#Man I am not sure why I drew all these images of this guy specifically

[would-holden-caulfield-like-nge]

Justin images I made

[chibishortdeath]

Whenever I do pose studies it’s usually with Simon—

Explaining them all under a cut as per usual :3

Most of these are based on stock photos lol. I ran into a set of them that was just people in business suits being absolutely distraught and lmao yeah. Simon can be a little pathetic if he wants to, we all are sometimes. Anyway I picked this one specifically for the high heels. I think Simon would be the kind of guy to have a panic attack in Dracula’s castle and somehow not roll his ankle in his heeled boots even once 💀💀💀. Idk what else to say about this one uhhhhhhhhhhhh—

Simon seconds after being cursed with the knives subweapon right before a boss battle. Especially annoying because he had the cross boomerang, basically fills the role of knives but way way better 😔…… also noooo I forgot to draw the sword on his belt 💀. I’ve been trying to keep that consistent, even if the Belmonts like don’t really use the sword at all lmao. I’ve always assumed that it’s probably canonically Leon’s sword, of course before Leon was created as a character it was likely just generic sword or sword from a then unnamed ancestor, but yeah. I like to think Simon uses it for like really tough close combat situations, either that or it’s just a back up in case anything happens. It’s also just really fun resting your hand on a sword sometimes hmmm very practical hand rest—

Two more various defeated poses. The top one is practically just his death pose from like was it chronicles that has him lay flat all the way—? No… ok most of his death poses have him with his ass in the air X,,,,,,,,D. He dies in a faceplant with his knees a little inward just right so that he’s making a perfect quarter circle shape on the ground lol. But I do remember seeing one death animation where he lays flat hmmm what game was it…… it’s not CV4 is it… hmm what mystery. Also I just noticed that I haven’t been drawing a part in his hair until recently??? Idk why not lol it’s something. Tbh drawing the top part of his hair is stupid difficult because I over exaggerate his bangs and I don’t want them to clash or bleed into each other, otherwise the top of his head is kinda hard to see (X X ). But this top angle of it isn’t too bad to draw :3

Another one, still stock photos so far. This one unfortunately his hands got all smudged up (-_- ;). Also his hair ended up covering all of the neck anatomy I drew R.I.P.

Finally, one with his face in view— He’s praying.. and giving a little side eye… kinda. Idk this was also a stock photo X,,,,D. Tried to make sure his headband tails where in these as much as possible cause I missed drawing them—

Another dynamic stock photo pose, this time not in that group of business person ones! It might have been a different weapon in the original image tho, but I made it the family sword :3. Then ironically I realized I had been forgetting the whip multiple times 💀💀💀. Idk maybe the context for these is that he was in a really difficult battle and got the whip (and eventually the sword) knocked out of his hand, that’s why he’s so freaked out rn too ig. He’s also got knife subweapon oh no pray for my man he’s struggling— And that bottom silly doodle says “glubtupis wepple” which is a caption I saw on a cat meme somewhere I think I don’t remember tbh 💀💀💀💀💀💀

This says “Willem Dafoe ass pose” because indeed this is a pose from Willem Dafoe. He did this once— I should draw Simon in Willem Dafoe poses like that page I made of him as various Jerma poses hmmmmm—

Suddenly very unrelated Simon’s Quest doodle that just so happens to be on the same sketchbook page, so it’s invited too. The text says “excuse me do you know where—“ “beat your fucking head in 💖🌈😇” “thanks! I’ll consider it!” and this was drawn based on that guy who says “go to Deborah Cliff, hit your head, and make a hole” and at like 1 am lol. That’s such a sentence tho like, anyway you read it is like not good 💀💀💀. He might be saying “beat your head in” or, uh, considering it’s a cliff— I need to replay the game again and actually write about it aaaaaaaaaaa, I have so many ideas (>< ). There’s also random chibi head angles above it for practice.

I saw a cute nightgown on Pinterest and immediately put Simon in it and I was right, he does look cute in it. It was also a really good practice for drawing fabric textures!!! Especially the ruffles on the bottom, they’re very loosely sewn, pretty far apart, subtle gathering— it wasn’t intentional, but you can kinda see his silhouette through the fabric a little so uh just imagine that it’s a thin fabric and light is going through it :3. The second doodle is him in other more modern pajamas. Shorts, t shirt, socks, the usual. I love how I drew his mouth in this one he’s so cute asdfghjkl (〃ω〃). These were both doodles done while I was sleepy so the sleepy vibes came through in them pretty well I think—

Another tiny doodle of that nightgown. You can either take it as him wearing one of Selena’s nightgowns or that Simon just has a cute, tiny, semi sheer, little, frilly nightgown of his own, both are very valid options—

[z-alien-boi]

I HAVE RETURNED! >:D

...I was gonna say that I had returned rejuvenated and whatever to be all dramatic but considering it's currently *checks time* 9:56 pm I don't think I can claim that anymore

REGARDLESS! My rambles are not what I am here for, for I am here to hear YOUR rambles! Making our way through the list, tell me about Alastair, the magnificent wet cat man you have mentioned! (if you wish)

hekp why am i so awake lol

OH HELLO YES THE RETURN-!!!

Alastair is a pathetic lil guy /pos /aff.

His creation was originally with the intention of causing problems and being a bit cold and distant.

And then i accidentally speed-ran an enemies to lovers plot in one night.

Now he's an anxious wet cat of a man.

He has every right to be either cold, distant, or pathetic though, because he was made to tey and take the angst weight off of Z.

This did not work and this man got a somewhat domestic life so far and Z had everything ever go wrong.

Alastair lived in a kingdom seperated from the outside world. That kingdom was convinced that the outside world was completely infected by a mix of magic and science gone wrong.

They were also convinced they had been rescued by a goddess who speaks to the monarchy.

The goddess is real. She is not a goddess. She is a powerful being, sure, but she's a rogue member of an already rather evil society that likes to meddle in more- mortal affairs on occasion. But Mal wanted more power and left.

This led to peooke being sent to scavange in the "old world", but some were sent just as sacrifices. Many were specifically chosed because they had kids who would be under the guardianship of the monarchy upon their parents 'sudden' deaths.

So Alastair's parents get sent scavanging. Are killed. And so he ends up in the royal guard. He ends up being assigned as the prince's personal guard and the 2 of them practically grow up together as best friends.

One day Al finds out something he wasnt meant to. He discovers the truth about the kingdom's history, the sacrifices, the outer world isnt actually infected and is safe to go out into, etc.

Because of this, Mal decides to do what she knows from the society she ran from, and makes Alastair what she is. Now Alastair has a bunch of abilities he doesnt know how to use and is running to get Ryan. [Prince ryan] to run away and escape with him. Ryan agrees after a bit but Mal kills him and frames Al.

Al is wanted for the murder of the heir to the throne, and is on the run.

Eventually, Mal catches him and decides the best way to handle this is to randomly send him somewhere FAR away.

And where does he end up? Crash landing near a bunch of people, a lot of which know what Mal is/used to be, and recognize what Al has become. This includes the person who ends up Al's partner.

They end up speedrunning enemies to lovers because Al's partner ends up getting injured and they have an actual proper conversation while Alastair deals with the injury.

Alastair onky knows how to use a majic sight, which acts like a little magic window to see what is/isnt affected by anything magic.

He recently learned how to see things outside of his own physical eyes.

He will eventually learn to take on an eldrich form of sorts.

He is currently just a little terrified to leave his house. He doenst wanna go talk to people cause people scary.

My boi:

The last image is a comic i drew of the enemies to lovers speedrun we accidentally did at 5AM

Oh. Also-

The silver ring he wears belonged to prince ryan.

A keepsake.

[sapphiics]

Didn’t we almost have it

a/n: I heavily suggest listening to Dammit by Jana Kramer while reading this, it is where I got the entire plot from.

dt: to my dear @morcias because who else just loves morcia so much. plus I asked her a million questions to help me figure out details for this.

word count: 3k

content warning: it’s angsty(?) and quite sad but with a very happy ending.

-----

God did Penelope hate driving through Illinois.

The only reason she was coming back was for the bridal shower of a girlfriend from college, otherwise she would’ve stayed in California, where she was at least a good thousand miles away from this place.

All it did was make her nostalgic, almost painfully so. The entire state serving as a physical reminder of her old life. One she had not a chance in hell of getting back.

The urge to race her car to the nearest ‘Leaving Illinois’ sign coming over her yet again, Penelope makes a right turn onto Commonwealth avenue. Christina’s house was only five minutes from where she was.

It was the walkway that first drew her eye. A stone path, small flowers lining it. She could almost hear his heavy footsteps getting louder as he jogs to greet her, meeting Penelope in the middle with a chaste kiss as she hauls grocery bags under her arms, enough food for four. 

As she nears closer, her eyes travel up the length of the two-story building, it’s utter perfectness painfully pressing into her like a stab to the gut. It took every ounce of restraint that she possessed not to slam the brakes and just gawk at the vision in front of her.

That was the house.

The dream house. The one the two of them fantasized about back in college. Penelope can practically see the late nights they spent in her dorm, cramped together on her twin bed, their fingers intertwined. His free hand running over her head, pushing her hair back behind her ear and tilting her into his shoulder. Hushed planning of their happily ever after. She can hear his voice whispering in her ear, about how they would have two perfect daughters. He would be a FBI agent, and she would work for a nonprofit organization. He’d cook, she’d clean, he would take care of the lawn, she’d do the laundry.

That was the plan. Their own special, simple, linear plan.

Until real life happened, essentially taking those plans and throwing it off a cliff. That’s all it was now, a pretty daydream to keep Penelope from having to accept the fact that nothing in her life is going like she hoped, and she’s probably going to end up alone.

None of that stopped her from turning into the lot of the house, the door slightly cracked open. A large ‘For Sale’ sign hung on it. 

Giving her the perfect opportunity to see what she could’ve had. To spend a few fleeting moments dreaming of the life she would’ve had with him.

Finally found that dream house, and yet the dream guy was long gone.

Her hands shakier than she would’ve liked, Penelope slowly steps out of her car, the two story home everything she ever envisioned.

The path up to the house was lined with daffodils, she could see as she passed them. The front door was a smooth dark brown. Solid wood, contrasting with the otherwise creme exterior of the house.

That would’ve been his touch. He always liked that building and renovating stuff, she could almost hear him begging her to let him remodel the place. To really ‘make it their home.’

The entrance didn’t nothing to deter her, the arching ceilings and oak floors straight out of her most vivid dreams. The arches reminded her of college. Charles Deering Memorial Library, to be specific. She had always liked the gothic architecture, and even he could admit that the towering building’s medieval influence was well executed. And that chill day in March, the ninth, to be exact, when they first met. She was working there part-time, and he needed something from the football archives.

It was his smile that drew her in, his eyes drawn up real small as he flashed her two rows of perfect teeth. 

What she would give for one of those smiles right about now.

An embarrassingly loud gasp left her mouth as she walked in further. Ahead of her were a pair of large black couches, perpendicular to each other. A grand fireplace in front of them, an open space perfect for a nice big flat screen.

Hockey. That’s what would be playing. He was huge on the sport, and her mind drifted to an image of the two of them sitting on the couch. Him in a worn out jersey and his lucky socks, her in his beat leather jacket, feet propped up in his lap. She has headphones and her knitting, he has a beer she steals sips of and has a loose grip on her ankle, his fingers pressing against the small tattoo she got the day she turned eighteen. Just like old times.

Without even glimpsing at the side door that led to the kitchen, Penelope could already visualize him sitting on the counter. A soft white tee and some sweatpants, strumming on her ukulele and singing some old 90s ballad off key while she chopped vegetables. Later that night, after their girls went to bed, the two of them dancing together to her parents’ old record player. An old Bee Gees song softly in the background as they sway.

Her mind racing, she’s already thinking of summer barbecues. Her and JJ drinking margaritas in the shade, their children’s laughter bringing a grin to her face. Him talking it up with Rossi about god knows what as he mans the grill. The sun setting as he takes a seat next to her, tugging her into his side and placing a small kiss on the side of her head.

The overwhelming realization that Penelope is never going to get that future, never going to have the future she so desperately wanted with him, hit her harder than ever in that moment.

And next thing she knows she can feel tears running down her cheeks. Alone, in the middle of an open house in the one state, the one city she vowed to never return to, and she’s sobbing like a baby.

“Well Hello Miss!” ,a kind old woman steps out, shocking Penelope back to reality, “You here for the house?”

 “Yes,“ she says softly, hastily wiping at her face,  “Yes I am. Just a quick look around.” Her hands swipe at her dress, trying to regain even a semblance of composure, “You have a beautiful home.”

The woman casts her a sympathetic smile,

“Thank you. Me and Sarah have lived here for over forty years. We raised our five children in these very walls,” the lady beams, a smile coming over her face as she looks around the room, 

“We figured that with them all gone and us not getting any younger, we could downsize just a bit.”

Penelope let out a polite laugh, but stayed silent otherwise.

“You stay for as long as you like! My name’s Carolyn by the way. Let me know if you need anything!”

“Penelope, and thank you,” she smiles at her, Carolyn returning to the back of the house.

Penelope’s eyes catch onto the grand staircase, passing over the perfect crème walls and carpet flooring.

Her feet moved towards it, the view before her so accurate to her vision that it was like somebody reached into her brain and pulled out the design themselves. She needed to have this place.

Right before she can take a step on the stairs, she sees Carolyn return, a dimmed smile on her face.

“I’d like to buy the house,” Penelope states confidently. She couldn’t possibly leave here without having it.

It didn’t matter that she lived across the country, with decent enough friends and a steady job. This was the house, and if she had the chance to get at least one part of the dream, she damn sure was going to take the opportunity.

Carolyn winces, a regretful look on her face. “I’m so sorry Penelope, we just had somebody place an offer for it.”

“Oh,” Penelope’s eyes widen slightly, and she can feel the tears pushing their way to the surface. For just a second, she let herself get entranced by the home, and it hurt more than she was willing to admit that she couldn’t have it.

“Are you looking for a similar house ? There’s one just in Fullerton Road, and I believe it is on sale.”

“No I… I just got caught up,” Penelope waves her hand around the side of her head, her cheeks turning red, “It’s okay, an amazing family deserves this home.”

“Actually, the young man who purchased the place is with Sarah in the back right now. He’s already thinking of renovating the place.”

“Sounds great,” Penelope mused, wanting to be anywhere but here. At least a loving family is getting this house. She just hoped they were as happy as she once imagined she would be.

“Here they are,“  Carolyn announces, adding to Penelope’s discomfort. She had to leave, and fast. The last thing she wanted to see was the happy husband who bought this place to catch her, essentially a random stranger, crying in his kitchen.

“Is your family nearby? Why didn’t they come?” A woman, Penelope could only assume was Sarah, Carolyn’s wife, was talking to the new owner of the house. Penelope stiffened, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

A deep laugh comes from the other person, and she could hear the two people approaching. “Nope, I’m a single man.”

“What the hell did you need such a big house for then?” Sarah quips.

“Just,” the guy takes a resigned breath, “Just wishful thinking I guess.“

Penelope could hear her heartbeats, the sound thrumming loudly in her ears. She shut her eyes, squeezing them to the point of something akin to pain. This couldn’t be happening. This could just be a terrible dream, and when she opened them, she would be waking up in her apartment. Back home, where she was away from her old life here. Safely away from the love of her life, whose voice she just heard for the first time in five years.

“Sarah, this is Penelope. She just stopped by to look at the house.”

Penelope reluctantly turns, peeling her eyes open. To her disappointment, she was still standing in the swept sold house. Still back in her college town.

Still right in front of her ex-fiancé, one she’s just as irrevocably in love with as she was the day he proposed.

“Derek,” she lets out quietly, drinking in everything about him. He’s only gotten better-looking, and Penelope has always been attracted to him.

It was his face, his eyes to be specific, that captured her in this moment.

Because instead of the resentment and anger she had expected, she had deserved, all that was there was a small shimmer of hope. A sliver of hope that she almost cried tears of relief at seeing. Hope she had given up on ever having until she saw it in his face. The same look reflected in her own eyes.

“Penelope.” 

His voice usually stern, she can hear the small waver in his tone. Like he’s just as affected by her as she is him.

Even after all these years, she can’t help but melt when it comes to Derek. It was like her innermost self just knew him, recognized that he, no matter how far apart they were, was always going to have a part of her heart. A power over her that she would never give to any other person.

Yet looking into Derek’s eyes, the only man to ever capture her heart, Penelope could’ve sworn he was feeling the same way she did.

“So, um, we’ll just leave you two for now,”  Carolyn’s eyes clearly wide as she drags her wife outside of the kitchen, leaving the pair alone together.

Derek walks a couple steps closer to her, the smell of nice cologne wafting to her nose as he moves near.

He opened his mouth, almost as if he were about to start speaking, but Penelope catches his small sigh and the twitch of his hands.

They were so close, closer than they had been in years, yet that short distance felt wider than the thousands of miles she had made sure to have between them for the past half a decade.

The lack of touch. That’s what was halting them.

They were always touching one another. It was an unspoken language, just for the two of them to understand. 

To be so close yet not touching, it felt so inorganic to Penelope, so abnormal.

Penelope looks just a little off to the right of him, his presence too overwhelming. He was examining her, and the quiet was anxious.

“Why didn’t you take the ring?” Derek spits out, his low voice subdued by the hurt she could just hear in his voice. “ I could handle how you left, no note or calls. But you left me your ring Penelope.”

She thought she was prepared for this, the anger he would have for her. But hearing the words in real time, from Derek himself, made her stomach turn. A ball of nausea tossed in her stomach, Derek’s pain something that never failed to physically wound Penelope.

“Derek...,” her heart breaking at how much she affected him.

“Did I,” he pauses, sucking in a shallow breath, “Did we mean that little to you?”

“No.” She locks onto his eyes at that, holding his stare. “You- us, that was everything to me.” A fierceness was in her voice that shocked her, and at the look of his slightly widened stare, she wasn’t the only one. The idea that Derek for a second could fathom the idea that he wasn’t the love of her life, her soulmate, was a stake to the heart.

“Was it marriage? Was it not wanting to be married? Because you could’ve told me.”

Surprising her own self, she moves in a half-step, her hands enclosing one of Derek’s clenched ones. Her fingers act on instinct, sliding through his, rubbing her thumb on the back of his index finger. Five years and his fingers still naturally close around hers .

Her teeth firmly sunk into the flesh on the back of her lip, she peers up at Derek, his expression unreadable. He was always better at the reading people thing, it was like second nature to him.

“I promise you, Derek Morgan, there is nothing I have ever wanted more than to marry you.”

Feeling his hand tighten around hers, glancing up to see his brows pulling together, she pushes on, needing to express to him her every feeling. “ You didn’t deserve what I did, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by when I didn’t feel like the luckiest person in the world to have such an amazing guy.”

“ I am so,” words that she’s been practicing for years suddenly getting clogged in her throat, making every word come out like a croak, “ so sorry for ever hurting you.”

Tears burning behind her eyes, nothing stuns her more than when Derek cups her face, his large palm enclosing her cheek as he runs his fingers lightly through her hair. 

“Is it the house?”

Taken aback, Penelope jolts her head upward. “What?”

His hand now on her shoulder, he turns her to the right, giving her a wider view of the home.

“Is it the right house?”

“It’s the perfect house.” Her voice trailing off at the end.

She faces Derek, his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to say something.

“We could- we could still have it.” His eyes looking at their hands, in a way that was so unlike him, Penelope didn’t dare try to assume anything about what his words meant.

“Have what?” her attempt to keep her voice even failing miserably. Averting his stare, her eyes land on his neck, where a thin gold chain rests.

A chain that had something that looked dangerously similar to a ring hidden under his shirt.

He looks to where she’s staring, a bald-faced look on her face, and his fingers pull out the necklace to reveal a gold wedding band. The one she bought for him, with the special engraving on the inside.

Through the tears rapidly coming to her eyes, she could see Derek’s face. And the vulnerability and love that shined from him to her 

Because he kept it. Even in his clear anger and hurt, the heartbreak she put him in, he kept her ring. 

“The plan.” Derek reaches behind his neck, his fingers reaching to the clasp of the necklace. “The big wedding, the two girls,” He slides the ring off of the chain, twirling it round in his hand. “Our dream.” He finally places the ring in her hands, gently closing her fingers around it.

Her mouth falling slightly open, Penelope slowly blinks three times. The words that just came out of his mouth so unbelievable that her brain was taking some time to catch up. She pulls her lip sideways into her mouth, too nervous to say anything.

His hands come up on each side of her face, a tender clasp that lets him turn her head up towards him.

“I never gave up on you, on us.” He lets out a sad laugh, “ Hell, I’m here about to buy a house just to try and get a piece of that dream.”

Penelope bobs her head slightly back, the shock of what’s happening still getting to her. “You really still want it?”

And Derek, bless his sweet soul, just looks at her with a small smile resting on his lips. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing babygirl,” the sound of his old nickname for her better than anything she’s heard the last few years, “that I want more than to be with you for the rest of my life.”

A matching smile coming to her mouth, she brings Derek’s left hand down to her own, and slides the wedding band on to his ring finger.

A soft cry breaks from her lips, and she feels nothing other than pure joy when he leans down, taking her lips in a sweet kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, they can have it after all.

————

taglist: @alexandrablake @lavenderbau @suburban--gothic @altsvu @rem-ariiana @vhsrights @spelleaway @willlemonheadsupremacy @ssaevie @literatekayla @criminalswifts @hotchshoney @moreidsdaughter @reidtheprettyboy

[erinxneil]

22: “Sorry we are late, we were totally not having sex.”

Thank you so much for suggesting this @mortallythoughtfulgurl ! It made me super happy to see that you enjoyed my previous post enough to suggest a specific number! I plan to do all of the prompts on the list, however if there are any specific numbers that you’d like me to do sooner then simply send me a request and I will do so! These prompts are all from the list here.

masterlist

TW: Mentions of Reid’s prior drug problem, mentions of family death.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: Spencer doesn’t quite understand the concept of being subtle.

>>>These are all basically one-shots! This doesn’t follow the story line as the last post that I made, however I may do a series soon :)

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I smiled as I packed away my things. Not only had the team just solved another successful case.

I, myself had managed to save the victim, as I was able to talk down the unsub simply by using my words. I did this as I understood what the unsub was going through. While, of course, resorting to murder and becoming a serial killer isn’t exactly the first thing that I did after discovering that my sister had been murdered, although I was able to empathize with the killer and thus convince him that murdering a girl who bared resemblance to his kin would not revive her.

I felt my smile droop the faintest bit. While the victory of a successful case made me feel like rejoicing, this case had brought up poor memories. I shrugged them off and headed for the door.

“Hey, Y/N!” JJ called out. I turned around slowly, eyebrow perked in question. “You coming out tonight? We thought we’d head out for some drinks.”

I offered her a tight smile. “Not tonight, guys, sorry.”

Spencer coughed. “Yeah, me neither, I’m not really feeling it.”

Emily frowned. “Reid,  didn’t you just say that you we-”

He coughed again. “Yeah. Changed my mind. I’m not feeling well. Is that a problem, Emily?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow in challenge, as if trying to be intimidating. I chuckled a little. While Spencer could be intimidating as hell during cases, such as during interrogations, we all know that he would never do anything that could remotely harm us. However, his sass was welcomed and quite amusing.

I turned. “Well, goodnight, friends. See you tomorrow.” Before I could take even more than three steps, my name was called again.

“Wait, Y/N! You took an Uber here, right?” I blinked. Oh, right, I had completely forgotten about that. I had known we would be leaving the state for a few days for the case, and didn’t want to leave my car here. How did Reid remember that, yet I didn’t? Spencer disrupted my thoughts again. “Well- uh, I could give you a ride. If you’d like.” I quirked an eyebrow at how fidgety he was being.

“Alright, lover-boy, lead the way.” His cheeks tinged at the nickname. It was admittedly quite cute, however he quickly ducked his head and lead me to the car, shielding his face with his hair so that I would be unable to see his blush.

-*-*-*-*-*-

We drove in relative silence for a majority of the car ride. Although surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. As the case hit me harder than I expected, I welcomed the silence, and was thankful that Spencer didn’t force any conversation between us.

“It’s just the left up ahead.” I muttered quietly. Reid bit the inside of his cheek, eyes remaining focused on the road ahead of him. I blinked as he drove completely past the turn. “Uh, you missed it.” I chuckled nervously.

“I’m not taking you home.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Reid, I hope you don’t plan on kidnapping me. For a profiler, you should know that considering you were the one to give me a ride home, everyone at the BAU saw me get into your car, which would make you a prime suspect.” He smiled softly. “I’m not kidnapping you, Y/N, I just wanted to show you something.”

I furrowed my eyebrows but didn’t question him further until we pulled up on the top of a cliff.

“Woah.” I murmured, admiring the beautiful landscape before me. In the distance, snowy mountaintops scattered the planes, with ashy planes and various kinds of trees. It was the type of image that you would find as a laptop screen background, one that you never imagined you would see in person.

“Where are we?” I questioned. When I wasn’t met with an answer, I turned to glance at Spencer, who jumped in surprise at me looking at him. He blinked abruptly, as if being taken out of a trance.

“This is called Possum Point- or, at least, a crook of it. I come here often when I feel particularly struck by cases that we have.” I smiled. “It’s beautiful. However, I don’t really understand why you’re showing me this.”

Spencer unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, before moving to my door and opening it for me. He then sat on the hood of the car and patted the spot beside him with a grin. I sat, and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m a profiler, you can’t really suppose that I didn’t notice that you took this case personally?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “So what?”

Reid shrugged. “I just figured you’d want someone to talk to. Or at least, I wanted you to know that there’s someone available to listen, if you’re willing.” The corner of my lip tugged upwards. In the moonlight, the features of the man next to me seemed ever the more beautiful. He held direct eye-contact, something that was rare for Spencer, and therefore I knew how genuinely he wanted to comfort me. His delicate features were something I had never really taken notice of before. Before, he was simply Reid. The brainiac agent- sorry, Doctor- whom you happened to work beside. Now, not only did you acknowledge the beauty of his facial structure, you also understood that there was more to him than useless facts and magic tricks. He held compassion that he was willing to offer you.

“Y/N?” His soft voice broke me from my thoughts. In the process of admiring him, you had completely forgotten that he was speaking to you. You sighed.

“I just understand the pain and anger that Homer was feeling. I mean, obviously murder isn’t a reasonable reaction. However, I can understand being angry at the world and wanting to make others feel the pain that you do.” I frowned. “When my sister died, I was in a dark place, and often took out my anger on the people who cared about me, because I didn’t understand how they were allowed to continue living their lives being happy, while my sister wasn’t able to even continue living.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gently rubbed my arm. “I can’t even imagine how that must have felt. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Having people all around you but still feeling entirely alone...” His voice trailed off softly. This reminded you that he said he himself comes often when cases cut him too deeply.

“Spencer, what kinds of cases cause you to come out here to reflect?”

“Usually when we have cases focused on unsubs with a drug addiction.” Reid muttered. My eyebrows raised in surprise. I had heard office chatter of rumors of a drug addiction that Reid had battled alone a year or two prior to your arrival at the BAU, although you always took them with a grain of salt, as you hadn’t heard it straight from his mouth. However, it appears that now, you could confirm your suspicions.

You offered him a faint smile. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to it about, or you’d simply like some company on this cliff as well, I’d be more than happy to abide. I feel much better than I did when we left the office.”

Reid met my smile with a grin. “Glad to be of service.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

The next day at work, I could tell that the dynamic between Spencer and I had been altered. Usually, we simply worked beside each other, sparing words of encouragement every now an then. However, after that night, we stole glances, smiled at each other, and often conversed on the jet. We eventually began having lunch together. Spencer would buy me coffee on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I bought it for him on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We knew each other's orders- I took mine black, while his required as much sugar was available.

Weeks went by, and we only drew closer.

“Alright everyone, remember, dinner tonight at Jose’s Diner! We’re celebrating the release of Rossi’s newest book!” JJ explained to the team as we prepared to leave for the day. “You are to arrive at 8 PM sharp, if you’re late you better have a really good excuse!”

I grinned at JJ’s scolding. While we all knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything to us, she’s quite terrifying when she’s angry, so I doubted that anyone would dare to arrive a minute after 8:00. I began to head for the door when I was stopped by a nervous Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, could I give you a ride home?” I grinned. “Of course, Spence.”

When we arrived, I glanced at him expectantly. “So, I suppose you had a reason for offering to drive me home, other than the obvious of course, of you simply enjoying my company.” I smiled coyly, and he scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“Y/N,” he began slowly, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night on the cliff.” I blinked in surprise, but stayed silent, allowing him to continue. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. You’ve seen me for who I am and it’s like the more time I spend with you, the longer I want to. I’m not quite sure what this feeling is, or what to do about it, but-”

I cut off his rant by planting my lips on his, one hand on the side of his jaw. He froze at first, taken by surprise, however he quickly melted into the kiss and responded. Pulling away for a moment, he smirked, “So I suppose that you feel the same?”

I rolled my eyes in amusement. “Just shut up and kiss me.” I pulled him closer again by the collar of his shirt, and he returned with no protest.

-*-*-*-*-*-

I smoothed out my dress quickly and checked my makeup one last time in the car mirror before turning to Spencer with a smile. It was 8:24. “Alright, we lost track of time a little bit so we don’t have as much time to debrief as I’d like. Remember, just for now, we are keeping this to ourselves. We haven’t even necessarily discussed this between ourselves yet, therefore there is no reason to involve our coworkers right now. You happened to be giving me a ride when your car broke down. Understood?”

Spencer nodded. “Understood.”

“Are you sure?” “I’m sure. Completely understood.”

We walked into the building together and stood next to our coworkers table. All of their eyes lifted to us expectantly. I opened my mouth to give an explanation, however Spencer beat me to it.

“Sorry we are late. We were totally not having sex.”

I blinked. Reid blinked. Our coworkers blinked. The waitress blinked. The table beside us blinked. The clock on the wall blinked.

I sighed. “Well, so much for secrecy.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

[franeridart]

Anon said: I love your cartoon mice! You could make a series out of them!

I could!! I’d love to!!!!!! If you guys would be interested in me posting more of the original/cartoonish animals-and-still-life stuff I doodle I wouldn’t mind sharing at all!!!

@notanerd579​ said: hey! i’ve been a fan of yours for quite a while and i’ve had your post notifs on for some time. lately i noticed how quiet you’ve been so i looked up your page, and i somehow was no longer following you? i don’t know what happened, but i wanna make sure u know in case it’s happened to any of your other followers

Answering this publicly cause it seemed like you wanted me to, thank you so much! Both for following me again and for being worried it might have happened to someone else!! I hope not ;;;; 

Anon said: your iidayama fusion... love him so much

Ohhhhhhhhhhh I’m glad, I loved that one concept probably the most out of every other one!

Anon said: Ahhh i love your art style so much!!!! Thank for all the good Kiribaku stuff my dude!!!❤❤

No anon thank you!!!!! 💕💕💕

Anon said: So, I’m just wondering what makes u ship Seromina? My friend only said that their shipped because there the only last two in the Bakusquad, ( Kiribaku, Kamijirou )

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh, okay! Actually I have no clue if that’s why other people ship them? It might be? It might also be that them being the last two out of the group made people consider the ship and then start actually enjoy the possibility of it? I don’t know! Personally SeroMina is one of the ships I’ve been shipping the longest (I’ve been on it since before starting to like kamijirou, actually!) and one of the only three ships in bnha I have a seriously hard time breaking up and shipping around (the other two being ochadeku and bakushima) so I’m reasonably sure my ending up liking them was an independent thought process and it wasn’t guided by shipping other things? But it’s been so long that I can’t really say why I first considered them as a possibility, so who knows, really! Might be, might not!

The reason why I’m still shipping it right now is that I find them highly compatible, that their interactions in canon give me life, and that I just find them extremely visually pleasing - I think I have a very specific way of shipping them? In my head? I have this story about them, or... an ideal way in which I like to think they might happen, and it makes me very happy and makes me feel very warm and it’s just, it’s ideal? To me, the possibility of Sero and Ashido ending up together would make for an ideal lovestory and relationship, it just gives me the fuzzies haha it’s like, you know, they’re very very good friends, and to me that’s the most solid base to start a relationship, and they’re comfortable with one another which is wonderful. They’re the same type of silly and extra and rowdy which is fun, and I’m very very stuck on the fact that when Ashido was talking about her future agency she just assumed Sero would be in it - she wants him in her future??? how cute is that!! he wasn’t the only one she mentioned so I’m not saying it’s “canon proof” or whatever, I just like that out of the squad the only one she assumed would be with her in the future is Sero, it’s soft I like it. And I like how she’s by canon called bright and shining and eyecatching and Sero’s by canon called plain, I like the possibilities in that, the feelings in that, but especially I like the idea of bright shining wonderful Ashido with her love for everything romantic and always in search of her own shining love story one day looking at Sero and realizing that she doesn’t want anyone else!! because he makes her laugh! he makes her happy! he makes her feel like she’s perfect the way she is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! with her loud laugh and childish sense of humor and overly-bright fashion sense, and I love love love the idea of Sero thinking her completely out of his league and never thinking anything could ever happen between them but like, not in a sad pining sort of way? more in a “she’s ideal and I know she’s out of my league so I’m not putting any thought in it but she ideal”, only for Ashido!!! to confess!!!!!!! To HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! just thinking about it makes me feel all warm inside I’m talking too much okay I know I just love them So Much Hori please don’t pair them off with someone else I’ll cry a river

Anon said: Have you seen the newest BNHA chapter??

THIS WAS ABOUT THE KAMIJIROU ONE HELL YEAH I READ THE KAMIJIROU CHAPTER HOLY H E C K

Anon said: Kiribaku, am I right?

you’re So Right, anon

Anon said: first off, i LIVE for your art, it always makes me so happy to see the boys!! also i am impressed with the way you made sero's elbows look anatomically correct he is a Good boy but man is he hard to draw and u did that

THANK YOU!!!! I actually spent a whole lot of time trying to figure out a way to draw his elbows that made sense to me and most times I still struggle with it a lot but I’m super happy to hear the way I go about it makes sense to you!!

Anon said: I was just wondering if you were still into Haikyuu?

Hell yeah! Both following the new anime season and still following the manga!

Anon said: Blue, grey, cinnamon, periwinkle, mauve, blush, indigo, fuchsia, lavender, saffron, plum, sage, viridian, burgundy. Colors taken from mk-58

...............................anon I’m sorry I have no clue what this is about orz

Anon said: Hey there! I love your art so much! Would you ever consider drawing Genos from One Punch Man? He’s my friend’s favorite character and she would totally love it. If not, that’s ok whatever you’re comfortable with :)

Ahhhh I’m sorry anon but I don’t really make a habit of drawing OPM stuff ): I’m glad you like my style, though! Thank you!!

Anon said: IS THIS WHERE YOU'VE BEEN HIDING MY DEAR~?? I'VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR YOOOOOOOOU~~~~~~~

I also don’t know what THIS is about!!!! is this a song I’m supposed to know because I feel like it is but it’s been weeks and my brain just isn’t cooperating!!!

Anon said: Not a question but I NEED you to know that your bokuroteru tattoo au comic gave me the biggest motivation to start writing again (albeit for bnha, instead of haikyuu) because it's just sooo good!! Their interaction, the way bokuro seem confident and comfortable even tho they're actually lame dorks who blush a lot, the way teru confessed to the two guys, their kisses //// just gahhh everything about your comic gave me the dokis. You're an inspiration

I’m so so so happy to hear that oh my god!!! (TTATT) the fact that that comic can still make people feel stuff means so much to me holy heck I’m gonna cry ;;;;;;;;;;;;;; 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Anon said: CAN WE HAVE MORE AKANE?? PLEASE I LOVE THAT CHILD TO DEATH!!!! I'm new to the blog so Idk if this would be a request but...I just really want some Akane...

I do wanna draw more of her!!!!!!!!! I just don’t have any ideas at all!!!!!!! I hope inspo will come back to me soon ;; meanwhile thank you so much for being interested in my little rude bean TT^TT

Anon said:  !!! i just scrolled through my dash and saw some icon set post that had a a character i didn't recognize, but the image in the middle was familiar, and i realized it was your art ;; so i 1) was proud of myself for recognizing your style immediately and 2) asked op to take the post down since there was no credit and the image was edited. hope you have a lovely day! i got your back 💞

Thank you so much for looking out for me, anon!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕 you’re the best and I appreciate you A LOT

Anon said: OH MY GOD YOU DREW GALO AND LIO I JUST WATCHED PROMARE TODAY AND I THOUGHT "THEY LOOK FAMILIAR"

I have so many more ideas for those two!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m not sure WHY I’m not drawing more, honestly!!!!! my hands lately haven’t been very cooperative orz

Anon said: Ok so Idk if I lowkey offended u with my last ask so IM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME IT WAS A JOKE

NOT OFFENDED SORRY FOR THE WAY I WORDED THE ANSWER seriously I’m really sorry I was just kind of already beating myself up over the fact that I haven’t been posting enough so the answer ended up sounding like that because in my brain I was like yeah fran where IS the stuff!!!!! so, yeah. It was more on me than on you, I’m really sorry for that ;;

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #5

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read/Save it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/32197966

{crossover}

Ship: olivarry

Warnings: small amount of angst, swearing

Status: dating

Wc: 2,413

Once again, there were some sort of god-like presents threatening Central and Star city, hence it was up to everyone’s favorite superheroes, and their teams, to defeat the crisis and save the world.

I am said superhero, the fast one specifically. Oliver and I have been dating from around since I awoke from my coma. How did we get together? That’s a story for a different time. Oliver and I, throughout all of this, have been able to keep our relationship a secret. I know, huge shocker.

“Oliver, Cisco and Ray have made the tech, but it needs to be tested.”

“So,” he said, with his Oliver look, “Test it.”

“How are we supposed to test tech that should defeat Aliens without actual Aliens?”

“Kara.”

“Ollie! We can’t shoot at Kara.”

“You're so cute,” Oliver said, under his breath, “Sometimes I just want to cuddle you like a teddy bear, however out of character.”

I blushed deeply, “Stop it. We need to save the world.”

He leaned it, laying a careful kiss on my forehead, “And we will.”

“You’ve really helped on the ideas front,” I said, sarcastically.

“Let’s get the teams together and discuss what we know so far. We can think up our next moves.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll get everyone to the hub.”

“Barry Allen do not speed m-”

I sped him to the hanger.

“I hate you,” he commented with an underlying smirk.

“I love you, too.”

I quickly sped everyone into the room before returning to Ollie’s side.

“Yes Barry?” Sara Lance, captain of the Waverider, said.

“Well, I-i,” I looked over at Oliver for help.

He whispered, “Thought as though we should call a team meeting.”

“Right, I thought we should call a team meeting to, to discuss, uh, um-”

He continued in a subdued voice, “what we know, our plan, and our next steps.”

“To discuss what we know about our big bad, what our plan is, and our next steps to ya know, save the world.”

“Are we meant to pretend we aren’t hearing the brooding man?” John Constantine, local warlock, said.

“I give up. Ollie, lead the team. You know what to do.”

“You tried,” he smiled, a little over fondly, “Right so, Nate, Iris what have we got on her?”

“Well, she seems to have no record of life until she popped up in our time and attacked Central city,” Nate explained.

“We wondered if there was a chance of her being from another Earth, and Cisco tracked her residual frequency from the attack, and the frequency matched one from this Earth.”

“So that leaves us nowhere, loves,” Constantine said, lighting a cigarette, which Sara promptly knocked out of his hand and stamped on.

“Well, not necessarily. We know that she just appeared which narrows down the search to anyone without a record, which is very few people,” Cisco explained.

“If we can just get a strand of her DNA, I could take a look into how to gain her powers and where they come from.”

“To get the ladies NDA we need to find her,” Mick grumbled.

“Thank you Mick,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes, “Dig, did Lyla get anything.”

“Argus satellites haven’t picked up anything. She said she’d call and let us know.”

Felicity entered, and Oliver raised an eyebrow at me.

“She told me to put her back,” I said lowly to Oliver.

“I-i told you not to PUT me.”

“She’s scary,” I defended further.

“Sorry I was not present, I mean I wasn’t here because I was well-that’s the point. I was hacking, obviously, that’s what I do, I hack, but you guys know that-”

“Felicity,” Ollie said, “The point.”

“Right. There was something on her arm, almost underneath her skin. I looked further into it and it seemed to be of a technological origin. I came back and instantly drew the “thing.” I think it might be some sort of microchip. After consulting Ray, I did some digging, and I came back with some interesting results,” she projected the images from her tablet, “This was a theoretical experiment planned in-you guessed it, Star City. it was, well, awful. It was talking about mutation and how technology had the power to change any and all humans for the better. It was called Project Mutant.

“Oh yes Felicity, I bring you, Mutant, our big bad.”

“Not your best work,” Caitlin commented.

“Offended,” Cisco replied with a grin. Oliver was clearly getting annoyed, so I touched his arm subtly. His demeanor began to soften.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “Can we track this chip?”

“Well, yes and no. The chip is on a completely different server to any domain I’ve come across. I don’t even know what it is. It’s essentially in a different world. I’d need to get track of her personal server to begin the hack, which-”

“You obviously can’t do,” Ray said, “Can I see the server?”

Ray, Cisco, and Caitlin all looked at the server Felicity pulled up on her tablet.

“Does that look like a wave function to anyone else?” Cisco said.

“A what?” I said.

“Somehow, her DNA, it’s acting like a particle on the quantum level,” Caitlin further explained.

“So we need to treat her, in essence, as a quantum particle.”

“So that’s why everytime I try to hack into the database it moves. Why it acts like a domain I’ve never seen before.” Felicity said in some sort of revelation.

“So how do you track a particle?” Ray said, “You can’t, wave function collapses.”

“So we can’t track her in any way.”

“No, no we can. The art of quantum mechanics is tracking particles, that's the whole point.”

“So you “solve” quantum mechanics before this looney destroys a city. Hell no.”

“Right, moving on from the science, which I am sure you guys will figure out, let’s say we can track her and find her. If she’s like a particle then can’t she just pop in and out of anywhere at any time, ya know wave particle duality and all. Light goes so fast that it theoretically travels through time. “

“Oliver, are you in there? When did you learn quantum physics?” I said, shocked.

“Y-you pick up things here and there. That’s relevant anyway. How do we stop her.”

“Simple, what stops a particle?”

“Cold.” Caitlin said.

“So, we need to track her, build a weapon to slow her down on the sub-molecular level, and keep her in that state. Easy,” Ray summarized, looking defeated.

“Hold up, she came back to this time for a reason. She clearly has motive. If we know her motive, we can predict where she will attack next. She can’t just pop out of existence if she has a goal she needs to complete. She can go back to this time for a reason, out of all the times she could have existed,” Sara said, “She came back now. This timing, this place, it has to mean something to her. That could hold the key to stopping her.”

“You’re right,” Iris said, “She has a reason.”

“We could run some samples of history through Gideon to look for significance,” Nate suggested.

“There’s an idea,” Sara said.

“Right, looks like everyoens got work to do, let’s get this rolling.

I brought Oliver into flash time. He was stressed and uptight.

“Ollie?”

“Barry, what-what are you doing? They can all..”

“Flashtime, remember.”

“Why did you-”

“Sometimes you just need the world to stop for a moment. You know that better than anyone.”

He just wrapped his arms around me and kept me close.

“We’re going to win this. We’re going to be fine,” I told him.

He just hummed.

He leaned in for a kiss, which we both needed.

“Let’s do this,” Oliver said.

“Let’s.” I pulled away from him and smiled.

The fight was intense and it was Oliver and I left with the task of finishing her.

“Ollie, go, go please. I can do this, I’ll be able to.”

“It’s my bow that has the tech, no way in hell I leave you here.”

“Think Oliver! I am the only one fast enough to stop her.”

“Barry, don't. Don’t grab my bow and speed off. Please,” he was begging. Before I could think much more about what was on the line, I kissed Ollie, grabbed the arrow, and sped off towards her. With her caught off guard, I was able to plunge the arrow into her forearm. When I pulled the bow out, I saw that the world around me had changed.

Oliver’s POV

Just like that he vanished. First from my touch and then from this time. My bear, bazza, barry, just, gone. I ran at the spot where he’d disappeared from yelling, “BARRY! BARRY!”

“Oliver,” A voice said.

“H-he can’t be gone. I-i can’t do this, any of this, without him. Please I need him. GET HIM BACK!.”

I found myself slumped against a wall. I threw my bow across the room and chucked some arrows wherever I pleased. I waited a few moments before collecting my bow and getting on my motorbike. Tears threatened to fall. How could I lose the one person in the world that matters the most to me?

Once I arrived back at the hanger, I immediately went into the storage room. I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. My back screen was a picture of Barry cuddled into my chest. If anyone questioned it, I’d tell them I lost a dare to Barry and this was my forfeit. Obviously it was a huge lie as it was one of my favorite pictures of the two of us. His cute smirk is on show as well as his clingy nature. I missed his reassuring touches already. Angry, I threw some boxes around the place.

I instantly drew an arrow back at the tapping of someone's feet. Closer, closer, here. It was just Felicity.

“Hey,” She said in her sweet voice.

“Hey,” I said, monotone.

“We’re going to find Barry, wherever he is.”

“Don’t tell me that! Don’t tell me that when he could be anytime and anywhere,” I sneered through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” Felicity said in her felicity voice, “What is going on? Not keeping a level head is not helping Barry.”

“Felicity you don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand, Oliver.”

“It’s HARD TO KEEP A LEVEL HEAD WHEN IT'S THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE!”

“Love of your life?” she questioned.

“Yes, love of my fucking life.”

“You and-”

“Me and Barry.”

“How long?”

“Long. Year and a half.”

“W-who knows?”

“No one does.”

“Oliver, look at me. We will find Barry, okay? We have all the best minds working in here, and we will get him. You have got to stay calm, though. We need you Oliver, okay? Do it for Barry.”

“Alright,” I said, sucking in a deep breath.

We entered the main portion of the hangar again, “Anyone got any ideas?”

“Ray thinks he can hack her biochip now that she is no longer in quantum flux,” Caitlin reported.

“Would that tell us the time or just the place?” Iris, equally as worried, inquired.

“Just a locational ping.”

I racked my brain, “When was she experimented on?”

“Around May 2012 they started.”

“Where?” I questioned again.

“Floy Woods Hospital, Central City. It had closed down by then but-”

Cisco took over from Cait, “It looks like their electricity was still on around that time.”

“Ollie, mind catching the rest of us up to speed?” Sara asked.

“Whenever I’m in a stressful or panicking situation, my mind always rolls onto Lian Yu. If she was in a similar state, surely she was thinking about where her trauma began. Or, if not that, a place that made her feel safe, her apartment, family home, ect. I’m hoping it's the former because the latter means she could be there at any point in time.”

“Right.”

“I’ll take Oliver and whoever needs to come on the waverider to check out his hunch. Hopefully we will find him then.”

“Let’s go! He hasn’t got time to waste,” I yelled.

“The rest of us will stay here and keep looking for clues,” Kara said.

I shot my way through the security detail in the building before carefully scouting out the rest. Heat signature saw three people in a singular room, one atypically warm. Barry. I bust my way through the door, easily taking out the two other people. I quickly cut off the restraints and picked off the metahuman dampeners.

“Ollie,’” Barry said, weak.

“Come on Bazza, let’s get you home,’ glad to have him back in my arms.

“What about her?”

“Sara should have taken care of her by now. She’ll be on the waverider, in cuffs.”

“G-good.”

“What did she do to you?”

“S-s-some s-s-s-”

Barry collapsed into Oliver, and Oliver cradled him in his arms. He carefully made it up to the roof where the waverider awaited. Barry needed treatment quickly.

They told the team to meet them back at star labs asap. Barry could be treated best there. I stepped off the waverider and quickly ran through star labs, trying to get to the cortex where the medbay was. Caitlin was already there, waiting to treat Barry.

I walked out of the lab, unable to see Barry like that. He’s going to be fine, I told myself. I went into the speed lab. I found some balls, and I began throwing them up and pinning them against the back wall with arrows.

Barry’s POV

My eyes fluttered open. I felt outstandingly weak.

“O-oliver? Where’s Oliver?”

“I’ll go get him,” Caitlin said.

“Gave us a real scare there Bear,” Joe said, concerned, “How are you feeling?”

“Weak, but I-i’ll be alright.”

“We got her by the way,” Cisco chimed in, “Locked away in iron heights.”

“Nice.”

“Barry,” Ollie said, making his entrance known.

“O-ollie?”

“Right here,” he said in his low, sugary voice.

“Thought you left,” I whispered lowly.

“Never, darling,” he said, equally as quietly.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Joe said, leaving. Cisco and Caitlin followed.

Oliver wrapped his arms around me, “You idiot. My idiot.”

“I’m here, right? Nothing happened.”

“But it could have.”

“Hey, look at me. I’m fine, Ollie. We’re fine.” I leaned in for a kiss. He happily obliged.

“I just thought I lost you.”

“I thought I lost you, too.”

“Love you,” he smiled.

“Love you more.”

He let it slide. Just this once.

[trilies]

an argument for AO3

So I’m in a conversation with someone who is kind of in the “against AO3″ camp, and they asked me a couple of questions. Namely, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable with pedophilia? Isn’t it sketchy that a beta website is asking for so much money despite reaching its goals?

And my answer became so long... I figured it might as well become its own post. Please bear in mind that this is cut from a whole conversation.

But here it is.

------

No. It doesn't seem sketchy to me at all. Why would it? I know we make jokes about how much money tumblr has cost the various sites which purchase it like Yahoo, but there's some truth there: it's really expensive to host a website to thousands and thousands of people. It's why we see so many tumblr owners trying to shoehorn in ads or make people buy services, or why Photobucket tried to pull that truly atrocious bullshit a year or two back. Without image hosting capabilities (tumblr and photobucket's big thing), the strain isn't as huge.... but AO3 is MASSIVE. It is hosting literally thousands of accounts, millions of stories. That's massive on a server scale alone, ignoring all the other work they do. Yeah, it's in beta... but that's because it's trying to reach a goal of being as good a fanfic archive as they can be, and they don't believe they've reached that goal yet. Being in beta means they can better listen to their uses on shit like tagging systems and make those changes. Not to mention, again, they are INCREDIBLY transparent. If you are worried about where the money is going, you can go on the site and they have all their stuff up there.

As for the pedophilia subject matter.... Please give me a moment. because there's honestly a lot to say on that particular issue, if nothing else. This will take a while, so if you see this and there hasn't been a reply yet.... I'm still typing lmao.

To start with, of course people are uncomfortable about pedophilia. However, there are a lot of problems with how pedophilia is viewed or *used* as an accusation in the current fandom climate.

For example, in honestly EXTREMELY recent times, I was told I was "defending" pedophilia because I disagreed that a character (an immortal food gijinka) was "minor-coded" or "designed as an underage teenager". (As a note, an argument for this view was that the character's breasts were too small.) When I pointed out, hey, that's kind of a fucked up accusation to throw at a complete stranger, especially as I am a CSA survivor, I was told "You have to be lying about that, then, because a real CSA survivor would understand."

c o o l

That's just my personal experience that happened within a couple of months. Other people have talked about running into people who think that a character turning 18 means they're a pedophile for still dating a 17 year old. Or running into people who think a 40 year old dating someone in their 30s is pedophilic. Or believe that even SHIPPING characters who were not yet 18 was pedophilic if you yourself were over 18.

(Of course, you also have the kinds of people who try to use Moral Purity as a way to bash ships they don't like. I once saw someone try to claim that a popular mlm ship, A/B, was pedophilic because one half of the equation looked young.... when some other artists drew him... Of course, on the side, this person liked to also get angry that *their* favorite ship, a dude/chick ship composing of A/C, wasn't more popular. So. You know.)

So that's one half of the problem: the word "pedophile" being so warped that a lot of people now have no idea if the person using it has a genuine concern or if the accuser is trying to smear someone who doesn't ship the same thing. FFnet and Tumblr have gone with the "burn it all down" approach, which hasn't actually helped anyone and is, to boot, sloppily moderated. So we know from history, from experience in cases like mine, that it doesn't help in that area.

The other half of the problem is... How far is too far?

This is where "anti" culture begins to find similarities with the whole Warriors for Innocence thing. If you completely and blindly block an entire tag, or anyone associated with it, you have to ask: who are you hurting? Warriors for Innocence hurt actual rape victim, and queer folk, and a whole lot of others. Far as I can tell, anti culture is on the route to the same thing, because I have yet to see appropriate answers to a lot of issues.

If one says "anything with underage sex in it is bad and should be banned", what about fics that tackle it in a serious manner? The young adult novel "Speak" deals with rape of an underage girl and how she works through that mental trauma; are fics with stories equivalent to that allowed? Do fics with underage sex have to focus purely on how it is Horrible And Bad to be allowed? Does only a chapter have to be allowed? A paragraph? An author's note? A tag? Or are we allowed to never explore dark subject matter?

Is fic with underage content in it only horrible if it's someone over the age of eighteen who writes it? Can a teenager write smut (terribly written as it may likely be) between teenage characters? Can a teenager write smut between a teenage character and an adult character? For the record, i did in fact, over the summer, run into someone who said that teens/minors "shouldn't even know about NSFW", which is asinine to me, because Abstinence Only is a terrible thing to put in schools, and somehow worse in a way when you try to put that into effect in fandom. If the answer is 'yes', what are you going to do, demand to see people's birth certificates in fandom?

(As a note, I think this is a terrible message to put into fandom for teenagers because I believe it will inevitably lead to self hatred and a warped view of sex. If you make the extremely simplified black-and-white statement of "teens and sex should never go together ever in any way", that's going to mess up teens who are starting to experience arousal in their bodies. The message, whether intended or not, ends up as "NSFW things are bad, which means my brain which thought NSFW thoughts is bad, and my brain thought those thoughts because my body had these feelings". )

(This is bad for any average teenager. This will be especially worse to CSA and rape victims, along with queer youth who, in a lot of places, are still struggling with their bodies and/or feelings because the world is still pretty damn queerphobic.)

Speaking of CSA and rape victims, what about those of them who write/read underage ships or dark content as a way to cope with what happened or Just Because? That's a thing lots of us do, especially those of us who don't look like the Perfect Victims people can use as an excuse for whatever crusade they're waging. I've heard anti types go "Well, it's an unhealthy way to cope" or claims that CSA/rape victims who write such dark content are "just as bad as their abusers"... But are they psychiatrists/therapists? Are they the psychiatrists/therapists of *those specific people*? Will you moderate this kind of content by forcefully interrogating CSA/rape victims to out their trauma to a complete stranger? Will you demand to speak to their therapists? Over fanfic?

When I was a teenager, I wrote all sorts of stuff. I wrote dark dub-con fic, because I liked to explore those dark feelings in the process and the aftermath separate from myself. I wrote a fic with a fairly young teenage girl (what age was kh2 kairi? who even knows, I sure didn't) falling for a MUCH older man built like a brick shit house so that there was never any doubt to him being an adult, even giving him her first kiss, because they were my favorite characters, I wanted both of them to have a moment of happiness (that i promptly ruined but hey), and, *in this fic*, I knew it would be alright. I knew the girl would always be in control, she'd be the one making moves, that the guy was nonthreatening and kind and protect her and work alongside her.

(and then I began the process of killing him off in the next paragraph through him saving her life, but, like. Drama (tm), baby)

This was all good for me. At an age where I was young, vulnerable, and figuring out weird shit like arousal and romantic feelings, it was *invaluable* to have a space where I could explore all of that while relatively safe from actual danger, even if the stuff I wanted to explore was a little messed up. This whole thing against AO3 wouldn't have helped me, and I'm pretty sure it's not helping a lot of other people too.

There is an issue with underage people and sex stuff- not just in fandom but in culture at large. We have Hollywood dressing up young girl actresses in super slinky or revealing clothes. We have schools saying girls basically should never wear shorts, and capitalism fucking this up further by only selling SUPER SHORT shorters. We have media of all sorts giving us adults, whether in real actors or character design, in the roles of young people. (See: "how do you do, fellow kids") We should probably take more care about fandom spaces, so that people of all ages don't feel pressured to engage in sexual shit they're not 100% game for or into, or just have it shoved into their faces without consent. It's a complex issue... and it's not stuff that can just be 'banned' and have that fix it.

AO3 has on its plate a very complex problem that will, if we're all honest, never have a perfect answer. It has given us the best that can possibly be asked for. It obeys the law by not having actual child pornography on it (aka visual proof of actual real children, defined by us law as such), which is closest to "objective" we can get at the current stage in humanity and state of fandom. It has a very comprehensive and moderated tag system, so that people can post warnings along their fic so that people don't stumble onto shit they don't need to, and so that people can moderate their own reading experience to some degree.

If some people aren't comfortable with AO3, that's fine. However, most of us are getting annoyed not with those people, but with the people who just blindly say "AO3 supports child porn and is probably stealing money" (statement simplified for the purpose of this post). It shows an ignorance of the fandom history that lead us here, no understanding in either AO3's practices or how expensive it is to run a site, and no consideration for how complex this problem can really be. It would be great if this was a black and white issue, if there was an easy answer as just "banning" certain kinds of content... but there isn't. And that's where I am.

[thetiredbiwrites]

Fabulous, Darling

Requested by @megaduppi​ “Hiya lovely! I was wondering if I could request a Seb x reader where they are stuck together in Sebs apartment because of quarantine and they start doing random things like Seb giving in to the reader and letting her do his make up and him looking completely fabulous? It can be funny and fluffy I am honestly craving it”

A/N: Thank you for the request 💖💖 hope you don’t mind, but I’m not entirely comfortable writing for the actors, nothing against anyone who does. So I made this a Bucky x Reader instead and they’re stuck in their shared apartment. It’s more fluffy than funny.

A/N2: I don’t know a lot about make-up. I can do basic (what is contouring?😂). So it’s pretty vague about what make-up she does and more from Bucky pov

5 weeks. 5 weeks you had been stuck in your apartment.

You were proud of your home. How you’d decorated, the layout and colours- the way you made it your own. But seeing the same crap everyday, the same rooms and nothing else, God, you were sick of it.

The urge to redecorate grew every day. The online shopping and endless scrolling through pinterest in boredom didn’t help.

The first week had been productive, making you feel good and enjoy the time. Time to spend with Bucky and doing everything you put off or didn’t have time for because of work. The two of you had tided and cleaned every room, sorted through all your clothes and shoes and reorganised the kitchen cupboards.

Now there’s nothing left to do.

Meaning whenever you thought of something to do, or came across ideas on various social medias or online shopping, you did it.

Bucky rarely said no to you and he certainly didn’t start now. He was just as bored and desperate for something to do.

This meant that when you asked for his special pancakes at midnight, he made the damn pancakes. You both sat together in your pjs watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and eating a stack of pancakes covered in syrup and toppings until 2 in the morning.

When you gave into the urge and decided to rearrange the living room, he just smiled and went along with it. Helping you move every piece of furniture and arranging all your photos and nick-nacks. A heated debate about how to order the DVDs broke out.

You won.

He had insisted the two of you stay fit, keep exercising, every day. Especially with all the snacking and pancakes you both ate. So when you declared a Just Dance competition, he danced like he never had before.

Ok, so making the prize sex-related definitely aided his decision and pushed him to beat you.

But even he had to admit, after 5 weeks, sex wasn’t that exciting and most of the time, neither of you were particularly in the mood.

Which is how you ended up feeling like grandparents one day, doing a 1500 piece jigsaw while soft music played in the background.

“Uugh, these pieces are all the same colour!”

“You just have to be patient. We’ll get there.”

“I have been patient, Bucky. I’ve been patient for 5 hours and we’re not even half done. Don’t laugh at me.”

Bucky finished the puzzle as you gave up and baked cookies instead.

More than once, Bucky somehow found himself sitting on the floor with you on the sofa behind him, doing his hair.

You practiced different kind of plaits and other basic styles to trying out more intricate styles. Although you did resist buying flowers and bows to put in his hair.

The day you curled his hair had left you in a fit of laughter until you couldn’t breathe. Plaiting his hair did leave it wavy, which, depending on the type, looked pretty good. But he could still tie it back into a low bun when that happened.

Bucky, however, wasn’t amused. Especially after you took a photo and sent it to the group chat. Bucky had immediately showered, letting his hair go back to normal after that one.

The last couple of days, you had a new idea. One Bucky didn’t agree with.

He drew the line at you doing full make up on him.

It’s not that he thought men shouldn’t wear make-up. You had painted his nails a few days ago and he approved of the sparkly red. He had kept them that way, even when he did the weekly shop.

No-one had commented but at a time like this, who was going to care about a man’s painted nails. But even when it’s normal he wouldn’t have taken it off.

Well, if Sam wasn’t around anyway. He wouldn’t be caught dead with painted nails, especially sparkly red ones, around Sam.

Sam wasn’t against men wearing make-up either. Hell, if Steve or Tony, or any of the guys really, showed up with nails painted, he’d compliment them. Probably in a jokey manner, but compliment none the less.

Bucky, though, would never hear the end of it. It’s just how their relationship went.

He’d do the same back. Bucky could pretend he wouldn’t. But he would.

By day three, Bucky felt his resolve crumbling. He tried thinking of reasons why he didn’t want to do it but couldn’t actually think of any. But the thought of wearing make-up didn’t agree with him.

But those big y/e/c eyes staring up at him and the pout on your lips, akin to that of Puss-in-Boots, was making it hard to say no. Especially when he didn’t have any reasons against it.

He made it through the morning but by 2pm he found himself yet again sat on the living room floor, legs crossed. His fingers tapping against his legs as he contemplates running until you give up on the idea. But where the hell is he going to go? There’s only so long he could stay locked in their only bathroom.

This time you were also sat on the floor, legs crossed and facing him. You were aware of Bucky’s nervousness but you knew, well, you were 95% sure that once it was done, Bucky would realise it’s fine. If he didn’t, he can take it off straight away. It was just the two of you so it shouldn’t be a problem.

You knew his limits. This meant you’d lightly push him into letting you do this, but if he really didn’t agree, if it ended badly, you wouldn’t sent a photo to the group. You wouldn’t even take one. The two of you knew each other well enough to know these limits in various situations and not cross them.

For now, you had collected everything you needed from the bedroom and started laying it out on the floor. You faced the mirror away from Bucky so he couldn’t look until you had finished.

Bucky’s eyes flicked across the products as you laid them out. Noting all the liquids and powders, brushes, some foam egg thing, and… is that a pencil?

“How much stuff do you need? That’s a lot of products. Why are there so many brushes? I know make-up is like art but I thought you were just doing something basic and simple, y/n? Y/N, please, don’t make me do this.”

Bucky’s complaining stayed in his head as he looked up at your bright eyes and kind smile, his mouth closing as the words died, forming a pout instead.

“While you do look so adorable,” you lightly grabbed his chin in one hand, smushing his lips together. “Quit you pouting. It’s gonna be fine.”

Bucky’s eyebrow raised, biting the inside of his lip, his eyes flicked between everything on the floor and your face.

“Bucky, baby. You got nothing to be nervous about. Besides, it’s not like anyone is going to see or know.”

Bucky slightly nodded his head to the side, grunting in agreement but clearly still unsure.

“Specifically Sam, he doesn’t have to know anything. You’re on your own with him. I mean, if anyone else dared to say anything, I would tell them to grow up. It’s 2020. If a guy wants to wear make-up, let him wear the damn make-up. Many of them are better than me, although let’s be honest that’s not too hard, and it’s makes me jealous. Who taught you?! Can you teach me? They look amazing.”

Once Bucky cracked a grin, huffing a laugh, you clapped your hands and picked up the first product. You had rooted through your stock to find foundations that were the closest to his skin tone and found some you had kept after your friend had stayed a few months back.

“Let’s get started” you wiggled your eyebrows and Bucky felt himself relax. Not entirely, but enough to sit still and let you work.

Bucky wished some of his girlfriend’s excitement and enthusiasm would pass to him. As you added more and more to his face, he felt his nerves increasing again.

The feeling of your hand softly resting against his skin, from his neck to his face, as your other gently moved brushes and product across his face was, admittedly, a great feeling. You relaxed him and the touches were light and soothing.

Yet his heart still beat a little too quickly and his head continued overthinking.

He felt guilty for being so worried. He’s watched you do your own and your friend’s make-up many times over the last few years. But he still couldn’t help the image of a clown or a kid who got into mummy’s make-up from being projected in his head.

As you asked him to close his eyes, he tried to think of something else and his mind ran with the image of a little kid covered in make-up. Except it was your kid who had gotten their little hands on all these products.

He could hear your laughter as you came upon the scene. The way your kid would smile, wide and toothy, like their mothers, as you took a photo. Bucky could see you cleaning the little one up before teaching them how to do it properly.

Bucky’s mind couldn’t stray from this path and as he heard you humming a song he didn’t know, another picture developed.

On your face was a beaming smile, love pouring from your eyes and a soft glow surrounding you from the sun through the window as you softly sang to the small bundle in your arms. A little hand reaching out from the material as Bucky approached and wrapping around his finger.

Bucky saw himself chasing after your young son, smiling at the loud and carefree laughter leaving the little boy as he caught him and subjected him to tickles.

Learning all those hairstyles you subjected him to this past month so he could do them for your daughter. Her hair like his but eyes like yours, shining bright and paired with a smile when he’d finish. Her little arms wrapping around his neck and hugging as tight as her little body could.

Bucky focused back on the present when he heard you sigh. Realisation flashing across your face as you shot up and ran towards the bedroom.

“Don’t look!” you yelled across rooms and his hand retreated, holding it close to his chest like he’d touched fire and abandoning the mirror sat inches from him.

The mischievous grin on your face paired with the glint in your eyes had Bucky worrying again. Noting your hands behind your back, hiding something from his view, had his heart rate picking up. Again.

His eyes reluctantly closed when you asked and he tried not to flinch as you touched his face, giggling as you did.

“Ok, all done. You can look now.” You announced, holding up the mirror.

This time it was your heart racing, becoming restless the longer the silence stretched. Bucky’s eyes glued to his reflection, wide eyed and jaw dropped, his entire body frozen.

You began to worry you had pushed him too far.

“You hate it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you-“ “No, no,�� he cut you off, large hand resting over yours as he finally took his eyes off his reflection. “No, I don’t hate it, actually. You know, I really like this colour.”

A smile spread across your face, huffing a laugh as Bucky batted his eyes, referring to his eyeshadow.

He looked back at the mirror, moving his head to inspect different angles.

“Glitter’s a bit much though, don’t you think?”

“Nope. You look fabulous, darling!” Bucky laughing at your over-the-top British accent.

“Am I pretty?”

“Oh, baby, you are the prettiest.”

“Well then, I guess I better share.”

You only caught a glimpse of the devious smile before your boyfriend launched at you, knocking you on your back.

Laughter bounced off the walls as Bucky pinned you down and rubbed his beard all over you, covering you in red glitter (matching his nails, of course).

“No, wait stop! I wanted to take a photo first!”

---------

A/N: I have an instagram (@/elberex). I was thinking of posting sneak peaks on there? 🤔🤔

[moneypedia]

How to Defend Against False Accusations: A Personal Defense and 5 Guidelines to Protect The Truth

August 5, 2018 By Drew Shepherd

[Note: This post contains details about an undiagnosed case of borderline personality disorder (BPD). These details are included for informational purposes only, not to spread hate towards people with the illness.

If you or a loved one have been diagnosed with BPD, however, you may want to avoid this article.]

Guilty until proven innocent.

That’s the new norm these days.

Our current social climate has made it empowering to be a victim. And any abusers left standing must be exterminated—whether they’re guilty or not.

Please don’t think I’m downplaying the experience of actual victims though.

I know what it’s like to be among the lowest of society, and the struggle of real victims is part of the inspiration behind this site.

But the inconvenient truth is that all these “abusers” aren’t the monsters they’re made out to be.

Why do I say that you ask?

Because I’m one of them.

And this is my story.

The Accusation(s)

During my early twenties, I got involved with a girl who I later realized had borderline personality disorder (BPD).

I’ve already written about the experience and I’ve alluded to it multiple times since. So please read that article before this one if you haven’t already.

BPD is a serious mental illness, but most people have never heard of it, let alone know how to diagnose it.

If you’re not aware of how people with the disorder act, this post will come off as a rant against an innocent girl who liked me—which couldn’t be further from the truth.

But to summarize, the most notable symptom of BPD is the inability to regulate emotions. It’s a symptom so powerful that a sufferer’s feelings can define his or her reality. And this is what leads to many false accusations.

Manipulation, emotional abuse, cheating, promiscuity—she publicly accused me of all them.

It’s part of the process of “painting someone black.” The BPD person goes through cycles of both extreme love and hate for their loved one, but once the relationship ends, the other party is permanently devalued.

Of course this treatment is reserved for those in close relationships with the BPD sufferer. Outsiders will only see a victim pleading her case.

I’ve stayed quiet on these accusations so far since most of them don’t have any substance, but I unfortunately made one mistake that appears to give her claims some validity.

So I’m sure that she already has, or eventually will use this evidence against me. And if her false accusations were to gain traction, they would not only destroy my reputation, but also the legitimacy of the message I present on this site.

The latter is my primary reason for defense.

I’ve always said that the Bible is the basis for my moral judgment, and that couldn’t be more important than in sexual matters.

Now do I always control my lustful impulses and thoughts?

And do I always prevent myself from viewing images I shouldn’t see?

No.

I’m a Christian but I’m still a sinful human being. Controlling lust is part of the lifelong battle against sin in the Christian life.

But when it comes to things like fornication and adultery, I’ve held true to my stance on abstinence.

And as tough as it is to be a twenty-something with this stance in our sex-saturated world, it’s beyond frustrating to be accused of doing the complete opposite.

I’m an ambassador for what I believe. And I can’t allow anything on this site—faith-related or not—to be diminished because of one person’s claims.

So I’ll go into detail here about what really happened, and then I’ll show you how to defend against false accusations once and for all.

Drew “The Player”

I’ll preface my story with a little background information.

I was going into my last semester in college, and it had been about a year since I saw my accuser in person.

Things didn’t end well between me and her the last time we were “together.” But I was admittedly still interested in her—even with all the red flags.

It appeared that both of us were sad with the way the first go ‘round ended. So I foolishly tried to work something out with her before the semester started.

To my surprise, I was ignored and indirectly shot down.

How a normal girl would’ve reacted

It hurt pretty bad after putting myself out there for someone I thought still cared. But rejection is a part of life, so I moved on.

What’s crazy though, is that she changed her mind at some point afterwards. And even though I never got a direct response from her, she apparently assumed we were in a quasi-relationship.

Now fast forward to February.

It was the week of Valentine’s Day. And while I did still think of her, I wasn’t sending a Valentine’s Day anything to a girl who I didn’t trust, who now lived in a different state, and who couldn’t even respond to my direct communication.

The only reason I entertained the thought of us getting back together—if we were ever truly together in the first place—was because she hoovered me back in.

Hoovering is a term that describes actions similar to what its namesake, the Hoover vacuum does.

It’s a tactic people with personality disorders subconsciously use to suck loved ones back in after a failed relationship.

In this case, she used one of the social media apps we both had to convince me that she was open to a renewed relationship, and that she had changed for the better.

But at this point, I was just focused on schoolwork because I had no clue what this girl was thinking.

I had a senior project for an external company that took most of my time that semester.

My project group and I met just about every weekday. And at the time, we were all trying to meet a deadline coming up the next week.

The day after Valentine’s Day, one of my teammates mentioned that we should go play trivia at a local bar. But being the introverted party-pooper I am, I declined.

My schedule involved waking at around 5:30 each day. My teammates were always out too late for my liking, and I knew I’d never make it back in time to get enough sleep if I went.

So I gave the whole, “Thanks, but no thanks” spiel even though I knew they wouldn’t let me off that easy.

Our team was a pretty tight group—especially for four people who were assigned to each other at random.

We had a ton of inside jokes by the end of the semester. And they were the first to tease me at graduation because my honor stole nearly fell as I walked across the stage.

So naturally, they all had a good laugh at me for not wanting to miss my bedtime.

Of course it was all playful fun though. I did get back at them numerous times over the semester, but I’ll admit that I have an off-kilter personality that lends itself to being teased.

So anyway, we went our separate ways and I headed to bed.

The next day, I saw an email from the night before saying that I was invited to a school-specific social app. I didn’t see the email until the early morning though because I went to bed early.

I had never heard of the app before and I was skeptical. So my first thought after waking and reading the email was, “What the heck is (app name here)?”

My second thought was, “Who’s the funny guy who sent this?”

Now I knew it was someone who previously had my email address.

Of course any student could have pulled that info from the school’s directory, but I doubt anyone would have gone through the trouble of searching their class roster, finding me, and then using my email address for the sake of hitting me up on an app.

So it had to be someone with whom I worked with closely or had a personal relationship with.

With these facts in mind, I falsely concluded that it was a prank from my teammate that the rest of the group was in on.

They had just gone out together the night before. And they always found a way to mess with me—even when I wasn’t around.

So just like any other time I felt I was being pranked, manipulated, or taken advantage of, I played along with the hope that the other party wouldn’t realize until it was too late (and this has been my M.O. since I was a kid).

But doing this, in hindsight, was a terrible idea.

Any form of participation on what I later realized was a hookup app would paint me in a bad light. And the consequences of my actions weren’t as clear at 5:30 in the morning.

After I made a quick profile—complete with pictures no man would ever use if he was truly seeking casual sex—I waited about 15 minutes for a response that never came.

Then after realizing how bad my actions could appear without context, I quickly deleted the app and went on with my day.

I’m not sure if I completely wiped the profile I created. But since the app was lesser-known and low key about its hookup aspect—it’s not like I signed on to Tinder—I figured this wouldn’t be a problem.

Outside of my own actions with the invite and the app though, I don’t know anything else. But there’s a chance that a troll profile made 10 minutes after I woke could end up biting me. And that’s why I’ve chosen to address it.

Now, I’m almost certain this invite was from my accuser. And I still kick myself for not recognizing the true source of the bait.

My actions gave her the apparent confirmation that I was “playing the field.” And within the week, she either started, or just made it obvious that she was sleeping with another guy to spite me—a wild and disproportionate response to the thought that your S.O. may be seeing someone else.

So once I confirmed that this actually happened, I ghosted her and all her drama, focused on my schoolwork (which led to my first 4.0), and then went along with my life.

People with BPD are notorious for doing stuff like this. It’s the reason why a popular book covering the illness is called Stop Walking On Eggshells (affiliate link):

They’ll cry about a lack of communication but then ignore you when you reach out to them.

They’ll go on about how lonely they are while sleeping with one of their (or even your) “friends” behind your back.

They’ll say you’re too stupid to complete a task but discredit you when you do it, and then raise the bar higher so you won’t reach the new mark.

After a while you won’t know what to do because she’ll never be satisfied. And everyone else will chalk it up to you not knowing how to treat a woman.

No-win situations and constant testing are common to those in relationships with these people—especially in regards to anything sexual. So I presume the invite was a test to see if I was some dirtbag who would cheat on his partner.

Now I’d hesitate to call it cheating either way since she ignored my attempts to directly communicate, and I had no idea what our relationship status was.

But the other “fact” she gathered was that I was a player who enjoyed casual sex (an assumption that would have driven a younger me mad with laughter).

Look, I understand that I don’t have a squeaky-clean Christian boy appearance—going through trials doesn’t purify the outside after all.

But that doesn’t mean I partake in the same activities those who look like me may be into. And it for sure doesn’t mean that my moral character is anything different than what I present on this site.

Of course it doesn’t help that I’m black either…but I won’t go down that road.

I should also note that I don’t have a personal Facebook or Instagram account. So it’s tough for others to know much about my life unless they read this site or talk to me or my loved ones personally.

This blank space makes me an easy target for accusations since I can be unknowingly attacked through mediums where I can’t defend myself. And there are no videos of me playing with my dog to fill the holes left by my “shady” lifestyle.

Usually this isn’t a problem as most of the people I meet don’t care about my online presence. But of course there’s always one person who assumes the worst case scenario. And it’s sad that in my case, this person was someone I genuinely liked before.

These obsessive behaviors were nothing new though:

This same girl cried sobbed in the middle of one of our classes—when we were both in our twenties mind you—because I didn’t initially return her interest.

She would go from spaced-out to depressed and then stare at me like it was my fault.

She even accused me of cheating after seeing a pic my mom took of me when I was at dinner with my family.

So you can imagine the relief I felt when I closed the door on that for good.

At this point, the only ones who still believe her lies—or to be fair to the illness she has, her reality—are people I’ve never met.

But I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just annoyed that my life is still negatively affected because I fell for the wrong girl.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the honest truth.

How to Craft Your Defense

So now that my story’s out of the way, how do you fight your own false accusations?

It’s not too difficult.

Just follow these 5 guidelines to protect yourself in both the present, and the future:

1) Remember the Alibi

As tempting as it is to piece together a story that makes you look like a saint, you have to ensure the truth you present is actually…well, true.

Since I couldn’t remember all this off the top of my head, I dug through my old emails and group conversations to get the timeline right. And I could always use them again if legal action was involved.

It also helps that I have an archive of posts here that clearly present my personality and the mistakes I’ve made.

You can even compare this post to the one I wrote on BPD earlier and you’ll see numerous similarities. If anyone thought I was lying, they could search the other 40+ posts here too to see that the story adds up.

But if you don’t have thousands of words as supporting evidence, just take your time, breathe, and write down what happened as best as you remember.

False accusations can cloud your memory when you first hear them, and your emotions will push for a raw defense. But if you start writing what you remember, you can put that passion to good use now, and update your writing later with more facts.

A story set in writing will be a great resource to have. You don’t want to lean on your memory or your speech when the pressure’s on.

If you write down what happened, you’ll also find other bits of evidence you’ll need to prepare your defense. And if your audience is really concerned with the truth, they’ll take all the info they can get.

2) Compare the Fruit

Perhaps the easiest way to expose the shakiness of false accusations is to note the shakiness of the accuser’s lifestyle.

This is by far my least favorite technique though since it appears to be an attack on character instead of the accusation itself. But understand that those two targets aren’t mutually exclusive.

A person who usually acts one way is almost certain to do it again.

And no, that fact isn’t judgmental. It’s simple probability.

This is going to sound like I’m bragging about my accomplishments and attacking her character, but let’s compare some notable points about my life and my accuser’s:

I improved to at least a 3.5 GPA in my last four college semesters within a STEM major. But I’ll admit my accuser was booksmart, so we’re pretty much even there.

I have never gotten blacked-out drunk (or even consumed alcohol). I have never taken an illegal substance. And I have never lived a promiscuous lifestyle. My accuser has done, and probably still does, all three.

I landed a stable job in my field more than a month before I graduated, and I’m still employed there today. My accuser barely held a job as a bar server about a year after graduating with the same degree.

Again, I don’t like expressing my achievements, and I never want to attack anyone’s character. We all make mistakes, and I made one of the biggest mistakes any student ever will (which she contributed to by the way).

But when someone’s lifestyle displays a clear pattern of incompetence, recklessness, and mental instability, the validity of their claims also takes a hit.

And that’s without mentioning that I’ve written the equivalent of a book here at HFE—a site where I cover my own shortcomings just as much, if not more than my accomplishments—on my own time and dollar because I believe it will help others.

So knowing all this, let me ask you, who do you think is telling the truth?

A tree’s fruit always gives it away.

Know who you are and know who you’re dealing with so any other lies are dismissed as the jokes they are.

3) Change “I” to “We”

The most unfortunate thing about false accusations is that no one’s waiting to hear a verdict.

As soon as those words leave your accuser’s mouth, you will be facing much more than one person.

Friends, family, social circles, even whole communities may turn against you.

And what began as a defense against one liar becomes a battle against an entire army.

So what do you do when this multitude of warriors stands against you?

It’s simple.

You gather the troops.

Find people who can vouch for your story. Get help from friends who aren’t blinded by the lies. Ask people who were neutral bystanders to explain what happened since they’re not biased.

I know I can get anyone from former classmates, friends, and family members to acknowledge the truth of my claims.

And since I know the mental issues my accuser deals with, I can also refer to a psychologist or another mental health resource.

An understanding of my accuser’s mind is one of the best counters to her claims. Yes, she acts in unstable ways, but they’re predictably unstable, and numerous people have experience with the problem I have now.

You shouldn’t be afraid to get professional help either.

Lawyer up if it’s serious enough.

Slander and libel are legit crimes. And if you can prove that your life is heavily impacted, especially financially, you may have a case.

So don’t go at this alone. You can bet your accuser isn’t.

4) Go One and Done

The biggest mistake people make when presenting any argument, defense, or reasoning is that they over-explain themselves.

Sure, you want to be as thorough as possible in your explanation, and you should reference points of that original argument to answer questions. But there’s no need to add to your stance or sate a mind that will never believe you.

If you’ve taken the necessary steps to present and defend the truth, you have to live with the results.

Learn to be comfortable with the fact that everyone won’t like, listen to, or believe you. Because the more you add to your original defense, the weaker it will appear.

You’ll also introduce more room for error. And it would be a shame for a memory lapse to cause an otherwise solid defense to fail.

Remember that it’s only your job to present the truth. Not to make others believe it.

I’m confident that my defense removes any ammo my accuser has left. So now the only claims she can bring against me are accusations of neglect—which don’t matter since I’m not her parent—or causing hurt feelings—which isn’t a crime in America yet.

I presented the truth one time, and now there’s no need to address her claims again.

Every accusation doesn’t deserve a response. So stay true to what really happened, and let people think what they want afterwards.

5) Don’t Even Fake It

These accusations have made me realize the importance of the Bible’s command to, “Abstain from all appearance of evil.” (1 Thessalonians 5:22 KJV)

It’s not enough to just avoid evil acts. You have to avoid situations where you could possibly do them too.

For instance, plenty articles on false accusations describe how to protect yourself against false rape claims. But if someone can accuse you of something like rape without an obvious fabrication, you are in over your head.

You can’t reach the point where a verdict is decided by a “yes” or “no.”

It’s one of the many reasons you shouldn’t sleep around in the first place. You are putting your life in the hands of someone who could easily change their mind in the morning. And you have to stay out of that gray area.

Remember to guard your character at all times. You never know when you’ll need to fall back on your integrity.

For example, I remember one conversation I had with a friend a few years back, and my accuser happened to be in the room.

My friend noticed that I received a few glances of interest from girls. So out of the blue he asked, “Drew, how many girls do you get?”

He chuckled while asking the question, so of course it wasn’t anything serious. He didn’t ask about anything explicitly sexual either.

So being the joker I am, I said something along the lines of, “I don’t know. I lost count.”

Then the both of us laughed it off.

But there’s a chance my accuser heard those words and immediately assumed the worst.

It would have been ridiculous to say something like:

“I’m sorry sir, but I am a Bible-believing man of God who has accepted the challenge to live righteously. How dare you imply that I live such a heinous lifestyle?!”

So I had a quick laugh and moved off the subject.

But even this could have added to her claims. So now I try not to even joke about stuff like that—at least not when I’m around people who barely know me.

You should do the same. But don’t limit your efforts to watching your tongue:

Always dress in a respectable manner.

Avoid the crazy nighttime venues—they’re magnets for people like my accuser.

And please don’t go to a hotel room belonging to a member of the opposite sex.

Presentation always matters.

Avoid the appearance of evil, and it’ll be impossible to even accuse you.

Grant Me That Chance

I’ve had enough headaches from my past relationship, and I’d rather not think about it anymore.

But it was important to defend myself here before any other false info leaked.

I hope none of it came across as too aggressive though. I wrote all of this to clear my name, not to get revenge.

From all I’ve seen, read, and now experienced, real victims don’t go out of their way to destroy their abuser’s life. They just want justice and a chance to finally move on.

So if anything else comes up about this, please remember this point and grant me that chance.

Contrary to what some people think, I don’t hate my accuser, and I hope she’s able to turn her life around.

If there was a normal version of her who didn’t have what she had, I’d love to meet her. But the ship has sailed on anything between me and the real her.

All I want now is peace and the freedom to live a good life. And I’m sure that’s all you want too.

So remember who you are, take a stand for the truth, and then defend it with your life.

And who knows? Someone else may come to your defense if you do.

-Drew

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter two: Never put that on again

Time had long since discovered that his exasperation in dealing with the assembly of goblins that were the legendary heroes of Courage was proportionate to the amount of supervision on any given evening. For example, Wild could and would test any idea he had unless strong armed away by Twilight. Chastising him (or snarking at his ideas if you were Legend or Warriors) meant that you were ignored as surely the result would be so spectacular as to shut up all the unbelievers!

So far, only the incident where he shield surfed down a mountain to perform acrobatics and snipe fifteen black blooded wolfos had managed to shut up anyone. Even Twilight who knew just what Wild could do once properly motivated had whistled low and patted his protege on the back, praising his skills.

Incidentally, Wild was not currently the source of Time's annoyance, despite (because of) Twilight's inability to reign him in. His quiet pup had woken up miserable, red-eyed and sniffling. Yesterday, Sky had exhibited similar symptoms Thus, their group had extended their stay to allow two of their own to recover. Normally, that would have cause some antsiness in a few of the boys, but Wild had been glued to Twilight's side since the start, and Wind had taken his role as Hyrule's aid very seriously.

Time's lips twitched upward. No, no, he shouldn't be comforted by their good natures at the moment. The two hadn't returned from 'a quick supply run' and the sun was setting.

“Still not back?” Legend asked, fretting (or as close to that as their spike could display).

Four shook his head, scrutinizing the hills around them.

Great. They could ill afford to stay out at night on their own. Stallfos might emerge from the open plains and surround them. Normally, in a situation like this, he'd exchange a look with his pup and the situation would resolve itself at a beastly pace. Not an option, at the moment.

Wild yelped as his slate flashed to life, bringing out the voice of their missing Link. “Guys? Guys, can you hear me?”

At once, they converged on Wild, who fumbled with the slate. Bringing it to eye level, he showed them the image of Wind's and Hyrule's faces smushed together over the glass. Their hair had collected an impressive collection of branches and leaves, to the point where Legend pithily wondered if they were learning how to camouflage.

“Hardy har har,” Wind replied.

Wild ignored them both. “What happened to you guys? And where are you? It's almost night.”

“Well, I was gathering the herbs when I noticed a rare mushroom a bit down the hill, and a couple of helpful flowers, and one thing led to another-”

“We got jumped by river zoras.” Wind grunted. The bruises on his arms weren't bleeding, at least. “Had to make a run for it through the forest.”

Hyrule chuckled nervously. “Did you guys know that it's very easy to get lost in the woods?”

“Yes,” Time and Wild deadpanned in unison.

“Well, we're lost.”

“Sounds like a job for our furry friend,” Legend deadpanned, though there was a hint of worry in his eyes. They hadn't seen Wolfie in this world yet, for obvious reasons.

“We can't count on him jumping out of nowhere to find our comrades before night falls.”

“Why not?” Warriors asked, swapping the rag on Sky's face with a cold one. “Wolfie usually shows up when it's convenient for us. I am certain the beast follows us from a distance. It's probably tracking Hyrule as we speak.”

Time prayed to Farore for strength, least he threw his arms in the air and gave up, metaphorically speaking. He just wished his pup worked up the nerves to reveal this one secret. He'd started to suspect that Twilight enjoyed some of the perks of this secrecy a bit too much. None of the others acted as guarded around Wolfie as they did Twilight. They'd accepted the presence of a wild wolf rather easily.

The pup's face when he'd mentioned that had made Time's heart ache.

Time sighed and shook his head. The choice wasn't his.

“You would rather take the chance and leave two of our own alone before night?”

Warriors colored. His gaze sharpened. “Does anyone have a way to locate them quickly?”

Legend shook his head, mumbling something under his breath about having been alone most of the time. Fair in itself, few of them had had adventures in groups. Time's own experience was companion that stuck close to you until the end.

But past that…

Time ruthlessly squashed the bout of nostalgia threatening to return and focused on the present. “Perhaps.”

He gestured for Wild to lend him the slate, and Wild dared not disobey. Even through the screen, the two lost boys cringed at his intense look.

“Hyrule, do you have enough magic for that shapeshifting spell of yours?”

The guilty expression faded in favor of confusion and reluctance. “I… I'd be able to turn into a fairy, yeah, but I can't fly very high if that's what you're thinking. And Wind is stuck on the ground...”

Time shook his head. “That's not why I asked. If you turn into a fairy and stay with Wind, I can find you.”

“Oddly specific,” Legend commented, scanning Time for this ability to find fairies.

“Well, he does lead us to fountains more often than not,” Four replied.

Time passed the slate back to Wild, his hand lingering a second longer on the cub's shoulder. This one's worry was not hidden behind barbs. The scars on his side echoed the ones inside, and without Twilight's reassurance… well, he'd be fine, but not as fine as he could be.

Time bent over his bags and rummaged through for one of the more 'exotic' items he'd found on his quests. Prickling on the back of his neck told him the rests had started staring. Well, Time thought as a mischievous idea got hold of him, at least, they'll have reason to stare.

With his back to them, he hunched over to hide the great silky locks, struggling for a moment with proper adjusting. Then, he whirled around. 

A horrified, blood curdling scream exploded out of Warriors' mouth.

The group startled and drew their swords, including Twilight and Sky, who barely could prop themselves up by their elbows. The tense moment lasted only long enough for them to gather up their wits and realize that no, this was still Time despite the horrifying sight. 

Warriors was on the ground, his face pale and his hand over his chest as if he'd narrowly avoided a heart attack. “W-w-warn us before you put on monstrosities like that!”

The Great Fairy Mask covered his entire head when Time had been a child, but as an adult, he knew the other heroes could make out his smirk. “But your reactions are half the fun, captain.”

Warriors' energetic cursing flew right over Time's head and the mask's long, flowing pink locks. Pink lights like fireflies started floating by his head, and a tug in his head made him turn Four's way.

“Got a fairy on you?” he asked, voice slightly distorted, almost a woman's suave, lascivious.

More shaken than he'd like to admit, Four nodded quickly.

“Good. Keep it on you. I shouldn't be too long.”

Time adjusted the mask over his head, annoyed by the tightness of the fit, and took off, marching on over the hill like a pink nightmare incarnated. It was thus no surprise that only Legend dared go with him.

***

Hyrule, long since changed back to hylian form, returned to the camp feeling six inches tall. He'd gotten distracted again. Old habits die hard and he had been free through his travels, no maps, never having anyone to wait back for him, and he'd led Wind into an ambush! Not to mention how he made everyone else worry.

“Hyrule, it is good to see you back and unharmed,” Warriors told him with sincere warmth.

Which was why it felt strange for his instincts to scream at him to put some distance between them. “But?”

“But if you ever provoke the old man into putting that mask back on, I will join him on the search. And when we find you, I will skewer you, and then myself on the Master Sword.”

Bonus:

“So, what if it had been Wild instead of Hyrule that had gotten lost?” Legend asked, passing the food around the campfire.

Time swallowed carefully, considering. “Assuming Wolfie wouldn't be around?” Legend nodded, neither him nor anyone else noticing Twilight's fleeting guilt. “I own something else that might have helped.”

Warriors choked. “Beh- wah- excuse me, old man?! You subjected us to that when you had another solution?”

Time's enigmatic air thickened. “The alternative was far worse.” With a theatrical flourish, their stubborn old man of a leader pulled out a pig's face and held it up. “This thing allows the user to picks up a scent trail like they were a hungry pig.”

“Why the hell would you not use that one instead?!” Warriors screamed.

Time savored the bite he had in his mouth, because he doubted his next meal would be as pleasant. However, he simply couldn't help it.

“Because then,” he started, letting his tone verge into a whine, “then my poor nose would be even more assaulted than it is now.”

“HEY!”

Four jumped in the air when Twilight snorted his milk through his nose.

In the end, Time was right. The next meal was a goron spice special that no one managed to finish, besides Wild and Hyrule.

[s13e06]

Recuerdos Perdidos Pt 2

Draco Malfoy / Female Reader

Harry Potter AU

Warnings: swearing

Words: 3.6K

Pt 1, Pt 3, Pt 4 

-

Chapter 2

When you felt yourself begin to wake the first thing you noticed was how cold your skin was. Your body felt stiff and frozen as you began to rise slowly; a whimper escaping your lips as you did so.

Taking a look around you realized that it was still pitch black outside. You assumed that not much time had passed since you’d fainted.

You moved to rest your hands and knees while taking a few deep breaths before attempting to stand up again.

This whole thing was starting to freak you out a little bit. Nothing made sense and yet there was an obvious case of cause and effect here.

You couldn’t claim to be a detective, you were certainly no Nancy Drew… and you also couldn’t pretend like you were some kind of genius. But it certainly didn’t take one to put two and two together here.

The blonde boy in the photos, this mansion, and the three images that flashed through your mind before fainting. They all had something in common and they all had something to do with you. Like some kind of repressed memories that your mind was keeping you from knowing about. Hence the pain and fatigue. But even though that all made sense to an extent…. You’d certainly never heard of anyone experiencing such intense physical pain when trying to remember something. Usually, they just wouldn’t be able to remember, right?

You didn’t know why your body was reacting this way. You’d only connected the dots so far but unfortunately, there were too many missing pieces.

So what would you do next? What should you do next, is probably a better place to start. Part of you wanting to just rush to the door of this creepy looking mansion and demand some answers. But, you knew logically that that wasn’t a good game plan. You were sure that whoever lived there wouldn’t appreciate such a rude awakening.

Considering that the sight of this place caused the pain to come back, you could assume that the boy in the photos most likely lived here. But the question was did he still live here? Or like you was he only visiting?

The only thing you could really be sure of at this moment was that any longer out here in the cold and you were sure to get sick. That would be a setback that you really didn’t want to deal with right now.

Giving one last glance back to the house as you stood up, you turned to head back to your grandparent’s house.

-

Shuffling back in your home you felt immense relief come over you as the warm air enveloped your cold tired body.

Your body was screaming at you to just collapse right there on the old plastic-covered couch and let sleep take over. However, you knew it would be best to take a hot shower before going to sleep. After all, you were quite dirty, you noted while glancing down at your clothes.

Walking into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom you began to undress slowly. Recalling what had transpired out there you couldn’t help but feel a little scared about what you might find out next.

As you stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over your body you let out a long and exhausted sigh. You recalled the three images you’d seen before fainting.

A white rose. The detail of it in your memory was so vivid as though you’d stared at it for hours once before.

You weren’t sure what this white rose meant to you specifically but you did know their meaning in general. A single white rose was a symbol of love. As though to say “you are the only one for me”.

The thought of what that could be implying brought heat to your cheeks. How is it possible that there was a whole romantic period of your life that you couldn’t even remember? God, this was frustrating.

Then there was the second image. A small brown box with delicate carvings. There wasn’t much you could figure out about that one. You wish you could see what was inside it but given that it was only a fragment of a memory… there was no way to know. For now at least.

The last image was by far the most perplexing to you. A long smooth stick held in a pale hand pointed right at you. Was it a weapon of some kind? You couldn’t understand how something small like that could do any physical damage though, it wasn’t even sharp. Really what it reminded you of was a magician’s wand. Especially with the way it was being held. But that… that didn’t make any sense.

You laughed out loud a little in disbelief at your ridiculous thought. A magician’s wand, really? What was someone casting a spell on you? How silly.

Well, whatever it was it seemed to be significant enough to breakthrough your repressed memories.

Shutting off the word you slipped out and began to towel off. Wiping the fog away from the mirror you looked at your reflection absentmindedly.

In the morning… you were going to go back.

-

When you awoke from your deep sleep you glanced lazily to your bedside clock. The time read 11:30 am. A bit of a late start to the day but considering what happened last night you weren’t surprised to have slept in so late.

By the time you were finished getting ready and heading down the stairs, you realized that you were actually alone in the house. That was a bit unusual.

Heading into the kitchen you saw a note stuck to the fridge.

“Y/N,

I hope you don’t mind that we let you sleep in a bit. I’m sure the jet lag must have gotten to you. Help yourself to the rolls and cut fruit on the counter. Your grandfather and I popped out to the town for a bit and should be back no later than 4 pm. See you then!

Love, Nana”

You smiled at the note before taking a few pieces of bread and eating them quickly. You didn’t have any time to waste. Only a few hours before they’d be back and you knew what you had to do in the meantime.

Clutching the pictures in your hand you made your way back to the mansion.

-

The whole walk there you debated on what you would say to anyone you may come in contact with. Would it be best to just tell the truth about what was happening or would that just make you look crazy? Maybe it would be better just to take it slow and start by befriending whoever was around. Assuming that someone was around at all. But given that it was such a large house someone was bound to be home right?

Hopefully…

Your questions were soon answered though as you drew closer to the house. Standing outside the gate was a man. You couldn’t see his face but you could see his figure.

He was stood straight, back to you as he stared up at the sky.

You glanced up yourself wondering what he could be looking out but found nothing interesting to be seen. Maybe he was just lost in thought.

Once you were stood about 10 feet behind him he seemed to notice your presence because in a rather dramatic show of things he spun around to face you.

Now that you could see his face you noticed that he didn’t look too happy to see you.

He appeared to be about your age, very pale skin, and strikingly blonde hair.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, annoyed.

Wait. There was something about this man. Something familiar.

You stared at his features and replayed the sound of his voice in your head.

Then there it was again.

The pain.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked while stepping a little closer. Clearly able to see the way you were doubling over in pain so suddenly.

At the sound of his voice, you felt the torment double in intensity. You fell to your knees in front of him as tears began to form in your eyes.

Suddenly you could hear a voice in your head.

It was his, calling your name and laughing.

But when you looked at him in front of you he wasn’t speaking at all… only staring in shock.

“W-who are you?” you asked weakly before collapsing completely, darkness once again closing in on you.

-

When you woke up you felt… warm.

Blinking a few times to let your eyes adjust you took in your surroundings.

You were laying in a large bed in a very large room. The interior was dark but expensive in taste, to say the least.

Where were you?

You remembered feeling the pain again while outside in front of that man. You must have fainted after that. So how did you get here?

Slowly sitting up in the bed you threw your legs off the side and hopped onto the floor. Someone had taken the liberty of removing your shoes and placing you in bed. Most likely had to carry you all the way here as well. But who? The man from outside?

Reaching into your jacket pocket you pulled out the photos again, studying them for the millionth time. This was definitely the same person. He had been right there in front of you and yet you couldn’t even speak to him without falling unconscious. It was as if your mind became completely overwhelmed with his sudden presence.

You had to see him again. You were so close to finally getting some answers and you mentally cursed yourself for fainting at such a crucial moment.

Just when you were about to reach the bedroom door it opened on its own.

Your hand stopped midair and to your surprise, it was the man from before standing right in front of you.

“Oh good you’re awake,” he said while giving you a gentle once over.

You only nodded slightly before retreating slowly back into the room.

He walked in and shut the door behind him. The air between the two of you was awkward and judging by the way he was glancing at you timidly… he knew who you were.

Enough of this nonsense. You needed answers and fast before you pathetically passed out again.

“N-not to sound rude or anything but I’d like to know exactly who you are.” You started trying to muster up as much of a tough guy voice as you could “For some reason I know you, I just can’t remember how and it hurts every time I try to.”

The man looked at you with a slightly shocked expression before a smirk quickly replaced it.

“I’m glad to see that you haven’t changed much,” he said with a small chuckle while taking a seat in the chair located next to a large dresser.

Following his movements closely with your eyes, you chose to make your way over and sit on the bed again. At least this way if you fainted again it would be a soft landing.

“So you do know me then,” you said feeling a little bit nervous.

“I could never forget you, Y/N” he replied with a sad smile.

His words sounded so sweet and yet his face was so sad.

“Well, it seems that I’ve forgotten you. But it doesn’t make sense as to how… all I know is I found some pictures with you in them. But I don’t even remember your name” you frowned.

“It’s Draco… Draco Malfoy” he said after a moment of deliberation.

“Draco Malfoy” you repeated softly as a stabbing pain rushed through your head again.

”Does it hurt?” he asked, looking over you with concern.

“Incredibly so” you laughed trying to lighten the mood a little.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault…” he admitted while casting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you now. You did confront me rather boldly after all.” He laughed “I honestly never thought I’d see you again though… at least I was hoping I wouldn’t”

You frowned at his last words. What was that supposed to mean?

“We met before when you came here on holiday five years ago. We became fast friends but you had quite a nasty fall just before you left. When you woke up you didn’t remember me at all and since you were leaving soon I felt it was best to keep things that way.” He told you a little too calmly. “Perhaps the pain you’re experiencing is your body remembering the impact due to facing pieces of your lost memories. That’s why I feel it may be my fault for not helping you remember before you left”

Looking down at your lap you thought over his words carefully. Although that explanation mostly made sense… a few things didn’t add up.

Bringing your head up to stare into his silver eyes you quickly caught on to what was happening.

He was lying to you.

If he was set on telling you this version of events then you were just going to test how fast he could make things up.

“Do you mind if I ask you something then?” you asked trying not to give away that you were testing him.

“Of course” he replied quickly, putting on a friendly smile.

“When parts of my memories came back I saw a few images of objects flash through my mind. I was wondering if you could maybe help me to make sense of them?” you asked with a gentle smile.

“I’ll do my best,” he said looking just the slightest bit unsure.

“The first thing I’d like to make sense of is a rose?” you said, sitting up straighter.

“A rose?” he asked seemingly confused.

“Yes, a single white rose to be exact” you reaffirmed.

Draco shifted a little in his seat as he stared back into your eyes unmoving.

“Ah yes, I think I remember something like that. My family has a garden out back and you often liked to visit it. That must be what that’s about.” He said thinking thoughtfully.

You studied his movements as he spoke, trying to detect any telling that he might have had. But you were coming up with nothing… maybe he was telling the truth?

“Interesting… I did always like gardens.” You smiled at him “The next one I’m curious about is a small brown box. It had detailed carvings surrounding the outside but I don’t remember what it is or what’s inside”

At this Draco’s face wavered for just a moment as if being overcome with emotion ever so briefly.

“That… I, unfortunately, know nothing about, sorry” he shot you an apologetic smile.

How interesting…

“I see… well, that’s ok, I suppose I can’t expect you to have an answer to everything” you laughed lightly, still not buying his story. “But there is one last thing I was curious about,” you said while glancing down at his hands which rested neatly on his lap. They were rather pale.

“Let us hope I have an answer for you on this one” he offered you up a grin, which you returned before letting out your last question. This one was sure to catch him in a lie.

“There’s this… stick-like object. Long and smooth, clearly carved to look that way. Held in a hand that looked quite like yours. The best way I would describe this object would be to compare it to… a magician’s wand” you finished with a questioning look.

Watching what little color he had slowly drain from his face you knew that you’d caught him in a tough spot. This reaction also confirmed your suspicion that this wand-like object wasn’t just some prop toy.

“That… I don’t know anything about that. It must have been someone else. I’m not even sure what you’re talking about, to be honest. Such an object… I have no knowledge of it.” He told you while his brows furrowed together ever so slightly.

He was lying to you right now. You knew it for sure. It was his hand holding the wand-like object and he obviously knew something he didn’t want to tell you. This whole thing was starting to piss you off. Why was he lying to you? What was he hiding?

One thing was for certain. Either he told you the truth right this instant. Or you walk out and never come back. There was no point in wasting your time on somebody who didn’t even want you to remember them.

Standing up from the bed in one swift motion you stepped towards him menacingly. You weren’t certain that he’d feel even the littlest bit intimidated by this move of power on your part but you would use the current height advantage to the best of your ability for now.

“Listen here, Draco. I don’t know who we really were to each other or what really made me lose my memories. But I know that you’re lying to me right now. I’m not an idiot and don’t appreciate being treated as such. I know you know more than you’re letting on and I can’t understand why you’re keeping it from me. But if you have no intention of ever telling me the truth then I think I’ll just take my leave.” You huffed down at him.

His eyes widened in surprise as he stared up at you from his seat. His mouth opened slightly as he began to search for the words to respond to you.

“Y/N, I-I'm sorry I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve told you all I know” he mumbled out, clearly backed into a corner.

He was still insisting on keeping up the lies. You couldn’t really place the feeling that rushed through you as you looked down at him with disappointment. But the next thing you knew you felt the all too familiar sensation of hot tears streaming down your face.

This was too much. Everything felt like it was crashing down on you. Pulling you under and every time you’d get a gasp of air something else would shove you back down. Why was this all happening to you?

At the sight of you crying Draco immediately stood up and reached out a hand to you as if about to try and comfort you. But without even thinking you harshly slapped it away from you.

“Don’t you dare touch me when all you’ve done so far is lie to me. I fly all the way here after I find some weird pictures in my parent’s attic. I thought that someone here must know what happened and why I can’t remember. But so far all I’ve gotten was a bunch… a bunch of fucking bullshit! I wouldn’t have even found those stupid pictures if my parents hadn’t died. If they were still here I wouldn’t even be bothered with trying to solve this mystery. But they’re not here! They’re gone and they’re never coming back and all I wanted was to find an answer to this one thing. When everything else in my life is falling apart I thought that maybe I could at least fix this. But I can see now… that I’ve just wasted my time here. But don’t worry cuz I’ll be lea-“you couldn’t even finish your words before you were pulled into a tight embrace.

Your body stiffened at first from the intrusion but soon you felt yourself relaxing as you relished in the feeling of his warmth. You felt your body begin to shake a little as your cries turned into sobs. This was so frustrating. The person who caused all this was also the one who was making you feel safer than you’d felt in a while. There was something about being in his arms that felt so familiar to you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I hate myself more than anything for what I had to do to you but since that day, not a second has passed where I didn’t think of you. I did it for you, hoping that you’d live a better life away from me but in the end, I suppose it was selfish of me wasn’t it?” he whispered into your ear as he held you tightly.

His words didn’t make any sense. What did he mean “what he had to do to me,” you thought. This was all becoming too much to handle. Your head was beginning to spin again and you felt like you had to get away no matter what. No matter how much a part of you desired to be held by him longer.

Standing your ground you brought your hands up between your chests and pushed him away firmly.

“None of this makes sense. Your words are contradicting each other and I can’t handle this anymore. Whatever we were to each other… whatever you supposedly had to do to me… it must not have been that significant to you seeing as you can’t even bring yourself to tell me the truth” you said to him harshly.

He looked at you sadly but didn’t say a word.

That’s all the confirmation you needed.

Turning quickly you began to stalk towards the door, ready to leave Draco and all the mysteries behind you in this room forever.

But just as you had pulled the door open you heard a desperate voice call out from behind you.

“Y/N, please wait… please. I’ll… I’ll tell you everything” he choked out.

You turned back to face him, carefully taking in his appearance. Looking at his face you saw just how emotional it had become.

For once… he was being sincere.

“Ok,” you said, silently shutting the door again and crossing your arms over your chest.

His body visibly relaxed at this.

“I’ll listen”.

------

AN://  Thank you all for the encouragement regarding this work! I know it's just starting out but I hope that you all find it enjoyable enough. Please share any thoughts you might have with me, I love to hear from you all!

[marquiswrites]

Out of Time [1/25]

Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Sam Wilson, Rhodey, 

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Reader,

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2155

Warnings: language, mentions of death, dumbassery

Author’s Notes: Day 1 of @panicfob‘s 25 Days of Fics, Prompt: Snowflakes 

Summary: After the final battle with Thanos, Bucky finds himself struggling. Trying to fit in with the Avengers without Steve, trying to maintain a life out of the shadows, trying to stop himself from spiraling back into darkness. And then, the team finds a woman encased in ice, buried beneath a castle. Maybe it was just that he remembered his own time in Cryo, maybe it was the way she was so obviously outside of her own time, maybe it was just because she was beautiful… But something about this woman drew him to her. 

And Bucky needed to find out why.

Chapter 1: Snowflakes

“We’re picking up a lot of energy readings.” 

Bucky sighed, wiping a hand over his face before leaning over to see what exactly Rhodey was talking about. It had been difficult to keep the Avengers going after the final battle with Thanos. Even more difficult now that Steve was gone. 

For Bucky at least. 

“We’re gettin’ pop ups like this three times a week, how’s this one any different.” Sam jerked his chin towards the map, arms crossed over his chest. 

Maybe Bucky wasn’t the only one having a hard time coming to terms. 

Rhodey glanced up between the two of them before sighing, reaching a hand to point at the location. “This isn’t some city that’s dealing with a surge of power. And it’s definitely not some punk kid trying to make up for lost time with his pranks. That right there, that’s a castle in the middle of scotland. Satellite imaging is picking up nothing but a ruin, but it’s lighting up brighter than a christmas tree on the scanner.”

Bucky frowned, looking closer at the map. Letting out a soft huff. “That’s Buchanan Castle… Got turned into a hospital during the war.” He ignored the prickling of his skin that meant both men were looking at him with interest. “Lots of men were brought there. But I was never close enough to have been there. Just remember reading some reports offhand, made me smirk because of the name.”

“You just… remember off hand reports?” Rhodey raised a brow before shaking his head. 

“And this coming from the guy who can’t remember who he is half the time.” Sam smirked playfully, bumping his shoulder to Bucky’s. Making Bucky roll his eyes. 

“Don’t have to remember that, to remember that I kicked your ass.”

“Whatever you say, Barnes.” Sam snickered once more, then nodded to the screen. “Alright, so what’s got a pile of rubble that is probably more than a little haunted going off like that Rhodes?”

“Honestly… I have no idea. It’s sending off power surges like crazy. But there’s nothing there. Literally. Just rubble.” Rhodey knotted his brow before looking up to the other two. “Think we need to call in a strike?”

Bucky wet his lips before shaking his head. “No… No, me and bird brains can handle this. Everyone is still licking their wounds. But get Shuri on call. If it’s technical, she’ll be our best option.”

Rhodey gave a signal nod. 

Bucky gave an apologetic smile to Sam when he caught his wry smile. 

“Hey, I might be the one with the shield now, but we’re a team Barnes. And that means if you know weirdly specific shit about haunted castles that are surprisingly older than you, you get to take point.”

Snorted, Bucky pushed away from the table. “Whatever you say, bird brain.”

“Alright asshole, get geared up, we’ll take the big bird for the drop.”

 __

Bucky met him at the Quinjet exactly an hour later, both of them in their gear. It felt odd to be in something so similar to what he had worn during the war. 

At the same time, it felt like coming home. 

Nodding to Sam before they climbed aboard, a pilot setting their destination while the two took their seats. “So, any idea of what to expect?” “Don’t have a clue, we’re going in blind here.” Sam turned his gaze to the front, and Bucky knew him well enough by now to know what was weighing on him. 

“You’re not him.” 

Sam’s gaze jerked back to Bucky immediately, it was the first time either of them had brought him up since the funeral. 

“That Punk would drop in without a parachute and just find a way to make things work. Idiot that he was.” Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands. Watching as his fingers twisted and fidgeted. Swallowing past the lump in his throat. Though he managed to let out a huffed laugh. “Never thought twice when it came down to it. Took all the stupid with him…”

Sam remained quiet, watching Bucky closely. Then offering a softer smile when Bucky finally met his gaze. “You’re an idiot too, don’t get me wrong. But you’re also the type of man to take a parachute. That’s why he left you the shield. You’re some of the best parts of him, but smarter, more experienced…”

“You talk about me like I’m an old man, old man.” Sam’s lips turned up in a wry smile before offering Bucky a solemn nod. “But I appreciate the pep talk.”

“That’s me, smooth with the words.” Bucky chuckled. Letting them both fall into a comfortable silence. Considering how different it was compared to that first car ride together. When the only thing that they had had in common was Steve, and their joined job of trying to protect the punk. 

He didn’t realize when he had let his guard down around Sam, but he knew that he was the better for it. Better for being able to work beside the man who had taken up his best friend’s shield. Better for being able to help support him. 

In a way, Bucky thought it was healing. 

It was that thought that lingered as he started to doze. 

Even two years ago, the thought of relaxing enough around other people to let his guard down enough to do so would have been impossible. Maybe Steve had gotten something right after all. 

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed when a hand clapped to his shoulder, startling him out of the dreams, hands flexing in an attempt to keep from reaching for the knife at his belt. 

“Redwing is doing recon. We’re hovering above the landing sight for now.” Sam spoke quickly, reading whatever information was being fed across the red lens of his goggles. Taking a seat beside Bucky. “Nothing on the surface so far. And still no source for the power spike. Rhodey?”

“Comms are live. We’re not picking up any interference, which is, to put it plainly, weird. A spike like this should make it almost a dead spot.”

“Unless it’s trying to communicate with something.” Bucky spoke softly. His gaze gliding over the floor by his feet. Trying to work out the possibilities. 

“You mean, like a signal being sent out? But what would use an electrical spike for that?” Rhodey questioned softly. Sam turning his gaze to the Soldier. 

“We live in a time where there are actual Asgardian Gods and men who can wield magic. Are we able to rule it out?” Bucky shrugged. “Don’t know why I feel like it’s a message, just do.”

Sam nodded. “Alright, Rhodey, see if we can analyze the spikes. Or if there are any other sorts of waves that we can pick up. If this is a message, I really want to be sure that it’s not warning us that we’re about to go all Independence day again.”

Bucky frowned sharply, his gaze twitching to Sam.

“Hell man, have you watched any of the movies I suggested to you?”

“Can you two figure out your movie night dates later… We’re picking something up… It’s… It’s morse code.” Rhodey sounded almost impressed. Or maybe it was afraid. “I wasn’t taught this, sending you the data.”

“I can read it. Sam?”

“What, am I supposed to just make a sound or something?” Sam baulked, incredulous at the prospect.

Bucky grit his teeth. “Tap it out against the floor or something. Or just say dot and dash. And I need a piece of paper.” Pushing himself to stand and heading for the front. He exchanged a few words with the pilot that led to him taking his seat beside Sam once more, armed with a notepad and pen. “Alright. Start now.”

Sam started to tap out the morse code against the wall, carefully reading the spikes and drops to translate. Letting Bucky scribble each note as he did. The signal repeating over and over through the energy spikes that Rhodey was picking up. 

“--. . .-. -- .- -. ... / .- .-. . / -.-. --- -- .. -. --. .-.-.- / ... - --- .--. .-.-.- / .--. .-. --- - . -.-. - .. -. --. / - .... . / .... --- ... .--. .. - .- .-.. .-.-.- / ... - --- .--. .-.-.- / ... . -. -.. / -- . -. .-.-.- / ... - --- .--. .-.-.- / ... --- ... .-.-.- / ... - --- .--. .-.-.-” 

“It was a call for help…” Bucky let the pen fall to the floor as he stared at it. “But… There were never any bombings there. The germans never hit it… It was a place where prisoners of war were taken as well as our soldiers.”

“Hey… you alright?” Sam leaned closer, concern written quickly over his face before glancing down to the translation that Bucky had written beneath the morse code.

“Germans are coming. Stop. Protecting the hospital. Stop. Send Men. Stop. SOS. Stop.”

“Maybe they managed to keep it from being bombed?”

Bucky shook his head. “There wasn’t any anti-aircraft positioned there. They would have been sitting ducks…”

___

The two of them dropped to the ground. Each fingering their guns, sweeping forward from the quinjet to head towards the castle. Bucky turned his gaze up to it, looking at the way that it had crumbled, covered in moss and other growth. Something in his chest squeezing tight at the thought of what it might have looked like filled with the wounded and nurses. Barely coming back to his senses when Sam pressed past him. 

“Nothing yet. Seems like the readings are coming from below.” The bird brain said softly, apparently feeling the same sort of reverence for the place that Bucky was. 

“Guess we better find a way d-” Bucky grunted out the last word as he felt the floor crumble around him, scrambling as he fell to try finding a grip on the loose stones. Sam diving to his knees beside the other and clasping tightly to Bucky’s arm with both hands. 

“I think you found it.” Groaning as he helped tug Bucky back onto solid ground inch by inch. “What the hell do they feed you?” 

Bucky grit his teeth to bite back the remark he wanted to make. Instead turning on his knees to glance down at the hole that had just opened up. “Gimme your flashlight.”

“Use your own.” 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky nodded to the dark space before them. “Bit hard to do that.” Sam rolled his own eyes in turn before handing over the flashlight. Both peering in at what was exposed. Sweeping the light to try getting any sense of what might be hidden beneath. 

“Oh look, more moss.” 

“Fuck’s sake, Bird Brain, can you keep your beak shut for five minutes?” Bucky snarled, undoing the straps of his harness, carefully unclipping each section from the others before he was tying the ends together. 

“So… boy scouts?” Sam was grinning playfully once more, already taking up the slack to tie to the nearest mound that looked like it wouldn’t fall apart on them. Testing the pull while Bucky tossed the makeshift rope down into the hole. 

“Don’t even start. Keep in contact.”

Sam nodded, taking hold of the rope to help brace it as Bucky began his descent, the flashlight gripped between his teeth to keep both hands free, sweeping it back and forth in the hopes of actually finding whatever it was they were looking for. 

But so far all he could see down here was mist. 

Landing lightly on his feet, Bucky reached for one of the fallen guns. Switching the flashlight to his nondominant hand. “Doing an initial sweep. Nothing yet.”

There was something disconcerting about the mist. The way that it seemed to roll out from the opposite end of the room. Or how thick it was considering there wasn’t any sign of a source of water. Bucky frowned to himself, glancing over his shoulder to check his bearings before continuing forward. 

It was colder down here, cold enough to bring a chill to even Bucky’s skin, something he wasn’t used to with the serum burning through his veins. And it seemed to only get colder with each step. The mist taking on an almost unnatural glow. 

Bucky felt himself drawn further, his steps coming without thought, his attention focused inexorably ahead. The further away from the surface, the harder it was to ignore the pull. By the time he reached the end of the space, he was hardly aware of anything beyond the need to find the source. The coms nothing more than a mild buzz in his ears. 

He gasped softly at the sight. Soft pulses of light coming from within what appeared to be a coffin made of ice, the frost grown so thick he couldn’t see what, or who, was inside. He could have sworn that he saw snowflakes flurrying just beneath frost, dancing in time.  The pulses matched the energy spikes that Rhodey had found, matched the morse code warning about the germans. 

His hand moved of its own accord, wiping a clean streak across the top of the coffin. Leaning forward until he could make out a face. His breath catching at the sight, heart stopping in his chest. 

And then your eyes opened.

[tracingdreams]

Why Tasuki Hates Women: Fushigi Yuugi Special Story: Part 5 - Aidou

“The reason why I started hating women” 

 (Ore ga Onna-girai ni Natta Riyuu)   PART FIVE

~From Fushigi Yuugi Perfect World compendium, Vol 6, 2005

(Author Nishizaki Megumi, who also wrote the Gaiden novels.  Original work and illustration, Watase Yuu)

Translation is mine, any errors are also mine. 

Above image of Tasuki and his sisters - Eimin (centre), Rin’an (top right), Manka (bottom left), Aidou (bottom right) and Fuyou (top left).

Scene:

The Seishi are en route to Hokkan (yeah, before all the nasty kicks off) and they’re taking a break. Tasuki is recovering from his seasickness, and Miaka is keeping him company in the way only Miaka can - by eating lots and asking him probing questions. Miaka tries to figure out Tasuki’s perfect woman and Tasuki explains his childhood traumas - all five of them ;)

This is a longish story so I am splitting it into parts where there are natural divides.

“Hrm. I see.” Miaka murmured quietly to herself, then raised her gaze once more. “Ah! Now, I mustn’t forget the orthodox type…”

Tasuki looked at his companion with a fed up expression on his face.

“You know, the type that has a bit of an airheaded demeanour, who might be a little bit clumsy, that might be a bit of trouble to handle.”

“You pretty much nailed number five!” Tasuki raised his index finger as if to indicate Miaka had hit the jackpot. “To be more specific, I mean my fifth sister, Aidou.”

When youngest of Tasuki’s older sisters, Aidou, was just sixteen years old, she really loved to go out and about – as might be expected of someone at that age.

“Hey, sisters! Let’s go to the matsuri in the next village!”

“What are you talking about? We went yesterday and the day before! Seriously.” The oldest sister Eimin reproached.

“You don’t have any pocket money left. And you got Shun’u wound up in it as well, didn’t you?” The second sister, Rin’an, bent her neck to look at Aidou.

“And there were no handsome guys there anyway, An-An.” The third sister, Fuyou, tossed her hair as though she was bored with the whole subject.

“If there was a fight going on there, I’d be the first out of the door, mind you,” the fourth sister Manka yawned.

“Fine. Then I’ll take Shun’u with me.” At Aidou’s statement, all the sisters began to protest at once.

“That’s no good! Shun’u has a whole lot of household chores to be getting on with!”

Aidou glanced out of the corner of her eye at Shun’u who, for a brief moment had had the hopes of going to the festival, and was now looking glum.

“Well, then I’ll go on my own,” she decided.

“Do as you like,” her sisters replied. So, in the end, Aidou went out of the house on her own. It was a two hour walk to the next village via the main streets.

“Make sure you come home by evening!” Her mother warned, but Aidou didn’t reply, and set off up the path purposefully. However, even when night began to fall, Aidou did not return home. And, at the same time, it began to rain heavily.

“What’s going on?”

The mother, who was normally not easy to shake, started to worry and fluster about.

“I’ll go look for her,” Shun’u volunteered. Putting on his raincloak, he went charging out of the house like a fleeing rabbit. The truth was that, that morning, Aidou had had a bit of a cough, and Shun’u realised this now.

Fifteen year old Shun’u had one thing that he took particular pride in. His skinny body had grown, so he no longer needed to rely on his sisters in a fight situation, but the thing he excelled at most was the fleetness of foot with which he ran from his house. Over the past couple of years, Shun’u’s speed had got quicker and quicker. At this rate, he wouldn’t lose, even to a mountain wolf.

Shun’u ran through the torrential rain coming down with such ferociousness. It was as though he was parting the shards of water as they fell. As he came within reach of the next town, he caught sight of a small building standing on the side of the road. Maybe it was his imagination, but he had the sense that he could hear a moaning voice within that building. Shun’u flung back the heavy door.

“Neechan!”

Aidou was inside, shivering violently, and he carefully drew nearer to her. She had a tremendous fever.

“Sh…Shun’u!”

Shun’u was lost, not knowing what he should do now. Should he leave Aidou here and go for a doctor? But he felt that there was no time for that.

“Neechan, put this on.”

He gave his sister the raincloak to wear, and then hoisted her body up onto his shoulders.

“I’ll take you to a doctor right now.”

Hurrying out into the rain, which was falling more ferociously with every passing moment, Shun’u set off running a second time. From somewhere inside of that lean body was hidden a strength, the origins of which one might wonder, and Shun’u was able to make good progress.

“You did well, bringing her back in all that rain.”

As the doctor treated Aidou, he reflected that it was a good thing the youngest child of the family had quick wits and strong muscles. “If you had left it much longer, it could have become serious.”

Once the doctor had gone, for a while the whole of the Kou family gathered around Shun’u in celebratory mood. It was the moment of Shun’u’s birth as a full grown man of the Kou family.

“I guess you are a boy, after all! When it comes to the crunch, you’re different!”

“The speed of those legs is a real surprise.  Is there no way we can market them?”

“If you weren’t my little brother, I could easily fall in love with you!”

“Today I can see the whites of your eyes and your fangs for the first time!”

“Aidou, it doesn’t matter how, but you need to say thank you to Shun’u.” This last was the mother, speaking to the youngest sister, who lay on the bed in the middle.

“If only it hadn’t been Shun’u ,but some other handsome guy, though.” Aidou said.

“Aidou!” Everyone scolded Aidou at one go, but, then she caught sight of Shun’u’s forearm and stared, her eyes widening in surprise.

To be continued....

[fearfearer]

i have caught up with the magnus archives.

when i started listening, i started a text file to note down any thoughts/confusion/analysis/jokes i had as i listened. i isolated a few bits of it into standalone text posts that i already posted, but here is the whole thing, my long-form liveblog

thoughts on the magnus archive as i listen

jonny sims gives an impassioned performance of someone's statement-- a diegetic impassioned performance, as we witness it being interrupted and resuming-- and follows it up with his own judgement of merciless doubt. classic. why the impassioned performance? he's just a nerd. i dearly hope this is the fandom consensus

every episode ends at the perfect volume to which i have adjusted it, and then i start the next episode and it blares in my ears. i think the volume of the intro must be like 1.75x the volume of the rest

*makes a serious effort to listen to and remember the name and date at the beginning of the statement recording* *forgets completely within 2 minutes*

i saw a fanart of gerard keay and learned [1] that he must be a good guy after all, since they drew him lookin cute, and [2] that his name is not, in fact, jared key. what, am i supposed to be looking at the transcripts? understanding names properly? in my defense, jonny sims clearly articulates "Jared" when he says it. maybe i'm not as good at decoding british accents as i thought. [footnote added in later: ok good i'm not the only one who hears "Jared" and thinks "Jared" instead of "Gerard"]

when gerard keay was described as having numerous eye tattoos on his joints, obviously my first thought was, "including the ankle? so he's count olaf?" because that's definitely a way count olaf would disguise his eye tattoo: by tattooing eyes everywhere else too and becoming The Eye Tattoo Guy. anyway this is part of why i was not at first inclined to think favorably of gerard keay

"The first thing about this statement that makes me dubious is that it comes from a fellow academic." if you know shit fuck you

it has come to my attention that there are ships. makes sense... after all, everyone in every fandom is horny af*. i'm not in deep enough to ship yet but naturally i'm keeping an eye on it

*horny af for depictions of intimacy, sexual or otherwise, but mostly sexual

definitely feel like i need to be writing down every name i hear because they're never not cropping back up but for now i'll just let it all wash over me

so sasha has been replaced with not-sasha, huh? pretty sure. though i'm not good at distinguishing voices. but that sounded pretty different, and my listening comprehension wrt that table isn't that bad. <<as time passes i doubt myself more and more on this point but not enough to go back and listen again

"You believe me?" "Yes, I think I do." (smashes button labeled "CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT" and a loud buzzer sounds)

IT'S MICHAEL!!! i hope michael is a long-term good guy... he's not seeming like a good guy right now... he says he's mostly neutral. vaguely recall seeing a tumblr post about michael in the recent past but that didn't give me any hints and i don't remember it well anyway. michael's voice is good though. good laugh

i'm not good at visualizing characters based on descriptions, let alone based merely on their voices, so the only image i have in my head of jonathan is a furrowed brow

i'm on episode 49 and i don't like jonathan's distrust of his colleagues... i don't understand why his immediate suspicion was that gertrude's murder was an inside job. hasn't he just learned firsthand that the institute is not impenetrable? it's not inconceivable that someone could enter and shoot her and leave. especially when it took place in underground tunnels connected to unknown locations.

there's a good Old Lady Voice Combo on episode 62

so agnes montague was heavily cursed... that's my conclusion after episode 67

elias seems to tell jonathan to "get some sleep" a lot. though it IS generally good advice

episode 70, 9 minutes, 41 seconds: jonny sims's cell phone goes off in the background

small brain: ghost ship medium brain: ghost train galaxy brain: dirt train

i wanted to see if there was fanart of michael so i looked it up... i might as well have googled "blonde slenderman"

sweeney todd mentions tally: II

for some reason, hearing michael described this time as "a tall man with curly blonde hair and an unnerving laugh" puts an image in my head without my consent, and that image is chris fleming. now, he's not quite blonde, is he? but that doesn't change my casting decision, which is now set in stone. hope he does a good british accent

"YES i know what a meme is."

why is melanie the first/only one to notice that sasha is now not-sasha? is it because she is experienced in firsthand paranormal encounters (whereas the archivists are experienced in decidedly SECONDhand paranormal encounters, save for the worm debacle)? oh, my question was answered handily in the next episode. ok.

the replacer definitely limits its glamour to everyone except one person just so that it can be amused by the distress and confusion of the one person who can see the truth. that must also be the reason it chooses a completely different appearance. it surely COULD replace a person with their exact likeness; it just uses another face for fun, and to be satisfied that it can get away with it.

this table has appeared in like 10 episodes... Guess It's Crucial

jonny sims yelling while swinging an axe. jonny sims goes through michael's door (eyes emoji)

the idea of the replacer killing jonathan and not even replacing him brings to mind "AT LEAST RIDE IT YOU ASSHOLE"

wasn't expecting to hear from leitner at this point... he's dropping tons of lore here. too much lore. so much is happening. i have to say i kinda like it better when the stakes are not quite so high as this.

so at the end of season 2, tim and martin believe that jonny sims killed this guy, who they probably don't know is leitner... and we the audience believe that elias, now almost certainly a double murderer, has very quietly stabbed leitner to death. do i the audience believe it? i'll keep an open mind for now. things are not always as they seem. except when sasha was replaced with not-sasha, which was exactly as it seemed. [footnote added in later: looks like elias being a double murderer was exactly as it seemed.]

so jonathan sims is the name of the actual guy voicing jonathan sims. it's a cecil situation. so are they someday going to go back and retcon every episode to change his name, like with palmer/baldwin? or does jonathan sims just not mind being a character as well? as long as it doesn't devolve into RPS i guess it's fine. if there's fanart of jonmartin i hope it doesn't depict them as their actors bc that's too close for comfort to RPS

there's been a truly hellish c*ndy cr*sh ad that has played like 40 times between episodes and i'm pretty well convinced to never ever play that curséd game

elias has some serious blackmail for daisy, huh? that's heavy, having police characters in fiction who do extrajudicial killings. life imitates art imitates life

"i'm not on drugs or anything. ...what? i could be on drugs!"

he said "ample opportunity" but like "amplopportunity" with emphasis on the "plop"

it was obviously elias who delivered the statement to jonathan in hiding, because he knew he would record it despite not being at work... bc he's a nerd

so if gerard keay has eye tattoos, does that mean he also serves the uhh the observing or whatever? [verdict arrived at later: no he just has those because he's cool. or because his mom tattooed him. ok almost certainly the latter.]

"what do i feed it?" obviously you feed it filled up cassette tapes, jon... nothing has ever been more obvious

it's okay that jon very stupidly burned his hand to a crisp. you don't need even one hand to turn on a cassette recorder. you can do that with your nose

so if these people who are wax figures serve the desolation, and not-sasha was spending time at the wax museum, does that mean there is a connection between the replacer and desolation? i think that would make sense, since both seem to enjoy making people feel bad feelings. also i'm starting to think that agnes was not actually cursed, but that would mean she burned that guy on purpose after being nice to him... was she just really selfish in that way? using him to experience Dating and mutilating him when he crossed the line, so she punished him as a cruel goodbye? or just building up his hopes so they will be even more fun to burn down when the time comes?

"perhaps doing a bit of mindless filing will help distract you." honestly that is something i would like to do in real life... i do enjoy a good mindless task. though doing mostly mindless tasks 40 hours a week is not a fun time for me lately. but it would be better if i didn't have to listen to bad radio at the same time

what?! the friendly midnight acrobat described in episode 90 sounds totally non-threatening and i hope there's fanart of it. was that gym just jared the bone turner helping people live their twisted athletic fetishes?! [footnote added in later: YES! god i hope people draw these turn-boned creatures optimized for their gymnastic of choice. show me a person who remade their body specifically for the balance beam]

so the power endowed in the archivist by the viewening is that when you sit them down across from someone they want to interview, that someone will invariably spill SOME beans and think it was their idea. maybe? [footnote added in later: yes.]

ok so Michael "The Distortion" Michael, of fractals and golden ringlets, has specifically tormented this other michael, lichtenberg michael?

jon is clearly moved to ask questions by an external force because he's a sensible guy who would not try to ask questions when daisy is holding a gun on him

i think basira has precisely the same accent as estelle... or maybe just a similarly staccato way of speaking (or of line-reading)

[episode 93] elias: (holding jon's face between two pieces of bread) what are you? jon: (sigh) the archivist...

well, they did something i didn't expect them to do with this show: create a compelling in-universe reason for jon to read statements aloud. because obviously until now there was none.

jon did the cockney accents. (insert emoji for indescribable feeling)

here's the purpose of the pit: if we all climb in the muddy pit together at night, the earthquake will only jiggle us gently and no one will be inside collapsing buildings to be crushed. it's only logical

ok i was gonna say this before but why is jon still at georgie's house??? he's not on the run for murder anymore, right? he has an apartment with all his stuff in it, right? [footnote added in later: i still don't understand why it was like this.]

i will confess that usually once the credits start to roll i zip to the next episode, but this time i zoned out a bit and it's really funny that jonny sims reads out "Rate and Review Us Online" in his archivist voice

a third michael. this one is probably already dead though. unless distortion michael takes over this guy's body or something. oh, jon came in at the end of the episode to say precisely this.

was episode 100 mostly improvised? if so, that would be appropriate. but i wouldn't put it past them to write every stuttering bit of those four statements

MARTIN...................................................................................................................................................... (typed this as martin gave some of his own money to the lady who expected payment for a statement)

i'm skipping 100.1 through 100.5 for now... just for now.

ok so michael is michael but not lightning mike michael, and two of these michaels are dead, but one is something that has never been alive nor dead. got it

everyone's morality is much more gray than i at first anticipated. the only people who seem to be solidly and earnestly on the side of good, as much as possible, are jonathan and martin and basira and georgie and maybe tim?

so michael just died and was overtaken by pseudo-helen? neo-helen? ok. that's kinda too bad, as i enjoyed michael's terrible laugh and unpredictability. but the feeling of michael being revealed as having been michael shelley feels somewhat similarly disappointing (but a bit less staggeringly groan-inducing) to when the mysterious koro-sensei in assassination classroom was revealed to have been a twink in his past. because of course he was. (that's when i stopped reading that manga. too precipitously dumb to sustain my suspension of disbelief.) it's like, ok, you had an interestingly mysterious character going on, but having solved the mystery, what interestingness is left? not much. fortunately this was resolved by promptly ending the existence of this michael and instead introducing new and improved helen

ooh martin has the asky ability too huh? nice [footnote added in later: he only used it this one time, and i'm wondering if they did that and then forgot and decided that jon is actually the only one with asky ability.] [[another footnote added in much later: How did i manage to mistake jon’s voice for martin’s voice? How?]]

the way martin said "kumo ga tabeteiru" in episode 110... alexander j newall does not watch anime

"I'm a book." ~Gerard Keay, 2017

it was a few episodes ago now but i noticed that when jon clearly articulated "Jared" referring to gerard, elias was like "Jared? you mean Gerard Keay?" (pronouncing it like "Gerard.") there is definitely a disagreement between these two (actors) about how to pronounce that name

the eye, the spiral, the end, the stranger, the lonely, the desolation, the slaughter, the vast, the buried, the dark, the corruption, the web, the flesh, the hunt.

Q: why would anyone want one of these rituals to succeed? A: it's their fetish. it's their sexual fetish

ok time to make up names for each possible apocalypse. these are the real and true names according to me, who knows such things: the eye - the viewening the spiral - down the drain the end - the really end end the stranger - oh wait we know this one. it's the unknowing. the lonely - the alonening the desolation - Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Lightless Flame the slaughter - world war all the vast - the expansion the buried - the grand lahar (or the Smothering) the dark - the extinguishment the corruption - the Great Rot the web - the spidening the flesh - the smorgasbord (or the Eatening) the hunt - come and get it

gerry said there was no dark god of indigestion, but i can tell you from personal experience that there is. though it's true that there is also fear involved, so maybe no separate pantheon is necessary

i sense that there is a battle between people who say it like "gotta get myself oriented" and "i feel disoriented" (as feels correct/natural to me) and people who say "gotta get myself orienTATed" and "i feel disorienTATed," and this podcast falls SQUARELY on the latter team. they've said it like 20 times

idk why he has to be such a dick to helen. jeez

the guy who coded his mind into a computer, which of the 14 was that? the corruption? the stranger? gotta be the corruption, but that doesn't fit perfectly with its rot/bugs aesthetic...

speed -> speeding -> sped. heed -> heeding -> hed. thus i decree

in my dream i listened to a whole episode of this show, narrated by gertrude, and i was like "whoa this is cool" and i went to write it down but i was still in the dream and writing doesn't work in dreams :( also any successful writing in dreams doesn't transfer to real life paper :( the only snippet i remember: “...in his white mouth, which had known only bread...”

"I, uh..." Jonathan Sims, a thousand times, 20XX

martin's job is PLAINLY to distract elias and elias barges in like "martin. i see you're trying to distract me." and martin's like "maybe i am!"

o, jonny took a breath. that's good

he wasn't hooked up to an EKG or anything? you spend long enough with no heartbeat that they're just like "i guess we can turn this off"

this episode about philosophical zombies sounds a lot like that NPC meme from a year or two ago... and it makes me kind of uncomfortable, the way this person inspects others to determine whether they are True Minds or Impostors based on their emotional expressions, their eyes... because i don't always do the correct or appropriate expressions, and would someone judge me as being a non-person who is trying and failing to imitate human emotions?

i generally don't enjoy ships that have more-or-less explicit canon support, but i can't say jon/martin isn't good

melanie blaming jon isn't right... no one had a better plan to stop the unknowing, did they? (they didn't!) didn't all of them agree on the plan and understand that they might die? (they did!) she's just imposing survivor's guilt upon him because he survived for supernatural reasons. but it's not like he eagerly embraced his new supernaturalness, or even asked for it outright! i think she's being unreasonable. i didn't like her insistence on trying to kill elias either, even though elias is a huge dick. what's with her?

wait, peter lukas is the lonely? (meme where calculations and equations whiz past me)

jonathan baa'd

oh, see. the bullet is making melanie act without reason. i get it now. can't say i think they had the best approach to getting the bullet out, but all's well that ends well (???)

martin is being prohibited from talking to jon >:I martin is on a first-name basis with peter lukas >:I...

martin grumbles, "i don't like being manipulated..." while obviously and continuously allowing himself to be manipulated

jon is afraid of and uncomfortable with what he's becoming, at least to a degree, right? but he seems to be going about his duties (i.e. feeding the eye) with vigor and without reluctance. is he really that motivated by his own desire to know and understand? who is he doing this for? is the eye's influence on him so strong that "doing what the eye wants" seems to manifest as what HE wants to do?

"He'd place it over the one he wore already, and he would larf and larf and larf" (from breacon’s statement... just heard it like this for some reason)

deep water could be the domain of both the buried and the vast, because you could lose yourself in the vast ocean, but experience the physical effects of being buried under thousands of feet of water...

so tom han was an avatar of the flesh but he ultimately died after being tortured by the spiral... right?

"we're not people, though, are we? not anymore." close enough, i'd say.

jonathan has deployed THREE "I, uh..."s in episode 131 alone and i want to smack him in real life. FOUR NOW. JON. JONATHAN SIMS THE REAL ACTOR. LISTEN... quit falling back on your "I, uh..."s. and if they're written into the script i'll punch whoever did that too. total of five in a single episode. never utter "I, uh..." again

i hope whoever's throat is okay after doing bone turner voice for a whole statement.

jonny sure needs saving quite often, doesn't he.

peter lukas being a slightly chipper advocate for becoming a follower of the lonely is very strange

neil lagorio and his whole cinematographic history is made up but they namedropped kevin costner, who is real

VERY, VERY GOOD laugh at 23:44 of episode 136

melanie getting her session recorded... i was doing audio transcription for a while and you'd definitely come across bits of therapy-type sessions that very much seemed like they should have been confidential.

i wonder if the eye ultimately turned its back on gertrude and allowed her to be killed. if jon could survive a collapsing building, could gertrude not have survived a couple of bullets? wouldn't the difference be the protection of the eye? [footnote added in later: of course now i see who turned their back on whom.]

i'm somewhat heartened to learn that agnes montague was, in fact, a heavily cursed individual, though she seemed to have embraced it to a degree... and she wasn't made of wax.

i like that jon now includes helen in his office politics briefing

basira's like "Edmund Halley" and jon's like "Halley's comet?" (like “Hale-ey”) and two minutes later jon's like "Edmund Hally" (not "Hale-y")

"What's this?" "OH... That's, uh... that's... my rib..." "Right." (tiny clunk of rib being set down)

so giving a statement puts a curse on you... or is it "having a statement extracted / being compelled" that puts a curse on you? and the resulting curse, the fear it reawakens, is that good for the eye, or is that good for the powers that initially caused the fear?

well, i heard a homestuck reference in one of the patreon names at the beginning of an episode, and who is surprised? of course, i'm not one to talk

episode 144- the english think their summer is bad... as a professional "hot weather is bad" person, i feel doubtful, because if the sky is grey, it is not as hot as it Could Be, and therefore one should quit one's bitching

first statement about the extinction... interesting. but hearing martin be a jerk to daisy makes me sad :(

the powers never tell avatars exactly what they need to be doing, but that's just concerning the means. the ends are always clear: the power gets fed. and all of the powers feed on fear. also jonny is horny for statements. i hope, but also doubt, that his harmful behavior is at least partially the spider's doing. oh, i see now that it's not. yeah.

jon wants to eat fresh and delicious statements produced just for him, instead of reconstituting the dusty old statements already in the archive

episode 148 - samson stiller gets a crush. but in all seriousness, is he becoming an avatar of the eye but like, not institute-related? is that a thing? i guess that would make sense, but still seems weird

episode 149 - considering ring -> rang -> rung, we seem to have stumbled upon spin -> span -> spun, and the compasses gently span around (9:40)

does martin have loneliness powers now? it's sad that he is getting lonely... as a lonely person, i know.

the lady on TV in episode 150 was just speaking simlish.

i really want jon to overcome his urge to forcefully take statements because i want to be able to root for him still

british podcasts really have a leg up over american podcasts, at least among american audiences, purely based on their interesting and varied accents

i can't say the gravedigger's envy doesn't make me myself feel like going to sleep in the cold dirt forever. but bad depression lately is also a factor, so

jonathan having to settle for reading already archived statements instead of harvesting fresh ones is exactly like a vampire (not the kind detailed in this series) who has to choose between hunting people to suck their blood or drinking bags of donated blood from a (near-endless) stockpile. there's an ethical choice with a clear right answer, but the urge is also understandable

jon following up gertrude's tape with just "fuck" was really good. now he's like "ok martin. let's run away together"

spent all day at work thinking about how i can't fuckin believe the first thing jon did when he heard how to escape the institute was to go tell martin like "there will be a great cost, but... we can elope now"

also if tim was still around jon would tell him the way out and he would do it right then and there, i'm 100% sure. like before jon was finished explaining tim would be like "the eyes? (grabs scissors) got it. (does the deed)"

earlier today i was just thinking that we would almost certainly hear gertrude's death on tape, especially given that we now understand tape recorders are wont to turn on autonomously whenever something important is happening. anyway then i came home and heard gertrude's death on tape

peter, as an avatar of the lonely, is easy to play like a cheap whistle because as someone who clearly hates spending time around other people, he is not keen to the symptoms of being played.

elias is like "you'll have to go into the lonely to get him" and jon's probably thinking "but then at least we'll be in the lonely... ~*~*~together~*~*~"

i think martin's whole thing for most of the series has been that he sounds a little doofy, for lack of a better word, and people constantly underestimate his intelligence. and now he has played peter lukas like a cheap whistle and forced me to realize that by taking for granted that he was being successfully manipulated by peter lukas, i too was underestimating martin... and his pure love for jon <:3c no but seriously i even remember explicitly making a mental note to remember that martin is smartin but it fell by the wayside as my emotions (of sadness that jon and martin seemed to be growing further apart) took precedent

i work a non-verbal job just doing mundane tasks and that gives me all the time in the world to think about things like "if they were to have jon and martin reunite in a tearful embrace, how would you convey the physical contact in an audio format? like, whap? soft thud?"

jon enters the lonely and voiceover peter comes in to try and factcheck the ship

i guess it makes sense that peter would try to do the ritual for the lonely all by himself

did he kill peter by asking him to death? or did peter just self-destruct rather than be forced to answer?

the way jon snapped martin out of the loneliness just by making him look at his face... that's powerful. as a lonely person, i know that the most cry-making thing you can realize when you feel alone is that another person is, in fact, there with you

martin went for a walk and now it's thunderstorming. i wonder if he came back as soon as it started raining and now he's standing nearby invisibly as jon reads the intimidating magnus statement. ...I GUESS NOT

i plan to read through the transcripts of all the episodes (as it’s faster than re-listening, though i might selectively re-listen) so that i may better understand some things and answer some questions in this post that i didn’t ultimately resolve. i can’t say i was paying 101% attention all the way through. also april is very far away

[movedthechangingman]

dmitri n gavril for that recent ask meme pls

dmitri first… this is really image heavy sorry !!!!!!!!!! esp if youre on mobile this is like 40 miles long

favorite thing about them

hes a dad! he loves his wife! he doesnt respect captain atom in any way! these two panels also sum up a lot

least favorite thing about them

his writing at the beginning can get a lil messy and he sort of flip flops a bit from like, hes busting dinahs balls in the issue where he joins the team and then gets really naive in the next one and then its just ambiguous whether or not hes just playing dumb all the time

favorite line

for serious lines: 

but for funny ones. its a tie because i am 24/7 losing it about “batman baby!”

brOTP

i want access to the forbidden plotline that explains how dmitris feelings on guy changed this much over time bc they literally never interact after dmitri joins JLE 

OTP

buddy……… hes like kind of the only person whos genuinely nice to dmitri but also i genuinely like how they interact i think they had a lot more potential and i was cheated

nOTP

haha! no ships exist

random headcanon

rocket red never died.. he tucked his arms and legs into his belly curled up into a ball.. and he just rolled away. in my massive au that i will never post about ever he actually trains gavril instead of like gavril having post mortem hero worship. him and belina are both bisexual 

unpopular opinion

i think its a general shame he isnt more popular he was a really good character and i hate that he gets written completely out of dc and brought back specifically to die. like people talk about him So Little that i didnt even really know who he was until this year while stanning his openly douchey teammates like wally and nate.. like the characters you want i guess but it does make me sad that hes been just forgotten

song i associate with them

picture book!

favorite picture of them

this artist drew him so cute 

GAVRIL:

favorite thing about them

he has such a 180 on charcterization SO FAST

least favorite thing about them

his introduction is SO confusing with the like extremist communism thing because its exactly the opposite of what dmitri felt and they went on abt how he idolized dmitri?

favorite line

one jokey!

one serious! this is the point where i definitely saw the dmitri influence

brOTP

no hets in my lobby so im going to say beatriz bc they should not have been more than friends

OTP

august general in iron! i feel like they were moving into this like rivals to friends area right as gavril dies. not to mention that fang reacts the most to gavrils death out of any of them. dc gave me crumbs and i made a 4 course meal

nOTP

gavril/beatriz :/ i was SUPER not a fan and i cant believe they pulled it in new earth and new 52

random headcanon

i like putting him dora mari fang and kevin in a friendgroup. also he is a gay trans man

unpopular opinion

can we just stop killing off the rocket reds in general

song i associate with them

not sure why!

favorite picture of them

obsessed w this.. butterfly