#✧ you know? in all my years of living... i've never met anybody who wasn't important before.. ( ⚘rel; will / shxkespexre )

[tearmannfoilathe]

Tag Dump !

[kjupchurch-xx]

⭐️ Perfect ⭐️

                            July 26th, 2024

                       Los Angeles, California

                Deadpool & Wolverine Premiere

Tonight was the night we'd all been waiting for, the night we've worked so hard for. Tonight was the premiere party for Deadpool & Wolverine. I'd been working with the director, Shawn Levy along with making sure Hugh and Ryan had everything they needed while on set. I developed a super close friendship with Hugh and Ryan during the long filming process. I'd also gotten close with Blake, Ryan's wife. To be quite honest, everyone on our crew is probably the only people I'd consider friends since moving to Los Angeles four years ago.

I've done several films as a director's assistant over the last three years, but this film had been the greatest project I'd been apart of. Blake and I were at my home getting ready for the premiere while Hugh and Ryan were with Shawn preparing to meet us at the premiere. Our stylist came by earlier to finish up Blake and I's hair and makeup. They had us both sporting cute up-dos with a more natural makeup look with lighter neutral colors.

"I wonder what the guys are wearing tonight." Blake said while slipping into her beautiful red dress.

I shrugged, grabbing my black dress, sliding it on, "I don't know. Shawn wouldn't say."

She chuckled, "He never does. Did your ex finally stop blowing you up? Wasn't he trying to like show up on set some of the days we were filming?"

I rolled my eyes with disgust, "Yes, and yes. It's so funny how you ignore someone when you're with them and cheat on them but once they leave you on your ass, you want their attention."

We grabbed our stuff and headed towards the door as we saw our ride pulling up the driveway, "Have you met anybody you're even interested in yet? Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."  She smirked.

I laughed, shaking my head as we climbed into the SUV that was picking us up to shuttle us to the event, "Shut up, Blake. You're stating to sound like your husband."

She laughed, smiling at me, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

I looked at her, sarcasm dripping through my facial expression and my voice, "It is."

She took a hesitant breath, "Seriously though, someone asked me about you."

I looked at her curiously, "And who would that be?"

She smirked, "Hugh. He was at our place the other night while you and Shawn stayed behind to finish up cutting scenes."

My jaw dropped, "What did he say?"

She shrugged, "He just asked us how long you'd been single and if he seemed like your type. He said he thinks you're gorgeous."

I turned to face her, completely flabbergasted, "You are so full of shit, Lively."

She burst into laughter, "Ask Ryan!"

I widened my eyes, shaking my head, "He's more full of shit than you are!" I failed to contain my laughter at this point.

She giggled, "Just watch. Pay attention to how he looks at you at the premiere. You'll see."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "Okay, Blake."

Had Hugh actually talked to Ryan and Blake about me? He was a nice guy. We'd become friends since we met on set over a year ago. We'd done some press together and make each other laugh, but for some reason, I doubt he'd be interested in me. Not that there's anything wrong with me, he's just one of the biggest A-List celebrities in the world. He's also not even one year out of separation from his wife of 27 years. Dating is probably the last thing on this man's mind.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet. I couldn't shake my thoughts. I think he's handsome, he's absolutely ripped and his personality is out of this world. His accent is pretty sexy, too.

As we pulled up to the premiere location, Blake and I exited our vehicle, "Let's go, girls." Blake said, channeling her inner Shania Twain causing me to smile.

"Where's the boys?" I asked as we walked down the corridor.

Blake checked her phone, "They're waiting to step onto the red carpet. Which is..." she trailed off while looking down the corridor, "Right down there on the left."

I nodded, trying to hide my nerves. I've been on other movie sets, I've worked with other stars but I've never done a red carpet event. What if I fall and bust my ass? What if my dress malfunctions? So many what-ifs. As we arrived to the end of the corridor, I see Hugh, Ryan and Shawn waiting for us. Blake walks over to Ryan and they share a quick kiss.

"Anyone else feel like a 3rd wheel?" I jokingly said towards Hugh and Shawn, causing Shawn to shake his head and laugh, "Every time I work with these two." He said.

Hugh hooked his arm around mine, "You can be my date tonight." He gave me a smile.

I blushed, looking towards Blake as she gave me a silly 'I told you' look while hooking her arm around Ryan's. "Ohhhh, Big Deb's gonna be pissed!" He spat jokingly causing us all to laugh.

Hugh shrugged, "Oh well. She's the one that wanted to end things. Time to move on. Plus, I don't want to be the nerd showing up without a date." He said with a laugh and cheeky grin.

Ryan looked at me, "Fuck you, your first time on the red carpet and you're going as Hugh Jackman's date. I had to fondle his balls just to get him on this film. You lucky, lucky girl."

I shook my head, about to ruin my 2 hour makeup job from tears hitting my eyes at this point due to laughing so hard. "Guys, I'm pretty sure we need to go out there." I chuckled pointing towards the doorway that led to the red carpet.

We all nodded in agreement and made our way out. The sound of the thousands of photographers, fans screaming and journalists on the red carpet filled my ears. I felt Hugh tighten his grip on my arm, whispering in my ear, "Don't be nervous, you're gonna do great!" Causing me to smile.

We all posed for pictures as the reporters went wild. Hugh had not been seen in public with anyone since his split last year, so this was a big deal. The movie we'd all worked our asses off on was a big deal. The shouting was unreal and unbelievably loud.

Blake and Ryan went to another spot to do solo photos, leaving Hugh and I to ourselves on the carpet. A reporter took this as his perfect moment to approach us with rapid fire questions I was bracing myself for.

"Hugh. Kaitlyn. How does it feel to be on the red carpet tonight?" He asked, shoving the microphone into our faces.

We at looked at each other, "It feels great, mate. Glad to be here." Hugh said with a smile.

"Like he said, we're honored to be here." I said with a big smile.

"Kaitlyn, this is your first time on the red carpet." The journalist said matter of factly.

I nodded in agreement, noticing Hugh has not taken his eyes off of me. "It is."

The journalist continued to pry, "First red carpet and you're on Hugh Jackman's arm, how does that feel?" He asked.

I blushed, "Ryan Reynolds paid me to be his date. Someone had to take one for the team." I smirked, causing the journalist and Hugh to laugh.

As we continued our walk down the carpet, Hugh moved his hand from my arm to around my waist. We talked with many more journalists and posed for hundreds of photos before heading off the carpet to the back of the venue. There were some artists that were due to perform for the event. Some of them included Ed Sheeran, Taylor Swift, Jelly Roll, etc.

Hugh looked over at me, "Noldsy paid you, huh?" He joked.

I joked, "Only a few hundred."

He playfully gripped his chest, "Ouch."

I threw my hands up signaling defeat, "If it helps, I'm glad I took one for the team and you weren't stuck holding Shawn on the red carpet."

He grimaced playfully at the sight, "You're certainly the prettier one."

I snickered. "Am I?"

He nodded with a cheeky smile, "Loads, sweetheart."

I'm starting to think Blake may have not been as full of shit as I'd thought. We made our way back to Blake and Ryan catching up in the crowd to watch the musical entertainment of the night. Taylor Swift took the stage first, causing Ryan to fan girl. Ed Sheeran came on right after, all was great until he began performing his hit song 'Perfect'. All of the couples in the crowd had begun slow dancing. It was a romantic, sweet song but being single in a crowd of couples was depressing.

I felt a presence behind me as a hand made its way to my lower back, "Care to dance with me?" I heard in an Australian accent.

I looked over my shoulder to see Hugh smiling a bit nervously. I turned to face him and gave him a nod and small smile, allowing him to pull me into his arms for a slow dance. We both swayed to the song, singing along, never breaking eye contact. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping he'd kiss me. I could tell he was thinking about it as his eyes kept trailing from my eyes to my lips as he held me close, continuing to sway to the sound of Ed Sheeran serenading the crowd.

I slowly bit my lip as I noticed his eyes glance at my lips again. His face slowly coming closer. I could feel Blake and Ryan's gaze on us wondering what was about to happen. Did I even know what was about to happen? Did I want to know? Before I could process any more thoughts of my own, I felt his lips on mine. They were soft and he smelled so damn good.

I know we're standing in a room full of hundreds of thousands of people, but in this moment, it feels as if he and I were the only two people in the room. The kiss was slow and passionate.

He slowly pulled away, still swaying me and looked at me, "I'm sorry, but I've had a crush on you ever since we began working together. I've wanted to ring you so many times and tell you, but I didn't want to complicate things on set."

I smiled pulling him for another kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip before pulling away, "Ryan actually didn't pay me to be your plus one."

He chuckled, "I know."

I looked up at him, "Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere more private?"

He nodded, grabbing my hand, leading us through the massive crowd of people. As we made our way down out of the concert venue back to the corridor, we noticed Blake and Ryan already ahead of us.

"Ah Pal, gettin' lucky, huh?" Ryan smirked.

Hugh and I laughed, "We are too. It's okay. Embrace it. Embrace the amounts of great sex you're about to have." Ryan continued while nodding his head as if he were a love guru.

"Goodnight, Ryan." We both said in unison watching Blake, who was unable to control her laughter at this point.

Hugh and I made our way to the car and of course couldn't escape the sea of paparazzi. Except this time, we didn't pose for pictures and continued to the car. There were pressing matters that needed to be attended to first. Once we got into the car, we instructed the driver to take us to my house.

Hugh rested his arm around my shoulders, "How long have you known?"

I looked at him, confused, "How long have I known what?"

He looked at me seriously, "That I have a thing for you."

I shrugged, "I actually didn't. Blake mentioned it to me earlier, but I assumed she was full of shit. Kind of like the time you told Ryan to come to your Christmas party in an ugly sweater so he shows up and everyone else is in Dior."

Hugh laughed, "Love, you're anything but an ugly sweater at a party full of people wearing Dior."

I began laughing, "You get the point."

He gave me the boyish smile that had melted my heart since the first time I saw him onscreen and pushed a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, "You are the most elegant, beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on."

I blushed, "You're not so bad yourself. I've actually had more of a school girl crush on you since the first X-Men movie."

He smiled cockily, "Really?"

I nodded, "Really."

He pulled me in for another kiss, this time pulling me onto his lap, deepening the kiss. I could feel his erection growing beneath me, causing me to pull away so we didn’t cause our driver to have a wreck before we made it back to my place.

“So what do we do now?” I asked casually, looking at him.

He shrugged, getting close to my ear, whispering “We’re going back to your place first, then I’m going to fuck you into the middle of next week. After that, we’ll cuddle. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning and after that, you’ll never want to leave.”

I chuckled pulling him into another kiss.

[midnightshindig]

Very much inspired by that other post with Rex and Cecil but Immortal x Viltrumite reader. Reader is a deep cover agent to back up Nolan but stayed in cover when Nolan went off the handle. Instead of Kate, reader started hooking up with Immortal. Eventually, Immortal finds out and confronts reader. Although, reader does love Immortal since he's at least as strong as a young Viltrumite and will live just as long if not longer.

Immortal x Viltrumite!Reader

Gender neutral as per usual, and as always, fic under the cut!

You were so pissed when Nolan abandoned Earth

Luckily you had the foresight to not tell anybody you were also a Viltrumite

Especially not your Nolan-hating partner of a few months

You'd been casually hooking up since he came back to the Guardians, since you were the only person on the team who could keep up with him physically, and who also had the longevity he did

Honestly it was pretty sad, you thought, that you'd have to take him out before conquering Earth

I mean... did you really have to? As long as you didn't copulate with him, you could probably keep him as a pet of some type?

Either way, he was pretty obsessed with you

What had started at hooking up in the showerroom turned into sitting together on the couch turned into talking about your past lives.

"I've lived dozens of lives, Y/n. I've been married to hundreds of women and had a handful of children across them all, none of which possessed the powers I do. I've been alone in this universe for the entire duration of it-" He put his hand over yours as you watched the sky "But it comforts me to know you have just as much of a past as I do"

You told him altered versions of your childhood, true to life in all but the Viltrumite details

"I grew up on a highly militaristic planet that believed companionship made one weak. I've never..... had a real partner before. Not on my home planet- I mean. I've been with humans since arriving- but I'm hundreds of years older than they are, and will live for thousands more."

This was a sentiment you shared

and so, battling many different obstacles, you two started dating seriously

Keeping him as a pet post-colonization was seeming more and more likely as the days went by

So when he proposed...

with a ring, he hand forged nonetheless...

How could you say no?

and things were good for a while.

but not even the smoothing sandpaper of immortality could buff out the rough edges of your relationship

Especially not when your partner overheard an intercom between you and your fellow Viltrumite, giving an update on the progress on Earth since Nolan's disappearance

"Yes, commander, things have been well. These people and their protectors are weak, our only concerns are Nolans spawn, but they are weak willed and have not been trained in any meaningful capacity-"

your comms were cut off as The Immortal smashed the device laid in front of you, cutting you off and peering down at you with disdain and hurt

"What was that?"

"what was what?"

"Y/n, you're... a viltrumite? Here to take over Earth?" his voice was stern, gruff like it always is, but covering it was a thick layer of pain

He folded his arms and sighed "What was your plan? To dispose of me? To marry me and what? Keep me as a pet?"

....ouch.

He had you pegged.

You wanted to defend yourself, but you didn't have anything to say

"Was it even real? Or am I like Debbie to you? Weak and a waste of time like she was to Omni Man?"

"No-!" You cut him off, reaching for him but being met with an evasive step back

"No. Immortal, I wasn't lying to you" you lied. like a lying liar. "I love you, and you're not like Debbie- you're an equal to me!"

You motioned with your hands as he tensed, allowing you to speak, steadying his glare on your figure

"You're going to live just as long as I am, if not longer! you're not as strong as me, but you could easily pass for a weaker Viltrumite. My people- ugh.... Immortal, they could accept you as one of our own. We could be happy."

His stiff upper lip didn't give you much hope, but when he sighed a deep, heavy sigh, slumping his shoulders and leaning onto you, you knew it would be okay

"I'm not like Nolan, I'm not going to let any real harm befall these people. I'm going to prepare them for takeover, they'll be ready. Nobody has to die, Immortal. This will be a safe process if you let it be, and... you can stay with me"

He said nothing, wrapping his arms around you wordlessly and burying his head into your shoulder, his massive frame hunched over you

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke in a soft voice

"I have to protect these people. They're my people."

You lifted his head and cupped his cheek "aren't you tired? We have the resources to protect these people, your people- our people- forever. Wouldn't you like to retire? Wouldn't you like to... settle down?"

That convinced him, and his cracked a soft smile at you

"No needless bloodshed or subjugation?"

You shook your head "A peaceful transfer of power, let the people with millennia of experience take the reigns for a while, put up your feet"

He sighed again, and the tension leaving his body was obvious

"God I can't wait to marry you, Y/n."

You stroked the back of his head and smiled "I can't wait either, Immortal."

Hopefully he wouldn't be too mad when he found out you'd continued to lie to him

but by then, you'd have worn him down enough to be truly okay with it

for now, all you had to do was plan a wedding.

[prophecyprompts]

#SPOTIFY WRAPPED. assortment of lyrics from various songs that were on my spotify wrapped this year (changed to be more dialogue-like) — on shuffle! ❤️

STOLEN DANCE.

i want you by my side.

i hope they didn’t get your mind.

your heart’s too strong.

i want you.

we need to fetch back the time they have stolen from us.

never danced like this before.

shouldn’t talk about it.

i cannot find the way out of here.

i want you by my side so i can never feel alone again.

the only thing i feel is pain caused by absence of you.

LOOK AFTER YOU.

forgive the urgency.

it's always ‘have’ & never ‘hold’.

there, now… steady, love.

if i don't say this now, i will surely break.

so few come & don't go.

will you — won’t you — be the one i always know?

you’ve begun to feel like home.

you’re the only one who knows.

what’s mine is yours, to leave or take.

be my baby.

i’ll look after you.

CHASING CARS.

we don’t need anything or anyone.

we’ll do it all, everything, on our own.

if i just lay here, would you lie with me & just forget the world?

i don’t quite know how to say how i feel.

show me a garden that's bursting into life.

i need your grace to remind me to find my own.

forget what we’re told.

those three words are said too much, but not enough.

all that i am, all that i ever was is here in your perfect eyes; they’re all i can see.

just know that these things will never change for us at all.

THE NIGHT WE MET.

take me back to the night we met.

i'm haunted by the ghost of you.

i don't know what i'm supposed to do.

i am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt.

your eyes were filled with tears.

i had all & then most of you, some, & now none of you.

the night was full of terror.

you had not touched me yet.

i've been searching for a trail to follow again.

AGAINST THE KITCHEN FLOOR.

i don't owe you my heart.

you should know that i'm sorry for being careless with you.

i don't owe you my body.

lord knows i owe you more than i'm pretty sure i ever could give anybody.

i swear, i'm really trying.

i haven't died quite as much.

i just haven't learned how to be human as you are yet.

honestly thought nobody'd want it, let alone notice it's gone.

i know you've got scars of your own.

i've lived more lives than enough.

how did i cause so much harm?

but someday i'll be perfect, & i'll make up for it all.

i'm sorry, i know this can't go on.

i'll either live or die alone.

fuck. i'm sorry.

i'm still in the process, but i'm making progress.

i swear, i will die trying.

i promise i'm doing my best.

i'm apologizing for my life & ever entering yours.

i'm not a good person; i'm barely a person at all.

i still don't know who you are.

i only know that i'm still lonely.

I AM NOT A ROBOT.

you've been acting awful tough lately.

but inside, you're just a little baby.

better to be hated than loved for what you're not.

it's okay to say you've got a weak spot.

just open up & sing.

you don't always have to be on top.

i'm vulnerable.

you don't answer the phone when it rings.

don't be so pathetic.

can you teach me how to feel real?

you are not a robot.

you're lovable, but you're just troubled.

you are so magnetic.

BLUE MONDAY.

i thought i heard you speak.

tell me, how should i feel?

how does it feel to treat me like you do?

i find it so hard to say what i need to say.

i thought i told you to leave me.

but i'm quite sure that you'll tell me just how i should feel today.

thought i was mistaken.

i can & shall obey.

i see a ship in the harbor.

i'd be a heavenly person today.

now, i stand here waiting.

tell me, how does it feel when your heart grows cold?

if it wasn't for your misfortune...

[opossum-by-night]

Well my dad finally surrendered his dog last week, and man have I been having feelings about it 🙃

(TW animal neglect/abuse)

I guess fortunately the biggest one is relief??? Like this should have happened 8+ months ago, so better late than never I guess?? He failed her on pretty much every level and she deserves a home where someone will actually like, devote some amount of attention and time and care to her!!! And actually enjoy her company and not just bitch about her acting like a normal bored unsupervised puppy!!!! Going back to the shelter is not the ✨ideal✨ solution for that, but at least they have connections with rescues and stuff that he never would've bothered to put the work in to find himself. Trying to find a home for a teenage husky/pit with literally zero training or socialization is about as hard as it gets outside of bite risk dogs, but she's affectionate and cute and very smart, so hopefully she's at least semi-adoptable. If she'd stayed with him, it would've been a matter of time before she either killed a cat or chicken and he put her down for it, or she hurt herself while totally unsupervised and died because he's too fucking cheap to pay for real vet care. Thankfully the shelter has spayed her since he gave her back (because he was also too cheap to do that 🙃) so at least she won't end up in a puppy mill, making more unadoptable mutts. So hopefully chances are good that whoever adopts her will at least do better than *that*, right??? And this shelter has a very good track record of never euthanizing adoptable animals, so it's unlikely she'll end up put down by them, right??? Idk, I'm trying not to let myself feel responsible for the consequences of his actions, regardless of what they turn out to be 🫠

But I'm also so fucking mad at him because he literally failed her on every 👏 possible 👏 level 👏 in spite of LITERALLY EVERYONE he talked to warning him that he was making a mistake, and a bunch of people trying to help him fix things after he'd already made it!!! But he's too fucking stubborn and egotistical to admit he fucked up before a YEAR passed and he now has a basically feral adult dog!!! The poor thing is 50lbs+ and a year and a half old and she's never walked on a leash, never lived inside a house or been potty trained, never met a child, never met another dog besides our ancient family dog, and has zero training to speak of, and now her life depends on someone else being okay with taking a dog like that, ALL SO HE COULD LEARN THE HARD WAY INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO ANYONE ELSE EVER!!!!!! If she doesn't get adopted and does end up euthanized, or if she goes to an even worse home that just ties her to a chain in the yard, IT'S 100% HIS FUCKING FAULT!!!!! AND SHE DOES NOT DESERVE THAT!!!!!

But also also, I can't really stop myself from wanting to feel sympathetic because I've been forced to re-home animals that I physically couldn't keep up with and it was genuinely traumatic. But the difference is I TRIED *SO HARD* TO MAKE IT WORK????? AND HE DIDN'T TRY AT FUCKING ALL????? He's retired and has basically zero obligations besides going to his mom's for 24 hours to help her out like once every other month, so if anybody had the time to train and supervise her, it would be HIM!!!!! My mom - who's working full-time and did not fucking sign up for this - did infinitely more for that dog!!!! And I know very well that sometimes the problem doesn't have anything to do with the literal *time* commitment, but it's not like he just couldn't handle the level of effort it required either, because he didn't even fucking *pretend* to try!!!!! He googled anxiety medication (because he thinks she has anxiety, and definitely wasn't acting out because she basically lives in solitary fucking confinement) once and realized he'd have to give it to her *every day* and it would take a few weeks to work, and THAT was too much work for him!!!! FUCK OFF!!!!! And then he has the nerve to talk shit about THE DOG, like "you guys can tell the shelter about her, all I'd have to say is how she tore up my yard and all my shit," and I don't think I have ever been more truly viscerally disgusted by this person. Like he's done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but to not even have the decency to not insult THE LIVING CREATURE WHO YOU NEGLECTED AND THEN DOOMED BECAUSE YOU'RE A SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT ARE YOU F U C K I N G S E R I O U S !?!?!?!?!?!?!?

But then also every time I talk to my mom about it she says he's so upset and broken up about it because he knows it's his fault and he fucked up. And like, I have never seen my dad be openly sad about anything before??? And the most I've heard in terms of acknowledging his fuck up is shit like "yeah yeah, I'm a dumbass and it's all my fault 🙄". So like, is he acting differently at home in front of her that I don't see?? Is she counting that as him being "so upset" because by contrast it's as close as he gets??? Like is he actually sad about the situation or just pissed off and embarrassed that he has to admit he was wrong??? He's ✨so upset✨ about it that he's backed out of surrendering her multiple times before and it's taken him A YEAR to actually do it, but not so upset that he was actually willing to try ANYTHING different to help the situation??? Or listen to anyone else about ways to make things better?? Like I've tried to teach him how to train her, and given him resources in case he didn't want to hear it from me, and he hasn't fucking touched them?? My mom literally hired a trainer and worked with her to try to do something about it herself, but he never even asked my mom what the trainer said???

.

Some lady from this organization that promotes and shares the shelter animals commented when the shelter posted her, asking for more info from the owners, so I PMd her a big long essay about everything I knew about her and what I thought she needed in a home. I tried to be honest (so she doesn't get returned *again* by someone else that's unprepared) but positive (so maybe someone will still actually want to adopt her). I decided that was one thing I could do to actually help the dog without getting too involved and making myself feel responsible and guilty somehow. The lady seemed positive that the info and the couple extra photos I sent her would help find her a good fit. I really hope it does. I also hope that getting all of this out helps me stop thinking about it constantly. And that maybe someday my dad will own up to one thing ever in his life and eventually I'll stop wanting to physically fight him. But mostly that she gets a home. She deserves to be fucking loved.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Stevie?

LMAOOOOOO Yes Stevie.

Theres a rant below <3

She's a professor I've had the displeasure of teaching me this year. Met her for a class in fall and have her for TWO classes this semester.

Initially I was okay with her, shes a lil hard to swallow at first but I'm pretty flexible and can get along with anybody for the most part!

but she has recently made mine and my fellow peers a living hell this semester regarding our senior project/thesis. Even past seniors/alumni we talked to with different teachers presiding over the projects said they didn't have it this bad.

She's condescending, sarcastic (in the worst way), unsupportive!!! Like, I couldn't tell you that she has said one nice thing about ANY of our projects. I haven't met one person who was able to get a grade higher than a C in her classes (there was 15 people in one class, and 24 in another. EVERYONE HAD C's.). She's hella picky, and she constantly would try to change something of yours to fit her views.

One thing that drove me NUTS was that when we did our practice presentations for our senior project- if someone wasn't talking loud enough (like me) she would just interrupt you and go "LOUDER!" all rudely. Completely derail train of thought while doing something that all of us was obviously nervous for.

I've learned how to tell her minimal info at best when it comes to projects and shut her down fast because if you don't she'll just go into this soul crushing rant about how certain things need to be change regarding your project.

On one hand, she is simply just trying to help us do better in her own way- I'm not that hateful that I can't admit that. She has def taught me to challenge some aspects of myself, great! I never want to see her again. Shes quitting teaching after this semester- I know some people purposely holding back graduating because they don't want her for the senior project.

There's a lot more to it but I'm gonna leave it at that because I wanna get back to writing old man smut

She's one of two people I can truly say I hope I never see again.

[ceasarslegion]

Uncle story?

Oh boy!

So the first thing i need to say about my uncle is that he is an idiot. Terminally stupid and also the most self-righteous bastard I've ever met. Truly deadly combo.

I must also start by clarifying that this is not the same openly gay uncle who is a Scottish lord and ran for mayor of a small Saskatchewan town because he was bored and won and then showed up to all the official things in a top hat. That is technically my great uncle and on my dad's side. We must not smear that uncle's name due to confusing him with my mom's brother who is too stupid to realize how stupid he is and thinks the fact that no one can understand what the fuck he's ever talking about is a sign of intelligence.

So my uncle is openly gay. And he lives in the UK as a dual dutch-canadian citizen. He is engaged to an Israeli man (do not discourse on this post. I mention his nationality to highlight something else I will mention. Just some guy who doesn't even live there is not responsible for a certain conflict going on). He also grew up in Dubai but family went back to Canada for a spell around when he entered high school. He works as a travel agent last time I checked, but he can never hold down a job for more than a few months without getting fired so who knows at this point.

You're with me, yes? Gay, immigrant, fiance from another country, grew up in the gulf?

This motherfucker. Said he would vote for Trump if he were american and that brexit was a good idea. And is anti-immigration. And thinks feminism is cancer. And once tried to convince my mom that men across the UK were being arrested for "stare-rape" which is apparently when you just look at a woman in public and she can then claim you raped her with your eyes. And thinks pride is pedophilic. And thinks bisexuality is just people who want to be special and can't pick a side. And the only person he's still on speaking terms with in my immediate family is my grandma who is just as toxic as he is stupid.

My dad once said, word for word, while a few drags into a blunt: "if I ever see [uncle] again, I'm going to beat the shit out of him for what he said about my son." I don't know what exactly happened to get him kicked out of my parents apartment when they cut ties with him during a visit, but I know it was a screaming match over something to do with me. I had long moved out at that point so I wasn't there to see it. And this is coming from the mouth of the same guy from my red bull and snickers post, my dad is not a violent or scary guy and I've never seen him lay a hand on anybody.

My uncle and I used to be really close when I was a kid because he's a very artistic person, and I was too. We were the two creatives in the family. Also as a queer kid who didn't know he was trans yet I was naturally drawn to queer masculine influences. This fell apart pretty quickly when I started like, growing into my own person instead of a carbon copy of the people around me. He was steadily becoming dumber and dumber to me but it really came to a head in 2016

So trump wins the US election. I am still living in Abu Dhabi at this point and I had just graduated high school in June of that year. My boss is American. She is devastated and says she's going home early that day because she needs a few hours to process what's gonna happen now. At my desk I make a Facebook post saying that if any of the americans I knew refused to vote over your own self-righteous bs that I don't want to talk to you again because you clearly cared more about having the moral high ground than sucking it up for the people who trump will go on to hurt. This post is a big hit among my Arab majority peers.

This goes on without incident. 3 months later my uncle comments a big essay on it sucking trumps dick and saying some pseudo-qanon shit about Hillary Clinton. I respond citing actual sources and hit him where it hurts: Mike pence's then-plan to divert AIDS research funding into conversion therapy.

I go back to work (I am at work when the response happens too). About an hour later my phone buzzes on my desk. I open it to an essay twice the size in my messenger DMs from him crytyping about how I've changed and turned into such a whiny SJW, how I'm no longer the same person i was when I was 11 (damn I hope so), how I'm such a bully now (YOU CAME ONTO *MY* POST 3 MONTHS LATER???), and uh, no word of a lie, that he can't be racist because he dated a black man in high school. I. I never mentioned race in the post or my response to him. He brought that up on his own.

I ended up calling him out on it by replying to his public comment with "hey if you're gonna cry about how you're not racist in my inbox for pages and pages on end like that because someone said you were being stupid at least do it in the same place you were flaunting your idiocy, damn."

We didn't talk for a good couple years after that. And then something came up and we talked again for a bit, I don't remember exactly what anymore but we had to interact in person for it. I was willing to be civil, he started by doing the equivalent of crossing his arms and pouting until I said sorry for how mean I was to such a sensitive little muffin on the internet. Very mature guy I'm related to here isn't he. Insane how he's the uncle and I'm the nephew huh

This lasted for a good 2 weeks. Because the pokemon sun and moon leaks happened and I showed him the character models for red and blue and joked that they looked like a newlywed couple on their honeymoon in Hawaii. Pokemon was one of the few things we could still agree on at this point, so i was trying to bridge a gap with a family member with it. Thinking that he would appreciate the joke as a gay man.

He exploded at me. Like full on screaming exploded at me over that. He yelled about how homophobic I was, that i had no right to call myself queer because I hadn't been sexually assaulted or threatened to be murdered (HE HASNT EITHER??? LIKE HE VERY MUCH HASNT 😭😭😭 also you are making a LOT of assumptions about the life of someone you made NO effort to be a part of despite him giving you every olive branch you could possibly grab), that it was insulting to every gay person in the world to say that the best representation we deserved was pokemon (THATS NOT WHAT I SAID??? Also what's wrong with a gay pokemon character 😭 how is that insulting 😭😭) and that I had no idea what it was like to suffer for my identity. He said this while I was living in a place where queer people got executed for being moral degenerates btw.

Something in me snapped that day and I responded with "oh tell me more about how hard your life was in your dubai villa with an in-ground pool and a hired nanny. I'll truly never suffer as much as you have. Tell me more about how you threw the first brick at stonewall."

My parents had to stop themselves from laughing at that response and steered me out before my uncle could explode even more, and I never talked to him again.

[tmnt-tychou]

All Hallows Eve

Meant to be Bayverse, but you could probably imagine its any of them.

Female Reader x All Four Turtles (Slightly Mikey x Reader)

All Hallows Eve

She was dressed as an angel, standing on a street corner looking lost. The white feathered wings with matching boots seemed to glow with a light all their own in the dark, tin-foil halo glittering above her head. She caught Michelangelo's attention with her costume, but he had no plan to approach her at first.

Halloween was the one day a year where he and his brothers could walk the streets in the open without people screaming for their lives. But it still came with its own caveats. They only went out at night and stayed away from any bright lights that could give people a clear look at their forms. And they could never stay in one place for too long. People would compliment their “costumes” in passing, but if they lingered, people would realize they were too big, too real to be costumes.

So even though they were out among the humans, they continued to live in the shadows like ninja, but enjoying the fanfare of a New York Halloween. It was the closest any of them could get to feeling like part of society and Michelangelo milked it for all he could. He kept moving through the neighborhood block parties, enjoying the costumes and partaking of the street food.

That was when Michelangelo saw her. She seemed to be looking for something, or she was lost. But he wasn't sure if he should approach. Not until she looked his way; looked right at him. Her eyes were big, haunting. And they drew him in like she needed him. He found himself walking out of the crowd toward her.

“Hey there, Angel,” he said, referring to her costume. “You okay?” He knew he was big, even for someone pretending to be in a costume. He tried to hunch, make himself smaller. Non-threatening to a woman being approached by a stranger.

She didn't seem to be bothered by his looks or his size. She almost seemed relieved someone had asked about her. “I...I think I'm a bit lost. I was trying to get to a party, but I don't know the city very well and...” she looked at her empty hands, “I've misplaced my phone so I don't have the address.”

“Well that's no good,” Michelangelo replied. “Can I help you find it? Do you remember the address?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I only moved to the city a few weeks ago. I don't know where anything is. I met some people who invited me to this party.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to stop herself from getting emotional. “I just wanted to make some friends here.”

Michelangelo knew better, but he spoke anyway. “I'll be your friend. My name's Mike. My brothers and I are just out enjoying the vibe. Do you want to hang with us for a bit? Then I can make sure you get home when you're ready. Uh...that is if you're okay kicking it with some strangers for a while.”

She smiled, grateful. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Are your brothers giant turtles, too?”

He laughed. “Yeah, we all decided to wear the same thing. Like a group costume.”

He didn't notice she mentioned nothing about costumes.

***********

“What I'm saying is the whole shtick of The Addams Family is that they're weirdos,” Donatello said as he chewed on a caramel apple slice. “They're different than anybody else. But when you put her in a boarding school where everyone is weirdos—supernatural creatures—you're throwing the whole gimmick of the franchise out the window. The story would have worked better if the school was full of normal people. And she would have been the only one able to solve the murder mystery because only she would have suspected a supernatural killer.”

Raphael picked up his forth taco of the night. For a mutant his size, they were hardly a mouthful. But damn, they were so good. “I dunno about any of that, Don. But if you didn't like 'Wednesday', you don't have to keep watching it.”

“Yo, broooos!” Michelangelo called from below. “Come meet our new friend.”

The three other turtles looked down from where they sat on various levels of a metal fire escape. Each had been enjoying the food they collected from the street party, but had ultimately decided to eat in private and watch the people from the alley where they hid.

Leonardo, who was perched just a little higher than Raphael, leaned down so his face was more to his level. “Does Mike have a human with him?”

Raphael sighed. “Looks like. He's always been a sucker for a pretty face. Especially one that will say two words to him. Any two words. Even if it's 'fuck off.'”

Leonardo smirked and then gripped the railing. “Well, let's go meet Mike's new friend and hopefully that will be that.” But he wasn't thinking. He just hopped over the rail and landed two stories down like it was nothing.

Even Michelangelo was silently motioning for him to cut it on the ninja stuff as the two remaining brothers climbed down like normal people.

“So these are my brothers: Don, Raph, and Leo,” Michelangelo introduced. “And this beautiful angel is uh...” He looked helplessly to the human woman.

“Angel works,” she smiled back. “Hi.”

They all smiled back at her, a little awkward and a little clueless on what to do with her.

“Angel got lost trying to get to a party,” Michelangelo continued. “She's new in town and doesn't know the city too well. I thought we could hang out with her for a while and then make sure she gets home safe. What do you guys think?”

The brothers looked at each other and wordlessly agreed. How could they turn down anyone needing a safe chaperon for the night?

“You hungry, Angel?” Raphael asked.

“I could eat.” Her shrug made her cute little wings flap slightly and all four turtles went a little soft for her. She was a woman their age and she looked at them without fear. Like they were her peers. Like they were normal. How could they not go a little soft for that?

As the bottomless pits they were, the turtles didn't mind buying more food for themselves as well. They were happy to purchase anything Angel wanted while they were at it. At first, they wanted to make it quick. They knew lingering out among the humans for too long would give them away. But this time, something amazing happened.

Angel happened. All it took was one person to be with them. To talk with them like they were normal people and that strange bridge between human and mutant was built. With Angel near them, no matter how much their size crept into the uncanny valley for the masses, they were normal. Other people partying on the street didn't stare at them and quickly walk away anymore. A few people even stopped to compliment them on their costumes or even ask how they were made.

Raphael usually answered with random comments like “animatronics and rubber suits” or “it's CGI” and people would walk off confused. But not scared, and that was the important part.

As Leonardo ordered a basket of fries at a food truck to share with their new friend, he heard her talking to Donatello.

“Right?” she was saying. “This boarding school wasn't even really Addams Family core either. It was like...slightly spookier Hogwarts. Slightly. Fucking Harry Potter. Now everything has to be at a school.”

“I see you both have some strong feelings about a TV show,” Leonardo joked as he approached them. He offered Angel the warm fries in his hand. He thought she would take the whole basket, it was mostly meant for her. But she only took a few.

“For the most part, I was pretty on board with the whole show,” she continued. “But when Wednesday was stabbed, that was...jarring. Usually the family is portrayed as either liking pain, or they are somewhat impervious to injury. Maybe a bit of both. You never really know for sure. There's almost an immortal feel to them. There's just too many stories today that should have been original projects, but they keep being tacked onto existing franchises, but they don't have any respect for the lore.”

“Exactly!” Donatello agreed. He also grabbed a few fries and put them in his mouth. “The show and the story weren't bad per se, but it's not really an Addams Family story, so it wasn't as satisfying for fans as it could have been with a few tweaks.”

“God, are you still dragging that show?” Michelangelo sighed. “Angel, come dance with me. Let's enjoy this party while we can.”

He grabbed her hand, so small and delicate in his. She allowed him to lead her out into the thick of the crowd. The Monster Mash was playing over the speakers, a DJ at the stage in the front. The two found themselves a space to boogie and went about shaking their asses, just another normal pair in the sea of costumed party-goers.

“So what made you move to New York?” Michelangelo asked.

“Just trying some place new,” Angel replied. “Got tired of the little podunk town I came from. Not a lot of work there. Was hoping to find more opportunities out here. Maybe get some schooling in. What about you? How long have you been in the NYC?”

“All my life. Was born here. Might even die here. Big fan of the Big Apple.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do with yourself here?”

“Uh...” He paused for a bit, brain trying to come up with a reasonable response. No one had ever asked him his occupation before. “I work with the city in kind of a...crime watch capacity. Trying to clean the crime off the streets, make neighborhoods safer. That kind of thing.”

“Oh, like with the police?”

“I mean...we work with the police sometimes but what we do is more like...a neighborhood watch situation but on a larger scale.”

“Does that pay anything?”

“Uh, not really. It's more of a non-profit type organization. Donnie's the one that makes all the money. He's into tech and sells patents and stuff. He sort of bankrolls us so we can keep going.”

“Oh wow, that's a really noble goal. Though how to do watch the neighborhood on nights that aren't Halloween? With you guys being big turtles and all?”

At first, Michelangelo thought she was joking. “Heh, what?”

“You know, you guys are big turtles. How do you get around the other days of the week if you look after the neighborhoods? You can't convince people these are costumes forever.”

It was such a jarring revelation that Michelangelo's brain shut down, and then immediately went into panic mode. He picked her up under his arm like she was a plank of wood and fled the open area. He slipped through the crowds of people with an uncanny ease for his size and then continued to run past where his brothers were standing.

“Mike!” Raphael called after him.

When that didn't even slow his brother down, the three followed after him into a small, dead-end alley that was poorly-lit and would have very little visibility from the street.

“What?” Leonardo asked as they caught up with him. “What happened?”

By then, Michelangelo had set Angel back on her feet and then chewed nervously on his nail. “She knows!” he hissed, as if he were trying to keep it a secret from those who may be nearby.

“She...knows?” Raphael parroted, confused.

“That we're turtles.”

“Yeah, of course you're turtles,” she replied. She touched Michelangelo's arm and he visibly stiffened at her contact. “Clearly, these aren't costumes. I just think it's cool that you come out one night a year to hang out with people like this.”

“Uh...we actually come out a lot...just not...you know, street level,” Michelangelo replied.

“You mean you...” she pointed to the rooftops. “Is that where you live?”

“No, but it's how we usually get around.”

“Oooh! Like Batman!”

“Right! Yes! Like Batman!” Raphael agreed with excitement.

“Okay, okay, lets calm down,” Leonardo said. “This is a lot to take in all at once. You realized we weren't in costume and you didn't really say anything?”

Angel shrugged. “Hey, you guys were nice to me and you weren't trying to like get me alone in a dark alley or anything. Uh...except for right now. But you guys seem safe. What do I care what you look like? There's not many nice people in this city.

“I thought I would at least be meeting some fun strangers for a night and have the best Halloween. And maybe I would see you guys again, or maybe you were something magical that only happened on All Hallows Eve. Either way, it would be a good memory.”

She looked at the brothers who all had various bewildered looks on their faces. This person, she was someone special. Someone interesting. Someone who rolled with the weird and uncanny. Someone they could possibly make friends with. It had been years since they had dared to bring a new person into their world.

“So...what do you want to do now?” Donatello asked.

“I liked what we were doing,” Angel replied. “Let's keep hanging out. Eat good food, dance to music, talk to each other. And maybe I'll see you again after this?”

The brothers all looked at each other and smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Raphael agreed while Michelangelo nodded excitedly.

“If you're okay with the turtle thing, we're definitely hanging out again.” Michelangelo offered his arm and she took it.

They went back to the block party. They danced and joked. They enjoyed the music, the food, the costumes. The turtles were brighter now. Not so guarded, not so careful or suspicious of the people around them. It had been a long time since anyone new had appeared into their close circle of people they trusted. This was the first one who was their own age. She had seen them and accepted them on sight. This knowledge came with a bit of a happy high for the turtles. A burst of hope and joy at being discovered and immediately accepted without even a demand for an explanation.

And they wanted her to know. They wanted her to see their world. After this night of costumes, they planned to see her again, to show her and share what they were with her. It had been a good Halloween night.

“It's getting late and it's getting cold,” Leonardo eventually announced. “Angel, can we help you get home?”

“If you could walk me to my car?” she replied. “I parked a few blocks away.”

She nodded in the direction they needed to go and Leonardo hovered a hand over the small of her back to guide her.

“It's our pleasure.”

“You think your phone is in the car somewhere?” Michelangelo asked. “If you find it, we can trade numbers.”

“You guys have phones? Like normal phones?” she laughed.

“Of course,” Donatello said in a pragmatic tone. “Why wouldn't we?”

“Oh uh...I guess you could get phones if you really wanted them. Sorry, my bad. I guess you guys feel more magical than practical to me. Like you'll just poof away at the stroke of midnight. Knowing you have phones makes you feel a little more real.”

“Oh, we're real, Angel,” Raphael said with a flirty smile.

“And we'll be your friends if you want us to be,” Leonardo said softly. “We don't have many of those.”

“Neither do I,” Angel replied with the same soft tone. “I would really like that a lot.” They walked a few more feet and she pointed to the last building on the block. “My car is just around this corner.”

As they turned the corner, the turtles jumped back at the sudden red and blue flashing lights. Several police cars and one ambulance were clustered around the accident site of a two-car collision.

“Shit, Angel, I don't think we can walk you all the way to your car. But you should be hella safe with all the—” Michelangelo turned to the woman who had been standing right next to her. But in a blink, she was no longer there. “Angel?” He looked around, then looked at his brothers. “Dude, where'd she go?”

“She was...just right there,” Donatello said in confusion.

Leonardo peered around the corner to see if she had gone on ahead while Raphael looked behind them.

“I don't think she bailed. Where is she?”

Pressed to the side of the building, Leonardo audibly gasped. “I think...I see her.”

The others huddled around him to see what he was looking at. Out of one of the smoking cars, paramedics carried a female body dressed all in white, complete with halo and feathery white wings. White that was marred with smatterings of dark red blood. The body was set on a stretcher where the entire form was covered in a white sheet. No further first aid was administered to costumed angel as she was wheeled to the ambulance. That could only mean one thing.

“What? That...no, that can't...” Michelangelo struggled. “She was here with us all night. I touched her. I fucking picked her up in my arms!”

In his ear, he heard Donatello's ragged breathing, as if he were about to have a panic attack.

“Hey!” A police officer caught their shadows peering around the corner and they quickly ducked out of sight. When the human started toward their location, they quickly took to the rooftops in hopes of getting a better view. But by then, the body was already loaded into the ambulance to be taken away and Angel was nowhere else to be found.

***************

Her death didn't even make the news. What was one collision with a drunk driver with all the other crazy stuff that happened in New York on Halloween? And the turtles were never quite sure what happened that night; what they truly witnessed.

Only a few days into November, they all stopped talking about it. Tried to pretend it didn't happen. And it worked for most of the year. But then...October rolled around again. And as Halloween drew closer, the brothers didn't generate their usual excitement for their one holiday a year when they could go out on the street among the citizens. They still didn't talk about it. And when the night came, there was a certain unspoken trepidation in the air.

“You're not going out tonight?” Splinter asked them as they all brooded in the living room.

“Thinking about it, but...” Raphael trailed off.

“It just feels...weird,” Michelangelo added.

The other two brothers didn't say anything, but they seemed to agree with the sentiment.

“It is a shame your friend passed away after you had only known her for a while,” Splinter said. “But I don't think she would have liked that her memory tainted this holiday for you. You should be thankful you were able to have that time with her before she was gone.”

There was an uncomfortable silence from the turtles. As much as they tried to explain, Splinter never quite understood what they experienced. In his mind, they had met their friend during the party and then she had died in an accident on the way home after. All attempts to explain to the contrary resulted in failure.

“What if you went out just for a while to pay your respects? Perhaps find some closure,” Splinter then offered.

The brothers perked up a little and looked at each other. Something about that felt right.

**********

They went to the site of the crash, a year ago that day. They thought maybe anyone else might be there. Someone who missed her. Someone who felt the loss of her. Humans left flowers at sites like these on an anniversary like this, right? But there was nothing there. A year later, no evidence that the incident ever happened. The only proof that a life was lost here was that several of the road's street lights had been fixed. The collision had been largely blamed on most of the street lights being in disrepair at the time, even though one of the drivers had been drunk.

The turtles stood beside the street, out of the direct glow of the repaired street lights.

“So...do we say something or...?” Donatello asked softly.

“I dunno, we hardly knew her,” Raphael responded.

“Say something if you feel like it,” Leonardo offered.

They were all quiet for a moment, then Michelangelo spoke. “Well, Dudette, you seemed to be a super awesome chick. Too bad we didn't get a chance to see how awesome you really were.”

“A true tragedy,” Donatello agreed.

They stood for a while more and then turned to leave. The music and noise from the block party near by reached them before they could remove the nearest manhole cover.

“You guys wanna pick up some food before we head home?” Michelangelo suggested. “Grab something for Splinter too? See a few costumes, listen to some music before we go?”

The season called to them. It always did. The one festival a year about darkness and masked faces. Spooky fun and all sorts of delicious food. They had to be a part of it, just for a while.

The brothers split up, aiming for their favorite vendors. It wasn't like the year before, where they had a human friend hanging out with them, making them look normal. Now it was back to sticking to the shadows. Darting in and out to get what they were after and then sneaking back to the allies so no one stared at them for too long, lest they be figured out.

Michelangelo meant to grab some caramel apples for himself and one for Splinter, but the music and the atmosphere of the party caught his attention. He still wished to be in the middle of it. Talking with people, laughing, feeling like one of them. Even on this day of magic, he could only exist on the outskirts.

And then...something caught his eye. A woman dressed all in white. A little glittery halo and white, feathery wings. His breath caught in his chest. She turned, as if sensing his eyes on her. Angel looked right at him and smiled.

Happy Halloween

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @akesdraws-blog @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops @beautifulfunanchor @asultrysiren @thepinkpanther83 @yorshie @yamanekomono @androidships007 @raphsmuneca @igotlostinthesewers @silversunskyless

[snonkerdoodlewritesstuff]

Hey.

I'm not gonna ask how you are, because I know how you are. At least, I think I do. I don't know if I want myself to be true.

When you...left...I'm not sure whether left is the right word, actually. The horror of what happened...the horror of what you did to me...is something that can't be described with words. My soul was ripped apart. My heart shattered into a million pieces. My soul was wounded. My life ended when you went away from me.

And...even after all of that...I hope you're okay, my love. I really do. You...I don't think you could help it. If only we talked to each other. If only we worked things out before IT happened...maybe this wouldn't've been such a bad thing.

At any rate, I want to tell you something. Something that I never told you before, and now definitely won't ever get the chance to.

I loved you. When you would smile the way you did in the sun and we would sneak off together to do things we should'nt've been doing, I loved you. When you would marvel at little things like flowers and hummingbirds and nightingales, I loved you. I've always loved you, from the moment I met you.

I love you. I love you, even now that you're gone, even now that I'm nothing but a pile of broken pieces and memories. I love you, even though they all dragged you away from me, so that I could never embrace you again, and never have the chance to call you mind. Even after all that, I still love you.

I will always love you. Even though I'll never see you again--not for a long while, at the least--I will always love you. There doesn't seem to be anybody else for me, because my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you. It's always you, my love. Always you...

And lastly, I will miss you. I will miss the way you were a fucking diva all the time. I'll miss the way you were so rude to anyone who crossed you. I'll miss your smiles, the way you saw the world, the way...the way you looked when you were happy, or sad, or anything really. You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart.

This letter can be read from 3 perspectives:

Crowley to Aziraphale after Good Omens season 2.

John Watson to Sherlock Holmes after Sherlock season 2. 🧐

Blade Ranger to Nick Loopin' Lopez after the crash.

There are 3 more lines to add as well for each:

He let out a sigh laden with a thousand years' worth of exhaustion and

took a look around the bookshop--his bookshop now, that Aziraphale had found it in him to abandon it. He didn't know why he stayed, given the pain it caused him, but leaving would somehow make it worse. Sinking low into the cushions of the couch, he took a swig from his bottle.

sank back into the chair, facing the other one that should've been filled with a lanky man and his stupid curly hair and stupid angelic face. His vision blurred in and out of focus from the lack of sleep--he knew that if he gave in now he would only wake up to the words, "Goodbye, John" ringing in his ears.

sank low onto his landing gear, staring at the picture of his one-- and it seemed only--love. It didn't matter how many years it had been since the accident; a part Blade was and would always belong to Nick. Looking around at the scene of the base, he headed back to his cliff, parking a little ways from the edge to keep watch over the park for lightning storms. He fought fires now. He saved lives for real. After all, that's all he could do at this point, wasn't it?

So sorry if the ending seems rushed on any of them but constructive criticism would be appreciated! Thank you for reading this!

[ladyaislinn-purewhite]

Happy Birthday, Mr. Walken! Age is just a number..

“The interesting thing about my career is that I was part of something that doesn’t exist anymore, the early days of television after the second World War, when television was getting born, in the late ’40s and early ’50s.” Those were the days. “In a whole neighborhood of people, you had one TV set, and everybody would go to the guy’s house to watch his TV. There were no videotapes, so if you didn’t see Uncle Miltie on a particular night, you missed it. It wasn’t like you could watch it again. At that time in television, everything was kind of one-off. In New York, there were 90 live shows from New York every week. They used a lot of kids, and I was there for that. And that certainly doesn’t exist anymore.” Link

I always felt that there is some strange dance going on, kind of a tandem thing between what's funny and what's scary. They are almost like siblings. It's interesting that funny and scary seem somehow to be related (CW)

PLAYBOY: Are you always Ronnie to your friends and family?  WALKEN:: Oh yeah. My wife, people who knew me as a kid, sure. Anybody who met me after I was 25 calls me Chris. I asked my agent if I could change my billing to Chris Walken. It's what everybody calls me, and it takes up less space. It's easier to say. But people don't like change. Producers say, "If I paid for the full name, I'm getting the full name." Why can't I go to Chris? I wish Playboy would use Chris.  PLAYBOY: OK, Chris, are you concerned about your roles as a bad guy capable of killing children, friends or co-workers? You have said you tend to play mostly villains and twisted people because of the way you look. Do you think you look evil? Is there a concern that you might become a parody of yourself?  WALKEN:: You know what I think it is? I've been in show business since I was three, and it has left its mark on me. I come from the planet Show Business, not Hollywood -- I didn't know anything about that until I got older. But I came out of show business: The way I talk, the way I think, the way I look -- those things make me good for certain kinds of parts, somebody from the outside, from the border. When I was young I never knew anybody who wasn't in show business.

Walken speaks like a man keeping time to a metronome with a wicked sense of humor. The fickle cadence of Walkenese is his calling card. 'I get that from my days as a dancer,' Walken says. 'I'm still counting off dance steps as I cross a room. Two-two four. Three-three four. I'm doing that when I talk."

"Walken can embody pure, scary evil better than just about anybody.." (LA Times)   "If there is such a thing as menacing vulnerability, Walken has personified it. He understands scary-funny better than anyone." (Film Comment)

ESQIRE: An idea of “Christopher Walken” exists in popular culture: your name is used in song lyrics and film titles and sketches. Are you aware of it? CW: I’m aware of certain things, people doing imitations, for instance. Often when people do that to me, I’m not sure right away what they’re doing. I have a friend who does me on his answering machine so when I call him I’m basically hearing myself.

CW: I am not silent at all. I talk like crazy. But if I don`t know somebody I am very silent. Because I`m watching them--watching and listening...

When asked what he thought was the sum total of his work, Chris replied, "Oh, I have an answer for that. It is what Don Quixote said. I hope to add some measure of grace ."

"I don`t mind being a little bit out of control. (..) Acting ist the only profession where your problems are an asset. That`s why I can`t understand whyactors go to psychiatrists. Who would want to get rid of their problems? Who would want to get better?" (CW) 

[werezmastarbucks]

golden

april june masterlist 5/18

word count: 2128

music: creepin' by weeknd

and i've got nothing else to remember you by

"You're stuck with me forever, you know that?"

Taehyung tried to pull Jungkook away, but he hung onto you, his smile expecting for you to actually reply.

"Yeah", you beamed. "I'm not mad about it".

He let himself be dragged towards the karaoke machine, and you took a few steps back, knowing that the yelling that would ensue now should be avoided.

Ever since you realized your own humanness and mortality, you always knew you wanted more. You couldn't settle for the good. The good life, the good guy, the good job. You craved for the unattainable dream, and that's how you lost the only normal person from your life. The first husband, married young, decision made in one day spontaneously, in the countryside, got lost as soon as you started feeling that the life was too simplistic for you. You were creative. You wrote books, getting into insane writing fits that restricted you from eating and washing. From seeing people and communicating with your whats-his-name husband. The marriage lasted nine months and he was off. You wanted to travel, wanted to get a pet, wanted him to get into books you loved, wanted him to live. He wanted to settle at twenty-two and watch TV.

Then, years later, you met Jungkook. And he was finally the person you could sincerely be proud of, who you could even look up to, despite him being two years younger than you. He was alive, he wasn't just existing. He was as creative as you, and even more. He was proactive about this current life, tuned to people around him, he was passionate about his job, his hobbies, his brothers, and you. And he was painfully handsome: his gleaming eyes and open, childish smile just turned into the straw that broke the camel's back. He could use his good features to produce something on the outside. He had the capibility to admire others while being ridiculously gifted. You couldn't not love him; that's all formalities, but from the very beginning, you loved him, and skipped the period of butterflies tearing your stomach open. It was so reassuringly definite, you loved him. Like you met him twenty years ago. Like you were always married. He was drama-free; he wasn't capable of that. Jungkook was the summer of your life, a neverending summer. He sang in karaoke, hopping on the same spot, and you knew it only charged him more. He was the broken battery, never running out of charge. Only more. He said, you gave him energy. How, if you didn't have enough even for yourself. He didn't seem mortal.

Jungkook started noticing something strange after the first leg of his tour. You and Yoongi, leaning together over the water jar, although you didn't need to stand that close to each other. From time to time you two seemed joined at the hip; he never thought much about it. On that random night it clicked in his brain: maybe he should have? Maybe he should have been concerned all this time, seeing that Yoongi prefers your company over anybody else's in the world?

He found comfort in knowing that with his hyung, you will always be looked after. He giggled about it to himself: Yoongi hyung will run over anybody who comes close to you. The only one Yoongi let get close to you, was him, Jungkook. He found it amusing. Ah, you take such good care of my favorite, hyung. He thought it was Yoongi showing his love for him, always. He never had, even in the back of his mind, a thought that it wasn't right. Nobody thought that. Namjoon never took him to the side to say, hey, don't you think Yoongi is overly protective of Y/N? It was normal. Yoongi fought like an animal for people he loved.

Seemingly nothing changed, but now he looked at that water jar and thought, that's weird. She is my wife. I do not need him to tilt his head like that when he's listening to her. I don't need her to notice how notoriously good-looking hyung is. Me? I'm just a bunny. I am trying, but I am the summer boy. He, a full man.

He noticed it in the lingering glances you left for each other, in understanding you had with Yoongi even when you were safely hidden away behind Jungkook's arms. In the familiarity with which you discussed his music: yes, Yoongi is obsessing with snares this month.

He did three more songs with Tae, always looking behind his shoulder.

In between the second and third one, he heard Yoongi's voice from the back:

"I need a coffee".

And suddenly Jungkook remembered.

All he could do, as he set off for the second leg of tour (and you begged him, nagged and whined to kiss you again, to hug you again), was to hope he was wrong. Sometimes he forgot you've only been in his life for three and a half years. Because of how harmonious you looked next to Yoongi. Like he managed to travel back in time and steal you before.

It's gone on for almost a year.

When you're sitting on a pile of gold, and this gold is, in fact, the career, the family you have built, you get hesitant to sway.

Jungkook was watching his fear progressing: Yoongi with his arm around your shoulder, telling you the funniest thing you've heard that day. He couldn't do that. Jungkook could only laugh at your jokes and hold you at night, praying. You always came back home, eyes shiny as you saw him, throwing yourself in his arms. The fact that you weren't growing distant, weren't stealing looks when you were all together, the fact that Yoongi was calm and cool as usual, consoled him. He was feeling bipolar.

Your hand ran through his hair, and he opened his eyes.

"June", you said. The melody of this word sounded so good to him. "What's up?"

He smiled tightly, like he always did with excitement,

"I am not sleeping enough".

"Of course", you agreed, "what time did you fall asleep last night?"

"Three hours ago?"

No matter what Jungkook did, no matter how good he was, and what poses he tried, no matter how much he exhausted himself, he rarely made you come. You never reproached him, your simplicity about it burying his concerns. But it just usually turned into something that should've been much shorter. The lovemaking turned nights into years, you two tenderly spinning together, laughing, playfully scolding each other. His problem was that he was a perfectionist, and often wouldn't let you go until you finally orgasmed.

You couldn't resist him, it seemed. It was the biggest solace of his life. Should he look you in the eyes, you threw yourself onto his shoulders with a whine. Oh my cute boy, my favorite boy.

The morning was crisp, and nice. Acid-orange sunrise was crawling up the tall buildings outside. You cupped his face, tracing the features from forehead to his chin, as he chewed his breakfast.

"Stop staring at me, stalker", he chuckled, shoving the salmon into his mouth. Then he remembered,

"This girl with no pants started showing up again".

You laughed, entertained to no end at his and his band's suffering.

"There's so many of us, Jimin started stalling, and Mr Lee lost him, and she threw herself at him".

Hearing your laughter was instead of coffee. Feeling your fingers on his face as he was waking up was instead of ginger shots. Kissing your warm mouth as he was leaving was instead of morning exercise. You were his world.

He didn't feel betrayed when it dawned on him. It wasn't in his nature to be mad at people he adored that much. He got scared. He was afraid you'd slip through his fingers.

Jungkook was staring, eyes going dry, narrow straight line of light shining on you in Yoongi's arms. And it made perfect sense to him. And his mind became a lonely place. He saw hyung's hands holding you tightly, fingers curled, and the expression of peace on his face. And he fell through the missing step.

You noticed Jungkook started holding your hand more tightly, especially when Yoongi was around. His bunny eyes followed every move Yoongi produced. He called him hyung now with a new undertone of urgency. Always with a slight question. Twice bigger than Yoongi, Jungkook seemingly kept forgetting the body he was living in lately. He felt smaller. And kept saying, hyung? And Yoongi kept looking up with his shark eyes and nod at him, like an emperor nods at his subjects, who did good. Jungkook always did good, and he was set on carrying on that way.

You noticed the lonely look in his eyes and tried to kiss it away, holding his head in your hands, not letting go until he'd start nagging like a baby.

"Do you love me?"

You frowned with confusion.

"I love you to the moon and back, June".

He urged for these words like for the steps which he needed to get somewhere. It was tilting, tilting, like the ship. The shadow was coming. You all felt it.

Yoongi pushed his cheek with his tongue until it hurt. The ring in his ear got caught up with the hair and tugged. He released it, irritated, and put his hand back on the keyboard. Hearing the steps behind the door, he looked at the time and thought. He wasn't expecting anybody and Y/N didn't walk like that. The door beeped with the code: the only person who punched the code so violently that the door shook, was Gookie.

Yoongi turned himself with his chair and stretched his back. That's good. Whatever the maknae came for, will distract him a little. The door opened, and he saw Jungkook, hood falling off his head that very second, his flustered, uncombed look screaming alarm. Yoongi understood everything immediately. Jungkook stared like that when he was ready to fight. Lips parted slightly, rings turned away from his mouth, eyes, absolutely wild. Yoongi was always impressed upon seeing the rabid Jungkook; he was almost unstoppable. Whether he was chasing a pap that cursed at Jin, or sore that he was tricked in a card game, he was dangerous and serious. Yoongi was ready.

"Hey, kkoma", he greeted him, unable to hide a smile. Jungkook was still keeping his insane look, silent, just blinking at him. Yoongi tilted his head.

"Close the door".

He watched with disappointment as Jungkook complied, and the fight started sliding off him. Something broke.

"Yoongi hyung", he said quietly, bowing his head.

"What's up with you Gookie?"

"You should stop calling me kid and baby, and such", he said. Yoongi raised his eyebrows, spinning in his chair.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I am not a child anymore", he said heavily.

Yoongi decided not to push him. It's not his job to console Jungkook - it's Y/N's. He was there to protect and teach him, although there was not much left to teach. Maybe even nothing, but Yoongi liked to hold on to those crumbles, as if it could keep Jungkook close for longer.

He watched the maknae unzip and take off his heavy hoody, glistening with the rain.

"Put it on the desk, please, not the couch".

Jungkook obeyed again, twisting his fists like they hurt.

"Yoongi", he called again, and Yoongi stood up to approach him. His hands lay on Jungkook's shoulders, for which he had to raise them a little.

"What is it about?"

Jungkook blinked. He drowned in his eyes the way Y/N did, probably. Yoongi's stare is just not easy to handle.

"Is it about Y/N?"

Her name finally triggered the fire inside of him. Jungkook raised his own hand and wrapped in in a hold around the rapper's neck. Like they were about to hug. He tensed his arm, slight breath escaping his lips. Yoongi watched his face, waiting. Jungkook moved his body closer and put his head on Yoongi's shoulder, the hold so tight that a less collected person would panic. He was pressing on Yoongi's shoulders with both hands, trying to crush him, and Yoongi didn't breathe, but didn't falter either.

It wasn't his job to console Jungkook and squeeze out whatever blocks he had in his brain. As he was finally released, Yoongi shook his head to let the oxygen into the brain again. The spot where Jungkook pressed with his fingers pulsated with pain.

"I want to record the first verse again. It's just not good enough", maknae said.

They were looking in each other's eyes, and everywhere in the small studio room, there was a shift. Jungkook is much better on the inside, Yoongi realized. He completely forgot how this boy is. He thinks it's all his fault. Y/N, at this realization, would completely collapse, she would try to wrap around him with her small body, legs crossed behind his back monkey style, covering his whole head with kisses. Yoongi's way of doing that was to smile at him with his gums visible,

"At one at night. Of course, let's do it, June. Go on".

He allowed himself to feel a little better.

[halimpark7]

If there was nothing wrong with my life. &

I got everything Ive ever wanted...

I still wouldn't want to leave my bed,

put on clothes,

be a productive member of society.

No matter what I did, it will still be a struggle.

'Ok, it's going to be a fun day (visualization of the one thing that makes the day worth it)

*internal energetic heave, as I swing my legs and tighten my abdomen, as I throw my body in a sitting position*

'get your fat ass up....'

Does that make me a brat? Maybe.

If I don't wake in the stillness of your arms, your gentle quiet 'I'm still sleeping' breathing, your beard scratching some part of my body, your skin comfortably or even saran wrapped uncomfortablely to mine.

The smell of you in the mornings. Your essence. The smell of you being comfortable on your pillows. The way you sleep.

Without you.

I don't want to function. I don't want to "get up". Bc I didn't really get to rest. You weren't next to me, I wasn't next to you.

That's probably bratty. But it's how I feel.

I've always been this way.

Since grade school.

A book cuddled next to me, a queen size bed bought on discount, blood stains on my favorite thick comforter. One that's slightly cool to the touch. Never wanting to wake up and leave the warm spot my body heat generated.

And now.

Gravity, consciousness, alertness. Human doing. Money. Anxiety.

Without you, deadly sin Sloth was my only comfort. No one's beating me anymore. Physically forcing my adrenaline to rise, blood to pump. So I don't want to get up. I don't feel like it.

I don't want life without you. I don't want to wake up without you. Even when I'm struggling in a van next to a perfectly fine person, the struggle is the resistance I need to not be a lazy piece of shit. I have excuses. I can't be a productive member of society, I live in a van, my roommate needs a fully functioning person. I need to handle my problems without avoidance, today/now! so that my life moves.

Vanlife / My life is hard/ my depression is heavy.

~ blah blah blah. ~

But even if my life was perfect .

If there was nothing wrong with my life. & I got everything Ive ever wanted...

I still wouldn't want to leave my bed,

put on my clothes,

be a productive member of society....

And it's all your fault.

You are what I've been missing.

Where I've been visiting during the hours of 4-6am, when I go to sleep around 3:30a or even 7p.

You are my rest, my battery, my dopamine. My missing piece/ (peace).

And this is why I love you. You exist. You're everything. All the good parts of everybody whose abused me. All the sweet guy parts I initially fell in love with in every relationship. But I don't want to abuse you. Just annoy you to love me more. Be the only girl you fantasize about. Tell me that you drool with the idea of me. Smelling me, tasting me. Living life beside me.

I'm no good without you. I'm half a machine.

Just another zombie, minutes away from consuming, chewing, using, and abusing anybody for my emotional needs of the moment.

I'm a monster without you. Id rather be a nothing, than a something destined for hell. This way I atleast struggled through purgatory. Felt the feelings. Lived the full range of emotions. Waited for inspiration. Begged for you to love me. Paid back in suffering how much I've stolen self worth, confidence, kindness of those poor fools who loved fucking me.

I never understood my dad. After the years of using me, touching my body, squeezing my nipples, cupping my ass, fighting with me physically and verbally. He told me he never loved me....

And I think after Holly I understand. He was getting his emotional needs met.

Feeling someone else through me.

Jealous that I loved God more and that God loved me. He copied all the things I did in my performances. Years after I did it.

So I was Holly then, I am my father now....

You always cannibalize the person you're stealing from. And you never know it in the moment. The dangers of being a "leader". Cannibals.

Hillary should have been an actor. Her dramatic need for vengeance and theatrics would have been better received. . .

People would be less crazy if they weren't so scared of being 100% honest and vulnerable. It's way easier than having Holly scream at you where you suck, years before you can understand it.

[cartoonrival]

I've been on T for 3 years, and I've been indecisive all my life. I went in a whole lot of circles for months trying to make up my mind about whether I wanted to or not.

The process I went through was basically: I came out around Nov. 2020. thought that I would probably eventually want to start T based on watching other people's progress videos and started doing research about the effects. saw a therapist to try and be sure starting T was the right thing for me (therapist ended up being really shitty and thought that going on T would make me binary + not asexual, spoiler alert it did not). put it off another 5-6 months longer than I had intended to be sure shitty therapist wasn't influencing my decision. made up my mind not to start, because I was sure my extended family would cut me off. My thought process at the time was like, if could just be stuck on a desert island I would do it, if I could just live in isolation forever, then I would do it, but I couldn't handle the idea of explaining to anybody why I needed to. started breaking down crying a couple times a week at the idea of never getting to go on T. met a guy at a party who had just started T and I was so consumed with envy that I couldn't think about anything else the entire time. made an appointment with my informed consent clinic 1 month out to make sure I was sure, and then told my parents. They freaked out a little because they were convinced that going on T would make me bald and also dead (neither of those things has happened yet), and then they got over it, and the rest of my family ended up being fine. Finally started T in May 2021. One minor health issue since then (too many red blood cells), but zero regrets.

Sorry this is long. I think probably a lot of the indecision I went through might have been unnecessary, but the process of sorting through my own doubts about it was still really important. I don't know the situation you're in, but for me the most important thing to figure out was whether I was avoiding doing it because I didn't want the effects, or because I was worried about what other people would think. Also idk if i can include links but check out this piece by Daniel Lavery, it just perfectly captures the kind of justifications I was running through trying to talk myself out of starting https://thenewinquiry.com/the-stages-of-not-going-on-t/ I think indecision must be incredibly common and normal, if not universal.

thank you very much for this. i think i personally have a very hard time imagining myself in situations i’m not in or in a hypothetical future so like. i have no fucking idea what i would do if i started growing facial hair. there is genuinely no way for me to know if i want facial hair until i see myself irl with facial hair, for example. that’s i think where the core of my indecision comes from is i’m so wildly guessing about a future that does not exist yet and i cannot fathom what it would be like until i’m there. a lot of my transition has been like that but this is obviously the most significant decision i’ve confronted so far so the fact that i cant visualize it stresses me out more than usual. so like asking myself hypothetical questions doesn’t work because i truly don’t know, beyond the fact that i want a deeper voice. but what if i dont!!!!!! but at THAT point i’m definitely in the deserted island scenario where if i wasn’t around other people i would want it deeper. and that’s really the only outwardly obvious change that’s also permanent. so maybe i shouldn’t die wondering. cuz i was daydreaming abt it constantly for months then the day came to start and i got so scared suddenly and now for the past month it’s been causing me endless grief abt this thing that i want to do but also don’t want to do. but i can’t figure out what the reason for not wanting to is. if it’s fear or not wanting to. i’m rambling! thank you for answering <3

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Hey giraffe! Saw you reblogged the post about random asks to get to know you better, so I thought I’d ask ☺️ (if it’s too personal, I won’t be offended if you don’t want to answer): When did you realize you were ace/aro, and do you identify with any micro labels?

Thanks for asking! Not offensive at all!

First off, yeah, I do use microlabels. I'm sex-repulsed or apothisexual and romance-indifferent or icularomantic. That basically means I want absolutely nothing to do with sex and wouldn't touch it with a 39 and a half foot pole, but I'm chill with romance. I don't actively seek out a romantic relationship or anything, but I'm not upset or weirded out by the idea of being in a romantic relationship.

I realized I was ace and that I was aro sort of separately, and I don't think I really had a single "AHA!" moment for either.

The first time my orientation really even crossed my mind was my sophomore year of high school when a girl in my orchestra class pulled me aside randomly one day and asked what my sexuality was. I had never had a crush or any sort of feelings for anybody before, but I kind of just assumed it would come at some point. Before that moment, I would have just said I was straight, but something about how she asked the question made me pause and think about it. I eventually told her, "I don't know. I've never felt that way about anyone before."

It kind of went to the back of my mind until my junior year when I started watching Overly Sarcastic Productions on YouTube. One of the main content creators there, Red, is openly asexual. That was the first time I had ever heard the term or heard of someone else who'd never had those feelings, and I found I related to a lot of her experiences. I think, over the course of that year, I slowly started applying the "maybe I'm ace" mindset, and it really did fit. It felt right, and by my senior year, I was just like "yeah, I'm asexual."

The thing is, it wasn't really important enough for me at the time to go digging on everything that meant. I had a word to explain how I felt, and I didn't really feel the need for anything else at the time. It didn't help that my religion is queerphobic (I'm not. Most individuals I know are not, but the policies as a whole are, and it's a thing that drives us all crazy. You can find more information about it on the queerstake or tumblrstake tags). I lived in a very small rural town that was pretty much all that religion too, so between those two things, nobody really learned about queer stuff unless they were queer and went looking or had queer friends who talked about it. And since I wasn't super close with any other queer people at that point and didn't know much about the queer community in general, I wasn't really aware that aromanticism and asexuality were two separate things.

It wasn't until sometime in the summer after I graduated that I was made aware of the distinction. I didn't feel the outright repulsion to romance as I did sex, but I had also never felt romantic attraction and had no desire for a romantic relationship, so I wasn't really sure where I was with that. Like, I knew for sure I was ace, but I didn't know enough about the arospec to really know how I felt about identifying that way. So I adopted "grayromantic" for that period of time.

When I went to college, I suddenly met a LOT of queer people, and was online a lot more. This meant I had the opportunity to be in a community of aspecs for the first time, and I ended out finding a YouTube video that went over the intricacies over the arospec and some of it's microlabels. But I also wasn't out to anybody yet, so I felt like I could take my time coming up with a label that fit me better.

Finally, I got a roommate second semester who was bisexual and who I talked to a lot. Eventually, I had a conversation with her about my aromanticism, and she was like, "Honey, you've never had a fictional crush. You ARE aromantic." And I was like, "Huh. I guess you're right."

So I've been actively identifying as fully aroace for about 5 months now, which is also coincidentally when I started using Tumblr, but I actually just found my microlabels 10 days ago! I made a long rambling post (like I do) about how I experience love, and was given some suggestions by the lovely @aroacemagicstar! So all the thanks to them!

Again, thanks for asking me!

[br1ghtestlight]

Trick or treat! 👻🍭😈

"After all that, they STILL wouldn't give my dad a refund. Anyway, that's how my family ended up living on a fishing boat for three months in the Atlantic Ocean. It wasn't all bad, though. I still keep in touch with that fisherman," Teddy rambled to Bob as he wiped down the counter. Linda was out running errands and his kids were at school, so he didn't have anybody to help him escape from Teddy's non-stop conversation and stories. Bob loved his friend, but that handyman LOVED to talk. It was exhausting for somebody who was as introverted as Bob. Social interaction was hard for him, even with his close friends and family.

"Huh. Teddy, I don't think you've ever told me about your dad before," Bob said. "I've heard hundreds of stories about your mom, uh, but I've never heard you talk about your dad."

"Oh, well… He's dead, so—You know how it is," Teddy said awkwardly. "Don't want to tell people stories about a dead person. Brings the whole mood down."

Bob shrugged and focused his attention on Teddy. He knew what it felt like to lose a parent, and how uncomfortable talking about that could be with people who didn't understand. He ignored that and questioned Teddy further. "How old were you when he died? I was, uh, twelve when my mom died."

Teddy took a second to count out the years on his fingers before he answered. "I was thirty six years old, I think. Maybe thirty seven. He had a heart attack and was in the hospital for a few days… I didn't visit him, because we hadn't really talked for a few years. Didn't even know what happened until he was already dead. He and my mom were divorced, and I didn't keep up with his side of the family. I still don't."

"I'm sorry, Teddy," Bob said genuinely. Losing his mother was the hardest thing that he'd ever gone through, but he couldn't imagine how he would have coped if it happened so suddenly and when they weren't on good terms. Teddy's relationship with his father was obviously a lot more complicated than Bob's relationship with his mother, but losing a parent was never easy.

"Eh. It's alright. I didn't really get along with him, anyway. I mean, I WANTED to get along with him, but he didn't really seem to… like me," Teddy's expression darkened for a moment before he continued, as if he was remembering something from his childhood that he'd long forgotten. "I don't really think about him all that often, especially 'cause he's been dead for such a long time. He's more like a weird uncle from my childhood than, like, my actual dad. Does that make sense?"

Bob grunted in response and Teddy continued talking.

"I don't really miss him, I don't think. I mean, he was my dad and I'll always love 'em, but… He was so mean, Bobby. He was an alcoholic, y'know, and he treated my mom like crap. Me and Dana, too. It's hard to think about him without thinkin' about all the bad things that happened when I was a kid. Most of them were his fault. My therapist says that it's normal to feel resentful of my parents for what happened when I was a kid and how they treated us, but I don't know. Daddy issues. We all got 'em, right?"

Bob nodded. "My relationship with my dad is, uh, complicated. He's… a lot to be around, but he was also pretty much all of my childhood. At least you still have your mom around, and you have your sister."

"Dana is amazing, Bob. I should introduce you to her at some point. She's going back to college and studying to be a dental hygienist. Can you believe that? First person in our family to go college," Teddy perked up at the mention of his sister.

Bob had never met Dana, but he knew from the stories that Teddy told about her that he was very proud of everything his younger sister had accomplished in her life. Bob occasionally wondered what it would be like if he had a brother or sister, especially after seeing how close his own children were to each other. His father told him that they'd never planned on having another child after Bob was born, but he couldn't help but wonder if their decision had been influenced by his mother's worsening health.

"Yeah, it would be great to meet your sister," Bob agreed. "And, uh, if you ever feel like talking to me about your dad or telling stories about him—that's not a problem. I don't mind. I mean, I know what it's like to lose a parent."

*

"Yeah, but they're my only family. I gotta love 'em," Teddy sighed.

"I mean, that's not entirely true."

"Whaddya mean, Bobby?"

"We're kind of like your family too, aren't we? Me, Linda, the kids… You've always been a part of our family. You've been with us from the start."

*

"Hey! We could try setting our parents up on a date. Then we'd be best friends AND brothers! What do you say, Bobby?"

Bob grimaced. Ignoring the fact that Big Bob hadn't gone on a date since Lily died nor had he shown any interest in doing so, and Teddy's mother's obvious preference for dating younger men, he really didn't think he would want to be Teddy's brother. He was a good friend, but he was not sure about being related to him for the rest of his life. That didn't sound fun. "I don't know about that, Teddy."

"Yeah, you're probably right. You'd probably be a really annoying brother," Teddy agreed. "And I already HAVE a younger sibling! Don't need another of those."

[soypeople]

here for my montly Singular Post. this time its a thing i just submitted for a creative writing challenge. if my english teacher likes it enough she'll put it in a county-wide challenge and i might get to go to an awards ceremony 4 it which is kinda cool

hopefully i get picked because i want at least one win. i keep taking Ls this year istg

i dont know how to write romance (because i dont understand it) so bear with me

it is literally just a big metaphor for loving someone despite their flaws. do not flame me

ARACHNOPHORIA

I've had feelings for the girl in my grade, Penelope, for a while. She was a short, stocky girl with messy dark brown hair. She wasn't someone that the average person would find totally irresistible, but she was beautiful to me.

I always admired her artistry from afar. She was a quiet, but talented girl who seemed to hold kindness for everything she met. No matter if it was human, animal, or bug. I once saw her cry over stepping on a spider.

The other kids at school seemed to be creeped out by her, but I never was. I never understood everyone's disdain for her when she didn't seem to have any bad qualities.

We had become friends only a short while ago, though I felt closer to her than I had to anybody else. I hadn't known she felt the same way, but that was about to change.

"I… I think I like you… A lot." She told me as we sat outside together; it was during our lunch period. She was sipping a smoothie while I ate my pizza.

"I've been wanting to tell you the same thing for a while… I never knew how to say it." I said, surprised that she shared the feelings. I had always thought of myself as an average nobody, someone that girls wouldn't care for. Maybe I was wrong, or maybe Penelope just had really low standards?

"Do you wanna come to my place later? To hang out? I've never had a boyfriend over… Or friends… We could play that video game you like, the one with the aliens. I have it on my computer." She said quickly, stumbling over her words while actively avoiding my gaze. She took another sip of her smoothie as she hugged her knees to her chest.

"Sure," I answered.

Later that day, I walked down to her house. She didn't live that far away, only a mile or so from my own home. I had brought a gift for her, a necklace I had bought but never got to wear. I was sure she'd like it more than I did.

I got to the door and knocked. I was smiling like an idiot, still on a high that I had been asked out by my crush; it was every teenage boy's dream.

I tried to contain myself as Penelope opened the door. Her hair was wet, she must have showered before I got there. She had an unreadable expression on her face but gave me a small smile when she saw me standing there.

"C'mon, I have the game set up…" She said as she took my hand, leading me up the stairs and to her bedroom. The door was covered in many worn stickers, ones that had to have been there for years. 

Penelope sighed as I stepped into her room. All the blinds were shut, her curtains preventing light from entering the small space. She turned on the light before walking to stand in front of me, taking my hands in hers.

I briefly glanced at her computer on her desk, seeing the menu screen of my favorite game. I then looked back at her.

"Well… Now that you're kinda my boyfriend… need to show you something, because I want you to know who I really am…" Penelope said before backing up, letting go of my hands.

She started to change, morphing and transforming right in front of me. It was something I’d never seen before. Or maybe all girls were like this, I wasn’t fully sure.

Her face suddenly deformed, her rosy cheeks melting down into two large, clamping jaws. Fangs jutted out from the ends.

I backed up as this change occurred, surprised by it. My curiosity got the best of me despite my slight urge to run away. 

It wasn't only curiosity, but the fact I had to stay for her. This was who she was, apparently, I couldn't leave her. I loved her.

Her skin seemed to harden, layers of chitin forming over her body. Hair started to sprout from the chitin, covering her in coarse, dark brown fur. Her limbs started to become segmented, I counted eight segments in total on each limb.

Four extra, claw-ended limbs unfolded from her back, they were covered in chitin and fur just like the rest of her.

Lastly, six more eyes blinked open on her face. They were jet black and devoid of any pupils.

I stared in disbelief at the creature before me. I wasn't disgusted, and I wasn't terrified. This was a situation neither of us had expected.

"You aren't scared?" She asked. Her large, eight-iridescent eyes stared at me. I could see her fangs quivering, and her extra legs twitching and fidgeting as she awaited my answer.

"When I told you I liked Spiderman, this isn't what I had in mind." I joked, trying to ease both of our worries.

Penelope suddenly burst into tears, the tears starting to soak the coarse hairs that covered her face. I rushed to take her claws into my hands. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry. Let me… Um…" I stammered, fumbling for the box of tissues on her desk. I offered her a tissue.

I took the pair of claws back into my hands as she grabbed the tissue with one of her extra limbs. Instead of using it, she discarded it on the floor.

"No, no… You're fine… I'm just so happy that you… That you don't think I'm gross… I thought maybe you'd run away like my last boyfriend… He even moved schools and everything. I-I was so scared that you wouldn't like me anymore…" She sniffled.

"Why would I ever think that? I don't care if you're a spider-girl-thing, I don't care what you are at all. I like you. I know it's corny, but it's what's inside that matters to me." I said, getting closer to her.

She took the hand holding one step further, throwing all six of her free arms around me. They coiled around my body tightly as she cried into my chest. I hugged her back, smiling. We stayed like that for a while, quietly intertwined.

Her deep, black eyes still held the same beauty as before, her razor-sharp claws could still be as gentle as her soft hands had been.

I now knew what she was, but nothing had changed.