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jordanswwe · 5 months

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you’re perfect

grayson waller x reader

summary: y/n and grayson are bestfriends, until it turns into something more. with a fight breaking out, a love confession arouses.

y/n and grayson have been bestfriends since grayson had been on survivor. they met through indi hartwell. it was a windy day and indi was having a celebration on winning one of the most prestigious titles on the independence scene. y/n finally arrived to the party and that’s when she saw him.

when y/n walked inside, grayson’s attention immediately went to her. she was the most beautiful human he’d ever seen. he decided to keep it cool though and not make it known.

“hello beautiful” he said to her. with his shoe in his hand. you had remembered that indi told you one of their friends were obsessed with doing shoeys.

“mind passing me one of your shoes, i would use mine but shit cost money” she said laughing.

grayson handed her his other shoe and laughed at what y/n just said. “i love your humor lad.”

grayson and y/n hung out the whole night. doing shoeys, talking, and exchanging numbers. indi saw all of this and she was very intrigued.

“we’ll i have to get going, but it was lovely getting to know you y/n” grayson said.

as soon as grayson left y/n was no bombarded by a curious indi hartwell. “omg, what was that” she asked excitingly. “just another hot man, but there’s something specifically special about him” y/n said laughing.

over the years the friendship that was going on between grayson and y/n only grew stronger by the day. then they reunited in wwe.

“hello stranger” grayson said approaching y/n.

“omg” y/n said excited as she jumped in grayson’s arms. “i can’t believe you’re finally here” she said.

you had knew that grayson made it into wwe, but due to covid, he has to wait for the travel ban to be lifted.

“i’ve missed you so much” he said continuing to hug his bestfriend.

— later that night —

grayson was having his first match and he wanted to completely show everyone what he was made of. as la knight was lying on the barricade behind the announce table grayson had the bright idea to try to make a long jump from the top rope. this being his first match, he missed and went flying into the second barricade behind la knight.

after the match grayson was rushed to the trainers room where he was met by y/n and indi. she seemed so worried about him and she looked so concerned for someone she cared about, someone she loved.

“what were you thinking” y/n said with a shaky voice. indi must’ve been able to read the room because she immediately left. “you could’ve gotten more hurt and it could’ve been more serious.” she added.

“you need to be more safe with what you do in the ring gray, if you would’ve gotten seriously hurt i don’t know what i would do.” y/n said.

grayson threw his ice pack, not at what y/n was saying, but at the fact he had a slip up in his debut match. “i don’t know why i’m here, i couldn’t even do that simple move that i’ve done plenty of times on the indies.”

“it’s okay, you’re still an amazing wrestler and you learn from your mistakes. you’ll get it next time.” y/n said.

“you don’t understand, slip ups don’t sit well with fans. they judge you on everything you do and slip ups lead to many hate comments.” grayson said fuming.

“why should it matter. you should know your worth gray, you’re one of a kind” she said.

“i don’t know why you’re trying to be so positive. tell me i suck for the mistakes i made in that match, tell me i suck because i almost got injured in my debut match.” grayson began to ramble on and on. as he kept saying negative things towards himself. y/n had heard enough.

“you know what gray. i literally love you so much that it physically hurts me. my stomach ties into knots whenever i’m around you and i can’t think of anything by you. whenever you’re around me i feel comfort. you’re my home.” y/n said practically on the verge of tears being bursted out like the floodgates. “you ask why i keep saying positive things about you, it’s because there’s nothing negative about you. you’re perfect grayson. i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” y/n had loved grayson for so long and it upset her so much to see him so upset with himself.

grayson just sat there for a moment shocked at what y/n had just said. at what she basically just confessed “y/n, my love. you have no idea how long i’ve waited for you to say that y/n. i love you more than life itself. ever since i saw you years ago at indi’s party. i knew you were going to be something special in my life.” grayson said to her smiling with all his worries away.

grayson looked at y/n with pure emotions and he leaned in for a kiss. he was met with the lips of y/n. years of love, want, passion, and affection was put into this kiss. both of them had known all along that they were each others forever.

since then, grayson has became a human highlight reel and he didn’t care about anyone’s opinion about him. the only opinion he loved and appreciated was yours.

~~~~

i had to write a grayson waller post because he’s literally the hottest man on earth and he deserves way more of these.

#grayson waller x reader #nxt x reader #wwe x reader #grayson waller fanfiction #nxt fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #grayson waller imagine #nxt imagine #wwe imagine

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jenniferdiazisatransgirl · 1 year

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“Watching and Dreaming” (Spoilers)

Hey everyone,

So I think this is going to be my last The Owl House post. I’m tagging this with spoilers just in case I go into any, but I somehow don’t think I will.

I’m not gonna lie, like most of you probably do, I wish The Owl House got much longer on the air. It is an amazing show and it feels a shame that Dana and the crew were forced to fit the ending into such a short span of episodes. There are areas that didn’t get explored further such as the consequences to Odalia Blight for her actions in helping the Emperor and also Kikimora. I would have liked to have seen a bit more exploration of Alador and Darius’ history even if it turns out they merely used to be friends and not in a relationship as I have predicted. Last episode we seemed to get just below the surface of why Boscha is the way she is. It would have been nice if these were all explored more but I appreciate constraints were put on the show where these things couldn’t be explored.

In the end though, I started this chapter of my blog with one theory in mind. Summer 2020 during the height of covid, I sat down to watch this show after it had been recommended to me and by episode 5, “Covention” I knew in that moment there was something between Luz and Amity and sure enough by Season 2 that was canon.

Lumity was the ship and at the time, the theory I set out to follow and that became canon. It is kinda why I begun to drop off a bit after it became canon, I continued to watch and enjoy the show but I was mostly out of ideas when it came to theories. And by the end Luz and Amity are still together and it seems they would have been together for 2-3 years by that point.

I really have enjoyed The Owl House. It ended way too soon and honestly, I wish a show like this had existed when I was a kid. I’m just so glad that LGBT+ youths growing up now or in the future will get to see themselves represented and in such an amazing show with such strong characters and story.

And who knows, maybe in the future Disney will see fit to return to the Boiling Isles but for now I think this is a good point to bring this chapter of my blog to a close. It’s been fun and thank you to all of you who continue to enjoy reading my sometimes incoherent ramblings 😂

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junesaintfrancis · 5 months

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"Mother God," the Ultimate White Thief [ramble]

I was aware of Amy Carlson's death when it first hit the news (and subsequently AskAMortician’s YouTube channel), and I laughed and brushed it off. I so often fall into the trap of simply dismissing cult-related deaths, of thinking, ‘Well, another idiot died and it’s no one’s fault but theirs.’ But I watched the HBO docuseries and was left feeling somewhere between disappointed and pissed off at the pandering they did to these batshit, evil, and racist individuals.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I, myself, am white. If you are interested in yoga, meditation, or other non-Anglo spiritual practices, please learn them from people who belong to the culture from which they originate, and be mindful; do not appropriate from other cultures.

SECOND DISCLOSURE: This is a ramble post. These are just my thoughts and observations; I have not looked at academic literature for this post, and neither is it properly sorted. I may turn it into an actual piece eventually.

I could talk about the mechanisms of cult hivemind all I want, but something else caught my attention. I think Amy Carlson and LHW is a fantastic example of white [Conservative] women co-opting [appropriating] Eastern spirituality for their own malignant gain.

Watch this amazing, in-depth video that gives much more context and history if you don’t know who I’m talking about: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f81Az_2Fvek I won’t be discussing the history of Love Has Won; this is simply me pointing out how common it is to see appropriated Eastern spiritual principles within these Neo-Nazi white ‘spirituality’ groups and talking about why this phenomenon may be so common.

I don’t think religio-cultural appropriation is always obvious, either. Yoga is incredibly mainstream (and there’s even a massive Christian population who bitches about it being ‘demonic’), and so is meditation; but both of these have been appropriated by the Anglo world from South Asian spiritual practices (and other indigenous cultural beliefs) with zero regards to their cultural origins. I mean, think of all the little plastic dreamcatchers you can buy at the store. Think of the growing popularity of “healing crystals” and how now even stores like Claire’s and Target sell jewelry meant to balance, or heal, or ease anxiety. These practices are beautiful, complex, and meaningful--and they are now becoming mass-produced, watered down, and stolen by some of the most insidiously evil and/or stupid folk on the internet.

Conspirituality is the term for this. Not the appropriation, but the mixing of it with a conspiratorial obsession with alternative beliefs, big government conspiracies, paranoia, 5G, aliens building the pyramids, you name it. It’s especially dangerous when white people are the perpetrators--now, not only do you have someone stealing from another culture and using those cultural practices to actively harm others, but this person, in their whiteness, now has social power over the oppressed groups who actually own these practices. And it gets rebranded as “new age spirituality.” The new age spirituality provides a sense of community and panders to the Covid fears -- and pre-existing racism and antiSemitism -- and provides someone, or something, to blame. Thus we begin heading towards the antiSemitic point of no return. “We declare peace on earth” my ass.

And obviously, Love Has Won is guilty of all of this and more. If you’re familiar with Amy and LHW, then you’re probably already aware of the time she went to Hawaii and then claimed she was [Tutu] Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of volcanoes and fire, and the creator of the Hawaiian Islands. She is clearly not afraid to appropriate whatever indigenous culture she can in order to build her facade of being a god herself, and it’s specifically her whiteness (and perhaps schizophrenia and plenty of drugs) that emboldens her. This just scratches the motherfucking surface.

Here, Amy takes credit for her Chakra system ‘cleansing’ sessions (which may or may not include poisoning yourself with colloidal silver). Further down the document, she mentions opening your third eye. Zero mentioning of the true origin of these practices, nor their cultural weight.

This is the third page of her “5D Healing Guide” document. Not only is she claiming Chakra knowledge and healing crystals, but . . . I mean, come on. You can’t use Sanskrit and then claim the fucking practice. Also, nowhere on her websites nor ‘guides’ includes the Sanskrit words for the Chakras.

Like I said before, this shit is dangerous. The watering down of these beautiful spiritual practices and then subsequently claiming and disfiguring them is almost always tied to Neo-Nazism, QAnon conspiracy theories, and a rejection of common-sense medical philosophy. Why do white women in particular so often fall into this wellness-to-Nazism pipeline, even if they weren’t overtly racist before? It’s because these white folk will always fall into the comforts and power of white supremacy; and make no mistake: much of this ‘mystic spirituality’ is white supremacy. The power to take from cultures and claim it as your own -- and the immunity to criticism -- is also white supremacy. White supremacist spirituality isn’t just a spiritual belief, either; it’s a thriving market that is powered by racism and medical Orientalism.

But still, why? ‘Buddhism and Whiteness: Critical Reflections’, edited by George Yancy and Emily McRae, has a wonderful chapter [titled ‘The interdependence and emptiness of Whiteness’ by Bryce Huebner] which discusses the emptiness and fragility of whiteness, the teachings of Buddhism, social castes, and their interconnectedness. Whiteness has no connected culture; it is a feeble social category. What ethnic culture do white Americans belong to? Most cannot name one. Rather than connecting with their ancestral cultures, white Americans often choose to steal from others which are closer, and those from which they have the power to steal from.

And, as I’ve made abundantly clear by now, this is exceptionally dangerous. White wellness culture so often leads into the paranoia, the distrust, and feeds off of the pre-existing racism that is ingrained into every white American.

“It’s the same thing with the Jews. It’s like Hitler knew the truth…” (said by Ashley Peluso). They explain that the dark forces conspiring against them, the ‘Cabal,’ don’t have souls. This is rhetoric that has excused entire genocides of people. Have you seen ‘NPC’ dramas in spiritual circles? This is that cranked up to the max.

A bunnnnch of antiSemitic bullshit. The ‘Cabal’ is a common QAnon talking point; the Cabal are members of a Satanic, baby-eating, pedophile ‘deep state’ (and Donald Trump will save humanity from them??). Who is the deep state, you might ask? Well, usually it’s Jewish people.

“Hitler didn’t want to go into the same banking system as the cabal. He didn’t want to join their mafia, so they took him out and they blamed him. They are the ones who bombed the concentration camps, created dysfunction, lied, faked the numbers, they did it to themselves and blamed it on them just like they lie about Trump.” Those are the words of Ashley Peluso. It always, always, always comes back to hating Jews. In other videos, she claims that Black people are “out of control” because of Jewish “programming.”

Jason Castillo, the co-leader of LHW, is also on video saying the N-word repeatedly. He says, “There’s nowhere to hide, cockroach. A [N-word]. That’s what a cockroach is. An [N-word].” Love Has Won members also subscribe to the “All Lives Matter” BS, and claim that BLM is a ‘cult.’ How ironic.

And I won’t even get started on the racism of believing aliens built the fucking pyramids.

And, finally:

I don't doubt it.

#amy carlson #love has won #cult #religion #appropriation #cultural appropriation #ramblings #rambles #rant post

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juuls · 2 months

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Alright!

I’m looking for people to every so often inquire how I’m holding up/hold me accountable to the following:

After years of a calorie dense (and boring) diet due to long covid severe nausea for the last 3.5 years, mixed in with admittedly heavy alcohol (they say trauma can hit out of the blue even years later, sad to say it’s true) use in the last year… I am ashamed to say I gained all the weight I’d originally lost and then some from my last time.

It embarrasses me to say I started at 245 yesterday.

I walk my dogs twice a day but they don’t make it much of an exercise, though I get on my indoor cycle for 30mins at least 4x a week.

Tried Ozempic, made my nausea explode.

I don’t really have the energy to throw in a higher pace walk for myself on top of my dog walks. Fibromyalgia and long covid are exhausting.

But I’m starting Nutrisystem again (jerks won’t ship frozen foods to Canada!!! so, just the plain, preserved ones) and hoping the structure will help me physically and mentally. I lost a routine and really need one back, and one of my own, not revolving around someone else’s.

So far, first night, 2lbs lost, though that will slow down after the first 7-10 days.

Besides decreasing my pain levels, losing weight would make me eligible for breast reduction surgery (another thing keeping me from, say, jogging, or just… existing without pain in general).

I’ll include a few photos of my starting weight/as I gained weight, and a few of my goal size as inspiration.

But what I wouldn’t mind if someone checks in once in a while and asks how the weight loss is doing. If any of you do that (along with @cuthian my dear one) I’d be supremely grateful. A support network is key, especially with the alcoholism which I am entirely ashamed of.

Find pics below the cut!

Current/recent (I don’t have many full body shots but you can really tell with ny double chin):

Previous/lost weight last time:

My biggest indicators are my face (rounder, plumper, double chin)(and my beer belly from drinking, now) and so comparing face to face seems a good starting goal to grab onto. I mean… I have a cute chin! I want that back.

Sadly, one of my medications adds about 15lbs total… but I got down to 180lbs last time I tried this even with my medication. So it’s doable. And my parents are paying for the Nutrisystem again, on the oath of no more alcohol and I try my best.

Though I will fight anyway who doesn’t include me in special family dinner with shawarma wraps, but I got the calories sorted, yay! Just some extra exercise.

Thanks for listening to my very personal ramble. Again, if you’d like to help, please reach out whenever. Even just cheerleading/a like here and there, is great encouragement. ❤️💜💙

Love y’all muchly. 😘😁

#weight loss #Nutrisystem #progress report #personal #chronic illness #chronic pain #support system

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cordeliawhohung · 6 months

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if you don’t mind me asking, what are you in the medical field? i think that’s really cool!!

hello! i don't mind at all!!!

i'm a clinical assistant! also sometimes called a clinicians assistant or CA for short (: when you go to the doctor, we're the people who will take you to your room, maybe take your blood pressure/other vitals and whatnot for the doctor! we're also tasked with cleaning rooms, handling paperwork, and other things, but those are the big parts!

i'm also trained to do front desk stuff as well, as in handle insurance stuff and patient intake paperwork (which i hate both of these so much and would literally much rather clean blood out of bed sheets lmfao)

i'm currently working here to save up to go back to school (thanks covid) to get a degree to be a radiology technician (: if all goes well, i can specialize in targeted radiation therapy and work for an oncologist, or maybe i'll just be a traveling rad tech and end up in europe somewhere which would be dope.

anyway this turned into a bit of a ramble but uh yeah (: thanks for the question! i'd love to dive into more medical stuff if anyone's curious!

#core talks #core responds #i try and keep things short and sweet but literally cannot #i used to want to be a pediatric oncologist!!#but i don't want to do that much school lmfao #a school in san fransico wanted me in their medical program for a bit-#-after some research i did on immunotherapy #but that shit is expensive #also i am NOT smart enough for that type of research idk what they were thinking #i was also a sophomore in high school so like #i would've failed so hard lmfao #oh look now i'm rambling in the tags #jfc ignore me

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terror-slut · 2 years

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Change of Heart

Chapter 07/?? Click HERE for this fics masterlist!

Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.

Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader

Word count: 2149

Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, torture, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are being added.

A/N: and when I felt like I was an old cardigan… you put me on and said I was your favourite.

Strolls in 1,5 month late, who’s surprised… Not that it’s an excuse but I got a promotion at work, got covid and Sumeru came out so I was a little distracted 😭 dottore anyone???

Careful knocks rap against the white door of Dr. Brenner’s office. Without bothering to look up from the pile of paperwork in front of him, he gives a low hum that grants the unseen person behind the door permission to enter. With a soft click, the door opens.

“You wanted to see me, Martin?”

“Yes, Doctor. Come on in,” he says, re-capping the fountain pen that delicately rests between his fingers before he lazily gestures to an empty chair across from him.

The pediatrician sends her superior a tight lipped smile as she takes her seat. Dark circles have appeared underneath her eyes again, just like they had a few weeks prior. Dr. Brenner decides against commenting on her exhausted appearance, figuring there is nothing to be gained by doing so. If she wishes to share her troubles, he knows she will do so out of her own volition.

“So,” he begins. “How are the children?”

The question that leaves his lips is not the question she anticipated he’d ask, and her tense shoulders slightly lower, in sync with her guard. What she had expected instead were questions about Henry, perhaps followed by a scolding on her inability to deliver. Instead, Dr. Brenner seems occupied with his test subjects. Thankfully, her results on that front are a far cry from the lack luster results Henry has provided her with.

“They’re quite well. 002 seems to grow stronger by the day and little 011 is making great progress in regards to opening up and accepting her powers,” the pediatrician eagerly replies, happy to have her mind taken off of Peter for just a moment.

Dr. Brenner hums in approval, his blue eyes intently focused on her own. It takes her a lot not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. If it wasn’t for a good dose of common sense, she’d think Brenner could read her mind.

“I think 011 could benefit from a little more one on one counseling. She seems to trust you a great deal,” the pediatrician rambles on.

“Yes, I think you’re right. Building a parent-child relationship pays off just as I expected it would,” he replies, more so speaking to himself than to her, but as she has previously read his notes on Henry, it’s not difficult to figure out that he is speaking of his trial of errors from before. Unsure of what to say next, she stays silent.

Not much at all had changed with Peter. After their initial talk where he so carelessly cut off the ties between the two of them, she hasn’t had the guts to talk to him again, afraid of the cruelty that might leave his mouth next.

His words, his lies, still echo around her mind as she mulls them over time and time again. “Don’t take it personally, doctor. I simply prefer to keep my personal life separated from my work and vice versa.”

His personal life, she thinks, and resists the urge to scoff. Such an obvious lie, yet she couldn’t call him out on it without exposing her own muddled truth, much like a biologically faulty spider trapped within its own sticky web.

Since that faithful morning where Peter claimed they were simply just co-workers and he was only being friendly with her, that friendliness has dissipated into nothingness. The pediatrician is quite certain the tall blonde is avoiding her at all costs, and speaking to her seems completely out of the question for him.

Her mood swings between annoyance and desperation. She wants his friendship back, the attentiveness he treated her with those first six months. She wants him back. But above all, the pediatrician still wants to help him. Her anger disappears like snow on a sunny day whenever she gets reminded of the boy behind the now fully grown man. Whatever his reasoning is for locking her out of his life, her determination has far from watered down.

Empathy mingled with sympathy washes over her in quiet waves when she thinks of the pictures of young Henry Dr. Brenner has shown her once, back when he still had a family, back when he was still allowed to go outside. What would he look like now if nature regularly embraced him? Hair bleached by the sun, his skin warm and tan… She can picture it perfectly, with herself by his side in the prettiest sundress, happy. Normal…

“And Peter?” The sudden deep voice startles her out of her daydreams, Brenner’s icy gaze coldly assessing her.

“W-what?” She asks brainlessly before quickly pulling herself together. “What about Peter?”

“Let me be frank,” he says, placing his folded hands on the desk between them. She knows those words can’t mean anything good. “You haven’t turned in any progress reports for weeks now.*”

The silence that follows is thick with an uncomfortable tension. She can think of a million lies to tell her boss but she ends up settling for a half truth.

“It takes some time. He’s a complicated man. I don’t want to overwhelm him,” she answers. It only takes a second for Dr. Brenner’s expression to sour, far from satisfied with her answer.

“I hired you because you promised to deliver,” he speaks, his tone soft but his words harsh.

“I know,” she agrees meekly.

“If you fail to deliver, I can no longer justify your paycheck to the board,” he says as she worries her lip between her teeth.

“I understand, Sir,” she replies, although she really wants to throw the fact that he has had years to work with Henry, and still left empty handed in his face.

His expression softens when his gaze falls on her worried face and he reaches out to put his warm hand over her own.

“I know you can do it, doctor,” he says, and gives her hand a little squeeze. “And I know it takes time, but the board wants to see results. Just hand in a report with what you’ve been doing, I’m sure they’ll lighten up.”

Dr. Brenner pulls back from her and straightens his back while he sends her a kind smile, the one she knows he uses on the kids, too. With some difficulty, she suppresses a shiver.

“I’ll start right away,” she says, standing up from her seat. “Thank you for your advice, sir.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies, a toothy smile plastered on his face. The pediatrician can’t help but compare him to a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Oh, and please send the next one in on your way out, Doctor.”

“Will do,” she answers absentmindedly, already drafting up the report the board so desperately wants in her head. Can they not understand that she has more to do than just Henry? That he is complicated, and she doesn’t want to rush him when she knows, they all know, he can react unpredictably.

With a scoff, she closes the door to Martin’s office behind her. Business has no place in medicine, she thinks to herself for the umpteenth time since the start of her career.

Sunken so deep in her own thoughts, she doesn’t see the white figure in front of her until she collides with the hard planes of a firm chest.

“Oh, apologies! I was just-“ words escape her when it’s Peter’s blonde hair that comes into view. He looks as disoriented as she feels when he softly grabs her shoulders to create some distance between them, while simultaneously stabilizing her.

“Just what?” He repeats, and those are the first words he’s spoken to her in weeks.

“… Just thinking,” she finishes, though the warmth of his hands on her shoulders makes it hard for her to focus on anything else. What would it be like to feel his hands elsewhere? If only they would slide past her shoulders, down her arms to her waist and grab her there, pull her closer to him… She blushes at the thought. Now is not the time, she reminds herself.

“Don’t think too hard,” he says. “You might hurt yourself.”

Though he could be making a dig at her, his soft, full lips are curled into a smile. Relieved, she lets out a laugh.

“Thanks for the warning,” she smiles. With some difficulty, he responds with a smile of his own. God, she’s so beautiful.

Though her mind feels fuzzy and her heart seems to beat out of her chest, it only takes a second of clarity for her to wonder why exactly he’s on this side of Hawkins Laboratory.

“No orderly duties for today?” She asks, her curiosity overtaking the urge to take in his beauty for as long as he’d let her.

“Oh, no,” it’s only then that he lets go of her shoulders, and the sudden lack of warmth that his hands had created makes her shiver. “Not for another hour. Dr. Brenner has requested to see me.”

The subtle shiver from earlier quickly merges into a cold chill all over her body. The pediatrician doesn’t know what to think of this newfound information, but she knows it can’t be anything good. Regardless, she sends him a kind smile.

“Oh?” She asks casually, letting curiosity win once again. “What for?”

“I suspect it’s just a performance review,” he replies, taking a step back from her to create some distance.

Stay in control, Henry.

“Well, good luck then, Peter. I’m sure there is no reason to worry,” she says with a soft smile. Her heartbeat increases when he returns hers with one of his own. Oh God, how she has missed his movie star smiles, his presence, his voice…

“I’m sure,” he repeats, and when he steps past her, his shoulder brushes softly against her own and with great difficulty, she suppresses the urge to grab his hand.

“Have a good one,” she says instead, and instantly regrets her own stupid stiffness.

For his part, Henry lets her words bounce off of the shielded walls he has put up for when she happens to be around, something he seems to have a sixth sense for. Even when she doesn’t notice him, he always sees her. It seems the more he tries to avoid her, the more she appears around him.

With a fast rap, he knocks on Brenner’s office door. The white haired man grants him permission to enter and in turn, Peter makes his way into the bleak room, shaking all thoughts of the pediatrician.

“Please, take a seat, 001,” Brenner says, but Peter shakes his head.

“I’m fine where I am,” he states, refusing to be in a position where he can’t easily get away should it come to that.

“I won’t hurt you, 001. You know me better than that,” despite his friendly demeanor, Peter has learned his lesson a long time ago. Have your guard up at all time. His kindness is a trap.

“Suit yourself,” Martin says when Peter’s silence stretches out. “I’ve requested you here to ask how you’ve been, 001.”

His muscles involuntarily tense up as a chill spreads across his back at Brenner’s unassuming question.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Peter replies. The fear that freezes up his entire body is nothing new to him or the little boy he once was. That same question is usually followed by physical pain that would haunt him for days to come, no matter how carefully he chooses his response.

“Oh, not to worry 001. If you had, I would have known about it long before asking you about it,” the older man says, a smile fitting for a man like him on his lips. Peter doesn’t dare exhale the breath he holds.

“No, that’s not what I’m asking you,” Dr. Brenner says, when Peter stays silent. He crosses his arms as the silence protrudes. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

Peter briefly wonders if the white haired man means to trick him with this question. Memories of the past few weeks replay before his eyes, but he shakes his head in denial.

“Hmm,” Brenner lets out while uncrossing his arms and standing up. In a relaxed pace, he inches closer to the tall, young man standing in his office. “You ought to be more perceptive, 001. I know you have it in you.”

Their gazes connect starkly for a moment, before Brenner reluctantly takes a step away from the younger man.

“You can go,” with a ninety degree turn, he dismisses Peter, who in turn can’t seem to leave the frigid office fast enough. His heart beats wildly in his throat when he exhales several shaky breaths, Brenner’s words replaying in his head over and over.

The old man has his ways to drive Peter crazy, torture him psychologically as well as physically. He never knows what part of what Martin tells him he can believe, but Peter knows one thing.

He was alluding to the pediatrician.

A/N: I just realized the reason I hate my own writing is because it’s too academic? Also Brenner is a meddling mfer…

* this is a subtle dig at my own shitty update progress LMAOO I’m a little funny

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Don’t be shy, let me know!

Tag List: @tirramasuu @ancientbeing10 @njutul @lauftivy @madamerebloger @kokichiis7 @immazebrah @severuslovebot @hobii-c0re @pechvogal @raineeace @peterballardsgirlfriend @shatteredflowers @thedoubleexposurephotography @dogmom2014 @daffy-ducks-hug @odd1seven @myboykillme @mm0thie @nymariel @philophxbicrxmantic @clown-princesa @leavemealone-7 @jaseena @nobody-000 @yourmomdotcom42069 @letitrainpoison @mochacake2016 @shewantsvengeance @evelynseventyr @0zhen @mermaid-trash @lu123sworld @majahu @seafrost-fangirl @whore4hellfire @aeclark04 @rayballs66

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pollencoveredman · 1 year

Text

written in pain, written in awe

(cw: mentions of covid, mentions of ED)

“dennis?” mac whispers, craning his head around the half-open door of dennis’s hospital room. “den, you awake, man?”

dennis lifts his head from his pillow and rubs his eyes, yawning. “hey,” he mumbles as mac sits down next to his bed. the lights are off, but through the crack of light coming through the curtains, mac can tell how pale he is. “what… what are you doing here?”

“oh, i work here,” mac deadpans. “coming to see you, dumbass, what d’you think?”

dennis rolls his eyes and sits up, turning the light on next to him. he winces as the room turns bright white, shielding his eyes with a shaky hand.

“you good?”

“yeah, yeah, just…” he trails off, blinking slowly. “christ, i feel awful.”

mac frowns. “yeah, you sound pretty rough. but at least you’re okay, right? i mean, when dee told me what happened, i was so scared, dude, she made it sound like you died.” he shakes his head, eyes wide as he takes a deep breath. “i’m just glad you’re alive.”

“yeah. guess so.”

“that sheep wool really got to you, huh?” mac jokes, smiling weakly.

dennis feigns a laugh. he admits it’s a little funny, but he doesn’t want to be laughing at any of mac’s jokes right now. he doesn’t want to encourage him. he’s mad at him. he’s mad at him for not caring enough, for not dropping everything the minute he started showing symptoms of covid, for calling him an idiot for not getting vaxxed (though dennis admits, now, he wasn’t wrong).

for not being there.

“hey, den, i’m sorry i was a dick before,” mac blurts out, as if he could read his mind. “i was all caught up in being a priest and stuff, i didn’t realise how sick you were and if i knew i totally would’ve come and helped out— i mean, not too much, ‘cause i got shit to do, y’know, and i don’t want all your germs, but—”

“quiet,” dennis groans, pulling the covers up to his nose. “head hurts. stop talking.”

mac blinks. “oh. sorry, man.” he does this a lot. he feels bad about something, tries to apologise, starts rambling, inevitably makes things worse. “i can go, if you want.”

“no, no, stay here,” dennis says hurriedly, voice suddenly thick with desperation. god, how hard is it for mac to understand? he needs him here. just like always.

“okay, okay, calm down, dude. god.” he catches himself and quickly clasps his hands together, looking up to the ceiling. “sorry, father.”

“thanks for—” he breaks off into a coughing fit, doubling over as he clutches his chest. mac lays a hand on his shoulder, holding him firmly while he waits for it to subside.

“oh, jesus,” dennis says breathlessly. “thanks for coming here, man.”

mac grimaces. “yeah, of course. that cough sounds nasty, dude,” he comments, his voice a mix of concern and disgust. “you need some water?”

“no, i’m good, it’s just…” he breathes in deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “just really painful. feels like i swallowed a foghorn.”

there’s an awkward silence, bar the sound of dennis’s laboured breathing, as mac runs his hand up and down his back.

“you can stop touching me now,” dennis mumbles, sniffling. “don’t want you to catch my covid.”

“catch your covid? i don’t know if that’s grammatically correct, den.” mac laughs a little at the sight of dennis rolling his eyes and flopping back down into his bed. “besides, i’m not gonna catch it. i have the power of god on my side; he’ll protect me.”

“sure, asshole,” dennis sighs. “just don’t be an idiot.”

“says the guy who didn’t get vaccinated and then denied he had anything wrong with him until he nearly died.”

dennis groans weakly, triggering another cough and muffling it into his pillow.

“dude, cover your mouth; you’re gonna get all your germs everywhere.” mac chastises. “dee told me some other stuff that happened as well. but i’ll spare you the embarrassment for now.”

“she told you?” dennis says incredulously, sitting up a little too fast. he clutches his head as he feels the room start to spin, tears pricking at his eyes. “oh, fuck… oh, that goddamn bitch. that goddamn bitch.”

mac lays a hand on his knee, patting it awkwardly. “hey, c’mon, lay back down. you look awful, man.”

dennis glares at him, but obliges anyway. he knows he looks awful. he knows he’s white as a sheet, he knows his hair’s sticking up in all the wrong places, he knows how red his eyes are. he doesn’t need to be told that, to feel even worse about the way he looks when he’s already feeling like this stupid hospital bed should just open up and swallow him whole.

“den, have you, um… have you eaten today?” mac asks gently. he wants to cry when dennis shakes his head. he knows he shouldn’t be surprised; dennis never has an appetite most of the time, let alone when he’s sick, but he thinks this stupid irish hospital should at least know to keep a better eye on him.

it’s not like they haven’t tried. they’ve brought him various plates of disgusting hospital food, telling him he needs to eat if he wants to get out of here soon, but dennis has cultivated a wide range of deceptions to get himself out of eating over the past thirty years. those goddamn fools that call themselves doctors should be able to tell, he thinks — not that he cares.

“please try and eat something later,” he whispers. “you’ll feel so much better.”

dennis chews on his lip, avoiding eye contact.

“please, den. promise me, okay?”

“yeah. promise.”

mac smiles. he knows he probably won’t, but he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

“i met this guy at the seminary,” he starts, wanting to keep things light. “he was gorgeous. he looked like an example photo at a barber shop. he was meant to, like, show me around and shit, but i was like, no way, ‘cause how the hell am i going to focus with a guy like that around?” he laughs giddily as he pictures him, but stops himself abruptly as he sees dennis’s eyes starting to close.

“den?”

he clicks his tongue fondly, standing up slowly as dennis falls asleep. he sets a gentle hand on his forehead, slowly moving down to his cheek, his neck, and shit, he’s so fucking warm. though, he supposes, a 105-degree fever doesn’t go down quickly.

dennis stirs as he goes to leave, and he wonders if he woke him up, but he’s out cold. he’s always been a fairly restless sleeper, so him falling asleep this fast feels like an accomplishment to mac, even if it is a covid-induced nap.

mac sanitises his hands as he walks to the door, of course, because even if god is protecting him from covid, it’s better to be safe than sorry, especially now that catholic is only fourth on his roster of important identities.

he flicks the light off, making the room eerily dark and quiet if not for the sound of dennis’s snoring. he smiles a little, and even in this state, he’s never been more enamoured with a guy.

“feel better, den.”

#title from oh you pretty things by david bowie #this so happened in my mind i refuse to believe mac wasnt going crazy while dennis had covid #not after watching the gang chokes #macdennis #iasip #fanfiction #mac mcdonald #dennis reynolds

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kiraridertime03 · 29 days

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Finding my Visibility: A Ramble-y Writing

I hope you don’t mind this post here, it’s a bit personal, but I’ve needed to crystallize some thoughts, especially given what today is. I hope you don’t mind.

I created this little blog to act as a way to express myself properly. My realization of, well, being trans in some way, has only come very recently, within the past few months, really. It has been a long, awkward process. About 3 years worth of on and off questioning has led me to this conclusion, with some especially interesting breakthroughs getting me here. However, I am not really in a position where I can easily just come out to those around me. Making little bits online like this, even if I’m not especially social about it, has been especially affirming for me.

You know, it’s funny. Like many others I’ve seen, I did do little affirming things before “figuring it out.” Back when I first got to High School, I decided to start growing out my hair. In part, it was a pre existing bit of rebellion, what little I could do. I was taken to Catholic schooling all my life, and in my combined elementary and middle school, part of the dress code was hair length. Girls had to have long hair and boys had to have short hair, excluding certain cultural things that would probably get them sued. This did lead to a funny childhood slip where I determined gender primarily on hair length, leading to me being really confused by girls with short hair. However, my High School, while still being Catholic, let up on long hair. Therefore, on a whim, I decided to grow my hair out, spurred on further by seeing one senior with extremely long hair. I rationalized it by saying I didn’t like haircuts, mainly the prickly feeling I would have for the rest of the day around my collar. Now I see that it was more so that I found more negatives than positives in going to get my hair cut short at SportsClips.

I say this because, towards the start of my questioning, there was this one interaction that has really stuck with me. I was in this honors physics class I took in my senior year of high school. It was a small class, there were only, like, 10 of us, made up mostly of my friends and their friends. Also, this one short soccer playing guy, but he doesn’t really matter. One of these people was this one trans girl. She was really the first trans person I ever encountered, and one of the first times I had ever encountered the concept of transness, outside of shitty conservative joke (singular) that I had inherently encountered growing up in a very conservative setting. Initially, she intimidated me, a lot. I didn’t know how to interact with her. For someone who made their entire personality “BEING GOOD AT ACADEMICS,” as I eschewed the entire concept of emotional fulfillment in any way, it didn’t compute. After Covid, I became more chill, but still felt that intimidation (all of which came internally, by the way, she was very nice). In this physics class, we had even begun interacting a little. This brings us to one random interaction in the end of one class. Us, as a class, are messing around, having a fun conversation. Then, for some reason, she says something like, “I grew out my hair because of my gender, you just kind of did it.” It was in a joking context, and I know the conversation led naturally there, but I don’t remember much of it, because my mind was preoccupied by the emotional panic of having my recently started questioning being clocked. It was a brief, yet intense panic, as I was still heavily denying myself, even still. After a bit, I eventually responded with my usual response when something came about for my appearance, “Oh yeah, It’s just because I’m lazy. I don’t really care how I look.” Usually, that was a good response, as it was often true.

Not with my hair length, though.

Cut to now, where I continue to let my hair be long, despite the hardships, a good 6 years on from my decision to let it grow out. I have a hard time of imagining my existence with short hair. I’m not 100% content with it, I wish I knew how to care for it better, something I am trying to learn better. However, I still do it because it, overall, gives me a sense of pure, positive emotion that I had lost for a long time. That’s been a lot of what has led me down figuring out my gender. I have tried to follow what has given me that emotional fulfillment, that sense of true feeling that I lost in youth. I mean, it’s not something that being in a religious family necessary perpetuates. I’ve found Catholicism, at least how it has been expressed around me, celebrates fear and repression. It especially doesn’t go well in a family with specific, traumatic losses, which become rationalized as “God’s Plan for Us.” Seeing that, seeing my grief and sadness as “God’s Plan,” I think, ultimately led me to repress all positive emotion, only allowing for sadness, panic, or the pure apathy I felt with masculinity.

However, finding my gender, or at least, the parts of it I have found, has given me an indescribable sense of emotion that I can only rationalize as “Joy,” I guess. I think it goes deeper than that, but I don’t think any language would have the proper words for what I feel. Yes, there has been sadness for what I’ve lost and fear for what hurdles may come my way, but the Joy is also there, a joy that I only associated with guilt before, thanks to all of that Catholic guilt. I found that joy thanks to other trans people being visible.

I think that is why today is so important. Being able to see other trans people be happy, be who they are, regardless, is what led me to detangle my guilt from who I truly was. I think it can do this for so many others, too. I have found that, even while having to be closeted in life, even the little bits where I can both see people like me and express myself gives me so much joy, that I can keep going on in my day, my week, my year, and I thank all those who were there, unintentionally, to help me figure out who I am. I am posting this in part to act as that expression, to find that joy through that apathy and pain, and also, hopefully, to help people like me.

So, as I sit here, typing this out in my funnily trans colored JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 5: Golden Wind T Shirt, that yes, I’m trans. I may have some shakiness in the exact specifics, but I know that I identify as more femme than I do as my assigned masculinity. I am Allison Marie, you can call me KiraRider, though. I hope you all can find yourself as I’ve found myself.

Now, I need to go back to getting deeply into Pirate media for some reason.

#transfem #transgender #trans

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doomandgloomfromthetomb · 1 year

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Bob Dylan - The Power & The Glory (A 2022 Touring Year Story)

Bob Dylan kicks off another leg of the Rough and Rowdy Ways World Wide Tour this week in Osaka, Japan. Will he playing a totally revamped set? I'm guessing no, but who the hell knows? Meanwhile, I'm going to start spreading the rumor that Bob will almost certainly be releasing an album of new material in 2023. I have nothing, absolutely nothing, to back this up, but I'm just going to try to manifest it. Manifest with me, people!

To get psyched for more live Dylan, check out this very very nice compilation of audience recordings from last year's shows, gathering some highlights and rarities — like Bob's Jerry Lee Lewis tribute in Dublin or the very rowdy "Friend of the Devil" in San Francisco. And is that a little Twin Peaks theme I'm hearing inserted into "Key West" from March 6??? Prove me wrong!

Another way to get psyched: check out James Adams' new episode of the Pretty Good Stuff series on Aquarium Drunkard. This latest hour features some of Bob's finest performances in Japan from over the decades. I was particularly blown away by the 1994 rendition of "What Good Am I?" — a truly outrageous and amazing vocal on that one.

One more thing! Last year, I wrote a review of the Dylan show I caught in San Diego, which for one reason or another, was never published. Here it is, plus a recording of the show, as an incredibly special treat for you Doom & Gloomsters.

Bob Dylan - San Diego Civic Theatre, San Diego, California, June 17, 2022

You couldn’t count on much over the past 30+ years, but you could usually assume that Bob Dylan was somewhere out there, still on the road, perpetually headed for another joint. But the bewildering pandemic year of 2020 brought it all to a shuddering halt, causing the longest break in Dylan’s relentless live performance schedule since the mid-1980s. Bobcats across the globe had to ask themselves that tough question: Was the Never Ending Tour finally … ending?

Of course not. Or at least not yet. In late 2021, Dylan kicked off the Rough and Rowdy Ways World Wide Tour, which promises to stretch into 2024 — an ambitious span of time in an increasingly unpredictable decade. What keeps him going? One can only assume that, at this point, Bob doesn’t need the cash (if he ever really did). In his own eccentric way, he must still be interested in connecting with audiences, sharing his songs, reveling in the power that this music delivers. And maybe, just like the rest of us, the various COVID-19 lockdowns made Dylan a little stir-crazy.

Whatever his reasoning may be, there was a tingling sense of anticipation in the air when the lights went down at the San Diego Civic Theatre this past June. The songwriter’s advanced age (he turned 81 in May) and the still precarious nature of live shows these days makes Dylan’s continuing presence feel all the more precious. And to be sure, when you got your first glimpse of the man — looking a little frail, a tad ghostly — your first thoughts were of his (and perhaps your own) all-too-human mortality. As he sang later: “I’ve already outlived my life by far.” But Dylan refused to let us wallow. Instead, he kicked off the show with a long, occasionally shambolic, guitar solo over a sweet, bluesy shuffle. As it rambled on — and on! — you couldn’t help but grin. Never mind mortality — this Nobel Prize winner still just loves to jam.

“What’s the matter with me? I don’t have much to say,” were the first words Dylan growled this evening — the opening lines of 1971’s “Watching The River Flow.” But they were sung with a wink. As proven by his 2020 masterpiece Rough And Rowdy Ways, Dylan still has plenty to say. The San Diego setlist (which rarely changed from night to night during this spring/summer jaunt) was dominated by numbers from the album — the only tune missing was “Murder Most Foul” (which Dylan likely thinks of as a separate piece altogether). It’s a daring move. Bob has never been of the McCartney school — you’re never guaranteed to hear the hits at a Dylan show. But he hasn’t played shows so heavily tilted towards new material since the “born again” days of the late 1970s and early 1980s.

The gambit paid off. The Rough And Rowdy Ways numbers were captivating, from the hushed majesty of “I Contain Multitudes” to the deep blues crawl of “Crossing The Rubicon,” each moment filled with drama and gravitas. Dylan’s vocals sounded magnificent and clear; those Sinatra records from the last decade seem to have made him rethink his approach, with fantastic results. The sweet croon he slipped into on a ravishing “I’ve Made Up My Mind To Give Myself To You” was positively breathtaking, as he held dangerously long notes, the music breaking down beautifully behind him. On the other end of the spectrum, “My Own Version Of You” was a harrowing ride, Dylan relishing the song’s increasingly grotesque imagery. And even though the new stuff is relatively fresh from his pen, Dylan typically couldn’t help toying with an arrangement or two: “Key West (Philosopher Pirate)” was reinvented entirely with a curious chord structure and bewitching vocal that traded the studio version’s apocalyptic dread for a more open-ended playfulness.

The band here (stalwart bassist Tony Garnier, guitarists Bob Britt and Doug Lancio, multi-instrumentalist Donnie Herron and drummer Charley Drayton) deserves special credit. There was rarely a lead voice breaking out in the mix — save for Dylan’s nervous, Monk-ish piano solos. Instead, there was a cohesive collective synergy, instruments interlocking, rising and falling in unison. The result was a kind of richly textured minimalist blues rock, free of cliché, zero fat on the bone. Occasionally, Dylan would pick out a hypnotic riff and his musicians would circle it patiently, adding subtle colorings around the edges. Occasionally, they’d drop out entirely, as with the almost a capella intro to “Gotta Serve Somebody,” which gave Dylan plenty of space to play around in before the song kicked into a full-tilt boogie.

Bob’s chatter was limited to a brief but hearty band introduction towards the end, but he wasn’t entirely uncommunicative. Several times in-between songs, he’d step out from behind his upright piano, put a hand on his hip, cock his head and fix the crowd with a quizzical stare. Was he soaking in the applause? Trying to get a sense of who his audience is in 2022? Just letting us all get a good look at him? Maybe all of the above — but most of all, it seemed as though Dylan was silently asking, once again, after all these years: “How does it feel?”

#bob dylan #baby shark

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marvelettesassemblenow · 2 years

Text

Colour my heart

Pairing: Steve x F Reader

Summary: Steve picked up an old hobby – and it might helped that he was looking forward to see the woman selling the art supplies

Warnings: a robbery (nothing graphic, Steve just enters the crime scene and reader tells shortly about it), jealous Steve who might pulls his rank

Word Count: ~2.6k

A/N: Covid sucks – but it kind of gave me the time to finally finish one WIP. Also thanks to Nika @intrepidacious who pushed me to continue writing

In his youth Steve had loved drawing. He collected old stumps of pencils and sharpened them until he finally couldn’t hold them anymore. Even then he used the last of the pencil lead to shade something. It was hard for him to get new drawing materials, but it always brought him comfort.

Now there were many more colours and pens he could use. Currently he was trying his luck with oil painting. A few months ago, he had given graphite chalk a try, but he wasn’t really confident with what had appeared on the paper. And there might have been another reason for always trying new stuff.

„Hey Steve,“ a voice greeted him when he opened the door to the art supply store and a few seconds later the sound from the street was silenced and he could only make out the soft music that was playing in the background. His nose was filled with smells of fresh paint and he saw you with a brush in your hand at the counter.

„Hey sweetheart,“ he greeted you with a smile on his lips. The first time he had called you that it had been an accident and he had been mortified, but you didn’t complain and he thought he had seen a small smile on your face so he was brave and stuck to his new nickname for you.

„How are the oils treating you? Better than the chalk?“ you asked and put away the brush to give him your full attention.

„Better than the chalk, but I’m still not sure,“ he said and walked over. „Wanted to pick up a few more colours though.“

„Yeah, you know where they are. Or do you want my opinion?“ you offered, not wanting to overstep anything.

„I’ll take a look. I know where to find you, if I need your help.“ You nodded and he walked over to the station where the colours were. It didn’t take him long to find the colours he was missing. The shade of blue wasn’t the exact one he had in mind, but if he would mix them with the darker blue, he was sure he could create the colour of the shirt you had been wearing last week. But this was just a coincidence because he really had liked that colour on you. He strolled a little bit more through the store until he made his way back to you.

„Quiet day?“ he asked once he reached his destination.

„Yep, but it’s only the quiet before the storm. Tomorrow is Wednesday so the senior citizen group will make their biweekly visit. And we’ll get lots of new stuff tomorrow, so enjoy it while it lasts,“ you explained with a little laugh and Steve nodded as if he knew exactly what you were talking about.

It was about five minutes until your usual Wednesday group would arrive and you were busy moving the boxes that had just been delivered so they could at least walk into the store without bumping into them when the bell above the entrance told you you had a customer.

„Hello, welcome to... Steve?“ you asked confused as you had seen him just yesterday.

„Hey sweetheart, I just wanted to drop something off. You mentioned you had a busy day today, so, I ugh brought you some coffee.“ He rubbed his neck nervously, but you found it endearing. „I thought about getting you one from the café around the corner, but I didn’t know what you liked and we have a really good coffee machine. You know Tony, always buying the best,“ at this point he was only rambling. Of course you didn’t know Tony! The only other Avenger that you knew was Bucky and that was only because he came in with Steve when he decided to start drawing again. „So I hope you like it and the label said it should stay warm for a few hours, so even if you don’t have time to drink it immediately it should stay warm,“ he placed a coffee mug on the counter. You spotted some pink on the mug and took a closer look. Homemade Coffee Therapy stood there in black letters and you blinked a few times.

„Thank you so much, Steve. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it so much!" Before you could collect your thoughts, the bell rang again and the group entered the shop. Steve took it as his sign to leave and waved at you – after he held open the door for the older people and left.

„What a handsome gentleman,“ Betty said and eyed the mug that was still standing on the counter before you quickly put it behind.

That wasn’t the only time Steve brought you coffee. The next time he came over he handed you a mug – black, used but clean and without a sticker at the bottom that told you it was a new purchase. He traded it with the pinkish one and asked you if he should change the coffee. And after some time, Steve brought two coffees. One in a black mug for him and another on for you in a more colourful one.

„Hey,“ you greeted him with more enthusiasm. The bag with the washed coffee mugs was already standing behind the counter as Steve came in almost every Tuesday.

In return you were greeted with a big smile and the nickname you came to love. After exchanging pleasantries, you told him about an upcoming art class in the store. „If you want there’s still room. They’re using oil colours to learn a wet in wet technique.“

„Will you be there?“ he asked, which caused you to nod in reply. „Then you can count me in.“

„I didn’t even tell you the date,“ you laughed and after making sure that he was free that day, he told you he’d come again.

“Oh, this looks good,” he heard your voice behind him. You were quiet as you didn’t want to disturb the other painters, but you had to make sure that Steve know you liked what you saw. His shoulders dropped.

“This is nothing what hers looks like.” He sounded defeated. And when does Captain America sound defeated? Not that you could remember, so you just had to make sure that Steve knew that his was just as good – if not better. You bent forwards so your lips were near his ear, so he would hear you.

“It isn’t supposed to look like hers. This class is to learn how to use the colours. How you can blend them and you can create whatever you want with it. This is the beauty in art. It isn’t supposed to be a certain way. You can do whatever you want with it. There isn’t a right or wrong way. These are only pointers and I really like what you did with it,” you said and pressed his shoulder. It did take you some self-control to not press your lips against his cheek.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” And he didn’t sound as sad as before. “I’ll stay and help you clean afterwards. Maybe we could grab something to eat at the café the street down?”

“Psssshh,” the woman next to Steve made and he excused himself, but you couldn’t help to whisper that you’d love to get something to eat with him.

The café was pretty empty and you managed to pay for Steves order as well. He tried to protest but you told him he brought you coffee each week so you wanted to give him something too. The both of you took a seat in the corner of the room where you wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Tell me something about you that I don’t know. What made you pick up painting again?” you asked once your first hunger was sated.

“Oh that’s actually... Will it stay between us?” he asked and turned a little bit more serious.

“Oh, of course,” you said and put your fork down. You had thought it was an easy start into a conversation.

“I’m about to step a little bit down. I’ll hand over the shield, it’ll be a slow transition. I’ll still be an Avenger and I’ll still work, but I do have some more free time and Bucky thought it would have been a nice way to calm down and pick up an old hobby.”

“Wow,” you said not expecting that. “And is that okay for you?”

“Yeah, I feel like its time. I’ve done this for a while and I’m kind of tired. And I’m sure they need someone else. Someone from this time, who gets them. Who knows their problems and I think Sam is exactly the person they need.” He said and you had no doubt about that he meant it.

“As long as you are happy.”

“I’m starting to get there,” he smiled at you and you picked up your fork again.

“Are you okay?” Steve was out of breath once he reached you. If the door hadn’t been open Bucky would have been afraid that Steve would have ripped it out. He didn’t have any eyes for the police officer standing next to you or the other persons in the room, his only focus was on you.

“Steve,” you breathed. “What are you doing here?” If Steve wouldn’t have known you by now, he wouldn’t have noticed the light tremor that accomplished your voice.

“Are you okay?” he asked again once he reached out to you and his big hand cupped your face which cause you to feel safe.

“Yeah, I am,” you said but he wasn’t reassured.

“Sir, this is a crime scene,” the police officer next to you interrupted and it caused Steve to go rigid. He straightened his back, pushed out his breast and put on his Captain America face.

“It’s Captain to you and I am very aware of that, so I’m making sure that my girl is okay. I’m sure you will understand that, officer.” The stare he was giving the other man didn’t let him much choice other than to nod and take a step back. Despite his harsh behavior the hand on your cheek was still soft and his thumb was slightly stroking you skin.

“I’ll ask you for the last time and I’ll expect an honest answer, sweetheart. Are you okay?” The way he stood in front of you made you feel safe as he was shielding you from most of the gazes.

“A little shaken,” you admitted.

“Okay, I’ll get you out of here,” he said softly. “She’s done here today,” Steve said loudly and took a look at the office who had spoken to him before.

“Sir,” he started, but a gaze from Steve let him change the title. “Captain, we’re not done here.”

“But she is. If you have further questions send them to me,” he said and started to push you towards the exit.

“Steve, my bag,” you started to protest.

“Buck, will you grab it? It’s behind the desk.”

“Of course, pal. I’ll catch up to you,” his friend agreed and because he was so focused on you, he didn’t even see the smirk that was sitting on his face after he knew you were alright. Oh, Steve didn’t even know how deep he was in. But Bucky had a slight idea. He wasn’t even sure that the two of you were aware that you were holding hands when he caught up towards you.

“Why were you even there?” he heard your voice once he fell into step next to Steve – which made it almost impossible for anyone else to walk on that sidewalk.

“It’s Tuesday, I was on my way to you to bring the coffee,” he said but stopped when he spotted some shards on the floor.

“Is that my mug?” You stopped and picked up the shards before someone would injure themselves.

“Actually, we were on our way to deliver a coffee order when we heard the news about a robbery in a bypassing police car and Steve recognized the address and then there was no stopping him and nothing to do to save the mugs,” Bucky told you without an ounce of shame to rat out his friend and his worry about you, but held out his hands to take the pieces from your hand to drop them in the next trash can. “But at least you’re okay,” he added to make sure that you were more important than a cup. “What happened?” he asked.

“Buck,” Steve warned, but you said it was okay and told them about a robbery that had happened in the store. “A craft store? Who would rob out a craft store? I mean he got like 100 bucks from the cash register and he took like three pens that were lying on the table. Who does that?”

You didn’t realize it yet, but you had reached the Avengers tower. Steve navigated you through the hall and towards the elevator until you reached the floor. “I’ll grab you some water and something with sugar,” Bucky said and Steve lead you towards his room. Steve’s room was not what you had expected. You knew that he was painting – he was buying supplies at your place a lot. But you weren’t ready to see his art that was in front of his window.

“Steve, these are... You told me you didn’t like painting with the chalks but this is beautiful,” you said not being able to express what you felt when you saw his art.

Steve had some people who saw his art. They were like “This is nice”, “I like that colour” and that was it. But having you seeing it meant a lot more to him. You were busy looking at the pictures so you didn’t notice Bucky coming towards the room. He pushed a glass of water and a chocolate bar in Steves hand, placed your bag that he still carried next to the door, winked at Steve and closed the door after him.

Steve walked over to you and handed you the glass of water. “Thank you,” you replied and took a huge sip while you still looked at that painting that had caught your eyes. It was of a building and it featured a person with a very blue shirt. He might have thought of you, but it wasn’t noticeable in the painting.

“You said something in the store. You actually called me your girl and I wanted to ask if that was only to get me out of there or if you meant it?” You quickly took another sip of water as not to show how nervous you were.

“I did?” You face fell at Steve’s question. “I mean, I didn’t notice I did that. I’m sorry if I overstepped, I should have asked you out first,” he mumbled and the chocolate bar started to melt inside the wrapper as Steve’s body temperature and his grip tightened around it.

“You could still ask,” you offered.

“Would you say yes?”

“You’re asking me if I would say yes to a date with the handsome man that brings me coffee every Tuesday? You mean the man that makes me look forward to the second day in the week although I do have to do inventory of the materials which is the most boring part of my job? Of course I would say yes. I would take any chance to spend time with him.” You searched for a safe place to place your cup down.

“So, should I cook something for you? I heard my Mac ’n’ Cheese is mean,” he held out his hand to you and realized only when you wanted to take it that he still held that chocolate in his hand. You took it from him and placed it next to the water.

“I’ll be the judge of that, but lead the way,” you grabbed his hand and both of you left his apartment for your first kind of official date – because Steve still hadn’t officially asked.

Masterlist | Library Blog

divider by @fireflygraphics

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #capatain america x reader #steve x you #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fanfiction #is this actually me posting somethingß #avengers x reader #marvelettesassemblenow #writing #marvel fic

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findusinaweek · 1 year

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Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like. Hi! @aeide tagged me in this, thanks friend! It was tough!

1) “Everything I’ve Never Told You” by Celeste Ng. My fave. Read it in a class and it was fun seeing everyone find something that spoke to them. My oldest classmates were in their 60’s and they were blown away that Ng was not their age because of the details she put into the background of the story. This book makes me want to pull it apart in small chunks and savor each bite. Chinese-American family tries to understand a family member’s death. 2) “A Snake Falls to Earth” by Darcie Little Badger Something I read a few months back and just really enjoyed. Indigenous mythology and modern day collide. 3) “A Psalm for the Wild-Built” by Becky Chambers. A book that made me remember I am enough. My existence is my own and just being is enough. A soft, happy post apocalypse. Reading the sequel now. 4) “Salt: A World History” by Mark Kurlansky. My favorite non-fiction. The author is obsessed in a way that I just want to be taken on the ride for. I learned so much, everyone told me to “shut up about the salt book”. Very easy read but full of tangents. 5) “Pachinko” by Min Jin Lee. Min Jin Lee’s works are crushing. There is a show now, but I haven’t seen it. Historical fiction of a Korean family in Japan, 1910-1989. 6) “Walk Two Moons” by Sharon Creech. My favorite children’s book, probably? It’s been a while. About grief and love and blackberry kisses. 7) “Symphony for the City of the Dead: Dmitri Shostakovich and the Siege of Leningrad” by M.T. Anderson. Listen, I just really like Shosty. Nonfiction, the title explains it. 8) “Palmares” by Gail Jones. I’m not adding this because it’s a favorite, I’m not even sure if I like it. I didn’t get what I thought I’d get going into it and that’s ok, but I’m not sure what I did get either. The whole book makes you question who is lying, who is sane, what is truth. It’s not the main point of the book but what I want to know is “What is up with Almeyda and the orixas? Are they real or is she imagining their presence?”. I’m adding this to the list because the book is haunting me. Make it stop. 9) Borderlands La Frontera: The New Mestiza - Gloria Anzaldua. I must admit I have never read the whole book. US Latino scholars really love her, entrench her in the curriculum, and I aspire to finish it. Every time I sit to read her works I find it intimidating and a little, perhaps, painful. I am seen and I am scared to be seen. Or I am not seen and I crave to be seen. Now I’m just rambling, sorry. But I think about her multiple times a week. 10) “A Busy Day” - Cyndy Szekeres. This is a picture book I’d read it in my grandma’s back seat growing up. When I was really sick with covid my mom found me a copy and had it shipped to me. I’m adding it to this list because it brings me joy. I don’t care if I’m an adult, it’s a lovely little book and I cherish it. Ok friends, now it’s your turn. @onionjuggler, @stressfulsloth I admire your fics so I’m curious what you two like to read. Please don’t feel pressured though! Also @asinglesock, very interested in your studies, hope you don’t mind me tagging you. Anyone else, yeah, go ahead! Someone posted a Anzaldua post today and I really want their opinion on her works but I forgot who it was so if you are seeing this, yeah, thoughts please.

#I had to sort through so many books. I had been reading 100+ books a year since 2019 but I got a bit burnt out.#Ok. I'm petty but my former employer spread a rumor that I couldn't read so I SHOWED HER.#books #tag game

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emeritus-fuckers · 6 months

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Hello, congrats on 1000 followers, that is huge! This is my submission to the match-up event. I’ll number the answers to each question.

1. I’m transmasc (we could get into the weeds of it all, non-binary, genderfluid, yada yada but that’s the gist of it), use he/they pronouns and I’m bisexual.

2. I’d like to be matched up with a Papa preferably, although a Ghoul would also be cool if you decide it’s my best fit.

3. I’m 5’4, I’ve lost a bit of weight recently so I’m pretty slim but not skinny, my thighs and arms are pretty big still. I’ve also got a bit of muscle showing, but again, not a bunch (I am working on it though). Most of my life I’ve been the chubby one in the friend group so this is new to me. Besides that, I have an hourglass figure (that I hide under baggy clothes) and, unfortunately for me, a very large chest that a binder does little to conceal. I have brown hair that’s wavy (2C), short on the sides and back and longer on top (comes down to my top lip if I stretch it out in front of my face), parted on the side. I also have brown eyes, I’m white (fairly pale), have freckles on my cheeks, nose and arms and a decent amount of moles all over my body. I wear glasses, I have three earlobe piercings in one ear and one in the other that I’m stretching. I dress in a sort of skater-y style, big pants, vans, oversized band T-shirts, hoodies, jean jackets, funky button-ups if I’m being fancy.

4. I think I’m a friendly person but generally pretty shy and I don’t get out much. Right now I’m writing my BA thesis (studying English) after extending my studies which means I finished all of my classes already, so I really spend way too much time at home. I could probably use someone who would help me to go out more but also respect when I have to stay in and recharge since I lean towards introversion (but only slightly). I’m also kind of a perfectionist which causes me to either put way too much effort into something or, paradoxically, way too little because then I can detach myself from it, telling myself that I didn’t try at all so I don’t feel like it matters.

5. I am very on-again off-again with video games (I could spend a year not playing any but then the next few months playing for hours every day) and I prefer narrative-led games. I watch board game playthroughs a lot and over the last year I bought quite a few board games. I like to watch horror movies but I’ve only been to the movie theater a few times since COVID started. I mostly listen to metal lately but there’s very few genres of music that I wouldn’t listen to, only one coming to mind is EDM. I like to sing a lot. I work out almost every day (ideally 6 times a week but it sometimes ends up being 4 or 5), it’s calisthenics and flexibility because I can do it with only a few cheap pieces of equipment alone at home and the gym scares me + it’s expensive. I also write fanfiction which this fandom inspired me to do and I’m very new to it but enjoy it a lot.

6. I’m 23, I live alone, I have two cats that are brother and sister. I was an only child until my dad had another kid in his second marriage but that happened when I was 16 so I don’t really count it since I didn’t grow up with siblings (my brother feels more like a nephew to me). I don’t think I want to be monogamous, because I don’t think I belong to anyone or anyone belongs to me, it’s just too restrictive and boring to me (although if someone I really cared about wanted to be 100% monogamous, I would probably agree to it). My favorite season is spring. I love most animals, especially reptiles, I used to be scared of spiders (I think from the stigma against them) but now I love to see them in my home and let them stay. But I’m absolutely terrified of the ocean and the creatures that live in it.

I am so sorry that this is so long but I tend to ramble and overshare when talking about myself. If this is too long, feel free to ignore.

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is…Papa Emeritus III

He loves stealing… I mean borrowing your clothes . As much as he enjoys his fancy outfits he adores putting on one of your hoodies and curling up on the couch. Preferably with you in his arms. It helps him unwind after a hard day at work.

He will come and keep you comapny while you exercise, he wants to support you and he often joins in. There will also be quite a lot of flirtatious glances from him.

One time he says "I can think of a much better way for us to work out together caro. hmm? You would like that no?" you cannot miss the sultry tone of his voice and the look he gives you as he draws you to him.

He is really supportive/understanding of your perfectionsim. Despite his playful front he does understand a need to do things to a high standard. He gets like that over his music. So he tries to help you balance it out.

If you are working on your thesis, he sometimes needs telling to just let you work. He loves being there for moral support and he is surpirsingly helpful and knowledgeable. But he gets a little distracted sometimes and just kinda goes off on one. So when you do say that you just need some peace and quiet to think he just pouts at you. Then after a moment he'll nod in understanding, give you a kiss and leave you to it. He will also bring you plenty of your favourite drink to keep you going.

He will definitely encourage you to go out more. He loves going out with you and you both always have a lot of fun. He can also spot when you need to recharge and he plans a cozy night in with a film or something.

He is chill about not being monogamous. It works well for him too and he has similar views to you. He values very highly the emotional connection you two share and he only has that with you. It means the world to him.

Written by Nyx

#causticjuice #match up #match up event #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa ememritus iii #terzo #terzo x reader #terzo emeritus

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