#but honestly the more languages the better

[buggachat]

SEASON 6 ILLUSTRHATER THOUGHTS

honestly, I was expecting the animation to be more jarring for me than it actually was. It was actually really easy for me to get into and tbh just looks really nice. Adrien is the character I'll need to get used to the most, but I like his look fine, I just need to get used to it.

But like. special shoutout to nino. NINO????? NINO LOOKS. SO FUCKING CUTE. I love him so much I want to squish his face?? I'm almost unable to watch this episode in a normal way because I'm too busy staring at Nino's adorable face the whole time.

the DJWifi was so cute in this episode. theyre so sweet

in general I really like the redesigns of all the characters. I think they all look like... them. Like Nathaniel looks more like Nathaniel to me, Kagami looks more like Kagami, Sabrina looks like Sabrina and Ivan looks like Ivan. I can't describe it — they look like they've matured enough to have a better understanding of who they are. I like it.

Also, the intro sequence. If there's still any doubt about whether the show will address "marinette's lie coming back to bite her / looming over her" this season, I feel like the intro answers that pretty clearly and with a distinct tone

Another thing — the background characters look soooo much better in the new animation. Not only do they not look like terrifying low res monstrosities like they did in the old show, but they have such a wide array of distinct body types that i really appreciate. a lot of diversity in the crowds w race and disability too. and they look good. it's really refreshing.

I. LOVE. the new butterfly-telepathy sequences. the way that butterfly!lila talks to her victims in a little dreamscape where she's able to use her body language and manipulation tactics. I cannot actually emphasize how much this strangely excited me. It feels so much more emotionally impactful and interesting and dynamic and Lila than what Hawkmoth did

I know people are going to be upset about Marinette being awkward around Adrien again, but I feel like it makes a lot of sense to me. In the more general sense, it makes a lot of sense for this soft-refresh of the show that is marketing itself to a new audience to re-introduce the adrienette dynamic in a way that is just a smidge redundant to old fans. This is kind of important background on how Adrien and Marinette have always been with each other and the context of their relationship! That's important to show.

As a more in-character/universe explanation — while, yes, Adrien and Marinette started to get much more comfortable in their relationship in the old season, they never really got time to BREATHE. they were awkward and messy for the majority of their time together in s5, and then right as they started to get comfortable, Gabriel started puppeteering Adrien in a way that made things pretty tense for them, and then a whole whirlwind happened where he was sent away, and then his DAD DIED and he presumably spent a lot of the summer in mourning and— and— i dunno. I don't think it's too much of a stretch for me to believe that their relationship still feels awkward, especially when a new butterfly villain just popped up and likely reminded marinette of the whole Fiasco and threw her into mega-stress mode.

Their relationship isn't technically all that "new" like they act like it is, but this IS actually probably the first time they've been able to go on regular dates like this! So it feels new, they're still sort of in that "new" stage. Before, Gabriel was keeping Adrien away, and then Adrien probably wasn't in a good headspace for a lot of the summer after he died.

(Also, I just enjoy watching Marinette be awkward about Adrien. I definitely prefer them re-treading some old ground to new audiences than for their relationship to feel too jarringly different than how we've seen them interact in the past. I wouldn't want the time skip to be used as too much of a crutch, especially when I expect that Adrien spent a lot of it in mourning)

But anyway, they're still kissing in the season intro, and this is only episode TWO of the season, so I'm excited to see them gradually get more lovey dovey as the season goes on. (Or for Marinette's stress and guilt to overwhelm her! Who knows! I'm down!)

Oh also, Ladybug looks SO GOOD. she is so shiny and pretty and I love the red in her hair and i love her and I love ladynoir talking about their relationships and and and. and. i love them. thanks for coming to my ted talk

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 44: Little Shit

Summary: John has left a mess in his wake. Can the pack pick up the pieces before it's too late?

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,659 words

Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, a/b/o, angst, language, some fluff, kissing, Simon being an asshole, angst

A/N: I'm actually very excited for this one and I know you will be too

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

It’s cold out. It feels fitting, a mirror of the emptiness in your soul. They’re not happy about you being out here, but you don’t care. You don’t care about much right now. You’re wrapped in a blanket regardless, tucked into the chair, curled in, making yourself as small as you possibly can. There’s a need deep within you to feel protected and safe. Part of you had wanted to curl up in bed and lay there for the rest of time, but another part of you desired to sit outside and stare at the sea in the distance. A deeper part of you wanted to go, but you know they’d shut that down as fast as the words could come out of your mouth.

They don’t seem eager to do much of anything for you right now.

It’s a fair assumption. They’re all dealing with John’s absence as much as you are. There’s a definitive hole in your pack, and no one will be able to fill it, no matter how hard they try.

“If you’re going to sit out here, at least drink something warm.” A cup of tea is set down on the table before a figure lowers themselves into the chair next to you with a grunt. “’S cold out.”

“Feels good.” You murmur, ignoring the steaming cup. Of course he’d bring tea. He wouldn’t be caught dead drinking coffee after the playful rivalry that’s been ongoing between coffee drinkers and tea drinkers in the cottage. At least that can continue even in the tumultuous state of the pack.

It falls silent between the two of you, an awkward silence. He’s the last person you expected to join you outside. He’s been avoiding you like the plague, but then again he’s been avoiding you as much as possible since you arrived at the cottage. You know he doesn’t hate you, but you’d almost prefer it. The distaste he held for you back when you first joined the pack would be preferable to this quiet avoidance he’s wedged between the two of you.

“You...doing okay?” He asks, and you almost laugh in response.

Of course you’re not. He knows you’re not. He’s perceptive and aware. He knows what you’re feeling even without you having to say it. He’s asking purely because of societal expectations, but he already knows. He’s not stupid.

At least in his head.

“No.” You answer honestly, tucking your blanket up tighter around you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks hesitantly.

“Do you want me to talk about it?” You retort. “Feelings aren’t really your thing.”

He shifts in the chair, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Because you trust Johnny and Kyle more?”

“It has nothing to do with trust.” You say, your brows furrowing. “You’re just not the most...open person to talk to. Didn’t think you’d be interested in talking about feelings.”

“I’m just trying to be supportive.” He says.

“Well you’re doing a shit job at it.” You snap back.

Things fall silent between the two of you again, the wedge pressing on the edges of your bond, the little bond you have left. He’s done a good job at laying that barrier between the two of you, driving the space further and further in his distance. He’s the last person you want right now, but he’s the only one you have.

You let out a long breath, the air steaming in front of you. “He just had to be the one to go after Shepherd.” You say bitterly, your thoughts coming out before you can stop them. “He really just up and left and for what?”

“To make sure the pack is safe.” Simon says simply. “Alphas leave all the time.”

“But he didn’t have to! Not right now,” You say, turning your head to look at him finally. “Not when things were finally starting to get better.”

“He thought he had to.” Simon says, glancing sideways at you. “You know how he is.”

“Yeah and it sucks.” You say. “I wanted him to be better, to try harder to not think about the big picture...to think about me.” You let out a shuddering breath as you try to hold the tears back. “Just...why? Why him?”

Simon is quiet for a moment. “You wish I had gone instead.”

You give him a look. “You know that's not what I meant.”

“Is it? Because it sounds like it.” He says. “Would have been better if I had gone anyway.”

“Why, because then you wouldn’t have to deal with me?” You say, hurt and anger starting to churn in your chest. You’re getting frustrated with him and his emotional constipation.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well it sounds like it.” You throw his own words at him, turning fully to face him now. “You really don’t want to be stuck here with me, in charge of me. Be honest.”

He’s silent for a breath, obviously trying to figure out how to answer in a way that’s going to hurt you the least. You don’t care. You want him to be honest and open, even if it does hurt. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s not an answer.” You say, letting the blanket drop from around you. You’re worked up enough from the emotions coursing through you, you don’t need it anymore.

“It’s the only answer I have.” He says, his voice firm.

You let out a sharp breath through your nose, pushing yourself up to stand. Some deep, twisted part of you wants to throw the tea at his face in anger, but you don’t. You won’t. You’re not brave enough for that. Instead you shove at his shoulder, barely making him budge. “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

You turn on your heel, storming back into the house.

“Well you're certainly not winning any popularity contests.” Kyle says, leaning against the door frame. 

“Piss off.” Simon growls, his shoulders hunched and tense like a coil ready to spring. 

Kyle glances over his shoulder as something thuds in your room. He wonders what it is you’ve thrown this time. Maybe yourself. That’s Johnny’s problem for now. Instead he steps out the door, sliding it closed behind him before making his way over to the tense alpha.

“You really are shit at this.” He says, sinking down into the chair you were sitting in. It’s still warm from your body, and so is the blanket as he drapes it over his lap. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“I shouldn’t have to try at all.” Simon snaps.

“But you don’t have a choice right now.” Kyle says. “I know you’re scared.” He cuts off Simon before he can protest. “Shut up, I know you’re scared of having this much power, of doing something wrong, of hurting her, but you’re not doing anyone any favors being all moody. You’re throwing her off and you’re throwing the rest of us off.”

Simon stays silent, staring out into the distance as Kyle continues to speak.

“John did what he did and we can’t change that. There was no changing his mind. You know that more than the rest of us. Now you have to step up. He trusts you to do that. He trusts his omega with you. That speaks volumes of his trust in your ability to take care of his pack.” Kyle reaches over, putting a hand on Simon’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “We’re right here with you. You don’t have to be scared.”

Simon slowly begins to relax, his shoulders lowering and jaw unclenching as Kyle continues to rub his shoulder, projecting his scent to try and diffuse the tension that had built in your exchange with the broody alpha.

“I hate it when you do that.” Simon grumbles, sinking further into the chair.

“It works, though.” Kyle says with a soft smile. “You’re the alpha in charge now, so start acting like it.”

“I don’t know where to start.” Simon says softly.

Kyle squeezes his shoulder. “Maybe with an apology.”

“He’s just so...emotionally constipated.” You say, throwing another pillow at the wall.

“He’s just...goin’ through a lot right now.”

“So are the rest of us!” You say, spinning on your heel to grab another pillow. “And we’re all doing just fine at trying to adjust!”

“Are we?”

You let out a huff as you stare at him, disheveled from the fit you’ve been throwing. Johnny grabs the pillow you’re bee-lining for, holding it out of your reach instead.

“That’s enough.” He says, letting the pillow drop to the floor before he reaches forward, wrapping an arm around you. He drags you up onto the bed, sitting you down between his legs.

“I just don’t get it.” You murmur as you sit there, drawing your knees up to your chest as Johnny starts to comb his fingers through your hair. “Why John had to leave, why Simon is being so difficult.”

“Ye want the truth?” He asks, tugging lightly at your hair. He’s starting to braid it, something to keep his hands busy.

“No.” You say, resting your chin on your knee. “I already know.”

“He’s just as scared as the rest of us.” Johnny says anyway. “He’s never been in this position before. None of us have. Sure, John’s left on solos before, but things are different now.”

“Because I’m here.” You murmur, leaning into his touch as his fingers brush your ear.

“A lot has changed.” Johnny says. “Not just because of ye.”

“A lot because of me, though.” You say. “If I hadn’t been here, if I hadn’t been added to this pack…”

“Things would have still gone to shit eventually.” Johnny says. “The truth would come out, Shepherd would run for the hills, John would chase after him. Difference now is there’s something tae come back to.”

Guilt churns in your stomach as you sit there, unsure what to say as Johnny finishes braiding your hair.

“You really think he’s coming back?” You say quietly after a moment, that guilt still chewing away inside your stomach.

“Course he is.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back against his chest. “He loves ye, he loves all of us. He has to ensure Shepherd is gone before he’ll feel safe again, before he’ll feel it’s safe fer you.”

He’s doing it for you.

It’s not the first time you’ve had that thought since your alpha left you.

You lean your head against Johnny’s arm, staring out the window at the grey world outside. It feels so dull and oppressive. For once you miss the sun and warmth of summer, the feeling of life instead of the chill that’s settled in your bones. It’s not cold in the house, yet you can feel a chill seeping down beneath your skin and into your very soul.

You curl up tighter in Johnny’s arms, pressing closer to his chest as if you might be able to sink deep into his very being. Maybe there you’ll finally be warm and that ache will ease just a little. His arms tighten around you, trying to offer you comfort, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, not so long as John is gone. Your omega yearns for her alpha in a way you’ve never felt. You know separation can be hard on an omega, yet you’ve never quite experienced something like this.

Despite your hurt and anger and frustration, your omega longs to be in her alpha’s arms again. You want John to scoop you up and hold you tight in his arms and keep you there forever, safe and warm and protected.

Johnny’s trying his best, trying to offer you comfort but even he has to know it’s not enough. You need an alpha, you need someone there to offer some semblance of balance in the pack and for your omega. She’s not angry like she had been, but she’s restless still, pacing in her cage, waiting for something.

You let out a quiet breath, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you sit there in Johnny’s embrace.

The quiet moment is broken by your stomach growling.

Johnny’s chest moves as he huffs out a quiet laugh, squeezing you tightly. “Come on, kitten. Let’s get ye some food.”

He finally lets you go, letting you slide off the bed. You grab a sweater from the closet before heading out into the main living area. Simon has disappeared unsurprisingly. Probably upstairs brooding, where he spends most of his time when he’s in the cottage. He almost spends more time outside the cottage now. He has to be going stir crazy laying low for this long. They all have to be.

Johnny passes by, brushing his hand across your back as he heads for the kitchen likely to harass Kyle while he tries to make lunch. Dr. Keller is nowhere to be seen, likely taking as much time to herself as she can. She’s been helping as much as she can while your pack tries to adjust to this sudden change. Mostly she’s been helping you, but the others have been utilizing her knowledge and understanding as well. It makes you feel guilty, making her work so much, but of course she’d never admit to being tired or worn out by the constant state of crisis within your pack.

You stand there for a moment, lost in thought until something warm presses against your back. You tense, slowly turning around to look up at Simon. He’s looming over you, staring down at you with his face hidden behind that stupid mask. You wish you could see his face and read him, but you know deep down his poker face is impeccable and you wouldn’t be able to read him anyway.

“You’re doing it again.” He says, and you know what he’s talking about.

“Sorry.” You say quietly.

“Stop apologizing.” He says rather harshly, making you flinch. His shoulders slump just a little at your flinch, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.”

You blink up at him. This is rather unexpected.

“We’re all going through a lot right now, a lot of changes...but that’s no excuse to be a dick towards you.” He lets out another breath. “I’m sorry.”

You continue to stare up at him in shock, not expecting him to go so far as to apologize for his actions. Especially not right now. “Are you...apologizing?” You ask him in disbelief.

“Yes.” He says simply.

You stare up at him for a long moment, staring into those chocolate brown eyes. He’s so big and imposing, yet he seems so vulnerable in this moment. Something stirs in the back of your mind, your omega starting to preen a bit at the idea of him finally bowing down before you and allowing you to be in charge. He’s lowered himself enough to apologize...what else can you get out of him?

A low rumble echoes in his chest as you stare up at him, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “You really mean it?”

“Stop it.” He growls, his eyes narrowing. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” You ask innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

He clenches his fist, his shoulders squaring. “I hate this new side of you.”

Your grin only widens as you step up closer to him. “Doesn’t smell like it.”

“Alright you two, come eat before you stink out the house.” Kyle says, breaking the tense moment between the two of you.

You give Simon a wink before turning on your heel, leaving the reeling alpha in your wake as you make your way to the table.

“How are things going?”

It’s an innocent question, but it almost has you in tears. How are things going? Your pack is on the fringes of a breakdown, the bonds have never been more tense, you have an alpha that doesn’t want to be an alpha. How are things going? Not great.

“They’re okay,” You lie, your fingers tightening around the edges of the book in your lap. “It’s an adjustment.”

“I bet.” Ashley says sympathetically. “I can’t imagine this would be an easy change.”

“They’re doing well all things considered.” Dr. Keller swoops in, saving you from having to come up with a response. “The separation of an alpha can be a hard thing to cope with.” Her eyes are on you when she says it, making the guilt in your stomach twist itself into knots.

“You’re a lot stronger than I would be in this situation.”

It’s directed at you, and you bring yourself to offer a small smile in response.

In truth you feel like falling apart. You doubt either women would care. They’re both betas, caretakers. You’ve cried in front of Dr. Keller so many times you’ve lost count, and you doubt Ashley would look down on you for showing such weakness. It might actually feel good, letting the emotions out in front of two people who understand.

“You need anything, you let me know.” Ashley continues. “Even if it’s getting the boys out of the house.”

They are out of the house currently, well, Johnny and Simon left. Well, it was more like Johnny dragged Simon out of the house. Going on a run, they said. A long run. Maybe to town and back. A run to clear the head. A run to get those emotions out.

How you wish you could go for a run right now.

Kyle is somewhere in the house. Kyle. You feel guilty for how much you’ve withdrawn from the beta. You can only imagine how he’s feeling. His alpha has deserted him too. You both share that closer bond because of John and yet here you are keeping Kyle at arm’s distance. You have something to bond over, something to bring the two of you closer together in your confusion and the adjustments you both have to make.

Yet here you are holding him at a distance.

It only adds to the twisting of the guilt in your stomach.

The room has fallen silent, Ashley and Dr. Keller both staring at you. You blink yourself back into reality, looking between them. You got lost in your mind again, a habit you still can’t break. It’s gotten worse in your isolation, often left with nothing but your thoughts for company.

Whose fault is that?

“Sorry.” You say quietly, adjusting yourself in your chair.

“Welcome back.” Dr. Keller says, giving you a soft smile.

“A fellow over-thinker.” Ashley says, giving you a wink. “I understand 100%. Why don’t we move on to less intense conversation.”

You glance down at the book in your lap. In truth you haven’t read much of it. You haven’t felt like reading much in the last few days. You haven’t felt like doing much of anything these last few days. Life has gotten impossibly hard with the desertion of your alpha. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

You hadn’t expected it to be so hard.

Everything has been thrown off, even your desire to function as a member of the pack. If you can even call what you have a pack. You’re more like four independent planets all stuck in the gravitational pull of the black hole that is the bond you share. You’re slowly inching closer and closer to the event horizon, the point of no return when the gravitational pull will be too much and you’ll be sucked in and spaghettified in the intensity of your bond.

You’ll all be sucked in eventually. There’s no escaping.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

There is an escape, a way to find the velocity to pull yourself free of the looming event horizon, but the pain of it will be far greater than the pain you feel now. There will be no recovery, no promise of a future for you. It will be the end of everything. You’ll fall into a different black hole and there won’t be anything waiting on the other side.

“So what do you think of the main character?” Ashley asks, drawing you from your thoughts once more.

“I think she could use a break from everything she’s been through.” Dr. Keller says.

You and me both.

As the days continue to pass since John’s desertion, things don’t improve much. Simon is still fighting his new role, driving Johnny to recede into himself again. Kyle is like a lost ghost, floating around the house like a specter. You...you’re going insane with it all.

You can’t take much more of this up and down, this lack of surety, the pain throbbing in the back of your head from the constant tugging of your bond. Their lack of motion has you spinning out of control. You need to take control, you need to help them and yourself. The pack won’t last like this, so you have to make things happen one way or another.

Looks like you have to do everything yourself again.

“Where’s Johnny.” You ask Simon as he passes by you in the living room.

“Upstairs I think.” He says, skirting past you.

“Will you go get him please?” You say, turning around to face him. “We need to have a pack meeting.”

Simon stares down at you for a long moment before nodding. “Fine.” He grunts.

You step out of his way as he heads for the stairs, his footsteps thudding up the steps. You let out a long breath, half expecting you’d have to fight him harder than that. You move to stand in front of the fireplace, a few seconds passing before you hear movement upstairs.

Three sets of footsteps make their way down the steps, the other members of your pack appearing one by one.

“Sit.” You say, pointing in front of you.

They move silently, sitting themselves down on the couches. Simon by himself on one, and Johnny and Kyle on the other. They’re sitting further away than they have been. It makes your chest constrict as you stare at them.

You clear your throat, the words you had planned vacating your mind as you stand before them. You have nothing to be nervous about. They’re just the members of your pack, men you’ve been around for almost a year now. You know them in and out, better than they know you. Yet you can’t hide the nervous twisting in your stomach as you stand there vulnerably.

You close your hands into fists to hide them from shaking as you look across their faces once more.

“I’ve gathered you here today to have a serious conversation.” You say, trying to keep your voice from wavering. “About us as a pack.”

Johnny shifts in his seat at your words, all of them staring at you intently.

“I know John leaving has been hard on all of us, but we can’t keep just floating around like a bunch of ghosts. It’s eating me alive and I can’t take it anymore.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “So, seeing as how no one else wants to do so, I’m taking charge of this pack.”

Simon shifts slightly at your words, just a flinch but you catch it out of the corner of your eye.

“My alpha is the one that left, so I should be the one to step up in his place.” You state firmly, not letting the thickening of Simon’s scent throw you off. “You can call me alpha now.”

Simon’s hands clench into fists, his scent nearly knocking you off your feet. “You think it’s that easy, do you?”

You steady yourself. You prepared for such an outburst from the broody alpha. “Yeah. I do.”

“You’re just going to step up and play alpha while yours is away?” Simon rises to his feet. “What gives you the right?”

“Well, you won’t do it.” You snap, steeling yourself as he steps closer. “So someone has to.”

His eyes narrow at your words. You’ve hit a nerve and he doesn’t like it. Good, you think. Serves him right.

“We can’t keep going on like this.” You continue, trying to reason with him. “Someone has to take charge and since you won’t, I will.”

“That’s not your place, omega.” His scent slams into you again and you feel the urge to drop as your status slips out of his mouth.

“Then do something!” You’re shaking now, fighting off his dominance. He’s using his own status against you. It’s not fair, but it’s what you want. “Man up and be an alpha.”

“Hey!” Kyle is between you before Simon can take another step forward, pushing the alpha back. “You’re not helping anything getting all puffed.” Johnny is on his feet too, halfway between you and the couch. “She’s right.” Kyle continues. “We can’t go on like this. John left and we can’t do anything about that. We need a leader.”

“You want that to be me?” Simon scoffs.

“Well, yeah.” Kyle says. “You are second alpha. It’s your job to take John’s place in his absence. We need you to take his place.” Kyle pushes him back another step. “You have to decide. You can’t fight our omega on wanting to step up because you don’t want to step up yourself.”

You feel like passing out as you stand there, still trembling from the onslaught of alpha you had just faced. You’re proud of yourself for facing it as long as you did. Months ago you wouldn’t have even approached the subject, much less stood up to him like that.

If you were stronger, you might have fought him back.

“It’s me or you.” You say, stepping out from behind Kyle. “It can’t be neither of us.”

Simon stares down at you, his eyes hard. His scent has dispersed a bit, the heavy ozone of it fading. The scent of beta is pushing it aside, but your nose still burns from his anger. He’s still frustrated, but you can see the tension in his body lessening. You imagine his jaw unclenching, his shoulders lowering just centimeters. You’ve got him right where you wanted him to be.

You step around Kyle, putting yourself back in his space. Kyle doesn’t move, inches away from your back. He and Johnny are still as statues, waiting and watching what’s going to happen next.

You reach for Simon, putting your hands on his arms. You gently guide him back before pushing him backwards onto the couch again. He goes easily, slumping back into the cushions. You stand over him and he lets you take the dominant pose this time. You move yourself so you’re between his knees and you bend down to take his hand in yours. It’s rough and calloused, even time away from handling weapons unable to soften the roughness of his skin. It’s the first time you’ve touched his skin since the day he rescued you. It’s the same hand he used to scruff you, the same hand that saved your life.

“I don’t want to have to do it.” You say softly, tracing the back of his hand. “I’d prefer it were you.” You lift your gaze from his hand to his eyes. “I trust you to do it. I know that probably doesn’t mean much, but it’s the truth. John trusted you to save my life once, and you did. He trusts you to take care of his pack, and I do too.”

He stares up at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. You’re projecting your scent just a bit, trying to ease it deep into his brain where his alpha lies, use your power against him to convince him to take on this role so you can stop going insane.

“I need you, alpha.” You whisper.

His eyes darken, his hand tightening around yours. You’ve got him right in his soft underbelly.

He pushes himself up to stand, forcing you back half a step. Your chests brush as he looms over you, his scent thickening in the air, but not in the way it had before. The leather and natural muskiness invades your senses, seeping deep into your brain. You stare up at him, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Fine.” He breathes, dropping your hand. “I’ll do it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You got him hook, line, and sinker.

More days pass and slowly your pack begins to settle. Simon has shifted into his role easily, taking over as alpha. Johnny and Kyle no longer seem so weighed down, and the tumultuous energy has subsided a bit. You feel lighter, like some of the pressure has been lifted from your shoulders.

It has.

You’re no longer the only one holding the pack together, desperately clinging to the strings of your bonds. Simon is right there by your side, gluing them down so they no longer slip away.

You quite like him being alpha. He wears the title like a king and you find yourself feeling a stirring of excitement in your stomach every time you think of Pack Alpha Simon. It fits him, being in control of not just Johnny but everyone. Even Kyle seems a bit more at ease despite the missing link.

Your missing link too.

“Kyle?” You say softly, almost afraid to disrupt him where he sits on the couch reading.

“Hm?” He hums, glancing up from his book.

“I...was just wondering...how you were doing?” You wince at the awkwardness of your own words.

“Fine.” He shrugs, marking his place in the book.

“You’re sure?” You ask, slowly lowering yourself onto the opposite side of the couch. “I mean, our alpha is gone.”

Kyle nods slowly. “Yeah, he is.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I miss him.” You hate to admit it, but you do.

“I know.” Kyle says, reaching out for your hand. “I do too. He may be a shit alpha, but he’s our alpha.”

You can’t help but laugh a bit at his words. “That is true. You really think he’s coming back?”

Kyle nods. “I think so. I doubt he’d leave us high and dry. He loves both of us too much for that.”

You stare up at him. You forget just how much John cares for you and Kyle. It’s easy to forget with how he’s been acting lately. He left for you. He left for the good of the pack, to go eliminate the last threat hanging over your heads. Once Shepherd is gone, then you can finally move forward. You can finally decide what comes next.

What does come next?

Will they return to the military? Will they go back to the way life was before? You can’t expect them to give it up. You’ve come to that conclusion easily. They won’t leave that way of life without a fight, and you can’t ask that of them, not matter how badly you want to. You’ll go back to life on base, life the way it had been before. The constant worry and stress will always be a part of your life, no matter what. They’ll always put the good of the world above everything else. Even your pack.

They promised they’d start putting you first, but you can’t ask them to give up their livelihood for you. It’s been their whole lives. They’re all career soldiers, they all started early and haven’t known anything else. This is what they do and it will always be what they do until they die or are forced to retire. You’ll always be there, waiting for them back home, praying they come back breathing and not in a coffin.

You’ll always have nightmares of that phone call, of getting that news.

“You okay?” Kyle asks, squeezing your hand.

You look back up at him, staring into those deep brown eyes. “Yeah.” You nod. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Simon?”

Simon glances up from his phone, turning his head to the side. No word from John yet, but then again it could be too soon. He doesn’t know anything, and it’s driving him insane. He doesn’t like not knowing. He knows Shepherd had been found, though captured or spotted he’s none the wiser. John could have been going on a stakeout for all he knows. It could be weeks, months.

It’s been just over a week and he doesn’t know anything yet.

He hates it.

He turns his head to the side, staring at you. You’re standing there, looking small and timid next to the couch. So different from how you stood up to him days ago when you forced him to finally accept he’s in charge. He had to take on that role because John wanted him to. That’s why he knew first, that’s why John spent so much time preparing him. Simon have to take on this role eventually, whether he wanted it or not.

“Have you heard anything from John?” You ask, shifting on your feet.

It’s the first time you’ve asked about John. Sometimes he wonders what’s going through your head. You’re angry and frustrated with John, he knows that much. He can read that on your face. He knew from the teary goodbye, the look of despondency hidden behind the quiet confidence on John’s face when he walked out the door that something had transpired between the two of you when he told you. Maybe you already knew. Maybe you already understood this would happen eventually.

If John would have let him, he would have gone instead, if only to save you from having to face this.

It would have been easier for him to play the soldier and assassin. He’s done it many times before.

“Nothing.” He says honestly. Better to give you the truth than false hope.

John will return, even if you told him not to. He’s too stubborn for that. He won’t give up that easily. He’ll know you’d change your mind if you told him to stay away. You didn’t. He can tell that much, but he knows. He understands.

“Oh.” You say quietly, almost as if you’d had a false hope that there was word, some small message to let you know he’s alive, he’s well, he’s coming home.

He can’t come home soon enough.

You slowly inch around the side of the couch before sitting gingerly on the edge of the cushion. You’re moving like you’re approaching a wild animal, but in your mind you might just be. He’s not a wild animal. If anything he’s the opposite of right now. He’s tired, worn down from the sudden weight of responsibility. He wouldn’t even bare his teeth if he could.

You’re holding a book in your hand. You clutch it to your chest as you slowly lean back, scooting until you’re comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from him. Why you chose there and not across from him, he doesn’t know. You could have sat anywhere in the house and yet you decided to sit next to him.

Perhaps it’s some deep omegan need for comfort and security. You certainly need a lot of that right now. You’re going through a tumultuous time and you’ll need all the comfort you can stand. He’s the one that’s supposed to give that to you, yet he finds himself withdrawing from that desire, that need. You won’t want his comfort because he’s not your alpha. He’ll never be your alpha, he’ll never be good enough.

Simon sits there, still as a sniper as he watches you slowly inch your way into a comfortable seat. You haven’t spoken a word since your small, quiet acknowledgment of his answer to your question. Maybe you’re too afraid to speak more, ruin the moment, drive him away when you’ve so obviously sought him out for more than word on your absent alpha.

He stays there as you move, slowly shifting yourself on the couch until you’re curled up in the corner. It’s reminiscent of how you used to sit in the rec room all those weeks ago, curled up on the couch while he sat as far as he could from you, at least until those bonds began to grow, those steel-bound threads of alpha and omega began to wind themselves around you like nooses.

Bonds are like nooses. One fails they all do. That’s why he’s always hated them, why he’s always avoided them.

Why his mother never gave in.

His hand curls into a fist, nails digging into his palm as he forces the thoughts away, shoves his past down into the recesses of his mind where it belongs.

You seem ignorant to his inner struggle as you sit there, book open in your hands. You’re lost in a fictional world, ignorant of everything going on around you. How easily you slip into a realm of distraction, he’ll never know. There will always be a part of him that’s aware, hypervigilant to the world.

Maybe you can drift off so easily because you feel secure enough to do so. You feel safe enough with him there to sink deep into a stupor brought on by words on a page. It stirs something inside of him. Pride? Honor? Guilt?

You’ve sought him out for safety and security and here he is blocking you out more and more. You had to face him down to force him into this position when he should have stepped into it in the first place. He should have done more, been more. From the start he should have been a better alpha, even if he wasn’t yours, even if he’d never be yours. He’s an alpha in the pack, he should start acting like it.

The vulnerability that takes. The weakness he’ll have to show.

It’s okay. The soft voice of his mother floats through his mind. Better to be soft than hard like your father.

A shiver runs down his spine, making his whole body tense. It draws you out of your book, your head turning to look at him. Not quite so lost as he thought, then.

“Simon?” You ask quietly, concern lacing your voice. “What is it?”

Your omega must be sensing some sort of danger. He’s on edge, your omega is responding, looking for reassurance that there’s nothing wrong, there’s nothing there.

“Nothing.” He answers, forcing himself to relax. He has to put his hackles down, otherwise the moment will be ruined. “Just thinking too much.”

He’s not sure why he said it. Maybe it was because he knew it would draw that small smile on your face.

He likes it when you smile. You haven’t been doing much of it lately, but then again, you haven’t had much of a reason to. Why smile when the world is crumbling around you? Yet there are still moments when he sees that side of you, you let out on base. Those happy moments when life was good and easy and predictable. Back when he allowed himself to feel, to touch, to smell, to devour your very being.

He misses it.

No he doesn’t.

It’s too much of a risk, too much of a vulnerability to allow that again. He can’t open himself up to that when it will only lead to more hurt on your part. Everything ends in hurt. It’s all he can do, all he’ll ever do. He’s hurt Johnny, he’s still hurting Johnny. You’ll crumble in his hands too, slipping through his fingers like sand.

He sits there still as you begin to slowly shift yourself so you’re facing him, putting your back to the fire. He watches you from the corner of your eye as you begin to stretch out, joints cracking as they straighten. His eyes lower to your feet as they slowly slip across the couch, inching closer and closer to him. His hand twitches, his breath stilling in his lungs.

He can’t move. He’s stuck there, stuck watching as you slowly press upon the barrier between the two of you, breaking down that boundary he’s set in place with just a simple movement. He can see it crumbling as your bare toes inch closer and closer until they press against the soft fabric of his jeans. Just a brush, just a tickle against his leg.

“Do you have to do that?” He asks, still staring down at your toes.

“It’s a small couch.” You say simply, not even looking up from your book.

“There’s an empty one right there.” He nods towards the empty couch across from him.

“I like this one better.”

His hand closes into a fist as you push against his leg with your toes. That boundary is crashing down, crumbling brick by brick as your toes bend, feet arching as you push against his leg.

“What are you doing?” He still hasn’t moved. He can’t bring himself to.

“My toes are cold.” You say, turning a page in your book.

“There’s a fire right there.”

“I don’t want to get up.”

Little shit.

He swallows the growl crawling up his chest, swallows down the emotions threatening to choke him. He’s right back in the rec room with your toes on his arm as the two of you read in silence. You’d gone toe to toe with him then too, the snarky remarks flowing like water between you. How easily it came, how easily it flowed, how easily you faced him on and didn’t back down.

Fucking hell how he’s missed this.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t get up like he once might have. Instead he sits there, letting you rest your toes against his leg, even though he knows they aren’t cold.

Something draws you from the sweet edge of sleep and forces you back into the world of the living. You’re not sure what it is at first, unaware enough you can’t think rationally. You had been so close to the sweet bliss of sleep for your morning nap when something woke you. You try not to think about it, chasing that edge of tiredness that’s quickly fading from your mind.

A pain in your stomach pushes it even further away. It takes your breath away, pulling you right into the world of wakefulness. For a moment you think you might be dying. Appendix burst, GI bleed, some sort of horrible gas cramp. You did have a big breakfast after all.

No, it’s none of those things. That pain begins to shift, morphing into a gnawing feeling that grows until a low rumble sounds.

You’re hungry.

For a moment you wonder if you did sleep and you’ve slept through lunch. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s only eleven. Not quite time for lunch yet.

You try to ignore it, try to curl up and go back to sleep, but that gnawing pain continues, keeping you from finding that tiredness that drove you to seek out your bed in the first place.

Instead you sit up with a huff, shoving the blanket off of you. A snack it is then.

The gnawing pain continues as you rise from the bed, padding quietly over to your half closed door. You slip through the gap, the living area empty. Upstairs or outside then, you think.

You head for the kitchen, digging through cupboards as the pain in your stomach continues to intensify. If you don’t eat right this minute you might die. You want something fast, but all you’re finding is cans and packages of food you’ll have to cook. You don’t have time for that.

Desperately you search, your hands starting to shake as you comb through the cabinets for something that might calm the uncomfortable growling in your abdomen.

Finally you find an unopened package of cookies. Tea cookies, you think, but you don’t care. You nearly rip them open in desperation, shoving one in your mouth. They’re dry, but you don’t care. They may as well be manna from heaven in this moment.

You carry the package over to the sliding door, staring out at the yard as you continue to shove cookies into your mouth. It hasn’t rained in a few days, the deck starting to dry out finally. It’s still cloudy and grey though, the sea reflecting the sky in the distance.

You stand there, lost in space and time until you reach into the packet of cookies only to meet air and crumbs. You stare down at the package, your stomach still rumbling hungrily like an insatiable monster. 

Insatiable. Hunger. 

“Oh fuck.” You say, staring down at the package still. 

“What?” Kyle says, approaching you from behind. 

You turn on your heel, hand still in the package. “I’m hungry.” 

“It’s almost lunch time.” He says. “What would you like to eat?” 

“No, no.” You gulp. “I’m hungry.” 

He stares at you blankly for a moment before realization crosses his face. He stares at you wide-eyed, shifting on his feet nervously. “Oh shit.” 

“Sedation is an option but I’d have to get the supplies for it.” Dr. Keller says. “We’re not equipped here for something of that caliber. I can get the supplies, but we might not have enough time, even with Kate’s help.”

“It might be risky, drawing that much attention.” Kyle says. “People will have questions.”

“You’re not even nesting yet.” Dr. Keller says with a sigh, glancing at you. “This is bad timing.”

“It’s not like I can control it.” You say around a mouthful of chips.

You’ve already downed three sandwiches and you’re working on polishing off an entire bag of chips.

“I know.” Dr. Keller says softly.

“Is there any way to stop it from happening?” Johnny asks.

“Not without considerable risk.” Dr. Keller says. “Especially this close.”

“What do we do then?” Kyle asks, looking at you.

“It is possible for a beta to help, but it’ll be a long and painful heat without an alpha.” Dr. Keller says.

A hand lands on your shoulder as they continue to brainstorm. You look up from the bag of chips, a handful halfway to your mouth. Simon is standing over you, his hand on your shoulder. He tilts his head in the direction of your door before removing his hand. You blink at him as he walks towards it, pushing the door open before disappearing into your room. You shove the handful of chips in your mouth before putting the bag on the coffee table. You lick the crumbs off your fingers as you make your way towards the open door.

It’s bold of him, entering your room just like that, but your interest is piqued.

He’s standing next to the bed, fingers toying with the edge of the blanket tossed haphazardly across the mattress from your attempt at a nap.

“Simon?” You ask quietly.

“Close the door.” He says, turning around.

You pull it closed behind you, turning the nob so it doesn’t make any sound. Something tells you he wants to keep this as quiet as possible. Nerves start to rattle inside of you. What does he want? Why does he want to keep things quiet? They must notice you’ve disappeared, but Simon doesn’t seem to care either way.

“Come here.” He says, holding out his hand.

You approach slowly, a bit hesitant from the alpha being in your space. It is your space now, your room. Even if you haven’t nested yet, it’s still your safe, sacred space. He hasn’t been in your space yet. You haven’t even invited him in, and here he is just walking in and making himself at home.

Your fingers tremble as you slip your hand into his, letting him pull you closer. He toes off his boots before turning back towards the bed. You watch as he stares at the giant bear for a moment before he shoves it off onto the floor on the other side of the bed. It almost makes you laugh, it would have had you not been so nervous. What he’s doing is bold, and it’s leaving you unsettled.

He climbs onto the bed, sitting in your spot. He uses the hand in yours to pull you up onto the bed as well. He relaxes back against the headboard as you wind up in his lap, straddling his waist.

“What’s happening?” You say, staring at him wide eyed. You haven’t been this close to him in months, and here he is just sitting you right in his lap like it’s nothing.

You’re going to get whiplash if he continues this.

“I did you a disservice.” He starts, tilting his head back to stare up at you. “That time I made you use sedation for your heat. I was too afraid of hurting you to see what it really meant, to understand the risks and what it would be like for you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You say quietly, trying not to jump as his hands come to settle on your thighs.

“I do.” He says, his eyes soft as he stares up at you. “I wasn’t man enough to face down my fears. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Simon-”

“Don’t.” He says quietly. “Don’t talk me out of this.”

You shake your head. “You don’t-”

“I want to.”

His words have your protests dying in your throat. You stare at him wide-eyed. This feels like it’s coming out of left field. Things have shifted since his ascension into pack alpha, including the distance that had wedged between the two of you. Though he’s still been spending the least amount of time with you, you can’t deny he doesn’t feel quite so distant anymore. It’s comforting, just knowing there is an alpha there that would catch you if you fell.

Still, to go to this extent, to move this fast feels uncharacteristic for him.

“Simon,” You say softly as his hands trail up your thighs, reaching for your own hands.

“I should have done more, I should have been more for you.” He continues, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “You were right. I should have stepped up as soon as John said he was leaving.” He lifts your hands until they’re resting on either side of his neck. “I want to do this for you.”

You swallow thickly as you stare down at him, your fingers trembling where they rest against his mask. It feels strange being this close to him after so long. He’s being so...vulnerable suddenly and it’s making your head spin.

“Take it off.” He says.

“What?” You blink at him in surprise. You didn’t expect this at all.

“The mask. Take it off.”

“You...you’re sure?” You ask.

“Do it.” He says firmly.

Your fingers are still trembling as they curl around the bottom of the fabric. You can hardly believe this is happening, this is real. You’re really going to see his face. You had resigned yourself to only ever seeing him in his mask for the rest of your life, that he’d never willingly become that vulnerable with you. Yet here he is, coming into your space and opening himself up to this vulnerability.

Slowly you tug the fabric upward, revealing his scruffy chin. It’s the most you’ve ever seen of him when he tugs his mask up to eat. You continue pushing the fabric upward over his lips, your thumb tracing the scar there for a moment as you try and gain the courage to continue. It’s really happening. You’re about to see his face for the first time.

You push the mask up over his nose, thumbs gliding over his cheeks as you continue, pushing it up higher and higher. You take a deep breath in before tugging it upwards, pulling it completely off. He blinks up at you, leaning his head back against the headboard. You stare down at him in shock and awe, taking in his full face for the first time.

“You’re so...British looking.”

It’s the only thing you can think of to say. His face falls slightly, his brows pinching.

“Not-not in a bad way, it’s just...I’d know you were British if I saw you walking down the street.”

You wince at your own awkwardness. You’re not making it any better.

“You’re a handsome British man.” You say, cupping his cheeks.

He stares at you blankly for a moment and you worry you’ve fucked this up before his lips twist up in a smile, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Very much so.” You say quietly, cupping his cheeks.

You want to kiss him. You want to lean down and press your lips against his. You’re not sure where the desire has come from, when this sudden shift and change happened, but you can’t deny the desire you feel towards him. Maybe it’s your looming heat, maybe it’s because he’s the only alpha around, maybe it’s because he’s finally stepped up into what you knew he could be for you, what he could do for you.

He doesn’t stop you as you start to lean down, giving into the impulsive need. You wait for him to push you away, wait for him to change his mind and walk out the door, but he doesn’t. His arms tighten around your back, pulling you flush against his body as your lips touch his in a gentle, hesitant kiss.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as you kiss him, his hand flattening against your back. Shivers run down your spine, a quiet whine leaving your lips. His hand slides up your back, sinking into your hair to stop you from pulling away.

“Missed this.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Why did you wait so long?” You say quietly, kissing him again.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you again.” He says, pulling away. “I did it enough times before.” He stares up at you like you hung the moon and the stars. “I wasn’t fair to you.”

“You seriously don’t have to apologize.” You say, putting a finger on his lips. “I know you were being Mr. Emotionally Constipated So I Have To Make Myself Suffer For No Reason. It works for you, though.” You shrug. “Pairs with the Mr. Dark and Mysterious well.” You smile down at him. “Who knew Mr. Dark and Mysterious would also turn out to be Mr. Very British. Should have known with all the tea talk.”

He tightens his grip around you before suddenly pushing himself up. He flips you over onto your back, his hand squeezing your side, making you giggle. You trust him not to hurt you, his movements done in jesting not anger.

“You little shit.” He chuckles, resting on his elbows above you.

You smile up at him, pulling him down for another kiss. “I missed this.”

“So did I.” He says before kissing you deeply.

The kiss has electricity shooting down to your toes. Your whole body feels alive as your lips move against his, your arms wrapping around his neck. One hand slides into his hair, the short soft strands slipping through your fingers. You rake your nails across his scalp, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He pushes his body down against yours, squishing you into the mattress but you don’t care. He’s so big and warm it makes you feel safe and secure and for the first time since John left, your omega has settled contently.

You pull away begrudgingly after a few moments, staring up at him. You still can’t believe you’re seeing all of him, that he’s honored you with this chance to see his face fully.

“You really mean it?” You breathe, the hand in his hair sliding to cup his cheek.

“Of course.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“We should go let them know so they can stop stressing.” You breathe.

“Good idea.” He kisses you one more time before he pulls away, letting you get up off the bed.

You grab his mask, handing it to him. “Here.”

He stares down at it for a long moment before pocketing it. “I don’t need it.”

You stare at him in surprise. “What?”

“I’ve been hiding long enough.” He says. “There’s no reason to now.”

You give him an incredulous look. “What happened to you?”

He shrugs. “Had an epiphany I guess.”

“One hell of an epiphany.” You say as he opens the door.

“It might be our only option.” Dr. Keller says as you step out of the door. “It’s going to be a rough heat though.”

“I’ll do it.” Simon says, standing next to you.

The three of them look up, Johnny doing a double take. Dr. Keller’s face slowly morphs into a smile as she stares at Simon. She’s seeing his face for the first time as well. It speaks volumes to his sudden new-found trust that he’s letting her see him as well. Or, maybe he’s solidifying her place among the allies of your pack. He knows how much she means to you, how much she means to the others.

It almost makes you want to cry.

The room is silent as Johnny and Kyle stare at Simon in shock. You stand next to him, a small smile on your face. Things are finally turning around, things are finally starting to shift and heal within your pack, even with John out of the picture for now. He’s going to be surprised when he comes back.

Simon shifts on his feet next to you, his hand squeezing yours gently. It grounds you, keeps you steady as he speaks the next words, the words you never thought you’d hear from him. They’re sincere, not born out of necessity or need. He really does mean them.

“I’ll help her through her heat.”

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[lunchtimebedamned1997]

I finished it >:3

(Speedpaint and lineart under the cut :D)

Okay, so... I kind of love them as a throuple haha I just feel like that perfect balance of personalities and temperaments are there that just tick all my boxes haha I like the idea of most of the ships I've seen for this show tbh, but this little idea stood out enough for me to wanna draw it >:3

This was so much fucking fun.

Honestly, I kind of can't decide if I like the full-flats or just the lineart better on this one. Maybe someday I'll render the colored version to have the same soft quality as the lineart - but also maybe not XD

If you guys know me at all, I don't usually do full lineart for my pieces, but this one just came out so... yummy I love the texture and the line weight/quality I got in this one sm! Yeah, just a really fun little project overall :D

MINOR FLASH WARNING!

I forgot to hit record at the very beginning, sorry about that, but you barely missed anything which is good! XD

Also getting sleepy half-out-of-frame Pomni to not look 13 was a fucking STRUGGLE my girl is so tiny and round lmao

Anyways, watching TADC for the first time this week was super fun, and I did a lot of traditional sketches of the characters (mainly Jax lmao) so I might share those at some point, who knows. I love getting into a new animated show, I feel like it always pushes my art so much and helps me to expand my shape language, etc. especially translating from 3D to 2D.

Honestly I think having to translate it down into 2D really helped me retain more of my own style rather than getting stuck in the show's animation style (which happens a lot with Hazbin/Helluva - which I'm fine with, but when I do want to branch out with those particular characters I do find it harder)

I'm super excited for more episodes to come out!

[taeaura]

{Thomas} Hewitt Family Dynamic/Psychology Analysis

TW: Canon-related dynamics/activities, Incest, Rape/SA, Pedophilia, Abuse {Mental, Psychical, Emotional}, Discussions of mental health, extreme language, Usage of R!slur, War, Hoyt {Biggest warning of them all}

Yapping session again, I apologize {Wrote this whilst listening to Preacher's Daughter, GOATED ALBUM} Poorly edited, a bit more coherent than the last post 🩷

The family dynamic seems to be very..unconventional yet unsurprising. It’s a family of traumatized, traumatizing, enablers who’re struggling to survive both in spirit and in actuality. This post was intended to focus mainly on Thomas but I dove deep into Hoyt and the other family members as well because I feel they have such a big impact on Tommy:(

___

Thomas is obviously a very closed-off and introverted individual. His childhood was full of ridicule, cruelty, and abuse. His main father figure was and still is Hoyt - Charlie, but his biggest influence is his Momma, Luda Mae. I’ve seen multiple people paint Luda as a saint when in all actuality, she’s not. Although she may not be as malicious, she’s an enabler with intense family pride and protectiveness. Her automatic dislike of Erin is proof of this. She assumes Erin {and her friends, brother, boyfriend} are judgemental and arrogant ‘city-slickers’ who’re out to get Thomas. In all actuality, Erin never comments on Thomas’ looks besides her small conversation with Henrietta: “I couldn’t, I couldn’t look at him.” Even in this segment, she never says anything bad about Thomas except warning Henrietta and the Tea Lady {we’ll just call her ‘Kathy’ based on her actor} of his arrival. During this segment, we learn additional information about how the family views Thomas, as well as his general behavior. Dialogue from family members include:

“He knows better than to be messing around here…Poor Sweet boy--He’s no harm; Always keeps to himself.” - Henrietta, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003--1:02

“I know your kind--Nothing but cruelty and ridicule for my boy, all the time he was growing up. Does anybody care about me and my boy?” - Luda Mae, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003--1:06

“He ain’t retarded; He’s misunderstood.” - Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--16:30

“You don’t like playing with me anymore because I’m a pussy, that’s what you said. Well, my nephew Tommy ain’t no pussy; Maybe you’d like to play with him for a little while.” - Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--51:35

“You beautiful bastard, you!” {Honestly this entire scene could be used here} - Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie, Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:01:21 - 1:02:40

“Thomas, quit playing with your fucking dolls and get up here!..Hmm, I like your new face.” - Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:06:15 - 1:06:35

“There you go, nice work, Tommy.” - Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:09:55

“There’s a time when every boy becomes a man.” Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning 2006--1:17:53

As you can see, most of the praise Thomas gets is from Hoyt. Honestly, reviewing Hoyt’s character on his own, this may seem surprising, but diving past face-value, this isn’t surprising at all. Hoyt is a sadistic, impulsive, traumatized veteran who very clearly values his family. I think both Thomas and Hoyt have the same thought{s}: “Family is all I’ve known, family is all I have consistently. Therefore, I need to protect it.” This is very apparent in Hoyt’s speech in The Beginning 2006: “Us... we're staying right here. The ashes of six generations of Hewitts have been tilled into the soil of this farm. We will never abandon the place of our birth. We're on our own now, people. And alone... we will rise above it all.” Both Hoyt and Thomas value family so much, and this is apparent in their immediate protection of them; As well as how violent they get once the family's safety is in jeopardy. The family also heavily depends on both of them, Thomas more than Hoyt. Luda Mae immediately calling out for Hoyt once Eric throws a brick through their window {48:25}, relying on Thomas to chase down Chrissie, ordering Thomas to ‘wrap things up’ after Monty’s amputation, Thomas being the main source of income prior to the meat plant shutting down, Hoyt Charlie being the one to protect Thomas from the original Sheriff Hoyt, the deleted scene where Charlie protects Thomas from malicious classmates, Thomas protecting Hoyt by killing the biker {1:01 - 1:03}. 

I’d also like to add; As someone with multiple military family members, the military changes you. War changes you. Considering Charlie is a POW, his trauma has to be so deep. {I’d like to make this clear: !!I’M NOT DEFENDING NOR SYMPATHISING WITH HOYT!!} His lust for violence, domination, control, and protection is most likely a combination of his personality, growing up dirt poor, his relationship with Luda Mae + other family members {which I’ll talk about below}, the war, and their current situation. He definitely gets defensive of his country, the military in general, the South, and his family. I.E: “Ain’t nothing I hate worse than a draft-dodging hippie protester.” - The Beginning 2006--40:30. He most likely has the same views on “City-slickers” as Luda Mae, just more extreme. In fact, I think it’s safe to assume the entire family has that view, maybe even Thomas. {Though his would be more protection-based as opposed to politically divided.} *cough-cough, Hoyt*

Going back to Thomas’ “father figures”, Monty and Hoyt were the only men in the house for Thomas to look up to. Hoyt was gone when Thomas was around 13, meaning during his very “experimental” years, he only had Monty to look up to. Both Monty and Hoyt are sexual deviants with no shame at all; Monty very openly gropes Erin in the 2003 remake whilst calling her a “Good girl.” {I almost turned off the movie, I kid you not} Whilst Hoyt very openly gropes Bailey multiple times, and even toys with Erin. It’s also heavily implied he raped Bailey {poor girl, this entire movie was so poor to her and Chrissie.} And whilst Luda Mae does get Hoyt to calm down with Erin, she still actively enables this behavior and completely ignores it. Now, I don’t think Thomas would replicate this {fingers crossed}; I’m sure Thomas has ‘urges’ but he has so much to do, such little extra energy, and a shit ton of {religious} trauma which would most likely coerce him away from sexual activity. He also very obviously wants praise. The more Hoyt praises and encourages Thomas, the more sadistic he gets. And yes, Thomas is sadistic. Sure he’s trying to survive, protect, and feed his family, but he also actively tortures his victims. I.E; skinning Eric’s arms, bathing Andy’s amputation in salt, ect. And I don’t wanna blame this on his ‘mental deterioration’, because that’s not it in my opinion. Thomas has crossed the threshold of  “I’m doing this to protect my family / because I’m forced to.’ No, he’s violent and angry. He’s so done with everything. He needs an outlet to take his anger from him, and the victims are practically begging him with how infuriating they can be. Also, wearing Kemper’s mask to catch Erin??? Jesus Christ, Thomas, that’s traumatizing. And he knows he’ll get away with it. The law enforcement is gone, Hoyt has done worse, Momma doesn’t seem to speak on it, why not continue? And I’m sure he feels powerful when he finally gets the chance to bite back. This is exactly the kind of manipulation Hoyt did to get Thomas fully on board with this killing-spree shit; “It’s one of those assholes who used to fuck with you in the schoolyard, Tommy!” - The Beginning 2006--1:01:40. This brings me to my next point - 

The family is immensely good at manipulation. Kinda by default, too. I know Southern hospitality can be viewed as passive aggressive and unnecessary depending on where you’re from, especially if you’re from up North; And I can’t disagree in some instances. Luda Mae is the MOST likely to use her ‘Southern hospitality’ as means of manipulation. Her little coo to Bailey about “We got to get you cleaned up, you don’t want to look dirty for company, do you?” at around 42:30 {Which by the way, was Marrietta Marich’s [Luda Mae’s actress] idea apparently.} It was not only a way to distract Bailey from the torture below them, but to indoctrinate herself into believing everything was fine. This was their life, and Charlie Hoyt knows what’s best, doesn’t he? I’m sure this was really difficult for her; Truly seeing who her son was and how the war affected him so deeply. Her seeming so closed off to Bailey and Chrissie at the community center was a result of the intense lifestyle change. Hoyt is EXTREMELY manipulative as well. I mean, he was a POW, you need a lot of skills in pattern recognition and psychology to survive such things. The way he speaks to everyone; Beginning slightly rational and neutral, only to quickly be angered and intimidated by his lack of power in the situation. This is especially prominent when he speaks to Morgan, Erin, and Pepper; But mostly Morgan. In the first movie, when the car breaks down and he tries to “calm Erin down” only to scold all of them for possession of drugs and such; Trying to convince Erin that Kemper killed the hitchhiker when he knew what really happened; Making Morgan reenact the scene whilst threatening him with an unloaded gun, pressuring him into “shooting” whilst taunting about how they’ll be “accomplices to murder.” Smashing the bottle in Morgan’s face when he says Hoyt can have the Skynyrd tickets. The way he kisses and rubs on Bailey during the dinner scene in The Beginning?? How he coos and taunts Erin once she wakes up from the poison?? He’s a master in manipulation and puts on a damn good show at that. Henrietta and the Tea Lady / Kathy are also extremely manipulative. When they force Erin to drink the tea, blame her for the baby crying, saying that she “looks tense” and “needs to relax”?? Yeah, this family is full of manipulative and emotionally abusive cycles. Anyway, back to how this affects Thomas.

Thomas was most definitely manipulated in multiple ways. I’m sure Luda Mae has manipulated him into ‘doing what's best for the family’ and all that bullshit. He definitely has some religious trauma and sure as hell has endured abuse of many kinds.

To tie this all together, I present to you: The Family Dynamic. 

I saw a post by I believe Scrapnick?{Their art is so so appealing} Anyway, someone had asked why Thomas and Hoyt are both “brothers and uncle/nephew.” They responded with something like: “Luda Mae most likely got assaulted by her father as a child.” Their post was more detailed than that but that was the main point. And honestly, I agree. At first I thought Hoyt was Luda Mae’s husband, and then I heard him refer to Thomas as his “nephew”, and then I heard him call Luda Mae “mama.” I went researching on wikis and such only to find results such as “he doesn’t view Thomas as a real brother, therefore he uses uncle/nephew.” Whilst this may be true, Hoyt and Luda Mae only have at MAX a 15 year difference. The actors {Marrietta Marich, R. Lee Ermey} only had a 14 year difference. Considering he also calls Monty his uncle, I think it's safe to assume Luda experienced assault from her father during her teens, resulting in pregnancy. Tying this back to religious trauma, I think this fact really upsets Hoyt. He loves his family, obviously, but I think the idea of him being ‘born of sin,’ I.E: Out of wedlock, incest, pedophilia; most likely affects him. I wonder if he ever thought “Well, I’m going to hell anyway, might as well sin.” I’m rambling right now, I apologize; Welcome to my blog {Yappville.}

Now, this dynamic obviously affected his relationship with Luda Mae. I doubt she loves him any less, but I think it was definitely difficult considering A.) Growing up religious; B.) Being such a young mother; And C.) Growing up and continuing to be excruciatingly poor. I think Hoyt gets a bit jealous of Thomas, surprisingly. He’s jealous of how much Luda Mae adores him; How he really gets to have a mother instead of a struggling sister/mother who was trying so hard to get by. Hoyt seems to have a closer {yet still distant} relationship to Monty than Thomas does. I think Monty is just a distant, miserable old man whose patience is low and tiredness is high. He’s worn out, especially after the amputation. The entire family is worn out; Slowly losing their grip on humanity with each passing day. The only consistent thing they have is each other, and yet still their relationships escape them. I think everyone, but especially Thomas {and Jedidiah, poor baby} just want a home to feel safe in. Really, just a stable income, stable food supply, and the ability to rest both physically and mentally. He wants to be able to have a purpose; To work again without needing to worry if his family will be okay. Being able to walk around the house without having to shut himself in the basement to avoid scoldings, demands, or endless calls. This entire family is really fucked up and in need of some rest, family therapy, maybe some physical therapy, and some damn prozac. 

Okay, yay!! You made it to the end; I apologize for the long post again, I get so into analyzing things and I couldn’t resist looking into the Hewitts. Tommy needs some prozac and some Southern cooking {He’s just like me fr}

Love you all, thank you so much for the support on the previous post 🫀

[tshxkitty]

jimmy x fem!reader

1,3k words

tw: small mentions of abuse and sex, death and suicide at the end!!

this is just something small that i was thinking about for sometime, idk i love jimmy.

lowercase intended, it’s just the way i like to write

english is not my first language!! anyway, enjoy!!

he knew well enough that he was insufferable. he knew that he was a total dick and pain in the ass for almost everyone. he was mean, really fucking mean sometimes. he always wanted everything to go just the way he wanted. he was a narcissist, god, he knew about that well enough - sometimes it even bothered him, but it’s not like he would talk with anyone about that. he knew that he needed therapy, but he would never go, “not my style” he would always say while talking with Curly.

he never was a relationship type of guy. he preferred some quick flings, not giving a fuck about any consequences or anything. and then he met you, and suddenly everything seemed to be less insufferable. you met on tinder. he wasn’t really proud of this, but who the fuck cares? he didn’t expect to have so much fun while just simply walking around the pier. he hated beaches and everything like that. but with you it was a bit more enjoyable that he could ever admit. honestly, he was sure that you were bored by him, so he was quite surprised when you placed a small kiss on his lips when he walked you back to your apartment. he never asked you to be his girlfriend or anything like that, it would be stupid, you both were too old for that, it’s not high school. he just called you his girlfriend when you met Curly for the first time. and that was it, simple, but effective.

he didn’t fully understand why you liked to hang out in his apartment. god, he hated this place. but he stayed there, it was quite cheap. that old couch made him shiver when he walked into that apartment for the first time. not even mentioning the bathroom. the thing was - jimmy was actually a clean freak. when he first time stepped into the apartment, he cleaned literally everything - even though the landlord assured him that everything was cleaned after the last locator. he always preferred to spend time at your place.

the way you said that it doesn’t really matter to you that he was homeless for sometime, you were just glad that he was better now. he remembered how actually scared he was to tell you that, after all it wasn’t something he was proud of. still, it wasn’t his fault that his parents kicked him out when he just turned 18. fuck, he hated his parents. his father, for being the worst person he ever knew, beating up his mother and him all the time. it was his worst fear to become just like him one day (spoiler: he did). so when jim was strong enough to fight back, his father just kicked him out. his mother wasn’t the best mom in the world, obviously. why didn’t she even protest against his father when he was kicking him out? yeah, he would probably beat her up again, but nothing new, right? she didn’t gave a fuck about jimmy, that’s for sure. what an awful mother.

why were you even in relationship with him? he asked himself that question millions of times. you were so perfect, so sweet and so innocent. he saw the way you and Curly looked together while sitting on his couch with beer in your hand - so put together, so normal. but you chose him, and he was sure that you two looked stupid together. he wanted to punch Curly in the guts for smiling at you all the time. well, you told him every time that you two suit each other perfectly, but his disgusting jealousy was always stronger than that. but he still loved to hear you say that.

you were so perfect in his eyes. the way your hair shined in the morning sun through the blinds. the way you danced around when you played him your stupid music that he always said that he hated. the perfect color of your eyes - he never really paid attention to shit like that, but your eyes? god, he loved the way you looked at him. the way you smelled, vanilla and flowers or whatever - he just really liked it, and couldn’t stop to sniff your hair ever time he hugged you. sex with you was something else. he never really cared about his partners, only his pleasure was important to him, but with you? oh, god, sometimes he didn’t even care about how he felt - he just wanted, no needed to make you feel good. he always hated when a woman was on top, he should be the one to dominate all the time, but with you? he couldn’t care less. still, he preferred to be on top, but how could he say no to you when your tits bounced right in front of his face? that was one of his favorite sights in the world. jimmy also wasn’t a fan of gifts, he always felt like that was unnecessary. but your small gifts? jesus, he loved everything you gave him. that small polypody or that warm blanket with small stars all over it? he loved everything. even when you just bought him his favorite snacks, those little pretzels that you always choose for a movie night. he never really cared about perfume, and always used the same one he got from Curly when they were fourteen, and he always just repurchased it. so, when you bought him something that you thought was fitting for him, he quickly stopped using the old one. your choice was different, you called it “woody and citrusy” so he just went with it. and god he loved that. he also loved the way you always sat down with him on the balcony when he smoked. the way you held your cup of coffee in your hands or when you just asked him to give you just one puff. or the way you always said “this year for my birthday i would like some peace” every time he asked what you wanted for your birthday. something in that answer always made him feel calm. he always bought you something special, though. not pricey, he didn’t have much money, but always made sure it would be something you liked. he always made mental notes of everything you said you liked, so he always knew what to give you.

the thing was, he loved you. love you so much that he couldn’t even admit that. you were his everything, you made his life so much better, you made him so much better.

and then you were killed. you were getting back from your night shift and some dude jumped you over, stole your wallet and killed you. when he found out he didn’t left his apartment for few weeks. he was so fucking depressed. talking with your parents was so dreadful. he liked them, he really did, but he just couldn’t handle looking at them. in someway he felt like it was his fault for not picking you up from your job. it was probably the first and the last moment in his life when he felt guilty. he struggled so much when you left. he felt like shit. his life changed so drastically, he stopped caring about almost everything. he lost his job, started doing drugs again. he was so fucking lost.

then Curly offered him a job at Pony Express, quick and simple money, he said. it helped him a bit, just for a moment. but then something just snapped in him, every bad feeling that he ever felt was just out like that. he didn’t even knew how to control himself anymore. it didn’t even feel like him anymore.

and here he was standing in front of Curly in cryptopod with a gun under his chin. he knew that he fucked up so much in his life. but that was it, over, simple like that. he didn’t believe in heaven or any shit like that, but if there was anything like afterlife, he knew that you would probably kick his ass if you met again. and gladly, he would let you.

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part Two: Three Weeks (Read Part One here)

Gally x Fem!Reader

3 weeks have passed since the incident that took your feud with Gally to fiery new heights. Apologies have been exchanged, wounds are healing, and you’re trying your very best to move on despite Gally’s recent bout of strange behavior. In the midst of his mounting distraction and your continued efforts to return to business-as-usual, you receive an order from Alby that has you questioning your enemy’s motives like never before.

Genre: enemies to lovers, spice (very briefly it’s mostly plot)

Word Count: 3K  Read Time: 12 Minutes

Warnings & Info: very light very brief sexual content, language, had to change the POV for this one it’s omniscient, movie!Gally, only Glader slang is shank, not the only girl in The Glade, nonessential OC’s added

Author’s Note: At first I thought this fic was gonna be a oneshot, then two parts, and now it’s honestly looking more like four. Hope y’all enjoy reading this one as much as I’m enjoying writing it; it really heats up in the next part (there’s smut lol);)

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It’s been 3 weeks since the bonfire incident and every one of the days within them has been grueling for you. 3 weeks of apologies; to Alby, Newt, Elsie, Thomas, Ben, Lierale, Chuck and anyone else that had the misfortune of being near the bonfire that night. 3 weeks of waking up stiff from a night of sleeping in The Pit (Alby’s punishment). 3 weeks of evacuating the med-hut everytime Gally needed a check-up. 3 weeks of busy work and late shifts, trying to silently repay Clint and Jeff for their services that night by doing all the jobs they hate doing. 3 weeks of doing your own wound care. 3 weeks of staying out of everyone’s way and trying but failing to avoid the stares. And hardest of all, 3 weeks of having to come to terms with the fact that you’d finally gone too far. 

You had always prided yourself on only fighting Gally back in a defensive manner; only pushing back as much as he pulled you. But this stunt had thrown that streak out the window. Though it didn’t change the way you felt about him, you had to admit that scarring him permanently with an alcohol-fueled bonfire was hardly an appropriate punishment for slut-shaming and verbal harassment. 

For the first 3 days after the incident you were only let out of The Pit to go to the bathroom and shower. Alby had agreed to let you return to normal duties, if you continued to sleep in The Pit every night and didn’t socialize outside of work. But the main condition of your parole, (and the hardest one to fulfill), was an apology to Gally. It had taken place behind the Map Room, (a neutral location), and Alby had invited himself, Minho and Ben to keep the peace. Despite the countless apologies that had flowed from your lips like a never-ending tap, this one seemed to all but dry you up.

You had found it hard to meet Gally’s eyes at first, choosing to scan the bandages wrapped tightly around his strong arms, which were crossed in front of his chest. Your eyes finally settled on the prominent veins on the top of his left hand as you struggled to choke out the words.

“I’m sorry Gally,” you’d started, devoid of emotion. You lifted your head to meet his eyes. 

“You’re a dumb asshole…” Alby, Minho, and Ben moved in closer. “...but you didn’t deserve that,” you finished earnestly. 

“I am sorry that I hurt you. I hope it makes you feel better that I am also very hurt,” you continued with a dryer tone, motioning to the bandages wrapped around your chest and hands, a small smile tugging at your lips. Gally had returned it, against his better judgement. He looked to Alby, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“I’m sorry too, Y/N,” he said with a blank expression on his face.

“You’re the worst shank I’ve ever met…” Minho rolled his eyes. “...but I shouldn't have called you a slut. It’s not your fault all the guys around here only think with their dick,” he finished, using a softer tone that didn’t suit his defensive stance.

“And it does make me feel better, by the way,” he shrugged, nodding his head at the bandages poking out of your shirt.

“How about you shake on it?” Alby suggested cooly.

“No way,” you stated bluntly, your eyes narrowing as they never left Gally’s.

“Fuck no,” Gally scoffed, still staring at you. “The apology was painful enough,”

“Alright fine,” Alby conceded. “Get back to work. And if either of you come anywhere near each other, you’ll be living in The Pit until the next greenie comes up, am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Gally replied, finally turning his eyes to Alby’s face. You nodded slowly. Alby looked suspicious, but he waved his hand to dismiss you both. You both turned abruptly and took off walking in opposite directions, you towards the Med-hut and Gally towards his construction site. The three makeshift peacekeepers turned the corner to enter the Map Room.

“That was an apology?” Ben asked, scanning Minho’s expression for a hint of the same shock he was experiencing. 

“If I had nearly blown up The Glade, seriously burned someone and then tried to apologize to them like that, I think Alby would throw me to The Maze and lock the doors,” Minho just shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s the best we’re gonna get from those two. I’m just glad they didn’t try to kill each other on sight,” he countered, relieved it was over. After this apology, you and Gally had resumed your persistent yet unspoken agreement to never find yourselves near each other and any vague plots of revenge had died quickly, much to everybody’s relief. But it wasn’t exactly business as usual for Gally.

His 3 weeks have gone by a little differently than yours. 3 weeks of changing drainage-soaked bandages. 3 weeks of constant jokes about your outburst from his crew. 3 weeks of being watched like a hawk for any lingering retaliation plots. 3 weeks of being interrogated by his friends about his feelings on the matter. 3 weeks of daily check-ups in the med-hut by Clint & Jeff. 3 weeks of an extremely early curfew & a laundry list of extra chores set in place by Alby, who assured him that his role in the incident would not go unpunished. But he can deal with all of that.

The thing he’s having a harder time dealing with is how distracted he’s been. It’s so obvious that something’s bothering him that his crew has taken notice, his friends are concerned and even you can tell something’s not quite right. And that’s the thing that’s really been bothering him these last three weeks. The racing thoughts that are so out of character, Gally would rather fight a Griever barehanded than tell anyone about them.

The thoughts crept in slowly, like the beginning of a fever. He knew what he saw in the Med-hut that night and he knew his reaction. Arousal, obviously. He didn’t try to deny it to himself; that would have been pointless. But he did come up with a million justifications for it, each one weaker than the last.

I was drunk. 

He’d repeat to himself like a mantra. 

I was drunk and in pain and not in my right mind. 

He’d repeat with less confidence.  

I’m a repressed teenage boy who’s spent 3 years in a prison, most of that time with only other teenage boys. 

He’d continue, committing this list of contingencies to memory. 

That’s just a normal reaction for a boy to have when seeing a girl shirtless. It’s got nothing to do with feelings; it’s just human nature.

He’d think, coming up with some bullshit biological, animalistic, purely knee-jerk reason for the way his cheeks flushed while looking at you. The way he suddenly felt dizzy and not from the pain. The way his eyes widened and his thoughts immediately derailed into an X-rated movie.

I can’t fucking stand her. 

He’d always save this justification for last as it seemed to bring a finality to the matter. That just because he’s a warm-blooded male with the same instincts and needs as the rest of his species, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the worst shank he’s ever met. So that was that. His mind had found an uneasy peace with it. Until the dreams started. 

They would come in flashes, just sensual tableaus that came right out of every abstract fantasy he’d ever come up with in the shower or late at night in his bed. Your lips on his neck, your hands gripping the coarse sheets of his bed, the feeling of plush skin beneath his hands, soft moans filling the warm air around him. He’d wake up breathless, all the warmth from his face draining to his boxers.

The fever was rising in pitch.

It was after these dreams that he’d thank the gods that his Keeper status got him a private hut so he could…take care of himself before heading off to work. But the thoughts would follow him throughout the day, spiking his body temperature each time they interrupted him.

“Watch it Gally!” a blonde-haired Builder hissed, ducking out of the way of the lumber he’d had slung over his shoulder that became a beheading hazard when he’d turned too fast. This was more than a week after the incident and Gally’s head had been preoccupied with the image of you on your knees, instead of his surroundings.

“Sorry sorry. My fault,” he’d mumbled back, trying to conceal the flush in his cheeks and cursing at himself under his breath.

“Gally the wall!” Newt had exclaimed five days later, pointing to the newly erected wooden structure that Gally had failed to notice while shoving his nose in the newest blueprints he’d drawn up. His head hit it with a hollow thump.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his papers and massaging his forehead with his palm. Newt dropped his gardening hoe and jogged over.

“You alright mate?” he inquired lightly, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. If the ever-unflappable Gally had gotten to the point of literally running into walls, then there was definitely cause for concern.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Gally grumbled, shaking his head and trying to come to his senses. Unfortunately this accident had taken place in the middle of the day in one of the most trafficked areas of the Glade. And so the whispering had started. The strange glances his way during meal times, the ever growing mountain of well-meaning questions from coworkers and friends alike. The sentiment that Gally was for some reason, losing his mind, had even floated all the way into the med-hut, where you overheard it from Clint and Jeff.

“Yeah I don’t know, it's just weird. The shank’s a drill sergeant and now all the sudden he’s letting everybody off work an hour early?” Clint stated incredulously, wiping down a table that had been used to stitch up a nasty cut on a Builder’s arm a few minutes ago. The boy had come in an hour before sunset and Jeff had marveled in awe that he’d managed to convince Gally that a cut was enough of a reason to leave work early. The boy had responded, wide-eyed and with a hushed voice, that Gally let everyone out of work early, not just him.

“Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s been stung and this is the first phase of The Changing.” Jeff countered with a grin, emptying an armful of bloodied gauze into the fire.

“I hope not. Gally would make one hell of a Crank,” Clint scoffed and Jeff chuckled in response. You stopped pretending to go over the injury logs for the week behind the half wall that was obstructing your view of your coworkers, who you were shamelessly eavesdropping on. You rounded the corner quickly, intent on butting in.

“Gally let everyone out of work early?!” you asked dumbfounded. Clint and Jeff jumped slightly at your question and scanned your face for any trace of an outburst forming.

“Uh, yeah. It’s weird huh?,” Clint answered uneasily, still unsure of your motives. You weren’t exactly sure of your own motives so you gave a subtle nod of approval at his rhetorical question.

Why the hell would Gally let everyone out of work early? You’d seen him around the Glade with a dazed look in his eyes and you’d heard from Newt that he ran into a wall last week, but you couldn’t fathom what would be making him so distracted. You weren’t given much time to mull over the possibilities, as Alby suddenly appeared in the open door of the Med-hut, rapping curtly on the wooden door.

“Y/N, do you have a minute?” your leader asked calmly.

“Of course,” you responded quickly, trying to keep the panic flooding through your body at bay.

“Walk with me,” he motioned with his arm. You crossed the hut and followed him out the door, running through the list of everything you’ve done in the last several weeks, trying to find the discretion you were sure Alby was about to scold you for.

The sun was setting on The Glade, and it cast a distinctly romantic feeling into the air. You admired the orange and pink hues reflected onto the green grass and drank in the warm air that was punctuated by the excited chattering of your fellow Gladers in the distance, who were setting up for tonight’s bonfire. Your chest tightened at the thought. You knew you’d be the talk of the night and that everyone with a thirst for chaos would be hoping for a round 2 of your pyrotechnic prowess.

“So it’s bonfire night,” Alby broke the silence with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah I know Alby. Don’t worry, I just need to clean up in the med-hut and I’ll be straight off to The Pit before it’s even dark,” You tried to get ahead of his warnings. But Alby was taken aback by this statement; he didn’t have any warnings to give. In fact quite the opposite.

“No Y/N, I want you to be there tonight,” You stopped dead in your tracks, your ears ringing slightly.

“What? Why?!” Alby tried not to be affected by your shock and continued with his well-rehearsed speech.

“I’ve spoken to Gally about this. If you two don’t go, the excitement about your incident from last month will only continue. It’s already all anyone will talk about. I know you’ve noticed that all eyes have been on you two,” he stated with a concerned look on his face that finally confirmed to you that he wasn’t joking.

“Of course I’ve noticed Alby, people call me “Firecracker” more often than my name. But if we go, it’ll be chaos,” you countered, your voice hissing slightly at the pronunciation of what was rapidly becoming your least favorite nickname. Honestly, you’d do anything to go back to your earliest days in The Glade, when a particularly cruel sect of boys started calling you “Suzy Swallows” after you’d eaten a banana at the breakfast table with a little too much gusto.

“If you both go and you both keep your temper in check,” Alby glared at you, “and you both stay sober,” he raised his voice slightly, punctuating the last word, “and everyone sees that nothing happens tonight then it will all blow over. If you don’t go, the gossip will only grow and we’ll just have to deal with it twofold next month. It’s better to rip the bandage off,” 

That last sentence was more to reassure himself than you. The Glade has to move on from this. It needs order to function and a female arsonist is the direct antithesis to that order. It’s bad enough he can’t seem to get a large sect of the boys to keep their hands off the very few girls; god forbid they all start thinking the best way to deal with that conflict is to set the place on fire.

“Is this an order, Alby?” You couldn’t think of any other protests at the moment. Alby did have a point; you and Gally not being there would almost certainly ensure that no one would be talking about anything else.

“Yes it is,” he retorted quickly. He quickly softened his tone. “Besides, you deserve a bit of a break, Y/N. You’ve been doing really good this past month. If everything goes well tonight, you can sleep in your own bed again and be free to do what you like after work,”

The sound of his praise elicited a sigh of relief that washed over your tense body like a wave of warm water. Alby knew you weren’t inherently stupid or destructive; just prone to bouts of occasional drunkenness and pigheadedness like the rest of the Gladers. He felt that your punishments had more than compensated for your crime and frankly he was starting to feel guilty every time he saw you timidly navigating your day to day activities with the demeanor of a kicked puppy.

“Ok. Let me finish up in the med-hut and get changed, and I’ll be there. Thank you, Alby,”

“You’re welcome,” he paused, a conflicted look on his face, as he pondered if he should mention one other detail of this arrangement. “You might want to thank Gally too. When I brought up this idea to him, he offered to stay in his hut and let you go tonight, but I refused. It seems despite your feud,” the corners of his mouth upturned in a slight smile, “he thinks you deserve a break, too,” Alby continued in the direction you’d both been walking in, still wondering if it had been wise to divulge that fact to you. He wasn’t sure if it would soften your anger towards Gally but he was confident it couldn’t make it any worse. You had remained frozen in place, bewilderment setting in rapidly.

What the fuck??

Gally had offered to do something…kind for you? He’d offered to sit out bonfire night, the one night a month in which he can let off steam by beating the shit out of greenies and getting his friends drunk, for you? You turned your head slightly, wondering if you were about to watch The Glade freeze over or The Maze come crumbling down, as the likelihood of those things happening seemed higher than the likelihood of what you’d just been told. You shook your head to clear the confusion and started half-running, half-walking to the Med-hut, finally letting the excitement of getting to do something fun for the first time in a month swell in your chest.

You never thought you would ever feel the sentiment that came to your mind next. It went against every instinct you had and all the history you’d established in your time in The Glade. But you couldn’t help it, the warm feeling of gratitude spread through your chest quickly and you found yourself muttering a very unusual string of words as you approached the Med-hut doors.

“Thank you Gally,”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @katie-tibo @my-little-universes @vaille123

[tea-cat-arts]

Now that Honkai part 1 is over, I really hope Mihoyo dubs it in more languages. I know that it’d be a lot of catch-up work, but it’s just a very text heavy game and it’s an absolute bitch to get through if you’re like me and have both adhd and eye tracking issues so I think it would make the game a lot more accessible

[royalarchivist]

Bad: I don’t think people understand the effect QSMP had on some of the streamers in terms of like… The real raw mental impact, so I’m gonna set the stage for you. [...] Imagine that you were given a friend to play Minecraft with — like your best friend — BUT if this person dies, if they die in the game, you never get to talk to them again. Can you imagine what that’s like?

Bad: If you did not live through the QSMP, if you did not live through that, it almost sounds like, crazy. But I don’t think people realize how much of a joyous experience the Eggs were. They were SO awesome! They were literally so awesome to just hang out with and spend time with.

Bad: I’m not saying I regret it. To this day, I loved the experience. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Even knowing how everything went, I would still do it all over again. [...] I would still do it all over again, because — even knowing like, all the trauma and suffering and stuff like that — because it was just… It was just that fun, it was just that fun.

Earlier today during his stream, Bad shared his experience and thoughts about the Eggs and the significant emotional (and traumatic) impact they had on him and his fellow QSMP members.

This clip a very edited-down version since his commentary was ~13 minutes long, so I highly recommend checking out Bad's VOD if you have the time. (Timestamp: 47:36 - 1:00:14)

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

———

Bad: To be fair Chat, I really think the QSMP... I don't think anyone really can relate to it, Chat. It's something that's so... I've told people this before, like– but it's hard to understand. Right? Like...

Where was I? Sorry Chat, I'm losing my train of thought. Look, let me explain Chat– here's the dealio, ok? Here's the dealio, and this is what I mean when I say like, it's important to keep this in mind, Chat. Ok? It's important to keep this in mind:

I don’t think people understand the effect that the QSMP had on like, some of the streamers, in terms of like… The real raw mental impact, so I’m gonna set the stage for you. This is the analogy I’ve given to every person who I’ve like, shared this with. Imagine you meet somebody– [He hears a strange noise] What the fudge was that? Did you hear that?

Anyway– Chip! The story I was just relaying to Chat, Chip, was this: I was sharing this story with them, I said–  I was giving them an analogy. 

Imagine Chat, for example, imagine that you were… playing Minecraft, with like– you were given a friend to play Minecraft with, Chat, like your best friend, and [unintelligible] were like, “Hey, you get to play Minecraft with this person, right? BUT if this person dies – they’re currently your best friend, Chip – but if they die in the game, you never get to talk to them again. Ever again.” Can you imagine what that’s like, Chip?

I don’t think a lot of people understand like, what that does, right? I’m not gonna say that like, it creates this situation, Chip, that like, messes with your head, but it– Chip – but it totally, totally does, Chip. It messes with your head! It literally puts you in a position where you’re second-guessing and thinking about everything, Chip! You’re thinking about EVERYTHING Chip! Ok? And that’s the problem, Chip– is you turn into a paranoid monster because of it, Chip! Like, you don’t understand Chip– I was- I was so afraid of every dirt block, I used to carry a shovel with me Chip, and I would specifically right-click dirt blocks that looked suspicious because mines, Chip– mines could not be shoveled! Like, I was crazy, Chip! But here’s the problem, Chip: that craziness is still there. I’m genuinely like–

I remember thinking Chip, that I would one day– I was like, “I’m going to move past–” here, let’s go up here, Chip. I remember thinking one day Chip, I was like, “I’m gonna move past the underground base, one of these days. You know, one of these days, I feel like I’ll be able to grow and achieve the desire to build a base that doesn’t have to be underground.” But I don’t think it’s possible now Chip, because I think… I just don’t know. I feel like the paranoia– there’s still like, residual leftover trauma from that situation, Chip.

But here’s the problem Chip: I don’t think I don’t think– I don’t think people understand it. Like, I just really don’t. But I also don’t blame them Chip, ‘cuz I don’t think it’s possible to fully understand it if you haven’t lived through it. Like, if you did not live through the QSMP… I’m talking about the QSMP, I don’t- I don’t know if that was obvious– if you did not live through that, it almost sounds like, crazy. But I don’t think people realize how much of a joyous experience like, the Eggs were. Right? I don’t think people realize it. Like, they were SO awesome! They were literally so awesome to just hang out with and spend time with, Chip. So, it’s just one of those things that–

[He’s interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder above them]

Did lightning just strike here? Is it thunderstorming out…? But anyway, Chip. That’s the food for thought.

But that’s the problem– Like, every time it rains in Minecraft, I have to like, look at the sky, and I get this weird, like, second--hand vibe because of the trauma. The trauma, Chip! The trauma is real! But that’s the point– I’m not saying I regret it. I, to this day Chip, I loved the experience. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Even knowing how everything went, I would still do it all over again. 

[He falls down] Dangit, don’t come over here Chip, ‘cuz I’m coming back up! Ok.

I would still do it all over again, because — even knowing like, all the trauma and suffering  and stuff like that — because it was just… It was just that fun, Chip, it was just that fun. I really wi– I don’t think it’s ever gonna be possible, Chip, to give people that same energy, like that same experience. You know what I mean, Chip? I don’t think it’s ever gonna be possible again. Like, EVER.

Because… because like, one: I will say on one level Chip, I will say on one level, like– it’s sort of emotionally like… It’s emotionally devastating, and I think to actually go through that– and this is where like, if I ever do end up going to a– see a therapist, if I ever do end up going to see a therapist at any point, I’ll talk it over with them and be like, “Hey, what do you think about this?” Because I genuinely think on one level, like– it’s created this fear of forming attachments because of like, how things can go. You know what I mean? Like, the fear of getting attached to something and then potentially losing it. Like, it’s- it’s a genuine thing. I think people forget about that.

Like, at the end of the day, everything was RP, right? On the server. You know what I mean? Like, everything was RP, Chip. BUT at the same point, even though it was RP Chip, it was still like– there the reality of you were still playing like, with another person, and you were still getting that experience, and it felt like you were genuinely attached to someone and you didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. It was GENUINELY stressful, Chip.

But at the same point, I don’t regret it, and I don’t think it was a bad experience. I’m– 

Sometimes in life Chip, you go through stuff, and maybe you have a certain amount of like, things that like, can happen, that you’re like, “You know what, maybe this wasn’t a good thing that this happened,” but at the same point, you still aren’t necessarily upset about it, because… it’s like growing as a person, right? Here’s the thing Chip; even bad situations, Chip, can lead to an overall good outcome. Like–

Even if you’re going through something bad Chip, just because a bad thing happens doesn’t mean that only bad things have to come from that. That’s one of the things I tell people all the time, Chip, is that if you go through a bad situation, you can learn from it, and you can use your experience to help others. And you can be that– you can be, at the worst-case scenario, you can be someone for other people who are going through that same experience to lean on when they go through that.I think there’s a certain amount of comfort that comes from that; from knowing no matter how bad your situation is, you’re not the only person who’s experienced it. You know what I mean?

[talaofthevalley]

I have no clue why they didn't make Amity more akin to a rival character instead of a bully. Because it would have solved A Lot of problems in regards to Amity and Willow, and Lumity becoming a thing.

The thing is that Lumity feels Super Weird at the start when Luz is trying to befriend Amity long before the girl shows any remorse for bullying Willow and making up for it. And it's not something easily brushed off when Amity is introduced being condescending and a dick to Willow. The bullying isn't something of the past, it's still going on.

Willow comes off as an afterthought in this dynamic, when she's the one who's been wronged by Amity the most. Their arc never feels like it resolves itself either, it just kinda peeters out.

If you've watched Little Witch Academia, Diana is who I think Amity should have emulated more. Diana is the top student at the school, she's stern and no-nonsense, a bit stuck-up, she comes from a prestigious family, she gets in conflict with the protagnoist, Akko, not because of bullying but because they have very different personalities and butt heads because of it. Akko considers Diana her rival, but this is one-sided on her part.

Willow and Amity could still have been friends in the past, but Amity instead pointedly ignores Willow's existence after their friendship has ended. She doesn't call out her friends for bullying Willow(that would make it seem like she cares) but she doesn't participate or encourage it. She's still not a good person, she still has to apologise to Willow, but changing their relationship from 'active bullying' to 'pretending Willow doesn't exist' would do a lot going forward for them I think. Still terrible, but more palatable in my eyes.

[brucie-baby]

also could you talk more about the violence as language thing for the batfam? I'm very interested in that and still new to the comics so I don't think I've picked up on it yet

Absolutely, I can!! It's pretty explicitly stated at one point, actually. I can give a couple examples.

Bruce hits Tim in #71, and this conversation happens in #81:

[Bruce says: "It was a message. Part of their training. A language. I teach them, when we spar, how we can communicate through blows. In case someone's watching. We were in plain sight. The blow told the bat-family to go quiet, to switch to other, more secure comms. In the meantime, I pursued Bane, knowing I would be defeated. I wanted them to break me, to see me broken. So that I might discover a way to defeat them outside of their watching eyes."]

I don't recall the language being explicitly mentioned at any other time but another example of this that I love is in Batgirl #50:

[Barbara says: Then why? Why in the name of god did you put yourself and Cassandra through that?" Bruce says: "Because she needed it. We both did." Barbara says: "What? Are you saying it was all some kind of screwed-up therapy session?" Bruce says: "What other therapy would Cassandra understand? She grew up with no other contact apart from violence. Fighting is her language, Barbara. The core of her being... of her soul. She had things she needed to get off her chest. And so did I." Barbara says: "You're crazy." Bruce says: "So they say. But it works."]

The thing about with these two is that violence is Cass' first language and Bruce's chosen language. It draws a lot of parallels between not only Bruce&Cass but also Bruce&Cain (but that's a post for another time).

I think it plays a big part in why Cass and Bruce click so well, because they both speak violence. It's a part of them. Bruce just doesn't always understand that while they're similar in this regard, they are not the same, and so he sometimes misunderstands what exactly Cass needs.

Also, I may be remembering this wrong (someone please correct me if I am), but there's a point in Batgirl (2000) where Cass is essentially like 'kill me because dying would fix me', and she's right. It does help her.

There's also this, from the Bruce Wayne - Murderer? storyline:

[Dick, attacking Bruce: "Aren't you even going to try to hit me? Acknowledge me! Damn it, Bruce!"]

I could go into real detail about these panels but honestly I think it's better to read the whole story yourself (very much recommend Murderer/Fugitive, love it). One thing I will mention, however, is that this is after Bruce is like 'Bruce Wayne is a mask, I'm Batman' and Dick is like 'Okay well if that's true then who am I the adopted son of? Who raised me?'

I just think the different ways you can interpret this fight are so interesting. Is it just Dick's anger? Is this Dick trying to prove that Bruce Wayne is not a mask, that he has people he cares for? Is it Dick trying to see how far gone Bruce is? Is it Dick being so used to speaking through violence with Bruce that this is the only way he can talk to him right now? Is the violence so normal that hitting Dick would prove that Bruce is still in there somewhere, still feeling, or would it prove that he truly isn't Bruce anymore? I have my own thoughts on this, but like I said, I recommend reading the whole thing for yourself and finding your own interpretation (it mostly depends on the version of Bruce in your head, to be honest).

The only thing that's definitive here is that the fight is a conversation. By the end of it, Dick has reached a conclusion. It's an argument and a heart-to-heart and a lecture and a vent all in one.

Overall, Bruce finds it easier to speak through blows than words. Maybe this is because he was exposed to violence at a young age, not raised by parents but an employee who allowed him to find himself through fighting and training and discipline. Whatever it was, the violence as a language started with Bruce and was given to his children. Bruce sees this in Cass and finds a kindred spirit. Bruce may not like violence, but he thrives in it.

[expatesque]

Being (nearly) 30 is so weird because like, the men around my dad's age who previously were no nuisance to me because they filtered me (correctly) into 'too young' are now not as concerned.

[qtubbo]

Btw I really do not want anymore english players in actual qsmp (unless it ends up like spanish players and they all disappear into the void) but if you like creator go check out their actual works outside of purgatory, a lot of the people added have a history with mcrp or stream a lot on their own :]

[spearxwind]

Honestly though sickness aside this was such a fun end of the year for what honestly is probably the best year of my life so far ngl

ive been getting into a lot of different things, having fun, being loved by a lot of people, i really couldnt ask for anything else

[jedibongrip]

a (semi)minor pet peeve of mine in fic writing/fanart spaces is when people tag anything to do with wearing feminine clothes or having a vagina as 'feminization.' like yeah, you can be feminizing someone while they wear a dress or as they engage in sexual acts with their vagina, but neither of those things NECESSARILY INHERENTLY equal feminization!!!

clothes are always gender-neutral!!!! a man wearing a dress is not necessarily a man who is feminizing themself or being feminized, even if theyre having sex!!! having a vagina does not automatically make a person feminized too!!!! having a vagina is also gender-neutral!!! even if terms like 'pussy' or 'cunt' are used, that does not equal femininity or an alignment with womanhood!!!

like i GET what people are trying to say when they say 'no feminization' or whatever but, its like. all it does is tell ME that THEY are unable to conceptualize clothing and bodies outside of the colonial gender binary. get a more exciting gender then write porn

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t get why people feel like the Duolingo owl is threatening, if I ever feel like he is I just get mad at him. I could fight an owl. I don’t know if I’d win, but I don’t think I’d lose (two things that can apparently coexist). I think I’d survive at least and that’s not really winning but also not losing.

You wanna be so threatening? Da bør du drepe meg!

[dyqo]

while japanese isn’t specifically a tonal language pitch does come into play in a lot of words and can be important (but not entirely necessary) in differentiating homonyms. For the most part i think its pretty intuitive but it definitely still trips me up at times. But i couldn’t explain how it works specifically if u payed me