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#(and mind you I already got rid of SO MUCH crap)
theflyingfeeling · 6 hours
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how dare stores not sell the exact kind of products I'm looking for
#soooo as i have little to do these days i've started organising various places in my apartment#started with the bathroom cabinets. then the wardrobe#for the past days i've been organising this in-built closet in my bedroom#which i've used to store off-season clothes but also just all sorts of crap (lots of it is different kinds of papers)#however i've been wanting to make it just a closet for off-season clothes (and suitcases etc.)#because i fear all the paper i've been keeping there have been making the air in the closet sort of...musty ugh#but as i've taken out all the random crap and left just the off-season clothes i realise most of the stuff i've been keeping there...#...was all the random crap 🙃 which i have no place to put now 🙃#i mean i have one large cupboard in the kitchen above the fridge that's mostly empty but like that's not very convenient is it lol#some of this stuff i want to keep at hand so i managed to cram something into the tv stand drawers in the living room#but there's still soooooo much stuff that would require a whole another fucking closet#which i don't have!! and while i do have the space for one i want to keep my apartment kinda spacey#so i thought of buying a bench to put in the bedroom and store something in nice-looking boxes under it#and i could put idk a casual throw on the bench to hide the boxes under it and to make it look like a bit more ✨interior design✨ u know lol#but i just absolutely can't find a bench that's 1) the right colour & style 2) has one shelf underneath so the boxes won't be on the floor#i've been so close to having a sexy little meltdown about all this numerous times btw but i've been brave!! believe it or not#sooooooo i don't know what to doooooooooooo i have too much crap with no place to put them in#(and mind you I already got rid of SO MUCH crap)#also does anyone have any tips on where to store rolls of gift wrapping paper 🥱 length 70 cm#the only places out of sight where they fit are this off-season closet and the wardrobe but i don't!! want to!! put them there!!#but i also absolutely do want them out of sight as i use them about 1-3 times a year#i hate owning stuff so much ugh
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the-fiction-witch · 4 months
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Illusion
Media - Doctor Who (The Lodger Episode) Character - The Doctor (11th) Couple - The Doctor X Reader Reader - Y/n (Companion) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 2857
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The doctor bounced around his room, jumping on the bed, still getting accustomed to his room. He had been a lodger with the human Craig for about three days and was already losing his mind pretending to be a human. Of course, The Doctor wasn’t exactly the best at being a human, unsure of the human ways and habits. All the little things that wouldn’t make him look insane so was having to check in very regularly with his human companion back in the Tardis. 
"Honestly? As if being trapped here on Earth wasn't bad enough, I'm starting to think I've gone crazy having to listen to the neighbours screaming at each other for days on end over the most mundane of things!" he complained, "How about you? I'm going to assume that you're having a much better time back at the Tardis,"
"Welcome to humanity." she giggled, "Tardis is fine,"
He sat back up and stared at the walls around him for a good five seconds before letting out another groan, he felt like banging his head against the wall, "Y/n, do me a favour and start doing something useful, I desperately need something to keep me distracted or I'm going to start screaming,"
"Why not read a book?"
The Doctor let out a frustrated sigh before he rolled onto his back and groaned loudly. He glanced over at his small bookshelf before rolling over to the edge of his bed and grabbing the nearest book on it. "I've read all of these already, and nothing that came out since has held my interest!" He flipped through the pages of the book, 
"Write a book?" 
He slammed the book shut and threw it across the room in frustration, "I'm better at doing stuff, like exploring the universe!" The Doctor suddenly perked up as an idea popped into his head "Or, I could build something, or explore some of the buildings here in the city, anything with more action than sitting on my sofa staring at the walls all night because no one here is interesting!"
"Why don't you do the human thing, order a takeaway, drink a beer, and watch crap TV?"
"Absolutely not! I think I'd rather claw out my eyes then watch old reruns of the old Eastenders, and reality TV! Give me anything else that isn't that or Love Island for the love of all time!" He shuddered at the mere thought of having to watch shows like that... He absolutely hated the idea of it
She giggled, "Well... How about I put the Tardis into a safe orbit mode, and come down? Help to sell the illusion you’re really a human if you actually interact with someone, and I'll come to keep you company we can get some food in, and have a drink," she suggested "I get to show you the fun of a human evening,"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow as he thought about it for a moment. On one hand he really hated the idea of doing any of those things, but he supposed it was better than spending a night watching Love Island of all things so he begrudgingly gave in. "...Fine! I suppose I can suffer through an evening of acting like a regular human and all the pointless things they do at night like drinking alcohol and stuffing their faces with bad food."
"All right be there in five," she rang off,
The Doctor quickly got up from the edge of his bed and quickly started tidying up the small bedroom he had to make it look like an actual human lived there. He stuffed anything that would look odd and alien underneath the blankets. A book here and there along with just some general random stuff that would give away his secret. Just a couple of minutes later he had managed to get rid of most of the things before hearing a knock at the door,
The Doctor quickly rushed towards the door, reaching it just before Craig, He put on his best happy smile and quickly opened the door up. He was greeted by the sight of Y/n in front of him, looking every bit as ordinary as him.
Y/n smiles in her little blue dress and black tights one of her usual outfits giving the doctor a hug to help sell the illusion of two normal people who knew one another "Hey!" 
"Hey! Come on in then, I was starting to get bored to death in here without you,” He quickly returned the hug, though his focus wasn't on the hug... he couldn't stop staring at her outfit, especially at the tights she was wearing ...That definitely... made things harder considering how her outfit looked with every move she made. He quickly tried to shake the thoughts out of his head and just act casually.
"uhhh who is this?" Craig asked curiously, 
"Oh! Right, this is my... er..." The Doctor glanced over at Y/n for a moment before giving a smile, "Girlfriend! Yes, girlfriend. She's my girlfriend!"
"ohh..." Y/n blushed a little not expecting that to be his excuse, "Hi, Y/n" She introduced herself to Craig the two met and had a small chat about things as people do her normal human way giving the doctor's human persona a much better chance of being believable, 
"How on earth do you put with him?" Craig laughed,
"Ohh you know... I love him" she answered giving the doctor's cheek a kiss,
The Doctor couldn't help but blush a little bit as Y/n kissed his cheek, he was very surprised by how convincing she was at pretending they were actually a couple. The entire thought of her being that convincingly believable made him feel a slight fluttering in his stomach which for someone like him...was unusual. He continued to smile, though it was a little strained from how uncomfortable he was starting to feel being around two regular humans and having to pretend he was just like one of them.
Luckily Y/n knew he was feeling uncomfortable so managed to skirt them away towards his bedroom but Craig stopped the doctor before he could follow her
"Hey, uhh look no issues with you having your girlfriend over but you know maybe... Give me a heads up next time?"
The Doctor glanced over towards Y/n before looking back at Craig and nodding his head. "Oh yes, yes. Next time I'll make sure to mention that she'll be coming over, my apologies." He gave a small apologetic smile, but he secretly just wanted to get out of that conversation and spend time in the bedroom with Y/n.
"no problem, I'm heading off to the pub anyway so... You have fun" Craig winked,
The Doctor gave a small nod before immediately heading over towards the bedroom with Y/n. Once he was inside he let out a long sigh as he closed the door and leaned back against it. "Remind me never to do something like that again! Having to act normal for so long for people is hard."
She giggled "thanks?" She sounded fake offended sitting on the bed, 
"You know what I mean!" The Doctor rolled his eyes playfully at her as he walked further into the room. He went over to his bed and sat down by her, letting out another long sigh before glancing over at her "So, since this is supposed to be a 'normal human night'... What are we supposed to do first? Watch rubbish on TV or order food that will give us a heart attack?"
"rubbish TV, order food, drink beer, and make terrible decisions" she smiled 
He glanced over at her his eyes once again drawn to her outfit and those tights again. "I really don't understand human fashion..."
she chuckled, "What about it?"
"It just looks... uncomfortable. That's all. Just look at the tights you're wearing. You've got to squeeze into them like a sausage!" He looked her up and down for a moment with a small frown on his face while still having issues taking his eyes away from the tights.
"Thanks Doctor!" She said slightly more offended,
The Doctor immediately realized his mistake and shook his head immediately, reaching out gently to take her hands into his. "No, no, no! I didn't mean you! You look lovely, really! I just... I just don't understand how it's even comfortable to wear things like that. And it makes everything so much more difficult for me to focus..."
"you wear a suit and bowtie everyday doctor I'm not sure you can really comment on comfortable outfits besides I like my tights"
"... Fair point, though in my defence those outfits are very fashionable and comfortable! And your tights are... very distracting." He gave a small laugh but he couldn't take his eyes off the way hers were wrapped around her legs as she moved.
she chuckled "You rather I take them off?" She raised an eyebrow,
The Doctor's eyes widened slightly as his mind suddenly became far more empty as the words left her mouth. He stared at her for a moment or two before he mentally slapped himself and quickly shook his head. "... No! I... That's not at all what I meant! I just... they're... distracting! That's all!"
"you are spending too much time down here" she giggled leaning on his headboard "you're becoming a bit too human..."
The Doctor leaned back onto the headboard as he took a sip of the beer, still staring at her legs and those tights. At this point he was completely mesmerized by the way they looked against her skin. "What does that even mean?" The Doctor finally managed to tear his gaze away from her legs and looked over at her, forcing himself to focus on what she was saying for once.
"you’re become predictable. Like a human man."
A look of complete shock immediately took over the Doctor's face in response to her words. He suddenly looked genuinely offended as he looked over at her. "I am not predictable! Predictable? Me? I am the least predictable person you'll ever meet! There is nothing predictable about me at all!" He glared directly at her, not at all happy with how she had labelled him. He clearly did not like being thought of as predictable in the slightest.
"you are becoming predicable down here" she smiled "you’re slowing down... Acting more human"
The Doctor's expression softened after she said that, he went silent for a few seconds, the truth of what she was saying slowly sinking in. He leaned back against the headboard and took another sip of the beer before speaking again. "Maybe... Maybe you're right. Time Lords aren't exactly used to being human. I never wanted to be human... I never wanted to think like one, act like one..." He frowned for a moment before turning his gaze to look at her.
"well it won't be long just till you figure this thing out. Then you can come back to the Tardis and we can go off wherever you need to get back to, an unpredictable, madman with a box that I love so much" she cooed laying her head on his shoulder
A small, genuine smile appeared on his face as she laid against him. He gently put his arm around her and held her close, leaning against her with a happy sigh. "Once I'm myself again, the first thing I'm going to do is take us somewhere completely unexpected. I think it's a good time to finally show you Gallifrey." A look of deep contemplation appeared in his eyes as he looked down at her. He could practically feel his heart pounding.
"... Really?!" She sat up looking into his eyes "You... You would take me there? But you always said you've never taken any companions there?" 
"Yes... I... I will. I'm going to show you my home, I never said anything but now... I want you to see where I came from." He smiled gently, his gaze not leaving her.
Y/n trembled a little tears welling up in her eyes "But... You've had so long, so many other companions you could have taken and ... It's me? I get to go?"
The Doctor nodded his head without an ounce of hesitation in him. "You! Who else would I want to show Gallifrey other than you? You matter most to me." As he continued to look at her, he could see the tears starting and that immediately made him smile even more. "I'll show you everything I can... I'll show you how beautiful the orange skies of Gallifrey are. I'll show you the mountains and the rivers. Everything."
She hugged him tight squeezing him in her arms as she cried tears of joy "Thank you thank you thank you! I promise I'll be on my best behaviour, I'll listen to everything you say, I'll be good and follow all the rules and you can pick my outfit before we go just to make sure!" She began rambling,
The Doctor hugged her back just as tight, holding her securely and smiling happily as he did. He gently pulled her onto his lap and held her against him, rubbing her back as she let out all of her emotions on him. "I'll make sure you have the best experience you could ever imagine while we're there. I'll hold your hand the entire time, you won't even have a chance to misbehave."
she nodded excitedly "okay!"
He gently reached over and brushed a few of her tears away while resting his other hand on her thigh, gently and absentmindedly rubbing her leg a bit. He looked at her and had a small twinge of guilt come to him as he finally realized just how happy she was to share in such an intimate moment with him. 
she giggled looking down at his hand "I should wear tights more often" 
The Doctor immediately realized what he was doing and shook his head, instantly removing his hand with a flustered look on his face as he leaned back against the headboard. "No! No no, I... I need to get my brain under control. Focus on something else, anything..."
She giggled grabbing his hand and putting it back on her thigh"very common human thing, to watch TV and cuddle" she smiled nuzzling into his chest 
He groaned softly as she placed his hand back on her thigh. He wanted to argue against it, but he really didn't want to. He stared at her with a slightly pained frown as he once again started gently rubbing her leg. "Cuddling is a human thing, you're right." He paused for a moment pulling her thighs a little so she sat in his lap before continuing in a mumbled tone. "Though I think I'd rather watch you instead."
She giggled a little about to speak when the bedroom door suddenly opened and in a rush of sudden thought Y/n remembered they had to look like a human couple so immediately grabbed the doctor by the neck and pulled his lips to hers immediately starting a heavy make out as if they had been doing this for hours, He instinctively put his arms around her, wrapping them around her waist and kissing her back, his tongue gently sliding into her mouth. He didn't even react as Craig opened the door, too caught up in what he was doing.
Frankly, her already being in his bed and sitting on his lap was likely enough to sell the illusion already but the kiss was just the sugar on top, 
"Ohh uhh? Sorry for interrupting -" Craig began,
After a few moments of intense kissing, the Doctor pulled away from her for a moment to catch his breath. "Hello, Craig! What's up? Can't you see we're a little busy?" The Doctor quickly said before immediately pulling Y/n closer.
"Right yes sorry just uhh going out I'll be back later. I'll lock the door." Craig nodded a little awkward
"That's fine, no worries! Have fun, we'll probably still be here all night." He quickly went back to kissing her afterwards, gently biting down on her bottom lip.
Craig nodded and shut the bedroom door heading out to go to the pub, 
The Doctor was completely caught up in the kiss, completely focused on the taste of her lips, how good she felt sitting in his lap, how wonderful those tights were still looking... His mind was going a mile a minute while his hand gently and absentmindedly started going up her thigh before he even realized what he was doing.
She blushed hard and kissed back the kisses now turning into a hot and heavy make out her voice moaned into his mouth, his mind exploded from the sound alone. He suddenly couldn’t think about anything but her, completely focused on this new feeling that was overtaking him. He deepened the kiss in response, pulling her closer and running his hand slowly up her back before gently biting down onto her lower lip.
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housethemd · 8 months
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Come in from the Cold
House/Wilson established relationship
Written based on a prompt from @griffin-11
This wasn’t what I was expecting to write when I got the prompt, but it’s what happened!
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The bite of early January always sinks into his bones in a way he can’t shake. The trip from the car to the apartment takes twice as long as it does in other seasons, lest he slip on the icy ground. No amount of complaints to the building’s management about the state of the steps in the wintertime have any effect. They insist the stairs are perfectly passable, which may be true for the even footed but are treacherous to his uneven gait.
Snowflakes flutter to the ground, fluffy and large, adding the existing two feet of snow already on the ground. For a moment he remembers winters from a decade ago. When weather such as this would mean a trip to upstate New York, to a ski resort where he and Wilson would spend weekends on the slopes. Wilson skied, but he always prefered snowboarding. He liked the speed, the balance it required, the feeling of the wind burning his cheeks as he hurdled towards the bottom of the hill, the satisfaction he got from safely reaching the bottom of the difficult hills, having dodged trees and other obstacles the whole way down. But those days are long behind him now, and the memory stings almost as much as the cold.
Every second spent outside is painful, as even his long wool coat can’t protect the crater in his thigh from the sub-zero temperatures. A mess of missing muscle and over sensitive nerve endings, the cold burns bright hot. He limps heavily up the few stairs into the building, doing his best to strike a balance between speed, safety, and keeping pain to a minimum. When he finally breaches the threshold into 221 Baker Street he lets the door fall shut behind him, and leans on it heavily.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
He grips his thigh tightly, desperately trying to rub the stiff burning from what remains of his leg, as the mantra plays in his mind. Wilson always tried to get him to breathe through the pain. He always argued that it was new age bull crap, right up there with auras and chakras. Breathing wouldn’t regrow this missing muscle, breathing wouldn’t fix the damaged nerves, and breathing certainly wouldn’t get rid of the mangled mess of partially numb, partially hypersensitive scar tissue that marred his right thigh. Still, he tries. Wilson doesn’t know he tries when Wilson isn’t around, and he always gripes when Wilson makes him try, but he tries all the same because that’s what people in relationships do. They try.
When the breathing mumbo jumbo doesn’t work he reaches into his pocket to pull out his Vicodin bottle and dry swallow two of the white, chalky tablets. The bitter taste promises some relief, though he knows it will only do so much. His leg will take hours to warm up, and only then will the pain reduce to its usual daily level. He really hates Winter.
Sucking a breath through his teeth he limps slowly towards his door, pausing to pull out his keys he can hear the puttering sounds of Wilson moving about their now shared apartment. He was unsure about Wilson moving in, his one and only stint with cohabitation had been with Stacy, but had since found it was not completely terrible. It was nice not being alone all the time, and Wilson was probably the only person in the world he could stand to have around all the time, though he’d never say that out loud.
When he enters the apartment Wilson pops out from the kitchen, smiling fondly.
“Oh wipe that look off your face. You saw me three hours ago.” He scoffs, shucking his coat and letting it fall to the ground.
The apartment smells like Wilson’s cooking. The living room is tidy in a lived-in sort of way. Wilson is dressed in sweats and his McGil sweatshirt, but is barefoot. The entire scene is so warm and domestic it warms his heart and makes him nauseous in equal measure.
“What? A guy can’t look happy when a handsome man walks into his home?” Wilson asks, arms crossed.
“Sure he can. He just can’t look happy when an old, misanthropic, cripple walks into his home.” He shoots back.
“Oh right. I always confuse those two.” Wilson smiles, leaning on the door jam and throwing the dish towel he had been holding over his shoulder.
House managed to remove his shoe from his right foot, but as he shifts his weight onto his right leg and cane to remove his left he has to stop, a pained noise slipping unbidden past his lips as pain shoots through him. Wilson is beside him in an instant, one hand on his back and the other on his chest, ready to support his weight should he need it.
“Hey hey hey, what’s going on?” Wilson asked gently.
“Stupid cold weather. Cripples don’t do well in the cold.” He grumbled, not meeting Wilson’s eyes.
“Alright well let’s get you off your feet. You're inside now, so the pain should lessen up soon, yeah?” Wilson tried to encourage.
Wilson knew the cold bothered him, but House had never really been clear to what extent. He weighed his options now, agreeing that he would soon feel better and spend the rest of the evening trying to hide his pain or admitting that the cold made things worse than he’d let on. On the one hand he could keep a little bit of his dignity, but would likely end the evening fighting with Wilson over something stupid. On the other hand Wilson would enter full caring mode, and spend the evening doting on him, and that always gave him a weird feeling in the bit of his stomach.
“It… takes a while for my leg to warm up. Damaged blood vessels and nerves. I thought you were a doctor? Just, let me go to bed.” He grumbled, staring at the floor.
“Wouldn’t a hot bath help? Or at least a heating pad?” Wilson reached out to rub circles on his shoulder.
“No. Too much heat at once makes it worse, just let me go to bed, dammit!” He snapped, and it seemed that his honesty still resulted in a stupid fight.
Wilson said nothing, but supported his weight from the door to the bedroom. As soon as House was seated on the bed he turned and left. With a deep sigh House stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the blankets. He winced when he swung his right leg onto the mattress, pain shooting down into the rest of his leg. He closed his eyes, naming infectious diseases in alphabetical order in an attempt to distract himself to sleep. His leg was killing him and he had a pissed off boyfriend in the other room, sleep was truly his best option at this point.
He’s just starting to get through the B’s when the bed dips behind him.
Wilson has stripped down to his boxers as well, and is carrying what appears to be every blanket they own in his arms. He begins pulling them over the bed, over the lump of House’s body. Creating heavy layers that aren’t at all unpleasant.
“What are you doing?” House asked, trying to sound annoyed.
“Warming you up.” Wilson replied.
“Then why are you practically naked?”
Wilson just smiles, and as the last blanket is smoothed out over the bed he slides underneath them, curling his body around House’s. Wilson radiates warmth, and House can admit it’s nice, though it will be awhile before the heat sinks into his leg. He’s about to say as much when Wilson places one large, warm hand over the scar on his leg. The body temperature heat isn’t enough to aggravate the nerves, but is enough to soothe them. Wilson runs hotter than House, apparently just enough hotter that his body can provide a small amount of relief to his painful leg.
“How's that?” Wilson asked, breath tickling the hairs on the back of House’s neck.
“It’s fine. Weren’t you doing something when I got home?” House questioned, pretending not to enjoy having his boyfriend as his personal heater.
“Nothing that can’t wait. Nothing more important than this.”
House feels strangely choked up. He hates when Wilson does this to him. He shouldn’t be getting emotional over a cuddle session in bed, no matter how much it helps his pain. He opts to say nothing, but feels Wilson smile against his skin regardless.
“Go to sleep, House.”
The pressure of the blankets, the feeling of Wilson’s body against him, and the warmth of his hand radiating into his scarred thigh have his eyes feeling heavy. He slips into sleep with the sound of Wilson’s breathing as a lullaby.
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bennie-jerry · 6 months
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My Beef with Miguel O'Hara - A Spiderverse Rant
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If you've read the title of this, you already know who I'm gonna be crapping on.
I know some of y'all are gonna flame me in the comments, but I do not care. Now, if you’re willing to bring up counterpoints about a FICTIONAL topic in a respectful manner, I’ll listen no problem because I don't mind being wrong (and I actually HOPE I'm wrong about this since I WAS excited about watching Miguel in action because there was so much hype around him). But if you take me having beef with a fictional character as me having beef with YOU, then I politely ask you to spare your mental health and drink some hot chocolate under a blanket after you click away from this post, thank you. 
Now back to the topic.
Most of us Spider-Man fans have seen the movie, "Across the Spider-Verse" at some point (and if you haven't, what are you doing? Go watch it, it's on Netflix). Excluding everything that makes it a masterpiece aside, there's one character in the movie who really grinds my gears. Not in terms of how they’re written, but more so just how they are as a person in general. 
Miguel O'Freaking'Hara. 
I do not like Miguel. I feel pity for him, but I do not like him. I do like him as a character, though. I feel like he definitely adds to the story and makes it interesting. I genuinely feel like ATSV would’ve been really boring if he wasn’t part of it. But I do not like him as a person. 
Miguel doesn't JUST have a stick up his butt, he has the whole TREE.
I couldn't care less about the fact this dude looks like a handsome statue because of the stuff he was doing to Miles. I think y’all forgot that this dude THREW A TABLE AT A MINOR UPON FIRST MEETING HIM and then has the nerve to throw away the food Miles got for him like it's trash. If that’s already not a red flag, I don’t know what is.
I don’t care if it was just ‘frustration.’ Miguel's 27 years old, he should know better. Unless Miles was attacking him in the beginning (which he wasn’t), there’s no reason he should’ve done that. But oh…I have much more beef with this dude than just a table. 
I understand that his supposed role and whatnot in the Spiderverse is that he has to keep canon events going. He has to get rid of 'anomalies.’ Unfortunately, Miles Morales (from Earth-1610) is an anomaly because he was never supposed to be the Spider-Man of his universe. So, what does Miguel do? He tries to obliterate the guy.
…Ex–freaking-scuse me?
"Oh, but Miguel tried to talk to Miles about everything!" 
Yeah. And he did it in the worst way possible. Miguel had absolutely no empathy towards the whole situation, then has the gall to wonder why Miles is running off and not listening to him. No dip, Sherlock. I'm pretty sure if you harshly told any normal person that someone they loved deeply was going to die and that they couldn't save them without any hint of compassion, they'd go against what you said and try to find a way to save them, bro. 
Miguel's whole schmo is that Miles becoming Spider-Man was bad because it created Spot and Spot's creating a bunch of problems. As a result, Miguel also tells Miles that saving his dad is not allowed. Here's where I have a problem with that logic. If Miles being Spider-Man is an anomaly in the first place, why NOT save Jeff as a way to prevent more anomalies from HAPPENING? If anything, Miles losing his dad would've just been another canon event for him to continue BEING Spider-Man, even though he wasn't supposed to be. Legit, this dude’s logic irritates the pee out of me.
Miguel's approach to the problem is also hypocritical considering that he lost his own wife and daughter in the universe he belonged to, then invaded ANOTHER UNIVERSE he didn't belong to, which honestly in my opinion makes Miguel look even worse to me. I'm willing to bet that Miguel’s alternate daughter could’ve been that universe’s spider hero, but because THIS vampire edge lord stepped into a universe that was NOT his, it prevented the canon event of the classic “Dead Guardian trope,” leading to that universe’s evaporation.
Another thing that irks me about the whole thing is that MILES IS LIKE 15-16 YEARS OLD. So as far as I'm concerned, O'Hara is trying to eliminate a KID. Even though he knows what it's like to lose a KID. No wonder the multiverse prevented him from being a father—he’s violent, unstable, and completely short-sighted. He’s out here chokeslamming a teenager and calling THEM the mistake. Just because you went through grief and trauma with your own children, it isn't an excuse to take the breath of another child. 
(Y'know, considering the events of Multiverse of Madness, I'm kinda seeing a pattern here--)
Miguel, for some reason, refuses to have a smidge of sensitivity for what Miles is going through. Heck, even Gwen and Peter Parker had more empathy for Miles despite them not telling him he wasn't supposed to be Spider-Man because they actually cared about his feelings TO SOME DEGREE.
I hate Miguel’s whole “You’re a mistake!” speech because Miles didn't create the spider. Miles didn't summon the spider. Miles didn’t choose to get bit. He didn’t find it on his own terms. Miles didn't choose to create Spot—the one who’s actually causing them problems. Someone ELSE brought the spider there. Someone ELSE took away a universe’s Spider-Man. Miles is just trying to deal with what he’s been given. So if Miguel wants to go after ANYONE for ‘anomalies’ in terms of Miles’ universe, he needs to track down the person who put something where it didn’t belong.
For crying out loud, he told the boy that HE was a mistake. It’d be one thing if he said “You being Spider-Man was a mistake” or something. But no. He says that Miles IS the mistake.
During that whole speech, it sounds like Miguel is trying to tell Miles that everything is HIS fault as if Miles had a choice in being bit. As if Miles even had a choice in the fact that a radioactive spider from an alternate universe chose to bite him. 
There were so many other ways Miguel could've handled the issue and he didn’t do that. I don’t care what his so-called intentions could/would be because it really put a disgusting taste in my mouth. 
I still have no respect for the fact that he hypocritically and previously invaded another reality where he was dead so he could be with his family--and here's what I mean by that.
Yes, I understand--Miguel's life on his original earth was freaking sad. He lost his wife and daughter. That's obviously a very tragic thing to go through. But it’s the fact that he's cracking down on Miles so badly despite Miguel LITERALLY being the one to pull a Kingpin vexes me. Miles had ALWAYS belonged to his universe. Miguel’s only in the dump he’s in because he was trespassing.
Don't get me wrong, I feel pity but I absolutely cannot stand the audacity of this man to go after a kid who got bit IN HIS OWN UNIVERSE even though Miguel was the one who contributed to some multiversal disaster in the Spider-verse. You could try to say, "Oh, it's because he doesn't want to make the same mistake again and shatter the Spider-verse or something!" While I could understand that, it’s still not a good reason for Miguel to do and say the stuff he did. I thought at the bare minimum, he'd be at least able to RELATE to Miles considering that he also lost people he cared about.
End conclusion: 
Miguel is vexing to me–but I don’t hate the way he’s written. If anything, I think if he wasn’t written this way, the ASTV movie would be very different. Whether that’d be for the better or the worse, I’m willing to bet most of this storyline wouldn’t even exist were Miguel not like this. So even though Miguel absolutely grinds my gears with his mindset and who he is as a character—I’m not mad at his writers. And I honestly feel like that’s just a showmanship of how great the writing for the Spider-Verse movies is. Good writing is when you’re mad at characters for the decisions THEY make, and not at the WRITERS for having them make those decisions. 
I’m out.
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Keep in mind for this, I'm audhd and trans/nonbinary.
So a really close friend of mine for years broke off contact with me because we kept getting into "arguments" about my being trans, and anything trans related really.
Basically, I came out to her as enby when was still on the fence about how I wanted to be addressed and everything. Still getting rid of a lot of Catholic/Christian-taught internal conflicts before really being able to figure stuff out. And she was fine with it! Hesitant on the pronouns and stuff, but from her response, it seemed (at the time) like she was okay with me being me. Even after changing my name.
Until I actually started transitioning. Physically, that is. Then she just started ignoring the topic completely and kept jumping over anything going on in my life if it had to do with trans stuff. When I called her out on it, she said it made her feel uncomfortable, so I did my best to reign it back for a while.
But the longer time went on, the more frustrated I got. She's extremely religious and I'm not much anymore (and never really was that devout to begin with), but any conversation on "hey, please don't try to keep converting me" or "can we not talk about this thing that makes all trans people look like monsters (even though you say you don't mean me when you share this stuff)" went ignored or unheard.
Eventually it was forced on me (by her, in her own words) to be friends anymore or not. I was given an ultimatum not to be trans or we "probably should stop talking to each other because we keep arguing about it".
I've talked about it with my friends that I still have, as well as my family, who know the two of us, and everyone has been in agreement that she's been the one in the wrong.
But I still feel guilty? Like, I never like crossing boundaries and don't want to make anyone uncomfortable because I know from my own experience that it's crap. It's just.... It's not like I could stop bringing up trans stuff? Especially when she would share misinformation about it and I'd have to correct her. Or like, I'd share a post about my life because I'm proud of who I am. Or she'd ask "how are you" and it would just come up organically because it's been a big effect on my life.
I dunno. Everyone tells me I'm not the one in the wrong, but I feel like I was? In part? It still confuses me, to be honest, and it's been some years now. We've only talked once since and it was the same ultimatum before she cut me off herself after I said I already had transitioned since we last talked, so at least the burden wasn't put on me again to choose.
What are these acronyms?
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gallavichpreg · 1 month
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🟠 O4: Can’t Keep Anything Down All Day
   Ian stood nervously outside the bathroom door, listening to Mickey's sickly coughs and groans from within. "Happening again?" He sighed, completely exasperated as he watched his husband struggle on the toilet, for what seemed like the hundredth time that afternoon. "This is ridiculous, babe. I'm telling you... something's wrong. Really wrong..."
For seven days straight, Mickey had been sick — constantly running to the porcelain bowl to hawk up his guts, and defecating nothing but liquid waste. It felt as though it'd been ages since his stomach last settled... since he'd been able to eat something without spewing acid, bile, and crap from both ends of his digestive tract shortly thereafter. He just couldn't keep anything down. Ian was already worried about him, when the severity of his illness became apparent... but, after so many days without any improvement, he was starting to get scared.
   The pale look of his skin, red circles and bags underneath his eyes, sweat-slicked hair that clung to his forehead, and the stench of his excrement heavy in the air... the scene was so ghastly. Had he not been sitting upright, and making noise, Mickey would've been no different from a corpse.
"Agh, fuck!" He groaned, choking the final chunks of his half-digested dinner up from his throat and into a plastic bag. "I'm so tired of this shit, Ian! I swear!" His abdominal muscles finally beginning to relax, and his legs completely asleep, he continued to sit there, trapped inside of his own skin. "This stomach bug is killing me."
The poor guy hadn't been so sick in years; he hardly ever got sick. Being a Milkovich, Mickey spent his entire life just toughing it out whenever he wasn't feeling his best. There were no doctors, or medicine, or any kisses from Mom and Dad to make it better. He relied on nothing but sheer willpower to get him through — "the way that people used to do things, before they started trusting the government, and got weak" — believing that his suffering would make him stronger in the end. His immune system had already been put through the ringer... so, a long-staying stomach bug was nothing to him. Even still, Ian couldn't help but to fear for the worst.
"...Which is why we need to go to the clinic, babe." Ian asserted, trying once again to convince him to seek help. "Get you something to make you feel better, and get rid of this thing. Those doctors can help you, Mick." A grave look in his eyes, he leaned against the doorframe, like some kind of bathroom guardian, desperate for Mickey to give in and comply with his wishes. There were so many ways that Ian could influence him... so many things that he could get Mickey to do... but he could never convince him to seek out any medical advice. Mickey and doctors were like oil and water... they just didn't mix.
"I don't want to go to the fuckin' clinic, Ian." He answered, his voice shrinking, in spite of his adamant refusal. "I'll be fine with some rest. I'll go to sleep, wake up tomorrow, and be fine. Shit like this don't last too long. Trust me, I know."
A brief moment of silence fell between them... Mickey's mind racing with memories from his childhood.
   That time that he caught the flu from one of the girls in his middle school class, and couldn't get out of bed for a week. He begged and begged his parents for help... to drag him down to the local doctor... but they refused, grumbling about the cost of a consultation. His body was in so much pain, he could hardly move... so he didn't eat for days, and couldn't get up to use the restroom. He lost so much weight that, by the time he finally got over the virus, he looked like a living skeleton... nothing but flesh and bone. His bedsheets were so filthy that they clung to his butt and thighs like used tissue, crusted over, and stunk as bad as an un-flushed public toilet.
   It was a nightmare to go through something like that at such a young age... but, despite the horrible trauma, he never caught the flu again.
"By Sunday, I'll be back to normal. Watch."
"Mickey, please. You've been feeling terrible for days now. The doctors at the clinic can help you get better." Ian sighed, worry bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Feeling like a broken record, playing back the same verse again and again, he rested his forehead against the wooden doorframe, trying to think of a way to persuade his husband into getting the help that he needed. It didn't take long for an idea to strike him. "Okay, how about this?" He began, his tone softening. "If you go to the clinic with me, and let them check you out... we can stop by that little ice cream shop on the way back home, and get a few scoops of that one flavor you've been talking my head off about... the one with the chocolate chunks and caramel. How's that sound? We got a deal?"
"Deal," Mickey muttered, promptly giving in, and accepting his defeat. "But only because I'be been craving it so bad. Asshole. As soon as I get off this toilet, we're leaving. I'm getting my ice cream."
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mikhailwrites · 9 months
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Waiting for Connection 6 / Ghost x Soap NerdAU
Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...
Previous chapter | AO3
The London Underground during the rush hour is a particular kind of hell. Strangers squeeze together, trying their best not to step on each other’s feet or even look someone in the eye. Usually, they would stare at their cell phones, even if they had nothing to check or read, really. Ghost closes his eyes and tries to breathe through the discomfort and anxiety. It’s just a few stops, but it takes forever. Especially as more people pour in, a message repeated the thousandth time is broadcasted about minding the gap, followed by a “See something, say something” announcement. If he hears it one more time, Ghost swears, he will smash the speakers.
Should’ve taken the cab. If only it weren’t so bloody expensive. Just because Ghost has the money doesn’t mean he’s willing to pay stupid sums. He hates London. Absolutely and categorically. Too much noise, too much traffic, too costly, too many people.
The Blackfriars finally comes up, and Ghost squeezes through the people. The crowd carries him all the way to the surface, where he takes a lungful of fresh air. Or, well, air. Damp and smelling of exhaust fumes.
Thankfully, the pub’s not far, and Ghost is in no hurry. He strolls at a leisurely pace, avoiding main streets flooded by tourists and natives alike like the plague, using back alleys and narrow, dirty passages reeking of piss and stale lager, reminding him of home.
The pub he goes to is in one such back alley. It looks dirty and cheap, but once Ghost steps inside, it’s actually clean and nice. The furniture and design are dated in the right way to call it cosy. There are a lot of people, but it’s curiously quiet and as far as Ghost can tell, no tourists.
Ghost comes up to the bar. “I’ve got a reservation. Name’s Garrick,” he tells the woman, who checks something he cannot see before she nods and points to a small table in the corner. There’s already someone sitting there. The baseball cap is a dead giveaway.
“Fancy meeting you here, Lieutenant Garrick,” Ghost claps Gaz’s shoulder when he walks up to him as if they met by chance. Gaz jerks and turns around quickly. Gaz always had impeccable impulse control. Better than Ghost, for sure. If their places were switched, Simon would probably try to flip Gaz over the shoulder and onto the table. As it is, Ghost smiles as he removes the medical mask he wears in public and sits down. “So, how are you?”
 Kyle rolls his eyes but smirks. “Oh, cut the crap, Ghost, we both know you wouldn’t come to London to catch up with me.” Ghost takes a breath to object, but Kyle continues before he can speak up. “Or… not just to catch up with me. So, what is it? Need help getting rid of a body?”
Ghost snorts, and Gaz grins, catching a waiter’s eye and gesturing for two pints.
“No. But you’re right, I have a favour to ask,” Ghost admits. He was never one for beating around the bush. “Got a callsign, let’s see what can you tell me about it?”
“Bloody hell, Ghost, I don’t know every soldie…,”
Ghost doesn’t even let him finish. “Soap.”
Gaz promptly shuts up and stays silent for half a minute, precisely when their beers arrive. Ghost hands the waiter a ten-pound note. Gaz waits until the waiter retreats before he speaks up. “Right, I guess I do know about this one. How do you know him?”
“Coincidence, met him online,” Ghost answers truthfully.
“Online? Like a dating app or assassins for hire?” Gaz feigns shock but can barely keep it up.
“A video game, Gaz, Christ,” Ghost shakes his head as he takes the glass and downs half of it in one go.
“Alright, alright. Just taking the piss, mate. Seriously, though, there’s not much I can tell you.”
That’s a peculiar choice of words on Gaz’s side. He didn’t say he doesn’t know the lad; he said he can’t tell Ghost much. Meaning he knows a shit load but can’t speak about it. “I understand. I have some tips, so… just nod if I’m right?”
“Alright.”
“Sergeant?”
Gaz nods.
“Fits. I know he’s good, but is he more than good?”
Another nod.
“Marines?”
That gets a first shake.
“Not the Marines? Then that means he’s pretty daring, isn’t he?” he looks at Gaz expectantly. Gaz nods.
“Really? Interesting. One of yours?”
“Ghost,” Gaz warns.
“I know, had to try,” Ghost smiles.
Gaz sighs and shakes his head before his lips also curl in a smile. “What I can tell you is that he’s not only good at his job but a good man, too. I can see why you’d like him.”
“It’s not… we’re not…,” Ghost says hastily, panic clear in his voice.
“Relax, Simon,” Gaz says, taking a swing from his glass, “you’ve changed, you know...” When he sees the disagreement written all over Ghost’s face, he continues. “I think it’s good. You’re… you seem fine. Content.”
Ghost jerks a little at the sound of his name coming from Gaz. It took him months to get used to being called Simon, but for Gaz, he’s always been Ghost. Not anymore, apparently. It doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. Maybe Gaz is right. Simon has changed, and it’s not a bad thing.
“Guess I am,” Simon muses, looking around at all those civilians. Technically, he’s one, too, but in reality, there will always be the matter of his past etched into his very existence. He’s been a soldier for so long, but that’s not all he’s been.
Maybe it’s time he remembered.
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herofics · 11 months
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I had this insane dream that would make for a good Dabi and Shigaraki story? You know “Gaston” from “Beauty and the Beast” 
So it’s based around between season five and six so Dabi or Shigaraki (separate stories,) have a S/O well Re-Destro and Trumpet find out about Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s S/O and they are upset about it and they pull off this “Gaston” crap like “ it’s not right for a villain to have a lover because we’re villains we don’t have time for that shit and this ‘lover’ of Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s and (she or they) are going to get in the way of our ‘evil plans’ ” type of crap.
So do you like try to blackmail and threaten the S/O to scare them off and end the relationship (she or them) with Shigaraki or Dabi but S/O doesn’t have the heart to tell them because they love Shigaraki or Dabi so much but then Shigaraki or Dabi found out on their own about what’s going on and they are pissed as hell about the whole situation and they confront Re-Destro and trumpet about it and those two are terrified as af and they leave Y/N alone.
plus even skeptic knew about what was going on and he’s on Y/N’s side, because even he knew it was wrong of them to try and get in between Shigaraki or Dabi and their S/O.
A/N: I really liked this request tbh, sorry it took so long though. The Shiggy one went a bit differently than what you requested but oh well. Not my best work but eeeeh, I didn’t want to work on it anymore, since I started writing this like a month ago
~Dabi~
He already knew that the Meta Liberation Army people loved sticking their noses where they didn’t belong, but for god’s sakes. He normally wouldn’t care, but now that it involved him and you, he was pissed. This also explained the fact that you seemed to be distancing yourself from him.
He marched straight to your shared room and basically kicked the door open.
You had been sitting on the couch by the window, and almost dropped your phone when the door busted open.
“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?” Dabi growled as he approached you.
“Holy shit Dabi, you don’t need to give me a heart attack to get my attention” you said with a mildly annoyed tone. “Also what are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talkin about. That Trumpet guy has been tryin to get rid of you, hasn’t he?”
“Well he hasn’t tried to kill me or anything…” you downplayed the whole thing. “Besides, how did you even find out? I doubt he told you”
“That goth with all the computers told me. He loves to gossip apparently” Dabi rolled his eyes.
“Oh, I see. He does seem to know everything that’s going on around here” you grumbled.
“So, spill it” Dabi commanded.
You sighed and patted the spot on the couch next to you. Dabi sat down next to you and you explained: “Well, short version is, the MLA has big plans for you and they don’t need me to “get in your way” and “make you soft”, or something”
“What the hell?” Dabi groaned.
“Apparently their reasoning is that I take too much of your time, and you’d prioritize me over what you’re supposed to do. I don’t really know to be honest, they just don’t like me being with you”
“Those bastards…”
“It kind of got to me I guess. Of course the threats of violence had some part in it too, but I really don’t want to get in the way of what you need to do”
“First of all you’re not gettin in my way, and if you were, you wouldn’t be here. Second of all, I’m goin to burn that loud bastard alive”
“That’d be great, but I would rather you not incur the wrath of the rest of them, that’d just lead to more trouble”
“You think I care?” Dabi scoffed.
“Nope, but I thought I’d mention it anyway” you couldn’t help but smirk a little.
Dabi wasn’t going to let this stand. No one threatened his s/o and got away with it.
“I’m gonna go teach that Trumpet guy a lesson, he needs to learn to mind his business” Dabi shouted as he stomped out of the room.
“Oh boy” you muttered to yourself.
Dabi was intent on keeping his word. No one got to tell his partner what to do, well no one other than him.
He marched through the mansion in search of the damned politician, and when he finally got his hands on the man he did what he promised.
“You need to learn to mind your damn business. My relationships are none of your business” Dabi said as he decked the man in the nose.
“I’m just doing what’s best for the cause, you can’t fault me for that” he said as he held his now bloody nose.
“I don’t give a damn about why you did it, just know that you’re not going to do it again, or you’ll regret it” Dabi smiled manically, as he let go of the other man’s collar, making him stumble back.
“No, I won’t do anything, I swear” Trumpet promised.
“You’d better keep your word” Dabi hissed as he left the room. “Idiot”
~Shigaraki Tomura~
It’s not like he was the most attentive or observant guy around, but he wasn’t an idiot. He could feel you’d been getting more and more distant lately. He felt like he hadn’t seen you in days before you finally showed up at the hospital, about a day before he was supposed to start undergoing the experiments the doctor had planned for him.
“Haven’t seen you in a while” he said, staring out the window, not turning to look at you.
“How’d you know it was me?” you asked from the doorway
Shigaraki motioned towards your reflection in the window, still not looking at you.
“I’ve gotta come clean about something” you said as you walked up to him and placed your hand on his shoulder.
Shigaraki finally turned to look at you and he was surprised by what he saw. You were teary eyed and looked very upset.
“What is it? Who do I need to hurt?” he asked, with that familiarly malicious glint in his eyes.
You knew his malice wasn’t directed at you, but it still made you a bit nervous because you knew what usually followed. Someone was about to get hurt, badly.
“No, it’s not like that… Well maybe it is partly, but that’s not what I want to talk about” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “I thought I could deal with this by myself, just do what he demanded and not cause you any trouble, but…”
“Who demanded?” Shigaraki had a feeling he already knew who you were referring to.
“Re-Destro” you muttered.
“That old man really doesn’t know how to keep his nose out of other people’s business” Shigaraki groaned. “What did he say to you?”
“He doesn’t want me to be with you, apparently I’m getting in the way of your greatness and potential and I have an unwanted influence on you. I don’t want to get in your way so I just kind of tried to stay away from you, the threats of violence added weight to his warning too” you explained reluctantly.
“Did he hurt you?” Shigaraki asked, sounding like he had to force the words from between his teeth.
“No” you lied, really hoping you wouldn’t make the situation any worse. “I just felt like I needed to tell you before whatever the doctor has planned for you, in case something happens…”
You already regretted telling him, because you knew he would gladly retaliate on your behalf even if you told him not to. You should have just kept your mouth shut, but there was no taking it back now.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me, and after it’s all done, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch to make sure he never even looks your way again” Shigaraki assured.
“That might be overkill” you rolled your eyes with a sniffle. “At least let his serve his purpose in the war, he can die after that”
“You’re too nice to someone who threatened you, he doesn’t deserve it” Shigaraki sighed with an annoyed tone and pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure he knows not to come anywhere near you before I’m back”
“Thank you Tomura” you smiled. “Also, I’m not being nice, I’m being practical”
“Whatever you say” he rolled his eyes.
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thatcheeseycandle · 7 months
Text
//SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 30 OF IN PURSUIT OF SELF CAUSE ITS REACTION TIME
Okay OKAY I GOTTA ADMIT THE TITLE CARD ALRRADY GOT MY ADRENALINE RUNNING CAUSE I CAN ALREADY SENSE THE HEAT COMING IN
Oi wait OI OI ITS A TRURO AND SCOT FLASHBSCK BIT OH BOY YUP ITS HEATING UP ALREADY
Scotsman refering to Pendennis using "she" NOW I WONDER IS PENDENNIS GENDERFLUID AS WELL OR GOES BY ANOTHER GENDER?? NOW THIS IS PULLING ME IN
"A railway that's run like a circus!" Mhm.. WOULD EXPLAIN WHY ALL OF THEM SOMEHOW ACT LIKE SHOW-PEOPLE/SHOW-MEN/SHOW-WOMEN DONT YA THINK??
Okay I kinda love Truro's not giving a crap or/and sassy attitude in this I LOVE IT BEHAJDHFHD
PENDENNIS CASTLE THINKS OTHERWISE????? OH BOY TRURO OH DIOS HEHAJFHFJFB
Wait wait WHAT MORE THAN ANY INSULT????? WHATATATDHHX
Oh OH OKAY WE PULLING OUT THE "Is a Young Iron" BITS NOW YEAH LETS GOGOSUFUUF FIGHT FIGHT FIGHR FIGHT
"You don't deserve her!" ..YEAH... MHM... COMPLETELY DOESNT SOUND SUSPICIOUS IT REALLY DOESNT SOUND ALL THAT TRURO-
Oh OH HOJOHOHOHOHOIDKDF SCOT GO GO GO FOR IT GO YEAHAHHAHAHA HE SURELY IS JEALOUS HE REALLY IS GO FOR IT SCOT GOOOOOOOOOO
..
Scot SCOT FIR THEBLOVE OF TOGOD IM SORRY FAT??? PAUSE. SIT. WHAT. OKAY OKAY YEAH. VERY. VERY UH. SHOCJING EHjHDHF
Oh no OH NO QUICKSILVERS GONNA GET HIS TENDER HES BUSTED OH HOHOGKNNNONONONONONI
EXACTLY. I AGREE LIKE DIOS IT KINDA YEAH IT IS, IN THOSE TERMS, DISGRSCEFUL YEAH I SEE IT CRYSTAL CLEARLY
"Scotsman's words had cut deep and Truro didn't know why." TRURO. I CANNOT RN I CANNOT. TRURO GOSH YOUR STRING IS BEING PULLED.
Im sorry PENDENNIS IS WHAR. PENDENNIS IS WHAT NOW? IM THROWING HANDS RN WHAT DIOS
A WEDGE? A WEFGE. WHAT. ITS ALRESDY GETTING HEATEX
"because she was seeing Scotsman behind the sheds" WHATATTAHAH WHAT. WHAT WHAT NONPNONONO WHAT. PAUSE. SIT. BREATH. BREATHING BREAK. IM GONNA THROW HANDS AT THIS SCREEN RN.
..
Tears. TRURO GOODLORD. THIS. MY GOSH THIS IS ALREADY GOING SOUTH SOUTH AS IN EARTHCORES SOUTH.
AYO WHAT AY AY AY GDC??? HUMAN CONSTRUCTS?? IM ALL EARS
flustered. FLUSTERED D. THIS SMAN IS FLUSTERED. WHAT DID THEY DO????????
. Truro YOU. TRURO YOU LOOK ALREADY FANTASTIC ON YOUR OWN JUSKO LIKE. THIS MAN REALLY PUTTING HIMSELF DOWN FOR NOTHING LIKE COME ON TRURO YOUR LITERALLY GODUHFHF YOU LOOK AMAZING
"After all we've been through?" THROUGH WHAT? THROUGH WHAT. WHATS THE SPECIFIC EVENTS HM? im overthiniing that BUT STILL HE IS CORRECT
Truro. TRURO. IT *USED* TO MATTER. USED TO. PAST. IN THE PAST IT MATTERED. WAY BEFORE THIS FLASHBACK
Wait. Lost your soul tryinh to save me? WIAIG THIS WAS. WHAAR WHAT. OKAY WE GOT A TIMELINE. THE FIRST FLADHBACK WAS LIKE WAY BEFORE WHILE THIS ONE WAS IN RECENT YEARS OR SOMETHING LIKE DURING EITHER GREEN WITH ENVY OR A GOLDEN SOUL I THINK
Scot HE JSUT WHARA HE SUED HSI NAM WHST OKAY IM JAWDROPPED IM VERY MUCH WOW
GOODLORD. wait. What if that day would be THIS CHOATER HE WODUDL WAITNWIAKT. WHAT IF TRURO COMES ALONG IN HIS HUMAN CONSTRUCT???? OHGNDYGOFOOSF
Ay AYYYYY TYDFIL MY GIRL WOOOOO
Oh gosh.. WELL UH. THE FIRST ED IS NOW. YEAH. BUT THANK GOD THEYRE GETTING RID OF MS PARSONS CAUSE DIOS THE BAZINGALLIONS OF TIMES SHE WRONGED SO MANY PEOPLE. DIOS.
Qait. MAINDYESH IT WHATS. SHE SHWTA NOONONONNONO. MAINDY. WHAT. CANT THEY. CNAT THEY RECOVEF HER AS YKNOW A SILVERY A MEORY OF SORTS
I THOUGHT SHE JUST FADED FOR A BIT THEN YKNOW WOULD COME BACK.
Oh Tydfil. Me too. In a way where I relate to these feelings. OH TYDFIL :(((
"She really was a child, she realised." Im gonna cry. TYDFIL. I MEAN MAYBE SHE COULD STAY WITH THOMAS AND THE BRENDAM CREW FOR A BIT? SHES GOT EVENING STAR SO YKNOW. YEAH.
AWEUSYSH YEAHH THOMAS LET SGOOGOGOG
"My mind tends to come up with the worst scenarios" EXACTLY WHY IM READING THIS AND ENJOYING MY INTERESTS-
YEHSHAHAHAH YOUG OT EVENEIGN STAR YEHAHAHSHS YEHAHHAHATHOMAS IS RUGHT YEHAHAHHHHHHH
Yes YES GO SPICEY TYDFIL GO ALL OUT SPICEY AND SASSY YEHAHAH GOOGOGO SLAY WITH THAT ATTITUDE GO ALL OUT
Yehahash YEHAHSH SHES GAINEF A NEW FRIEND *insrrt that arcade noise you hear when you get another coin*
Ph boy OH BOY ITS OLIVIA YEAH EVERYONE BUCKLE UP ITS TIME FOR THE TIPPY TOP OR SOMRTHING OF THE ROLLERCOASTER
Okay pause I GOTTA EAT DONNER SO YEAH DRAFT SAVING TIME YEAH
IM BACK TO READ WOOOOO
God SPOTIFY ADS. WELP. YEAH LITTLE WAITING GAME IG
Okay OKAY WE BACK TO READING WOOOO
Wait. A DREMA WHAT WIAT TALK TO POLLY???? QHAT WIA TWIS THWY ARE HER PARTS MISSING HUH WHAT. NOBONNO
POLLY YOUR EYWS YPUR NONONOOOO
Crying count: 1
YEHAHE BETTER GET HIS CRPA TOGETHER SOON CAUSE IM ABOUT TO LOSE MINE
Wait. Merry. MERRY WSIT BEFORE ALL THIS A FEW CHAPTERS BEFORE THIS ONE BAKU REBLOGGED THIS HUMANIZATION 6 CHARACTER THING WHERE MERRY'S HUMANIZATION AKA GDC WAS SHOWN. WIAT. WHARAR
I cant thpe out all my thoughtds GOD SOBBING TAKES LOTS OUT FO YOU.
Oh god EDWARD II RUN. RUN RUN SHAKE HER OFF RN SHAKE IT OFF YEHS SSHAKE HER OFF SHES AH NOOOO
NLONONONONONOB EFWARD IIII ANAOAOAOOOOI NAOOAOAOOOOOOO RHION ANOSOSOSOOOSOAOOAHDJSBAAJAJABSJAJJSJSHAHABA
NOOOOOIWOAOAOA WE LOST ANTOHER ONE I REPEAT WE LOST ANOTHER ONE WE GOT ONE DOWN AND ANOTHER NEAR DEATH THIS SI NTO A DRILL
Oh Gods OH NO OKAY IM PREPAEING MYSELF FOR THIS ITS THE TITLECARD BIT YEAH WE GOING WE GET GOING WE GONNA DO THIS
Oh no Scotsman. Yeah ngl that feeling hits hard when you just. When you see yknow your cousin and dad just ywah
Crying Counter: 2
OI WAHT WHAT OH GOD GET UP SCOTSMAN GET UP
Waig what THE LAMP WHAT
Oh Gosh. SCOT SCOT NO DONT NO OLAY YEAH OLVIIA AND POLLY ARE NEA RTO DEATH BUT GOODLORD THAT ISNT IT KINDS IDNT A GOOD IDE AIF YOU TWO CANT AGREE PN IT
GADWALL WHAT NOSOAO WHAT WHARSCD GADWALL GOODLORD
WHATSGSG MALLARD YOU LITTLE GOGUFUH WHAT HOW WHY HUH
GOODLORD THESE TWO ARE BRAWLING IT OUT
Ogugyh THE DAYDREAMS ARE HITTING HARD AS I IMAGE THIS SCENE-
Mallarf MALALRD. MALLARD :((
YEHA GADWALL STOP HIM STOP IT RN
Oh Mallard youve crossed the line now NOW YOUVE GONE BAD BAD THIS IS BAD.
Goodlord this is just the buffet for relatable characters.. OH LORD WHO MUST I RELATE TO THE MOST THEYRE BOTH RELATABLE-
"You almost took the person who gave me a reason to live when everything went wrong" DANG THAT HIT HARD.
Woah WOAH. MALLARD. CALM. CALMA. WHATARHWGS
MALLARD PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD- GIVEN THE FACTS THAT IF OLIVIA LIVES SHE MAY TRY TO FIND A WAY TO GIVE GADWALL A PROPER GDC SO IN THIS CASE, GIVE IN THE LAMP NOW
Okay OKAY SCOTSMAN YOU TOO DROP IT RN LIKE COME ON THE MAN DOESNT EVEN REMEMBERING TRYING TO MURDER YOU LOT OR MURDERING ANYONE-
I stared at this screen for 7-13 minutes. WHAR. MALLARD WHY WOULD YOU DO IT GOODLORD I MEAN YEAH ITS KINDA KINDA FAIR SINCE SCOT KINDA MESSED UP IN THE FIRST PLACE BUT GOODLORD THAT WAS THAT WAS VERY UNNECESSARY OF YOU
Im. IM VERY SHOCKED. THIS CHAPTER WAS THE EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER OF THE CENTURY LORD. THIS. WOW.
PAUSE. SIT. BREATH.
This chapter, with all my respect, was like YKNOW THE BIGGEST BANG IPOS HAD LIKE MY GOSH???? EACH BIT GOT MY ADRENALINE UP, YET AGAIN ANOTHER THRILLING CHAPTER BROGUHT TO YOU BY REDWYVERNWIRTES WOOOOO /POS
LETS COUNT THIS UP
3 near to death, 1 having a cliffhanger, 1 antagonist out on the run, 4 protagonists safe, 1 battle, and 2 healing. WOAH UH YEAH THATS LOTS-
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murderbirds · 1 month
Text
To claim my rightful place pt. 6
Edward kicked the front door of his apartment open, “OSWALD! HOLY CRAP!”
Ever since the incident with ogerpon, Oswald had started following Galavan's every move, going so far as to send his togekiss to watch him and create an entire board with threads and photos of all those closer to the man. Edward didn't mind, of course, in fact, he found it to be quite cool. It was almost as if he was an actual detective of the international police. He had also started mending his relationship with Ogerpon by occasionally making some treats that his mother used to make to him when he was younger. They were considerably cheaper than the ones Ed got and Ogerpon seemed to like them, so the scientist was happy. It was good that the most important people in his life were getting along.
What the voice in his head returned to his mind causing his blood to rush to his skin. Maybe he did have a crush on the man, but that didn't mean anything, right? Lots of people had crushes! It just meant that he cared about Oswald.
The taller man realized he had just been standing there trapped in his own mind while the entire room just stared at him and finally coughed slightly before presenting the file he had borrowed from the precinct. “I know exactly where you can get some strong pokemon.”
Oswald frowned as he looked at the images in the file that was dropped on his lap. “Gotham's catacombs? I thought it was just muk and zubats that lived down there.”
“Apparently not. People are being attacked by what they are calling ‘monsters that aren't from this world.’ I did some digging, and I think these are the same pokemon found in the Paldea region known as the Paradox pokemon. You see, several years ago this scientist tried to bring these pokemon from a different timeline to this world using what is known as tera crystals which allow pokemon to access their paradox energy-” Ed realized Oswald looked just as confused as the pokemon in the room. “Right. Uh, you know how your empoleon is a water and steel type pokemon?”
“Yes?”
“Well, this energy allows him to access a timeline where empoleons are fire type pokemon instead for example. Or grass! Or ice! And that allows him to change his type briefly to those types without losing the types he already has!”
“Right, I think I get it, but what does that have to do with the Gotham Catacombs?”
“Well, about 10 years ago, Wayne enterprises tried to replicate the experiment by bringing some of those crystals here. It didn't really work out, hundreds of years died and the project died down, but! I don't think that they got rid of the crystals how they should have. Instead, they just dumped it in the catacombs and called it a day. The crystals must have been connected to the ones in Paldea still so it is bringing those pokemon right here, to Gotham.”
“Ok… so there are these really strong pokemon in the catacombs because billionaires were lazy and thought something wouldn't bite them in the arse, but it did.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“And these things are killing people… but you still want me to catch them?! People eaters?!”
“Yeah! C'mon, Oz! You are the strongest trainer in Gotham! If someone can catch them, that someone is you!”
“Not with just three pokemon to my name!”
“Not just any pokemon! You have your Blaziken, a pokemon so powerful that it was able to go toe to toe against the lord of time itself, Dialga, when that Team Calendar tried to summon it to Gotham a month ago! Or your togekiss, known for being a pokemon that only shows themselves to few, like your mother! You convinced it to trust you enough to make it fight for you! Or your ace pokemon, empoleon, named after your beloved mother with which you got your title of champion and defeated the whole elite despite having no legendary pokemon! Oswald, you are the coolest person I have ever read about! I know you can do this.”
Oswald rubbed the back of his neck, wincing a little. “Well, when you put it like that, I suppose I am pretty accomplished. I will still need at least one more pokemon, however. Can I borrow Ogerpon at least until I have a full team? You may accompany us to see that no harm comes to her.”
Ed's eyes widened, “y-you want me to join you?! In an adventure?!”
“I wouldn't really call it an adventure, but I can't think of anyone who I would rather go with. Of course, if you can't do it, I understand. You are pretty busy with work after all.”
“I will ask for a week of vacation! We leave tomorrow!” Ed clapped in excitement and ran to his phone. Oswald couldn't help smiling.
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8
Full story
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kanerallels · 1 year
Note
#33, 47, 74, and 99 for the 501st follower celebration?
I shall FINALLY answer this one, in honor of the Ahsoka show coming out in LESS THAN TWO HOURS I'M TOTALLY NORMAL AND STABLE (lie)
33: Hera & Lucy are famous singers and Tim, Jackson, and Kanan are their bodyguards Au. The title says it all. Plus also Nolan is their agent. Have a little snippet below:
“I still can’t believe Nolan got us BODYGUARDS,” Lucy complained, pacing as best she could in the enclosed space of Hera’s trailer. The other woman gave her a patiently amused look.
“In his defense, Lucy, we’ve both received plenty of death threats.”
“Yeah, well, this is invasive,” Lucy grumbled, flopping down onto the couch. “That Bradford guy is already the grumpiest drill sergeant of a guy I’ve ever met.”
“I didn’t think he was that bad.”
Scoffing, Lucy said, “How would you know? You were too busy flirting with your bodyguard with the ponytail.”
“I was not!” Shooting her an offended look, Hera said, “All I’m saying is that we should make the best of the situation.”
“You do that.” Frowning thoughtfully, Lucy said, “I, on the other hand, am going to try and get rid of them. Especially Bradford.”
“This should end well,” Hera sighed.
47: Frank gets Snapped. Also pretty self explanatory!
“So let me get this straight,” Frank said slowly, trying to wrap his mind around what he was being told. He was used to a world where things were, if not straightforward, at the very least no magic was involved. “This alien guy—”
“Thanos,” Amy provided as she poured them both a cup of coffee.
“Right, him. He snapped his fingers and erased half of humanity?”
Nodding, Amy said, “Pretty much. Well, it helped that he had these magic gems called Infinity Stones that controlled key aspects of the universe—”
Holding up a hand, Frank said, “Too much.”
“Right. Sorry.” Sliding him his coffee cup, she said, “Anyways, long story short, now you guys are back… after five years.”
Frank cursed under his breath, running a hand over his forehead. “Five years. What— who else? Besides me?”
He knew the first name that leapt to mind, but reluctantly pushed it aside to ask, “Curtis?”
“He was fine,” Amy assured him. “He was the first— well, second person I called when everything went down.” They both knew who the first person was. “He and I teamed up to look for some of the others. That’s how I met your friend David Lieberman.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He was really helpful in finding everyone. He, uh— his wife got snapped. But both of his kids were fine.”
Wincing at the memory of Sarah— the kind woman who’d offered him that fancy wine— Frank said, “Got it. What about, ah, Madani?”
“She made it,” Amy assured him. “Mahoney didn’t, though.”
Nodding slowly, Frank said, “Right. And you found some of the others?”
“Yeah, David’s hacking skills made him pretty helpful. Other people hired him for it, too.” Amy half-grinned. “We thought we found you alive, one time. This guy hunting down crime lords. But Curtis figured you weren’t the sword type, and this guy, apparently, “didn’t move like you”, whatever that means.”
“Sword, huh?” Frank took a sip of his coffee. “Seems inefficient.”
“See, you say that, but he managed to kill a whole crap ton of guys. Major assassin skills going on there.”
“Huh. Not bad.” Frank took another long sip, playing for time before he asked the question. He was already scared of the answer. “What about, uh—”
“Karen made it,” Amy told him before he could force the words out. “She didn’t think you were sword guy either– although we were all a little disappointed. Her lawyer buddies didn’t make it, though.”
Frank grimaced at the thought— Karen alone, without Red or the shorter guy who’d been scared at the sight of him, but still stubborn and smart. She’d been alone for five whole years. She hadn’t known where he was for five whole years.
Time to fix that. Downing the rest of his coffee, he rose to his feet. “I gotta go.”
Smirking, Amy said, “I figured. Let me get my stuff— New York is a long drive.”
74: The Wraiths being trained by Vostress. I've posted this one before, but I have another snippet for you, as a treat!!
99: B99 Au. Believe it or not I actually have multiple Brooklyn 99 inspired aus. This one is set in the Star Wars universe and is MUCH chaos, very fun.
“So let me get this straight,” Fox said, staring at Kanan. “Not only did you lose the criminal Dark O’Reilly again—”
“Less lose and more he slipped out of our clutches,” Kanan offered.
“—but you spent part of the time that you should have used trying to thwart him to sing karaoke with him?”
Shrugging, Kanan said, “What can I say? He does an excellent “Don’t Stop Believin’.”
Fox let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead with a grimace. “How is someone as intelligent as Syndulla in love with you?”
Grinning, Kanan said, “I ask myself that question every day, Captain. Honestly, I’m so lucky to have her. She’s incredibly beautiful and smart and—”
“Get out of this office.”
“Absolutely.”
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nerdyenby · 1 year
Text
Green time :D I’m watching Ranboo
“I can take myself seriously, I can do it” mmm I don’t think you can
TINKERBOO MY BELOVED <3333
THATS TERRIFYING HOLY CRAP
I got timed out for saying this will haunt my nightmares????
Welp, he was a fairy for all of five minutes before getting possessed
“If I have the opportunity to get rid of my eyes, I’m going to” yeah ok
This team is going to be so freaking chaotic
Them all yelling swears as soon as they establish no one’s pg 😂
Them just straight up missing the ready up 😂😂😂
Rocket Spleef
Relentlessly unhinged already, I’m losing it
“She green on my gecko til I’m insured” MICHELA 😭😭😭
*grandpa voice* “What the hell is a they/them??”
PHIL MVP!!!!!!
WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG
I’m not even processing the event what game are we even playing??????
Hole in the Wall
Send help
“It’s called hole in the wall, not hole in the ground” so true Krinios
I go get a sandwich and come back to them adding an age requirement???
Skybattle
Omg people are dying so fast what
They popped off!!!
Phil is so good at surviving in Minecraft you guys
This is a great pov to watch live because I have no idea what’s actually happening, it’s like I get to experience it for the first time twice lol
“They got the slight cognitive abilities” I zone out for ten seconds lol
Someone help Sniff 😭😭😭
Meltdown
“Time to have a meltdown on stream” so true Philza Minecraft
I’m losing my mind
Michela hit the “girl dinner” note perfectly holy crap
Npc team fr, Krin didn’t get the memo
“To be fair… it was funny” - MCC33 Green Geckos motto
Pink popping off!!
“Icy take: let’s not die”
Michela needs to be a voice actor fr
Manifesting Aimsey back to back wins <333
Battle Box
“I’m about to run this team like it’s the navy” as they should!! Krinios igl arc
Michela 😭😭😭
Sapnap crit is so based
Omg teamwork <333
“New strat: the same thing we’ve already been doing” BASED
THAT LAST ROUND 😂😂😂
“I have no boys in my yard ;-;” lmao
Ran and Phil are holding hands this MCC
“I’m really good at acting like I’m dead, it’s my speciality” RANBOO GENERATION LOSS LIVE I STG
“Oh shi-oot” ran whatchu doin, you can swear now, it’s okay
Ace Race
Noooooo Michela 😭😭😭
Jojo calling the tie sexist is so
“The m in MCC stands for misogyny” so true aimseytv!!!!!
Literally no one wants pkt, so true
Grid Runners
Do we think they’ll try or nah?
You know what? No, I’m gonna stop holding back, Sapnap can stfu, I’m so serious
THEYRE CRAZY WITH IT!!!!!!
NEW ROOM NEW ROOM NEW ROOM :D
That was so clutch!!!
“She run on my grid til I ers” thank you Krinios
“I’m in Texas” “Oh. Sorry” 😂😂😂😂
NOOOOO
YESSSSSSSSSS
Sands of Time
WHY IS RAN GIVING PHIL A KISS AAAAAAAAAAAA
*Slow pan* “You’re homophobic”
I hate that so much, thanks noxcrew <333 /lh
This is so painful
The belated “hi HBomb” my beloved
OH MY GOSH
This red path is wild
NOOOOOO Phil :((
“At the end of the day, we are the silly team” so true Michela!!!
Movies don’t exist, we love writers and actors
Krin’s reaction to “cream crew” killed me
Yellow supremacy!!!!!
Dodgebolt
Unanimous yellow support my beloved <33
They’re gonna ambush Scott and harass him into getting this team every event from here on out, so true
MY streamers stan Oli Orionsound, as they should!!
“No one’s rooting for red” hmm that’s so weird and quirky, I wonder why /s
JORDAN SUPREMACY!!!!!!!
Welp that’s what I get for sharing a negative opinion on the internet, not apologizing tho
“Not this time, anime protagonist, now the villains win” PHILZAAAAAAAAAAAA /pos
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pavo-ocxllus · 1 year
Text
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« rewind. / pause. / fast forward. »
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the thin slip of paper wrapped around the bottle nestled in the crate's furthest left corner caught your attention first. slowly, you started to approach the car, as if it the bottle of wine was a secret explosion waiting to happen—
"[name], was it?"
you jumped at the sudden, yet familiar outburst from your concentration. 
"oh! um, yes... if you wouldn't mind forgetting about this, alvin-"
"ALBEDO."
"albedo!" way to go, [name]. "yeah, i really hope you don't-"
"you forgot gloves," the cyan-eyed scientist was quick to pull them (almost materializing it) out of nowhere. "after meeting each other, i don't believe either of us would appreciate accidentally pinning you responsible for mr. ragnvindr's incident."
this time, he offered a small smile that resembled a smirk if you squinted. you'd feel embarrassed, but that was mostly overridden by relief. 
slipping that on, you muttered a 'thank you' before finally delving into the trunk, being extra careful as to lift the wine bottle you had your eyes on. 
playing with it by moving it up and down, it was just as you thought—it was loose.
double checking by setting the bottle aside, you picked another up to rid your doubts. it refused to budge.
placing that bottle back down, you picked up the former bottle once more, now trying to wiggle the label out. crap, it was harder than you thought...
just then, you felt your back against someone's chest, arms coming from either side of you and toward the bottle. a glimpse at the gloved hands removing the label already told you who they belonged to.
you felt albedo breathing against you; it was oddly more audible than you'd imagine a person's would be. fortunately, the moment was short lived once he managed to get the label out ans pulled away. 
"thanks," you could only offer. though, given what you knew of albedo already, it probably wasn't that deep.
"it's no problem," he answered. "maybe that would help you to remember my name."
you take that back, maybe it was that deep.
your face flushed pink as you turned to face away from his blank eyes practically boring into your soul. whatever, you had a job to do! he might be cute... but still! getting evidence for the law firm is very much so crucial!
with the label now free and in your hands, you took a moment to examine it. of course, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary at first, but upon closer viewing, you noticed there was something on the inside of the label. 
writing...?
"it's diluc's," when albedo saw your confused face, he quickly started to explain. "we had his handwriting analyzed before he decided to hire from your firm." 
you glanced at the his handwriting, looking similar to that of a signature—hard to read and understand.
seeing as you were having trouble deciphering it, you handed to albedo to see if he could understand it, which he gladly took. a few moments of muttering later, he finally started to speak clearly.
"'traveler... i hope this note finds you well. may the cover of darkness make our city a safer place.' signed... and that's it."
"weird... he left out his own signature?"
"it's a strange choice, but if it was out of anonymity, it still doesn't add up," the silver-haired man put a hand to his hip, his other cradling his chin after he handed the label back to you. "regardless, that's besides the point. the message itself is something we should uncover. 'the cover of darkness?' 'our city a safer place?' ...i'm not exactly a detective, so i'm afraid this would be out of my field. are you taking anyone's case in particular?"
"no?"
"i see... well, this is something we'll analyze later. if we find anything concrete, it can be evidence for what you're looking for," he took out a plastic baggy out of his pocket to drop the label in. "you've got quite the eye for this. color me impressed."
"ah, thank you!" you responded, smiling. you half-expected him to leave you again to go back to his job, yet he simply stood there. for lack of anything better to say, you spoke up. "what time is it?"
"hmm?" he glanced at the watch wrapped smugly around his wrist, as if it was tailored for him. "oh, it's half-past noon."
his answer made you perk up.
"lunch...!" how could you forget? "i gotta go—i'll see you around?"
getting over his minor shock at your outburst, he could only crack a small smile. "...will do."
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↳ it's time for lunch!
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫? 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞! <𝟑
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naoa-ao3 · 1 year
Text
The Tape
SUMMARY: Gemma brings a tape home from school that makes her ears bleed. Cheryl asks John to get rid of it. Is there any chance he won't listen to it?
The phone rings and John picks up, hand twitching only a little. Most times when he get's a phone call it's something bad but he answers anyway and this time is surprised to hear his sister's voice on the other end.
He doesn't get around to see Cheryl as much as he probably should. Most of the time he just causes her trouble anyway.
"John, what do you think you're playing at?" She asks before he can speak, she sounds angry and he winces a little, unsure of what he's supposed to have done now.
"Gonna have to be more specific than that." He mutters.
"You bloody know what I'm talking about. The damn tape. I don't know where else Gemma would have gotten it from."
He get's annoyed now because he doesn't know anything about a tape. "What tape?" He asks. "She watch a porno flick or something?"
Cheryl makes a noise of irritation too. "You wish it were something that ordinary. It bloody hurt her."
And he just doesn't know what she's talking about. "Cheryl come off it, I'm all the way in London. I don't know what tape you're talking about. Now is Gemma okay?"
A huff. "Yeah, she's alright. Turned it off and she was fine again but she had all this blood coming out of her ears and then Tony listened to it and he started bleeding too."
"Jesus. . . Glen Campbell's greatest hits then?"
"It's not funny, she said she got it at school but I-"
"She didn't get it from me but I'll take it off your hands." John say's immediately, not knowing what this thing is but understanding and wanting it away from his niece and sister. "I can be by in a day or so."
A sigh. "You promise, John? I don't want this shit mucking up her life. You hear me? I don't want that."
"No, you're right. I won't let it."
He can hear her trouble and disbelief even when she doesn't say anything. "Okay, stay for dinner then? I'll make something up."
He nods. "Won't say no to that. I'll be there, Cheryl."
"Yeah, okay." She say's again. "Sorry I yelled. There was just blood and all coming down her face. No mother wants to see that."
"No of course not." And he knows his sister loves Gemma. Of course she does. She's a good mum. She was a good sister to him when it came down to it.
"So you'll come get rid of the thing?" She asks.
He nods. "Yeah, already there."
He hangs up and rubs at his face, feeling dark. He's tried so hard to keep this shit away from Gemma but it keeps finding her. Just like it found him only she's just a kid and she's young and innocent and it hurts that he can't keep it away from Gemma.
It hurts that Cheryl thinks he could have given Gemma the tape but then. . . Cheryl's dealt with his shit for years. . . who else would come to mind?
He get's the first ride out of London he can get and heads her way, thinking about all the songs that have ever made his ears bleed through the years. It's almost comical except that it isn't really like that. Not literal blood like what was running down the sides of his niece's face.
Of a little girl's face.
It's supposed to be just a figure of speech.
The ride takes forever and there's rain. Too much rain and the inside of the lorry he's managed to talk his way into is wet and cold.
The driver has a thermos of steaming coffee but he doesn't offer to share any and John can smell the burnt crap's stench floating next to the dank humidity of the cab.
The driver is snide. Probably picks people up so he can feel better about himself. He asks rude questions, smirks a lot but John just ignores it.
The ride is mostly silent.
Wet and silent as water droplets form against the inside of the window panes and jump out at him. The old leather stinks and feels gritty under him.
He get's off in Warrington and from there it's an easy trek to Cheryl's.
The familiar streets of his teenage haunts have changed. Progress and modernization have replaced most of shabby exteriors and old Victorian facades. It's surreal but then he doesn't come home much.
Cheryl greets him at her door, eyes troubled, face worried and he knows she's more upset than she wants to let on.
He hugs her anyway. "How's Gemma?" He asks.
"She's alright. You know how kid's are."
He nods and follows her inside.
There's school pictures on the walls of Gemma and a vase of dried flowers on the television. Cheryl's house looks normal. The weird stuff only brushes her life and he suddenly hates that this tape has invaded her home.
She puts on the kettle and sighs unhappily. "Thanks for coming on such short notice." She say's giving him an apologetic look.
There are lines around her eyes now that hadn't been there when they were kids. John feels like a kid around her again. He think's it's funny how you shrink up around family.
He isn't a kid though. "Of course." He say's.
This is the now.
She shakes here head. "I was out of my mind when I called you. I really was. I was so upset. There's no excuse for how I talked to you."
He reaches for her sleeve. "You think I don't know that?" He asks, trying to be comforting.
She smiles weakly. "No, I know you know." She say's and he sees her shoulders finally relax a little. "Gemma's going to be happy to see you." She say's.
He smiled and nods. "She at school, then?"
"Yeah. She's got good grades, you know? I'm proud of her."
"You should be."
She brushes her hair back and yet he can see the tension still there because everything isn't perfect with Tony and now she's got this to worry about. "Sometimes though, John. . ." She shakes her head and then smiles. "I'm glad you came."
He is too and he smiles gently back at her. "Any time you call, I'll turn up."
She laughs genuinely there. "Now don't go pulling my leg." She say's.
That hurts a little but he knows it's fair. He isn't totally reliable and she knows it but just the same. . . he means it to be true.
He sighs to himself and the kitchen is alright. Tony doesn't keep them living in splendor but it's alright.
"Everything alright on your end, John?" She asks.
He nods because it mostly is and what isn't there isn't time to say. "Think so." He say's.
"Good, you always seem to have a lot going on. I worry about you sometimes."
He appreciates that and looks down at the table, the yellow Formica is starting to show some wear now. "Nah, I'm alright Cheryl." He say's because it's easier than telling her all of the things she might not even believe in. "You don't need to worry. You got enough on your plate as a mum."
She smiles a little sadly. "Oh John you know it's not that easy to stop worrying."
He appreciates that too and sips his tea. "So what about this tape, then?" He asks. "What's on it?"
"How should I know? I didn't bloody listen to it."
He laughs a little. "Gemma say?"
"She was in shock, I think. If she even knew it in the first place." She fishes into her pocket and hands over a white cassette tape, shaking her head. "I don't even know how mums are supposed to know what their kids are up to these days." She say's. "I can't check everything she brings home from school. Remember when you had to save everything you got for a new record? It was vinyl then. This thing fits in your back pocket. I didn't even know she'd brought it in the house."
He takes the tape and turns it over curiously. "I remember." He say's, thinking back some years now.
She shakes her head. "We didn't have it perfect but. . . at least our music didn't make your ears bleed."
He laughs and wonders what's on the tape.
He think's he'd really like to know.
A symphony from hell? Some kind of muttered, arcane chanting? The possibilities were endless.
"Gemma should be back soon." Cheryl say's, looking towards the window and sighing. "I told her you were coming." She looks like she expects him to dart out the door.
He smiles, trying to put her eat ease. "Wouldn't want to disappoint, then."
Her eyes find him. "You're staying for dinner, aren't you? You said you would."
He raises his hands in surrender. "I meant it."
"Good because I've got a roast in the oven."
He looks towards the oven and nods. That sounds good. "Wouldn't miss it." He say's, feeling comfortable in her house when it's just the two of them.
He's not that far from where they grew up although Cheryl and Tony have managed to get themselves into a better neighborhood.
Cheryl sighs and looks at the clock on the opposite wall. "Tony should be off soon too. Do you have somewhere to spend the night?"
He glances towards the living room and raises an eyebrow. "If you wouldn't mind."
She shakes her head, smiling a little. "No, go ahead. Couch is yours."
He likes that and smiles too.
These are the easy moments, the moments when everything is working the way it should and if he ignores the reason for his trip, he's just a brother visiting his sister and her family.
He slips the tape into his pocket as the kitchen door opens and Gemma steps in, school bag thrown over her shoulder and shirt untucked.
He can remember shucking off school clothes the moment he was able to, the useless, oppressive uniforms were nothing once the last bell had rung. Once the doors had opened.
She stops and looks at him, eyes bright. "Uncle John!" She say's with delight. "Mum said you'd be coming!"
He lets her hug him and then she set's her bag down and starts working on a snack. "It's cause of that tape, isn't it?" She say's in a voice that's probably supposed to be sly. It tells him she's been thinking about it.
He nods. "Partly but also the chance to see you two."
She smiles and takes her snack off to her room, leaving the adults to talk and he raises his eyebrows at Cheryl. "She get's bigger every time I see her."
"You should come by more, then it won't be such a surprise."
He nods but knows he won't. Tony doesn't like him that much and he brings trouble. It's better if he keeps some distance, especially with all the weird stuff that tracks home after Gemma these days.
They talk for a little bit more and then Tony comes in, also through the kitchen door and the talk stays pleasant, Gemma pokes her nose back into the room too and eventually the kitchen smells like Cheryl's roast and John feels for a brief, fleeting moment like nothing's out of the ordinary.
He eats and talks with his family and manages to get along with Tony and by the end of it he's got his shoes off and is sitting on the couch.
Gemma seems unbothered by the tape but he supposes that it wasn't the weirdest thing she's ever encountered.
She talks about friends and school and asks pointed questions. She wants to know things he knows and he worries for what that means in the future.
When the lights go out he lays back and stares at the ceiling.
He wants to know what's on the tape. He absolutely wants to know what's on the tape.
He looks over at the stereo center against the wall and thinks about turning the down volume real low.
He glances down the hall however and thinks the better of it. It'd be his luck someone would get out of bed.
He pulls the blankets up to his chin and broods about it.
He really wants to know what's on the tape.
They'd said it was music.
He looks at the stereo center again and turns over on the couch. He can wait until he get's back to London.
He eats breakfast with them the next morning.
Gemma is dressed for school and Cheryl is in a bath robe and slippers.
Tony is already dressed for work.
"You're heading out today, are you?" He asks John, who nods.
"Well. . . nice seeing you."
It's awkward but John only nods again. "Same." He say's, getting an approving glance from Cheryl.
Gemma say's she wishes he could stay another night and he assures her he'll be back soon although he doesn't know when that will be.
Then Tony and Gemma are gone and it's just him and Cheryl.
"You be safe heading back today." She say's. "You still hitch hiking?"
He shrugs, guilty.
She shakes her head. "This is why I worry about you."
He laughs. "I'm alright. Never have any trouble."
That's not entirely true but he doesn't want her to worry at all so why tell her the truth?
She shakes her head again and sits with him. "It was nice having you in again." She say's, mug steaming in front of her. "Even if it was only for a night."
He shrugs. "I'll be around again."
She nods and sips her drink. "You're not going to listen to it, are you?" She asks suddenly, eyes on his coat. It's hanging over the back of his chair and he laughs.
"Of course not." He say's, heart speeding up at the thought of what might be on it.
She nods again and sighs. "I wish I believed that." She sounds like she really does wish it.
He grins. "Maybe it'll fall out of my pocket."
"Yeah, right into a tape deck."
He laughs again and it's good, sitting there with her.
He leaves around noon and hitches a ride all the way to Coventry and from there back to London, the tape burning a hole in his pocket.
He's run through all the things that could possibly be on the tape and come to the conclusion that it could be anything.
He get's inside and heads straight for the stereo in the corner.
His hands are sweating as he pulls the damn thing from his pocket.
He needs to know.
He shakes as he tries to fit the tape into the little slot, fucking it up a few times before getting it in and closing it.
He presses the button down and waits, hearing a faint crackle as the tape turns. It's almost unbearable and then a sickly sweet tune starts to emit itself from the speakers.
And they called it puppy love
He winces as a sharp pain starts to build in his ear drums.
It get's worse with each swell in the music and every line makes it so much more unbearable.
He clamps is hands over his ears and feels wetness there. He looks at his left hand and sees red.
He hits the stop button and the pain turns into a dull ringing.
He shakes his head, dizzy and nauseous now.
"Christ." He mutters, taking the tape out and looking at it.
Donny Osmond.
He shivers a little as the music stays in his head. He feels violated in a way and his hand itches towards the tape player again. . . just wanting to be certain but he stops.
His ears have stopped bleeding and he's afraid the song is going to be stuck in his head now.
He tears the tape out of the cassette and breaks the plastic.
Some people just like putting evil into the world and he thinks that whoever made this must have a particularly cruel sense of humor.
He throws the tape in the trash and tries to remember which day pick up is.
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erigold13261 · 1 year
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I think he is trying, though. He's got that "trying to distance himself from anything he deems childish" attitude, he takes on more responsibilities. Yes, his parents played a role in his parentification, but the thing about kids who have to grow up too fast is that they start doing it to themselves, too. I'm not trying to blame Dion, I'm just saying that he's definitely trying to be as grown up as he can be, often to his detriment.
See, to me at least, there is a difference between:
-a kid WANTING to be what they THINK is an adult
-and a kid being FORCED to be an adult
With that second option, there is a branch off of it too. A kid who does it bitterly and a kid who accepts it and starts to actively conform to their responsibilities.
I do think Dion wanted to be an adult as a kid, and was probably happy with it at first. Thinking he is helping, getting praised by his parents, just having to do a little extra around the circus. Heck, Dion might have thought he was already basically an adult at age like 5.
But then the reality starts to hit him when Raz is born and he ACTUALLY has to be an adult as a kid. This is where he sorta goes off and starts conforming to the adulting he has to do. At first I am sure he complained a bit, but then seeing how much he is needed to help his parents made him conform and actively participate in being an "adult" for his siblings.
Yes, he is trying to be an adult, but as he grew older and saw how the others weren't being forced to grow up, he started getting bitter and hating being a adult. He wanted to have fun and not worry about all the stuff he had to, but he couldn't. Raz could. Mirtala and Queepie could. Like for fucks sake! (<for dramatic effect, not towards you) Frazie could too because of his efforts of taking on the responsibility of adult so she didn't have to!
He doesn't WANT to be an adult. He wants to be a kid and to have fun and to play around and not worry about all this crap that was put on him from such a young age. But he HAS to continue to do all of this. He has to conform and actively participate in being an adult otherwise things will fall apart.
In his mind, the best way for him to be an adult is to not be a child. So he pushes all that childish stuff away, trying to get rid of all that happiness he feels he can never have, just to make being a child of parentification at least a little bit tolerable.
Like you said, we shouldn't blame Dion, and that is because he was basically brainwashed into thinking that he is absolutely needed to make sure his siblings and the circus around him stays afloat. He does put his own pressure and responsibilities on himself now compared to only his parents doing it when he was a kid, but that is because that is all he knows. He literally does not know how to be a kid, but he also doesn't know how to be an adult.
He knows hot to NOT be a kid and so that means he thinks he knows what being an adult is. But he doesn't. He doesn't want to be an adult, but he can't NOT be an adult without everything falling apart. So of course he is going to keep packing on responsibilities until he breaks under the pressure. It's all he knows how to do.
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woodelf68 · 1 year
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Trying to go through and get rid of some old stuff, and I found the letters the school sent my parents saying I had passed the screening done to identify students for the gifted program in 7th grade, which was a class that would take the place of one of my elective choices for the year.
From the first letter: "The course curriculum deals with divergent thinking skills in developing creative problem solving, decision making, analysis, syntheses, and evaluation".
I assume I was just as horrified reading that then as I am now. Just because I liked to read and got good grades in the subjects I was interested in (English, social studies, etc.) did not mean I was academically-minded or wanted to feel more "challenged" in class.
From the second letter, Premise One: (Yes, the points laid out in the letter are labeled "premises", and let me tell you, that kind of stuffy language puts me off immediately.) "Gifted children will be among the leaders and problem-solvers of the future."
Me: AHAHAHAHA (Definitely not me)
"Activities: Future problem solving bowl techniques (Bowl???), Time capsules (not interested, and I think we'd already done one in 6th grade?), a library search of the origins of war (oh boy, just how 12 year old me wanted to spend my time! (not)), group discussions involving values, education, self-concept, death, social security, nature-nurture, vocation (I literally cannot think of anything less interesting), and future shock (I have no idea what this was about, and couldn't care less.)
The next bit's about learning how to research and outline and write a paper, but we did that in regular classes. And then Premise 3: These children are more likely to be vocationally motivated than average students, so the program should assist them in making intelligent occupational choices.
Me: AHAHAHAHA no. Never been vocationally motivated in my life. And I had just gotten out of elementary school, the highlight of my week was probably still watching Saturday morning cartoons, some vague future where I had to get a job was not something I was concerned about. Six years in the future was literally half of my entire life at that point, and felt a very long way away. Asking kids if they have a future dream job is one thing (and suggesting things they could do at their current age to pursue those dreams), but all the tests and stuff they mentioned seem better suited for kids moving into high school.
The only statement the letter made that I agree with is Premise 4: "Gifted children should be given the opportunity to determine the activities they are most interested in." Well, yeah, all children should, but I didn't need to waste one of my elective classes to find out what I liked; I already knew.
Premise 5: "Gifted students have a tendency to become workaholics if they do not learn the importance of a good balance between work and relaxation."
Me: AHAHAHAHA, this is so not me. In fact it sounds to me that this class would have been forcing me to do extra work. 'Relaxing' activities listed are skating (nope, never was able to learn how to skate, I have weak ankles and crap balance), bowling (boring), baseball (boring, too much standing around under a hot sun), and volleyball (only one that I might have found fun, although I sprained my ankle so badly in high school gym class playing volleyball that I started repeatedly spraining it on a regular basis just by like catching a toe on a crack in the sidewalk; even months of physical therapy failed to break up any of the resulting scar tissue or improve my near non-existent range of motion in my ankle. Athletics and me do not get along.).
Premise 6: "The society of the future needs these "movers" and "shakers"...
Me: AHAHAHAHA again, SO not me. I am not a mover and a shaker, I am a sitter and a reader. I think my parents tried to encourage me to take the gifted class, but I am so glad that they didn't force me when I very firmly said no. Idk, maybe there are kids out there who enjoy thinking about death and social security and self-concept, I enjoyed learning practical skills in woodshop and the home ec cooking class that I took that year.
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