#i pride myself in making a safe place for the people i care about

[thealphabard]

Man, I dunno. It's kind of bitter sweet bc I really burned myself out of final fantasy xiv at literally no fault to the game even a little bit. I ended up in the center of some drama that fucked up my relationship with one of my favorite people. This whole thing was built upon gaslighting and manipulation.

And none of it from my side lmfao it's wild what people will do to be the center of attention.

But I have also found a new love for a lot of other games too with some other fantastic friends

LIKE MH

#jace noises #i pride myself in making a safe place for the people i care about #but i also have hard boundaries for my own safety #this person not only fucked up those boundaries #but lied to many people about my character #tried to ruin many relationships with other friends #and really thought they could try and convince me two of my closest friends were bad people.

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #jaheira #minsc #minthara #funny stuff #bg3 datamine

[obae-me]

I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)

Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

--

MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!

Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.

They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.

They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.

They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.

Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.

Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.

What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.

How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.

All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.

Or what if:

Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.

MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.

Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.

MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...

*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*

Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.

MC: Louder? Really?

Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?

MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.

Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?

MC: B-Beel?!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

[telvess]

Record of Ragnarok Poseidon (relationship headcanons) 🔞

My first attempt in writing anything in… eternity. I’m not a native English speaker but trying to improve myself, sorry for all mistakes I've made. I didn’t write any major spoilers but used knowledge from manga. Also + still no clue how tumblr works.

Poseidon is such a adorable idiot.

SFW Not gonna lie, to catch his eye (not to mention eye-to-eye contact) there will be needed someone really specific. Someone similar to him in general, but unique in details. I think Poseidon is really good observant. Just because he’s indifferent to others, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t pay attention. He would notice nuances in behaviour, manners and gestures. His future s/o must be elegant, self-contained and pride. Maybe not in the haughty way but undoubtedly confident in her position as a goddess. Definitely not ‘damsel in distress’ type, she has to have guts to rule her sphere, protect her opinion and status. No other god or goddess shall stick their nose in her business. Unless they’re ready for harsh words or worse. In summary: a less extreme version of Poseidon. On the other hand, I don't think these qualities are enough to draw Poseidon's interest. It’s good base but potential s/o must get under his skin. Intentionally or no, she has to do or say something that would get his attention, and annoy him… He wasn't seeking her subtle chitchat, nor did he want to end up witnessing her fight! Congratulations, miss! You accidentally annoyed Tyrant of the Seas! Choose a burial place. Jokes aside, the best thing s/o can do here is ignore Poseidon. He thinks he wants that, but hey! Looks like he played himself. Now s/o annoys him even more and he cannot understand why. Such a useless bottom feeder and he can’t get over her?

She was like a sea: capricious and unpredictable in nature, always remained resistant to the expectations of others. But sea bend to his will like tamed puppy. He stamp his foot and it humbly part before him. That’s what he couldn’t stand - how little control he had over her, how unbearably free this woman was compared to other gods who ran away in terror as soon as he merely frowned.

Poseidon would catch himself thinking about her in the least expected moments. He used to almost never leave his realm, now suddenly is more present in social life. Still doesn’t care much, usually just staying in loneliness that nobody dare to disturb and observing from distant object of his contempt. As if nothing had changed, yet it did. Probably the only people that would notice he’s different will be Hermes and Hades. When first one won’t act on it nor share his observations, the eldest brother definitely won’t resist to make some ambiguous comments.

— Well that’s unusual of you, dear brother — said Hades. He toyed with his glass of wine, watching carefully Poseidon, who looked as unconcerned as ever. However he honoured him with one short glance. Hades couldn’t stop the corners of his lips to lift up. Did his little brother seem… disturbed? Or was that just his imagination? If Hades could pick one thing out of everything known in the universe that was unshakable and untouched by time or any other matter Poseidon would be his choice. Unaffected stability that did not leave any room for doubt and yet… something… someone push his stern brother out of his safe zone. Hades couldn’t wait to see what else the future may bring to them. He just hoped the intruder will be able to keep up with the challenge.

It will actually take a lot of time for Poseidon to realize that he isn’t annoyed with s/o but himself. Idea of being attached to another person is almost physically uncomfortable. It’s new and suspicious. The moment of understanding is the flash point of the relationship. At this point Poseidon would abandon distant admiration and start acting. He is still slightly annoyed but what’s more irritate him is the absent of that unbearable mouth of s/o. Poseidon would sit next to her or stand much closer at any events. At first she won't notice, but over time she'll start to connect the facts. She’s not dumb. Quiet neither. If she point it out, he may mock her.

— Why don't you just ask me to dance instead of deterring others? It would be a graceful way to start a relationship. Poseidon gave her almost cold look. — Such a audacity — his voice teetered on the verge of indifference - he thought so. She snorted. Her eyes weren’t darkened with anger, sparks of mirth still shone in them. Maybe even more after his refusal. Then she turned to face him and, with a subtle but promising smile, began to close the distance between them. Poseidon remained calm as she came within inches of him. He could feel the warm breath of hers, the smell of fresh air… — You know you want me — she whispered without hesitation. Something unbearably nagging was born in Poseidon’s belly. And that annoying heat under it… almost as someone wounded him. He frowned but didn’t move away. — How are you going to win me over if you can't stop fighting with yourself? — she asked innocently and didn't wait for an answer - just left him on the balcony.

Truth be told, Poseidon wasn’t made for small talks so s/o is doing most of the part and - to provoke a reaction - teasing him a bit. After a while, they both find the silence in their presence pleasant. Poseidon’s seduce tactic would mostly navigate around small gestures such as gifts. However he won’t send them like every normal suitor. If his s/o lives near the ocean or is often near it, she would probably find many beautiful pearls by chance. All of them in her favourites colours of course. Is she basking on the beach? The finest shells surround her. Is she admiring shoal of fish, coral reef or just the sound of the sea? There are no storms. And go on… It’s hard for Poseidon to overcome his pride and openly talk about his desire. When he finally bring himself to it, he’ll sound angry as if he’s doing something unworthy of him. Once s/o assures him that she wants to know more, Poseidon would relax.

— I want you to remind me every day how unbearable I am. How capricious… how impertinent… — she kissed his hand without taking her eyes off him and then put it to her cheek. Poseidon liked the cool touch of her skin — And still watch me with that quiet yet deep fascination.

Yeah, s/o has to make it official by saying out loud how she feels and Poseidon generously accept the offer…

NSFW For Poseidon to be in any relationship, especially romantic is almost impossible. He doesn’t get involved with others because, in his opinion, they’re not worth it. So nobody would force on him arranged marriage. He must be the one choosing that path. That’s why I don’t believe he would ever degenerating his s/o. The reason is simple - he would treat his wife with the same level of respect he treats Hades. Otherwise she wouldn’t be his wife; she cannot be someone less. I also don’t think he would praise her much, probably only when he’s in right mood she would hear complement here and there. His s/o must be good at reading his minimalistic facial expressions and body language. She may notice how his eyes widen in admiration, how he holds his breath for a moment or tightens the jaw muscles when feels really good. He’s not vocal; purrs or growls only on occasion. Poseidon has his moments where he shows desire for s/o. He won’t say it loud but won’t take his eyes off her as she undress in the evening. Yeah, she definitely gonna feel that burning look on her back. The only place where he become caring and warm is in bedroom, in private, far from servants’ eyes. These kind of moments are rare. Mostly because they both take their responsibilities seriously, which means they've been separated for a long time. Poseidon is calm, methodical lover. He’s detail-oriented - would leave no curve or plane untouched from his hands or tongue. He’ll enjoy every sound, shaking and blush s/o make, and act in accordance with the mentioned gestures. Poseidon prefers variants of missionary position to share eye contact though he wouldn’t say no to his s/o if she wants to ride him. In intimidating moment he enjoys challenging her to not close eyes when he thrusts deep into her. He starts with slow and almost annoyed pace that soon becomes raw and firm when they both chase their release. Afterward they usually lay in bed in silent, both satisfied and tired. Poseidon won’t say it loud but he really likes when his wife show him affections at that time. Slowly almost lazily massaging his chest, touching his neck and jaw, putting small kisses on his ear or cheek. Her tender words soft him. Poseidon doesn’t entirely return the favour but when she does all this to him, he caresses her back, pretending to be indifferent.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror poseidon #snv poseidon #snv poseidon x reader #ror poseidon x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader #udj

[naamahdarling]

So...this makes...maybe the third or fourth time in 30 years I have gotten an apology for garbage behavior from a clinic? I am shocked.

What happened yesterday at the doctor's office is this: I was very anxious and needed someone with me as backup for an exam. Because of a history of medical assault and neglect, I have a really hard time with that sort of thing. This clinic is the only place that I feel safe going to for this kind of care.

The facility told me I could not bring my boyfriend back with me, I told them I had a governmentally recognized disability, and that I needed someone with me because of anxiety and PTSD. They said that was fine and gave me a release sheet to fill out. That should have been the end of it.

Instead, I was told again when they called me back I could not bring him. They indicated at that time that they had a few private questions for me first. I knew this would be the "do you feel safe at home" screening questions (I support these), so I said "Okay, but he comes in for the exam."

They took me back, did not even ask those questions, and when the time came to bring him in, I was again told he could not come.

I am on the edge of a panic attack and now I am angry because this is both inhumane and a clear violation of the ADA. I am also barely able to speak articulately let alone advocate for myself because I am in a rough patch and totally alone in a scary environment that has now proved itself threatening.

The exam turned out to be unnecessary, thankfully, so I didn't push the issue and just got through the appointment and got out of there so I could have something to eat and stop shivering. But it made me sick inside, and I rapidly regretted not staying to speak to someone about it.

I used the portal and the phone to send a message asking the manager to call me about it, stating that I felt disrespected and unsafe, and that my right to reasonable accommodation for my disability had been seemingly ignored.

And to my utter SHOCK I got a call back from the manager who listened to me describe the incident, IMMEDIATELY apologized, and then told me that due to that incident and something else that happened this morning, they had a staff meeting to make sure it never happened again and it is now "set in stone" that patients may have someone they choose in the room with them. She was probably very aware that breaking the ADA in such a clear-cut way is really bad.

She also seemed personally sorry, and was very professional. Apparently the issue was that some staff were under the impression that the clinic was still using COVID protocols, which include not allowing anybody but the patient back. Which still would have been invalid in the face of "reasonable accommodations as outlined in the ADA", but it explains the confusion somewhat. They were just prioritizing rules over people, specifically disabled people, which is sadly typical.

The apology does not eliminate the last 24 hours of feeling like I'm doomed to be disrespected everyfuckingwhere I goddamned go, how scary it is to be devalued and dehumanized, and how helpless and hopeless it feels to be turned against by a clinic that prides itself on inclusivity. It doesn't take away feeling very depressed and being largely unable to sleep, or the fact that this has reinforced, again, the knowledge that I cannot let my guard down with medical professionals in the moment, even if changes are later made. Apologies don't fix everything. I came out of this another step behind, warier, less trusting. The only bright side is that MAYBE in the future this one clinic will fuck around with me less and with others less. I maybe helped fix a thing.

But I DO have the manager on a recording saying it won't happen again. So I can hold them to it. And I hope the people who were unclear on whether or not disabled people have the right to ask for what they need are very clear on the concept now.

#rambling again

[acetone4veins]

Mean Girls + Quotes Part 2

Find part 1 here

More quotes that remind me of mean girls characters and their various relationships :)

Regina

"i became bitter and untouchable. i craved affection but even the mere thought of someone caring made my stomach turn."

unknown

"i have survived everything but i fear that i cannot survive myself."

Cynthia Chapman

"was i raised without love? or was i born unlovable?"

unknown

"am i lonely because no one cares, or am i lonely because i'm not strong enough to let anyone get close enough to care?"

Rob Hill Sr.

"of course i look angry all the time. my entire life i've been fighting a war. i am soaked in pain and sadness. the irony however, is that i'm not actually angry, i'm trying to learn how to be happy. and that in itself is a war."

unknown

Cady

"i thought - i want to go home. i want to be in a place that feels like home. where that was, i did not know."

Katie Kitamura

"i understood myself only after i destroyed myself. and only in the process of fixing myself did i know who i really was."

Sade Andria Zabala

“do you ever wonder where you took a wrong turn? where your life became the exact opposite of what you wanted it to be?”

unknown

"i have always tried to make a home for myself, but i have not felt at home in myself."

Jeanette Winterson

Janis

"of course i'm angry. do you have any idea how many times someone should have helped me?"

unknown

"hurt an artist and you'll see masterpieces of what you've done."

unknown

"i don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though i may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful."

Susan Sontag

Gretchen

"what a sick little head, your love always turns into obsession."

unknown

"i don't think people love me. they love versions of me i have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. the easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love."

unknown

“i only know how to exist when i’m wanted.”

Mary Lambert

"i don't want to beg. i know you can feel it, my longing, the aching, my need for love. i don't want to beg. but oh god - oh god, please. please. love me. love me."

unknown

"for once i need to choose myself, or else i'm going to lose myself."

Veronika Jensen

Karen

“i believe in some blending of hope and sunshine sweetening the worst lots. i believe that this life is not all; neither the beginning nor the end. i believe while i tremble; i trust while i weep.”

Charlotte Brontë

Regina and Janis

"longing, how soft a word for such a ravenous feeling. how we hunger in silence."

Pavana

"dig your teeth into me. come on, i dare you. take a bite. open me up; raw and candy floss pink on the inside. make it hurt. i figure, you're going to hurt me one way or another. might as well be with your mouth."

Ashe Vernon

"i don't know what to do without you, i don't know where to put my hands."

unknown

"you are the knife i turn inside myself; that is love."

Franz Kafka

"i love you and i always will and i am sorry. what a useless word."

Ernest Hemingway

Regina and Cady

"i love you. i love you unconditionally. i loved you even in my ignorance. i loved you when i didn't even know. i just love you."

unknown

"and on some days, i wish our paths had never crossed because you don't know how heartbreaking it is to know that someone like you exists in this world and i cannot have you."

unknown

“i must have you exclusively, fiercely, possessively.”

Henry Miller

"i still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do."

William C. Hannan

“fuck my pride. fuck everything. i’m so desperately hungry for you.”

Henry Miller

Gretchen and Karen

"the way our fingers intertwine feels so natural and right; as if our hands hold memories of meeting in a thousand other lifetimes."

John Mark Green

"when i think of life, i think of you. when i think of love, i think of you. safe to say that i really like thinking about life with you."

unknown

"come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can't just stand on it."

Dino Ahmetovic

Regina and Gretchen

"i suffer in my loving, and you know it."

Willa Cather

"i loved you to the point of ruin. i loved you until my lungs were filled with ash."

Tina Tran

#managed to make this shorter than part 1 #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #regina george #cady heron #janis imi'ike #janis sarkisian #janis ian #regina x janis #renee rapp #cadina #rejanis #reneé rapp #fetchen #regina x cady #karen x gretchen #gretchen wieners #karen shetty #karen smith #regina x gretchen #andi speaks

[topguncortez]

Pain Makes You Stronger || Whumptober Day 22 - N. Trace

whumptober masterlist

synopsis: Natasha deals with the aftermath of the situation with Captain Underwood. She thought that the Navy would have her back, but she was met with a rude awakening.

word count: 600

@ailesswhumptober prompt: punishment

warnings: sexual assault, sexual harassment, victim blaming, retaliation, the military failing to protects its own people

“If you stay still, it’ll hurt less.” 

Those words had bounced around in Natasha’s head since they slipped from Grim’s mouth. The look on her face was one of utter fear and shock. Natasha felt sick to her stomach, as she watched the tears fall from Grim’s eyes and the sickening understanding that they had were victims in a sick situation. 

Natasha’s brain was running a mile a minute as she sat in the victim advocate’s office. As soon as she had said something about Captain Underwood, Jake had marched her down to the VA’s office to file a report. She waited to tell him to take Grim instead, having a feeling that whatever was going on with Grim was worse than what she went through. But instead, Natasha sat in the uncomfortable chairs, waiting for the VA, Captain Sanders, to come in. 

“Have you talked to Grim?” Natasha asked Jake quietly. Maverick had her placed on mental health leave, it was one of the only things he could do to keep her safe from Captain Underwood. 

“No,” He shook his head and shifted in his seat. 

Jake had been beating himself up ever since he blew up on her. He wanted to reach out and apologize but he didn’t know how. He was so angry that something like this was going on right under his nose. He prided himself on being able to take care of his team, taking care of his wingmen. He knew something was going on with Grim, but he never knew that it was something so vile and awful. Jake had little sisters and it made his blood boil thinking of someone hurting them. 

“Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Jake shrugged, “I don’t know. . . guess we’ll find out.” He sat up a bit straighter as the door opened and Captain Sanders walked in. 

“Lieutenant Commanders,” She nodded towards them before sitting down in her chair, “The investigation into your report has been completed. . . . and the board has found Captain Underwood not guilty of the accusations against him.” 

Natasha felt like her heart had stopped in her chest. The words the Captain Sanders continued to speak went in one ear and out the other. The only thing Natasha could hear was the disgusting voice of Captain Underwood and the feel of his lips on hers. A burning sensation crawled up her throat as tears prickled her eyes. 

“So he just gets away with it,” Jake scoffs, “He gets away with abusing and assaulting-” 

“We have no actual proof that he assaulted anyone,” Captain Sanders shrugged. 

Jake clenched his jaw and looked away from the woman across from him. He had no words to say. He didn’t even know how to fight this. How could he? Natasha hadn’t said anything about Grim, deciding it wasn’t her story to tell, and Jake agreed. It was Grim’s story to tell, and she decided not to for a reason. Natasha was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, she should’ve kept quiet as well. 

“So what do I do?” Natasha asks, “Go back to work and have to look at him every single day?” 

Captain Sanders sighed sadly, “He’s been given strict instruction not to speak to you or be near you. That’s the best we could do.” 

“The best you could do is get rid of an abuse-” 

“Jake,” Natasha said, shaking her head. The fight was useless. There was nothing that neither one of them could do. Natasha swallowed and looked down at her hands, “So this is my punishment? This is what I get for wanting to protect not only myself but any other woman who walks through those doors. I get it, we are supposed to protect the country. . . but who protects us?”

Captain Sanders gave her a sad smile, “Sometimes. . . it’s better to just let these things go.”

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17

note: I'm sorry that this is so short. I promise the next one will be better

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #phoenix trace #natasha trace #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix #natasha trace fan fic #natasha trace fan fiction #natasha trace imagine #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x you #natasha trace x y/n #phoenix imagine #phoenix fan fic #phoenix fan fiction #phoenix x reader #phoenix x you #phoenix x y/n #ailesswhumptober #g's whumptober

[zayne-snowman]

Dear Dr. Zayne,

It has taken me some time to deliberate on this decision, as I had to table my own pride in order to and it. I’m sure you’re aware of how difficult that can be for me… But my physical condition is something I no longer can ignore without the risk of future stressors, so I finally opted to take your advice.

I sent Captain Jenna my request to transfer to a non-active Hunter unit this morning.

As much as I would like to continue on the front lines and prove my usefulness in killing Wanderers directly, I can’t shake the annoyance that comes with constant hospitalizations in the days following. I feel perfectly capable and yet… This dying thing in my chest insists otherwise. I’m tired of feeling absolutely fine in every other area apart from the stubborn pain in my chest. I’m tired of fighting against my condition only for it to wallop me back harder.

And most of all… I’m tired of making you worry. I want to kick myself every time I see your brows knit together in concern. That goes double every time your voice goes tight when you tell me, probably for the millionth time, to be careful c to not be reckless. And yet I continue anyway. I have for months, and… I care about you too much to continually put you through that.

I want to stay healthy. I want to be around long enough to see you at ease. I want to be well enough that you and I could… Well, I suppose you never minded me being bold, so I’ll just say it: I want to be with you, as more than a close friend, and as more than a patient. I guess we sort of already are…

I still remember that kiss in the car…

But I want it to be official, if you’ll allow me. I’ll be working within Hunter HQ from now on, helping those in the field track Wanderer patterns (so still hunting, in a way!), but I’ll be in one place. Safe. So I guess I can come visit you more often, be it for check-ups or just … to see you. To be there for you as you have been for me.

I know this is a lot to read, but you’ve always struck me as the type to like letters anyway. I’ll talk to you soon.

All My Love,

🩵

My dearest,

Since you wrote me such a beautiful hand-written letter, I found it fitting for me to do the same. I’m better at the written word anyways.

The news of your transfer brought me relief beyond words, and I will be eternally grateful that you decided to follow through with my advice, but I must confess, I feel the need to let you reconsider.

You shouldn’t leave your position just for me, or your illness. I truly hope you have thought this through and it wasn’t a decision based on me scaring you into it. You should be free to choose what you want to do, and I know your job made you happy.

Of course I worry about you, it’s a dangerous career. If the decision is set and your condition really has wore you down in such a way, I’ll welcome this change with open arms.

Nothing would make me happier than spending more time with you. Being close to you. Be there for you. If happiness could be measured in heartbeats, your words have made me immortal. I want nothing but to kiss you right now as well, but for now I hope this letter expresses enough affection until we see each other again.

I look forward to us seeing each other more often. The work you’ll be doing is still wonderful, your eagerness to help people even in your condition is admirable.

I might keep this letter in my office. And any and all you send.

Yours,

Zayne

#dr zayne #asks #🩵 anon #l&ds #lnds #lads #love & deepspace #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne

[lupi-usque-ad-finem]

@wolfislost here!

I see you mention your handlers relatively often. It's a concept i've been thinking about for a little over a year now. It would be super helpful if you could share what a handler is to you, what that relationship looks like, how it makes you feel, etc.

No pressure of course! And if you've already explained this somewhere, it would be really helpful if you could link me to that post

Thank you!!

Hiya!! Of course, I’d love to talk about it!!

So my handlers are my two human friends in my pack and this dynamic has been so for a good while. For me, having a handler(s) is having a safe space to explore and experience my therianthropy without judgement, having someone who knows they can rely on me as I rely on them, where i’m addressed correctly according to my theriotypes, and a place to express myself as I desire (i.e. wearing my gear, communicating how I want, being in a canine headspace/going full wolf brain mode, etc). I would say my handlers are called so specifically because they aren’t otherkin or alterhuman, but I’m sure there are otherkin handlers!

With wolves and dogs who have/need human handlers, it’s much like our dynamic. Some of those dogs were abused, too aggressive, too shy, left out, and/or have a difficult time trusting others. Their handler is the person(s) they trust, and this dynamic allows me to trust. Our relationship is built on mutual respect, love, and understanding. When I explained therianthropy to them neither of them bat an eye, just said “well obviously, you’ve always been our dog.” It was such a relief to have that, and the rest has just kinda fallen into place!

This dynamic also brings me a sense of responsibility that I really enjoy. I’ve always felt pride in protecting others, and they trust I will do so for them. They know I will be there to defend them, watch for danger, protect them, and they in turn give me the opportunity to exist how I feel most comfortable and accept me. They even address themselves as my handlers to people! It’s mostly as a funny ice breaker, but a few times it’s had to be used as a warning. Obviously I love the whole “you need to muzzle your dog” trope but I get to be THE DOG !!!!!!

If you feel comfortable enough with someone to take part in this dynamic, then do so! Talk it all out and find what you both want from the relationship. I had never had a handler before I met them, but having handlers has honestly helped me a ton with therianthropy and what it means to me. It’s an honour to know I have people who care for me and love me and it prides me to be their guard dog!

I’ve learned that even if it takes a while and no matter how sappy it sounds, that there are people out there who will accept you, and you in fact can exist in the way you feel most comfortable :)

#thank you for asking!!!! #I love talking about them :3 #ruff ruff #therian #therianthropy #wolfkin #werewolfkin #caninekin #dogkin #wulverkin #otherkin #theriankin #howling q’s #handler posting

[iwanthermidnightz]

As usual, I’m gonna share the parts of this article that resonate with me (pretty much all of it). Several points were made. And the unapologetic queer visibility makes me so proud. Please give it a read 🥲

LD: I also do want to say, even though there is a bunch of awesome overlap with the trans community and the drag community, transness and drag are separate things — but that's the reason why we did it [in Tennessee], is because those things are being conflated here.

It's crazy that we were on tour for all of Pride Month and being pretty f*cking gay, and talking about gay rights on stage. You’d think that the circles that we run in would be like, yeah, cool, but I feel like there is still… Prejudice towards gay people comes from all sides, including gay people.

I have, you know, rolled my eyes at certain aspects of Pride, just the corporate aspect of things. We were hanging out with a friend who was like, yeah, the gas station has a pride flag, but I'm still getting looked at funny in the streets; what is Pride actually doing?

JB: Shell Oil Company is like, happy pride! Like, okay.

LD: It's weird, the more comfortable I am, the more opposition I feel from other people who are discontent with how I qualify as a gay person. I'm like, Do you need a sex tape?

PB: As someone who doesn't qualify as gay, I can't participate in this conversation. I haven't sent in enough chips to corporate. [laughs]

I speak for all of us [when I say] I feel like our communities are so supportive, like f*cking rainbows and buttercups all the time. We're really good at making friends and we have so much support around each of us, and so much privilege, and each live in an accepting place and choose accepting people to be around. But when I or Lucy get hate for not turning in our like, gay paperwork, all I'm thinking is about the way that I would have felt at f*cking age 11 being like, Oh, I'm not allowed to do that. This famous person is being humiliated for expressing themselves, and so I should not, I especially should not express myself.

JB: I don't get as much hate because people are like, there goes a lesbian. You know what I mean? [All laugh.]

LD: It’s really binary.

JB: I've spent a lot of my life being a masc dressing queer person, or just not engaging with gender play at all. It’s like, queer people saying that you have to acquiesce to one of three queer archetypes, or one of a handful of queer archetypes in order to be represented.

LD: That's why our shows are so special to me is that they are very gay. People are throwing flags at us, young people are making out in front of us, it is a space that is precious to me and would have changed my life if I could have been a part of it when I was younger. I'm extremely proud, and I just implicitly love everybody at our shows at a base level. I think we all do. The reason we're doing it is because we care abstractly about all these strangers and want for them what we could have had. Also we're coming from a position where we're talking to a bunch of young people, we do get to put messages worth hearing out there, I think that's not lost on us.

PB: I am mostly proud of the way that I watch the discourse [play out], and I'm proud of the conclusions that these children are coming to. Everybody is sticking up for us and each other and there's just a couple weirdos that are very loud. I think our community is being protected by the people in it. And it is such a safe space show, and I'm so fucking proud. Even the amount of femme people in the audience, screaming at the top of their lungs and having to take up a high octave... It’s a different rock show than I've ever experienced. It’s amazing to me.

JB: The microphone I have with y'all, the reach is wider, it just factually is, and I think a lot about responsibility to hear [others’ opinions…] To be the subject of discourse at all is to live a question into the world, so I will allow myself to do that. I will allow a little bit of my identity — which as a queer person, I've been at once defensive of and fiercely protective of and encouraged to erase completely — I'm like, okay, so I have to exist with this identity subsumed into the culture, into the topic of someone's conjecture. Because it's going to be one case study. That's the whole idea of visibility, visibility doesn't have to be perfect representation.

I was thinking about this too, something that bugged me was that meme that was the talent and popularity graph and it was popularity way above talent, and they were like, “This is boygenius.” You're missing the damn point. [If only the most talented people got to speak,] Steve Vai would be speaking for all f*cking musicians because he's best at guitar. That's not what I want.

PB: But again, that is just Twitter. I think we are as beloved as is possible for any public, femme presenting, or queer, in public. I think we just get an amount of hate because we're stepping on guitar guys. It is fucking dumb, and it is just what is happening. Every time I look at a Pitchfork post of us, it's the most incel f*cking shit ever in the comments section.

JB: I was telling Lucy, I feel like if someone made that meme about me, Julien Baker, on a solo headlining tour, I would be up at four in the morning in the back lounge of the bus running scales. With y'all, I'm like, You're missing the point you dumbass. It's like Kathleen Hanna being like, the Sex Pistols are bad at their instruments. Why can I not just have a band that's fun and cool and angry?

LD: I wanna say, we're a little fed up, obviously, with some things, but I agree with you, Phoebe, the biggest sentence I have to say is we're having so much fun. That is the message that I think people are mostly getting, and the one that I want them to get, is that we are happy and having fun, and that is not frivolous at all. Fun is essential.

PB: Everybody knows every word to the entire set. We sell thousands of tickets. It is going as good as humanly possible. It is insane.

LD: And it's because we feel safe and supportive that we can mostly safely and supportively do drag in Tennessee. It's because we have such a solid foundation of joy we can be in defense of other people's joy, in ways that feel really valuable to me personally, and I hope valuable to other people.

JB: The whole reason why I feel comfortable engaging with this at all and it's not an existential crisis for me is because, what you're saying, Lucy: I have a foundation of joy that makes me convicted that this is important, not frivolous, highly worthy, highly valuable. So when I see us as the subject of discourse I'm interacting with it in a different way that I don't think I'd be able to [alone]. I wonder if kids watching that in third person happen will also be resilient to the same kind of things.

PB: You’re allowed to be bad at guitar, anybody reading this.

LD: I’m bad at guitar.

PB: Other shit, you do have to work so hard. And you have to love it. If you love playing guitar and you're bad at guitar, that rocks.

TV: What other moments would you highlight? I feel like there’s been a lot of good ones, like the t-shirt selling out.

PB: Love, love to just have the power to snap my fingers and mobilize people to give their money away to a cause. That is the best part of my job.

JB: It’s participation. It’s visibility. It's you, outward signaling something you believe in as a principle. It's also literally redistributing funds to us to organizers, nonprofits and legislators that are trying to make the world a better place. And we get to be in charge of that, and also give somebody a gift that's like, you're a country queer! We see you.

TV: Did you expect the fans to be so young this tour? I’ve been really impressed!

LD: It's interesting, I think Julien was saying this, being something through which some kids are learning some stuff. I usually am really upset when I'm misunderstood, but I think that part of that happening now is people on their way to understanding something that I think is important and outside of me, that we are just a case study for, and that is just a really sweet and special position to be in.

JB: This really gets to me, I'll see a group of friends all hugging during our set, a collection of songs about grieving and leaning on your friends. I'll be like, What did y'all go through? Something f*cking horrible.

I think about this with the credibility or the legitimacy of music, like with the whole Pitchfork incel guy, it goes back to that. I'm like, dude, I love that a bunch of kids are at our show. I've said it once, I'll say it again: I took a class in young adult literature. And I was like, wow, this is maybe the most important kind of literature. Paradise Lost is for people who think that their brain is big, young adult literature is for f*cking people who don't know what literature is yet — they need a window, they need a door. They need a pass. Phoebe you were saying, like, music that not-adult cis white guys like.

LD: Those guys are showing up too, and good for them. And if they're the ones that are mad about this, maybe they're on their path of understanding something better, too.

JB: I cry at all the kids, man.

PB: Me too.

JB: My mom texted me and was like, I would have died if there was something like y'all when I was a kid — and I don't even think she gets some stuff we're saying.

PB: It's funny to [realize] I would have bleached my hair and wanted to be me.

JB: Dude, it's so f*cking sick. I think about me at 16 — I was trying to be a hardcore guy, I wanted to get tattoos, I wanted to play guitar in a band. And then I just turned out… me. I used to try to make my hair look like k.d. Lang; I wonder if we're a thing people realize they can look like.

LD: Also, I think being affectionate on stage has been really fun and sweet, and it exhibits behavior that I think is healthy and good. That's another element of it that I think is good to show kids, the way that I think drag is actively good for kids to interact with, because it's this fun way to interact with gender and to explain things like that early to children is really awesome. Just being able to gaily and affectionately kiss your bros, that's a principle that I value, that I wish was more valued for kids. Not saying like, kids gotta go all make out!

I'm proud of the space we're taking up. I think we're using it in ways I'll be able to stand behind when I get older.

PB: There's also such a deep, both fetishizing and desexualizing of lesbians, in a way that I think is ridiculous. Obviously MUNA is standing staunchly against that as well, by being a f*cking boyband. It's just fun to be like, it's not that serious — and it also is deeply meaningful.

#boygenius #why pride and queer visibility is important

[flowerflamestars]

I don't know if my continued Rhys Efflorese babble gotten eaten so here it is again. (if I'm repeating myself I'm very very sorry)

Rhysand being so certain that Cassian and Azriel's Illyrian honor and loyalty will keep them on his side without having even a shred of awareness about what Illyrian honor even MEANS much less what it might mean if they feel that HE'S the one who betrayed them first. I'm not sure that Rhysand even has any concept of Illyrians beyond the asshole camp lords that Night put in charge. (Why were they freezing in the mud, huh, Rhys?! WHO PUT THEM THERE?! Why might they not be will to share their whole selves with the Prince of Night, huh Rhys?)

It says a lot about how much faith and respect they had for Shahar (I can't remember how to spell her name right now) that even though she didn't live among them as one of them, they still very much considered her theirs and believed she could (and would) make the future better for them. (This is a thought I had while reading Starlight: the House of the Wind is possessed by the ghost of Rhysand's sister and she's fucking Pissed at him)

Rhysand is very bad a cost-benefit analysis. Particularly because he doesn't seem to have any concept of what a 'cost' actually is, especially when it's someone else who'll be paying it. Or even what a benefit is really. (Dude, you have two business savvy, policially knowledgeable, intelligent humans who are personally invested in keeping Feyre safe. This would be a FANTASTIC opportunity to learn about the state of the human lands and kingdoms and formulate plans based on new information instead of, you know, deciding you already had a perfect plan despite the fact that you haven't talked to a single (not Feyre) human in at least 500 years.(*insert the "no it's the children who are wrong" Simpsons guy meme here*) Or that maybe there's this guy right here with friendly acquaintances all over the place that could be very useful if you weren't, you know, a shithead. But nope, slightly bruised pride too much cost)

Rhysand's desperation for Feyre to only see him in a very specific light is greatly aided by Feyre's equal determination to only see him in that exact light.

Rhysand thinking that, even after learning he fucked off to the continent and got arrested for gambling debts, bringing shit-head papa Archeron into the situation will keep ANYONE in line (kinda love that even though we're all, like, Everyone Gets a Name but then none of us will can shithead papa Archeron anything but shithead papa Archeron)

Rhysand hoping this situation that he doesn't want to deal with implodes while not comprehending that it will implode into A WHOLE NOTHER SITUATION

Do you think he's a bit baffled when Feyre comes to the conclusion that her sisters hate faeries? Like he's perfectly pleased with the situation and happy to roll with it because it'll drive a further wedge between her and her sisters do you think he looks at the perfectly polite chats with Cass and Az despite the glowing siphons and giant bat wings (plus the Shadows in Az's case) and the House Full of Blood Magic/ Lucien FUCKING Venserra situation and think "Whelp, I guess you've got an immortal lifetime to learn some observation skills" (not that she'll learn good observations skills from HIM anytime soon)

Rhysand thinking that Feyre loves and cares about these people and that therefore they are a THREAT to HIM instead of that meaning that he should maybe he should care about, or, a least, try to get along with them.

Elain just keeps smiling a playing the perfect hostess is nearly as infuriating as Nesta snarling in his face. Then she puts Cassian's knife to his throat. That's probably one of them most WTF moments of his life. (someone please tell the Illyrians that Elain held a knife to Rhysand's throat. They deserve knowledge that this tiny human girl was willing to pull a knife on a High Lord for her people (a people they are now part of))

Did he notice that Elain served him some funny tasting tea and just think nothing of it because human food is all shit to him? (Also Cassian had almost zero reaction to Nesta saying that Elain had tried to poison Rhysand, his High Lord/'brother')

(in your Nesta/Eris story, the Valkyrie priestess says something along the lines of "Rhian's sniveling brat son may think the world revolves around him but it doesn't" and "Shahar would be disappointed in him." These statements feel applicable this Rhysand (or all Rhysands really))

Rhysand is about to get a crash course in how loyalty is a two-way street. The Archerons' people (now including a bunch of awestruck Illyrians) are so ride-or-die for them because the Archerons are just as ride-or-die back.

All three of the Bat Boys are in the process of completely loosing their shit in different directions.

Side-note: When Elain offers Cassian tea and calls him sir and Cassian's like "WTF I'm not a sir" and Elain's like "It's a courtesy given to any man with a title" and Cassian's just "naw I don't have a title" and then in her head Elain's like "WTF in what world is General not a title?" It just makes me wonder about Cassian's (and by extension, Azriel's) actual place in the Night Court's (barely existent) court hierarchy.

Side-note the second: While mentioning the Night Court's barely existent government system the thought of Amren having secret peons in place helping keep the court running. It might have started as a bit of a game 'How much functioning government can I make before Rhysand actually notices" however I think it got boring pretty quick through a combination of, 'he barely ever notices anything not shoved directly under his nose' and mild concern that Rhysand might actually notice and stop her and the court will implode even faster than it already is (and she's gotten stupidly attached to some of these colorful insects and would like to keep them around a bit longer) (Side-side note: I'm SO hyped for Amren to meet the rest of the Archerons)

Side-note the third: if there's Archeron ships in Night then there's probably Archeron ships in Summer too right? That could spin the whole Summer-book theft debacle in... interesting ways. (I'm imagining Tarquin talking to Feyre about Archeron ships bringing in supplies to rebuild the city at greatly reduced transpiration fees or something and Feyre's just mentally like "wtf my sisters hate faeries why would they do that" (because she's still operating under that particular delusion) but (because Rhys thinks it's a good idea) she plays along like she knows about it or something and uses it to gain more of Tarquin's trust before, you know, Rhys's whole *brilliant* plan takes place. Imagine how abso-fucking-lutly pissed OFF, Nesta, Elain and Lucien would be. Like, the whole situation would already piss them all off but add in deliberately taking advantage their family's reputation and kindness to do it? Rhysand had better stay well out of stabbing distance. (Side-side-note: Tarquin's, like, less than one hundred right? The dude spent more than HALF is fucking life Under the Mountain. Give him a fucking BREAK.) (Side-side-side-note: Just popped into my head. What if there were babies BORN down there. Like, that's their whole life down there. I just realized that this isn't actually much of a what-if scenario because really we just have to look under Rhysand's OWN fucking mountain to see how that goes.)

I think that's all of the babble for the moment. <3

Oooo so much good stuff here! I'll try to go in order 💜

Rhys is canonically shitty about Illyria and the Illyrians! I almost feel like I'm hitting the bottom of the barrel to give it emotional nuance- Effloresce Rhys has wrapped together all his grief and ego into just. Complete bullshit. Nesta sees this immediately! ( Cassian and Az have. Had to live within this, which I'll get to)

But yeah, that's the center for him in so many ways: he has to The Most Right, Fully in Control, Always in Charge and also does not take responsibility for shit. Ever.

So he belittles it. A warrior culture? Savages. Mor blatantly using Cassian when they were young? Oh that drives Cassian crazy. Azriel is wildly fucked up? No, it's the fault of his childhood not his continued life! Cassian gets close to his literal soulmate? Are you fucking around with Feyre's sister, Cas?

One of my character things for Rhys is that he wants Everything just barely more than he wants nothing. He is SO voraciously is the center of his own world while being so utterly careless with that world. So there is no balance. There's just what Rhys wants.

And he wants Feyre so Feyre is also always right. And just. Canonically does not seem to value her sisters as people so much as auxiliary manifestations of her own self.

They're like her irksome pets Rhys has to deal with.

Cassian's actual rank is going to come back, but I would say that you could easily call Rhysands perspective on the Archeron alliance making 'huh, the dogs AREN'T smart enough to be afraid of bears, and I, a person, find this quaint'

(Elain is going to kill the fuck out of someone over this.)

Poison doesn't matter because Cassian chose a side basically the second he crossed the wall. Even without Nesta. (You could possibly say he has always had a side, and it has always been Nesta.) Further, Lucien absolutely clocked that blood! All these things add together, really.

As for Amren, she's less focused on a functioning government as she is invested in a broad outcome. She keeps her vows. She is, perhaps, playing an elaborate game of wondering what Rhys does and does not know.

Oooo Summer is a stop on the Elucien honeymoon diplomatic carpet bomb, actually. They're not actively trading there, but they're not unknown. Rhys is definitely still hunting the book to use Feyre's Super Specialness.

Tarquin is young and progressive! I know the books utilize this to be like 'oh, he'll give Rhys a chance', without ever clarifying if Tarquin or anyone knows the actual degree of Rhysands willing or unwilling cooperation with Amarantha. It doesn't make a ton of sense. I like to take it in another direction.

#an excellent ramble! #we're clarifying on the Illyrians points in the worst ways soon #kind of funny when I think about it that the books act like Rhys is ever good at strategies #commiting atrocities to spare yourself personal pain is. not that #And! he believes his own hype! all the time! #the crux of Feyre is the more things go wrong #the more she listens to Rhys #(or herself) #stress just heightens the hero complex bullshit #meanwhile Nesta: worked so hard to stay safe in a place that is no longer safe. no reason not to full throttle #not to mention Elain #or Lucien with Ya Know all those friends and allies and POWER waiting to be unleashed #human rules all out

[dinogoofymutated]

I've seem nothing on Gladiator and I NEED CONTENT PLZ!! I'd love seeing him go to Earth with his preaching "humans are crazy, useless, etc" and then just falls head over heels for a Mutant. Like he acts stoic and all but he's just smitten and what that would look like

SFW! Gladiator/Fem! reader! I want you to know that this ask has had me in a CHOKEHOLD!!! Parings where couples are opposites like this have my heart. I know I usually try to make my fics and headcannons Gender neutral, But i was listening to the waitress soundtrack when an idea for this hit me and I couldn't help myself. This might actually be a contender for my Favorite fic of the week! -Ps- for anyone wondering about my finals, I've done good so far? I don't wanna jinx it tho. eesh. TWS: Kallark be kinda judgy at first. Mutant discrimination, Building fire. Violence, head injury.

Kallark does not like earth. He can't say that he had ever enjoyed his brief visits there, but if the empress commanded his presence on the planet, who was he to refuse?

He respects Professor Xavier, although he doesn't necessarily agree with him. The X-men, although his allies, he does not care for very much. He thought them a little foolish, and was not interested in many of the things they invited him to experience.

As fate would have it, the one thing he had eventually agreed on was going to a Terran diner. He thought it was a little greasy in some spots, and didn't understand why anyone would want to be able to order breakfast food 24/7, but he assumed that there had to be a reason the team enjoyed going here so much.

Turns out, it wasn't just any Diner. This was one of the very few places that catered to mutants, although it wasn't advertised as such. Rouge had excitedly told him that he would "Just love" the waitress that would be serving them, a mutant in her own right.

He obviously hadn't believed forming deep emotions as such was possible in a short time span, but then again, he hadn't met you yet, had he?

Kallark was absolutely taken by you the moment you met. It didn't make any sense to him. How was he so infuriatingly, naively taken by simple Terran? A mutant nonetheless? He had met a handful of Terrans, all of which had been either crazy and idealistic, or scumbags and bastards. But you? He just didn't understand it. He thought for sure that you had to have some sort of power over him. Some bewitchment or spell that certainly had to be related to your genuine smile, or lighthearted laugh.

He was in trouble, and he had to find out why.

"Back again I see!" You chirp, smiling brightly at Kallark as you lead him to a booth, the only seat where he really fit due to his stature and build. He nods in a greeting, following you to his seat quietly. He visited the diner often after that initial time here with the X-men, always seeming like he had a lot on his mind every time.

To be honest, you enjoyed seeing him. He had become a regular of yours, and commonly came into the diner during the graveyard shift. He always sat in your section, being polite and patient with every order. You were sure he'd be tired of the greasy food by now, having tried just about every item on the menu, but here he was. Part of you wants to believe he comes in to see you specifically, blushing at the thought. Of course, you were just about always here, preferring to take late-night shifts as that was usually the time Mutants would come and visit. You made the diner a safe space for a lot of people, and that was a fact you took pride in.

Kallark is quiet every time he comes in, simply telling you what he would like to eat, and thanking you when prompted to do so. Sometimes he would speak more, asking questions here and there, but conversation was usually barren, consisting mostly of a comfortable silence between the two of you. Today was similar. It wasn't until you gave him the check that he asked you a question you didn't quite expect.

"What do your mutant powers consist of, exactly?" He asks. It's a simple question, but you cant help but blush at the sound of his voice- finding it unfortunately attractive. You try to shake it off, smiling at him politely.

"What, is this an interrogation? Hope you're not here to arrest me, Officer." You joke. He doesn't laugh, and you cringe at yourself a little bit. "...Maybe it's best if I show you." You settle on instead, walking over to the glass desert cabinets. Kallark watches you closely as you carefully cut out a slice of a creamy lemon pie, and plate it. He cocks an eyebrow at you as you bring it to the table, and hand him a fork. He does not understand where you are going with this exactly, but he takes a bite anyway.

A feeling of elation takes hold of him, happiness to an extent he's not sure he's ever felt before. You watch as his face shifts, giggling at his pure confusion.

"It's not drugged, I promise. My powers aren't exactly the most useful in a fight, but I can say that they pack a tasty punch." You wink. "It's all about the energy I put into something while I bake. If I want breakfast muffins to make people more energetic, it does. If I want a slice of lemon pie to make people happy, well," You motion at the pie, smiling brightly.

"So you do this with the other food as well?" Kallark asks. You shake your head.

"Ha! No. I'm not very good at cooking. everything else on the menu is made by Terry, our nightshift cook." You nod towards the kitchen, where Kallark can see a green-skinned mutant mutant pass by the open door briefly. He furrows his brow. He really though he had it for a minute, thinking that he had fully figured out where these emotions for you had come from, and yet he had still fallen short.

"You know, you've never had one of my deserts before, have you?" You think out loud, humming. Kallark has the same conclusion. He did agree that the pie was certainly very good, but it did little to explain the fast-paced beating of his heart. He finishes the pie before he leaves for the night, and to your surprise, he waves you goodbye when he does so. He's never done that before, and you find yourself blushing again.

"Are you blind?" You startle at the voice, turning around to see Terry leaning against the serving window. You put your hands on your hips, shaking off the surprise.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You scoff. He lets out a laugh, and walks back into the kitchen. You lean after him. "Seriously Terry, what do you mean by that?!"

The longer Kallark stayed on this planet, the more he started to feel like a lovestruck fool.

He was coming to see you just about every night at the diner, picking up conversation with you more often than naught. He wasn't used to Terran courting customs, and he certainly wasn't used to the way you captivated his mind so often. That wasn't to say he wasn't trying, he just didn't really know how to show you this strange affection of his.

That was until he returned to the diner one day to find it trashed, glass windows shattered, kitchen actively burning. And worst of all, you, injured and in need for a rescue.

The night had started off so well that you feel like a fool for not knowing the other shoe was going to drop.

The diner had been a safe zone for so many for so long, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on to the many mutants who called it haven. A group of rather conservative folks had come in around midnight, Not giving anyone a minute of warning as they shattered the windows and stormed into the back to find Terry, presumably. You had dove for the emergency button, but was tackled and forced to the ground before you could. The few mutants that had been eating had scrambled, fighting tooth and nail to escape. You hoped that a few did, but your head had been slammed into the ground so hard you couldn't see straight. You're having a hard time thinking over the pain you are in, the screams from the customers, the smell of smoke that had started to travel through the air. You feel a few tears slip down your cheeks as the diner lay in ruins.

The weight on top of you lifts abruptly as a great gust of wind sends the man above you flying into the counter violently. You feel like you can't lift your head to see what's going on, but there's a commotion of yelling and the sounds of bodies being slammed and incapacitated. When you manage to open your eyes, you flinch as another one of the men goes flying past you, smacking sqaurely into the wall and falling limp to the ground.

A pair of familiar boots step into your view, and you find yourself being helped up by Kallark. You have to hold onto him to steady yourself, head aching with every movement as he helps you stand. It only takes a glance around you to see that he had rescued you right on time- the diner, not so much. You sway a little, and Kallark is quick to catch you.

"You're certainly the gentleman, aren't you?" You laugh. Kallark furrows his eyebrows as one of his hands gently probes the back of your neck and skull. You wince at the feeling, and he draws his hand away.

"You have a concussion. We should get you some medical assistance." Kallark says. If you weren't mistaken, You'd say that he almost looks concerned. You shake your head at him regardless.

"Hospitals don't take care of mutants around here." You say, frowning. "Most of the time I just suck it up- but I don't think that that's the best idea right now."

"You'd be correct." Kallark hums. "I'll get you to Xaiver, but it would be wise for you to try and stay awake in the meantime." You smile at him, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he picks you up into a bridal hold. He looks at you, wide-eyed for a moment, before he's off. He sincerely hopes that it's not possible for your kind to hear just how fast his heart is beating inside his chest.

"Thanks, Handsome. I owe you one."

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #gladiator x reader #x men gladiator #gladiator #x men kallark #kallark #kallark x reader

[realworldsucksendhelp]

Il y a quelqu'un pour tout le monde

[There's someone for everyone]

Fem!Y/N x Oscar Issac!Young! Modern!Gomez Addams

Summary:

              Y/Ns always been different, making dating life almost impossible, but she's happy like this, that is until a certain family come to visit her house, and a certain brother seemed to catch her attention

Y/N is a bit more like Wednesday in this than mortician but if this becomes a series you may or may not see some character development.

Translations are in Bold and Red

Y/n I want you in your room and don't come out unless I say so"

"Bu-"

"No buts OK? These people want to look at our house to buy it and I don't want you and you scaring them away with your.."

"Lack of compassion?"

"No"

"Stories of the underworld?"

"Not quite"

"The impending sense of doom I tend to inflict on everyone and everything I come into contact with"

Mum snaps her fingers and nods as I simply toll my eyes before retiring back to my room.

Ever since I was young I knew I was different.

I never cared for the silly little cartoons and toys other people my age seemed to fawn over, no instead I spent my time writing stories and poetry on how I truly felt alone.

When I was in a particularly good mood I would write horror and poems describing death but the joyful poems seemed to be nothing in comparison to the lonieless ones.

And recently it has only gotten worse and mum and dad want to move out following my grandma's death to be closer to my grandad. For the longest time it's just been us and now we want I co-operate another person into our family, plus its bad enough having them judge me, I don't need another one and Grandads the worst, and with no Grandmare to keep him in check it's a death wish for a strange 18 year old.

"Ah the Addams! Please do come in"

I hear my mum greet them at the door and here four pairs of footsteps waddle in. I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling as I try to block out voices downstairs. I hear mum and dad and the four pairs of footsteps make their way up the stairs and pray I can be left alone in my room. They look around every other room and just as I think I have gotten away with it.

"What's this room?"

It'd a female voice and sounds like a Barbra. I bet she's a soccer mum with her two pride and joys following her. I can imagine their faces when they see my room decorated to my own taste. The whole room top to bottom is painted black with a old wardrobe I found on the street and painted it myself a desk homage by screws of wood from when dad build the shed full of pills of paper and my bed, a rectangle in the edge of the room, I loved it it was my safe place but mum and dad had there own views.

"Oh, that's my daughter's room! She isn't very sociable but I suppose I can nudge her out if you want to take a look..but uh I would warn you she has a particular..style but don't be alarmed! She's a sweetheart"

That was possibly the biggest insult of my life.

I hear a misrule knock on my door, the one that attempts to make a tune and u groan and mentally prepare myself for how this is going to go. I take a deep breath and open the door.

"Sweetheart do you mind stepping outside for a minute, our guests want to take a quick look at your room"

I squint my eyes at her as she over pronounces guests before nodding and walking to one side, and to say I was wrong about the family was an understatement.

The mum and dad seemed to pass as normal, each gave me a kind smile as they walked into my room, yes classic mum but I couldn't Imagine her being snobby, she had piercing black eyes and her hair just as striking. The dad however seemed to be a typical amefain one, just a little bit taller and seamed approachable.

Then came the other two.

The first one to walk in was a pale and Klippel-Feil Syndrome, don't ask why I know this I went thru a phase when I was younger and once it get focused on something I know everything about it so when I went through a Doctor phase I know know many desires of by heart and some would say its smart, others would say it's pathetic but either way it makes me stand out and that's always been the one thing I'm good at.

The first one walked in without acknowledging me, joining his parents in my dark whole of a room.

The second one though was different, he carried himself differently and almost made me feel small in my oversized hoodie and legend to his perfectly coordinated outfit from head to toe.

He looks to be about my age and his hair is slicked back and very impressive eye liner grazes his eyelids. His eyes are a dark brown colour and he's nothing like I have ever seen before. Unlike his brother, this one does acknowledge me in the best way possible. Before walking into my room he lifts my hand up to his mouth and gives it a light kiss. I turn my head questionly at him but even I can't deny they smile and blush creeping into my face, u haven't felt like this ever, I feel alive and I never want it to stop. He smiles into my hand and places it down.

"Pleasure to met you mon amour"

My love

"le plaisir est tout pour moi monsieur Addams"

The pleasure is all mine Mister Addams

Many sleepless nights also meant I was almost fluent in French witch Is weird I guess for having no desire to leave my room nerv mind going to another country but with all the books I had randomly on that topic it felt only right. I would be observer to by them books in hope of learning the language and finding true live at 10 years old, but harsh truth of reality kicked in at 12 and now I know what I'm destined to be

Alone.

The second one seemingly blushes before walking into my room, laughing. I could do amazing things, I do that alot.

Once everyone is in my room I head downstairs and put the TV on.

I glick through the channels before turning on Netflix and watch 'His houses' a personal favourite. Dad doesn't like me watching films like this but I don't see what's wrong with it, it isn't that scary despite others reactions to it and of anything I find amusing.

I hear mumbles of conversation upstairs until the four guests make her way back down.

"Y/n! What are you watching"

Mum urgently tries to get me to tint of my favourite film, what ist not like there's any kids around.

"His house"

I say not looking from the TV

"Why don't you watch it upstairs?"

"You just kicked me out of upstairs"

"Well I'm kicking you back in"

"Pourquoi as-tu si honte de moi?"

Why are you so ashamed of me?

"You know I don't speak french"

"Peut-être devriez-vous apprendre"

Maybe you should learn

"Y/n! Upstairs now!"

I sigh and turn the TV off and walk upstairs. I accidentally bump into the second one and he gives me an almost sad and understanding smile. I attempt one back but I can't imagine how it looks, I've always hated my smile. Before I walk up the stairs I feel him place something in my back pocket. I don't see what it is there since I want to get out of there as soon as possible but I would be lying if my hast wasn't only because of that.

I rush into my room and shut the door, I put on my small lamp in the corner of my room and reach into my back pocket. It s peace of paper, a cornet peace to be exact with a phone number scribbled on the the words-

Appelez-moi?

(Oui, je parle français)

Call me?

(Yes I speak french)

I smile widely at the note and even though I'm alone in my room I make sure no one's around.

I don't use my phone much, never mind texting but I suppose I can't make an exception.

I walk over to my desk and get it out the drawer and hope it has a battery in it.

15%

That's enough for now.

I get the paper and carefully type in the number. I'm.not sure what to do for the contact name, I don't know is name anyways and settle for

'The second one'

The name I have deemed him in my head.

Once I added the contact name I debate to send him a text right away or wait until he's left me I diced to wait as I don't want to seem desperate or needy but sit in since and hope in for them to just go so I can send him a text.

What should I say?

Hi I'm the weird girl who lives in the house your peratam are trying to buy?

Or

Where did you learn French?

Or

Hello!

The possibilities are endless but keep me entertained before I hear some polite goodbyes and the door shut. I pick up my phone and almost immediately start.

[>-Y/n >-Gomez]

Sorry you had to put up with my mum,<

she's insurable<

>I take it your the French speaking

Girl from the house?

>And don't worry my Mum's the same

Why? Do you give your number out<

often?

>No, actually you're the first.

I'm flattered<

>You should be

I never got your name?<

>Gomez Addams

>I never got yours either?

Y/N L/N<

You have a nice name<

>No tan hermosa como tu amor

Not as beautiful as yours love

That's not french<

>My family come from España

>How do you know french?

Don't know.. I guess I got bored<

>With what?

Everything<

>Fair enough

>Your different

What do you mean<

>Not sure yet

>Are you free tomorrow? There's a ice cream place I want to try

What time<

>3:00?

>I'll pick you up?

Will you pay?<

>Is this a deciding factor?

Yes<

>Then I will pay and pick you up

à bientôt Monsieur Addams<

See you there Mister Addams

>Et vous Mademoiselle L/N

And you Miss L/N

_______________________________________

I smile like a stuiped girl with a crush, witch I spouse I am and here my phone buzz,

5% Connect Charger

And I do just that, and maybe do a couple of happy stories, tonight seemed like the right night

#moon knight #blue jones x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #sucker punch #blue jones #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #gomez addams x reader #oscar issac as gomez addams

[utilitycaster]

Also Orym, for better or worse, seems to be the PC in C3 that people tend to project onto the most. Likely because he's kind, unassuming and almost a blank slate in a lot of ways (not a bad thing). He's the Good One. Which means a lot of people are projecting their ideals of Good on to him and then if/when he does something they don't agree with, or someone else labels as Bad, it can be confronting. So they say he's going dark when they mean he's doing something they personally wouldn't do.

So I agree that's probably a factor, and I guess my stance on media is like...I don't care, truly, if people project onto media, but so much criticism is based in "the show didn't do what I told myself it was supposed to" and not "the show didn't do what it stated it would do" and that's boring. Again. If you want to make yourself sad, that's fine. But if you can't engage with anything until you've trimmed it down to fit neatly into your comfort zone and experiences you are utterly not worth my time.

I also want to post the longer Brennan quote about rage and conflict because I think it's really relevant (again, from Dom or Be Dommed, episode 14 of season 1 of Adventuring Party):

"I remember one time 'cause in basic improv stuff, you teach people not to fight and a therapist one time, I was working at a camp, teaching LARPing and improv to children on the autism spectrum. We were working with a therapist who was working with them, who was writing a doctoral paper, and she mentioned one time about the no fighting rule. And she was like, "That's such a funny rule," because, of course, people put into a fictional circumstance are going to want to fight, because the idea of being able to express rage without consequence is such a cathartic thing for people who most often swallow rage."

Now this means a lot of things, and can be interpreted all sorts of ways but I think one of my biggest takeaways is that D&D (and other interactive play/acts of creation, whether it be other TTRPGs, one's own writing or art, or playing open-world video games) can be a place to explore some fucked up shit, or even some stuff that's not necessarily bad, but falls outside what you can do in real life. Like, in the real world chances are if you try to kill the unjust greedy baron equivalent you will get in trouble, and in D&D you will not only gain the love of the common people but you will also probably get a cool sword. And I think that occupies a very important place - that you can explore things you would never dream of doing in real life, and express ugly feelings and anger in a safe place and even be rewarded. And to be clear: it's a safe place for the artist or creator. There is no guarantee of a safe space for the audience.

If someone prides themselves on never crossing any lines they wouldn't in real life, and only liking the most squeaky clean morally pure characters, that's their own business. I also have no interest in anything they have to say.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag

[skelethom]

Skelethom - Welcome!

About me (๑'ᴗ')ゞ

Hello everyone! I'm Skelethom (Thomas, Thom or even Tom! Or whatever nicknames you come up with! I love nicknames), i go by he/him. I was born on November 19! I'm a scorpio, and my home country (who i never left) is Brazil, my first language is Portuguese, but i learned english all by myself (that's why it's so bad Lol), i also know a tiny lil bit of Spanish, French and Italian (but not as much as english).

My illustrations are made on my Phone (that isn't very good) using my finger to do so, same with the lil animations i make, i joined the eddsworld fandom in 2014/2015, started fully posting on Amino and Musical.ly but moved to Instagram, Twitter (but i deleted my posts) and Musical.ly turned into TikTok and i kinda never left so yay!

I have accounts on multiple websites but my nickname is almost never the same, i try to put "Thom" somewhere in my name but sometimes it doesn't work so it goes to my bio.

And also through my posts i got the chance to meet a lovely girl who i have the pride to announce as my girlfriend (who sometimes i call a wife since she'll have to get used to it) @doktorspiele-be , you guys should check her art, just saying.

Interests ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)

I simply love miniatures, they're adorable! Any and all kind of tiny stuff, i love dolls specifically porcelain ones!

My favorite character from eddsworld is Tom, i love pringles, my favorite dessert is oreo ice cream sandwich and a breakfast i like to eat once in a while is grilled cheese with chocolate.

I think gastronomy is amazing even though i barely know how to cook.

I love skeleton guys like Sans from undertale, Lewis from mystery skulls, ghost rider, Grim reaper from the Grim adventures of billy and mandy.

Which also reminds me that another one of my favorite things is "Old" animation, basically 2000’s cartoons! Jhonny bravo, KND (Kids Next Door), Cow and Chicken, Invader Zim, Courage, Dexter’s laboratory and ETC.

I like emoticons, Roleplay and RPGʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ!

I also have an interest in Gore, Torture (both physical and mental) and virus/infections!

DON'T (•ˋ _ ˊ•)

I'll say both what i don't do and what i don't want anyone doing around here.

I don't do Matt related requests! (Unless it's someone's self insert, in that case i can CONSIDER MAYBE doing it).

I don't do criminal weirdo shit neither do i want you guys asking for this kind of Stuff, if you support or like it unfollow me and go to the nearest police department :3 (P3do, Zoo, Necro and ETC).

Don't want ANYONE to fight over shipps on this account, this is a safe place for everyone (except the previously mentioned weirdos) so no shaming over something so silly as who they think would make a cute couple!

DON'T shame headcanons! "Oh but this is so inaccurate cause in the ep [..] He said" i don't care, let people have fun, let me have fun, and you can have fun without fucking everyone elses experience.

I don't like Ellsworld so i don't do Requests (again it depends on Self insert so i MIGHT do it).

I do not like video with sudden loud noises and i do not like jumpscares.

DON'T LIKE AT ALL: the owl house, helluva boss, hazbin hotel, viviziepop, muder drones, ANY minecraft smp’s, eddsworld beyond and maggots.

THIS POST CAN BE EDITED AT ANY MOMENT! WAAAA

Σ(ﾟДﾟ；)

But by now this is it! Buh bye!

#information #about me #oc #persona #selfsona #skelethom

[rancidpancakebatter]

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Four

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen didn't go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Implications of sex, marajuana use

Previous | Chapter List | Next

A/N: thank you guys for all the love on this series. It really means the world to me <3

On the car ride home, all you dreamed about was curling up on the couch with Harry to watch a movie. You felt tired and stressed, and you just wanted to unwind with your partner.

The car eventually came to a stop, and the driver opened Harry’s door, who then reached out his hand to you. He continued to hold your hand as you walked through the lobby entrance and waved to Paddy. Harry led you through the lobby and into the elevator, where he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, once behind closed doors. You melted into his arms, feeling safe and loved there. 

When the doors opened, you untied your shoes, toeing them off. You felt Harry’s hands on your shoulder as he moved to remove your jacket, like he always did in the rare instances you were wearing one. But then his hands stop, only pulling it off your back a few inches. 

“You didn’t leave with this on, did you?”

“Oh, it’s Peter’s. I spilt some coffee on myself, and he let me borrow it.” 

You frown as the words come out of your mouth. There was no reason to lie about why you had Peter’s jacket- and it wasn’t a complete lie- but it’s not like you could correct it now. You said it for whatever reason, and now you felt even grosser. 

“That was nice of him,” Harry says with a warm smile. One that twists your stomach, with the trust and pride oozing from his teeth. 

Harry was always proud to be friends with Peter. He looked up to him in a lot of ways. Growing up and around the one per cent, Harry had met a lot of men who would easily commit horrors against women and never lose an ounce of sleep over it. He worried about you in his world, but he liked to think he surrounded himself with good people, like Peter Parker. Someone who you could hang out with and be safe. Someone who took care of you when Harry wasn’t there to do it. Someone he trusted. 

“Yeah,” You say as you watch him hang the jacket up, “it was.”

You already miss the warm cotton you were surrounded in. You miss the comfort the jacket brought you. But you push away the thought, convincing yourself you only missed the jacket, and not Peter. 

A few hours later, you're curled up with Harry watching Finding Nemo. You have a list of movies that were staples in your childhood, but Harry hadn’t seen a lot of them. He was robbed of his youth, and you liked to work your way down them so Harry could have some of these experiences at least.

Marlin is scooped up in the pelican’s mouth, and Harry laughs beside you. But you can’t even focus on that. Your mind is, instead, thinking about how you’re gonna break the news to Peter that you won’t be in attendance at May’s Dinner- all because of another stupid gala. You want to ask if you have to go at all, but you already know the answer. Even if it’s the weekend before finals- even when it collides with life events- you know you have to go. 

You decide a text would be sufficient, lessen to blow. That way, you don’t have to see his puppy dog eyes and broken heart. 

To Peter: Hey! I’m so sorry, Harry and I have a fundraiser gala next week. We can’t make it to the dinner :((

You tuck your phone away so you don’t have to see his upset response. You don’t want him to try and convince you to go because you want to more than anything, and it would just break your heart to refuse him. 

What you don’t expect is for your intercom to go off fifteen minutes later. The buzz echoes around the space, bouncing off of each hard surface and startling you. Harry chuckles when you jump, and you swat his arm. 

“Mr Osborne,” Paddy’s warped voice says through the crackling speaker, “There is a Peter Parker here to see you. Shall I send him up?”

Harry looks to you for an explanation, but you have none. He shrugs before telling Paddy that’s fine. When the elevator doors open, Peter marches through with purpose. 

“Harry!” He blindly calls out to your boyfriend, not seeing you both peaking over the back of the couch. “Where you at, ya butt muncher?”

This was a common bit between them. They often would pretend to be very upset with each other for no reason, exchanging harmless playground insults between them. 

Harry’s face lit up when he saw his friend, and you thought it was adorable as he stood up on the couch cushions, almost falling over. “I’m right here, you tit!”

Peter whipped his head around, his smile grand as he laid his eyes on his best friend. He set his backpack on the floor and marched over to Harry, finger out and pointed at his friend’s face. It was quite comical to see. Peter is usually one of the tallest in the room, but to see Harry towering over him and Peter craning his neck upward to address him was amusing. 

“Get down from there this instance!” Peter scolded, “And join me on the balcony, so we can split a joint.” 

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up, not expecting the proposal. Harry didn’t smoke often; he preferred a good bourbon or whiskey to wind down. He looked down at you, silently asking if you were okay with this. You shrugged, saying you would make some snacks for when they came back. Peter thanked you, then extended his hand out to his friend. Once Harry grabbed it, he yanked him towards him, and Harry nearly toppled over as he tried to vault over the back of the couch. They giggled as they made their way outside.

You start on sandwiches and can’t help but chuckle at the pair outside, especially when you catch Peter’s eye- he sends you a wink. Harry is holding the joint like an old friend, smoke spilling from his mouth as he speaks to Peter. After about 10 minutes, the boys come back inside. Harry is leading, his shoulders sagging and his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Parker. There’s nothing I can do.”

Peter’s eyes are glassy, and his eyelids droop. 

“Oh, come on, Hare Bear, surely you can do something,” He tries as he strolls in behind his friend. “Maybe you would be okay with going solo?”

Harry plops dramatically on the couch, spreading a leg and arm over the back. “Well, that wouldn’t make much sense. Gwen can’t make her dinner party either, so it would just be you and (Y/n). Can’t we move the dinner?”

Peter seems to think it over, then flops down next to Harry. You think it’s funny how sometimes straight men are the gayest people out there. (Although Peter told you a few weeks ago that he may be bi, but that’s a different thing entirely.) They lay long ways on the couch, chest to chest, sharing each other’s air. And this is a very typical way to have a conversation with your good buddy. You snap a sneaky picture and send it to Gwen, knowing she’d get a kick out of it too. 

“I guess it makes the most sense that Gwen’s there to celebrate Gwen.” Peter says very slowly, like he’s thinking through each word. “I’ll ask May if we can move it.”

They’ve seemed to reach a resolution, so you decide now is the time to reannounce your presence.

“I’ve got your sandwiches!” You call from the kitchen and burst out in laughter as they try to untangle themselves and trip over the couch to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible, like a bit in The Three Stooges. You half expect to hear the sound effects as they knock things over and trip over their feet.

As you eat, Peter and Harry catch up for a bit. Peter, of course, tells Harry that they wouldn’t miss each other so much if he wasn’t always at work. They go back and forth for a bit, tip-toeing around any real anger. Some arms are slugged, but mostly laughter is swapped between them.

Peter suggests you guys watch a horror movie, and you think it’s a wonderful idea. Especially when he says he’s “got more grass to pass around.”

You feel great right now. Your body is softly buzzing, and your brain feels lighter. There’s a slasher on the tv, and you’re too mellow to even flinch. You’re leaned against Harry’s side as he plays with your hair, and your legs are stretched out over Peter’s lap as his hands skate across your tights. You didn’t change out of your outfit from before, but now you felt comfortable. You felt like nothing could bother you. Not even Harry passing out early when he promised he wouldn’t.

You only notice when he starts snoring softly above you. His head is resting on the back of the couch in a way that will definitely make itself known in the morning when he complains about the crick in his neck. His blond hair is fanned across his forehead, and his lips are parted. Peter chuckles beside you, noticing Harry about the same time you did.

He was mesmerised by the glow of the tv illuminating your face, how the shadows dance across your cheekbones, but then you turned your head away, and he followed your gaze to his best friend. 

You laugh as well, “He owes us fifty bucks.”

Peter leans forward, over your legs to grab his phone from the table. He checks the time and beams. 

“Hell yeah, he does. He said he wouldn’t crash before nine.” He shows you the time on his lock screen. “It’s barely eight thirty.”

“What a loser,” you joke. 

You sit up carefully, so as to not disturb him and climb out from under the blanket you share. You readjust it so that he’s covered and comfortable. You try to give him some space, knowing he’s not the biggest on cuddling, and that brings you closer to Peter. Peter who lifts his blanket up without even thinking, scooting over to make room for you as if it was second nature. Maybe first. 

You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer, enthusiastically scooching over to tuck yourself into his side. Peter throws the blanket around you, then moves his arm to rest on the back of the couch, so you can get closer. 

“Weed always makes me so cuddly,” You comment as you curl yourself up, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist.

Peter brings his other arm around to give you a tight squeeze, “Me too.”

Texas Chainsaw Massacre is still playing on the tv; you watch the rest of the film from the comfort of Peter’s arms. When the movie finally ends and the credits roll, neither of you moves to turn it off. You look at the table, littered with Chinese takeout ordered earlier and decide that was a problem for the morning. You were much too tired to clean. Peter’s heartbeat was dancing in your ears, and the melody was soothing. He’s comfy and warm. He smells great. Curling up with Peter is like the comfort of his jacket, but better. But it was getting late, and you knew you would have to leave your hovel soon. 

“You’re welcome to spend the night,” You whisper, “If you want.”

“Thanks,” Peter whispers back, “I think I will.”

“The guest bed is already made up, you're welcome to sleep there. Unless…”

You didn’t miss the way his heart rate accelerated at your cliffhanger.

“Unless, what?” Peter whispers. 

“Unless,” You say, walking your fingers across his chest, “you wanna hop in bed with me and Harry.”

Peter swats your hand, and you choke on your laughter. In the low light, you can see the red spreading across his face, but he laughs too. Enough that you move with the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Well, it’s not every day that you get invited to a threesome with your besties,” He jokes, “but I think I’ll have to decline this time.”

He pats your back, signalling to you that he’s going to get up now. You begrudgingly pull yourself away so he can stand. 

“There’s gonna be a next time?” You ask with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Peter reaches over to smack you with a pillow from the couch.

“There better be.” He warns.

Your laughter isn’t as quiet now, unable to keep it from rising as you joke around with Peter. Harry stirs, and you remember you have to go to bed too. And bring him with you.

“Such a lame-ass,” Peter jokes, following your gaze once again.

“That he is,” you chuckle, “but he’s a lame-ass who needs to make it up to his bed.”

You pull your eyes away from your sleeping boyfriend and see Peter still standing in front of you. He towers over you, and there’s a soft smile on his face. You feel your own cheeks warm at the affectionate gaze.

“Do you want help?” He asks sincerely.

You shake your head, waving your hand around, “Nah, it’s fine. I can handle ‘im.”

“Alright then,” Peter leans down and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, Heartbreaker.”

He turns to the staircase, slowly disappearing into the shadows the light can’t reach. You feel sad, watching him walk away, and can only tear your gaze away when you hear the bedroom door close. You sigh, knowing you have to get up. There was nothing keeping you on this couch. Certainly, not the childish hope that Peter would come back down- that he would change his mind and lay down with you again.

You turned, poking Harry’s cheek. “Hare, come on, get up.”

He wipes groggily at his face, his head finally lifted, and his eyes nearly closed. “What time is it?”

“Late,” You reply.

Harry groans again before finally standing. “I’m sorry, babe. I know you wanted to hang out.”

You reach for his hand, offering comfort. “It’s okay, Hon. I know you work a lot. You had a big day today; you must be exhausted.”

“Thanks, babe.” He stretches, then looks around. “Where’s Ole Pete?”

You tell him he’s crashing upstairs, and Harry says, “Good,” through a yawn. “I don’t want him on the train this late by himself.”

You chuckle, standing to grab Harry’s hands and kiss him on the cheek, “You’re such a sweet boyfriend.” 

“Thanks,” Harry smiles down at you, his thin lips tugged up at the corners despite his woolly-headedness, “I’m glad you think so.”

The next morning, you rise with Harry, though you get to skip the grooming routine on account of not having to go out today. Instead, you head downstairs to make breakfast. Harry, surprising no one, took his father’s “advice” and started eating healthier. He usually had a smoothie or a yoghurt bowl for breakfast now. But today, since you had the time to spare, you decided you would make something a little nicer for you and Peter. 

When whipping some eggs, you got distracted by a loud yawn that sounded a lot like a shout, a loud declaration of hate for the mornings. You knew who it was before looking. 

“Good morning, Pete,” You sang. 

“Mornin’.” You heard him grumble over the sound of heavy feet dragging down the hall. “Your stupid blender woke me up.”

As he collapses on the island, you fix him a glass of orange juice, lightly smacking his head so he would raise it from his folded arms. You place it in front of him- a warm smile on your face. 

“Sorry, bub, here’s some juice. It’s freshly squeezed, and the french toast will be done soon.”

Peter perks a bit, “You’re making me breakfast? And freshly juiced juice?”

“Of course.” You say as if that were a completely average thing. Like it wasn’t one of the kindest gestures Peter’s been offered. As if your food isn’t always incredible. As if you don’t pour your heart and soul into everything you make. 

His voice is heavy with what you perceive as sleep, “Thank you.”

The morning is peaceful. Down below, the city drummed on as you hummed along to a song that only your heart knew. The quiet sizzle of egg frying in the pan joined in with adjoining harmony. The sweet melody flitted through the air. 

Then a door creaking shut, and light steps on the stairs. Your body moves faster than your brain, your spine straightens, and your shoulders roll back. Your voice stops, and your hips no longer sway to the music made. 

 “It smells amazing in here! Whatcha making, babe?”

Peter watched the change and wasn’t sure what to make of it. Your smile remained and grew as you greeted your boyfriend. You seemed happy. But stiff. 

“I’m making French toast,” You chirp. 

He slides in behind you to wrap his arms around you, while you stand at the stove. For some reason, it doesn’t sit right with Peter. But it should. Because you lean into his touch, kiss his cheek, and call him a sweet pet name. And it’s then that Peter realises there’s an odd painting on the wall that he’s never truly appreciated, but then he remembers his phone is a lot more entertaining. 

“It looks great,” Harry compliments, “but I think I’ll have to scrounge around for something else.”

You don’t notice, lost in Harry’s tender embrace, but Peter rolls his eyes. 

“Well, lucky for you,” you say with a smug-ish tone, breaking away from him to grab something from the fridge, “I already made your smoothie.”

Harry beams at you, and you tap your cheek. He chuckles at your antics and pays his “tax”

“I love you,” He says against your cheek, then turns to Peter, “You too.”

Peter throws an orange peel across the room that he found on the counter, and Harry laughs as he dodges it, then takes a seat next to his friend. 

“Mornin’ Pete!”

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Great,” Harry says between slurps, “What time did I crash?”

“Pay up o’clock,” Peter says, not missing a beat.

“That early, huh?”

“Yep.” Peter says, popping the “p”, “about eight thirtyish.” 

The conversation is paused as you serve Peter his plate, pushing little bowls of topping towards him to enjoy and Harry digs around for his wallet. He slides a fifty across the counter, shaking his head. 

“Weed always makes me pass out.” he sighs, clapping Peter on the upper back, then stands. “I’ve gotta go if I don’t wanna be late. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to hang out.”

Peter stands as well, opening his arms to hug his friend. Harry immediately takes him up on the offer. 

“It’s all good man, I get it.”

Harry smiles, pulling away to fix his suit jacket, “Alright, well, you’re welcome to stay- hang out with (Y/n).” He goes to call the elevator, and as he steps into the door, he points at Peter, gathering his full attention, “I’ll see you for the Dinner.”

You both wish him goodbye as he disappears behind the closing doors. When you hear the gears begin to whirl, you look to Peter, who was already looking at you.

“Do you have any plans today?” 

“Nothing much.” You shrug, taking Harry’s seat. “I need to study for finals, but I’ve got nothing else going on.”

Peter slides his phone towards you, with an Instagram post pulled up. 

“Dog Water’s doing a show in Harlem tonight.” He says. “They just posted this- And look!”

You follow his fingers as he zooms in, “They’re not even announced on the posters. Totally a last-minute, ‘yeah, we’ll do it’, show. Do you wanna go?”

You tell him it’s a great idea and start figuring out the schematics of the plan as you eat your breakfast. You don’t notice the little happy dance you do after your first bite, your fork pointed in the air, your head bobbing side to side as you chew. The brightness in your eyes as you try to figure out what you wanna wear, and the glow in your cheeks as you decide when you should stop studying to get ready on time. It’s adorable, really.

There’s hair falling in your face, and Peter wants to brush it away, but nothing is worth disturbing the sight in front of him. The morning sun comes in from the floor-to-ceiling windows and bathes you in angelic light that makes Peter’s heart flip; then sink. He tears his gaze away, suddenly not hungry anymore. 

He announces that he’s finished, and you rise from your half-eaten meal to clean his plate before he stops you. “I can do it; you’re still eating.”

You didn’t notice before, but Peter wasn’t in pyjamas, just the T-shirt from the night before and his green and blue, plaid boxers. Your heart warmed at the thought that he felt so comfortable here that he could do dishes in his boxers and not bat an eye. You took in his form as he stood at the sink, the way his arms flexed as he scrubbed. When he turned around, arms holding him up as he leaned against the counter, your eyes trailed down- noting where his clothing hung and hugged.

“I’m gonna go, I got some stuff to do, and I don’t want to interrupt your studying.”

He goes upstairs to change, then returns downstairs. You give him a big hug before he leaves, soaking in whatever it is that makes Peter’s hugs the best, knowing you wouldn't get another for at least ten hours.

“Pick you up at eight?” He asks, his chin moving against your skull.

“Hmm,” you hum, “7:30 gives us time to eat.”

Peter rubs circles on your back, and you try your best not to melt more, but then he pulls away before you can. He doesn’t go far, manoeuvring more into a side hug with his arm still around your waist as he calls the elevator. 

“You’re so right,” The doors open and he beams at you, “See you later, Heartbreaker.”

He bends down and places a kiss on the crown of your head. You freeze with a smile on your face as you watch Peter disappear behind the same doors Harry did. 

You felt…weird. Or like you were acting weird. Your heart bangs in your chest and your lungs struggle to work around it. 

It’s not weird that he did that. He’s done it before, like once. You were both really drunk and giggling at the gag gift you got Peter. It was a pair of novelty socks. They were blue and white, with an image of Santa Claus holding a manora. He kissed your forehead very dramatically, showing his appreciation. 

He’s never done it so casually. But casual affection was not uncommon amongst your friends. You all hugged, held hands, and dogpiled on the couch. Harry kisses Gwen’s cheek in greeting. And it’s not weird because you’ve kissed Gwen’s cheek too, and Peter’s cheek. And Peter kissed your cheek last night, when you were too tired to make it a big deal. Which it isn’t, and it’s not weird that your heart does a little flip in your chest when you realise you can still feel where his lips touched you.

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