#I will not apologize for what I will become

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[mohntilyet]

i promise i am not veering into caterina apologism i think lucanis and illario fans should unionise to kill her. but it is sooooo fun to me to think of how all her children and almost all her grandchildren are dead and all the terrible, abusive lessons she taught (presumably that she herself was taught by her own parents) were for nothing. it didn’t make them strong enough to survive in the crows. and then she becomes guardians to lucanis and illario and she carries the guilt and the cycle continues. the lessons just have to be even harder this time, and then it will stick. what it creates instead is a man who doesn’t want anyone to suffer as he did, and the spare who is convinced what happened to his family was inevitable. house dellamorte is so cooked

[buckevantommy]

Everyone's always telling Buck what he should do. Okay, sometimes he did ask for their advice, but every piece of advice he's followed through on lately has ended badly and everything they tell him to do he doesn't actually want to do.

He should want to do something if it's supposed to make him feel better, if it's supposed to be better for him, right?

Josh told him to bulldoze ahead and tell Tommy what he wanted. Tommy told him to re-enact his Buck 1.0 days and spend time with some indeterminate amount of people until he finds someone forever. Maddie and Chim told him to start dating again and also wait for the universe to bring him someone special; another someone. Hen and Eddie told him not to contact Tommy.

He doesn't want to do any of that! He wants to talk to Tommy, to see him, to get Tommy to talk to him instead of giving up on them and running away because he's scared. He wants to tell Tommy he loves him. He wants Tommy to know first and last aren't mutually exclusive. He wants to yell at Tommy, and kiss him, and hold him. He wants Tommy to apologise for breaking his heart and for being a dumbass. He wants Tommy to believe him when he says he won't do the same; well, he might be a dumbass sometimes - but he would never break Tommy’s heart. He wants to apologise for jumping ahead but also not have to apologise for wanting a life with Tommy or for being too much.

Since that first night Tommy kissed him, he's felt reborn. Not in some starry-eyed way that Tommy seems to think is fake and won't last, but in the way that he's shed the skin of past Buck upgrades and finally grown into his body, become comfortable in who he is instead of trying to fit a facade that other people would accept. Always too big, too much, not enough, never content to just sit in his self and be without his worries and insecurities moulding him into something else, something with a better chance of getting people to like him, love him, stay with him. 

He’s never felt more himself or more at ease in a relationship that meant something to him than he did with Tommy. Never felt more wholly seen - the good, the bad, and the too-much and not enough - by his partner and adored anyway, wanted anyway.

Halfway through making swiss meringue buttercream instead of breakfast, he realises he's thinking about Tommy. His coping skill, as Bobby called it, has stopped working.

There's butter and sugar in the creases of his hands and nailbeds even after he hurriedly wipes them with the dishcloth over his shoulder. He can see it as he scoops up his phone from the charger and thumbs over to his message thread with Tommy, leaving greasy crumby residue on the screen.

i saw you bubbling

After it happened, after the Chief distracted everyone enough for him to grab his phone and retreat somewhere he wouldn't be disturbed, he'd stared at the space where the unsent message had appeared for twenty minutes waiting for the type bubble to reappear. Waiting for Tommy to hit send on whatever he'd backtyped.

Buck's mind had spiralled with all the possibilities and while it spiralled and he stared and waited he never got around to actually calling or texting Tommy himself. And then the bell rang.

He has time, now. He has things he wants to say.

you were going to tell me something an maybe i wont like what it was but just knowing you almost reached out is kinda driving me crazy bc i have a fridge full of baked goods bc everytime i think about calling you i bake and now i havnt cooked a proper meal in my own place in over a week bc i dont have room in my damn fridge to store anything besides chocholate chip bananan bread and baked alaskas

He wants to say: and it's all your fault! but that's not the whole truth. Buck played his part in this, set the wheels in motion that drove Tommy away from him. But how the hell was he supposed to know that? And Tommy should've known by now he doesn't really do 'slow'.

i'm not sorry for being too much bc i shouldnt haveto apologize for being myself

Screw it. Can't get any worse, right? Tommy's getting all of him whether he likes it or not.

i dont see you as some queer life coach or someone to fill space until someon else comes along

thats not who i am

i thought you knew me better than that but whatevr ig

i wanted to live with you bc i want a life with you bc i love you

i love you

i shouldve said that first

Send after send, typing like a man possessed, he gets out everything that's been pent up inside him since the shock wore off a week ago.

His chest is heaving as the adrenaline rushes through his veins. And his eyes sting. He has to blink away tears as he reads over the last message.

He never told Tommy. Tommy doesn't know. Maybe Buck wasn't sure that night Josh asked him, but he knows it now.

i wanted you to be my last

He still does.

i wanna hate you for giving up on us

but i cant seem to hate you

This whole thing would hurt a lot less if he could just hate Tommy for what he did. It would hurt a lot less if they could find a way through this mess, together, and come out the other side stronger because they know each other better and know they want to fight for what they have.

Real love is worth fighting for. Red taught him that. Real love isn’t found, it’s made. Old gay Thomas taught him that.

Well, Buck found Tommy. Or, the universe did. And he’s going to fight, dammit, because he wants to build a future with Tommy. 

His vision has blurred with hot tears. Movement on his screen catches his attention from where his gaze had drifted over to the couch where Tommy had stayed to take care of him through his Billy Boils saga.

Tommy is bubbling him.

Buck’s heart lurches in his chest. His breath catches.

can we talk?

There’s a huff of something like manic laughter as he swipes at his snotty nose.

that’s what i typed

Hope blooms in his chest, sudden and bright and painful in the best way.  

can we?

I think I owe it to you to yell at me in person

There’s a long moment where Buck tries to return his breathing to normal but its bated as he watches three little dots appear, then disappear. 

Then reappear. 

Then disappear.

Then:

I don’t want to give up on us either

Buck’s tears are still making his vision watery, but now they’re tears of joy. He did what he wanted to do - he reached out. And Tommy heard him.

He should take his own advice more often.

[nanenna]

Jeez Louise This is a Mess

Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post

Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.

---

John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.

John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”

Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”

“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.

“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”

Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.

The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.

“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.

“You would think so.”

The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…

“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”

“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.

“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”

“Will that work?”

“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”

Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.

Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”

“You don't know who I am?”

“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

“Then what do they call you?”

“How about you tell me your name first?”

“I’m Deadman.”

The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.

“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

The Fentons all shook their heads.

The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”

Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.

It did… well not much.

Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.

Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”

John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?

“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”

And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.

Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.

Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.

The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.

John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”

The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”

For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.

Everyone was staring at the display.

“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.

“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.

“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”

“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”

“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”

“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.

“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”

And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”

“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.

“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.

“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.

“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.

“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”

“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.

“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”

Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.

[pippin-katz]

Jayden, George & Cameos

Alright, maybe this is me being presumptuous, but I feel like I need to say something. I’m going to offer my two cents about the cameo situation.

I did not buy a cameo when George did it, but upon asking someone who did, they costed £40. The price of the joint cameo is evidently £80.

Is that too high of a price?

If you thought £40 for George’s cameo was fine, then you have to say “no”.

George by himself was £40. If Jayden made his own by himself, it would probably also be £40. Therefore, if you add them together, you get £80.

People need to understand that while they might have fun with the cameos, they are still working. Recording videos like that is exhausting, and if you don’t think so, you’ve clearly never done it. I have recorded reaction videos and after thoughts and stories for years, and I still get exhausted if I have to do a multiple part story, or do it over and over until I’m satisfied.

Now, I know a lot of people are peeved more about the phrasing of these joint cameos as a “gift for the fans” when the price might be out of budget for a lot of people.

But if you are throwing a tantrum over it, you need to sit the fuck down, and check your damn privilege.

It is a gift.

They don’t have to do this. They literally don’t. They don’t have to interact with us. They don’t have to post anything. They owe you nothing.

Instead, they have taken the time out of their days, their schedules, whatever they might be busy with, or even if they’re relaxing, and they’ve decided to record video messages for you.

Not to mention, do you even understand what they are putting themselves in risk of emotionally or mentally?

The very first thing that came to a LOT of people’s minds when this was announced was: “I hope no one asks them to kiss because we’ll never get Payneland.”

If you didn’t think that, congratulations! You have apparently been fortunate enough not to encounter what real Internet behavior is like. Or maybe you’re new to a fandom space, and this is your first time! Great!

You might be thinking: “No one would actually do that; at least not in this fandom!”

But the truth of the matter is that there are many people who would and probably WILL do that.

The anonymous nature of the Internet has enable millions, and I mean millions, of people to act on and voice their most disgusting and disturbing thoughts. The content or person does not always reflect on the people who digest or interact with it. There are monsters everywhere; they are in every space whether you encounter them or not.

By being online all of us open ourselves up to the risk of people attacking us or exposing us to things we do not enjoy or want. For people of any level of fame, it’s multiplied tenfold.

George and Jayden can turn off direct messages, block people, mute tags, and whatnot, so they can avoid most attempts to reach them. By offering these cameos, they are giving a direct route for people to type whatever the hell they want into their message, and whether they like it or not, they’ll probably be reading it.

This is an open invitation for those awful people to request anything, to say anything, to ask anything, even if they report it and don’t respond, they’ll likely see it.

Invasive questions about their sexualities, their relationships, their personal lives. Disgusting thirst messages. Disturbing requests asking for specific things to act as a replacement or substitute for what we would’ve liked to see in the show.

Anything and everything you can think of is possibly something they will encounter, and they’re willing to take that risk to give you something special. To talk directly to you, even if it’s only for a minute.

It’s become increasingly clear, to me at least, that Jayden is a sensitive soul. Not in a “can’t take a joke” way, or in any condescending way. He’s just kind. He’s kind in a way that is taken advantage of in online spaces. He’s also young. A lot of this is still new to him.

He apologizes like it’s his fault if his stream chat gets some bad people in it. He was talking about how he wanted to continue playing Detroit: Become Human really badly, but felt like we would be upset if he didn’t stream his entire play-through. He asked for a list of names of people who support him on Twitch, their usernames and actual names, because he wanted to keep track of them.

Jayden was really excited about the joint cameos. He looked so thrilled to talk about it, and was looking forward to hanging out with George, and doing this for fans.

When fans turned around and yelled about prices, it probably crushed him! Instead of reciprocated excitement, he got bitterness and hate. And for something that he might not even have control over, mind you.

It feels like he can never do enough to make fans happy.

It’s not his fault the show was canceled, but he probably feels just as bad about it as we all do! It’s disappointing! It’s upsetting! And he wanted to do it! But he can’t, and that has to feel frustrating as someone passionate about what they do.

It’s not his fault some fans are toxic or judgmental of every interaction he has with his community. It’s not his fault that people spread hate.

But it probably feels like he can at least put a stop to it by not continuing to do any of it. If he just stops streaming, no toxic chats. If he stops talking to fans, no people complaining about favoritism.

I don’t blame him for wanting to walk away entirely.

To wrap this up, if you have anything disrespectful to say about the boys or this situation, do us all a favor and keep your damn mouth shut.

I expected better from this fandom than behaving like entitled children. We’ve gained thousands of signatures, rallied together to buy a billboard for this show, but we can’t maintain a supportive space for the actors? How do you expect us to succeed in saving this show if we can’t even do that?

To make a long story short (too late), fans, do fucking better.

[midnight-soulless-system]

Paywall free link

Love this, and I'm glad that they bring up misandry/transmisandry even if they don't use the words, but I am confused about one thing that it said. It acts as if trans men don't face prejudice for wanting to be men? Or at least that's how I interpreted this paragraph.

"Trans men, in contrast, are often viewed as women who are aspiring toward manhood. They still get their gender invalidated, and they have to navigate misogyny, but their motives are at least understandable in a world where masculinity is superior. Like hyper-masculine gay men, trans men can sometimes receive a pass from some oppression for at least trying to become the societal ideal. But because they cannot ever match that ideal, both trans women and gay male “sissies” are the subject of dehumanization and disgust."

Because I know personally I am often subject to dehumanization and disgust just as much as my soley (i apologize for not knowing how to spell that) transfeminine peers. I don't know if this is due to me being intersex and transfemmasc, or if this article is just erasing the violence trans men go through as well. And the way I've been reading it, it acts like trans men aren't targets of transmisogyny either, which is just not true? If I'm reading it wrong, please let me know!

Also does anyone have the direct results to the study? I would like to go over the reponses, questions, etc. myself and study this further! I love how the article explains the nuances and bias of the results. Unfortunately I don't see that very often in studies anymore.

Also, I think a main part of why trans women get such blatant bigotry thrown against them is due to the erasure of trans men, which the article also talks about. Although the article fails to understand what trans men are fighting for when we talk about transmisandry. We aren't saying it's worse, we're just trying to get our voices heard and have people recognize that there are many times where transfems have internalized misandry and then project that onto transmen. This is the same for trans men projecting misogyny onto trans women, but that is more talked about and seen than transmisandry is, and the experiences aren't fundamentally different, because it is all linked. It's interesting to see how, after they acknowledge in the beginning transmisandry, they then later on go to say that it's fake when they describe it IN DETAIL earlier on and claim it's transmisogyny, when it is not. It also ignores the fact that when people that are perceived as women dress masculine, they aren't respected. It is in fact the opposite, because we are still viewed as women. Masculinity is seen as bad by many, and so transmen and butch people often experience mockery, violence, and general hatred for being masculine. What they are talking about is proffesional clothing, such as long dresses, pants, and montone clothes.

And on the trans reproductive things, that would be a case of transmisandry/misogyny, most likely due to the fact that almost always, trans men are seen as women who like to try and act tough.

And now that I have gotten to the end of the article it seems that it started off strong and just... spiraled. At the end it used intersexist language and now I am just dissapointed.

It sucks to see that something that could've been a great article and started off wonderful delved into transmisandry and intersexism. Probably should've read the whole thing through before writing this, but now I guess you get to see what happened. Even the link that defines TME/TMA terms recognizes that they are intersexist, but it fails on explaining why this is. It is not that it is used as a replacement for agab, but that it ignores the nuance of bigotry that everyone, but especially intersex people, face.

omg did not expect to see “we have mainstream research evidence for transmisogyny now” this morning but happy friday?? thanks dr. devon price for pre-digesting it

and of course there’s the angle of, well lmfao yes trans women have been saying this in mainstream print since at least 2007 and doubtlessly in other fora for much longer, but sometimes an argument from authority has more force and how do we emotionally reckon with ongoing lack of agency in conversations about us, but i digressss

[valenrixo]

First of all, your yandere Femboy was great I loved the little gremlin energy <3

How about a yandere sugar baby turned househusband? Just a spoiled brat

Please remember that the most important thing when writing is to have fun<3

Yandere sugar house husband!

Thank you for your kind words! Unfortunately I cannot moot u even if I wanted to because this is a second acc! (The main one is for irls)

Yandere sugar baby who hated your guts at first. You’d be so rough with him! Choking him and teasing him during intimate times…he liked it

Yandere sugar baby who came to your work one day and saw your assistant flirting with you and something snapped in him. Suddenly your assistant is desperately putting in their two week notice.

Yandere sugar baby who now drags you out to have lunch with him, this idiot doesn’t even know that he loves you yet he just wants you to be his.

Yandere sugar baby who after a night of intimacy found himself drooling at the sight of you.

“Damn it! They will get me pregnant and defy biology!” He thought banging his fists against the sheets. It caused a raised eyebrow from you and he stopped.

Yandere sugar fiancé who finally realized he was in love with you when you took care of an injury of his, now he basically doesn’t let you leave the bed whenever you’re off work

Yandere sugar fiancé who manipulates you by searching up rings on your business computer while you were getting coffee and pretended like he found it in your search history.

“Gasp! You really love me, you better pick out the best ring!” He cooed hugging your arms. Now you had to get it….you really didn’t want to deal with him crying.

Yandere sugar husband who realized soon after the wedding that he had tasks he had to do now.

Yandere sugar husband who can’t cook at all but please stop looking at him with disappointment! He’ll try better!

Yandere sugar husband who soon finds out how to cook simple craft Mac and cheese so you eat that a lot.

Yandere sugar husband who now finds enjoyment looking at kitchen supplies and cleaning supplies.

“Isn’t this a bit stereotypical…? You become a house husband and you suddenly like cleaning supplies? Is this really what your life is like now Lieo?”

“I don’t care! Look at this new type of scrub daddy!” He said picking up the packaging and shoving it in your face. You actually started worrying about him…

Yandere sugar husband who whenever you get hit on clears his throat obnoxiously and shoved your matching rings in their face before he forces you to put the hand on his waist.

Yandere sugar husband who starts being more spoiled, why have you been more gentle with him in the bedroom recently?! He craves the pain! He throws a fit when you’re too nice…sometimes it wrecks the mood..

Yandere sugar husband who demands the cutest aprons and decorations for any holiday, what do you mean he doesn’t need another 100 foot Christmas light package?? It’s on sale!

He bit your once because you cooked breakfast instead of him….he sobbed out sorrys and other apologies as he kissed it better.

Yandere sugar husband who really needs to find hobbies now, maybe get him back into dance like before?

Requests open! Please read rules! This got even longer wowiwowowow!

[euphorix-moon]

Love Maze

Vi x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Helping Vi realize that she can break out of this loop that's she's in

Warning: Slightly Angsty and slightly out of character

A/n: Arcane season 2 just came out and i'm still reeling from everything, just had to make this cause i was inspired by episode 3 it broke my CaitVi heart

It was just one of those days,

There weren't many days where you would get the house all to yourself to enjoy so you didn't waste the chance to relax when your roommate said she was going out to run some errands.

You were currently enjoying your day re-reading through your favorite book series until you were disturbed by a sudden knock at the door.

You skeptical and slightly annoyed you went to go answer the door. Opening the door is when you came face to face with the pink-haired woman you came to know as Vi. She almost looked slightly surprised to see you at the door but kept her composure

"Is she here ? " Vi asked worriedly

"Hi nice to see you too, but unfortunately your girlfriend isn't here, she went out to do some stuff" you replied

She lightly sighs before saying, "Well if that's the case then I guess I'll wait for her till she gets back. That's fine with you, right ?" She says walking through the door before you can get a response out. You sigh closing the door behind you knowing she would stay and wait either way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you guys so you took it upon yourself to try and get a conversation going.

"So....what brings you here ?..Is it the same issue again ?"

Vi glares at you but after some time does lightly nods her head to confirm your suspicions. You kept quiet lightly sighing to yourself.

The cycle had become almost predictable at this point: a fight would ignite, Caitlyn would storm off ghosting Vi, and then, a few days later, Vi would return, offering half-hearted apologies that seemed to smooth things over just enough to delay the inevitable crash. Caitlyn never seemed to learn, and neither did Vi. But the truth was, they both were just playing the same tired game, and you wanted all this nonsense to come to an end once and for all.

Here,” you said, slipping behind the counter to make a couple of drinks. “Let’s take the edge off. I’m sure you could use something stronger than water right now.”

Vi didn't argue. She sank down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, clearly exhausted from everything. As you handed her the glass, you kept your tone light, almost casual. "So, how's work? How’s your family? Anything to distract you from… well, everything?"

She gave a weak laugh, taking a sip of her drink. "Work’s fine. Same as usual. Nothing exciting," she muttered, looking down at her hands, clearly distracted. "Family’s... okay. You know how it is, always got something goin on"

You nodded, pretending to listen, but your mind was already working. "Yeah, I get that. But seriously, when’s the last time you actually did something for you, Vi? Like, something that made you feel alive? Not just for Cait, or for your job, but for yourself?"

That was a hook. Vi wasn’t even aware of it. She leaned forward, a little too eager to talk about herself, to talk about anything that didn’t involve the draining mess she was in. She starts going into detail about the many things she's been interested in but never got the chance to due to feeling like she's alway has to balance a thousand things in her life.

"Well if I'm gonna be real honest with you Violet, it sounds like this relationship is just another thing holding you back" you say with sincerity.

"It’s just... it’s not that simple, okay? Violet shot back.

me and her have history. We’ve been through a lot together. And—" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yeah, things have been tough lately. But we love each other. I know she has her issues, but I really think we can fix this. I don’t want to just... give up on everything we’ve built."

You almost rolled your eyes at the word history—as if that was supposed to make everything else okay.

"Vi," ."You’ve been ‘fixing’ things for months now. You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, that Cait’s going to change, that things will get better. But they never do. You are stuck in a loop and you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong."

"So, what? You want me to just leave her? After everything? You’re not even trying to help me,You’re supposed to be my friend. You should be supporting me in making this work, not... pushing me away from her!"Vi’s jaw clenched, her chest rising and falling with each breath as if she was holding back.

Her words stung just a little bit but you knew how to respond back. "I am doing this because i care enough to tell you the truth Vi, you deserve so much better than this. Don't let Caitlyn stress you out so much, especially when there's already a lot on your plate".

"You just don't get it. You don’t know what she's like when we’re together,” she says, still feeling obligated to defend her relationship.

"Maybe i don't and i might be wrong about all of this, but all I'm saying is that if you were my girlfriend id be the one coming to apologize and id try to find every possible way to make it up to you." You say leaning closer towards Vi

She sputters trying to find the words to defend herself, every single word unfortunately dying in her throat.

"I’d be the one begging you for another chance after acting like a dumbass. I'd spoil you and not let you do anything till you forgave me" You continued.

The silence that fell between you and Vi after your last words was thick with unspoken things. Vi feels as if her heart is beating out her chest as you continue to close the distance between the two of you guys.

"You do deserve better, Vi," you said, your voice soft but certain. "And when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Not just as your friend, but... more than that, if you want. You don’t need Cait to feel loved. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looked at you, her eyes wide, and in that moment, it was like everything clicked for her

You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to show her that everything she needed wasn’t in Cait. That there was more for her. That she didn’t have to settle.

Just as you leaned forward, your lips barely inches from hers, the door to the room creaked open, and the sudden sound of keys jingling at the front door broke the fragile bubble that had formed between the two of you.

You two quickly back away from each other, moving to the opposite sides of the couch, averting eyes as Caitlyn walks into the room

A/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger and sorry to all the caitvi shippers, i love them too...i just can't pretend that i wouldn't want vi if they broke up fr.

[rauspberries]

Hard Day's Work

In which you decide to visit the firehouse for some help and end up walking out with a boyfriend... kind of.

Part two of What a Feeling, could be a stand-alone if you want.

evan buckley x fem!reader, fake dating (kinda), season one evan buckley, start of something new, evan buckley is a FLIRT WC: 2k+

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“Can you mount a TV?”

You hadn’t expected Buck to say yes. You definitely hadn’t expected him to excitedly nod his head, handing over his phone for you to put your number in so that he could visit your apartment after shift. He had apologized profusely for not being able to do it right that moment, claiming that Captain Nash had already been getting on to him for disappearing during shift and he didn’t want to put himself in more hot water. Not even for his fake girlfriend, he had remarked with a playful smirk and a wink that had almost melted you into a puddle right then and there.

Now, you paced in your kitchen, thankful that you had cleaned the entire place before you had lumbered your way over to the 118. The last thing your racing, nervous heart needed was running around your apartment to quickly pick up the laundry you had scattered about and the dishes you had left in the sink. 

The time between getting home and the end of Buck’s shift seemed like forever and even longer. You moved from the kitchen counter to your bathroom floor to the living room couch, doom-scrolling on your phone to try and distract your mind. You went from the opinion that this was stupid, you should text and cancel to the daydreaming of what this could become. A handsome firefighter in your apartment, doing housework that you needed… 

It was a scene out of one of the romance novels you tended to read.

You were brought out of your dumb dream by a few, hestiant knocks on your door, immediately lifting your head. Your heart started thumping against your rib cage again, the same queasy waves of butterflies that had originally sprouted when you got home coming back in full force. Your hands shake as you wipe them on your jeans, getting off of the couch and making your way towards the door.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you run your fingers through your hair once more before pulling the door open, eyes widening as you come face-to-face with Buck’s fist. He had been in the midst of knocking again due to your hesitance to open the door, you notice.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I-I thought you maybe hadn’t heard my knocking, you know, since it was kinda quiet the first time. Uhm.” Buck clears his throat, a soft silence hanging in the air before he raises his arm, the toolbox in his hand clunking at the movement. “I brought my own tools. Didn’t know if you had your own or not. I had to stop by the hardware store for a few things, like a hammer, a drill… Well, honestly, all of it, but it’s okay.” 

He winces at the way he had been rambling, his tongue suddenly feeling heavy in his mouth. He had talked too much. He tended to do that when he was nervous.

You let out a soft laugh, holding the door open a bit wider as you step to the side. You’re glad to see that this situation is just as awkward for him as it is for you. It makes your heartbeat a little bit slower. “Would you like to come in?”

Buck rolls his lips into his mouth to keep himself from speaking any more, nodding as he steps into your apartment. His cerulean eyes take a wide glance around everything, making you feel like you had just split your chest open and revealed everything to him. 

You look around just as he does, wondering what he thinks when he sees your blue couch, so out of place against the white wall it sat against. You deliberate if he thinks the decorative pillows you’ve collected over the years are excessive, or if he’s internally laughing about the stuffed animals that perch in their own respective spots. You almost feel embarrassed by the posters on the wall, the memorabilia from posters and fake street signs covering every inch, until you realize that it’s just a great way for him to get to know you without going through all of the chitchat.

After his initial survey is over, he turns towards you, a ghost of a grin playing on his lips. “I’m assuming the TV you want put up is the one sitting on the box?”

A groan leaves your lips at the idea of how silly it looks, letting the ball of your hand rub into your eye. “That’s the one. And the only one, I promise. Living alone, I only need a TV in my living room, although it does end up with me sleeping on the couch more often than not.”

Buck’s chest rumbles with a low laugh as he steps forward, setting his toolbox on the ground and unlocking it. “It does look like a very comfortable couch. It has a lot of friends on it, too.” The tease falls off of his tongue effortlessly, his eyes finding your face to check and make sure it didn’t pinch a nerve.

Instead, you just laugh, shaking your head as you move into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Don’t people usually give lemonade to construction workers?” You mumble out loud, opening your fridge and peering into it. Again, you’re grateful for your productivity earlier in the day as you eye the fullness of it.

Another chuckle comes from the man behind you, the sound of a drill whirring following. “Are you calling me a construction worker?” He jokes, the light-heartedness having eased the tension of a first meeting.

“Shut up,” you retort. Pulling the gallon of raspberry lemonade you had stored in the fridge, you pour it into two of your nicest glasses, shutting the cabinet quickly so that he couldn’t even attempt to get a glance at all of the funny cups you had collected. 

You carry the glasses around the island just as Buck finishes drilling the mounting bracket into the wall, working a lot quicker than you thought he would. A pang of disappointment hits you directly in the chest at the idea of him leaving both your apartment and your life way too soon. 

“Does this look right?” He asks, looking over at you questioningly before back at the mount. “Even? Is it where you want it? I can move it and fill in the holes with spackle if it’s not right, you just have to let me know.” The worry in his tone has you grinning, letting your mind wander to the incredulous idea that he wanted to come back and do more stuff for you, just to see you again.

Handing him his glass, you shake your head. “It looks fine, Buck. As long as I can see my TV from my couch, I really do not mind where it is,” you add. You look up at him with a smile, heart jolting as his lips pull into a handsome smile.

He breaks the eye contact he had with you as he steps towards the island, setting down his glass before rolling up his sleeve. You admire the tattoos among his forearms as he talks, only to shake your head when you realize you haven’t registered a single thing he said. “Huh?”

Buck laughs knowingly, shaking his head. “I said, will you help me lift? As much as I’d love to do it all by myself so you could sit yourself comfortably on the couch, I can’t hold the whole thing on my own.” He quirks a brow, watching you closely.

You nod dumbly as you set your drink down, rolling up the sleeves on your sweater. “I’m able to do some physical work by myself, I guess.” You groan playfully, crouching down to grab the bottom corner of your TV.

As soon as Buck has his hands on the other side, he counts down from three, both of you lifting until the back of the TV is aligned with the mount he had already drilled into the wall. You hold it silently as he secures it to the mount, only letting go once he gives you a soft nod.

Both of you step back as soon as you confirm that it's sturdy on the wall, hands on your hips as you take it in. Buck had gotten it right the first try. The TV was level, not even slightly dipping on the side, and it hung perfectly fine on her wall. 

Turning to face him, you give him a grin. “We did it.”

“We? Are you sure?” Buck teases, crossing his arms over his chest. You swear he does it just to taunt you, your eyelids fluttering as you look down before immediately looking right back up at his eyes.

“I gave you the lemonade,” you retort playfully. You gesture at the cups on your island, brow quirking in a dare for him to challenge you.

He doesn’t, opting with giving you a playful roll of his eyes. Another soft silence falls over the both of you, neither one wanting to say the words that’d end your time together. It almost makes you want to start breaking stuff, just to ask him to fix it and stay a bit longer so you could pick his brain about everything that was Evan Buckley.

Buck breaks the silence with a slightly sheepish grin, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces you. “I guess that’s it. Unless you have anything else you need help with.” The last bit comes out as a slight purr as he takes a step forward, invading your space as his cologne washes over you. It smells like man, all woodsy and absolutely alluring, especially when it's paired with the way he looks directly into your eyes, staring into your soul.

Unfortunately, you cannot come up with an excuse to keep him there. You shake your head in disappointment, a frown pulling at your lips. “I don’t think so.”

A soft hum of discontent leaves his lips as he somehow gets even closer, his chest just an inch from yours. “That’s a shame.”

“Why?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, the question meek in tone. Something about the way he loomed over you, all six foot two of him, was intimidating, but not in a way that scared you. It was exciting, it was fun. Directness from Buck was frightening, in a way that caused a shiver to travel up your spine. Goosebumps covered your arms so fast that you quickly moved to pull your sleeves back down.

You had never been one to flirt. Men usually came to you, even if they tended to be grimey and gross. Even with that, all it took was a good smile, a few well-timed words and boom. You had ‘em right where you wanted them. But with Buck, it was a game. It was equal attraction, not an ounce more on his side than on yours. It was a competition – who could break first.

His arm raised slowly, fingertips trailing along the back of your hand until he finally cradled your fingers in his palm. “I’d love to spend more time with you,” he admitted. The flirty tone in his voice has your chin tilting up towards him subconsciously, although you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it. You notice that his own head is tilting down towards yours, his nose skirting against yours tauntingly. “I think I just thought of something you could fix. I can’t handle it myself.” You tease, your lips tilting up at the corners in a smile. He urges you on with a raise of his eyebrows, your smile turning into a pout. “My lips. They hurt.” You feel childish saying it, but you brush off the sheepishness as it works.

Buck chuckles quietly, raising his hand and sliding it along your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he cups the back of it. “I can fix that, I think.” His grip tightens as he angles your head back more, making it easy for him to press his lips against yours, dainty and gentle.

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[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Regret - MYG

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 2.1k+

Summary: 

"Caught in a daze, I persuade her with my own complications"

Alternatively, 

For the first time in his 31 years of life - Min Yoongi is regretting.  And the reason behind his regret circles around you.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Angst, Yoongi is very confused about his own feelings, mentions of smoking, Gyuri is kind of manipulating, ngl.

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are closed for now

A/N: Yoongi's pov. Finally!

Read the next chapter

One thing Yoongi could always silently brag about is that he never regretted any of his decisions. 

He didn’t regret his choices when he dropped out of university and auditioned for Big hit to become a producer. 

He didn’t regret the outcomes when he decided to cut all ties with his parents and left the broken house. 

He didn’t regret when he fell for Gyuri despite knowing it would be rocky to date an idol. 

He didn’t regret when Gyuri left him - yes he mourned and mourned - but he never regretted not stopping her. He never regretted not begging her to stay. 

But for the first time in his 31 years of life - Min Yoongi is regretting. 

And the reason behind his regret circles around you. 

These days when he sees you breezing past him through the corridors of the building - not paying him any of your attention - he regrets not choosing his words more carefully that day. 

When he gets to know that you have taken yet another afternoon off for some personal reasons - he regrets not telling you that he cares, that he wants to be there for you, that he could do anything possible if it means you will be helped. 

Now as he stands in front of the HR head trying to press her more and more to know about your emergency - he regrets again. 

He regrets not having enough power over her to dig out the truth behind your frequent disappearances. 

“For the last time, Yoongi-ssi, I can’t provide you with any details.” The HR head speaks in an authoritative tone, pushing her glasses on the bridge of her nose as if to punctuate her sentence. 

“But at least you can tell me what is the nature of her leaves, right? As her immediate superior I have the right to know.” Yoongi presses on his point. 

The HR sighs, even though she is irritated with Yoongi’s constant presence in her office, she can’t deny the fact that he is right - that much Yoongi can tell. 

“Medical leaves.” she replies briefly, unwilling to form a full sentence.

Something shatters inside Yoongi’s otherwise empty heart. For a moment, he finds it hard to inhale oxygen.

“Me-medical leaves? As in frequent check-ups?” his voice comes out choked, as if he is speaking beneath a heap of unused clothes. 

“I can’t tell you anything more. Apologies.” 

The rest - Yoongi decides to know it from you. 

Yoongi is not a smoker, he only needs a drag when he has worries to release from his veins. 

And right now - he has a ton of those. 

First, you have been ignoring him. Yoongi knows this is the only rational thing to do but it unsettles him regardless. It pushes him in a spiral of negative thoughts which he expected not to face anymore. 

Second, you have been to the hospital three times in one and half months, which is certainly not good news. Something must be royally wrong with you to be in contact with the doctor this frequently. 

Third, Yoongi is afraid. Even though he is reluctant to admit it - he is afraid of losing you. He is afraid of losing you as a friend, a confidant or as someone much more than he dares to confess. He is also afraid of you deciding not to show-up here in the terrace despite him practically begging you to come, to talk to him, to fucking show him your face so that he can finally breathe. 

Soft thud of footsteps echo behind him and his heart starts mimicking the sound inside his chest. When he turns around he sees you standing under the setting sun, looking more beautiful than ever. 

His breath now hitches for completely different reasons. 

“Hey. you came” Yoongi calls out. His voice shaved off the emotions that are currently ruling his entire being. 

“You wanted to talk.” You reply, finally starting to take careful steps towards him. Yoongi wishes he could run to you and wrap you in a hug. 

He crushes his cigarette under his boot as he waits for you to come closer. 

“Yeah. but the way you have been ignoring me, I didn’t think you would come.” he voices truthfully but omits the part where he wants to say that you drifting apart from him - freaks him out even more. 

You stay silent, choose to look away from him, towards the expanse of the free space - as if he is not even there, as if he is invisible. 

Yoongi realizes, your nonchalance hurts him. 

“Y/N, what's wrong? I heard you have been taking leaves for regular checkups at the hospital? Are you… are you hurting?” he continues, voice breaking with worry and fear. 

“I am fine, Yoongi. But I don’t understand what is up with you? Why are you suddenly so worried about me? Why are you suddenly caring as if… as if I mean something to you?” you ask, devoid of any emotions.

Yoongi’s heart breaks even more. 

“I have always cared about you.” finally.. Yoongi admits. There is more he wants to say but he decides to close his mouth for now. Everything has a time and for you - he will wait. 

“But that was when we were- we were sleeping, right? Now you don’t have any obligations towards me. So please. Please stop confusing me. Please stop making me a fool.” 

Oh. so you think he cares for you because you let him fuck you? Is that what you think of him? Is that how you picture him? 

“How is this even confusing, Y/N? Friends care for each other. Don’t they?” Yoongi’s voice weaves and he tries to justify how much more you are than you think. To him, you are not a fleeting chapter but a whole book that he cherishes with the cost of his life. 

You chuckle dryly, “sadly enough, you are not just my friend. I am in love with you and you know that too.”

Yoongi’s skin burns.  

This. This. He has been waiting for you to finally utter these words. And now as you do so, there is resignation in your voice, it is as if you have given up on him. 

He lets your wrist go. He doesn’t even know when he held it in the first place. 

He takes a step away from you. Ready to tell you that he is not ready yet. Ready to tell you that he doesn’t know what he feels for you. Ready to tell you that he wants to try regardless. 

But before he can, you speak again, “I know. I know you don’t- You don’t have to. I just- I am a fool. I am sorry.” Now you are sobbing uncontrollably. Yoongi’s own eyes get blurry. 

He has never seen you cry before. And he decides he doesn’t want to ever again. 

Yoongi takes a step towards you, holding you by your shoulder. 

“Y/N” he starts but you jerk him off from your body and run away in the opposite direction. 

Should he follow you? Or should he give you some time to calm down? If he follows you would your condition deteriorate? But if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t then would he lose you? 

Yoongi decides to go behind you. 

Just when he takes a step, another voice comes from behind. 

“Yoongi! You are here! I have been looking for you on every damned floor.” Gyuri whines. 

She comes to stand in front of him. 

Yoongi doesn’t feel anything. 

Actually, what he feels is relief. He needs to tell her that he doesn’t want to associate himself with her anymore. He needs to tell her that there is someone who is now more important. 

“Gyuri. Let’s end this.” he comes straight to the point. 

The vibrant smile that was prominent in Gyuri’s face vanishes right away. 

“W-what? Why suddenly-”

“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. I think going separate ways is the best option for us.” Yoongi replies, cold and stoic, just as he used to be with everyone. 

“N-No, Yoongi. Don’t.” she clutches his tshirt with both of her hands, starts sobbing hard. 

But again, Yoongi doesn’t feel anything. 

“Gyuri, pleas-” 

He gets cut off as Gyuri raises on her feet and places her lips on his. He is too taken aback that he doesn’t even get to push her away. 

When she kisses him, all he can think of is you - your lips, your body, how you felt around him, you letting him cry on your arms, you holding him on - you, you, you, only you! 

He finally pushes Gyuri off. 

“I’m sorry. I need to go.” he mumbles, rushing away as far away from her as possible. 

Yoongi stares at the wood of your door more or less blankly. 

There are a ton of questions going round and round in his mind - questions that no one can answer for him. 

Questions like - why did he come here? What is he going to say when you ask him? How would he justify his behavior earlier? Is he going to tell you that he left Gyuri behind for you? And what if you ask why did he do so? What if you ask - what do you mean to him? 

He considers turning his heels and running away but the thought of you secretly hurting and being under constant medical observation stops him at his place.

His finger hovers above the doorbell but he is not sure if he should ring this or not, you might not even want to open the door seeing it’s him. 

But he needs to see you - he wants to see you. 

So he does what he wouldn’t do to anyone else in the entire world. He tesspasses your property. 

Punching the door code that he came to know from all his night visits at your place - he opens the door and enters your apartment. 

But as soon as he is inside - his blood runs cold.

You are sitting on the couch, your face is buried in the chest of an unknown male who is holding you by your back and patting on your head. You look like you are sobbing. 

If Yoongi’s heart drops in his stomach with a fear of something he doesn’t even know the name of - then he chooses not to dwell upon it. 

“Y/N? Who- who is this?” his mouth reacts faster than his brain and all of a sudden he regrets asking you the question -  he is not brave enough to hear the answer. 

You still don’t look up. 

The other man pulls himself out of your embrace gently, cradles your face in his hand and makes you look at him. 

Your eyes are bloodshot, you look so weak, so sick and it makes Yoongi want to die. 

“Y/N..” the man calls you just as gently, “is he…?” he doesn’t complete the question. You seem to get him anyway - You nod a yes. 

Then the man turns his head to look at him - his eyes say he is not really impressed with Yoongi’s presence in your territory. 

“From your place it may look like something personal but I am Y/N’s doctor. I am here for her medical advisory.” The man says in a firm professional tone. 

Relief washes over Yoongi’s entire being. 

“Doctor - is she alright? Is she hurting a lot?” Yoongi takes a few steps towards the couch. 

The doctor squeezes your shoulder, and mumbles “allow me to tell him?” 

As a response - you only sob harder. 

“Doctor, what is wrong with her? Please -” 

“Y/N just had a miscarriage. She was three weeks pregnant.” the doctor replies, cutting him off. 

A calculation runs in his head - and all the equations fit right in. 

That night when he came to break off the arrangement - he didn’t use any protection. You never mentioned anything about being on birth-control either. 

So… it means - The baby was his? 

If Yoongi could sum up in words about how he is feeling currently then he would compare the experience to facing an avalanche. He feels as if cold snow clouds have broken right above his head and he is getting buried under thick snow inch by inch.

“I think you two have some talking to do … but I would request you not to stress her at all. She is very weak as it is.” the Doctor warns him as he takes his bag and packs up his equipment. 

“Y/N.. call me if you need anything, okay?” the man says, patting on your head one last time before making his way towards the door. 

You still don’t look at Yoongi. 

Once the doctor is out of the door, you murmur something in your weak voice. 

“The baby… it was yours.” that’s what you say before you break into another loud sob. 

Before Yoongi knows his legs give up and he falls on his knees hitting the carpeted floor of your apartment. 

The baby was his. 

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[hallowpen]

The Concepts of Community & Family as it Relates to Thai Buddhism in Peaceful Property

I really really enjoyed watching this series. I am someone who grew disillusioned with Buddhism at a young age for very personal reasons, only to find my own version of a relationship with it as I grew older and learned to appreciate it from a different perspective. So the spiritual meaning behind this series really resonated with me.

I can only explain things to the best of my personal knowledge, so my apologies if anything is factually incorrect.

There are four basic tenets that one must cultivate in order to achieve true happiness. They are known as the brahmavihara (พรหมวิหาร). 1 - Metta (เมตตา): Literally translating to mean 'goodwill', it is a genuine concern for the well-being of others. 2 - Karuna (กรุณา): Literally translating to mean 'compassion', it is the recognition of another's suffering as one's own and a selfless desire for that suffering to end. 3 - Mutita (มุทิตา): Literally translating to mean 'kindliness', it is the feeling of experiencing sincere gratification from the happiness and success of others, regardless of self-contribution. 4 - Ubeka (อุเบกขา): Literally translating to mean 'equanimity', it is the ability to remain impartial combined with the understanding the we cannot mitigate the personal karma of others.

Essentially, the brahmavihara teaches us to always place others above ourselves... while realizing that they will be responsible for facing their own consequences if they fail to do the same.

How does this play into the "family" dynamics that exist in PP? Oddly enough there are certain facets of Buddhism that preach 'anti-family' values, as family can be one's primary source of attachment and suffering. There is a quote that states, "Family is the blood that burdens you." However, when a familial bloodline has lost its way (or in this case, has been "cursed"), Buddhism encourages surrounding yourself with a community that is organized on a familial basis... what we would call 'sangha' or 'found family'. Valuing the members of that found family above corrupt ideology would realign one's path toward enlightenment. Or in simpler terms, the people we choose to surround ourselves with can spiritually save us from ourselves.

Home's family has been "cursed" by the three poisons of Buddhism: greed, hatred, and ignorance. Phon's greed and value of worldly possessions over others has led her down of path of literal darkness, toward a belief in the occult. Somkid's hatred toward his father has fueled his deceptive behaviors... which he saw as a way to reclaim a father's love (that he believed he never received) from the people who didn't deserve it. Home's grandfather was ignorant as to how his actions, or lack thereof, affected the family that surrounded him.

Home's own version of ignorance would have led to his own karmic downfall. The series does a great job of having Home slowly discover the true meaning of home by integrating him within a 'found family' that teaches him the values of the brahmavihara... which ultimately leads to his spiritual 'awakening' (in a sense).

Metta/Karuna: Communicating with and healing the souls of the spirits the group encounter, requires compassion and understanding... a sense of community/sangha that these spirits and Chobkol (the magician) were lacking.

There were several instances of compassion born out of goodwill, the most obvious being between Home and Peach. Forgiveness is a big deal in Thai Buddhism. It is one of the cornerstones of what we refer to as "harmonious justice", as it promotes ideals of true selflessness. Peach forgiving Home because he's seen the changes in Home and how this one action does not define who Home actively wants to become was really really important. Home and Peach exist in balance of one another... keeping them on a shared karmic path where Home can no longer 'turn a blind eye' to his family's injustices (we could get into that more, but that'll make this even longer than it already is 😜😜😜). I think having Tay and New take on these roles to almost ease the minds of non-Buddhist viewers toward a more Buddhist ideology was actually quietly genius.

Sangha is also what heals the vengeance in Kan's heart, born of the teachings of Metta: "We must refrain from inflicting suffering upon one another and be free from vengeance." It could have been woven into the narrative with a bit more finesse... but I digress.

Ubeka: Home accepts the rightfully directed anger and complaints against him and his family for the harm they have caused. His partiality toward his family, simply because he is related to them, disappears. He stands against his aunt and fights against his uncle at the risk of his own life. And he does so by still allowing them to face the karmic consequences of their own terrible crimes... whether they are at peace with it or not.

Mutita: Home celebrates Peach's dreams above his own wishes... without knowing that they would eventually coincide. I could even argue that their eventual correlation could be a result of Home's 'good karma' paying forward.

Home had to reevaluate his core morals in order to be free of his family's curse (meaning within himself). All these representations of Buddhist notions, born from within his newfound family, are what define Home's idea of the true meaning of home... and happiness.

[crowinkwriting]

Something New Part 2

[I didn't expect to turn this into a multichapter story... but here we are. Anyways here's more of baby Dante. That is the baby's name. Also shout out too @earthfire-75 for giving me the idea to highlight Spite's dialog in purple. Genius.]

Lucanis held the newborn against his chest as he read his book. One of the few moments little Dante was quiet and sleepy, Lucanis was going to take advantage of it to get some reading in. 

Spite was sitting on the couch a few feet away from where Lucanis was standing. Just silently watching the infant. That’s all he’d done the past 4 days since the baby was born.

“It doesn’t do anything.” Spite complains.

“My son is not an it.” Lucanis corrects him, seeming annoyed.

“It doesn’t care what I call it.” Spite said, appearing much closer to him. Lucanis held onto the infant a little tighter now watching Spite rather than his book. He was feeling a bit uneasy, much more than he has in a long time with Spite.

“You think I would hurt it?” Spite asked, more of an accusation than a question.

Dante started to wiggle a bit, readjusting his tiny body. Both looked down at the infant. “You just seem very irritated with him.” Lucanis says. “I’m being cautious.”

Spite was visibly annoyed at that, offered even. Instead of continuing though the demon just let out a huff and vanished. Retreating into whatever part of Lucanis’s mind he would hide in when he wasn’t getting his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He’s so quiet.” Teia commented, looking down at the baby that Rook was holding. Dante’s little face scrunched up at the sight of a new person. Teia just laughs and Rook sighs but is still smiling.

Rook had taken a short trip to the casino to visit Teia, the first time she’d gotten out since Dante was born. “He’s not usually this quiet.” Rook tells her. “He was crying all night.” “That’s pretty normal from what I heard.”

“I know.” Rooks says quietly, looking down at the infant. Dante had become very wiggly during their conversation and Rook tried to adjust how she was holding him. “I might have to write to my mother and apologize. I don’t know how she did this four times.”

Teia quietly laughs at that. “How has the demon been handling all this?” She asks, sounding a bit more serious.

Rook had started to notice Teia rarely ever referred to Spite by name. Usually calling him ‘the demon’. Rook was tempted to correct her but she was too tired to care that much. It was a topic for a different day.

“Oh Spite.” Rook says quietly. “He’s been… curious. Confused mainly though. A bit frustrated but he usually is when he doesn’t understand something.”

Teia looked a bit concerned at that. She had seen Spite in a fight and how he could get when he was “frustrated”.

“He’s not-“

“No.” Rook quickly says. “He’s just confused. It’s fine. He just needs time.”

Teia didn’t seem any less concerned by that answer, but she also didn’t want to argue about it. “Just… if there’s ever an issue, me and Viago are here.” She reminded Rook.

“Thank you, but I’m not too worried.” Rook says, smiling a little.

Part 3: Coming Soon

Part 1: Here

[primus-why]

I Feel TFOne Could've Handled This Better...

Hot take but I feel like folks have been really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment (and thus should be given some grace) when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this?

Like-- after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on that part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words, it's actually cut-and-dry. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 acting up, so he called him out and stood on business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."

It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice and the morality of the moment. Some examples of what I wish we had:

B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.

OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he steels himself to look out towards the horizon... and the future.

Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrrrriiipped-- oops, hey there, Mr. Optimus... Prime... sir?" And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.

Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will barely be a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- like picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.

Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white/good vs bad, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters sprinkled in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to go with the High Guard and ended up sticking around that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly?? Kiiiiinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped, tbh." like come onnnnn...

And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, then he'd probably be back to hurt more people! (If the Quints didn't just kill him out of incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.

I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. (Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too instead of the B-127 bit??)

Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"

Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."

"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"

*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

Crimes against Stephanie Brown:

Getting only 24 issues of her run as Batgirl. I wish she had more, after all isn't Cass getting now a new run as Batgirl again?

Not appearing at the boy wonder comic when it was specifically Robins related and instead they put Barbara as Batgirl (like if you wanted a Batgirl use the fucking Batgirl who used to be a Robin).

Not being included at birds of prey with Cass and Babs.

Getting 2 heroes team projects with her included rejected. (In one she was with Supergirl and Damian, denying us that is a hate crime)

Not appearing in Damian's drawing of people who loves him when she is canonically the first big sister figure he had and she helped him be a kid and have fun.

Getting her character denigrated by Tim's bisexual actions like: dumping her without giving her a reason or having a proper talk, ghosting her for months, only talk to her after their friends force him to do it and then without warning or asking her introducing his new boyfriend to her and make her react like a fujoshi 13 years old wattpad writter saying that "the best day ever" Is meeting her ex' new boyfriend in the most cringe way ever.

The time they tried to erase her time as Robin and Batgirl in the new 52 reboot

Only let her be Robin for 2 months and was fired for doing something every Robin has done more than once.

Dying so fast in DCeased when she became Damian's Robin and never coming back even after Taliah said she would use the Lazarus pit on her.

Not having a visual reaction of Selina, Cassandra, Dick and Babs to her being alive.

Jason not mentioning her to rub it on Batman's face when he came back to life for revenge or mentioning her to black mask, what a wasted opportunity!

Never had the realistic representation of the trauma she should have after being tortured by black mask.

Never hanging out properly again with huntress (well I think they were seen together again once but not enough), Supergirl, Black Canary or Green Arrow junior after the reboot.

The fact that in my opinion she never got a proper apology from all the people that wronged her and treated her badly, like a lesser fighter, like she was a bother, like she wasn't made for vigilante life, I think I saw Tim apologizing to her but it felt shallow.

Not showing us Tim visually crying for her death.

Completely ignore how was her very first interaction with Catwoman, in which Selina was extremely kind and sweet with her only to screw it in the second meeting in her run as Batgirl and later in the new 52 reboot making Selina be a jerk to her.

Making Alfred be cold and dry to her in their first interaction, yes he later cries on her death and then he is very happy when she comes back and later he stands up to her against Batman's stupid tests but it doesn't erase the fact that he was mean to her when he met her and I think that was out of character with Alfred.

Her teen pregnancy arc, some people might think this was a way to make her character more tragic and deep but that pregnancy arc didn't bring anything good to her character because it was all about Tim not her and it makes my blood boil. This arc was just a cheap "easy" Way to make Tim and Steph become closer in their relationship by making Tim be there for her and taking care of her even though he wasn't the father and help her and that and I suppose it was also to make more dramatic her death telling Batman that she had a daughter and Batman be all like: "I'll make sure the baby never has to ask for anything" And then Steph dies... Seriously this is the one thing I wish they could erase from canon FOREVER, making Steph go through that just to make her deepen her relationship with Tim only for getting killed off and eventually dumped with everything she already had on her plate was CRIMINAL

Jason not meeting her properly before the stupid new 52 reboot and still not having the trauma and dead Robin talk with her.

[needforspeed161]

Hey Admiral

My friend and I were talking about a scenario like this and I decided to write a little something for it. Since Cyclone looks up to Ice so much this would be hilarious to see play out 😂

CYCLONE DOESNT REALIZE ICE AND MAV ARE MARRIED.

Cyclone had it up to HERE with Maverick, constantly correcting him and becoming quite irritable with his “teaching methods” as he called them.

Why on earth a man as revered as the legendary Iceman would request a man as reckless and untamed as Maverick to teach the top pilots in the world at TOP GUN OF ALL PLACES! For what he is sure would be one of the most dangerous, high enemy contact level mission any of these pilots would ever experience in their lives was beyond him.

“Admiral” Ice spoke, taking a seat across from him, Beau stood at attention as the COMPACFLT seated himself before him.

“Evening sir” he spoke, militant as ever.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure” Ice waved a waitress over, grabbing a glass of his classic vodka on the rocks as Cyclone opted for a brandy.

“About Maverick…”

The warm chuckle that spread throughout the blonde, now graying, Admirals chest stopped the three star in his tracks.

“My apologies sir, I wasn’t intending to be comical”

“No Beau it’s not that” Ice took a gentle sip from his drink, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s just that if I had a dollar for everytime one of these dinners or meetings began with ‘so about Maverick’ I could have retired 10 years ago and have two Mercedes in my driveway”

Beau looked at his hands momentarily, unsure of what to say. Soon Tom continued.

“Anyways, I digress, what did he do this time”

Ices softer stare met his colleagues as he took another drink, before looking down at the menu on the soft white table cloth.

“His training methods for the Dagger squadron are….interesting to say the least, unorthodox is the better term.”

“Oh? Do tell”

“For instance, they were supposed to be practicing formations for the bombing run yesterday and I found them playing on the beach like children”

“Hm” Ice grunted softly, paying attention as the waitress came by again, interrupting them.

“Good evening sir” she spoke with a small smile at Tom. “Your usual sir?” Tom nodded

“Thank you Katherine, Beau? Care to order?”

Cyclone didn’t think to hard as to why Ice knew this woman, and frequented this place often enough to have established a ‘usual’. Ice was the COMPACFLT, he probably enjoyed some nicer expensive dining from time to time.

“No green eyes tonight?” She asked, and Tom shook his head. “No my dear, all buisness tonight”

She frowned slightly and put her hands on her hips. “Well darn, please tell him I said hello, I’ll go put your order in gentlemen.”

“I definitely will, Thank you my dear” Ice waved as she disappeared, rounding the corner.

Cyclone decided not to comment, first of all he and Ice were close but not so close as to ask questions about his love life. Let alone the fact that it was apparently another gentleman he often frequented this place with. Who was he to judge, since the DADT repeal and Ice becoming one of the most powerful men in the military, no one could say shit even if they had a mouthful.

“Apologies for the interruption, as you were saying?”

Beau cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, he completely ignored my hard deck perameters and is running these pilots through ridiculous exercises, we have less than a week to have them mission ready…”

Their conversation went on for a couple more hours as they ate, and as they both stood to leave Ices hand found Cyclones shoulder.

“I know Captain Mitchell can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes, but he’s a brilliant pilot, best the Navy has to offer, I’ve flown with him for many years, and he’s done many things I may not have understood, but he was always reliable, always had his head in the game and always made sure everyone, including me, made it back home safe. Be patient with him Admiral, give him a shot”

Cyclone huffed out in annoyance slightly, but let his shoulders fall. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best”

“Thanks Beau” Tom spoke, dropping the formalities. “And thank you for the company, but I’m a little past curfew and need to get home” Ice winked, Bidding him goodbye and getting in his car to head home.

—————————————————————————

The next day seemed even worse, Admiral Simpson was being driven up a wall, two seconds away from punching the brunette square in the face. If not for Ices encouragement he probably would have by now.

That evening he returned to the ready room to see, SHOCKER! EVERYONE WAS GONE!

Anger rose in his throat, he knew exactly where he was going.

Throwing his truck in park in perhaps the most aggressive way he could, the man, still clad in his khakis and medals, stormed in through the swinging saloon doors of the Hard deck, seeing all of his pilots and one infuriating Pete Mitchell drinking beers and playing rounds of pool.

Laughing, smiling and joking together, if he weren’t so angry he would have liked to admit that it even looked….fun.

“CAPTAIN MITCHELL!” He shouted. As if on cue the music came to a winding stop and all heads turned to look at him.

Pete not looking worried in the slightest.

“FRONT AND CENTER! NOW!”

Handing off his beer to Bradley with a nod, sharing a quiet word with him that couldn’t be made out clearly. He walked towards the angry, taller brunette. As the rest of the gang tentatively went back to playing pool, quietly, as if walking on eggshells.

“Admiral Simpson, sir” Maverick spoke. Smug grin on his face long gone and replaced with a tight line drawn between his lips.

“What in the hell is this?! We have a mission less

Than TWO WEEKS out that requires absolute focus! And before you try and brush this off as one of your bullshit ‘team building exercises’ just know I’m going to look forward to reporting this directly to admiral Kazansky! And-“

“Reporting what exactly to Admiral Kazansky?” A voice spoke, interrupting his statement, as the taller, angrier man turned to see the familiar face returning with two drinks in his hand.

Immediately straightening his posture and clearing his throat. He took in a very casually dressed Tom Kazansky.

“A-Admiral sir!”

“At ease Admiral, so what did Maverick do this time”

His eyes followed the movements of the slightly taller man, coming up to stand beside Pete, handing him a beer.

As Cyclone began to go into what he saw.

“Is that so Mitchell? Little old you did all that?” Ice threw his arm around Mavericks shoulder. Seeing the smug smile return to his lips.

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement” Maverick chuckled.

“My apologies on behalf of my husband Admiral, it seems he wasn’t aware of todays training layout”

Cyclones jaw may as well have been on the floor, throat tightening at a loss of words.

“H-husband sir?”

“Ah!” Ice almost looked surprised.

“How rude of me Admiral, I’d like to formally introduce you to my husband, Pete Mitchell-Kazansky, though for work purposes everyone still knows him by Mitchell.”

Just at this time Bradley walked up behind them.

“Hey dad, pops” he squeezed both of their shoulders and looked at Admiral Simpson. “Admiral”

“Lieutenant” he scoffed in return. Still attempting to process all of this new information.

“Wait so, at the restaurant, the waitress, green eyes is-“

“The one and only” maverick smirked, leaning up to give his husband a kiss on the cheek.

“Now Admiral, if you don’t mind we’d like to get back to our game, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” Ice invited, gesturing his head towards the rest of the squad.

Cyclones mouth open and closed again. Unsure of what to do next.

“Cmon Sir, first rounds on me, loosen up a little” Bradley smiled, eyes bright and hopeful. As Cyclone turned to the rest of the team, smiling at him as well.

“I guess one drink couldn’t hurt….but I’m kicking your ass at a game of pool first Bradshaw”

As the two men walked back towards the pool tables, newly acquired beers in hand and jokes being flung back and fourth. Maverick pulled ice against his side by his waist. Smiling up at him with big green eyes, clinking his beer against the taller man’s glass.

“This is going to be fun” he smiled.

“Couldn’t agree more darling”

[sockatoothewafflebird]

i keep scrolling through the arcane tag and at least 40% of it is about caitlyn kiramman's warmongering dictator arc. apologies to my followers for being so obsessed with her but i have to add more fuel to the fire that is caitlyn character analyses. please hear me because only one of my caitlyn posts gets attention i want it to be this one.

i personally see caitlyn's character in season 2 as:

a painfully realistic portrayal of how quickly the privileged can go off their rockers at the lower class when they do literally anything wrong. "It's so easy to hate them."

a woman in mourning with no outlet for her grief and anger, scraping at the walls for any semblance of revenge she can get her hands on.

a puppet of the leaders that will use her for their own gain, which will ultimately only make the corruption and prejudice in the system worse and worse. (ambessa.... when i catch you ambessa...)

all of these things can coexist. and they do. arcane is so fucking good at making complex, nuanced, morally-grey characters, and caitlyn is no different.

(putting the rest under the cut bc this got LONG... sorry💀)

something about when you spend your life as a part of the upper class, equality feels like oppression. something about the upper class lashes out when the lower class does nothing but defend themselves, because both feel threatened by the other, but only the lower class is justified in that. something about CAITLYN IS A GASLIGHT-GATEKEEP-GIRLBOSS AND I DO NOT CONDONE HER ACTIONS!!! i stand with my cancelled queen in the sense that i just want to know if she pulls out a ukulele or reciepts!

the worst part about being a caitlyn fan is that she's gonna get worse before she gets better. that's a plain and simple fact. she is going to hurt people, she is going to kill people, she is going to fuck things up; whether it be directly or indirectly, by her own hand or through the puppeteering of ambessa. probably both.

she is going to do horrible things, whether we like it or not. she already has, look at the ventilation systems and how she exploited the grey. she'll only truly be able to realize she's wrong if she goes down to zaun and sees the damage she's done for herself, thinks long and hard about what she's fighting for. she's lost her way and she's gonna have to crawl through the trenches to find it again.

she's using and abusing her power because of things she shouldn't be using as excuses. jinx killed her mother; the attacks at the memorial service; except those don't justify her actions. explains them, maybe. but she's turning into the exact kind of person you'd expect someone of her status to become. someone with power to her name, using it against those below her because she thinks it's justified, with no one bold enough to stop her.

she's going down a dark path and i am HERE to see how she fixes her mistakes in the end... if she even does. i'm excited to see what they do with her. will vi forgive her? will anyone?

that's for the writers to decide. i have faith that they'll execute it well no matter which way it goes. flawed, yes, as all things are, but they will get this right. if they don't i'm gonna be on a watchlist by the end of the month.

oh, caitlyn kiramman, gaslighting-gatekeeping-girlbossing in act 2. what a piece of work. and i'm just a down-bad lesbian that likes psychoanalyzing fictional lesbians. like... have you seen that woman???? she's too good to not put under a microscope. it's like the writers were baiting me specifically.

if anyone has any theories btw, caitlyn related or not, lemme hear them because i will listen. i will read every essay about this show i come across if it costs me my life 🫡