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audioroleplayconfessions · 8 months ago

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In response to the ask for a chemotherapy comfort audio - mild CW for addressing real world health issues including seizures, and apologies for the colossal post, but I felt this is an important topic;

Hey, random meh VA/writer here, just giving my thoughts on this sort of subject in general.

Firstly, I mean no slight against people who do niche comfort audios for real things. If you enjoy that kind of stuff, more power to you! If you make content that broaches real things like this, I have some thoughts but by all means make the content you want! Just giving a few of my thoughts on why I personally err away from making these audios.

The issue as I see it is that there's a murky line between addressing real world issues responsibly, and addressing them in a way that feels wrong. This is why I say it's murky, because it very much comes down to how it feels, it's hard to quantify. There are a lot of period comfort/reverse comfort audios out there, and while I'm not against them (in fact one from a few years ago comes to mind that was very well-written), a lot of people I've spoken to are put-off by them particularly when done by male VAs.

I feel some of the concern with real world issue audios like these is when they're not done with the right amount of familiarity with the subject, or when they feel like they're done for the wrong reasons, i.e. if they're not approached properly they can come off as somewhat... fetishistic? Exploitative?

As an example of the former, coming-out audios. Honestly I have a deep respect for this genre of comfort audio even if they're not my kind of thing, but they do need to be written with the right amount of respect, and you can really get a feeling if the writer isn't familiar enough with the subject, even if they mean well. There's a reason sensitivity readers are important; I'm sure I don't need to list the potential pitfalls of an autism comfort audio if made by someone with no experience with autism. (don't have any creators in mind here, not disparaging anyone, just giving possible examples)

Again, I'm not knocking real life styled comfort audios, it's wonderful they exist! A small VA I saw years ago comes to mind whose speaker characters are (IIRC) all blind, because the creator themselves is also blind, and so the topic felt extremely respectfully and knowledgeably explored! These concerns are just among the reasons I personally don't really do them.

That said, for the subjects I feel I have enough experience to be able to comment meaningfully, some of my audios address fictionalised issues that are coded similarly to these sorts of things, and I feel that as long as I'm careful to make sure the subtext isn't carrying an unintended negative message, then listeners are able to read in their own interpretations depending on how they relate. Honestly the way people react to these sorts of audios means the world! For instance I had an audio where the listener reveals to the speaker that they aren't human. It was a fantasy comfort/acceptance audio, which (while initially unintended) was very obviously coded as a coming-out audio. I'd spotted the coding late in writing, and just made sure that the subtext was respectful to that but I didn't explicitly lean into it, but later a queer friend thanked me for it saying it meant a lot the way it was written, that it was meaningful to them. Other of my characters are coded as genderqueer, so while the stories are fictional and fantastical, their experiences are relatable - to my own experiences and hopefully to the listeners as well - and allow me to address these feelings and, I hope, deliver a good message without hammering the audience with real world problems.

Conversely, imagine if a fictional coming-out story's subtext happened to be "it's better to be what other people tell you to be, don't be who you are" - even if it's a story about magical creatures and not queer people, the message is a problem. I put a lot of thought into one audio I made when I realised the subtext was "gullibly believe what people tell you even when they don't have evidence" to make sure the fictional story still worked for what I was going for, and also didn't unintentionally promote harmful reasoning.

I think I've only gotten a direct request once for a real-world comfort audio; someone commented asking for a seizure comfort audio. As I explained in response, if someone with enough experience on the subject wants to make comfort audios on that subject that sounds great, but I definitely don't know anywhere near enough to be comfortable doing that. For me to weigh in on seizure comfort in a story... I could probably throw something functional and well-meaning together, but it just feels wrong for me to do that. I'm ignorant on the subject, it would feel to me like I were condescending down to people who actually have seizures about their own conditions. A little while later they responded again, I think in their mind trying to pep me up and give some suggestions for a scenario I could write (there's another conversation to be had about unsolicited requests but I'll leave that here). Coincidentally, in the time between my response and their response back, my mother had had a seizure in front of me, and I had received the second "could you make a seizure comfort audio?" comment while she was still at the hospital (she's fine, full recovery). I regret the way I was more terse in my response after that, the commenter deleted everything after so I couldn't reach out later in a better headspace and apologise. But I guess this is the key issue with addressing real world problems in fiction; they're still real world problems. If you're going to do it, you have to do it responsibly.

For the ask this was in response to; if I were asked if I could make a chemo comfort audio, I think it'd have to be a no. I don't have enough knowledge on the subject to feel like I could comfortably comment on it. I could make a generic "you're in the hospital feeling bad" comfort audio, but for me to then slap a "chemo comfort" in the title and no no other work feels to me exploitative. If any of my illness comfort scenarios are relatable to anyone in a similar situation, it's genuinely awesome when people relate to things like that! I do try to make sure that whatever coding the story has, even if it's not intentional, the story isn't delivering a bad message it shouldn't be.

Am I overthinking things? Maybe. Sorry for the huge message again, I understand if the esteemed Ringmaster feels this ask isn't the kind of thing they're looking for and doesn't post it, that's cool! Just had a lot of thoughts in response.

Also most importantly; to the asker and to anyone else going through chemo or similar, sending you energy and love, and wishing you all the best!

I dunno, call me N

#anonymous confessions #anon replies to anon #confession from a VA #comfort audios

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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years ago

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hey! I know the little dair fandom has talked about blair's decision to run back to chuck as something that could technically make sense for her character (if executed better as a decision of fear that her happiness with dan could never last)... but what do you think about dan sleeping with serena after hearing he "lost blair"? please keep in mind i get watched the last part of s5/6 so if i missed something here sorry lol

aha another softball! lol. I so appreciate you asking this question and I do have a lot of thoughts about it, so many that this response is long, and there is discussion of the dubious situations of consent and sexual coercion that happens in the show so for safety I'm putting the rest of this under a read more. Please read responsibly <333

simply put....yes, unfortunately I do think it fits the MO of Dan Humphrey, Self-Saboteur. the specifics of the situation are more complex than that -- which I'll get to in a sec -- but yes, I think it makes sense for his character. he does have this pattern. when he and Vanessa were having problems at the end of s3 and beginning of s4 (again. complex!) he turned to Serena, and in s2 when he and Serena were on the ropes (again) his crush on She Who Will Not Be Named got wayyyy too out of hand, and in s1 when he felt that Serena was withholding and on the verge of breaking up with him, he spent the night with Georgina.

Actually, come to think of it, there's intricate complications to all these events that exacerbates the abandonment issues Dan already has - complications that aren't necessarily within his control (His grief over Milo; stress of Vanessa's summer abroad/his father's marriage/Jenny's depression; being led on by an adult that should have known better; Georgina's manipulation of Serena's attachment to him). That being said, he does have this pattern, ever since his mother leaves and Vanessa leaves him for the first time, that when he sees trouble coming, when he sees the fall out of being left coming, he acts out, almost as if to do something egregious enough to justify being left. something to make himself deserve it.

So, with all of that character stuff at play, it makes sense that Dan would try to...numb the pain of Blair leaving him for someone else with Serena. BUT. I would be remiss if I were to talk about this and not address the truly fucked up behavior Serena exhibits in the episode (and arguably - I'll get to it in a minute - she kind of didn't need to?):

She knows of Dan's ultimatum to Blair to show up for him at this party, and therefore conspires to keep Blair away as long as possible, she gets Dan drunk and vulnerable and alone, and disrobed (I think she spills a drink on them? it's been a while since I've watched because it Upsets Me and furthermore it is Fake), and when she has enough circumstantial evidence to prove Blair is currently with Chuck, she makes her move, and Dan, drunk, alone, and vulnerable, falls into his pattern of self-sabotage. AND - Serena films their whole encounter without his prior knowledge or consent, as....blackmail material? I think she was planning to show Blair as some twisted revenge thing?

The cracks of Dair's breakup were already there, but not irreparable: Blair was afraid of this new future, Dan was a bunch of raw nerve endings stacked up together wearing a trenchcoat after falling in love so hard for someone every damn time for the last five years, and they were both fragile from that. But what Serena did, to manipulate the situation and spin it to her advantage, she did because she is perhaps one of the few people in the world who knows blair and dan so well to prey upon their vulnerabilities like this, and because she's serena, they both trust her, and she exploits that trust, and violates Dan in an...irreparable kind of way.

and, as I've been writing this response I've been thinking....she really did not have to go that far. and to what end? gossip!serena as we know is #notmyserena, but the...the extent of the troubles she took to orchestrate how everything went down, using the minions (or maybe just Penelope?), the revenge porn (BOOO BAD NO GOOD VERY BAD), all the manipulations, she didn't have to. Or, at least, the writing of the show could have executed the circumstance better, without the cost to serena's character or dan and serena's relationship.

I joke about Gossip Girl's original sin being pivoting Chuck Bass into being the romantic male lead without actually trying, but maybe the real original sin, before they tried that, was the compulsion to always be upping the stakes, to make the character's actions escalate to the most salacious things they could think of in that moment, without considering what living out those situations would do to a real person. You could throw a dart at any plot point really and see this, but it becomes more blatant as the show goes on, and you can sort of...well, like this post, see the stitching on the back of the canvas. the gaps are more gaping and harder to explain away. having two characters break up wasn't enough, they had to make it as dramatic as possible, without the consideration of the toll that it would take on the characters involved. Blair sure, Serena yes, but especially Dan.

ummmmmmm also I talk about this a lot in my longform post s5 au Mouthful of Forevers available on an ao3 near you xoxo

#blairwaldcrf #asks #some more blitzing of the ask box on this saturday night #gg meta #mind the warning at the top #typical gg fuckery you know how it is #anti serena van der woodsen #gossip!serena my beloathed #s5 finale my beloathed #it's fake it can't hurt you I tell myself

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fatliberation · 3 years ago

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I’m Abandoning Body Positivity and Here’s Why

In short: it’s fatphobic.

“A rallying cry for a shift in societal norms has now become the skinny girl’s reassurance that she isn’t really fat. Fatness, through this lens of ‘body positivity’, remains the worst thing a person can be.�� (Kayleigh Donaldson)

• • •

I have always had a lot of conflicting opinions about the body positivity movement, but it’s much more widely known (and accepted, go figure) than the fat liberation movement, so I often used the two terms interchangeably in conversation about anti-fatness. But the longer I’ve been following the body positivity movement, the more I’ve realized how much it has strayed from its fat lib origins. It has been hijacked; deluded to center thin, able, white, socially acceptable bodies.

Bopo’s origins are undoubtedly grounded in fat liberation. The fat activists of the 1960s paved the way for the shred of size acceptance we see in media today, initially protesting the discrimination and lack of access to equal opportunities for fat people specifically. This early movement highlighted the abuse, mental health struggles, malpractice in the medical field, and called for equal pay, equal access, equal respect, an end to fatphobic structures and ideas. It saddens me that it hasn’t made much progress in those regards.

Today, the #bopo movement encapsulates more the idea of loving your own body versus ensuring that individuals regardless of their weight and appearance are given equal opportunities in the workplace, schools, fashion and media. Somehow those demands never made it outside of the ‘taboo’ category, and privileged people would much more readily accept the warm and fuzzy, sugar-coated message of “love yourself!” But as @yrfatfriend once said, this idea reduces fat people’s struggles to a problem of mindset, rather than a product of external oppressors that need to be abolished in order for fat people to live freely.

That generalized statement, “love yourself,” is how a movement started by fat people for the rights of fat people was diluted so much, it now serves a thin model on Instagram posting about how she has a tummy roll and cellulite on her thighs - then getting praised for loving her body despite *gasp!* its minor resemblance to a fat body.

Look. Pretty much everyone has insecurities about their bodies, especially those of us who belong to marginalized groups. If you don’t have body issues, you’re a privileged miracle, but our beauty-obsessed society has conditioned us to want to look a certain way, and if we have any features that the western beauty standard considers as “flaws,” yeah! We feel bad about it! So it’s not surprising that people who feel bad about themselves would want to hop on a movement that says ‘hey, you’re beautiful as you are!’ That’s a message everyone would like to hear. Any person who has once thought of themselves as less than beautiful now feels that this movement is theirs. And everyone has insecurities, so everyone feels entitled to the safe space. And when a space made for a minority includes the majority, the cycle happens again and the majority oppresses the minority. What I’m trying to explain here is that thin people now feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces.

Regardless of how badly thin people feel about their bodies, they still experience thin privilege. They can sit down in a theater or an airplane without even thinking about it, they can eat in front of others without judgement, they can go the doctor with a problem and actually have it fixed right away, they can find cute clothes in their size with ease, they do not suffer from assumptions of laziness/failure based on stereotype, they see their body type represented everywhere in media, the list goes on and on. They do not face discrimination based off of the size of their body.

Yet diet culture and fatphobia affects everyone, and of course thin people do still feel bad about the little fat they have on their bodies. But the failure to examine WHY they feel bad about it, is what perpetuates fatphobia within the bopo movement. They’re labeled “brave” for showing a pinch of chub, yet fail to address what makes it so acceptably daring, and how damaging it is to people who are shamed for living in fat bodies. Much like the rest of society, thin body positivity is still driven by the fear of fat, and does nothing to dismantle fatphobia within structures or within themselves.

Evette Dionne sums it up perfectly in her article, “The Fragility of Body Positivity: How a Radical Movement Lost Its Way.”

“The body-positive media economy centers these affirming, empowering, let-me-pinch-a-fat-roll-to-show-how-much-I-love-myself stories while failing to actually challenge institutions to stop discriminating against fat people. More importantly, most of those stories center thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual women who have co-opted the movement to build their brands. Rutter has labeled this erasure ‘Socially Acceptable Body Positivity.’

“On social media, it actually gets worse for fat bodies: We’re not just being erased from body positivity, fat women are being actively vilified. Health has become the stick with which to beat fat people with [sic], and the benchmark for whether body positivity should include someone” (Dionne).

Ah, yes. The medicalization of fat bodies, and the moralization of health. I’ve ranted about this before. Countless comments on posts of big women that say stuff like “I’m all for body positivity, but this is just unhealthy and it shouldn’t be celebrated.” I’ve heard writer/activist Aubrey Gordon once say that body positivity has become something like a shield for anti-fatness. It’s anti-fatness that has been repackaged as empowerment. It’s a striking double-standard. Fat people are told to be comfortable in their bodies (as if that’s what’s going to fix things) but in turn are punished when they’re okay with being fat. Make it make sense.

Since thin people feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces, and they get to hide behind “health” when they are picking and choosing who can and cannot be body positive, they base it off of who looks the most socially acceptable. And I’m sure they aren’t consciously picking and choosing, it comes from implicit bias. But the socially acceptable bodies they center are small to medium fat, with an hourglass shape. They have shaped a new beauty standard specifically FOR FAT PEOPLE. (Have you ever seen a plus sized model with neck fat?? I’m genuinely asking because I have yet to find one!) The bopo movement works to exclude and silence people who are on the largest end of the weight spectrum.

Speaking of exclusion, let’s talk about fashion for a minute.

For some reason, (COUGH COUGH CAPITALISM) body positivity is largely centered around fashion. And surprise surprise, it’s still not inclusive to fat people. Fashion companies get a pat on the back for expanding their sizing two sizes up from what they previously offered, when they are still leaving out larger fat people completely. In general, clothing companies charge more for clothes with more fabric, so people who need the largest sizes are left high and dry. It’s next to impossible to find affordable clothes that also look nice. Fashion piggybacks on the bopo movement as a marketing tactic, and exploits the very bodies it claims to be serving. (Need I mention the time Urban Outfitters used a "curvy” model to sell a size it doesn’t even carry?)

The movement also works to exclude and silence fat Black activists.

In her article, “The Body Positivity Movement Both Takes From and Erases Fat Black Women” Donyae Coles explains how both white people and thin celebrities such as Jameela Jamil profit from the movement that Black women built.

“Since long before blogging was a thing, fat Black women have been vocal about body acceptance, with women like Sharon Quinn and Marie Denee, or the work of Sonya Renee Taylor with The Body Is Not An Apology. We’ve been out here, and we’re still here, but the overwhelming face of the movement is white and thin because the mainstream still craves it, and white and thin people have no problem with profiting off the work of fat, non-white bodies.”

“There is a persistent belief that when thin and/or white people enter the body positive realm and begin to repeat the messages that Black women have been saying for years in some cases, when they imitate the labor that Black women have already put in that we should be thankful that they are “boosting” our message. This completely ignores the fact that in doing so they are profiting off of that labor. They are gaining the notoriety, the mark of an expert in something they learned from an ignored Black woman” (Coles).

My next essay will go into detail about this and illuminate key figures who paved the way for body acceptance in communities of color.

The true purpose of this movement has gotten completely lost. So where the fuck do we go from here?

We break up with it, and run back to the faithful ex our parents disapproved of. We go back to the roots of the fat liberation movement, carved out for us by the fat feminists, the queer fat activists, the fat Black community, and the allies it began with. Everything they have preached since the 1960s and 70s is one hundred percent applicable today. We get educated. We examine diet culture through a capitalist lens. We tackle thin, white-supremacist systems and weight based discrimination, as well as internalized bias. We challenge our healthcare workers to unlearn their bias, treat, and support fat patients accordingly. We make our homes and spaces accessible and welcoming to people of any size, or any (dis)ability. “We must first protect and uplift people in marginalized bodies, only then can we mandate self-love” (Gordon).

Think about it. In the face of discrimination, mistreatment, and emotional abuse, we as a society are telling fat people to love their bodies, when we should be putting our energy toward removing those fatphobic ideas and structures so that fat people can live in a world that doesn’t require them to feel bad about their bodies. It’s like hitting someone with a rock and telling them not to bruise!

While learning to love and care for the body that you’re in is important, I think that body positivity also fails in teaching that because it puts even more emphasis on beauty. Instead of saying, “you don’t have to be ‘beautiful’ to be loved and appreciated,” its main lesson is that “all bodies are beautiful.” We live in a society obsessed with appearance, and it is irresponsible to ignore the hierarchy of beauty standards that exist in every space. Although it should be relative, “beautiful” has been given a meaning. And that meaning is thin, abled, symmetric, and eurocentric.

Beauty and ugliness are irrelevant, made-up constructs. People will always be drawn to you no matter what, so you deserve to exist in your body without struggling to conform to an impossible and bigoted standard. Love and accept your body for YOURSELF AND NO ONE ELSE, because you do not exist to please the eyes of other people. That’s what I wish we were teaching instead. Radical self acceptance!

As of today, the ultimate message of the body positivity movement is: Love your body “despite its imperfections.” Or people with “perfect and imperfect bodies both deserve love.” As long as we are upholding the notion that there IS a perfect body that looks a certain way, and every body that falls outside of that category is imperfect, we are upholding white supremacy, eugenics, anti-fatness, and ableism.

#body positivity #bopo #body posi #body positive #body acceptance #fat acceptance #fat activism #fat liberation #anti fatness #anti blackness #anti fat bias #lookism #beauty standards #self acceptance

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ruby-whistler · 3 years ago

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a lot of people seem to have the attitude "he should've just let them had what they wanted!" when it comes to technoblade and dream both going against l'manberg, and absolutely no offense, but that seems... so awfully naive to me?

[ /dsmp /rp | the other reason why l'manberg deserved to fall ]

it looks like people automatically assume "what they wanted" was good, and that everything would've been fine if it wasn't for techno and dream being in the way. so let's look at what the leaders they fought against actually wanted, shall we?

let's start at the beginning, then.

wilbur (all names in this essay refer to the characters) made l'manberg after he failed to take control of the economy by making a capitalist empire based on lies, rumors and theft.

we're starting off strong, i see.

he referred to tommy as someone to mould or build upon multiple times, saying he is naive and calling it a good thing, even mentioning people like tubbo or fundy as the "a lot of tommyinnits" he could use take advantage of for his plans. these were people who were the most useful in terms of being hardworking and passionate, and arguably the most easily manipulated.

...cool. this still doesn't tell us what he wanted to do with l'manberg, but it gives us a sense of this guy's moral compass and honesty.

wilbur, to his soldiers at least, says that he made l'manberg for freedom and protection. ...freedom to steal from people? protection from... everyone except the guy who wants to exploit them?

yeah no, i'm not trusting anything he says.

let's turn to what wilbur said out of character about the motives with which wilbur the character created l'manberg.

"you could create something that you believe is worth having power over, and because you want to have power over it, everyone else will believe it's important, even though it's not." [ link ]

...alright, well that sorts out that question i suppose.

wilbur after his revival says that l'manberg was a "useful tool" that did what it was supposed to do; it divided. since naturally i'm not going to take his words at face value if it would kill me, let's turn back to what wilbur was actually saying and doing back when he made l'manberg, because maybe his memory has just faded, right?

*rewatching the vod* is he. is he quoting tr*mp's speech about building a wall and "making the mexicans pay for it" while being openly xenophobic towards the people who originally lived in the lands and building a giant wall?

ooo boy. cc!wilbur knew what he was doing, wasn't he?

see, if you rewatch the vods and look at them as satire on american propaganda (including the hamilton references) everything starts to fall into place.

but hey, l'manberg changed, right? it grew into something more than that initial quest for glory... right? i mean, the l'manberg government wasn't even corrupt up until schlatt's reign, right?

*laughs* no.

let's fast-forward.

l'manberg... hadn't done much after the revolution. it was just a safe space, but not really. people are living just as they did before, and neither wilbur nor l'manberg really changed much.

wilbur doesn't like that, and that is clear from what happens next.

Wilbur: “Tommy, we need power.”

Tommy: “Yeah?”

Wilbur: “I’ve tried – I spoke to Fundy and Tubbo yesterday, I told them how I didn’t like the civil war they were having, you know the fights that were going on.”

Tommy: “Yeah, that huge war in our name, yeah.”

Wilbur: “I told them I wasn’t happy with it, I told them to stop. Do you remember when you started getting angry at Dream, and I tried to control you, and you ignored me? …Yeah. See, this is the thing. Tommy, I…I led the revolution, right, but the issue is, is that I sort of became the de facto President, but no one listens to me. No one cares about mine – or your – power. No one cares! To us, we may be in anarchy, you know?”

alright, so a) wilbur dislikes anarchy, that's a good thing to remember for later, b) he's pissed off that people aren't listening to him (and tommy, but he definitely just added that on to make him care about the subject) and he can't "control" them c) he sees more power as a solution. well... maybe he just doesn't want people to fight, right? he's talking about a civil war he couldn't stop, after all.

Wilbur: “We can either, Tommy, right – we can either become a dictatorship, okay…we can just suddenly decide, ‘right, we’re in charge,’ and we just start – we start asserting our dominance. Now the key thing to being a dictator, is we need to control the center of power…so we get an army going –”

Tommy: “What is the center of power? Is it like some cube, or like an orb?”

Wilbur: “The army! The army! The banks, you know? We take control of those, and then people will do exactly as we say, right? That’s the dictatorship route, right. The other route is the democracy route. Now, this route’s gonna be slightly harder, but I have a plan. So I was thinking…what better way of making people believe that you’re in charge than by having them vote for you, right?”

so, wilbur was thinking of getting "an army going" to "control the center of power" and to "take control" of "the banks". he saw this as a valid solution to people not bending to his authority.

then he turned to election fraud instead, which he puts as straight-up manipulation of his people into believing he isn't a dictator.

...what. i'm not going to praise him for that decision, that's not even the bare minimum - he's still being a prick and showing just how much he actually doesn't care about what the "people he claims to care about" (cc!wilbur's words again) want.

but let's get back to the point; so, according to all of the current evidence, what did wilbur want?

wilbur wanted glory, power and division, to be able to enforce his authority and take control of his people.

...this is what people are saying dream shouldn't have stood up against in his land and "left them alone". that is what people are saying he should've "let wilbur have" in the home he worked to protect and build for the people he cared about - and keep in mind the dream smp was pretty much an anarchy back then.

this was willbur's intentions, and the first instinct of a lot of people was to paint dream as the tyrant. that just doesn't sit right with me, i'll be honest with you.

what about techno, then?

well, new l'manberg was ruled by tubbo, who was only doing his best - truly doing his best to turn wilbur's lies into a reality. no corruption, no conflict, only a home.

but tubbo was not ever actually in charge, was he?

let's talk about post-16th quackity.

i remember the second tubbo livestream i ever saw live was him rebuilding the crater; putting up grass blocks over the top, with quackity and fundy helping him out. it was when quackity first proposed the idea of getting rid of techno.

tubbo didn't want conflict, and he disagreed at first because it went against his ideals and his morals.

that didn't pan out well for him - and i think that's enough evidence quackity was pulling the strings of the cabinet, if you take into consideration the propaganda, riling up, and overall vengefulness that we suddenly seemed to be working with.

quackity's words didn't speak louder than his actions, but they are still interesting to note; "bring this country to power" being a common theme in his motivation for getting techno and dream "out of the way".

so quackity wanted power as well, and this desire only grew as it was taken further from his reach, but ever since the 16th, it has been very prominent in the way he instructed the new l'manberg government.

techno, the local anarchist who fought (only) oppressive governments that hurt people, was supposed to not do doomsday and "leave l'manberg alone", while what quackity wanted was nothing else than to turn l'manberg back into a tool of power and control.

i'm beginning to see a pattern here.

i am all for giving people the benefit of the doubt, really; but the constant glorification of a revolution leader who did everything for his own power and benefit, and a "secretary" that committed multiple war crimes and literally harmed and manipulated innocents in his quest for power; plus the instantaneous villainization of those who stood as obstacles in their path, is a bit too much even for this fandom's standards, even for me.

i get wilbur and quackity are both silver-tongued bastards able to shift the narrative in their favor, but the grudges people will hold against characters that fight against them and the measures to which they'll reach in order to defend them is wild.

it's not as easy as "they should've let l'manberg be". the people leading l'manberg were far from innocent and had sinister intentions.

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years ago

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A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both. The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

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lightsaberupmybutt · 4 years ago

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A Friendly Massage (2) - Luke Skywalker x FemReader

part one is here!

This imagine is over 5000, this imagine is over 5000 words, this imagine is over 5000 words. i don't know why this is so long, i just wanted to write a quick little part two and its 5000 words of tension and smut and I'm not even sorry, you did this to yourselves.

warnings: SMUT was a tiny slice of oral (male receiving ) on the side, enjoy.

Day to day life carried on as it always had after your run in with Luke the other night, however you knew something had shifted.

And he certainly felt it too. Your usual good mornings and friendly waves in passing were met with stuttered, awkward greetings and a gaping lack of eye contact. It was obvious that something had to be said to resolve the growing tension between the two of you, but you'd be damed if you were the one to address the elephant in the room. Besides, it was HIS rather large, excitable elephant that had causes the issue in the first place.

So you waited, biding your time and convincing yourself that on some level this refusal to acknowledge your lust was actually just subliminal jedi training. patience is important right? that seemed to be something Yoda would approve of? abstinence? Although he probably wouldn't be proud of your solo late night escapades that were fuelled by fantasies of what the Blonde Jedi would have done to you if he had just had a smidge more confidence; how he would have looked underneath you while you rode him, unraveling with your every bounce, lips parted whispering your name repeatedly like its the only word he had ever been taught. You wondered if he even liked being ridden, or was he the more dominant of the two of you ? you doubted it, as much as he showed great strength and leadership in the training hall, Skywalker didn't give off the sexual prowess of someone who was largely well experienced, it made sense that he wouldn't be left with much time for bedding girls around you know, saving the whole entire planet from his own fathers borderline demonic regime.

Truly, though, you had never felt like he wouldn't know what he was doing. Especially after that massage he had given you, even if it was a tad brief. Like knew how to use his hands, even if one of them was mechanical. You found yourself wondering if he used them differently, if he happened to have more dexterity in one set of fingers than the other, how that would feel if those fingers where being put to use inside of your tight -

“Y/N? have you been listening to a word I've just said”

Youre whipped out of your thoughts by an all too familiar voice as you vainly attempt to stop your cheeks from turning pink in front of your fellow Padwan’s. You stumble to find you words while simultaneously praying Luke hasn't decided to use his weird mind reading ability in the last 10 minutes of your brain wander or so.

“Sorry sir” is all you can offer, as you truly have not the faintest of ideas of what he was just talking about. You don't miss the way luke stiffens when you use the term of authority toward him, a trick you normally would not exploit however unluckily for him, he caught you completely of guard. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before he returns to pacing,

“You can all return to your activities” He dismisses you all, and you scurry to the door with the others before he adds,

“not you, Y\N”

ah shit.

He waits until everyone has exited and the door has shut behind then before he turns to you,

“Whats up with you lately?” his teaching voice is gone, he's back to exasperated friend luke,

You chortle on a gasp of air as you shoot him an accusatory look, taking a few steps closer to him with your finger outstretched like a weapon,

“whats up with ‘me’?” you mock, showing your finger towards yourself, before dramatically turning it back on him, moving even closer.

“What the fuck is up with you Luke? your the one who's being weird with me, don't pull some uno reverse card on the last few days”

You can see the lost puppy dog look in his eyes, as he tries to scramble together some sort of reply,

“and don't fucking lie to me” you add, closing the space between you so that you're now jabbing him in the chest with your pointer finger.

“i er, .. i don't know what you're talking about Y/N” god, even the way he says your name is hot, you feel feat rising again in areas it shouldn't but you push it away, your pride not wanting him to get the best of you even if your body would quite happily will it.

“Liar” you spit at him with such venom it surprises even yourself, accompanied with another jab to the chest, this one maybe a little harder than the ones before.

“ouch” he mumbles, trapping the accusing finger in one palm and rubbing his chest with the other, the dramatics causing you to roll your eyes.

“Hey, don't do that!” he fires back, you can tell he's trying to sound stern but its not really all to effect when he's still rubbing out the pain from your finger jab.

“do what?”

“roll your eyes at me! I'm your senior” he puffs his chest, but his eyes still are full of surprise at your sudden outburst.

“really? are you now luke?” you push him, his hand still wrapped around yours, sending sparks through you arm.

“yes, i am” His voice is breathy, his breath splaying down onto your face as he speaks. You suddenly realise just how close you have managed to get to him, previously too lost in the moment. Your body is all but pressed against his, head tilted down ever so slightly so that he can be on the same eye level as you. There isn't much difference in your height, but right now he feels like he's towering over you.

Its rare that you see this side of Luke, normally so soft and docile towards you. The tension of this argument and sheer stress that has been building inside of him since your incident is starting to bubble over the surface as he's trapped so close to you now. You can tell he's surveying you, begging you to make the next move though fear he will say something he might regret.

But maybe that is what you want from him, after all the last happy accident between the two of you has been the image you have gotten off to for the last four nights.

“prove it then”

“prove what?” Luke looks confused, suddenly drawing back a little like he'd completely lost the trail of your conversation, head tilted to the side like a bewildered golden retriever,

“prove that you're my senior” you whisper back, almost not wanting him to hear it. You can tell by the way his light sapphire eyes gaze over he does though, as he watches you pull away and leave the training room, door slamming behind you.

You slip past two bodies as you rush back to your dorm, your confidence leaking and the implications of what you just challenged beginning to set in. Hans and Leia both follow their gaze after you, the two having witnessed the end portion of yours and Lukes confirmation through the viewing window while waiting for the princess’s twin to finish for lunch. Leia turned to Hans, eyes narrowed,

“you don't think they might actually….” she trails off,

“bang? oh definitely” Hans answers, still looking at the shaken remnants of Luke Skywalker, who liked like he may have lost all brain function capacity.

It had been ten hours and forty five minutes since you'd left look in your dust in the training room, not that anyone was counting. And you had concluded two facts while on your bed in that time;

Luke clearly didn't feel the same way you felt for him; you had left him with basically an invitation to come and take you and he was a no show.

to avoid facing the death by embarrassment you would inevitably suffer you will be spending the remainder of your sorry life inside the confines of this very dorm. it seemed the adult thing to do.

You muffled a yawn, the sun had long past retired, and from your place on your bed you could just make out the two moons and multiple consolations now decorating the dark blue night.

Lifting your arms above you head in a stretch, you caught a whiff of sweat and instantly sighed; as much as you had been willing to enjoy never moving from you bed until either starvation or dehydration took you out of your misery, you did happen to stink like garbage.

You scuffled off the bed and out of your cloak and training pants, that had been left on from hours ago, making a mental note that at least you'd wouldn't have to worry about washing them if you never saw look again. You shimmied out of you knickers and unhooked your bra, throwing them onto the floor to join the rest of your discarded outfit before wandering over to your bathroom and turning on the shower, untangling your hair the best you can while the water warms.

When you finally stepped under the water you let out a hiss at the feeling of the heat against your skin, basking in the feeling of droplets on your now bare body. You let your hand roam, starting at your chest and finding a path down past your belly button and hips, your skin trembling as your hand drifted over the area between your thighs.

You let out another hiss, your fingers finding their way between your folds, teasing yourself. You enjoyed the tension loss for all but a moment before flashes of luke pressed against you in the training room earlier flew back into your brain; how hot his skin had been against yours and how his scent had been so strong in his sweat after the hours of sparring multiple Padawan’s. You moaned, half in frustration with yourself for ruining your moment and the other half in want.

He's even spoiling your shower time now, what a dick.

You snatched your soap bar from the shelf and scrubbed viciously, not allowing yourself the enjoyment of a relaxing shower due to your own self betrayal. You ran some through your locks, cursing whichever part of your brain was telling the rest that this would feel a million times better if it was the Jedis hands in place of your own.

Once you had finished mentally punishing yourself, you turned off the water and stood there for a minute contemplating the likelyhood of a bang to the head removing your memory of todays events.

After all, it would be so simple, a little slip in the shower and poof! Sure, Luke would remember it all, but would he really have the guts to say anything to you about it? surely he wouldn't want to risk your recovery from a very accidental definitely not self inflicted head injury now would he? However, if your preexisting luck was anything to go off, you'd probably forget everything but the sexual tension you had for your master.

Cowardly, you stepped out safely, making sure not to fall, and wrap yourself in a soft towel, leaving your hair to drip down onto your shoulders. You step out of your bathroom, not noticing the shadow that had formed in the corner of your room until they cleared their throat, causing you to just back in sheer terror, going over on your ankle and nearly dropping your towel all together.

“Sorry i er..”

“Luke? what the Fuck are you doing” You gasp out, staring blindly into the darkness as the shape shuffles on their feet awkwardly,

Luke moves closer, the small amount of light left from outside casting across his soft face and mop of hair.

“I didn't mean to scare you” is all he can offer,

“And what part of you hiding in my room while i showered would not come across as scary?” You shot back, more dazed than angry. You knew what him being here meant, but him hiding in the most light depraved corner of your room while you tried not to masturbate to images in your head of him in your shower was never part of the fantasy.

“i didn't realise you'd be showering this late” He replied, as if that answered the question as to why he was hiding in your room so late at night at all.

You strained your eyes trying to peer at him, and he seemed to notice, taking another few steps forward into the moonlight. Maker did he look good, under the stars his skin glowed and his hair caught copper and silver highlights that made your knees weak. His soft features were taunt and there was mischief in his eyes, a familiar sight but in the situation at present it made heat grow in your lower stomach.

Something told you he could see it in your face too, whatever he was looking for, because he kept on moving in on you, like a predator after their pray, You weren't used to seeing Luke all wound up like this, the only other time being the last time he was in your room, but the situation was different this time. There was an open air of lust and anticipation flowing around the two of you, you could only compare it to what the force had felt like the few times you'd managed to master it. It was like something spiritual was drawing you two closer, your body was working on autopilot, moving without your conscious command. He had closed the gap between you by now, but he didn't make a move to touch you or even say any more than he already had, simply staring down at you. When you realised he really wasn't going to be the one to break the silence, you stepped up to the mark for him,

“Why are you here Luke” It wasn't really a question, you knew what you had said to him earlier, the words that you had been replaying over and over in your head ever since.

“Because..” He trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way of wording his thoughts, you took this as a chance to push him a little further, no matter how nervous you both were right now, you knew him well enough over the last year to learn how to fire him up, and right now a pent up Luke was exactly what you wanted. You knew you were playing with fire, but you doubted if he did react, it would be in a way you wouldn't enjoy. Quite frankly, the boy could pick you up and throw you out of your own bedroom window right now and you'd still probably be horny enough to find some form of sexual gratification from the experience

You saw his brow raise and his eyes flash before you heard his word,

“To show you what i want from you, Padawan” He smirked around the term, causing you to let out a small, nervous laugh.

“And what is it that you want from me, Master?” You hardly finish the word before his arms have snaked around your back and you're being lifted from the ground, letting out a squeal of surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist for support. He plopped you down on the bed, still situated between your legs, pulling a hand out on either side of your shoulders so that he could stare down at you.

“Thats not an answer luke” you quipped back, quite impressed at your ability to still functionally produce coherent words. He leaned down, his lips on your ear,

“oh, i think it is, Y/N” he breathed, letting out a boyish laugh before he could stop himself, almost giving you the chance to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but as his lips touch the skin below your ear and start to plant wet hungry kisses there, the words dissolve into a soft moan.

His head shoots up and you see the look of concern in his eyes, confirming that maybe Luke isn't the most sexually experienced person on this planet. The sweetness in his reaction makes you weak, but you have lost the ability to reply with words, so you communicate through grabbing either side of his soft face and planting a hungry kiss on his lips.

For a moment you catch him off guard, frozen under you lips, and you worry that maybe you have somehow misread this situation entirely. Maybe he was just fooling around with you, maybe he wants serious?

But all that concern is dissipated by his lips finding rhythm against yours, equally as passionately. Okay, so maybe he isn't the best at reading you tell tale lust signs, but oh maker can he kiss. The movement of his lips alone is enough to cause severer wetness to pool between your thighs, your spin raising off the bed as far as it can to push your body against his clothed one. You're amazed your towel has lasted this long, especially after the near miss before, but now you find yourself wishing it hadn’t. Conscious of Luke being as respectful as it is, you also know that if you wait for him to remove it you may have melted away before he sees you; so you move a hand from his face to the tie at the top of your chest and pull it open, the towel cascading around you and leaving your front bare.

You had a feeling that Luke was a little too caught up in the moment to realise, so you gently slid you hand around one of his, waiting until he shifted his weight onto his other arm before you lowered it to you chest, letting it cup your breast. Lukes eyes shot open as he let out a gasp, lips opening just enough for you to tease your tongue against his bottom lip. His hand moved instinctively to squeeze, his thumb brushing gently over your already erect nipple. You shivered and moaned in response, but this time Luke knew this meant he was doing something right, so he repeated his actions.

You had to give it to him, he was a fast learner.

Your hand moved in an attempt to untie his cloak, but the action was proving difficult while Lukes mouth was on yours and his hand roaming your body, causing you to become inpatient.

“Take it off” You managed to get out between kisses,

You expected him to challenge your direct order, but he merely sat up and untied the cloak, slipping it from himself and removing his undershirt too. You watched as the moonlight danced upon his skin, his toned chest, years of Jedi training had certainly served his body well. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Luke topless, but it was the first time you hadn't had to hide the fact that you were really looking. Realising how long you had been staring you met his eyes again, half expected to see him smirking down at you, but he was just as lost in your body as you were his;

“You - You're Beautiful” He stumbled under his breath, you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it, but it made your cheeks burn either way. Before he could say anything else, you lifted your back up from the bed and pushed your body flush against his, planting kisses on his neck, eliciting a moan from the Jedi in response. You left little purple marks peppered in the wake of you lips, something you knew he may not be too pleased about in the morning, but you figured you might as well get away with as much claiming of him you could in the heat of the moment. He quivered underneath you, from this angle you could feel his ever-growing, now comically familiar, budge, his body naturally thrusting into yours, causing a beautiful friction against your heat. Luke was lost in the pleasure, and has seemingly temporarily forgotten he had hands, so you grabbed ahold of on and pushed it down to the bottom of your stomach, lifting your core from his so he could access it. Luke met your eyes again, this time you could tell him was clueless, his cheeks glowing a deep scarlet.

“I erm” You didn't let him finish, you'd figured Luke was a little inexperienced but not to this level. The massive reverse in roles made you feel a little powerful; suddenly you were the experienced one and he was your understudy. Maybe he should be calling you master? You made a mental note to remember that fact for tomorrow when the joke might go down better than in the middle of sex,

“Just rub around here” you told him, while guiding his hand to your bundle of nerves, making sure to show him the correct pressure you wanted, and then your lips were back on his.

Luke was slow at first, and it took him a while to actually bring his fingertips between your folds, however once he did he seemed to find the exact spot you wanted him in. Whether it the pressure of his cool finger tips or the fact that he had been unintentionally teasing the area so long, you released a borderline animalistic high pitched moan, lurching forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt him chuckle against your neck, repeating his action and causing you to squeal again,

“well then” He murmured into your ear, a cheeky air to his voice, causing you to groan knowingly - you'd certainly be mocked for that vicious reaction afterwards.

You wanted to smack the smirk from his lips, but instead you lowered one of you hands between your bodies, resting it on Lukes now fully erect but concealed member. He paused momentarily, before letting out his own moan as you started to palm him through his loose trousers. There was dampness under your hand, a mix of your slick heat and his own leaking member, but it only spurred you on more.

Lukes actions had become increasingly sloppy, his hand slipping lower and lower until one of his digits unintentionally bumped against your opening, causing you to jump in his arm and whine against his ear. Luke took this as a sign to dip the tip of the finger into you, testing to make sure this wasn't the wrong move, when you hum in response he slips the rest in up to his knuckle. The action makes you tremble, and you're panting and whispering jibberish into his ear. He removes the finger and then puts in back in slowly, still unsure. Its torture, literal torture. You start moving your lower body against his hand, riding it. You're not sure what makes him do it, maybe just a reflex, but luke bends his finger ever so slightly just at the right point of entrance and hits your inner sweet spot, causing your tummy to do a flip and move wetness to peek from your core. His other hand finds your clit again, without you having to instruct him this time, and the mix of both actions causes your eyes to roll back into your head and you to let out a quieter but still prominent squeal. Luke laughs again,

“Calm down little one” He teases, confidence dripping from his ever word.

Maybe its the temptation to remove his smugness again, or maybe you're just turned on so much by this cocky side of Skywalker you've previously not seen enough of, but you instantly reach your hand under his waistband and inside his boxers, finding his length and stroking it directly with your hand.

He instantly spasms under you, almost bucking you off him, and you thank god you're near enough to your headboard to catch yourself before he does.

“sorry” he mumbles, steadying you with one hand, his other still inside your heat.

“Shhh, its okay” you reassure him, before gently removing his hand from your heat and pushing him back a bit, causing him to look at you with confusion.

“I just want to see it properly” You tell him, working on his waistband again.

“You already have” he groans, clearly getting some secondhand embarrassment from his previous accidental boner experience, but lowering his pants and boxers none the less, his manhood springing out.

he hisses slightly as it meets the cool air of the room, his head rolling back ever so slightly - and you don't think you've ever seen a sight so sinful and glorious in your life.

You lower your head down towards it but he catches your forehead against his palm before you can meet your goal,

“erm? excuse me”

“youre excused ?” you reply, looking up at him from your position almost at his manhood,

“what are you doing?”

“Oh luke i think you know fine well” You dip your tongue out between your lips, and it just reaches the very tip of his head, catching a little of what he's leaked there. Luke lets out a throaty moan in response, and you take advantage of his distraction, moving out from under his hand and licking his full length, from the base to the very tip. The sounds Luke makes in response are enough to almost make you tip over your own edge, but you try to suppress your own want long enough to put him all in your mouth and do a slow bob. He bucks into your mouth, unintentionally hitting the back of your throat and causing you to almost gag, the process causing him to mutter profanities that you never thought you would hear from the golden boy of the rebellion.

You only get in a few slow bobs before his hand returns to your head, but this time he doesn't push you away, so you continue to move your mouth around his length which his fingers get lost in your hair. You cant fit all of him in your mouth comfortably, and your mind starts to wonder to what is inevitably the next step, your heat reminding you of just how much you want him down there, fucking you senseless into your own bed while the rest of the ship sleeps (hopefully) unaware of your actions.

Suddenly Luke is tugging your hair, pulling you up from him so that he slips out of your mouth with an audible plop. You take a chance to actually look at him, surprised at just how unravelled he looks, sweat causing his locks to stick to his forehead in erratic patterns, his eyes the darkest shade of blue you've ever seen.

“whats wrong?” You ask him, your voice a little more course than you expected,

“ Im going to come” He tells you truthfully, embarrassment visible on his face. You want to giggle at his innocent response, but you also don't want him to feel even worse than he clearly does, so you suppress it and keep your eyes on his,

“Well come then “ you answer obliviously, still not truly understanding the route of his embarrassment. Sure, this wasn't exactly the worlds longest performance, but you'd seen much worse from people with much more experience - and at least Luke had actually managed to get you wet.

I want to but “ He stopped, turning away in frustration and drifting off at the very last minute, you waited for him to finish, reaching for his hand and rubbing your thumb against it, attempting to reassure him enough to let you continue.

“I want to fuck you” The way he says the words, like he knows he shouldn’t, makes it the most sinful line you've ever heard from anyone. You feel like he's just hit you with a sledgehammer, your core pulsing in response.

He still wont look at you, so you simply lean back into your bed, opening your legs, all prior shyness being pushed to the back of your mind by the raging lust that his words had fuelled.

“Fuck me then” You instruct him, and oh boy, he does.

head whipping around, Luke crawls back over you, eyes burning holes into yours as he meets your face, you bend your knees and grab his member with your hand, making sure to run it along your slit, gathering your wetness in its wake, before placing the tip at its rightful home, against your opening. Luke looks like he might burst, but you place a gentle kiss on his lips before guiding your body up to meet him, his tip entering you and stretching you out. You gasp at the feeling, Luke taking this as his cue to slow insert the rest of himself, filling you fully and causing you to clench around him on impact. Both of you are moaning now, maybe a little louder than appropriate for such a communal ship, but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care at this moment in time.

Luke was big, for sure. You remembered back to just before and internally cursed yourself for not making sure he used more than one finger one you; you were definitely no virgin but it had been a while since you'd been with anyone, and nobody had ever come near the size you were dealing with now. As luke started moving, the sensation of slight discomfort faded, and you were being overrides with a new force. You could feel every inch of him inside you, and partnered with his breathy moans of your name and his increasingly wild expressions, you could feel the coil of lust inside you beginning to build again. Maker, this was so good - surely things this good shouldn't be allowed for sinners like you.

Lukes movements got sloppy all to fast, you could tell he was fighting his high as long as possible

You were overpowered with the need to give him release, slipping one hand into his hair and the other to his cheek,

“Come for me, master” Your words caused his eyes to flash open, and his whole body to convulse, he didn't take much telling; you felt warmth leak into you as Luke let out a final throaty moan and his head flopped into your chest.

You lay there for a while, stroking the stray locks of hair from his face as both your breathing returned to a somewhat normal level, him still inside you as you started to leak out over the covers. You'd probably be bothered about that tomorrow, like the clothes unwashed on the floor and the sound complaints from the people either side of your dorm. But for now, nothing could bother you.

As you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Luke felt for the first time in years that nothing outside of this ship was worth any of his mind, he had all he needed here in this bed with you.

#luke skywalker #Luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker smut #Star Wars #Star Wars imagine #Star Wars preference #Star Wars headcannon #the mandolarian

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ascalonianpicnic · 3 years ago

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so the twisted marionette is back and it seems like a good time for this~ @mystery-salad requested I do an essay on Scarlet and discrimination in STEM so~

Warning: discussions of sexism, racism, and ableism. If I got anything wrong (in terms of real world issues) or was disrespectful in any way about certain subjects please let me know

Hey, let's talk about Scarlet Briar.

More specifically, I wanna talk about Ceara, and how she became Scarlet Briar. Because I'm a gay mathematician and former computer science major, and I think Scarlet is cool.

So let's start here. STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) is a heavily male dominated set of fields and career paths. A few decades back in the real world, there was this deep set societal belief, at least in western society, that cis women were just "worse" at STEM related things like math and chemistry. It's not as visible of an issue now, but, like I said, STEM fields are still really male dominated, and that's because STEM fields still have a massive issue with sexism. Women have full on left the field due to the sexism they faced in workplaces in just the last decade. Trans women in STEM share really interesting and important personal accounts about how before transitioning, they were treated with respect, offered high level jobs, and entrusted with loads of responsibility, and how post transition, despite having even more experience, are offered significantly lower level jobs, worse pay, and are all around treated like they know less. STEM has a sexism problem.

So, why is this important to Scarlet? Well, her backstory and her life before Omadd's Machine actually tie in to this real world issue in a really fascinating way. It's about Respect. And Scarlet's story is about how she was denied respect over and over, because she was a sylvari, because she was a woman, and because she was neurodivergent. Let's talk about Ceara.

Ceara was a sylvari secondborn, and an engineer from the start. She emerged from the Pale Tree when her race was still brand new to the world and largely unknown. She spent 8 years of her life studying all the Grove had to offer her about mechanics and nature and the universe. She was born curious and as such, was determined to learn everything and anything she could get her hands on. After her time in the Grove, Ceara left, off to find new teachers and extend her knowledge further. After the Grove cane Beigarth, a famed norn smith. He gladly took Ceara under his wing, seeing her genius and potential. For a year, she trained under him, his best student. Then, much to his dismay, she left, feeling she had learned all he could offer about what she wanted to know. She moved south, going to study under iron legion gladium and demolitionist Asagai. Asagai was an old charr, and it took some convincing on Ceara's end, but she eventually took the sylvari in and taught her about gunsmithing and artillery. And after two years, Ceara moved on again, this time heading for Rata Sum and its colleges.

The asura of Rata Sum did Not like Ceara. She had to fight to be allowed to study at the colleges. She won in the end, being admitted into the college of Dynamics. Within a year, she finished the course work, and, feeling like she was finally getting somewhere, she applied again, this time getting admitted to Statics. Two years and two colleges down, at the top of her class both times, Scarlet still wanted more. The Arcane council was curious now if she could keep this streak up, so they let her enter Synergetics. This was what she had been looking for, and she got deep into her studies, taking her time. The Arcane council was unimpressed with her work at best. While not driven from the colleges, she found herself being walked off and looked down on more and more, so she sought other sources. These other sources, both of knowledge and support, came from the inquest, and it wasn't long before she fell in deep. It didn't last, however. When the krewe she was working with ran into trouble, she was abandoned as a scapegoat, and thrown out of the asuran colleges. She wandered on her own for a while, taking the time to study alchemy with the michotl hylek, but mostly keeping to herself. Until Omadd found her, pulled her back into his personal research, and, with her help, built Omadd's machine. Once it was finished, Ceara walked in, and Scarlet walked out.

Sexism in STEM means that people perceived as female are often perceived as knowing or understanding less than they actually do. It's because of this that you'll find young cis male students in STEM classes trying to correct or speak over their female presenting professors. It's why you'll find men at science conferences telling the women presenting for certain topics that they don't seem to understand the topic they're covering or grasp the basics that well, and then recommending or referencing books and research papers written by these women. It means that women will often be overlooked for internships, research positions, and grants. And that is the sort of thing Scarlet faced as a young woman trying to learn everything she could. She had to work for the apprenticeships she could get, and with Beigarth, despite how highly he thought of her, she had to work harder to prove she was ready for more each step of the way. Finding anyone to teach her at all among the charr was a struggle, until an older woman took her in. And no one in Rata Sum took her seriously.

There was more than just the fact that Scarlet was a woman at play with Rata Sum though. As stated, STEM has a bad sexism problem. But that's not all. STEM isn't just mostly men, but also mostly white men, and as such, the fields have a bit of a racism problem as well. Personally, I can only speak so much to this as I myself am white, have never faced racism, and never will face racism. I do know that the intelligence, skill, and effort of people of color goes largely unacknowledged. They will be denied the same opportunities and respect that their white peers receive, and their work and contributions will be ignored, exploited, and stolen.

Racism in Tyria isn't the same as it is in the real world, though it is still present there, and prevalent. And it is something Scarlet has to face and struggle with repeatedly as a sylvari. The sylvari are young and new to Tyria. Because of this, the other prominent groups all tend to think of sylvari as innocent, ignorant, and overly naive. The asura are especially bad about this. They already think of themselves as the smartest of Tyria's inhabitants, above everyone else. And when they first encounter the sylvari, the asura refuse to believe this new group could even be sentient. So, when 11 year old Ceara shows up at the colleges, the Arcane Council and the asura in general doubt she could possibly understand asuran studies. She's a sylvari, after all, and just a girl on top of that. There's surely no way she could keep up.

So when this young sylvari girl finishes at the top of her class in just a year, not once but twice, the Arcane council is intrigued. They don't respect her. They don't hold her work in high esteem. But they do want to know if this is some sort of fluke or if she can do it again. So she's admitted into the third and final college, and when she gets caught up in her studies, genuinely interested and invested in what she's learning and wanting to take her time to take it all in, the Council is disappointed. Never mind that Scarlet has already done what no other non-asura has. She took too long doing what she loved, learning, so the Council dismisses her, and dismisses her hard work. Her theories are looked down upon and ignored, and she is left with only support from Omadd, who can use her and her theories for his own gain, and the inquest. Omadd and the inquest make her feel valued and respected. The inquest let's her try anything she wants, it lets her really explore the fields of study she's most drawn to. The inquest makes sure to profit off her hard work and, when it comes down to it, the inquest leaves her to take the fall for everything. It's easy, after all, to pin the blame on someone already so looked down on by the society she's in. Scarlet is kicked out of the colleges and the city. She loses her access to information, her belongings, and even her own research and findings. All her hard work, taken from her because the inquest was more than glad to use a sylvari.

And then of course, there's Omadd. He was glad to have Scarlet as a lab assistant, and endlessly fascinated by and supportive of her work. So once she's gone from Rata Sum, he leaves too, taking her research and starting on his own personal project. He gets stuck, he seeks Scarlet out, and he convinces her to help him again. Once Scarlet is back on board, the project goes smoothly and the two construct Omadd's Machine. Omadd's. Despite being built off Scarlet's theories and research, despite her being integral to the construction of this machine, it's Omadd's and it carries his name. Funny how that happens, isn't it? And once the machine is up and running, he thinks Scarlet should test it first. Who knows what could happen in there, better to leave it up to the assistant to try it out, and frame it as her getting the honor of the first try. As we all know, it goes poorly. Scarlet learns so much more, all the knowledge she had been seeking for over a decade, but in return, the seeds of Mordremoth are planted in her mind and slowly take over, destroying her.

Now Scarlet, who has been used and devalued and disrespected and infantilized every step of the way, her whole life, is going to start tearing down the things that held her back for so long. She just needs a plan, and with the help of a certain sleeping dragon, one begins to form.

There's something I glossed over earlier that is so important to note, and that's how Scarlet was treated in the Grove. Now, it's been stated explicitly by Scott McGough, a narrative designer for the fame, that Scarlet emerged with lacking empathy. Low empathy doesn't make Scarlet, or anyone, a bad person. It's sometimes a symptom of autism, as well as some personality disorders, and it does affect how Scarlet is treated. As an autistic person myself, Scarlet very much reads as autistic to me, between low empathy, a one track mind, and an intense special interest in the universe and its mechanics. She has a hard time connecting with others, is easily bored by subjects that don't relate back to her special interest, can focus intently on and get caught up in her work, and doesn't really get social graces or expectations. Regardless of any diagnosis she would have if she existed in our world, Scarlet is treated differently due to her low empathy, a trait she cannot help about herself.

From the moment she emerges in the Grove, she is treated differently. She is talked down to. Her desire to take in her first sights and how it overwhelms her is dismissed as overconfidence and rudeness. Her own brother, barely older than her, talks like he knows so much more than her. Scarlet is an outsider among her own people. How does it feel to have low empathy among a race connected to each other deeply through empathy? Probably not great. Her studies in the Grove are limited, she is treated as rude and prideful for wanting to be independent and needing space. Rather than being accommodated, rather than being understood, Scarlet is infantilized, dismissed, and disregarded. She isn't neurotypical. She was born different. She's punished for it.

When she emerges from Omadd's Machine, made from her own hard work and creativity, Scarlet Briar is a young woman who has frequently been overlooked and rarely understood. All these thoughts and ideas, all this passion, and the only people who have ever even seemed to understand her have used and betrayed her so thoroughly. Scarlet Briar has always had to look out for and take care of herself, as a woman, as a sylvari, as someone who is neurodivergent and is in a field that doesn't respect a single aspect of her identity. The world won't accommodate her and the world won't take her seriously. So why shouldn't she show the world what she can do? Why not force everyone to recognize her for who she is? Why not give in just a little to that voice that has been calling to her in her nightmares since she left the machine? After all, it promises power and recognition and a sense of belonging.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #scarlet briar #my essays #anyway uvu

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exuberantocean · 3 years ago

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What DS9 Coulda/Shoulda Done Better

I love me some DS9. In my humble opinion, it’s the best of Star Trek (though TNG has a special place in my heart as my first Star Trek). I believe it not only had some of the strongest episodes, storylines, and characters, but it also took on social and political issues in a riveting way.

That said, just like any other show, DS9 had things it could have done better. I’m sure others could add to the list but here’s the issues that come to mind the most:

1. Keiko O’Brien - First of all, I cannot buy that an experienced expert botanist can’t find work stationed near a planet under ecological crisis after generations of exploitation and next to a wormhole that leads to a previously unexplored section of the universe. The woman should have her choice of work! If she wanted to stay on station, there’d be plenty of work coming to her. If she wanted to go off station, she’d have her choice of projects.

But let’s say you, the writer, really want/need her to be a teacher which, I’m not sure why but okay. At least mention some background that could justify that. “Miles, I was thinking. I know I have a job offer from x, y, and z but I’ve still got that duel degree in education and I think I’d like to explore that a little and start a school.” Because you need a full ass degree to be a teacher you can’t just randomly decide to do it without a degree.

Finally, they started the show with Keiko made at Miles for taking the DS9 job which, well, they should have establish a bit better. I think the “I have nothing to do” bit was so unbelievable that most people just didn’t believe Keiko when they watched it. They established her early as “Miles’ annoying wife” and gave her little beyond that, which really cheapens all the times she very rightfully called her husband out on his very ugly racism (speciesism?).

2. Gender and sexual orientation - Okay, I’m going to start out saying that this was the 90s. It was a big deal that they even had a gay kiss at all. So I one hand I feel that asking for everything on my “just about everyone at DS9 is queer” list is unreasonable, I still think they should have done more. For instance, while I totally feel Bashir/Garak should have been an explicit thing, I don’t think they could have in the 90s (though boy I wish they could!) That said, intentionally separating them because someone among the higher ups is an bigoted ass shouldn’t have happened. Dax, being half worm, is someone they could have possibly gotten away with as more intentionally pansexual (thought hey kinda did in one episode and then never mentioned it again). They could have also explored symbionts, their hosts, and gender identity better.

But the real missed opportunity in here is Odo. He’s far away enough from human (not even being humanoid) that he could be have and should have been from a genderless species and that should have been made explicit (it would have also automatically made Kira/Odo a queer pairing, if they went down that path.) They could have also stuck to the idea of Odo being asexual. I’m not sure they every actually made him allosexual but once again, even if they went with Kira/Odo, a few lines could have made it clear that though he loved Kira, he wasn’t inherently a sexual being. Obviously a human ace or nonbinary human would probably be better, but this was the 90s and Odo was the best vehicle for pushing those boundaries that they had.

#star trek #ds9

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poliel · 3 years ago

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Surprise Egg: 8/13: Eggabell

Unsurprisingly striding back into town with Eggabell caused a commotion. Not even five minutes passed between her walking into town and everyone gathering to speak to her. There were many questions about Lizbert and what had happened to her all of which Eggabell deftly avoided and then quickly stopped via stating her reason for returning being to examine the egg more properly.

Apparently, it was Gramble’s turn to pouch it. He happily rushed over to give it to her. Buddy turned to leave. Since they were still stuck here they might as well go hunting for everyone and search more for the Snaxsquatch too while they were out. Before they could even pick which direction to head out in though…

“Hey Buddy,” Filbo said as he came up next to them, linking an arm through theirs. “It’s been a little while since we spent an evening together, you want to hang out?”

“You just want me to stick around so Eggebell can examine me before going back to Frosted Peak, right?”

“Huh? No. She only said she’d do that if you let her. I just want to hang out because it’s been a little while and I’ve missed you.” His faux innocence was cute and honestly would’ve been convincing if they didn’t know better due to the fact they’d just spent almost the whole day together climbing the mountain then coming back down. Not to mention this was the same tactic he often tried to pull when he wanted them to take another break once outright asking had started to fail. And like every other time he would either drop it with a sad sigh if Buddy persisted or would push the issue until one of them gave up.

Buddy sighed. “Fine.” The attempt at opening the stone doors failing meant that they had stuff they needed to catch up on in their journal anyway. … And they were tired. No amount of rest really made them less tired so there was no point in it a lot of the time but if it made Filbo happy then they’d put up with it. And they liked spending time with him too so why not?

“The egg’s underdeveloped,” Eggabell said as she poked her head into the hut after not evening bothering to knock before opening the door. “I don’t have the tools to determine anything more than that but I don’t think it’s fatally so, no thanks to a certain someone trying to give themself hypothermia and frostbite while carrying it.” She gave Buddy a pointed glare which was undeservedbecause they hadn’t known and hadn’t been trying to give themself anything of the sort. “The grumpling’s going to hatch small and probably weak too but with proper care I think they should be all right. But you guys aren’t in charge of it so that’s really all you probably want to know, right?”

“Yeah, thanks for telling us. Now uh….” Filbo trailed off.

“You want me to do Buddy?” She looked at them again. She’d already made it clear on multiple occasions that she was concerned about them but, like with her previous attempts to get them to do or not do something, if they refused she’d probably go back to looking for Lizbert without much of a fight. But…

“Fine.” With a sigh, Buddy flipped their doodling journal closed and extricated themself from the bed and cuddling into Filbo’s side. “But make it quick.”

“I intend to.”

Doctor visits and examinations were always the worst with the ice-cold stethoscope and all the prodding and the poking. Not to mention the invasive questions and ‘how would you rate your pain/discomfort?’s. There were two bright sides here though; she didn’t poke them with any needles and she had a salve to put over their various burns, making those spots at least feel better almost instantly – if they’d known such a thing was in her medical bag, they’d have stolen it long ago as they’d be doing from here on out.

“You’re malnourished and not recovered from giving birth in such a state,” she declared after what felt like forever.

They hopped off her makeshift examine table set up in the front part of her and Lizbert’s hut. “Shocking. I never would’ve guessed.”

She frowned at them. “I don’t know what your hang up is about not eating bugsnax but I suggest you let it go for the sake of your health.”

They’d have gladly given up their initial hang ups with it if they could. “I can’t. I’m allergic.”

“Oh! Uh… that’s really bad. How allergic are you exactly? If it’s just a mild rash or something it might be worth it to just suffer through it at this point.”

True and if that was the case they’d have done so long before now but… “I ate one and then spent the next few hours in outhouse.”

“Oh hmmm… definitely don’t then because in your state you could easily die from that.”

Buddy had not even considered that. All the more reason not to partake because that was not how they were going to die if they could help it.

Eggabell sighed before continuing. “You should probably go home then. Bring Gramble and Shelda with you too if you can. I know Gramble’s not going to want to go and probably neither is Shelda but…”

“No. I’m not leaving until I’ve interviewed Lizbert or we find solid proof she’s dead.” That made Eggabell flinch but Buddy didn’t care enough to apologize. “So not until we open the stone doors.” They’d find Lizbert, her remains, or no sign of her which would likely mean her body was buried in snow somewhere on the mountain.

With that said, Buddy turned to go. If they got out fast enough, they might even be able to leave town without Filbo noticing and trying to guilt trip them into resting for the rest of the day. Before they could do much more than open the door though…

“You know, you’re a lot like Liz.”

Pausing with their paw still on the doorknob, Buddy looked back her. “What do you mean?”

“Stubborn and passionate with a high tolerance for pain and discomfort but most of all stupid. You don’t ever pause to think about how being reckless and hurting yourself affects the people who care about you. Except you’re even worse about it than Liz ever was. Your body’s going to quit on you if you keep this up for much longer. You could die.” She’d started speaking in a calm tone but ended making exasperated gesture towards them.

“Well then, all the more reason to get those doors open as soon as possible.” Because they weren’tleaving until their story was done, they could hold on for that long at least. Speaking of opening the doors though… “You should ask Triffany for help with the stone door puzzle. She’s good at that kind of stuff.” They’d suggested going to her for help to Eggabell once before and got a vehement ‘no’ but the situation was a bit different now so…

Eggabell glared at them, doubtless mad about the change of subject but ultimately sighed – no matter what, she still cared most about finding Lizbert and that was easy to exploit. “No, I… I can figure it out myself.”

“Now who’s being stubborn?”

“I uh… you’re right. I’ll ask her. But you…” she walked up to them to poke them lightly in the chest, “need to go rest, okay? Until the stone doors are open you need to be sitting around doing as little physical actively as possible, got it?”

“Got it.”

She held her stern gaze on them for a couple seconds longer before they turned away and led the way back outside.

Buddy stood and watched as she headed for the research tent where Triffany could be seen working on something. As soon as Eggabell reached it without looking back at them, they glanced over at the freshly lit campfire. Filbo was there but he didn’t seem to have noticed Buddy coming out with Eggabell. He was distracted talking to Wambus and Chandlo. It was the perfect opportunity to slip away.

So, after sneaking over to Filbo’s hut to retrieve their pack they were headed off for the Scorched Gorge and Sizzling Sands. If they were lucky maybe they would actually find the Snaxsqautch this time and then return to learn that key to opening the doors had been found. Meaning they would be able to finish their story and finally go home and eat real food again. They could only dream.

***

Buddy slipping off unnoticed and without saying goodbye while Filbo had been distracted from waiting for them was not the least bit surprising at this point and he should’ve been on the lookout for such an attempt. But that didn’t make it any less disappointing or worrying especially after interrupting Eggabell and Triffany to ask for Eggabell’s general assessment of their condition. They should be resting and taking it easy as much as possible but instead they were off doing who knows what?

And there wasn’t a single thing Filbo could do about it. He didn’t even know where they’d gone, making going after them hard even if he’d stood much of a chance of convincing them to come back and rest – once they were out of town there was no getting them to come back until they wanted to. So he just put on a positive attitude and went on his rounds around town, a lot later than usual because he’d spent the bulk of the day climbing up and then back down Frosted Peak but whatever. He checked up on Floofty to make sure they were okay after the whole almost cutting their head off for science thing a few weeks ago. And Wambus and his garden. Gramble’s ranch and everyone else with their various things they were doing or working on. He inquired after the egg too of course. He still felt a bit weird about how it was biologically his but the relief of not having to be in charge of it and the little life within far outweighed that feeling. Besides it seemed to make those in charge of it happy and that was good to see.

The town really was starting to knit itself back together. And even if Eggabell wasn’t going to stay for much longer she was still back for now and interacting with Triffany and some of the others again. Now all they needed was Lizbert here and everything would be back to how it was before. Or actually, better because everyone was starting to get along more than even before they’d split. Some of that was centered around those caring for the egg but it was also just in general amongst everyone. It was very good to see, filling Filbo with that fuzzy warm feeling of wanting to get everyone into a group hug or something. He wasn’t going to push it though.

It was all mostly thanks to Buddy, getting everyone back and then helping with everyone’s problems. … The only downside was that they were running themself half to death while doing so and factoring into that was them having carried the egg unknowingly for months. They were really amazing and wonderful… he was worried about them. Nothing he could do about that right now though so…

Shaking that off for now he looked up at the others gathered around the campfire which was almost everyone in town except for Eggabell and Triffany. Even Floofty and Snorpy were here even if they weren’t likely to stay long, they never did. “We should have another party,” he said, drawing everyone’s gazes to him.

“Another one, really?” Beffica said though she didn’t sound quite as scornful as she used to when questioning his ideas. Progress was being made there too!

“Yeah. Almost everyone’s back now. So I was thinking we should celebrate. It’ll be fun.” And a party would be a good way to get Buddy to rest in town a little more. It could also act as an informal farewell to them since they should and would hopefully finish their story soon, allowing them to go home. Whether Filbo was going to accept their invite and go with them, he hadn’t decided yet but he had until they were actually leaving to make that decision. “So what do you guys say?”

There was a general murmur of agreement to indifference about the idea. No one was enthusiastic about it but that was fine, once the party actually started, they would all hopefully be more into it.

“If we’re going to do this party thing,” Snorpy spoke up over everyone else. “I need some time to make some uh, special party lights for uh, partying purposes.”

“This request has to do one of your ridiculous conspiracy theories, doesn’t it?” Floofty said, giving him that look that almost always led to an argument between them.

Before he could respond and make that argument a reality, Filbo spoke up cheerfully as if he hadn’t picked up on any of that tension. “We could use some cool party lights!” If doing whatever he was going to do the lights would make him feel better about attending the party than Filbo didn’t care. “So it’d be awesome if you could make some special ones for us. How long do you think that’ll take?”

Floofty rolled their eyes but didn’t say anything. Snorpy looked nervously their way for a couple seconds before looking back at Filbo – argument successfully averted, thank goodness! “A few days should do, no more than a week for sure.”

“Awesome! Let me know when you’re done and I’ll start setting everything up.” And maybe he could get Buddy to help with that too. While it wasn’t proper rest it would still be far more restful than running around after bugsnax and the Snaxsqautch had to be so it’d be worth to ask them.

#my writing #bugsnax #filbuddy #filbo fiddlepie #the journalist #eggabell batternugget

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simoviacourt · 4 years ago

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hey simovia! love your blog and story. alma is my favorite. do you support monarchies in real life or are you anti-monarchist? goodbye

Hi anon! Thank you for the compliment, I’m glad you enjoy my story. To answer your questions... I live in a country that is a monarchy so technically speaking I am financially supporting a monarchy in real life. 😉

But in all seriousness, on my being anti-monarchist or pro-monarchy, I find those terms a little too black and white for my opinion. Do I think that there is value in a system that does not depend on gaining voter support every four years? Yes. Do I think that there are massive problems with a system like that? Also yes. At best monarchies can act as a stabilising force for a country, be a source of cultural and moral leadership, help form bonds between their country and other nations and support the industries and causes both worldwide and in their country.

Now that said, monarchies are systems that rely on immense privilege that stems from hundreds of years of exploiting the other classes, even in countries that had next to nothing to do with colonialism. Do I think that this is a reason for them to be fully dismantled? Not necessarily. There is absolutely a very dire need to acknowledge and recognise that history and where possible, make reparations for it, even though nothing done today will change things that happened in the past, or really make up for them.

You might think that getting rid of the monarchy would solve those issues but here’s the thing. Especially in Europe, there are countries that have a 1000+ year history being a monarchy. So many of these countries have their legislation and government very intricately ties to their monarchies, and if anything, the past 100 years should give us an idea of what can happen when monarchies are quickly dismantled. Look at the European countries that got rid of their monarchs after the First World War and later the second, and how well they fared. Not sure it was a good trade for the people... in fact, so much so that Spain brought back their monarchy after getting rid of their right-wing dictatorship. (Not that there isn’t much to criticise about the Spanish RF... they did have to exile a former king, after all) Now, you might say, but Senja, the US got rid of monarchy and gained its independence and set up a republic system... and I will ask back, how equal and democratic did they really make that system? Does that system also not rely on privilege? Was it not funded by oppression?

So to sum it up... I am neither pro-monarchy nor anti-monarchy, but rather someone who can see both the flaws and the benefits. Not all monarchies are good and not all of them are bad, same as not all republic systems are good and not all of them are bad. By all means, let’s criticise where it’s needed (both monarchies and republics) and hold people accountable but let’s also not paint all countries and systems with one brush. There are monarchies beyond just the British one...

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madzfm · 3 years ago

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˛ ⠀ * ⠀ ★ ⠀ JESSICA ALEXANDER . CIS FEMALE . SHE / HER ⧽ ⠀ have you seen the 786 latest post ? sources say they have some serious dirt on the child of a big time COUNTRY MUSIC STARS . they haven’t revealed who it was yet but my best is on MADISON DARLING ! ever since that last update about how she ALLEGEDLY GOT CAUGHT SPORTING A BABY BUMP LAST YEAR BEFORE GHOSTING EVERYONE i don’t put anything pass them . i mean , these celebrity kids are just out of control . they do whatever they want , whenever they want and are ungrateful in the process !! i mean take MADDIE for example , they’re a TWENTY THREE year old DANCER , and what did they do to get there ? have famous parents ! like hello , just because you HAVE BEEN IN MUSIC VIDEOS WITH A-LIST MUSICIANS doesn’t mean you actually deserved it . i’m glad the 786 is taking them down a notch . it’s about time someone does .

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂 / 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 / 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

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hey ... hey ... how y’all doin’ ? i’m sooo excited to be here , besties ! sorry i’m late with the intro , it’s been a looooong weekend for me but i’m eager to get the ball rolling . so here’s the rundown , the google doc has a full bio + more stats + headcanons but i don’t expect anyone to actually read all that nonsense so i’ve tried my best to sum it up below ( it’s still kinda long tho i’m sorry y’all i ramble too much ). i’m always down to talk plots & threw a few wanted connection ideas at the bottom , so feel free to hmu on discord any time <3 but yes okay let’s get into it

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━━ ˊ * 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 . .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. madison dallas darling . 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬). maddie , mads . 𝐝𝐨𝐛. april 14 , 1998 . 𝐚𝐠𝐞. twenty - three . 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜. aries sun , libra moon , leo asc . 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. cis female . 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬. she / her . 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. bisexual . 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. nashville , tn . 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 5ft 5in . 𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. high school diploma . 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. dancer / realty tv personality . 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬. robert “robbie” darling - father . dixie darling - mother . delaney darling - sister . 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬. compassionate , imaginative , family-oriented , devoted , generous , sympathetic , idealistic , self critical , naive , competitive , indecisive , impressionable , elusive , sensitive .

━━ ˊ * 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 . .

tw : things like shitty controlling parents , injury , & pregnancy are mentioned

born & raised in nashville , tennessee , madison is the daughter of two country music icons ( basically blake shelton & miranda lambert ) & has only ever known a life in the spotlight . her parents were a widely adored it couple who shared their lives with millions of viewers across the world with their reality tv show . at 7pm cst you could tune in to watch robbie & dixie raise their two daughters - having some good ol’ wholesome family fun while juggling responsibilities that come with being famous artists . to any outsider looking in , they seemed like the perfect family . a loving father , a supportive mother , two prim & proper daughters that collected accolade after accolade in every pageant & talent competition they ever entered . but you shouldn’t believe everything you see on tv , even if it’s deceptively labeled as “reality” .

when the cameras weren’t rolling , the darling sisters were left under their mother’s restrictive control . dixie darling treated her daughters more like dolls than living beings , madison & delaney were basically pretty little accessories . while robbie never dared to mistreat his daughters , he was around a lot less than the show made it seem - often touring the world rather than spending quality time with his girls . plus , dixie & robbie seemed to endlessly fight with one another - nearly every childhood memory madison has of her parents involves them yelling . if she wanted to see them looking happy & in love , she’d have to tune in to the fabricated reality on their own show to get a taste of what a happy , loving family looks like .

you can’t be a child of dixie darling without being exploited in some way . while delaney was pushed into the music scene , madison was shoved into the world of dance . she took every class that was offered & practiced for hours upon hours to perfect her craft . her sister had taken after their folks with the singing voice of an angel & the looks to rival that of miss universe , meanwhile maddie was good for two things : dance & doing whatever her mother said . so when dixie said to twirl , she twirled , when she said do a grand jeté, maddie asked how high & then over performed like the good little girl she was trained to be .

it wasn’t until her parents got divorced & maddie moved to miami to be with her sister , her father , & her father’s new girlfriend that she sort of came out ( or more accruately described as dragged out ) of her timid , non - confrontational , subservient shell . with a longer leash , she had more freedom to roam far & wide . no one tried to tell her what to do or who to talk to & considering she was just a privileged teenager with endless funds & the status to get away with just about anything , you can imagine how badly that went . every mistake she made was broadcasted onto people’s televisions or headlined in tabloids . it was stressful , growing up & messing up all under the watchful gaze of millions of people who felt entitled to berate her for her poor life decisions . just because they watched her grow up on tv didn’t mean they actually knew anything about her . & yet so many people shared their unsolicited opinions on her & her life . it drove her insame .

maddie wasn’t handling the stress of being well known very well . she wanted a break from it all , to just go somewhere far away where no one knew her name & just live by herself . it was a silly dream . nothing she’d ever actively pursue . but the universe has a funny way of giving us a taste of what we think we want just to teach us a lesson .

so over a year ago , maddie found out that she was pregnant . it was a shock to say the least . she kept it a close guarded secret from everyone but her sister for awhile . not only was it a life changing development , but it was one thing that she was determined not to share with the rest of the world . with the idea of running away in continuous loop in the back of her mind , she came up with a plan to buy herself some time . she faked a really bad injury during a performance & let the media run with saying she might not be able to walk , let alone dance ever again . pushing the cover story even further , she claimed to be in need of intense physical therapy & sought after it in a luxurious private lodge in new zealand . that’s where she stayed during her year away , letting no outsiders come visit while she figured out how she was going to move forward with this baby growing inside of her .

so maddie finally got the break she was looking for even if it wasn’t under the circumstances that she would’ve liked . but she adapted to the situation . in her time away , she went through the entire pregnancy but it was basically decided for her by her parents that it was best to give the baby up for adoption . the little girl would be in good care by a couple that was a family friend of the darlings . better to bless someone who wanted a baby but couldn’t have one than for maddie to keep her daughter when she wasn’t in a place to take care of her . it broke her heart , honestly . she had grown quite attached to the baby & even entertained the idea of being a single mom even though she knew her own mom would never let that happen - it would go against the strict narrative that they try to put out there about the darling family .

after a year away , maddie is back in miami without anyone knowing what really happened . she keeps using the “injury” as the excuse for her absence from the spotlight . anyone really close to her might be able to tell that something’s off , but she’s trying so hard to act like everything is fine & nothing has changed at all . she might even be able to get away with her lies - if it wasn’t for that damn 786 website threatening to spill the tea & make her life hell .

━━ ˊ * 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

a wannabe good girl gone bad but harbors a deep rooted fear of being a disappointment & a failure due to her mom’s strict parenting style . so like she wants to be rebellious & come across as carefree but internally she’s panic screaming always ( honestly relatable like same , girl )

well - mannered in a sweet southern belle kind of way with her please’s & thank you’s & calling everyone ma’am & sir out of respect & what not

biiiig mom friend energy . she just wants to make sure that everyone is taken care of . she can get very protective & a little helicopter parent-y with her friends . it probably has something to do with control issues that she doesn’t realize she has but we don’t have time to unpack that rn akjsdbk

before her year away i want to say that she was a lot more people please-y / overly eager to please ?? like rarely said no to people that asked for favors , always agreed to any plans people invited her to out of courtesy , & what have you . but now i see her as being a little less patient than before & a little bit more unhinged & quick to shut down or snap

guillable ! naive ! dumb as hell ! believes that everyone was raised with the same values as her & has a big of a heart like she does so she’s easily subjectable to getting her feelings hurt & i say let it happen !!

wants to be mysterious so bad but there is very little known about her & her life that isn’t public knowledge . she could get shit on by a bird & it’ll probably become a twitter highlight idk she just wants to believe she’s imperceptible & acts all evasive in order to keep her private life private but that rarely ever has the desired effect

one of those annoying rich & famous people that’s like “i wasn’t meant to be famous . i was meant to have a normal life & be a normal person” but like !! she is actually so out of touch with reality & probably couldn’t tell you how much milk is at the grocery store because she has people to do mundane day to day things for her . spoiled little privileged rich girl , let’s be real . her dad tried to keep her humble , idk what happened

dance style / career is pretty much inspired by maddie ziegler but also not really bc i am very picky & choosey about which aspects of her career i’m pulling from

boring on social media because she hardly ever posts & is very short with her captions & tweets when she does make an appearance online every blue moon

dodges questions about what she’s been up to while she was gone like she’s in the matrix or something . all that pr training her mom put her through when she was younger is coming in handy because she has not given a single honest , straight answer in the months she’s been back . would rather talk about anything else than herself right now so don’t be surprised if she pulls some random subject changes out of her ass if people get nosy . i’m sure the common conspiracy is that maddie was so embarrassed by the fall on stage that she went into hiding

delaney is the kim kardashian & britney spears of the family while madison is the kourtney & the jamie lynn xoxo

━━ ˊ * 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

ride or die , bad influence , frenemies , family friends , good influence , confidant , rival , girl squad , non judging breakfast club , childhood friend , unlikely friend , exes on good terms , exes on bad terms , neighbors , pr friendship , pr enemy , social media mutuals , party buddies , secret friend , secret hook - up , crush , friends with benefits , adventure buddy , enemy with benefits , dance partners , mentors , mentees , sibling like relationship , will they won’t they , people suspicious of her & her supposed “injury” , father of her baby 👀 jk ..... unless

#786intro #template credit to yeonjvnz on deviantart !#they're linked in the source <3

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imagineyourself · 4 years ago

Text

Teacher’s Pet- A Spencer Reid Imagine

Spencer Reid x fem! psych major! reader

A/n: Hi guys, I’ve watched 9 seasons of criminal minds in 2 weeks, so expect a lot of criminal minds stuff coming! Also, kind of want to write a part 2 to this so lmk if you would like that!

Gif is not mine creds to @toyboxboy

Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood and knives

Word count: 2.6k

“The unsub is likely in a position of power, well respected, maybe even admired. He works with young people, probably a teacher or professor. We need to find him, and fast before he kills another young girl.” Rossi spoke to the room of officers. The room disperses to begin searching for the killer, 4 girls are already dead.

“Rossi, I think I found the connection between the girls.” Dr. Spencer Reid turning away from the board with the bodies taped to it and a file in his hand. “They all shared a professor.”

“They all went to different schools, different majors.” Morgan interjects.

“He is a professor at multiple universities, and they’ve all taken a psych class at some point, mostly introductory level. He must have connected with them during that time.” Reid continues.

“Who is it, dammit, Reid?” Hotch said.

“A Professor Deslaurier, professor of psychology, which explains why he was hard to find. He’s one of us. But better than that, I think I know who his next target is.”

*campus cafe around the same time*

“I’m not saying that I’m ready to start dating again, but I would love to see what that barista’s got going on.” My best friend said grabbing her coffee from the counter, winking at the barista drying mugs.

“Oh my god, keep it in your pants, you and Garrett just broke up. Like 2 days ago. You were devastated, remember?” I remind her, gently shoving her with my elbow as we sat at a table by the window.

“His name was Garrett so clearly he isn’t that hard to get over. But anyway what’s up with you relationship wise, any new people?” She presses her lips to her coffee cup, as I pull out my laptop from my bag.

“You and I both know nothing is happening in that department. School and work is taking up all my time, and I can’t help but ruin dates with my charming personality.” I pull up my latest essay for my criminal psychology class, only 5 words on the page: my name, the date, and the class.

“Stop going all psych major on people when you’re on a first date or you’ll be alone forever.” She rolls her eyes at me as she glances out the window. Her eyes squinting in concentration, so I follow her gaze seeing a group of people in FBI uniforms talking to campus security.

“What the hell?” I say watching one of them glance around and look at the campus cafe and nod his head in its direction. The agent made his way over to the shop and steps in looking around, scanning like he was looking for someone. Then his eyes land on me.

He rushes over to the table, but his face and voice remain calm despite the urgency in his walk. “Are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, I am. What’s going on?” I look between the man and Y/B/F/N.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, and I’m going to need you to come with me.” He flashes his badge as fear washes over my face. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.” He smiles as I pack up my stuff, my essay still not begun.

I say goodbye to my friend, and leave with the mysterious Doctor. “So what’s going on and why do you need me? Or better yet where are we going?”

“Good question, do you have an apartment or dorm of some sort where we can go for a while?”

“Yea I have an off campus apartment just up the road. We can spend some time there, but why? Am I like in danger or something?”

“We have reason to believe you’re the killers next target.” He keeps me close as I guide him to my apartment. These are not the circumstances with which I would prefer to have this beautiful doctor be coming with me to my apartment, but it just be like that sometimes.

“Who would want to kill me? Why?” I ask as I approach my apartment door, unlocking it to allow us inside. “And what am I supposed to do to stop it?”

“That’s why I’m here, to protect you in case he comes to harm you, and it’s Professor Deslaurier who is attacking his brightest female students.”

“Hank wouldn’t do that. He was so kind,” I pause thinking about everything I’ve learned in my classes, “and I’m an idiot. He was manipulating me so I would trust him. He knew I was vulnerable and exploited that, and he’s a textbook narcissist.”

“Psych major?” Spencer asks as I sit on my couch with my head in my hands, wrapping my head around the fact that my favourite professor wants to kill me.

“Yeah, so I should have seen the signs. But I guess being a target is what happens when you’re stupid enough to trust the first teacher who approaches you.” I start crying, this sucks. The doctor, Spencer I think he said his name is, hands me a tissue. I take it graciously, a small smile creeps onto my lips at the gesture.

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known he was a crazy serial killer. You were just being a good student, but you said that he approached you?” He sits next to me on the couch letting me lean on him slightly.

“Yeah, he came up to me after a lecture, raving about one of my essays and how my perspective was fascinating and came from a personal place. He basically decoded me from an essay. Where is he now?” I pull myself together enough to sit up, seeing the tear stains on his sweater. “ I’m sorry about your sweater.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles and looks down at the stains I left. “We are trying to locate him now and put him away so he can’t hurt you or anyone else.”

“So what am I supposed to do until he’s caught?”

“Do you have anything here to work on? Homework or test to prepare for? I’m a great study buddy if you need help.” He smiles as if he’s not here to protect me from my crazy killer professor.

“Actually I do have a criminal psychology essay due in like 10 hours.”

“10 hours?! Why have you been putting it off? Unless the topic is something uncomfortable to think about?”

“You said your name was Spencer, right? Is it okay if I call you that?” He nods, still waiting for me to answer the question. “Well, Spencer, the essay is about what would make us snap, or our stressor as you guys call it, and kill people. Like searching through our traumas to see what would be the last straw. It’s not exactly a pleasant thought.”

Spencer looks into my eyes, deep like he’s reaching for my soul. He’s trying to profile me, but making it look a lot harder than it is. “You’ve been through a lot before: tough childhood, bad relationships, things like that,” I nod my head averting my eyes “But none of those things means you’re going to become a killer. Stressors only work if you let them, and I’ve had years of profiling experience and from the short time I’ve known you I can safely say you are incapable of killing someone.”

“How are you so sure? You barely know me?” I look up from my hands and gaze into his eyes, they are the warmest honey brown color.

“You and I both know you can learn a lot about someone without having to know them for a significant amount of time. I am highly skilled in the area of subtle detections and putting together clues to build personalities from fragments.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. I can’t hide anything from you because you already know it, so you are already well aware that I am incredibly attracted to you. I may not be an FBI profiler, but I can tell you like me too.” I put my hands over his, seeing his cheeks flare pink at the gesture. I lean closer to him, feeling his breath on my face.

Until he suddenly pulls back, but it was forceful. He didn’t want to, but he had to. I was about to apologize for how inappropriate it was, he’s just doing his job, but he starts before I can talk.

“Your essay is due in 10 hours, more accurately 9 hours 47 minutes and 22 seconds, and you haven’t started. Work on your essay, it’ll distract you from the current situation.” He stands and paces the room as if trying to come up with the best solution to a problem. I just couldn’t tell if the problem was me or the case.

I was going to argue with him, but I sighed knowing he’s right. I need to write my essay so I don’t fail my class. The screen burns my eyes as I stare at the practically blank screen. The sound of my fingers running across the keyboard fills my small apartment as I figure out my story. I stop for a moment after several minutes of furious typing and look up.

“What are some typical stressors of serial killers?” I ask Spencer giving him the opportunity to use his genius brain to help me.

After 4 tortuous hours of writing and editing done by Dr. Reid, I hit submit on my essay. I high five the young doctor in celebration, but he catches my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine instead. The air catches in my throat, I’m speechless. Now it’s my turn to blush at a small gesture. He holds me for a moment, gazes locked on each other. I lean up to meet his lips, but a knock at my door disturbs the quiet of the room. Reid puts a finger to his lips signalling for silence.

“Y/N open up. I know you’re home.” A voice calls from the hall.

“Hank.” I whisper, frightfully looking at Spencer pleading for some direction in the situation. How am I supposed to know what to do when my crazy professor shows up at my apartment to kill me? He nods his head toward the door as he creeps in its direction silently, gun in hand. He looks hot when he’s in agent mode. Wait, not the biggest issue right now, focus Y/N. I stand behind the door, looking over at him and he nods. I open the door slightly. “Hey Professor Deslaurier, what’s up?” He looks distressed and frazzled, but I would too if the fucking FBI was trying to find me for being a serial killer.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Uhhhh, I’ve been working on a paper. Do you need something?” I stand close to the door, practically hugging it as if my life depended on it. Reid’s presence behind the door went undetected by my professor since he stepped closer to the door.

“The paper must be amazing, you were always an amazing writer. May I come in?” He wasn’t really asking, his foot in the doorframe.

“I would rather not, I’m very busy. Deadlines and all.” I push the door closed, but before I could he shoves his way in. I walk backwards into the open space, consciously making an effort not to let Deslaurier know Reid is there by looking at him, which became incredibly difficult as he came closer to me pushing my back into a wall.

“You were always so intelligent and strong headed, but now, you’re just weak and pathetic. Aww look at the panic in your eyes. You can’t think your way out of this one.” He pulls a knife from his pocket and presses the flat side to my neck and I whimper. I squirmed in his grasp and in a moment of panic, I look at Reid. Deslaurier’s gaze follows mine and meets the agent standing in my apartment, gun cocked. Suddenly the cold, hard wall I was pressed against became warm and soft as my killer holds me against him like a shield, a knife to my throat. “Who is this son of a bitch?”

“I’m Dr. Reid with the FBI. Release her, put down the knife.” Spencer points his gun at the floor, knowing he would be unable to get a shot that wouldn’t hit me.

“Oooh, a doctor she chooses smart guys to whore herself out to.” I squirm in his grasp. My neck burns as the sharp edge of the weapon presses into me.

“I’m just here to protect her from you. You aren’t as clever as you think you are, you know? We caught you. You can’t hurt anybody anymore. Drop the knife and let her go. Now. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Let her go.”

“Spencer, please.” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. I’m probably going to die, I’ve accepted that. I just don’t want Spencer to see me go, I can tell this is killing him. Agent or no agent, this is an awful situation to be put in.

“Does she mean something to you, Doctor? I wouldn’t get attached if I were you, she’ll just throw you away like she did to me. Best and brightest in my class, but just another stupid girl outside of it.” If looks could kill, Deslaurier would be dead under Reid’s gaze. His eyes soften when he looks at me, giving me hope. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, I swing my leg back into my capture’s knee, dislocating it in the process. The knife sliced through part of my neck, just barely missing vital veins. Spencer takes his shot as the professor falls to the ground, catching me in his strong arms as I fall forward.

“Hey, hey, hey look at me. You’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine. We’re going to take you to the hospital and get you stitched up. Okay? Just keep looking at me.” He holds me as we sit on the floor.

“Spencer…” I whisper and everything goes dark.

Beeping and whispers fill the room as I open my eyes. I’m sitting in a hospital bed, what happened? Why does my head hurt so much?

“Hey take it easy. You’re in the hospital, you lost a lot of blood.” Spencer says, standing next to my bed taking my hand.

“What happened after I blacked out? How did we get here?” The beeping becomes incessant as my heart races.

“Relax, it’s okay,” He squeezes my hand and the beeping softens, “My team went to your apartment and took care of Deslaurier, I shot him in the shoulder after you kicked him, which good job by the way, even if it caused you to get hurt. You ended up getting a nasty cut on your neck, but it missed any critical veins.”

“Thanks.” I smile looking at our hands.

“You know you scared me half to death when you lost consciousness.”

“Well, sorry, I’ll try not to almost get murdered by a serial killer next time.” I smirk sarcastically as he laughs stroking my cheek.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“You know, we were in the middle of something before being rudely interrupted.” I look up at the gorgeous doctor who happened to save my life.

“Oh yeah, where were we again?” He smirks, lowering himself closer to my level in the bed.

“Right about here.” I pull him close, kissing his pillow soft lips.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds imagines

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years ago

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Hey! TW suicide So, I'm rewatching the episode where Karofsky kills himself, and, again, I'm so mad at the way they made Will talk about his weird suicidal moment? I mean, yes, the way he describes it I think he was at least seriously considering that atm. And I also kind of get that they couldn't make anyone of ND suicidal and then just carry on and all.

But as someone who has been suicidal for something around 10 years it just felt so, so invalidating and wrong and strange. I wish they would have been more careful with that topic. Also, this whole "promise me you'll never think of it" talk? That's exactly what leads to the shame around the topic and therefore the fact that people won't talk about their THOUGHTS and then turn them into ACTIONS.

And I think the cough syrup scene thing was so powerful and moving and the way Kurt reacted and everything else that was said was so good and on point. but Wills story - I felt like just shouting at him that he should shut up and let the people who actually know what they're talking about talk.

I don't know how to phrase it better since English isn't my first language, but I really really wanted to like shine a light on this. Because suicide prevention and awareness is so important and it just sits wrong with me how they treated it. So, I'm sorry for bothering you with this, but I feel like it needs to be said...

Sorry, the suicide-anonymus again, first of all I just realised I should've said I've BEEN suicidal for ten-ish years, so no need to worry or anything.

Secondly, I continued watching and there's this whole finchel wedding drama in the episode going on as well and it just feels plain wrong to follow up such an important topic. I really believe glee screwed up on this. Even tho the Kurt-Karofsky storyline is really good imo

(I also swear I won't bother you anymore, sorry!)

Hi!

First of all - I just want to say that you guys rarely ever are bothering me. The only time I’m ever bothered by receiving asks is when people are rude, mean, or full of wank, and that doesn’t happen very often. I’m happy to chat with you guys -- so please feel free to drop a line any time!

So, there are a couple of things I’d like to talk about here. I take suicide discussion very seriously.

First of all, I want to state that I think that the conversation around suicide, and specifically LGBT+ youth suicide, is mishandled. This is an episode that jammed a competition, Finchel’s wedding, and texting and driving into the episode not only jarred the varying tones of the episode, but seemed to be there to exploit the issue for more Emmy nominations rather than seriously discuss it.

I don’t necessarily think that was the writers intentions. I do think they cared, and I do think this was a topic they wanted to make sure they covered. But it was so clumsily handled, seemingly more so for shock value, that it ended up devaluing their meaning -- that kids need help. And shifting the story to Karofsky, so that one of the main character gays wouldn’t have to deal with it, saddled his story with a lot of unnecessary baggage. Sometimes bullies, closeted or no, are just bullies.

I also agree that Will should not have been handling this kind of discussion. He is not a professional counselor - Emma would have been a better choice, but unfortunately, at this point Emma’s been reduced to a comedic punching bag instead of being taken seriously as an actual character. And while it’s fine if a mentor would like to have this kind of conversation, I think it’s clear from the writing of this scene that the writers didn’t fully know how to address this situation themselves, and I think not having the room in the episode to fully discuss it, the whole message becomes muddled and, possibly unintentionally, obtuse.

That said, there is one thing I want to mention regarding Will, though. I think it’s unfair to chastise someone for having, even momentarily, suicidal thoughts - no matter how minor the situation may be. I don’t conversations that sometimes arise where people’s struggles are compared against each other’s. I do get what you’re saying, Nonny, that the writing of Will in this scene seems flippant in regards to the greater story, and I’m not disagreeing with that sentiment, but I also want to make sure it’s being said that no matter how put together someone is, there might always be a trigger that pushes them down a darker path. And we shouldn’t be dismissive of that.

However, I do agree that Will’s declaration of never talking about that is the wrong kind of mentality. As someone who has struggled with mental illness throughout her life - the best thing you can do is seek help, even if it’s finding someone to talk to about it. Keeping it inward, or punishing yourself for having those feelings, is not the right solution. And people should not place shame on themselves for feeling that way. I have seen what shame has done to people, and it’s not pretty or healthy.

I don’t particularly like this story myself, for a lot of reasons. I’m glad you have gotten something out of it -- even if I don’t like the Kurt/Karofsky stuff myself (it feels too much like victim blaming for me), but I’m not here to tell people how they should or shouldn’t react to something.

I’m glad you’re doing better, Nonny! All the good vibes to you, and anyone else going through hard times. *hugs*

#tw: suicide #tw: depression

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years ago

Text

You Pick a Fight - P2

Eyyyyy it’s prompt time. I have since forgotten what prompt’s @imagine-that-100 gave me from the prompt list for this part two, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway. :P

And I was right, because it wasn’t over. The pool incident was just the start of much more bickering and fighting over nothing that was set to come during the months between Matty and I. We hadn’t known each other all that well prior to that day, but it definitely set the bar for future interactions. Being argumentative and stubborn was just a habit neither of us could break, much to all of our mutual friend’s annoyance. It might’ve been on the verge of immature, since we were both pushing thirty, but neither of us cared. And we never really meant it. Grudges about stolen floaties were not held for long. It was a rare occasion that we genuinely made up and said sorry, but typically by the end of the day we had either forgotten about it or played some prank on the other to feel avenged about our wrong doing. Over the course of many months of arguing and pranking, Matty and I inevitably became closer. Realistically, Matty was probably one of my best friends by this point in my life. We saw each other at least a couple of times a week for various reasons and I enjoyed his company (mostly). But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying to constantly one-up him and make sure I destroy him any time he challenges me to anything. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You gotta know your opponent’s weaknesses to best exploit them.

However, tonight was our regularly scheduled movie night. So, more than likely no arguing would be occurring tonight. The movie had already been picked by democratic vote by the group, which meant there would be no debates about that. Everyone was bringing their own snacks, nothing to fight over. And we rotated who hosted, so no arguments there either. This week it was Matty’s turn. Last week when it had been at my flat, we had picked a comedy movie to watch and ended up receiving a noise complaint from my neighbour about us being “too rambunctious”. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have the same issue to deal with this week given Matty’s much thicker walls. I was cutting up a tray of brownies that I was graciously bringing to share - one of which may or may not have been spiked with cayenne pepper just to spite Matty for last week when he mixed my bag of skittles with m+m’s - while I replayed the events of last week. The details of the movie were actually a bit of a blur, because after the few drinks that I had downed after a rough day at work, I recalled falling asleep. When I woke up, I found myself snoring on Matty’s shoulder. God, that was utterly embarrassing. Other than my snoring, to wake up cosying up to Matty? I’d rather be caught dead. But I must have been too distracted by these memories, because as I was cutting, I slipped and managed to slice open my thumb with my new knife.

I felt the cut the instant it happened, bracing myself for what I might see before I looked down. Sure as shit, all I saw was a lot of red. The first thought to run through my head was that my brownie plan was ruined. I couldn’t serve brownies that had been doused in blood. The second was that I absolutely needed to seal this wound as soon as possible. I raced to the bathroom, grabbing a roll of gauze and wrapping it around my thumb as tightly as I could. Do I call an ambulance? No, this wasn’t an ambulance sort of emergency. Emergency, though. I should go to the emergency room. Now. But I had to let the guys know I wasn’t coming. I could see the gauze starting to turn red as I searched my phone for Matty’s contact. Fuck, I felt so bad for bailing on this movie night given it was our regular thing, but this was really not good. Really, really not good. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey-”

“Look, I need to go to emergency.” I interrupted in a garbled rush.

“What?” He shouted down the line.

“I need to go to hospital, so I’m not gonna make it tonight.” I explained, slightly slower.

“What did you do?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

“I sliced my thumb open cutting brownies.” I just heard him laughing. “It’s not funny, Matty. I need stitches.” I frowned as I started to grab my essentials. What if they wanted to keep me in overnight? Oh my god, I was absolutely not prepared for something like this. I should have a go bag. Is that a thing normal people did? Have a go bag in case they accidentally injure themselves? Maybe smart people did.

“Do you need me to drive you?” He offered as I was contemplating what exactly I would put in a go bag.

“What? Uh, no. I’m okay. I think.” I rattled off.

“I’ll meet you there.” I heard him say. He what? Why would he want to come to the hospital?

“Wait. No, you don’t-” But he’d already hung up.

Before I left the house, I slapped another few layers of bandage over the gauze on my thumb to try and put some pressure on this cut that was apparently bleeding like a tap by the rate it was turning things red. Driving to the hospital with a thumb as fat as mine was with all the bandages wrapped around it was not easy to say the least, but I managed to get there in one piece. Once I had gotten there, paid for my parking, and then managed to check myself into the ER, I was able to take a seat and decompress slightly. But, the peace and quiet didn’t last long, because not even five minutes after I sat down a familiar face entered through the sliding glass doors.

“Good job.” Matty said as he approached, with a slow clap for emphasis.

“Don’t patronise me.” I scoffed.

“Show me.” He said as he took a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to my own.

“It’s okay-”

“Just show me what you did.” He dismissed.

“I mean, I can’t really take this stuff off-” I gestured to my half blood-soaked bandages, “-or it’ll bleed worse.”

He let out a low whistle as he raked a hand through his curls. “Bloody hell.” He muttered under his breath, before glancing up at me. “Pardon the pun.” He added with a smirk.

“Shut up. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” I lied. I was trying to play it down, to pretend like I hadn’t briefly seen how deep that knife went, but I knew that this was definitely very vital that I see a doctor very fucking soon.

He met my gaze, clearly seeing the stress I was trying to hide. “You’re not very convincing.” He chuckled.

Despite my protests about him wanting to wait with me, Matty continued to ramble on about what he had done earlier in the day while we sat in the crowded waiting room. He also told me not to worry about cancelling on the movie night, and thanked me for trying to make brownies. If only he had known what his brownie was going to taste like. But at least he was distracting me from the weird sensation in my thumb. After about half an hour, I was called through to be seen by the nurse - which realistically just meant that I sat and waited in another room for a further ten minutes until I was finally seen by someone. When she walked in, she introduced herself and asked for a run down of the situation as she started gathering some supplies. After I had explained what I had done, she started moving towards my giant wad of bloody fabric.

“I’m gonna look away.” I warned the nurse, she just nodded in response. I felt her unravelling the bandages on my thumb, trying really hard to busy myself by studying the vision tester chart on the wall. She let out a quiet hum as she analysed the situation.

“All right. I am going to put some glue on this now to hold it, but we are going to need to anaesthetise you to properly sort this out. Is that okay?” She asked in a calm tone. They were going to knock me out? It was bad enough to need to be knocked out for?? Holy shit.

“Um, yep.” I nodded. “I suppose it’ll have to be.” I added with a nervous laugh. “When will that be?”

“As soon as they can get you in. Likely in the next few hours.” She answered.

When I came back out of the nurse’s station, I sat back down and told Matty what they had said.

“They need to sedate you?” He asked in shock.

“I’ve apparently done quite a number on myself.” I could feel the stress building up as the realisation set in. Oh my god. I had cut off my thumb. I had cut off my thumb and now they needed to reattach it. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

“Hey, calm down.” He reassured, placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”

“But what if it’s too late? What if I cut too far? What if-”

Thankfully, Matty interrupted my downward spiral of anxiety. “They would’ve told you if that were the case. They’re going to operate, so it must be fine.” He moved to take my good hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing mind as I nodded in agreement. At least one of us was the voice of reason right now. “When are you going in?” He questioned, seeming genuinely sympathetic.

“They said as soon as possible. I just have to wait here until a theatre frees up.” I replied. He just nodded thoughtfully. “You should go back to the movie night.” I said, eventually feeling guilty that he’d already been sat waiting here for an hour.

“No.” He shook his head as he rifled through his pocket. “You want some gum?” He asked, holding a packet out in my direction.

I looked down at them apprehensively. “They’re not some ridiculous flavour, are they?”

He laughed loudly. “No, I threw the wasabi ones out.”

It was another hour before I was finally called through to get ready for theatre. Now I was genuinely feeling pretty awful that Matty had been here this whole time. We had well and truly pushed past dinner time, he’d missed the movie, our friends were all sat at his place without him. He can’t have been having a good time stuck here with me.

“Okay, I gotta go in.” I said as I stood up.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He smiled up at me from his seat.

“Just go home, I’ll be fine.” I said as I gestured to the door.

“No.” He grinned.

“Go.”

“No.” His dark brown eyes bore into mine, clearly challenging me to push him further on the subject.

“I hate you, so much.” I grumbled as I heard the nurse call my name again.

“I love you, too.” He said, blowing a kiss for emphasis as I walked off.

The doctors all reassured me that the operation was going to be quick and easy. Knock me out, stitch me up, wake me up fifteen minutes later. Easy peasy. I had never had any issues with operations, being knocked out was easy. It was the stuff you had to be awake for that was hard. True to their word, when I saw the clock when I started coming to, it had been no more than half an hour than when I last checked the time. But my god I felt groggy. My brain felt like it had been replaced with a bunch of cotton balls and my eyelids might as well have been made of lead. I glanced down at my thumb, seeing a much smaller pile of bandages on there, that were now thankfully not soaked in blood. That was nice. I then caught sight of the man sat next to my bed.

“Hey, you’re up.” Matty said quietly as he stepped over. As soon as he leaned over the bed frame, the fluorescent lights above him just illuminated his dark, curly hair. Holy shit. It looked borderline angelic. “How’re you feeling?”

“Your hair…” I mumbled as I reached out my good hand to touch it.

He seemed surprised by my actions at first, before letting my run a hand through it. “What about it?” He asked with a quiet laugh.

“It’s really soft.” I answered, genuinely quite surprised by how nice it felt. “Has it always been that soft?” I felt like I had been missing out. I could’ve been touching this hair for nearly a year now and instead I had been swapping his shampoo for ranch dressing and perfume.

Matty seemed keen to indulge my anaesthesia haze, letting me bother him with all of my weird questions about his hair. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. I did a lot of mean shit to him and here he was, sat with me in emergency all evening instead of hanging out with his friends. After the pranks I’d pulled, I likely didn’t deserve a friend like him. But he’d pulled them on me too. We were a pretty good pair, I suppose. And I had no idea if it was this lighting or what, but dare I say, Matty was looking pretty attractive today. Had I really just been so focused on butting heads with him that I never noticed these things before?

“Are you sure you really look this good? I feel like I must still be dreaming.” I said, pretending to shield my eyes.

He frowned, before the realisation dawned on him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

“Don’t use cheesy pickup lines on me.” He chuckled.

“How else am I meant to pick you up?” I scoffed as I rolled my eyes.

“Are you trying to?” He asked as a smile slowly made its way onto his face.

“Maaaaybe.” I said in an attempt to be non-committal, but then my curiosity got the better of me. “Is it working?”

“I’m gonna remind you of this when you’re properly out of the anaesthetic.” He just looked amused. Not the reaction I had hoped for. But I was too tired to keep trying to come up with clever lines.

“Okay.” I muttered, nodding softly. “Gon’ sleep now, though.” I added.

“Rest up.” He agreed. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get to deal with me giving you shit for this tomorrow.”

Part one

Part three

#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinymvein #Sunsetinmyvein prompts #Sunsetinymvein requests

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