The concept of the Quiet Box forever fascinates me. Since I’m pretty sure it pauses aging (Kendra’s stingbulb is able to live for more than 3 days inside it) there is one other person from the Sphinx’s history alive - the jailer’s assistant whom he had put inside to free Nagi Luna. That poor guy whenever he gets out. 

Will probably have more, frankly.

#fablehaven

[elisaphoenix13]

Avengers Tower? You Mean The Zoo?

When Stephen woke, the first thing he noticed was a shivering body curled next to his. The next thing he noticed was that he felt awful and the thought of trying to get out of bed was a massive chore by itself. His brain simply didn't want to function. He had to know who was shivering beside him though because they were too small to be Tony and the mother in him forced him to ignore his own illness to take care of his child.

Or in this case children. There was a second, smaller body on the other side of him that he didn't notice before. When he finally opened his eyes, he found William to be the shivering body and Valerie to be the second one. Both had high fevers. Stephen didn't want to disturb what little rest they were getting so he used his magic to pull a second blanket out of the closet and laid it over them. It fortunately did the trick of warding off William's body chills and he was able to settle into a more peaceful slumber. Stephen was content to doze back off to try and sleep off his own illness and tried to ignore the part of him that wanted to preen because one of the twins came to him for comfort.

Earning their trust had been a long endeavor because the poor boys were constantly expecting to be thrown out at any given moment, but Tony and Stephen would always firmly, but kindly, reassure them that they were in it for the long haul. Now the twins were theirs. Thomas and William saw them as Mom and Dad, and this moment proved that at least William believed them now. That he really saw them as his parents.

Before, William would suffer in silence whenever he got sick. He believed being sick wasn't worth bothering Tony and Stephen about and they were quick to prove him–and Thomas–wrong. 

Stephen hadn't even noticed when he fell asleep again until he was woken up by a cool hand on his forehead. He mumbled something unintelligibly before opening his eyes and found Laura to his surprise.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you," she says softly. "We all came to visit and Tony said you and the couple of the kids were sick."

"It's alright." Stephen mumbles and rubs his eyes. Valerie and William were still curled up as close as possible to him and sleeping, and Athena was laying at his feet if the weight was anything to go by. He didn't have the energy to actually lift his head and check.

"Fortunately, it looks like it's just the three of you that got hit. You all have high fevers but nothing too concerning. How are you feeling otherwise?" Laura asks.

"Like I have the flu." Stephen grunts. "I don't want you to catch it."

Laura huffs fondly. "Us moms have to look out for each other. I offered to keep an eye on all of you since Tony was called into work that he couldn't blow off. Think you can stomach some soup?"

Stephen wondered that same question but he decided it was better to try and he shrugged. "Guess we'll see. I have some children's Tylenol in the bathroom that you can give to Valerie." He mumbles, motioning lazily in the general direction of the en suite.

"Let's try and get some food in you first then I'll give you some Tylenol." Laura says. "I know you're worried about the kids but let me be the Big Mom today alright? You worry about resting."

Stephen grunts. "That's a tall order."

"I know. You can never really turn off being a mom." She replies. "If you're going to worry, just focus on these two. Tony says they're your biggest leeches."

As Laura left the room, Stephen wondered about her words. He knew Valerie was very attached to him, but he never thought that maybe William was in his own way too. When he really considered it, he was surprised that he never noticed until now. William spent a lot of time with him. Of course he was old enough that he didn't cling like Valerie did, but today was a good indication that he would go to Stephen if he was uncomfortable. In fact, whenever the kids crawled into bed with them, William always crawled in on his side.

They put puzzles together, read silently together, and if William was ever given an option to go with one parent over the other, he mostly chose Stephen. It wasn't that he disliked Tony, quite the contrary, but all kids had a parent they preferred right? Just like Harley preferred Tony. Maybe because he was interested in mechanics which was something he could bond over with Tony. William enjoyed quieter activities which he could bond over with Stephen.

Thomas…seemed to like them both equally. It really depended on his mood. It was the same for Peter and Diana. Though in Diana's case, Cassie would always be some sort of third parental figure/older sister. And then, of course, Lucy preferred her Daddy. She was turning into a grease monkey by the day.

"Hey, brought you some of that soup and some crackers." Laura says when she returns a little while later with a tray with three bowls of soup on it. To Stephen's relief it smelled heavenly, which was a good indication that he would be able to keep it down. He had no idea about the two kids though.

Stephen gently rouses them and William opens his eyes with momentary confusion and Valerie simply whines at the disturbance. "I know, but you two need to try and at least eat something. Laura was kind enough to make us some soup."

Fortunately, the two seemed intrigued by the idea of food and both sat up so Laura could set up the tray. Once they were settled, she left them to eat and Stephen made sure they didn't eat too fast. Valerie requested to watch the Little Mermaid while they are and Stephen agreed once he made sure William was okay with it. The poor boy was an unwilling participant to that movie after the first few times, but he continued to watch it with her because the two were so close. 

Stephen wouldn't be surprised if he could quote that movie word for word.

When they all finished eating, Stephen had William set it aside so they could lay back down. With seven kids, he was pretty adept at tuning out movies that he had heard at least thirty times so he was able to doze off again. William tried to and Valerie probably wouldn't until her movie was over. Most noises didn't even disturb his sleep anymore. He learned which ones were just the kids being kids and which ones demanded his attention, so he didn't wake when someone came in to clean up the tray.

He did, however, wake when he heard Athena snarling.

She never did that unless there was potential danger, and it had Stephen casting a protective spell as he woke up purely on instinct. Once he was satisfied that at least his sleeping children were safe–a quick glance confirmed they had fallen back asleep at some point–Stephen gave himself a chance to gather his bearings so he could identify the danger.

He didn't expect to find Tony in the room with a placating hand toward Athena and…

"Tony…why do you have a jaguar?" Stephen sighs.

The man looks at him a little sheepishly and gently pats the large black cat standing next to him. Surprisingly, it didn't seem the slightest but perturbed by Athena's defensive snarling and Stephen had to wonder if it was a case similar to Emir.

"Because he's technically mine?" Tony answers and Stephen raises an eyebrow. "Found out some people were using my company to do some kind of underground black market deals. Exotic animals were part of that. I shut it down and this guy seemed pretty insistent to follow me home. I asked about releasing him into the wild but apparently Apollo was born and raised in captivity."

"...you already named him." 

"Diana already talked to him too. Told him the rules. Just wanted to introduce him to the animal boss." Tony says with a grin.

Stephen looks at Athena and only then does he realize she was actually standing over him and the two kids and he couldn't help but smile. She was very protective of the family.

"It's alright." He soothes and reaches up to pet her. "Thank you for protecting us, but he's family now too."

Athena stops snarling but doesn't immediately move from her defensive stance. She growled in warning when Tony slowly led Apollo closer, but she eventually lowered her head to sniff the large cat. She huffed in irritation and moved away to lay back at the foot of the bed and Tony visibly relaxed.

"She might have to share her spot." Tony says. "Apollo seems to want to stay by me like she does with you."

Stephen couldn't help but snort. "Yeah we'll see how well that goes."

"Anyway, how are you and the kids feeling?" Tony asks after chuckling.

"We were able to eat without a problem. The soup helped." Stephen finally drops his shield and lays back down with an exhausted grunt. Using his magic tired him out and he already wanted to go back to sleep. He was glad that the kids slept through the whole ordeal but they would have to introduce them to Apollo so Valerie wouldn't get scared.

"That's good. I sent Laura down to Clint's floor and said I could take over now. Do you need anything?"

"Not at the moment."

Tony smiles and walks around to his side of the bed and sits down before reclining back. "I'll hang out here with you guys then. Harls is making dinner tonight."

Apollo immediately follows Tony and hops up onto the bed–much to Athena's chagrin, but she only huffed–and found his own spot to lay down.

Specifically right on top of the billionaire.

"No, no, no! You're too heavy! I don't know how Scott does it with 800 pounds of tiger and man but I'm not figuring it out with you!" As Tony shooed him to the door of the bed with some effort, Stephen snickered.

"That reminds me…has Tibbs met him yet?"

"Oh yeah. Best friends right off the bat."

"Of course." Stephen rolls his eyes. "I'm going back to sleep. Wake us up when dinner is ready."

"Yes, Duchess."

#ironstrange #supremefamily #stephen strange #tony stark #mama bear au #william kaplan #valerie stark strange (oc) #laura barton