#because I now have a very clear picture of this story and honestly just don’t want to unnecessary extend it

[lieutenant-amuel]

Alright, I tried to make a new plan (that I’ll mess up right after writing the first chapter but it doesn’t matter) for the next chapters to make my life easier and calculate how long it will take me to finish the fic, and there’s ~30 more chapters.

[tkomptgoedluv]

watermelon.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.3

pt.1 here | pt.2 here | pt.3 | pt.4 here

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, angst angst and even more angst, did i mention angst?, tooth-rotting fluff, so fluffy it’s honestly a little cringe <3, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 3,493.

warnings: very brief + vague reference to SA, rpf.

notes: hello!! welcome to pt.3 <3 this is probably the part that i’m most proud of, probably because it weirdly hurt the most to write. a couple fun facts about this part: reader’s coat is heavily based on one i have in real life and absolutely adore. also, i genuinely couldn’t bring myself to touch this wip for two whole days because my personal life started to match up with this storyline and i did not like it! became a little too self-indulgent. anyways — enjoy!! lemme know what you think.

love you all lots 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

in a lot of ways, the whole situation was more or less your own idea of hell — ironic, considering it all started with literally the worst night of your life.

not once did you ever think that you’d be here, that this was how things were gonna go. the fun part? you don’t even know how you got here in the first place. for someone so in the middle of it all, you know surprisingly little about what actually happened, or what you must’ve done wrong.

all you know is that it’s different now. joost is different now.

you still text everyday, a few phone calls here and there, and you’ll see him in person a few times a month or more, but you can still feel it. the subtle lack of emotion in his messages, the only-ever increasing wait times in between responses, the missing details in his stories that you’d still end up hearing from your friends. something, at some point, shifted and joost just didn’t seem to be your joost anymore.

at first, you tried to think nothing of it. you weren’t exactly a stranger to anxiety; it’s always been just a little too easy for you to get lost inside your own head. this also wasn’t the first time that you had fallen down this rabbit hole, suddenly convinced that someone you love doesn’t even like you because they said something in a slightly different tone once.

but then those weird few days where things didn’t feel quite right turned into weeks, and it just didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

you thought it could’ve been the videos because, as predicted, entire montages of the fight found their way onto each and every little corner of the internet. joost could be seen clear as day swinging for him, landing punch after punch until one of his friends would eventually step in. though somehow, the backlash against joost never came. for every clip there was a ‘story-time’ to go right along with it, and every single one explained how joost was just defending ‘this girl that had been attacked by that guy.’

so instead you exhausted yourself asking if everything was alright, just in case there was something else going on that he also hadn’t told you. but there was only so many times that you could ask the same question over and over again, only to get the same answer back.

joost was fine; great even.

so it had to be you. nothing was wrong, nothing bad had happened, it was simply just you that had repelled him all of a sudden. and that was all you could think about whilst you sat in a room surrounded by your closest friends — joost included.

it was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend who’s name was still unknown to you and yet somehow you still ended up with an invite. aspon was on your left, deep in a conversation with stuntje about some new anime you’d never heard of, and alanis was on your right, asking to see pictures of daan’s latest art piece.

you, of course, were there in between them all, just staring into space. all of the ice in your drink had melted as it sat forgotten about in your hands, and you were fairly confident that you had memorised each and every scratch in the wooden flooring. you were yet to find a better place to look other than the floor, because of course it was joost that had to be sat opposite you.

he had pulled the short straw really, because by the time he came back in from his cigarette outside, the only seat left was one of those awful, plastic fold-up chairs. like the others he too was wrapped up in a conversation of his own, only his included a girl that you’d never seen before, and he was making her laugh a lot.

you didn’t have a single right to absolutely despise what it was that you were seeing, but still your skin felt hot and itchy, and tears burned behind your eyes. despite arriving together in your group and being seated a measly three feet away from each other, joost was yet to even glance in your direction, let alone talk to you. the blatant avoidance was unbearable; the new ‘you’ that he was talking to was even worse.

but with the anger came the shame, because really, you had no excuse to be feeling like this. two strangers with mutual friends, talking with one another at a house party of all places, wasn’t exactly incriminating. they also weren’t touching or even flirting for that matter — from what you could hear, their conversation seemed limited to small anecdotes about the people in common they both knew.

you weren’t being fair, you weren’t being reasonable; there was no excuse for the tightness in your chest.

without a word, you got up and made a dash for the balcony; desperate for a cigarette. so desperate in fact, that you didn’t stop to grab your jacket despite the rain bashing against the windows. you just needed the fresh air, needed space away from whatever the fuck was going on in there.

the small roof that the balcony upstairs provided did little to shield you from the rain. your hair quickly fell damp around the sides of your face as the wind brought goosebumps to your arms. you really should’ve stopped to grab your coat, you were soaking now.

but the pure, unbridled relief that you felt when you breathed in the smoke of your cig made it all worth it, though. it was something else to focus on, something to help soothe all of your aches and pains. best of all, it gave you a reason to be by yourself for a while — a moment alone to think, to breathe, a chance to get a fucking grip.

you took another drag of your cigarette.

“think you forgot this, schatje.”

over the sound of the heavy-falling rain and the music from inside, you hadn’t heard the balcony door slide open and shut again.

from the corner of your eye you saw joost standing there, clad in a black gilet and the same adidas track-jacket that you had bought for him two birthdays ago. your coat was in his outstretched hands; a big, red furry thing that almost swallowed you whole every time you put it on.

“yeah…thanks.”

you wanted to cry.

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward; neither of you could even look at each other as you took your jacket from him and slipped it on. whilst you focused on looking outwards towards the skyline, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill, joost busied himself with lighting up a cigarette of his own. it felt like you were standing next to a stranger, and not someone who quite literally knew every single little thing about you.

someone who always picked up the phone when you called; someone whose bed you’ve woken up naked in just a few too many times to count.

“you, uh, you doing okay?”

you almost choked on your cigarette.

he’d barely even glanced your way all night, too distracted by other female attention to really care that you were there at all, and now he wanted to know how you were doing? oh he had to be joking.

you stubbed out your cig underneath your shoe and went to storm back inside, shoving past him with your shoulder as you did so. you had almost made it too, before he caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back. it really pissed you off how hurt he looked, like this wasn’t all his fault in the first place.

“hey, can we not just talk for a minute? i wanna know what’s been up with you recently. we don’t really talk anymore.”

as hard as you could you pushed him off of you, and then you pushed him once more for good measure. you couldn’t bite it back anymore, couldn’t keep it all from spilling out when your blood was already boiling. if you were to regret it in the morning, you would just blame it on the few drinks you’ve already had.

“and why the fuck do you think that is, joost? tell me.”

a small part of you that you really couldn’t quite understand, genuinely hoped that he would push you back. that he’d get all up in your face, yelling at the top of his lungs, just as angry with you as you were with him. you wanted him to shout, to scream at you about how wrong you were; you wanted to feel crazy for even thinking that something could ever go wrong between the two of you.

you didn’t want him to just…stand there with his tail tucked between his legs, looking like he had already given up on you a long time ago. you found yourself shoving him again, only hard enough to knock him back a step or two this time.

“tell me!”

now more than ever you wished that you could stay angry, that you knew how to hold onto the outrage instead of always just breaking down into pieces. it made you feel so small the way that your voice was cracking; your shouts quickly shrinking into cries. you felt like a child again, begging to understand why everyone always left in the end.

“i just needed to work some stuff out, okay? none of this was meant to happen. i never wanted to make you cry.”

you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, the state of your mascara becoming an afterthought, before raking your fingers through your hair. thin strands stuck to the corners of your face and the back of your neck.

“please, tell me what i can do to make it better.”

joost was panicking now, looking a lot like an old dog that somehow knew it was about to be left behind at the shelter. you could see it in the way his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from one leg to another.

“you can tell me what happened; what changed or what i did wrong. i don’t care.”

from the look on his face, you never would have guessed that all you’d asked him for was the truth; ‘panicked’ was no longer the right word.

“i can’t. i promise, i’ll tell you later but i can’t tell you here. not like this.”

you laughed — you couldn’t help it. three months ago, when you asked him why he was so insistent on doing anything and everything for you, he gave you the exact same line. either he forgot that he’s already used it once before, or he thought you were stupid enough to fall for it all over again; either way, you knew now that ‘later’ was never coming.

before you really knew what you were doing, you were back inside and weaving your way through the small huddles of your friends. a few stared as you began to tread water through the house, a long line of watery footprints following behind you on your way out. you muttered a quiet ‘i’ll see you guys later’ to whoever was listening and in one smooth motion, grabbed your bag from one of the tables and disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind you.

no one tried to stop you. probably for good reason, too, because you could feel the makeup running down your face.

the only good thing to come from looking so sad and drenched from the rain was that nobody on the street stopped to bother you either. not many people were out in this weather anyway, so at most you felt their eyes on you as they passed, a look of pity on their faces. pity for a girl all dressed up for a nice night out, just to be walking home early in tears.

you didn’t want their pity, you just wanted to go home. you wanted your bed and your pyjamas. you wanted a nice warm shower and to try and forget that today ever fucking happened.

you didn’t want joost to be chasing after you.

you didn’t want to hear your name being yelled from down the street by the one person you didn’t want to see right now.

“cmon you always do this! stop running away from everything.”

that was the thing to get you; the one thing that made you stop and turn on the spot.

“oh i’m the one running away? you’re the one that left!���

you met him halfway with steam coming out of your ears, your hands trembling and nose all scrunched up. you were fuming and it seemed as though he was now, too.

“i never went anywhere! you’re making it sound like i disappeared off the face of the earth or something.”

“well that’s what it felt like! what about that don’t you understand?”

you were each taking turns yelling now, oblivious to how loud you were actually being. people were sticking their heads out of their living room windows, morbidly curious about the scene that was unfolding right outside their homes. those that walked by did double-takes and even contemplated getting their phones out to record.

“but i’m here now! and i was ‘here’ back there and you just ran away like you always do!”

“did you really expect me to just stand there and listen to you lie again? all this ‘oh i’ll tell you later’ crap, it’s just bullshit. ever since that night you’ve been different and if what that guy did to me changed how you see me then maybe you’re right, maybe we should stop being whatever the fuck we are.”

joost physically recoiled at your words, his entire demeanour changing to one of hurt.

“what are you..? schatje no, no, it’s nothing like that. fuck, please tell me you don’t really think that.”

how could you not? it was the only thing left for you to think. it wasn’t like you wanted to come to that conclusion or that it was the first one you jumped to, but joost never gave you any other choice. as much as it hurt, it was better than simply not knowing.

something died in him when you nodded — you saw it in his eyes. tears of his own spilled down his cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down his face, wiping his nose with the inside of his elbow.

“i…i would never; that guy…that wasn’t your fault.”

“then tell me the truth, joost.”

all that adrenaline, all that energy from before was long gone. you weren’t two people arguing in the rain, full of love and anger like something straight out of a romcom anymore. you were just two people standing out in the cold, soaked to the bone, just trying to hold on for a little while longer.

you were still waiting for joost to say something, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. if he was to say that same shit again, that he couldn’t tell you now but would later on, that would be it for you. you’d walk away and not turn back again, not for anything; just like that it would be game over.

but joost wasn’t saying anything, and you couldn’t decide if that was any better or not. he was silent as he took a couple steps towards you, the palms of his hands suddenly cupping either side of your jaw. the pads of his thumbs wiped away all the tears and rain from your eyes and tucked the odd strands of hair behind your ears. not once did he glance away from your gaze, not once did he say something.

it was driving you crazy.

“joost?” you were pleading with him now, desperate for him to say something — do something. the way he was looking at you, it was like you were the only thing he could see. “say something.”

“i love you.”

you blinked, and all of sudden you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands anymore. it wasn’t the first time joost had said that to you because he says it to everyone, every single one of his friends. but he had never said it to you like that before, with a look in his eyes so heavy you feared that they might fall right out of his head.

“what?” your voice cracked as you spoke. “i don’t understand…what?”

“i love you. that’s what changed.”

a headache was coming, you could feel it. right behind your eyes, you felt a twinge, and then a subtle thumping that made your eyebrows twitch. you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the more you tried to make sense of it the more your head hurt.

“i swear to god if this is a fucking joke, if you’re just making this up -”

he shut you up with a kiss.

it wasn’t exactly for the first time or even close to being so, but it felt as though it could’ve been; all soft, gentle, careful. the hands that held either side of your face did so as though you could’ve cracked and shattered at any second. he moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until he felt you turn into mush beneath him. only then did he pull away, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

but you couldn’t let him have it though, could you? couldn’t just let him have the upper hand, just like that. you had to chase it, had to pull him down to your height by the collar of his jacket until your lips could meet his. by the time you were finished, both shaking and breathless, there were faint smudges of red all across his mouth.

“that was so hot; do it again.”

you laughed at his words for not the first time tonight, but now it was only out of pure joy instead of anything else. you laughed because of how out of it joost looked now, his eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly as he panted. you laughed because of how much you did want to do it again and how you felt giddy knowing that joost wanted you to do it again too.

so you did. only this time joost was ready and pounced on you hard enough to knock you back a couple of steps, almost making you slip on the wet pavement. his fingers lost themselves in your hair, gently tugging at the roots as yours gripped onto the nylon of his jacket for dear life, too afraid to let go and risk letting him slip away.

you would have stayed like that with him all night if it wasn’t for the wolf whistle you heard from one of the windows above, followed by the rumble of thunder. the rain was starting to fall harder now, the storm only growing and you didn’t like knowing that people were watching you now.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here — people are looking.”

with his forehead resting against yours, joost simply groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. his hands still cradled the back of your head and his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“don’t care. need you.”

he may as well have been one of the puddles at your feet, the way he couldn’t even form proper sentences anymore. the things you were doing to him right now were criminal, almost cruel, and you were loving every minute of it. proud of it, actually. you might have been mush in his hands, but he was like putty in yours.

“well…maybe you should take me home then, yeah? then you can need me as much as you like.”

joost groaned again, muttering something about how you were ‘going to be the death of him’, and leaned back in. from your nose to your cheeks, to your chin, every inch was peppered with very sweet, very wet kisses.

“have i told you much i love you yet?”

he had, at least a handful of times by now, but not nearly enough as you would’ve liked. so you shrugged, a shit-eating grin plastered across your face as you did so, and stepped back, lacing your fingers with his.

“it’s okay, you can tell me one more time.”

apparently that was way too far for you to go, because after one singular step you were tugged back again and kissed as though joost’s very life depended on it. ironic, considering you were certain that you were both about to be struck by lightning at any moment.

“i love you.”

you figured if that were to happen by some chance, it’d be worth it if it meant staying here with him for just a little while longer.

“i love you too.”

[gotskamstuff]

MY THOUGHTS (THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR AND A BIT TOO LONG) ON THE WHOLE “RUDY IS LEAVING THE SHOW/JJ IS DYING” SPECULATIONS

Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who enjoys tv shows and still is very passionate about it but without entering the world of the fandom ‘cause I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that all the things I’ve come to know about the cast in past couple of years have ruined my experience with OBX a little.

Even this whole “JJ is gonna die” speculation, let’s be real it’s not the first time we have discussed this in the fandom and we basically ask ourselves this question every season and yet now it feels different.

I don’t believe speculations coming from unknown sources and I don’t believe in rumors as a solid proof… HOWEVER again I’d be lying if I said that finding out that Josh Pate (one of the main producers of the show) has abruptly unfollowed Rudy and there’s seemingly something that happened between the two, didn’t stir up the fear in me that yeah maybe he could be leaving the show. Because let’s be real, the actors having drama is one thing, but one of the producers cutting ties with you IS A WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY.

This is why it feels different this time.

I remember genuinely fearing JJ was gonna die in S2 when in the trailer they showed his head wound and I was incredibly scared about it, but it was a “devastating” fear still with a tingle of excitement about the storyline involving a possible Pogue death and with curiosity on how the story could possibly move forward…but now? Now it feels completely disappointing knowing that IF JJ dies it will be simply because he wanted to leave and honestly it would completely ruin the show for me ‘cause to put it quite frankly I would lose my trust in the story writing.

I am in no way a snowflake when it comes to characters dying in shows, sometimes I even love it ‘cause as devastating as it can be it can also be an amazing shock factor for the show but it needs to be done with purpose both for the story and for the character.

JJ dying for me would ruin the entire show and it’s not just because “omg Jiara” “omg JJ is my favorite character” “omg the show wouldn’t be the same” but because realistically it would ruin the entire arc of his character.

Regardless of who your favorite character is based on personal preferences, objectively speaking JJ is the best written character of the show and one of the characters who was given the most depth and one of the most interesting storylines, there has been a great amount of good writing when it comes to JJ’s character development and a character like him ending with death would be like throwing all that work out of the window.

I think it’s a pretty common thought amongst the fandom that JJ’s arc to end in a right way for his character would be to literally having him live his future that he so badly believed he could never have. For the whole show JJ has projected hos lack of a future and his impossibility to ever have anything good for himself, his entire story and growth was about him overcoming that and accepting he can prove everyone including himself wrong, to then end his character like “syke you actually do not get a future and you never get to live it” would completely destroy the entire arc of his character and nothing about his journey from S1 to S3 would have any meaning whatsoever looking back at it.

And I want to make it clear that IF (once again it’s still all speculations) JJ dies I still would not put ALL the blame on Rudy for leaving ‘cause actors leave shows ALL THE TIME and there’s an endless number of things you could write to take a character out of the picture especially for JJ who always had an element of unpredictability to him.

If Rudy was like “hey listen, I’m done with the show” the producers could have 100% put their foot down and still negotiate something reasonable for both parties to leave the door open on his character like “ok your choice free to go, but we are not killing the character…would you come back for the final 2 episodes of the entire show?”

And JJ could have tooooons of possible scenarios for him to leave: following his dad, breaking up with Kiara and leaving Kildare…the INSTANT they mentioned the surf trip in the show they had the perfect opportunity to use it as an excuse to make both JJ and Kiara or one of the two leave at any point to be lost somewhere in the world offscreen. So no it wouldn’t be all Rudy’s fault ‘cause there’s a lot of ways to mostly get rid of a character without killing him and closing the door for good.

This is probably gonna sound bad but I’d rather see the show end all together with S4 than seeing it getting dragged out for longer and longer meanwhile the main cast slowly leaves one by one and especially if the writing gets more and more superficial for convenience.

I HONESTLY HOPE THAT AFTER S4 ENDS WE’LL LOOK BACK AT THIS TIME WHEN WE THOUGHT RUDY WAS LEAVING THE SHOW AND LAUGH…but I don’t even know what to believe anymore. I didn’t believe it until I saw the producers cutting ties with him which realistically sounds like a “good life and goodbye”.

WISH WE COULD TURN BACK TIME TO S1.

[buckleyx]

hi, babes! i was wondering if you could possibly write a Buck imagine where the reader has awful parents, and is just comforting ? sorry if not! i’m also sorry if you’ve already gotten this request, my asks don’t send a lot - 🪐

FIX THE FAMILY E.B

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: Hiya love! Sorry it took a while but here u go :)) I hope it's a bit what you had in mind. I love soft buck :(

Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader

Summary: Your sister started a project to 'fix the family' and you're not sure how to feel about it.

Warnings: mentions of bad parenting + bad upbringing and toxic family relationships but comforting buck <33

masterlist

"Not again." You sighed, cursing under your breath as you saw your screen lid up. A blue text message covered the happy lock screen picture of you and Buck. You didn't even have to guess to know who it was from. Your sister had been bugging you all night about a family dinner. You had already politely declined 3 times but she kept pushing. You didn't blame her, your upbringing was a complete different story then hers.

She still had contact with your parents, even visits them every few weeks and she made an unofficial promise to 'try and fix the family.' As much how you despised the idea you couldn't fully blame her for trying. She was the youngest and the most successful and very clear the favorite.

You love LA, your life is here now and you don't feel the need to fix anything. You are happy where you are. You build something here, something personal and safe and your not ready to see it all fall apart again.

"Everything alright?" Buck asked, his head peaking through the door. You sighed, gently throwing your phone on the countertop. Buck's brows knitted together as he slowly made his way over to you. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Without saying a word, you tiredly leaned your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving a soft kiss against your temple. "I don't know." You sighed. "It's my parents."

Buck knew you didn't have a fantastic relationship with them but the topic didn't come out often. Just like his parents. You had talked about your shared struggles but you both didn't like unnecessary mentioning it since it was such a heavy subject to touch for the both of you. You both just didn't wanna push anything. But when it did, when the topic came up in conversation, you both were as supportive as ever. Buck especially, you couldn't ask for anyone better in your life then him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He comforted, brushing his fingers against your cheek. "It's fine." You brushed off. "My sister just thinks she can magically fix the family. I'm surprised they even let her try."

"Maybe they don't know."

"Yeah probably. I haven't seen them in so long. Why now? Why suddenly does she wants to change things now?"

"Have you asked her?"

"No not yet." You admitted, playing with his hair. "Last time I talked to them was Christmas eve."

Buck thought back at the memory and gave you a kind sympathetic smile as he recalled how the evening ended. It was a messy day full of nasty remarks and bitchy comments. First they didn't approve of your job, then of your boyfriend and then they felt the need to break everything else in your life apart. The list could go on forever. It was just horrible. Your brows knitted together as you tried your best to block out the memory. A sigh left buck's lips, he hated seeing you like this. He hated that he couldn't do more to help you. "They treated you afwul, y/n. It's okay not to forgive them."

"I know."

"I didn't forgive my parents." He admitted. "And I honestly don't think I ever will."

"If you want to contact them again, wait until your ready and when you truly want it for yourself. Not because someone forced you to. The same happend to me, I wasn't ready and it turned out into a big big mess." You fell quiet for a second, Buck was right but you had to take a moment to let the thoughts in your mind process everything. You went over every scenario about how that reunion could go before confirming that it wasn't time yet. You weren't ready. And that's okay. Maybe you'll never be ready and that's okay too.

You brushed away some of Buck's hair that had fallen in his face, your hand rested on his cheek before you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Thank you." You said softly before giving him another kiss. The buckley gave you kind smile. "Come on. I'll make you some dinner. It It will help you clear your head."

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[ilikekidsshows]

@aaghht honestly, after seeing more of the show and now the Paris special, my opinion abt Chloe's writing writing has turned from "the writers hate her specifically bc they're out of ideas" into "did Astruc make her based off some1 he hated irl?" cuz it's very ridiculous how s1-3 gave us a different picture of her than we got later. Thomas saw how the fans thought she should grow into redemption as a char,and very strongly disagreed.

Astruc's inability to take criticism is a part of a bigger issue he has as a creator where he is unable to deal with fans interpreting his work differently from what he intended. If his seasons 4-5 treatment of Chloé is backlash at people who saw her as redeemable, it does raise the question why he's so vested in the interpretation that Chloé specifically is irredeemable when the likes of Gabriel and Félix (people whose evil schemes have actually succeeded) got to go scot free. Does he just hate mean teenage girls that much?

I’ve seen this "Chloé is a stand-in for someone Astruc used to know" theory around, and it would explain why he gets so emotional about Chloé online and why he insists a character he created is irredeemable instead of just saying he wrote her to be irredeemable, acting like she has some kind of agency when he's the one who made her and has the power to put her on any character development path he chooses.

My only criticism of this idea is this: I don’t think Astruc is that subtle. I don’t think he’d have the self-control to hold himself back for three seasons and a special when it comes to having a fictional manifestation of his hatred he could do anything with, even though he's made some comments about there being more corporate control over the story during seasons 1-3. Like, the instant they decided to make Adrien a Sentimonster Gabriel started twirling his ring like it was a merry-go-round and he was working at an amusement park. This is why I also don’t believe SentiAdrien was a thing before season 4, and why I call season 4 a retooling. Astruc seems to have very little subtlety as a creator, we can see what he thinks in what he writes, and season 4 marks a clear difference in how he writes Adrien and Chloé specifically.

Astruc is incredibly invested in Marinette's character. She's his baby OC, she was the first idea he created for the Miraculous concept and he worked on the idea for years before a company decided to catch his pitch. Chloé was created as a nemesis to Marinette, a character he calls his imaginary daughter. Does Astruc want the audience to hate Chloé because she's mean to his "daughter" or because she's some spectre of a past school bully he never got over? Considering only school bullying is treated with proper gravitas on the show, while terrorism, domestic abuse and slavery are just everyday stuff everybody is cool with, it could very well be the latter. But if that's the case, seasons' 1-3 production must have really stifled what he wanted to do with her character originally.

[kats-fic-recs]

My favorite Kuroken fics <3

In Another Castle

Kenma feels his face go hot. People have to be looking at them. They’re having a fight in front of a real estate agency. But he doesn’t look away, and musters the courage to say, “Kuro, I want you to live with me.”

The Whole Of The Moon

Tetsurou has never thought about it before, but right now, he is absolutely and thoroughly terrified.

Because he’s so, so in love, and he’s always known that Kenma is it for him, but what if he’s not it for Kenma?

Or: a Kuroken soulmate AU in which both of them suffer and there's communication in all the wrong ways

Not For Nothing

Kuroo-san never says no to you,” Shouyou says

Not Your Mother's Hot Toddy

Kuroo always knew he would eventually end up killing someone for Kozume Kenma, he just thought he would have a lot more time to prepare.

Or: Kenma's hungry, Kuroo's bad at thinking on his feet, and Shouyo just wants to make friends in the city.

Live From the Lonely Hearts Club♡

(Kodzuken lets out a sigh that cuts so deep, it nearly startles his cat off his lap.)

I think I’m being obvious. I probably don’t need to spell it out for you guys. It’s clear as day, isn’t it? I’m fucking in love with my best friend. And I have been for a very long time.

So it pains me to say that I think I’ve made the stupidest mistake of my entire life. Because a week ago, T asked me if I wanted him to be my fake boyfriend.

(Kodzuken drags his hands over his face.)

And I’m pretty sure I said yes.

*

Kenma is so stupid. When did he become so stupid? He’d always thought he was kind of smart, but maybe he’s been stupid this entire time.

five snapped heartstrings

“From the day you are born, you have a countless number of strings wrapped around the ring finger on your right hand. These strings extend out to all of your potential soulmates. As you grow and make choices in life, one by one the strings will slowly begin to fall away until you’re left with one. At that point, your one true soulmate will be waiting for you on the other side.”

-

Kenma was seven, and he was certain of one thing. He wanted Kuroo Tetsurou to be his soulmate.

it's like a summer shower

Kenma’s breath catches at the memory, and then he’s blurting out, “Do you still have it?”

“Have what?”

“…the recipe,” Kenma replies haltingly. A pause. “And maybe some pictures for how it looked all set up.”

“Kenma…” his mother says breathlessly, and he’s honestly not sure if she sounds awed or horrified. “Are you going to attempt to make it?”

-

It's Kuroo's and Kenma's anniversary and Kenma wants to do something different - cook him dinner. He regrets the decision pretty much immediately.

crushed little stars

When Kenma was 13, he swore to himself that he would never, ever get star tear disease.

Three years later, he met Hinata Shouyou.

A purrfect match

"Hi Uncle Tettsun!” Nozomi says without moving an inch. “There's a kitty cat under here."

Tetsurou sighs, adjusting the heavy bag on his shoulder. There's been a dramatic increase in the number of cats hiding under homes or dumpsters or in trees lately, ever since the Kozume family's latest announcement. People have been chasing them down, knowing that whoever takes the key from the royal cat's collar will be allowed to marry the crown prince.

[Five times Tetsurou meets a cat, and one time he meets a human instead].

The Space Between Thinking and Feeling

“She might have assumed that we were dating and I might not have corrected her, yes.”

Kenma’s eyes are caught in a frenzy. Tetsurou isn’t sure why he’s that upset about this specific part of the story. “Why?” Is all Kenma asks.

Tetsurou shrugs. “I don’t know. She invited you to the wedding. I want you to come. It just seemed easy.”

“Dating me seems easy?”

“Pretend dating.”

(OR Tetsurou doesn’t want to go to his mother’s wedding alone. Good thing he has fake-boyfriend Kenma to tag along.)

Wallpaper Heart

Tetsurou walks into their apartment, aware of his feelings for the first time. It’s a weird sensation, like remodeling a house, and finding out there was a hidden door to an extra room behind the old yellowed wallpaper in the hallway. Now that he knows it’s there, he wonders how he ever missed it – wonders when the wallpaper went up in the first place, when it started keeping him out.

(OR Tetsurou's adventures in pining)

even if you're ahead for a bit, i will catch up

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

The Ghost Of The Future Is Awake In The Attic

Sika stags have a whole repertoire of courting behaviour that does not overlap with a human’s flirting one bit.

This, perhaps, should not come as a surprise to Tetsurou.

Or: The one where Kenma is a sika deer shifter, Kuroo isn’t, and Kuroo decides the logical thing to do is to court Kenma. The deer way. Despite the fact that he has no idea how deer shifter courting works.

When the Stars Threw Down Their Spears

"It’s hard to understand the hierarchy when a school like Nekoma exists, putting them all together like they belong, but by the time Kenma enters high school he understands the difference. Kuroo is a black panther, rare and precious; a large predator stronger than most any other foe.

Kenma is a calico housecat. His coloring is uncommon, but he is not special."

Shapeshifter!AU. Kenma struggles with a culture and the rules of courtship.

Ad Astra Per Aspera

The important parts of his life aren’t stored in the cement where he bled out, or among the familiar backdrops of his hometown. Home is curled up on a secondhand couch a few cities away, probably bitterly cursing his guts but still waiting for him to walk through the door.

The city has long since forgotten what happened to Kuroo Tetsurou.

…But Kenma didn’t. Kenma never would.

Kenma’s soul recognizes Kuroo Tetusrou even when his eye does not.

He’s been waiting an eternity for him, after all.

route 51 to your heart has been delayed by 20 minutes

The hottest man Kenma has ever seen shares the bus with him regularly. Under no circumstance is he ever going to do anything about it.

Not intentionally, at least.

Speak Easy, Lie Gently

Kenma’s invited back home to celebrate Christmas. Unbeknownst to him, his parents had invited a guest: his ex-boyfriend.

[devilzukin7-johnny-cage]

Just my opinion about MK1 about what is happening or idk

Disclaimer: I love the series and have been a fan since childhood, so this is just a personal opinion and is not hate at all. My husband lives on this game so I will never hate it XD

From the MK era, NRS has practically shown us a multiverse. Okay, I’m not in love with the idea, but I know they can do cool and interesting things with it.

Honestly, I thought that from here, NRS would explore completely different realities with Mortal Kombat, something much more engaging. But I feel like we’ve just seen more of the same with minor changes that are either insignificant or even negative, making some characters less impactful. It seems like characters don’t get the respect or importance they deserve unless they’re protagonists, and the villains now lack that imposing, threatening presence they used to have. (Examples: Reiko, Shao Kahn, Goro, etc.)

As for the Cage situation, it seemed like Cassie Cage and Sonya were going to return for KP3. And to be clear, I love Sonya, but I still don’t understand why, if they have the opportunity to explore a completely different reality in this new timeline, they would bring back the CageBlade couple. It didn’t work, neither in nor out of the story (although it used to work very well when it was platonic). In fact, talking about story, it’s confusing that Liu Kang would want to pair Johnny and Sonya together again in his timeline, knowing the tragic fate Sonya had in the previous timeline and that Cassie was practically raised by her father alone (context: MKX comics).

Anyway, KP3 was canceled, so none of this really matters now, but still...

Not to mention the skins. Some are amazing, but overall, it feels like all the characters have the same style of outfits. On top of that, many details overshadow the designs, making the cameos look better than the main roster. (This is not about covered or not covered outfits btw, just thinking that kameo designs look better than roster designs because these are more simple and comfortable to look at).

I don’t know. I watch endings and other MK content from the Midway era, and it felt more exciting. Ships existed, yes, but MK was more focused on the main story. Every character was respectable, imposing, and interesting. That has been lost for a large part of the roster. I’m not saying this out of hate—I love the franchise—but this current backlash it’s facing isn’t happening for no reason.

Random pictures of MKSM with no reason hehe

[lightofraye]

for someone who "loves and cares about Jensen" you sure seem to be pretty resolved to believe he is a shitty person.

a douchebag who lies about loving his spouse, a deadbeat father who doesn't give a shit about leaving his kids with an abusive woman, as long as he gets to be far away from her and keep his reputation intact.

a fucking asshole who would leave his fiance at the altar instead of talking about it like a freaking adult before things go too far.

i just don't get it! how can you stan a man that you think is a liar and a backstabber?

you think so low of him, despite of all the testimonies of people who actually know him, who agree that he's a humble guy with both feet on earth, a sweet and kind man who genuinely cares about other people.

but you rather believe he's a piece of garbage who doesn't care about his own children.

just admit you don't really like him and move on.

God, anon, you’re like a dog with a bone. Yeah, I got your asks—twice. You realize you are not entitled to my answer, right? No more than you are entitled to the anonymity of the asks (which I graciously allowed on for now).

But very well. Let’s talk, shall we? I really hope you’re ready for the answers. Because you won’t like them, I guarantee it.

First, I have never said he’s a “shitty person”. You did though! Way to infer the worst from what I written.

I never called him a “douchebag”. You did. I never called him a “deadbeat”. You did. Let’s get that clear right now. You are the one calling him this. Not me.

Yes, he is in fact lying about the stories with his wife. I do think he did care about Danneel at one point, but that affection vanished real fast when her true character came out. He’s staying with her for the kids; I imagine if he divorced her, people would call him a shitty person for ruining a marriage, etc. He wouldn’t be able to win with you all. Not one bit.

He isn’t leaving the kids alone with her though. There’s the housekeeper, gardener, more than likely one or two nannies (because Danneel has never parented alone, ever!). They’re safe as any child can be with that many adults. (And if they’re decent people, if Danneel actually harmed them, NDA or no NDA, they had better speak up!)

I never said he should’ve left Danneel at the alter with no explanation. The hell? Way to infer the worse without any reading comprehension. I did say he had cold feet and thought about not going through with it until his groomsman and his father talked him into it. (In the case of his father, essentially forced him to go through with it.)

I don’t think he’s a liar. I do believe he backstabbed Jared in regards to The Winchesters and am very disappointed in him over it. But that isn’t going to end my support for him.

As for his lying… I actually understand it. I don’t agree with it, but I do understand it. He believes that having a “wholesome family man image” is good for him in Hollywood. Some would agree—were he actually consistent and legitimate with it. He doesn’t even need to do a ton of outings with Danneel; just grab the kids and go to a local theme park. The local family park, for that matter. Hire a photographer to do candids, not posed pictures. Tell genuine stories at conventions, as the gaping holes in them are large enough to drive a semi through it.

As for having to constantly lie about Danneel… do you honestly think his stans would be okay with him calling a “bitch” and “awful wife”? I mean… really? No matter what, he’d be in a no-win situation there.

I don’t think low of him. You inferred that, once again. Instead of making it about Danneel—which every single damned post of mine has been about—you are making it about me and how you perceived/interpreted my writing to be.

In regards to the situation of his children, he’s actually in a rock and a hard place. If you think it’s that easy for a victim of abuse to divorce their abuser when children are involved, you are ridiculously ignorant and need to educate yourself. The worst time in an abuse situation is when the victim tries to leave—the risk of death jumps to 70%. If children are involved, murder-suicides can happen.

So sit the fuck down, quit misinterpreting what I’m saying, and stop thinking you are in any shape or form entitled to my answers.

[rainmustfallts4]

The Cherry Tree (Short Story)

Date: January 5th, 2020

Genre: Friendship, Fluff

Word/Picture Count: 1,747 words/14 pictures

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ☔ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ 🍂 ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Addi smiled brightly as she stepped into Magnolia Blossom park, her eyes scanning the nature around her. Although the pond and the river, and the various flora and fauna were quite nice to look at, she had something else that, in her opinion, was ten times more beautiful; a cherry tree, in full bloom at the beginning of summer.

No matter what emotion she was feeling, she felt happy sitting under the cherry tree. Sometimes, she wondered if its roots were filled with magic.

She paused when she noticed a boy around her age standing beneath the tree, his head tilted back as he looked up at the pink petals. Her head tilted to the side, curiously. Addi had never seen this boy before, not even at school.

Putting on a friendly smile, she approached the boy. “Hey, there!”

He turned to look at her, his expression staying neutral. He didn’t reply.

Her smile didn’t waver. In fact, it grew when she noticed the shirt he was wearing. “You like Deadpool? Me too! He’s the best anti-hero. Although he’s cool in the comics, he’s way cooler in the live-action version.”

He quirked a brow. “You really like him? I’ve never met anyone else that does… Most people say he’s annoying and prefer the heroes.”

Addi scoffed, waving her hand to express her displeasure. “They say that because they can’t understand the genius that is Deadpool. I mean, sure, heroes go around saving people and obeying the laws, whatever. But anti-heroes also save people but they do it in a cooler way! Think about it, how many heroes have put the law above saving people? That’s not how a hero should be. Saving people should come first, ya know? Otherwise, you’re basically just a beefed-up cop.”

His lips twitched up as she ranted on about her beliefs when it comes to heroes and anti-heroes. He had never met anyone, let alone a girl, that had such passion for the same thing he enjoyed so deeply. He thrust his hand out at her, making her pause. “My name is Adrian Webber. I just moved here from Brindleton Bay.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement as he shared the small detail with her. Her hand slid into his, enthusiastically shaking it up and down. “Addisyn Sanders, but you can call me Addi! Welcome to Willow Creek.”

“You know, I was worried about moving. It’s kinda hard to be the new kid in the middle of senior year, ya know?” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It might just be a bit more bearable now…”

Addi laughed, slapping his arm. “You say that now, but I get annoying real fast, ya know?”

Adrian hummed, thoughtfully. “Guess we’ll see, hmm?”

After standing around and debating heroes versus villains for about fifteen minutes, the two teenagers decided to head over and have a seat at the picnic tables to continue their conversation.

“Personally, I don’t think the Joker is actually mentally unstable,” Adrian commented. “I believe he knows exactly what he’s doing and he just wants people to think he’s unstable.”

“Maybe,” she tapped her chin. “But he’s not very relevant anymore. Harley Quinn is the queen of the villains, now!”

He chuckled. “So you’re a Harley fan, then?”

“Totally! After seeing her in Suicide Squad, you’d have to be insane not to love her.”

“Hey, Addi!” Cassandra Goth, Addi’s best friend, approached the two of them, plopping down across from them at the table. “Who’s your friend?”

Addi didn’t miss the way Cass’ eyebrows wiggled as she eyed Adrian. It was clear on her face that she found him attractive and, honestly, Addi couldn’t blame her. He was a teen after her own heart.

“This is Adrian, he just moved here.” Addi introduced. “And this is Cassandra, but everyone calls her Cass. She’s in our year.”

“And Addi’s best friend,” Cass added with a wink. “Nice to meet you, Adrian.”

His smile dropped, but it was so minuscule that neither girl noticed. “Hello,”

“What were you guys talking about, hmm?” Cass raised a brow, pushing up her glasses.

“Superheroes and villains!” Addi grinned, making the ravenette roll her eyes.

“Not that stuff again,” she frowned at her friend before turning to the male. “Sorry about her, she’s totally obsessed with that stuff and once she gets going, it’s like stopping a bullet train.”

Adrian’s lips formed a straight line as his brow furrowed. “Actually, I enjoy it, too.”

“Good, she can gush to you instead of me.” Cass joked, making Addi stick her tongue out at her.

He checked his watch before clearing his throat and standing up. “I’ve got to get home. See you at school?” His eyes met Addi’s and she smiled brightly.

“Of course! See ya~”

After he was a safe distance away, Cass sent her a knowing look.

“What?”

“You totally have a crush on him,” she smirked.

“I do not,” Addi scowled. “We just have a lot in common, is all…”

“Sure, sure~” Cass stood up, brushing off the seat of her skirt. “I gotta get going, too. Bye, Addi.”

“Bye!”

Addi returned home in high spirits, but it wouldn’t last long. Her dad hopped up from the couch when she entered, quickly flicking off the TV. She instantly recognized the nervous look on his face and she felt her heart pick up speed.

“Honey, I need to tell you something.”

Addi frowned. He only called her honey when he was about to say something he knew she wouldn’t like. “What is it?”

“You know I had a meeting with my boss the other night, right?”

She nodded.

“Well… I got a promotion!”

“Dad, that’s awesome!” She threw her arms around him. “You’re one step closer to your dream~”

“Yeah,” he breathed, holding her tightly within his arms. “There’s a catch, though…”

Addi pulled back with a furrowed brow. “And that is?”

“We’re moving to San Myshuno…” He paused a moment for her reaction, but she just stared at him blankly. “Surprise?”

She forced a smile, “That’s great. When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow… you’re not upset?”

“Nah, it’ll be fun! Oh, I should call Cass.” She turned away from him so he wouldn’t see her frown. Her father had been working so hard his entire life to reach his dreams and he had sacrificed so much to keep her happy and provide for her. What right did she have to deny him after everything he’s done? It sucked, but it was the cards she was dealt.

She dialed Cass’s number before pressing the phone to her ear, releasing the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Hey, Cass? I, uhh… I need to tell you something.”

🌸 The 🌸 Cherry 🌸 Tree 🌸

A year had passed since Addi and her dad moved away from Willow Creek and, now that she’s an adult, she has flown from the nest and returned to her childhood home. Naturally, the first place she decided to visit was the park.

Her lips slid upward on their own accord as she breathed in the warm summer air, watching two birds fly from tree to tree as they chased one another. She felt warm and happy being back in her hometown.

To be honest, she wasn’t really expecting to find Adrian under the cherry tree as he had been upon their first meeting, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little hopeful.

Although she missed many things after moving, one thing that often came to her mind was Adrian. Every time the topic of heroes was brought up, his face would flash in her mind and her heart would skip within her ribcage. She didn’t understand it.

They had known each other for only an hour or two, and yet she spent the better part of the year thinking about him, wondering where he was or how he was doing. Did he hate her for disappearing? Had Cass told him about the move? She said she had, but Addi still had to wonder.

She assumed that he probably had a girlfriend by now and was on the path to follow his own dreams. The thought upset her and she didn’t understand why he had such a hold over her.

“What are you doing?”

She looked up at the man staring down at her, a brow raised in question. “Huh, isn’t it obvious? I’m cherry blossom gazing!”

“You’re… what?”

“Ya know, cloud gazing but instead of gazing at clouds, I’m gazing at the beautiful cherry blossoms!”

He hummed thoughtfully. “You must really like cherry trees,”

“I love them!” She grinned before letting it soften to a smile. “Plus… I met someone special here when I was younger.”

“Special?”

“Well, special to me, anyway.” She chuckled, sheepishly scratching her cheek. “I wonder how he’s doing…”

“Addi.”

“I bet he has a girlfriend, too. I mean, he’s gorgeous, how can he not?”

“Addi…”

“Did he move back to Brindleton Bay? He wanted to be a teacher… I wonder if he’s in college.”

“Addisyn.”

“What?” She shot up, staring at him suspiciously. “How do you know my name?”

He quirked a brow. “Have I changed that much?”

“I… what?” Addi hopped to her feet, moving her face close to his as she squinted her eyes, trying to recall who this man was. “No way… Adrian?!”

He nodded.

“Oh my grim, this has got to be some kind of fate or something!”

“Fate? I don’t know about that…”

“It definitely is! I mean, honestly, what are the chances that we’d meet under a cherry tree as teenagers and then again exactly a year later?!”

“I’d save about fourteen percent,”

“It was rhetorical!”

His lips twitched up. “You’re as excitable as ever. I’m glad,”

She grinned, rubbing the back of her head. “Once a goofball, always a goofball!”

“Do you mind if I join your, uhh… cherry blossom gazing?”

“Of course I don’t mind,” With a smile, Addi plopped back onto the grass, with Adrian slowly lying down beside her.

“To answer your questions,” he started softly. “I’m doing well. I don’t have a girlfriend. I stayed in Willow Creek. Yes, I want to be a teacher and no, I’m not in college. I’m working at Rainy Day Entertainment.”

She couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “I’ve missed you,”

Adrian hesitated for a moment before gently grasping her hand in his, their fingers lacing together. “I’ve missed you, too.”

[bunnidid-reviews]

I got the second Elle(s) book today and ofc read it soon as I could

Some thoughts:

- this book focuses more heavily on the inner world exploration, and I found the art to be even more dynamic and lovely in this one

- Blue takes over the host position from the previous book, because of the loss of her aunt and shocking revelation that Elle was adopted as a baby. The whole book is about rose Elle finding her way out of the inner world and back to taking control of her life

- we get a little bit more development on the other parts of Elle, since Rose interacts with them as she’s going through each of the inner worlds. But there’s not a lot there, if I’m honest? They all act like strangers that happen to be dragged into the story rather than parts of your very self who’ve always had a sense of being at least connected to you in some way. Especially since its implied that Elle has ‘had problems with this before’, and she purposefully made these inner worlds for each of them, we as the reader are left confused to how much they actually know eachother.. theres just not much there

- and as for Blue, the one part who’s been looming over both this book and the last, we don’t know much about her either, aside from being manipulative and stealing money and clout off her friends. If she’s supposed to be a persecutor part, she has no obvious drive outside just ~being evil~. (To quote my very own blue-colored persecutory part; “What a lazy bitch”)

- this.. ending..?

(The text reads: Wow! Embryos merged? So that means.. I really am six different people! )

Maybe it’s a problem with translation, but the tone of this picture and text really cuts off any of the built up tension thats been riding throughout the book.

- this book never explicitly mentions DID as being a diagnosis, so it’s more of a concept of multiple personalities being used in a different way…

I’m not someone who’s going to speak on what makes ‘enough’ trauma to create DID, because birth complications and adoption are traumatic, and it’s also not something I have experience with. I can’t speak on how this would feel for people who had twins and lost them for it to be portrayed this way, though. In the book, this is clearly stated to be some sort of Special Unreal Circumstance and I found that.. in weird taste..

-it’s not.. DID. I thought the adventuring through the inner worlds would be more about making honest connections and getting to know these parts of her more fully, but Elle’s journey was really just about pulling herself up by the boot straps and switching back out. She doesn’t really have trauma and this book makes it super clear

-I’m disappointed that there wasnt much time spent with brunette Elle because she really seemed to be grieving honestly in the last book, I thought theyd be helping eachother more. But its.. not reallyyy and its shown as growth anyway

-I like the series but I can’t really take it very seriously. It has the vibes of seeing all the major plot points of someone’s OC stuff without all the extra content that fleshes out the characters.

———

I might just be in a mood because I feel very out of place with my own DID at the moment(I’m usually fairly comfortable, but I think I might be having a DPDR episode), but I’ve been sitting on the Elle(s) series for a good few months now, and I don’t really get any deeper connection

I’ll get the next book anyway and see if any of it ties up more neatly. I know its the artists’ first comic I believe, so maybe theres not so much depth becauseeee offff inexperience. Or translation issues because I believe it came out elsewhere first. I dont know!

O well, enjoy my short review

[xoxnaeeeoxo]

Heyyy guyssss so story timeeeee okay so this is going to be about my FIRST time fully shifting. I’m going to make it as detailed as possible.

Okay so when I had found out about shifting, I didn’t know anything about it (obviously lol). A close friend at the time introduced me to it, and as someone who was already very open minded and also very over this reality I gave it a chance.

I jumped into shift-tok, and found a few creators that were educational and motivating for shifting. Luckily, I didn’t fall into many misinformation holes or the toxic side of shift-tok.

So after getting more familiar with what shifting was, how it was achievable, i immediately started attempting. Was I getting anywhere? At first no. It took me a lot of attempts, reprogramming, and securing my beliefs to finally have a successful shift.

I was basically on the verge of giving up. The day I shifted was actually so horrible lol. I was questioning whether I could do it or not, if everyone was lying, if I was literally not capable of doing it. I was wrong. So the night time came around, i was all ready for bed. I usually just get prepped for it an hour or so before I actually get tired, because it’s easier for me to focus. And because I will 100% choose sleep every time. 😂

But anyways as I was meditating, I was upset and kept thinking “anywhere is better than here right now.” I stayed off of my phone, and only went on my laptop to look at my script/things related to my dr. I created a playlist at the time so that was playing as a well.

(Trust I have a playlist for every Dr and playing it all before shifting or just throughout the day is so motivating.)

Moving on, when i finally felt ready to shift, I laid comfortably on my back. Ive tried other positions, I just found this to be my favorite. I played a low subliminal, and just worked on clearing my mind. I started by thinking/imagining how my whole day would go. Once I felt I was done I would imagine myself in my dr laying down where I planned on waking up. I then did the five senses method, to get myself familiar with where I was going to be. Lastly I started counting. I planned to count to 100 but ended up shifting before I reached 60. Every time I would think of something else I would say an affirmation and return to counting. During this, the counting really does help me reach a void state, so I felt floaty, and the closer I got to shifting the more I felt detached. I didn’t fall asleep it was honestly weird, it was like I was drifting somewhere then a light flashed and one second I was in my cr and then bam next thing I knew I was in my dr.

When I tell you I was shocked. I literally stood up and stood there staring at my hands, I didn’t move or anything just pure shock. After like three minutes of repeating “no way” to myself, I immediately walked around the room. The door was closed and im not gonna go into detail about the room, but just imagine a wwe locker room with a twin sized mattress in the tiny hallway that’s connected to the showers. So anyways after calming down, I picked up my phone and started scrolling. I went through my contacts, social medias, pictures, and notes. Let me just tell you seeing that you have your cc’s numbers and social medias in your phone is literally such an experience.

After I finished looking around the room I did check myself out in a mirror and im gonna be honest I was dancing in the mirror and posing for a few minutes before I walked to the door and held the handle for a few moments. I was terrified but was not gonna chicken out. I opened the door and stepped out. There were referees and others walking down and up the hall. I walked slowly to this opening, it looked like it was to an indoor parking area. I didn’t go to it so I really don’t know, but so anyways I stood in there watching people walk by, I even got greeted by some of the referees and makeup artists. It was awesome and they were so sweet to me. I stood there just taking it all in, when my cc who I SHIFTED for walked through the doors.

My eyes widened, my jaw literally dropped. I froze. 😃 I couldn’t move, and he approached me. I’m gonna admit my cc was in fact Roman reigns. He was tall, taller than I expected but the height that I scripted. HEHEHEHE. So this is how that moment went.

Me: 😦

Roman: *walks up to me smiling*

Me: 😦

Roman: hey

Me: *looks him up and down* 😦…hi…

Roman: *grabs and holds my hands while saying something about missing me *

Me: 😦 im gonna be so honest I cannot hear a word you are saying to me right now.

Roman: uh..alright then..I’ll catch you later yeah?

Me: 😦 no way no way no way no way no way no way no way no way..

I actually started crying, i walked off and started crying. My first thoughts were to tell my friends, mentally I was not the best at the time so I was really overwhelmed and needed my best friends. So I left. I said my safe word. I immediately cried of joy and took some time to myself before I texted and sent voice memos to them as I cried my eyes out 😁 I gotta be real im never going to forget that.

It wasn’t long, but it was a great amount of time for a first time shift I was there for like an hour and a half. Okie dokie I have to hit the hay now so xoxo 🫡

[scarebats]

WIP Wednesday

Pierce My Heart - slicemav

this one has no warnings and isn’t as exciting as the last one, sorry about that (but it’s longer!)

Standing before Ron now, is his customer. Someone who he thinks would look amazing with a tongue piercing, might he add.

He lets himself drag his eyes over the form of the stranger. He’s not very tall, shorter than himself and Tom, atleast. Straight cut jeans that are loose around his shins and calfs work their way up his legs and hug his thighs, Ron hopes that he can catch a glimpse of his ass at some point. Just to see how tight the denim really gets, of course.

His observation is cut short when Tom clears his throat and looks at him expectantly with wide eyes.

“Ron, this is Peter,” Tom introduces the man.

“I prefer Pete, if you don’t mind. Or Mav works, too,” Pete informs them while a bright grin appears on his face that reaches his green eyes.

“Mav? That doesn’t sound like Peter,” Ron asks while gesturing for Pete to sit on the chair.

Pete complies and answers. “Mav is short for Maverick. My friend and I are ex-Navy. His call sign is Goose, and I still call him that. So does his wife.” Tom makes his leave after Pete finishes his ramble, exiting with a warning look that Ron will most certainly tease him for later. Alas, he needs to properly meet this beauty first.

“Huh. Maverick. That sounds like people didn’t necessarily enjoy working with you.” Ron pauses. “No offense intended,” he finishes.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Pete glances down at his name tag. “Ron. I get it all the time. Mostly from Goose and Carole, actually. But I’m pretty sure that they like me.”

Ron nods along as Pete sends himself into another talking fit.

“I mean, I would hope that they can at least tolerate me, because I've known them for, what, like, eight years? I think? Well, I met Goose back in ‘82, and it’s ‘91… No, I’ve known him for nine years.” Honestly, Ron isn’t really listening, just admiring Pete. He talks so animatedly, gesturing his hands for emphasis, eyes wide and sparkling like a cartoon. Ron could watch him talk for hours, that being, he’s this ecstatic when story-telling.

“Then Carole, a little less than nine, I met her after our first deployment. Right at the end of ‘82, in November. And then little Bradley was born in June of ‘84! Can you believe that he’s already seven?” Ron has absolutely no idea who Bradley is.

“I have a picture of him in my wallet, want to see?” Pete barely takes any time to take a breath between sentences before he has his attention on Ron, a grin adorning his beautiful face that’s somehow even brighter and wider than before.

“Sure.”

Pete immediately reaches for his wallet in his front right pocket at the confirmation. Ron thinks it’s quite cute, how excited he is just to show him a picture of his friends’ kid.

(i should probably finish this soon cuz it’s the second time it’s been voted. i hope y’all liked this longer snippet!)

[tameila]

if the story's over, why am i still writing pages.... i am 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Ah, this is an AU that is very near and dear to my heart. It's a high school Pikelan AU based off of this prompt that I answered.

The main premise is that, at the end of junior year, right before summer break, Scanlan wrote a letter of confession to Pike. She did not have the time before he left all summer to answer him, but, honestly? She doesn't know if she would have had an answer even if she'd had all the time in the world.

Now, it's senior year, and Pike is taking a creative writing elective...inspired by a certain letter, mayhaps? and Scanlan is in her class. She keeps trying to confess to him via poem. Scanlan keeps thinking that she's asking him to proofread up until he wrongly assumes that she's writing them for someone else.

It's a whole thing.

Can she properly convey her feelings before high school is over? If she confesses, will it even matter as her and all her friends drift in different directions? Why does anything have to change? Pike doesn't want anything to change.

....It is absolutely on the same level of TSAR in the sense that I'm like,"hehe teehee here's a cute lil teenaged romp" and then once I've lulled you into a false sense of security...WA-BAM!!! The grief of growing up, of "leaving" childhood behind, of loving people so much that you may inevitably lose to distance and time. It won't be your fault. It won't be theirs. That's just life. Why does anything have to change? How do you hold on when there's no way to stop it?

As I mentioned, it's a WIP that I cradle very fondly and that I have mostly plotted out in bullet points.

Here's some scenes:

SCENE FIVE (Homecoming week, mid-October)

In middle school, the girls always went as a group to dances. Then, freshman year, Vex started dating and, since then, has never gone to a dance without a date. Pike would have been happy to just go with Keyleth as a dynamic duo, but Vax asked her. As friends. Though there was a whole drama when apparently he hadn’t wanted to go as friends and Keyleth started dating Kash two weeks after Homecoming. But - That’s a whole other thing. With Vex and Keyleth all dated up, Pike agreed to go as friends with Scanlan when he asked.

Some details about her ridiculous hair she got done and the dress she bought

A sense of childhood being “lost”/”left behind” as they ditched the sleepover and girl’s day that Homecoming used to be

Since then, she’s always gone to any dance with Scanlan as friends. It’s an unspoken agreement. Grog tagging along with them if he’s not currently hooking up with someone.

Pike figured this year would be no different.

A naive thought, in retrospect.

In years before, he’s always asked. Even though they're only going as friends, Scanlan loves the theatrics and planning of The Asking. Still, it's an unspoken thing. Pike assumes he’s just been busy.

The girls went dress shopping over the weekend and Pike sends a picture of her dress to Scanlan. He answers in his usual poetic manner. Pike replies back something about what color bowtie/tie she thinks would look best and Scanlan comes back with: “Oh. We’re going together?”

It’s a whole back and forth.

“You don’t want to go?” “I think there’s somebody else you need to ask.” He sends a few more encouraging texts. Pike throws her phone aside, curls up in bed, and has a good ol’ fashion cry about it. Boys are dumb.

[POEM FIFTEEN]

SCENE SIX (night of Homecoming)

Pike does not ask anyone, and no one asks her. An unsurprising fact. Despite the fact that Scanlan and her have always made it clear that they’re only friends, the rumor mill will say what it pleases. She’s lost out on a couple dates because of it. Like, when she had a crush on that girl in her sophomore year, the one with the colored skinny jeans and colored highlights, who later admitted (long after Pike’s crush had gone) that she’d wanted to ask Pike to the dance but thought she was with Scanlan.

She almost doesn’t want to go anymore, figures she can save the dress for something else, but! Scanlan says he’ll be going, so she goes.

She dresses up, meeting with Keyleth and Vex at Vex’s house. She poses for pictures, alone. Stands awkwardly to the side of her friends as they dance with their dates. She constantly checks her phone. Eventually, she ends up on a stone bench at the front of the school, calling him.

Scanlan says that his mom wasn’t feeling well. He stayed home to take care of her and didn’t think anyone would miss him.

“I always miss you, Scanlan.”

A long, emotionally charged pause.

She says she’ll walk over. Scanlan says he’ll come get her. Pike sneaks out some food and gets into the car when Scanlan rolls up

Pike brushes his hair away from his eyes, taking in his haggard appearance. She asks him if he wants to go get some Dairy Queen sundaes - her treat. Scanlan shakes his head. His mom still needs him back at home. She understands.

Scanlan goes to pull away from the curb but stops one last time to tell her how beautiful she looks. Another pause. Pike almost begs him to just DRIVE, but after another second with no answer, he does on his own.

SCENE EIGHT (Friday before Scanlan’s show?, sleepover)

Keyleth’s house. A bit about Keyleth’s house and living situation.

Some dumb sleepover shenanigans

But also getting real talk. Talking about college. Percy’s guaranteed some full ride to somewhere and a spot in his family’s company. Vex plans to go there too. She dreams about leaving her father’s house and the big fluffy dog she’s gonna adopt when she does.

Keyleth remarks that her and Kash are breaking up. Probably. Differing priorities. She’s not sad, really.

Pike thinks about Scanlan. Even if she tells him how she feels, would they endure? It feels like everything’s moving and changing and they’re all gonna forget about each other.

As they lay there in the dark, quietening, Pike shudders a sob

Keyleth and Vex propose a cuddle pile

Pike doesn’t want them to move on

[blooming-violets]

okay, Marauders fan

Mm nope. Spider-Man fan. Andrew Garfield fan. Supernatural (not the show, the creatures) AU fan. I love werewolves, vampires, witches, ghosts, horror tragic drama romancey shit. I used to love Harry Potter when I was a kid/teenager (I’m in my 30s now) but never got into the fanfic fandom side. I had no idea the Marauders were even a thing besides being Harry’s dad in the books until I joined the AG Spidey fandom two years ago and saw he was a fan cast fav. Think I’ve read exactly one Remus Lupin fanfic since resparking my love for Spidey and it didn’t do anything for me because my hyperfixation is with tasm Peter Parker and not Lupin. I love writing for characters Andrew has actually played with movies I can actually watch for inspiration and not things a bunch of strangers decided to use his face for.

So, no. Not a marauders fan. Not a Harry Potter fan. Loved it when I was kid but it no longer does anything for me apart from make me pissed off and angry. I’m going to state this right now to make sure we are very clear on this subject: I fucking hate JKR. She is a horrific disgusting woman. I do not support her or her vile beliefs. I love and actively support the transgender community and I always will.

Me writing a werewolf story that is using PETER PARKER as the au and using SPIDERMAN characters and SPIDERMAN lore throughout does not equate to me writing a fucking Harry Potter story and I am honestly insulted for being told otherwise. Nothing in my story has the slightest god damn thing to do with or relates to HP and is full of Spider-Man characters and Peter Parker lore and my own take on a werewolf origin story with my own created world around it. Had you actually read it and not just glanced at the picture and assumed that anything Andrew Garfield next to a werewolf must mean Harry Potter fan than maybe you would see otherwise. If it was literally any other actors face there, in any other fandom doing a werewolf au, you would not give a shit. Andrew Garfield was not even in Harry Potter. He has literally nothing to do it. He was in Spider-Man and he did play Peter Parker who is the exact person in writing an au for.

I have wrote multiple aus in the Peter Parker fandom. Last year I wrote a Peter vampire au. Does that mean I’m out to suck Stephanie Meyer or Anne Rices dicks? No. I wrote a Peter serial killer au. Does that mean I want to suck Ted Bundy’s dick? No. Writing a werewolf au is literally no different. I write AUs. It’s what I like to do. Werewolf is just another typical, very popular au throughout fandoms for me to tick off the list. Try actually looking at someone’s work before making judgement calls based off AGs face next to wolf.

Don’t ever call me a Harry Potter fan. It’s 9am and I’m pissed off. Have a good day, dammit!

[canyouhearthelight]

Leather Houses, Chapter 2

I'll be honest, I planned to post this a week after the first chapter because, although I didn't get the views I was hoping for, my sibling specifically asked for the rest.

So, here is Chapter 2 of 4. Trigger warnings are "literally anything that would pop up on an r/NoSleep story. Because that is actually what this was originally written for, honestly.

That night, we tried calling the county sheriff’s office, Sanderson being too small for their own police force. However, when they tried to look up the missing people in the DMV database and came back with nothing, all we ended up with was a thoroughly irritated deputy who thought we were on drugs, and a dial tone.

Months passed, and it happened six more times.  Sometimes it was an entire family, sometimes it was just one person. The worst was the Jacobson family: Issac was still there, but Sara and the kids didn’t exist anymore, and Issac didn’t remember them.  Like all the rest, for some reason Joanie and I were the only ones who recalled anything different from the current version of Sanderson, and we were quickly left feeling like the walking wounded from all the mourning we had to hide from everyone else.

The first major break - if you could call it that - was the seventh disappearance.  As I had become accustomed to, I woke up that morning and braced myself to find out who didn’t exist anymore.  There was no way I could have prepared myself for what would greet me when I left for work.

The house next door was no longer a typical, cookie-cutter mirror of my own.  Instead, it was covered entirely in what looked like leather.

I didn’t even realize I was staring until I heard my coffee cup smash on the concrete of my driveway.  Nonetheless, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.  I carefully stepped over the shards at my feet and made my way, slowly, to the porch.  The sight in front of me turned my stomach… all that skin, everywhere.  Even the windows seemed to be made of flesh, stretched to its most translucent limits but still crossed with veins.  The urge to revisit my breakfast became stronger the closer I got to the structure.  It was when my foot touched the bottom step of the… home… that I realized it wasn’t the normal fear and disgust I would experience at the sight before me.  In that moment, the revulsion I felt became so powerful and so clear that I realized it wasn’t coming from within my own mind.

The house was pouring those feelings into me.

I gritted my teeth and forced my way up to the door, each step doubling the urges being forced into my body.  Finally, I stood in front of the threshold, hand raised to knock.  However, before my hand could come into contact with that disgusting structure, I was overcome.  I don’t recall anything after raising my hand to knock, up until I was standing on the sidewalk, vomiting.

After the dry heaves subsided, I staggered inside to rinse my mouth and call my boss to explain that I wouldn’t be in today.  As soon as I got off the phone with work, I immediately shot a text to Joanie.

Me: Shit just got weirder.

JoanieBug: What happened now?

I shot a photo of the house next door and tried to send it to her.  However, it was blurry and just looked like a skin-tone smear.

JoanieBug: Very funny, sending me a picture of your thumb. We have real shit going on, Mike.

Me: That’s not my thumb, J.  That’s the house next door.

I waited for her reply, refusing to look out the window again.  Instead of a text message, five minutes passed before I heard a car pulling into my driveway.  Peeking around the curtains, I saw that it was her and rushed out before she could start screaming.  By the time I got to her car, she was already out and staring at what had seemingly replaced my neighbors’ house.

She didn’t scream like I expected.  Instead, she gaped for a few moments before whispering. “Does anyone remember your neighbors?”

Fuck. I hadn’t even thought about that.  Having learned from previous vanishings, I pulled out my phone to check property records instead of trying to call anyone else.  Sure enough, there was no record of anyone having owned that house, despite the fact that I knew a family with three little girls had lived there yesterday.  Without realizing it, I stepped away from the horrible building as I did further searching.  Josh and Tammy Scott no longer existed online, either.  I even tried tracking down photos I remembered seeing in the paper when the girls were born - in a small town, triplets were big news - and found nothing.  Photos from neighborhood cookouts were the same, except no trace of the Scott family.

“They’re gone.” I bit back a sob. “How long is this going to go on for?” I begged.

“I don’t know,” she whispered as she ushered me into my house and yanked all the curtains to cover any window facing the leather house.  “Do you think that happened to the other houses?”

“Maybe?  I haven’t exactly checked.  I didn’t know where any of the others lived, except the Jacobsons.”

“But Issac is still here,” she pointed out.

I tapped my chin with my phone, still fighting back tears. “But does he still live in the same place? I just assumed he did. I never actually thought to check.”

It was Joanie’s turn to whip out her phone and start searching.  A few minutes later, her head snapped up and she looked at me. “Issac and Sarah had that house built a couple years ago, right?  After Davey was born?”

“Yeah.  Bigger house, big yard so the boys could play.”

“This says Issac lives in his parents’ old place, over on Riverside.”

I shook my head. “Fuck. We have to see if this is related.”

“Mike!” she shouted. “People are being erased from reality, and everything is patched all nice and neat so it’s like they never existed.  Now, it happened to your neighbors with a creepy-ass side of the house is now covered in skin, and you really think it might not be related!?” Her voice hit new octaves of hysteria before she pulled herself together. “You are being deliberately obtuse.”

I held up my hands defensively. “No, Joanie, I’m not. I am being overly cautious and want to confirm, with absolute certainty, that there is not some, second insanely nightmarish thing happening in Sanderson.”

“The universe can’t be that cruel.”

“The universe can certainly be that indifferent,” I grumbled. With a sigh, I stood up and grabbed my keys.  As I shoved them in my pocket, I reached under the sink for a grocery bag before filling it with several sodas and half a bag of chips.  “Let’s just drive around and see what we find.  We have to take your car… I told Greta I was sick.”

With minimal complaints, Joanie stuffed some more snacks into another bag and we headed out.  We cruised through every residential area, down every road.  By the end of the day, we had found four more houses like the one beside mine, one of which was a huge, imposing mass sitting where the Jacobsons’ home formerly stood.  Other than the Scotts and the Jacobsons, it was impossible to be sure that those houses belonged to the ones who were erased, but since those were the only two families of which we were completely sure where they lived when they still existed, it was enough to support the idea.

__________________________________

After the Scotts went missing, Joanie and I traded off crashing at each other’s house.  Neither of us wanted to be alone, and there was a comfort in being close to the only other person who could recognize what was going on in Sanderson.  In time, we established a routine - whoever woke up first each morning checked the town website for any changes in population.  In theory, that number should only change once a year, when property taxes were updated, along with a more precise figure being updated every ten years when the official census was done.

We were seeing the population drop every couple of weeks at first, and soon it was weekly.  While trying to see who was missing in a town of even 500 was a daunting task, we at least knew to brace ourselves for more changes that resulted from having our friends and neighbors seemingly erased from history entirely. Both of us considered leaving, but things progressed too quickly - and too weirdly - for us to make much of a plan.

Each day, we saw more and more houses in Sanderson turn into leather.  We learned that, as long as we came no closer than the sidewalks, the revulsion did not touch us, and at no point did anyone else in town seem to notice.  It was infuriating at times: by this point, dozens of houses were crafted from flesh and garnering about as much notice as an ant crossing the road.

The morning that I woke to find not just one, but four more houses around mine changed, the next alarming piece of information struck.  I was about to call sick to work, too scared to leave my house, when my phone rang just as I was unlocking it.

It was Joanie.

“Hey, Joanie bug,” I answered, only to be cut off.

“All of my neighbors are gone,” she stated, by way of greeting me.  By this point, she was in full crisis mode, and cooler than an ice cube.

“Mine too….” I trailed off, glancing out of my windows again as something nagged at the back of my mind.

“Fuck,” she swore. “That’s more than we’ve seen vanish at once, so far.  By a couple of orders of magnitude.”

I did some counting. “That’s nine houses, yeah.”   There was something significant about this.  Not just the escalation, but it had to do with the people missing around Joanie’s house.  “I’m going to call out from work - “ Click. “Oh, fucking hell. I may not have a job.  Greta lived across from you and one down, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, Mike.  That’s why I was calling…” Joanie sighed, resigned to what was going on, even if we still didn’t understand it. “I’m so sorry.  She sounded like a good boss.”

I swallowed as hard as I could. “Let me call you back.  I need to find out what this changes.” I disconnected and quickly called work. At least the company still existed.

“Holhouser Medical Technology, Sarah speaking,” a receptionist I didn’t recognize answered.

“Hey, this is Michael Andrews.  I… I’ll be honest, I don’t feel well and I need to go see a doctor,” I lied. “I think I work there, and if I do, I need to speak to my boss to let them know I won’t be in today.”

“Oh, Mr. Andrews,” Sarah sounded surprised. “Um.. Well.  Yes, I think you need to go see a doctor.  Thank you for calling, it was very conscientious of you, but… Sir, you haven’t worked here in five years.”

What? “I - I haven’t?” I didn’t have to pretend to be confused. Greta had originally recruited me, so to find out I still ended up working there, but hadn’t in several years, was curious.  “I work in IT, don’t I? I mean, didn’t I?”

“Yes sir, but… I think you need to speak to Dr. Collins.  He asked us to direct you to him whenever this happens.”

“And this has happened before,” I slowly ventured, trying to understand what had changed.

“This is the fourth time, Mr. Andrews,” she confirmed gently.  “Dr. Collins can explain why.”

“I…” I needed answers, is what I needed. “I don’t remember a Dr. Collins… Can you give me the number?”

“Of course.” Sarah sounded relieved.  She gave me the number for a Greg Collins and wished me a good day.

Greg Collins.  I didn’t recognize the name.  To my knowledge, there was no one with the name Collins in Sanderson.  Along with several disappearances so far, we had something else. Someone new had been added to our town.  Even before people started disappearing and those grotesque… things… replaced the houses in town, it was rare for anyone to move to Sanderson.  Cautiously, I texted Joanie.

Me: Do you know of any Dr. Collins?

JoanieBug: Who the fuck is that?

Okay, I wasn’t the only one who had never heard of this person.  I sent the details of my conversation with Sarah and set my phone down to grab a drink while she read and digested the information.  I was halfway through my glass of milk when my phone started buzzing furiously.

JoanieBug: There has never been a Greg Collins in Sanderson, I would remember. But I looked him up, and sure enough, he has a practice here in town.  According to everything I can find, he’s had that practice for years.

JoanieBug: I even called.  They have my file, apparently Doc Collins has been my doctor most of my life.  Probably yours, too.

I dropped my phone again, struggling to draw a full breath. Something was casually re-writing reality, one piece at a time.  Was this only happening in Sanderson?  What if the entire world was like this? A whooshing, screaming noise pounded into my ears. Part of my mind registered the distant buzzing of my phone, but I was too busy sliding to the floor. My chest ached with fear, my head spun while I tried to force oxygen into my lungs.

There is no telling how long I sat there, but the next thing I was aware of outside of my fear was a stinging pain across the left side of my cheek. My head snapped up to see Joanie, her hands holding me by the temples.

"Did you just slap me?" I asked stupidly. When she rolled her eyes, I gaped. "Joanie! What the hell!?"

"Excuse me for being more focused on the fact that you were purple,” she groaned. “At least you aren’t hyperventilating anymore.”

I rubbed the spot on my chest and throat that still ached, realizing she was right. “Did you hear that noise when you came in?”

“All I heard was you.”

“No, it sounded like… a train, or a tornado.”

To my horror, she started laughing. “Mike, that was you, trying to breathe. You had a panic attack.”

“And you slapped me!?”

“I tried to talk you down, but you couldn’t hear me.”

“You slapped me.” 

“Michael Joshua Andrews. Yes, I slapped you. Now, focus. Please. Doctor Collins, who appeared out of literal nowhere. An accident that didn’t happen, but apparently put you out of work with full pay five years ago.”

"I don't even know what the accident was," I tried.

"Well, no," she accepted. Abruptly, she stopped and stared at me, eyes wide. "Because there was no accident."

"That's what I'm trying to say - "

She shook her head furiously and grabbed my shoulders. "Mike. There was no accident. Even if something changed that tells everyone else that you're on disability or workman's comp, or whatever, you aren't suddenly crippled. And for you to be on full pay, it should have been awful."

Joanie was right. Whatever cover story was created when Greta vanished, it involved a horrible accident that was fully the fault of the company. I should be completely unable to work, but nothing was wrong. "That means they - it - the thing or person behind this… can't actually affect us." I trailed off. "Is that why we aren't forgetting everyone?"

"Could be, but focus." She handed me a beer that I didn't notice her grabbing. "We need to talk to Collins, and you actually have a plausible reason."

After a brief flurry of phone calls, I had an appointment that afternoon to speak with my theoretical doctor. “Joanie, I should be back by five. If I’m not, come looking for me. Raise hell, go full on ‘grieving widow’, I don’t care - “

“Ew!” she muttered. “Wrong equipment.”

“Like anyone is going to remember that,” I argued half-heartedly. “Fine. Grieving sister. Just make a loud, over the top ruckus if they try to prevent you from seeing me or passing me a message, okay?”

“Can do.” She saluted me. “Just make sure you get as much information as you can, okay?”

“I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” I agreed under my breath. “Hopefully, I’ll get some banal explanation and be back at the Tangerine Nightmare by five, five thirty at the latest.”

After getting off the line, I punched the address into my GPS. Ignoring the fact that the address showed as saved under ‘Dr. Greg’, I made my way there with time to spare for my appointment. From the outside, it looked like what I expected from a doctor’s office: nondescript building, discreet but visible signage, “no smoking” signs everywhere.  I walked in, only to behold a pretty nondescript waiting room, complete with the news and weather channel on a TV in the corner and magazines from roughly a month ago spread neatly on a table.

Making my way to the reception window, I signed in.  Glancing around, I saw a bleach-blonde woman I didn’t recognize.  She took the clipboard and smiled at me. “Thank you, Mr. Andrews. Dr. Collins is expecting you, so go on back.” When I hesitated, she tipped her head. “Left hand door, second exam room on the left.”

Thanking her, I made my way back.  At first, it seemed pretty routine: a woman I had never seen in my life took my vital signs, asked a few questions, then left me with a cheerful explanation that the doctor would be in to see me shortly. So far, so good.

After about ten minutes, a man in a white coat entered the exam room.  He had solid gray hair, brown eyes, and a vaguely middle aged face - somewhere between a stressed out forty and a youthful sixty. “Hey, Mike. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m Dr. Gregory Collins. Does that ring any bells?”

I was honest. “Not really, but I think that’s why I’m here.” I didn’t mention that Dr. Collins not existing when I woke up this morning was part of that. Let him believe what he wanted.  I just wanted answers.

He seemed somewhat satisfied with this, nodding his head. “Have you had any conversations or seen anything out of the ordinary? Any odd hallucinations?”

“I wouldn’t say they were hallucinations,” I admitted. “I mean, someone else has seen them as well, despite how weird they seem to be. So, I know it’s real.” I paused, and he nodded for me to continue. “Houses, made out of skin, I think?” I played dumb, no mentioning the related disappearances. “They pulse and breathe like they’re alive, but they can’t be, right?”

“Of course not,” he responded, tone soothing and even. He walked behind me, out of my line of sight.  Shortly, I could feel him pressing a stethoscope against my back, and took deep breaths automatically.

“One of them is right next to my house,” I admitted, although I wasn’t sure why I told him that.

“That has to be distressing,” he acknowledged.  When he crossed back into my field of vision, he had a bottle of something yellow and a syringe.

“Doc…” I started hesitantly. “What is that?”

“Just the usual, Mike. Nothing to worry about.”

“And what, exactly, is the ‘usual’?”

The bastard actually chuckled. “It doesn’t matter, Mike. You never remember, anyway.”

“Never remember WHAT?” I started panicking, and moved to stand up.

He pushed me back on the exam table with one hand. “Shhhh. It’s okay.” He glanced at the door and jerked his head to whoever was standing outside.  I felt cool, iron grips holding my wrists down.

“What do you mean, I ‘never remember’, you son of a bitch!?” I shouted, struggling futilely against the hands holding me down. Jesus fuck, how many people did he have come in here?

A stinging pain erupted near my armpit. I looked down just in time to see a needle being pulled out.  To my horror, it looked several inches long - long enough to pierce a lung, or even my heart.  I struggled sluggishly against whatever he just injected me with, trying in vain to stay awake.  My vision blackened around the edges.  My hands and feet started to feel warm and numb.  I couldn’t even scream, since every noise I tried to make came out as a slurred moan.

I could barely see out of the dim centers of my vision as I heard Dr. Collins one last time. “This one keeps resetting, and we don’t know why.  Make sure he doesn’t disrupt the program.”

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[farie-insignias]

Revised Chapter 18 of AE

Hi everyone! I hope you're doing well!!!! Yes, I'm still alive.

The following post will address the topic of SA - just to warn you, so if you have any triggers, please be mindful when reading.

After thinking about it for several, several months, I’ve decided to go back and rewrite part of Chapter 18: Photographic Evidence – namely, the section dealing with Caroline’s trauma. There are several reasons for this and I’ll list them below.

Firstly, I just didn’t like how I handled the subject matter. When I set out to write this story I had no intention of ever addressing the subject of sexual assault in any concrete way. I mean, it’s a stark and terrible reality of the world that many woman, unfortunately, have to deal with, and I knew I might brush against it as I painted a picture of Bonnie’s experiences in 1864, but I had no intention of diving any further into it than that. That simply wasn’t what this story was going to be about, and I know writing about a character that has gone through something like that should be done with thoughtfulness and respect.

So, why did I even bother trying in the first place?

I’ve responded to a few reviews asking me this very question, and the answer is pretty simple: timing. That’s what it boils down to. Just as I was gearing up to write the moment between Caroline and Bonnie, a video started making the rounds on Tumblr. It was of a woman talking about the media’s representation of assault culture and how it needed to change, and I believe she even used Caroline as an example of this – how all she does is shove Damon and call him a jerk in response to remembering that he assaulted her.

Some of you old hats might remember which video I’m talking about.

It was an interesting video, very well articulated points – and suddenly I felt very unsure about how I wanted to handle the Caroline/Bonnie scene I was about to write. Personally, even to this day, I don’t really think about a vampire’s compulsion in terms of how it would function in the real world – though that could make for an interesting exploration and for a very gritty and grounded series. Basically, I don’t think too deeply about the realistic consequences of a vampire using their naturally given powers – especially on a show like The Vampire Diaries. Maybe if this were The Walking Dead or Game of Thrones, I might have thought about it more, but…

As it was, I started to wonder: was I a part of the problem? Should I be addressing this? Would it be wrong of me to ignore it? Do I really believe Caroline views what happened to her in those terms?

If Caroline existed in the real world, I would say a thousand percent yes. But the Caroline in The Vampire Diaries? No, I honestly don’t think she does. I don’t think ANY of the characters do. For exactly the same reason as the young woman was addressing in the video: none of the writers saw it as sexual assault.

Which left me in a weird position – did I go along with the established portrayal of Caroline (which would be the easy thing to do) or did I bite the bullet and talk about what was on everyone’s mind at the time? Tbh, I wasn’t convinced I should touch it, because I deeply believe that sexual assault isn’t something that should be marginalized in a story and, if it’s going to be addressed it needs to be at the forefront.

But I also believe in signs from God… And a video popping up, just when you’re about to write a character’s perspective on another character, talking about the very same said character and how their justified hatred for other said character has been watered down… I mean, it seemed like a pretty clear sign to me.

In the end, we know what I chose. It simply felt like it would be wrong of me to try and sweep it under the rug. So, I took a swing at it… and I missed.

I got an extremely insightful review from someone named Miss 45 that really helped me realise how far off the mark I was with my attempt. I am eternally grateful to this person, because I now know what to avoid doing if I ever tackle this subject matter again in the future.

They also said, and I quote – “Tbh, when I think about bamon as a ship I usually pretend that it didn't happen bcs I can't imagine Bonnie ever doing that to Caroline […]”

And they are completely right! Especially looking back, I can see that now. The only reason I could write the scene and have it turn out fairly acceptable was because I was focused on Bonnie’s experiences/emotions and not Caroline’s – which was selfish of me as a writer. At the time, I had thought I had addressed the issue, but I really hadn’t. At least not in a way that represented Caroline’s trauma realistically.

So, I made a promise to myself and to Miss 45, that when I did address the issue again, as I was planning to at least once or twice more, I would do a better job.

Which brings us to where we are now, because the closer I get to talking about what happened to Caroline again and how it affects, not only her, but also Bonnie/Damon’s potential relationship… I realize there is no feasible way to do it and stay true to the characters/have a happy ending.

I’ve been wracking my brain about it for ages now. If I want to honestly do a good job, I realize I would have to dedicate far more of the story than I’m willing to on the subject of Caroline/Damon.

And not just because, if I’m being true to Bonnie, she wouldn’t be able to write off what Damon did to Caroline for her own happiness, no matter what Caroline said (which realistically Caroline wouldn’t want her doing either – who would want that?). But Damon wouldn’t be able to forgive himself either.

I honestly, with every fiber of my being, don’t believe Damon views what he did as sexual assault. Which is not to excuse him, but his understanding of the situation is definitely not objective. If he ever did come to understand the full extent of his actions I think that knowledge would destroy him. He’s a lot of things – proudly a monster who will cross many a line, but I can’t imagine he would ever cross that one. At least, not knowingly. So, if his perception of himself and his actions were to change so fundamentally, and in such a negative way… if he were to see himself fully for what he actually is and what he actually did... He already has issues with self-hatred…

Yeah, all the Damon scenarios in my head got pretty dark, pretty quickly.

I realized that if I wanted Bonnie and Damon to have any chance of being together, Damon would have to go on a very long journey towards recovery – which completely changed what the story was about and was something I wasn’t willing to do.

So, in order to tell the story I originally set out to tell, I made the decision to retcon Caroline and Bonnie’s forest conversation in Chapter 18 and make it into something that better serves the purposes of the story as a whole. *deep sigh* I’m not 1000% happy with this decision, but I do believe it’s the right decision to make. I think the story will, ultimately, be stronger for it.

I hope this doesn’t upset anyone. I understand if people think I’m being cowardly or even selfish for deciding not to pursue the topic anymore (and I would agree with you completely). I feel it would take a far more educated, sensitive and talented writer than myself to be able to do that particular storyline justice in the story I’m setting out to tell. But I’ve learned a lot from this experience that I plan to take with me into the future.