#they’re working their way through the child abuse list

[ickypuppi3]

they really assassinated two characters for one dumb side plot. like. i’ll never be able to take Karen seriously again. i was rooting for her before that mess.

LITERALLY

like she was a pretty alright mum from what i remember? she was there for mike and nancy and i felt bad for her with the whole ‘ted being a crappy husband’ thing

but as soon as the character in their mid/late 30’s tries to get in a 17 year olds pants? fuck that

i genuinely can’t watch any scenes of her anymore without thinking about it

and what purpose did it actually serve like-

billy died

she never had to take accountability

and it was never mentioned again

just fucked up all around

#billy hargrove #tw karen wheeler #stranger things #asks #a real fucking slap in the face to people who relate to that situation too #man i HATE THE DUFFERS #what the actual fuck #they’re working their way through the child abuse list #trying to tick each one off #for what #shock value #a shitty reference #?? #i say it again #fuck. the. duffers.

[marchoftimes]

I want to hug every person out there with a harsh moon-saturn aspect. A person with this aspect likely went through some hardships in areas of childhood; especially in regards to the relationship with their caregiver/mother. Their caregiver (usually the mother) could have been emotionally distant therefore being unable to provide proper nurturance a child needs. Maybe the mother herself was dealing with her own emotional distress during her pregnancy or after the child was born. I’ve also seen people with this aspect (including my own experience with this aspect) who had a caregiver that struggled with some sort of addiction or that the child was a witness/victim to some form of abuse. Facing poverty is also something that’s commonly seen. Because of the lack of warmth in their upbringings, this could heavily impact one’s sense of self worth. They end up internalizing the mother’s actions/words or lack-thereof believing that the reason their caregiver is so distant (whether it be emotionally or physically) or acted that way towards the child was because of something they had done.

Building solid and healthy relationships for these people is quite difficult as well. They have to learn how to accept other people’s warmth and nurturance and allow others in. Because it’s so foreign to these people to be on the receiving end of things, they could entirely self sabotage or have this innate belief that they’re unworthy of recieving another’s loving gestures. Many moon-saturn people feel that they need to take on the role of both the mother and father and step into a place of needing to be responsible for everyone and everything. They are often the most mature within their families and amongst their peers. They need to realize that it’s not their job to carry the weight of the world and that they’re only responsible for their own words and actions. They often have very depressive thoughts that causes them to dwell or deeply ruminate. Sometimes they have very rigid perspectives and see things through a black and white lens and have distorted beliefs. It’s almost like they have a weighted blanket covering the mind, and a chain wrapped around their heart. Because of their commonly cold upbringings, these people have a hard time healthily expressing their emotions. They may often feel numb or scared to express how they really feel.

Some common misconceptions people make about these folks is that they’re incapable of being emotionally open, that they’re cold and have no heart or that they’re too in their heads (the last one might be true lol). These people haven’t been dealt the greatest cards and they need to establish a sense of trust within themselves and between them and the other before they feel open to express how they’re truly feeling. They’ve build walls around themselves to keep their heart protected. You won’t be able to win their trust easily, it takes time (saturn). They likely care about you but are reluctant to showing it because they fear rejection or dismissal. Many people also think these people are boring or are somewhat robotic. Moon-saturn people likely weren’t allowed to act on their childlike qualities or really delve into their interests due to growing up so fast because of the kind of environment they experienced in their upbringing so their expression is somewhat diluted. These people are silly and have a side to them that is playful and lighthearted and they have incredible interests that they usually express when they’re by themselves. It takes time for them to fully open up; it requires patience.

Here are some things a moon-saturn person can do to work with and hopefully overcome this harsh aspect:

Therapy (CBT, DBT, Trauma therapy, Somatic therapy).

Allow yourself to do things you weren’t allowed to do as a child.

Work on reframing the mind.

Work on getting out of scarcity mindset.

Do things that bring you joy and make you smile/laugh.

Write a gratitude list.

Talk to trees/plants/animals. They’re the least judgmental of all living things.

Create a space that’s comforting for you.

Journal.

Develop a healthy sense of self worth (You can use affirmations, express yourself how you want, tell yourself you’re deserving of good things, meditating, practice self compassion, accept yourself for who you are, etc.).

Get a ESA/service pet.

Write letters to yourself.

When faced with difficult situations, find the lesson within them.

If your family adds stress to your life, set boundaries with them or fully cut them off.

Find community (there’s community all around).

Write down the beliefs you have about yourself and look at them from an objective POV. Recognize how harmful they might be.

Work on your relationships. If you have friends and they’ve stuck around, there’s a reason they’re still there. Open up and allow them in. The right ones will stay in your life.

If in a romantic relationship, openly express your love for that person. Don’t hold back.

Make time once or twice a month where you and your partner can sit and openly discuss how you guys feel within and about the relationship.

Eat a hot meal.

Find new hobbies!

#moon square saturn #moon opposite saturn #moon #saturn #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #m

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Hand That Feeds

Pairing: Ettore (High Life) x f!reader (physical attributes such as large breasts and alternative appearance described) Warnings: DEAD DOVE; DO NOT EAT. Mentions of child neglect, prostitution, substance abuse, death, murder. Dark and obsessive behaviour, attempted sexual assault, sub/dom dynamics, male masturbation, smut. Word count: ~3.7k

Summary: Ettore is used to having to take women by force - it's how he ended up on death row, and now a suicide mission in outer space. However, when a fellow crew member catches his eye and becomes the object of his twisted fantasies, he soon learns that the touch of a woman feels more satisfying when he's made to work for it. Based on this request.

Author's note: For @orcaunionleader. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Ettore screws his eyes shut. Strapped into the seat of the spaceship as it hurtles upwards, plunged suddenly into darkness when the lights fail, he feels trapped. It must have been twenty years, at least, since he has felt so vulnerable.

His earliest memory is sobbing as he is shut in the cupboard, the pitch blackness terrifying and too much to bear, but the sight of what he sees when he bursts out is so much worse.

The man on top of his mother, the noises they’re making, he feels strange, a combination of wanting to watch but also a churning in his tummy that makes him feel unwell. He retreats back into the dark, closing the door and hugs his knees to his chest until it all goes quiet again. 

Ettore soon learns it is better to enter a room head first - if he is able to see exactly what is happening then he knows quickly whether it’s safe to come out, or whether he needs to retreat. Not placing his entire body in the way reduces the likelihood of being grabbed, hit, shouted at.

There’s a different man each time, and every time they leave there’s always money on the bedside table of the small studio flat, and his mother is asleep. It’s then that he crawls into bed beside her, cuddling into her warmth, tracing his fingers over the marks that litter her inner elbow creases.

He doesn’t recall his mother ever having hugged him, when she is still like this is the only time he is able to get close to her, and he wraps his arms around her until the rumbling in his stomach gets too much to bear. He is always hungry.

His bare feet crunch against spilled Rice Krispies on the dirty kitchenette floor. Sometimes there is bread to eat, if he picks around the mold, sometimes there isn’t. He sees through the window that there is a place across the road that his mother goes to every few days. She always comes back with glass bottles that clink against each other in the plastic bag, but sometimes there is bread, and less often there are Rice Krispies. He likes those, though he often spills them.

The hunger pangs in his stomach grow so bad he begins to cry. His mother no longer feels warm when he cuddles against her. He is not sure when she last woke up, why she won’t wake up now. Maybe she is just really tired.

He can see the place where she goes to get food from the window, it is not very far, perhaps she’ll wake up by the time he gets back, and so he wanders out of the flat, not closing the door behind him, and walks across the road.

Ettore’s eyes light up the moment he sees the familiar blue box of Rice Krispies, clutching it tightly in both hands. It’s only then that he looks up into the horrified face of the woman standing over him, unable to comprehend why she’s looking at him like that, as she takes in the sight of the malnourished, barefoot child before her, wearing only a t-shirt and a dirty nappy.

There are a flurry of adults around him after that, and he’s taken to live somewhere else. He never sees his mother again. He hears the phrase “non verbal” used a lot, and learns that someone of his age should be able to speak. He doesn’t know how to, and so slowly he is taught how to communicate with words.

Even when Ettore has mastered the power of speech, he prefers not to use it. He finds watching people is far better than talking to them. Most people tend to talk a lot even when they have nothing to say. He prefers the quiet.

There are lots of other children his age at the facility he’s placed in, but slowly they leave, one by one, when adults come to look around. He never leaves though, he supposes it has something to do with the way he has overheard the staff describe his eyes as “haunted” and how strange it is that he has no interest in playing. Grown ups don’t want to share their homes with children that aren’t happy. Ettore doesn’t feel he has much at all to be happy about, when he curls his lips into a smile it feels strange against his face.

As Ettore grows older, he learns of what actually happened to him. His mother had been a heroin addict, she had prostituted herself to fund her habit, and he had been a victim of her extreme neglect. She had died of an overdose and he had laid beside her body for days, until his own hunger had gotten the better of him and he’d wandered into the local corner shop in search of food. He feels nothing upon finding this out, if anything he yearns for the simpler time of huddling against the warmth of his mother as she’d slept off her fix. No one will touch him now, he craves physical contact but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

He’s placed into a foster home when he’s a teenager, though it is a placement that’s short lived. The woman has a daughter, she’s a similar age to Ettore and he longs for her touch. He knows all too well from the way that she squirms under the intensity of his gaze and leaves the room whenever they are alone together that the feeling is not reciprocated.

To Ettore it does not matter. He always waited until his mother was asleep before cuddling her, he reasons that he can simply do the same here. And he does just that; waiting until night falls and the house is quiet, he sneaks into her room, laying down upon the bed beside her.

He breathes in deeply, a delicate floral scent filling his nostrils as he runs the tip of his nose over the softness of her hair. His fingertips creep beneath her pyjama top, and he exhales a shaky breath at how silky smooth her skin feels to touch.

It’s then that she wakes up and lets out a loud scream, he topples from the bed, startled by her outburst and her mother rushes into the room. That is Ettore’s first and only foster care placement, another term is now used to describe him; “maladaptive”.

But he takes away a valuable lesson from the situation - if he wishes to touch a woman then he needs to ensure she stays asleep.

He watches couples with resentment, knowing that no woman will ever kiss or caress him with any semblance of love, not willingly anyway. Women don’t want men that are haunted and maladaptive, but that’s fine with Ettore. If it’s not freely given then he knows precisely how to take it.

Ettore preys upon those that are fumbling with their keys in the lock as they try to return home, women under the influence who spend just a little too long on their phones while trying to get a cab, and the ones that walk hurriedly towards their cars in empty, darkened parking garages.

He moves slowly, carefully, his body only moving in sync with where his head is looking once he’s certain of the target he’s selected. He is unhurried in his movements, and so he goes utterly undetected until it’s too late.

It starts as simply knocking them out and then using their bodies however he sees fit, but it  rapidly escalates when he accidentally kills one of them, it happens twice more before he’s finally apprehended.

He doesn’t try to fight it, pleads guilty in court and is sent to prison. Even with good behaviour, his sentence is such that he’ll be elderly before he’s ever free. But any opportunity for eventual freedom is snuffed out when he gets into a scuffle with another prisoner.

Threats of solitary confinement hang heavily over him as he’s dragged away, and something inside of him snaps. He won’t go back to being locked away in the dark, he can’t. So he lashes out, and as he’s stomping upon the guard’s head he is reminded of the crunching of Rice Krispies beneath his feet from when he was a child.

The death penalty doesn’t exist within the United Kingdom’s judicial system, but he knows he’s being served a death sentence when he is given the news that he has been assigned to board a spaceship with other prisoners on a mission to extract alternative energy from a black hole. There is no coming back from that, he’s not foolish enough to believe otherwise, yet he readily accepts it. There is no other alternative for him, truthfully, there never has been.

When the lights eventually flicker back on and they are alerted they can unfasten their seatbelts, Ettore finally opens his eyes, looking at the prisoners that are seated around him. He’s surprised and intrigued to find there are women as well as men on board. He hasn’t encountered a woman since being sent to prison.

The scrubs they are given to wear are baggy and conceal much of their bodies, so to his disappointment he is unable to admire the feminine curves of the women on board - except one. She is shorter than he is, the remnants of a long since faded colour adorns the ends of her hair. Both her arms are full sleeved with tattoos. He wants to tear away her uniform and see what other artwork decorates her flesh. If he were a normal person, he’d strike up a conversation and ask, but Ettore is not one for words, so he simply stares, watching her every movement as a silent storm builds inside of him.

Though she is slenderly built, he can clearly see the way the baggy top half of her clothing curves over the ample swell of her breasts. His eyes linger there whenever he passes her in the corridor, picturing what it would be like to run his hands over them and squeeze their softness.

It’s these thoughts that are the cause of his every visit to The Box, the ship’s masturbatory aid. It’s used gratuitously by all crew mates, as sexual conduct between prisoners is prohibited on board, so he spills over his knuckles every chance he gets, imagining it’s inside of her. Would she claw at his shoulders and slap at him to get away, or simply lay still and take it?

Occasionally he deposits a sample into a plastic cup, taken away by Dibs, a supposed doctor on board who seems to be the main authority figure. She never fully explains what is to be done with his specimens, but once he has taken the reward he’s provided afterwards - usually a sedative - he cannot find it in himself to care.

He has heard whispers that she is conducting fertility experiments on the ship, attempting to artificially inseminate the female inmates. If that’s the case, he is thankful that his involvement is far less invasive than theirs must be, but ultimately it’s not his problem. He keeps to himself, ever watchful of those around him.

At least there is structure and routine; he goes to sleep and wakes up at the same time each day, participates in mandatory exercise regimes, eats regular meals and is assigned maintenance work duty.

Getting to know his own schedule means becoming familiar with other people’s, and that includes her’s. There is a sense of both excitement and comfort in knowing exactly where she is and exactly what she’s doing at all times.

The first time he encounters her coming out of the Box, he’s struck by how beautiful she is, pupils dilated, skin glowing with a light sheen of perspiration, her lips slightly parted as she attempts to calm her breathing. The heady aroma of her arousal lingers faintly as he goes in after her and he has never come harder in his life than he does on that day. He makes a point to go in after her every day after that.

If she were any other woman and these were any other circumstances, he’d have forced himself upon her by now, but they are in a confined space together and there’s no way for him to act upon his urges without there being almost immediate consequences for it. Every day it feels as though a coil inside of him is wound tighter, and every day he is left wondering if that will be the day when it finally snaps and he brings everything crashing down for both of them.

Despite his internalised conflict, she seems utterly unperplexed by him, which is confusing for Ettore. He is used to women regarding him with unease and disgust, so for her to be completely unphased by his presence is disarming. She is a criminal too though, he reasons, and for her to have been served what is effectively a death sentence she must have done something terrible. The thought makes her all the more alluring to him.

He is on cleaning duty today, tasked with scrubbing down the shower tiles. He enters the showers slowly, deliberately, unable to hear water running, so assumes that there’s no one in there.

But then he spots her, her hair wet and sticking to her bare shoulders, the tops of her breasts just about visible. She hasn’t seen him, yet. His eyes roam slowly over the greyscale body art that adorns her arms and thighs, wondering if there's more hidden beneath the towel that clings to her svelte figure. 

Absent-mindedly his fingers move over the triangular motif that's tattooed on his right forearm; though the scar is no longer visible he still feels the indentations of teeth. If he closes his eyes he still remembers the way that girl had fought, biting into his flesh as he'd wrapped his arm around her throat. He can never recall their faces, but he remembers the marks they left upon him - each one now covered by the same tattoo - a target so that he never forgets - a slash of a broken bottle against his bicep, acrylic nails gouging into his neck. They're never quite strong enough, though they fight to the end. He wonders if her ink serves the purpose of covering or reminding, what sinister deeds have led her down a path of such finality. He intends to find out.

Her head snaps up to look at him and he sucks in a harsh breath as she makes eye contact with him. She doesn’t scream or shy away, simply returns his unblinking stare and his fingers flex at his sides, mouth running dry as he considers whether he’ll need to silence her or not.

“Like what you see?” She whispers, letting the towel fall slowly away.

Ettore remains unblinking, though he feels shaken to his core on the inside. He drinks in the sight of her bare flesh, her full rounded breasts, the dip of her waist, her curvaceous hips, feeling his cock twitch in his scrubs.

What the fuck is she playing at?

“Fuckin’ cock tease,” he spits out, before turning and walking away to the Box.

He reaches his peak embarrassingly quickly, brow furrowed and jaw slack as sweat rolls down his temples.

Once the feeling of euphoria has worn off it is replaced by anger and confusion. Had she been trying to get him into trouble? Did she actually want him? Was she making a mockery of him?

His mood darkens at the thought and as his mind races after lights out that night, unable to find sleep. He slips out of his bunk and walks slowly, silently, along the corridor towards her cell.

He can see the outline of her body beneath the covers, and is suddenly unsure of what he came here to do. Torn between wanting to lunge for her, grab her by the throat and make her pay for her earlier indiscretion, or simply slip beneath the covers beside her and allow his hands to roam freely, he stands and does nothing, watching her.

“Come inside, if you want,” she calls out quietly to him in the darkness, making him startle, “bunkmates are all sleeping.”

Ettore hesitates, remaining rooted to the spot, unable to believe that a woman is actually inviting him into her space, that she wants to be near him.

“You gonna pussy out again like you did earlier?” She questions playfully.

He feels embarrassment flush his cheeks and allows it to propel him forward, over the threshold, into her space. He won’t let a woman get the better of him.

She shuffles back against the wall, lifting the blanket and patting the space beside her.

He hasn’t laid beside a woman since the night he was kicked out of his foster placement for getting into bed with the host’s teenage daughter, the only other times before that were when he huddled beside his passed out mother.

Ettore swallows thickly, not wanting to show weakness and quickly slips in beside her.

She smells of the ship’s standard issue soap, yet somehow on her flesh it has an utterly different scent, it’s sweet and intoxicating and has him longing to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He inhales deeply, feeling himself grow hard from her proximity and the warmth of her soft skin against his bare torso.

Apparently she feels it too, as she eagerly snakes a hand between them, palming at him through his shorts. 

A woman has never touched him like that before, not willingly. Usually he’s the one in control. It feels too much, too fast, bile rises in his throat and he jerks away from her, stalking silently back to his own cell, shame blooming hot and heavy in his chest as he feels tears burn beneath his eyelids.

What the fuck was that?

For the first time in Ettore’s life a woman had wanted to touch him, and he’d freaked out and run away. Does she not realise what he could do to her, what he’s capable of? He is supposed to inspire fear, not lust.

He wants to storm back to her cell and smash her head against the wall. She’s made him feel weak, inferior, yet despite that he can’t shake the feeling of her hand between his legs.

Unable to help himself, he waits for her as she exits the Box the next day, the telltale signs of her having just climaxed etched all over her features as she steps out. Her expression hardens when she sees him, rolling her eyes and side stepping him, until he grabs her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere.

“Let go of me, Ettore,” she says threateningly.

“How d’you know my name?” He asks, pulling her close so he can stare down into her eyes.

She smirks. “You’re not the only one that can skulk around the ship finding things out. Dibs left your file out the last time she had me up on the table, so I snooped. I know your name, your blood type, your sperm count–”

“Do you know what I’m serving time for?” He narrows his eyes as he asks this.

“No, I figure if we’re gonna explore whatever this is,” she gestures between them, “it’s better we don’t know that about each other.”

Ettore scoffs, quirking his lips as he eyes her carefully. “And what is this?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. Clearly you’re not comfortable letting me touch you…yet. So how about you touch me instead?”

He keeps a neutral expression, despite the surprise he feels once again that a woman would willingly let him touch her. “How would that work?”

“You’re about to use the Box, right? Take me in. Touch me while you touch yourself.”

Her words send an aching pulse straight to his balls and he nods, walking into the Box, not checking to see if she’s following. He knows she will be.

“Take it off, take it all off,” he orders quietly, gesturing to her clothes.

She pulls off her top and slips off her bottoms and his gaze rakes appreciatively over her form, only this time his hand slides into his trousers as he does so, his hand wrapping around his steadily hardening length.

Her lips are parted, eyes wide as she stares up at him, her breathing almost matching the intensity of his. Tentatively he leans down, inhaling her scent. The sweetness fills his nostrils and something inside of him snaps.

Pulling his erection free, he moves his fist over it in quick, aggressive strokes, biting at her pulsepoint, before moving his lips downwards towards her tits, pressing his face into their soft warmth, mouthing at them without restraint.

True to her word, she doesn’t touch him, keeping her hands balled into tight fists at her sides, though he can tell she is desperate to reach for him, her breaths erratic as she arches into his touch.

His stomach muscles contract, pressure building at the base of his spine as droplets of pre-cum help to guide his rapid, successive jerks of his cock.

Reaching between her legs, he groans at feeling how wet she is, a combination of her previous orgasm and how aroused she is from what’s currently happening between them.

He buries his face in her chest, sinking two fingers inside of her. There is no scratching, no slapping, no disassociating. She is soft and pliant against him, willing, and as often as he has fantasised about taking her by force, this feels better than anything he has ever experienced previously, better than anything he could have imagined.

As the pressure reaches its apex and he finally climaxes with a groan and a shudder, releasing white hot ropes of his seed across her lower belly, she reaches up with shaky, tentative hands to gently run her fingers through his hair.

“Good boy,” she coos, “did so well for me.”

He sighs, leaning over her, resting his head against the wall behind her. Next time he wants to sink inside of her, to feel what it’s like to be touched, wanted, needed. Because as haunted and maladapted as he is, as he opens his eyes and stares into hers he sees that she is too. Her darkness plays well with his, and in a cold and sterile environment Ettore has finally found the warmth he’s always craved.

#ettore x reader #ettore #ettore x you #ettore x y/n #ettore smut #ettore imagine #ettore high life #ewan mitchell #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #ettore fan fic #ettore fanfic #high life #high life fan fiction #high life fanfiction #high life fanfic #high life fan fic

[ofstoriesandstardust]

dry lightin’ cracks across the skies (those storm clouds gather in her eyes) (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)

a/n: if you’ve read this far, you came for the fun cowboy times and now you’re staying here for the miscommunication and angst. enjoy. 

summary: Rooster overhears an argument never meant for his ears.

-

Or: the morning after. 

title comes from carrie underwood’s “blown away”

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | storm warning story description | storm warning masterlist | cause if i say that i miss you, i know that you won’t | forget what you’ve been told

folks who wanted to be tagged: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @abaker74​ @shanimallina87 

warnings: miscommunication, angst, implied/referenced sex, very very brief mention of death of a parent, implied child abuse, this is the heart and soul of this story right here

word count: 1,915

The first he thing he hears is the chirping of the birds and the incoming morning sun causes him to stir. He groans, rolling over and reaching out for the warm body he expects to find next to him. Blinking, he sits up as his hand finds nothing but empty sheets. Noting a scrap piece of paper left on the girl’s nightstand, he shifts, reaching for it. 

Cowboy, 

Headed out to the stables to help out with the morning work. Come join me if you wake up before I make it back. 

He smiles at the note, setting it back down on the furniture, shifting up so he’s leaning against the wall. He looks around the room, taking it in fully for the first time. She’s got posters up, different momentos from phases of her life hung up on the wall. Some stray movie ticket stubs, a coloring sheet, and even an award from riding that must’ve been from when she was younger, based on the year listed. 

On the wall, she’s got a few photos scattered around, some with the ranch hands he’s met over the last few days. He recalls how she mentioned almost all of them grew up together, the families who worked on the ranch being incredibly close. There’s another from what seems to be her high school graduation and another of what he suspects to be her childhood horse. 

He sighs, shifting the sheets off as he begins the search for his pants he tossed haphazardly off last night, much more interested in the girl under him. 

He finds them under the bed and as he pulls them out, he also drags out a discarded picture frame. He moves to put it back, since it’s most clearly not meant for his eyes but-

Is that Hangman?

He flips the wooden frame (not dusty at all) over, noting the fact that both Hangman and his girl look much younger in the photo. They’re both laughing, clearly carefree, as Jake’s dressed in graduation attire. His girl is dressed up nice, smiling an ever-bright smile. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hangman smile that wide. 

His stomach feels unsettled as he puts the photo back under the bed, where it’s clearly been intentionally placed. Sighing, he stands up, pulling his pants on. He twists, finding his shirt a few feet away and he tugs it on, remembering that his jacket is placed over the arm couch. He makes a note to grab it on his way out, since it’s got his phone in the breast pocket. He swallows, looking back to the note one more time. 

If there was something he needed to know about his girl and Hangman, she would’ve told him. He pauses, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair. Right?

He stands up from the bed, moving down the stairs, passing in the living room to grab his jacket. He can hear the chatter of Bob and Phoenix with Madison and Tyler in the kitchen, dishes clanging and the smells of breakfast wafting through the house. He slips out the front door and begins the walk around the large house. He treads out to the stables in search of the girl, wrapping the jacket around him tighter as he notes the deep chill in the breeze. He really should find her and convince her to maybe come take a shower and settle in for the day. 

She shouldn’t even be working with that concussion of hers. 

Probably shouldn’t be having sex either but...

Just as he’s going to turn the corner into the stables, he hears her voice float out with the wind, and there’s enough anguish and hurt in her voice to make him take pause. 

“-know what you want from me here.”

“Oh, like you’re innocent in all of this.”

Well, two voices. 

He takes a shaky breath as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

He shouldn’t stop and listen to this, this is clearly a private conversation, should make himself known, but- but he’s wondered. Speculated. Maybe now’s the time to get the truth. 

“I never should’ve let Madison and Tyler convince me this was a good idea.”

“What, seeing me that bad?”

She lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, it actually has been. You, of course, haven’t stopped for one moment, to consider what all of this has been like for me.”

“For you? Oh, it hasn’t seemed to me like you’re hurtin’ all that bad, considering you’re running around with one of my friends!” 

Hangman’s hidden Southern twang is sharp in his words and Rooster peeks around the corner to see what’s going on. “That is none of your goddamn business, Jacob.”

“Don’t fucking call me that. Don’t compare me to him.” 

“Well, you’re not doing that good of a job to prove you’re not just as big of a piece of shit as he is!” 

“Are you still honestly mad at me for leaving? Because the goddamn truth is is that you’ve always been too scared to leave. I have been your scapegoat for years as to why you never got out!” 

His girl huffs, marching over to Hangman, yanking the hat on his head right off. “You don’t deserve to wear this. You’re no more cowboy than any of your pilot friends in there. You lost the right to wear this a long goddamn time ago.”  

Hurt digs at his soul as he grimaces, flashing back to the night before. 

His hands slid up her jeans easily as she straddles his lap, taking the cowboy hat off her head, placing it on to his own. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Hangman roll his eyes, earning a smack upside the head from Phoenix. Hangman’s actions hadn’t kept his attention for more than a fraction of second as she cupped his face, keeping his eyes locked with her. “My cowboy.” She had whispered, pulling him into a kiss. 

“-you know what, I should’ve known you wouldn’t care. You gave up on me a long time ago.” 

He realizes he’s missed a part of the conversation as he comes back to the present and he waits with bated breath for Hangman’s response to the words, waiting to hear another fiery slew of insults. 

He should step away, intervene, shouldn’t be here-

“What- Of course I still care about you. I still care about you, love you just as much as I did the day I left. I’ll accept that I’ve done a shit job of showing it, but you can’t say that.” Hangman’s voice cracks somewhere in the middle of the sentence as the breath gets knocked from his chest. 

He’d wondered-

And here it was, the truth, staring him dead in his face. 

She was Hangman’s ex after all. And apparently, he still loved her. 

He turns on his heel, not wanting to hear anymore of their conversation. Not waiting around for the happy couple to get back together. 

-

Your chest heaves as you stare at your brother, wanting to find the nearest horseshoe and chuck it at his head with all your might. “You’re joking.” 

He groans, running his hands through his hair. “Why is that so hard to believe? That I might’ve always cared?”

You think for the first time in your life you might truly understand the expression seeing red. “You must not have loved or cared about me at all the day you left, considering you left me alone with our piece of shit father!” He stands up from the stray stack of hay he’s sitting on as you turn your back to him, wanting to get away from him, from this argument, and go find Bradley. Get a hug and not think about your brother for five minutes. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Away from you. I’m walking away, just like you did.” You toss over your shoulder, not stopping for one second. 

He calls out your name, but you ignore him. “Kid, c’mon, don’t do this. Let’s talk this out, once and for all.” 

That’s what makes you turn. 

“You don’t leave people you care about behind.” 

You tone is ice-cold as you look him in the eye, a strong breeze sending a chill straight through you. You turn your back to him, continuing your walk towards the house. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t hear him follow you as you continue the movement, desperate to get away from him, desperate to find some comfort. Your heart is thudding in your chest with anger, but as you slip through the back door, offering a small smile to Phoenix and Bob, you feel the anger melt into something more raw. 

Pure hurt. 

“You okay?” Emma asks from her post at the table. She’s watching you carefully and you find that everyone’s paying a little too close attention for your comfort. 

“Fine. Is, um, Bradley here?” 

Bob nods slowly, eyes flickering to Phoenix before looking back at you. “Yeah, came in a few minutes ago, looking kind of upset.” You frown, wondering what had gotten to Bradley or what he’d been doing out wandering around the ranch by himself. 

“Weird. He just go upstairs?” Bob nods and you move, slipping past Coyote, who’s just opened the kitchen door. You walk up the stairs, coming face-to-face with the brunette just as you round the corner. He sighs, taking a step back from you as the two of you stand at the top of the staircase. “Hey.” 

He shifts. “Hey.” 

“I saw Bob and Phoenix, they said you looked kind of upset. Everything okay?” 

“Fine.”

You swallow, the tears pushing their way to the surface as you finally relax, finally comfortable enough to let your guard down. “Look, I haven’t really been-”

“You know, you could’ve told me?” You pause, looking at him closely as a spark of confusion flickers in you at his words. “Could’ve told me I never stood a chance rather than leading me on and letting me make a fool of myself.” 

“What- What are you talking about?”

“Whatever weird game you’ve got going on between you and Bagman, that’s between you and him. Just leave me out of it.” He shoulders past you, moving back down the stairs, leaving you in the dust. You take one look at his retreating figure and walk the few feet to your bedroom door, slipping inside. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The storm of emotions raging inside of you is making it difficult as the raw anger, hurt and confusion threaten to overwhelm you. 

As you move back to your bed, your foot catches on something and you glance down to the frame you’d intentionally tossed under there just a day prior. The first tear slips down your face as you take in the picture. 

His high school graduation. It’d been the last time you saw your brother for a whole decade. You’d had no idea at the time the photo was taken but by the time the sun rose the next morning on the ranch, he’d be gone. 

And now, whatever he’d done, whatever he’d said to Bradley that made him angry with you, had just cost him any chance he’d had at fixing his relationship with you. 

Not that there was much of one anyways, you think bitterly as you sit on your bed, the tears overtaking you. He couldn’t even be bothered to come to his own mother’s funeral.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fics #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fics #storm warning

[munstysmind]

I’VE GOT YOU - STEPPING UP - AN ORIGINAL SERIES

WARNING/S: language, mentions of child abuse, police, underage drinking

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

STEPPING UP MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

“Hey Bee” Henry says, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he stirs the beef and vegetable stew currently cooking away in the slow cooker. He’s been looking forward to this all day, even baked some fresh sourdough to go with it.

“Uncle Hen… can you… come get me… please?” Poppy, his 16 year old goddaughter, gasps between sobs, making his stomach go cold.

“What’s wrong sweetheart, what’s happened?” he asks, quickly putting the lid back on the crockpot and switching it to the ‘keep warm’ setting as his heart starts to race. If something’s happened to his little bee…

“Mum n’ Dad… hate me… kicked…I can’t...” she stammers, sounding like she’s barely able to get any air, making him panic even more.

“Pop, sweetheart, I need you to stop and breathe for me, I can’t understand you…” he tells her, trying to keep his voice as calm as he can so she doesn’t panic even more.

He lets out a quiet breath, relaxing slightly when he hears her starting to take long, deep breaths

“That’s it Pop, good girl… talk to me, what’s going on?” he asks, starting to look around for his wallet and keys. He could have sworn he put them on the kitchen table after his run this morning.

“Mum and Dad… kicked me out” she tells him, making him stop in his tracks.

“They what?!” he half yells in shock. There’s no way she just said what he thinks she did.

“Uncle Hen, they called the police… I’m scared” she whispers, her voice cracking. It makes his heart break as anger boils to the surface. He’s going to kill her parents.

“Poppy, I’m coming. Stay on the phone with me sweetheart” he says, finally spotting his wallet and keys on the buffet in the corner of the dining room.

“O… OK… please hurry” she begs as he grabs his keys and bolts out the door.

“Poppy!” Henry calls out as he opens his car door, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d spent the 15 minute drive to get to her filled with rage, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

He can’t fathom how, or why, her parents could do this.

“Uncle Hen” she cries, pushing past the female officer standing in front of her and racing over to him, leaping into his arms.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, you’re ok” he tells her, cradling the back of her head as she buries her face in his neck and breaks down.

“Please don’t let them take me Uncle Hen… please” she begs, holding onto him in a vice grip.

“No one’s taking you anywhere sweetheart, I promise” he whispers, rubbing her back as he watches the female officer from before slowly making her way over to them.

He prays she doesn’t say he can’t take Poppy home with him.

“Hi, I’m PC Daniels” she says quietly, looking at him with a sympathetic smile as Poppy lets out shuddery breaths, trying to calm herself.

“Henry, Poppy’s godfather… what happened??” he asks, running his fingers through Poppy’s hair and gently massaging the back of her scalp the way she loves.

“I’m not exactly sure. My partner and I responded to a call of a domestic dispute and when we got here she was on the front steps hysterical. My partner’s inside talking with her parents now”

“They don’t want me anymore” Poppy mumbles into his neck before resting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him, her face all red and puffy.

“Oh Bee” he says sadly as he gently sets her down, brushing her hair out of the way as he looks at her heartbroken face, all red and swollen from crying.

“I… I got home from football practice and Mum and Dad told me to pack my bags and get out. They’re done, they don’t want me anymore” she tells him as tears start welling in her eyes again, her chin quivering as she tries not to break down again.

“You’re going to come home with me” he says, wiping the tears away before quickly glancing at PC Daniels out of the corner of his eye and letting out a small sigh of relief when she nods.

“Let’s go get a bag packed” PC Daniels says, giving Poppy a soft smile as she holds her hand out towards her.

She just stares at it for a few seconds before looking at Henry with worry all over her face.

He doesn’t blame her. Her world’s just been turned upside down and she didn’t know what to think

“It’s OK Bee, I promise” he tells her as he kisses the top of her head, his heart aching at seeing her so scared.

She nods and cautiously takes PC Daniels’ hand, following her inside just as her parents come out with another officer.

Henry watches in anger as she shys away from them, almost cowering in fear.

“What the fuck Richard?!” he demands as soon as Poppy is out of earshot.

“Hen…” Richard says cautiously, almost like he’s trying to calm the furious 6’1” man in front of him.

“NO! SHE’S SIXTEEN! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Henry roars, his chest heaving as PC Daniels’ partner steps in front of him, blocking him from getting to Poppy’s father.

“I was out of the house at fifteen, she needs to be independent sometime” Abigail, Poppy’s mother, says with a shrug.

“Are you fucking kidding me Abi?! Your parents neglected you so you’re gonna do the same to your daughter?!” he snaps, his blood pressure rising by the second

“It’s not neglect” Abigail replies definitively, crossing her arms.

“Oh I’m sorry, I worded it wrong. CHILD ABANDONMENT!” he yells, making Abigail stumble back in shock at Henry yelling in her face.

“Hey! Don’t you dare speak to her like that” Richard snaps, making Henry let out a low growl.

“OK, let’s take a step back and calm down, I really don’t want to have to arrest you” PC Daniels’ partner says, quietly enough that only Henry can hear him.

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother Abigail, and you Richard… I don’t even know who you are anymore. Don’t bother coming into work tomorrow, you’re fired. This friendship is over. You disgust me” Henry spits towards the man he’s known for over twenty years as his daughter comes out with a large duffel bag over her shoulder.

“Hey Kal” Poppy says quietly, kneeling down and fussing over the Akita bouncing around excitedly at the appearance of one of his favourite people.

“You hungry Pop? I made that beef stew you love” Henry says as he sets her bag down in front of the entry stand before putting his keys and wallet in the tray on top.

“No” she says quietly, shaking her head as her stomach lets out a loud growl, betraying her.

“Are you sure?” he asks, raising his brow at her playfully.

“Maybe a little” she replies, chewing her lower lip a little.

“Go choose a movie, I’ll be in soon” he tells her, nodding towards the living room.

He watches as she goes and curls up on the couch under a blanket, Kal stretching out next to her, his head resting on her lap.

Letting out a sad sigh, he heads into the kitchen and starts serving up their dinner, looking over at her every few minutes, his heart breaking more every time.

He can’t understand why her parents did what they did, she’s an amazing kid. He’s beyond proud of the young woman she’s becoming.

“Uncle Hen” she calls out, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yes sweetheart?” he says, looking over at her curled up with Kal.

“Can I um… can I have a drink?” she asks cautiously.

He pauses for a moment, thinking. Normally it’s her dad that makes this decision… but now he’s her dad, kind of. He’s the one responsible for her.

He looks back at her as she chews on her thumbnail and realises just how much he wants a drink too.

What harm would one glass of wine do?

“One” he tells her, opening one of the overhead cabinets and pulling out a bottle of Sophie, his fiancée’s, favourite red.

He finishes dishing up their food before opening the bottle and pouring each of them a glass, as well as an ice water.

“Don’t tell Soph” he tells her with a wink as he carries everything over and sets it on the coffee table.

“It’s our secret” Poppy says quietly, smiling at him.

She gently shoo’s Kal off the couch and gets the smaller bowl of stew, stirring it round with her spoon and dipping a piece of fresh sourdough into it before staring at it.

“You gotta eat Pop. It doesn’t have to be much but you need to have something” he tells her, watching her as she dips the piece of bread again.

“What did I do wrong?” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“You have done nothing wrong, you understand me, absolutely nothing” he tells her as he gently wipes her eyes, his heart breaking that she thinks this is her fault.

“Then why?” she asks, looking at him, her eyes full of fresh tears.

“I wish I could tell you Bee but I don’t know, I’m so sorry” he says, kissing her forehead.

“I don’t wanna go back, if they change their minds, I don’t…” she says quietly, biting her lower lip to try and keep her tears at bay.

“You don’t have to. You will always have a home with me Pop, always” he tells her, meaning every word. He will do everything in his power to make sure she doesn’t have to go back to her parents.

She nods at him before biting into her bread, letting out a small hum as she chews. She’s always loved Henry’s cooking and this is no exception.

They eat in silence, neither one of them really paying attention to Shrek playing on the TV.

It’s one of Poppy’s favourites. Welcome to Duloc normally has her in tears of laughter, but not tonight. The world’s funniest joke wouldn’t make her laugh.

After a while she puts her half empty bowl back on the coffee table and picks up her wine, swallowing it down in a few mouthfuls before slouching back against the couch and hugging her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small as she can.

“Come here” he says quietly, holding out his arm. She quickly slides across the couch and curls into his side, letting out a content hum as he wraps his arm around her.

“Thank you” she whispers, trying to snuggle closer to him.

“You never have to thank me for this. I’m always going to be here for you, as long as I’m breathing I’ll be here, I promise” he tells her, pressing a few kisses to the top of her head before turning his attention back to his food

It’s not long before she dozes off, making him smile when she starts making quiet noises. She’s done it for as long as he can remember, mumbles nonsense in her sleep.

“Pop, sweetheart” he says quietly, rubbing her upper arm as she stirs.

She lets out a grumpy whine and looks up at him pouting, annoyed at being pulled from her sleep.

“Let’s get you to bed, you’re exhausted” he tells her, trying not to laugh at how cute she looks.

“Can I stay with you… just tonight??” she mumbles, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Of course you can, come on” he says before helping her up and guiding her to his room, Kal following closely behind them.

TAGLIST @aussieez @rookiemartin @babeyyemor @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @chickensarentcheap @dhoruwolfie @themaradwrites @cali-nyc5 @darsynia @wherethewitchersare @wewannasaygoodnight @sweetbunnyliddle @kingliam2019 @sillyrabbit81 @angelcavill66 @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1

#munstysmind #stepping up original series #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #oc: poppy greenstone #original series #original character

[ninja-muse]

As you might know if you saw my review the other day, my December felt very slumpy even though I read a lot of good books. I suspect this is because of book hangovers and working a busy Christmas retail season. (I also didn't write much because I kept coming home too wiped to think.)

But it was a good month! I managed to get to a couple new releases that I really wanted to, and I knocked a lot of books off my physical TBR because none of my ARCs looking interesting. I did have a DNF again, though, of a book that I was really hoping would be great. Isn't that always the way?

I also had two rereads! One because sometimes when you're at a loss to read, you pick up Pratchett, and one because I'd promised myself I'd get to it this year and dash it, I was going to! Weirdos of the Universe, Unite! was one of the most seminal books of my childhood, and it wasn't until I reread it that I realized just how much it was. I saw a lot of my personal attitude to life in Maddy, it was probably my first true urban fantasy even though there's a whole act on a spaceship, Baba Yaga is there as a very cranky but practical sort of witch…

As for my book haul, I just want to say that it was Christmas and I didn't actually buy anything? My parents came through with some really oddball picks, as I'd expected, my sister gifted me one of her favourite reads of the year, and friends helped feed my T. Kingfisher addiction. (More on that in my yearly wrap-up.)

But the book I'm most excited to have gotten is Hogfather, and not because of the pretty cover though that's a bonus. It is, in fact, the most astounding misprint I've ever seen and I couldn't pass up a chance at a free copy. I mean, how many times do you find a beloved book in which the entire thing is bound backwards?! Thank goodness the publisher didn't want it back, is all I'm saying.

And that's probably about it! I have no idea what book I'm going to start 2024 with, because I sort of read 200+ pages of Persepolis Rising last night so I could knock it off my list and now I'm recovering from the binge.

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

A Power Unbound - Freya Marske

Jack, Alan, and their friends must find a hidden artifact and foil a plot. This would go better if Jack and Alan got along.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (gay, bi man), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay, bi woman, lesbian, genderfluid) 🏳️‍🌈 author

All the Hidden Paths - Foz Meadows

Velasin and Caethari are still feeling out their relationship when they’re summoned to the capital and almost immediately find themselves targeted again..

7.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (mlm), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (mlm), mute secondary character, cast of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 author warning: anxiety, aftermath of trauma, dubious consent

Last Chance to See - Douglas Adams with Mark Carwadine

A bumbling science fiction author travels the world in search of endangered animals.

7/10

Illuminations - T. Kingfisher

Rosa wants to help her artist-magician family, but instead she accidentally releases a creature bent on destroying them!

8/10

Lovecraft Country - Matt Ruff

Two Chicago families in the 1950s become caught up in a world of cults, ghosts, monsters, and magical danger. Fortunately, they’ve had lots of practice at mistrusting white folks.

7.5/10

primarily Black cast

warning: depicts Jim Crow-era racism, including slurs; also abusive family dynamics

Persepolis Rising - James S.A. Corey

Thirty years on, the system has achieved a new normal. So of course one of the colony planets decides it’s time to shake things up.

7.5/10

very racially diverse cast

Remarkably Bright Creatures - Shelby Van Pelt

A cleaner at an aquarium mourns her losses. A young California man seeks his absentee father. The resident octopus tries to bring them together.

7.5/10

Jamaican secondary character, Korean-American secondary character

Ragnarok - A.S. Byatt

A child in wartime discovers Norse mythology, and the ways myths and the world reflect each other.

7.5/10

warning: animal cruelty and injury

While Idaho Slept - J. Reuben Appelman

Four students are murdered in a single night, and what came before and after.

7/10

warning: violent murders

Monstress, Volume 3 - Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda (illustrator)

Maika finds temporary refuge from the people chasing her, but the local leaders want a favour in return.

7/10

one-armed protagonist, cast of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic), Taiwanese-American author and Japanese-American illustrator

Reread

Weirdos of the Universe, Unite! - Pamela F. Service

Mandy and Owen get assigned a mythology paper, but then the characters they pick start coming to life and insisting they have a great purpose.

Black secondary character, Indigenous secondary character, Chinese secondary character

warning: somewhat lazy depictions of Indigenous and Chinese people

The Unadulterated Cat - Terry Pratchett with Gray Jolliffe (illustrator)

A humourous celebration of all things cat.

DNF

The Undetectables - Courtney Smyth

Someone’s committing Occult murders and a crack team of Occult investigators has been called in. Or, they’re totally going to be the crack team someday, at least.

main character with fibromyalgia, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian), fat secondary character, Chinese-British secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author

Currently reading:

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle Victorian detective stories

major disabled character

warning: racism, colonialism

Stats

Monthly total: 11+1 Yearly total: 128/140 Queer books: 2 Authors of colour: 1 Books by women: 6 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 7 Rereads: 2 Books hauled: 8 ARCs acquired: 2 ARCs unhauled: 2 DNFs: 1

January February March April May June July August September October November

#books #book reviews #reading wrap-ups #stacks of books #read in 2023 #book recommendations #rec lists #my photos

[frankenkyle19]

Okay I have roughly 22 requests right now that I am slowly slowly working through. My motivation has been shit lately but I did just put out two quick headcanons and am planning on finishing up the fics I’ve already started. List below so you can see what we’re working with:

Tate Langdon:

•Virgin Tate- in progress •Tate x fem!reader oral overstimulation (fem receiving) -in progress

Kit Walker:

•Kit x fem!reader who passes away in the asylum (mega angst) •Kit x reader where it’s basically the same storyline as with Grace. Reader gives birth to Kit’s child, the child gets taken away and reader and Kit try and comfort each other

Kyle Spencer:

•Kyle Spencer one shot where he has a gf prior to the bus crash and it’s her reaction to the aftermath

•Franken!Kyle x fem!reader where reader is struggling with body dysmorphia and Kyle comforts her-

•Franken!Kyle x fem!reader angst/comfort one shot where reader celebrates the birthday of their deceased younger sibling and Kyle finds a way to comfort her-

•Franken!Kyle headcanon x reader who shows him real love and affection

•Needy  Franken!Kyle x male reader (smut)

•Franken!Kyle x reader sick day where they’re both sick at the same time

•Kyle x male reader fluff- 

Jimmy Darling:

•Sub!Jimmy Darling x dom reader (smut)

Kai Anderson:

•smut with kai anderson x fem reader where kai wants to punish her for misbehaving

•a softdom!Kai Anderson x fem!Reader smut where he’s her first time and he’s super sweet and caring to her and like calms her down when she starts bleeding or feels pain

•precult!Kai x reader where he gets sick, but he has “middle child syndrome” and gets confused when reader takes care of him… like… I get all your attention? That’s a thing?

•Pre-cult Kai Anderson opening up to fem!reader about his abusive home life with his toxic dad.

•Pre!cult Kai- he calls her panicked the night his parents die and that night he has nightmares… like reliving that moment over and over again and it’s super angsty and comfort

•Cult!kai being absolutely exhausted planning his hits and all and he starts neglecting himself and his s/o notices that and she’s like “aight, bed. Now.” And she takes care of him like brings him something to eat, tucks him in bed, back and head rubs… the whole package.

•Cult!Kai angst where the reader doesn’t know about his adderal addiction and when she finds out she confronts him and he’s all there opening up to her now that she knows and it’s all just angst and comfort

•Reader being Kai’s emergency contact so they call her after he gets himself beaten up 

•cult!Kai x fem!reader it’s their first time falling asleep together and they’re cuddling but she gets overwhelmed because she’s tricked herself into thinking people don’t  want her around. Angst and comfort 

Mr. Gallant:

•Mr. Gallant x male reader smut

[tea-cat-arts]

(Disclaimer incase some of y’all don’t have the “Honkai spoilers” and “Genshin spoilers” tags blocked: This post will contain some pretty major spoilers from both games. Also this post is more of a repeat shower thought of mine than a proper analysis)

Something I find… disappointing about Mihoyo’s writing is that it only ever seems to be people who are already in positions of power and authority who get redemption arcs, where as characters who were genuinely just forced into these terrible situations will get villainized and killed off.

Examples:

Ei, leader of a nation and a god, hunted down poor and middle class vision holders (technically a minority group) and stripped them of their will or killed them if they resisted, but the story goes out of its way to show us her grief and hardships, which are supposed to make her worthy of redemption

Dr. MEI, main leader of her era, committed way too many war crimes to list here (main one being experimenting on soldiers and sending them to their death without their consent) and defunded or distracted at least two of the leading scientists working on alternatives, but the story frames her actions as noble and a necessary sacrifice

Otto, part of a ruling lineage and leader of a government party, also committed too many war crimes to list here but we’re gonna focus on the part where he kidnapped and tortured children for science, was given a story the centered around showing us his humanity, motivations, and good intentions/ outcomes

Sirin/HoV one of said children Otto kidnapped and tortured, lashes out and attacks the ones responsible for her pain and those who defend them. Killed off

Kevin, literally just some guy pulled off the street who stepped up when nobody else would, took on a task that was way too big for him to handle, watched almost all his friends die, watched as he was powerless to stop the world from being destroyed, and went along with a desperate and incredibly dangerous plan that he hated, but thought was the only way to prevent what he already lived through from happening again. Deemed a monster that has to be killed

La Signora, a young village woman who’s lover died in a pointless war between gods, had her home destroyed, turned her body into liquid fire, and joined the side that was looking to take down the people who caused her all this pain. Presumably killed off probably not gonna stay that way though so we can come back to this one in a couple years

Some potential exceptions to this trend/ less straightforward examples:

Fu Hua and Kujou Sara (arcs handled similarly, so I’m lumping them together). Though they are both technically leaders, they aren’t by any means the one in charge. Their motivations, reasoning, and potential for redemption is established incredibly early on and the story is quick to show us that even though they’re on the bad guy team at first, they have noble intentions. They also spend the majority of their time in the story actually doing the leg work to prove they’re a good guy

Scaramouche. Though he is technically the child of a god, he’s still a parental abuse victim and the story repeatedly puts him in positions of powerlessness and servitude. He also spent the majority of his life living in poverty. Though he hasn’t exactly been redeemed for his war crimes yet, the story is giving him a chance to work for it

The grand sage. Example of a corrupt person in power we actually did get to take down. Though it should be noted that the story frames it as though that power was never rightfully his in the first place

Idk, it’s not enough for me to go and try and accuse Mihoyo of anything, nor am I trying to say that all these stories were handled poorly (and yes, I’m fully aware that a lot of my descriptions were oversimplifications of the canon). It’s just a pattern that I’m side-eying Mihoyo for. A trend that does make me straight up go “hey, Mihoyo, what the fuck-“

Why is every scientist tampering with human biology and evolution depicted as some puppy-kicking lunatic? Why does the story focus so heavily on demonizing their areas of research and acting like those are the problem, not the fact that they’re committing several OSHA violations? I know I’ve ranted about this point before, but I just find it incredibly strange

#honkai impact #genshin impact #honkai spoilers #genshin spoilers #the Kevin nonsense broke me guys #I’m tired of Mihoyo’s bullshit #I wouldn’t be surprised if this trend was the result of censorship #but some of the characters they choose to villainize genuinely hurt #I’m not as well versed on the sirin lore as some of y’all so if I missed something feel free to add on #it’s 2am and I am very tired #so I apologize if I’m not making sense #it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for awhile and I wanted to get it off my chest #man I don’t even blame Kevin for going a little insane. I would too if I lived through that

[ereemos]

my not-so-comprehensive list (very personal 3am opinion) on books about how to deal with someone with bpd (i’m sure this is applicable to other conditions)

it’s very difficult to deal with a mentally ill oved one, and no matter how much suffering they’re in, the pain it causes those around them is not to be discounted.

this pain can stem from not understanding certain behaviours, fear for their loved one’s wellbeing, seeing someone act violently towards others or themselves, powerlessness, etc.

i whole heartedly believe that these people deserve support too, and that their experience is valid and important to verbalise.

either way, sometimes this can be taken to the extreme, where the person suffering for their loved one starts feeling like “the real victim” and this creates extra stigma, this post being about bpd, an already incredibly stigmatised disorder (both in and out of the medical community).

how do i support my loved one with bpd, or find resources to help myself get through this situation, or understand my loved one better, without falling for evil-bpd-manipulator-woman-propaganda?

look no further! i’ve read enough bpd self help book for loved ones, to be able to tell you what to look out for. i’m sure there’s good ones out there, haven’t seen a single one though ! hah! (only because my mum buys them btw, i promise they exist)

WHAT TO LOOK OUT FOR … in a shitty book

- “most cases of bpd are caused by childhood trauma, but not your child, you are a good parent” books that use this sort of language seem more like they’re trying to reassure someone who is, most likely, a contributing factor to their child’s bpd

when the book is more about self help than it is about therapy… any book framed as self help, i’d stray from. you are not qualified to talk about bpd in this setting.

when the actual victim seems to be treated as an abuser, or written about like an annoying ex who won’t stop texting you, miiight be a sign someone doesn’t care about how people are treated, just wants to make their readers like they need a cuddle.

when they start talking about wanting to expand bpd criteria and diagnosing bpd in minors - why are you talking about this in a self help book - you’re spreading medical misinformation by mixing official diagnostic criteria with your own personal (BIASED) theories, seems like every patient you don’t like has bpd…

w hen the main “how to help a bpd sufferer” is just “give up on trying to help them, they’ll never amount to anything, think about yourself” HUH

too much personal judgement . you’re writing about a disorder .

look at the authors bibliography! are they self help authors who have written nothing other than “how to leave your ex boyfriend behind” “how to be happy in 10 steps” or maybe actual doctors whose mainstream published works include “how my bpd wife ruined my life” “the real victims of bpd” etc???

personal pet peeve, but people talk about bpd patients as only being women. rubs me the wrong way, especially, with the bod/hysteria parallels.

emphasis on either fixing the patient or cutting ties with them/ letting them live an unfulfilling life “because that’s just how they are”

(tl;dr keep away from self help books, as a society we have moved past the need of self help book-capitalism--self-affirming-pseudo therapy)

RESOURCES TO HELP YOURSELF OR A LOVED ONE WITH BPD

DBT !!! there’s so many free resources out there, exercises, pdfs etc, its really worth looking into!

research BPD on your own, looking at multiple sources, both medical and personal experiences, and remember that if you’ve been abused by someone with a cluster b personality disorder, that doesn’t make everyone with the same illness a monster

readings that emphasise on how to deal with situations (still, DBT is useful for this), how to de-escalate a meltdown by behaving empathetically, protecting your peace and your loved one’s, rather than trying to “fix” them.

it is important to hold people accountable for their actions: people with bpd are people, not just victims. Having tough conversations w sufferers can be hard. consider contacting an actual therapist, when things are too much to handle.

there is no shame in going no contact if the person is genuinely abusive, or dealing w them is beyond your abilities. you are not their psychiatrist.

keep in mind that psychology and psychiatry and constantly evolving, and what is a diagnosis today may be laughable in 10 years time ! (just look at the history of bpd)

this post was specifically written for my mother but i just had to put it out there i hate self help books i hate them it’s so much worse than telling me “have you tried yoga?” because yoga actually helps, unlike self help books, which are making psychology and mental illness a big soup of buzzwords to pick out and capitalise on! hmm what will it be today? narcissistic abuse? how to handle your autistic child? soooo sick and tired . stop making money off of me. give me money if you want but stop exploiting disordered individuals.

thanks for reading, sorry for the long post/ramble, it’s 3am

#rant #self help cult #bpd #self help #self help books #borderline personality disorder #cluster b #dbt #bpd vent #anti self help #actually bpd

[tiptapricot]

Some extended MCU MK system headcanons!

I’m probably going to be adding a couple more peeps/expanding on stuff already here, including coming up with some totally original characters, but the list rn only consists of canonic or semi-canonic alters. Some of my hcs are based on bits and pieces of general fandom discussion and meta, as well as discord convos. Ideas, suggestions, and questions abt anything here are totally welcome, I hope u like my thoughts >:-)

(Characters already in the show have less info as we already see more ab their dynamics and roles, and characters set up in comics will have a note for their source)

Marc

Main trauma holder, having the memories of Randall’s death, their mother’s abuse, and some of the system’s medical trauma

Physical protector of the system in most situations

Name and characteristics/self-perception are based off the body at the time of splitting

Has lots of internalized ableism to work through

Cohost

Positive triggers: Layla, Steven fronting, Frenchie, the Chicago Cubs, pizza

Steven

Emotional and spiritual protector for Marc as well as the system as a whole

Introject/fictive of Dr. Steven Grant from the Tomb Buster movie

During their childhood years he was the one to take their mother’s abuse, but doesn’t hold the memories of it

A caretaker also, often patching up the body’s injuries

Holds the good memories of their mother and father

Cohost

Positive triggers: Egyptology, Layla, Marc fronting, Wham!

Jake

Protector of the body in cases Marc can’t handle, AKA physical threats outside of their mother’s abuse during childhood, imminent life threatening situations when they’re older, and self harm/sui attempts

Also somewhat of a gatekeeper

Is there to get rid of the threat and then get the body to a safe place

Holds the memory of crawling out of the cave

Lives very moment to moment, no clear sense of time passing for most of his life beyond time working for Khonshu or when the others couldn’t front, getting most new memories outside of that from bleed from the others/moments of blurriness

Once headspace forms spends most of his time there

Eventually, once no longer needing to stay secret from Marc and Steven, becomes a more regular fronter, though never really considers himself a host

Positive triggers: leather, cars

Commander (Lemire, 2016)

Supernatural trauma holder/processor

Formed when Khonshu appeared to Marc as a child, and is the one to hold that memory specifically

Was only meant to hold that memory but came out of dormancy when Khonshu made the system his avatar

Introject/fictive of a spaceman version of Marc that Marc pretended to be and drew as a kid

Shares his childhood love for space as well as memories surrounding it

Lives near completely within a section of the inner world simulating a battle with space wolves for Earth, isolated from the rest of the system

Any interactions fronting he perceives as dreams, or a psychic connection to inter dimensional aliens

Started out as a more fragmented piece of Marc, but developed into his own person

Positive trigger: space

Inner Child (Bendis, Ultimate Marvel universe)

A little who both holds the system’s childhood whimsy and adventure, preserving the childhood they lost, and their sense of their mother’s innocence that was also lost

Trauma free

Started out as a fragmented piece of Marc, his younger self frozen in time, and still considers that to be her, but eventually felt more like a girl and presents that way in the headspace in present

The others refer to her as “child”

Doesn’t age

Maintains a passion for many of the things that have been tainted by trauma for the other system members, including rain, swimming, exploration, and make believe play

Doesn’t front often or fully and never by herself (unless Layla is there)

Really loves Steven because he’s got the same name as Dr. Steven Grant!!!

Positive triggers: action figures, puddles, hiking, kids shows the system watched when they were younger, dresses

Mr. Knight (Ellis, 2014)

Emotional protector for Marc and Steven, and physical protector for the system as a whole when Jake is unavailable

Formed off of Steven when he fronted post show during one of Jake’s missions for Khonshu

Holds most memories of accidental discovery that the system is still tied to Khonshu

Not a fictive, but formed with similar vibes to famous British spies and detectives, AKA a very good detective and fighter

Has a very gentle but firm British accent

Somewhat of a logician, but not completely

So calm, collected, and precise that he can sometimes make bad decisions

Never really gets ruffled or scared, but can get angry

Shares Steven’s suit, though his is slightly different, having a few more moon designs

Wry sense of humor

Doesn’t front much outside of filling his role, and never when the body isn’t wearing the suit, but does vibe in the inner world

Positive triggers: not having the body’s face visible, white cloth, Debussy

Dr. Harrow

Formed post Duat as a maladaptive protector/prosecutor

Was more of a fragment before, holding a lot of the system’s internalized ableism, but formed more solidly with the image of Dr. Harrow

Holds most memories of the system’s medical trauma (though is distanced from it, seeing it from the POV of their doctor), as well as ableist ideas about alter creation/personhood (stemming largely from Steven after finding out he was a fictive in the Duat, as well as Marc’s own struggle to recognize himself as an alter)

Initially is unaware that he is a headmate, very much seeing things as “I’m fine but you guys need help”

Formed additionally as a way to process separating from Khonshu’s abuse, somewhat clinging to/reinforcing ideas that Khonshu pushed on the system of distrust in reality and reliance on a caretaker figure

Continues to harm the system through digging up trauma memories and enforcing harmful ideas because that’s how he’s able to process the trauma he holds

Eventually and very slowly is able to discover and accept his place as an alter in a system, and starts trying to work towards a more constructive role

Is eventually (like after a lotttt of work) able to shift into more of a gatekeeper/organizer role, giving the system structure and support that it needs, and creating a safe internal space for headmates to process trauma memories and their own systemhood

Doesn’t front

Moon Knight (no specific source but is sometimes treated as or referred to as something more separate from other established alters)

A fragment that forms after the system separates from Khonshu, mainly displaying/spreading either feelings of anxiety and hopelessness, or feelings of anger

Formed from a piece of Marc that was always sure he was going to be stuck serving Khonshu forever, and who wasn’t able to move on after that reality was broken

He is solely Moon Knight, dehumanized from being anything else by his perception of being perpetually stuck in the role of Khonshu’s tool

He doesn’t think they’ll ever be free, and views himself as a monster, always stuck in the past, always stuck in Marc’s worst days in the suit

He rarely fronts, and doesn’t interact very often with other headmates, mostly sticking to himself or not really appearing at all, except in moments of either very high distress, or extreme joy at being free, where he can often blur with whoever’s fronting and either increase their anxieties, or pull back their enthusiasm

Jake is the one most aware of him, as he comes close to front pretty regularly while Jake is on missions with Khonshu

General trigger: in depth/extended talk of Khonshu

#my brain has been so full of so many thoughts… #i love any and all ideas of extended MK system stuff and wanted to share the ideas I’ve had #these have been so fun to discuss n think ab w ppl #excited to incorporate em into fic >:-) #moon knight #moon knight 2022 #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #arthur harrow #commander moon knight #the fruit is talking again #the fruit is headcanoning again #mikes mk meta

[wellofhavoc]

Gurofriend evidence stuff:

Conspiracy theories, mass scale accusations, and 9 specific accusations of rape, child rape and cat-murder with zero evidence.

There is no conceivable way every single person they’ve reblogged including random anons personally IRL raped them and have stalked them for 10 years and are all literal sexual abusers.

The weird conspiracy theory is that like half of all humanity are pedophiles, I THINK? And fiction they like is a “textbook” on how to stop it (“gooner” = “porn addict”)

1. https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725402589896851456/there-are-two-subspecies-within-humanity

2. https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725863975932346368/give-the-gooner-psyops-a-rest

3. https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725589979579006976/how-are-you-going-to-get-rid-of-the-pedos-by-being

(also accusing an anon AND everyone they reblog from of having “personally raped” them IRL and stalked them for 10+ years)

3. https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725383015053836288/oooh-no-everybody-does-jensen-have-a-tumblr-i

“Satanic panic & alt right pedophilic conspiracies are all real”: https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725374834723389440/what-if-both-of-these-things-were-true-and

“I can tell rapists from vibes alone” (Ie nobody they’re accusing is based on evidence): https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725942283649925120/ppl-acccusing-you-of-calling-innocent-strangers

More personal accusations, including anons bc those obviously cannot have evidence:

They’ve been anon’d by people begging them to stop accusing strangers bc it’s triggering to C/SA victims and they called THAT person a rapist: https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725847968234733568/please-stop-calling-random-strangers-rapists-and

There was this @ someone else who asked them to cool it: https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725558801702535168/hi-its-very-obvious-that-youre-going-through

More accusations just from whoever they happen to reblog from, so nonspecific they’re v clearly based on nothing:

https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725735707155513344/why-are-the-serial-cat-killer-rape-spacebattlers

https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725594448668557312/any-other-catgirls-youre-a-big-fan-of

(Calling a trans woman a groomer and sex freak, classy!) https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725593561789349888/hey-where-is-that-gc-can-you-point-me-to-it-silly

https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725559099530608640/you-are-not-sorry-clearly-because-no-rape-victim

“Literally everyone I don’t like is probably a creep & should die” stuff: https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725376882894340096/nope-lets-expand-that-target-list-there-are

Comments of this post are absolutely insane (like 10+ including death threats/suicide baiting etc, directed at post OP and 2 people in the notes): https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725407673534775296/sure-thanks-for-playing-bye-bye

“I can tell if someone is a rapist from their fanfic”: https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725997512133050368/httpswwwtumblrcomgurofriend72555188844096716

https://www.tumblr.com/gurofriend/725589979579006976/how-are-you-going-to-get-rid-of-the-pedos-by-being

Just posting this publicly having gone through it- Hope everyone else is staying safe. If anyone knows Gurofriend personally, maybe check on them and see if they're okay- Didn't know about them prior to this mess, but from a brief search, I can see they have a lot of friends in the Utena community and seem to have a history of lifting its members up but now they seem to be using the source material (along with those of other fictional works with similar themes) as some kind of justification and base for "trolling" random people who come across their posts.

#the most telling thing that this is just an uncoordinated attack on people and their characters is the fact that #i still don't know what they think i did #gurofriend #havoc blog

[ititledit]

Radfems, this is your sign to put your hand in your pocket this month and support a women's charity. Some UK and international charities listed below, I'd welcome the addition of others!

UNFPA

UNFPA is the United Nations sexual and reproductive health agency. Our mission is to deliver a world where every pregnancy is wanted, every childbirth is safe and every young person's potential is fulfilled.

We promote gender equality and empower women, girls and young people to take control of their bodies and their futures. We work with partners in more than 150 countries to provide access to a wide range of sexual and reproductive health services. Our goal is ending unmet need for family planning, preventable maternal death, and gender-based violence and harmful practices including child marriage and female genital mutilation by 2030

Refuge UK

At Refuge, we support thousands of women and children who turn to us when they’re trying to escape domestic abuse. Help us be there for every woman and child who needs us, by donating today.

PLAN International

Around the world, including here in the UK, girls still don’t have equal rights – and that has to change. That’s why we’re standing with young people as they campaign on the issues that matter most to them, from child marriage and trafficking to street harassment and sexual exploitation at work.

Join the Because I am a Girl campaign

Will you stand with brave girls everywhere?

Girls aren’t weak – they’re braver than you know. Street harassment. Sexual exploitation. Child marriage. They face it all. By joining our Because I am a Girl campaign, you’ll be standing with brave girls everywhere, as they take on the issues that matter to them

Women's Aid

Women’s Aid is the national charity working to end domestic abuse against women and children.

We have been at the forefront of shaping and coordinating responses to domestic violence and abuse through practice for over 45 years. We empower survivors by keeping their voices at the heart of our work, working with and for women and children by listening to them and responding to their needs.

The AVA Project

Our vision: A world without gender based violence and abuse.

Our mission: Working with survivors to end gender-based violence by championing evidence-based change.

Our guiding principles: Survivors are at the heart of everything we do.

Bloody Good Period

Recognising the trauma and anxiety caused by not having access to essential menstrual products; our vision is of a society in which asylum seekers, refugees and otherwise displaced people and their dependents have unrestricted access to high quality, free period supplies of their choice.

BelEve

BelEve is a girl-focused organisation working to transform the life chances of 8-18 years old girls from disadvantaged backgrounds in London. In 2020/2021 we offered mentoring and enrichment programmes to over 1,000 girls. Every £1 donated to our work will make a world of difference to young lives.

Bright futures

Bright Futures are a registered charity (No. 1157578) working with young women up to the age of 25 to give them a brighter future by helping them to tackle some of life’s biggest challenges including substance misuse, domestic abuse, unemployment, poor health and wellbeing, sexual abuse and exploitation.

Asian Womens Centre

The AWRC was established over 40 years ago and is a pioneer of services for BME women experiencing domestic abuse. We have evolved over this period, but our core values remain the same.

The women we serve inspire us to continue our work for the next 40 years, leaving a legacy for the local community and beyond.

#this month i am supporting PLAN #radfems please interact #radical feminism #uk radfem #radfem safe #radfems do interact #radfem #womens charity #womens charities

[grey-sides]

oh that’s great to hear! i was looking through the prompt list from a while back and the angst prompt #11 ‘are you ashamed of me’ screamed harringrove, and i’d love to see what you do with that :)

Hi anon, thank you for requesting!! If you would like this noggin to respond to a prompt, check out the list here and submit one! This is definitely angsty with some warnings for implied child abuse/neglect. And implied homophobia/internalized hemophobia. Please take care of yourselves!

They always meet at the quarry, at night, headlights turned off so no one gets suspicious. Steve had offered, months ago, to climb into Billy’s window, but Billy had shut that shit down real quick. He didn’t care how much like a ninja Steve was, Neil was too observant to ever risk it. So they meet down at the quarry.

But the problem is, Steve thinks that means this is the only place they interact. Like, sometimes Steve will wave when he sees Billy at the same time they’re picking up the kids. He might say hi or ask how Billy’s weekend was like he doesn’t already know. But the quarry is their spot. Billy doesn’t know Steve’s address even. 

Billy pulls up beside Steve’s BMW, the lights are off and the engine is killed and he’s just sitting in there. He’s probably looking out at the lake, getting all sentimental because that’s the kind of guy Steve Harrington is. 

Sentimental as hell, but won’t even take him to a movie to hold hands in the dark where no one can see them. No, the quarry is the only place they can meet up apparently. 

Billy takes a moment, digging out a cigarette to light it perfunctorily. He drags the smoke in deep, staring up at the night sky through his windshield. Steve won’t come over here, he never does. Billy doesn’t get it, Wheeler loves to talk about how clingy Steve can be when she gets drunk. But Steve isn’t clingy with Billy, he’s just…doing this for the sex. 

Billy is supposed to be okay with it, having told Steve that he was okay with it. But it’s starting to weigh on him. What are they really doing anyway? Steve could be swimming in pussy, but he’s fucking Billy and why? For how long? 

Billy tosses his cigarette out the window and climbs out of the car to stamp it into the dirt. He scuffs his boots against the dirt and roughly fixes his jacket. He doesn’t bother to smooth his hair or his eyebrows. He doesn’t care how he looks.

Steve looks surprised when Billy pulls open his door harshly. Billy slides into the seat and slams it closed, crossing his arms. 

“Hey, you alright?” Steve asks, already leaning over the center console, one hand reaching out. 

To do what? Caress Billy’s cheek? To check him for signs of a fight? It doesn’t matter. Billy slaps the hand away. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” Billy demands and it’s not what he wanted to say. He wanted to snap at Steve to fuck him good. He wanted to tell Steve he’s moved on. He wanted anything but this. This is…treading into feeling’s territory.

Steve blinks and pulls back, the light in his car snaps off and they’re plunged into darkness again. “What?” he asks, shaking his head. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” Billy repeats and he turns to look at Steve. He can’t quite see him in the dark of the car, but he probably has a dumb look on his face. His lips are probably parted and his eyebrows are all scrunched up the way they get when he’s working through a hard problem. Billy shouldn’t find it cute. 

“Billy I don’t…” Steve trails off and he turns the car on. He doesn’t flick on the headlights but he does reach up to punch the light on, so they can see each other. He looks exactly like Billy predicted. 

Billy looks away, crossing his arms like a fucking girl or something. Like he wants King Steve to define the relationship. “It just sure seems like you are. Like we can’t even be friends. Like even just knowing me in public is gonna tarnish your reputation.”

Hell, even fucking Byers says more words to him on a daily basis. They sit next to each other in English class and he’ll ask Billy about the assignments and compare notes and complain about Shakespeare. Steve won’t even catch his eye in the cafeteria. 

Steve’s mouth snaps shut and he looks away too, down at his steering wheel. His shoulders hunch a little more because he’s always fucking slouching. His jacket crinkles when he moves his arms. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he finally whispers. 

“Then why the fuck can’t we be friends in public, Harrington?” Billy demands and he’s resorted to calling Steve by his last name because he doesn’t deserve to hear his first name coming from Billy’s mouth. 

Steve shrugs and he lifts his hands helplessly. Like he doesn’t know the answer to that. Like he hasn’t been the one drawing this line, creating this boundary. “Because you- your dad. And my dad.”

Billy doesn’t think Harrington Senior is as bad as Neil. Steve has never once shown up with bruises, but Billy thinks he’s worse in some ways. Neil will hit Billy and when he’s done, he’ll stroke his face and tell him he does it out of love. He’ll buy him gifts and hug him and if they win a basketball game, he’ll even say he’s proud. Neil is a monster. But Harrington Senior…

Billy doesn’t know. He probably shouldn’t assume. But the way Steve drives those kids around and hangs around until the last possible minute. Not looking to go home, Billy can guess. He thinks Steve has a big house and not enough love to fill it. He’s aware that Steve tends to run off well before the cops can even think about showing up to a party. Billy thinks. Well. Steve has said his dad is a Grade A Asshole before. 

“You’re friends with Jonathan,” Billy mutters because he doesn’t know what else to say. “And that doesn’t bother your dad.”

Steve’s jaw clenches and Billy can watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “He doesn’t like it, but Jonathan has Nancy.” 

Steve swallows again and when he opens his mouth, his voice is a little thick. “But you don’t have a Nancy. And neither do I. And my dad…fuck.” He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “It’s so stupid, I’m supposed to be lucky Steve Harrington with all the money and the hair and the girls and my dad thinks I’m a fucking fairy and he’s right.”

Billy’s heart sinks because he’s always so caught up in himself. In the way Neil will react. In moving across the country because Max let a little something slip. Steve’s life seems so idyllic that he’s almost forgotten what it might be like on the other side. 

“Shit, pretty boy, I’m sorry,” Billy mutters and he turns to look at Steve again. “I just…felt like you don’t want anyone to think we’re friends.”

Steve nods a little and pulls his hands away. He crosses his arms across his chest, wrapping his fingers around his biceps. “We can find a middle ground,” he decides quietly. “Because I’m not ashamed of you. But I just want to make it these next two years until I can get out of Hawkins.”

Billy pauses for a second, swallowing whatever dumb shit he was about to say. Two years? Steve was graduating in a few months. 

“Why two years?”

“Because then you can go with me.” 

Billy sucks in a sharp breath and nods, he looks down at his hands. Slowly, he lifts one of them and reaches over to put his hand on Steve’s knee. He squeezes it tight and breathes out. “A middle ground.”

Steve places his hand on top of Billy’s and it’s shaking just a little. He squeezes it in return and gives him a tight smile. “We can be friends. You just can’t come over to mine either. Even if you’re a ninja.”

Billy gives him a tight smile in return and leans over to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Good. I’m sitting next to you at lunch on Monday.”

Steve grabs hold of Billy’s chin to pull him in for a long kiss. He reaches up with the hand that had been on Billy’s to turn off the light. “Then I won’t have to miss you so much,” he whispers. 

Billy sighs into the kiss and leans over the console and not everything is fixed. But he has a deadline now and he has Steve’s promise to find a middle ground and it’s enough. It has to be. 

#harringrove #greye writes #drabble #cw implied abuse #cw implied neglect #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things

[phoenix-descent]

Introduction

Hello there! My name is Lucien and I am a Protector and Gatekeeper of The Phoenix Descent. The Phoenix Descent is a Dissociative Identity Disorder, traumagenic formed system. 

If you’re here, then I’m gonna assume it’s either because you want to learn about DID for yourself, a friend or just because you find it interesting (If not any of that, you probably thought our blog looked dope as hell and you’d be so correct about that.). Well, it’s just your luck that the reason we started this is because we thought that the stigmatisation surrounding DID needed to stop, and what better way to do that than by educating people about it! So, buckle up,  and enjoy the read!

The first case of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), was in 1815, and was that of Mary Reynolds. She was described to have “great fits” and to have been “hysterical.” She would either sleep 18 hours a day, or none at all and would have very large gaps in her memory. 

Before 1980 (when it was first introduced in the DSM-III) Dissociative Identity Disorder was referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder | IMPORTANT - This is an OUTDATED TERM and SHOULD NOT be used to describe DID in the slightest | 

(Okay, I know what you’re thinking. “Lucien, you’re just throwing out a bunch of facts- What is DID exactly?”)

Dissociative Identity Disorder is a disorder characterised by the presence of two or more distinct personality states. Dissociative identity disorder is usually a reaction to trauma as a way to help a person cope. In simple terms, when a child goes through heavy trauma (this be physical, verbal, mental, etc), to protect them, the brain forms what are known as “alters.” These alters (usually) are there to protect the child when the primary caretakers could not (but remember! Parental abuse/neglect/etc is not the only reason for DID to have been formed!). DID results in usual memory loss for (most of the time) every alter.

Alters are all there for a reason! I’m sorry to tell you that they’re not just silly little people in the body’s head (well….some of them are silly little people in the body’s head-). Below are some (not all) of the roles that alters can have, followed by a very brief synopsis: 

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Caretaker: Manages and cares for other alters and sometimes people outside the body.

Gatekeeper: An alter that controls switching or access to front, access to an internal world or certain areas within it, or access to certain alters or memories.

Host: The alter that fronts the most. Usually associated with being the “original” alter, but this isn’t always the case.

Little: Child alters that usually hold the body’s innocence or trauma from when the body was younger.

Protector: Alters who manage rage and anger, and avoid feelings of hurt, fear or shame. Were formed to save the body from intolerable situations.

Persecutor: An alter who harms the body/system, but usually has protective motives 

Trauma/Memory Holder: Alters that hold memories which are usually (but not always) traumatic in nature so that other alters do not have to be confronted by the memories.

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The roles listed above aren't the only ones that an alter can have! I'll get into others in the future and'll probably dedicate an entire post to just alter roles. Alters are not limited to just one role. I myself am a gatekeeper as well as a protector! Alters can take any form, can be any age, and look/sound drastically different than the body.

Alters all come together to create a working....you guessed it; system! Which is where the term comes from!

Dissociative Identity Disorder has been heavily stigmatized especially through media and film. People with DID have been seen as evil and awful. It's important to remember that those with DID are people and are coping with the trauma that they dealt with as children. They aren't praying on your downfall or going to hurt you; they're focused on surviving, so let's take a step back, and remember to treat all people like people.

Signing off, this is Lucien from the Phoenix Descent. I'll be back and don't ever be afraid to ask us questions about anything DID related. Stay hydrated and stay safe! Au revoir!

-Lucien

#dissociative identity disorder #did #mental health #alters #osdd #did osdd #psa #mental health psa #did psa #psa did #dissociative identity disorder psa #mental health awareness #traumagenic system #system #did system #dissociative identity disorder system #anti endo #endos dni #dissociative disorder #osdd system #trauma #other specified dissociative disorder

[aronarchy]

https://twitter.com/butchanarchy/status/1483126895310946304

“If power were never anything but repressive, if it never did anything but to say no, do you really think one would be brought to obey it? What makes power hold good, what makes it accepted, is simply the fact that it doesn’t only weigh on us as a force that says no, but that it traverses and produces things, it induces pleasure, forms knowledge, produces discourse. It needs to be considered as a productive network which runs through the whole social body, much more than a negative instance whose function is repression.”

(Foucault, 1980, p. 119)

Reminder that the very reasons that people will list out to deny that someone is abusive “They’re so nice!,” “They seem to take such good care of their partner/child/friend,” etc. are the very same qualities that make their continued perpetration of abuse possible.

The ultimate aim of abusers is not to inflict violence. Violence is one of many tools an abuser uses to acquire their actual goal, which is attaining and maintaining power and control over someone else. That cannot be achieved with violence alone.

Raw and constant violence without the presence of other tactics like love bombing, manipulation under the guise of care and kindness, fun, excitement, connection, etc. would not make for an effective abuser.

Situations of abuse are systems like any other, or they would not be as sustainable and difficult to escape as they are. Repression and violence inflicted on the victim is intimately intertwined with (manipulative) care and connection. They cannot be separated from one another.

Begin to understand abuse the way you understand how state violence functions. The instances that the State provides services like creating infrastructure, tending to parks, providing healthcare, etc. is NOT separable from its repressive violence via police, borders, and prisons.

Rather, the other things the State offers are the very ways that it gets enough people to submit to repressive violence. That, and it also works to isolate people from one another and their own agency so they cannot get their needs met any other way but to submit.

To survivors of abuse this is familiar. (The appearance of) positive connection and care in world where it is deeply difficult to find, active isolation from other connections that would meet our needs, and violence when we do not submit to control in a way they deem adequate.

https://twitter.com/butchanarchy/status/1418009829684039684

These are the repressive expressions of abuse (notice how accurately you can describe state violence with the same wheel). VITAL to understand, but it is equally important to understand that abuser’s behavior outside of this wheel is what makes their actions within it possible.

An abuser being kind to you or in front of you does not negate their actions as abusive any more than a cop being kind to you or in front of you does not negate their actions as State violence. In fact, it is your perception of them as such that allows them to be effective.

[image ID: photo of Portland police kneeling with protestors on May 31, 2020 /end image ID]

Do you remember how many liberals took cops kneeling as an indication that they weren’t all bad, that they really meant well, that all that was needed was reform to the system? Those same cops gassed, arrested, and beat the shit out of people that very night.

The performance of care, understanding, and solidarity has been the tactic of the state for as long as it has existed. This is not because it is a tactic unique to statecraft, but rather a necessary tool in any kind of relationship defined by domination and control.

It is because those who seek to gain and maintain power and control over others (whether they are an abuser, the State, your boss, etc.) are well aware that they cannot keep their power by total force alone. They require some level of submission to and acceptance of it.

Btw the submission they require is not only that of those who are the targets of violence. Rather, it is the complicity of the bystanders (who also happen to be the ones who benefit most from their perceived kindness) that allow the violence of abuse and state violence to continue.

https://twitter.com/butchanarchy/status/1420144837756522498

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#repost of someone else’s content #twitter repost #butchanarchy #abuse #domestic abuse #authoritarianism #policing #the state

[thequeenofwands777]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗛𝗬𝗗𝗥𝗔 | 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗫 𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗬𝗗𝗥𝗔!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 | 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘: 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗜𝗙𝗧

Synopsis — Captain America; America’s golden boy, and the world’s most righteous man.

He’s known by many names. But never once did anyone think Captain Hydra would be on that list.

Speculations were made, but no one could ever figure out the true reason for his defection.

Until now.

…

A fic documenting Captain Rogers’ indoctrination process into the criminal terrorist organization known as Hydra, and your role in it.

Pairing(s) — Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom — Marvel

Status — in progress. Masterlist Chapter Two

Warning(s) — Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Swearing, Angst, Referenced Past Child Abuse, Canon Typical Violence, Manipulation, Power Imbalance

Tag(s) — Enemies to Lovers, Dark Comedy, Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, Madame Hydra!Reader, Grey!Reader, Grey!Steve Rogers, Mean Steve Rogers, They’ve got history, Improper Use of Formalities, Pussy Power,  I Do Not Endorse Hydra, Let’s Pretend They’re Not Nazis in This, Just Assholes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Author’s Note — Dialogue in italics are sentences spoken in German

The late morning sun beamed down on the snow-covered forest below, threatening to melt it away, and in turn, melt away the steady sheet of camouflage over your base. 

“Viper, what’s your ETA ?” Dr. Faustus, the malevolent doctor that had been appointed by the Supreme Council of Hydra themselves as your second-in-command, asked through the comms. 

You had just been attending a few galas down in the states, selling your values to some very important people, and were on the flight back to the training and recruitment headquarters now. 

“10 minutes maximum.” You replied, before taking another sip of your celebratory champagne. It had been a successful trip. The underlying note of anticipation in his voice made you raise a brow. “...Why?”

He chuckled, making your intrigue spike. “We’ve got a little surprise for you.” 

You cracked a smile, flashing your sharpened canines to the pilot. “Looking forward to it.” 

As soon as the jet landed, you were off. The conversation before had made you impatient, eager to see what they had in store for you. 

The thin heels of your stilettos clicked against the dull concrete floors, signaling your return to all under your command. Some ‘Welcome back, Madame’s from your subordinates followed you down to your destination, the eastern cell block.

“Ah, Dr. Faustus,” You called out to the smug-looking man posted at the entrance doors, who startled upon hearing your voice. You smirked. “Come to welcome me home?” 

He chuckled. “Of course, I’ve even got your homecoming gift all wrapped up the way you like it. ” He said as he gestured with his arm, urging you towards the only occupied cell in the block.

The two of you soon arrived at the guarded cell doors, and strangely Dr. Faustus had yet to explain your surprise. The man abruptly turned and without a word passed you a simple black folder. 

Flipping through its content, you paused on one of the pictures. Labeled as taken just a few hours ago. It was him, he was finally here. “Is that who I think it is?” You gasped.

“Yes, Madame.” He replied, his thick accent bleeding through his english even more than yours did. “ We found him ‘wandering’ around the perimeter a week ago. We had thought we were done for, our operation spoiled.”

As he spoke, your gaze fell onto the photograph once more. He looked so peaceful, no trace of his usual stoicness as sleep smoothed out his features, making his frozen appearance look even younger somehow in the slivered moonlight. You found yourself lost committing to memory every mole and scar marring his warm beige skin. 

“-But the sedative you ordered made worked just as intended, he dropped like a fly. And we’ve found that if you lessen the dosage, containment is possible.” 

You instantaneously snapped your head up in Faustus' direction, hardly able to contain your excitement now. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, Madame.” He smiled smugly, flashing you his rotting teeth, effectively ruining the moment and making your lip curl.

“Faustus, what did I say?” You sighed, dropping your gaze back to the snapshot, no one should have to see that.

His eyes widened and he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, Madame.”

“It’s alright, just let me see him.” You said, eager to see the Captain again.

Inside the cell, Steve had slowly started to regain consciousness. The first thing he noticed were the pairs of hands holding him down by the shoulders, making his padded knees dig into the hard linoleum tiles below him, cold seeping up from the floor right into his bones. A shudder ran through him. 

Steve lurched forward, trying to break free but he only managed to bow his head. A pained grunt left him. He tried to scan his surroundings, but it was no use with the pounding in his head, coupled with the doubling of his vision.

The guards noticed his pathetic struggle and exchanged a smug look. The Captain definitely wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  

Outside the cell’s thick concrete walls, Dr. Faustus sent a nod to the guard before a loud beep rung out and the seals on the heavy metal doors were released.

Steve’s head lifted at the sound of doors opening, squinting at the intrusion of brightness and then watching as two figures broke through it. As they got closer, he could just barely make out their features. 

The first was a well-dressed woman with half of her face hidden behind a curtain of glossy hair, whose wide and bright eye gave the appearance of mania. There was a tall, stocky man at her heels, with a conniving look seemingly etched permanently into his features.

Your heart squeezed at his condition. His hands were in his lap bound with electro-magnetic cuffs, and he was on his knees with two guards flanking him on either side.

“Captain Rogers,” You waited for a flicker of recognition to cross his masked features, a widening of the eyes, a sharp intake of breath, anything. He remained stoic as ever. “We meet again-” 

“Where am I!” He shouted, cutting you off. You sighed but maintained your composure, turning your attention back to the file, flipping to the field report. No matter, in time he will come around.

“We are in a Hydra training facility. One known to most as the Keep,” You shrugged as if what you had said was the most mundane thing in the world. You gauged for a reaction once again. Not even a blink. Interesting. “But you knew that already.” 

The two guards shared a puzzled look, while a restrained smile began to grace Dr. Faustus’ features. The Captain’s eyes widened under his mask. 

You clapped the file shut and walked a few steps closer now, looking down your nose at him. “That’s why you are here, isn’t it? One doesn’t just end up thousands of miles into the German wilderness by coincidence. Correct, Captain?” 

Steve remained silent. 

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. Now, let’s get that uncomfortable thing off, shall we?” You asked the latter with a kinder tone, making Faustus hide a smile. It was common knowledge that his Lieutenant had a soft spot for the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. 

Steve watched as you slowly reached out your hand but hesitated over the buckle of his helmet, as if waiting for his permission to proceed. Quickly you recovered though, unclasping it with strange ease .  

You gently pulled the helmet off before stashing it away under your arm. Steve’s brows furrowed. It seemed even a feather-light touch was pushing the boundaries, so you stepped back slightly. “Better, Captain?”

Steve simply blinked. 

“Secure him and leave.” You ordered, to which the guards complied right away, no questions asked. The sedative still had Steve feeling groggy, giving him no other choice but to comply as well. 

He dropped his head in defeat as they pulled him up to a standing position before connecting his odd-looking handcuffs to a chain hanging from the ceiling. 

You tsked, lifting his chin with your forefinger. “None of that, Captain. You’re in safe hands now.” You whispered after the heavy metal doors slammed shut. 

Steve’s face scrunched up in disgust and he tore himself away from you with a scoff, the chains above him momentarily rattling. “Don’t touch me.”

You simply smiled, taking a few steps back of your own. “No worries, Liebling. We have all the time in the world now to get acquainted.” 

“‘All the time in the world’?” He scoffed again, making you raise a brow in anticipation of his harsh words. “You’re lucky if you get one week with me before my team comes around. And if it’s not them, it’ll be me getting myself out of here.”

“Sure you will,” You said, voice but a whisper. Steve's gaze followed you as you retreated to the cell doors before pausing and looking back at him over your shoulder, unintentionally exposing to him the mangled skin hiding beneath that wall of glossy hair. “If you decide that’s what you really want.” You added, before leaving him to decipher what the hell that meant.

Next Chapter

#steve rogers #steve roger x reader #marvel #madame hydra #x reader #reader insert #hydra #captain america #alternate universe