#<- it's literally my fault but at least it was worse after i left so like yall saw some shit but didnt see some SHIT

[p1ckthep01son]

omg hi welcome back this is so exciting

i have to be very moderate about how much site time i'm allowed (brain is susceptible to posts unfortunately) but it is so much fun to pop in here every now and then and still see a handful of people be like "bambi!". it's so sweet i could shed a tear i'm being so fr. i will strongly advise anybody who wants to more regularly talk to me to message me on discord (dm me here for that i suppose?) but i will absolutely be popping in here now and then when i can. will also 100% be posting all my cruise content when i get home. rare moment of being genuine on the blog but tbh some of yall are really nice to me and also people messaging me while ive been away to check in and seeming genuinely worried like. you guys are so sweet. i feel bad being weird and vague and leaving some people in the dark. i exist! i am here a little! bilvy!

[augustvandyne]

Hi I wanted to ask if you would write a Lucy Chen imagine. Where the reader is also a police officer and gets hurt badly, so Lucy is very worried. Just fluff with a bit of angst.

Thank you very much.

ofc ofc ofc!

backup

Lucy could tell it was going to be bad by the shake of your voice on the radio. You’d shakily asked for backup, but it was too late.

You and Lucy hadn’t been riding together that day, and that was the worst decision Sergeant Grey had ever made.

You were assigned to a shop with yourself, while Lucy was with Tim.

She didn’t understand. She’d seen you twenty minutes ago, tops. But from there the two of you had went separate ways.

Her voice broke, “Tim,” as soon as your voice had disappeared, and with one look at the woman, he stepped on the gas.

Tim gave her the spiel, if she wasn’t able to handle it, she’d have to step aside until you were safely transported to the hospital, where Tim would take her right after this, along with the rest of the station.

To say the way you looked was bad, was an understatement. The sight of you had everyone speechless, even Nyla.

“Conscious, but unresponsive,” Nolan is able to get out over the lump in his throat.

The man you were obviously up against looked worse than you, if that’s even possible. He took a shot to the chest, and was DOA.

You, on the other hand, had taken several shots and several cuts. There were bruises starting to form along your body and blood pouring out of your cuts.

Bailey has to keep her tears from falling as she and her team load you onto a stretcher.

Lucy stands by the side the whole time, trying to keep her tears at bay, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t let a few slip.

Tim and the rest of the team escorted you to the hospital, following behind the ambulance that was going more than a few miles over the speed limit.

By the time Lucy had gotten to the hospital her face was red from rubbing her tears away and her hair was messy from her running her hands through it.

She’s out of the car and by your side before it’s even in park.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy can’t even look at you. She knows it isn’t her fault, but she can’t help but blame herself. She had a bad feeling the whole twenty minutes since she’d saw you, and she should’ve known. “Y/n, you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna be here the whole time, okay? I’m not leaving until you’re sick of me.”

The nurses push you through, an O.R. already ready for you, as you are a loved face all over LA—the station, the community center, the hospital.

When the doors close, and Lucy can no longer follow, Tim is there to bring her into a tight hug.

He needed it just as bad as she did.

Lucy quite literally breaks down it his arms, and Tim isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays standing there with a broken Lucy in his arms until the rest of the team found the two of them.

The group went around hugging Lucy, which was greatly appreciated by her because she needed it, and that’s why everyone embraced her.

The two of you were at the height of your relationship, and so she was more in love with you than ever.

She was going to marry you, and she knew it, so she couldn’t let you die now.

Sergeant Grey granted Lucy a few days off to get you back up and on your feet, which she gratefully took.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

By the time your surgery was done, not a single person had left the hospital.

Tim had tried to get Lucy to go to the cafeteria to eat with him, and to get her to go home to get some things for you and herself, but she wouldn’t even budge.

Nyla had brought her at least two cups of coffee, but Lucy had just let them sit. She was still in shock.

Tim sat on Lucy’s right, while Nyla sat on her left.

Those three were the three most important people in your life.

Lucy was the love of your life. The reason you kept going. You’d attended the academy together, but you were a year behind her, so she’d never really spoken to you. Maybe once or twice at the bar, but that was it.

Tim was your best friend. Any problems you had, you took right to him. On your off days, he’d take you to your favorite food truck and did whatever he could to cheer you up, because when you were sad, there was no light in any room.

Then there was Nyla. Your T.O., mentor, teacher, whatever you wanted to call her. She would never admit it, but you were her favorite. You’d won her over in the first week, and that was a Nyla Harper record.

So here were your three favorite people, all praying you’d make it through this surgery, and then make it through the night.

The nurse that comes out happens to be friends with Tim, so he is able to sweet talk her into letting the three of them come see you in the ICU.

Even though you aren’t awake, Lucy, Tim, and Nyla want to see that you are okay and breathing.

You looked better.

The cuts had bandages over them, and most of the dirt on your face had been washed off.

You’d only taken two actual shots to your body—your ankle and your shoulder. Any other shots had been caught by the vest. That was evident from the bruises formed on your chest.

One of your legs had been cut up pretty badly, and it had stitches. Lucy knew you’d be self conscious over the big gash that ran horizontal on your thigh.

Nyla lets out a loud sigh, her hands on her lower back as she stares at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

“Where was her goddamn backup?” Nyla lowers her guard for a second when a tear falls down her face.

“Nolan was on his way,” Tim keeps his jaw clenched, his hands in his pockets to keep himself from doing something he’d regret. “He said he was responding. I don’t— I don’t know. He—“

Lucy stands in the corner next to Nyla, afraid to speak.

Seeing Tim and Nyla so distraught has Lucy’s tears come back. Her heart breaks and drops to the ground all over again, and it definitely doesn’t feel good.

“God, if I’d have drove faster, maybe—“

“Don’t blame yourself,” Nyla takes a seat in the chair by your side, holding one of your hands in hers. “Don’t blame anyone. It’s no one’s fault but the man who did this.”

“I had a bad feeling,” Lucy has to bite her lip to keep herself from breaking down again.

“Lucy—“

“No,” Lucy scoffs. “I should have known.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Lucy is still asleep by the time you wake up. Nyla and Tim agreed to take turns staying with Lucy until you were discharged from the hospital. Which would be in a few days.

You had a bit of internal bleeding, so the doctors want to keep you for a few days to watch over you.

Tim is in the cafeteria grabbing some air and coffee. The two of you were asleep, so he figured he could have at least ten minutes to himself.

You wake Lucy when you’re reaching for the water, your throat was uncomfortably dry.

Lucy is immediately grabbing the cup and pitcher and pouring you water.

“Lucy—“

“Don’t talk,” Lucy feels her eyes watering again.

“Then don’t cry,” You whisper. You try to reach out and wipe her tears, but it pains you due to the shot in your arm. “I think my arms broken.”

Lucy laughs, glad to have some relief after those last agonizing hours without you.

“You were shot in the foot and shoulder. Your shoulder is broken, baby, but you’ll be okay. You have a large cut on your right thigh, too. I’ll take you to physical therapy, and you’ll be as good as new, okay? Grey gave me the next week or so off, but if you need more time with me, I will stay off longer. You’ll be back soon enough—“

It takes everything in you to lean forward and kiss Lucy.

“It’s okay, Luce,” You smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lucy’s features soften.

“Lay with me,” You insist.

“Are you sure you won’t break another bone moving over?”

“Lay with me,” You say more aggressive this time so Lucy knows you aren’t kidding.

“Okay, fine,” Lucy fits in the spot you open up for her, despite the pain it caused to open it, it was totally worth it. “Now, let me tell you about how I saw Tim crying.”

Tim decides to come in at that moment.

“Oh— you’re awake,” Tim’s brows raise.

“Come and sit,” You turn your head towards him as he sits in the chair beside your bed. “Lucy was just about to tell me about how big and bad Timmy was spotted crying.”

Tim rolls his eyes but listens anyways.

[finniestoncrane]

Teehee could you do headcanons about the Riddler's reactions to their partner being cockdrunk :) pretty please

Riddler Headcanons oh for SURE lmao, i mean one and done they're all getting a massive ego boost from it but i'm so certain they'd all use it to their advantage in different ways (though i left some out because they were giving similar vibes to others in my mind) 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: nsfw obviously, mentions of sex etc.

telltale

peepaw is not playing around here

the minute he realises you're slurring your words he is honing in

teasing you, touching your skin to watch your flesh tremble

making things worse for you, watching you squirm

knoiwng you don't have the mental capacity to stop him

knowing you don't want him to stop

it's a nice boost to know he's still got it all these years later

arkham

yeah he's not at all surprised because he is the greatest

and to be honest you should have been prepared for this

like why didn't you have an energy drink by the bed to chug

it's his fault you're like this, because he's a sexpert, duh

but get up and get back to work!!

robots need building, floors need sweeping, plans need planning

there's no rest for the wicked, and judging by your squirming...

you're still in quite a wicked mood, even after his amazing efforts

gotham

you can lie there in the little puddle you helped create

forget who you are, forget you're human even!

there's no need to get up and do anything because he's on it

bringing you water, a sugary snack, and a towel

he'll help you sit up, fluff the pillow behind you, and then lay down

gazing at you in awe, reaching to help you

as you struggle to hold the mug in your shaking hands

young justice

i think he'd go into panic mode immediately

are you not talking to him because he didn't do a good job?

have you died? why are you just laying there drooling in silence?

oh! because he did good!? wow... well...

how soon can you go again? because that was a neat ego boost

and it's got him primed and ready for another round

dano

you lay there in blissful post-orgasm glow for as long as you need

he's going to be next door in the bathroom gazing into the mirror

smiling widely at himself, pretending like he's doing a speech

thanking the audience for giving him this prestigious award

"best fuck ever" going to him? edward nashton?

he couldn't have done it without you, his wonderful partner

who he has just remembered is still laying naked in his bed

and who he is now rushing back to

zero year

so here's the thing: while you should be the one getting up

ruining the post-orgasm joy to get him a drink and a towel

he will take your inability to respond to his demands well

it's a compliment really, he fucked you so good that you're dumb

or at least dumber than you were before *hehe, ow, don't hit!*

unfortunately he will be bragging about this to everyone

literally anyone who will listen

so it's not much of a secret that you got drunk off his cock

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Oh No, There’s Only One Bed

Bradley Bradshaw x reader 2k words summary: The hotel is all booked out and now you have to share a room with Bradley Bradshaw. Worse, you have to share a bed. 

there’s not much plot in this. so like dont get your hopes up. im not happy with how it turned out

prequel to “Oh No, There's An Arm Around My Waist”, can be read seperately tho

top gun masterlist

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

You couldn’t help yourself, already regretting the words once they’d left your mouth. The poor receptionist played no part in this - it wasn’t his fault. You weren’t usually this rude to hotel staff. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but we’re all booked out for tonight. It’s a twin room or no room at all.”

“C’mon, we can make it work.” 

You looked up at Bradley like he was out of his mind. And he even had the audacity to grin at you. “It’s just one night.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

You couldn’t believe that he was actually supporting this dumb fucking idea. “We can’t share a room. We can’t share a bed, Bradshaw.” 

He raised his eyebrows and you bit your lip, mentally roundhouse-kicking yourself in the face. Why did you have to be so obviously avoidant? Your fight-or-flight was kicking in at the mere proposal. It was too obvious. Were normal people as desperately opposed to the idea of sharing a bed with a friend? Probably not. So why the fuck were you? 

Because maybe Bradley was not just a friend. 

Because maybe you were totally in love with him. And because maybe you’d rather die than ever admit that and get rejected. 

“I mean-” You scrambled for words, for a quick excuse that would make sense, that would save you from at least some of the embarrassment. “You know, like, we’re friends. Friends don’t share a bed.” 

Welp, that did not work. Horrible miss. Dart stuck in the wall-kind of miss. 

“I’ll build a pillow wall if that makes you feel better”, Bradley promised, failing to hide his amusement. You clenched your jaw. 

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. 

“There’s other hotels”, you tried, desperate to find a different solution. 

“Yeah”, he nodded, almost too enthusiastically. “Sure. Because those aren’t booked out.” 

Alright. So maybe he had a point. 

The only options here were sleeping on the floor of a subway station in San Diego or sharing a bed with him. And the fact that you actually took two seconds debating whether getting chlamydia would be worth not having to sleep pressed up against Bradley’s (warm and very comfortable) chest in a clean bed told you enough about just how far you’d fallen for him already. You were in too deep. And after tonight, you’d be a goner. 

But you really, really did not want to spend the night on the subway. 

“Fuck this”, you muttered, turning back to the poor receptionist who looked like he’d rather be on the subway getting chlamydia himself than here and forcefully smiled at him. “We’ll take the room, thank you.”

...

The door swung open and you blindly reached for the light switch, flipping it on before trudging into the room with your suitcase in one hand and the keys in the other. 

You parked the suitcase in some random corner, threw your jacket onto the tiny table and looked up only to see that Bradley had already claimed the left side of the bed, arms and legs spread out, eyes closed. There was a lump in your throat as you watched him breathe that should not have been there. Neither should the flutter in your tummy. Neither should the heat in your cheeks when he opened his eyes and caught you staring. 

“This is like some fucked up scene straight out of a shitty rom-com”, you complained - the only thing you knew how to do so you wouldn’t drool. He looked way too attractive doing literally nothing. You were not okay with that. Especially now that you had to share the bed with him. 

He tucked his hands behind his head (his biceps flexed ridiculously) and chuckled. 

“You love rom-coms”, he reminded you. 

“Yeah, but only good ones with actual plot and characters that have personality.” 

(This was, in itself, an absolute and total lie and Bradley definitely knew that. He was right - you loved rom-coms. You loved all of them. Especially the shitty ones with no plot whatsoever except “Oh we’re two idiots in love”. But you’d thought it would be much more fun if life played out like that - you hadn’t thought it would be like this.) 

“You’re a bad liar”, he laughed, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you. 

“Am not”, you protested. He hummed. 

“You definitely are.” 

Then he patted the other side of the bed again. “Stop pouting and get in.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, bending down to put your suitcase on the ground and undo the zipper. 

“Gotta change first, Bradshaw. You can build that pillow wall while I’m in the bathroom.” 

His chuckle followed you even as you closed the door behind you half a minute later and it took you longer than it should have to change into pajamas - shout out to your shaking hands - partly because you spent five minutes brushing your teeth, looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to calm your nerves by telling your reflection all kinds of reassurances. (”It’s just one night” and “If you stay on your side you won’t even know he’s there” and “You’ll both be asleep anyway”)

You almost had a heart attack when you left the bathroom again. 

Because yes, Bradley was still in bed, and that in itself was stressful enough. But mainly because he’d kicked the covers to his feet and his pajamas, if one could call it that, consisted only of his briefs. 

At least he had the decency to look apologetic. 

“Sorry”, he said, gesturing at himself. “I don’t have sleepwear with me. I usually sleep naked.” 

Because of course he did. Of course Bradley fucking Bradshaw slept naked. 

“Uh”, you managed, mind completely blank. You were very, very much aware of the fact that you should say something. You just did not have the mental capacity to come up with anything whatsoever. 

There was a goddamn Adonis in your bed. 

If you’d thought you weren’t wearing much before (because you really weren’t, you’d expected San Diego to be warm and had only packed a skimpy little nightgown) then Bradley was wearing literally nothing. 

And, well, he kind of was wearing nothing. 

Couldn’t he at least have kept the covers up? But no. You knew him. He was basically a live heating pad. He’d die if he pulled them up.

“Okay”, you eventually managed to croax out, forcing your feet to work, to carry you to the right side - your side - of the bed, to flick on the lamp on your bedside table and turn off the big one, all without thinking. “Yeah, no worries.” 

“Good.” He nodded his head for what had to be the better part of ten full seconds. “Good.” 

The silence felt awkward. You were just sitting on the edge of the bed and he was propped up on his elbows on his side, staring holes into the air, not saying anything. Eventually he cleared his throat. 

“Wanna, like, sleep?” 

“Oh, yeah.” You busied yourself with the covers so you wouldn’t have to look at him, carefully sliding underneath them. “Yeah, we probably should.” 

Only the rustling of the sheets filled the room until you were finally lying flat on the mattress, head resting on the pillow, and then there was silence again and you wanted to scream. This was more uncomfortable than anything else had ever been with him. Usually it was easy and light and that was why you liked him so much, that was why the two of you had initially become friends at all, but this... this was so heavy. Like something looming over the two of you that neither was addressing, just staring at it, aware that it was there but not doing anything about it. 

This time, you cleared your throat, reached for the bedside lamp and turned that off too. The room was dark without it. You could only make out his contours next to you, hear the sound of his breath. 

“Good night then”, you whispered, listening as his sheets rustled as well as he lay back, turning onto his side so that he was facing you. For a moment you felt the urge to do the same, but before you could even think about moving you were already swatting the idea away with an imaginary broom and locking it out of your imaginary house. Like hell you were gonna face him. Nuh-uh. You’d rather take the subway and the chlamydia after all. 

“Good night”, he said softly, adjusting his hands one final time before the quiet of the night enveloped the two of you. 

You tried to even your breathing, to focus on anything but him so close to you. You needed to sleep and you needed to sleep quick. But your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast and so loud that you could hear it, your skin was burning up and you felt like you were about to lose it. 

You managed about five minutes before you turned away from him, onto your side, in hopes that that would make it better. 

It didn’t. 

Five minutes after that, you tried lying on your stomach. Which, to nobody’s surprise, worked no better. It took almost fifteen minutes for you to find the courage to turn onto your right side, to turn so that you were facing him after all. He hadn’t moved an inch. 

In fact, he hadn’t tried to sleep at all. 

When you turned and caught sight of him (bare chest and messy hair and fuck) you almost screamed. His eyes were wide open, watching you, reflecting the little moonlight that was flooding through the windows. 

“Jesus”, you whispered, pressing a hand to your chest as he grinned, his face mere inches from yours. “Bradley, you scared the hell out of me.”

He didn’t even react to that. 

“Can’t sleep?”, he asked instead. He was so close that you could feel his breath on your skin when he spoke. You had to swallow.

“No”, you admitted. For a moment you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, maybe he’d fallen asleep, but then he moved his arms and you felt a shiver down your spine when his fingertips brushed over the exposed skin of your arms. He wrapped one arm around your waist, his palm resting on the small of your back, and pulled you closer to him. So close that your knees bumped into his thighs. So close that your hands bumped into his torso. So close that your nose bumped into his throat. 

All of them were innocent touches: chaste, easy, light. His skin was barely grazing yours. But they were enough. 

Enough to go crazy over. Enough to hold your breath for a good half minute. 

“Relax”, he muttered, his other hand threading through your hair and holding you just as close as the one on your back.

You swallowed hard. 

“Bradley”, you murmured, not knowing just yet what you were going to say. Maybe you would have pulled away. Or maybe you would have bit the bullet and, for once in your life, taken the chance - maybe you would’ve told him right then and there just what you felt for him. Because friends certainly didn’t do this. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and immediately silencing your inner monologue. “Tomorrow. Just sleep for now.” 

[lizhly-writes]

hi. we're back to svsss again. i read Asymptotical's Many an Ill to Cure yesterday. There was this line that sort of caught in my head:

If this bit of lore was true, then Yue Qingyuan was married to Shang Qinghua of all people, and that was about the only matchup he could think of that was possibly worse than pairing Shen Qingqiu with Liu Qingge.

and my brain.... ran with it. not for very long, because i really don't have a GREAT grasp of these characters and also i should absolutely be doing something else. but here you go.

At the ripe old age of twenty-something, Shang Qinghua had successfully lied and cheated his ass off to become the An Ding Head Disciple. It absolutely didn't mean his troubles were over -- it was still An Ding, and An Ding always meant backbreaking work, no matter how high up you climbed, and haha also there was still the entire fucking plot left. But at least he had a really nice house now! At least people had to pretend to respect him! At least the System wouldn't keep that fucking countdown clock in the corner of his eye about how he had X months to make Head Disciple before it nuked his brain into a crisp!

Overall, things were going about as great as could be expected!

Except for, you know, this... this one little thing.

"What???" Shang Qinghua said, when Shizun had first lobbed it at his head.

The Lord of An Ding Peak looked askance at him. Shang Qinghua cleared his throat and tried again. "Begging this one's pardon, but... but could Shizun repeat that?"

"You'll be engaged to Yue Qingyuan," said the An Ding Peak Lord.

Yeah, that's what Shang Qinghua thought Shizun said.

FUCK!

This was his fault. Like, literally everything was his fault, seeing how he was effectively God, but this was a mistake that he didn't have to make! You could argue about the violence and the papapa, but in the end, he was speed-writing a stallion novel for money so he didn't starve.

But the engagement.

Airplane-Shooting-Towards-The-Sky had been trying to explain exactly why so many young, beautiful, cold cultivators were so eager to get with Bing-ge, even if they seemed to hate literally any other person ever. He'd eventually settled on the idea that in PIDW, even cultivators weren't truly respected as adults until they were married. In other words, marriage was a requirement! A spouse was a job position! Of course Bing-ge's wives would sell out for the best possible candidate, even if they were ambitious power-hungry snakes without a romantic bone in their body! Especially if they were ambitious power-hungry snakes without a romantic bone in their body!

In fact, even the Peak Lords of Cang Qiong did it! They were even married to each other! Even the Sect Leader! Haha, it wasn't so weird after all!

God. It would have been fine if he left it without explanation. It wasn't even like he kept the explanation -- no, he wrote it and forgot about it, just like how he did with half of the shit he wrote sleep-deprived and running on caffeine alone. And now he was stuck with this.

"Do you have any objections?" Shizun said, and then Shang Qinghua had to go noooo, of course not, Yue Qingyuan was a mighty and handsome cultivator who topped the unofficial rankings for most eligible bachelor on Cang Qiong for three years straight! How could this lowly Shang Qinghua possibly have any objections?

It was super lucky that Shen Qingqiu was too busy being engaged with Liu Qingge to murder Shang Qinghua for the affront.

Anyway, that was how Shang Qinghua had ended up here -- alone with Yue Qingyuan, sitting across from each other and drinking tea. There was a plate of delicately shaped cakes sitting between them that Shizun had heavily suggested Shang Qinghua should make. You know, to show off his culinary skills to his... his fiance.

“Shang-shidi," Yue Qingyuan said, turning a cake over in one hand. There was some muffled yelling in the background. Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge were clearly having a great time of their own scheduled courtship meeting session.

"Yue-shixiong," Shang Qinghua said. "Hi."

Yue Qingyuan's smile didn't waver. "These are very good," he said politely.

Of course they were good. Shang Qinghua wouldn't have been able to successfully suck up to Shizun if they weren't good. It had taken a lot of practice! And sabotage! Practice AND sabotage!

"Haha, thanks," Shang Qinghua said.

Faintly, an explosion sounded in the background. Yue Qingyuan's brows furrowed slightly. "Shidi," he said. "Could you perhaps open the door?"

[sebastianswallows]

Hello! Could I offer you a prompt? I often see fics about Ominis experiencing sight for the first time, but how about Slytherin!MC being the one afflicted with a temporary blindness, and now having to rely on Ominis for guidance, 'seeing' the world from his perspective? Maybe as a result of some unruly student's potion experiment? Thank you for your time and work!

Hello, nonny!

Thank you so much for an Ominis prompt! I love to write about this sweetest boy. And sorry this took so long, my dear 💚

Oh my though, I guess I don't read fics with him often enough, because I haven't noticed that many where he experiences sight. Not sure how I'd feel about those, because it... takes away from his character, sort of. I don't know.

Anyway! I have a fluffy little fic for you 😘 Hope you enjoy it!

I wrote it that it was all Garreth's fault, because of course.

— PAIRING: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

She cursed Garreth all the way to the Hospital Wing. The classroom was left in deathly silence after the Gryffindoor’s latest experiment had literally exploded in her face. Professor Sharp seemed… worried, but not very shocked. Clearly, things like that had happened before — especially since Garreth had started studying at Hogwarts. For his part, the boy seemed horribly contrite, or so he sounded as he fretted over her. She suspected at least half of his regret was due to the inevitably harsh detention he had to look forward to — perhaps something even worse, if the damage to her eyes proved permanent.

As she made her way through the castle, leaning on Sebastian and Natty — who both insisted to go with her, the sweethearts — she could think of nothing else. She couldn’t see anything. The last thing she had seen was Garreth’s smouldering cauldron where he was pointing out the way a particular piece of snail shell was melting, and then a great big flash of green, then blackness. She had thought for a moment that she’d fainted, but then she realised her eyes were open. By the time they reached the Nurse, her heart was still pounding at such a frantic rate she thought she was going to be sick.

“Well, she’s blind alright,” said Nurse Blainey after performing a few charms.

“What did you think? That I was lying?!”

“I will wring Garreth’s scrawny little nec—”

“Watch your tongue, Mr Sallow.”

“Can you fix it?” asked Natty in the most politely-frustrated voice she’d ever heard.

There followed a long discussion about what had caused it, which required them to bring Professor Sharp there — who, to his shame, hadn’t exactly been aware of what his students were doing — then Garreth — who also wasn’t sure what had happened with his potion, but he could at least list the ingredients he’d used.

All the while, she waited there in silence, hearing voices all around, footsteps echoing close and far, and tense, worried conversations. The Nurse had placed her in one of the beds in the corner while they decided what to do with her. Natty and Sebastian stayed by her side, quarrelling over what potions they could brew to cure her until she had to tell them to shut up.

By the time classes were done for the day, the Nurse had reached the conclusion that Garreth’s failed experiment, while exceedingly dangerous, would not affect her sight for long. Only a few weeks.

“A few weeks?!”

“Yes, two or three. Four if you’re unlucky.” She could hear the woman shrug.

“What am I supposed to do for three weeks? How can I study? How—”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re not our only blind student. I’m sure Mr Gaunt can be of some help to you during this time.”

She recoiled at hearing it. “I don’t want to be a burden to—”

“Nonsense,” said Sebastian from somewhere behind her. “Ominis would do it happily!”

“I would,” said the boy. A pause followed as everyone else realised he’d entered the room. From the sound of it, he was standing a few feet in front of her.

The Nurse was happy with this arrangement, which meant fewer responsibilities for her. Professor Sharp breathed a sigh of relief, after which he promised to write to her parents and inform them. Sebastian and Natty, meanwhile, were disgustingly supportive, trying all the while to cheer her up. She shunned all of them, and would only go back to the Common Room with Ominis.

“Do you wish to have dinner first?” he asked quietly as they walked out of the Hospital Wing arm in arm.

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled. “…Wait, are you?”

Ominis chuckled. “Could send Sebastian out to the kitchens to bring us something… He would do it. Careful, stairs.”

They went down step-by-step, and all through the castle, and after what felt like too long they finally made it to the Slytherin Common Room. She knew she was slowing them down, and Ominis didn’t deny it, but he was supportive the whole way — and not in that fretful, exaggerated, compensatory way Sebastian and Natty were, and not in the anxious manner of Garreth…

If Ominis was worried about her condition, he didn’t show it. As cool and calm as the lake, as sturdy as the rock Hogwarts was built on, he was by her side from the first moment.

The first order of business, while Sebastian fetched them a late dinner, was for her to learn the echolocation spell Ominis used to walk around.

“No, don’t hold it pointing down,” he said as he guided her hand. “Straight forward is better.”

“But what if I stumble onto something?”

“The spell will detect it in time.”

“Well I’m not feeling anything yet…”

“Just… try to cast it harder.”

“Cast it harder? You’re terrible at teaching spells. I want Sebastian back.”

“Yes, well, Sebastian can’t cast it,” mumbled Ominis.

“What can’t I cast?” asked the boy as he dashed into the Common Room.

She could already smell ham and cheese and the salty-sweet aroma of cold sausages. Two plates clinked as Sebastian placed them on the table by the fireplace, where she and Ominis were standing.

“My echolocation spell.”

“Ah yes, can’t cast that,” he said, followed by the soft floof of him plopping on the sofa.

They didn’t make much progress on that first night. His wand was far more accustomed to performing it than hers — but the promise of being able to learn it helped her sleep that night, after an hour or so of crying in fear and anger.

Waking up the next day was disorienting. She felt herself wake, she felt her eyes open, but not seeing anything seemed so… unreal. She nearly panicked all over again. Being in the dungeons, there was no sunlight to feel on her skin to let her know whether it was even morning, but then she heard the other girls shuffling around the room.

Imelda led her to the washroom, and later helped her dress — and for once, she didn’t have a snarky thing to say.

“Must be quite a nightmare,” the girl commented in what she perhaps imagined to be a sympathetic tone. “Can’t imagine flying in this state…”

“Yes, well, thanks Imelda, neither can I…”

She was relieved to hear Ominis’ voice again when she came downstairs.

“Over here!”

“How did you know it was me?” she asked, arms stretched in front of her in what she was sure must’ve been comical.

“You have a distinctive magical echo.”

“Do I…?”

“And Sebastian told me.”

“Morning,” the boy grinned from behind his friend.

Still, Ominis must certainly have been good at detecting where she was, because she felt his hand cup hers within seconds.

“How do you do that?” she asked.

“Just followed the sound of your voice,” he smiled.

“It all sounds the same to me…”

“You might think it does now, but eventually you’ll find it’s easy to tell distance by sound… The whole castle has very good acoustics for this sort of thing, in fact.”

“You make it seem so easy,” she smiled, her eyes tearing up at the sheer scope of all she had to learn to just survive the next few weeks.

“I promise you’ll find it easy too,” said Ominis, placing his warm hand on top of hers as she held his arm. “Open fields, now that can be an issue. But inside, here? You’ll get used to it in no time.”

Sebastian followed them for breakfast, but walked at a bit of a distance, letting Ominis explain things. Going to the Great Hall was a bit faster today than going to the dungeons had been the day before. She walked a bit more confidently already…

Breakfast was spent learning more about judging distance by sound.

“Here, now you try,” said Ominis, handing her a jug of pumpkin juice and an empty glass.

He’d just demonstrated how easily she could guess when a cup was close to filling by the sound the liquid made as it was poured — from a deep sound to a high one. She filled it just the right amount.

“That’s very good!”

“Really?” she grinned.

Feeling around the plate with the cutlery was done easily enough, but finding out what each pile of food held relied more on her sense of smell…

“Ah, I… wouldn’t recommend that.”

“What did I just pick up in my spoon?”

“What does it smell like to you?” asked Ominis with a little smile.

“Mashed potatoes…?”

“Well, I just hope you like parsnip porridge.”

And getting food onto her plate presented another difficulty… A few sausages rolled away before she gave up and picked them up with her hands rather than the fork, her knife kept slipping and clanging loudly on the plate whenever she cut into something, and her fingers landed in mustard sauce more than once.

After a little trial and error and a bit more cursing, she finally managed to get something she really liked. She moaned with pleasure, but it was cut short by Sebastian’s giggling.

“Whot?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Nothing,” he said with an obvious smile.

“What did you take?” asked Ominis curiously.

“It’s a seed cake,” she said defensively. “Just a little syrupy, that’s all.”

Sebastian laughed into his fist.

“What?”

“Nothing!” he said again. “Just… always thought you hated spotted dick.”

“Ewww!”

By the time breakfast was over, she was more angry than upset. Ominis considered it an improvement — at least she wasn’t on the verge of crying anymore. He supported her elbow with his hand as they walked out together. When the sounds of students passing by got louder, he felt her clinging to him more.

“Don’t be nervous…”

“Oh,” she said, her hand relaxing, “sorry.”

“It’s not just that,” he chuckled. “I could hear your breathing pick up, and your footsteps too, as if you were stomping on the ground.”

“It’s that obvious?!”

“It is,” he nodded. “For instance, how do you think I feel now?”

She sighed, feeling completely at sea as they walked together to class, in a direction she couldn’t tell, surrounded by noisy students — and Ominis was testing her.

“I don’t know… Calm, I suppose.”

“Why is that?”

“Your voice is low, and your arm is steady, and… and I can hear you smiling when you speak.”

“That’s quite good,” he chuckled.

What Ominis didn’t say was that he also felt worried about her, and worried about how useful he could be in these following weeks, how good of a guide or a teacher… He thought that it was obvious from his clipped tone and his lingering silences, but was glad to be proven wrong.

The first class of the day was, predictably, horrible. They had Charms, and the girl could scarcely follow the instructions on wand movements, had no idea whether the egg she was given had been shrunken and enlarged according to instructions, and was left feeling around for it awkwardly in order to tell where it was.

“How do you even know where to point your wand?” she sighed frustratedly.

“That’s where the echolocation spell will come in useful,” said Ominis from beside her. “It’s not just the direction, but the depth as well, how far something is from you.”

“We have to practice that more,” she grumbled, waving her wand uselessly. “Undercroft, after class.”

They ended up spending every break in their schedule that day in their secret room, with Ominis placing random obstacles in front of her while she tried and tried and… finally succeeded in making her wand cast the spell. It was just before they had to go to dinner.

“I did it!”

“Not bad,” said the boy — and she could hear his voice approaching, could hear his steps resounding in tighter and tighter echoes. “The cast is still pretty weak though…” She could tell he had his hand in front of her wand, judging the strength of the pulse for himself.

“It’s such a strange sensation… I can feel the shape of your hand in mine, through the wand, but it’s…”

“It’s a bit blurred, isn’t it?” he smiled.

“Yes, as if… as if through a fog.”

“Well, I’ve never seen fog,” Ominis chuckled, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

They went to dinner together and this time she walked on her own, holding her own wand in front. She grinned at being able to sense Ominis’ own echolocation spell, like rings on the face of a lake meeting each other.

“Can you feel people’s features with this spell?” she asked quietly as they entered the Great Hall.

“Not particularly… The size of someone, perhaps, but it is not so fine as to tell you what somebody looks like.”

“Can you tell the difference between, for instance, Sebastian and Garreth?”

“Naturally,” he laughed. “Garreth smells of toxic fumes. Sebastian smells of Confringo.”

Although that dinner was still speckled with splashes of sauce and spilt pumpkin juice, each meal got easier as the week progressed. Her echolocation spell, as well, got stronger. She wasn’t exactly confident enough to run through Hogwarts’ halls, but she found it easier to avoid running into people — and not get bumped into either, as her hearing became better at picking up all motions around her.

Attending class was easier too. She soon learned how to take notes on her own, although she wasn’t sure when she’d get the chance to read them. Ominis taught her a neat trick of holding onto the inkwell and use her fingers to precisely dip her quill in it. To tell whether she’d taken enough ink, she could test it on her finger first and see if the tip felt wet.

“You’re sure you don’t want a self-writing quill?” he asked.

“I want it,” she said, but first I want to do this on my own.

Ominis smiled. “And keep track of the parchment too. Find something as a placeholder for where you left off. Don’t want to write on top of what you’ve already written.”

With his guidance, she mastered a fairly simple system of holding onto the parchment with one hand, finger poised on her last line, and then cupping the inkwell with the other before dipping her quill.

What she still had trouble with well into the second week was spellcasting.

“How… just�� how?” she hissed, smacking her wand up and down during a particularly troublesome Transfigurations class.

She heard a subtle laugh, and knew that it was Ominis. “Having trouble?”

“How am I expected to transform this damned ferret into a feather duster when the damned thing keeps moving?!”

Ominis had mastered the spell quickly, she thought, as she could hear no more animal squeaks from his side. About half the class had finished, judging by the mix of sounds from satisfied students and ferret trills.

She felt a warmth approach her from the side. Ominis took gentle hold of her wrist.

“Here,” he said, “maintain the location spell, and do the motions of the transfiguration spell from your wrist.”

She tried it a few times, his hand constantly around her wrist.

“Listen to where the animal is too, don’t lose track of him in case he runs away.”

She grit her teeth and frowned, ready to give up, but with Ominis’s help, she finally managed to do it just before the class was done.

“Bloody annoying,” she sighed, dropping her wand to the desk and wiping her sweaty palm on her robes. “Thank you, Ominis,” she mumbled. “Doubt I could’ve done it without you…”

“You could have,” she heard him smile. “Just would’ve taken you longer.”

To help calm her nerves, the boy suggested they go for a walk around the lake.

They walked and walked until the sun set. They could feel it as the air cooled all around them, as the evening grew loud with nightbirds, as the grounds became silent with all the other students gone inside the castle…

It felt strange to walk beside Ominis like that, without a word, without a touch, only the quiet sound of his footsteps in the grass. The water of the lake lapped on the shore beside them in lazy little waves, stirred perhaps by the creatures underneath or the light breeze. It set her senses on fire to feel how different it was to have that large, cold body of water on one side, and the warm shape of Ominis on the other — because she could feel it, could feel every detail. Even the wet earth underfoot and the grass, the dead leaves and dry branches, they all had a scent of their own that filled her mind more than the mere image of them ever could. Although she missed her sight very much, she could not deny that she felt more connected to everything around her in this way…

Her hand reached out and took Ominis’s arm — his right one, where he held his wand. Not even needing to ask, he switched it to the other hand and held her palm in his.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, but from his tone, she could tell he wasn’t worried.

“No,” she said. “Just wanted to feel your hand.”

“Well, there it is,” he chuckled. “Bit clammy… Sorry about that. Always gets that way when I hold my wand too long.”

“Mine too,” she smiled.

Their fingers interlinked as they kept their slow walk around the edge of the Black Lake. A thought kept swirling in her head, and she was torn between giving voice to it or keeping it to herself. She didn’t know if Ominis could tell, but —

“What’s on your mind?”

— of course he could.

“How did you know?”

“I swear I can hear you thinking sometimes. It’s the same with Sebastian.”

She laughed, but said nothing.

“So?” he asked again. “What is it?”

Her hand tightened slightly around his. “I was wondering if you might seem to the touch the same way you look. The face, I mean, and all that…”

“Ah,” he said, his tone teetering somewhere between amused and nervous, “you want to try to… ‘see me’ with your hands?”

“Could I?” she asked, her face turning slightly toward him as if she could better detect how he was reacting to all of this.

“Only if I could do the same,” said Ominis with a tight smile.

They reached as far around the lake as the grounds permitted and sat together on one large, smooth rock. Beneath them, they could hear the lapping of the water, quiet and gentle, and owls hooting far off in the woods. It felt almost as if she were floating on air, cross-legged, far from the ground, with nothing surrounding her but the cool night.

They tucked their wands in their pockets and fiddled their thumbs, both too timid to start.

“Well, you asked,” said Ominis after a prolonged nibbling of his lips, “so you go first.”

“Alright,” she sighed, her mouth pulled up into a nervous smile.

She stretched her hands before her gently and was almost startled when they reached his chest. His school uniform was much like hers, a little rough, but well tended to. Moving upwards, she reached his neck, and quickly skipped it until she felt the smooth line of his jaw with both her hands. For no reason at all, her eyes closed. Perhaps it felt more peaceful that way…

His chin was delicate and pointed, leading up in soft angles to his ears. Moving inward, her thumbs traced his high cheekbones, his temples, his arched brows, then dipped delicately over his eyes — his were closed as well. She smiled as she tickled the surface of her fingers with his long lashes.

“Well?” asked Ominis. “Is there a resemblance?”

“I think so,” she smiled. “You look the way you feel.”

“Oddly poetic of you,” he chuckled.

Her hands slid slowly down his face, framing his slightly long nose, falling then to his lips, soft and full. She gasped at feeling them, noting things she never realised before: how delicate they were, how defined, and slightly dry… She traced down to his chin again when she felt them part.

“Yes, I suppose that’s you,” she joked. Her giggles filled the tense air around them. She could feel him smile against her fingertips.

“My turn now,” said Ominis.

She squeezed her hands in her lap as she waited, and then the boy surprised her by cupping her face and slowly bringing them together, covering her like a mask.

He felt her from chin to forehead, taking in the full plains of her features, before he began to touch them each in part. He brushed her eyebrows upward, traced the shape of her eyes, ran his finger delicately down her nose to the tip, and brushed his thumb against her lips while his other hand caressed a broad path from her forehead to her jaw. She felt very thoroughly known after this…

They walked back to the castle in silence, hand-in-hand. As they did, she noticed in herself a feeling of… peace, of not caring anymore that she couldn’t see. She missed the colours of everything around, of course, the beams of light, the peaceful glow of the Slytherin dorms, the star-filled sky at night, but she didn’t feel like she lacked anything anymore.

That made it all the more shocking when, three and a half weeks into her blindness, she began to see vague shapes of light. Ominis’ thin face bloomed into a smile when she told him. She could see it in spite of the cloudiness of her vision.

She still used the echolocation spell to get around, and breakfast became easier, but the blending of shapes and colours so overwhelmed her senses that often she would close her eyes when she wished to concentrate.

It was probably for the best, as she fell behind on her coursework and had never gotten to practice reading Braille with Ominis. Her notes, she now could tell, were atrocious, and her fingers were horribly stained even now.

As the days passed, her vision gradually improved, and by the end of the fourth week, she was almost back to normal. Her eyes teared, unused to all the details.

“Come now, no need to cry over it,” said Ominis with an awkward laugh. They were returning from another visit to the Hospital Wing, where the Nurse had checked her progress.

“I’m not crying,” she sniffled. “How could you tell, anyway?”

“You mean aside from your voice being all choked up and your breathing irregular? Just a lucky guess.”

“I’m just feeling… too much, I think.”

Ominis took her hand in his. “I know,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll miss it too.”

And she didn’t need to ask what he meant.

[qqueenofhades]

Do you think part of what makes people feel like voting isn’t worth it because things don’t get better under democrats is because we can’t see what would have happened? Like I see a lot of people saying “well biden hasn’t made america much better so there’s no point” but it’s like they don’t understand that under a republican they would actively do everything they could to cause more harm. It’s like they don’t understand that 1. The president can’t do much, and 2. IT WOULD BE WORSE. like they don’t understand the possibilities. Idk people just frustrate me

I'm sorry, as I know you're just relaying what these people think and not claiming so yourself, but the whole "things don't get better under Biden/Democrats" line to which we are subjected so very, miserably often is a lie!!! It is demonstrably a lie! It is peddled by people who deliberately live in their echo-chamber leftist misinformation bubbles and either don't read the news, don't accept anything less than the Magical Socialist Revolution Now, and don't think partial or incremental progress (aka the only kind of progress that exists) is valid. "Biden hasn't single-handedly fixed everything wrong with America and the world after the most damaging presidency ever to exist and 250+ years of flaws, while other countries actually are their own actors with agency making complex choices, so we shouldn't vote for him" is a bullshit lie and I'm tired of it!!!

(Again. Sorry. This is not directed at you. This is just my frustration with this entire ridiculous situation speaking.)

We have had multiple elections now where people voted for Democrats, which resulted in abortion protections, protections for LGBTQ people, the biggest climate legislation ever to pass Congress/be signed into law (the Inflation Reduction Act), vast improvements in the job market, executive actions both large and small, improvements in labor and the economy, a general democratic system, a defense of the rule of law, a warning against fascism, and everything else that Trump trampled on in 4 years and will finish the job of doing if this godforsaken country is either right-wing-zealot or left-wing-zealot enough to put him back into office. (Like, people. Google is free. You're welcome to look up the improvements Biden has actually made, but that would harm your Narrative.) So much of this misinformation is also peddled by people who are proud that they don't have a clue how the American government works and/or deliberately lie about it: see all the claims that it was Biden's fault for not magically stopping a Trump-stacked SCOTUS, selected for the express purpose of overturning Roe, from overturning Roe. Because the president could just unilaterally overturn the Supreme Court with no problems at all if He Really Wanted To, I guess. Even if that is literally not the way it has ever functioned in history.

All the noxious Republicans in state legislatures passing anti-trans/anti-abortion/anti-voting laws ARE NOT SOMETHING BIDEN CAN STOP. If you're going to criticize him for not doing something, for God's sake at least make it for something he can do (like not calling for a ceasefire in Gaza, though I would argue he's already taking a more nuanced approach than the entirety of the American establishment during the War on Terror). And then vote for him when/if he follows it up, not just throw your hands in the air and scream about how you Can't Possibly Sully Yourself (especially when there is some very selective support going on here and a deliberate white-washing of how many orders of magnitude worse absolutely everything else in America and the world would be under Trump. So.)

I'm tired of it. I'm really, really tired of it. I've been trying to cut back on my politics posting because my mental health is bad right now and I often feel like a broken record screaming into the void. But. Yeah. Anyway. Whoof.

[radiosummons]

My sister has been showing me episodes of OG Trigun--mostly in preparation for Trigun Stampede--but also because it's one of her favorite manga of all time.

And holy SHIT I cannot even begin to explain how fucking batshit this show is. Just hearing Johnny Yong Bosch's voice alone immediately sent me back at least fifteen years.

I have watched all episodes of OG Trigun while drunk, high and sober. And regardless of my state of inebreiation, I was always left with the exact, inescapable feeling of wanting to fucking die from the sheer nostalgic cringe and insanity of it all. I hate this show. I love this show. I'm fucking obsessed.

So, to all those who are curious (or would just like a mini idea of how to compare OG Trigun with Trigun Stampede)--here is my comprehensive list of things that ACTUALLY happened in Trigun that make me go absolutely batshit just thinking about them:

The sheer insanity of the--balls to the walls, barely held together with ducktape, spit and shoestring--of a plot, all with apparently little to no accuracy to the manga whatsoever. This both amuses and horrifies my sister.

The absolute refusal on the part of the anime to actually explain literally anything. Like the fact that the show takes place in space. Or why humanity is on a desert planet. Or what Plants are, why they're important, why they're there, literally ANYTHING.

Seriously, if you've only ever watched the anime you would have no fucking clue what the Plants are or what they even do. And THEY'RE LITERALLY ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT BITS OF LORE/A HUGE PART OF THE PLOT OF THE ENTIRE FUCKING MANGA.

A major bit of Trigun's lore/setting is just straight up the events of Wall-E.

Johnny Yong fucking Bosch as Vash's English VA. Enough said.

Vash--by simply existing and (mostly) through no direct fault of his own--is capable of wrecking such sheer and complete utter devastation that there's an actual insurance policy people can file after their town is destroyed in the aftermath of him visiting. Iconic.

Monev is just Spiderman's Venom but with a purple and orange reskin. This was intentional on part of the creator as he is obsessed with Venom. Good on him.

This is only specific to the English Dub (we switched to the original sub for the more "serious" episodes, calm down), but HOLY FUCK the absolutely atrocious line deliveries somehow make the show even worse and yet ultimately so much funnier all at the same time!

Millions Knives is the name of Vash's twin brother.

Vash is bisexual. There are multiple occassions where he will call a random male character "Cute" or "Cutie." Somehow, I am not the least bit surprised.

Christianity exists. And the Church trains orphans to be assassins. This makes perfect sense.

"LUUV AND PEEEEAAACCCCCEEE!!!!"

In the second episode of the series (English Dub), there's an actual scene where an old man and his grandson LOUDLY lament the absolute devastation of their home in the most inappropriately cheerful and candid way possible. And then the fucking kid follows that up by just singing out of fucking nowhere "~Bad times are here LALALALALA!!!!!~"

Vash is part gun.

According to "company regulations," as insurance workers Milly and Meryl are not allowed to take part time jobs. They later take part time jobs. My broke ass resonated too fucking hard with this bit.

"Oh, maaaan! Why can't I just get a break?! Death and poverty like me so much, they've brought friends!" Fucking. Mood.

At one point, Vash does the crab walk to dodge a barrage of bullets. This is, surprisingly, quite effective.

"I'll whack you, mister!"

Legato's introduction is him sitting down on a bench and then PULLING A HOT DOG OUT OF A PAPER BAG WITH A HUMAN HEAD IN IT!!!!

Legato has his own personal saxophone player that just follows him everywhere???????

"Oh my. I'm about to go down in ~fllaaaaaammeesssss!~"

Wolfwood.

In EP 16, someone just starts randomly scatting in the background for no reason. No explanation is ever offered.

"My name is .... VASH DA STAMPEDE-DUUUH!!!!!"

Also in EP 16, one of the villains for that episode sounds, deadass, exactly like Jar Jar Binks. I am not joking.

Legato can blood bend.

There's a mini episode dedicated to Milly and Meryl. Vash shows up for five seconds hiding in a trash can. The joke writes itself.

"The DEADLY DODGEBALL HEAD!!! A simple technique to hold the ball in place with INTENSE SUUUCTION!! Try this at home! ;)"

Knives eats an apple, cuts his own hair and enters his impromptu emo arc.

Legato gets horny over the idea of Vash crying. Idk what to tell you, man.

Wolfwood shoots a child. Granted, said child was gonna try to kill Vash and a bunch of orphans. But still.

Vash makes up a dark song about murdering and killing people. The villains of that episode proceed to roast him for his shit lyrics.

Wolfwood doesn't understand why everyone is mad at him for KILLING A CHILD.

"I meditate diligently every morning. The subjects are life and love ... I quit after three seconds."

The actually downright amazing OST, that has no right to be as good as it is. No joke, one of the best anime OSTs I have ever heard in my life.

"And if you're still having doubts, check out my 100% accurate gunmanship!" *proceeds to shoot directly at the sky only then for a black cat to fall directly on his head. The cat's fine btw*

At a certain point, Vash fakes his identity, gets a disguise and goes under a false name. Said false name being "Eriks." He looks like if someone ran Hohenheim through the washer and then hung him on a clothesline for a week. I have ... no fucking words.

"What is this strange phenomena? Is it some sort of strange and twisted Christian science!?"

For as menacing as they make Legato out to be, he sure does shit all in the grand scheme of things. Also he looks like he raids Seto Kaiba's closet on the DL and duels monsters on weekends.

Vash will randomly have Bishie eyes. Arguably, his most Bishie moment is right after Wolfwood punches him in the face. I'll let you infer what you want from this.

Rem randomly appears out of nowhere to taunt Vash with nonsense riddles and haikus. No explanation is ever given until EP 17 for who Rem is, why she keeps reappearing in Vash's mind, if she's even a real person or just someone Vash made up, etc. Because of this, it just looks like Vash keeps receiving American Beauty-style rose shower psychic attacks while a random woman just spouts absolute nonsense at him. There is no way this explanation will prepare you for the actual experience of watching it.

 "I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz-" *prolonged pause* "-Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser the Third. Don't hestitate to call."

Vash gets adopted by an old woman and her granddaughter. It's actually kind of sweet.

A minor villain in EP 18 demands that Vash strip and then act like a dog. He proceeds to do both without a single objection. Wolfwood pulls down his sunglasses and leers at Vash's naked ass. My sister has informed me that this is actually canonical.

Rem is a hyper Christian.

Wolfwood takes personal offense to a burlesque dancer being absolute shit at dancing. Honestly ... I can't even argue with him.

"Hey, 'Thou Shalt Not Kill,' REMEMBER!? WHAT KIND OF CHURCH MAN ARE YOU!!!?"

Vash saves a town's Plant through the power of Bishie.

While trying to save a child, Vash and Wolfwood both get sucked into quicksand. Said child just watches them go into the ground. I would have done the same.

Milly, Vash and Wolfwood decide to share drinks and before any of them even take a single shot, Milly decides to strip naked. Vash and Wolfwood are very pleased by this. Meryl is not.

"WHOSE idea was it to USE THE GRENADE!!!?? He can't be identified for the reward if he's a pile of pulp, YOU DUMBASS!!!!"

Wolfwood calls Vash pathetic. This kickstarts yet another existential crisis within Vash.

"Thank GOD you asked! It's a long story, although it's kind of a short one."

For literally no reason at all, child Knives decides to embrace his Anti-Christ symbolism and goes full Joker mode. This is not at all accurate to the manga.

Vash and Knives are aliens/Plants. Rem thinks they're actual Christian angels. Deadass.

Milly forces Wolfwood to pretend to be her baby daddy for a whole episode. For pudding. Yup.

Vash enters a dom/sub relationship with a Pokemon gym leader looking lady and they engage in extremely explicit pet play.

Anyway, watch OG Trigun. If you've ever watched any sort of anime abridged series, it will definitely make things a little easier for you. There are definitely too many points at which this show feels like a YouTube Poop and I mean in that best and worst possible way.

Also Meryl is Best Girl. I will not budge on this.

[ninja-confession-go]

I just wanna say, absolutely fucking despite Jay. I hate his relationship with Nya, I hate the way he acts, I hate his “comedy”, I hate his voice, and I hate both wilfilm and wildbrain Jay.

From the pilots through season ten, he was an asshole, an incel and completely unfunny. He was IMMEDIATELY creepy towards Nya before he even met her, had an unhealthy obsession with her for virtually no reason other than “she’s the girl”. He was an absolute dick to Cole at just the mere MENTION of him being Nya’s “perfect match”. Season six was the worst of them all, where every unlikable trait was doubled down on. He was unnecessarily possessive of Nya bc of a vision he saw ONE TIME, completely disregarded her boundaries, didn’t IMMEDIATELY tell his friends about meeting Naddakhan, caused Kai and Zane to get captured, whined the whole time when Cole, Nya, and Lloyd were understandably furious, and at the end of the season, got rewarded by getting with Nya. No punishment for his possessiveness, no repercussions, just getting with Nya despite her ENTIRE conversation about not wanting to be with him.

When he isn’t being a grade A dick, he’s whiny, unfunny, and an idiot. It seemed to have only amplified after the redesign, his voice got higher and whinier (btw, I’m not dissing Michael Adamthwaite, I think he’s a great voice actor. I’m mainly just pissed about whatever voice director chose to make his voice whinier). He pisses his pants at least once a season, screams ALL THE TIME, and is just generally incompetent and idiotic. (The cursed ramen song made me want to bash my head against a wall). Prime empire was ENTIRELY Jay’s fault bc he was playing video games when he wasn’t supposed to and put in the motherboard they JUST GOT from a literal criminal, and, once again, got no consequences or repercussions. Seabound was yet another example of his selfishness, him claiming that he was the only one who cared about Nya leaving, ignoring the fact that her BROTHER probably felt worse than Jay could ever fathom. He needlessly attacked Kai bc of an accident, then immediately got rewarded with Nya returning

Now, I can’t even bring myself to care about his amnesia or Jaya angst. I don’t care about him being adopted, I don’t care about his relationship with Nya, I don’t care about his knowledge of Skybound, I don’t care about him being sad when Nya turned into the sea. There’s practically nothing that can make me care anymore, and I love that dragons rising left Jay out so that Nya can bond with her friends and brother and not constantly be connected to him. I hate him constantly doing stupid or selfish things and being rewarded for them, I want him to be genuinely punished for all the things he’s done

.

[autistichalsin]

I'm writing this letter to my parents and posting it here because I'm never going to send it to them. And I want to post it somewhere.

Dear mom and dad:

For so long I've told myself, with most of what you did (minus mom actively abusing me for years when she was drinking) that you did your best. And honestly, I do still think that was true. But I also deserve the right to say: your best wasn't fucking good enough. Not by a mile.

Mom, you physically, emotionally, and otherwise abused us for years. You used everything as an excuse. Drinking. Trauma. Me reminding you of dad who you were pissed at for starting an emotional affair. But I guess me undergoing trauma through you was never an 'excuse' to talk about it since you always screamed at me for talking about it with anyone outside the house since that was 'private family business'. Bullshit, you just didn't want anyone to know what a bad parent you were. Dad, you let this happen. I know she was abusing you even worse than me. How many fucking times did I watch her hit you? But you know what? You still had a responsibility to protect us from her and you never fucking did. Not once. The best I ever got was you giving me permission to leave the house all day when she was hungover and screaming at me. Fucking thanks a LOT, dad. If you couldn't stand up to her when she was doing that shit to us/me, you could have at least had the decency to divorce her. "But I'm scared if I divorce her she'll drink herself to death" well great, thanks for deciding for me that I can and should endure abuse to save her from her own choices. That definitely didn't create any kind of complex in me or give me severe problems asserting boundaries because I then started to feel like if anything happened after I cut an abusive person out of my life, it would be my fault. Nope. No issues with that. Thanks a fucking lot.

Thanks, mom, for never teaching me (and my siblings) ANY life skills, not cooking, not doing laundry, not driving, because you "wanted me to need you so I would never leave" and thanks a fucking lot, dad, for not stepping in, saying "no that's fucked" and teaching us anyway. Really great parenting. Instead of disagreeing with your partner's shitty parenting decisions, just cosign them and go "well she's my wife". Do you feel no shame at all at the fact that none of your kids learned how to cook until they moved out (and the one still left with you is in his mid 20s and doesn't know how)? How does that not fucking mortify you? Your kids didn't know how to do more than nuke a burrito and that fucking means nothing to you?

Thanks a lot, mom, for repeatedly accusing me and dad of incest when you were drinking, because I was closer to him than you. And then, years after getting sober, hitting me with "I'm sorry, I never had a dad growing up so I didn't know how to deal with you having a good relationship with him" LITERALLY FUCK OFF SO HARD are you literally fucking telling me you had kids and anticipated we would only have a relationship with you and not him? Actually don't answer that, I know for a fact you did because guess what, grandma fucking told me you were jealous of dad doting on me as a literal fucking baby because you felt like it was a sign he loved me more. YEAH MOM, he is going to love the new baby more than you, actually! That is what parents are supposed to do when they think the universe doesn't fucking revolve around them! Also, FUCK YOU VERY MUCH for screaming at me every time I did literally anything with him that didn't involve you, guilt tripping me about "loving him more than you". First of all, that wasn't how it worked back then, but second of all, YOUR OWN BEHAVIOR made it so that yeah, I fucking do love him more than you now. You know why, mom? Because he never said that he wished he could kill me. Or how about the time you got mad that one year we had money around my birthday and he got me Elton John tickets, and you screamed at him for not getting them for your birthday next month instead (even though you'd already been) and decided the best fucking reaction to that was to HIT HIM while I watched? Not only fucking abusing your husband in front of your kids, but making your kid, you know, internalize a message that they should try to be as invisible as possible at all times but especially on their birthday so that people they loved wouldn't get abused for it, seeing as that was the SECOND TIME you abused that man over his birthday present for me? But no, it's fucking all about you feeling like he loved his kids more (WHICH HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DO) so fuck me, I guess. Fuck you.

And you know what, mom? While you were wailing that you were so victimized by him and I being close, you sure went out of your way to show favoritism to my fucking sister. Never missing a single one of her music performances but stopping going to mine after she quit. Missing EVERY SINGLE ONE OF my track meets. Yeah, I finished in last place in all of them, but I fucking loved doing it and wanted to fucking share it with you. Big fucking mistake. You got her a cello and private lessons with money we didn't have. You got the entire family to pitch in and help send her on a school trip, then the next year when I was old enough, you told them all I only played to be like her so that they wouldn't help so I wouldn't get to go on the trip. When I said I was hurt you missed my meets, you expressed bafflement that "I've heard of people in their 40s getting mad at their parents for that, but I never heard of anyone complaining while they were still young." When I told you about your fucking golden child sexually assaulting me, AFTER sexually assaulting my younger brother, telling you how she LICKED MY FUCKING NECK, you laughed and said "to be fair, I fantasized about your neck too." What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Do you actually think sexual abuse is funny when your golden child does it, or did you just want ME to think it was a joke so she wouldn't face any consequences for it? How about the fact that when the fact that she fucking RAPED my little brother, the son you were SUPPOSED to be able to pretend to give a shit about, you said that it didn't happen and I put lies in his head so his therapist would diagnose him with PTSD, implying I traumatized my OWN BROTHER just to get revenge on your golden child? How about the fact that you screamed at me for getting other family members to bring him to the police (where he was then laughed out of the station, which you obviously cared not at all about) but not doing the same when your BIL assaulted you, screaming at me that it was my fault that charges weren't pressed against him, when you were a GROWN WOMAN who could have filed the charges yourself, making me feel like it was MY FAULT that happened to you, and then trying to walk it back? Playing like you were some fucking paragon of responsibility and kindness for LATER coming back to me and saying it wasn't my fault? Too fucking late, mom. Thanks, though, for the decade of self loathing.

How about the fact that both of you decided you were "done" parenting when I was 15? My little brother was fucking 11 and he still needed you. Do you not feel even the tiniest bit bad that three of your four kids dropped out of high school? And the only one who finished- ME- still had to repeat a year? And that you promised me that if I finished this online program, because you were SO DESPERATE to see one of your four kids get a diploma (and had already written off my little brother instead of getting him fucking help, fucking fantastic job on that one) that we would go to the graduation ceremony on the other side of the state, then didn't because you blew all the money we had on cigarettes, alcohol for mom, and scratchy lotteries for dad? Remember how after that, you still tried to talk me into putting on my cap and gown and taking pictures at the park so that you would have pictures? (To your credit, you didn't push it when I said HELL FUCKING NO. Granted, I also didn't tell you the full truth that it was sheerly out of spite, because if I didn't get a graduation, no way in hell did you deserve pictures of an event that didn't happen.)

Hey, how about that one??? How about the fact that you fucking normalized addiction for me all my life, so that after watching you guys blow all our money on that shit, to the point we LOST OUR FUCKING HOUSE (yeah, real convenient to blame the 2008 recession when the foreclosure happened in 2010!) and after so many nights once I turned 18 when mom would drink and dad would bring me to the casino for a fucking break, how about the fact that I started struggling with it too? And then after I once lost my entire paycheck gambling, I came to you saying I'd realized I struggled with it too and entered GA and talked to my counselor about it so it would never happen again (and in fact while I have relapsed on gambling I have never blown more than $30 in a gambling binge since that day), and then you proceeded to FORGET it, and when I came home to visit you REPEATEDLY suggested going to casinos? I don't even use COOKING WINE when I visit because I care so much about mom's sobriety, but you can't fucking REMEMBER that I struggle with gambling long enough to not do that? I CALLED YOU AFTER THE SUPER BOWL saying that I was buying myself an imported plushie from Japan as my reward to myself for not relapsing, and you still can't be bothered to remember? But you sure as fuck remember my sister doesn't drink!

Oh, and speaking of you guys always fucking forgetting that I am hurt-able just as much as you are and am in fact my own person and NOT your fucking fixer! How about the fact that you repeatedly act surprised EVERY TIME I tell you I have anxiety? "YOU have anxiety?" YES! AND YOU ARE THE REASON I FUCKING HAVE IT! How can you be surprised I have anxiety when I literally spent a week in the hospital as a teen because I was suicidal. Literally how can any of this be a surprise. Did you think it just fucking went away? No, all that happened is that I stopped talking to you about any of it. Especially the fucking self-harm, on account of my sister starting to drink and do meth, and then starting to join you, mom, on terrorizing me. Did you forget the night she poured her beer on me, screamed at me that I was a 'faker' because she couldn't see me self-harm scars, and threw bits of meat at me because she wanted to upset me as a vegetarian? And the fact that you still let her stay with us after that? You must have been fucking thrilled to have a partner to fucking torment me with, mom. And then you both had the fucking nerve to mock me because I hid in my room all day and only come out for meals or for my classes at the community college. I was hiding FROM YOU, actually!!!

Speaking of addiction, how about you fucking smoking in the car constantly growing up, even despite me and my little brother being asthmatic. While constantly whining that the world is so hostile to smokers because we don't want to inhale your fucking poison. Thanks for the elevated risks of cancer from your secondhand smoke, really appreciate it.

Also, mom, fucking joke's on you! Remember those nights you'd fucking scream at me for not being girly enough? "Why don't you act like a real girl for once?" when I wouldn't start shaving my legs when I was going to take a swim class? "How can you be a girl if you don't do girly things, is it your long hair that makes you a girl?" Well fuck you, I'm not a girl. Eat my ass. I'm never telling you I'm not though. Even if I trusted you to be normal about trans people, I still remember how you fucking used my coming out as a lesbian to earn yourself brownie points online years after the fact. "My daughter told me she was gay, and I told her I already knew, and then she started to cry happy tears!" Bitch, I never once cried happy tears for you for any reason. What actually happened was that you and dad had a "cool, what do you want for dinner?" reaction, which I appreciated- BUT YOU FUCKING RUINED IT by trying to exaggerated it and then use it to get praise. So fuck you.

Also, hey, remember those times mom would throw me out of the house, often in the cold with no coat, and you, dad, would just let it happen? Fucking great times. Remember the times she threw things at me and you just said "leave the house as long as you can, I'll calm her down later"? Fucking wonderful. Thanks for the fucking support, dad, really.

Remember the times I'd take on your abuse, mom, to protect my younger brother? Remember the times I'd warn him to go hide and you'd scream at me for "interfering with your parenting"? And then you got mad when he started to see me more as a mom than you, and every time he had a discipline issue you'd yell at me to go deal with it because "you want to be his mom so bad, go be his mom" Remember the time I protected him, you screamed at me to leave, and then called up my grandma, told her I was attacking YOU and to call the cops (which she thankfully didn't do), kept the phone on while we were fighting so it would sound like I was the aggressor, pulled my hair, and fought so hard with me that it pulled my shirt off? This leading to my grandma labeling me a psychopath, threatening to say "what kind of person I really was" to the rest of the family, and leading me not to speak to her for years?

Remember when you, mom, heard me talking to my aunt making plans to move in with the in another state, and you wailing so hard that you were so sorry and you'd do better, only to stop the instant those plans were off the table?

Remember that time you, mom, walked in on me crying to my dad about shit you had pulled, and then glaring at me and saying "you're crying because I, what? Beat you?" before leaving?

Remember that time I had a UTI that wouldn't go away, requiring dad to bring me to urgent care twice in two weeks, and you, mom, screamed at me for "taking advantage of him"? Which led to me refusing to go to the doctor unless I absolutely had to because I was so afraid of people getting mad at me? And now you yell at me for never going to the doctor because while that shit rewired my entire brain chemistry, for you it was a fucking Tuesday?

Remember that time I was both really hungry and really tired after classes one day, so I asked my little brother to make me a sandwich, and then you, mom, screamed at me for acting like a "spoiled princess", making me feel like I am never allowed to ask anyone for anything no matter how small?

Remember when you both told us we could stay at home as long as we were either in college or working, and then when I announced my intentions to start working, you, mom, threatened to kick me out if I didn't do school, and then when I protested that I didn't want loan debt, snapped "everyone gets loan debt, suck it up" and then, after I started, laughed that you were never going to kick me out but you just wanted me to "get my life together"? Then later before I graduated with my two year degree tried to say it was because of you this was happening because you gave me that push? And then two days before graduation you had a crying fit in the kitchen because you were so devastated it wasn't my sister graduating?

Remember that time you, dad, were understandably upset and depressed after being abused by mom, but instead of getting therapy or divorcing her or literally anything, you decided to cry to me and then end the conversation by saying to ME, your CHILD, "if you had enough, you could kill yourself, but I'm stuck with her, you guys need me, I have no way out"?

Remember that time, mom, your best friend literally threatened to stop speaking to you if you kept treating me how you did, and rather than being a serious reality check for you, your takeaway was that I was "interfering with your friendships" and threatening that if I ever did that again, you'd find my best friend and tell her some of the bad things you think I had done?

Remember that time, mom, when I came to you upset about what my sister did to abuse my little brother, and you just snapped "you hurt him too!" and when I asked wtf you were on about, you said "you don't ever hug him!" when I was in fact refusing all physical contact from everyone but my toddler niece at that time due to the immense amounts of trauma you and everyone else in the family put me through? And rather than give me space to start feeling okay with it again, you encouraged my little brother to force me to hug him by blocking off the door to my room until I hugged him?

Remember how, mom, you admitted outright to trying to buy my sister's love? Remember how you arranged to have her meet some rescue guinea pigs in case she wanted one for her birthday, then when she got a snake instead, tried to cancel the meeting even though my birthday was very soon after, and it ended up being dad who said it was only fair I should be able to get one? Like could you make it any more obvious you'd fucking sell a kidney for her and would never do the same for me unless I had done something for you first? Could you make it any clearer that you just straight up can NOT stand to see me being any attention for two minutes of my life, even for birthdays or when I've achieved something huge, like, say, graduating with a Masters degree? But thanks for giving me lifelong issues with feeling selfish for asking even the tiniest bit, to the point that my therapist repeatedly had to tell me I wasn't selfish for wanting my family to fly out to see me graduate?

Speaking about graduations again, how about the fact that when I got my Bachelors degree, you, mom, yelled at me for wanting you there because flying would be too scary for you and my dad couldn't take enough time off of work to drive, and then when we realized COVID wasn't getting much better a year later and they were going to livestream the graduation, you yelled at me for saying that one of the few good things about COVID was that I could have you watching anyway, accusing me of "celebrating people dying so you could see it?"

How about the fact that you, mom lied about what happened, claiming that I flew my little brother out but never bothered to offer for you, when in fact I cried, begged, and offered to pay for the whole thing if that's what it took?

How about the fact that when I was presenting at an undergraduate research symposium for my major, you both said you weren't interested- not the issue, only some families watched the livestream anyway- but instead, you, mom, got mad when I later said I'd had my grandma watching, and denied you'd ever been invited? Because you only ever get mad when I include others in things you don't attend, either because you know it makes you look bad, or because you can't stand the thought that I could still enjoy celebrations without you?

How about the fact that you, mom, made me feel so guilty for trying to get you to come to my Masters degree graduation that I not only gave up entirely, but decided not to go myself? At least you, dad, had the decency to WANT to come and not make me out to be defective for thinking you should be there, even if you ultimately didn't fucking try hard enough to be there.

Remember the time, mom, right after I started college when you forced me to, when you demanded I use my student aid money to get you a bag of chips, and I said I couldn't because I didn't know how much books would cost yet, and then you yelled at me, and then I walked to the store and came back with the chips, and then you screamed at me that it wasn't about "the fucking Doritos" and then threw the bag at me and wouldn't touch them?

Remember that time, mom, when I introduced you via phone call to a girl I was seeing, and you immediately made the whole conversation about my sister, about how she was such a good person and you could tell this girl would really like her when they met? To the point that this girl finally texted me "I'M DATING YOU, NOT SAMMY'S SISTER! Why am I hearing all about your sister and not one thing about you, even an embarrassing story about you as a baby?" and left the phone call? And how you, dad, let it all happen, never once trying to stop her or redirect the conversation?

Remember, mom, when you needed dental surgery but couldn't afford it, so I took out a loan for you to get the surgery, and said my only ask was that you and dad pay it back on your own, and then you and dad only made TWO payments, I had to make the rest, and then when I stopped being able to afford it, you STILL didn't pay it, until the account got closed, my credit score took a hundred-point ding, and I got barred from ever having that line of credit again, meaning I can't use it for myself if I ever need a medical loan?

Remember ALL the fucking times all of you fucking used me as a therapist, and then when it was me, it was "YOU have anxiety?!" in the most shocked voice imaginable? I will say, it was nice of you to send a care package during that time my panic attacks were so bad I was having literally two a day for two months and I lost ten pounds, but you maybe... I don't know... could have like. Tried. To understand me as a person well enough to understand it was NO FUCKING SURPRISE I had anxiety, and "you're always the most put together of us all" is because THAT IS WHAT I HAD TO DO TO GET YOU THROUGH THIS FUCKING SHIT ALIVE, and I hid my emotions from all of you because they were only ever used to fucking hurt me! And even after that time things went right back to normal, as evidenced by your constant 'forgetting' what I told you about struggling with gambling.

I don't even know how to end this, to be honest. I'm fucking tired and well past the point of realizing that if I wasn't your kid, I wouldn't like you. In fact, if you were the parents of one of my friends instead and you treated them the way you treated me, I'd probably despise you and would do anything I could to help that friend leave. There's a reason my life got so much better when I left you guys and moved to the other side of the country. I still visit you a lot because, in spite of everything, I do fucking love you, and I know you're getting older and won't be around forever. But honestly, if it wasn't for me feeling so responsible for you, me feeling like your wellbeing was my responsibility... If it wasn't for all the issues I got growing up with you two where I felt, still feel, like my happiness is the least important thing and like anything bad that happens to this family is my fault by default, and like I'm a 'bad person' who 'mistreats' you any time I have boundaries and like I have some kind of duty to prove to you that I am better than drunk-mom thought I was by always taking care of the family issues to my own detriment... I would have cut contact years ago and never looked back. I barely talk to my older siblings. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to entirely cut out everyone but my little brother. Or at least brave enough to tell you guys you've been fucking awful family to me, and often bad people too.

Mom, you fucking loved to read the Giving Tree to us when we were little. I used to think it was a really sweet story about the sacrifices of love. And then I got older and realized... huh. Why is it only the tree who ever does anything for the boy? Why doesn't the boy ever water her or plant other trees by her to keep her company? Why does it only ever go one way? Why does the tree only have duties to the boy just like I only have things I owe to you and not the other way around? And shouldn't it worry you/me/us that the story ends with the tree reduced to a stump that will probably die in a few years? And then it started making even more sense why you still love the damn book and read it to your grandkids when they visit, and I'm fucking horrified at it. The longer time goes on the more I see "but we're a family" ONLY ever goes one way. It's never "but we're a family" when I need you. It's only "but we're a family" when you need me to give up more and more for you all.

I'm fucking tired. And I really was willing to keep on going like the stupid fucking tree when I thought you were changing for the better. When you, mom, gave up drinking, and when you, dad, stopped enabling her shit. We worked so fucking hard to restore the trust. And that was the first time you started like... letting me have boundaries and you guys apologized to me and admitted none of that was okay. You got into counseling and started working on yourselves. And then you stopped. And it's really starting to fucking show. For now, it's just mom starting all the same old shit again... but I know how this story ends and I know that sooner or later it's going to be you, dad, enabling mom again at my expense. And I feel like the biggest idiot for ever thinking things would be okay as long as mom stayed away from alcohol. There's a reason folks in recovery talk about "dry drunks" and other equivalents. Because drinking didn't make you, mom, a bad person, you already were and it just removed the inhibitions that made you pretend. And you can remove those inhibitions just as well without it. You won't tell me you wish me dead without a drink, no, but you'll use and abuse me just as much, you'll scapegoat me just as much, you'll favor my sister just as much.

I messaged my little brother during one of my visits last year that I was so put off by how I felt loved, how I felt shocked that I could ask for favors or whatever else and not be yelled at for it and actually have it done to boot... and just that quick you slid back into what you used to be.

I'm really tired of asking you for just... the littlest things, okay? Dad, you at least... will see me and care about me. Like... you fucked up before, but at least I can still say without hesitation that you love me, no matter how bad you did fuck up. You actually care when I tell you about my struggles with job hunting, and I actually believe you when you say you're proud of my accomplishments. But when mom acts actively maliciously, you just don't care, and never have cared enough to stop her. You let her do all those things to me before and after. And it will never be any different.

Isn't it ironic? Because for all mom fucking abused me all my life for her suspicion that you and I, dad, loved each other more than we loved her, you and I both know that's never been true. You fought for her, but neither of you ever would for me. You were okay with me moving across the country to escape, but you would never leave her to keep us- me- safe. Not that it would have been okay for her to treat me the way she did even if I was the one you loved more, but it was never true. You'd never let me treat her the way she treated me. Ever.

So what the fuck do I do now? I hate that fucking Giving Tree book but there are times where I just feel like I'm too tired to stop any of this. Why should I have to be the bad guy and be the one to say this is the end? Maybe that's why the tree ended up as a stump in that stupid fucking book. Maybe the tree was just too tired to tell that stupid fucking brat, no, you can buy some fucking apples at the grocery store like everybody else. And maybe the tree was fully aware that no one cared about it unless it had something to give the stupid fucking brat, too, so what was the point of leaving anything for itself if either way it was never going to be fucking appreciated?

... Whatever.

I guess you're okay with how things are, anyway, because you always have been, even when things were 100 times worse. And I mean, let's be honest, I was always the only one who wasn't okay with it, for obvious reasons. And that in turn led to me being scapegoated worse and hurt worse. Everyone else was willing to play happy family, and I wasn't because I was being hurt the worst, but that meant everyone else kept lashing out at me worse because I was the one making a fuss and trying to tell family secrets outside the family and shit like that. So what does it matter anyway? It's always the same whether any of you are drinking or not. I'm the only one who sees a problem, always, so that means I'm the real problem.

Whatever. If you guys are happy with broken things, even when you started fixing them and saw how good things could be, I guess I can go back to pretending to be okay with broken shit too. I at least have a best friend, who is more my sister than the one who shares my DNA, who sees that I deserve more than broken shit, and maybe if I'm lucky one day I'll have a partner or someone who sees it too. And maybe if I keep doing things to fix my broken things, like therapy, maybe you guys will decide you want to start fixing things again too. Because despite everything you've done, I think you deserve better than broken shit too. I think you deserve better than just being passive aggressive with each other when you have problems, which inevitably grows into you yelling at each other. I think you deserve a happier and more stable marriage than that. I think you deserve to have hobbies and friends and things that get you to leave the house sometimes for things besides work and grocery shopping. Dad, I know you used to be a social butterfly and loved doing your sports leagues until mom forbade you from leaving her. You're a little too old for a lot of sports anymore, but maybe you could still find something to do. There's senior centers around you could maybe do stuff at. I think you deserve better than what you do to yourselves just as much as I deserve better than what you've done to me too. But I also know as well as you do that fixing things takes energy and sometimes it's easier to live with the broken things than it is to fix them. So I get it, too.

But I wish you would go back to how it was the last few years where I didn't get broke worse by talking to you. I miss the things you'd tell me you learned from your therapists. I miss hearing you catching yourselves when you'd do something like violate a boundary. I miss you realizing that some of the stuff you put me and my siblings through wasn't okay. I miss the Twitter posts you used to make, mom, about how you know it's kind of too late to not perpetrate the cycle that you went through with your stepdad, but that you're still going to try to fix it. I miss that side of you. The side of you that at least tried to be better than what you were when you were drinking. Now I think you've given up, I guess because of the health issues making you too tired to fight anymore, I don't know.

I'll be here as long as I can, I guess. Maybe you'll figure it out or maybe you won't or maybe things will go right back to how they were when I first moved out, with mom calling me every night to scream at me and dad just giving a milquetoast "I'd better go make sure she doesn't hurt herself, have a good night, love you sweetie." I guess that's up to you. But I can't promise you I'll be able to sit here forever. I was a teenager then, but now I'm an adult with a graduate degree, and I think I'm ready to start looking for a partner and maybe start a family one day, and I won't always have the energy or time to do the stuff I do for you now. Or who knows, maybe I'll be the fucking stump tree at the end of that stupid fucking Giving Tree book because I'm too tired and too scared to ever properly stand up to you. I guess that part is up to me, just like the rest is up to you.

I'm tired. I miss what we had the last few years. Please don't give up on that. I miss feeling like I actually have two parents who love me.

[strewwwberry]

About to do a Rant on shen Jiu coz yeah, so ⚠️trigger warnings⚠️for, you know, him lol

(Additional tw please read beforehand even if its just a skim)

I personalize a lot of my writing to the viewer/reader, if you are someone who tends to input yourself into writing, whether purposely or not, please be aware that it may get uncomfortable or too personal to you, be aware of what you can read through and what is uncomfortable or you simply don’t like, stay safe ♡

Also apologies in advance if I project at all through this.

Shen Jiu's story has got to be one of the most tragic I've read, and not just for his slavery, abandonmet, sexual and physical abuse and then extortion after "freedom", and on top of that the old tale of the abused become the abuser. No, not just that, but because he was willing, he was 110% willing to ignore his feelings, brush aside his abuse an torture, everything, if Yue Qinguen just told him why he wasn't there, just gave him a reason, hell not even a reason, a goddam excuse to why he wasn't there.

He would've, he may not have been a good person even after the fact, actually I'd bet that he wouldn't be a "good person" at all. But, I belive that at the very least, it would've calmed his heart ENOUGH to not repeat the cycle of abuse, even If not for any reason but yue qingyuan.

Even as an adult he was still a child inside wanting the comfort of someone he trusted more than anything, and to be reassured that he wasn't abandoned, that his qi-ge was just late.

And to make it worse, he was, yue qingyuan was simply late. He pushed to hard to quickly, refused to ask for help, refused to explain, got himself in a deadly situation, was late and continued to not explain himself but instead give a look of pity and a stupid sorry every single time as if that changes anything.

Now to go into that, that look of pity. I can literally feel in my soul how fucking cruel that was to have done to Shen qingqiu. Imagine you make it out alive through being sold into slavery, abused in all ways possible, had to fight your way out because your one and only wasnt able to, got basically kidnapped and then further used, escaped THAT, and finally made it to a sect where you see your one and only, hoping that no he couldn't have left me... Did he? No he didnt abandon you, there must be a reason. But nothing, just pathetic apologies constantly. He must've thought himself above me, I'll prove him wrong. You make it to be a head disciple on your way to be a Peak Lord, an impeccable position and a near impossible accomplishment for an ex slave, and still nothing, just pity.

Then you finally get to the top, your on your way to Ascension, already immortal despite being too old to even cultivate when you started and your qi-system (whatever it's called) is absolutely wrecked (miracle you can even cultivate, an insane improbability to have made at to a golden core and immortality). But still, even after all you've been through and persevered through, pity, pity for a man who made it. Pity for a man who went through hell and still fucking made it.

I'm just saying, I'd be mad too.

But no, it doesn't end, of course it doesn't.

Your anger reaches a point unmanageable, you refuse to explain, no one explained anything to you and they won't listen anyway! refuse to try because what good could it do? No one will believe me anyway what's the point? Only friends are brothel ladies, who you pay to be with you, you get called a pervert and a lecher for caring for these woman and that girl disciple of yours who you take pride and comfort in. Are you a pervert and a lecher? Is that true? Only you really know.

And then this bastard kid she just had to point out.

Shen Jiu, refused to acknowledge his REAL flaws and blamed everyone else for everything even when it truly does end up his fault. What. Is he just supposed to deny or admit anything? Of course not! Let them belive whatever the hell they want, I've always acted this way making me seem untrustworthy and because they're hypocrites they wont try to find out why anyway, and I'm always the victim.

Which he was for a long time.

But then he wasn't, not really no, still a victim or course, but right now, with his standing and power?

and then even though they were in the wrong, his refusal to try (understandable but still) was his own choice, his refusal to at least get along with them, not start fights, not ostracize and critisize in the form of snide commentary. No one made him did that, he was traumatized and a child, yes, so was it understandable? Of course! Was it still his own actions that even as an adult he refused to stop, let alone apologize for, even if not literally apologizing? Yes, yes it was.

And then a child. Whose had it rough. Maybe not (yet) as rough as you, but rough. And then to abuse that kid, torture and isolate that child become he was so lucky to have had a mother? A mother who, although still his mother, wasn't even blood? And because his eyes reflected that of a monster, his name reminding you of your abuser just like how your own now does to. hes too much like me, that look just can't be humane, he must be a monster. And you know what you were right he was a half demon child. But not even a demon deserved to be pushed into the abyss to die, no child not even a demon child deserved what you but him through.

That is not how that works. You hand him over to the water prison and figure it out, because the laws are fucked but at least that's something then just acting how you think is right even when you know its not. But no you had to, because what would they say, harboring a monster, you must be one to.

Then on top of all that, you swore to yourself that once you got your peak Lord name, you'd bury your past like you literally just spawned in the moment it's given. And then failed to bury it. Because life isn't that easy. But for once you just wish it was. You wanted to kill that child, so for the one that reminds you to much of yourself? You'll kill that one instead.

Shen jiu doesn't deserve excuses, hell he doesn't even want people to make excuses for him, not for himself and not from anyone else (except if that excuse Is qi-ge giving him so much as "I got caught up drinking my hella fancy tea, I dint mean to leave you there") .

But he was tragic.

He was human, so very human. A human playing the part of a trancendial being. A human boy in the appearance of someone untouchable and inconceivable.

Playing this act means no one can use nor abuse you.

Now, no one can hurt you,

Not anymore.

...

But they still did

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

More Arthur Morgan Headcannons

You guys really liked the Arthur Morgan headcannons last time (over 200 notes!) so I’m just gonna write some more out of the top of my head because why not?

Don’t forget to check out my newest 18+ NSFW excerpt from my rdr2 fanfic. It’s not for everyone, it’s an original character instead of an insert, but it’s on my page if you’re interested! 

Anyway, headcannons are under the cut! 

Arthur Morgan is a man who will beat himself up. No matter how small the issue, no matter what it was, maybe it wasn’t even his fault, but he’ll make himself believe that it was in fact his fault.

You tripped? 

His fault. He was distracting you. 

You sneezed?

Yep, his fault, he must have brought a cold to camp, and he kissed you, his fault. 

No matter what, some small, tiny little inconvenience, if he can link it back to himself, he will and he will blame himself. 

You have to convince him it isn’t his fault, and after a lot of talking eventually he will cave and say: “Well, maybe it ain’t my fault...” and then you have to do just a little bit more convincing because then he’s gonna ask repeatedly: “Can I do somethin’ to help you at least?” 

Arthur is also a man who does literally everything in his power to irritate/ rile you up. It’s hilarious to him. When nothing has happened and he isn’t busy trying to sit there and blame himself, he’s actually really loose and fun.

He loves to see you beet red in the face, and watching you get mad is funny enough he almost pissed himself once. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed that hard. 

Hell you made him laugh so hard one time that he actually physically fell backwards on his ass, and while under normal circumstances he would have been embarrassed, he couldn’t even care that there was mud on his pants, not when he couldn’t breathe between chuckles. 

Arthur refuses to show you his Journal, he also refuses to show you what’s in his satchel. He’s easily embarrassed by the fact that he draws you all the time, and he’s afraid that he doesn’t do you justice. He feels like there’s no way in hell he could ever properly draw you out, and he doesn’t want you to see his ‘awful attempt’ at trying to show what he sees.

He knows you’re absolutely fantastic, beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, whatever you’d like to be called. He loves you to no ends, but he feels like he just can’t ever get the perfect look.

It never measures up to what he sees in his head, and he doesn’t want you to see it until he can get it just right.

You’ve seen a few sketches, on accident, you weren’t snooping, he left it open on the table next to his cot. 

He made you look absolutely stunning. Every little detail he captured was just down to the T. 

You didn’t know what to do, you decided it was best not to say anything, but the fact that Arthur saw you like that made you tear up every time you thought about it. 

Every once in a while you call Arthur “Mr. Morgan.” and he thinks that he’s upset you, and in reality he hasn’t done anything at all, you just think it’s funny to call him that rather than Arthur, or Art, or Arty, or any of the other various nicknames for him, because he’ll push out that bottom lip of his and furrow his brow as he tries to figure out what he did earlier. 

Though then you have to reassure him he didn’t do anything wrong, and then he’ll probably call you an ass before giving you a kiss.

Arthur’s favorite color, other than blue obviously, is actually red, he doesn’t know why, he hates dealing with blood, despite the fact that it’s on him more often than not, so it doesn’t make much sense to him as to why he’s so attracted to that deep maroon, but if you ask him what it is he’ll tell you both blue and red. 

Though he thinks that’s a stupid question.

His least favorite chore around camp is chopping wood. His back hurts, he rides a horse all day and he doesn’t have any back support, nothing for his lumbar, so chopping wood would, you think, crack his back, however it cracks it in the worse possible way. 

Sometimes its so bad that if he chops wood and just cracks his back the wrong way then he has to lay in his bed for a day or two, it’s too hurtful to move. 

Arthur braids your hair, he doesn’t think about it, it just happens, he gets bored and your hair is right there, and before you know it your hair is braided and the only reason it’s done so well is because he braids his horse’s tail. 

Sometimes you braid his, when he lets it grow long enough. He feels like it looks stupid, but you think it looks sweet. 

You put it up in a ponytail sometimes too, and again, he thinks it looks stupid and hates the way he looks with it, but you think he looks wonderful, and you do your best to try and convince him to keep it up like that. 

Sometimes, if you’re lucky he will.

Not only that, but Arthur sometimes cuts his hair short and grows his beard long, you’ll braid his beard and he looks like a Viking. You think it’s hot as hell. 

He does like this look better, and he will keep it for a long while, sometimes you can even convince him to grow out his hair longer too to complete the Viking look.

When he looks like that, you boost his confidence with all the compliments you give him. Though to be fair you give him a bunch of compliments anyway. 

Arthur loves sleep.

As much as he is awake and running around.

He’d sleep all day if he could, sleep all day, all night, and literally do anything he could to just sleep. Doesn’t matter where he is, how uncomfortable the spot was, no matter what, he would do his best to nap.

You love to see him nap, or sleep, it’s so attractive to see him sleep on his stomach, his hair all tousled and his arms under his head. 

He’s especially cute when he’s hardly awake and can barely speak.

“Arthur, are you awake?”

“Mhm...’m up.” 

“Are you really?” 

“Mhm.” 

“What are you doing today?”

“Hmh?” He shrugs.

He’ll look at you with half lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, trying to decipher what you’re telling him, but he’s not awake enough to fully comprehend what it is you’re trying to get him to understand. 

Sometimes you’ll see him napping against a rock or tree in camp, and sit next to him, lucky enough that he doesn’t wake up, and you’ll lean against him and take a nap there with him.

Usually by the time you wake up he’s managed to wrap his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. 

He snores too. 

Only sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, usually on a day that he’s been running around, the days he’s been lounging around he doesn’t snore too much. 

When he does snore, it’s not too loud, but it can be annoying, but you’ve gotten so used to it that you just listen to it to fall asleep at this point.

When you try to tell him he snores he doesn’t believe you and claims that you do, but you can tell by the red in his face that he does believe you. 

[inkblackorchid]

Hi! How do you feel about the Crashtown mini-arc?

Ahhh, Crashtown. Honestly, I’m extremely in two minds about the arc. See, here’s the thing. When I watch it, it’s a great deal of fun. It’s a very self-contained little story that has all the necessary setup and payoff built into itself, and the cowboy aesthetics in Crashtown’s unique setting, while technically still being part of 5Ds’ largely futuristic canon, are absolutely hilarious. Not to speak of the excellent dramatics, what with Kiryu being in his depressed bitch era and needing the Power of Friendship to remember why it’s nice to be alive. So, in isolation, I find Crashtown very funny and its self-contained story compelling.

However, sometimes, I get a little frustrated knowing how many episodes this arc takes up, because where the larger narrative is concerned, Crashtown accomplishes… Well, nothing, unfortunately. It doesn’t interact with the main plot in any way, doesn’t develop Yusei’s character in a particular way (because we already knew he’s a special kind of loyal-as-a-dog-devoted when it comes to Kiryu; if anything, Crashtown only shows us that he’s also a little more gullible than usual when Kiryu gets brought up), and while it does give Kiryu meaningful character progression, he’s sadly never relevant again after this point in the show (literally the only two times he shows up after this point is during the flashback of everyone cheering Yusei on during his duel with Z-ONE and in the epilogue as he loses to Jack). Worse yet, the whole arc begs the question of why only Kiryu and no other dark signer got this kind of tying-up-loose-ends treatment. (The answer, I believe, is that he’s specifically the dark signer who has the strongest ties to Yusei in particular, which awards him special treatment. That does nothing to justify why Carly, who I’d go as far as saying is at least equally important to Jack as Kiryu is to Yusei, doesn’t get anything like this, though, and is instead sidelined because she has amnesia. You know. Amnesia. Everyone’s favourite trope. Which Kiryu, curiously, also doesn’t have.) And considering how often I lament about the things I wish 5Ds canon had spent more time on, I don’t think it comes as a surprise that it leaves a slight, bitter aftertaste in my mouth that an arc like Crashtown that adds nothing to the larger plot or any character other than Kiryu gets so many episodes while many things I wish the show had addressed don’t get a single one.

So, Crashtown’s kind of a mixed bag for me. I think the best way to sum it up would be this: If you handed me the reins for a full 5Ds rewrite, one of two things would happen. Either the show would gain another twenty or so episodes where I’d try to give all the other dark signers similar treatment as Kiryu in Crashtown, developing both them and the main cast members they interact with more (and also try to make them at least show up one more time before the Ark Cradle arc, even if only to cheer Team 5Ds on during the WRGP), or Crashtown would be left on the cutting room floor entirely, because if the only way to improve the main cast and plot were to find time for all the necessary adjustments within the exact same episode count we already have, Crashtown (and all of the pre-WRGP arc’s pure filler episodes) would be the first thing to go.

Don’t get me wrong, the yeehaw arc has excellent aesthetics, excellent dramatics, and is great fun every time I rewatch it, so I don’t fault anyone for loving it to bits, I absolutely get it. My inner overanalyst/canon rewriter just can’t unsee how many episodes it took up that were desperately needed for other stuff sometimes.

[soraya-snape]

Why do people keep saying Snape should be over Lily by now?

I really don't get it. Especially when I think about myself. I lost two of my grandparents when I was 8/10 and even though I'm already in my 20s I'm still not over this loss and I don't think I will ever. Their deaths also does impact my life in some ways like (trying not to get too personal, but) it has negatively impacted my relationship with death, I can't talk about them because I don't know how to handle this grieve... There are nights when I just start crying because I miss them so much, even now writing this already makes me tear up.

Some people might now say “This is different, they were your family, and you were only a child.” but even though I would agree to some extent it's probably not in the way they mean it.

Let me explain with one of my two examples: My grandpa (who died when I was 10) and I were pretty close. From what I remember and have been told he was wonderful with us kids or like my mother once put it: when we were at my “other grandfathers” house we still usually hung around our parents but when we were at my grandpas house we literally forgot that our parents existed. Even though I don't have many memories of him left, I simply remember feeling happy when he was around.

But still, I think this relationship was less important to me than Sev's relationship to Lily was to him. You have to remember that he came from an abusive and neglectful home and probably didn't have any (real) friends before meeting Lily and also later in life. I on the other hand had a pretty loving family, and even the not so good relationships (like with my other grandfather) were still better than Sev's relationship with his father and probably mother too.

So of course it's different.

On the one side you have me, whose relationship with her grandfather is one of many loving ones (yes, it might be the strongest, but that doesn't really change anything).

On the other side you have this boy who has never really received/felt love before, and now he meets this girl, and she makes him feel love(d). I'm not going to argue about what kind of love either of them felt for the other, but I'm pretty sure Sev never gave or got more love to/from anyone ever.

And while loosing my grandparents at such a young age was definitely bad, I could imagine that losing them later in life would be just as bad, maybe even worse. Because having more time with them would obviously be amazing, but at the same time could also make loosing them even worse. So the age difference between me and Sev really doesn't make that much of a difference also considering Snily had a similar amount of time together before their “breakup”.

And this leads me to another difference between Sev and me. Two, actually.

First his friendship with Lilx ended and really not on good terms. Even though I think both are partly at fault here it was Sev calling her a mudblood that ultimately ended it. And he tried to apologize, but Lily didn't accept it. And no matter how you feel about her decision, I think if she had accepted, even if they still hadn't become (good) friends again, it would have made it easier for Sev. I think it would give him some peace of mind and the feeling of her still loving him to some extent.

While the last year of my grandpa's life was let's say complicated, and I didn't meet him as often as usual (a bit similar to Snily) I wouldn't say our relationship was strained especially when you compare it to Snily (I don't want to go into more detail and I also don't remember much of this time).

And the other difference is that Sev is at least partly at fault for Lily's death. Which obviously makes it harder for him to move on, even more so after they ended on a bad note.

I wasn't at fault for my grandpas death and also couldn't have saved him (funny thing is now I have knowledge that maybe could). Yes, the complicated situation of his last year might make his loss a bit harder, but not much.

To conclude, I totally do not understand why people don't understand why Sev can't get over Lily (and her death). Not only was she the only light in his life, the only thing that was ever good about his life, but it was also his fault that first he lost her and later she died.

[teethcritter]

Alright, so. Finn and Princess Bubblegum. Yeah, yeah. Hero and the princess, a story as old as time. We all know the princess in question is by no means into boys, as Patience put it.

So what happens when we look at their relationship from a purely professional standpoint? A lot!

So, let's start with some background information, at least in my view of the characters. I think personally, that it makes sense for PB to have known Finn for a while before season 1. I like to think that she actually helped Jake with raising him, as she probably would've checked on the tree house from time to time with all her surveillance issues and a certain vampire breakup. And I mean, who's to say she wasn't in contact with Joshua and Margaret as well? They had, supposedly, the only human left in their hands. She would've been interested in that. She would've been very interested in that.

Now, let's take a moment to consider what being partially raised by a princess / mad scientist would do to your brain. Let's take a moment to consider what being a knight at such a young age would do to your brain. Clearly a number since the very first episode of the series is Finn and PB causing a zombie apocalypse.

PB was shown in a very morally grey light right from the start. What Have You Done?(s1ep24) is one of my all time favorite episodes because of how well it's portrayed.

Finn is pretty willing to cross her in this episode once he realizes that the right thing is not what she asked of him, but it certainly sets the groundwork of the CONSEQUENCES for doing so; as well as "The princess is always right," mentality he seems to have for most of the series. (A/N: these clips are taken out of context of the full episode, I highly recommend you watch the full thing to understand what happens in it, why PB and Finn do what they do, etc. This goes for all the eps I'll mention.)

As Finn ages, we see his relationship with PB change a LOT. Even after he gets over his crush, he still seems to worship her. In a way that she's kinda conditioned him to.

A very important thing to note while I talk about this, especially around this part, is that I STRONGLY believe that neither of these characters are in the wrong in the relationship. I don't think one is abusing or manipulating the other. It's a two way street. They are both making it worse.

The next episode I'm going to reference is Princess Cookie(s4ep13) (Another A/N: I apologize for the google drive links from here on out, Tumblr only allows one video per post. Cringe.)

By this point, Jake is willing to cross PB AND FINN in the name of doing the right thing. Finn however, is not. As we can see clearly here. Jake has a criminal past. Jake understands that crimes are often committed by people with a very messed up mental state. Those people need help, not a lifetime in the dungeon. But clearly, Finn doesn't get that. Which is not his fault whatsoever. He's been a knight since at least age 12.

I also find this dialogue from the same episode incredibly interesting. I know Jake was playing a part here. I know he was trying to de-escalate the situation so that PB wouldn't send in the guards, but these words still left his mouth.

And I don't know, the fact that he quickly had to correct himself makes this seem genuine to me.

This concept can actually be explored further in Burning Low(s4ep16) which is literally two episodes after this.

I was originally going to avoid Burning Low in this analysis, despite it being one of my favorites, but it is pretty important to the relationship between Finn/Jake and PB. It doesn't take much for Jake to flip out on PB in this episode, which is a drastic contrast from his demeanor in the first half of it. It really makes me consider the fact that he could have some deeply rooted issues with her. Or even, some deeply rooted issues with how much time Finn spends with her.

Another small note from this episode, is this.

We know for a FACT that this is not romantic jealousy in the slightest. I think that Bubblegum has gotten so used to being worshipped by Finn, that now that there's someone in the way — especially someone who she has such a strained relationship with — there is this weird jealousy. Not because she's in love with Finn, but because he's growing up. Because she isn't the sole princess in his life anymore. Because she has one less person 100% fixed on her and her alone. Because Finn is HER knight.

Alright, now before we move onto season 5, there's one more thing from season 4 that is worth talking about. This scene in The Lich(s4ep26).

This scene is one of the most disturbing scenes in the whole show for me, because of a few reasons. First of all, this is after Burning Low. This is after both of them have their explosions at her. But this is about Finn. Finn, right now, thinks that PB is jealous of him and Flame Princess. He thinks that now that there's someone in the way, that suddenly she cares. Which isn't entirely wrong, as I stated in the previous paragraph.

I think that her reaction here was partially a trauma response. Her reaction to Finn in general around this time period could be in relation to Mr. Cream Puff as well, since as we see in Bonnibel Bubblegum(s10ep4), was not a consensual relationship. Of course though, his pursuits were unwanted. Her reactions don't have to be because of a specific thing. She said no, case and point.

Now, I'm not going to get into the insanity of Farmworld Dimension, but I do think it's interesting that this interaction is the last one between the original Finn and PB. Of course Finn after Farmworld is still technically the original because of the paradox Jake created, but it's still interesting to me. Anyways, like I said, I'm not going to get into that in much detail.

Onto season 5! Frost and Fire(s5ep30) is a hard watch. But I rewatched it for this and actually made a connection that I've never made before. Jake says to chase the Cosmic Owl dream, which leads Finn down this road of manipulation. I don't put Jake at fault whatsoever, I highly doubt he expected Finn to do what he did. Finn fucked up — Aaand... I can draw some pretty distinct parallels between Finn and Flame Princess' breakup, and PB and Marceline's breakup.

Frost and Fire

Obsidian(AT:DL ep2)

After the breakup, Finn is not in the best mental state, obviously. He still doesn't understand what he did wrong and I think that's partly what's eating away at him. He doesn't understand what happened. But in a desperate attempt at getting back to normalcy, he gives himself entirely up to PB again. And then we get this line from the episode Rattleballs(s5ep46)!

PB tells him to relax, and he goes off to fight things in a dump. As you do. He finds Rattleballs there and after some training, Finn asks how he ended up here. Rattleballs explains that he escaped Bubblegum's mass execution. And he asks Finn to not out him, but loyalty to the Princess comes first.

Finn thought that Rattleballs and PB could talk it out at this point. Which they did kinda end up doing. But that is so goddamn interesting to me. He doesn't know the lengths of which PB goes, but it's so clear that deep down he DOES acknowledge that something is not right with her. Which means by proxy, something's not right with him either.

I'm going to break away from the show here to reference the comics. I know they're not canon, however the Princess and Princess graphic novel doesn't really contradict anything from the show, so I think this is of note. Finn isn't scared of her, he's scared what she'll do to other people. Very interesting.

Okay, back to the show.

In Hot Diggity Doom(s6ep42), PB loses the crown. This interaction is one that stands out to me.

Obviously the situation is tense. They don't want to serve a dillweed, but "We pledged our allegiance to you," freaks me out a bit! We didn't see this happen. This was before Slumber Party Panic(s1ep1). We don't know how Finn and Jake became her knights. They also seem to be aware of something relating to Cream Puff, as both of them know he died somehow. They both mention in it Slumber Party Panic. Besides exploding when scared, candy people don't die of natural causes as far as we've seen thus far. I do wonder what happened to that guy.

And this monologue in The Thin Yellow Line(s7ep25) doesn't make me feel any better about it. I am fully aware that implying PB did something to him is grasping at straws from what we're given, but hey! It's PB. And boy oh boy, is it interesting to consider that maybe Finn and Jake knew that.

Moving on from that random headcanon though, I want to talk about how Finn reacts to all that information from Banana Guard 16. Obviously he embellished the truth there. PB did what she had to do for the most part, although... not very ethically. Finn knows that. He knew a good chunk of that by this point in the series, and his opinion on her hasn't seemed to have changed. When he actually sees PB at the end, he realizes that maybe Banana guard 16 was right. Maybe she is gonna take him apart. So he, y'know, does a super sneaky thing and switches the guards. Instead of taking to her about it, he puts an innocent guard to death, as far as he knows. And we all know that she didn't actually do anything to anyone in that episode, she even says she's not proud of her past!! Growth!!! We love to see it. Though Finn, seems to have gotten worse.

He's gotten better socially, as he makes up with Flame Princess in Bun Bun(s8ep6), but worse professionally.

And here we go! Another parallel in Varmints(s7ep2).

At the beginning of Islands, we get my favorite scene in the whole show. We get Fern, PB, and Marceline seeing the gang off. And then we get a very interesting interaction between Finn and PB. She explains that if he finds humans, he might find out some heavy stuff about where he came from. She makes him promise that he'll come back to Ooo. And he doesn't promise. They hug, and he leaves. And she says, "He'll be safe." But clearly she doesn't believe herself. Finn, in my eyes, is probably the most important person in PB's life next to Marceline. And she's terrified that he's gonna leave his family for blood.

In season 9, when Elements starts, and Finn and Jake are greeted with the candy tree house, Finn automatically assumes that it was PB, which is something I don't see talked about a lot.

And wow, speaking of season 9! Fern would not have died the first time if PB didn't install a FATALITY SETTING TO THE WEED WACKER. Just a thought. Just an observation, if you will.

Then by season 10, he pretty much spends the entire season trying to prevent the war she's starting. And then in Obsidian, he's still ready to be by her side at the drop of a hat. And to top it all off—

In Together Again, even in death, his first thought for outside help, is her.

This never ended. They never fixed any of these problems. Finn is the knight of a dictator. Even if he wants to be ethical, he can't be. And I think somewhere, he knows that.

I'll probably go into seasons 7-10 deeper at some point in the future but tumblr's image limit for this post was hit a while ago LMFAO

TL;DR if you're going to talk about PB's wrongdoings, you can't pretend Finn is innocent. I strongly believe neither of them are bad people, and that they really do need each other. But that's not good. They actively make each other worse.

[sonnetsoncanvas]

Mess it up : pt 3

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!

 

Chapter 3: I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in

Reader POV

Life was not fair. Never was to you. But that never seemed to faze you. if anything, that made you more resilient. Unafraid. Unbothered. Living in that small, noisy Brooklyn apartment, with a mother who worked herself to death trying to provide her children with a good life, a brother, the literal personification of sunshine, being picked on and bullied, tending to his bruises when he thought nobody’s looking.

It made you realise that the world is a dangerous place. It eats up those who stand unprepared. And so, you steeled yourself. Made yourself the most fearsome creature to behold in any room you entered. Your biting wit, your sass, you sharp intellect made you attractive to some, unappealing to many and untouchable to all.

There was only one who dared to play with the fireball that was Y/N Rogers. Only one for whom your guards went down. After all, if Steve trusted Bucky with his life, you could trust him with your heart. Right?

Turns out you couldn’t.

“This was supposed to be a temporary thing” he’d said.

“Do you really think I’m gonna take you home to my mother ? tell her you are what I want the Barnes legacy to continue with?” he’d sneered.

“Its time you go back to your dreams, and let me get on with mine.” He’d offered.

You never should have.

Bucky POV

Life was hilarious. Or at least it started seeming that way after years of neglect. He had everything a child could’ve wanted. All the toys in the world, the most expensive apparel, all the amenities a person could dream of. But the one thing he lacked was love. Pure genuine love.

His mother, The Winnifred Barnes of the upper east side, knew how to give birth to heirs, but did not have a clue about raising a child. Growing up in that negligent household, amongst people who were nefarious for being social climbers and gold diggers, little James soon realized that the only worth he has comes attached to his name. that no one would care for him if it weren’t for his billions.

But he was proved wrong when he met a lanky blond boy of Brooklyn at the music camp. It was there he shed the expensive cloak of James Buchanan Barnes and donned the dirty sneakers of Bucky. It was through Steve he recognised his own significance, that he could be something more than the well-groomed showpiece his family was expecting him to be.

And then he met you.

And it felt as if all his prayers had been answered.

You weren’t like Steve, not one bit. You were this fiery, self-assured human who could scorch the world with her brilliance. Unlike Steve, you were pragmatic. Unlike Bucky, you knew who you were and where you wanted to be.

And he fell for you. hard.

He borrowed some of your bravery, some of your light, and formed the Avengers with Steve, Sam and Wanda. He wanted to make something of himself to deserve you. to earn the jackpot that was your love.

However, for bucky, it seems happiness is always a temporary tryst. He tends to forget that.

Skiing was his passion. One of the many trappings of his privileged life that actually he enjoyed. It was the same passion that completely changed Bucky’s life. But unlike you, for the worse.

It was his own fault. No one else to be blamed. Had he heeded the weather warning, he wouldn’t be on that slope. he wouldn’t have been caught in that blizzard. He wouldn’t have lost his left arm.

When he regained his consciousness, the first face he saw was yours, streaked with tears, anguish in eyes.

You came there every day, sometimes under the pretence of dropping something for Steve, who refused to leave him alone, sometimes to fill in for his absence. The better bucky got, the more hopeful your eyes grew.

You’d altered everything to fit Bucky’s schedule. You worked late nights so that you could visit him in evenings after school, stopped going out with your friends to be with him instead. There were times you pulled an all nighter just so you could turn in your assignments on time.

He saw it all. The dark circles beneath your eyes, your tired face, the endless cups of coffee. It should’ve pained him, but the thought that you were there, to love him, to hold him, brought endless solace. and so he selfishly held on to you.

Until one day, Steve told him about your college acceptance letters.

“She got into Harvard Bucky! My baby girl in Harvard. Just think about that.” A hint of pride glimmered under his annoyance, “But she refuses to go. Says she cant leave Ma and I alone.”

“what ?!” Bucky had asked, guilt gnawing at him

“I mean Columbia is a decent school, but Harvard law?! It doesn’t get better than that. How far is Boston anyway?...”

Steve’s voice blended into the voices in Bucky’s brain. He knew the real reason behind your hesitation to go to Harvard was him. He remembered how excited you were when your adviser had confidently proclaimed that she is Harvard material.

And you were willing to let that go. For him.

Instead of joy, Bucky felt trepidation. Fear. Was this love? Or pity? Is this how the rest of your lives will be? You leaving things you love for his sake? And how long before you resent him? Hate him for all the opportunities you’d let go of for him?

How could he ever live with himself, knowing he was the anchor that was holding you back?

Bucky had resigned himself to live his life with his situation, but you didn’t have to. You , perfect in every way, intelligent, so beautiful that his heart ached.you should be with some one who deserved you. not him. Never him.

And so James Buchanan Barnes did something that was somehow more painful than ripping his heart out.

He let you go.

Reader POV

you woke up with a heavy head. It felt a lot like jet lag, except that it wasn’t. one did not get headaches by travelling from Boston to New York. One did, however get headaches after crying all night. Which was what you did last night.

It was embarrassing. Pathetic even. You thought you were over him, and all that it took was one glimpse of his to mess you up. You had a Suma cum laude from the most prestigious law schools in the world, scored job offers from the most esteemed firms, made grown men cower in front of in courtrooms, and yet, were drowning in a puddle of tears over a high school boyfriend.

To be fair though, your only boyfriend. After he dumped you, you swore off men, while he went on an array of affairs with so many women you lost count of it. The tabloids had always had a sweet spot for him. “The heartbreak prince” indeed. Its only that the prince did the heart breaking, not the other way round.

You ambled out of the bed and cleaned up. It was hours before your usual time, but well, its not as if you’re getting any sleep now, is it?  Its better to get some coffee for your pounding head. Your interview was tomorrow thank heavens. There was no way you could’ve done it today.

A clattering of utensils startled you. there’s no way Steve was up this early. Your confusion was immediately clarified as you came across the very bane of your existence hunched in the kitchen.

You tried to turn back and leave as noiselessly as you could. You cannot endure this so early in the morning. You’d rather go out to get coffee, there must be some place open at the ungodly hour. Its New York after all.

He turned that very instant, as if he could sense you. his beautiful blue eyes widened as he took you in, as dishevelled and disoriented as you were. After a long minute he shifted his gaze from your face, looking everywhere but in your direction.

You were beginning to suspect that God was punishing you for all your years of antagonism.

“I was about to leave.”

His voice, his goddamn voice. Your heart had always been ready to race out of your chest and beat to the rhythm of his speech. It was ready to do that now.

Had human beings been able to survive without a heart, you would’ve had yours surgically removed ages ago. Stupid, bloody organ always getting you in trouble.

a wave of guilt hit you as he started for the exit. He had done the same yesterday, leaving moment you guys entered, Sam dragging him away to help him do something you don’t recall. He returned after you went to bed, whenever that was. And now this. It felt wrong that he was uncomfortable in his home. It wasn’t his fault that you weren’t over what he called “a seasonal distraction”.

“stay” you rasped; your voice too low to be heard. You tried again. “Stay, James.”

He stilled. Stood frozen on the threshold long enough for you to wonder if he’d fallen asleep standing up. And then he turned. His eyes full of something you were scared to decipher. The silence was too oppressive, even for you.  

“we both know this would happen. We’re both adults, we can co inhabit a space without it imploding” your head was about to implode though, and not from the headache.

“yeah, right. Youre right.” He mumbled, still sticking by the door, which was a good thing because you needed coffee, and you were sure you couldn’t function properly with him in close proximity.

You turned towards the fancy coffee maker, which was far more advanced than the old spluttering relic that you had in your dorm. You fiddled with the buttons, trying to get it to work.

“here, let me.” He said, the low raspy baritone that made you shiver. You hoped he thought it was the morning chill.

He skirted around you to get to the counter, and yet his subtle smell plagued your senses. He turned the shiny knobs easily with his right arm, putting in a new filter and placing a cup near the nozzle.

“you still take your coffee black?”

The question, innocent at its core, jarred you. your ex remembering a small detail about your from years ago was not on your bingo card, but there you are.

“uh I umm, yes.” You internally cringed at the fact that you, the mock trial champion, was stuttering. He nodded slightly and continued.

“How can anyone like something like this?!”  he gagged, sliding your cup over to you.

“that’s what you get for taking a sip without my permission Barnes.” You smirked, snuggling in his outstretched arms, ready to resume his favourite movie that you honestly didn’t understand. All you cared for was spending time with him, even if it was hidden in his apartment.

“Atleast add sugar to it doll. Its too damn bitter.” He coughed.

“I like it bitter.”

You jerked at the small beep from the machine. Your eyes involuntarily went to his, only to recognise the same surprise there, as if this conversation took him to some other. the very thought of it gave you hope, and hope, you’ve realised over the years, is the most dangerous thing.

You hastily grabbed the cup, too eager to end this interaction. His presence was triggering emotions you have avoided for too long.

In your hurry you toppled the cup over, its blistering hot content pouring out. But before you could feel the burn, a shiny metal gripped your wrist and tugged you away. You staggered and stumbled forwards, bumping into his chest.

It was you who froze this time. too incapacitated by his smell, his body, him to move. You felt him draw in deep breaths, his heartbeat audibly speeding up. you stayed there for god knows how long.

It was he who withdrew. Because of course it was. You regained your composure and jumped back, frightened by the comfort that had washed over you in that moment.

“Thank you.” you gasped, and bolted out of the room right that instant.