#because y'all can be so mean to people who are just trying to spread a little joy

[lovethisfatcryptid]

I understand people have body image issues but like. It's kinda rude to call someone a liar and a bunch of names for telling you you're pretty. Like. It's not up to you what other's see when they look at you. It's fine if you don't see what they see but being mean to people is uncalled for. You don't even have to say thank you. Just don't be mean.

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in Your Fire (pt2)

Summary: Y/n goes into the the Cauldron, and ends up in Velaris. A strange place with a sentient house and hopefully some new friends. Y/n much navigate what being fae means for her now.

Pairing: Future Eris x Reader ! Eris is in this chapter y'all! It's not much haha I'm dragging it out !

Word Count: 4,900

Notes: I'm so glad people liked the first chapter and I hope you stick with me to see where this story goes ! I wanted to get to know the reader a bit more, and have interactions with the other characters to add depth to the story and who the reader is so that she's not just some rando haha Please comment your thoughts and opinions, I love hearing what you liked about it so I can try to make each chapter better than the last ! Hugs <3

Find part 1 here

Her life flashed before her eyes as the Cauldron scanned through her every memory, as if in search of an answer, but she didn’t know what the question was. All she felt was cold. As the Cauldron raked through images of their mother and her neglect as Feyre and Y/n did whatever they could to get her attention. Even if she was yelling at them, it was better than being ignored. It took Y/n a long time to realize that Nesta wasn’t ‘lucky’ for having all their mothers’ attention. The cold continued to settle into her bones as she watched her mother get sick and their father fall deep into depression after losing his fortune. Flashes of what she had to do with the baker’s son to feed the family some weeks, of Feyre being taken away by Tamlin, of Nesta looking so hopeless as they searched for their sister, and finally of tonight, being taken from their home in the night, the pain of her sister’s faces and the fear that shot through her as her toes touched the Cauldron’s edge. Deeper and deeper the water soaked through her too thin nightgown, into her skin, and settled in her bones. the water the warm when she first touched it, but as she felt herself drift further toward the bottom, an icy cold took over her senses.

At last, a flicker of warmth ran through her as memories played of watching Feyre, Nesta, and Elain try to fit into the too small bed of the cabin as Y/n curled up right in front of the fireplace, laughing at her sisters bickering for space and urging Nesta to move her cold feet away from them. Eventually, her sisters stopped bickering and they too started laughing. Those were the glowing moments of joy they were able to find in the darkest times. The warmth in her body spread as the next memory played; the four of them dancing around a bonfire in the late Summer, early Autumn. Laughing and dancing like idiots because Y/n was able to convince the baker’s son to sneak her a cake. They hadn’t had a real cake, with icing and candles, in years, but she had seen it through the window and knew she needed to share it with her dearest sisters. The leaves were just starting to change color and the warm fire light casted the already orange and red leaves in the most stunning light.

The last memory that played was the night that Nesta brought home paints for Feyre. In the low light of the evening fire, Y/n begrudgingly gave up her spot directly in front of the flame so that Feyre had the best light to paint in. She painted their tiny dresser drawers with something to symbolize each of them. Nesta had her own dresser, full of the beautiful-and large-dresses their mother used to make her wear. Nesta requested her dresser be painted black. Simple, but a bold sentiment. Y/n’s drawer, of course, was painted with flames. It was a well known fact to everyone who met her that Y/n was drawn to the heat and comfort of fire. Sweet Elain’s drawer was painted in the flowers she loved to tend in the rather pathetic gardens. And for a reason she didn’t understand at the time, Feyre painted her drawer with the night sky. Dazzling stars and a bright moon to look down on her wherever she may be.

Y/n’s chest started to glow at that memory and finally she felt warm again, seeing that dingy old cabin, that fireplace lit, and the lives it made brighter, warmer, safer.

A sudden rush of the Cauldron’s freezing water had Y/n gasping for air that was no where to be found. She wasn’t drowning, but she wasn’t breathing either. She was stuck in this terrible, dark, cold place and feeling like all was lost. So, she spoke into the void, “you may take my body and soul, as long as you promise to watch over my sisters. Keep them safe and happy and whole.”

“Your eldest sister took something from me. Something very dark and very important. You are in no position to make a bargain for her safety.” The voice came as a harsh whisper that sounded like death itself. “I will get back what she took, and more, but I haven’t met a being a very long time who was willing to give. For that, I will reward you. What gift I have bestowed upon you, you must find out for yourself. It will either breathe life into what you love most… or suffocate it.”

With those final words spoken straight into her heart, Y/n felt the world shift as she was dumped from the Cauldron, back onto the ice-cold stone floor, soaking wet. The King of Hybern’s magic lifts just enough for Feyre to rush to her and cling to her like life depended on it.

The following events at Hybern will be scarred into Y/n mind for the rest of her newly immortal life. Lucien's painful screaming that Elain was his mate, the human queen going into the Cauldron and coming out old and decrepit because of what Nesta stole from it, Tamlin demanding that the King break the bond between Feyre and Rhysand, and Feyre saying that Rhys had her under a spell all this time.

If it weren’t for their relationship as twins seeming to strengthen now that they were both Fae, and for Feyre’s daemati powers, Y/n would have freaked the fuck out. Lucky for them all, Feyre explained the whole plan, albeit almost too rapidly for Y/n to understand given what she just went through in the Cauldron. Y/n played along and acted disgusted by Rhys and horrified as he winnowed her away. The cry of her sister's name was not forced or faked.

When they landed in what she could only assume was the Night Court, a beautiful female with eerie silver eyes and black hair came rushing around the corner. “Where is she?”

Rhysand explained everything. Only after calling for his best healers to help Cassian and Azriel. By the time he finished, Mor appeared after hiding Y/n's sisters away somewhere that they could rest and process.

“She is your mate, not your spy. Go. Get. Her.” The one with silver eyes, Amren, demanded.

“She is my mate. And my spy. And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.” Rhysand said softer, but not weakly.

“What?” Mor gasped.

Rhysand explained it all, and finally said, “Your High Lady made a sacrifice for her court, and we will move when the time is right.”

“Until then?” Amren asked sharply.

“Until then,” Rhysand spared each of them a glace, “we go to war.”

Mor showed Y/n to her room, told her to ask the house for whatever she needed, and that she should rest for as long as she needed. And that they were all here for her when she was ready to come out.

The first thing Y/n asked the house for was a fire to be lit. She was ready to get on her knees and beg for the heat of it, but when the house responded immediately, Y/n let out a sob and threw herself on the floor in front of the large hearth. She sat with her legs tucked under her, staring into the dancing flames as tears streamed down her face and choked sobs rocked her body. She stared into the blaze. Fire, she thinks, looks alive but is not. It dances and sways in the phantom wind and dries the tears that had long stopped coming. Y/n wished she could climb straight into the inferno and wrap it around herself to make her bed. For a moment she wonders if her new Fae body would allow such a thing, before she grabs a plush red dyed wool blanket, and a soft enough throw pillow from the couch, and she curls up in front of the glowing heat and sparkling embers. Right where she feels the safest and most at home.

Y/n slept off and on for four days if she’s been keeping track of time correctly. The house delivered food, that at first, she was hesitant to touch, because what does a house know about cooking? But once she got hungry enough to try the steaming soup and heavily buttered bread it delivered for dinner on night two, she ate her words. Literally. The house quickly learned that Y/n preferred black tea and something sweet to eat at breakfast, something light and fresh for lunch, and a hearty dense dinner. The fire had remained lit since the first night, when the house thought it would be okay to let it die out once Y/n fell asleep, and Y/n woke up screaming and shaking, nightmares plaguing her. The fire had not gone out again. Not even a flicker.

Y/n was feeling rested and eager to learn if there were any updates about her twin in the Spring Court. She needed to know if Feyre was okay. When she swung the door of her bedroom open, Rhysand was standing there, smirking, looking like he knew every thought in her head.

“I’ll need to teach you about mental shields.” His smirk grew, “you’re just as bad as Feyre was when she first got here, practically shouting your thoughts. I could probably hear you from the house of wind.”

Y/n blinked at him. Sure, she knew that Feyre’s daemati powers allowed her to speak into people’s minds, but to just openly heard other’s thoughts? How miserable that must be.

Rhysand gaped for a fraction of a second after hearing her thoughts, before his brows furrowed. “You- you’re not angry or afraid about the invasion of privacy?”

“I mean, would I prefer you not listen? Sure, but you just said you’d teach me to block you out, so really, I just feel bad for you both. I never want to know what’s going through other’s heads. That’s their business and it probably gets gross and annoying.”

There’s a silent pause before Rhysand throws his back and laughs, “It does get gross, and annoying,” He straightens again and says, "thank you, Y/n. Not many understand that or think about how it feels for us.”

“So then you probably already know that I was about to come find you and ask about Feyre?”

“Yes. Let’s talk about it once you’ve had a bath and change into clean clothes. Have you been sleeping and living in that for four days?” He eyes her absolutely filthy, no longer white, nightgown that she had been wearing when the Hybern soldiers took her.

“Yes. Yes, I have, Rhysand. But I will take that bath and clean clothes. I smell like the deer I killed the day we first met.” Y/n’s face scrunched at the memory of the stench that she never got used to, even after all those years of hunting with Feyre. “I’d say I would come find you, but you’ll probably know exactly when I’m ready.” She winked and tapped her finger to her temple before turning on her heel back into her room. The house must have been listening, because a hot bath was waiting for her in the bathing chambers. Soaps and oils that smelled like pine and cedar, a crackling fire, and the forest after it rains. Y/n had never smelt anything so lavish. Never smelt anything that captured the feeling of home so thoroughly.

Ridding herself of the disgusting nightgown, Y/n went to dip a toe in the steaming water and stopped. It felt so much like the Cauldron. But Y/n, like always, reminded herself to be adaptable. She was fine. This room was nothing like that place. This place had bright windows that lit up the room. She could see the bottom of the tub, nothing like the dark mirky waters she was forced into. She was fine and she was safe. Y/n prided herself on being able to choke her feelings down. She thought that if she could intellectualize her feelings, they wouldn’t be able to control her. It hadn't come to bite her in the ass yet. She calmed her racing heart, and plunged into the hot water and washed herself clean of the memories using the soaps that smelled like home. Those smells soothed her soul like a balm and she started to feel like herself again.

After taking her merry time in the tub, the house keeping the water hot as long as she needed it, Y/n stood and grabbed a towel from the vanity in the corner of the room. Y/n hadn’t looked at herself in the mirror yet, but figured now was as good of a time as any. She sat on the round cushioned stool and slowly lifted her head. She tilted her head back and forth, examining the subtle changes that suddenly made her Fae. She tucked her hair behind her ears to reveal the exaggerated, but soft, pointed ears. Smiled at herself to get a look at the elongated canines, and noticed how bright and sharp her eyes looked. She didn’t have her twin’s steely blue eyes, her father said she had his mother’s eyes. Y/n looked into her own y/e/c eyes and just blinked a few times. She was most definitely Fae now. And she would adapt.

Getting dressed quickly, Y/n stepped into the hall to find Rhysand, already waiting for her. He examined her loose, flowy brown pants, and the soft grey seater she chose. “No Night Court black?”

She tripped over her own foot at the words, “oh- oh no, I’m sorry, I’ve offended you. I’ll go change-!

“No! No, Y/n stop,” he gently griped her arm to prevent her from running back in her room. “It didn’t even occur to me that you might feel comfortable in something else. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He tilts his head, so their eyes meet.

“I just feel better in colors that remind me of the woods we grew up in. It makes me feel like myself in their new, strange body and this new world we’ve been brought into. I did not have any intention of disrespecting you or your home, Rhysand.”

“Please, Y/n, call me Rhys. We are family now, right? Humans would call us, ‘in-laws’?” His smile grew as Y/n’s lips twitched into their own smile, his hand dropping from her arm.

“Of course, Rhys. I’m glad to know my sister has found someone who loves her so well. I look forward to getting to know you as we work to bring Feyre home.”

“Yes, let’s get to work on that. Follow me.” Rhys guides her down the hall and through the foyer into a large seating area. Mor, Cassian, Azriel and Amren are all speaking lowly. Rhys clears his throat as he and Y/n enter the room, and all eyes fall on Y/n. More is the first to stand up and wrap her in a tight embrace. Y/n is shocked for a brief moment, before wrapping her arms around Mor in return.

Mor pulls back with tears in her eyes to say, “we love your sister so much. We are honored to have you in our family too. We will get her back.” Y/n smiles at her fondly and Mor turns to sit back down next to Cassian. Cassian and Azriel both smile and wave at her, just like they did the first time they met in the human lands. Amren and Y/n exchange nods, and Y/n predicts that is the most emotion she’ll ever see from the female.

Rhys is the first to speak next. “Let’s get started shall we?” He took a seat in the remaining armchair, and Y/n took up a spot on the floor, directly in front of the fireplace. Her favorite place to be. “Y/n, you don’t have to sit on the floor. We can ask the house to provide another chair.”

“I’m perfectly content right here, but thank you, Rhys,” Y/n went as far as to shuffle further back toward the heat.

Azriel’s usually calculated expression fell as he stared at her in total confusion. Never had he seen someone look like they wanted to be consumed by flames. He couldn’t even comprehend it. He schooled his features when he felt Cassian pop him in the ribs with his elbow and clear this throat.

“As you wish. Azriel, I know you’re still recovering, and I do not want you to push it, but have your shadows told you anything?”

“Not much. Feyre is still hardly allowed to leave the house, Lucien is still warry of her, and Tamlin is none the wiser. She isn’t eating enough.” He says the last part so quietly and with so much anger, a shiver runs down Y/n spine. She decides to never get on Azriel’s bad side.

“Have you heard from her? Can’t you two talk through your minds or something?” Cassian asks.

“Not much. We don’t want Tamlin, or Lucien for that matter, to get suspicious. But when we do speak, she sounds so far away and it’s an effort to keep the line open. Something isn’t right, but I don’t know what it is. When she was in Spring before it wasn’t this hard. It has to be Hybern’s presence there.”

“So all we can do is sit around and wait for more information?” Mor asks incredulously.

“I wish it could say otherwise, but for now, yes. Azriel and Cassian, you need to heal and get back to training, so we’re prepared when something changes and we have to move.” They call nod their agreement and accept that it’s all they can do right now.

“I want to train too.” Y/n’s voice startles them, as if they forgot she was there.

“Of course, we’ll work on your mental shields and-“

“No- I’m sorry- I don’t mean to interrupt. I mean, yes, I do want to train with you to build my mental shield, but I also want to train with Cassian and Azriel. I want to feel strong. I want to be strong. I never want what happened in Hybern to happen again. I never want to feel helpless like that and I want to help my sister.” Y/n was firm and confident when she locked eyes with Rhys, even as tears welled in her waterline.

“Okay. Whatever you need, we’ll do it.” Rhys looked at her like he could see right through her. To the scared little girl who lost her mother, who had to learn to hunt and steal and sell her body for godsdamned bread. She had never felt so vulnerable, and she quickly broke the stare.

“Are you okay with that?” Y/n asked Cassian and Azriel.

“Yes.” “Of course.” They replies in unison.

“Thank you.”

The day turned into evening and the group is still sitting around the tiny coffee table in that grand living room. Just relaxing in each other’s presence and sharing stories with Y/n, learning more about her. “Everyone thinks that the fire painted on the drawer was for Nesta because she is so fierce, but it’s not true,” Y/n chuckles fondly as she thinks of her sharp tongued eldest sister. “I have always been drawn to the flames. Even as a baby, my parents had to keep candles far away from me.” That gets a laugh from everyone in the room. Even Amren lets out a short breath that could be considered a laugh.

“So which one was Nesta’s? Don’t tell me it was the flowers,” Cassian asked. You could tell he was attached to her, even though they had only a few brief interactions and Nesta was far less than pleasant.

“Nesta had her own full wardrobe, painted black and full of dresses our mother stuffed her into when she gave her those awful etiquette lessons.” Y/n shuddered at the memory. And then paused, just now realizing that she had no idea where her sisters were. Her heart started racing and her eyes shot to Rhys’s, knowing he had already heard every thought.

“They’re safe. They aren’t adapting as well as you are, but they’re safe and they’re okay. I promise you; I will not let anything happen to them.” Y/n laughed internally as that word. Adapting. It’s what she was best at she supposed.

Weeks had passed and Y/n had been dedicated to training with Cassian and Azriel at least once every day, sometimes twice if her energy is pent up enough. And she has a lesson with Rhys everyday too. She’s learning to read, and her mental shield is solid. Her body had never felt so strong. It was a real hit to her ego though to learn that she had been carrying her body weight wrong and lifting deer over her shoulders incorrectly her whole life. Training with Azriel was calmer than training with Cassian. Azriel moved with so much grace and control and was making you learn all the movements and balance exercises. Cassian was intense. Teaching you how to move swiftly to block and avoid kicks and punches. The fact that was going easy on you was an even bigger hit to your ego.

On this particular day, Y/n trained with Azriel in the morning, noticing how much more balanced her body felt, could isolate muscles and utilize them. After lunch was her lesson with Rhys. She’s able to push him out of her mind now, still with some effort, but she doesn’t break out in a sweat now. She spent the afternoon resting and reading when Cassian stormed into the library and asked if she wanted to train. That brought them to the training area on the townhouse. Cassian complains that it isn’t as big as the one at the house of wind, but it did the job. Cassian had just gotten back from visiting the house of wind and he was angry. He was throwing punches and seeming to forget who he was sparring with. He was moving too fast and punching too hard, but Y/n couldn’t seem to get the words out to tell him to stop. He advanced forward and as she backed up, she stumbled, allowing Cassian to land a punch straight to her jaw. Her head rattled but before she could even register the pain, she yelled, teeth bared and fists clenched to her side, “ENOUGH CASSIAN!”

The world stopped, and after two, three, four heartbeats she realized Cassian wasn’t breathing. He was staring at her as his eyes went wide and he grabbed his throat. He crashed to his knees and reached for her hands. Releasing her tight grip on her own fists, air rushed back into Cassian’s lung. He gasped for breath as Y/n fell to her knees too and let out a sob. “I am so sorry Cassian. I am so so sorry; I don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry.” She somehow managed to get the words out between sobs and gasping for air.

“Y/n, Y/n it’s okay! I’m the one who’s sorry. I can’t believe I hit you, I am so sorry Y/n. Please, look at me, I need you to breathe. I’m okay. I’m sorry.” He held her and rocked her back and forth until her heartbeat slowed to a normal pace and she could lift her head to look at him. “Shit. Rhys is going to kill me when he sees that bruise on your face. Mor might beat him to it though. I’m so sorry.”

Y/n stands up and walks to the bathing room down the hall. Cassian ran to her when he heard her start…laughing? The picture in front of him as he skidded around the corner was one he could never have predicted. Y/n was clutching her stomach, leaning over the sink and laughing hysterically at her reflection. Cassian had punched her so hard that the bruising started at her jaw and gave her a black eye. Cassian was horrified, but Y/n just kept laughing, so eventually, he did too. Mor, Rhys, and Azriel came running around the corner too, wondering what the commotion was about. When they saw Y/n face, a collective, “what the fuck Cass?” Was sounded by the other three Fae. This made Y/n and Cassian double down and laugh even harder.

When they caught their breath again, Cassian stood up proudly, patted Y/n on the back and said, “I helped Y/n discover her powers today. No big deal,” he said with no small amount of smugness.

“You mean you needed a punching bag and I had to defend myself?” Y/n quirked a brow at him.

“Semantics!” He argued.

“Wait wait wait, Y/n has powers?” Rhys’s eyes went hazy as he mentally called for Amren. “Tell me everything.”

Y/n recounted the events of their fight and how she literally took his breath away. She didn’t know she was controlling any magic; she hadn’t felt it rise up, but it must have subconsciously come to her defense.

“You’re going to have to drop down to one lesson with Cass and Az a day and pick up an extra with me and Amren. We need to learn more about this power. Power gifted by the Cauldron itself is new territory for all of us. We don’t know what the boundaries of your power are.” The sudden seriousness in Rhys’s face felt sobering as Y/n and Cassian were pulled out of their laughter and back into the reality of who and what Y/n was. Cauldron made.

Another few weeks passed of training non-stop. The magic was a lot harder for Y/n to figure out than the fighting. As of today, she can suck the air out of a room that’s about 12ft by 12ft and hold it for five minutes before faltering, and she can send a blast of air and knock Cassian over from 30ft away. Cassian was used as the dummy for both tests as an apology for decking her in the face.

Y/n was in the middle of her reading lesson for the day when Azriel came crashing into the room. “We found her. Feyre got out of Spring; we have to get her. We need your help and your magic.”

She was up in an instant. She didn’t care that she wasn’t in fighting leathers, she just needed to get to her sister. Before she had a chance to ask any questions, Azriel grabbed her and jumped from the balcony. Y/n hadn’t flown before. Never wanted to be a burden to the Illyrians. But wow, what an experience. Azriel quickly caught up to Cassian and the three of them flew swiftly and precisely.

“Where are we going?” Y/n noticed the moment they left Velaris and the landscape changed to an icy tundra. She missed the heat and comfort of her spot in front of the fireplace in the library already.

“The Winter Court. I’m sorry there wasn’t time to get you in warmer clothes. I know you have a hard time with the cold. I should have prepared you.” Azriel felt terrible, but Feyre needed them. Y/n would adapt.

“It’s okay, Az. Feyre is more important. I’m okay,” and she meant it.

The touchdown was quick. Not a lot of time to slow down and land gently. The Illyrians landed and shook the ground. Azriel was softer about letting Y/n down. Before her was quite possibly her worst nightmare unfolding. Her twin sister, her favorite person in the entire world, was being restrained by the thing that brought her the most peace. A strange male was standing above her sister, using his gift of fire to hold her at her wrists and her neck. Y/n was frozen in place. Her mind went blank as her body was slammed with fear and disgust at the gross misuse of the flames licking at her sister’s throat. It felt like a violation to her very core. Her very soul was raging at the sight. Not only for her sister being in danger, but because of the way the male was using the thing Y/n held closest to her heart and found the most precious, as a weapon to do harm.

“Y/n! Y/n!” She was thrust back into reality by Cassian’s large hands shaking her back to consciousness. She blinked at him a few times before looking over his shoulder to see Azriel already taking down the other red-headed males and saving another. Lucien. Lucien was on Feyre’s side? Blinking again and trying to remain present, she and Cassian turned to the male holding Feyre. “Now, Y/n.”

With those two words form Cassian, Y/n approached the male, and he had the audacity to laugh at her. Granted, she was still in her house slippers, baggy linen pants and oversized sweater, so she wasn’t looking her most intimidating. But he quickly stopped laughing as Y/n lifted her hands above her head, closed her fists, and threw her hands down to her side. It didn’t take long for the male to realize that he could no longer take a breath. So focused on clawing at his throat, he didn’t notice that his flames had no oxygen to restrain his hostage either. Cassian, being well versed in her magic, ran into the void she’d created, grabbed Feyre, who unfortunately also couldn’t breathe, and got her out of your field of magic. Azriel was there with Lucien in a second, Mor winnowing in to grab Y/n, Cassian, and Feyre.

They landed in the townhouse seconds later, Azriel and Lucien not far behind. Y/n was in her sister’s arms before anyone could blink. They held each other tightly, but Feyre looked over Y/n shoulder to Mor.

“He’s on his way. He’s far away, but he is rushing home to you as fast as he can. He felt the bond and sent us ahead to get you.” Mor was crying too, and Y/n turned to wave her into their hug. Right now, her sister was home and everything else could wait for tomorrow. Even if Y/n couldn't stop thinking about that red haired male on the frozen lake today. the way he laughed at her and made her feel small, and she sucked the air from his lungs like it was nothing. She thought it would have made her feel good. but it didn't, and she wasn't sure why. She would fall asleep picturing his fearful face for many nights.

Taglist: @abysshaven @minaethrym @ivy-34 @stained-glass-eyes0708

[redscreendarkwin]

People being stupid (again, what a surprise)

Saw someone say that people who have "limiting beliefs" such as believing race changing and aging yourself down to date minors is wrong will keep you from shifting. Bitch, explain all the other shifters who have shifted (including myself through minishifts) with said "limited beliefs". Actually, explain anti-shifters who got into shifting because they didn't believe it wasn't real until they shifted.

You could literally claim ANYTHING is a "limited belief". Like for example, murder. I along with other shifters believe that murder is wrong. Does it mean I'm not gonna shift because of that? NO. Just because murder drs exist doesn't mean you should go to them just like how people who are not a certain race shouldn't shift to be another. Or like how if you're an adult, you should leave minors ALONE and not shift for them. Because that's stupid as fuck and I don't know about the rest of you people who claim anything is a "limited belief" but I have morals.

Like, you realize those people who murder innocent people in their drs could literally claim if you’re against it that that’s a limiting a belief. Some of yall don’t even think your arguments through and it SHOWS.

Do you see how your argument makes no logical sense?

This app has genuinely shown me that the majority of y'all are chronically online. Jumping through hoops to make it seem like you're not attracted to children or gaslighting minorities into thinking that race changing is ok just because you have a few Uncle Tom's backing you up.

"Well, I'm already that age in my dr so why does it matter?" why are you attracted to that child in the first place that you want to shift for them? Answer that, diddy. You're telling me that you see it as perfectly ok for 30 year old shifters to age themselves down to date someone who's 12 or even younger?

"B-b-b-but I'm already that race in my dr so why is it bad?" Maybe it's the fact you're purely using it for aesthetics/fetishization? If you're white, don't argue with me. I am never gonna look at your opinion as valid so you can stop typing on your keyboard now. Go outside.

I'm also so tired of people saying "It's not your dr, why should you care?" As if it's not human to care when people are culturally appropriating my or other people's culture for aesthetics/fetishizations or being pedophilic. Y'all care when people literally MURDER innocent people in other drs, why is it so different with this? Using your logic, we shouldn't care because it's not our dr.

And it’s so ironic that shiftblr proclaims itself as people who don’t spread false information when one of the biggest shiftblr blogs (this is targeting a specific person) is spreading false information like “if you don’t believe ____ you won’t shift.” You are quite literally doing the very thing you hate on shiftok for doing..

This app is FUCKED.

And dont try to debunk my post if you aren’t even gonna read my post in its entirety. Hint hint, you know who you are 😉

[fdelopera]

Exposing an Antisemitic Conspiracy Theory from TikTok

If I see one more Jew-hating idiot with TikTok brainrot saying shit like, "the Palestinians are descended from the ancient Philistines from the Bible lolol"...

You Jew-haters are exhaustingly stupid. And in this post, I'm going to show you why.

As I said in my post yesterday, there are some really bad actors (both in the conspiracy sense, and in the literal "drama" sense) on TikTok who are trying to erase Jewish history by spreading conspiracy theories that somehow Philistines and Palestinians are "the same".

These idiots are doing this so they can claim that "Jesus was a Palestinian/Philistine."

It gives me a headache even to write something as stupid as that.

No, ya dumb-dumbs. Jesus was not a Philistine. Jesus was a Judaean Jew. He was from Bethlehem. In Judaea.

You know, Judaea. The place where the Jews are from.

It is actually really offensive to a lot of Christians to claim that "Jesus was a Philistine" like this. If you've never read the Bible (and I'm guessing none of these TikTokers have), calling someone a "Philistine" is an insult. In common use, it means an uncultured or crass person.

In Hebrew, the word for Philistine is "Peleshet (Plishtim, plural)". It is related to the Hebrew word, "Polesh". Polesh in Hebrew means "invader".

So by calling Jesus a Philistine, you're calling him an uncultured invader.

And I am here, as a Jew, telling you to stop insulting Jesus like this!

.

Now, saying "Jesus was the same as modern day Palestinians" is also unhistorical.

The region was called Judaea when Jesus was alive. So he was a Judaean Jew.

It would be just as unhistorical to say, "Jesus was a modern-day Israeli".

.

So, why are antisemites spouting this bullshit?

Unfortunately, these Jew-haters think they're "protecting" the Arab Palestinians by spreading conspiracy theories and lies about Jewish history.

They think they're making a "case" for Arab Palestinian indigeneity in Judea by telling these lies.

Because Arabs aren't indigenous to Judea.

And let me tell you, Tumblrinies who went to the Tumblr school of world history are even trying to rewrite Arab history! Some of them have even tried to tell me, "but Canaanites were Arabs lolol!"

Do you want me to show you a map?? No, dumb-dumbs. Canaanites were NOT Arabs. Canaanites are the ancestors of the Jewish People. Not the ancestors of Arabs.

Arabs come from the Arabian Peninsula.

OMG do you guys not even study geography anymore??

These Jew-hating idiots are literally willing to try to rewrite the history of the Arabian Peninsula just so they can fuck with Jewish people. You antisemites are absolutely unhinged!!

.

Okay, deep breath.

.

Here's the other thing. Our educational system is broken. And people don't study history (clearly).

Because if they did study history, they would realize that attaching Jesus to the Philistines doesn't confer ANY indigeneity to the Palestinian people.

(G-d, you conspiracy theory idiots are so dumb!!)

Because, you see, the Philistines were GREEK!!

They weren't indigenous to the Levant AT ALL!!

So in claiming that the Palestinians are the "same as" the Philistines, you have actually WEAKENED the case for Palestinian indigeneity!

And none of this matters!

YES, the Jewish people ARE indigenous to Judea.

And NO the Palestinian Arabs are NOT.

BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER.

IT DOESN'T MATTER THAT ARABS ARE NOT INDIGENOUS TO JUDEA.

BECAUSE THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE DESERVE HUMAN RIGHTS AND SELF-DETERMINATION NO MATTER WHAT!!!

Do you see what spreading conspiracy theories and lies about Jewish history does? All it does is make you look like FOOLS, and it HURTS the Palestinian people!!!

And YES, these conspiracy theories mainly hurt Jews. But I know y'all don't give a single SHIT about Jews. You've proven to us just how antisemitic you are.

So PLEASE for the LOVE OF G-D, STOP spreading these fucking LIES, BECAUSE THEY HURT PALESTINIANS TOO!!

.

Okay. Deep breath. Some history.

The Philistines were ancient Bronze Age Mycenaeans, aka they were Greeks. The Torah is consistent with this. It records them as being from Crete, which during the Late Bronze Age was under Mycenaean control. They also had some genetic admixture from Southern Italy. We know this both from DNA evidence from their skeletons, and also from their pottery, which looks similar to Mycenaean Bronze Age pottery.

And regardless, Israel and Jerusalem are both in the archeological record, and in Egyptian records, LONG BEFORE the Greek Philistine people appeared in Egyptian records. The ancestors of the Jewish people were there long before the Philistines arrived.

And you would know all this if you STUDY JEWISH HISTORY! Here's my Jewish history masterpost. I recommend that everyone read it.

The Philistines were invaders in Canaan, and they clashed often with the native Canaanites, which are the people that Jewish people are descended from. Jews ARE Canaanites. Read my post here on Jewish origins.

The cultural memory of these clashes is recorded in the story of David and Goliath in the Bible. The Israelite David felled the much larger Philistine Goliath with a slingshot, and then chopped off Goliath's head with his own iron sword.

The Greek Philistines were a small people group living in Judea. The last of the Philistines in Judea were slaughtered in 604 BCE by the army of Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar II when he besieged Jerusalem. This is the same siege that resulted in the Babylonian Exile of the Jewish people. Nebuchadnezzar dragged many of the Judeans (the Jewish population) as captives to Babylon (modern day Iraq). Then in 586 BCE, Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the First Jewish Temple and dragged many more of the Jews into captivity in Babylon.

In 539 BCE, the Persian King Cyrus the Great defeated the Babylonians in battle, and in 538 BCE, the Persians allowed the Jews to return to Judea. The Jews came back to Jerusalem to build the Second Temple on the site where the First Temple had stood, which they completed in 515 BCE. But when the Jews returned, they found that the Greek Philistine community had been decimated by the Babylonians.

.

So, where did the Philistines come from?

As I stated above, the name "Philistine" is a Greek version of the Hebrew word Peleshet, and the Peleshet were likely the same as the Mycenaean Greek Peleset tribe known to Egypt. The Greek Peleset tribe were part of a people group that are today called the "Sea Peoples."

At the end of the Bronze Age (aka the Late Bronze Age Collapse), the known world was going through a period of terrible drought, famine, and earthquakes. Various people groups from areas that are now part of Italy and Greece, including the Greek Peleset tribe, formed a rough confederation and went around to various cities, sacking and plundering the cities for resources. In 1175 BCE, the Sea Peoples invaded Egypt, and King Ramesses III defeated them in battle. He commemorated their defeat on a wall of his mortuary temple at Medinet Habu.

.

So why is Palestine called Palestine, a name that does derive from the name Philistine?

To find out, you have to fast forward from around 604 BCE (when the Babylonians wiped out the last of the Greek Philistine people) to around 135 CE to get to the next time that the name of the "Philistines" becomes important.

That's a span of around 740 YEARS!

At that point, the Second Temple in Jerusalem had already been destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE. The Romans were doing ethnic cleansing on the Jews in Judaea, after the Jews tried to get Jerusalem back from Roman control in the Bar Kochba revolt (132 - 135 CE).

After the Roman Empire defeated the Jews in Judaea and squashed the Bar Kochba Revolt in 135 CE, the Romans RENAMED the region Syria-Palaestina. It was a vain attempt to remove the Jewish presence in the region. The Romans literally tried to wipe the Jews "off the map."

Guess what, motherfuckers! It didn't work. Jews came back to the region not long after.

The Romans named the region after the GREEK Peleshet/Philistines (who, again, by then were LONG GONE).

So the name "Syria-Palaestina" is basically the Romans trying to erase Jewish identity. Which again, DIDN'T WORK.

WE JEWS ARE STILL HERE.

So tl;dr "Palestine" is NOT the same as the Greek Philistines/Peleshet.

.

The Romans just went through the Hebrew Bible and looked for a name they could call the region that would be painful to the Jewish people. So they named the region after one of the Jewish people's Biblical rivals.

Philistia was also a name that was in use in the Greek world because, again, the Philistines were ancient Greeks.

But there's no actual connection between the region called "Syria-Palaestina" and the Greek people group called the Philistines.

This is why (let's say it all together kids) you need to LEARN JEWISH HISTORY!

.

And here's the worst part of this conspiracy theory.

Again, I know why Jew-haters tell this lie. And by now, so do you.

Jew-haters say this shit in a completely misguided attempt to "protect" the Palestinian people.

But, let's say it all together, the Palestinian people don't need to be backed by LIES in order to defend their human rights and their right to self-determination!

The Palestinian people DESERVE PROTECTION. THEY DESERVE TO HAVE FULL HUMAN RIGHTS.

.

THIS IS NOT A ZERO-SUM GAME, with one "winner" and one "loser."

YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL LIES ABOUT JEWISH HISTORY TO DEFEND THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE.

Jews and Palestinians are not "pawns" for you Jew-haters to use in your pretend game of war. You're acting like you're in some sort of video game fantasy.

JEWS AND PALESTINIANS ARE NOT YOUR PLAYTHINGS!

.

If you tell lies about Jewish history in a stupid attempt to "defend" the Palestinian people, you're not helping them at all. You're just being an antisemitic bigot steeped in Jew-hatred.

And taken to its extreme, the real conclusion of your antisemitic LIE is actually a really weird, unhinged blasphemy against the Prophet Muhammad!!

.

So if you ACTUALLY want to HELP the Palestinian people, and not just be a Jew-hating bigot, I would recommend that you put your money where your mouth is.

Stop telling easily disprovable LIES about Jewish history, and start donating to organizations and charities that are helping Palestinians. The organizations that I recommend are:

ANERA

Palestine Children's Relief Fund

Doctors Without Borders

Standing Together

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Nineteen

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking, angst lol word count: 4.9k a/n: y'all i have been trying so hard to make this story good but i hope you wont kill me after this part. don't forget i love y'all :)

pov: layla

The rest of the school day flew by, having gym with Allie made it a little more tolerable and not having Mia lurking over my shoulder was relieving. I ignored the usual whispers and dirty looks, seemingly more frequent than usual and I assumed it was because people knew about Matt and I.

I didn't quite understand what we were yet, we'd only been friends for under 2 weeks and I'd already let him into my life more than anyone I'd ever known. It frustrated me how easily my walls came down around him and how much I let him affect me. I didn't even mean to but I knew I had pushed him away during lunch but part of me was relieved that I was still able to do that, still able to keep my walls up around him whenever I needed to.

As I exited the building, Allie by my side rambling about something I tuned out due to my busy mind, I slipped my cigarettes out of my bag and lit the end of one between my lips. I made sure to blow the smoke away from Allie's face as I slid the pack back into my bag as we made our way to Nate's car.

"I'll be quick," I called to Nate who was leaning against his car, talking to Chris who was leaning against the minivan beside Nate's car. Nate nodded, resuming his conversation with Chris as I tuned back into what Allie was saying.

"So what do you think? Green or white nails?" she asked me and I mentally cursed at myself for not paying attention as we came to a halt a few feet away from Nate's car.

"Why not do green and white?" I suggested, trying to cover up the fact I had zoned out and gone too far into my own head to realise what she was talking about.

"Oh, good point. What about you?" she asked, pulling her cheer uniform down as she shivered, the tights on her legs not seeming to block out the cold as much as she hoped.

"What about me?" I asked, trying to quickly puff down my cigarette so as to not make Nate wait longer than he already had.

"What are you gonna do with your nails? Oh and we also have to figure out hair and makeup," she said matter-of-factly and I let my mouth hang open for a moment.

"I hadn't gotten that far yet," I answered honestly and she nodded, a small smile on her lips.

"No need to worry. I love helping people get dressed up. We can look at some stuff on Pinterest and figure out what you want to go with your dress," she answered confidently and I nodded in response with a small smile. I had been off since lunch and I knew she could tell but I was glad she didn't say anything about it.

I felt something touch my lower back and I jumped, spinning around to see Matt looking down at me with a worried expression, "Can I talk to you?"

"We're gonna go in a second," I answered quickly and he furrowed his eyebrows as I continued to take hits of the cigarette.

"Just for a minute," he asked quietly and I heard Allie shuffled behind me.

"I'll leave you guys to talk," she said quickly before she scurried away towards Nate, Chris and now Nick. I sighed, turning back to look at Matt who had nothing but a confused expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" he asked and I looked down, avoiding his eyes as I let out a breath.

"Nothing," I answered shortly and he stepped closer to me. I automatically tensed and I could sense his concern radiating off of him.

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to," he spoke softly and I felt guilt spread through my body but I didn't let it show as I continued looking at the ground.

"I'm fine, Matthew," I spoke blandly, finishing the rest of my cigarette before throwing it on the damp ground and squishing it with the sole of my shoe, "I gotta go."

"Layls," he tried to catch my attention again but I shook my head, walking towards Nate and Allie silently.

"You guys ready to go?" I asked and they both looked at each other briefly, a concerned look shared between them before they nodded, "Bye guys."

I waved to Chris and Nick as I opened the back door of Nate's car, sliding in without another word as Allie slid in the passenger seat and Nate jumped in the driver's seat.

I kept my focus to the left of the car, feeling Matt staring at me as he got into the driver's seat of his car and Nate waved goodbye to them before he drove out of the parking space.

+++

After spending 2 hours at the mall with Allie, I couldn't find anything that I could afford and I decided I would have to just make my own dress. After grabbing stretchy black fabric and Allie buying me a sweat tea, she decided she wanted me to go to her house.

"If you come over I can help you pick out heals and what you want to do with your makeup and hair!" she suggested as we waltzed down the mall back towards the parking lot where her dad was waiting for her.

"I don't know," I trailed off, my mood still off from my interaction with Matt. I had turned off my phone, not bothering to check it the whole time we were out because I knew Matt would try to message or call me.

"Please. We can drop you home after dinner," she pleaded, her words dragging out as the bags in her arms rustled. I sighed, running a hand through my hair before I nodded.

"Okay," I answered and she clapped her hands happily, fastening her pace as we reached the exit of the building. I trailed behind her until she walked up to a car which I could only assume was her dad's BMW.

"Hey Dad," she called in a sing-song tone as she approached the driver's window which he conveniently had rolled down, "Is it okay if Layla comes over for dinner and we drop her home after?"

"You couldn't have told me earlier?" he asked, his tone frustrated and I kept my distance, feeling like I was intruding on their conversation. I let them talk as their voices quietened before Allie spun around to face me.

"Okay! We're good," she said excitedly as she rounded the car to the passenger side and I followed suit, opening the back door before throwing my bag on the floor and sliding in.

"Hi," I tried to sound as polite as possible as I closed the door behind me.

"Hello," her father's voice sounded rough and tired and I took it as a queue not to talk further since he still sounded irritated. I kept quiet the whole car ride as her dad turned up the music, making it clear he didn't want to talk. Allie didn't say anything, only hummed along to the music as we drove through the busy streets.

Soon enough, we pulled up to a 3 story house that looked as modern as the White House. I jumped out of the car, looking up at the architecture in awe as I closed the door behind me and swung my bag over my shoulder. I didn't notice that Allie and her dad had already made their way to the door until Allie called my name.

She stood by the door, holding it open for me. I quickly jogged up to the wooden door and walked inside as she closed it behind me. I let my mouth hang open as I looked at the front foyer, the black spiral staircase travelling upwards from the white marble floor shone brightly from the chandelier.

"Mom we're home!" Allie called out to her mother, her voice echoing on the tiles as I looked up at the 2 stories above us.

"In the kitchen!" I heard a woman's voice respond, assuming it was her mother's. I looked around in amazement as I followed Allie through the foyer, turning to the right to find a huge open kitchen with a dining area right beside it, the table seating able to fit at least 10 people, "I didn't know you were bringing a friend over."

"Mom, this is Layla. Layla, my mom, Diana," Allie introduced us and I looked at her mother, smiling at her with a small awkward wave.

"Hi Mrs Finley," I plastered a smile on my lips and she gave me a short smile before looking back at Allie who was almost a spitting image of her. They had the same ginger hair, green eyes and short, skinny figures.

"You didn't tell me your friend was coming," she said through her teeth as Allie just shrugged, her mother's passive aggressiveness seemingly unphased her.

"It was last minute," Allie said, jumping up and sitting on top of the marble counter and her mother frowned, turning around from the stove where various pots seemed to be cooking over the gas.

"You need to let me know beforehand, Alison. You know this," she spoke sternly and I stayed in place by the door, not missing the way her mother scanned me head to toe. I pulled the pink sweater further down my arms to hide my tattoos that I knew she would despise.

"She's not staying over. She's just staying for dinner then we'll drop her home," Allie shrugged and her mother sighed heavily, spinning around to face the stove again.

"Al!" I heard another male voice call from the foyer and Allie rolled her eyes, grabbing a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl to her left as she threw a few in her mouth.

"What?" she called, the grapes still in her mouth as she crossed her legs and her mother spun around with a scowl on her face.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," she mumbled before facing the stove again and I leaned on the wall beside the door, unsure of where to go.

"Where did you put my helmet?" I heard the same male voice enter the room to my right and I looked over to see a guy who couldn't have been more than 2 years older than Allie and I. He turned to look at me, his dirty blonde hair flowing as he did so and he smirked at me, "Who's this?"

"That's Layla. Off limits, Xan," she deadpanned and he snickered as he looked back at her, his green eyes shining in the lights over the kitchen, "I don't know where your helmet is. I haven't touched it."

"Fuck off. I know you moved it," he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and I noticed the myriad of tattoos scattering his tan arms. I scanned his outfit, noticing the fact that he was clad in bike pants and a white shirt, a leather jacket hung over his right arm.

"Language," Diana scolded him and he simply rolled his eyes again, throwing his head back.

"Do you know where my helmet is, Mom?" he asked, his voice slightly more agitated and he glanced over at me, giving me a smirk which I returned with a frown.

"I don't know, honey. Have you asked your father?" she sighed, spinning around to face him before she glanced at me again with a scowl still written across her face.

"He said he doesn't know," the boy next to me answered and Allie groaned.

"Xander, you're a grown man. You can find your own shit," she mumbled and Diana hit her thigh with the back of her hand lightly to scold her again.

"I left it on my bike and now it's not there," he threw his hands out in front of him in defeat and Allie once again rolled her eyes.

"Where do you need to go anyway?" she asked as she popped another grape into her mouth and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

"I'm going to Shawn's," he answered shortly and Allie raised her eyebrows before glancing between me and him.

"Great! That means you can drop Layla home on your way," she announced and my eyebrows instantly furrowed, giving her a confused look.

"I didn't agree to that," he quickly shut it down and Allie shrugged her shoulders.

"She doesn't mind, right Layls?" she asked and I glanced between the three of them.

"I can just walk home. It's really not that far," I lied straight through my teeth and Allie frowned, knowing I lived nowhere near her.

"It would take you well over an hour to walk home. I'm not letting you go in the dark," she argued and I shrugged, adjusting my bag that was still on my shoulder.

"It's fine really," I brushed it off and she shook her head, Xander now groaning next to me before he looked at me.

"Where do you live?" he asked, his tone short from the annoyance of his younger sister.

"Uh," I hesitated, feeling uncomfortable in the expensive house with such proper people, "South End."

"You are not driving through South End, Xander," Diana quickly interjected and he looked towards his mother with a frown, "It's far too dangerous."

A moment of silence fell into the room and I glanced between the three of them uncomfortably. Allie patiently waited for her brother's agreeance, Diana waited for his denial and I couldn't help but notice a shift in his features as he smirked and his body became less tense.

"Sure. I'll talk you home," he shrugged as he looked directly at his mother who stared at him disapprovingly, "You ever ridden a motorbike before?"

"Yeah," I answered shortly, feeling the tension in the air as he looked back at me.

"Cool. Good thing I have two helmets," he smirked before waltzing out of the room again and I looked back at Allie with a frown.

"What? Now I don't have to convince my dad and you don't have to walk in the dark. It's a win-win," she shrugged and I sighed, running a hand over my face as she jumped off of the counter, "Come on. I'll show you my room."

I nodded as she picked up her bags from the floor and waltzed out of the kitchen and I followed behind her. She made her way up the stairs and once we reached the second floor, she walked down the long hallway before entering a room on the left. I entered the room, looking around at the white bare walls and the sheer size of the place. Her room alone was the size of my living room and I noticed the grey queen-sized bed in the corner with the saude grey couch sitting in the middle of the right wall.

"Holy shit," I mumbled as I dropped my bag down to the floor, looking at the flatscreen TV on the wall at the end of her bed and the vanity covered in various makeup products scattered across it on the other side of the room, "This is massive."

"Yeah. I tried to fill the space as much as I could," she mumbled as she walked through the giant space, throwing her bags on the elevated mattress. There were two pastel pink bean bags on the floor at the end of her bed with a white throw blanket on top of them. A wooden coffee table was in front of the two-seater couch, littered with different books and a pencil case, the two pink decorative pillows on the couch pulling the aesthetic of the room together.

"This is like the size of my living room and kitchen in one," I let my mouth hang open and she jumped on her bed, pulling the various items out of the shopping bags lazily.

"You should see my parents' room. It's like twice the size," she rolled her eyes dramatically, "I don't know why they bought this house. There are four of us living here and we have three spare rooms. It's insane."

She sounded almost bitter at the fact her parents had spent so much money on the house, the extra rooms being a nuisance to maintain but I didn't even bat an eye since I was too in awe of the amount of space. I looked to the left to see a walk-in closet filled to the brim with clothes and accessories.

"Okay! Let's talk hair and makeup," she announced and I hummed, still looking around her room before I sat on her bed. She began scouring through Pinterest on her phone, saving various photos of hair and makeup for the both of us to get ideas.

+++

"So what do your parents do, Layla?" Diana asked, her tone short as her spoon scraped on the bottom of her bowl of soup. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, Allie sitting on my left with her dad at the end of the table, Diana sitting next to her husband and Xander sitting across from me.

"Uh, my dad is a mechanic," I answered shortly, only half lying. He used to be a mechanic but now he only works on cars of people he's buying drugs off of.

"And your mother?" she asked, her spine straight as she sipped on her white wine and I placed my spoon down in the bowl.

"Um, she's not around," I answered vaguely and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Whereabouts is she?" she asked, her tone condescending and Allie coughed loudly.

"Mom," she mumbled, frowning at her mother and I shifted in my seat once again.

"I'm just asking a question, Alison," she spoke so clearly and precisely that I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes at her poise facade.

"She left when I was little," I answered honestly, my discomfort obvious and Allie turned to me, an apologetic smile on her lips and I gave her the same back.

"What do you do with yourself? Do you work?" her dad spoke up for the first time since we sat down and I shrugged, swallowing loudly.

"I help my dad with his work sometimes," again, it was a half-truth and I could lie straight through my teeth easily around people like this.

"So you don't actually have a job?" he asked, his words slightly patronising.

"She's still in school, dad. Give her a break," Xander rolled his eyes dramatically and his dad frowned at him, his mouth permanently in a straight line.

"Did I ask you a question?" he asked rhetorically and Xander sighed, shaking his head as he continued eating the pumpkin soup.

"Um, no. I don't have a job yet but I'm going to get one once I finish school," I spoke as confidently as I could and he looked back at me.

"You aren't going to college? What job do you intend to get without a degree?" he asked with a frown still plastered on his face and I let my mouth hang open, unsure of my own answer.

"Okay!" Xander interrupted as he placed his spoon back in his bowl, "Are you ready to go?"

"Xander, you haven't even finished your soup," his mother pointed out and he shrugged, pushing away from the table.

"I'm done. Thanks for dinner, Mom," he said quickly and I looked at Allie as if to ask if I could leave. She smiled at me and nodded before turning to her parents.

"May I leave the table to see them out? I'll come back after," she asked, the properness of it making my skin crawl and her mother nodded.

"Thank you for dinner. It was nice meeting you," I offered a polite goodbye, the words sounding as fake as they felt and Diana gave me a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes. I quickly got up as Xander walked out of the room and I followed behind him as Allie walked behind me. I was glad I brought my bag down to the front door earlier so I didn't have to bother getting it earlier.

"I'm sorry about them," Allie said apologetically as Xander walked out the front door and we followed suit as I shook my head.

"Don't worry about it," I gave her a tight-lipped smile and she sighed, running a hand through her hand.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow?" she asked and I nodded, picking up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder, "I gotta get back before they think I'm gone too long. Let me know if Xan does anything stupid."

"I will," I let out a half-hearted laugh and I walked over to where Xander was leaning on his black, helmet in hand. I observed the bike, gasping when I realised what it was, "You have a Ducati?"

"I'm surprised you know what that is," he stated with his eyebrows raised and I shook my head, walking around the bike as my jaw hung open.

"Are you fucking kidding? I've always wanted a Ducati," I mumbled, my hand running along the shiny black metal and he chuckled, pushing away from the bike as he spun around to hand me the white helmet. I hesitantly took it, sliding my bag over my shoulders so it lay across my chest instead of on just one shoulder.

"Don't worry. I've had a lot of people ride this with me," he smirked cockily as he picked up the black helmet hanging off of the right handlebar.

"I bet," I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I slid the helmet onto my head. I grabbed the strap under my chin but it was difficult to click into place without being able to see.

"Here," he stepped around the bike and I let my hands fall to my sides as I tilted my chin upwards. He clicked it into place before tightening the strap and I let my head fall back down, the visor still being up as I looked up at him through the gap in the helmet. He tapped the top of my helmet before mumbling, "Cute."

"Just get me home without crashing before you try to flirt with me," I grumbled making him chuckle. He grabbed the black helmet sliding it over his head and clicking the strap in, tightening it quickly. He zipped up the pocket in his pants he had his phone in before sliding his gloves on.

"Out of all Al's friends," he said as he swung his leg over the bike and sat down, "You're already my favourite."

"This is gonna be a long ride," I rolled my eyes as I placed my left foot on the peg, swung my right leg over the bike and sat down on the small seat at the back.

"Oh by the way," he said loudly before he reached in the gap in the helmet to seemingly adjust something before his voice rang in my helmet, "I have comms."

"Oh great. Now I can hear you talking out of your ass the whole ride," I said sarcastically and his laugh rang through my ears. I flicked the visor down and he followed suit.

"You ready?" he asked and I hummed before he kicked the stand up. He turned on the bike, soon after and the engine revved to life, "You gotta hold on unless you wanna fly off the back."

"This is insane," I mumbled, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around his torso and I heard his laugh ring through the helmet once again. I placed my chin on his left shoulder as he kicked it into first gear and we crept out of the driveway.

As we got onto the road, I instantly felt the cold wind pierce my skin through my clothes as it whipped around us and I tightened my arms around him.

"You good?" he asked through the headset and I hummed quickly, looking ahead as we passed multiple buildings quickly. My heart started beating with the rumble of the engine and a smile crept on my face as I thought of an idea.

"Can I lean back?" I asked hesitantly as I looked at the street lights around us.

"Let me turn left up here then you can. It's a straight road after that," he explained and I hummed, gripping tightly onto his leather jacket against his stomach, "Just move with my body as we turn."

"I know," I stated confidently and he let out another chuckle. After a few seconds, he slowed ever so slightly and we leaned into the turn before he straightened up again.

"You can lean back just don't stand up and don't lean back too far or you'll throw it off balance," he instructed me and my stomach filled with butterflies of excitement. I let my hands unravel from around his waist, still holding onto his sides as I leaned away from his back slightly. The wind hit me even more but it made me feel alive, it made me feel real.

My hair flicked behind me from the bottom of the helmet and I carefully let go of his waist. I looked ahead to see only one car ahead of us and it was far enough away that I could comfortably expand my arms out on either side of me.

"This is so fun!" I said excitedly as I leaned closer to him again, my arms being pushed back by the wind slightly. I heard a sound of amusement travel from him and I giggled to myself.

"You wanna go around this car?" he asked and I looked ahead to see we were approaching the car quickly. I let out a sound of approval, "Hold onto me."

I let my arms wrap back around his torso as he sped up slightly and within an instant, we zipped past the car with ease. I turned my head to look around at the buildings we flew past and the cars passing by us on the other side of the road.

"I don't know where to go from here, babe. You're gonna have to give me directions," he spoke loudly into the mic and I hummed, looking straight ahead again.

The next 10 minutes were spent mumbling different directions to him as my hands practically froze from the cold air and my hair tangled under the helmet. Soon enough, we arrived at my street and he slowed the bike when we were a few houses away from mine.

We pulled up to my house before he switched the engine off and put down the kickstand. He held out a gloved hand to help me get off the bike which I gladly accepted, swinging my legs off of the bike before I unclipped the strap and slid the helmet off.

"That was so fun," I smiled happily, certain that my hair was stuck up in all different directions as he slid open the visor to talk to me, "Allie never told me she had a brother by the way."

"She never told me she had such a pretty friend," he replied smoothly and I furrowed my eyebrows, a slightly amused smile on my lips.

"I'll let that slide for now because that was so fun but never do that again," I shook my head, handing him the helmet and he quickly spun around to attach it to the strap on the pillion seat.

"You have a boyfriend or something?" he asked as he turned to face me and I let my mouth hang open for a moment, unsure of how to answer.

"It's complicated," I told him honestly and I could see the smirk from under his helmet as he shook his head.

He looked ahead to where my house was before saying, "Is that your not-boyfriend?"

I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked over where his eyesight was and I saw none other than Matt standing there with his arms folded. He had an unsatisfied expression written across his face as he leaned against his car, staring directly at me.

"I'll take that as my queue to leave," Xander said with slight amusement in his voice before revving the engine of the bike back to life and yelling, "Tell Allie I can pick you up whenever you need, pretty girl."

He flicked the visor of his helmet back down before giving me a salute and suddenly, he sped off down the road. My body ran cold at the sound of the nickname coming from his mouth, hating the way it felt compared to when Matt said it. I looked back over to where Matt was glaring at me and I quickly jogged towards him.

"Matt-"

"I don't wanna hear it, Layla," he shook his head, his words sounding like venom directly to my heart and I let my arms drop beside me.

"It's not what it looks like," I tried to explain as he pushed away from the car and let out a bitter laugh.

"Really? That's what you're going with?" he asked, a look of disbelief on his face as he threw his hands out in front of him, "You ignore me all day, don't answer any of my calls or messages so I decide I'm gonna show up to your house to sort this out and I see you get off the bike of some other deadbeat guy!"

"Deadbeat guy? That's Allie's brother," I furrowed my eyebrows and he raised his with a nod of his head.

"Oh cool. So you're just hitting it off with one of my best friend's brothers now?" he asked, anger seeping off of him and it only made me want to yell at him more but I didn't get the chance to, "I did nothing wrong and now you're off with some other guy doing god knows what. You didn't even try to talk to me."

"He was just dropping me home!" I argued and he shook his head, another bitter laugh emitting from his mouth as he swung the driver's door open.

"Don't come to my game tomorrow. I can't fucking believe you right now," he spat out angrily as he jumped in, slamming the door closed behind him.

I rounded the car as I yelled at the glass separating us, "Matt just listen to me!"

He started the car and within an instant, he drove down the street and I watched the taillights disappear in the distance as my shoulders dropped in devastation.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

tags:

@dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @chrizznmetswife @ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219

[landhoe-norris]

"carlos did the bare minimum of what he was hired to do, nothing more nothing less"

i've seen this take a lot today, in many different forms, all of them hyping up charles while doing their utmost to trash talk carlos.

no one is denying that carlos was hired to score points and podiums. that's the name of the game. (almost) everyone on that grid is hired because the people in charge believe that they can bring their teams some kind of glory.

but what this race (and the other three races he's managed to partake in) highlights is more than just his ability to "do the bare minimum."

time and time again we have seen his ability to overtake and defend, that's not something anyone can argue. but some of y'all still try your hardest 'til you're blue in the face.

there seems to be a consensus for a lot of people, especially those who support his teammate, support the current world champion or support the driver who will take his seat next year, to talk down every single thing carlos does. when he does his own strategy, he's a bad team player, when he follows strategy, he is being favoured by the team. when he's the faster ferrari driver, it's only because there's a problem with charles' car, but when charles is faster, it's because he's better.

two things can be true at once, and those two things are: carlos and charles are both excellent drivers.

they both have their talents, but i'm here to talk about carlos' talents.

his race strategy is, very often, unmatched. there is a reason he's called a strategist, and it's because he is incredibly smart but also very insightful and can calculate what's best for himself while driving an f1 car at top speed. not everyone can do that, and that's fine. other drivers have other talents.

but it's so integral to realise that his contributions extend beyond the cockpit. his teamwork, communication with engineers, and feedback have contributed significantly to ferrari's car development and team strategy, enhancing ferrari's competitive edge. the fact that people at maranello didn't know what to do with him in his first year cause he was always around, looking, learning and contributing says a lot about him.

his resilience in high-pressure situations, his adaptability to changing race conditions, and his determination to maximise every opportunity on the track make it clear that reducing his contributions to merely doing the "bare minimum" doesn't do justice to his capabilities or achievements. the weirdest part of this for me is that people seem to resent him for knowing his worth. they dislike him because he knows his talent, and knows his strengths, and isn't afraid to stand up for himself.

for the past month or so people have been talking a lot of shit; from saying that bearman should get the seat for the rest of the season to calling his win after abdominal surgery a fluke, his podium in bahrain being ridiculed because his teammate had brake problems and therefore "he never would've been on the podium if charles' car hadn't failed him" and now people are saying his p3 in japan means nothing.

there have been severe accusations thrown at carlos and his father, and i would even go as far as call them libel. these people who have spread false information and made up ridiculous rumours are lucky they're nobodies either on here, reddit or twitter, otherwise they could be in a lot of shit.

i could genuinely go on forever about this, but i won't. just know that carlos sainz jr is an amazing driver who deserves to have a team that not only fully appreciates him, but also is able to give him what he deserves.

ferrari is not, and never has been, that team. and i hope that the fans of the team that he will end up with, will appreciate everything about him and not resent him for wanting to be the driver that he knows he can be ❤️

[oleander-nin]

Hello my lovelies! Just a quick little PSA in regards to something that happened to @yanteetle.

If you're going to steal work, at least give credit. Reposting work is already awful enough, but doing so w/out credit? I know this most likely wasn't y'all, but this is just a warning for everyone.

Yesterday, Yanteetle discovered some of her work had been posted on YouTube, Tiktok, and Wattpad. On YouTube(the main focus of this), two were edits, and one was voice acting. Both of these videos relied heavily on her work, and two of them got up to ten thousand views, with the other amassing one thousand two hundred views. That is twenty-one thousand views, or people, seeing her work and enjoying it, all without knowing who it's from in the first place.

One of the videos even had hundreds of comments asking who the artist was, and the only thing they(the poster) gave as a response was that it was "on Tumblr".

This person knows the art isn't theirs, knows where they got it from and how to find it, yet still never once credited Teets for her artwork. I don't know what goes through their brain when you do that, or how they can care so little for the original artist, but never do this.

The second instance I'm most mad about is the third video(the voice acting). This one was just someone going through and voice every artwork Teets made, and the title of the video makes it seem like their claiming it to be their own AU(When I first saw that, I assumed they were just going to base an AU off of her work, but NOPE! It's just them voice dubbing her comics.)

I checked the description, hoping they would add something there. NOPE. Even in the comments, only one person asked and they never responded. I DID however find a people who were:

Encouraging them to make more(which would mean more misuse and stealing of Teets or others work)

Telling them they were going to make videos based off this video, which means more spreading of it because they all promised to credit the thief

Praising 'their' work and their voice, which is directly showing them they can get away with what they're doing(not really to the fault of the commenters, but I digress)

Call me overbearing or crazy, but this does not sit will with me in the slightest. Yanteetle never had to post. She never had to take requests. She never had to put as much effort into her work as she does, yet everyone takes it for granted, and people take her work.

Some of you may be thinking "Oh, but didn't Teets say you could repost her work?"

And to that I hit you on the head because her full clause on usage of her work is "Disclaimer: reposting is fine as long as proper credit is given, but tracing and claiming it as your own will not be tolerated."

In my opinion, every single one of these are taking Teets work as their own. Until you give her name, there is no other belief people can have other than the assumption you made it yourself. Humans find patterns and assume things on default, this isn't on the shoulders of the consumers. I already have my own opinions about her reposting disclaimer(which I've kind of discussed with her, but it's her choice), but even if it were stricter, I can guarantee you this still would've happened.

Taking work without credit is not a cool thing to do, and will earn you a lot of hate and problems you probably don't want to deal with. I personally go through every account that follows and likes my stuff because I want to see who's interacting with me. Do I think any of y'all would do this? No, not really. But you are the only audience I have. Do not take work from others, and especially don't do it without permission and credit.

If anyone has a similar problem and needs someone to speak up for them, just hit me up and I'll try my best.

Thank you for listening and have a good day.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Hiii pretties! Welcome to my blog!! Please keep things positive and stay slutty my friends!!!

~If you have any requests, please feel free to leave it in my inbox!!!~

Masterlist: The Watcher (Part One, Part Two, Part Three...)

you can read the rest if you wanna like know more about me n shit ig

Hello!! I'm Kay, or K, kat, whatever you wanna call me. I'm literally just a girl. I am a freakkkk. I do be a bit of a stoner y'all, and I usually am high when I write, so if I make a mistake, I'm blaming that. I'm from the United States (unfortunately) and I only speak English. This is a safe place; I am always here if anyone wants to talk. I do not discriminate; I do not spread hate. I do not and will not tolerate hate or unkind behavior towards me or others here on my blog. Like seriously guys I have bad anxiety, so please be nice and don't make it harder for me.

This is pretty much solely for Outer Banks, Rafe Cameron to be more specific. But, feel free to talk to me about other things!

Other things I'm interested in/passionate about: Taylor Swift, veterinary medicine, Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, The Walking Dead, 13 Reasons Why, Supernatural, Jurassic Park/World, Harry Potter, The Maze Runner, The Hunger Games, comedy movies (Seth Rogen & James Franco). I love cold weather, books, and cats. Music is life and I listen to a little bit of everything so feel free to send songs.

I AM a student, so just keep in mind that I may be inactive because I’m in CLASS or doing work; because I will prioritize that over tumblr (well, i try). Other times I’m inactive because I am sleeping, or because I’m busy with LIFE. I am not tied to my tumblr and blog. I’ve had only positive experiences here so far, but I know that fanfic writers are often mistreated by readers, but guys we are all just people.

If you want me to hurry up and publish new work, don't tell me that, just interact with my blog and compliment my writing and that will motivate me more than anything else ever could. Also ASK AND REQUEST PLEASEEE!! I really enjoy and appreciate new ideas and feedback from other people's brains. I also appreciate constructive criticism. Don't be mean about it, but if you dislike or disagree with something, tell me politely. I like hearing feedback and am always working on improving my writing.

Seriously y'all, please please PLEASE do NOT be hateful. Do that on your own time, not here. I will not tolerate unnecessary attitude and hate. I believe in forgiveness, and I know that mistakes and misunderstandings happen. I will treat anyone and everyone with kindness and respect unless I have reason not to (really hoping I don't).

Who do I write for? I only write for Rafe Cameron. However, I'm not opposed to writing a little or sharing thoughts about other Outer Banks Characters!

What do I write? I will write literally almost anything. There’s no such thing as too much for me, so request away please. ------ As for darker topics, I will write them. Actually, a large portion of my work will include darker topics/themes/kinks, etc. I will write sensitive subjects too. But just because I live for that shit, doesn't mean everyone else does so I'll do my best to include warnings on all my work for any content that might potentially be triggering for others.

(Small warning: mentions of my mental struggles and self-destructive habits) I've always struggled mentally. I've always felt as though the way my brain works is different from everyone else; like something is wrong with me. But after many many years, I now have a better understanding of myself and how my brain works. Not to dump this on y'all, I swear I have a point, but I have diagnosed depression, anxiety, and ADHD. These things are all a big challenge I face in my day-to-day life and are often the leading cause of why I may take longer to write and publish things. I may take breaks, so don't worry if I'm not active, I will be back at some point. And I'll try my best to update you guys on when I'm gonna be less active or vice versa. Another way my mental health effects my writing is because when I write, a lot of the time my personal experiences or feelings will end up incorporated within my work, since well, it's all coming from my brain. I mostly write for myself to express my thoughts and feelings, having others read and actually enjoy my work is just an added bonus. But personally, I have struggled with self-harm for about one third of my life. I often get ideas for new works revolving around this theme and may publish things about it eventually. Themes such as mental illnesses, self-harm, abuse, insecurities, EDs, suicidal thoughts, unhealthy relationships (obv), toxic household, etc. will have a reoccurring appearance throughout my works. So just be prepared, I guess.

And like I said before, if anyone needs to talk, I am ALWAYS here and I am a very good listener.

Everyone is more than welcome to message me or leave anything in my inbox. Whether it's to chat, request something, ask something, literally whatever is welcome!! (Except hate I don't fw that)

Thank you for visiting my blog, I hope you enjoy! As always, be kind and stay slutty!

[morganalatina21]

Manipulating Death: Chapter Thirteen

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

a/n: i knoww it's been a minute, but i finally sat my ass down to write and I actually did it, I'm sorry it took so long, I was trying to meddle 2 universities, a job and a student organization, so i'ts been meltdown after meltdown. Anyways, hope you guys didn't gave up on me :)

Also for anyone that noticed, I did had to change the gif lol

Word Count: 2.5k

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Last Chapter | Masterlist

"Please don't be mad. Although, y'all already are, probably. Did I anticipated it? Sure. Heavens know I'm sorry for not saying anything. Even if it's for the best. Lord Voldemort has to be stopped. Please don't worry, and DON'T come looking for me. Matter of fact, I shouldn't be writing. May we meet again soon."

That was all the letter, the only letter, said.

It arrived at the Grimmauld Place two and a half weeks after Y/n vanished from existence, leaving no trace behind except an incredibly disoriented family.

"How could she be gone?" Sirius mumbled for what seemed to be the twentieth time that morning, sitting in the living room, paper spread on the table as he wrote a letter to his godson; lying to him and saying that his sister was safe, yet again.

"This doesn't sound like her." Remus answered, exhaustion getting to him as he sat in front of the Black. "No little jokes, no funny tone, not even one who is clearly forced just to lighten up."

"She's in trouble." Guaranteed Regulus, pacing back and forth on the carpet like a lost cat.

The younger Black hasn't been able to sleep since he found the bed empty, desperately trying to find clues everywhere he looked. A string of her hair, her smell somewhere, anything! But no matter the effort, he'd always run into a dead end.

"We don't know that for sure, kid."

"I KNOW!" He spat, mad eyes looking at his brother.

"This could just be an attempt to get us out of the house, to go looking for her, so Death Eaters can capture us." Remus argued. "Which... is worse, because it would mean that they somehow know about her."

Regulus groaned, feeling sicker and sicker as he spoke.

"She could -possibly" Remus added, carefully stepping into the argument. "Be somewhere looking for a way to bring her parents back. I mean, she just died and got nothing on their end, she might be desesperate."

"Y/n wouldn't go without me." The young boy quickly dismissed it.

But really, he wanted to convince himself.

Was it that easy to abandon him? To leave him behind like nothing, and go run around like crazy? Because it sure wasn't easy for him to leave her.

"We should just... trust her." Sirius argued, calmly. "I trusted her enough to save my life and my little brother's, so I have to trust her enough to save her own life."

"She's too reckless."

"So we'd have to trust that she wouldn't leave us behind without a final goodbye."

Regulus swallowed thickly. The Black knew she wasn't selfish enough to survive just for herself, if it wasn't for him stopping her from bringing de death back left and right, the girl probably would've saved half the population without even thinking about the aftermaths on her health.

"We keep an eye on the news, magic and muggle, to see if we can find any clues. If she's out there messing with horcruxes, like you said before, it'll have an effect in the entire Wizarding world. If she's messing with the dead, the entire globe would feel it."

It wasn't enough for Regulus.

Staring at the news while she's out there somewhere, probably getting herself killed?

The Black sprinted downstairs, entering the basement again, trying to look for any clues, maybe a possessor he didn't notice at first, maybe a more convincing note.

He just wanted... something.

"Now that that's outta the way, keep him there." Sirius said, standing and reaching for his coat.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Save our goddaughter? And now, possibly my- my- my sister in law?" He chuckled, moving his hair into a bun. "Where else should I be going?"

"You don't actually think it's her, do you?"

The sand-haired man stared at the letter for a couple seconds, too vague, too cold. Not at all like Y/n, if it wasn't for them to go after her, as she clearly mentioned, why even bother writing a letter?

"It's a code, Moony!" He whisper-yelled, looking to the basement door, too afraid his brother would come out and ruin everything. "First letter of every sentence. It's one of the codes Prongs and I used to get each other out of trouble."

With eyes full of doubt, Remus carefully read the note again, putting letter and letter together.

"P- A- D- S- H - E - L -P - M -M " He listed. "Shouldn't it be, M and then E? Help ME?"

"No, Moons. It was always nickname, Help, and then some clue for our location."

"Did you manage to find words to spell Prongs?"

"No, I usually just scream for help."

"Makes sense." Remus shrugged, staring down at the piece of paper one more time. "So MM, stands for..."

Malfoy Manor.

A huge dark construction with dozens of rooms, in the middle of a forest, a house he used to visit when they were younger, to keep the bonds between the pureblood families alive. So much that his cousin, Narcisa, ended up marrying one.

"Never thought I'd step foot into this place again." He sighed, trying to be as careful as possible, getting inches closer to the house. "But anything for little ol Prongsie."

Truth be told, Padfoot was never one to make great plans, usually that was reserved for Prongs or Moony, he'd always be the lad to suggest just blowing everything to pieces and get on with it. But right now, he had to think carefully. If Y/n was really somewhere inside that god-awful house, possibly being held hostage, one false movement and she'd be murdered. Again.

There was a man standing tall, guarding the main door. If his eyes were correct, that was Antonin Dolohov, who he used to piss off when they were in Azkaban together, along with his oh so lovely cousin Bellatrix. That was a dead giveaway.

Lord Voldemort was there too.

"Great, we'll have a tea party while I try to negotiate my niece's life. The more the merrier." He mumbled, talking to himself, an old habit he got back after spending twelve years with basically no one to talk.

Sirius quickly transformed into his animagus form, judging it'd be safer if someone saw a dog walking around instead of a wizard who was part of the Order.

Sniffing around, he finally smelled something different from pure evil and expensive perfumes that wasn't Bella's stinky hair. The smell came from the back of the house, more specifically from a tiny window almost on the ground. The dark basement.

He yelped, keeping his distance just in case, but soon enough a forehead and eyes appeared.

"Pads!"

"What on Merlin's green underwear are you doing here?" The man whisper-yelled, now back into his original form, squatting down to take a look at her.

The girl was skinnier, with dark bags underneath her eyes, cuts with dried blood on her forehead, cheek and chin, but nonetheless there was a huge smile.

"I found my possessors!" She gestured, pointing behind her, to which Sirius could see their eyes glowing.

"That's great kid, but you still didn't answer my question."

"They still don't know about him, and they can not know." The girl said sternly. "But they do know about us hunting horcruxes down, and about me, and that's it."

So, Voldemort didn't know she could control death.

"Okay, what's the escape plan?"

Minutes later, the iron gate creaked. Sirius wasn't there anymore, leaving just a weak Y/n on a dark room with nothing but filth and oily ground.

"Y/n Potter." The man whispered, eyes wide open.

She hissed in response, "Wormtail."

"I didn't believe when they told me at first." The short guy was looking at her almost in awe, taking small steps forward. "But it really is you." Chuckling darkly, he tilted his head to the side. "I've seen that annoyed expression before, on your mother you know."

Sitting there, the girl barely blinked while looking at him. She wasn't nonchalant as usual, it was cold, stabbing daggers into his face with just her eyes.

"The dark lords demands to see you now."

His iron hand held both her wrists together tightly, bruising the already hurt flesh, to which she winced for a split of a second.

The main hall of the Malfoy Manor was mainly wiped away from the Potter's memory, hours of the Cruciatus curse making her memory blurry and unclear. Although she always remembered the arrangement: Voldemort was the only one sitting down, on what she assumed to be the fanciest armchair the Malfoys owned.

The rest of the Death Eaters stood in a parable, the dark lord being the highest point, leaving a huge empty space on the floor for her to be tortured while they hovered around her body.

"Let's try again, shall we?"

Peter dropped her arms and went to stand right beside his master's seat, opposite side to Nagini.

"I am not exactly patient, child." Voldemort started, the tip of his wand pointed right at her. "And you're not exactly giving us useful information. So if I were you I'd start talking. It wouldn't be the first time we'd torture someone until they can't move just to extract their memories, am I right?"

Just like brainless animals, the hord of wizards made laughing sounds the way they could.

"You don't even know the reason I'm here." The girl finally spoke, bringing silence to the room. "You just blindly trusted your followers that I have something important in me, but you don't have a fuck of a clue, do you? And I'm only assuming they can't explain it to you either."

"You are the sister of my greatest enemy, that is more than enough reason for me to keep you here."

"Your greatest enemy is a teenager with shitty eye sight? Man, I feel bad for you."

Her knees dropped to the floor as the sitting wizard whispered "crucio". Y/n threw her head back, gasping for air, refusing to give them the satisfaction of her screams. Bellatrix laughed uncontrollably as the girl struggled to not plant her face on the ground.

"Shut it, you insolent child." Voldemort ordered, not raising his voice. "I killed both of your parents already, and I will kill your brother, nothing is going to stop me from killing you when I think is convenient for me."

The Potter giggled like a child, hair falling in front of her face and air slowly going back to her lungs. That made the Lestrange stop her laughing and look at the girl as if she spat on her face.

"You are not going to kill me, Tom." Y/n could see a muscle twitch on Voldemort's face upon hearing that name, only expanding her smile. "I am important to you, you just don't know that yet."

"Nonsense you bitch." Busted Bellatrix, taking hard steps on her direction, wand ready, pointing at her. "The Dark Lord needs not a scavenger like you and-"

"Bella!" Was enough for the witch to stop on her tracks, a sour grimace spreading across her face as she slowly backed up next to her stop.

She's just like a puppy, a psychopath puppy, Y/n thought.

"And why are you important to me?" Voldemort asked, eyeing the girl still on the floor, slightly leaning on his seat.

"Because I am what you fear." The Potter smirked. "I can control who lives and who dies, I can reach into a dimension you're too afraid to discover, because you're frightened by death. You're frightened by me."

The Dark Lord stood up finally, raging fire behind his eyes looking down on her, and her shit eating grin on display only made things worse on his mind.

"Don't believe me?" She dared. "Choose anyone on this circle and I will kill them without using spells, and bring them back before you can say 'Crucio' again."

Suddenly, all the Death Eaters wanted to take a step back, noticing how their master was actually considering taking her word for what she could do.

Some, like Draco, did, ever so unnoticeable. Others, like Bellatrix and Yaxley, were skeptical of her possible power and stood still.

The young girl looked around, eyes scanning each one of them, landing specially on the brunette with hollow cheeks.

"Oh please, don't tell me Death Eaters are scared of death."

Infuriated, she stepped forward.

Bingo.

"I am not scared to die for the Dark Lord." Bellatrix announced, handing her sister the wand. "Do your worst."

"Oh I will." Y/n guaranteed as Voldemort took a few steps back, intrigued.

The girl reached her hand forward in the form of a claw right in front of the woman's face, in the best theatrical movement she could come up with. And with a twist of her wrist, Bellatrix Lestrange dropped to the floor without any second left, her body completely numb and frozen.

Gasps were heard all over the room, and Wormtail took three steps back. Narcisa, on the other hand, took three steps forward, squatting next to her sister. Turning her body to face up, silent whispers ran across the hall; Bellatrix's eyes were wide open, staring into nothing and not a single muscle twitched.

"She's dead."

In unison, all of the Death Eaters started taking steps back, it was magic without a wand and non verbal, without any weapons. Not a single person there had seen anything quite like it.

"Don't worry." Y/n intervened when Voldemort started gesticulating to Nagini. "I'll bring her back. That was the deal, right?"

Positioning both her forearms on each side of the woman's head, Y/n held her through the jaw and slightly opened her mouth. Getting their faces really close to each other, the Potter audibly inhaled through her mouth once, twice, thrice.

Bellatrix gasped.

Narcisa was quick to hold her in place as Y/n leaned back, smiling smugly as all the people surrounding them looked in shock. To them, the girl performed something close to a miracle right before their eyes.

Voldemort grasped his follower's face, squinting his eyes, looking for any sign that she might still be dead and it was all just a trick. But there was nothing

"I know you're probably wondering how." The girl spoke, smile not even looking like it would ever vanish from her face. "But I'm sorry. A magician never reveals his secrets."

As soon as the last word spilled from her mouth, the doors busted open, revealing a large Padfoot barking and growling next to an unconscious Dolohov, while dozens of dark figures ran around, assaulting the Death Eaters and knowcking them down.

Y/n sprinted as fast as she could, having a little help from something who just finished helping her with the theatrical demonstration. What no one had noticed, was one of the possessors Y/n owned, subtly placing himself as a dark cushion as she fell on the ground at the first Cruciatus. And with simple orders, he entered Bellatrix, killing her momentarily, just to get out moments later.

Running next to each other after being a menace, Sirius for sure missed that. He wasn't that young and prepared teenager anymore, but oh did he welcomed that adrenaline. Specially after hearing her laugh, he felt alive again.

Grabbing a piece of Padfoot's fur, they apparated far away from that horrid place.

Taglist: @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit @kaverichauhan @venomsvl @mrs-billyrussooo @mikadorbs @iavenderh6ze @wizardsgrace @reblog-princess @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @roroswitherose @s-we-e-t-t-ea @ok-boke @warcelia @danyxthirstae01 @b-tchymoon @lovely-maryj @the-sander-fander @regulusblackloverr @coffeeaddictednymph @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @teamspideyman @artemis-the-ace @theprettytragic @loidforgerishotashell @criminalyetminimal @amortyong @qualitywitchchaos @musicconversedance @xcharlottemikaelsonx @esposadomd @e1213 @certainyouthpeanut @voodoodol7760 @ireneop @lovermoment @avadakadabra93 @musicconversedance @wildtigerlili @csifandom @noah-uhhh-what

[breathing-the-same-air]

How has Our Flag Means Death changed your life?

I have to admit I'm quite late to the party - I only found out about OFMD in September this year. Just in time to binge-watch season 1 and 2 and watch the last three episodes of s2 live.

I used to be a big reader and I also watched a lot of TV, but the past years have been tough, and busy with so many things, that my general approach is 'I don't have time for this'. And then I scrolled through Tumblr and saw a picture of Ed and Stede. I have no idea what happened next.

There was something that called me, that told me I had to watch this show, and so I did. 10 mins into the first episode I was already in love with it. The huge message about Kindness and Inclusion that was spread there resonated so deeply within my heart that I just knew I would stick to the end.

I would stay in bed watching OFMD until late at night, I'd wake up at 5 am and dive into Tumblr before work. Did this completely mess up my life? Yes. And it was such a blessing.

I used to be so very insecure about myself. OMFD came and just wiped it all away. The great thing is that it's not something explicit or straightforward - there is a magic in this show that touches a part of your soul that you didn't even know existed, heals a pain you were not even aware of, and it changes you. I came out of it being so much more confident, and most importantly, happier. I used to hate my face, my voice, and I'd always be so hard on myself. Now I genuinely feel that I am who I am, and that is okay. This show has inspired me to be a better person, it gave me something wonderful to fight for, and a found family that I couldn't have dreamed of.

I've been in fandoms before, and I've never seen one so healthy as this. Everyone is trying to help one another, there are not endless arguments or hate being thrown everywhere, we are so united, someone takes the lead and we all immediately follow and make miracles happen... Just as a Crew.

I'm so thankful to y'all crazy people! Cast, producers, fandom... You're genuinely the best! Because of you, because of this show, I finally feel that there is hope to be found that the world can become a better place, that this can be the start of something huge, I honestly believe this is a unique phenomenon and it has made history... We are making history at every step. We are creating a new world of kindness and diversity where we can all just be who we are and have fun and just - be happy!

I adore you all, wonderful Souls ❤️🥰

[deconstructing-klance]

The Hypocrisy of the Klance & Plance Age Differences

I'm a Plance shipper. I think Lance and Pidge are perfect together. I'll get into that a different day, though.

The main gripe I hear from Klance shippers about how Plance is "creepy" and "doesn't work" is because there's a 3 year age difference between the two.

Alright then, let's look at ages.

The VLD timeline is convoluted at best. I literally spent about 3 hours one night trying to figure out the timeline and eventually came to one that I think works out pretty well. A HUGE shoutout goes to Greg Tyler who wrote several blog articles about this confusing conundrum.

The ages of the Paladins when they leave in the Blue Lion:

Keith - 18

Hunk - 17

***This is where I demonstrate someone can have their own head canon but still respect canon when it comes to official VLD issues. I personally believe his age is really 18. Hunk is listed as being 17 with his birthday is in January. Due to Hunk's looks, size, and maturity, I don't think the year they left in the Blue Lion he turned from 16 to 17. I think he turned from 17 to 18. So in the VLD fan stuff I create, Hunk is older than Lance, not younger. But we'll go with what the creators said and also because Hunk's age is 17 in the guidebook.***

Lance - 17

Pidge - 15

***Pidge's age has been disputed over the years, with some incorrectly saying she's 14. The guidebook states she is 15. I think some of the misinformation is spread so people can look down on the Plance shipping.***

To keep the mathing simple, let's assume Keith was born in the year 2300. Birthdays will be thus:

Again, the year is arbitrary to make mathing easier. I still can't figure out what year VLD takes place.

In S1 E1, there's a calendar on the wall in Keith's shack that has the number 2 on it. Assuming Keith kept up with his calendar, we know the Paladins left in the Blue Lion on the 2nd.

Picture courtesy of Violet the Howler

I go with Greg's timeline, because he's pretty much a Voltron scholar of all the different Voltron branches. Greg worked out that the Paladins left in May, which looks accurate from the scenery.

Note: I live in the desert, and yes, there is a difference between Spring and Fall. The sun light in S1 E1 looks much more like Spring light than Fall light.

So, the Paladins and Shiro left Earth in the Blue Lion on May 2nd, 2319.

Seasons 1-6 take place roughly throughout the rest of 2319 and I believe into 2320.

This is where things get complicated.

By December of 2319, these are the Paladins' ages:

Going along with the timeline, Keith does his two year age jump in the Quantum Abyss sometime in the first half of 2320.

So, the first half of 2320, the ages are:

And at the end of 2320, the ages are:

Take a good, long look at those ages for the second half of 2320.

Most people will be hung up on the fact that Lance is 19 and Pidge is 16. It's a 3 year age difference.

But what is Keith's age minus Lance's age? 22-19?

3 years.

Let's repeat that.

22-19 = 3.

Keith is 3 years older than Lance due to his two year jump in the Quantum Abyss.

Now before y'all come at me, finish reading the entire post.

Pidge and Lance are only 2 years apart for roughly 3.5 months, from April - July.

Lance and Keith are only 2 years apart for roughly 3 months, from July - October.

Thus, because of Keith's time jump, Lance and Keith are as far apart in age as Lance and Pidge.

Actually ... Pidge and Lance are technically closer in age by roughly two weeks.

"But 22 and 19 are better than 19 and 16 because 22 and 19 are adults!" I can just hear some of y'all screaming this at the computer.

Here's a fun little fact:

Just because someone is 18 and a legal adult does not necessarily mean it is okay for them to date another legal adult.

Someone at 19 can still be in a very predatory relationship with someone who is 22.

Klancers who are saying that their ship is more "moral" are just wrong.

It's not more moral. Either Klancers don't know how to math or they're willing to look the other way when it comes to what they want.

And before my words are twisted and taken out of context, I'm not saying Keith and Lance would have a predatory relationship. But the logic that their three year age gap is better than Lance and Pidge's because it's "more moral" doesn't hold any ground and is flawed.

Do Klancers honestly think a story with a 23 year old Pidge and 26 year old Lance is worse than a 23 year old Lance and 26 year old Keith?

Make it make sense.

If Pidge having a crush on Lance when she's 15 and he's 17 and then turns 18 is bad, then no one should have celebrity crushes - or just crushes in general. Ever. Until they're at least 21.

Do you really think a 19 year old Lance would date a 16 year old? I don't think so. Where are your morals if you think Lance would do that? And, quite frankly, neither of them are ready to date at the end of the series (before we get the 5 year in the future photo). Lance is still mourning the loss of Allura and Pidge is focused on improving the Garrison.

Not to mention all of the trauma and therapy everyone needs to go through. They need time to process and work on themselves. But I can see a Pidge and Lance in their 20s connecting with each other. They're a perfect balance of each other.

But, again, that's another post for another day. Don't worry - it's coming.

Right now, though, I'm gonna go water some Plance - I mean, plants.

[bylersboy]

hey y'all I know we hate on affirmations (and by y'all I mean myself because so many of them are like "I love myself sooooo muchhhh 🎀" and it feels fake as shit and I hate it) but like honestly ive been trying to find ways to help myself cope with fuck ass moral OCD cause ya know it makes my life horrible and its been kind of fun to think of affirmations. its nice to have time to be mindful of what im writing down as well because ocd is a disorder that seeks reassurance and so just getting reassurance doesn't really do much in the long run. anyways here's what ive written in my journal so far !!

my actions do not have malicious intent

I am not the root of injustice

I spread kindness

I am allowed to enjoy things

obviously like its great to be mindful of the injustice in the world and to be conscious of the things you buy and spend money and etc etc but as someone with OCD its not a disorder where these thoughts of "you shouldn't have bought this and you should have reblogged that activism post" are helpful and mindful. these thoughts are internally destructive and they just create such horrible spirals because ill buy a nice piece of clothing and thing "wow I shouldn't have bought that someone else could've wanted this more than me and i'm a bad person for taking this opportunity away from someone" or like today I saw lots of homeless people because I was in the city and I thought "if that homeless person asked me to go into the store and buy him a water bottle I dont know what I would do because if I bought a water bottle it would be plastic and then I would be contributing to the spread of micro plastics and the deterioration of our environment but if I DIDNT buy the water then I would be a horrible person for not helping this homeless man" and so I guess my point is affirmations might not be true for every single person. someone with a shopping addiction shouldn't be like "hey its okay im allowed to enjoy things im excusing my addiction to spending money on clothes" but someone with OCD who struggles with these kinds of thoughts might really benefit from these kinds of affirmations. OKAY THAT WAS SUCH A RAMBLE. im not going to apologize cause its my blog and I can post whatever I want teehee but I do want to say that I think this blog might have more frequent posts about my mental health specifically OCD. not anything really depressing but things that are educational so if you dont want to see that and you just want your dash to be a fun thing where you look at fan art and stuff feel free to unfollow cause you have free will !! okay bye guys

[javiercigsrete]

Web of lies

Spinning webs part one

spider-man!javier x f!reader.

dividers by @ saradika-graphics

main masterlist | spinning webs masterlist

summary: lies are easy, until there's a whole web of them to keep. 3.7k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pov swapping, out of character javier but also in character spider-man, inaccurate timeline, mentions of drug cartels, mentions of dead bodies but no real descriptions, fighting, typical spider-man stuff, small explicit thoughts but not very detailed, no use of y/n, not proof read because i cannot bring myself to do it so if there's any mistakes i'll fix them later, if i missed something lmk i'm bad at warnings grhggfjg

a/n: okay omg it's finally here!!! the first part of my spider-man au fic omg i can't believe it's taken this long, i was gonna post it for my birthday i'm like a few hours off but oh well. idk what more to say other than i really hope y'all enjoy it because it took my blood, sweat, and tears to make this.

He’s so fucking late, more so than usual, and it’s all because of that stupid car chase on the otherside of town. How he’s going to get himself out of being scolded this time he isn’t sure, he’s honestly amazed he managed to keep this job for as long as he has, granted it’s no doing of his own, that was all you.

You’ve always been so willing to cover for him, even without knowing the full context, not that you’ve ever asked or expected him to tell you. Javier has a feeling it has something to do with the rumors spread about him.

It’s stupid really, the rumors, he can’t deny them per say because they’re true. He never saw it as a big deal on how he got information, after all it was just two people working to get by, so what if it so happened to be in the bedroom? The information was almost always accurate.

He just wishes — hopes — you didn’t believe them and the image they paint him, when there’s other things he’d much rather you know about, like how exhausting it is to swing halfway across town and try not to be even more late.

You swear you’re going to strangle him when he shows up, if he ever shows up. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep stalling for him with this case, you’ve told at least three people you were still investigating, one of them being the Captain.

You’re not entirely sure why you still cover for him aside from the obvious that he’s good at his job, or perhaps you enjoy working with him more than you’d like to admit. When he’d been first transferred over from Colombia you were skeptical at first, having heard about his involvement in the terrorist group Los pepes, but when he’d arrived everyone was congratulating him and calling him a hero.

Except you. You suppose that’s why you got along surprisingly quickly, neither of you held him on some pedestal like the others did, and he never took credit for Escobar. Oftentimes you’d ask him why he still did it after everything, why he still came to work with people who viewed him as a hero and some who thought he should be locked away for what he did.

“I made mistakes, I want to make them right by stopping Cali,” he’d confessed one night, you both had stayed late to finish up some paper work you’d fallen behind on, it was just the two of you then. Alone together in the silence, two glasses of whiskey and more cigarettes being burned then any actual work getting done, but it had given you a chance to get to know him better and brought you closer as partners and friends.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by a familiar gravelly voice, when you turn you spot those signature aviators, his shirt tucked away in his pants with the top two buttons undone. He looks like he’s run a marathon, sweat covering his skin, his chest heaving under his shirt, when he’s close enough you finally speak up. “You’re late Peña,” you say, more bite to your tone then you mean for.

“I know I know, I missed my alarm and then traffic was crazy,” he huffs out, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “What do we have?” Javier adds, placing his hands on his hips as he examines the scene. There was police tape everywhere, evidence markers layed out throughout the area. He could hear the comoten from the reporters behind them, doing his best to keep his full attention on you.

“Probably late teens early twenties, he was carrying drugs on him. Found traces of it on his fingers,” you begin to explain, watching as Javier mulls over what you’ve said, you can see the moment he comes to the same assumption you had.

“Think the Cali was involved somehow?” When he looks at you your lips are pressed together in a thin line with a look that tells him everything he needs to know.

You stand to the side as Javier does his own investigation, watching the way he circles some of the evidence, crouching to get a better look at certain things. As irritating as it is covering for him he’s always been good at his job, when you two were first sent into the field you weren’t sure if it was a good idea but after watching him in the field you’d found some understanding.

Your attention is pulled away from Javier by the sound of the police waiving off the crowd as they prepare to clean the crime scene, you tap Javier’s shoulder to gain his attention watching as he turns on his heel looking up at you from the ground. “C’mon, we should get going,” you jut your thumb over your shoulder to the police and forensics team preparing to move the body. Javier nods standing from the ground with a slight grunt.

“Hey, can I ride with you?” You stare at him for a moment, confusion falling across your face. You consider saying no, surly he’d come with his own car? But the longer you look at him the more you notice how exhausted he is, you simply nod your head leading him to your car.

You hadn’t said a word to Javier the whole car ride, and not even after getting back to the office. You sit across from him, stewing for another hour before you finally say something. “Do you take your job seriously?” You blurt out, breaking the stagnant silence.

Javier’s head whips up so fast you swear he gave himself whiplash. “What?” The hand holding his cigarette falling down against his desk, it was just the two of you, another late night. He was used to the conversations between you when you both stayed late like this, but something about your tone felt serious, not the same casual or playful tone he’d grown to enjoy while working with you. “Of course I do, why would you ask that?”

You sigh, shifting your gaze up to him. “You’re always late Javi, leaving me to cover for you and then showing up with some lame excuse,” you’ve never truly had an issue with covering for him but now you’re starting to wonder what kind of trouble the two of you could get into over it. You glance at the time letting out a tired sigh, “if you really are serious then stop being late. I can’t cover for you forever,” you let out exasperatedly, standing from your desk.

Javier runs the palm of his hand along his nose, watching as you leave the building. He knows you’re right, where you’re coming from, and god does he wish he could just tell you why but he can’t. So for now all he can do is stay here and finish the work.

His eyes are burning, no amount of rubbing them will help relieve any of the pain. He should be used to staying up this late at this point but it was like all the lack of sleep he’s had in the last week has finally hit him, practically falling asleep at his desk while he pours over all the information and evidence from this morning. He wants it to make sense, needs it to, it’s not uncommon for cartels to kill one of their own but something about it felt off, like something was missing.

He had questions, why would they have left the drugs there? Why leave the body there? He knew the cali cartel, he liked to think he knew them pretty well. Well enough to know they wouldn’t have left a body out in the open like that, would’ve made sure there was no way anything could be traced back to them.

Javier looks through the photos for the umpteenth time tonight, hoping his tired eyes will spot anything that he hasn’t already seen. “Fuck,” he mutters, desperately blinking the sleep from his eyes trying to refocus them, that’s when he spots it, a small puncture mark small almost vein like marks branching off from it. 

He brings the image closer to his face, and just the same as before the mark is there, he’s not sure how he missed it the first time he’d looked at the body let alone how the police missed it. But then again it took him nearly three hours to notice it, he quickly makes a note of it so he’ll remember it in the morning, placing it in his back pocket as he cleans up the papers before closing up for the night.

You think you’re starting to hallucinate when you see Javier sitting at his desk, a lit cigarette between his lips, you slowly approach your desk, your eyes still on Javier like if you looked away he’d be gone. “You’re early,” you mutter, slightly in disbelief that he’s actually here.

His attention shifts up to you, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, smoke falling from his mouth as he answers. “Got up to my alarm this time,” a grin spreading along his face as you look at him annoyed.

“Hilarious,” is all you manage to say as you sit down.

You spend most of the morning in silence, going over all the evidence from yesterday hoping to find anything that you don’t already know. None of it made sense, not fully, the Cali have been silent for the most part, staying off the radar as well as a drug cartel can. So why suddenly put yourself back on it?

The sound of a file hitting the desk startles you, looking up to find Javier reaching for the file that's been left. His deft hands opening the brightly colored envelope, curiosity fills you as he pulls the papers from it. “What’s that?” You ask before you have a chance to stop yourself. Javier’s eyes skim the paper before drifting up to you.

“Autopsy. Had it run this morning,” he states simply, stubbing out the cigarette before rounding the desks. He places the paper in front of you while he stands behind you. “Here,” he points to a line, your eyes follow the point your brows furrow as you read over the words cause of death—

“Poison?” You gasp out, shock filling your tone as you turn to look at him. When your eyes meet his, he doesn't look nearly as surprised as you, like he’d known before the autopsy came back, only having it run to confirm his suspicions. Your brows pull together once more, a creese forming between them, how would he have known already? “How long have you known?” You inquire skeptically.

Javier’s eyes break from yours as he reaches back over to his desk for the photos of the body. “Since last night.” His tone holds an edge to it, a seriousness you’ve only seen a handful of times, you suppose it makes sense now, why he’d been here so early. Just like the autopsy he places the photo before you and points to a spot, “see that?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder more so that his face is right next to yours, you feel heat rising up the back of your neck at his proximity. He’s so close you can smell the cigarette smoke mixed with his cologne and a hint of mint from the gum he’s got in his mouth.

You wonder briefly what it would be like to taste him, hints of nicotine and mint and something more, something so distinctly Javier mixing with your own as you both explored each others mouths, heavy breathes mingling together in the air as his hands wandered the expanse of your body while your own crumpled and ruffled his shirt and hair. You quickly shake those thoughts away, scolding yourself silently, he was your best friend and partner you needed to focus.

Your eyes fall back to the photo, searching for something you now know should be there. You spot it fairly quickly, a small wound on the victims neck, dark veins spreading from it like a spider web. “They poisoned him? But why shoot him too?” Nothing about this made sense, everything just kept getting more confusing.

When you look at Jabier he’s standing up right, his arms crossed along his chest as he stares absentmindedly at the floor. There’s something he’s not telling you about this case, something that could change the entirety of it if he would just say something.

“What aren’t you—” you’re cut off by the sound of his phone, he pulls it from his pocket, the light of the screen illuminating his face. His expression shifts into something unreadable, his shoulders falling before rising again.

He pockets his phone again, his eyes never fully meeting your own as he speaks. “I gotta go,” he’s already collected his things and is up the steps and out the door before you fully process what he’s said.

Your eyes stare at the door, replaying the conversation over and over, there was certainly something he wasn’t telling you and you were going to find out.

Everything about this place was sketchy, far too sketchy for the Cali. Sure it was the perfect place to set up your drug production but from what he scouted out it had been abandoned for awhile, so why here? What were they doing here?

He sits perched atop a street lamp across the street, he’d gone for one far enough he wouldn’t be detected but he was too far away he couldn’t see through the window properly if at all. He’d have to get closer.

The inside is dark, windows painted over keeping any light out and any prying eyes out as well, every other entry way was sealed shut either recently or years ago, all except the front door that opened immediately for him. “Let’s hope no one's home,” Javier muttered to himself, pushing the door further open.

The building was dimly lit inside, shadows filling up the majority of the space, only a few crates left abandoned scattered around. He cautiously makes his way to the lone source of light sitting on a desk, the closer he gets the more he could see. Papers scattered across the surface, parts of technology both broken and unfinished unceremoniously thrown atop the desk, he reaches out to the papers shifting some of them.

A few of them listed off times and places, others about scorpions, but the most interesting of them all was the one that held information on each of the leaders of the Cali. Everything about them was listed on it, from deceased family members to how many wives and children they had. Someone was after them and from the looks of it they knew them well.

The further Javier looked the more he learned, that’s when he spotted it, a document of sorts. “Mutation? Scorpion DNA?” His eyes ran over every word written, they’d been experimenting with more than just drugs apparently, but why?

A buzzing, a pressure in his head like an incessant drum banging against his skull as if in a warning, he’s quick, jumping out of the way as a metallic tail comes down destroying the table and papers. “Woah, watch where you’re swinging that,” he taunts, receiving no response back from the other. It was covered head to toe in green metal, the majority of it was laced with technology, it resembled that of a scorpion when the tail came back up it was shaped like a stinger, not a scratch on it. It was like armor, the outside reinforced like a scorpion's own.

The other lunges again, swinging its tail once more at Javier causing him to jump back and up onto one of the railings. “Not much of a talker I see,” the scorpion grunts as it swings its tail again up at him, a strange substance that causes Javier to react quickly, throwing out an arm as he shoots a web at the venom laced tail that knocks it away from him.

“Can I call you scorpion? Or is that too on the nose?” He taunts again trying to get a rise out of the other in hopes of getting answers from them.

They growl, an irritated sound that had all but crawled its way out of their throat. “Can you shut the fuck up?!” They shout, using their tail to lift a crate and throw it at him.

Javier flipped, swinging off the rail and using his other arm to web the crate and throw it back at the scorpion, who used the armor of their tail and arms to block it leaving the crate to shatter. “Ah, so you can talk.”

The two go back and forth like that, throwing crate after crate at one another while Javier tried desperately to avoid the venom coated tail, occasionally throwing in a quip or two. If he had to take a guess he would be this was the same thing that killed his victim.

“I take it you’re the one who did all this?” He gestures vaguely to the now destroyed desk and shredded papers, “why are you after the Cali Cartel?”

“They must pay for what they’ve done!” They bark, their tone cold hatred dripping from every word they utter.

“And they will, but what you’re doing is causing innocent lives!” He says, but the scorpion never replies, just charged at Javier, sending swing after swing until one finally lands, slicing through the fabric of Javier's suit.

He stumbles slightly, his vision unfocusing and refocusing as he grips at his bicep where blood and venom mix like a thread tangling together, his body makes a thud as he hits the ground. How could he let himself be so stupid as to let them get close?

“Stay out of my way, Spider-man.” The scorpion spits out as they look down at him before disappearing as Javier’s vision fades into black.

You pull into the parking space next to Javier’s jeep, so he was home. When you make it inside the sole elevator was already being used so you climb the few stairs up to his apartment, running everything from what you were going to say to him to all the suspicious actions up until now with every step you take.

You don’t even look at the numbers on the doors as you make your way through the hallway, having been too his apartment plenty of times during late nights working.

When you finally make it to his door you’re met with his door wide open, you instinctively reach behind you where your gun sat, your nerves set ablaze as you carefully make your way into the apartment. Everything is dark, the only light being the moon shining through the windows.

You take tentative steps, your eyes alert for anything out of the ordinary. “Javier?” You call out, your voice shaking slightly at the possibility of finding someone else, or worse.

There’s a crash, movement coming from the bedroom that catches your attention, your first thought is that he has someone over and forgot to close the door and that you should turn around and leave. But you know him better then that he wouldn’t have forgotten.

You step closer to the door slowly pushing it open, gun in hand as you prepare yourself. “Javi are you… Holy shi–” 

His head is pounding, his body aching with bruises that are sure to be there by morning. His arm aches, throbs, as his eyes blink open, he is still in the abandoned building, the sight of the railings greeting him when his vision clears. He groans, pushing himself up as every bone in his body screamed for him to stay down.

That’s when he hears it, a small weak gasp, his head snaps to the sound, a body, your body. He jumps up moving faster than his body can handle, the room spins, his vision fading as he stumbles towards you. He falls to his knees next to you, his vision focusing once more giving him a clearer look at your face.

“Cariño?” Javier asks quietly, his voice trembling, hie eyes search your body hurriedly for anything when he spots it, a wound with dark veins spreading from it. A lump forms in his throat, reaching out with shaky hands. “No… no, no, no,” he whispers, carefully picking up your arm to get a better look.

Fear drums through him, how did you get here? Why were you here? You look over at him, your eyes meeting as you softly whisper his name, he never responds, his gaze fixed on your eyes, your eyes weren’t that color. He stumbles to his feet watching as your body fades away, something wasn’t right. The buzzing, he looks down at his arm where he’d been cut by the scorpion, was the venom causing hallucinations?

It didn’t matter right now, he needed to get home and find a way to extract the venom. His vision is still slightly distorted as he makes his way out of the building, stumbling and falling through his attempts at swinging. At least twice now he’d seen you on the roof of a building either injured or dead, and everytime he’s had to shake the image reminding himself it wasn’t real.

His vision warps just as he prepares to swing to another building, he falls, his body hitting a fire escape, a groan escapes him closing his eyes to try and push through the pain. When his eyes open again he’s greeted to the sight of you, dead, your eyes clouded over as you as you tend to him, Javier shuffles backwards frantically. “This isn’t real, this is not real!” He repeats desperately as he finds his footing once more.

He barrels through his apartment door staggering his way towards his bedroom, he knocks over a few things as he searches for something, anything. He’s panting, breathing hard through the fabric of his mask, he claws at it tugging frantically at it in attempts to get it off, falling against his dresser causing a few things to clatter to the floor.

He hears it then, his name, he turns to the door spotting you standing there gun in hand as you call out to him.

“Javi are you… Holy shit.”

[thessalian]

Thess vs Lack of Accessibility

Is it petty to just be, like, really really sad right now?

I came to Tumblr because of the Dragon Age fandom. I hadn't been in a fandom in so long, not after the first one, which ... look, getting into a fandom while having a nervous breakdown is a bad thing, okay? Especially when that fandom has named you a BNF for some reason and the responses end up going from "nagging daily to finish a fic" to "long essays shitting on everything you ever wrote" and you're a people-pleaser by nature. Just ... that on top of everything else is ... not recommended. You have no idea how phobic I was of the very idea of fandom. I literally flinch when the media in question comes up (though I have some very good friends because of that fandom and I would not be without them; just ... I will avoid that particular piece of media the same way I do anything overly zealously Christian and conversations about politics with my mother, and for the same reason - my sanity).

Anyway, point is that the Dragon Age fandom gave me back my love of and, more importantly, trust in fandoms. Sure, there's some toxic bullshit, but it isn't like that. Y'all have been so wonderful, and between how awesome the fandom is and how DA: O itself really helped me cope during a particularly dark time, for all I flag up its flaws, I'm always going to have a soft spot in my heart for this franchise.

So of course it makes me happy that everyone's finding something to love about Veilguard and spreading it all over Tumblr. Picking their blorbos and squeeing about Assan and all of that, and it's everywhere. And on one level, I'd love to join in. I'd like to start thinking about what my Rook would be like - which of my internal presets would I send after Solas first? What faction would a Molly be a part of? A Jessie? A Jallira?

...Just ... why, when I probably won't even be able to play it?

One of the reviews had the reviewer literally screw up a livestream by getting knocked over a cliff because her reflexes weren't up to it, and highlighted just how much you need those reflexes and that dodge to actually get through the game. And she couldn't manage. And she's not, as far as I'm aware, fucking disabled. I, on the other hand, am. And it doesn't sound like easy mode and accessibility options are going to get me out of "you have to constantly dodge-roll or experience Death By Cliff".

For most things, I can budget my spoons appropriately. If I want to go to a convention - a big one like MCM or a small one like Dragonmeet - I can plan my life accordingly. But that's a one-off. So is "I'm going to bake things", or "I'm going to make soup", or "I'm going to Borough Market". I can have rest breaks after these things. I can plan them for good days. Most of the time, I can cope with this. I hate it, but I can cope.

But ... I mean, how do you do that kind of thing for a video game that runs so many hours? Too many breaks and you lose the momentum - far too many abandoned playthroughs of BG3 have taught me that. Waiting for good days could have me waiting a week or more before I'm up to even touching it again. If it's not a bad pain day, it could still be a day where I'm having spasms, and believe me, I don't touch anything that requires precision when I'm having spasms ... but sometimes I don't know until I'm trying to do a thing, so I could end up dodge-rolling myself off a cliff if I go to the spasm place.

Thankfully, I'm not the sort of person who turns around and resents the people who are looking so forward to it when I can only sit here and dither over what I'm going to do about this whole mess. I'm glad people are enjoying the anticipation. Just seeing it makes me sad, and I don't want to block the tags because a) I still have some tiny shred of hope and b) that's too many tags.

I resent the fuck out of EA and Bioware, though. I get that they couldn't necessarily go back to DA:O's real-time-with-pause tactical structuring, but moving us to something that's ... probably closer to Kingdoms of Amalur than anything Souls-like but there's still an element of that latter ... anyway, it's a giant fuck-you to the disabled. I've had one of those before. I got chosen for the closed beta of Secret World: Legends when Funcom was making its changes to The Secret World. I was not alone in flagging up that everything from the reticle targeting to the particle effects to the random-roulette light-up stuff all over the UI was a massive trigger for vertigo and migraines. And we all got the same response: "This is what we're doing and we're not changing it; sucks to be you". And it really wasn't that much more polite than my paraphrase, either. (Which is another problem with Veilguard for me, because even that first gameplay trailer full of prologue gave me a migraine that lasted for like two days; part of it was the particle effects, part of it was the glowy redesigns of all the demons, but mostly it was the dodge-rolling making the camera bounce around like a fucking squash ball.)

I resent EA and Bioware for jumping so entirely on the ARPG train that even the best their accessibility options can do don't help. I also resent them for not giving us a fucking demo. I know that AAA games don't do that anymore, for some reason, but how the fuck am I supposed to know whether or not I can play it if I don't have a demo? Steam gives a two-hour return window, and adding the time taken in character creation plus the prologue, that doesn't give that much time to really get a feel for whether or not it's playable, especially not when it depends on the kind of day I'm having.

There are a lot of reasons I hate being disabled. I think most of them boil down to "the people who make accessibility a fucking nightmare". That thing about Borough Market, for example, where I'd have to take a fairly roundabout route to even get there because the most direct route is via a train station that has raised platforms and no elevators, and those stairs were a nightmare even before the cane. And of course, video games. Far too many video games. Including, it seems, the franchise that really got me back into video games in the first place, and one of the first things that really gave me joy after fleeing the abusive ex.

Fuck my life entirely.

[sarathrwizard]

@sarawiz I don't know if you'll see this but you did the right thing. I'm so happy there are people willing to speak up about this. But I wanna get this straight as Sara said before we do not hate you, I promise you we don't, it's the sin that we hate and yeh you may not believe us and u don't have to but yes homosexuality is a sin. But there was no reason for all the hate Sara got for what she and a lot of others including me believe in. Why can't we just agree to disagree anymore like anytime someone doesn't have the same opinion or belief as everyone else you just hate, ridicule, and belittle them for it. Also just because she has her beliefs and wanted to speak up about it doesn't mean you have to just leave her content forever just because she doesn't have the same views as you. There are a lot of people on here making rottmnt content that have beliefs and views I don't agree with but I still like the stuff they make and continue to follow them. Obviously we can't tell you how to live your life and what decisions to make cause it's your life but what me, Sara, and others are trying to say is we don't want the LGBTQ stuff shoved down our throats and be told it's normal, we are just trying to do is what God put us on this earth for, to spread his word, love, and kindness. Y'all don't have to listen or convert or anything again we can't tell you what to do in your lives, but you can if you want to and to Sara, don't back down. Keep moving forward, you will get a lot of hate like Jesus said:

"Remember the word that I said to you, 'A servant is not greater than his master.' If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you; if they kept my word, they will also keep yours".

John 15:20

As my parents have told me before, if you are getting a bunch of hate and backlash from sticking up for the Lord and your beliefs, it means your doing the right thing. But if your doing something for God and there is NO hate or backlash, then somethings wrong. I'll leave you with this Sara, keep going and don't you ever stop, keep making your rottmnt stories I love them so much and keep doing what the Lord has put you in this world for. And to the others, say what you wanna say, it doesn't hurt us, in reality its gonna hurt you when judgement day comes and you are face to face with God. If you want to follow God, amen but if not it is what it is ya know, okay we've said our peace. Sorry for such a long message but I just hope I got my point across and also I'm not a very good writer. But thanks for all you do Sara and continue making your amazing content. God bless you ❤️

And as it is said in the Bible. (God's word)

9 Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who submit to or perform homosexual acts, 10 nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor verbal abusers, nor swindlers, will inherit the kingdom of God.

1 Corinthians 6:9-10

Bless your heart @xxtorixx07! You will be in my prayers! And I pray that when hard times come to you, you will seek God! Lord bless you!

[jackatronics]

⚠ STOP THIS BULLSHIT!!! ⚠

EARN IT AND KOSA ARE BILLS THAT ENDANGER OUR RIGHTS TO PRIVACY, THEY DO NOT HELP IN WHAT THEY CLAIM TO SOLVE, THEY AIM FOR MASS CENSORSHIP, AND THEY ENDANGER MINORITIES SUCH AS ONLINE LGBTQIA+ COMMUNITIES, SEX WORKERS, ETC.

The KOSA (Kids Online Safety Act) and the EARN IT Act, are U.S laws that if passed, will fucking wreck this country more than it already has.

Look, this account is not a political account, and I do not wish to entirely associate this art/reblog account with politics but this is an exception because it NEEDS to be said.

I'm going to try my best to keep it simple, and I will not get to FULLY elaborte on everything, I'm just letting you guys get the overall gist of it (check sources and links below!!!)

In a nutshell, these acts wish to remove encryption and allow everything you send, recieve, and look at to be viewed and surveilanced to an unethical and unconstitutional degree. Both of these acts claim to help children stay safe online, when really it will do the opposite. It will lead to mass surveilance and censorship online, and a lot of LGBTQIA+ content will also get censored unfairly. EARN IT, specifically, would actually make it MORE DIFFICULT for child sexual predators to get caught, because the pushed surveilance does not follow the 4th Amendment, making evidence gathered by these means unusable in an actual court.

I'm going to link more sources below for y'all to both read more about it from people who can elaborate better, and to help push back AGAINST KOSA AND EARN IT.