#OTHER PEOPLE CAN SEE IT. WHAT IS UP WITH EVERYONE LATELY.

[66stitches]

dating abby headcanons

Art by fjorgust on instagram

Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

divider creds

꩜ She isn’t super big on pda, but does little stuff like grab your hand or give you occasional kisses on the forehead just to remind you of how she loves you (and to let everyone know you’re hers).

꩜ With that being said, she’s all over you once you’re home.

꩜ Absolutely loves lazy morning cuddles and kisses far more than she’d like to admit.

꩜ I just know she listens to dad music. Definitely a big fan of The Offspring.

꩜ Loves to spoil her girl, but even though she doesn’t admit it, she secretly loves being spoiled and coddled as well.

꩜ Has a pretty high pain tolerance, but would sometimes exaggerate her pain just so you’d coddle and baby her, especially when she’s on her period.

And you know she’s fibbing, but you knew that if you confronted her she would immediately deny it and get super defensive (which is how you know she’s lying).

But you love babying her, so you’re more than happy to play along.

꩜ She snores, but it’s pretty soft and light, so you don’t really mind at all. It’s actually pretty comforting.

꩜ Shares her coin collection with you. You don’t really get the fascination, but seeing her ramble on passionately about what new coins she found only makes you fall in love deeper.

꩜ Reads classics. A huge fan of Dostoevsky. But also she loves nonfictions.

꩜ Absolutely sucks at video games. If you play, she’ll ask if she can try, only to get your character killed like five seconds later then complain that “something’s up with your controller.”

꩜ Loves having her hair played with. She would have trouble sleeping sometimes, but once your fingers are on those golden strands of hers she’s out like a light, already softly snoring into the pillow.

꩜ Sleeps completely naked with you. Not for any sexual purpose, but just feeling her bare skin against yours as you’re sleeping makes her feel closer to you than ever. It’s an innocently intimate and loving moment she likes to share with you.

Honestly just imagine cuddling to sleep at night completely naked. Everything is quiet and you’re peppering sleepy kisses on each other’s face, neck, shoulders, and rubbing each other’s arms and back 'til you fall asleep oh god I’m SICK.

꩜ This woman is in love with sitcoms and I will not be elaborating any further.

꩜ Claims she doesn’t like cats, but once came home like an hour late because she got caught up playing with a stray cat. Refused to tell you the real reason why she was late.

꩜ Cracks the dumbest jokes you’ve ever heard that only put a smile on your face because of how stupid they are and how cute she is when she says them.

Remember that scene where she was trying to joke around with Lev but she’s just super bad at it and he didn’t even try to play along? “You know our dogs can play cards like that?” Yeah, she does that with you too.

꩜ Cries after arguments (canon) but can’t stand people seeing her cry. She’s a pretty emotional person methinks.

꩜ Loves festivities. Will go all out on christmas and halloween, decorating the entire place and buying gifts (pesters you with questions about what you got her).

꩜ Pesto. She loves it on everything.

꩜ Loves massages. Back, shoulders, feet, scalp. Loves them all and only wants them from you.

꩜ A caregiver. (If you’re on meds), she’ll always make sure you take them and take them at the right time. She ensures that you eat three meals a day and get enough sleep, and even doesn’t let you stay up for too long. She just wants her girl to stay healthy.

꩜ She’s a total book hoarder. She promises not to buy another book 'til she’s done reading the ones she has, only for you to find a paper bag with ten new books the next day.

꩜ Loves you endlessly and has your entire wedding planned out in her head. She knows exactly what songs she wants to play and how she wants your dresses to look.

[nevermindmorpheus]

So I just want to notice a few things about this article and suggest we all take a moment to do a fact check.

First, it’s weird that only the advocate leading a rally on Jess and Dahlia’s behalf is quoted.

Second, there does not in fact seem to be a light rail stop at Hennepin and 5th street. (a bus stop, yes).

Third, the details are odd—Jess and Dahlia were beaten to unconsciousness on the street and yet the only news is this story in the Independent, and then a few stories using that article to regurgitate that information.

Fourth, while there is a quote from a legitimate group in Minneapolis (Sequeerity) it’s not actually about the attacks, but about whether their services and classes have been in demand. Which I am sure is true, but it’s a red flag there is no link to the actual event that supposedly kicked off the interview.

When I search “trans women attacked minneapolis” it pulls these up along with a story from the Star Tribune (Minneapolis’s award winning local paper) about a trans woman attacked by two men in a light rail station—in March of 2023

Now, this story treats the violence with the level of care I would expect for something this vicious, you can see the multiple sources, how the details are laid out etc. (Also in this incident, and the police are called and her attackers were charged.)

Now what I kind of suspected here in the case of the 2024 story that uses some of those details but none of the context that makes sense, was that this story is either AI written or in the worst case, written to stoke fear in trans folks hoping to find safety. Things feel very dangerous in the US right now and a story like this can make even places of refuge seem unsafe. The reality of course is that no place is perfect, but Minneapolis is still a much better option for safety for trans folks than many others.

Now, things that would make me trust this story is if we could find journalism where anyone has covered either:

a) the actual attack occurring Nov 2024, citing a full police report, speaking to either Jess or Dahlia, or a bystander who saw the incident. Or even you know, the time of day exactly, and gets the actual physical location correct.

EDIT! There is coverage here that does that and clarifies the location of the light rail station and resolves the factual issues that raised my questions in the first article: https://bringmethenews.com/minnesota-news/rally-held-after-transgender-women-attacked-near-minneapolis-light-rail-station

https://bringmethenews.com/minnesota-news/rally-held-after-transgender-women-attacked-near-minneapolis-light-rail-station

b) a story covering the rally that happened in support of Jess and Dahlia. Where was it? How many people were there? Are they asking for anything?

EDIT: the above linked story does that!

At this point I can find neither and so I urge everyone to be careful and critical when encountering news that is hitting all of your emotional buttons. No one’s fears are unfounded here (this did happen in 2023!) but we owe it to each other to only spread stories like this that are based on solid evidence ♥️

EDIT: Thanks to some other folks doing searching as well, the step of fact checking which is find other coverage has succeeded. I was wrong! I do want to emphasis that it is still important to go through the process of noticing these things and making sure what you’re looking at is real, because there were enough errors in the Independent story that made the reporting not feel right. The “bring me the news” piece, as well as the instagram posts it’s linked to clarify the rally, the large public support including government officials, and reports the correct details of location and when the cops showed up (late, at the hospital. nice look there guys).

I’ve gotten a lot of hate for wondering if this was correctly reported and being wrong on the internet, and I do want to say that I looked into this because it made me upset, and then concerned, that the violence against transwomen was being used to stoke our fear (which is what I felt about the Independent article). I included the sections about what would indicate this was real because I knew there was a real possibility I had missed something, and wanted to highlight how you know when to change your mind.

so the tldr: The first shared article has a lot of factorial errors that means you should look more. Even if you don’t see evidence at first doesn’t mean you won’t get it later! The truth is that this violence did happen, but also that there was a huge outpouring of local support. Please take care of each other, and be kind!

This is where we are. Anti-trans pogroms have begun and the community is living in fear. Things are so bad that some of us are unable to live anymore.

Where is the left? Where are our allies?

#TDoR2024

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

   Eddie —

   I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

   You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

   I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

   I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

   Sorry,

   Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off. 

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye. 

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display. 

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time. 

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags — part 6

⤷ “i’m not the type to run, i know we’re having fun,”

summary: you and gigi are peacefully enjoying your day, when you find out, grayson’s… back? and he wants to talk. what could go wrong? wc: 3.0k masterlist || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5

14 years old… 

you found him hiding in the library.  

he was slumped in the corner, knees pulled to his chest, head buried in his arms. at first, you weren’t sure it was him—grayson hawthorne never looked so… small. 

his usually pristine shirt slightly wrinkled like he’d been tugging at the hem, and it wasn’t tucked in. he didn’t look straight at you when you stepped in, but he didn’t tell you to leave either.  

“what do you want?” his voice cracked, but he tried to sound cold.  

you didn’t answer. instead, you sat down beside him, legs crossed, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

he blinked at you, waiting for an explanation, but you just shrugged. years of knowing each other, and it always went down like this. 

“company.” you picked a random book off the nearest shelf and flipped it open. “you can pretend i’m not here.”

he didn’t reply.

minutes passed. long enough that you thought maybe he really would ignore you. at one point, you began actually reading the book you were pretending to read, and nearly forgot about the boy beside you.

but then, out of nowhere, he spoke.

“i don’t know what to do.” he admitted slowly. “there’s this girl… emily,” he said, his voice low, and you felt your heart beat faster. “and… my brother. jameson.”

your chest tightened, though you weren’t sure why. your kept your gaze fixed on the pages of your book, but your hands had stopped turning the pages.

“what about them?” you asked carefully, glancing at him for a second.

he ran a hand through his hair. “she’s… complicated. and jameson—he doesn’t think. he just jumps into things, never stops to think what it might do to everyone else.”

you hesitated, breath hitching as you studied the way he wouldn’t look straight into your eyes. whatever this was, clearly meant a lot.

he continued, looking down at the floor. “it gets repetitive. jameson, emily—they don’t think about the damage until it’s too late. and then they leave me to clean it up. and stupidly, for some reason, i do. i always do.”

you’ve seen grayson sad before, but this was different. he looked… lost. and angry. and for someone like grayson, who always carried himself like he had the whole world in order, it was jarring.

“you’re allowed to be mad, you know,” you said.

that made him pause. “i’m not mad,” he said, but the words sounded like a blatant lie.

your shoulders were barely touching , but the act alone felt larger than anything else. 

you tilted your head, a soft smile growing on your face. “okay, then you’re… frustrated? dissapointed? annoyed? irritated? pick your adjective.”

that earned the tiniest flicker of a smile, and your chest felt a little lighter, but then it disappeared just as quickly. he looked at you then, and something about the way his eyes searched your face made your breath catch.

“sometimes, i think you’re the only person who actually sees me,” he said quietly.

your heart stuttered, and for a second, you couldn’t think of anything to say. 

but then you smiled, “of course i see you,” you rolled your eyes jokingly like he hadn’t just sincerely confirmed that he really did see you as a friend, after years of just feeling like you pestered him. 

your cheeks reddened, “i’m your friend, that’s what i’m here for.” 

“but, you know,” you continued, “you’re surrounded by people who care about you,” you said softly, taking the focus away from you, and back to being there for grayson. “just let yourself see it. don’t push them away.”

his head snapped up at that, his sharp eyes meeting yours. “but people never just… stay.” he mumbled. “they have their own lives, their own motives.”

you stayed. you always would. “that doesn’t mean you have to shut everyone out,” you said, your voice steadier now.

“not everyone’s going to hurt you, grayson. but you won’t know that if you keep closing the door before anyone gets close. i mean, i annoyed you for so many years straight even when you pushed me away.” you said. 

“not everyone has my extreme level of patience and willingness to accept moody brooding.” you joked to lighten the moment, but there was truth behind it, he couldn’t expect people to stick around if he pushed them away.

he stared at you for a long moment, and something in his expression cracked, like he wanted to believe you but didn’t quite know how yet. 

he looked back at the floor, “you never actually irritated me,” he admitted, “and i never hated you. perhaps you’re right, i don’t… i don’t like to let people in.” 

you shrugged casually, “i’m always right.” 

he looked at you with a newfound softness in his eyes. “you’re annoyingly persistent, you know that?” he said finally, your shoulders still brushing against each other. 

“oh, i know.” you grinned. “if i wasn’t, we wouldn’t be friends right now.” you said with a small smile. “someone’s gotta stick around to remind you you’re not as alone as you think.”

for a while, neither of you said anything. grayson leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a long, quiet breath. 

that was when you knew he was replaying your words, letting them sink in—even if he wouldn’t say it outloud. 

— 

present

after days of confusion and radio silence from grayson, you finally told yourself that you were done overthinking. gigi had dragged you to your favorite ice cream shop for a much-needed distraction. 

the two of you sat at your usual table near the front, the smell of waffle cones and the soft hum of background music lulling you back into some sense of normalcy. that was until gigi leaned closer, her voice a hushed whisper.

“don’t look now, but…” gigi trailed off, her eyes going behind you once again. “grayson is kind of, um, here. and sitting behind you.” 

considering gigi had made very careful effort to not even mention his name around you — even when you persisted you didn’t care— hearing graysons name come from her lips stunned you for a moment, then you realized what she had just said. 

“what?” you whispered in shock, and then you turned around before you could think it twice. 

there were quite a few people in the shop, so there was quiet chatter mixed with the background music, but it all seemed to silence. 

but there he was, grayson hawthorne, sitting in the back of the empty icecream shop, glasses on typing on his computer.

‘who did he think he was?’ you thought, ‘coming to our— my place? the one that i introduced him to?’ 

you focused on the anger so you wouldn’t feel anything else. 

what on earth was he doing here? who the hell comes to an ice cream shop and doesn’t even get anything? and does what, office work? and who—

he looked up through his glasses, and you realized to late that you were sort of… full blown staring. 

he met your eyes for the briefest of seconds as you turned your head back around. 

“holy cow…” gigi mumbled as she looked down at her icecream, “he’s giving you a major longing stare right now.”

“okay,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows momentarily in lieu of a shrug that he would he able to see, “i don’t care.”

“sure you don’t,” she replied knowingly, dragging her spoon through her melting sundae. you gave her a look that said you didn’t agree, and that you seriously did not care, but she didn’t say anything. 

a beat passed before gigi suddenly grinned. “okay. in five seconds, i’m giving him a major angry glare.” she mumbled under her breath. 

“gigi, do not.”

“three…

“seriously, don’t.”

“two… one. i’m doing it!”

“gigi!”

she tilted her head back up, and bless her heart, gave her best attempt at a seething glare at grayson. 

it was sort of impossible for her to look angry with her wide blue eyes, no matter how hard she furrowed her brows. 

and she didn’t let up at it for a few seconds, then raised her eyebrows — half surprised and half amused. “ha,” she grinned to herself and fisted the air. “he looked away first. loser.” 

he was probably just crazily confused, you reckoned. 

“okay,” you chuckled under your breath, your cheeks reddening by the second. “um, should we leave now?”

“no,” gigi whined, taking a bite of her icecream. “that’ll make it obvious we’re mad. besides, i haven’t finished my icecream.” 

“well, i think that look you gave him made it more obvious,” you told her, and she only laughed as she shook her head. “but alright.” 

it wasn’t long before you left. you didn’t even have an appetite any more, and you were too overly aware of a presence behind you to focus on anything else. gigi finished her icecream promptly. 

the drive home was quiet. gigi hummed along to the radio, her mood as bright as ever, but you couldn’t shake the tightness in your chest. 

your thoughts churned, questions you’d been trying to bury for a few days swirling all over again.

“you’re quiet,” gigi said after a while, her tone soft. she glanced at you, concerned, but you only shook your head, trying to force a small smile.

“just tired,” you mumbled.

gigi didn’t push, and you could tell she didn’t buy it.

you pulled into the driveway and sat there for a moment, the car engine ticking softly as it cooled. gigi patted your arm before grabbing her bag and heading inside.

you smiled and nodded, muttering something like ‘i’ll meet you inside,’ and you stayed behind for a moment, staring at the steering wheel.

your phone was put on silent, then you scrolled through your notifications. 

grayson 

— Hi, I believe I saw you and Gigi today

you

— yeah haha i think gigi told me she saw you  i thought you were gone for 8 days? — it’s nice to see you back

grayson 

— Likewise. — I think we should talk, It’s been long overdue. 

a scoff escaped before you could stop it. the audacity.

your fingers moved before your brain could catch up.

you

— ok — talk then 

grasyon

— Would you be alright with talking in person?

you 

— yeah sure whatever — where?

grayson

— I’ll come to you.

you

— maybe not — i don’t want to disturb gigi

grayson

— Our park spot, then?

you

— ok

your heart slammed in your chest. you sat there for a moment, staring at the screen wordlessly, trying to process what just happened. 

our? how could he even still use that word?

this was happening, you were going to talk to grayson for real this time. you anticipated it wouldn’t end good. things with him were rarely easy.

you put on your headphones to numb your thoughts, pulled on a hoodie, and made your way out the house. 

the playground was completely empty, which was usually how it was when you and grayson used to go. the sun was already beginning to set when you walked out of your house, and it was fully dark once you arrived, making your way toward your spot. the bench.

it wasn’t anything special—just a worn wooden bench tucked away at the edge of the playground. but it had been yours. you and grayson’s.

he was already there when you arrived, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the ground like it might have the answers he needed.

you sat down on the opposite end of the bench, keeping a deliberate distance. “okay,” you said, crossing your arms. “talk.” the park was eerily quiet, the air cooling rapidly as the sun finally disappeared behind the trees. the bench felt cold under your fingers as you sat down, the weight of the moment settling in.

his eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of guilt there. 

you were both silent for a few seconds, before you looked away, down at the floor.

“fine, if you won’t talk, i will.” you muttered. 

“grayson,” you sighed, “you can’t just—” you started, your voice breaking slightly before you caught yourself. 

you cleared your throat, willing the tears to stay put. “you can’t just disappear and then show up like nothing happened. like i’m supposed to just... what? forget it?”

he inhaled, then hesitated. “you know, i never meant it to be like this. i didn’t mean for it to feel like that.” he said quietly, his tone so calm that it just made you more angry.

“feel like what, grayson?” you finally snapped your head towards his. “like you were ignoring me? like you couldn’t be bothered to let me know what was going on? because that’s exactly what it felt like.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“that’s it?” you scoffed, followed by a bitter laugh as you sat up straight. “you disappear, you come back, and all you’ve got is ‘i didn’t mean for it to feel like that?’”

he wielded silence like a weapon, just like he always had.

you continued, still. “what’s going on with you? you’re acting so— so different, i barely even recognize you.”

he let out a breath as he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he started, his voice calm but careful. “yes, we are good friends, but we’ve tarnished that too far for us to ever be simply friends again.”

“what? grayson,” you said through a forced laugh, “what are you even saying right now?” you knew precisely what he was saying. 

“you’re a good person.” he said, almost sounding like he was begging for you to see his point, “you’re a lovely person, the most caring and funniest person i’ve met. you deserve better, i’m not the person for you.” 

“grayson, what is wrong with you?” you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity at what you were hearing, but you were so frustrated at his… selfishness.

“i want you, you want me, right? it’s that simple! just let us be us.”

“it’s never that simple.” he shook his head, that one strand falling back into his face. his brows furrowed slightly like the words hurt him to say.

“it is that simple! you’re making no sense, just— just stop.” you stood up, and he followed, fear flashing in his eyes momentarily. 

you took a slow step away from him.

“you kissed me! you kissed me.” your voice crackled, and you swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going. “if you knew from day one that you couldn’t do this, you should’ve just spared me the effort and left me alone.”

he looked at you like you’d shot a dagger through his heart, though his eyes were the only thing that showed it. were you being unfair? probably. but in your eyes, you had every right to be. 

as much as both of you hated to admit, his eyes were far too easy for you to read. they were like a language only you were fluent in, like you could have a whole conversation without even speaking.

now, all they said was pain. 

“you’re the only thing making things more difficult, gray.” you hated the way your voice trembled. 

low blow after low blow. but he deserved it. 

all those nights you’d spent together? he knew you inside and out, what hurts you, what doesn’t, and exactly how you love.

he knew all of that, and he still thought that leaving because things were difficult was going to be the right thing.

this couldn’t be real.

“look at us, don’t you see it?” he motioned between the two of you, like whatever was happening was a tangible thing he could see. “we’re fighting like this, and we’re not even together. we’re going to ruin each other.”

ruin each other? is that what he thought? god knows how many years of friendship, a pretty perfect friendship too, and he thought making something official would lead to you ruining each other? 

you weren’t fighting with him, you were trying to fight for him. for the chance of you actually being something more. 

“we can’t do this.” his voice felt so detached, but his eyes looked so hurt at the same time. he didn’t getto feel hurt, not when it was his fault. “we’ll just end up hurting eachother, and i don’t want to hurt you.”

you nodded silently, willing your tears back. every inch of you you wanted to scream in his face, “you already have! you coward.”

he was doing nothing but hurt you these past few days.

instead, you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay.

“yeah,” you said, pressing your lips together as you nodded again. “alright. i get it. that’s it then?”

grayson’s eyes narrowed for a split second like he was confused. 

was he surprised? did he think you were going to hang on longer? because you weren’t. you’d spent far too much energy on him. you always saw him as someone worth spending you time on, someone worth trying to figure out, someone you wanted to know.

but you understood now: he didn’t want you to figure him out because he didn’t even know who he was himself. he was scared. but that wasn’t an excuse; you were terrified, and you still were. 

love had always been your fatal flaw, the one thing you were unsure of, but you were willing to dive in head first because it was grayson. 

he just didn’t feel as deeply though. 

you didn’t want to figure him out, and you didn’t want to know anything about him anymore. 

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked at you, and for a moment, his mask slipped. his eyes—those stupid, stupid eyes— almost made you want to feel sorry for him. he looked vulnerable, but you were too angry to let it affect you this time.

“i… yes.” grayson finally said, sounding unsure of himself for once in his life. “i suppose that’s it.”

“good,” you nodded as your crossed your arms, “because i don’t want to hear what you have to say ever again.“ 

he reached his hands out but quickly let his arms fall back, curling his fingers into a fist. 

he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.

you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 

for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.

you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back. 

a/n: guys it gets better i swear they’ll be happier than ever soon 🙏 taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee

[fartcushion]

The Fart Room

When your gym crush invited you to a party he was throwing that evening you were ecstatic. You weren't even able toplay it cool, instead eagerly accepting.

He smiled at your enthusiasm and told you to be there for 19:00, and gave you his address.

Not only were you going to get to spend time with the guy you would secretly check out, but he said it was going to be attended by other guys from the gym so you figured it'd be a good chance to befriend them. Maybe get some tips on how they got in such greatshape.

*

You rocked up on time, you thought of being fashionably late after seeming too eager earlier. Butdidn't want to risk looking rude,

He opened the door with a smile when he saw itwas you

"Great you're here, come on in"

You entered his home, trying to make friendlyconversation as you kicked off your shoes. Listeningout you couldn't hear any music or any chatter.

"Am I the first to arrive?" It'd be a bit awkward, but at least you could meet each person as they came.

"Yeh, needed to get you in position before myguests arrived".

You paused, confused. "I'm sorry, what do you mean get me in position...and you mean 'other'guests?""

"What? No, mate. This is for my mates at the gym, you know, real builders. Not little guys like you. I mean other than you perving on me we have like no interaction. I invited you here to do us a service."

The amount of revelation stunned you. The admission he knew you oggled him, on top of the insults.

"What service?"

"Here let me show you".

He opened the door to a cupboard under the stairs,and gestured for you to take a look. Leaning in you could see that inside was a large cut out space. Big enough to stand on the end nearest the door, and on the other end, space to sit/kneel. What was more concerning was on the low end there was what looked to be a collar chained to the wall.

It was at this moment you were very aware of the muscular man stood behind you. Blocking your exit.A man you knew nothing about and willingly had entered his home.

"See we get together a lot and we learned early that when you get a lot of gym bros together there's a rather unpleasant smely issue. You know what it's like with all that protein. Wrecks havock on our guts and the farts are toxic. You can only hold them in for so long before it becomes uncomfortable. So for everyone to be able to party in comfort, but not stink out the place, we came up with a solution. The Fart Room".

Using his imposing size he started to push you into the cupboard.

We get some eager little guy from the gym, invite them round and put them in here. As the night goes on people need to use this room more and more.Y'know, the build up of protein shakes, broccoli and chicken diets and the beers at the party. They come in, let rip, and that nights recruit sniffs it all up".

By now you're fully in the room, being slowly pushed further back. You had to start crouching to avoid the ceiling.

"That's sick! Just go outside".

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at you wasting time. It's cold outside, can't keep opening doors to fart, everyone would freeze. Come the summer, we're all out there and don't want the wind blowing our wind back at us. This solution works all year round"

"Then just fart in here without a victim!" At this point your head smacked into the ceiling, the pain forcing you to drop down to your knees, where he loomed over you.

"Sorry, can't. The smell builds up and by the end we stink when we leave having marinated in it, and the gas escapes when you open the door. That's where you come in. You'll breathe it all up. It's better if you take it right from the source, to avoid it lingering. Best you do a good job from the start as well; as we get more drunk, we get a bit more aggressive with making sure we don't smell it; and will force your face in our cracks. He leaned down, reaching past you and picked up the collar.

"Sometimes people arent willing or try to escape. That's where this comes in". He held the collar to your face. "Will you need it? Or are you one of those fags that get off on this?"

"Please, l just want to go home".

"I don't care. Look, alone I can overpower you and chain you up. If you make me do that, l'l tell each guy to not go easy on you, and they 'll be rough. We're talking aggressively roided up blokes only too happy to let off some steam. Once the lock goes on you'll be at their mercy. So I would suggest you choose this". With that he unbuckled the collar and without protest put it tight around your neck.

"That's a good little fart filter. Now let's practice before the party starts".

He stands up, turns around, and lowers his shorts revealing his large muscular cheeks. Immediately you're hit with a sour pungent smell. Clearly if he did shower after the gym that day, he skipped cleaning his ass. Gently pivoting his hips his ass jutted out, inches from your face. Inviting you to come closer. You leaned in and as you felt his warm skin you were hit by the first fart.

BBBBBMMMMFFFF

It was quick, but loud and deep. The smell was as bad as he'd warned. You could smell the veggies he'd been eating. The surprise and stink made you instinctively pull away. Causing you to hit your head again in the tight space you were crouched in.

"Best get used to it, or if you keep flinching like that you'll leave here with brain damage. Though then again, maybe wouldn't be a bad thing, hit your head enough maybe you'll get amnesia and this can become a permanent set up. Would faggy like that?" He laughed as he wriggled his ass in front of you.

You didn't answer, so to fill the silence he let out a long rip.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPPP

"Sniff that up, quickly, I'm get a hint of it up here"

To avoid any repercussions you leant back forward and sniffed the air vigorously. Reaching as far as the tight chain would allow you to reach, the collar strangling you for the effort.

"That's better, I think you get your job. Oh, and you may have wondered about the towel hanging here.  Well, sometimes the farts get a bit. ..wet. We try not to judge each other, these supplements can do sll sorts to your body. So if a guy sharts a bit, just wait until he's finished and when he's gone wipe your face ready for the next visitor"

As if knowing you were about to try one more time to object and plead to be released, he let out a final fart into your open mouth. As you coughed and spluttered, trying not to focus on the taste on your tongue, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, here we go! See you later Sniffer!"

And he left, closing the door.

[mr-mercutio]

So here's something that I have learned about patriarchy I want to share: patriarchy is designed to benefit PATRIARCHS. Being the male "head of the family." It's about power and status and hierarchy. To be a patriarch you have to be in charge of others - generally your family. That includes other men! There's no real way to actually escape this, but the closest thing to escaping it for men is to become patriarchs themselves.

My dad was raised in a very strict and traditional catholic household. My opa (his dad) was very much The Head of the Family - even more so because he immigrated to Canada and his father wasn't around, so there was no one above him. He expected obedience from his wife and children, including his two sons, and that was just The Way of Things.

My dad suffered under this quite a lot. And he did the big hippie thing of vowing not to be like his dad - and to his credit, he did try in many ways not to repeat the same mistakes his dad did when being my dad. But the problem is that he still bought into the system of patriarchy. And the only real way to have power in that system is to be a patriarch. So that's what he became. He got a wife and had kids and expected them to defer to him the way he had to defer to his dad. He expected the cycle to continue, but now in his favour.

Problem was that no one else in my immediate family was fine with that. My mom eventually checked out of that. I cut my dad out of my life about 8 years ago. My sisters barely speak to him. We said no, you don't get to control us like that just because you're The Man of the House. You don't get to dictate our lives to us, to tell us how to behave and what's allowed and what isn't, especially as adults. It was chafing enough as kids, but as an adult he still had this expectation that we'd all still defer to him. He would always be right the same was his dad was always right.

And that worldview of his extended to everything outside the family as well - that's why he buys into men's rights nonsense and is anti-choice and thinks the world is too woke. Because he sees that people aren't willing to just prop up the system, and it means he doesn't get the power from it that he was promised. When he was young, it was clear that if he just held out and did what he was told, he would one day be King. And now he doesn't have that and hates it.

I've cut him out of my life because it's been too difficult to stay connected to him. He's hurt me too much and I can't be okay with him anymore. But I'm SAD for him because he's been screwed over by this system just as much as most people I know. Not in the same ways, but still very palpably. But he'll never acknowledge that the problem is the system and not everyone who refuses to follow it. For him, everyone who says no to patriarchy is just wrong and a traitor to how people should live, and he refuses to see that he doesn't benefit from this system because it's a BAD system. It crushed him and remolded him into something to prop itself up, and that's heartbreaking.

The people who support patriarchy are rarely the ones who are actually truly benefiting from it. Yes, men definitely get privilege from the system because it's designed to put men over everyone else. But very few men in the system actually manage to escape the hierarchy of the other men over top of them who make their lives miserable.

If you can, be kind and try to understand and help. It's too late for me and my dad - there's too much bad blood there now and I tried to help for too long without success. I still hope for his sake that he finds a better way to be happy. But there are lots of men out there who would blossom and thrive if they could let go of the idea that patriarchy is going to make them king - and there are more chances than ever that they CAN understand that. Try to give them that chance.

I want there to be fewer MRAs. Do you want that too? Do you want to know what helps us get there, from a feminist perspective?

You may not like my answer: acknowledge that sexism can affect men. Recognize that, although the patriarchy generally privileges men, they are also subject to restrictive gender roles that are harmful to them (shunning all things “feminine,” not showing emotions, being protectors/strong, never admitting being victims of SA/IPV, having to “earn” their manhood, etc.).

Give young men a place other than the right-wing manosphere to be heard about the issues they experience. If these grifters are telling them “only we understand how hard it is to be a man, the left hates you for your gender” and they look to the left and see “men claiming they have ‘problems’ are losers who just hate women, all men are trash,” do you think they’re going to be drawn towards or away from feminism?

Before you leave an angry response: no, this does not mean to center men instead of women in feminism, it just means including them at all. No, it is not “coddling” men to treat them with human dignity, you can and should continue to hold them (and every other gender) responsible for unpacking sexist beliefs. No, this does not mean it is every individual woman’s and feminist’s responsibility to prioritize men’s issues, it just means at the least not shutting them down when they do speak up about sexism. No, it is not “not all men-ing” to point out that “men are trash” sentiments hurt the feminist movement rather than helping it. Ask questions before you make accusations on this post, please. I have been abused by men too, I get it, this isn’t easy to hear.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears

So, @lexthegremlin1 requested that I do a story about cat hybrid! König and Horangi taking care of a reader when dealing with ADHD/ADD. Funnily enough, I struggle with ADHD and autism, so I might have written this with a bit of an autistic take, so please forgive me. I find the two tend to entwine themselves inside me so it's hard to see one from the other. However, I did my best and I really like this story.

I've struggled writing lately, so writing this story really helped me. I hope it helps you all when dealing with an ADHD/ADD episode yourselves.

TWs: Panic attacks, over stimulation, ableism, people not understanding ADHD

Wordcount: 1.4k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears

Your fingers buzzed with static currents. Your skin crawled with an army of invisible ants marching up and down your body in an endless march. You could hear the buzzing in the air. It was loud, so loud. Why was it loud? It wasn’t this loud before. It’s not supposed to be loud. It’s maddening but you can’t so much as orient your head to look around you. You’re locked in place like a cadaver to an examining table. You’re muscles ripple as currents flow from head to toe. You feel like you’re being born, you feel like you’re dying. It’s all throughout your body and you don’t know how to handle it.

You feel something under your touch. It’s a new feeling. This isn’t the metal of your pen. It’s not the plastic of your keyboard. It’s something… Soft. Soft? What’s soft in your apartment? You have your stuffed animals, but those are in your room. You’re in the living room now, right by your laptop. You can see in the far distance that you’re looking at the screen, but nothing is making sense. All the letters loop together and tangle into a sea of nettles. It’s not your stuffed animal, what’s soft in this room?

There’s throw pillows, but those are on the sofa. You’re sitting by your small table, the one you made into your desk. You have some stickers on the organizer trays, but they’re too bright to look at, too overwhelming. All those fun and familiar characters are too overwhelming now.

Soft… Soft… Soft… What’s soft?

You take a deep breath. You feel like your head is breaching above water for a moment. In the middle of the storm, your eyes flash with lightening clarity. You can see the sky bend and crack above you, can feel the currents of the sea desperately try to suck you back into the inky depths. You can feel it all as it whirls around you. You take another breath, and again the waves recede briefly to give you some semblance of relief. It’s brief, but it’s what you need. Another breath, the sea falls away, you feel yourself coming to solid ground.

The chair is solid beneath you. It’s a nice comfy chair that your friend found for you at a thrift store. It fits your room, it makes it look more organized.

Organized.

The sea wells up again, this time rising all the way back up to you neck and threatening to take you under.

Right, that’s why you’re like this. You’re unorganized.

Teachers always told you to be more careful with your school work. You keep losing your papers. I don’t have an endless supply here; you need to learn to take care of your things. Your parents got so mad at you. How do you not know where it is? I gave it to you five minutes ago! Your partners never understood. What do you mean you don’t remember? Over and over and over again, and now you’re hearing it from your boss. You lost the paper you needed. You lost it right before the deadline. You can’t meet the deadline without that report. How did you lose it? You thought you were better, you thought therapy and medications were working. Everyone told you that you were getting better, but now you’re stuck back at square one, staring down at your shoes as your teacher sighs and tells you to be more careful again.

You feel like you’re breaking down. It’s too much. Your chest heaves up and down, but you don’t know why. You try to breathe but the air catches in a ball in the back of your throat, thick and coagulated like old blood. It feels like fleshy masses are consuming your body, draining your life out of your sorry shell.

The softness pushes back into your hand again. Soft… Soft… Soft… What in your apartment is soft?

You feel something tugging at the front of your shirt. It’s familiar, but you can’t remember what’s meant to do that. It does that for a reason. It wants your attention.

You feel like you’re cracking apart chunks of granite when you move your neck, messily putting them back together when you finally look down at your lap.

What’s this meant to be? This isn’t a stuffed animal. It’s big and black, and it has such big wide eyes. Big big yellow eyes like twin harvest moons hanging in the night sky. Such big and beautiful eyes. Why do they look so sad?

They’re looking at you.

You know these eyes. These eyes are familiar. They look friendly, but so sad. You can’t bear them looking so sad. You need to make them happy. What makes them happy?

You move an arm made of lead to fall upon this black spot’s back. You slowly push your hand through the softness, then move back up to pet it again. The petting helps. It’s a simple, easy actions. Repetitive. It’s comforting. You can feel the warmth soaking into your lap. The eyes blink slowly. These are happy eyes, you think to yourself.

You can feel the waves receding. The water flushes away to leave you bare to the world. You can see the sky again, can see the clouds slowly whispering away into nothingness. They’re soft, much like the little storm cloud in your lap. But this isn’t a cloud you want to let go of, it’s a good cloud. This storm is a good storm. It’s a summer rain against the windowpanes at night. It’s a familiar pitter-patter on the rooftops. It’s a good storm, a happy storm.

It rolls with thunder, and it takes you a minute to find the name for this rumble. It’s called purring. Purring is a good thing. That’s something you know. You know purring is good. Purring is a very good thing. Hearing purring makes you feel a bit calmer. It’s easier to think now. The buzzing on your skin fades slightly. Your thoughts aren’t murky clouds, they’re starting to come into focus. The chatter is slowly dimming. It’s not so loud. It’s something you can tolerate. It’s not great, it’s still loud, but you can hear the chatter clearly now. It’s not talking about failure or loss or inevitable tragedies, it’s talking about this thing called ‘cats’.

Cats are good and wonderful things. Cats are innocent, good, pure. Cats don’t want to hurt you. Cats don’t get scared of you. Cats don’t think you’re a disappointment. Cats are good things that love and care for you, regardless of who you are. If you love them, they’ll love you back. They won’t hold your flaws above your heads. Cats take you as you are.

This little storm cloud, this cat, he is a nice and sweet animal. He’s waiting for you. Waiting for what? He’s waiting for you to calm down, one of the voices in the chatter says, louder than the rest. Normally, the voices in the chatter stress you out, but this one is a good voice. You like this voice. You want to listen to it more.

His name is König, it says, he loves you.

Does he love you?

He loves you very much.

Well that’s a wonderful thing, now isn’t it?

You smile and pet the cat more, this time scratching at his ears and his ruff. He rolls his head into the palm of your hand, eagerly lapping up all of your affections. This cat wants you, it needs you. This cat cares for you.

You feel another tug on your sleeve. You look down at your side and, would you know it, there’s another cat! You’re so surprised that you make a little squeak that has both the cats on edge. You relax, and they both calm down beside you.

Unfortunately for you, this striped cat is sitting on some of your papers.

Right, papers. You were doing some work. You needed those papers.

You scoot the cat away and take a look at the papers.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’re holding.

The missing report, the voices clamber over each other, the missing report!

All the anxiety that had been lingering wafts away in a long sigh.

You have the report. You’re okay. You’re not going to be fired. Everything will be okay.

You take a final breath.

You’re going to be okay.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[gowns]

the economy in los angeles rn is kinda um.... unprecedented levels of what da hell...

i initially wanted to be a filmmaker, playwright, actor, writer. i was just fascinated by film and theatre and knew that people made a living doing art -- i mean, my dad's a musician, so i personally knew people making a living doing art. but i was particularly drawn to storytelling and performance mediums.

so, i'm going to focus on film here: it's always been difficult to find work in hollywood, but there was still kind of a method of getting work. there are tons of studios and production companies. let's say out of 100 hopefuls, like 60-70 of them could find consistent work in one way or another. a lot of people end up in post production, smaller crew work, whatever, but they're grateful to be working in film in any way that they can while they (usually) nurse their secret dreams of funding and screening their own projects. and let's say like, 10 out of 100 of these people end up making short films for festivals (that are usually bids to make larger features), and 1 out of 100 could make a whole feature (i'm just pulling out random vibe-based statistics, i'm just typing up something quick here and don't want to look up / don't know if it's possible to see stats based on "dreams")

well the thing is, that hollywood is imploding. i know a lot of people who work in production and post-production. you live gig-to-gig. usually it's like, several weeks or maybe months of intense work on a project, then you're done, and floating free in a kind of nerve-wracking way, and then you get another gig, and then you're booked again. very feast or famine.

but lately it's just.... famine??? i keep seeing EXPERIENCED film industry people posting that they're looking for a job, any kind of job, and they have so much skills, but there's nothing.

like what i'm trying to say is... nothing is being greenlit. there are very very few new projects being made, in film or tv. it's going all the way back. some people say it's because of covid and production halting, other people say it's because of strikes, other people say it's all AI, other people say it's because of tiktok and how "anyone can make a video." and it's all of the above, combined with increasing costs of living -- it's not enough to just make a few thousand from a film gig and coast on that for the rest of the year, because your entire MONTHLY RENT is a few thousand dollars.

--

back in february 2020, i made a joke to a group of film production people, gesturing at posters for movies that looked terrible to me -- "god, they just keep making movies, and they all suck. i think what hollywood needs is a sabbatical. like, everyone should just stop making movies. there are already so many movies. we don't need anymore!" and there was a laugh then a sort of awkward silence, and i could sense a monkey paw curling just out of sight. and i quickly added "oh right, but like, there should still be movies of course, ha ha. like, you guys should still have work."

--

i think about this a lot.

like, film as a medium, film as a place in our culture, hollywood as the nexus of storytelling with a budget and many skilled hands.

it feels so present and eternal to me. but it's so new as a medium, and also predicated on so many factors. and a lot of those factors are like a crumbling cliff!

was it ever sustainable?

--

i sometimes envision my life with all these possible paths, and how i somehow picked this one random path (freelance photography), thinking that the other paths would still be open to me. "of course, anyone can do anything at any point in their life! :)" <- ever the sunny optimist.

but as i get older, and the economy gets worse, and the industry continues to implode -- and boy, if you think film is suffering, let's not even get into theatre or publishing -- i'm like wow. actually, all those other paths have gnarled dead trees and tumbleweeds. no matter how much i "dream" about XYZ, we're at a point in history where those things might not be viable anymore.

and then, outside of film as a medium, there's also the empire that we live in, the basis of all this material wealth that has been able to fund big-budget movies. and i love the things that can be done with hundreds of people and expensive cameras. but is that kind of storytelling going to continue to be feasible...?

and i get kinda freaked out because there's THOUSANDS of people here in california working in the film industry. and if they all lose their jobs....?

and if everyone i know loses their jobs...?

ummmmmmmm

like i said every day i wake up and see another "please for the love of god i need a job i have 4000 skills and no one is hiring" post and i just start sweating and going .... "what is happening..."

[docholligay]

I’m still fascinated that I now feel less equipped to explain what Digimon is than I did before seeing the film

One of the best and most difficult books I've ever read is House of Leaves. House of Leaves, fairly uniquely among horror books, and I say this as someone who reads a lot of horror books, really replicates the feeling of going crazy. Of not being able to trust yourself, of not being able to trust the narrative in front of you, of a screaming doubt in the back of your mind. I actually took a year to read it--I found it so emotionally taxing to read that I had to take frequent breaks.

I wouldn't have guessed that there was something called, "All the disorientation of House of Leaves, but for children, and also bad" but there was the Digimon movie for me!

I sat and watched 90 minutes of digimon content and I feel less qualified than ever to even tell you what is a digimon. They live in the computer unless they don't, they can transform into different power levels but they can go back at the snap of a finger so I'm not sure why they don't immediately transform into SuperMegaUltimate form as soon as a conflict occurs, but there we are.

The bad digimon can also control nuclear weapons, it seems like, if they hack into it? Which was used once and then forgotten about, but seems reasonably relevant to me. Also everyone seems to know Digimon exist while living in what is more or less our world, and so I wonder, why has no one pushed for military operations, at the very least, to be completely analog? I mean, I am dumb as dogshit and not making a franchise, and my first thought with Tracer's CA was that it had to be electronic in the way a clock radio is for safety reasons. I know I'm asking a lot of kids' movie here, to think about literally any detail, but in fairness, they brought it up! It's not like NastyDevilMon got into, I don't know, the school database and ruined the big carnival, so I'm extrapolating of that, no, I need you to know, THE DIGIMON CONTROLLED THE NUCLEAR WARHEADS AND TRIED TO BLOW UP JAPAN.

But by the second act of the movie, we had sort of just, forgotten about that, and instead had a major fight in a national forest that destroyed something that looks like it might be Royal Gorge or one of the other uppers canyons of the Colorado river, because we are in Colorado for the second part, on a road trip.

None of which prepared me for when the digimon transformed into humanoid angels, notably called, Angelman and Angelwoman, boy I wish I was not making this up and was taking a humorous dig at this movie, I don't need to, it digs at itself.

Weirdly, for all of this, it was also boring! It was like wandering an endless mirror maze, which seems disorienting and almost funny but by minute 60 all you can think of is, "When is this thing going to fucking end?" For 90 minutes of run time, maybe 45 minutes of things occur. That's a high level of generosity on my behalf.

The only saving grace of the movie was that it used late 90s American music in the dub, and I have decided no dub is ever allowed to be made now without inserting contemporary American music of the time period, so that when we watch it later everyone can go, 'Oh my god!"

Anyway, Pokemon is not for me and I ahve no fondness for it, but at the very least, I could explain to you what the basic principles of it are and why I assume people like it. No such luck here!

[azlovesem]

Some ancient srupid old usrless duck ssz goif religion customs from wsy way way back fie hard Emma. Thats why i have to kill them. I hope you didnt write that stupid bad gibberish. Abcinet ideas sgoyld be turfed with the religions that supoort then. You see me beating all those losers toba pulp right. Fuck ancient n old sweetoe ots time for it to go. I can nevef clear anything up with you you mever gave me any real chance to. Thats how your class is with mine. Like youre better or something. Better than i am. I think we re gonna have to find that out the extremem hard way. Youre gonna clear shit up all right trust me. Or i will. Buf youre defintely in the wrong for whatever you did snd people paid s price for it Emma. Is it the fucon people in the boat? What is it whats your fuckn problem and are eilling yo do snything sbout ut. I sm and i eill 100 precent.its slresdy on motion. You know where i am. Are ya gonna wait til after again? Lets talk. You know we have to. Something happened between us. We csnt undo it i would if i could. This earthnis getting what it deserves Emma whether yiu like it or not. And yeah i do have an extremely sad past. Its unfortunate i fell right througb the cracks of time. I tried to make up for it bug knce certsin things are done they are done. But us never done nog until one if us ste dead and you know it. We ll nevef sytop thonki g about it or each other. So letd find out. Do t be so stubborn. Everyone geys ehat they deaerve. Thats why Gabriel chose me not you or anyone else. Im very unpredictsblly upset lately thetes no telling what ill do. You can take that threat to the bank: should i shoot upmthar concert? With my stashed ak? Juat fire dtom a covered position at the line? Nah. Those kids never fid ntutn to me. But you did Emma. Youre breaking my heart. Im getting worse with my language and my action amd words. Myveyes will turn black is that whatvyou want.

Emma Watson

[yelenasdiary]

Hello…I didn’t expect to make this request, but I didn’t know who else to turn to, and you’re the most active writer I’ve followed for so long that is still around. (And I’m happy for that, sincerely)

Well, before I request something, let me explain why. I…I’m saying goodbye. (Not that way, don’t worry) I’m saying goodbye…to the fandom…specifically, to reading Natasha x reader fics. I tried for a while to hope for fics where Reader was more of the knight in shining armor, masc presenting woman, or the top in the relationship, but…well, that didn’t happen much. And I’m not bashing on anyone for writing reader as more of the opposite. Not at all, everyone is entitled to write how they want to write….but I can’t just keep coming here and continue to see it be the same troupe. And no matter how much I request for one (and when requests are asked and open) it never happens, and instead it’s something else I didn’t request. So…I think it’s best for me to bid farewell. I cant force writers to write what I want, that’s not how it works. It’s a dick move

Here’s what I want to ask…for my final Natasha x reader fic request:

Reader is a soldier for the United States Air Force. Natasha has been busy as an Avenger. Reader, on leave, tried to spend time with Natasha but was always met with rain checks. On top of that, Natasha has always treated reader as the frail, need to protect, girlfriend, and reader always made it clear she wasn’t much for the pillow process type.

Anyways, reader decides to re-enlist for another deployment and begin a new life, maybe somewhere in Germany I don’t know. But, as she’s packing to leave is when Natasha FINALLY decides to give her the time of day….but it’s too late.

Reader sits Natasha down and says along the lines this, “I’m not the person you want…and we’ve just become different people and are pursuing different things….” She’d go on about how as much as she loves Natasha, she can’t be the partner she expects of her. She’s tired of being made out to be this woman that’s made to be the trophy wife or something like that. That she should find someone who can connect and click with her. Be her true soulmate.

Natasha is heartbroken and wants to fix things. Not expecting this at all. Pleading for a second chance but reader stands her ground. No tears shed, but she’s not cold to her either. Reader leaves, Natasha follows her all the way to the airport, tries one last time but reader doesn’t give in….she bids the redhead farewell…and thanks her for the memories that were amazing. She wishes nothing but happiness for her and a happy life.

…that’s it. Write it, toss it away, it’s fine. I’m just going to leave this here, do with it what you want.

Thanks for the fics you made, specifically the ones where you portrayed reader as the knight in shining armor.

Signing off.

A Final Goodbye

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Masc! Reader

Summary: You take a step back and do what is best for you, and Natasha. 

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this in, I am sorry to hear that you’re leave and I do hope that you’re still around to read this. I do apologise for it taking me a while to get it out, I also just want to say that I do not consider myself a masc lesbian so I do apologise in advance if anything in this is not giving that representation. Rest assured, this is Reader being the lead in this. I hope you enjoy x

You took a deep breath as you zipped up the last duffel bag, feeling the weight of your decision settle across your shoulders. Your small apartment almost empty, leaving most of your belongings in storage. Carefully, you placed the duffle bag with the others before taking a moment to gather your thoughts. 

It had been playing on your mind for a while now, keeping you up at night while you tossed and turned endlessly, wishing things were different but too much had changed over time. You tried to spend time with her, but you only met with rain checks or last-minute cancellations. You missed her but you couldn’t stop thinking about the drift between you two. 

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman you fell for. At first, things were great, you both were on the same page and were very much in the ‘honeymoon’ phase almost every day but like all couples, there were things that you would argue about and there were plenty of things that made you both frustrated. One thing you couldn’t understand was why Nat would consistently treat you like a frail and need to be protected girlfriend. As much as you loved that she cared for you, you hated being treated like a pillow princess. It wasn’t you. 

You didn’t need saving; you didn’t need protecting. You needed somebody who understood you and loved you for you. You always made it clear to Natasha that the pillow princess type wasn’t you at all, you always reminded her that you didn’t need her to protect you from every little thing, after all, you were a soldier. But something about being firm with her just didn’t stick. So, you made the decision to re-enlist for another deployment, making sure that the next time you returned, things would be different. Not just for you but for Natasha as well. 

Natasha knocked softly on the door; it was time. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, meeting her soft green eyes for the first time in weeks. Her famous red locks still damp from the rain outside, her expression a mix of relief and uncertainty. 

“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled on your lips, “Hey, I’m glad you could come” you replied, opening the door wider for her. 

 “I’m so glad you’re still here. I… I thought you might be gone already.” She said softly, her eyes darting to the small pile of duffle bags. 

“I leave tomorrow” you replied, watching as Nat turned around to face you once more. “Can we talk, please?” She asked, her gaze locked onto you. “I want to give you time to talk but I really need you to listen to me first” you said as you gestured that the two of you take a seat. Natasha let out a soft sigh, deep down she knew she wasn’t leaving your apartment the same woman she came as. 

The two of you took a seat at the dining table, the cold surface somehow bringing a little comfort to you in this moment as you gently reached for Natasha’s hand. You looked into her eyes for a moment, taking in the beauty she held. 

“I love you so much, I always will but I need to honest with you, with us. This isn’t so much about the fact our schedules suck and the rain check are rain check. This is about us and how I’m not the person you want” you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in before continuing. “We’ve become different people. We’re pursuing different things and different dreams. I can’t be the partner you expect of me. I’m tired of you only seeing me as this fragile person who needs to protect. I’m a soldier, I’m in the air force. I can hold my own and I want to be respected for that” you added. 

“Detka, I do respect you. You’re everything to me, I don’t mean to make you feel like that….I just, I care about you so, so much but I can’t deal with the thought if something were to happen to you” Natasha pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes.

You smiled softly, trying to keep your own tears from building up, “I know you respect me Nat, but, when you’re around others, you’re not the same. We go from being one to two different people and somehow, you think I’m the one who needs to protected and treated differently….” You paused for a moment, your thumb stroking her soft skin. “We both know that love is such a big, beautiful and powerful thing. It means a lot of things and one of those things is knowing when to let go. You deserve somebody who can give you everything you want, but we know deep down it’s not me” you added. 

A silence fell between you both, Natasha’s face falling, her defenses crumbling as you continued. “I want you to find happiness, even if that means without me. You deserve it.”

“But… what if we can work it out? I can be better, I promise” Natasha said, pleading, her voice breaking as her tears began to fall freely down her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry Nat, but it’s too late. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too”

Natasha’s expression shifted from desperation to heartbreak as she nodded at your words. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, she stood up. “I don’t want to hold you back” she said softly, barely able to look into your eyes. You stood up from your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat as she reached out to hug you one last time. 

“Please be safe” she whispered, “and write to me whenever you’re ready” she added, hugging you tightly. You hugged her back, allowing yourself to feel the love she has for you one last time, hugging her just as tightly back. “I promise” you replied in the same soft whisper. 

As you two parted, you smiled softly at her, hoping it would somehow ease her broken heart a little. “I know this wasn’t what you expected but I want you to know that all the memories we share and the time we had, it was beautiful, and I will forever cherish them. I want nothing but love and happiness for you, don’t hold yourself back from find another love. Be happy Nat, you deserve that” you said.

To your surprise the redhead returned a soft smile, “I will always love you” she spoke ever so gently. 

“And I will always love you” you replied. 

Natasha turned, and headed for the door. You watched her leave, closing the door gently behind her, taking with her a piece of your heart. You took a moment for yourself, part of you broken from the words shared but the other half excited knowing a new chapter awaited. The memories of Natasha would always be with you, reminding you that love can be found again.

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[mellowmadds]

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys | Ethan Landry

Ethan Landry/Female Reader

Summary: Ethan is starting to take his girlfriend for granted and is slowly falling out of love with her.

Warnings: breakup/arguments

Word Count: 1767

Based on: ‘My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys’ by, Taylor Swift

°°••....••°°

Oh, here we go again. Argument after argument, disagreement after disagreement. Their relationship was slowly crumbling in front of their eyes, but they were too blind to see it. Well at least Ethan was but y/n saw right through him and knew how his little games worked.

“You don’t always have to be so uptight, it’s just a party” Ethan argued.

“Yeah it’s just a party but it’s also the middle of the semester we have so much work to get done” y/n said defeated as she sat on Ethans twin xl bed.

“We can just do it this weekend it’s fine” Ethan tried convincing y/n that their schoolwork will get done at some point.

“You know you were never like this before you started becoming best friends with Chad” y/n looked down and played with her hands in her lap.

“Well people change, I’m not going to be the same person I was back in freshman year” Ethan told y/n.

“So are you coming or not? Because I have to get going to meet up with a few friends” Ethan asked y/n before fixing his brown curls in the mirror and putting on a Blackmore University - Police Academy jacket.

Ethan was studying to become a detective trying to follow in his father’s footsteps while you on the other hand were just a film studies major along with your best friends Tara and Mindy.

“No I don’t want to go to this stupid party, I have more important things to be doing with my time” y/n told him with no emotion in her face.

“Are you sure? Everyone is going including Tara, come on just come with me” Ethan pleaded but y/n didn’t reply all she did was put her laptop back in her tote bag as she got ready to leave.

“Fine don’t come then, I don’t care” Ethan told her as he grabbed his keys and phone off his nearby desk.

“You’re more than welcome to stay in my dorm, I’ll be back later in a few hours” Ethan said as he tried making amends with his girlfriend.

“Why would I stay here all alone? We were supposed to be studying together tonight and now you’re just blowing me off to hang out with your friends at a frat party” y/n frowned trying to keep herself together.

“I’m not going to sit here and argue with you y/n” Ethan said, getting ready to leave now.

“I’m not trying to argue with you Ethan it’s just that you promised me that we would spend time together tonight” y/n said a bit heartbroken.

“Okay well I have to go now or else I’m going to be late” Ethan told her before saying his goodbyes and walking out in the middle of the conversation.

Y/n tried not to overreact and gathered her things as she proceeded to go back to her own dorm for the night. The night continued on and y/n finished up the schoolwork she had that was due soon but her mind did wander throughout the night wondering what Ethan was up to. She knew her relationship with him was in a rocky place but she wanted to push through it because she really did love the boy.

Out of the blue she gets a text from Tara stating ‘Ethan is at this frat party flirting with a girl, just giving you a heads up. Sorry :(‘

Tara knew about how your relationship with Ethan was slowly crumbling and she simply was just relaying a message to her best friend her intention was not to hurt y/n but to warn her of her boyfriend's actions.

Immediately after getting that text message y/n grabbed her bag and headed over to the Carpenter apartment knowing that her friend group would be hanging out there after the party. Y/n used her spare key to unlock the door as she arrived and was greeted by Sam who was watching tv in the living room.

“Hey y/n, Tara isn’t home right now but her and your friends should be getting back soon.” Sam said confused and concerned as to why y/n was bursting through her door at this time of night.

“Sorry I should have asked if I could come over first” y/n apologized.

“No, it’s okay you don’t have to apologize. you're more than welcome here at any time” Sam responded back, concerned as to why y/n was so upset.

“Why didn’t you go to the party?” Sam asked curiously.

“Well Ethan and I were supposed to spend time together tonight but he decided to blow me off so he can go to this frat party with Chad” y/n said trying to hold back tears.

“And Tara just texted me telling me that he was flirting with some girl there” y/n said frustrated and upset.

Before Sam could reply Tara, Chad, Mindy, Anika, and Ethan came in through the apartment door. As soon as Tara saw y/n standing in the middle of the living room she immediately knew why she was there. Tara and Sam gave each other looks before hurrying to their bedrooms, Tara grabbing Chad's arm taking him with her. Both Mindy and Anika say their goodbyes before heading back to their dorm room for the night not wanting to get involved in Ethan and y/n’s messy situation. This left Ethan and y/n all alone in the living room, y/n already on the verge of tears.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to your dorm for the night” Ethan asked but it sounded as if he didn’t really care.

“T-Tara texted me when she was at the party to tell me that you were flirting with some girl” y/n said some tears spilling down her cheeks. Ethan rolled his eyes.

“I was not we were just talking, she’s in one of my econ classes” Ethan raised his voice at y/n causing her to flinch.

“Are you cheating on me Ethan? Just tell me the truth” y/n asked softly.

“What? No! I would never do that to you y/n” Ethan yelled trying to defend himself and his actions.

“Then why have you been so distant with me, it’s like you’re not even the same person I fell in love with.” y/n cried backing up away from Ethan.

“Because I don’t love you anymore” Ethan finally admitted, a heavy weight finally lifting off his chest.

Y/n felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She felt her breath leave her lungs but couldn’t feel any new air coming back in. Y/n hugged herself as the tears began to fall as she backed up and took a seat on the couch.

“Y/n please look at me, talk to me.” Ethan pleaded, trying to get y/n to relax.

“I’m I’m sorry y/n please. You know I still care about you and I’ll always love you, just not romantically anymore.” Ethan hesitated before saying the last part of that sentence.

Y/n always thought that Ethan was the one. The one she would get engaged to, married to, and have children with and get to grow old together. They were both starting their senior year of college and were finally getting ready to move forward and start a new chapter in life. But not anymore, y/n felt her whole world crashing around her. Four amazing years of her life down the drain, their relationship started senior year of high school and was now falling apart and ending their senior year of college. Chad and Tara, Mindy and Anika were all going to continue growing up together and experience all those things y/n hoped and dreamed she would get to experience with Ethan. Jealousy would be an understatement, y/n couldn’t express the feelings she was experiencing.

“Don’t touch me” y/n said as she pushed Ethan’s hand off her shoulder.

“Please y/n don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry I truly am sorry.” Ethan begged her to understand.

“I’m just thankful you finally told me the truth” Y/n said barely above a whisper as she tried wiping her tears away.

“Just give me time to process this, please.” Y/n asked him hoping he would give her some space to be able to think about things.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm? I don’t want you walking back this late at night alone.” Ethan asked gently. Y/n only nodded her head yes knowing that it would be safer if he did walk her back to her dorm.

Ethan grabbed her tote bag and waited for her to follow him out the door. It was a cold chilly night in NYC and Ethan could see the poor girl was shivering. He carefully took his Blackmore University - Police Academy jacket off and handed it to her hoping she would take it.

“Thanks Eth” Y/n thanked him, accidentally calling him the nickname she gave him all those years ago.

Ethan gave her a sympathetic smile and continued walking her to her dorm building. As they arrived Ethan handed her the tote bag back and waited until she was inside the building before leaving.

Ethan could feel the regret sinking in as he walked back to his own dorm building just a few minutes away. As y/n entered her dorm she finally let the tears flow and started sobbing as she tossed her tote bag in the corner of her room before removing his jacket and tossing it on her desk chair. She pulled out the chair and sat down as she looked at the framed picture of her and Ethan from sophomore year before gently taking it and placing it face down on the desk. She then turned her attention to the fish tank sitting in her room remembering she forgot to feed the fish this morning. Ethan got her the pet fish as an anniversary gift, the fish was hiding in the sandcastle rock they picked out for it. Y/n fed the fish before taking her shoes off and getting in bed after this long exhausting and heartbreaking day.

“My boy only breaks his favorite toys, I’m queen of sand castles he destroys. Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch. He saw forever so he smashed it up. Oh, my boy only breaks his favorite toys.”

[steviebbboi]

About soulmate!au with Steve and vigilante Reader!!!!!!! Pretty please 💕💕💕

ahhhhhhhhhh let me tell you first how happy i am that ya sent in that request. ive been dying to write a soulmate au for the longest time -- im so excited to continue with it.

some tings/hc's/lore:

Soulmate AU where people who have soulmates develop their soulmate’s heart rate on the inside of their wrists. It’s a light gray color that just slightly glows and when you touch it, it can fade but eventually comes back. When they meet for the first time/find each other, the heart rate burns slightly and becomes a permanent tattoo on their wrist. Doesn’t fade but turns into a faded black tattoo. 

Avengers era where its post-Accords and Civil War AU where the fight ended up with things being alright btwn the team and the world.

Steve finds comfort in mark but doesn't wanna put his soulmate in jeopardy. He, in classic Steve nature, is a martyr in that way -- not wanting to make his soulmate go through the dangers of him being Cap.

Reader never wants to meet her soulmate since she witnessed her parents go through a toxic relationship as soulmates

Both Steve and Reader will indeed NOT receive the luxury of ignoring each other/soulmates

Reader is a robinhood vigilante that despite her best efforts, will hold great admiration for Steve, as he would her.

Reader will try her best to not be drawn by Steve's presence but her resistance is futile. They were meant for each other and they have the tattoo to show for it!

~~thank you so much for sending it in. im excited! honestly, im so excited, here's a lil snippet:

The Heart and the Head (Captain America/Steve Rogers x F!Vigilante!Reader) sneakpeek 👀

Despite not seeking them out, seeing that mark was the only thing that he had to grasp onto sometimes. It felt familiar and felt like home.

One brush across his wrist was enough for him to start his day but never preoccupied his thoughts for too long lest he wanted to bring himself a shot of angst in the beginning of his day. 

But he couldn’t help the stray thoughts that would come sometimes when the day would be too idle. What did she look like? They say that your soulmate smells like the scents that attract you the most. Would she smell like fresh ambrosia? The potency of a fresh summer day? These questions stalked Steve when the days ran long and the nights became darker by each hour. Suppressing them became harder the more that he carried his mantle as Captain America. 

Witnessing his team, feeling the camaraderie, even seeing Tony and Pepper just reminded him of what he was truly living for– he wanted to serve and protect. He just never gave thought about himself, or to consider building his own life personally until after the blip. As everyone frantically looked for others and found them again, he realized the importance of being someone other than Captain America…of being important to someone. His soulmate.

But how could he place his soulmate into a position to cope with the fact that he’s not just Steve Rogers.

“Captain Rogers, an alert has just been registered within the parameters that you’ve previously requested.” The dulcet tones of FRIDAY’s Irish brogue interrupted Steve’s daydreaming.

Steve’s heart thundered in his chest in anticipation, “Thank you, FRIDAY.” More alert than ever, he pressed a few keys on his desktop to pull up a live feed of one other thing that seemed to preoccupy his mind lately. 

One thing that did come out of the Accords was that they’ve learned to finally listen. More than ever, Steve understood how important the Avengers needed to be mindful of reparations after their dangerous missions. Civil liberties should include repairing what was ruptured, and so, more efforts have gone into not only world-saving missions but also local crimes. 

There was a new vigilante on scene– every time that he’s sent an agent to apprehend said Enhanced, they seem to always slip right through their fingers. Until today.

Steve watched the masked vigilante calmly center themselves in the middle of the armed room – and with a gallant wave, the contents of the room that once sparkled expensive jewels and gems vanished leaving stark, blank empty display shelves. 

The robber’s face flashing a grainy smirk through the lens of the video, with one last wave of their hand, they disappear from view as if they were never even there. 

Watching the feed one more time, Steve couldn’t help but release his own smaller smirk at witnessing the thief in the act once more. FRIDAY promptly pulled up news headlines next to the feed to reveal in huge bold font:

“Brooklyn’s ‘Heart’ Makes Its Mark: Stolen Gems Become Jewels for the Local Community”

hoping to get this out soon!!!!!

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@mrsevans90

[juste-en-passant]

So I’m extra late to the party, I just fell randomly on your post. But I’m going to react, bc I really agree with a part of your view, especially the marauder part. Keep in mind that I haven’t read any of the books in years, so I’m going with the lingering impression they left me with. So I’m not going to compare with the Golden Trio, or with the Malfoy’s friendship. Because I never had big thought on them.

First thing being : the entire story is a harry POV, so a subjective one, and from a 11 year old child with skewered biased views on society, coming from his primary socialization: the Dursley family. In the first book at least. Of course, he is going to see his father’s friend as a cool group, and of course his childhood rival and friends are going to be ugly idiots. And he is going to make fun about people’s face’s, and be dehumanizing, because as a child he always was, and he witnessed his aunt and uncle being dehumanizing talking about everything and everyone. He reproduce a pattern, because no one ever call him out. He went straight from the Dursley’s to almost raising himself in school (and meeting trauma after trauma along the way). He had a few parenting figures after that, the Weasley parents especially, but he saw them what, a few weeks every year? And they already had to parent a lot of other children. He was a calm child who never really was mean or violent towards anyone, so he was left alone most of the time. nobody parented him, he reproduced things he saw.

So yes, he may have all the defaults you listed. He also may have had an unweakened bisexuality that only showed up as “this man is so handsome. Yes he murdered my parents, but he is objectively gorgeous”. And we need to read this POV more critically, because it is not an omniscient narrator, but a subjective POV, and as we are not 11 anymore, we can begin to search for little psychological cues about Harry’s bias, and about how things really happened.

About the Slytherins: I don’t have a specially negative feeling about them. I think they were a group already formed when they entered Hogwarts, so they didn’t completely mixed with the other kids. And yes, I feel draco really cared about Crabbe, who he knew since they were both in diapers. Their relationship can’t be compared to the one of the golden trio or the marauders, who met in their first yea at Hogwarts. It’s a different dynamic is all.

About the golden trio, yes, Harry imprinted on Ron who was the first nice kid to him, and had an epidermic reaction to draco being condescending to his new friend. The first interaction in Mrs. Malkin was not a bad one, I don’t remember him having strong feelings about Draco at that time, draco who was only doing small talks, as he was trained to do, not especially friendly, or unfriendly. He was eleven and overwhelmed because his whole world just went bang. About Hermione : yes, sometimes it feels like pity friendship.

The marauder analysis is going to be the big part of this. Because the fascinating part of the marauder, that I don’t think JKR intentionally made up, is that they are the perfect representation of the dynamic of a small group of school bullies. And I say that as a person who met some.

And you pointed some of those elements:

For me, the core of the Marauder has always been James and Sirius.

James was an only child from a rich family (I think that’s canon), who, at 11, was kind of arrogant, but also raised in some values that he should care about others. And then he met Sirius, eldest (but not only) child of a rich and not so good family (having “met” the eldest version of his mother in canon, this clearly was an abusive household).

Sirius who was already rejecting in his mind everything that came from his family (I don’t think he already had a deep consciousness awakening  about his family’s value, just that he was extremely unhappy with his life), met James, and latched onto him (like Harry on Ron), as his first friend. And we can at least give it to James: he did not held the fact that Sirius was a Black against him immediately. This beginning of friendship is what gave Sirius the courage to make his final decision to go to Gryffindor (and it took a great deal of bravery, the hat wasn’t wrong about that. Snape, in a kind of similar situation, didn’t. But response to trauma differ from people to people and I digress).

Then came the two “minions”, as you said, Remus, and Peter.

Peter is a follower. Pure and simple. He is attracted to the aura of James and Sirius, he admires them, and love being part of the “popular” group. He is not really their friend (not deeply). And they (as you pointed out) are not very nice to him either. They  still make fun of him, and belittle him. He is just (I think) trying to go through his school years without being picked on too much. In situations where the group was bullying Snape or other people, he may even have been an aggravating factor, adding worse and worse ideas just to get approval from them.

And then there’s Remus. Often presented as the “nice one”, the one following the rules. That they may have picked by the goodness of their heart, because he was alone and sad, but was also extraordinarily convenient to the group : he was a brilliant student (I don’t remember, but I felt at some point that maybe they used him a little  for homework.. like Ron and harry did Hermione) and later a prefect. And as a prefect, he was very lenient with them and let them get away with a lot. Because he felt he owed them that. Because like peter, he was not “popular” coded, and felt grateful they took him in, even after they found out he was a werewolf, and he loved them for that. So no he never did anything to stop them.

And you are right on something else: they are never really presented as a group of bullies. Even in the half blood prince where it all blows up. The fact that Snape was their primary victim lowers the effect of this revelation(in my opinion), because at that point nobody likes him, and because he was also a little bitchy in school. They all were. They were teenagers. With magical powers. Obviously thing were about to go bumpy. So Harry is shocked by the fact his father and friends were not just brilliant pranksters, but also vicious bullies,  but not that much, because it is snape. And then Snapes murders Voldemort, so somehow, emotionally to harry (and to the reader) this seems to justify the bullying (see: they were right to attack him, he was bad from the start! which does not means this is true. Because their treatment of him participated in aggravating tendencies already present).

So will regret forever that this revelation didn’t come from another person, maybe someone Harry likes, and discovers they knew the marauders. So harry comes talk to them and gets an awkward face of someone who doesn’t want to talk ill of the boy’s dead’s parent. But they stuck him into a ceiling in his underwear in the middle of November, repeatedly humiliated them publicly and destroyed one of their most prized possession as a prank so he really doesn’t have great memory to share. And thinking about all that makes a panic attack begin so they just babble banality and flee to hyperventilate in peace.

So I’m not anti marauder, and not anti anyone really. And I agree with you one a thing in particular: the Potters are not all perfect, and the Malfoys are not all Shallow. They all have layers, imperfections. Good and bad moments. And thank the force for that : they are fleshed out characters who feel like people.

....

Few. That was a big rant, sorry

Double Standards: Malfoys vs Potters Edition

It's interesting how people view the Malfoy vs Potter men. The Malfoys are often considered shallow while the Potters are lauded for befriending the "downtrodden".

James Potter befriended Remus Lupin, a disadvantaged werewolf. He and his friends became animagi for Lupin. That's great and all...but then why was Remus so hesitant to go against the status quo and speak out against the marauders - to do his job as prefect?

And James treated Wormtail like trash too.

‘How thick are you, Wormtail?’ said James impatiently. ‘You run round with a werewolf once a month –’

Nice to say that out loud where anyone can hear, Jamie.

‘Put that away, will you,’ said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer, ‘before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.’ Wormtail turned slightly pink, but James grinned.

“Lily and James only made you Secret Keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backwards. “I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you… it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.”

You really don't get the vibe that Sirius or James held little Petie in high regard, do you?

It can't be more obvious that Sirus and James were top dogs and Peter and Remus were just add-ons.

As for Harry, where to start with him? He shows little empathy for other people and has a nasty habit of describing people in dehumanizing ways (eg. Aberforth, Salazar Slytherin, Marcus etc). He has probably described Tom Riddle, the guy who murdered his parents, as attractive more times than his own girlfriend Ginny. He latched on to Ron because of his family and honestly, Hermione feels like a pity friend at times. Harry hardly likes being around her without Ron. Harry has another nasty habit of giving his best friends the silent treatment until they come crawling back to him, even when he is in the wrong too (re firebolt for Hermione and Ron believing Harry entered his name in the goblet of fire).

‘Hullo,’ said the boy, ‘Hogwarts too?’ ‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,’ said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. ‘Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.’

Yet, no one seems to give Lucius and Draco any credit. These people are supposed to be snobby, pureblood supremacists. Yet, even though Harry was dressed in decrepit muggle clothes, Draco still engaged him in conversation. Draco had no idea who Harry was, had no clue he was famous at the time, and still made several efforts to talk with him and continue the conversation even when Harry was cold and aloof.

And Severus Snape moved off to the other side of the Hall, away from Lily, to where the Slytherins were cheering him, to where Lucius Malfoy, a prefect badge gleaming upon his chest, patted Snape on the back as he sat down beside him …

Lucius knows 'Snape' is not a pureblood name. He could see Snape's clothes were probably old hand-me-downs. He knows Snape is way below his class. Yet, he still welcomes Snape warmly to Slytherin. What reason would he have to fake pleasantries with a poor half-blood? I doubt Slughorn or the other bigoted purebloods would care if Lucius left his seat in disgust at Snape's presence. Even as adults, it is indicated in the narrative multiple times that Lucius holds Snape in high esteem. Draco held Snape in high esteem too despite being a halfblood.

The same Snape that James Potter tormented for no good reason - because Snape existed. Instead of targetting the purebloods like Avery and Mulciber, James and his delinquent loser gang went after Snape, the poor half-blood. Harry literally did nothing as Snape lay dying in the same shack that Lupin almost killed him in two decades prior.

Harry describes Pansy as being pug-faced...yet Draco still dated her. Even though Crabbe turned on him, Draco still grieved for him afterwards. Compared to Harry who only dates the prettiest girls and body shames other girls if they don't meet his standard and only cares about people who do things for him, like him and are loyal to him. It's only when the people he dislikes die for him that he changes his tune and suddenly they become great people.

How can people say the Potters are less shallow than the Malfoys??Draco and Lucius will always be high-class elitists who believe in sticking with their 'own kind' but give credit where credit is due.

[rememberingliampayne]

Dear Liam,

I first found out about 1D in late 2011 when a friend told me about 1D and wanted me to listen to the music and watch the music videos. I liked Gotta Be you the best back then and even then when I had no idea who any of you were i was drawn to your voice the most.

Then she made me watch the Up All Night DVD and what I can say: it was you from the very first minute. I cant say for sure what it was today, but I think it was your beautiful brown warm eyes and your big genuine smile that got me. And it never changed, you were my favorite from the beginning and you will always be my favorite.

I just realized in retroperspect that I was so drwan to you because i could relate to you: your perfectionism, the way you made sure everyone was fine (the fans, the band…) and also some of your mannerism. It helped me so much to see someone perceived as mature as you also show your joy and your playfulness because I did not have to be only mature – I could also be a kid at the same time. You got a lot of backlash when you slowly started to break out of the 'Daddy direction' role and it always felt unfair to me to burden you with that role. I think a lot of the last 10 years would have been different for you if that role had not fallen onto you.

I just want you to know that I appreciated you publically breaking out of the role more than you could ever known. You helped a girl that surpressed her own feelings for years to try to ease her familys burden, that tried to play grown up when she wasnt and had to deal with the consequences from all that for a long time to break out of this cycle. I dont think I would have been able to do that if not for you showing me that you dont have to play a role to ease others burden.

I still have to deal with some of the consequences of that and I dont think I will ever fully overcome it but I got a lot better and am in a mental place I never could have imagined. I will forever be sad that you did not get the help to overcome your struggles. You deserved it so much.

It makes me so angry that you never got to show us the music you were so proud of, that you never got to go on a proper tour. You were made to sing and to perform, your stage presence was one of the best I ever experienced. Your voice was so angelic, I would have listened to anything you would have sung. You helped so many people get better but never got the chance to get better yourself.

Liam, it was you from the very first time I heard a 1D song and watched any videos of you and it was you during your solo adventure till the end. It will always be you. I always rooted so hard for you and wished you everything you wanted, especially happiness. I will carry the sadness that you never got your happy end til the day I die. I am not religious but I believe in an afterlife and I am so absolutely sure that you got all the happiness and everything good you ever deserved up there. I hope you can see that despite you receiving so much hate there is also so much love for you.

At the moment the grief is too strong form me to listen to your music. But I know that once the grief is not as raw anymore I will happy bop to your voice again until I will hear it again in the afterlife.

Sleep well Liam, you deserve the peace.

[zekescherries]

﹒ LEFT BEHIND! ﹔ ft ＃ zeke yeager ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕a living reminder of what he sacrificed, of what he left behind in pursuit of a "saving" opportunity for the eldian people.

PAIRING﹕zeke yeager × female!reader ﹒ post-rumbling

CHAPTER(S)﹕next

CONTENT WARNING﹕pregnancy & childbirth (mentioned) + grieving + single-parenthood + slight ptsd + dead!zeke + dark themes + pet names (zeke calls you peach) (i know not everyone is for pet names) + intentional lowercase & more as the story progresses

"what's your name, little one?"

"veil."

"ah. . ." mrs. annelie's gentle hand reaches out, her slim fingers weaving through the soft waves of veil's blond strands. the girl almost looks like a doll, the older woman can't help but admire her.

"you look just like your father, with those. . ." she falters. "pretty eyes." as the woman speaks veil blinks, her words come as a confusing mishmash of speech to her.

annelie remembers that gaze all too well, first belonging to that man.

this time, it's softer. curious and innocent.

the wooden floorboards creak, announcing your presence before you can verbally. "mrs. . .annelie," a sigh escapes your lips. seeing her familiar face lifts a weight off your shoulders, weight you didn't even know you were holding onto. she steps forward, bringing you into a hug. one that reminds you of your late mother.

"how are you, dear?" she asks.

you chuckle, glancing down at veil who returns your numerous tired look. "i'm doing better." you answer truthfully.

grieving while being a single mother was a challenge, nothing could've prepared you for that.

"oh, sweetheart. . ." mrs. annelie's hand grifts over to your face, cupping your cheek in her hand. "you have people who will support you." you know she's right. "don't be afraid to ask for any help."

you didn't even know you needed that reassurance until now.

"thank you, i really do appreciate everything." you give her a slow nod.

the evening has passed and as you wave mrs. annelie goodbye veil stays by your side. now that you think of it, it's nearing her bedtime.

"ready for a bath, peach?" you ask, the nickname rolling off your tongue.

veil nods, watching you close the door. her clothes are a stained mess from the food she ate earlier. you scoop your little girl up, her hair brushing up against your chin.

stepping over toys and pieces of paper you make it to the bathroom. hopefully the water runs properly this time around, house appliance complications weren't rare; especially with how the world looked.

but for right now, you focus on the little gremlin whom you've grown to adore. even while she was still inside the womb.

.

.

.

his lighter finally flashes, trying to catch a small flame. it's clicking is one of the only sounds in the room. when the cigarette is finally lit he brings it up to his lips.

maybe he should kick this habit, but not now.

his shoulders rise, then they fall and ease into a relaxed position while he exhales a cloud of smoke. "zeke," he turns around, the dim lamp providing you with light. enough light that his hair shines gold in your eyes.

you pat your lap, a gesture that tells him to lay his head in your lap. "making room for me, peach?" zeke crawls across his bed, the mattress dipping at his weight.

you smile, welcoming him with open arms. "of course. . ."

.

.

.

.

the sun's warm ray shines on your back, you adjust, sitting up in your bed only to look over and see veil sleeping next to you. her bed is only a few steps away in the other room yet she finds comfort in sleeping in your bed.

"another one of those dreams. . ." you ponder for a moment, stretching your arms above your head. reoccurring dreams of the past haunt you. reminding you of what used to be.

what you could've still had if things had been different.

". . .mama," veil calls out to you, her voice a bit gruff, laced with tiredness. "i'm right here." you lay a hand on her head, petting her hair and bringing her close.

you feel yourself on the brink of tears, yet you shake the feeling off. not wanting veil to witness her mother in such a state. it's been so long since you've let yourself grieve, veil will never know her father. she'll never experience what it feels like to have her father at her side. your heart breaks for her.

"how about we visit uncle levi?"

veil nods, her head tucked into your shoulder.

"okay, mama."

© zekescherries , 🍒