#which I was willing to do. like. the other schools weren't that far away

[seijorhi]

hey rhi 👋

I’ve been watching a lot of zombie shows lately (ex: the walking dead, last of us, all of us are dead, world war z, zombieland etc. etc)

And while watching all those shows, they always managed to remind me about your zombie fic ‘finders keepers’ which would then lead me to wonder and boil with questions. So if you don’t mind and if it doesn’t trouble you too much, I would like to ask a couple of things ….

1. How did the apocalypse start?

2. When it did start, were they at school and just so happen to group up? Or did they join forces in a different manner?

3. While oikawa and the reader were taking shelter, where were the others?

4. When the reader went out to search for supplies for oikawa, we know the twins were following her, but what were they doing out in the first place?

5. (I might be a lil slow for this, but) Which of the twins killed the zombie, Atsumu or Osamu?

6. Why does inarizaki take in ‘strays’ and what do they do to them? And what do they do once the strays in question want to leave their group?

7. For how long did the twins have eyes for the reader?

8. How far along are they into the apocalypse?

9. How come no one seems concerned with reuniting with family or loved ones?

10. What’s the initial reaction from the inarizaki group when they see that the twins brought the reader to their base?

Well I think that’s all my questions… hopefully. But I know for damn sure that if an apocalypse were to actually happen that I’d be like the reader utterly useless and helpless (but unlike her I won’t have any strong and beautiful men to help or protect me 😔)

I would also probably opt out 😭 (people in zombie shows always have so much will to live and for what?!?!?).

Anyways, I always enjoy seeing your blog and reading yours answers to questions asked by us. I love how I’ll be doing anything in my day, and something (no matter how small it is) will remind me of one of your many glorious fics.

I hope you have a wonderful week and thank you for reading. (Stay hydrated and blessed babe 😏.)

(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

- 🌬️🌫️

okay bear with me

i like to go with pharmaceutical fuck up/virus/pandemic thing à la 28 days later or the walking dead

nah, they were friends before it hit, but even pre-apocalypse it wasn't intended to be a volleyball specific thing

well technically it depends. prior to oikawa being bitten they were on a supply run. in the aftermath, they would've gone back to the school, found it overrun and depending on your own personal choice, either found themselves at the wrong end of a zombie's teeth, or they're trying to track oikawa and the reader down after escaping themselves

following :))

whichever one you think. truly i wrote it and left it ambiguous because 1) the reader couldn't see shit and couldn't determine it herself and 2) it could honestly have been either of them and i found it funnier that way. go with whatever your heart tells you

i like to think that inarizaki actually have more of a 'community'. small, but not just a bunch of guys. considering that there's food, medicine, a fuck-ton of guns and men willing to use them, they're usually pretty happy to stay. loyal enough to look the other way when it becomes clear the reader isn't going to be able to just waltz out the front gate like she thinks

inarizaki (or the core members) were aware that a few people were holing up in the school, weren't too concerned about it. more of a 'keep an eye on it and see if it becomes a problem' kind of sitch. they didn't know that group included a woman, not with how anal the others were about keeping the reader safe and tucked away from prying eyes. it was pure luck that the twins caught sight of her during a patrol, a little while before iwa and the other two left and zombies found their way inside. funny that.

somewhere between 6-12 months. long enough for the world to go to shit and for people to become adjusted to that. sort of

mostly because they either saw their family and loved ones die or they believe the chances they're still alive are slim enough not to pin hopes and dreams on. also in the reader's case because even if she had plans of meeting up/looking for someone, they'd put that shit to bed real quick

honestly i think kita would want to disapprove, but how can he? yes the twins were reckless and yes they should have discussed this together beforehand so they could have planned this, but he can't and won't argue with the end result. the reader wasn't safe where she was, now she is. she'll have access to things she was woefully lacking previously, the twins are satisfied, it's the best solution all round. thanks in no small part to how seijoh 4 treated her, there's no chance she'd survive out there on her own. such a sweet, vulnerable, helpless little thing, how could the rest of them not just want to eat her right up? they are ofc unsurprised by the twins pulling some bullshit, but hey, no one (they care about) died right? win-win.

#i'm sorry i sat on this ask for ages #i just needed to psych myself up for it #and also to go re-read the fic #and then type coherent words #rhi answers #fic asks #finders keepers #🌬️🌫️ anon

[greenerteacups]

hihi i saw you were semi-active on tumblr and figured i would ask if you'd be willing to elaborate a bit on the whole push/pull relationship theo and daphne have in lionheart? i've done a couple rereads but i still can't quite figure out how they feel about one another.

hope you're having a great christmas gt <3

i've got good news and bad news. the good news: you've read it perfectly well, because "can't figure out how they feel about one another" is exactly what's going on with them at any given moment. so this is greatly vindicating for both you as reader and myself as author. the bad news: you have just given me license to talk about theodore nott and daphne greengrass, a dynamic that gets an understandably small amount of attention and yet consumes large volumes of my headspace. so. spoilers ahead!

daphne and theo break my heart, because they're a story in wasted potential. theo and pansy are obviously old childhood friends, but i think daphne is just someone who knew them socially and only really got close to them at school — cf. her conversation with draco at the yule ball — because first year forced theo to make friends who weren't pansy for the first time, and daphne finally had a chance to socialize without her parents coddling her. they get along like a house on fire, pansy rocks up to join them in second year, and this is the cute little nega-Trio draco meets in book 2. it's a fashionable nucleus of dry humor and ferocious mutual protectiveness, which theo demonstrates especially in the hospital wing at the end of book 3.

but theo continues to suffer the chronic condition of Being Theodore Nott, and so when the plot comes knocking, things go south for him expeditiously, especially his personal relationships. daphne develops a crush on him as early as book 3, and being daphne, she's incredibly obvious about it, but being (1) a teenage boy and also (2) an incipient domestic terrorist, he naturally avoids dwelling on it — and then maybe-kind-of-starts-to-reciprocate, because hey huh wait a second you sure do care about this girl a lot, don't you, theodore? — but by that point the war's started revving up in the background and he has Other Shit To Deal With.

it doesn't help that the two of them are being drawn in radically different political directions, partly because of her friendship with draco, but also because of her own choices. theo's mistake here isn't malicious, but he really does ice daphne out (as he does everyone but pansy, pretty much, in fairness) for most of book 4, and by the time he realizes that he could actually lose her, it's too late. probably he doesn't realize how far she's migrating once she drifts out of his influence — daphne is incredibly susceptible to suggestion and is deeply influenced by those around her, which becomes clear once she's transplanted into gryffindor and discovers this much kinder, more chivalrous side of her nature. given that chameleon-quality of hers, it's understandable for theo to be shocked when she pivots away from him and pansy the space of less than a year. but also, I think it's telling that he's that surprised, since daphne hasn't been in good with the rest of slytherin for months at this point. and in turn, this surprise angers her, because like — dude, seriously? forget the romantic stuff; you're supposed to be her best friend, and you couldn't tell that she was doing a Character Arc behind your back? (strains of this feeling heavily inform what she says to draco during the Yule Ball, especially re: theo and pansy being each other's platonic soulmates. she feels locked out, in every sense: from slytherin, from her friends, from her parents, from everything. she wants in on something, and it drives her to do something pretty callous to draco and hermione, as she realizes and regrets. daphne is not always a kind person, even when she's a nice one.)

that anger, and theo's unfortunate failure to do anything useful about it whatsoever — slytherins! purebloods! low EQ! not great at the whole making-amends thing! — is what makes it possible for her to sever ties with slytherin completely, effectively terminating the close friendship she had with him and pansy (who's slightly less reconciled to that separation, but pansy is also much less politically involved than theo both philosophically and functionally, so it's easier for her to double-dip). it's my headcanon that if theo had even 15% less to worry about, he'd be making more of an effort to revive that relationship, but kid is in hardcore Survival Mode for most of book 4, and just knowing that daphne's not in immediate physical danger has to be enough for him. meanwhile, upstairs, daphne is discovering the Life-Changing Magic of Real Friendship, and like, it's kind of a blast? and lavender and parvati are really cool? and gosh now that theo isn't the center of her living universe, isn't it funny how all these tall good-looking boys are wandering around? funny, that!!

this isn't to say that their story is finished — it isn't! there's still a lot of gas left in this tank, and many, many things these two have left to say to each other — but that's where the story leaves us. they were close; there was a real possibility of something, and likely some degree of mutual interest; but the timing was never right, and it's not going to get any easier if things keep going in the direction they are now. (but who knows?)

#lionheart #lionheart spoilers #daphne greengrass #theo nott

[thecameronchronicles]

Guys My Age

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Being Sarah’s best friend has always meant Rafe saw you as off-limits…until you become too desperate to remain as anything but an object of his affection. 

*Based on the song ‘Guys My Age’ By Hey Violet

Even when you dated someone else, you always wanted his eyes on you. His hands. His lips. Even more so now since you were anybody's girlfriend anymore. There wasn't the guilt of kissing your boyfriend only to imagine your best friend's brother or the need to think of him just to get off in any capacity, alone or otherwise. And this was all because of a single moment you had shared that altered the platonic existence you both harbored until then. A single space threatened with romance and lust through a moment's gaze held too long, a dance too close, and a near brush of lips to which he played off as being too drunk. But it lived in your mind since its conception. Specifically the way his fingers were trained to your curves that made you feel perfectly desired yet somehow still in charge of how far things would go. And that was what enraged your libido to beckon him that much further. That dainty touch of kindness and veiled carnality had been more than the most lustful and passionate with anyone else. Anyone your age. And it was enough to risk your relationship with Sarah all to learn her brother's touch…

WORD COUNT: 3000

REQUESTED:

Anonymous asked:

omg i have an idea... could u do a smut based on the song "guys my age" where you're sarah's best friend and you're younger than rafe but u have the biggest crush on him and he likes u back...

*GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS ONE….*

Guys My Age

"You seem different…" Rafe spoke as you walked into the kitchen, his body bent over the island as you made yourself at home opening the refrigerator and removing a cold bottle of water from the side door and setting it on the back of your neck, offering only a shrug as a response as you weren't quite sure how to respond to him. 

"Maybe it's because you don't have that one asshole hanging all over you…The one that smoked too much weed and never left his couch…"

"Maybe…" Your eyes lingered on his, a second too long to be just friends, but always interrupted with the reminder of Sarah’s presence keeping you in these confines. After all, you weren't some new friend from school. You had known her your entire life, which meant you also knew Rafe. When he had braces and before you wore bras, prior to adolescence and that which followed, always on opposite sides of taking that leap to keep complications from rising. And he could do that just as much as you would. At least you could until today. Something was different from the air to the way you were almost egging each other on, and you wanted to push him as far as he was willing to go. 

"Kelce is going to ask you out, you know. Top told me yesterday." The conversation did little to hold your attention as you were otherwise distracted by Rafe's eyes directed to you. The heat of want and the silence of need had been enough to make your lips fight a smirk as you were both well aware of one another and this game. But where he thought of the future and how it was possible he could see beneath that this little bikini teasing him so closely, you thought back to that night. The way his hands fell around your waist, the way he pulled you against him as the music muffled and all you found as a focus had been the synchronicity of your breaths. Overall, the way he made you feel like a woman for the first time in your life. 

"Can you help me?" You asked Rafe as you found him halfway between the kitchen and the pool, resting at the frame but prepared to move at your words. With Sarah having answered a call from Top, you were left alone to the sudden, exciting, but fleeting isolation you found yourselves within. 

"What happened with him?" He asked shamelessly. 

"Honestly?" You bit your bottom lip at how desperately the words teased your lips. You wanted to tell him how nobody got your panties wet like him, how you could only ever come when thinking about him, but you also didn't want to appear desperate or embarrassed yourself it was unrequited. So you would tease this. 

"All he ever wanted was to go down…he didn't know how to touch me…and his friends were always around…" 

"Oh…" He didn't seem surprised by your words so much as the fact that you said them. But his body had relaxed behind you as he straddled the lounge chair and ran the sunscreen lotion beyond your shoulders and down your arms, finalizing on your parted thighs. 

"Was he any good?" You didn't hesitate before shaking your head. 

"You know I'd treat you right…" Those sweet circles on your thigh were now inching higher until his middle finger was at your clit, rubbing over the fabric or your suit as you bit the inside of your lips closed. 

"I would make you tremble before even touching you…tell you how beautiful you were…" His lips came to a rest on your shoulder, a soft kiss to your exposed skin, making your eyes close. 

"Tell you how I'd take care of you exactly how you wanted…"

"Rafe…" One of his hands moved upwards to your breast, teasing the hard nipple already at attention.

"Do you want that? Because I don't feel like guys your age know how to please you…and you know damn well I wouldn't stop until you were satisfied." You nodded. 

"Just say the word and I'll prove it-"

"Yes-" Before you could complete your response,  you were taken into the shed just beyond the pool. In the nick of time as Sarah returned, the door closed with your back pressed against it. 

"Anything you don't like before we start?" He asked, brushing a loose hair from your face, as you shook your head, desperate for his touch. 

"I just want to be all yours." Your words were everything he ever wanted to hear. He showed this in the way he would kiss you. Slow and steady with soft lips contradicting a curious tongue. 

"All mine means every part of you…as I want…" You nodded, eager, almost desperate, as he smirked. 

"We'll start slow…" He moved his hand slowly down your body and to your hips as he spoke, "But by the time you understand what you've gotten yourself into, I'll have had you in ways those boys couldn't imagine-"

"Yes…please…" 

"But we've gotta start slow…don't want to scare though, sweetheart-" But to this, you surprised him by moving onto your knees. He liked hid lips apart for only a moment before setting his palms on the door. 

"I can take it, Rafe…" You promised as you played with his belt until he was free enough to access before ultimately taking him to view. Even his cock seemed more mature, sleek in a way that was anything but in size, as he was solely intimidating. But lucky for him, all the guys leading up to him, which weren’t many, had all been practice for this moment. 

"I want those eyes to me then, baby….keep 'em on me while you choke, yeah?" You nodded, vulgarity altering any former kindness, aa he would wrap a hand to your hair as you took him almost gingerly behind your full lips. 

The second the warm recess of your throat was met, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your ambition and enthusiasm was incomparable as it wasn't necessarily desperate, but it was eager. You knew exactly how to pump and twist, shift and pull, all while doing so in obeying those eyes locked to him. Even as they fluttered or teared, they had still managed to remain. 

He bowed against the door, mouth parted as only one one remained on the wall before him. 

"Keep taking me like that-shit!"

"Mmmm…" 

"Got such a pretty little mouth…look so good on your knees for me." He no longer cared to see those eyes. Instead, he wanted to feel your depth. Almost tethering you to the wall itself, you were taken in aggression as you were pinned between him and the door with only that grip tightening on your hair. 

"You're gonna take it all for a minute. Show me you're ready for someone like me, and I’ll give you all of me, okay?" You nodded, feeling him use you for his benefit. Eyes screwing shut as your nose came to tease his abdomen, you relaxed your throat, becoming more raw by the second, before ultimately being relieved of this pressure. 

"Fuck! You're so good with that pretty little mouth wrapped around me…For that, you've earned my cum in that tight little pussy, not down your throat like some whore…even though…" He brought you back to your feet and pulled you towards the table holding his father's tackle box. 

"Would be difficult to convince anyone else you weren’t…" He hesitated before using his body weight to get you against the ledge of the table. 

"Not that anyone else will ever get the fucking chance to know…" You couldn't fight the excitement across your face at the thought of wholly being his. Even if he wasn't the one to hold your virginity, you would give him everything else. 

"I have wanted this tight little body in my hands for so long…always teasing me…always so beautiful…" He kissed your neck before taking his grip to the backs of your thighs and hiking you onto the surface of the table at the center of the room as you gasped in amused surprise. 

"Bet nobody even knew how lucky they were…didn't know how to make you come by…." He pulled your Top loose in one effortless tug before taking the perfect breast at the rim of hid hand to lift it to his mouth. Tugging on the nipple, he teased it on that border between pleasure and pain before committing to sucking and licking as you mewled and basked beneath him. 

"Goddammit, how the fuck are you so soft?" He groaned. 

"Too soft. Almost untouched. Almost virginal…But I know for a fact with how you are on your knees that you aren't…But nobody has made you theirs fully have they?" You shook your head. 

"Skin should always be layered with marks and bruises…too beautiful to not have the accompaniments…But don't worry, I'll rectify it sweetheart…" Your eyes fought to roll as he pulled you tighter into him. 

"Gonna make you come in every fucking room of this house…got a lot of fantasies of both of ours to fullfill…but first, gotta get anyone else whose made you come out of that pretty little head-"

"Nobody has." You confessed as he pulled back in confusion. 

"What?"

"I've only ever been able to when thinking of you-" He suddenly retracted. His eyes, almost wide with anger, as his expression followed it tightness and surprise. 

"You…you mean mean tell me that you've let other guys fuck you and you thought about me? You've let them touch you and be inside of you and thought of me? Creamed for them when you wanted me?" He was now bent towards you, knuckles on either side of your legs as you nodded. 

"Bet you had to touch yourself just to feel something, hmm?" You nodded, "Well, now…" Your bikini bottoms were untied, a smirk of victory across his face once he realized just how wet you were for him. 

"All you have to do is ask…and I'll take care of you…"

"Please take care of me, Rafe…I want you-"

"How? How do you want me to make you come, baby?" He asked, a finger already penetrating you slowly, making a round to assess your feminine cavern, as you allowed your head to fall back in pleasure. 

"Rafe…"

"Bet nobody knew how to make you feel good this way?" 

You shook your head. 

"Nobody knew where to find-" Your hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist as he grinned wickedly back at you. 

"That spot…Oh yeah…that spot…"

"Oh my God…"

"Not even a toy can get it like me…isn't that right?" You nodded, mouth parting as he made you breathless at how that pull and pressure was deepened by a second finger. 

"Understand something right now. THIS body will be trained to mine. Yeah?"

"Please…Yours." Waa all you could manage as he quickened his fingers, bending and spreading them, before using his palm against your clitoral hood. 

"Yes….Ride my hand baby…let me know how they've let you down…how you know I can take care of you-"

"Rafe…"

"And keep saying my name as sweetly as that….yes…" He approved while marveling you beneath him. 

"Please…please…"

"Wanna come on my hand? Wanna make it nice and wet with all that cum all for me?" You nodded as he used his second hand harder in your hair. 

"You’ll get to... Those moans are making me so fucking hard I'm gonna come just hearing you come, so you get to choose baby…how do you want to come? Hmmm? Show me…" You pressed your hand to his chest and bent yourself over the table in a perfect angle as he cocked his jaw in disbelief. 

"I've always wanted it like this…" 

"Tell me. Tell me how you wanted it. I need to taste you…" He was lowered, eating you out from behind, tongue making lines between your folds, until he dedicated himself to that clit. 

"Taking me because you needed me this way….tearing my clothes off and just fucking me…"

"Hard?" He moaned against your skin as your fingers reached behind you and through his hair. 

"Yes!" 

"Fast?"

"No." He nodded into you. “You were passionate…”

"Then who am I to keep you waiting?" The presence of his cock between your folds would be only a tease before he would commit to the entrance of your sex itself. The second he would press that pressure inside of you, that line was crossed, those lines blurred, and you basked in it. 

"Shit, how the fuck are you so tight?!"

"F-for you…" You explained as he nodded. 

"Good girl. Telling me exactly what I want to hear…"

"I'm yours." He slapped your ass. 

"Mine to mark?"

"Yes!" 

“Mine to make tremble like this?” He asked, hand back to your clit as he brought you back into those familiar tremors. 

“Mine to fuck?”

“YES, Rafe!”

“Whenever?”

“Whenever.”

“Wherever?”

“Yours!” You validated in one final, desperate, breath, before he would pull you up to his chest. 

“I am going to make you come, but if you want to make me, it means you’re mine. Because I only come inside what’s mine…” You nodded, “That what you want?”

“PLEASE RAFE! I NEED IT!” You breathed desperately as he pulled the hand from your hair now around your neck for stability against his chest as his second sat along your hip and across the small space leding your sex, keeping you pinned. 

“Then make me come baby…open up that pussy for me and let me deep inside…let me feel what's all mine now…”

You nodded, relaxing as much as possible, but in doing so, feeling him take full advantage. Fingers in a slow increase to your clit and his thrusts increasing as he groaned and grunted into you had worked in a perfect symphony of pleasure and pain from need, edging, and withdrawal. 

“You wanna come?” He asked, breathless and domineering. 

“Please!”

“Beg one last time for me, sweetheart…” You obliged, doing so before he even needed to finish his request, all while you were left to bask in the way his touch knew your body forever this minute. His touch. His kiss. His breath. His body. Everything worked perfectly with yours as he taught and learned in the same degree, showcasing this in the intricate pull at your clit but the well versed tongue across your bottom lip as you moaned into his kiss. 

“Good girl, you know how to fucking take it, don’t you? You know how to make me come…you know JUST how to fuck me until I come…” He asked through clenched teeth as your body trembled to your release, his words too brazen to keep from spilling over your edge. 

“Your body was meant to be fucked by me, wasn’t it? Say it-” He ordered as you managed to choke out the words as you were taken to that high. But once feeling those walls clench around him, he thrusted harder and deeper, pulling one leg over the edge of the table to validate this, as you were taken back against him. 

“You’re gonna keep coming for me…keep fucking coming and screaming-” You couldn’t fight it even if you tried, your body bucking and shaking into tremors and shifts as you made it to the brim of another orgasm as he was on the edge of his first. 

“So fucking good, deserve all my cum…all this fucking cum for my girl, yeah?”

“YES…Yours.”

“Then take it all, baby…take it-’ He growled in finality, his load shooting deep inside of you as you were taken to that second, overstimulated, release, left trembling as he turned you to face him. 

“You even try to let anyoen else touch you and I’ll fucking kill ‘em…You’re mine now.” He gave a sweet kiss, contrasting his cruel words, as you nodded, watching him leave you in shredded innocence, to which you basked in knowing he finally made your greatest fantasy a reality. But you blushed in wondering how you were supposed to look him or Sarah in the eyes after this. 

Everything had changed…There was no going back…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @belcalis9503

#rafe cameron #rafecameron #rafe cameron smut #rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #outer banks #obx fanfiction #Youtube

[metalheadcowboy]

Turning a Harringrove Cowboy/Farm AU I wrote A LONGGGG time ago into an actual multi part/chapter fic, so here's the first part, enjoy!

-----------------------

It was the spring of '84 when Steve Harrington first decided he hated Billy Hargrove with every damn bone in his body.

The beginning of that spring had been particularly rough in many ways. 

Steve's second senior year of high school was going quite a ways away from great, it seemed like no matter what his old man was pissed off about something or another, the calving season had only just started and it was going straight to shit. Oh, and on top of that, it was hotter than a witches tit outside, a record high in southern Indiana that year, great.

"Gah lee," Steve huffed as he fell flat on his rear, wiping the sweat off his forehead, with the part of his arm that wasn't covered in cow crap and god knows what, "That 'as one big son 've a bitch." The force of his collapse knocked his Stetson hat clean off, but he was quick to recover the rather expensive item he’d received for Christmas not too long ago. 

He slowly collected himself, pushing the medium tan leather down upon his dark, messy waves. He couldn’t help but blink his eyes a few times as he practically panted like a dog to will any form of cold into his body, "Yeah, 'll least this one's livin'," his dad remarked, and he couldn't disagree with that. Seemed like they'd had more still born calves than live ones this season.

" 'Ts only March, we've got a few months," The teen reminded, manifesting at least a shred of hope for the coming weeks. It wasn't that they didn't have calves other times of the year, they were just few and far between. Now was the time when they started raising a good sized herd to sell of at the beginning of next spring to support them most of the year round, besides the practical penny change they made selling their cows milk local, "Good job, mama," he praised the brown and white blotched animal next to him, already akin to new motherhood, licking her almost identical oversized calf like she knew nothing else.

Steve willed himself up off the ground onto shaky knees, this day had been one of his longest in a while. School on top of all the heifers seeming to want to calf at the exact same time. But as he looked past their property line, out into the marvelous bubblegum pink and creamsicle sunset, he found some sliver of peace.

Only the voice of his father snapped him out of his blissful moment of zoning out, seemed like he was doing a lot more of that lately "You best go wash up 'fer dinner, you know your ma ain't gon' have you at the table lookin' that way." He was right and Steve knew it, but he couldn't lie, a hot shower did sound pleasant on his aching joints.

He gave a quick "Yes sir," ending what was probably the tamest conversation they'd had in weeks, before making the short, yet long trek back to their homestead. He could see the lights on in the kitchen and living room, and as he got closer he came upon the silhouette of his mother washing her hands in the kitchen sink in the small window next to their side door.

He trotted up the last few stairs, smiling as he walked through the door to someone just as happy to greet him, "Well, look what the hot mess express brought in, my word sweetie," she said with no real malice, grinning at him like he was her pride and joy, which he was.

"Hi mama," he replied plainly, chuckling softly as she came over and pulled his nearly six foot frame down to her 5 '2 height for a kiss on the side of his head.

His chuckle turned into a full chested laugh when she made a fake gag of disgust, "You smell just 'bout right rank, son. You sure the heifers weren't the ones hackin' it up at your stink?" she teased and Steve just shook his head.

"Had my arm so far up one of 'em I'm prolly 'bout half cow any how," The brunette boy mimicked the struggle sticking his arm up the back end of a cow, to which Annette Harrington grimaced, "That's why I let you boys do your thing and I do mine," she gestured to the kitchen, which is what first alerted Steve to the smell of freshly made chicken pot pie sitting ready on the ceramic countertop. 

His eyes immediately lit up with pure delight, like a kid on Christmas morning, except he was nineteen and to some sad extent pot pie was the highlight of his week, “Mama you didn’t!” he exclaimed, about to go in for a big hug before remembering what he was covered in. 

Mrs. Harrington just shook her head, “Alright, go get cleaned up, the pie ain’t gon’ grow legs.” Within an instant Steve was racing off to his bedroom to grab a pair of pajamas and then to his bathroom to shower. 

And to say he was right would have been an understatement. Steve swore the hot stream of water that cascaded down his spine sent him into seventh heaven, easing out his jammed knee and stiff elbow with ease. 

He enjoyed his escape for about as long as the hot water lasted, a mere few minutes, but that was long enough for him. When he stepped out of the shower he shook his hair out like a wet dog, letting the towel he scrubbed his head with next catch the excess. Shortly after, he grabbed the comb up next to his sink, swiping the steam off the mirror to give his unruly mop a good brush through before quickly throwing on the pajamas he had grabbed prior. 

Steve practically burst through the bathroom door, following the promising scent of dinner, blatantly stopping in his tracks when he found something that was definitely not chicken pot pie. 

“Oh, Steven,” Oh boy, “We have someone we’d like ‘fer you to meet.” The smile on his moms face was sickeningly different from that she had on when welcoming him in from his chores. A lot less genuine and a lot more plastic, but still warm in the way it always was, it was just her nature. 

Steve didn’t say anything for a few seconds, taking in the atmosphere, his parents, that boy. He would be lying if he said the golden-haired figure standing between his folks didn’t look straight out of one of the magazines he’d seen the few times they went into the city. 

Striking icy blue eyes, rimmed with lashes that damn near put any woman’s to shame. Thick brows somehow shaped to perfection, lain a top skin so perfectly sun kissed and freckled with intent. Steve had to force himself to shake these thoughts, knowing how damn stupid he must have looked gawking like an idiot. But that didn’t push away the confusion he felt as his heart seemed to pick up at the statuesque mystery man standing before him. 

“If they’d ‘a told me we were having’ company I would’ve thought to dress a ‘lil nicer ‘n this,” he remarked, cheeks burning a bit with embarrassment, feeling almost stark naked in his pajama pants and plain white t-shirt. He huffed out a short breath when the guy in front of him gave him a rather unconvincing pity laugh, parents following suit, “Ain’t no skin off my back, ‘m sure we’ll see each other in worse,” the radiant boy replied, once again leaving Steve baffled, but maybe that’s just what he did. 

“Names Billy by the way, Billy Hargrove” the boy- Billy extended his hand for Steve to take and he did, taking the few steps forward to give his hand a proper shake before returning the favor, “Steve Harrington, pleasure’s mine,” he replied simply with a short nod of his head. 

His father seemed pleased enough by this interaction, though Steve could never really tell, he always had this sort of stone cold thing going on. 

There was a beat of somewhat awkward silence before Annette interjected, “How about some homemade pot pie?” she offered, with a prompt clap of her hands, sending her boys and their guest to the dinner table. Normally Steve would have been beaming, ready to talk and talk and talk about anything and everything under the sun, but suddenly he wasn’t exactly in the mood. 

“Well, Billy we really are glad to have ya here,” Mr. Harrington continued in the tone he only used around guests or, really, people he was trying to impress. The sickeningly sweet, layered on false happiness and enthusiasm that made Steve’s stomach hurt, “Yeah, ‘ll y’know my old man’s been rearin’ to get me out of the house since the second I stepped foot outta school,” Hm, so he was older, “Since I graduated early ‘n all, couldn’t happen fast ‘nough.” The lanky boy nearly spit out his water, choking in an awkward way to where it came halfway up his nose and made his eyes water. 

Steve coughed it out a bit before bringing his napkin up to his face, watery eyes of shame blinking themselves dry, “Y’ alright there cowboy?” Cowboy, Steve looked up at the smirk on the other boy’s face and had to hold back a sneer. The last thing he needed tonight was to get into it with his dad while they had company over. 

“ ‘M fine, thanks,” he mumbled, feeling the short- lived rage in his stomach settle when his mother brought the meal over just in time, “Shall we?” she chimed in a sing-song tone, that wasn’t anything like his fathers, hers was genuine. Because if there was one thing about Annette Harrington, she didn’t have a mean bone in her body for anyone, unless they messed with her family. 

Steve tuned out the prayer, forehead pressed solidly against his hands clasped so tight his knuckles were about ghostly white. He was just wondering when this Billy guy was going to leave so this night could be over. But of course, just when the brunette thought the topic might change, of course, even after the prayer, his father, John, had to dwell. 

“I’ll say that’s right impressive, y’know Steve here’s held back a year, he’s ‘sposed to have graduated by now, but,” Mr. Harrington shrugged as he dug into his dinner. His son sat there halfway gobsmacked, halfway offended, but he should’ve expected such. 

Steve scoffed, “Only ‘cus you got me doin’ half your work every day. I barely got time for anythin’ else,” he mumbled under his breath just loud enough for the table to hear as he stared down at his mashed potatoes. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel his fathers eyes boring into his skull like laser beams. 

Steve’s mom just looked at him with a disappointed expression, but didn’t interject because she knew good and well it was true, “ ‘F that’s whatcha really think ‘n you’ll be happy to hear you won’t have to do it no more.” Steve’s eyebrows practically shot up his forehead and through his hairline. 

What the hell was he talkin’ ‘bout?

“Huh?” Was all he could manage before his dad excitedly cut off whatever he was planning to say next, “Well what else do you think we got Billy here for, looks?” This gave everyone but Steve a good laugh, he didn’t see any reason to be laughing right now. 

“ ‘N just what ‘o you mean by that?” He was so blinded by anger that he couldn’t even think about eating the pot pie his sweet mother had made, but he’d get over that guilt. He couldn’t say the same for the fury burning deep within him. He looked over at Billy who looked smug as ever, chewing on a bit of his food, sneaky eyes peeking out of the rim of his rather ratty looking Resistol. Oh what he would give right now to punch that smug look right off that pretty boy face. 

John Harrington gave Steve the look, his signature look that said ‘I dare you to go testin’ me, boy’ and if there was ever a time for that it would be now, “Steve, you’ve been slacking lately ‘n we both know it, son.” Steve went to open his mouth but got cut off, again, “ ‘N I figured having Billy stay here ‘n work with me ‘d give you the time off to do sumn else. Like helpin’ your mom ‘round the house, you did always seem… better suited for those things.” 

This couldn’t be fuckin’ for real, “John-,” his mom tried to scold. 

There’s no way his dad just basically called him a sissy, not after-

“I had my hand up a cow’s ass ‘fer you today, ‘n then you’re gonna go sayin’ that- that bullshit?” Steve burst, knowing he would no doubt have to pay for these words later. He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, not from guilt, not from shame, but of pure, unfiltered rage. But what really put salt in the wound was looking over at Billy, whose subtle smirk had far faltered, turning into something more innocent, more regretful. Like this wasn’t all his own damn fault in the first place. 

Everything’s so unfair, this is so unfair. Not only did he feel hurt, but he felt embarrassed, having his dad say those things about him, basically calling him a sissy, in front of his own mother. 

“Steven-” he heard his father try to reprimand, but Steve refused to take it. Instead, he stood up abruptly, the straightening of his knees sent his chair flying backwards against the wall. He would have cringed at the sound if he weren’t so genuinely pissed. 

He was able to hold the tears in until he turned around, then it was like the dam just… burst. He felt a whine work its way up his throat, but he willed it back down, swallowing what last bit of pride he had left down with it. 

Could a sissy do that? Maybe Steve didn’t want the answer to that. 

He didn’t know what was going on, he’d never felt this was, this upset, this angry. He didn’t understand. He practically glid to his room, socked feet moving so fast he wasn’t sure whether or not he was actually taking real steps. And, frankly, he didn’t care, just wanted to be away. 

When he made it to his room, he closed his door behind him and flopped down onto his bed, stomach down, choking on his own hushed sobs. It made him feel like a child again, pathetic, small, lonely. He turned on his side and curled in on himself a bit, clinging on to whatever little bit of comfort he could. 

Through wallowing in his own self pity, he barely heard the faint mewl coming from behind him. He just groaned, hoping maybe if he ignored it long enough it, or rather she, would go away. 

“Meooowww.” He should’ve known better, it was his fault for locking her in there with him anyways. 

“Oh, Ginger,” he sighed, stuffy nose making him sound all nasally. And it was as if that was the permission the rather plump orange tabby needed to jump up on top of him like he was her human pillow, “Cain’t a man even have a few seconds alone.” To that, of course, she meowed at him in protest, ever the chatterbox. 

Steve quickly accepted his defeat to the tubby cat when she somehow still gracefully jumped off his ribs and onto the empty spot in bed next to him. The pale light of bright stars shining through his window, reflecting off of Ginger’s big round saucer eyes were the only thing giving his room any light. But it didn’t matter because soon after he shut his own eyes, focusing on the purring of the seemingly content cat next to him, half wishing to disappear, half wishing to go back out there and beat Billy to a pulp. Even if only for existing.

Billy, stupid Billy and his stupid white teeth and his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid everything.

Fuck this dinner, fuck this day, and most importantly fuck Billy Hargrove.

#Harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Accidentally posted this last night when it wasn't ready so here we go again LMAO #Cowboy AU #Farm AU #Whatever you wanna call itWFJIKIWF

[judgementdaysunshine]

Breakaway

Pairing: Dominik Mysterio x Fem reader

Description: You and Dom find each other at your low points and breakaway together

Grew up in a small town and when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window dreaming of what could be and if I'd end up happy I would pray trying hard to reach out but when I tried to speak out felt like no one could hear me

You never felt like you fit in or belonged anywhere in your life but when you found wrestling through your uncle, it changed you from that moment on and you were determined to become a wrestler, always training and working out in between school and despite how everyone around you was telling you were crazy for wanting to go after your wrestling dream which made you feel like you weren't good enough to be a wrestler ever, which changed when you were taken under the wing of Damian Priest, who taught you that despite all the inner demons and self doubts, as long as you fought back and willing to stand your ground no matter anything that happened, you will survive and be much stronger than anyone ever thought.

Wanted to belong here but something felt so wrong here so I prayed I could break away I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly I'll do what it takes til I touch the sky and I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway out of the darkness and into the sun but I won't forget all the ones that I love I'll take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway

You slowly felt the happiest you ever had and all of it not only changed but it made you happy than you thought you ever would, you met Dominik when he started wrestling not too long before you, and soon the two of you were best friends and always showed support for each other then later on when he and you both turned heel and joined the Judgement Day together, all the feelings between the two of you changed and amplified as time went on and you both had felt your lives change in a way neither of you expected, that you both not only achieved your dream of wrestling after working and proving everyone wrong so many times but that you two had found each other in the process but it only made your lives and journey of the dream even more better.

Wanna feel the warm breeze sleep under a palm tree feel the rush of the ocean get on board a fast train travel on a jet plane far away and breakaway I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly I'll do what it takes til I touch the sky and I'll make a wish take a chance make a change and breakaway out of the darkness and into the sun I won't forget all the ones I love I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway buildings with a hundred floors swinging round revolving doors

Everything finally came out when he stayed the night with you at your home, you ate dinner together, watched a few movies, and were watching CSI in your bedroom until you suddenly felt his hand caress the side of your face, "I'll show you how much I have loved you and how much I do love you, if you want me to" you smile as you share a kiss which soon leads to caressing and kissing each other's body, igniting a warm burning feeling throughout your skin but you both laugh a little bit in between all the gentle touches, every soft kiss on your body, and both of you just holding each other in the quiet after pouring out everything that had been kept in and finally showing all the feelings and affections you had for each other, you fall asleep in his arms as he runs his fingers lightly and slowly over your spine that makes you slightly shiver as he giggles with his other hand holding yours.

Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but I gotta keep moving on, moving on fly away, breakaway I'll spread my wings and i'll learn how to fly though it's not easy to tell you goodbye I gotta take a risk take a chance make a change and breakaway out of the darkness and into the sun but I won't forget the place I come from I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway, breakaway, breakaway

You both open up but everything you had both went through and all the feelings and things you've both never told anyone but each other, it made you both just fall harder for each other even more, you both told your three friends and teammates, Finn laughs and congratulates both of you, damian hugs you both affectionately truly happy that you had each other, and Rhea hugs you saying she was proud of both of you as she laughs hugging dom, you both always show all the loves you had for each other in everything you did for and to each other and it never failed to make the other emotional that you had each other even when either of you felt like you didn't deserve to be happy but you always reminded each other that you both deserved each other after everything that's happened in both of your lives.

#wwe x reader #dominik mysterio #wwe #dominik mysterio x reader

[literaila]

calm before the storm 

spencer reid x reader 

summary: gradually, spencer lets down those walls he’s been building. it works, for the most part. 

abc’s masterlist. 

warnings: ah... i can’t even warn you about most of it. anyway. angst, fluff (lots), its spencer, so, anxiety, commitment issues 

a/n: can you tell how excited i am to get through this part? 

(this gif makes me want to throw something at a wallsjfh)

*

there was no irrational thought that would allow spencer to even imagine this. 

someone like you, walking with him to drop off a letter. 

a letter which you didn't even ask about. no, you assured him, you were just happy to walk with him. just wanted to hang out. 

you missed him, you'd told him with a wide smile when he answered the door. 

you hoped you weren't intruding. 

spencer didn't have the sensibility to say that you could never be an intrusion. that he felt like he was taking up so much space when he was around you, and he didn't want it to stop. he didn't have it in him to whisper that he was glad you were here, that he was just going to walk--alone--to the mailbox, and that he'd been thinking about you all day. 

that he'd been thinking about you, and all of your complexities, since he was just a kid. daydreaming. 

he was still just a kid. he often had to pinch himself, to make sure he was actually awake. 

and then wash his hands immediately after. 

but spencer didn't have it in him to tell you any of this. he didn't want to bombard you with the infinite galaxies that rummaged around his brain, cluttering any space there might've been. 

no, he wanted to keep you smiling. didn't want to scare you away. 

because there was no rational thought that could get rid of that fear. 

so he took your hand--held out for him in a simple gesture of trust, affection, and something spencer couldn't quite place. he smiled at you. 

didn't say anything else. hoped you understood. 

*

"you're quiet today, dr. reid," you say to him later, when dusk has approached and spencer's scared to let you go. "something wrong?" 

with a quirked lip, spencer merely uses his other hand to tap his temple, waiting for you to smile. 

you comply.

"ah," you say with a knowing nod, "someone as simpleminded as i could never understand the intricacies behind your silence." 

spencer snorts, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. 

"i get it, spencer, don't worry." 

but he shakes his head. clears his throat. "i've just got a lot on my mind." 

your smile falls, only marginally. spencer wants to smack his hand to his head, curse himself for saying anything at all, for getting rid of his favorite thing. a masochist, he's always been. 

"your mom?" you ask him, voice a bit lower. "school?" 

you walk forward with him, keeping up with his pace. you don't even comment when his hands start to get clammy, only squeezing tighter. 

spencer smiles. "a bit of both." 

"do you want to talk about it?" 

not really, spencer knows. he doesn't want to voice his fears, the little secrets tucked under the penalty of his mind. he would rather keep them to himself--if only to save you from the reality behind his eyes. 

but you've already seen so far. you understand him far more than he's willing to admit. 

and he enjoys talking to you. no matter what it is. 

"the doctor thinks her medication is working," spencer looks over, to carefully scrutinize your reactions. "better than it was, at least. her letters are consistent. she misses me." spencer smiles a little bit. 

"of course she does," you say, only slightly teasing. "so what's wrong?" 

"it's just hard to be away, sometimes," he whispers to you. 

"because you miss her?" 

"because this isn't what she wants. i know she misses me, but she misses her independence more." 

when you look at him, spencer feels the weight on his chest increase tenfold. 

it's your eyes. the gentle understanding behind them, the comprehension that he doesn't even have for himself. 

he's read about beauty, flaws, about every type of person, and all types of deities. he's never read about anyone like you. 

"spencer, you can't feel guilty about that," you say, and it's a gentle chiding. 

he tries to look away and finds that he can't. 

you stop walking, slowing down to face him completely. he's immediately distracted by your proximity. by your hands coming to rest on his face. 

you look at him closely, searching for something. 

"but you do," you say. "you feel guilty?" 

spencer nods, the movement small, cheeks warm. "i'm the reason she can't live at home anymore. i left to go to school, and she couldn't be alone." 

you're frowning now. spencer tries not to relish in the sight. the cute jut of your lip. "that's not your fault." 

"if i had stayed..." 

you throw your head back, sighing almost agitatedly. "spencer, you deserve to have a life of your own. you came here for school. it's not like you completely abandoned her or wouldn't go back as soon as she needed you." 

spencer looks away from your eyes. he's told himself all of this before, but it sounds different coming from your mouth. 

"right?" you press, trying to get him to look back at you. 

"right," he relents, softly. 

"she wouldn't want you to give up your life to take care of her, spencer, you know that." you smile at him, almost flustered, frustrated. 

this comfort is different. no consolation, only tough nurture. 

spencer wants to smile at the realization. he wants to smile because he's told you this, and that seems like an achievement of its own. because he's been guilty for a year, and you still haven't run away. 

how glorifying it is to pull you in a little bit closer. 

"say it back to me," you tell him, still scolding. 

spencer laughs, shaking his head from your hands and taking them in his. "i know that." 

your brow and lip quirk. "good," you say. "i'm sorry." 

spencer frowns. "for what?" 

"berating you. you can have whatever emotions you want, but..." you say with a small smile. "i'm gonna tell you when they're wrong." 

spencer laughs again. he leans a little bit closer to you. "wrong?" 

you roll your eyes, pulling back. "you write your mom literally every day, genius." 

your hands have traveled to his neck, playing with the hair you can reach. you're so close to him that spencer is almost sure he can feel your heart against his.

beating in a gentle metronome. 

he would like to listen to it, to feel it, until he can’t feel anything else. 

unfortunately, he doesn't get the opportunity. you press a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away. 

spencer only whines a little bit. 

you laugh at him, taking one of his hands in yours again and starting to walk. "c'mon. let's drop this letter off and then go home and watch doctor who." 

"how did you-" 

"you have comic books on your bookshelf. i know all about the lore, spencer." 

he doesn't correct you. prefers to just let you pull him along. 

"plus," you say, a bit lower. spencer quirks a brow. "i've never seen it.”

and then he blinks at you, hurrying to slow you down. "you've never seen-" 

*

and it's later when spencer has the realization. 

spencer's sitting on the opposite side of the couch, carefully watching you for any reaction you might have. he's seen it all before, so he doesn't even need to watch to know what's going on. 

and besides, he'd much prefer to watch you. to count the wrinkles on your skin, all of the smile lines and things he's seen you try to hide. 

he'd much rather watch your eyes flash with the lights, and observe the different kinds of smiles in different succession. 

honestly, if you'd suggested to just sitting and staring at each other for three hours, spencer wouldn't have complained. he'd do whatever you wanted to, willingly. 

and he hasn't gotten bored yet. 

you clear your throat, looking over at spencer, then back to the screen. "you know," you say, voice just loud enough for him to hear. "you don't seem very interested in this, spencer." 

"i love doctor who." 

you look over at him with an eyebrow raised. "then how come you're not watching it?" 

spencer pauses. watching your eyes. he doesn't have time to answer before you say: "is it boring after you've already seen it?" 

at that spencer scoffs, shaking his head. 

you laugh at him, turning back towards the screen. your eyes glance over at him every couple of minutes, just to be sure that he's still paying attention. 

he's not. spencer won't deny that. 

"this is like scooby doo with aliens," you tell him. 

"it was released six years after the original doctor who, so it's more like scooby doo is doctor who with teenagers." 

you don't even acknowledge that, just point to the screen accusingly. spencer laughs. 

"why do they always split up? you'd think they'd have figured it out by the tenth episode." 

"they haven't died yet, so it works for them," spencer nods along with his lips pursed. 

you look over at him, dubious. "they've confessed their love for each other on the brink of death at least seven times now." 

"it was twice." 

"point still stands. they're both idiots." 

"arguably, the doctor is the smartest person in the universe..." you just stare at him blankly. spencer doesn't have it in him to wipe the smile off of his face. 

"where's the proof?" you say, pointing to the screen again. you're laughing now though, maybe at the dumbstruck expression on spencer's face. 

his face is glued to a sort of delighted expression. he feels like he's waiting for you to unpause him. 

and somehow, he doesn't want you to. he'd rather sit here, just watching you, than ever feel sane again. 

a strange sort of occurrence. a weird recognition hits him with every smile you send his way. 

you increase that weight on his chest with a devious smile and he doesn't care at all. he'd suffocate under the burden of emotions as long as you're there with him. 

spencer's lost looking at you when you look over at him again with a tiny smirk. "spencer," you whisper. 

he shakes his head, trying to put his brain back together. "what?" 

"this blanket is cold." 

he tilts his head. "the... blanket is cold?" 

you nod. "and lonely." 

spencer frowns. 

and then you laugh at him and he looks up. "will you just come here?" 

"over there?" 

you nod. 

spencer's brow furrows, but he moves closer, somewhat confused. "why?" he asks as he nears you. 

"cause i wanna cuddle." 

and then his eyes widen. he looks down like he's going to find a camera somewhere. "you-" he swallows. "you want to cuddle? with me?" 

you're somewhat amused, somewhat bewildered. "is that okay?" 

spencer feels himself nodding without even thinking about it. he moves closer to you, feeling even more sweaty now that he's right next to you. "of course," he says. "that's okay." 

but he doesn't know where to put his hands. doesn't know what he's supposed to be doing, how he's supposed to feel in a situation like this, and he doesn't know how to shield himself from the pure adoration that fills his body every time you laugh at him. 

like right now. 

you're shaking your head at him, face illuminated, when you move closer to him. "c'mere," you say to him and press your body to his so that spencer can't feel anything else. 

he is absolutely freezing, and going to die of heat flash and a heart attack, and he’s also so so content. 

as soon as you nuzzle into him, face right on his chest, body so warm, so soft. as soon as you're next to him, and he's holding you in his arms, it's all okay. 

he doesn't even know how this is supposed to feel, but he knows that he doesn't want it to stop. 

how could he? 

a moment later, with your fingertips trailing across the skin of his neck, you ask: "good?" 

and spencer just nods against your head. he can barely breathe. 

he can feel it when you giggle at something on the screen, when your chest contracts as you inhale and exhale. he can feel every bit of movement, every slight correction, and he can see the way your body holds itself up, the gentle compaction of your skin. 

he's never been so close to anyone else. he's never felt like this before. 

he holds you a bit tighter at the thought. 

he can feel it when you whisper against him. "are you tired?" you whisper to him, breathing right on him. 

spencer looks out of his peripheral to the window. he hadn't even realized it was dark outside. 

"no," he whispers back, swallowing. "are you?" 

you shake your head against him. but he can feel and hear you yawn. 

the tv plays on in the background, but spencer hasn't been paying attention for at least the last hour. 

"do you like it, sweetheart?" he asks, against the quiet contentment of the two of you. he barely even realizes that he's saying the words. 

but he can tell your smiling--if only for the sound of it in your voice. 

"yes. i like that too." 

"what?" 

"sweetheart." 

and then spencer's mind catches up to him. "oh," he whispers, pausing. "i-i didn't. i'm sorry?" 

"spencer," you laugh, looking up to him--your head moves against his chest. "i just said i like it." 

"okay." 

you tilt your head, watch his eyes. "you don't need to be embarrassed." 

"i'm not," he assures you in a bit of a lie. the words sort of just slip from his mouth. 

"you're not?" you repeat, teasing him. 

"no." 

"okay," you say, looking away and shaking your head. 

but spencer can barely breathe. he can barely swallow, can barely move when you're so close to him and he's just let it slip past his lips. 

when he almost said more. 

because he can feel it now--that weight on his chest--and unspoken feeling that he's never been able to name. 

the kind of devotion that wraps itself around your ribcage and makes itself a home in the quietest of corners. the sort of infection that refuses to leave, even when you beg. 

it's the sort of feeling that's always unspoken. that you can barely feel developing. 

and spencer's almost just let it slip. 

he's almost said those words so many times. 

but he's only just realized it. 

with you on his chest, laughing at him, teasing him in the sweet sort of way you always do. 

he loves you. 

he can't tell you that. 

*

when he wakes up the next morning, on his couch, with your hand on his chest--still--arms wrapped around you in a gesture of protection, he is ceased by fear. 

he is under the clutches of terror and he can't seem to escape. 

when you leave later, with a pretty smile and a million different kinds of kisses, spencer can barely breathe as he shuts the door behind you. 

he never wants you to go. never wants to be so far. 

the fear grabs at his chest, shaking him. 

when he gets a text from you later that night telling him about the donut shop down the street, the smile on his face feels pained. 

he can't even stop the beating in his chest for a moment. 

spencer is consumed by the idea. he is wrapped in a gentle frightening embrace that squeezes him until there's nothing left. 

he loves you so much, and he doesn't know how to compartmentalize that. 

should he tell you? should he keep it secret, bury it under the bodies that have developed in his chest? 

should he kiss you again, just to taste that sweet ambrosia he's addicted to? 

shall he turn himself into gold? 

let this terror take him until he's ceased to exist? 

i love you, is the first thought he has when he wakes up the next morning. 

and the last, as soon as his phone rings. 

*

part nine. 

my masterlist here. 

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid sad #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid au #spencer reid drabble

[raeflora]

I said the basics of this on twitter but I honestly don't understand the sethmer dair comparisons like they're completely different ships. seth was obsessed with summer for years, much like how dan was obsessed with serena (serena, not blair who he apparently fell in love with after 5 minutes of interacting with her at an internship). seth and summer were on the same social standing in terms of wealth, it was more their differering popularity among their peers that prevented them from interacting. it's also worth pointing out that seth is very into comic books and other "geeky" hobbies, which summer wasn't into and looked down on. however, once she kissed him she realised that she did have romantic feelings for him, and that he saw her as more than a fun party girl or marissa's best friend. although initially summer was worried about their peers' reactions to her dating seth, they worked through it and they happily dated publicly at school. even when they broke up everyone could see that they belonged together, and that they still loved each other. they worked so hard to stay together and try to go to college together because they knew that they're meant to be together, and were willing to work on their relationship and adapt to challenges together. their first time together was bad, yes, but that's because they were both virgins who had never had relationships before. they communicated about it and worked through it, like they did throughout their relationship.

dair's first kiss made blair realise she wanted to be with chuck, and made her realise that all that was between her and dan was friendship. blair barely interacted with dan throughout high school because she looked down on his social standing, and dan didn't seem interested in her at all. yes they became friends and yes they did date, but blair treated him like a child throughout their 2 month relationship and very clearly didn't enjoy being seen in public with him (they never hold hands whereas sethmer were always doing something affectionate in public). dan wasn't meant to be a geek like seth and ostracised by his peers due to his hobbies, because at nyu he seems very popular and well liked, it's the massive difference in social standing and wealth (and the fact that dan's been spying on them this whole time instead of trying to have a conversation) (also nate befriends him very easily so obviously if he tried to befriend them sooner he may not have been such a self proclaimed outcast). dair's first time is bad, but unlike sethmer they weren't virgins (far, far from it) and they don't communicate and get drunk instead. throughout their relationship they lie to each other and don't trust each other at all. unlike sethmer when they break up the only person who thinks they should get back together is dan, and he gets called out on how delusional he is because it's obvious blair wants to be with chuck.

sethmer and dair aren't rich girl/geeky boy because dan's not a geek. they aren't mean girl/soft boy because dan's not soft. they aren't rich girl/poor boy because seth's not poor. they aren't bf loves gf more because summer loves seth just as much as he loves her. seth and dan aren't really similar personalities, yes they're both smart, "nerdy outcasts" but they're vastly different in their actual characterisations. seth is a geek and proud, he loves comics and emo music and he wants to get away from all the fakeness of being rich in newport. dan is literally the opposite, he wants to be part of the upper east side so badly that he'll do anything. he's athletic (he plays soccer at school) and he dates lots of women throughout the show (aside from anna, seth markedly doesn't) and he'll betray his friends if it'll get him what he wants.

seth and summer's relationship spanned 4 seasons and ended with them getting married (and, to quote summer, seth was her destiny). dan and blair had 7 episodes where blair was blatantly in love with chuck the whole time and ended with them breaking up entirely off-screen through email (and, to quote blair, she would rather be with no-one than with dan). there are no comparisons between the two beyond superficial tropes that don't even fit them. if you're a fan of both then fine, but don't drag sethmer down to the same level as a ship who are inconsequential to the plot of their show when they drove the plot of theirs.

#sethmer #anti dair #seth cohen #summer roberts #blair waldorf #dan humphrey #seth x summer #dan x blair #(technically but please pay attention to the ANTI dair tag!!) #long post #gossip girl #the oc #gossip girl meta #the oc meta #rae talks to herself

[revvnant]

Misconception: He didn't love his brother. Is that.... True?

send me a misconception you think people have about my character and I’ll explain if it’s true or not.

heehee. so i'm gonna say heated things in this post, anon, and it's not because you asked the question. i love this question. when i strawman in here i'm referencing things i've seen in the tags and on other social media over the years. anyways, my first response when people bring this up is usually. that is an extremely complex thing to ask a teenager in michael's position. now, i'm not saying michael is The Victim, given that evan is literally dead. i'm extremely pro-michael responsibility. while it looks like the argument over whether or not he's the bully brother has died off somewhat ( or maybe i've just cultivated my experience a bit better lol ) i used to see so many Fourth Afton Siblings and it drove me insane. i craved that moral ambiguity, that is to say the ambiguity of the action / motivation, and the cloud that it left hanging over michael's story. i liked how it served a narrative where michael callously disregarded his sibling's safety and it got him killed, only for michael to try to be the best brother he could to his sister and lose her anyways, and in much the same way. i loved that michael wasn't perfect and rankled at the push for him to be distanced from the incident because it felt like people weren't willing to say that michael could be both a victim of abuse and a bully who got a kid mauled by taking a malicious prank too far.

which brings me back to the complexity. while it does not excuse michael's actions and certainly doesn't bring evan back, i don't think it's... disrespectful? choosing a side?? to say that michael was also in a bad situation. like. based solely off what we see in the games, michael and evan are on their own. we always see them home alone in an empty house. evan walks to and from freddy's without supervision ( not super unusual, but also something that, at the time, was becoming less common -- i like it as a prelude to the mci, where parents would stop allowing their children to go out alone ). he's spending time at a venue he not just dislikes, but is terrified of, on the regular -- and we don't know why, but i've always assumed that either william is bringing him to work with him or michael is dragging him there after school ( with evan then being free to walk home if he wants to, but he's also clearly discouraged from doing so, given the number of times he tries to 'escape' ). and now he's having his birthday party there. at the very least, his father is negligent. the only family member we see him with is michael.

we're entering headcanon territory now, so be warned of that. while i do a lot of research to back this up, i will also be upfront in saying that i'm spinning a narrative because i think it's appropriate for the setting and want to explore it. hence, there's nothing authoritative here, and i understand if it's not people's cup of tea. that said, michael is the oldest afton sibling. in a lot of places, especially that part of america, eldest / older children are expected to help raise their younger siblings. given that we don't see william around, let alone a mother, i've always come away with the impression that michael was left with a lot of the daily care of the kids. get them to and from school, help with their homework, make sure they shower and brush their teeth, etc. to some people that may sound extreme or dramatic, but it's reality for a lot of kids. they're made to grow up more quickly than their siblings or only children out of necessity. this isn't a blanket judgment of this practice, because 1) utah is not the only place on earth this happens and the cultural context in other places is different, so i don't want to smear that and 2) teaching children some responsibility is not necessarily a bad thing in my eyes.

it is, however, a lot of pressure on a kid. i've made michael four years older than evan and eight years older than elizabeth. those aren't insignificant age gaps, but while he slots more 'naturally' into that parental role for his sister, he and evan are much closer in age. he's twelve when evan is eight, fifteen when evan is eleven ( where i've placed the birthday party in the timeline ). he wants to be hanging out with friends and doing his own thing, and he's being held back ( in his mind ) by having to watch his siblings and, horror of horrors, take his brother with him when he goes places. probably not unusual for where they're living, again, but still. this would normally lead to some inter-sibling resentment, but there are additional layers to this.

one, i think michael struggles in school due to his situation at home. i think both the absence of his parents and the responsibility of watching his siblings are crunching his brain, and he's mentally ill and dyslexic in a school system not designed to accommodate him. if he doesn't make sure his brother's homework gets done, he gets in trouble. forget his own homework. if william and diane are working late, he's responsible for dinner. then he has to get them to bed. once that's done, he can do his own work / shower / whatever else he needs to do. he's exhausted.

two, he is being abused. the degree to which varies from person to person but this is my blog and i say that william was physically abusive. not only do i think there's more than enough evidence of this in the games ( midnight motorist, his comfort killing children when he has kids of his own ), but secondary research has all but proven to me that you almost never see cases of child killing without abuse going on in the house. you just. as a baseline. are not simultaneously a kind parent and a child murderer. to have your own children and to be comfortable killing somebody else's children may seem like two separate things in fiction, which is why i'm not against people saying that william was 'only a little' / not physically abusive, but in real life that just... doesn't happen. and my blog for the sci-fantasy horror series about possessed bear robot is historically inspired so we all just have to live with that.

a few things with the abuse, though. firstly, michael is learning violence in the home. he is being conditioned to accept physical harm as the norm, and his father is setting the example that the right way to cope with your emotions is to lash out. and not only is mike experiencing the normal heightened emotional state of puberty, he's angry and confused and upset because his father is mistreating him. he's being hurt and he has no one to appeal to ( another big historical theme for me: a lack of intervention in hurricane; not their children, not their problem, and heaven forbid someone tell another man how to run his household! ), he can't get away from it unless he wants to pack up a little rucksack and flee ( i do believe this happened at least once and he quickly got found and returned to his parents ), so he just has to sit. and stew in it. and not understand why it's happening. because there is no good reason for it. i'm very much not like. 'william abused michael because michael acted out!' the opposite, in fact. michael acted out because he was being abused -- and because he was a teenager! and that idea always rubbed me the wrong way because, to be quite honest, abusive parents do not need a 'reason' to hurt their kids. they don't need an inciting incident. i know parents are people, but abusive parents -- parents with a pattern of violence -- are gonna do what they do regardless of how their kids act. they can say there's a reason for it, but if there isn't? they'll invent one. so there shall be no 'mike was a bully and william started punishing him more harshly' here.

secondly, michael has to cope with his situation differently than his siblings. evan is a crybaby -- and rightfully so, given what he's going through! he also lives with an abusive father, though i don't believe he's william's usual target; that house is a nightmare and he is in it with the rest of them. plus, his brother bullies him! i would cry! but i think the crying is something that michael grows to resent very quickly. michael isn't 'allowed' to cry; he's a 'man', his father expects more from him. michael 'has it worse' than evan, so what does evan even have to cry about? michael doesn't cry when he gets mistreated, and 'nobody's' mistreating evan. evan, as far as michael is concerned, is being waited on hand-and-foot by him. he's the one helping with the homework and tying the shoelaces and walking him to school and picking him up at the end of the day. he's the one losing sleep and weekends with friends to take care of him. what the fuck could evan ever have to cry about? by that logic, maybe michael should give him something to cry about -- like william gives him something to cry about. because that's what real men do.

thirdly, as implied above, michael is the barrier. he's the oldest, he's the one who looks like william, he's the puberty-riddled mentally ill punk-leaning problem child. he is his father's target of choice. and i think he took pride in that fact when it first began, that he could take it, that he could serve as a shield. but he's a child and that didn't last long. how could it? he was being hurt. he just does not have the capacity to be like, 'no, i can do this for their sakes and be happy about it, it's good that it's me and not them.' few adults can do that without developing resentment for the people they're 'defending' ( especially when that's not what's really happening -- they're not 'defending' their siblings / children / etc. from anything, they're just being attacked ). but michael can't fight back against william. william is a grown adult and his father. so he gets mad at the only person he can do anything against in this equation: the other victim.

so we have a kid at an age where he normally wouldn't want to be hanging out with his younger brother, but he doesn't really have a choice. maybe some teasing would be normal, but this boy has been subjected to violence, and has, in his frustration and confusion, turned this violence upon his only feasible target. and it is violent. it's horrible. but is this hatred? is this evidence that michael hates his brother? i don't think so. i think they are in a fucking horrendous situation and they're just trying to survive. i don't think removed and sweeping concepts like 'michael loves his brother' or 'michael hates his brother' ( as if the two are mutually exclusive? ) apply here. michael took care of his brother. you could call that love. michael tormented his brother. you could call that hate. michael intended to frighten and maybe even hurt evan, but not to kill him, and it still resulted in evan's death. did he do it out of hate? if hate here is shorthand for 'a desire to see evan dead', no. if it's 'a desire to make evan uncomfortable and upset', maybe!

but like. i dunno. abusive households are like a pocket dimension. you need years of therapy to unpack that shit. i don't think sitting down and casting judgment on michael based on whether or not one believes that he 'hated' his brother is fair or worthwhile. with all that going on above, it's not even a thought exercise i'm interested in, if the end goal is to rank michael as a Good or Bad person. rather, i want to explore what would lead to an incident like that. maybe michael loved his brother, but in that house, expressing that love in any sort of healthy way was not an option. and that's far more compelling to me than 'michael was born bad' or 'michael is an unfeeling monster'.

#anonymous #W3. HEADCANONS #abuse cw #child death cw

[wimbledonsoot]

[the fall] - MORNINGS (ep.2)

as the hero council arrives, you're told to 'take a little time for yourself'. but when you witness a murder on your way back from school, you can't just let things be.

trigger warnings for this chapter: violent murder, blood, gore, assault, violence, visual murder - as in blood sprays everywhere and shit,

word count: 3.1k

Or maybe, there is something you can do. After all, you've done all the training that Dream or Sapnap have, and you know how to fight. You've done some careful observation of all your enemies to see where you can hit them with your power from a distance.

So when your finger lightly brushes the button and The Blood God's sword presses tighter against your throat, you kick out and pray that luck is on your side.

And god, it is.

Because somehow, you manage to not only hit the pink-haired man, you also manage to hit him a spot that's somehow already sore. That's why he stumbles back and also why you have to swerve out of the way of his sword.

I mean, it'd be pretty awkward if you'd have died that way.

You can just imagine telling your fellow ghost friends down in the afterlife all about it. You'd definitely spin the story to make you seem like more of a badass.

You rush forward, pressing the button and hurrying out a string of words along the lines of "Syndicate, vigilantes, fight, injured, help." Hopefully it'll reach the hero council. You don't even fucking know how this hasn't gone unnoticed yet.

But just as you stand up and get ready to fight again, a large burst of power rushes through the room.

It seems that something - be it help or not - has arrived.

And as the rubble clears and you're face to face with none other than Bomb, you realize that it's probably the latter.

The vigilante facing you is a goat or ram hybrid, and his power consists of creating and throwing projectiles (such as bombs) within a matter of seconds. He's dangerous, but his skill set is better suited to large, outdoor fights. The hallway in which you find yourselves at the moment is small, and crowded. You don't know what to expect.

What you do know, though, is that now you're outnumbered.

Phantom phases into existence beside you, and with the laziness of someone far too self-confident, draws a weapon. You, however, with the speed of someone who is scared for their life, only stumble back.

Wow. You really are fucking useless.

Phantom only smirks at your attitude, and you quickly realize that maybe - just maybe - Dream wasn't exaggerating when he said that this dude was scary.

The smile - grin, more like it - sends shivers down your spin in torrents.

Phantom phases too quickly for you to react, and even though you hastily block his attack, his sword slides off the edge of yours, allowing him to thrust forward. You step to the side, bumping into Bomb, whose eyes glow red in that way that tells you he's using his powers.

Again, Phantom phases in beside you, striking his weapon down in an elegant arc that you can only duck to avoid, rolling out beneath his sword. The fight would be so smooth, if it weren't for the fact that you're kind-of-really having a panic attack inside because of it.

Glancing around as you get to your feet, you notice that you're not the only one struggling to hold your ground. The Blood God's and Philza have teamed up to fight George, and Apollon and Dream are caught in a taunting battle of wills (as per usual, you might add).

You notice that you're bleeding, and wipe away the crimson liquid before discarding your blade to go at Phantom in a more conventional way. Fuck it, am I right? The situation is hopeless as it is, and if you can get any, any advantage, you'll take it.

When Phantom lays eyes on you, you can see that he's starting to phase out. So you tether him in place the only way you know how, distraction.

Black flashes engulf the area around him, and as you tackle the man to the ground, you get in a couple punches. However, as he fazes out of existence, you realize that maybe, you made a mistake.

Because you can hear as he picks up your sword, and you can sense him stalking towards you.

Well fuck.

The hallway, however cramped as it may be, stretches out for a fair distance of ten meters. You stand at the edge, but as Phantom waves his swords in the air and you dodge each potential death strike, the distance between you and the wall quickly approaching has never felt smaller.

Suddenly, you hit the wall. The concrete feels cold, and the fact that this is the last thing you're ever going to feel strikes you as kind of depressing. You'd want something nice in your final moments. Like a hug or something.

Or maybe you'd like to hang out with Techno for a bit. Say goodbye.

But it turns out that luck has something else planned for you, and as Dune, Monarch and The Captain burst into the room, Phantom quickly forgets you. You expect them to stay; fight, but it seems that this was not supposed to be more than just a terror attack.

A way to shy you away from picking a fight - they want you to know they can kick your asses.

You grind your teeth as they flee the scene. Fucking cowards.

You, George, Dream and Sapnap meet in the center of the room, all of you limping in some way. Dream's arm is bruised; a nasty one that coats his shoulder in black and blue. George has a nasty split lip. Sapnap is nursing a wound on his leg, likely from The Blood God's deadly sword. And you're just plain sore. Something feels like it's ever so slightly gone wrong in your wrist, you know that you've got bruises peppering your midsection and there's a small cut on your throat from the aforementioned man with a sword.

The Captain walks towards you, her face lit with fury. It sends a shiver of fear through you. You've never seen her so mad.

"Who initiated?" She asks.

Dream steps forward, and as head of your division the fact that he's the one who speaks is perfectly natural. "They did. The attack came out of nowhere."

The Captain's face softens slightly from the fact that you guys probably look like a bunch of abandoned cats, and she replies with a quick: "Wait a minute," before walking over to the rest of the heroes assembled.

As they chat, you step forward. "Is everyone more or less okay?"

Dream and Sapnap nod and George shrugs, wincing as he does so. "I think I busted something in my shoulder, but aside from that I'm fine."

"Good," you say, and sit down.

Dream and Sapnap exchange a look and you raise your eyebrow. But before you can ask what they mean, Dream sits down next to you and asks: "And you? I mean, you're kinda out in the open now."

Oh. Yeah. You'd forgotten about that.

"I... I'm not sure. It's cool. It's scary. It's kind of causing me to panic inside because I'm not sure if that means that the advantage I give you guys is gone," you reply.

"If you're thinking that you're suddenly not important, you still are. You're super valuable for us. I mean come on, you managed to call the hero council for help and hold your own against Phantom," Sapnap says, smiling.

"Without you, we'd have bigger issues than a couple busted shoulders and some scratches," George adds.

You smile softly. These are your closest friends, and you're glad you have them. Even if one's a total dork who has no game, the other's oblivious and the third's a walking talking third wheel.

You want to reply, but it's at that point that The Captain, Dune and Monarch decide to talk to you about what happened. You and Dream stand in the presence of the heroes, while Sapnap and George turn to face them.

"We've decided that perhaps you need a little break," Dune says. His piercing stare turns to you and he adds: "After all, one of your identities has been compromised, and you all look a bit... bedraggled."

Usually you find Dune cool, but right now you really want to punch him with the way he says that.

"Yes sir," Dream says slowly, "When do you intend to... put us back into circulation?"

"We don't know exactly," says Monarch, their voice soft, "But likely once we've figured out why the Syndicate attacked. A few weeks at least, so to say, though we could be reckoning with as long as two or three months."

Two or three months?

You clench your teeth.

Two or three months?

They can't be serious.

But it seems they are, and it also seems that no one, no one except for you, that is, has an issue with that.

---

Walking back home is grim.

Rain patters down on your umbrella, the grey clouds that had been far off on the distance only hours ago covering the sun and painting the day dark.

Your thoughts are filled with disappointment. Everything had been going so well. Only weeks ago, your team had taken down a vigilante by the name of Thunder. While he'd escaped later, you still had been the ones to imprison him! You guys, in short, are good. It isn't right that you are being 'put out of service' just because of one fight, is it?

And Dream, Sapnap and George can't seriously be okay with it?

But from the way they'd reacted, silent, not saying a word as they packed up a few things and left, it seemed you were the only one who truly was irritated. And your complaints had fallen on deaf ears.

So here you are, walking home with the dull, dripping, grey sky above and the pretty much empty streets beside.

Your home is a small, cobblestone townhouse in the main part of L'Manburg, near the bridge. It isn't a super great area, or a super bad one, but the walk from the hero quarters back to it leads you through some... questionable bits of town.

Not that you're scared. Your powers, at the very least, are enough to protect you.

Still, you tug your bag closer and keep your head down, blending in with the rush of people as they make their way back home.

The last thing you want tonight was more trouble.

As you turn the corner into the small plaza branching off of the street that leads to your home, however, you suddenly realise that that was a slightly foolish wish.

Because lo and behold, there stands The Butcher.

The Butcher; the only true villain left in this town. He'd received his name from the massacre of True Casino. Twenty-five people had been killed. All of them by him.

So of course, it's not exactly unreasonable that you're ever so slightly scared.

It's a mother fucking mass murderer.

And it seems like he's found a new victim.

As you stumble back behind a corner, hiding behind it and praying he doesn't find you, you hear the whimpering and pleading. The sound of a knife being unsheathed. The slash of a blade across skin and then the wet splash of blood.

You gag, tugging out your mask.

You have to do something.

You have to.

You don't care in that moment that the hero council told you not to do this, and you don't care that you might die. And as you stand up, removing your coat, you curse those damn personality traits that make you ideal as a hero.

You're tempted to yell 'hey fuck face' but instead you call: "Butcher!"

It's better not to make him angry before even starting the fight, you suppose.

The man who faces you is not extraordinarily tall, or extraordinarily short, or extraordinarily anything. A black mop of hair covers most of his face, and his eyes are dark brown, nearing the same shade as his hair, but aside from that nothing stands out. Save for the scar running down the side of his face.

The smile he gives you is gruesome. A promise of violence. Not slow violence either. Ruthless, bloody murder type violence.

You think for a moment that his face is familiar, but you know that can't be. No one knows what the butcher looks like, and the reason for that is that his main ability, save for plain ruthlessness, is that he can make people simply forget.

Your eyes flicker to the body lying on the ground and you wince. Dead already. A clean slice through the neck, though blood stains the cobblestone ground red.

The very same blade he used for that victim now lies in his hand, and he twirls it around as he slowly sits on a step.

"Hey," he says, and his voice, just his voice, young and youthful and kind of charismatic, makes you stop.

And... forget.

It's meant to scare you, because within a moment you've snapped back to reality and you know where you are and who you're with. It's meant to tell you that you don't have a chance.

You are very much regretting your life choices at that moment.

"So..." he continues, but this time his voice seems colder, almost, less vibrant, "Who are you?"

He still talks like you're best friends. Like you know each other or something. Like, he's going to crack a joke and you're going to laugh and then you're going to go get a cup of coffee together. It doesn't make sense.

It confuses you.

"No one," you reply, hesitant. He cant tell you don't know how to play his game, and to that he smiles.

"See, I think you might be lying."

You don't reply, simply step back, towards the wall. A quick glance around shows he's managed to block out any chance of escape except going back.

The Butcher stands, and you shrink back, shocked at how suddenly he's taller, bigger, meaner. He smiles again, flicks his knife in, out, in, out. The clacking makes you wince each time, and each time he comes closer you press yourself further into the wall.

What have you gotten yourself into?

His smile widens as he notices your fear, and your mind races to try and figure out how to get out of this alive. You can't let him see where you're going. You can't let him follow you home.

As he leans in, he presses the knife to your throat, clicking it out. The metal reopens the small wound The Blood God gave you earlier.

A word, against your will, escapes your lips, "Please."

The Butcher frowns.

"I don't plan on killing you," he says, "But I want you to tell some of your little hero friends this." He leans in towards you ear, and you stiffen, "You'll. Never. Fucking. Catch me."

He removes his blade, and then as suddenly as he came, he's gone.

---

The walk - more like run - home takes little time, and as you realize just how close you are to the scene of the crime you tug off your mask and dial Techno's number. You don't feel safe here, and the Minecrafts have always let you stay over if you want.

Then again, there's usual an identifiable reason, but you're sure they'll let you.

The phone rings twice before Techno answers, his voice making it clear that he's tired. You glance at the clock on the mantle. It's already 10 PM.

"Hey, I'm sorry for calling so late but can I maybe stay over at yours tonight?"

Maybe it's the fact that you're asking this late or maybe it's the fact that you sound scared shitless, but Techno immediately wakes himself up. "Yeah, totally. Do you want me to pick you up? What happened?"

"I got robbed on the way back from work, and I don't exactly feel a hundred percent safe here," you reply, telling him half of the truth, as per usual. It's kind of sad how much you have to lie to him because of the whole hero thing.

You hear the sounds of shuffling as Techno says: "Okay, I'll be there in fifteen."

"You sure? I mean I can walk. Or just stay here. It's not the end of-"

"Y/N," he says sternly, "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

With that, he hangs up.

---

True to his word, Techno's car stands in front of your doorway at 10:15 PM, and he smiles softly as you sit next to him, a small bag on your lap.

"You sure you're okay?" He asks, because he's your friend and friends are supposed to care (just... maybe not as much as he does).

You nod. It's hesitant, Techno can tell, and he knows that your shaken up.

"Do you want to tell me a bit more about what happened?" He asks, and as you turn to him, smiling lightly (it's a tad forced, he can tell), he sees a small cut along your neck. It's still bleeding, just a little bit, and it's exactly where-

No. Never-mind. That'd be so fucking weird, and no matter how much the universe like to play tricks on him, that'd be too much of a coincidence.

So instead he says: "You have a little cut on your neck. Did the guy have a knife or..."

"Yeah, he did," you mutter. You're looking out the window, and he can tell you're really shaken up. He doesn't want to think about what might've happened.

"Look, Y/N, do you want to talk?" He asks. He wants you to talk. Usually it helps and he really doesn't like seeing you scared.

"Not particularly," you say.

But you say nothing as you place a hand on his thigh, just lightly, as a little piece of physical affection. And he says nothing either.

The voices are having a field day.

The drive only takes a bit longer. Not many words are said but the silence is comforting, incredibly so. He can tell that you're feeling better, and he's glad that you felt comfortable enough to ask him for help.

And what are the voices saying?

E.

How poetic.

Tommy's dozed off on the couch while watching TV with Phil and Wilbur's up in his room strumming his guitar, so him walking you in only gets a hushed "Hey Y/N," from Phil and a snoozing "Fuck off," from Tommy. You both smile.

He sets you up on the pull out bed in the guest room, and as he leaves you smile, slightly.

"Thanks," you quietly say.

"You're welcome," he replies.

#technoblade x reader #superhero au #dsmp superhero au #reader insert #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #dsmp imagine #dream smp imagine #dsmp #dream smp #technoblade imagine #nonbinary reader #technoblade x gn!reader #technoblade x reader friends to lovers #friends to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #slow burn #'The Fall' Series

[bookwyrminspiration]

do you think there was any other way sophie could've (for lack of a better word) dealt with her human parents when she started foxfire?

Honestly? I don't. Not one that would've satisfied what everyone wanted at that point in time.

I keep going over it in my head and with the cards laid out as they were, I keep coming back to what they chose. And I don't say that lightly. Do I think erasing all their memories of Sophie was good? No. I think it was what they could do to make the situation work that was the least painful for everyone and that they were okay with. We can come up with alternatives, but that doesn't mean the characters would accept that option based on their values

Because there were certain things that needed to happen (Sophie needed to learn to use her abilities, the Council needed to keep elves secret, etc) and there are certain consequences to that. We can go on and on about how it wasn't fair to Sophie's human family that they were involved in this without their knowledge, but that's a separate thing. It happened. And so here we are

The two alternate methods proposed in the series were: Sophie's death is faked and her family mourns her while she lives in secret in the Lost Cities, or she stays with her human family but goes to Foxfire for class (this was a tentative worry Sophie had in her mind, which she didn't express).

Sophie doesn't want her family to be in pain, so for her the death option isn't an option she'll consider. It also raises the issue of if there's ever any encounter in the future, it immediately throws the whole thing off. I know they weren't planning for any encounter, but things happen. This means both sides (Sophie + family) would be suffering through this, and that's not an option she wants if she can avoid it. And she can, hence why I don't think this is a "better" option for her. Some may prefer this, but Sophie wouldn't

There's also her staying in her family's life but going off to a different school. This requires either immense secrecy and stress on Sophie's part to try and hide everything elf related with whatever wild explanation her human family is given, or her family has to be in the know. This all happened at the very beginning of book one when Sophie had no political influence and the council was trusted, and the council would not agree to an entire human family knowing about the elven world just because Sophie's attached to them, not with their whole species at risk. They can't take that chance, so they can't be in the know

Which leaves her with the secrecy, which I don't think is a good option for her. It alienates her further from her family and from her new peers, while also adding incredible pressure on her end to keep up the illusion. It's not sustainable.

There's also the issue of Sophie being only 12 when this all happens, so ultimately her parents get a lot of say in her life. They vetoed Yale, they could veto whatever explanation the elves come up with--like a boarding school she goes to far away. Then in order to get that to work, they may need a beguiler or something to convince them in which case there's the argument of is that still her parents if they have to be persuaded against their natural instincts to create this situation? And it seems like an awful lot of work for something so risky.

All this sums up to: I don't think there's an arrangement with Sophie living far away her parents would consent to, if they haven't agreed to it and have been coerced is that better (I don't think so), killing herself off in her family would cause more pain than Sophie would ever be willing to put them through, and trying to keep everything secret wouldn't be sustainable.

I hate the idea of messing with people's memories, but I truly think it was the solution that satisfied the most parties with the influence everyone had in their world at that time. Maybe Sophie would argue for something different now that she's more open to going against the rules and has more sway, but at the time this, I think, is the best option they had.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #quil's queries #nonsie #i've got very particular feelings about messing with people's memories and also time travel. so this isn't necessarily what I would choose #in this situation #but for the characters I think it's what's best #I can't say for sure how I'd react until I was in that situation #I can sit here and go 'I value the construction of self as reliant on memories and experiences so I'd never do anything to mess #with them and violate something in that way. therefore I'd go with faked death' #but I'm not actually /in/ that situation with all the complexities #so who knows what I'd actually decide in the moment #long post

[tb-gerschutz]

Prologue

Word Count: 1,866

Trigger Warning(s): grieving, blood, dead body, graphic depictions of violence

Summary: The protagonist sums up a tragic event of her past.

**********

Why did this have to happen to me? Out of all the people in the world who definitely deserved this pain more than I did, why me? I did nothing wrong, God. Nothing! And yet, you punish me by taking back my brother far too soon. I hate you for that! He was my best friend, my partner-in-crime...

...and you took him from me. You bastard!

I sure as hell didn't deserve this pain, this torture! I don't deserve to have this knife in my grieving, fragile heart for the rest of my life. No one should have to go through this. No one.

As you can't tell already, I'm definitely struggling from processing grief and heartbreak in a healthy manner. Allow me to take you back to why I felt this heartbreak, grief, and anger.

My twin brother Devin and I had just graduated from the University of Tennessee a year earlier than expected because of all the credits we gained from taking college-level classes in high school. I had graduated with a Bachelor's Degree in Criminal Justice, working my ass off so I could go into the Secret Service for the United States government. I always had a knack for protecting people and doing what's right even if the metaphorical gun of fear was pointing in my face. I was, and still am, pretty stubborn and abrasive, unlike my caring, sweet twin brother. Though he graduated with a Bachelor's in Sports Medicine, he had the intention of getting his Doctorate and becoming a primary care sports medicine physician. Devin—God love his gentle soul—always had a thing for helping people and making them feel better, and this career was ultimately what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

Well, that didn't last long.

Although we spent a lot of time together, we weren't attached at the hip. We often did activities by ourselves when we needed space, and both of us were perfectly fine with it. Despite loving each other dearly, both of us needed some space once in a while.

At the time of the incident, it was early evening. Late enough for an early sunset to be evident on the horizon, but early enough that it was visibly light outside. I was sitting in a local coffee shop in downtown Chattanooga, which I often did whenever I had work that needed accomplished right away. This coffee shop was within an earshot of my home, so it was convenient for me to go there whenever I needed space to concentrate on work that I needed to get done. I was here trying to find any job opportunity available for the Secret Service. Whether it was extra training sessions or paid internships, I was looking for every opportunity to go down to DC and serve as the president's bulletproof vest.

Typing and carefully combing the internet, I was entirely focused on what the screen on my laptop produced. Whatever I could find related to the Secret Service, I was more than willing to take a look at. I paid no attention to what was going on outside, even if my twin brother would occasionally go on his early-evening run around the downtown area. He often did this to keep in shape for baseball, the sport he loved so dearly. He lived, breathed, and slept all things baseball, something I never did. I never got into sports in junior high or high school, so I mainly kept to academic work, as well as part-time work at the local police department here in Chattanooga, Tennessee and going to the gym regularly. 

Yes, my parents were fine with this and supported me every step of the way. They wanted the best for me just like the rest of my siblings.

Devin happened to be running by the area whilst I was scouring any government database to find job openings. I kept to myself and intensely scoured while drinking my coffee. My attention was entirely dedicated to my laptop and the Internet.

That changed, however.

My gut was screaming at me, trying desperately to tell me that something was wrong. Something bad was going to happen, but I hoped that it wouldn't happen to me or any of my family, especially my twin brother Devin. He and I practically grew up together and were best friends. We didn't have a lot of friends growing up because we had each other. It would be simply painful to have something happen to me, my siblings, or my parents. 

Turns out, my hopes didn't stop life from happening.

As I just logged into a possible opening for the Secret Service, a loud, ear-piercing scream sent me into a mode of panic. It didn't help that five or six gunshots sent me into a panic prior to the scream. My mind was racing faster than a train on drugs, and my heart was beating out of my chest and into my throat, causing me to breathe quickly and panic wildly. Being the good Samaritan I hoped to be, I dashed out of the shop to seek out the source of the scream. All I found at first glance was a black 1966 Chevy Chevelle zooming away from the dark alley across the street.

That's suspicious, ain't it, I thought to my panicking self.

Once I found an opening in the traffic, I bolted across the street and to the dark alley. A feeling of dread and imminent heartbreak awaited me, as I became uneasy. A feeling that I dreaded everytime I encountered it. As I slowly sauntered deeper into the alley, a rotten and horrid smell burned my nostrils and made me gag over its horrible odor. It only got worse as I got closer to a mysterious black dumpster. I knew I'd regret it when I did it, so I walked over to the dumpster to try and find the smell, thinking that it would just be rotten trash someone threw away. It was anything but. In fact, it was much more horrifying than that.

When I looked into the dumpster, I came across a horrible sight. It was my twin brother, and he was still. Absolutely still. His abdomen was covered in blood, and bruises riddled almost every inch of his body. Refusing to believe that this was really happening, I tried desperately to wake Devin up.

"Devin! Devin, wake up!" I said, growing more angry and upset as the realization that Devin was dead grew. 

"Devin, this isn't funny. Please wake up! Wake up, you son of a bitch! Wake up!"

Then, the realization of Devin being dead hit me like a high-speed bullet train. I felt my heart shatter in several pieces as my eyes filled up quickly with angry, depressed tears. Devin can't be dead! He's my twin brother, my best friend. How am I supposed to live without him?

In a fit of utter heartbreak, I called the emergency nine-one-one hotline to tell them what I had just found. Despite the operator telling me to keep calm, I never once had the strength to suppress my feeling of heartbreak and depression.

"My twin brother's dead! He's dead! He can't be dead. He can't!" I cried into the phone.

My hysteric ass stayed on the line until the police and ambulance came to investigate the matter. One officer, who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, gently and calmly walked over to me as I sat curled up into a ball, shocked and depressed over what just happened.

"Excuse me. I'm Sergeant Hayes. I'm with the Chattanooga Police Department. Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions about what happened?" he asked calmly.

I knew the name Sergeant Hayes. I often heard it come up while I worked my part-time job at the local police station when other officers chronicled their past cases or missions.

"I don't mind," I said in a depressed tone. "Ask away."

The officer then sat next to me on the curb, trying his best to comfort me. "Did you know the deceased person?" he asked.

"His name was Devin. Devin Crawford. He was my twin brother," I responded.

"And how old was he? Did you know?"

"Twenty," I said simply. "Fresh out of college."

"Where did he go to college?"

"University of Tennessee. Graduated with a Bachelor's Degree in Sports Medicine and wanted to go for his doctorate to become a sports physician. We took college classes in high school, so we were both able to graduate earlier than usual. I graduated with a Bachelor's in Criminal Justice, with hopes of going into the Secret Service," I explained, "but lately, finding an opportunity to join it has been hard."

"What was your twin brother like?" the officer asked, continuing his questioning.

"He was a down-to-earth, very caring kid. He loved baseball, so much so that he played it in college. Got a full-ride to college to play it too," I explained.

"Going into what happened, do you know what happened?" the officer asked. "Just tell me all that you know."

I told the officer everything that I knew, even the fact that before I ventured into the alley, I saw a black 1966 Chevy Chevelle driving away from the scene. The officer, seeing that this information was important, jotted it down on his notepad quickly, careful to not miss any detail or fix it in a dramatic way. Though he didn't show it, I could tell that he was afraid of messing up one detail. One slip-up, and it could lead to trouble for him.

"A 1966 Chevy Chevelle? Do you know the license plate?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, I don't," I answered simply. "It sped away so fast that the contents on the plate were blurry. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Do you know your twin brother's birthday?" the officer asked.

"August 11, 1996. He just turned twenty."

"That's all the questions I have, so thank you," the officer said. "I'm sorry for your loss. Please send my condolences to you and the rest of your family."

"I will. Thank you," I said back.

Several days later, I found myself back on University of Tennessee's campus for a candlelit vigil in my brother's honor. Several people of various backgrounds—students, classmates, teammates, coaches, et cetera—came out to the courtyard, holding lit candles and mourning the loss of such a gentle, warm soul. Deep down, my blood was boiling, but I didn't let that show, for if I let it show, I'd be vulnerable. If I was vulnerable, then I'd be bombarded by all these people who feel sorry for me. I don't want that.

About a month or so later, I got a call from the Chattanooga Police that they found out who was behind my twin brother's murder. It was a couple members of the Petronella family, a mafia family relatively known to work in the shadows. I was then assured that the CIA and FBI were working hard to try and capture them, which made me feel a bit better. However, I wasn't at all better. It will take a long time to heal. Will I ever heal from this pain? I hope I eventually do. 

One Year Later...

#agent whiskey #creative writing #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fanfiction

[selormohene]

day 76 (sunday, september 17th 2023)

(Writing pretty late on Monday.)

So this September I'm only drinking water, milk, tea and coffee. I've done a lot of decaf. There's been a bunch of herbal tea and one plain sparkling water, but as far as I'm concerned that all still counts. I haven't done cocoa powder, and in principle that would have counted, but whatever, it's only a few days to go and I can have all the cocoa powder I want next month. I wasn't sure what to do for October but I think I've decided now. I'm going to shoot for a conversation with a random person every day. If I miss a day I'll just do two the next day. So maybe I'll try to do one for each day at a rough rate of one a day. For this challenge I'd prefer to focus on strangers on the street, mainly because my main thing is to get over not being able to compliment people on their glasses or strike up conversations with people who are around me, but depending on social events I might count some of those. We'll see.

I've noticed that I'm very hard on myself when I make mistakes. Like I realised that in the last couple of years one particular psychological issue that caused me a lot of distress was remembering moments in the past that make you cringe. Like that was constantly happening to me. It felt like a weird sort of OCD and I'm not sure what the ultimate cause was — we all have those little things that happen in our brains that show up as psychological phenomena, and who knows what their ultimate cause is, and I have no idea why that was mine. That's gone away for the most part, and I was working on modulating my reaction to those memories arising (although I don't know if the modulation helped reduce the intensity of the reactions or I was better able to modulate because they weren't so intense anymore due to resolutions of the underlying cause, and I also don't know why this in particular was what I was experiencing at all). But I realise that I still basically berate myself for missing things like deadlines, or forgetting things, not remembering to prepare completely optimally for the day ahead, etc. I'd like to work on improving that. I'm also in the dark as to where that came from. I can identify all sorts of potential causes, being lashed in school or whatever, but agian with all these identifications of childhood aetiological factors for one's weird behaviours and neuroses the question always remains of what it is about you and theway you're set up that these experiences affected you in the way they did while leaving others unscathed. Anyway.

Been thinking more about the "taking children seriously" stuff. It's really challenging me. I still don't agree with a lot of it, but at the same time I can definitely see a lot of value in the perspective as a limit case of the sort of approach which I do think is very meaningful when it comes to dealing with children. Part of the thing is that children have a sense of their own good, and to that extent a form of autonomy in the sense of self-legislation, but they don't have causal independence, their wills aren't as efficacious as those of adults. (And in particular, I want to say, unlike many adults whose inefficacy is that of first actuality which isn't exercised enough, that of kids is generally that of first potentiality which is yet to be converted into first actuality.) Plus part of the thing about being a kid is that your behaviour is partly the responsibility of the adults around you, so you are allowed to not have certain things all together because ultimately they're not left up to you. Part of what it would take to leave certain things up to kids is for them to take on the responsibility for the bad outcomes that might result, and of course most kids can't shoulder that responsibility and I really don't think we should want them to. (Again the paradox: it seems like this sort of libertarian fully democratic approach is saying give them all the autonomy but none or little of the responsibility. But you can't argue that on a priori grounds. As I mentioned earlier, recognising agency and assigning blame are two sides of the same coin.) At the same time I can understand why that might in some circumstances seem like a convenient pretext for arrogating control over what children can do to oneself, especially since parents often misuse or overextend their fiat and/or don't take enough responsibility for the bad outcomes of their decisions made by fiat. But we must distinguish between claims that lend themselves to misuse, even easily so, and inherently or universally unjust claims.

On not doing everything. It's often said that youc an't do everything. And that's true. And yet there are people who manage to do a lot of things. What's so special about them? I think there are a few things. First they're very well-integrated and energetic. They're not dragging themselves through life (which implies having fixed sleep and diet issues, at least to a point where they're not debilitating). But they're also socially well-integrated; they know whom to call on as far as certain things to do are concerned. They've been able to outsource a lot of the overhead involved in going out of the way to do something different — either to routine, or to system. Or perhaps they're just better at following the flow. (Like I was in SOS lol.) Anyway, I'd like to get to that stage, because I remember how much I used to pursue multiple hobbies as well as multiple intellectual pursuits. The key here is to ruthlessly remove everything that's not contributing to my life overall — mere distractions, time-wastes, and other such things. Only then can one really focus on what matters. Only once one stops saying "how we go do am" will there be room in one's life for "we go run am."

[marissapaul]

1/6 day 12: Pop Culture & Spiritual Feminism

our last day! it's only fitting that we end with an anzaluda reading. i enjoyed the discussion of fear in the interview we read today. specifically, the way that fear has been drilled into people growing up today. fear that if we don't or can't work that we won't be able to live anymore, fear that modern medicine has become inaccessible, fear that there is nothing we can do to escape capitalism. yet, as always, we are given actionable feedback. for it is possible to overcome that fear, it is possible to subvert capitalism, maybe not in its entirety, but in important and meaningful ways. from our readings earlier this semester talking about the economic shift to capitalism and the idea that capitalism necessitated a managerial class that was going to be willing to exploit others around them. i grew up with parents who were willing to do just that. and they spent my teenage years training me to do the same to those around me. but as i have wound my way through college and academia i have been able to find the root of those fears that my parents had instilled in me about not making enough money, not being in a lucrative enough career, etc. and now that i understand the economic system i live in, i know what place i want to occupy within or rather, outside of it.

i know that macklemore has an iffy reputation for it was certainly unfair and racially-motivated that he won the grammy over kendrick lamar, but i generally feel that macklemore has been aware of his privilege throughout his career, even if he continues to benefit from being white in a historically black profession. this song is all about unpacking his role as a white rapper and what it means to be privileged. there is one line in particular that goes "but the one thing the american dream fails to mention is i was many steps ahead to begin with" that quote has stuck with me even as i have grown past his liberal politics into leftism and liberationist politics. because that line is true of me as well. i may not have my mom's money anymore, but that doesn't change the fact that i did grow up with it, i went to a nice school, i have a jeep wrangler which is a vehicle that is commonly recognized as a marker of middle/upper-middle class status, and even though i am living paycheck to paycheck now, i have a college education and in four months i will have a masters degree. i may be queer and autistic but above all of that i am white and i grew up rich and that has set me many steps ahead. as i have become aware of my place in the world and how it actually functions and the ways in which the neat and orderly life of the suburbs is only predicated upon the suffering of others, this lyric stays in my mind to both ward away fear, and to remind me that even in my current situation where i am living off of a TA stipend, i have been given so many resources that have put me far ahead of those who weren't able to access those same resources and education that i have been gifted with. i refuse to be a part of that managerial class that abuses the people around me when i will always be far closer to poverty than i will be to the mounds of wealth that capitalism seeks to hoard for like fifty people out of a billion. i refuse to lead with anything other than love and empathy. and for that i have lost the financial support of my parents, but i am no longer afraid of not making enough money to live as they lived. for i do not want to live anywhere near the life they live. the world i envision is a fundamentally and drastically different one from the false comfort they enjoy.

the anzaluda interview also offered some solid closing insights on herbal medicines, this quote from page 224 in particular stood out to me, "if you take medicine for example, the man is always putting down herbal remedies because they're too available to everybody. because if you find out you can heal yourself on your own, without him, he's out of the job" that is such a powerful quote. and it wasn't until this class that i could appreciate the fullness of it. i grew up in and around the medical field (my first two years in college i was doing pre-med to be a pediatrician, and i grew up in and worked in a pediatric practice in houston, which is a city that is lauded for its medical facilities) and while i have found myself unpacking the white supremacist structures i grew up with over these past few years, this was one aspect of my childhood that i had yet to reckon with. so i am really thankful that we have repeatedly taken a look at alternative forms of healing including herbal remedies. i grew up hearing so much about the marvels of modern medicine, as if the people we have been studying haven't been healing each other for hundreds and thousands of years. of course, advancements have been made, but they remain inaccessible to the working class and so what advancements have really been made? healing through white institutions has only grown more and more inaccessible. even just having a baby in a hospital has become a truly tremendous expenditure. so of course people are turning to alternative medicines. medicines that the highly processed medicines we buy at the grocery store are based on, which is all predicated on stealing from indigenous healing knowledge. i am always trying to deconstruct what i grew up with, and i have the large swaths filled in, i am just now on a journey to deconstruct all the little pieces that may not show up in my daily life. i am thankful that this is a piece of that journey that we were able to look at in depth this semester.

there were two quotes from the forewords we read that stood out to me. the first is "I have heard from people that the book has helped change some minds (and hopefully hearts as well), but it has changed no one more than the women who contributed to its existence. It has changed my life so fundamentally…” and this is really how i feel about my thesis. all around me and throughout the past two years i have heard again and again that everybody hates their thesis, and that this is just a stepping stone to the "good" scholarship that you might create ten, fifteen years in the future. but i refuse to think that way about my thesis. i love my thesis. and while i hope that it might be useful to me, it has been useful me and to those that have worked on it with me and for that i am thankful. it has helped me and my friends work through our gender and sexuality and the ways we think about building community, it has introduced one of my advisors, dr. johnson, to transness in a depth that he hasn't studied before, i hope that dr. skidmore has been able to learn from me in the process of mentoring me, i know that she is proud of me and happy that i am here and so at the very least i have that aspect. there are so many people who have contributed to the creation of my thesis, all of whom have been changed by it and for that i am thankful no matter what happens and no matter how many or few people read it or draw strength from it. i, and those around me have benefitted from it and for that i love my thesis and look upon it with kind eyes and a kind heart.

the second quote is, "And yet to act is not enough. Many of us are learning to sit perfectly still, to sense the presence of the Soul and commune with Her. We are beginning to realize that we are not wholly at the mercy of circumstance, nor are our lives completely out of our hands." i think this is a really powerful statement for academics. we get so good at dissecting things and understanding why things shake out the way they do and the historical context of it and etc. etc. but we have to learn to be still. who knows if i will make a field-changing intervention, what i do know is that i am now able to sit still. i am able to commune with my soul and understand her without trying to logic and rationalize her thoughts. i may not make a lot of money, but i am far happier than my mom has ever allowed herself to be. for i grew up in the same economic system, but i have learned to sit still and from sitting still i have gained an optimism that i might live differently and outside of the constraints of capitalism and white supremacists structures. i will certainly always be less financially well-off than her. but i have my soul when she sold hers long ago so she might enjoy the luxuries of hoarded capital. if there is one thing that i have learned from history it is that history has not been a linear march towards liberation and progressivism. things ebb and flow, but people like me have always lived and loved and it is from them that i draw strength to live queerly. i live in a state that actively targets trans folks, yet i am not entirely a victim of circumstance. i have agency. i can live with love, kindness, and empathy and that is perhaps the most radical thing i might do in this life.

i hope that one day my mother can learn to sit still.

#Spotify

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

the [redacted for being sad] reminds me of in seventh grade when we asked the (awesome) english teacher why she had an acting degree and she said "we all had dreams once"

Here lies squidward's hopes and dreams

#personal #I mean the story behind it isn't like. THAT sad in the grand scheme of things #so I can tell it I just didn't feel like wasting more tags on something that was gonna make me sad #but if u want the full unredacted story here goes (it's v long): #my school never taught drama while I was there just bc there was no budget for it #there wasn't even a drama club for most of my time there #if I was really determined to take it I would have had to travel to another school several times a week #which I was willing to do. like. the other schools weren't that far away #but somehow my mother thought this would be an incredible burden on her? somehow? #bc she really didn't want me going to study drama for several reasons #but tried to be sneaky about it and be like ''well here's this drama club in the town centre u can go to! :)'' #and just kind of hoped that would be enough for me and that I wouldn't notice what she did #I just never brought it up again bc I knew I wasn't gonna get any support #ngl to this day I'm annoyed that she insulted my intelligence like that and that what I wanted didn't matter but we move #and that drama club was fun. went to it for like 3 years until I graduated and made some good friends #but as time went by and I got into a deeper spiral feeling useless and in a panic about my future and lack of passion #generally feeling like my future wasn't worth living #that feeling really started to fester and I just felt like shit forever #the last time I went to the drama club everyone was just chatting about how they wanted to get into acting #and all the auditions they had for stuff and I had to work so hard to hide the fact that I wanted to cry #bc I wanted that so desperately #I was going into a course I had 0 passion for. could see no future in for myself. didn't even think I was capable of completing #major Oof moment #*bdg voice* give up on your dreams of becoming an actor. you gotta give up on your dreams (clap clap) #the good news is that this doesn't really have a miserable ending #time has passed. I'm doing different stuff. I'm doing a course I'm 1. interested in 2. that has a future and 3. I'm decent at #and I'm actually okay with the life I'm currently living. I actually want a nice future in the games industry #and to have. like. a nice lil flat w a lil succulent plant and shit #both the big things and the little things about my future no longer bum me tf out #I'm just generally doing okay!! And I'm completely fine not studying drama for a lot of reasons

[drbtinglecannon]

Ok so my theory for "Darius is also a rebel" is he was one before Raine joined and Raine didn't know until after they got caught.

In Eda's Requiem, Raine was so determined to take out Darius & Eberwolf that they were willing to literally die for the cause until they realized Eda had a family she would've been leaving behind. If Raine had any inkling that Darius was either swayable to the cause or was already a part of it, Raine would've been upfront with Eda about that, so it's far more likely they didn't know.

It's also only after the exact moment when the two of them stopped playing that Darius finally found them. He & Eber figured out the "boots walking by themselves" bit several minutes before the Death Melody started, so I find it hard to believe that he wouldn't have found them sooner but also only found them immediately after the "almost dying" stopped. He must've known the area they were in beforehand and was purposely avoiding it, but after suffering from that type of magic realized he needed to "catch" Raine like Right Now before whatever that was started again and got him killed. He also conveniently only captured Raine despite knowing they weren't alone, leaving Eda behind to escape (the walking boots would've been a good tip off cuz they def weren't Raine's boots, but also when he caught Raine's crew he said quote: "Looks like we missed a few" so he knew there were multiple other witches lose).

He was able to capture Raine's crew and transport them like hundreds of miles away in a snap of his fingers, but while having both Raine & Eda in his goo somehow loses grip on Eda? Feels intentional.

When we factor this together with how Raine was unharmed when captured, how easily they were able to escape, AND how defensive Darius got when he saw Kikimora appear out of nowhere to recapture Raine herself, it all builds up to a convincing enough situation that he was trying to let Raine escape.

Also this line becomes significantly funnier if he was a rebel all along too

In Follies of the Coven Day Parade, Raine seems super chill but also unaware of what has happened a few weeks earlier. Kikimora even comments on how relaxed Raine seems

We were under the impression Raine did forget, but as revealed in the most recent ep they were just acting. Raine famously has stage fright, and while that may not affect acting abilities (especially in the life or death situation they're in), I think a genuine boon to keeping up the facade would be knowing there's someone else on their side, i.e. Darius.

Darius has also been working with the other coven heads for way longer than Raine, and while I have no doubt Raine would be suspicious of Terra under normal circumstances, when Raine was captured they were completely indisposed. Someone had to have helped keep Raine safe from Terra's magic, or at the least warn them of it.

In Any Sport In Any Storm, we see a drastically different side to Darius than before. He not only willingly lets the captured kids go, he was going to personally deliver them back to their school. That's a kind of generosity and flexibility we haven't see in like, any other Coven Head. Even Lilith was more cutthroat towards Willow, Gus, and Luz during 'Agony Of A Witch'. Yeah, he threatened to attack them, but very easily backed down when Hunter asked him to.

He also expressed the importance of Hunter forming bonds outside the coven, gave him a phone to do so, and said he wouldn't tell Belos about this experience nor Hunter's palisman (which is a MASSIVE cover for Hunter's sake seeing as how illegal they are)

Seeing as Raine was the only Coven Head to even acknowledge Hunter when they all left the meeting, and the sympathetic/worried expression on their face, it's possible Raine holds the same concerns for Hunter not having anything outside the coven. I'm sure Hunter is necessary for the Day Of Unity in some really fucked up way, and it's possible Darius and/or Raine know how or at least have suspicions, which goes further with them both showing concern that he's so isolated.

Then finally in Them's The Breaks, Kid, we see this!

It feels redundant to point out how this has to be Darius but.

1. Abomination magic 2. Everyone in covens have been sealed to only their specific magic, so chances of other abomination users aside Darius being around are slim 3. It's got his hair like all of his creations do

Another bit that lends credence to both this being Darius and my earlier theory he intentionally let Eda go is the mini abomination immediately suggests asking Eda for help. If Darius and Raine are working together now, Raine probably told Darius how they did that Death Melody, which is probably why Darius is suggesting getting her involved again.

Anyway, Darius' design fucks and his use of magic is really cool, so I for one am very excited to see the potential full 180 from antagonist to secret good guy. If he stays an antagonist tho I'll still like him.

#toh spoilers #toh #toh raine whispers #toh darius #toh theory #toh meta #long post #the owl house #i think its more likely darius was already a rebel over raine convincing them post getting captured. i also think the og golden guard #plays some kind of role in why darius might be a rebel. he held a lot of respect for them but theyre suddenly gone & replaced with hunter #tc posts

[mystical-lemonade]

Jupiter~ I wondering if you can do a dorm leader reaction on witnessed someone put something on their s/o drink or food. (Maybe like a love potion or aphrosodiac).

I see something like this before and can't help but thought this is an interesting concept.

Warnings: spiking food/drink with a love potion.

Wordcount: 2,320

Pairings: Riddle Rosehearts x gn!reader, Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader, Azul Ashengrotto x gn!reader, Kalim Al Asim x gn!reader, Vil Shoenheit x gn!reader, Idia Shroud x gn!reader, Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

The students of Heartslabyul (+ the two honorary members, you and Grim) were at an Unbirthday party, and the tart that you had been given looked particularly divine

Riddle took one look at the vibrant red of the tart's filling and felt a bit jealous

So of course, you being a good significant other offered to switch with him. You'd take his maroon tart and he could have your strawberry one

So after the switch was made, Riddle, just about to take a bite from the tart heard a loud shout from down the table

"NO! Don't eat that dorm leader Rosehearts!"

Now that irritated him quite a bit, but in an effort to be better than before, Riddle decided to ask why.

When he heard the answer however, he failed to restrain his anger.

"What do you mean THERES A LOVE POTION IN THE TART. YOU MEAN  TO SAY YOU KNEW THAT AND YET WILLINGLY ATTEMPTED TO GIVE A DRUGGED TART TO MY UNSUSPECTING SIGNIFICANT OTHER"

The festivities came to a halt as the clear sound of a collar snapping around someone's neck rung out in the silence left after Riddle's outburst

Trey is immediately directed to dispose of any suspicious tarts. While Cater is instructed to ensure that you are in good health

Riddle will be personally taking the poor sod to the headmaster and demanding his immediate expulsion

Unluckily for that student Riddle can be influential, and Headmaster Crowley was always one to listen to those with influence ( aka $$$)

Once that has been taken care of, expect Riddle to spend the rest of the day pampering you. After almost being drugged, you deserve it.

The moment Leona saw that Pomfiore student tip a vial into your glass he saw red

He immediately snatched your drink out of your hand and dumped the contents over the head of the idiotic student

No way was he letting that drink be anywhere but over the moron's clothes

His arm came to rest across your back, pulling you into his side. The student spluttering indignantly, his pristine uniform now stained, and if that weren't  enough motivation for him to turn tail and leave, then Leona's growl certainly was.

Leona then takes you to the Botanical Gardens so you can join him for his nap. Its safer for you to be around him in that moment, so his brain stays far away from the thought of tearing that stuck up herbivore's throat out with his teeth

Now Leona is smart when he wants to be, so he recognises that he can't just kill the guy for being so bold and disrespectful to his lover. An insult to you is an insult to him.

Plus he's already on thin ice after his overblot, so whatever plan he makes can not involve death. It also can't be bureaucratic, no thats too boring of a punishment.

He may not be able to kill him, but he does have resources. One of which is a money motivated Hyena, so a few more madol slipped into his pocket would be certain to ensure Ruggie was willing to discreetly make that Pomfiore student's life hell.

Social isolation, inexplicable misfortune, and a strange feeling of being haunted by an unseen persecutor would be more than enough for that moron to go running to Crowley, begging to be allowed to go home and never see this school again.

With a plan in mind Leona let's himself squeeze you tighter against his chest. You may not be allowed in on the plan, no he needs to keep your involvement in the situation far away from any prying eyes and ears so that it can't be blamed on you.

You may figure out that he did something to the student, but not the true extent of his involvement in the boy being driven out of the school.

Now Azul will always be the first to admit that he has made more enemies than he's made friends

However he thought he had been keeping a tight enough leash on all those under contract, that none would attempt retribution

He was unfortunately very wrong

Thus the call Jade placed to his office was quite shocking to him.

The news that his significant other had almost been given food that had been tampered with by one of the servers. Sent him out the doors and into the lounge proper to confront this himself

Luckily for you, Floyd managed to see the guppy put something strange on your pasta before it was sent out to you; and he gleefully took it upon himself to intervene until Jade could get Azul down to the restaurant proper

Once the server had been restrained and Azul had made it back down to Mostro Lounge, the story was explained to Azul in full

"A server tampering with a customer's food is already a grave sin, but for you to have the audacity to tamper with my significant other's food, well that simply can't be allowed to slide. Perhaps having some play time- excuse me, retraining sessions, with the Twins will make you see the error of your ways."

The grins the twins directed at the unfortunate server made him start to shake in fear, especially after he was dragged away, in a very uncomfortable grip by Floyd.

Luckily for Azul and you, the twins were very good at making sure those entrusted to their care were quiet while they worked.

Also lucky, was the fact Azul then cleared his schedule for you in order to make sure you were not only okay, but that you knew he would always be there to help you.

The rest of the evening was spent in each others arms, watching a movie and relaxing from such a stressful evening.

Kalim loved when he got to see his s/o come out and enjoy one of his parties

So when the food was about to arrive for the dinner he was hosting

He pulled you from the dance floor and over to his favourite seat, practically pulling you onto his lap in his excitement

Doesn't really register anything was wrong until you were about to take a bite of the lamb dish you were handed

"Wait! That...smells wrong. I don't know what that is thats making it weird, but please don't eat it. Just in case."

Kalim takes the plate from you and asks Jamil to smell it as well

When Jamil says that based off the smell and colour it is most likely a very powerful love potion that had been added to the food, Kalim is furious.

He immediately has that entirety of the lamb dish thrown out and demands that the student who served the dish to you be brought before him

Kalim then asks why he did it, what he wanted out of the attempted drugging

When he hears that the student wanted you to love him and not Kalim; well Kalim found himself not being too forgiving any longer

The rest of the students are happy to oblige, so the punishment for the offender is swiftly carried out.

He is to be banned from the dorm and must sleep in the desert for the rest of the year, as well as have this incident marked on his record permanently

Kalim then leaves Jamil to oversee the punishment while he checks up on you

"Are you okay? You're not feeling anything right. You didn’t eat anything else at the party? Okay Y/N, just let me know if you feel ill later, and we'll go to the nurse."

It is well known that Vil often gets fan gifts, and to nobody's surprise he doesn't actually keep many of them.

So as his delightful significant other, you often get offered some of them.

Which was the case when a tray of beautifully made chocolate truffles was handed to you, one evening that you came to visit Vil.

"Wow Vil these seem expensive. I mean, smell them my Love.  Mm, is that hibiscus! Oo and rose, lavender and... rosemary? Yes I think that's rosemary."

At that Vil's head shot up, "did you happen to say rosemary was the last ingredient Sweet potato?"

At that affirmation, Vil lifted one to his nose, looking distinctly suspicious he crushed the truffle between his fingers. It oozed a strange pink liquid that bubbled when it came in contact with the table below.

He was very disappointed, how could someone willingly send such a disgusting gift to a person, let alone a celebrity.

It only took him a moment to realise you had put one in your mouth, his immediate frazzled and angered demand for you to spit it out and rinse out your mouth was enough of a shock you complied.

Vil instantly took to texting his managers informing them of this grievous error and to warn them to watch out for any and all future attempts from the sender of the gift.

All the while he kept a reassuring hand on your back, Vil was very mad but definitely not at you. No he simply wanted to ensure you knew that he was there for support  before he explained what it was

"Sweet Potato, 6 you need to let me or Rook know if you start feeling ill, okay? That pink stuff was the highest strength love potion that a non mage can possibly make. And it is very illegal."

The rest of your time with him is spent simply relaxing with each other. Its best to forget that that event even happened in the first place, since stressing would only give wrinkles.

Idia doesn't often leave his room, the real world is distasteful and full of loud people. People that all want to talk, and to touch him, and who could make fun of him

Needless to say the fact you managed to get him out of his dorm room and out to a movie for the premiere was a miracle in and of itself

He wasn't enjoying the preshow trailers too much due to all the chatter around him. It was driving his anxiety through the roof, and now all he could do was scan his eyes across the room as quickly as possible as to be vigilant to any strange threats

The sound of your bottled water dropping onto the ground made him jump, and when he saw a strange hand reach down and give it back to you Idia was all but ready to drag you back home.

He signed up for a good time watching a movie with you, not social interaction with a stranger. So he stared, hypervigilant about every move that the stranger made.

Which was the only reason he notice that the bottle the stranger had picked up was tucked under his arm

He took his already open bottle of and a small pink vial of liquid was dumped into it discreetly. A quick swirl of the bottle had the water inside fading back to a clear colour.

To Idia's horror the tampered with bottle was passed back to you. No way in hell was he about to let some normie punk taint anything of yours. So thinking quickly he spoke up, his hand on his own drink.

"Excuse me sir. But I believe you handed my significant other the wrong bottle, that one has already been opened. Theirs was still sealed when it was dropped." The stranger now having been called out quickly exchanged the bottles before Idia raised his drink in a sarcastic toast as the stranger scampered away.

"Idia, um thanks for that but. Why-"

"He put something in the other one and tried to hand it to you. I wasn't going to just let him do something like that...plus I got it all on video so I'll totally destroy him later~"

You know with the way you were clinging to his arm, like he was the hero who saved you, the sweet innocent princess from the dastardly demon King's clutches, made him almost glad he came out with you. Afterall he got to protect you from some random creep, and he's certain that that maxed out his intimacy points with you.

Malleus is very quick to notice when something harmful was added to your food

He was deeply angry that someone attempted to poison the mind of the person whom he holds most dear to him

And the fact that it was one of his own retainers that did it ensured he would be shown no mercy by Malleus

Of course he gives the honours of extracting the retainer's motivations to Lilia. And those motivations simply baffle Malleus; using a love potion to make his Rose cheat on him, in an attempt to cause Malleus to break up with you, so he can move on to someone 'more suitable for a prince'. Ridiculous

The pleading and apologies do nothing to dissuade Malleus to not go through with the punishment, in fact it makes him far more willing than if the poor sod just stayed silent

They are dealt with quickly and without much fuss, afterall Malleus has no time to deal with such scum when he could be doing far better things with his time

Its only after the traitorous retainer was removed that Malleus allows himself to be amused by the shere boldness that Knight showed in attempting such a terrible action

Of course you would never hear of this incident, why should he worry his Rose with such trivial matter such a jealous and idiotic Knight when he's been dealt with.

The only indicator of such an event occurring would be that he showed more public affection towards you the next time you met.

It's subtle, but anyone else around him could see he was making it very clear that anyone who makes the same mistake as that former man, will be treated to the same fate.

Thank you for the request Dear. I made the substance given love potions in all of them so it's a little less like the roofies of real life, hope you don't mind terribly. Either way, please enjoy these protective boys.

If you liked the post and want to see more from me feel free to send me a request . See you soon~

Sincerely Jupiter

#disney's twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland riddle #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland leona #twst leona #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland azul #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland kalim #twst kalim #kalim al asim #twisted wonderland vil #vil shoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #idia shroud #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst x reader #twst dorm leaders