#i was going to do that regardless but yeah

[luveline]

omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox

what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭

Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask. 

Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back. 

“Hotch?” 

“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately. 

“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”  

You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now. 

“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.” 

“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.” 

He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required. 

“I’ll get it for you,” he promises. 

“Thank you, Aaron.” 

“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.” 

He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”

“I can’t eat.” 

“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”  

You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say. 

“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.” 

You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake. 

You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved. 

You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all. 

Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?” 

“I’m being quick!” 

“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?” 

“Yeah, dad.” 

“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?” 

“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”

“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?” 

“Yes. Please. Hug?” 

They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi baby. You hungry?” 

“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.” 

You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder. 

“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur. 

“Pretty please.” 

“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.” 

“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I won’t. Thank you, babe.” 

Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?” 

“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.” 

You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture. 

“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.

“I can go get dad.” 

“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.” 

Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin. 

“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?” 

“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.” 

To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want. 

Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?” 

You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.” 

“I’m fine. My hands are full.” 

“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.” 

He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”

“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!” 

“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.” 

Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”  

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Having them as best friend's:

Multiple X Reader

Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino

ALASTOR

You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!

He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.

Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.

You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.

The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.

You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.

Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.

He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.

If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.

He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!

Angel Dust

Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.

But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.

Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.

Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!

Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.

The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.

When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.

But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.

Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.

Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."

Husk

The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.

He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.

Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.

He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.

He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.

He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."

And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.

The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.

He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.

He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.

Charlie

Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)

She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.

You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.

You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.

Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.

Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.

If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.

She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."

A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.

She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.

Lucifer

Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.

When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.

On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"

He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.

He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.

The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.

Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.

No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.

Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.

So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!

Vox

You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.

Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!

Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.

You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)

No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.

If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.

You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.

If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.

"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.

Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.

Velvette

She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.

Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.

Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.

You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."

Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.

She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.

You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!

She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.

Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.

Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.

Rosie

Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.

Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.

In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.

She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.

She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."

At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.

She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.

She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.

Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.

She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!

Adam

He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.

There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.

Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.

He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.

The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.

You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.

He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.

The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.

There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.

Lute

She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.

But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?

If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.

She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."

She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.

Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.

She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.

Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.

She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.

She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)

(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)

Valentino

He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.

Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.

You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.

It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.

Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.

He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.

He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.

You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."

He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.

He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.

A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.

Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.

Part Two

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #charlie morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #valentino hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

[gay-dorito-dust]

Do you think you could write some hcs about HSR men comforting reader who woke up from a nightmare?

Bonus if the source of the nightmare was Silver Wolf telling scary stories.

Argenti

Would immediately wake up the moment he senses that your sleep was being disturbed.

‘My sweet, what’s troubling you?’ He’d ask you, his eyes shone with concern.

‘Just got spooked by the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You tell him.

‘Aww my beloved rose.’ He coos softly.

‘I know it’s stupid.’ You scoffed.

‘Oh no, not at all.’ He replied as he scooted himself closer to you and brought his hands up to hold your face and used his finger pads to caress your skin soothingly.

‘It’s okay to be scared for it is a reaction shared amongst all beings, but you should never feel such a way when I’m here to keep you safe.’ Argenti said as he presses his forehead to yours and began to hum a sweet, tender melody that swiftly had you drifting off back sleep within seconds.

‘Goodnight my beloved rose.’ He whispered after performing his song, pressing a kiss to your forehand and followed you in the dream realm where he could continue protecting you.

Welt

When Welt saw you had woken yourself from a nightmare and were obviously still reeling from the effects, he would wordlessly bring you into his arms slowly enough as not to frighten you and have you rest your head against his chest.

‘Are you comfortable in telling me what happened?’ He asks barely above a whisper.

‘It’s stupid.’ You replied, voice muffled from the way your face was pressed against his chest.

‘Not if it’s got you frightened this badly.’ He says against your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.

‘It was the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You finally tell him after debating on it for a bit.

‘It was truly a well put together story,’ Welt began as he recalled the events of last night and how tense you were the entire time, ‘I must admit I was slightly taken aback at times.’

You raised your head from his chest to look him in his warm eyes. ‘You were scared too?’ You asked.

‘Kind of.’ Welt chuckles as he brought your head back to his chest and press several kisses to your forehead. ‘Now if I’m allowed, I would like to tell you a story of my own. I must preference this beforehand that it’s not a well written one, but I hope it brings you comfort regardless.’

‘Please.’ You pleaded as you burrowed yourself further against his chest, practically clinging on to him. ‘Anything you say is better than nothing.’ You added.

‘Very well then.’ Welt cleared his throat. ‘There once was a young lady with vibrantly pink hair who had an…habit of wandering into places she probably shouldn’t have. This is merely one story out of many, many, many others…’

Blade

Is an extremely light sleeper, so any movement you made was picked up almost immeditly and he was more than ready to grab his sword when he felt your breath hitch in your throat.

He genuinely thought you were in danger, only to find out you had just woken up from a nightmare.

‘What’s wrong.’ He’d ask gruffly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

‘Nothing.’ You replied.

‘Bullshit.’ He scoffs.

‘Fine it was the scary story Silver Wolf told.’ You admitted and Blade raised a brow.

‘You do know none of it’s real right?’ He then asks while biting back a yawn.

‘Yeah no shit but that doesn’t stop the fact that it really freaked me the fuck out.’ You told him as you looked away from him, knowing you weren’t going to get much comfort out of him, seeing as how he’s never known a day of it.

Blade sighed when you showed him your back, knowing you were expecting to be comforted, as he then shuffles himself behind you and puts his arms over your waist all the while caging you against his chest.

‘Nothings going to get you, I won’t allow it.’ He reminds you as he burrows his face into your neck. ‘So there’s no need to be afraid when I’m here and am willing to put body on the line if it meant you sleeping soundly. What’s a few new scars compared to the old.’ He adds as he kept his eyes locked onto the door to the bedroom for a while, just long enough for you to comfortably go back to sleep before following soon after.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #welt yang imagines #welt yang imagine #welt yang x reader #welt x reader #argenti x reader #Argenti imagine #Argenti imagines #blade imagines #blade imagine #blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade x you #hsr argenti x reader #hsr welt x reader

[luimagines]

Two in a Bush

Another commission!

They asked for Reader getting separated in a dungeon and Wild panics to find them. :D 

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild wasn’t sure what to expect of a place like this.

He didn’t have anything like this in his world. He had the Divine Beasts that he had to figure out but those were giant mechanical weapons. Not some fortress that had a hidden secret at the end. 

Comparing the two- he supposes they aren’t all that different. From the monsters, to the puzzles, to even the multiple floors for a few of them, Wild could confidently say that he still had no idea what he was doing. Luckily, many of the others seemed to have more than enough practice and experience to go around. Wild was more than happy to leave the spearheading to them.

It gave him an excuse to look after you instead.

You were a special circumstance amongst this group of heroes. It caught Wild’s attention in more ways than one.

It was just unfortunate that you had zero fighting experience like the rest of them. Not that he personally considered it a fault of yours, don’t misunderstand him, but the idea of being with a group that does nothing but fight without being able to fight didn’t sit right with him. Granted, he was happy and delighted by the idea that you came from a place where you could live normally. It made him jealous in a good way. He wanted that for himself as well- but you would have had it from the beginning and that’s something that he knew he would never achieve.

However this also meant that they would have to be on the lookout for you specifically. Without any knowledge of how to properly defend yourself, it meant that they would have to pick up the slack.

Not that they would ever phrase it that way and much less to your face. Wild had thought that he could take the opportunities to look cooler and more heroic in an attempt to catch your attention but even he knew that it was a fool’s dream to picture it that way… That didn’t stop him from day dreaming though.

Regardless, he stuck by your side as the group explored the dungeon, sword at the ready and willing to defend you if needed.

You seemed content to explore the dungeon just like the rest of them, keeping pace and looking around with childlike wonder on your face. It made Wild smile.

Suddenly, the group was attacked.

Everyone sprang into action, Wild included to take down the threats in the new room. While there was usually only a handful per section, this room had an unusually high amount of monsters. It took all hands on deck to diminish the threat and clear the area before they could continue exploring.

Wild was lucky enough to stay behind the larger hoard of monsters, shooting at the threats to help his brother before they broke the line. He switched to his sword and charged ahead, slashing the threats along with the others until there weren’t any left. Tired, but relieved, Wild turned back to you with a smile on your face.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

His heart dropped and so did his sword from his hand. The metal clang echoed in the room. “Guys?”

Many turned their heads to him. 

Wild looked back to the group asking for where you were, prompting them to look around the room as well. Wild didn’t like the looks on their faces as they came to the same conclusion they did.

“Where did they go?” Wind scratched the top of their head.

“Were they pushed out of the room?” Twilight stood straighter, jogging to the entrance for a better look.

Hyrule followed the Rancher without missing a beat. “If they didn’t, then we have a bigger problem on our hands than any puzzle we can find in this dungeon.”

Wild could feel his anxiety rise within him. You were right there. How could he lose you? There’s still more monsters to go through. You can’t fight them. You can’t. He needs to find you. He needs to find you now.

“Oh hello.” Legend whistles, calling the attention of the others. “Champion, were you over here at first?”

Wild turns around and nods. “Yeah, I tried to keep them here so they wouldn’t be cornered so easily if they had to run.”

He doesn’t like the look on Legend’s face. There’s a panel on the wall but Wild didn’t think much of it at first.

Legend points to it. “Who wants to bet they’re on the other side?”

“What?” Warrior furrows his eyebrows. “What does a weird wall with a human shape have to do with-”

Legend grins and places himself in the human imprint. The wall spins suddenly with a quiet whirr and returns to its original position. Without Legend in it.

Wild doesn’t want to waste any time. He runs to the panel despite the cries of the other boys, too in shock over Legend’s disappearance to stop him from doing the same. He places his back to the metal and gasps as it spins just as it did for the Veteran.

He comes face to face with another room entirely and takes a step away. The wall stays the same. 

Legend dusts himself as he takes in the new room. He’s looking at the map they collected earlier, trying to figure out where they go and where this would lead. He’s scratching the side of his head, pushing his hat to a dangerous edge where it could fall off with one movement. He looks perplexed. He doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. Wild doesn’t want to think about going into uncharted waters and what that could mean for you.

Wild scans the room as well. There’s some more monster hidden in the shadows to his left and there’s a deadend to his right. In front of him, there is a hallway just beyond the room but there’s another exit just ahead of the monsters.

The monsters notice him and begin to make their way closer to the duo. The wall behind them spins again, signaling the arrival of a third member but Wild pays no attention to it.

He still can’t find you so he takes off running, picking a random exit in hopes that it leads him to where you could be. How far could you get in such a short time? Surely he could catch up in time before something happens, right?

He hears the Four call after him but he pays no mind to it. Footsteps begin to echo behind him along with the muffled cries of the monsters as they were shot on sight.

Wild takes a deep breath and looks around. He finds a new spot but there’s still no sign of you, even as he desperately begins to call for your name. There’s more monsters in this new room and he’s quick to deal with them. His building panic and frustration adds fuel to the fire as he channels it into a quiet rage to kill the offending beasts.

Once the room is empty, it remains empty. Not wanting to waste any more time, Wild turns on his heels and runs out as fast as his feet can carry him. 

He’s already lost. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the others are, nor does he hear them anymore. His breath is the only sound to surround him. It comes out haggard and stunted. He coughs- feeling a drop of saliva attempt to go down the wrong pipe.

Wild whips his head up, not bothering to continue catching his breath. He starts running again, finding a new path into a new room. There’s more monsters and he deals with them as quickly as the prior ones. 

Panic has fully set into his bones as each turn produces more and more failure.

Tears well up in eyes and in his frustration, Wild punches the wall. He hurts his hands more than he hurts the wall.

As in response, he hears a sound. It’s muffled and faint, but he can hear the familiar cry of rage and determination just beyond the bricks and mortar. It’s a battle cry.

It sounds like you.

Spurred on by the sound, Wild goes on the attack. He beats the wall with everything he has before the ground beneath him gives way. He tumbles and instinctually tucks himself into a ball. Wild wraps his arms around his head and uses his legs to try and gain control of his graceless descent. He eventually comes to a grinding halt and he unfurls himself from the positions he’s put himself in.

He is only inches away from the edge of what appears to be a cliff. His heart jumps at the sight as he rolls away.

Wild, remembering why he had tried to get through the wall to begin with, pushes himself to his feet.

A monster cries before it dies, quickly followed by more and more sounds of pain and anger. Another battle cry rings out, this time much more clear than what Wild had heard previously. 

It is most definitely you.

Wild looks over the edge hesitantly. It would be great if he had finally found you… But it would be a hit to his psyche if he were to see you in battle. He’s afraid of what he might see. Are you hurt? Are you terrified?

He looks over anyway.

Instead of terror, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that same determined look on your face that he’s seen on so many other faces. Your eyebrows are closely knit together and there’s a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before.

They’re hardened and sharp. There’s an ax in your hand that you no doubt stole from one of the monsters you must have come across. You look angry and there’s multiple splatters of blood over your clothes and exposed skin. The fabric that covers sticks to your body from the sweat you’ve produced from the intensity you’ve put into defending yourself. 

Wild finds himself glued to your figure. You fight ferociously even though your lack of training is evident. He watches you with his jaw agape and his hand on the handle of the sheikah slate. He’s entranced. This is hot.

The sheikah makes the familiar sound of a picture being taken before he reaches for his bow. From above, he aims for the monsters that come against you. His attacks throw the monsters into confusion as they search for the second hidden threat. The distraction gives you the perfect opportunity to strike them back and finish them off.

Once the last of the monsters has fallen, its body fallen beside the others, you take the last remaining part of your sleeve and wipe your forehead. You smear the blood splotches over your cheek in the process. Wild takes another picture. You look up, using your hand to try and block out any competing light and see him.

Wild snaps one more picture, hoping that it catches the way you instantly relax and smile up at him. He hopes he catches the way your eyes light up at the sight of him and the way you’ve held the weapon high in the air in greeting, making it look more like a victory stance over your enemies. He waves back enthusiastically. He’s never felt more proud in his life. “You did it!”

“Link!” You cry back and drop the weapon. You run close to the cliff, craning your neck to your sight on him. “You found me!”

Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Wild shakes his head affectionately and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t see your eyebrows furrow again or the confused tilt to your head. Instead, Wild takes a running leap and jumps off of the cliff. He opens up the paraglider and uses it to glide down safely to where you stand.

You run to him before he hits the ground, nearly tackling him as he lands. Wild wraps his arms around you instinctually, calming his pounding heart now that you’ve returned safely to his arms. You take in a shuddering breath and tuck your face into the crook of his neck. You feel inclined to repeat yourself. “You found me.”

“I wouldn’t stop searching until I did.” Wild whispers. He pulls back and wipes the remaining blood off of your face. “What happened? How did you end up here?”

You smile sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck. “During that first fight, I got pushed back far enough into the wall. It spun around and next thing I knew, I was in another room. I saw the monsters on the far end and figured that it would be better to not be spotted. I snuck out and only ran into more monsters so I kept going. Next thing I know I ended up down here and couldn’t not fight back.”

“Where did you even get the ax?”

“I stole it.”

Wild snickers and finally lets you go. His hands rest on your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You grin in return, putting on a smirk. “I just pretended they were customers on Black Friday. I’ve always wanted to fend them off with a stick.”

He has no idea what that means. “Ok- but you had an ax and they were monsters.”

“...High stakes Black Friday shoppers.”

Wild hangs his head in defeat. He tries his hardest to not laugh at your facial expression. It seems as if you know what you’re talking about at least, so it’s a small comfort. “Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are the others waiting for us?” You take his hand, stepping in time with him as he takes a good look around this new area. For the better part, it looks like a ditch with no way in or out- except for above.

“Sooomething like that.” Wild chews on his lip, switching to his climbing gear. He picks you up with zero hesitation, throwing you onto his back and he begins to scale the wall. You yelp and shriek, hitting his back as he climbs.

“Hey! A warning would have been great!”

“Hang on. I got this.”

“...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You snort. He’s ignoring your tone on purpose. Slowly, you adjust yourself on his back so you don’t fall off and wait until he’s reached the top. Once he lets you down, you smack the back of his head.

He blocks it effortlessly, leaning in instead to kiss your cheek. There’s laughter on his breath as he checks you out once more.  “I hope you're ready for a lot of walking. I’ll have you know that we are very lost.”

“Are we?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment and look back at Wild. You end up chewing on your lip as well. “Are we in trouble?”

“You? No. Me? Most definitely.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu wild #the title was a placeholder #and it stuck #it has nothing to do with the story ^.^*

[melrosing]

the thing that annoys me the most about the bullying claim among the stark sisters is that they talk about how much it affects Arya that she thinks she’s ugly and such and like she does, but she’s so much more worried about being “bad” she killed a boy. She’s also going through poverty and war and starving and being introduced to cults/bands of “justice” by murder

but nooooo she totally is more affected by being called horse face despite being compared to SOOOOOO MANY PRETTY PEOPLE AND THAT MEANS SHES GOOD (never mind that good looking=good person should NOT BE YOUR BASIS)

I think most people, and especially girls, know exactly how it feels to worry about your appearance and feel ugly and unattractive, and I get that this is a particular pain for Arya, who apparently has never been called pretty except by her dad one time in AGOT, in an offhanded comparison to her aunt Lyanna. I don't think attractiveness is the most important thing to validate in any child, but I do think that it is good and nice to affirm to your child that they have their own beauty, so that they can then negotiate their relationship with that word from a safer place in adulthood.

It's not about telling your child they don't look a certain way (e.g. no good telling Brienne she's a normal height and her nose is hardly crooked at all), but that the way they look is something unique to them and something they should take pride in, regardless of what others say. Like I think it's an OOC moment in the show, but I think it's sweet when Olenna tells Brienne she looks 'marvellous' or something. She's not saying 'you look like bella hadid', she's saying 'I love the way you look!' to a woman who has received nothing but insults (despite looking like fuckin. Gwendoline Christie lmao). that is nice. it's not the most important compliment anyone can receive, but it embraces divergence as positive.

as it goes though, Arya is a pretty girl and it's just weird that the adults found countless compliments for Sansa and none for Arya. and that's why I find it so bizarre that everyone wants to pin Arya's self-esteem issues on Sansa, a prepubescent child!! like, would Arya have taken these insults so hard if Cat had stepped in and said 'don't listen, you're a lovely girl and your father says you look just like your aunt Lyanna! sansa i am telling you off for calling people names'. children are always going to call each other mean names! it is one thing that is practically guaranteed to happen in any sibling relationship, and anyone who says otherwise is an only child or lying.

but it is much harder for a child to manage that hurt if they're getting called those names, and society seems to be reifying to truth of them at every turn! Septa Mordane is calling her ugly! Cat is calling her a mess! Ned has never complimented her till AGOT! etc! she has never received a compliment before! so how on earth can you say 'and Arya's self-esteem issues can all be traced back to the playground bickering between she and Sansa and Jeyne' when Arya is obviously getting the same message from what seem like far more authoritative sources! is it not worse that those sources are all complimenting Sansa all the time and never Arya? does that not make it worse when Sansa acts like a child about it? like!!

and yeah I agree that there are other more painful insecurities Arya is struggling with. I do think at least part of the reason that this argument keeps coming up in fandom is that people keep trying to claim that Arya's story is similar to Brienne's, in that she IS ugly according to society's standards and that's ok! which isn't true, Arya is canonically a pretty kid with a dirty face and unbrushed hair. that's all it is. so if we could just accept that, there'd be no excuse for the insistence that this is an important aspect of Arya's story.

because it isn't. like im sorry but the ugly duckling means nothing when there are plenty of people who don't grow up to be swans. they get called ugly as children, and they get called ugly as adults. look at Brienne: she has suffered far, far worse prejudice as a result of her appearance in childhood, and she doesn't get the catharsis of growing up pretty to show them all how wrong they were. Brienne has been treated like a fucking monster for how she looks, all of her life. this is a character for whom her appearance IS actually an important theme, and it will be meaningful to see her realise it's a strength, and find love etc. I'm sorry but Arya growing up to be beautiful doesn't mean shit to me lol. I fully accept it's canon, but it is not a meaningful story beat, in a story with people like Tyrion, Brienne and Sam. Arya's story has so many more fascinating themes about identity, trauma, justice, war, friendship and family. if Arya was pretty all along, why should I care?

#ask #asoiaf #arya stark

[ratgrinders]

i think you’re entirely right btw, i really doubt that the girl who seemingly wants attention and achievement bad enough was going into high school expecting to step on rats in the woods… i feel like she thinks it’s either like 1) it’s the only thing i can do to catch up/make up for this unfairness 2) another person or people in the ratgrinders pushed the idea ????? regardless i don’t think it’s her idea

yeah! like my thought process is if kipperlily is so immensely jealous of the bad kids for succeeding at all these big adventures, and we've already seen how far she's willing to go to achieve her goals (trying to dig up dirt on her parents, digging up the rogue teacher), then to me i think she'd be doing everything she can to FIND a big adventure rather than explicitly avoiding them.

i was thinking if this was the case, maybe that's part of why she goes silent in jawbone's counseling sessions when he asks "okay, but what's something you can do to become a better adventurer?". because in her eyes she's doing everything she CAN to become an adventurer and is being held back by things outside her control (the perceived "unfair advantage" the bad kids get, and her party not being as motivated as her). and maybe she didn't want to throw her party members under the bus. idk tho.

#it still could turn out to be that it was her idea all along to grind rats #but either way there's still something interesting to me about the leader of the group NOT wanting to be called the rat grinders #and getting outvoted by her own party #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #original post #rat grinders #kipperlily copperkettle

[mysterycitrus]

Quick question about how you decide what comics to care about? When it comes to characterization?

I know there’s comics that are generally considered ooc and no one really incorporates them into their characterizations. (Eg: I skimmed All Star Batman and Robin for fun. I now understand why people call him Crazy Steve, and I’m obviously not going to be taking this particular iteration of Batman and Robin into account when characterizing them.) But other than these really obvious instances, how do you deal with it? Like, I know fans of pre-N52 comics avoided a lot of stuff during that time? But now that we’re in Rebirth? I know that characterization in comic fandoms is always a bit thorny because of comic books as a medium, with all those different writers, timeline resets, etc… But you seem to have a really good handle on that, cause whenever I read any of your stuff and then read a comic, I’m usually like, yeah, same person here. Which I think is a feat! So, do you sort on vibes? Writers? Another metric? Case by case? TLDR: How do you deal when a character canonically says/does something that makes you go, “he would not fucking say that?”

Love your blog! And your writing!!!! Thank you!!!!!

ahh, crazy steve. what a guy (derogatory)

hmmmmmm for me personally if im writing a character i generally identify a “core” comic, regardless of retcons or conflicting characterisation, and then go off that. im reading a lot of bart allen atm so i focused on mark waid and todd dezago and completely ignored everything geoff johns has done with the character. for dick, scott snyder and judd winick are kinda the benchpoint for me, and then i kinda pick and choose (from wolfman, dixon, higgins, etc) what i think fits with that character. jason is easy cause he’s only had two comics worth anyone’s time. weirdly, some of roys best comics are written by devin grayson. so on and so forth.

wrt “he wouldn’t fucking say that” disease of which i am a chronic sufferer, I look back on dick (as an example) and his legacy characterisation, and whether or not it would make sense. not all legacy characterisation is good, mind!! but it’s generally easier to get a good benchmark if u go off a period when writers weren’t terminally on twitter. a lot of it is case by case, and i just map that in my brain

idk like SO much of it is just vibes and trying to create some internal consistency. like u said — there is so much conflicting characterisation and plotting and events that it can be very difficult so u just kinda have to trust ur own intuition. when i first posted persephone and got positive feedback for how i wrote dick I was kinda surprised — cause how i write him tends to clash with his popular depiction in both fandom and many modern comics. ig my real advice if ur writing (or reading) about these characters is to not fear complexity, and be conscious of exactly how racist most comic writers are.

#so sweet!!! but yeah comics can be whack #never fear conflicting characterisation !!! pick ur own adventure!! #Dick grayson #nightwing #dc comics #Batman #the ask and the answer

[piplup335]

Subspace & a reader who is a toxic player!

HEYA, FELLAS!!!

sry I didn’t have time to write, I was quite busy these few days ;-; but hey, now I have time to write! I’m just cramming out whatever time I have to finally rest and finish up reqs :D

honestly I like writing for you all, so I’m not a fan of going inactive LMAO

anyway, enjoy!

requested by…yeah, you already know who you are, you just don’t wanna admit it. I know who you are :)

-

"At last."

Subspace could feel the smugness radiating off of Medkit as he fired a crystal, instantly healing his teammates. Subspace had tried to chase after and take down the other team's Shuriken for one and a half minutes, only to get shot and taken down by Medkit himself, his sworn enemy.

Or rather, Subspace himself didn't try to take down Shuriken.

It was the player. The one controlling him.

More specifically, someone named (Y/N). He overheard the name when someone yelled at them to keep quiet…and judging by the tone, it seemed like this wasn’t the first time.

Deep down, Subspace never wanted to fight anyone. He just wanted to stay in his lab in Blackrock, tinkering on his newest experiments and inventions, improving the Biografts he held so dear to him...after all, the Biografts were the "people" he truly felt close to, the beings he saw as children.

But no, the creators of the endless game he was trapped in pulled him out of Blackrock for ungodly amounts of time, only being able to leave when the server was shut down for maintenance or when the game was closed for updates.

He rarely even got to see his creations as often, only being able to catch sight of them in what the players called a "lobby" or during one of the matches. Regardless of whether Biograft or Hyperlaser was on the same team as him or not, a familiar sight was always appreciated.

To the players, it was just an average video game where you use random characters and fight each other with swords and stuff.

To Subspace, it was hell.

He wanted to be left alone to work on his creations in the eternal winter of Blackrock.

But no, he had to be pulled out of the comfort of his lab just to fight people, most of whom he had never met before.

He didn't even have control of his actions either- everything was decided by the player.

The player. Subspace shuddered at the thought.

He always hated losing control of his body, watching helplessly as the player controlled his every movement. Controlled where he walked, who he attacked, how he attacked...Subspace couldn't even run to save his life if he wanted to.

Sometimes, whoever the player was would be nice to him. On those days, the player would make smart decisions to avoid death, allowing him to effortlessly eliminate multiple opponents by utilising his poisonous tripmines to shred the opposing team's defences.

In other scenarios such as this one, however, the player controlling him was terrible.

They would make the worst possible choices, immediately charging into battle even though he was meant to attack from a distance. They never used his crystals effectively, missing the opportunity to immobilise and slow down his opponents...they made so many bad decisions it was almost impressive.

Today, however, seemed a lot worse.

Not only did this one player, (Y/N), suck at utilising his abilities, but he would also curse him out for being "bad" and "useless".

And now, here he was. He was faced with a death screen with his limp body on the ground as Medkit ran past him to heal the rest of his team.

The player had spent almost two minutes trying to take down a SINGLE PLAYER. The amount of misfires on other people was impressive at that point...

And now it was all for nought.

"Damn it! You suck at this! I spend so much time trying to kill someone and I can't because you do less than 5 hitpoints for your normal attack!"

Subspace internally groaned at this. He was not allowed to cry out loud or make a sound outside his usual voice lines- that would alert the player that he and the others were self-aware about these phights being nothing more than a game.

He forced himself to keep his mouth shut.

Subspace was irritated- he wanted to yell out loud, retort at the player and get some common sense into his head. He wanted to instruct the player as to how to properly play him so that maybe, just maybe, the player could shut up for thirty seconds.

He was tired of seeing the death screen so many times in one match. By then, he had seen it seven or eight times in four minutes and was slowly getting tired of it.

He just wanted to break free from the puppeteer's grasp.

He just wanted to get out of the lobby. He wanted to head to Crossroads, down the familiar concrete path back to Blackrock. He just wanted to put on a warm coat amidst the everlasting blizzard in his faction.

The blizzard gave him a warmth in his chest...a warm feeling that reminded him of home.

"One last minute..." Subspace thought. One more minute, and he could rest for another thirty seconds...until being pulled straight back into another nightmarish round, another round where he'd experience the constant and tedious cycle of spawning, being controlled, getting killed, spawning again...

He wished he could go home, back to Blackrock. He did not like it here.

As the round ended, Subspace got a glimpse of the results screen.

He was last. Again. With thirteen deaths, zero kills, and only two assists.

“Darn it! Why’d I even pick you? Your damage output is trash!”

Subspace could hear (Y/N) let out a string of profanities upon seeing another loss. Just as Subspave thought all was lost and he’d die from madness after all this, he heard Zuka announce something- something he had yearned to hear for the past thirty minutes.

“Phighters- I got a message from the developers. Server’s gonna shut down, maintenance is happening soon.”

Five seconds later, Subspace felt energy return to his joints as he stumbled onto the floor.

Subspace tried moving his arm, then went on to flexing his fingers. It worked.

He let out a sigh of relief. It was finally over.

One by one, other phighters around the lobby stumbled and toppled over as they regained energy in their joints as the players got kicked.

The puppeteers were gone.

Zuka gestured into his van.

“We’re going back to Crossroads. Hop in.”

As the familiar tower in Crossroads emerged in the distance, Subspace finally let his shoulders relax. He was closer to Crossroads, closer to his laboratory, closer to his home…

Subspace wouldn’t need to fight his beloved Biografts like he was forced to in phights. It always tore him apart to attack his creations, the very things he had worked so hard to perfect…the closest thing he had to a true companion.

But now, he could rest.

Other phighters lounged around in Crossroads. Rocket could be seen making small talk with Sword

Hyperlaser and Katana could be seen heading to the nearest bar.

All the phighters seemed to want to have a chat with someone else before heading back to their respective factions.

Instead, Subspace trudged down the path to Blackrock without saying a word, exhausted and irritated from everything that happened.

Biograft spotted this and immediately sprinted towards his creator.

“I just don’t get it!! Why me?? Why do I always seem to get the most talentless players?? I can see their stats and half the people who play me are newbies!!”

Biograft listened. That was his task, anyway- to identify the needs of his creator and adapt to them. And right now, Subspace needed a listening ear- someone who would listen to all his woes about the day.

“Why am I even doing this?? It’s been a week without seeing a player that knew their stuff!! Dear Illumina, WHY?!”

Biograft may have been a robot, but he was programmed to understand what his creator needed and how to respond.

If he needed food, Biograft could cook up a meal.

If he needed a certain tool, Biograft could bring Subspace his trusty toolbox.

But right now, all Subspace needed was some comfort.

The duo trod back to the familiar snowy landscape of Blackrock in silence. Biograft knew that his creator just wanted to go home. He didn’t have the energy for this.

Back in the lab, Biograft listened to Subspace.

The lab was Subspace’s haven, the only place where he felt comfortable enough to let loose.

Subspace spent so much time in the lab, more time than in his own house so much so that Biograft would often worry for its creator. Subspace would then reassure it, saying that he’s just doing what he enjoys. Never once would Biograft ever see Subspace at his workstation without his concentrated expression, only changing when Subspace chuckled softly every time a component worked as intended.

But today was different.

Subspace was resentful of the player, and back in his lab was where he finally let out all his pent-up rage.

Upon entering the lab, Subspace collapsed onto a nearby chair, groaning in annoyance.

“That little sh-!! I did what I could to accommodate his stupidity, but what did he do?? Curse me out, that’s what!!”

Subspace got up, pacing around and stomping on the ground to emphasise his point.

Biograft watched his creator. It could hear everything the player said, and despite being on the opposite team, it could almost feel a sense of empathy towards his creator, deep down in his processors.

“And do I have a damn choice as to whether or not I get controlled?? No!! This crap is all part of a VIDEO GAME, and I don’t have a say as to whether or not I participate!! Can’t I like, call in sick??”

Subspace picked up a screwdriver and was about to hurl it at the wall…but he paused, looked at the tool, and set it back down on his workbench.

He collapsed back into the seat, groaning in annoyance.

“…apologies, Biograft. It’s been a rough day…and I finally get to let loose.”

Understanding his situation, Biograft’s processors whirred to life, processing the new information. The soft hum of the processor was the only sound in the lab as Subspace lay on the chair.

As Biograft’s processors grew silent, it walked over and put an arm around its creator.

For once in a long time, Subspace felt some warmth.

And it wasn’t from his usual coat.

-

thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

if you do have feedback, please drop it in the comments so I can improve my writing for you guys! :D

#phighting! #phighting #phighting x reader #subspace phighting #biograft phighting #subspace tripmine #subspace x reader

[ironvy]

Vestiges Of You.

Aventurine x fem! reader; not proofread, this was supposed to be a 300 words drabble lmao?? wordcount; 804.

everything i feel returns to you somehow, consuming me to the core, i'll be gone by midnight; goodbye.

There is a bit of you at the beach.

Aventurine gazes whilst the sun gradually inches down, orange in hue, it mildly kisses the horizon; two souls intertwined. Standing on top of a building in the city, a March spring breeze wafts past him, and the smell of oleanders trails it.

The scene is familiar, to a distant one on the beach. The solitude, the oleanders you used to grow, the sun cozily inching down your wall, the ripples of the waves against the shore, the medley accompanying it, as you pluck the strings with a plectrum, pressing strings against frets with your opposite hand simultaneously.

Your black cat leaps on his lap, it purrs against his stomach, and he strokes it.

‘remember when we first met?’ you pause. ‘we had plenty to discuss. Now, only silence remains…’

‘you know,’ you continue. ‘I guess, the moral of time, is that… you never became jaded by my presence; our meaningless conversations, or this comfortable silence.’

Aventurine does not reply. He merely grabs your hand, and squeezes it reassuringly, pulls it towards his lips as he plants a kiss.

There is a bit of you in April.

Your window flung open, the breeze emerging in carries a scent of peach, a warm sun beams at your back, at your oil paint-stained white shirt. The neighbourhood is extremely quiet, everyone’s inside their home, with fans nudging the cool air at their faces.

‘don’t you feel like going back inside yet? It’s hot,’ Aventurine starts. He anticipates a response from an instance, but you appeared rather too resolute on your painting—it was of an orchard of apricot trees, the leaves and branches shimmering with heat-haze.

‘I don’t think so, I’ll finish this one first,’ you mutter, cautiously painting a cloud. ‘I love April. In it, my ideas are always inventive, sharp, and tender. Do you get it?’

Aventurine hums as he nods. His gaze wanders off toward the market nearby—a mother with brown sunglasses on exits with her young child, who’s wailing. ‘Icecream?’

‘Yeah, vanilla flavour please.’

There is a bit of you in black polished heels.

‘I’ve always loved the sound of heels against the flooring,’ you mutter, bending over as you tie the ankle straps of the heels—black, polished leather; a gift from Aventurine. When you’re done, you tap continually on the floor, and it sounds akin to an exaggerated film soundtrack. ‘it sounds like learning to walk away, from what was never mine to ever have…’

Aventurine raises a brow, ‘did you have a tough past?’

‘Partially, though what am I if not a little hardship? Which reminds me, you never told me much about your past…?’

He offers a half-hearted smile, as he averts his gaze. ‘…The heels suit you, are you sure they are your size?’ ( I apologize; I don’t want to bring it up, I don’t want you to pity me. )

‘Yeah…’ you half-heartedly mutter, removing the heels. ( do you not trust me? )

There is a bit of you in his muddy teacup.

‘Regrets,’ you mumble over the counter. Aventurine stares as you fiddle with your teaspoon—like lifting the world’s edge, like unravelling its threads, apathetically, perfunctorily. His teacup simply lies before him, long cold, and muddy-looking. ‘I have many… so do you.’

A train passes over the railings nearby, quick against the steel, unlike your stagnant manoeuvres, followed by a mysterious silence of what hangs in the atmosphere, and remains unspoken. ‘are you not exhausted of lying?’

‘I never lied to you about a single thing,’ he replies.

‘But you don’t trust me, with anything, at all— regardless of who is in your life, you still seem to have the same disgusting thoughts about yourself; it never stops, it never goes away. I wish I could…’ You place the teaspoon down, the tone of your voice gradually creaking. ‘Take away your blues. I have.. many selfless wishes for you. I wish you would take care of yourself, I wish you would cherish every instant of this ephemeral lifetime, I wish you would relinquish the past; that was then, this is now. Yet you’ve always been a bitter man, and it makes me bitter, too. I hope you will understand, that is all I have to say…’

Reality begins to melt away, in the darkness, akin to a candle’s wax, in the heat of a flame. Everything feels as if it occurred a long time ago, in a far-off world, out of reach. Or, is it occurring in the future, in an alternative far-off world?

( have you seen my lover? The one that owned the beach, April’s beauty, the black leather heels I purchased, my muddy teacup, my dreams, my heart? )

There is a bit of you in all he is.

ironvy, 2024. do not copy, share, repost, or re-upload my work on any website without prior consent.

#hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #aventurine #aventurine hsr

[emilybahu]

I love 9-1-1 so much!

I have fallen in love with tv shows before, watching episodes religiously as they aired weekly. 9-1-1 has been different for me though, it’s become more like an obsession. In some ways that’s bad, it’s consuming my mind a lot of times and it’s distracting me from other things I need to get done. However, really getting into the fandom of this show has also been wonderful for me, it’s made me so happy, actually getting involved with other fans and talking to people the last couple months has been so fun! You all are amazing, funny, talented people and I’m truly grateful that I’ve been able to interact with you!

Now, I’ve heard about some toxicity within the fandom, Buddie and BuckTommy shippers turning against each other and fighting about what’s best for the characters. (Which btw, isn’t really up to us anyway)

I personally haven’t seen a lot of that, who knows, maybe I’m just ignoring it because I don’t want to see it. Either way I always try to keep a very open and and neutral stance when it comes to shipping. I let myself enjoy the stories, the edits, the fan art, and the speculation. However, I also try to stay grounded in the reality of what’s happening in the movie/book/tv show.

When it comes to 9-1-1 right now, between Buddie and BuckTommy I’m not picking sides. I like both ships the same, and I don’t think that’s gonna change any time soon. I really, really enjoy both ships! (Plus the fan fiction for both are amazing, so I’m LIVING)

Buddie is part of the reason that I started watching in the first place, Buck and Eddie are my favorite characters. I love them both to death, and regardless of their relationship status they have something special, no one can deny that! Their friendship is beautiful and deep, they do truly love each other, they’re family, they will always be there for each other whether or not they end up in a romantic relationship. I’m honestly just happy to see them together in any capacity. And yes, I will happy, overjoyed even, if they decide to make Buddie cannon, but I’ll also be happy if their relationship remains as it is.

As far as Buck and Tommy go I was surprised when the kiss happened, but OH MY GOD… I was totally there for it! I’m actually really happy with this storyline so far, (even if the second hand embarrassment nearly killed me during the first date)I think that they’ll be great together, I really can’t wait to see them getting to know each other more! Wherever this goes, I’m here for it! I’m excited to see Buck explore his bisexuality with Tommy, and learn about himself through this relationship. I’m also excited to learn more about Tommy! And if they don’t end up being very long term, I really hope that they stay friends.

I’m really enjoying being into a ship that’s canon for once, it makes me really happy. I don’t think there’s ever been a ship (apart from these ones) that I’ve been into that have even had a remote chance of becoming cannon (Stucky… my first love!)

Anyway, I digress, the writers and the actors KNOW these characters, we know that if something felt off it the story, they’d want to do right by the characters. We know for a fact how much Oliver and Ryan love Buck and Eddie, and if it feels right and true to them Buddie will happen. If it doesn’t feel right to put them in a romantic relationship, to me, it’s fine because regardless we have these two men with an absolutely beautiful and meaningful friendship, and I’m always here for that!

All of this to say, all this fighting about “who’s right for who” isn’t doing anyone any good. I mean we’re all in this fandom because we love this show RIGHT!? Being on platforms like this is meant to bring us TOGETHER!

SO WHY THE HELL ARE SOME OF US TRYING TO RIP EACH OTHER APART BECAUSE WE HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS ON A DAMN SHIP!?

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions after all… so yeah, share your opinion, just don’t be rude about it. Putting someone down because they disagree with you doesn’t make you right… it just makes you mean. It scares people away, maybe makes them feel like they’re not safe in this community. I’ve seen it a couple times too, with myself and others, being afraid to make a post because of the possibility of hate.

In my experience you’re meant to feel safe in a fandom, in a community because you’re sharing your love for something with others who love it just as much as you do! We should love each other like we love these characters!

To conclude, all I need is for our boys to be happy, that’s really all we should care about here anyway. It shouldn’t necessarily matter who’s dating who, as long as they’re HAPPY! I’m really just along for the ride, I’m here for whatever they decide to do with Buddie and/or BuckTommy in the future. Buck and Eddie are my loves, and we barely know Tommy, but I’m starting to like him already, as long as they’re happy, I am too!

Thank you for reading my TedTalk…

Sorry if it doesn’t sound completely coherent, stringing words together isn’t always my strong suit…🫠

#911 abc #9-1-1 #buddie #bucktommy #tevan #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #time to rant #buck and eddie #I really love this show

[vulpixisananimal]

Defender

(A house for Defenders. Or a castle. Or maybe just a place. Regardless that's where they were now. You were leading the charge, as usual. Followed by Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonnie, and Nille. It was like that old routine, just follow Siffrin. It was... comforting? You weren't really sure.)

(The Defenders, as Isabeau had once told you, had a house of their own. All about protecting the weak and looking over the city and those in it. It looked welcoming, people coming in and out, bringing in snacks, running around, chatting. If you had time, you'd ask what was making the place so busy.)

(Why do I need to be the one in charge here?)

(I'm pretty tired, plus, you did good at guiding them before.)

(But-)

(You're their guiding star~)

(You groan internally. That was horrible.)

(You step into the Defender place. It looked grand and busy. It was built like a public place. So many smiling faces around, it would have made you relaxed.)

(You glance at your party. They all looked so tense.)

"Isabeau?!?"

(The stranger went right up to Isabeau like they were old friends.) "Isa!! It's been, what, almost a year??"

(Isabeau hesitated.) "... Yeah!! Sorry I was just surprised to uh, see you!"

"Care to introduce us, Isabeau?" (Odile and the others were coming around to meet the new face.)

"Oh!! Right!! This is uh, Ramos! We hung out a lot before I left." (Isabeau mentioned each of you all in turn.) "Odile, Bonnie, Nille, Mirabelle and Siffrin! We're all traveling together!"

"Good to see you again Mirabelle!" (They waved, all chipper and smiling.) "I'm glad that I can see you again, not that I doubted you or 'beau."

"O-oh! Uh, thank you!!" (Mirabelle replied. Maybe telling them all that something bad happened here wasn't a good idea.)

"Are you guys just coming to visit? Or ya need a hand?"

"Someone grabbed Bonnie in broad daylight at the market yesterday. (Odile said, voice steady. At least she could keep a straight face here.)

"What!?!" (Ramos scowled at that.) "In the middle of the busiest place in town! Dunno if that's gutsy or stupid."

"I'd say lucky, if I caught em I'd knock their teeth out!" (Nille continued.) "If it wasn't for Mirabelle I woulda lost em."

"Oh Change." (Ramos shook their head.) "Well tell ya what. There's a few people who can help with that, I'll lead you there! Plus I gotta catch up with my buddy."

(Joke time.)

"Oh, do you keep flowers?"

(Ramos turns to you.) "Flowers?"

"'Cause you have a budding friendship."

(There were a mix of groans and laughs from your family and Ramos. Who moved towards you and was about to put an arm around you.)

(But stopped.)

(. . ?)

"Hey let's get going! The sun isn't waiting for us after all." (Said ramos, turning to lead you all.)

(Ramos and Isabeau were leading the group, chatting and catching up. You were keeping step with them, glancing around the halls and rooms they passed. It all seemed so... Normal.)

(You glance back, Mirabelle was biting her nails (stopping as you give her a look) Odile looked calm and analytical as always, Nille and Bonnie were chatting. Bonnie sniffed the air.)

"Do you keep plants here?"

"Huh? This isn't another joke, is it?" (Ramos replied.)

"Wait! Wasn't there that guy who was keeping roses? It could be that! What was his name..." (Isabeau pondered.)

(... Wait.)

"What's it smell like?" (You ask)

"Huh?" (Bonnie glanced up at you.) "Oh, mint. A neighbor used to have it all over their garden, I'd smell it all the time."

"Oh no!" (Mira exclaimed.) "Mint is so hard to remove, a friend of mine at the House tried using Craft to get rid of it but that didn't even work!"

"Those poor roses..." (Ramos mused.) "He has been stressed lately, maybe that's why."

"Oh!! Maybe I could try, helping with that then?"

"Sure!" (Ramos walked over to Mirabelle and put a hand on her shoulder, and pointed down a hall.) "Should be down there, not hard to miss."

"I'm coming too!!!" (Bonnie ran after Mirabelle, Nille following right behind yelling at them to slow down.)

(Your hand twitches, about to protest but... They were already off, Isabeau catches your look, and smiles at you as if to say "they'll be okay." You hope so.)

"Not far now." (Ramos continued.) "Sorry this place can be a maze."

"I'm used to mazes." (You reply. Odile snorts at that.)

"Has Jouvente had a history of kidnappers?" (Odile asks.)

"Nope! It's supposed to be real safe here." (Another turn.) "Dunno why someone would try to grab a kid."

"Hmm." (You knew that look. If Odile had THAT look then something was up.)

(Another turn.)

"Oh don't worry M'dame, Ramos has always been able to help!" (Isabeau looked back and smiled at you.) "They helped me a lot with my defenders exams! It was a real struggle."

(... What?)

(Another turn.)

"Are the Defender exams particularly tough?" (Odile asked, ever curious.)

"Oh yeah!! But thanks to Ramos I didn't break a sweat-"

(You stop walking.)

(How many loops had you and Siffrin talked to him? How many lines of his has you memorized. You probably knew his history better than he did.)

(Then why was he getting it wrong?)

"You never mentioned Ramos before, Isabeau."

(He tilted his head.) "I haven't?"

(No. You haven't. Over hundreds of loops, of hundreds of variations. You never once heard that name. But you knew Isabeau asked a favor tree to ace his exams. You knew he studied. You knew he found it easy and didn't need help.)

(What's that smell?)

"You have not, no." (Odile adds.) "And I must ask, if Jouvente is safe, how'd you get that bandage, Ramos?"

(You look at the Defender. You knew their look too.)

(Fear. Fear about a flubbed line. Fear about a slipping mask.)

"Siffrin! M'dame! Please there's no need for any of that-"

(Odile pushes past Isabeau and grabs Ramos' arm.) "What's going on? I don't want to hurt you, Ramos, but someone tried hurting Bonnie."

(What. That. SMELL.)

"M-miss Odile please! I just want to figure this out and, and I want to help!"

(She looks at him for a moment, then stumbles back.)

(Ramos continued.) "If you'd just, just help me out here I'm sure we can-"

"Siffrin?" (Odile glances at you. Her face, it's, she looks panicked. Confused.)

(You look between her, Isabeau, and Ramos. What was going on? What was that smell? What weren't they telling you? Odile put a hand to her head. Isabeau took a step to her to help.)

(You could see Ramos trying to get back into character.)

(. . . Time to play your own role then. You draw your dagger.)

"!!!!!"

(You take a step towards Ramos and speak.) "Tell me the truth."

"I, I-I am I promise I am! I don't know why I'd ever lie to you!"

(Step.) "Liar liar pants a'fire~"

"Siffrin they're, I don't think they're a threat." (Odile mumbled.)

"They're my friend Sif!! Leave them alone!!!" (Isabeau added.)

(Step.)

"I don't want to fight you, but, but I will! I will defend myself!!"

(Step.) "I don't want to hurt you either, Ramos~" (You twirl your knife.) "But I don't know if I can hold myself back~"

(Loop, you're scary.)

"Siffrin?!?!" (Isabeau stood up and stepped towards you.) "What's gotten into you?!?"

(Running out of time.)

(You breathe in, and out. Dash towards Ramos and swipe at their kerchief.)

(. . . You were right.)

"Siffrin! That's enough!" (Isabeau got between you and Ramos, but the star pendant was there for all to see. Why was Isabeau being so strange! Couldn't he see that's who grabbed Bonnie?!?)

"That's enough?!? 'Beau please, you can see they're wearing that blinding pendant!" (You were loosing patience.)

"That's just fashion! How do you know it's connected to anything!"

"It's not just fashion!" (You were yelling.) "It's a star! And it-"

"Stop making excuses!! You're just being selfish!"

(. . . Selfish?)

"You've been nothing but rude to me and my friends! You always have been!"

(What. No that, that's not-)

(Something's wrong, this isn't right!)

"I should never have trusted you."

(You feel a tug-)

(. . .)

(He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it. he didn't mean it he didn't mean it he didn't mean it he didn't mean it he didn't mean it.)

(He. Didn't. Mean. It.)

(. . . He didn't. . .)

(. . . Please. . .)

#smile #if you have a feeling that something is just off in this chapter #that's intentional #isat #in stars and time #isat art #isat fanart #siffrin system au #art #sifstem #isat siffrin #au #isat odile #oc #isat oc #isat Bonnie #isat Mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat loop #isat nille #isat spoilers #hehehehe

[fluentmoviequoter]

Constant Faith and the Life it Brings

Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader

Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.

Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.

When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.

As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.

Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.

“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”

“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”

“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”

You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”

“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”

You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.

“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”

Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.

“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.

“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”

Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.

The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.

“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”

“But?” Tim presses kindly.

“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”

“Do more how?”

You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.

“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”

Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.

“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”

You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.

“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”

You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.

“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.

You smile and chuckle as you nod.

“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”

You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”

Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.

“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.

Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.

“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.

His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.

“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”

Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.

“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”

“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”

“You told me. That’s a start, right?”

You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.

“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”

Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.

“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.

“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”

#hanna writes✯ #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #christianity

[ceasarslegion]

The DNI that made you do math to use it?? 👀👀👀

Youre the first one who asked, so you get the answer.

This person was one of the other two weirdos from the Half Life RP discord server i teased at in this post earlier this week:

Once again, i want to disclaimer that this is not a callout post, I will not be giving any details that could be used to identify this person, and I will not be posting screenshots this time because they are still active on tumblr afaik. I dont want this to be used to bully anybody, this is just meant to be my personal experience with my specific side of this story. You can DM me directly or throw in a private answer request in an ask if you want screenshots, but only people i already know and trust not to cyberbully them will get a direct link to the DNI. The person in the story I linked is no longer active anywhere online, which is why I provided screenshots in that story.

And before i lay out the DNI details, I just want to say... there is a FINE LINE between requesting accommodations for a mental illness and infantilizing yourself. I can handle the former just fine, I will do all I can to help, but if you're a grown-ass adult babying yourself and then going "waa im autistic i cant do anything" i have ZERO tolerance for that. Buddy, I'm autistic, and I'm telling you to grow the fuck up.

Yeah, this person was one of those. They were over 18, and had public breakdowns about how everything was just soooo hard for them and everybody else was being problematic and ableist for *checks notes* asking them to wait in a line that was a little long for a new phone plan. Real example, they were screaming and crying in the vent channel because the line at a verizon store was a little long, and implying their father was ableist for asking them to wait for 20 minutes. Buddy, there are some things you JUST need to deal with in the real world regardless of whatever mental soup you have going on. If your autism is that bad, the solution is looking into things like noise canceling headphones, sunglasses, etc. But the world will not stop having lines that you just need to wait in sometimes because you dont like them.

I know that sounds harsh, but they werent exactly the type of person im willing to give the benefit of the doubt to. The majority of their problems were entirely their own fault, and they were clearly enabling and feeding the harder parts of their autism rather than doing anything in the way of learning to cope with it. I am terrified of spiders, like full on panic-inducing terrified of them, but I throw hands at them instead of running or freezing up. One time, I posted a photo of this gigantic-ass spider that was in my dorm room after I screamed and squashed it with my heavy duty winter outdoor patrol boots (im a security guard, not a cop, before anyone draws the wrong conclusion from that), and they proceeded to vague about me IN THE SAME SERVER about how problematic and insensitive i am for triggering their arachnophobia. My brother in christ when did you ever say you were triggered by spiders? Do you expect me to read your fucking mind?

Another instance was when they asked for the role to access the nsfw channel. They were over 18, so it was granted. They then got mad at us whenever we got horny on main in the sex channel because they were only there for the dirty jokes (that were posted in the main server anyway because none of us consider JOKES to be inappropriate). They literally asked for the sex channel role and then claimed we were being problematic because we talked about sex in the sex channel when they were uncomfortable with sex. And they had borderline puritan attitudes around sex. They acted like sex was icky and gross and should never be discussed around them lest it corrupt their pure innocent soul. Yeah thats your own fault chief, grow the fuck up.

Some lightning round stories: they broke up with their boyfriend purely because he liked "irredeemable media" and when said boyfriend said they were being a total dick for that, they proceeded to whine and cry that he was actually being abusive and terrible for being upset that he was dumped over the fucking movies he liked of all things. They once sat outside their little siblings recital and complained that their parents were problematic for not charging their switch enough because it died at the same recital they couldnt be assed to sit in for because "waaaa its too boring and thats bad for my autism." Didnt even TRY, just sat outside the door playing switch and then complained that their parents didnt charge their switch enough. Can you not plug something into a wall your damn self.

Needless to say, i didnt like them very much. I can handle legitimate accommodations, but they were just so self-infantilising that they gave the rest of us a bad name. Your autism is not an excuse to act like a fucking baby. You are not made of porcelain, you will not shatter at the slightest touch, being uncomfortable is a part of life youre going to have to deal with. Its not your autism at this point, youre a grown-ass adult who throws a tantrum when the line is a little long. GROW. UP.

Now that that rants over, lets get into what the DNI on their blog was like, because this behavior from them that I just outlined really contextualizes it.

Their DNI had two tiers. The first was "red flags," which meant that if you met any one of them you apparently werent allowed to interact. Of this included your typical nazis, pedophiles, terfs, and... beastars fans. No word of a lie. Being a fan of beastars was apparently just as bad as being a nazi. What did my boy legosi do to you? (Side note: i am forever enamored with how these people seem to think that theres people out there who both self-identify as nazis and would respect a DNI. I didnt even respect that DNI. I didnt interact with them because i thought they were a terrible person, but i did not take that DNI seriously. I was openly posting about beastars in the same server LMAO) and it wasn't just beastars, there was a ton of media that i didnt even know had discourse around them that they listed as red flags if you ever touched. Amazing.

The second tier was "yellow flags" which meant that you werent allowed to interact if you met any 3 or more of them. Here was mostly media, including homestuck fans, neil gaiman fans (WHAT DID NEIL DO TO YOU), and harry potter iirc. (WHY DID YOU SINGLE OUT BEASTARS?? WHAT DID MY BOY LEGOSI DO TO YOU) my favourite part of this though, was that republicans were listed under yellow flags. Apparently its worse to be a beastars fan than a republican. We arent gonna fucking make it

#ramblings

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Meg Ryan Dedicating Her New Movie To Nora 🙌

#im not crying you are #sobbing #david duchovny #meg ryan #nora ephron is smiling down #i love her #i cant wait to see this movie #rom com #romantic comedy #movie #movies #filmedit #filmedits #what happens later #the reviews are really bad for this movie though #so im gonna check it out when they put it online for free haha #i was going to do that regardless but yeah

[tactfullyinappropriate]

It's like we all collectively forgot as a society that friendship and just connection in general takes effort. Even if you meet someone you immediately click with, it takes hanging out about 20 times (!) to become friends. And guess what, some of those 20 meetings might be awkward or unimpressive.

We all want to reap the benefits (having a friend circle, having a partner, getting married) without doing the work (going to events, interacting with people, learning to handle conflict maturely, dating). Myself included. If I could, I'd never leave the house or go on another mediocre date again... except, that's part of the process.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, the cure to the loneliness epidemic is touching some grass and building tolerance for tedious in-person interactions.

#yeah I did put on makeup just to go out with someone who doesn't know how to ask interesting questions #I'll do it again just to get to that special person #tagging this lesbian cause that's who my blog is for #but this is true regardless of sexuality #lesbian #dyke #sapphic #wlw #dykeposting #femme4butch #femme #femme lesbian #butch4femme #butch #butch lesbian

[starwikia]

suicide cw

look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am. 

ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.

this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.

He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!

you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.

it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions. 

what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT. 

am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!

yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).

The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.

#warning: do not read this post if you want me to be nice to james somerton. i am extremely mean in this post. #before anyone accuses me of shit i legit never contacted him myself or anyone involved. i am someone who witnessed this behavior repeatedly #again. i hope hes alive and well. the fact is him lying about this WOULD BE THE IDEAL SITUATION. BC NO ONE SHOULD GO THROUGH THAT. but. #he HAS to forever be the victim in his eyes. attempting doesnt automatically mean youre free of sin. #its just terrible to see that regardless whether or not he did do it #its very clear his attempts to run away from his consequences are working on some people #we need to acknowledge that if your shitty ex friend can weaponize a threat to kill themselves #so can this internet person after being called out for horrendous shit #like what was the alterative? what were people supposed to fucking do? be nice about it? #yeah as if poc and trans women arent historically given shit for being 'too mean' about wanting justice. #this isnt just the plagiarism this is the fact a white dude has been parading himself as THE speaker for the gays(tm) but has been using hi #gayness to shield himself from his misogyny racism transphobia and antisemitism #its very clear regardless this means that ppl r going to side with him and then give him benefit of doubt #if you cant handle the heat stay out of the fucking kitchen dude. this is the consequences of your fucking actions. #hes a disgusting person who cant handle being told no so hes going to drag everyone down with him #like. idk this entire situation is frustrating to me. #its also frustrating ppl trying to be moral abt it like 'see! i knew this was bad all along!' no you didnt. shut it. #for the record im like mainly talking abt twit watching those spineless uwu cutesy ppl basically saying hes done noting wrong #oh and also alt righters who are clearly weaponinizing this where u know they wouldnt give a shit if a right ytber did this. #james somerton #idk might delete this later its just. ugh...