#in fact i might even say it's a good idea

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]

first chapter >> last chapter

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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.

All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.

John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 

“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 

You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 

“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”

His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 

Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 

“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 

“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 

It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 

You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.

“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”

You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 

Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 

“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”

“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”

“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”

“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 

The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 

He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 

That gets you to zip your lips. 

When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 

A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 

He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 

John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 

Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 

Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 

It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 

“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 

His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.

“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”

“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 

“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 

John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 

And then he’s on you.

He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 

You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 

“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 

“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 

John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  

You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 

“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.

“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”

He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 

The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 

It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 

“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”

You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 

“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 

“I—I’ll—”

“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”

“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”

At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 

Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 

Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 

You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 

“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 

You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 

The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 

He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.

Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 

Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 

It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 

It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 

From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 

When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 

He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 

You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 

When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 

Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 

Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 

Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 

The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  

The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 

Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 

The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 

The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 

When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 

You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 

She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”

You frown. “Gaz?”

“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”

“Way back when?”

“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”

You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”

The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 

The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 

“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.

Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”

“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”

You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”

She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 

“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”

Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 

You nod instead of answering. 

“Did you give it to him?” she asks.

“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 

“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”

Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 

“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 

Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 

“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 

It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 

You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 

When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 

If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 

It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 

If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 

You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 

It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 

It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.

“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 

He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 

You understand. It sits under your skin too. 

"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."

Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.

And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #captain john price

[morgana-larkin]

Alright peeps! So I took a look at the poll and saw that most of you wanted the second part of 'Don't Call Me That' the most so here it is! There's everything in this one, heartbreak, angst, smut and fluff. A bit of a rollercoaster so good luck!

On another note: I'm working on part 4 of 'Mine' as that was the second most voted on. I also realise the poll is still open for another 4 hours but idc, you can still vote though!

Don't Call Me That - Part 2

Warnings: Smut, angst, lots of fluff (Not in that specific order lol), happy ending

Words: 4.2k

Melissa didn’t get any sleep last night. Everytime she closed her eyes, all she imagined was you kissing her, and nothing was on her mind except the thought of you saying you love her. You still love her, even after her breaking up with you.

Melissa walked into Abbott a little earlier, she needed extra caffeine considering she got 0 hours of sleep last night. She barely survived the day, not only from lack of sleep, but seeing you multiple times, and everytime all she thinks about is your lips on hers.

The next day she barely got any sleep, about 2 hours. The next day was the same. She thought that at least it was Friday and she could sleep in on Saturday. On Friday, everyone can clearly see the bags under her eyes as they’ve darkened over the week, and the way she can barely stay awake. Melissa thinks that it’s good her students have a test to do today and a book report coming up, and a couple other things she can get them to do instead of teaching.

At the end of the day, you go to walk to your car and you pass by Melissa’s classroom and you can see her asleep at her desk. You walk in and you see there’s no one else there, so you walk over to her and shake her a bit. “Melissa?” you say and she groans but doesn’t wake. “Melissa!” You just about yell and she opens her eyes but doesn’t move her head. You kneel down to her level and look at her. “Hey, saw you sleeping, you ok?” you ask her and she looks at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Am I dreaming?” she asks you and you tilt your head.

“What makes you think you’re dreaming?” you ask her.

“Because you’re here, you wouldn’t talk to me otherwise. If I was awake then you would just avoid me because I’m an idiot.” she says and you look down and sigh.

“Ok, come on. I’ll drive you home and then you can continue dreaming ok?” you tell her and help guide her up from her chair. You take her purse with you and help guide her to your car, as well as buckle herself in as she didn’t have the strength to do it herself. “Why have you been so tired this week?” You ask as you get in the driver’s seat and start the car.

“Because I’m being haunted by my stupidity.” She says and you snort, you then back out of the parking spot and pull out of the parking lot.

“What stupidity have you done?” You ask her.

“Breaking up with my girlfriend, Y/n.” She tells you and you then realise she has no idea where she is and might still think she’s dreaming. You know you probably shouldn’t but this might be your chance to figure out what’s really going on with her.

“Why was that a stupid decision?”

“Because I still love her so much. All I think about when I try to sleep is her kissing me or her saying she loves me. I can’t do this anymore, I need her.” She says and a few tears slip. “I’ve barely slept these past 4 days, I probably got no more than 8 hours of sleep combined. I’ve barely eaten as well. I broke up with her 3 months ago and I was still able to sleep and eat, I don’t know what changed.” She says and you think about it, you should probably help her out.

“Do you feel guilty all of a sudden?” And she lets out an airy laugh.

“I’ve felt guilty ever since I thought I should break up with her?”

“Ok, so not that then. What about the fact that she told you she loves you?” You ask her and she doesn’t say anything. “Maybe you thought her feelings for you would disappear when you broke up with her cause you thought that she would just find someone else?” You tell her and she still doesn’t say anything. You thought maybe she fell asleep so you glance over at her and she’s still awake. “Melissa?” You say and she looks up at you. “Did you really break up with me because you thought I should be with someone else?” You ask her and she sighs.

“Ya.” she says and takes a deep breath. “I was holding you back from everything you’ve wanted so I let you go so I wouldn’t be in the way because I love you and I want you to be happy, even if I had to watch someone else make you happy and give you what you want.” she tells you and her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep.

The rest of the car ride, you think about what she said. You’re honestly surprised by what she said. She thought she was doing something selfless for you, but instead just ended up hurting you both, she never meant to hurt you so much. And now you see the toll it’s taken on her to stick to her decision to try and make you happy. She’s willing to sacrifice her happiness for yours, you never thought anyone would do that for you.

As soon as you pull into her driveway, you gently wake her up. “Come on Melissa, you’re home, we should gotta get you to your bed and you can sleep comfortably, ok?” You tell her and she nods. She unbuckles herself but can’t open the door fully so you do that for her. You unlock her door with her key and you help bring her inside. You set her keys and purse at the door and you close and lock her door while she attempts to take her shoes off. You end up helping her with her shoes when she falls down and you help her back up and to her room. She falls on the bed when you get there and then you tuck her in, you go to leave after but she grabs your arm and you turn to face her.

“Will you stay with me?” She asks softly and you sigh.

“Ok, but only until you fall asleep.” You tell her and she nods. You get on the bed but stay on the covers instead of under and she wraps an arm around you. You admit that you do miss this and you miss her and her craziness. You turn around to face her and she’s still awake and looking at you.

“I do want you back, y/n.” She tells you and strokes your hair.

“What’s stopping you?” You ask her and she yawns and is slowly closing her eyes.

“The fact that you won’t be happy with me.” She says and falls asleep. You stay looking at her stunned and go over everything she’s told you, thinking that you weren’t you or she was dreaming. You then slowly crawl out from her hold on you and you replace it with a pillow so she doesn’t wake up.

A few hours later Melissa wakes up. She opens her eyes and realises she’s in her bed and has no idea what happened this week that well as she’s been so tired that the whole week has been a blur. She looks at her phone and sees that it’s 5:43pm and it’s Friday. She gets out of bed and hears some noises downstairs, she then grabs her bat and carefully goes downstairs. She gets to the middle of the stair when she sees you on the couch watching tv and she tilts her head and stares for a few seconds. She then continues down the stairs and you look over at her and chuckle.

“Were you planning on hitting me with a bat? You were friendlier when you were falling in and out of consciousness.” You tease her and she looks confused. “Do you remember anything from the end of the day to how you got home?” You ask her and she stares at you then shakes her head. “I found you asleep at your desk and then I drove you home. If you want I can drive you to the school parking lot to get your car and then go home.” You tell her, you don’t want to scare her if what she said while on the verge of sleep was true.

“You drove me home?” She tells you and you nod. “W-why?”

“Because I want to make sure you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel or stay at school overnight.” You simply say. “I bet you’re hungry since you also haven’t been eating, so I made you some mac n’ cheese.” You tell her and you go and get it.

“How do you know I haven’t been eating?” She asks when you reappear with a bowl.

“Cause you told me.” You tell her when you hand it to her and sit back on the couch. “Come sit.” You say as you pat the couch cushion.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone that.” She tells you as she obeys and goes to sit beside you on the couch.

“Wow you really don’t remember anything you told me.” You say and she freezes as she was about to take a bite.

“What do you mean?” She asks and takes a bite of the food.

“I mean we had a whole conversation while you kept falling asleep. In your classroom, my car and here, at your house.”

“What did I tell you?” She asks and prepares for the worst.

“Now I don’t want you to get freaked out ok? Cause you had no idea where you were or who I really was.” You tell her and that makes her feel worse.

“Y/n. What did I tell you.”

“You told me that you still love and miss me and you want me back.” You say and her eyes go wide. “You also told me the whole reason you let me go.” You add and she drops her fork. “And why you haven’t been sleeping, and you confessed that you’ve also barely ate in the past 4 days.” You finish and she’s just staring at you. After about 10 seconds she gets up and walks to the kitchen with her mac n’ cheese and you follow after her. She puts the bowl on the counter without much thought and she puts her hands in her hair. “Melissa?” You say to get her attention and she turns around looking scared and concerned. “What’s going on with you?”

“With me? It’s the fact that you weren’t supposed to know anything that I told you.” She tells you and she’s breathing hard like she’s on the verge of either a breakdown or lots of tears.

“Why? Because I’m just supposed to be happy with someone else as you suffer?” You tell her.

“YES!” She shouts and then looks surprised when she catches up with what you told her and what she confessed. “Since I already told you then I might as well say it. All those things that you want, you won’t get with me. But you will with someone else, someone else who wants to get married, have a family with you, wants to go out and be young and stupid with you. I don’t want those things anymore, and yes I do love you very much and do want you back. But I’m willing to put aside my happiness, if it means you get everything you want.” She tells you and you burst into tears, she immediately wraps her arms around you and hugs you. Your knees buckle and she guides you both to the floor gently and she keeps her arms around you the whole time. When you get to the floor, you place your head on her chest and she brings a hand to your head and strokes it soothingly.

You slow your crying down and sniffle a few times before you speak. “I don’t deserve you. You’re willing to give me everything at the expense of your own happiness. I really don’t deserve you.” You tell her.

“No, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You have been the bestest friend to me for 2 years before we got together, and after we got together you have shown me the best of love and care that I could ever ask for.” She tells you, and you look up at her and immediately kiss her. She automatically kisses you back before she has time to think. Once her brain catches up to what she’s doing, she doesn’t have the willpower to pull away, she used it all trying to stay away from you. Before she can register what she’s doing, she leans forward, bringing you back until you hit the floor of the kitchen. You make out on the kitchen floor for a good minute until you both pull away for air and you look at each other. Melissa suddenly is aware of what she did and she gets up before you could stop her and she scurries to the living room, you run after her.

“Melissa, would you stop running away from me!” You tell her and she’s turned away from you with her head down.

“You should leave y/n.” Is all she says and you walk up to her and spin her around.

“If you want me to leave then tell me while looking at me.” You say and she raises her eyes to your face and she’s crying.

“I can’t.” She says and you put your hands on her cheeks and wipe the tears away.

“Melissa, I want to be with you. If being with you means that I don’t get married, have kids or go to the bar every now and then with you then so be it. Because I’m only wanting to marry the right person, and that person is you. So if I’m with you or not, I’m not getting married. I don’t need kids to feel fulfilled, or to be able to say I have a family. I mean we can always get a pet like a dog, but you’re all the family I need. And I can go to the bars with my friends and be young and stupid with them from time to time if I really want.” You tell her and she starts crying even more.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything just to be with me.”

“Melissa, it’s not a sacrifice if what I’m getting is a life with you.” You tell her and you kiss her. Melissa immediately pulls back and looks at you, her hands on your head.

“Are you sure? You have to be 100% sure y/n.” She tells you and you think it over for all of 2 seconds and you nod your head.

“I’m 100% sure, I want to be with you Melissa.” You tell her and she smiles.

“I want to be with you too.” She says and this time she goes to kiss you. The kiss deepens and you start putting your hands all over her and you think you want to touch her skin and she’s wearing too much clothes, so you put your hands under her shirt. Melissa immediately pulls her shirt off so you can touch her and you unclip her bra and take it off. She’s always been the dominant one but at this moment, all you want to do is kiss her all over, so you walk forward until her back hits a wall and you go down to her neck and kiss and suck all over and she’s gasping under you. You then travel down to her chest and leave kisses all over until you attach your mouth to her nipples and start to suck and lick them. 

She’s bucking her hips under you and you know she’s not far away from pulling all her clothes off herself and guiding you inside of her. You’re working on her second nipple when she pushes you off and guides you to your knees. You go immediately into submissive like always and you pull her pants and underwear off. Melissa leans back against the wall and spreads her legs a little further so you can put your mouth there.

You attach your mouth to her clit and she starts bucking her hips right away and you pin her to the wall. Her hands go to your hair and she’s gasping and moaning at your touch. “Oh god, Y/n, that feels so good baby.” She says and when you know she’s getting close, you pull away and stand up. You push your body into hers and immediately insert two fingers in her and put your thumb on her clit. “God Y/N, I missed you so much.” She says and kisses you. She’s so close as she starts shaking but she doesn’t pull away from your lips like she usually does, you aren’t complaining though, you missed her as well and you’re enjoying kissing her again.

She comes not long after she starts shaking but you don’t stop, you keep fingering her and circling her clit and she lets out a high pitched gasp. “Oh god baby, yes, omg, don’t stop.” She says as she pulls away from your lips and gives into the over sensitivity.

She comes again not too long after the first and then you withdraw your fingers and put them in your mouth to lick them. She looks at you as you lick your fingers and you moan and that’s when she takes action. She picks you up and brings you to the couch, you’re so glad that she decided to remove the plastic as this wouldn’t be comfortable. She put you so you’re sitting in the middle with your back resting on the back of the couch. She starts kissing and sucking your neck and pulls your shirt off. She unclips your bra and yanks it off  right after then immediately brings her mouth to a nipple. You’re moaning and gasping under her and she smiles as she’s so happy that she’s back with you, she’s fully aware of how lucky she is right now and she won’t take it for granted. She takes more time on your nipples then she usually does and your patience is running thin as you’re dripping wet and you have a strong ache between your legs. 

“Melissa, please, I need you inside of me, please.” You tell her and she pulls back from your chest and smiles at you. She gives a quick kiss on your lips then leaves a trail of kisses from your chest all the way to the top of your pants. She quickly removes your pants and underwear, spreads your legs, leaves a few kisses on each thigh and then attaches her mouth to your entrance. You gasp as soon as her hot wet tongue is where you need her the most and she starts moving her tongue all over your entrance before entering her tongue in you. You moan as she starts sliding her tongue in and out of you and you're holding onto her hair for dear life. You start grinding into her mouth to try and get more friction so you can come and for once she lets you keep doing it, normally she would pin you down when you start grinding. Even in the middle of amazing pleasure, that fact is not lost on you, you notice it immediately then start to think of everything else she’s done differently. 

She kept kissing you when she was about to come and even when she came, when she usually pulls away as you love to hear her when she comes. She let you keep fingering her after she came and it seemed like she needed it as well, she only lets you make her come once as she usually ends up grinding your thigh when fingering you as she loves to watch you and it turns her on. She spent more time on your nipples then she usually does, to the point that you begged her to continue, and now letting you grind against her mouth. You put it all together and came to the conclusion, she’s letting you do whatever you want and making sure you feel good as she feels guilty. You reluctantly pull her mouth away and she looks at you confused,

“What is it baby?” She asks and her lips and chin is covered in your juices.

“Stop doing things differently, you don’t have to feel guilty ok. I feel really special about why you did what you did. No one has ever been willing to sacrifice their own happiness for mine.” You tell her and she smiles shyly.

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.” She tells you and you lean in closer to her.

“Then stop fucking me differently and start being yourself again.” You tell her and something flickers in her eyes before she pushes your head back to lean on the back of the couch then dives down to your clit and starts licking and sucking on it. Your fingers are still in her hair and you start grinding against her again, but this time she does pin your hips down. Then she does something she’s never done before, she snakes her hands around your hips and hooks her hands on your ass then pulls you up a bit and that gives her a perfect angle with your clit and you gasp her name out as you come.

She then immediately comes up and positions herself so her clit is on your thigh and she slides a finger in you and you moan as she starts sliding it in and out of you slowly. She then adds two more fingers and starts going faster while her thumb is on your clit and she brings her mouth near your ear.

“Unfortunately the strap is upstairs and I don’t have the patience to go get it, so we’ll have to make do with my fingers.” she says then adds a fourth and you cry out.

“OH MY GOD!!” You cry out as she fills you up with her fingers then her mouth goes to your neck and so much pleasure is coursing through you right now and you feel like moving but her grinding on your thigh is preventing you from doing that. So you do something else that will help stabilise you, you put your hands on her boobs and squeeze them. You don’t feel like that’s enough so you wrap an arm around her back and pull her into you more.

“Ooo” She says as she’s caught off guard by your actions. You come again about 5 seconds later and she doesn’t stop, she just keeps going until you come again and again and then you pull her away.

“Melissa, I can’t take anymore.” You tell her and she nods and gently pulls each finger out at a time. 

“Sorry I got lost in the moment.” She tells you and you smile but your body is shaking from the amount of times you came. She notices and then goes to your side and brings you both to lay down while she cuddles you to give your body the chance to calm down. You turn around in her arms then nuzzle your head on her neck and chest and she holds you tighter. “It’s ok baby, I got you, and I don’t plan on going anywhere again.” She tells you and you only nod as you’re falling asleep. She notices that you fell asleep and she gently strokes your hair. “I promise I won’t leave you again.” She whispers to you. “I won’t make that mistake again.” She says and presses a kiss to your forehead.

*3 years later*

You and Melissa are both standing in front of the house as you unlock it then Melissa grabs your waist before you walk in and she pushes the door open.

“What are you doing Mel?” You ask her as you’re smiling at her and she smiles at you.

“Well shouldn’t I carry my bride across the threshold?” She asks you and then picks you up bridal style and you let out a small squeal and then she carries you inside then gently puts you down. She wraps her arms around your waist and you lean into her touch and she puts lays her chin on your shoulder. You both then hold out your left hands and smile at the ring on both your third finger.

Melissa kisses your neck and then your puppy comes running in and Kristen Marie running after her. You and Melissa decided to adopt a little puppy a few months ago and you both are really happy with your lives now. Melissa re-thought her decision about getting married and proposed to you a year and a half ago, much to your surprise. Then you both agreed on adopting a dog and Melissa named her Bella. Kristen Marie takes Bella out one more time before leaving her with you guys. 

“Are you still alright with the fact that we got married?” You ask her.

“Oh, it’s more than alright baby. Cause I got to marry you, my happily ever after.” She tells you and you both kiss.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #abbott elementary

[askblueandviolet]

Don't feel Bad about your draws, Macaque is not that good in it too (he just lie about it)

MASTER POST

Previous 💙

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#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid fanart #monkie kid #monkie kid fanart #lmk #lmk fanart #lmk mayor #monkie kid mayor #blue and violet #I think Mayor sees art in a way in terms of ideas rather than skill level #Macaque's ideas are very clear when he draws - even if it looks like shit he can clearly convey his point #especially with his self portraits #so Mayor thinks Macaque's is good at making a point when he draws #they themselves on the other hand? not really #When they drew themselves it was not clear that it is even them to begin with #and thats not because they suck qt drawing #its because they don't now how to convey a point or an idea - let alone express themselves #in fact this guy barely has ideas at all in general- they might be one of the least creative people in existence #so I guess what I'm trying to say in the tags (which I rant too much in) is that I have thought about this too much LMAO

[kinardscoffee]

Do you think Tommy is here to stay for a while? How do you think is going to evolve his relationship with Buck? Will we get another kiss next episode?

I would love for him to stay forever!! Love him!!

Hey, Anon! Thanks for stopping by! I love talking about anything related to bucktommy, so you've basically made my day with your ask!

This turned into a long ass post, so I'm putting the rest under the cut.

Yes, I really do think Tommy is here to stay for a while because, honestly, he's the perfect LI to become Buck's endgame.

And I know that that thought is the biggest issue with certain stans right now, but like, he can easily have little storylines weaved throughout the series with the main and guest stars. And, if you actually read the interviews that the actors and Tim are doing, it's clear that's the goal. In fact, I was actually going to make a post for that idea, but I'll just add it here:

Hen, Chim, Bobby

Tommy clearly has a connection to Hen, Chim, and Bobby from his days at the 118. We've seen it in S2, so it's a canon fact. Chim saved his life, so that's a strong fucking bond right there. Not to mention they clearly enjoy quoting movies and probably discussing the plot of movies together. (Thank you, Bobby begins for the bar scene) Tommy was there when Kevin died, too, so he understands the loss that Chim has experienced through the job. And let's not forget that he had the opportunity to watch Chim become an amazing paramedic.

When it comes to Hen, he helped get rid of Captian Gerrard when Hen was being put through hell. (And yes, I do believe he said something to the higher ups. He is a military guy, and following the chain of command is very important to them, so I'm not surprised he never voiced his opinions outloud. Add that with the idea that he was very deep in the closet, he was probably terrified of that man.) And he knows that when it comes to Hen, she will never give up to do what's right and I like to think Tommy took a page from her book and applied that to his life on his journey to accept himself.

Then Bobby. Probably the first man in a leadership position that treated him with kindness and respect. When Bobby comes to the 118, there's some resistance, mostly from Sal, but even through all that, Tommy sees that Bobby is fair (transferring Sal to another station instead of fully firing him) and welcoming (by incorporating family dinners).

Athena

I was struggling with how he'd be connected to Athena, but then I remembered: trivia night!

Athena and Bobby used to have game night with Michael and David. Can you IMAGINE Bobby and Athena inviting Buck and Tommy over for dinner and game night??? I can. And I am so here for it!

Teams would absolutely be: Bobby and Buck. Athena and Tommy.

And let's face it. Athena sees Buck as Bobby's un-adopted son, so if Tommy makes Buck happy, Athena is good.

Karen

This one is interesting and maybe a tiny bit of a stretch, but I really believe that Tommy and Karen could connect through their interest for aviation/aerospace. She's a rocket scientist for crying out loud. He'd be like a little kid at the place where she works.

I also like to think that maybe, due to his childhood and being constantly between homes, he can help discuss the trauma that Mara might feel.

Maddie

I mean, the most important thing to her is that Tommy obviously makes her little brother happy and giddy. She wants to meet him, which is something I can't recall Buck or Maddie ever saying before about one of Buck's LI. Maybe Abby, but Buck was living in her apartment soooo... yeah.

I know Lou has revealed the backstory he has set up in his mind for Tommy and after saying his father was an alcoholic, I can't stop thinking that maybe little Tommy unfortunately experienced abuse from his father or witnessed it happening to his mom. Tommy, having a childhood connected to domestic violence, while not in the exact same way that Maddie experienced it, gives them something in common on a deeper level. An understanding of how important it is to accept love and open yourself up to the possibility.

Eddie

Eddie's friendship with Tommy is actually so interesting to me too because I have this crazy "invisible string" theory that includes him.(Platonically) But, moving on...

Clearly, they share a love of the same things. Muay Thai, watching fights, cars, Buck, basketball, the military.

For me, the military is their real connection because of Eddie's breakdown. No one else in Eddie's life can really understand what he's gone through and how it feels to maybe be the only one of your unit to survive. I'm pretty sure Tommy has already gone through therapy, and since Eddie had no one to reach out to with shared trauma like Frank suggested, he found that second chance in Tommy.

Buck

I mean... they connected lips and soon hearts. 🥺 Sooo....

Next question...

I really hope their relationship evolves in the cutest, sweetest, sometimes naughty, way!

I want to see nervousness. I want to see them learning things about each other. I want them to cuddle and laugh and go on double dates.

I want them to worry about the other one during a dangerous call or rush to each other at a moments notice.

I want to see them fall so in love with each other that I can sue ABC for giving me cavities from all the sweetness.

Having said that... I also want to see disagreements. Arguments and vulnerability and then the process of apologizing and making up.

So, basically, I want them to evolve into a healthy, stable, loving relationship.

And hell yeah! There will be a kiss on Thursday. I'd like to believe we'll see more than one just because of Oliver's interview, but for sure, we're getting one initiated by Buck and honestly I cannot fucking wait!!!!

I want him to stay forever, too. You're not alone 🩵

#911 spoilers #911 abc #911 fandom #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #911 speculation #tevan #kinley #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #anon 🩵

[honeybcj]

Could you pretty please give us some rosekiller hcs as you did for jeggy

oh nonnie i would absolutely love to give some of my rosekiller hcs <3 (i’ve copied over some from my “domestic hc” list, so those will be first and i’ve added some other ones on as well!)

— evan actually really enjoys cooking meals for the two of them, even if barty is an absolute nuisance in the kitchen. always stealing kisses and slapping his ass. stirring whatever is in the pot and pretending like he knows exactly what he’s doing (secretly he does know what he’s doing, but he loves when evan cooks for him, and evan is more than happy to indulge him <3)

— barty is a stress cleaner! he’s not always tidy, actually rather frequently he outright refuses to make the bed or will forget to wash his dishes, but then he goes and has one minor inconvenience and evan will come home to the couch on the other side of the room and the pantry reorganized by the color of each item.

— save water, shower together. there’s not a single chance you’ll find either of them showering on their own. they say it’s for the environment, but truthfully they are just severely connected at the hip, and barty wants any excuse to see evan naked

— evan will (and does) steal the same hoodie of barty’s anytime he is cold. might as well be part of his closet at this point. and before they actually started dating, barty would go out of his way to make sure it was clean every time evan came over even if it meant forking over four extra dollars worth of quarters and dealing with the bitchy lady at the laundromat (i did, in fact, include this hc in like smoke behind glass)

— i have it on good authority that for valentine’s day barty tried to bake evan a heart shaped cake (vanilla with raspberry jam and vanilla bean frosting), but he fucked it up real bad and forgot the LITERAL SUGAR but evan still plastered on the fakest damn smile and told him he was proud of barty

— freaky ass mfs. barty loves to receive praise while degrading someone else, and this dynamic works out really well between him and evan because evan finds a thrill in how barty’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he’s praised and how vulgar and open it makes him feel to be degraded by barty

— there’s a universe where barty is a dirtbag runner ( @moon-seas the idea has not left my head once) and he’s dry scooping preworkout before he goes on his runs while evan is swirling his little glass straw around his cup of fucking fresh pressed cucumber and kale juice

— evan’s obsessed with barty’s teeth, pretty much just teeth in general. and next thing you know evan is investing in a full 1940s style dentist chair that he keeps in his “lab” just so he can strap barty down and start analyzing his teeth until his little heart is content and barty’s just wooed the entire time like “oh wow, yeah, that one’s mine”

— their fucking is a bit clinical meet freak show if that even makes any sense whatsoever. it does it me and i stand by it!

— barty is a wannabe punk skater-boy but he’s more like if a possum got thrown into a bucket of water in the middle of hot topic in 2007 if you catch my drift and then evan is this cadaverous little puppet with an oddly ethereal quality that is both concerning and captivating. it’s like if the bean stalk from jack and the bean stalk got a little cunty, twinky man to be his boyfriend

#han’s asks #rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier

[bestworstcase]

So, regarding your Tai post,

https://www.tumblr.com/bestworstcase/748954216598470656/the-perennial-tai-discourse-is-really-interesting?source=share

I had some thoughts: I technically cover it in a separate post

https://www.tumblr.com/tumblingxelian/749060919422861312/really-solid-addition-here-much-like-with-qrows

But I'm unsure if the links will work so here is a slightly edited & expanded version:

Now, the idea that Ruby & Yang had very different childhoods is not an idea I strictly disagree with. But, I also think it is a bit inaccurate to treat it as outlined in your post.

What I mean is that while Yang is definitely more overt in the fact she feels Tai and the other adults failed them and defaults to centering family moments on Ruby. (For instance she frames the Zwei package as something to cheer Ruby up, its not for her & Ruby's the one really excited, Yang's just kind of there about it)

Despite that, Ruby herself doesn't have a simple relationship with Tai, or in fact she just might but that's not a good thing.

See, Ruby does not think about Tai very often, he's largely an afterthought in her letters for one. But more to the point he is not someone Ruby goes to for advice or guidance or even comfort.

Post Beacon, she mostly gets an update from him and is not bothered to see him go. She is OK being a bit more vulnerable around Qrow.

But the person she actually seeks out and seems utterly shocked at not receiving comfort from is Yang. It was also Yang who she questions for what to do next and Yang whom she confided her plans in before leaving.

Again she is shocked when Yang cannot supply these things to her.

Tai is her dad, but its a superficial relationship, he's nice, he can be fun, she does love him. She does not however, seem to perceive him as a reliable or responsible adult from whom she seeks protection or guidance.

The person she always defaulted to for that was Yang until she could no longer fill the role post V3 which likely fed into her issues with showing vulnerability in V9.

I tend to think she might have been more open to it in V5 given the breakdown tears & hug, but then Yang demonstrated she was still very much not all right & Ruby had no clue what to do. So she just sort of locked into her head that Yang needed 'her' protection now, not the other way around.

I would also just straight up note that even Ruby said it was Yang who raised her. Like, that wasn't even subtle, she knows who the parent was in that house and it wasn't Tai or Qrow. I don't think she'd say that if their childhoods were 'so' different that Tai was a functional parent to her but not Yang.

She definitely has a less... frosty relationship with the two grown men who she grew up around, Largely because they project the saintly Summer onto her and the Wretched Raven onto Yang.

Again, let's not forget Qrow's entirely willing to accept Yang brutalized a kid for shits and giggles or is "crazy". Or that Tai outright sees a lot of Raven in Yang, despite most of the traits he described not meshing with Yang's demonstrated or self described persona.

But even with that more positive relationship being projected onto and still raised by a sister two years your senior isn't exactly ideal. Both sisters had a shitty childhood, both were deeply neglected and failed and suffered because of that fact.

all true! but the nature of parentification is that the children experience the neglect in very different ways; the elder child is forced into an adult role, parenting the younger child, who is harmed in more invisible ways because they do have a caretaker—their sibling. anecdotally nearly every account of a childhood i’ve read by an adult who was raised as a child by older siblings has either alluded to or outright described 1. a much better childhood than their caretaking sibling(s) got, 2. because their sibling(s) shielded them from the worst neglect or abuse.

with that in mind and taking into consideration things like the different reactions to the package from tai (this will cheer ruby up vs ooh, something from home!) and yang staying behind at beacon when tai takes ruby to visit the memorial stone, and now these clear differences in how the girls feel about the boba shop (yang: unsure, downplaying the surprise, maybe it’s dumb / ruby: boba!!!) which probably reflect their emotional experience of the outings with dad (yang: fun, happy that ruby is so excited, not that special otherwise / ruby: magical)…

well, let’s put it this way:

yang did not have a real caretaker starting from age five, when she became the de facto main parent to her three-year-old sister with at best sporadic breaks when qrow wasn’t too blackout drunk / tai was having a good day.

ruby had a primary caretaker who struggled but was always there (yang) and a dad who had to work a lot but made time to do special things like the boba trips so that he could spend quality time with his family (tai). plus an uncle she sometimes needed to help her sister deal with.

yang being parentified has the effect of insulating ruby from the severity of tai’s neglect; in a functional single-income household where one parent stays home and the other works to support the family and both parents are adults who chose this dynamic and enjoy their respective roles, the working parent is not bad or neglectful simply because they aren’t around during the day to take care of the kids, and they can foster close, loving relationships with their children by making the most of the time they have at home. the childhood ruby had was a dysfunctional imitation of that dynamic.

and then factoring in the summer-vs-raven projection, when tai was around he focused on bonding time with ruby moreso than yang.

the net result is that the harm to ruby is much more invisible (yang by virtue of being a child herself could not provide ruby with healthy parent-child boundaries or the emotional stability children need from their parents to feel secure and develop good emotional regulation; tai’s favoritism of ruby being intertwined with idealizing of summer fucked ruby’s sense of self really badly; in the first few volumes ruby feels hurt and bewildered every time yang acts like her sister instead of her parent).

ruby sees clearly and states in volume nine that yang raised her; i don’t think she would have been able to articulate that so plainly in volume one, and this is something she’s come to realize after leaving home / living independently. in v1 it’s “yang used to read to me when we were little” and i’d bet that’s how ruby would phrase everything yang did—as discrete habits, not the combined pattern of “yang raised me.”

whereas yang like. the first thing she does at beacon is try to step away from ruby: encouraging her to meet new people then ditching her to catch up with friends, not wanting to partner up with her for initiation… much as yang loves her sister and enthusiastically supports her, it’s also pretty obvious that yang saw beacon as an opportunity to focus on herself for once. which says to me that she’d already grasped that their home life was messed up and that she needed to break those patterns once she left.

#profoundly different childhoods not much in the sense of good/bad but covert/overt harm. #which is p typical for any kind of favoritism dynamic #the favored child will have a happier childhood that masks the insidious ways the dysfunction Fucks Them Up

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 53 (Final Chapter)

It was the day of Loki’s birthday and his party.

Loki was woken up, not so rudely, to Claire under the blanket giving him a blowjob. She then gave him his other presents, even though he joked that was more than enough.

She’d gifted him a scarf, a new briefcase for work. He’d been going on about wanting new knives in the kitchen for cooking, so she got him a brand-new set that was quite expensive.

His favourite present from her though was a history book he’d been looking for, there was only fifty made in the world and he’d been trying to get it for years. It even had a letter of authenticity along with it.

‘How…’ He was speechless and just kept staring at the book in shock.

‘I had a lot of help.’ Was all Claire said.

‘I am forever in your debt for this.’ Loki said as he grabbed her in a big bear hug, making her laugh.

‘Says the guy who got me a bloody car! A book doesn’t compare.’

‘It so does. You have no idea what I was prepared to do or sell for this book.’ Loki said seriously.

‘I dread to think, so I’m not going to ask.’ Claire dismissed and rushed to the kitchen.

She came back ten seconds later with breakfast she had prepared for him, but he was nose deep in the book already. Even placing the food down right by him didn’t get his interest.

In the end, she had to pluck the book out of his hands to get him to focus.

‘Sorry, darling.’ He chuckled.

‘I’m glad you’re so excited about your present.’ Claire laughed.

‘I'll try and leave it till tomorrow.’ He said, though did glance longingly at the book on the table.

‘I’m sure I could leave you alone for a few hours upstairs while I prep down here for the party.’ She teased as she sat down next to him.

‘No, I’ll help.’ Loki said as they began to eat.

‘You will not! You’re not preparing your own party. I’ve got Jessica and Louise coming to help.’

‘Oh?’ Loki raised an eyebrow.

‘Yeah. I figured it would be good getting Louise over early, so she can at least meet Jessica first. Then when people start to trickle in it might be easier for her. She hasn’t been in a room with more than like three people for years. I’m not sure how her confidence will be.’

‘Ah, of course. That’s a good idea. Let her know she can go upstairs whenever she needs, if she wants some time to herself at any point.’ Loki said.

‘I will.’ Claire nodded.

When Jessica and Louise arrived just after lunch time, Claire shooed Loki upstairs with his book. Which he didn’t put up much of an argument over.

Jessica and Louise instantly clicked, which Claire was so glad of. She had a feeling they would though. The three of them had a good time setting everything up for the party, including a few glasses of wine of course.

When people began arriving for the party, it wasn’t long before music was turned up and drinks began flowing. Claire had managed to get Loki downstairs without much of a fuss, especially when she teased him with the fact she wasn’t wearing knickers under her dress, then coaxed him downstairs.

When Matt arrived, Louise was speaking to Loki. Claire took Matt straight over to introduce her to him.

‘Matt, this is my sister, Louise. Louise, this is Matt.’ Claire grinned and motioned to Louise.

‘Hi, nice to meet you.’ Louise said with a smile.

She was nervous being around people she didn’t know, but she knew she was safe with Claire and of course with Loki. Meeting everyone as they arrived was easier than walking in to a bunch of people already there.

‘Nice to meet you too.’ Matt put his hand out towards her.

She hesitated, but then eventually did put her hand into his to shake hands, though it was a very quick hand shake before she retracted her hand. Loki internally cursed at himself for not pre warning Matt that she might be a little unsure around him at first.

Claire introduced her to all the others as they arrived too. So it wouldn’t seem obvious she was trying to hook them up. Though she did make sure they ended up back by Matt, so they could talk.

‘Remember, if you need space just say. You can go upstairs.’ Claire whispered to Louise.

‘I know, thank you. I’m fine, honestly. I know I’m safe with you guys. And everyone seems really nice.’ Louise assured her.

Louise, Claire, Loki, Matt and Spencer were together talking casually, when Louise became distracted looking over Claire’s shoulder. Claire saw her eyes widen.

‘Who is that?’ She asked in a little awe.

Loki and Claire turned around to see Chris entering, heading right their way.

‘Ah… That’s Chris, Loki’s brother.’ Claire told her.

Chris was halfway across the room towards them, but his eyes were locked on Louise, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. As he drew closer, Loki saw his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent.

‘Chris, this is my sister, Louise. Louise, this is Chris.’ Claire quickly introduced, though she wasn’t sure if he heard her or not because he was so focused on Louise.

Louise’s cheeks turned red as Chris stood on front of her, looking completely in wonder, Loki had never seen him look at someone like that before.

‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ Chris eventually spoke, his voice low and smooth.

‘Lovely to meet you, too.’ Louise squeaked out, she put her hand out towards him straight away without hesitation.

Chris took her hand in his and felt electricity shoot through his veins. He slowly lifted her hand and dipped his head down to kiss the back of her hand when she didn’t pull away.

Louise couldn’t take her eyes off of him, Loki sensed her heartbeat spike, but not in fear. He also sensed Chris’ heartbeat spike too. He looked at Claire and she looked at him, both sharing the same look.

‘Brother, I need a quick word.’ Loki said as he put his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

Chris only just managed to tear his eyes away from Louise to glance at Loki, Loki motioned towards the kitchen with his head. Chris reluctantly agreed and let go of Louise’s hand.

Louise’s skin was tingling where he had kissed her.

Loki dragged Chris into the kitchen and shut the door so they could have a little bit of privacy.

‘Please tell me what I think is happening, is not happening.’ Loki whined.

‘She… She’s my soulmate! I can feel it.’ Chris said breathless, unable to get his mind to work properly.

Claire entered the kitchen and shut the door behind her, to see Chris looking like he’d just found gold and Loki with his face in his hands.

‘Is she your soulmate?’ Claire squeaked.

‘This is not happening.’ Loki said firmly. ‘Not Louise! Anyone but her!’ He groaned.

‘She’s beautiful.’ Chris said, his voice was a little high, like he was in a trance.

‘To be honest, you are totally her type. Tall, dark, handsome, tattooed. Plus being a vampire… Heck, I’m surprised she hasn’t spread her legs for you already.’ Claire teased with a laugh.

‘We are trying to hook her up with Matt! Not whore her out to my brother!’ Loki argued.

‘Not going to happen.’ Chris growled low and turned to head back through to the living room.

‘Oh no… no, no, no!’ Loki chanted in a panic and darted after him.

Claire, however, had a huge smile on her face and she felt fuzzy in her heart for Louise and Chris.

Perhaps her match-making hadn’t worked out exactly as planned, but it seemed that her sister was getting a match anyway.

‘Oooo, we could double date!’ Claire said excitedly to herself as she rushed after them.

-

NOTE: There is a sequel! There's so SO much more to go with these guys. Instead of making it a super long fic, I thought a sequel would be better, which will become apparent why when I post the first chapter next week.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #loki fic #chris motionless #the redbridge hunts #vampire Loki

[t1gerlilly]

I’ve seen a number of posts dismissing discussions of racism in the new storyline out of hand. To the point where I have no idea what the original criticisms were. And I think that’s really unfortunate. Partly because it feels like there’s a part of our community we’re not listening to and partly because I have some questions on the subject and would really like to hear what people are saying about it, but I’m clearly not following the right people.

I think folks forget how important Eddie is as Hispanic rep. Although 25% of the US population is Hispanic, only 3.3% of lead roles in TV are played by Hispanic actors (source) They’re also only 1.6% of showrunners and 1.9% of directors. And they are also under 5% of executive or management roles in media (source). So there is clearly a systemic problem.

But how does that apply to 911? Well - Carlos on lone star is notorious for having the least screen time of any character, despite the fact that his character is the closest to Athena in terms of role. And Eddie? Well, the latest I could find was season five totals - and Eddie and Chim, the non-white or black men, were bottom of the barrel. To really establish a pattern, you’d want more than two shows, but at least across half a decade of shows, the pattern is pretty consistent. I’m not making an argument about the reasons for that, but those are just the numbers. If I were to speculate, I’d assume it was a combination of who the network exec, showrunner, and executive producer was, since they have the power to make decisions. Just coincidentally, their racial identities mirror the screen time of the characters? Hmmmm

So then let’s look at who does press for the show - making themselves more visible…yeah, that’s largely Oliver. And you can say that’s because he’s a POV character- but you might be surprised to learn that in many seasons either Hen or Athena had more screen time than Buck. Yeah. Really. But you NEVER see Aisha put out to do press the way that Oliver is.

Why is that? Is it because she’s a black woman? Because she plays a queer character? And who is making that decision and why? Because that lack of visibility impacts her personal career. Same thing with Ryan Guzman and Kenneth Choi, who both have less screen time AND less press.

But in particular- and this is the rub - Ryan has CLEARLY been making intentional acting choices FOR YEARS to shape his character and his dynamic with Buck as queer. Oliver played into them, thinking of them as natural chemistry- but it’s clear that other creators on the show - notably the directors and writers, picked up on Ryan’s choices and fan reactions to reframe the dynamics and the characters.

And it’s really clear that Tim originally intended to have Eddie come out, but the poor reaction to Natalia and the fact that the actress was unavailable led him to switch the storyline to Buck. All of which is perfectly understandable.

But if there’s one person most responsible for the reason we ultimately got bi!Buck, it’s Ryan Guzman - for the bravery and perseverance of his choices as an artist. It’s amazing to me that in all the praise for Oliver saying that he “would have” leaned into Buck as queer even without the go ahead…no one has thought to praise the actor who actually DID THAT - for YEARS- when he was in a much more precarious position as a character and an actor. Like really take a minute to look at what that took…he was risking his livelihood with that choice.

And then, when the show DOES finally make it canon…who gets the praise? The buzz? The support? The white guy who was mostly oblivious for the past five years. Like…how is THAT fair?

And OK, the original plan was for the helicopter pilot to be Lucy, and that fell through so they reached out to Lou, because Tommy was a former character- but also quite likely because he looks a good deal like Buck - and the SL was supposed to have that character be a stand-in for the other half of Buddie. When they switched to Buck, they had to make Tommy have similar hobbies to Eddie to establish the similarities, since they couldn’t rely on looks.

But that meant they totally whitewashed the story line. And if you want to talk about firsts - when has a Hispanic lead come out as gay or bi? And how many of them were men? And how many were over 21? And on a mainstream show?

And no, it wasn’t intentional (just a function of having so many more white characters than Hispanic characters), but it was unfortunate. Not to mention the intersectionality of it all.

So…I honestly think there’s a decent basis for critique there. Not a “these people are terrible” critique, but a “not paying attention to diversity systemically” in a way that lets unconscious bias have the same impact as deliberate bias.

And I really wonder at the people who just dismissed the entire discussion - how hard did you listen? How willing were you to hear what people were saying? Because this is an issue that has to do with real people, their careers, their hopes, dreams, and identities. And you should be willing to listen.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 discourse #911

[dailyanarchistposts]

A.2.16 Does anarchism require “perfect” people to work?

No. Anarchy is not a utopia, a “perfect” society. It will be a human society, with all the problems, hopes, and fears associated with human beings. Anarchists do not think that human beings need to be “perfect” for anarchy to work. They only need to be free. Thus Christie and Meltzer:

”[A] common fallacy [is] that revolutionary socialism [i.e. anarchism] is an ‘idealisation’ of the workers and [so] the mere recital of their present faults is a refutation of the class struggle … it seems morally unreasonable that a free society … could exist without moral or ethical perfection. But so far as the overthrow of [existing] society is concerned, we may ignore the fact of people’s shortcomings and prejudices, so long as they do not become institutionalised. One may view without concern the fact … that the workers might achieve control of their places of work long before they had acquired the social graces of the ‘intellectual’ or shed all the prejudices of the present society from family discipline to xenophobia. What does it matter, so long as they can run industry without masters? Prejudices wither in freedom and only flourish while the social climate is favourable to them … What we say is … that once life can continue without imposed authority from above, and imposed authority cannot survive the withdrawal of labour from its service, the prejudices of authoritarianism will disappear. There is no cure for them other than the free process of education.” [The Floodgates of Anarchy, pp. 36–7]

Obviously, though, we think that a free society will produce people who are more in tune with both their own and others individuality and needs, thus reducing individual conflict. Remaining disputes would be solved by reasonable methods, for example, the use of juries, mutual third parties, or community and workplace assemblies (see section I.5.8 for a discussion of how could be done for anti-social activities as well as disputes).

Like the “anarchism-is-against-human-nature” argument (see section A.2.15), opponents of anarchism usually assume “perfect” people — people who are not corrupted by power when placed in positions of authority, people who are strangely unaffected by the distorting effects of hierarchy, privilege, and so forth. However, anarchists make no such claims about human perfection. We simply recognise that vesting power in the hands of one person or an elite is never a good idea, as people are not perfect.

It should be noted that the idea that anarchism requires a “new” (perfect) man or woman is often raised by the opponents of anarchism to discredit it (and, usually, to justify the retention of hierarchical authority, particularly capitalist relations of production). After all, people are not perfect and are unlikely ever to be. As such, they pounce on every example of a government falling and the resulting chaos to dismiss anarchism as unrealistic. The media loves to proclaim a country to be falling into “anarchy” whenever there is a disruption in “law and order” and looting takes place.

Anarchists are not impressed by this argument. A moment’s reflection shows why, for the detractors make the basic mistake of assuming an anarchist society without anarchists! (A variation of such claims is raised by the right-wing “anarcho”-capitalists to discredit real anarchism. However, their “objection” discredits their own claim to be anarchists for they implicitly assume an anarchist society without anarchists!). Needless to say, an “anarchy” made up of people who still saw the need for authority, property and statism would soon become authoritarian (i.e. non-anarchist) again. This is because even if the government disappeared tomorrow, the same system would soon grow up again, because “the strength of the government rests not with itself, but with the people. A great tyrant may be a fool, and not a superman. His strength lies not in himself, but in the superstition of the people who think that it is right to obey him. So long as that superstition exists it is useless for some liberator to cut off the head of tyranny; the people will create another, for they have grown accustomed to rely on something outside themselves.” [George Barrett, Objections to Anarchism, p. 355]

Hence Alexander Berkman:

“Our social institutions are founded on certain ideas; as long as the latter are generally believed, the institutions built on them are safe. Government remains strong because people think political authority and legal compulsion necessary. Capitalism will continue as long as such an economic system is considered adequate and just. The weakening of the ideas which support the evil and oppressive present day conditions means the ultimate breakdown of government and capitalism.” [What is Anarchism?, p. xii]

In other words, anarchy needs anarchists in order to be created and survive. But these anarchists need not be perfect, just people who have freed themselves, by their own efforts, of the superstition that command-and-obedience relations and capitalist property rights are necessary. The implicit assumption in the idea that anarchy needs “perfect” people is that freedom will be given, not taken; hence the obvious conclusion follows that an anarchy requiring “perfect” people will fail. But this argument ignores the need for self-activity and self-liberation in order to create a free society. For anarchists, “history is nothing but a struggle between the rulers and the ruled, the oppressors and the oppressed.” [Peter Kropotkin, Act for Yourselves, p. 85] Ideas change through struggle and, consequently, in the struggle against oppression and exploitation, we not only change the world, we change ourselves at the same time. So it is the struggle for freedom which creates people capable of taking the responsibility for their own lives, communities and planet. People capable of living as equals in a free society, so making anarchy possible.

As such, the chaos which often results when a government disappears is not anarchy nor, in fact, a case against anarchism. It simple means that the necessary preconditions for creating an anarchist society do not exist. Anarchy would be the product of collective struggle at the heart of society, not the product of external shocks. Nor, we should note, do anarchists think that such a society will appear “overnight.” Rather, we see the creation of an anarchist system as a process, not an event. The ins-and-outs of how it would function will evolve over time in the light of experience and objective circumstances, not appear in a perfect form immediately (see section H.2.5 for a discussion of Marxist claims otherwise).

Therefore, anarchists do not conclude that “perfect” people are necessary anarchism to work because the anarchist is “no liberator with a divine mission to free humanity, but he is a part of that humanity struggling onwards towards liberty.” As such, ”[i]f, then, by some external means an Anarchist Revolution could be, so to speak, supplied ready-made and thrust upon the people, it is true that they would reject it and rebuild the old society. If, on the other hand, the people develop their ideas of freedom, and they themselves get rid of the last stronghold of tyranny — the government — then indeed the revolution will be permanently accomplished.” [George Barrett, Op. Cit., p. 355]

This is not to suggest that an anarchist society must wait until everyone is an anarchist. Far from it. It is highly unlikely, for example, that the rich and powerful will suddenly see the errors of their ways and voluntarily renounce their privileges. Faced with a large and growing anarchist movement, the ruling elite has always used repression to defend its position in society. The use of fascism in Spain (see section A.5.6) and Italy (see section A.5.5) show the depths the capitalist class can sink to. Anarchism will be created in the face of opposition by the ruling minorities and, consequently, will need to defend itself against attempts to recreate authority (see section H.2.1 for a refutation of Marxist claims anarchists reject the need to defend an anarchist society against counter-revolution).

Instead anarchists argue that we should focus our activity on convincing those subject to oppression and exploitation that they have the power to resist both and, ultimately, can end both by destroying the social institutions that cause them. As Malatesta argued, “we need the support of the masses to build a force of sufficient strength to achieve our specific task of radical change in the social organism by the direct action of the masses, we must get closer to them, accept them as they are, and from within their ranks seek to ‘push’ them forward as much as possible.” [Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas, pp. 155–6] This would create the conditions that make possible a rapid evolution towards anarchism as what was initially accepted by a minority “but increasingly finding popular expression, will make its way among the mass of the people” and “the minority will become the People, the great mass, and that mass rising up against property and the State, will march forward towards anarchist communism.” [Kropotkin, Words of a Rebel, p. 75] Hence the importance anarchists attach to spreading our ideas and arguing the case for anarchism. This creates conscious anarchists from those questioning the injustices of capitalism and the state.

This process is helped by the nature of hierarchical society and the resistance it naturally developed in those subject to it. Anarchist ideas develop spontaneously through struggle. As we discuss in section I.2.3, anarchistic organisations are often created as part of the resistance against oppression and exploitation which marks every hierarchical system and can., potentially, be the framework of a few society. As such, the creation of libertarian institutions is, therefore, always a possibility in any situation. A peoples’ experiences may push them towards anarchist conclusions, namely the awareness that the state exists to protect the wealthy and powerful few and to disempower the many. That while it is needed to maintain class and hierarchical society, it is not needed to organise society nor can it do so in a just and fair way for all. This is possible. However, without a conscious anarchist presence any libertarian tendencies are likely to be used, abused and finally destroyed by parties or religious groups seeking political power over the masses (the Russian Revolution is the most famous example of this process). It is for that reason anarchists organise to influence the struggle and spread our ideas (see section J.3 for details). For it is the case that only when anarchist ideas “acquire a predominating influence” and are “accepted by a sufficiently large section of the population” will we “have achieved anarchy, or taken a step towards anarchy.” For anarchy “cannot be imposed against the wishes of the people.” [Malatesta, Op. Cit., p. 159 and p. 163]

So, to conclude, the creation of an anarchist society is not dependent on people being perfect but it is dependent on a large majority being anarchists and wanting to reorganise society in a libertarian manner. This will not eliminate conflict between individuals nor create a fully formed anarchist humanity overnight but it will lay the ground for the gradual elimination of whatever prejudices and anti-social behaviour that remain after the struggle to change society has revolutionised those doing it.

#faq #anarchy faq #revolution #anarchism #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #organization #grassroots #grass roots #anarchists #libraries #leftism #social issues #economy #economics #climate change #climate crisis #climate #ecology #anarchy works #environmentalism #environment #solarpunk #anti colonialism #mutual aid #cops #police

[unecoccinellenoire]

I wish you would write a fic where Gabriel, Adrien, and Nathalie get ice cream from Andre Glacier and Gabriel’s ice cream reflects Nathalie, not Emilie

It had seemed like a good idea; Nathalie had needed reassurance after being akumatised so Adrien thought to ask, and his father was being unusually attentive and indulgent so for once he could ask an expect a yes.

In fact the sound of André Glacier calling out his wares in front of the manor had seemed like fate.

Nathalie hadn't been happy with his father at breakfast, Adrien wasn't stupid enough not to see that, but his father had clearly been making an effort to win her back over- including finally acknowledging her as part of the family even if he wasn't quite ready to admit they were dating yet despite the ring he'd given her.

The two of them sharing ice cream meant for lovers should have been the ideal way to get them to reconcile, keep Nathalie from being akumatised again in her fragile state and prevent his father from falling back into the pit of grief he'd only just managed to claw his way out from.

But even as Adrien was staring at his own familar bowl of blackberry, blueberry, and strawberry choc chip and trying to convince itself that it wasn't necessarily Ladybug- that the it could be Marinette's hair and eyes and the spots in the red meant nothing his father's hand slammed down on the counter.

"That's the wrong one," He snapped at the ice cream seller. "Peach and Mint, that's what you always give me." Adrien looked up to see a bowl that looked nothing like that.

It actually looked not dissimilar to his own, the same small scoop of blueberry sat on top but-

"No, this is right," André said, "you need something a little different now, cranberry for-"

"How things have soured between us? I'm no fool I can see who this is meant to be,"

Nathalie, it had to be. As if there was any question that it those colours for his father could be anyone else the swirl of red sauce on the dark blue sorbet matching the streak on her hair made that clear.

"Isn't that a good thing?" He interupted his father, "that,"

"That it can change?" His father snarled back, "all that establishes is that this whole thing is a marketing strategy. That it's not your soulmate or the love of your life or whatever ridiculous,"

"Love is not ridiculous," André interrupted, "you can find love again Monsieur Agreste. It finds us all."

"That's-"

"Father," Adrien tried again, "if we don't hurry up then Nathalie will come looking for us."

"I'm sure Nathalie is already watching us," Gabriel spat.

Adrien blinked and stared at his father, "you said all of that knowing she might hear it? How could you? Nathalie loves you, and she's already scared because of her illness- she was just akumatised. How could you be so horrible to her?"

"Nathalie would probably say,"

"That you forget to think about other people." The woman herself startled them.

"You shouldn't be out of the house," Adrien said, feeling his cheeks go hot with embarassment.

"Your father bought me this so I could leave the house," she said, and she held out some notes to André, "here. Give me mine and we'll be gone."

"Ah, mademoiselle," he went to scope up a white ice cream, "for his icy-"

"I don't need the spiel. You've already upset one of us. Just give me something that tastes nice."

The ice cream seller handed it over. Nathalie sighed as she took it.

Once again it was easy to know who it was. Though Adrien wondered at the scoop of what looked like raspberry ripple. It looked just like one of the cravats his father used to favour, but he wasn't wearing it now.

He hadn't in fact ever since he'd finally reached out to Adrien. It didn't make sense that it was the version of his father who hadn't moved on who André had given Nathalie. Maybe Ladybug and his father were right. Making this ice cream man just put the combinations together he wanted. Maybe there was no magic.

"Thank you," Nathalie said. "Let's go."

His father stomped his way back to the house and Adrien just did not get it. No one was saying he didn't love Adrien's maman. And he'd been looked so concerned for Nathalie after his akumatisation. He didn't know how he could treat her like this, react like this now.

"Adrien," he father said suddenly, "go find us napkins. There's some in the kitchen. Nathalie and I will meet you in the garden."

He did as he was told but his father must have misjudged because Adrien was still in earshot when he heard him say, "this means nothing."

"If you say so Gabriel."

"Don't."

"I thought you asked me to call you that."

"You know," his father said, "if I was to believe in this rubbish then that cone of yours would say you still loved me."

"Does it? Or does it say that I loved the man you were."

"You're not-" his father suddenly broke off, "oh god. You are."

"Using that is cheating." Nathalie said.

Adrien frowned and peeked out the door but he couldn't see what "that" she was talking about. It just seemed to be his father and Nathalie holding nothing but their ice creams.

"But then," his father's hold on his ice cream was tight, and Adrien feared he break it, "no. No no, these things can't be real. That's just coincedence. Yours being right doesn't mean mine is."

"Thanks for making it so clear to me," Nathalie says sounding like she's making a company annoucement, "I always wanted to hear you tell me I'm not good enough for you."

His father suddenly burst out laughing. The ice cream fell from his hands to the floor.

Adrien stared in horror. This wasn't even cruelty from his father. There was no taunting in his laughter, it was all hysteria. He looked insane. Possessed.

"You think that's the problem," he said, "oh the things I could do to you Nathalie. They'd make you blush."

"Monsieur Adrien could hear you."

"I told you not to call me that." He grabbed her arm, and Adrien almost throught he was going to kiss her from how close their faces were, "don't you get it Nathalie? I could kill that man for giving me that ice cream today. I could have had this weeks ago and- and things would be different. But he gave it to me when it's too late. When I don't have the time left to-"

"Adrien," Nathalie hissed. "He might still be in the kitchen."

His father let go of her and straightens up. "It doesn't matter. This changes nothing. The only way out is the way it always has been."

Adrien didn't understand. What way out? Why didn't they have time, Nathalie's illness? Or something else?

"You should clean up that mess." Nathalie's eyes flicked to the split ice cream on the floor, the mess that had been supposed to be love for her her, "I'm going to go out after Adrien."

Her words had his feet moving, terror at getting caught moving him despite his broken heart. Something was very wrong, but all he was sure of was that them knowing he'd heard would only make things worse.

#angst #gabenath #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #if you want a happy ice cream fic go to my ao3 #my fic #prompt fic

[featherstorm2004]

AFO and Deku

So in light of the recent chapter and the now fully checked out AFO I have seen some people suggest that Deku might try to save him like he did for Shigaraki, and to be honest I'm not fully keen on the idea but first let's explain why some people think this.

The first reason is that in this chapter AFO's mask has fully been dropped and right now he is at his most vulnerable, with Yoichi gone he is in unimaginable pain and can barley muster up the will to fight. And Deku noticed this as AFO is not a creature of subtlety, so people have concluded that since Deku has been built up as a character who will always reach a hand to those in pain, even to his worst enemies (Shigaraki) that clearly he will do the same for AFO. Especially now when AFO's will has been broken and he sees no reason to fight anymore.

There's also the fact that AFO has gradually been humanized since the war started with us learning more about his and his brothers past. However, I feel compelled to mention that when people say Deku will try to "save" AFO what they really mean is put him down gently by having him accept his own death and let himself fade away, which is not a bad end for AFO by any means but it feels wrong for Deku to be the one to do it as to be frank, he and AFO mean nothing to each other.

At this moment in time AFO is not a personal antagonist to Deku, he was/is merely the roadblock on Deku's journey to save Shigaraki, his thematic parallel and deuteragonist. And likewise Deku was simply AFO's roadblock to Yoichi nothing more nothing less, but now Yoichi is seemingly gone which means his relevance to AFO has greatly diminished. I mean don't get me wrong AFO is definitely pissed at him but right now he is simply tired and states so himself that he doesn't care about the groups of hero's attacking him.

So, it feels wrong for Deku of all people to be the one to reach him after all this time, especially when the most likely candidates for that role have at the moment been put out of commission, with Yoichi shattered and Shigaraki smothered.

With that being said it's not impossible for Horiskoshi to surprise us and have Tomura reawaken and put his master to rest but I think that is very unlikely as Tomura is not exactly known to be kind to those who cross him. Especially now since AFO has effectively killed what little good will Shigaraki had left for him after admitting to being behind his families death so, I doubt that he will have the compassion to try and convince AFO to fade away.

There's also the fact that I'm not fully convinced that Yoichi is really gone, especially for him to be taken out in such an anticlimactic way I mean Horikoshi couldn't even bring himself to kill Endeavor when his story had clearly reached his conclusion so I doubt he would end Yoichi's story so prematurely. But yeah that's just my way of saying that I don't think Deku is going to be the one to end AFO it's just not his place in the story and it never has been, but that's not to say someone else can't

#shigaraki tomura #all for one #my hero academia #mha #bnha spoilers #bnha meta #bnha shigaraki #character analysis #afo #mha afo #bnha afo #boku no hero academia #bnha chapter 421 #mha chapter 421 #bnha 421 #bnha theory #bnha deku #deku #mha deku #mha izuku #izuku midoriya

[tgmsunmontue]

Where do I know you from? 3/?

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO

PART THREE

                Rooster Nine arrives in chef whites, which he guesses answers the question of what he does for a job, although he’s getting asked a whole raft of questions by Three and Five.

                “What are you two writing down?”

                “Well, every Bradley here has a Jake in their Universe. I think we’re meant to find you yours.”

                “We don’t need to find him. I know where he is.”

                “You’ve met him already?”

                Jake stares at them both.

                “Considering you’re both meant to be super smart, you’re thick as bricks. I recognized you all,” Jake says, waving his hand at the accumulating Roosters, who seem to be arriving at an even faster rate. “Of course I’ve met him. I’ve saved his life. We see each other nearly every day.”

                Rooster Three and Five exchange looks.

                “And you’re not together with him?” Rooster Five asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow and of course he looks exactly like Rooster, but it’s not him and Jake scowls.

                “I think I’d know,” Jake snaps.

                “Maybe that’s why we’re here. To get them together. Me and my Jake had to swap bodies before we figured our shit out.”

                “It’s as good a theory as any,” Rooster Three concedes and Jake pulls a face.

                “I don’t need alternate versions of my… work colleague, trying to hook me up with him,” Jake says, and then wonders if that even made sense.

                “Bob would probably know.”

                Jake is about to ask why Bob would have any idea about this kind of thing but the door is swinging open and he knows it’s going to be yet another Rooster.

                “Oh wow… what is going on here. It’s like there’s a rip in time and space and only I can use it. This is super weird. Hey Jake…”

                The way he greets Jake and says Jake’s name is syrupy warm and a few of the other Roosters snort in amusement. Rooster Ten is stepping close and giving him a hug, brushing a kiss across his cheek and Jake pulls back.

                “What the fuck man. I don’t know you.”

                “Bet you want to though.”

                “No. Apparently his Bradley is just a work colleague.”

                Nearly every Rooster in the close vicinity scoffs and this many Bradshaw’s are really starting to get on his nerves. Rooster Ten rests his hands on his shoulders, massages them and as nice as it might feel Jake is not having it.

                “Get your hands off me.”

                Immediately Rooster Ten is backing away, hands up in easy supplication, although his eyebrow is quirked in that same challenging way Rooster has and he has to resist the urge to punch it off and he needs to calm down and deescalate the situation. He grits his teeth.

                “Surely your Jake wouldn’t want you, uh, touching another Jake.”

                “Oh, I know for a fact that he’d be more than okay with this. We have discussed this fantasy in detail.”

                Jake doesn’t even know how to begin addressing that, just turns toward Three and Five, because despite their nerding-out over the science they haven’t tried to hit on him. Other then Three giving him a wink, which compared to the other shit happening is completely benign. Still, Rooster Ten doesn’t seem too put-off, settles in the chair next to Jake and just watches, accepts the beer from Rooster Six.

                Rooster Ten went to USNA. He’s the first Rooster here who went to USNA and Jake wonders if that’s what makes him more confident. Except all of the Roosters are confident in their own ways. Of course, that’s when Rooster Eleven arrives, and he looks like he’s wearing body paint, he doesn’t have the same bulk as some of the others, but he’s still well muscled. Jake can tell under the body-paint-esque workout attire that Rooster Eleven is wearing.

                Rooster Ten reaches over and closes his jaw, dabs at the corner of Jake’s mouth with a napkin.

                “Just a work colleague huh?” Rooster Ten murmurs, and Jake gives him the finger.

                “What do you do?” Rooster Three asks the new arrival.

                “I’m a dance teacher. Are you documenting all this?”

                “For science,” Rooster Three and Five answer and Rooster Eleven just nods, shrugs his shoulders easily. He seems very relaxed.

                “And is Tom Kazansky alive or dead…”

                “Dead… what kind of question is that?”

                “We’re just trying to figure out all the potential pivot points of the timelines. So is Maverick with Penny in your Universe then?”

                “No. He’s with Beau.”

                “Who?”

                “Ah, Admiral Simpson.”

                Jake is glad he isn’t the only one spitting their drink out in surprise.

PART FOUR

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #where do I know you from?

[ashesbreadandbutter]

I've got one: an Adam that can SEE soulmates. He grins nastily as he takes a GOOD LONG look at Alastor and SMIRKS "Vox, huh? You love him, hmm? I can see it written right on your disgusting soul Al-ass-tor. Annnnd even better he's your soulmate. I kill him, I cause you unimaginable pain and suffering for eternity without touching you." And then he takes off, leaving Lute and his army to take care of the hotel--who HEARD HIM to search for Vox.

The Vees are in full out panic mode, of course. They have no idea what to do. Vox say he can carry both Val and Vel through the electricity but they need a location to go too--abd the vacation home is too far, he doesn't have the juice.

Valentino is pissed at Vox for being Alastor's soulmate, and panicking about the certain death heading their way.

Velvette doesn't care: "Take us as far as you can to the vacation home and we can steal a car!"

Alastor is RAGING. How DARE that pompous f-wit threaten what is HIS?!? (Although he is pleased Adam did announce Vox was his too all of Hell. Now no one would dare try to date Vox after he killed the moth.)

(Feel free to use :3)

Thank you anon because I definitely WILL be taking this.

No really this is good, honestly you anons are helping write the best voxal fanfic with me as well speak. I think after I finish my current writing coms today then I'll start on this story. It honestly sounds really fun and I'm a bit of a slow burn kinda gal with a passion for angst so this is definitely up my alley.

The idea of Adam coming in? Mwah!

Like imagine the way Alastor freezes the moment Adam says that stuff about going after Vox and especially before Vox finds himself having to defend the vees. Bro doesn't even know what's going on at first and that he's basically one of the reasons it's happening. Imagine his shock if Alastor does hunt him down before the angels get there, both confusion AND relief showing on his face just to see Alastor. Though there's also annoyance.

"ugh! I could have handle a few angels Alastor!" He growls after Alastor grabs them after fighting and imagine something like after Alastor saves them he and Vox are having this argument just for Vox to stop when it seems Alastor did in fact take some damage.

"a few isn't tons Vox." Alastor would most like his back while cradling a wound and Vox might as well be the one to help him clean it up, matter of fact he has too because everyone is rather fearful of the pair. Alastor doesn't want anyone to deal with the wound like a stubborn dog unless it's Vox and this could leave them a lot of time just to sit with each other. It's silent as Vox carefully cleans his wounds, gentle and careful not to do anything that would hurt even more and then as he's looking over Alastor's body he'll glare at nothing halfheartedly, brows burrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"why'd you do something so stupid?" He'll ask and I can see Alastor's ear twitching. Vox basically asks him what's his problem. Why'd he go out there to fight so many angels and over HIM of all people? He's both flattered and a bit unnerved.

If Alastor really did all that to help him then maybe he SHOULD go back to the hotel just to keep an eye on Alastor's healing though maybe it's just a way to get closer because though Vox being Alastor's soul mate is life changing on his own, knowing and seeing Alastor after such a fight and touching his wounds really manages to draw Vox in. Like he wants to be with Alastor in the same bed and everything as he heals.

I wanna say Alastor will heal with no issue but imagine a case where he doesn't. Where the angel blades hold off his healing for just long enough to where Vox is actually worried over the other man.

This could be an interesting part to rebuild their connection. Seeing Alastor almost die while showing Hell that Vox BELONGS TO HIM really makes the TV demon flustered and more than he's ever been before. (Vox likes knowing Alastor is possessive enough to literally have a battle of his own with heaven. It makes him feel special and more than he ever has before)

I'd like to say this situation really convinces Vox but with their history he's worried about getting too close even though he wants to.

He's scared of falling in love with Alastor because what it its 'not the right time' again?

Vox is definitely an over thinker in this case, will sit through the healing process for Alastor but maybe he finds Alastor's words to be a fluke? Did he really mean it? Yeah he almost DIED but he couldn't possibly- he definitely means it.

They've had their history but Vox is a runner now and Alastor wants to chase him. After all, who could know him better than his old friend and whether Vox likes it or not no one would DARE (especially after the shocking announcement that they are soulmates) take Alastor's destined spot in his life.

I honestly love these ideas and I have many myself, keep em coming y'all!

- A

#vox x alastor #alastor x vox #voxal #writing commissions #please commission me #i will write almost anythin #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fandom #fanfic #hazbin hotel #writers of tumblr #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #anon answered #send anons #anon ask #thanks anon! #anonymous #headcanon #story building

[tash-sho-sho]

The meaning of life

Gotta write this, and thinking on a story while writing it. (Might or not extended; draft; general idea)

"Don't you ever wonder why is it we live in a place such as this?" You asked once, even if the memories were fading and all will be for the restart of a new world, it has always been like this, it seems.

"What do you mean?" Malleus wondered what had made you ask that. You simply smile, and he, for some reason, saw Lilia. Why do you look as if you've seen a lot? He doesn't like it when you do that expression.

"I had always wondered why life ever existed." You simply said. Malleus had a gut feeling that it was more than that. Although, he wasn't sure if you would even want to elaborate.

He stopped to think for a moment. Well, he hadn't thought of that. "Can you elaborate?"

"Hmm," you hummed, "I would think of life as a miracle, but it has no meaning aside from that."

Malleus tilted his head. "You can say that. But aren't humans all about finding meaning in life? An answer such as this must be easier for you than I, a fae." A cheeky smile graced his face, and you couldn't help but laugh. As if he had say the most funniest of jokes.

"Humans, sure. I am." You looked at the stars on the sky. Tonight was as beautiful as any other. It was always beautiful every time he came. You wondered if it was like that because of his presence.

"Well, realistically speaking, life's only meaning is to reproduce, it does not have any other." You said as a matter of fact. Malleus frowned.

Before he can debate, you continue speaking, "But, what does it really matter what life really is? If you can find comfort in something else aside from that, I think it's fine, too." You look at him with a smile, "After all, every living being has a set of emotions that come with life, wouldn't be normal that those emotions help you find another reason fo live?"

...well, what else could he expect of someone like you? Unique as you are, and though he could understand part of it, he said nothing. You laughed at his stunned expression.

Maybe he wasn't used to sentimental conversations. It was ok, you and him had all the time in the world.

"You are laughing at me again." He pouts, and you couldn't help but pinch his cheek, he was just so cute!

"I'm sorry." You don't know if you really mean it.

"Hmph." He tried to keep his frowned but couldn't, not when you look at him like that. He thinks it's alright as long as you stay by his side. Looking at the stars and talking about anything.

As long as both of you are here living this moment.

As long as his emotions said that this is a good motive for life.

Everything will be alright.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia twisted wonderland #fluff #twst fluff #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #malleus x mc #hinting #immortal reader #twst x reader #drafts #character x reader

[slippinmickeys]

Prompt: more from the "Funfetti" universe? Is that even a thing? (Can it be a thing?)

William marched through the door of their house and angrily threw his backpack to the floor. 

Scully, who had only just gotten home a few minutes before and hadn’t even taken off her shoes, whirled around.

“Whoa!” she said, setting down the mail she was sorting. 

The doorway darkened behind William and Mulder made eye contact with her with a slight lift of his chin. 

“Little trouble at school today,” he said, coming inside and shutting the door behind him. 

William huffed his frustration at his father’s words and kicked off his shoes, then whipped his jacket into a chair. 

“How about,” Scully said, with an eye toward mediation, “we have a snack and then sit down and talk about it?”

William clenched his jaw in a way that was purely Mulder and then said “Can I have cookies?”

Scully, knowing a hangry William would be far harder to deal with, just said “yes” rather than suggest an apple and a couple cheese sticks. She suspected William was hip to this tactic and couldn’t fault him for playing her.

Several bags of Famous Amos cookies and two full glasses of milk later, Scully had him sitting in a chair in the living room while she lowered herself onto the couch. 

“Want to tell me about what happened?” she asked. 

Mulder, who had followed them into the living room, said, “His teacher told me that-”

At this, William bristled. “I’ll tell her,” he said, and Mulder just held up both hands in surrender and backed out of the room.

William went on to detail how he’d been ganged up on at recess while out in the woods past the edge of the playground. 

She and Mulder had picked the school because of the extensive grounds and the fact that many classes were held out of doors year round, using a teaching philosophy that was immersive and geared toward experiential learning. William was thriving there, but kids would be kids. And teachers couldn’t be everywhere at once. 

“It’s not fair,” he grumbled in conclusion. 

“What did they say?” she asked gently. 

“They called me a freak.”

“You’re not a-” 

“Mom!” he said, stopping her from finishing the platitude. “Come on.”

Scully sighed. She could hear Mulder tinkering around in the kitchen. 

“Did something happen that precipitated this?”

William huffed a breath himself and fell back into the cushions of the chair. 

“I don’t know,” he said, noncommittal. “I don’t think so.”

She tried not to worry. If something had…happened, they’d have gotten a call rather than a teacher pulling one of them aside at school pick-up.

“You can’t control what people think,” she finally said. “But you can control how you treat others. You’re still pretty new. Just be kind,” she went on. “They’ll come around.”

“They’re not going to come around, Mom,” he said. “They’re assholes.”

“William!”

“They are though.”

Some people were assholes. And there wasn’t much you could really do about it. 

“William, what do Dad and I always say to you? When they go low, we go…”

“Lower!” came Mulder’s voice from the kitchen. 

Good lord, Scully thought. 

“We go high,” she said with a little more emphasis than she normally might have put into it. 

Mulder wandered over to lean against the wall where the kitchen met the living room. There was a steaming mug in his hand. 

“There’s something to be said for a well-timed knee to the groin,” he said.

William looked from Mulder to her earnestly. “I like Dad’s idea.”

“Dad’s idea is going to end up getting you suspended,” she said to her son, but swung her head to glare at Mulder. “Will, you know we have to be careful,” she added softly, turning back to the boy. She reached out to squeeze his knee.

“That’s not fair either,” he grumbled. At this, he stood, swiped his backpack off the floor and marched up the stairs. Scully could feel his frustration and waited for his bedroom door to slam, but he closed it quietly. 

“That was less than helpful,” Scully said, turning to look at Mulder, who pushed off the wall and flopped down into the chair that William had just vacated. He handed over the mug in his hand. He’d made her a cup of tea.

“They’re picking on him because he’s different,” Mulder said. 

“The less attention he pulls to himself, the better, Mulder, you know that.”

“My solution ensures that they’ll leave him alone.”

“Not necessarily,” Scully said. 

“And what would you have him do?” Mulder asked. “Scully, you know his powers are harder for him to control when he’s upset. The more we let these kids pick on him, the more likely it is that he’s going to go off on them. In a way that’s a lot more disruptive than a trip to the principal’s office.”

Scully sighed and leaned back into the couch, rubbing a tired hand over her eyes. 

“What if I talk to the other kids’ parents? Explain what’s happening?”

Mulder took a turn to sigh, himself. “Half of them won’t believe that little Joey could ever, and the other half are going to knock some heads together which will only make things worse for Will.”

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“What should we do?” Scully asked earnestly. 

“I could show up to drop-off tomorrow strapped.”

“Carrying your Glock to a gun-free school zone is a wonderful idea. Why didn’t we think of that before?”

Scully’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Mulder, but he remained silent with a thoughtful finger to his temple. When Scully blew a raspberry and put her feet up onto the coffee table, Mulder reached forward and pulled her boots off, digging his thumb into the aching arch of her nearest foot. She groaned in rapture. 

“We could move again,” Mulder said as he worked his magic. “Or try homeschooling.”

“He’d be miserable,” Scully said sadly. “He likes this school. We like this school.”

It was their third school in five years and by far the best of the lot. Which it should be–they paid enough in tuition. 

“We could talk to his teacher. Talk to the Head of School.”

Scully sighed. “I think we’ll have to. They’ll have to do something.”

Mulder switched feet. “We’ll figure it out.” 

Scully closed her eyes and felt the day’s stresses evaporate with each deep swipe of Mulder’s thumb. They would figure it out. They always did. 

“If that doesn’t work,” she finally said, eyes closed and head resting on the back of the couch. “I’ll pretend not to notice if you teach him a few moves you learned at Quanitco.”

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #prompt #asks #funfetti

[rubenhopclap]

out of curiosity what's the moment being a hardcore Ruben stan really clicked for you

Really good question, thank you for asking.

I enjoyed when he was onscreen, even on first watch, but that's not exceptional. Brennan does great voices etc, he's a very funny presence, but all this can apply to Gertie, or a billion other NPCs. His art is so huggable, but that wouldn't be it on its own.

He kept growing on me slowly every time I went back through scenes to fact check and he was there. Even when we actually had the episode where we found out about Jace's involvement in his life and the confrontation with Henry, I got more engaged with his character but I wouldn't say I reached my full tipping point quite yet.

But what happened was, there were a couple posts where people thought it might be a trick, and that Henry was being inappropriate. Jace snapped because he was under stress, but ultimately he wasn't wrong in telling Henry to butt out, kind of thing.

I don't want to shame anyone for having that idea, it's a mystery season and I think it's normal and fine to reach for possibilities that stretch what's likely sometimes. But ya know, I went back through the scene to double-check my memories, and get the quote about Jace saying that he didn't even read all of Henry's concerns. (Which I feel like made Jace pretty clearly Wrong in that scene, even if he had turned out to just be a shitty teacher/administrator and not Ankarna-connected.)

And as I was again going back through his scenes and he kept growing on me, I was making more posts about him and realizing how few other people were posting about him in the tag. I got to thinking about it, like

"well hang on, we have this character with a great design. he's presented a lot like the emo equivalent of Zayn's caricature of gothness in season one. they've already investigated and found out he doesn't have a history of being toxic to anyone even though he's famous now and has the opportunities. and we just got huge evidence that the 'maybe some of the RGs are being manipulated and actually fine' that people wanted for Oisin in particular might actually be true for him."

and my first instinct was to check myself and go like "well remember just bc you're super invested in small NPCs doesn't mean anyone else would be, he's actually very minor and has little screentime-HANG ON A MINUTE. he's had more screentime than any other Rat Grinder! So then why-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" And idk something about this kid who had more people going "maybe his uncle is evil for trying to protect him" than "oh damn we just found out he needs to be protected" made me go you know what. if nobody else is gonna take this corner of fandom than somebody gotta

And I rolled up my sleeves.

#fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #ruben hopclap #rat grinders