#but if a person like her said ‘I’ve been playing men this whole time’ to me irl i would. idk.

[cctinsleybaxter]

I said something a few months back about how natasha lyonne referring to one of her characters as nonbinary rattled me because she’s only woman I’ve ever had a real crush on, and then deleted the post because I got embarrassed, but this is getting ridiculous

[wosoamazing]

‘Bass Boat’

Lucy Bronze x Bronze!R Leah Williamson x Bronze!R | Barça Femeni x Bronze!R

Your Bass Boat was your first gymnastics academy, the one you went to when you didn’t even understand what gymnastics was, when it was all about fun and friends.

Warnings: Abuse by coaches (verbal)

Notes: Inspired by Bass Boat Zach Bryan. Let me know what you think about it and what you want in a part 2 (if you want a part 2). 1.6k words

“Teeny,” Lucy said as you opened the door to her apart and you sprinted towards her before jumping into her arms, clinging on for dear life. Keira trailed behind you, rolling your suitcases into the apartment. You didn’t want your sister to pick you up from the airport, the risk of you breaking down in the airport was all too high, so you employed Keira, your sister’s ex to pick you up.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay,” Lucy told you as she held you tightly, waiting for you to break down, “it’s okay,”

“It’s not okay Luce, she-she-she-” you tried to get it out but you couldn’t, sobs wracking your body, Lucy sat on the couch, placing you in her lap, still holding you tightly, as you shattered in front of her, your whole world crumbling around you. 

She had been by your side for a lot of disappointment you’d face, however this was different. This wasn’t disappointment, this was years of bottled up frustration, and anger boiling over due to the addition of the current rage you had.

To think that she was there when you were 8 and you’d missed out on your first states competition. When you were 15 and told you were too young to go to the olympics, but a boy on the men’s team was the same age. When you were 19 and told you were too big to go to the olympics, yet you were the skinniest kid up for selection. To think that you’d never actually missed out on states. To think that you were never too young. To think that you weren’t too big. To think that one woman had managed to pull one of the biggest power plays seen in gymnastics, and that you were at the centre of it all. It boiled her blood and she couldn’t even begin to understand how you would feel. To have dedicated your entire life to one sport, to then find out that you never had just missed out on qualification. But that one woman, the person you trusted, the person who was meant to have your back, was sabotaging you. To know you could’ve gone to 3 olympics plus the upcoming olympics, the number of states and nationals and worlds you would’ve gone to. Should’ve gone to.

Your coach was harsh, but so was every other elite gymnastic coach that got their gymnasts to win gold. It was the norm, still is to a degree.

You were a star, and how do you make a star shine even brighter? 

You berate them. It’s not acceptable, but it’s accepted. To go to the olympics you needed to be verbally abused, belittled, told you weren’t good enough. It worked, it was known to work. Yeah it wasn’t good for mental health, but as long as you stuck those landings and hit your skills, it didn’t matter, right? Of course it didn’t, all the abuse washed away when you won a medal, or made it into a major tournament.

But what happened if it went too far? What was too far? Where was the line? What was the punishment? No one knew. 

They never got that far, the athletes always having cracked under the pressure, or given up, or injured out. No one had survived that amount of pressure and criticism until now. And what for? To find out it was all fake. No one had been this badly affected by a coach's actions until now. And for what, what did one, as a coach, gain out of the situation.

The biggest question that was floating around was how does a coach get away with something like this? How does one manage to fly so far under the radar whilst doing something so corrupt? They had done many rounds of coach investigations during your time, starting with the suspicious coaches and working their way through them all with a fine tooth comb, obviously it wasn’t fine enough.

You woke up the next morning completely disoriented, you’d obviously fallen asleep at some stage and Lucy had put you into the spare bed, your head felt heavy and your eyes sore, meaning despote how much you wanted to forget last night you couldn’t. In an attempt to forget about the fact you cried an ungodly amount last know you rolled over and picked your phone up off the bedside table before opening it and started filtering through the hundreds of notifications, most of which you just scrolled straight past, but there were roughly 5 you hovered over. They were from Leah, your relationship with Leah was… complicated. You’d had a few flings here and there with her over the years, however after the last one it was different, you both continued to message each other, almost every day, you’d seen each other since then, going on weekend trips together, you’d even shown up at one or two of her matches. But you didn’t really know what it was you had, and neither did Leah. It was so much the fact that the messages were from Leah but more what she had asked.

Are you okay?

That was a loaded question. Would you ever be okay? How does one recover from such an event? How does one begin to get their life back and come to terms with the fact that they could be a three time Olympian but because of one person they weren’t. Gymnastic GB, England Gymnastics and London City Gymnastics were all bringing cases on your behalf, but how does one even begin to quantify the past 20 years of one's life, what does one expect from a case like this.

Tears were about to start falling out of your eyes again when you heard a knock at your door, “come in,” you said, voice breaking slightly.

“Oh Teeny, I’m sorry, what can I do to help?” Lucy said as she sat down on the bed next to you, pulling you into her side.

“Distract me,”

“You could come to training, I’m sure they’d understand,” you nodded, it was a good distraction, “okay, well we’re going to leave in 15, you can eat breakfast there, or there is an up & go in the fridge for you,”

“What am I wearing?”

“Something comfortable and not hot. Activewear?”

“That I can do,” you smirked at her before pushing her out of your room so you could get dressed.

“Vamos Chicas,” Ona yelled as she walked ahead of you.

“We’re coming,” you grumbled before quickly following after her.

“I could’ve sworn that it was you, Lucy. She sounds so much like you,” Ingrid laughed as Mapi tried to slink off from beside her, “I can see you María, you may go talk to little Bronze but you will not, and I repeat will not, ask her to teach you how to backflip, you will get injured or Alexia will make you do laps or if you’re lucky maybe both with happen” Ingrid grilled her girlfriend, who nodded before continuing to seek you out.

“She isn’t going to listen to that you know,” Lucy laughed

“I know, but at least I can say ‘I told you so’ when she complains,” Ingrid admitted as Alexia joined them.

“Bon dia,” Alexia chimed.

“Mhmm, Bon dia,” Lucy said, slightly less enthusiastic.

“Com és ella? (How is she?)” Alexia asked, the team knew you were coming and Lucy made sure to tell them, well more like threatened them to not mention it to you.

“That’s a bit of a loaded question. I don’t know, she’s okay, trying to just distract herself from it, they still have no idea what they are going to do about it,” 

———

“Mapi, què dimonis estàs fent? (what the hell are you doing?)” Alexia asked as she joined you and Mapi on the pitch.

“Aprendre a retrocedir, (learning to backflip)” Mapi replied back

“María Pilar León, what did I tell you?” Ingrid shouted from the tunnel before Alexia could reply.

“No pedirle a Little Bronze que me enseñe a hacer una voltereta hacia atrás (Not to ask Little Bronze to teach me how to backflip),” Mapi stated guiltily.

“Seriosament (seriously),” Alexia rolled her eyes, “voltes ara (laps now),” Mapi groaned before she set off running, leaving you standing there confused, “laps now,” Alexia repeated herself this time in broken english.

“But- I-,” you tried to argue back.

“Això t'ensenyarà a no confiar en Mapi, ni tan sols a escoltar-la” Alexia said.

“This will teach you not to trust Mapi, or even listen to her,” Ona translated for you.

—

The team sat on the sidelines as they did some Strength and conditioning work, whilst they watched you and Mapi do your laps.

“Vamos Chica,” you smirked as you lapped Mapi for the second time, it was the one Spanish phrase you knew the meaning to. 

“She’s fit,” Frido said, slightly stunned.

“Well she is an athlete,” Lucy snapped at her Swedish teammate slightly, however Frido took no offence, knowing how stressed Lucy would be at the moment.

“És gimnasta. Les gimnastes són com màquines (She’s a gymnast. Gymnasts are like machines),” Alexia said and it was safe to say no one ever expected a sentence anywhere near the one Alexia had just said to ever leave her mouth.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ginger Rogers (Swing Time, Top Hat)—Look I’ll level with you, I’ve never seen her in a musical and I know that she’s an amazing dancer and she’ll be even hotter when I finally watch Top Hat but I’m not submitting her as a dancer I’m submitting her as an ACTRESS. Her comic timing is impeccable!!!!! She’s full to bursting with life and in every role she seems to be having FUN, you can practically feel the twinkle in her eye. With her natural warmth it’s like she’s letting you in on the joke, y’all get to have this fun together! Making me laugh is hot!!! [If you'd like to see Ginger dance, videos below the cut]

Dorothy Lamour (The Jungle Princess, Road to… movies)—Ok, to be honest, I get if no one wants to vote for her--she's kind of like my ~problematic fave~ because she started in the Road (Singapore, Bali, Hong Kong, etc) movies with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which are full of all sorts of exoticism tropes and usually have her playing very side-eye type roles..island princesses and things...yeah. also she banged J. Edgar Hoover. not very hot. but your honor i still think she's pretty despite all that she's pretty please look at her and tell me she's prettyyy

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Dorothy Lamour propaganda:

She started in jungle and South Seas movies and became famous in the Road series. She learned quickly to improvise when facing Bob and Bing. Road to Bali almost has her character marrying both of theirs, since she's island royalty and nobody had a problem with it - a nearly poly relationship, an epiphany for a viewer who didn't even know that that could happen! She was a popular pinup girl during World War 2, and was the first singer for the popular standard "It Could Happen to You". She sang often in her movies and has a lovely voice!

Ginger Rogers propaganda:

She needs no introduction! An undeniable powerhouse on the dancefloor, and no less talented an actress. I once watched a compilation of cinema's greatest dance scenes and one of her and Fred Astaire's dances was featured, and one of the talking heads said he pitied her for 'having to keep up with him' - or something to that effect. Bullshit, I cry. Ginger Rogers was his absolute equal, and underplaying her incredible skill is downright criminal. I want the 'Cheek to Cheek' sequence from Top Hat to be permanently burned into my memory.

"Backwards in high heels", as the saying goes (though the pedant in me must point out that she in fact spent her fair share of time leading or dancing side-by-side). One of the earliest twinkle-toed ladies of the silver screen, and in terms of acting/persona, her balance of wide-eyed cuteness and movie-star glamour has never quite been replicated.

we all know her beloved string of musicals with fred but ginger also has an extensive and varied non-fred filmography that she's great in! a few ginger moments that are important 2 me personally ginger singing “we’re in the money” in gold diggers of 1933, complete with a verse in pig latin bc this whole movie is kinda mocking the concept of anyone actually being in the money in 1933; ginger and una merkel singing a verse of “shuffle off to buffalo” in 42nd street, providing some statler & waldorf-esque commentary on newlyweds from the upper berth of a railway car (interesting that belly was apparently a risque word in 1933 - maybe its bc the lyric is innuendo-ing about out of wedlock pregnancies - and that panties was a term for men’s underthings!); a favorite fred & ginger number

Ginger Rogers could do everything! She could sing, dance and act. She was hilarious in comedies, moving in dramatic roles (she won an Oscar for Kitty Foyle in 1940) and absolutely gorgeous!

Listen, no shade to Fred Astaire at all, but she both kept up with him step for step and then later went on to WIN AN OSCAR FOR ACTING. (which he did not.) truly a double threat!!!

One of the best dancers in Hollywood! Her work with Fred Astaire is just incredible.

ONE LINE: "Everything Fred did, Ginger did backwards and in heels" AND THEYRE RIGHT! Rogers was a total dance badass, and a lot of movie buffs know the story, but the Never Gonna Dance number from Swing Time took almost 50 takes, and allegedly by the end of filming it her white shoes had been stained pink because her feet were bleeding. As a note, she looks crazy gorgeous in this number. Watching these two dance is insane. They match up to each other in a way my mom describes as "divine" and she's right. DANCE NUMBERS!

Let's Call The Whole Thing Off (Shall We Dance, 1937, dancing starts at 3:14, they're in ROLLERSKATES)

(Ginger Rogers is the hottest woman ever to live in this number. seeing this as a teenager altered my brain chemistry)

(also watch her feet and how she moves opposite Astaire in this one. We all know our boy Freddie had that precision demon but jesus christ Miss Rogers, let a girl live!)

Pick Yourself Up, Swing Time 1936 (Everyone's seen this one but by god you are going to see it AGAIN!)

Shall We Dance, 1937 (duet begins at 2:34)

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Roberta 1935 (There's just something about Ginger Rogers in a slick black dress man)

The Continental, The Gay Divorcee 1934 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cjv6nmF7wdk God she's MAGIC in this one.

Gay Divorcee's Ending Montage 1934The infamous table and chairs spin happens at about 0:49. Pay CLOSE attention to her in this bc it looks like witchcraft and I feel lightheaded whenever I watch this movie bc shes THAT awesome.

She is a miracle to watch. Sorry for the sheer amount of clips. My entire family is like madly in love with Ginger Rogers.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 6 part 2/2

Masterpost

‘Ouch,’ Tim thought gleefully as Bruce got his constipated expression. Damian was definitely pretending he thought it was admirable to frighten hapless Justice League niceguys. Damian knew better now. Damian even liked Jon Kent, who was basically like a tiny Captain Marvel.

Bruce really should know that. Tim could see the calculations whirring in his mind, weighing the odds of Damian being genuine.

He knew that Damian was a lot better now. That Damian had promised not to stab anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. That Damian had made friends and was less hostile to outsiders.

Bruce wasn’t confident enough that Damian knew better. He gave in. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” Bruce said sullenly. He stabbed at his breakfast.

‘You just got played by a ten year old.’

“Thank you Daddy,” Cass chirped.

Ah well, that’s it then. Game, set, and match. Bruce lifted his face enough to aim his watery i love my kids eyes at her.

Tim left the table without comment. He quietly thanked Alfred on his way out and gave a nod to Cass. Bruce was still glaring at his eggs. He’d be at it for a while, churning through the current state of his children’s social development and the relative healthiness of his personal relationships with Justice League coworkers.

‘I wonder why Cass cares about Marvel,’ Tim wondered idly. He didn’t have the slightest hint of doubt in her assertion. If Cass said that Bruce was too harsh for Marvel, then it was true. Marvel must be sensitive. But that didn’t mean Cass would interfere to protect a grown man from her dad’s growly temper. Maybe she had a crush? Marvel was pretty good-looking, if you were sick enough to be into hunky men with perfect teeth who were never rude to anyone and appeared to have no dark past. Sort of like crushing on that one cartoon surfer in the juice ads…

It was a minor puzzle piece that Tim tucked away for another time. 

He hung out in his room until it was time to get ready. Then Tim jogged down the stairs to the Batcave, humming under his breath.

Jason of all the people was already there, scowling at the screen. 

“Why are you up?” Tim asked. Didn’t he usually, sleep off half the day after a long patrol? Jason had been on the long shift last night.

Tim got a massively shitty expression from Jason  in return. “Patrol ended hours ago, dipstick. I’ve already slept.”

‘Those under eye circles say otherwise,’ Tim thought judgmentally. But he just shrugged. “Fair enough.” He breezed past to open up his equipment locker. 

“What are you doing?” Jason spun his chair around to watch. “Are you meeting Cass?”

Tim blinked. “No?” He unhooked his undersuit and pulled his t-shirt off over his head. He went to toss it in and then thought better of it. Tim conscientiously folded it so that there were no asshole comments from the peanut gallery. “Why do you ask?”

Jason thumbed at the cameras. “Because she’s leaving. Just got her green jacket from the living room.” He jutted his lower lip out. “I don’t know of anything on her schedule today.”

Huh. Tim stopped mid-motion. “There wasn’t anything on the master calendar,” he said slowly. He gave Jason a sideways look. “What are the odds of you following her?”

Jason looked tempted. “She’ll be mad if she notices me.”

“Yeah,” Tim agreed. It was just the truth. “But she’ll know you’re doing it because you’re worried about it, so she can’t get too mad. She got electrocuted yesterday. I’m not really sure she should be out unsupervised.”

Jason’s whole face twitched. “Yeah.”

‘Ah,’ Tim realized. ‘He already read her report. That’s probably why he came in.’

“You’re going to Amity.” Jason said it like it was an order, not a question. Tim nodded anyway and shucked his sweatpants. He started pulling on the sweat-wicking undersuit. “Yeah, alright.” Jason stood up with a scrape of the chair. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“You’re the best there’s ever been,” Tim lied earnestly. “I really appreciate it. I know that everyone else would say-”

“You’re a dick,” Jason said, and left the batcave quickly before Tim could say anything else nice to him.

Tim felt a lot better about leaving Gotham after that conversation. Jason was a huge angry clucking mother hen. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Cass. And Tim could be useful at the source of the problem without his attention split in worrying.

He clicked on his comms and switched to the YJ frequency. “Red Robin is on.”

The line clicked. “Wondergirl is here,” Cassie said happily. “You’re welcome, peons. I’m in the air already.”

“We’ll owe you forever, princess,” Kon snarked. “When can we kiss your boots?”

“You can kiss my a-”

“No chatter on the comms.” Tim typed up the mission start and sent it to the right file, marking that he was taking the jet. “I’ll see you in Amity.”

[temilyrights]

revelation

Summary:  Emily Prentiss x GN!Reader. Spencer helps you come to the realisation that maybe you've been looking in the wrong place for happy ever after all this time, and the person of your dreams is right in front of your eyes.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: References to drinking alcohol, slight sexuality panic.

A/N: hi it's been a year and a half since i posted anything but i read a half finished fic and suddenly got inspiration?! anyway i've missed you all and i hope you enjoy <3 (my one emily gif because i've lost all my gifs :D i want to cry!!)

How were you meant to know? Sure, you’d watched the movies and heard the songs just like everyone else, but no one had explained to you what it felt like. 

Plus, it wasn’t as if the movies were great demonstrations. They were always so dramatic, with tears and rain and running through airports. 

Spencer was the one, out of everyone, to point it out in the end. 

The whole team was gathered in JJ’s garden, a family event to mark the beginning of summer. Will and Hotch were grilling food on the BBQ, while JJ handed out alcohol that Rossi consumed generously, the kids were playing on Henry’s swing set, and Penelope, Derek, and Emily all spoke boisterously, their voices and laughter filling the garden. 

You stood to the side with Spencer, watching in bemusement. You had no idea what they were saying as they shouted excitedly at each other, but Emily was grinning, her cheeks flushed, and looking more carefree than you had seen her in a long time.  She was wearing a gorgeous blue vest top and jeans. You loved the top on her, it made her glow, complementing her skin and hair in a way that you couldn’t put accurately into words.  

Your heart stuttered, something that had been happening with increasing frequency recently, but you hadn’t given it much thought.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer said abruptly as his fingers drummed against the side of the cider bottle in his hand. 

You turned slightly to look at him, your brows furrowed at his thoughtful expression. You nodded, “Of course.” 

“Why—" He hesitates. You smile reassuringly at him and he takes a breath before continuing, “It’s not really my business, but I’ve watched the two of you and I guess I'm just confused as to why you’re not dating.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise but he continues. 

“I thought maybe you two were just keeping it a secret from the team, but it’s been years and neither of you have said anything, plus Emily gets this sad look in her eyes sometimes and I think if you were together she wouldn’t, and—”

“Me and Emily?” You stammer, “Why would you think…Emily and I-” 

Spencer’s brows shoot up. 

“She’s one of my closest friends. I don’t…I’m not…”

Your heart beat speeds up and you tug on the collar of your shirt to cool yourself down. 

You didn’t understand, Emily was your best friend. You knew she was a lesbian but you weren’t. You liked men. 

“But you don’t look at the rest of us the way you look at Emily.” Spencer says softly. “You look at her like she’s the sun. Like the world turns because of her.” 

You shake your head. 

No. 

“You love her.” 

No. No. No.

You didn’t. You’d know if you were in love, and okay, so maybe you’d never been in love before but loving a woman had never once crossed your mind. It’s not like you were against it, you'd just never thought about it. Why would you? You dated men. 

…you dated men and felt very little. Your relationships have always been short, and when the men would finally leave you’d feel nothing but relief as if the relationships were draining the happiness out of you. 

But you’d know if you’d like women, surely? Sure, Emily made your heart clench and your stomach swirl. Sure, every time you saw her you’d smile wider and maybe you thought about her often but that’s what friendship was, right? 

You gulp.

Spencer and Penelope were also your close friends, and you did think of them often and enjoy their company but it was different. 

You’d set Penelope up on a date with your friend just like week, but last month there’d been a detective flirting with Emily and you’d been in a terrible mood the entire time. The team had smirked and you hadn’t understood, only thought how unprofessional the detective was being and oh, oh. 

oh.

You loved her.

You didn’t know. 

You really didn’t know. 

No one had told you that this is what it felt like. You hadn’t known. 

A hand on your arm jolts you, and brings Emily’s concerned face into focus. “Hey, are you okay?” She asks, brows drawn together.

A couple of tears had made their way down your cheeks without your permission. Embarrassment burns through you and all that comes out of your mouth is an urgent, “I didn’t know.”

Her frown only depends, rightfully confused, and you don’t know what to say. Too many thoughts rushing through your brain all at once. 

Spencer and Derek stand together a few steps away, whispering hurriedly to each other. You catch your name and Spencer’s worried, “I didn’t think this would be the reaction.” Emily is only focused on you, and doesn’t seem to notice their conversation. 

“What do you need?” She asks, hand still touching your arm and it’s all too much. 

You shake your head, stepping away from the hand that burns your skin. “I just need a minute.” You say, already walking away and into the house where the world is a little bit quieter and there are no watchful eyes. 

You wipe away the tears and take deep steadying breaths as your heart beat slows down. 

You find a glass and fill it with water with shaky hands. You had no idea what happened to your cider. 

You lift the glass to your lips and take a couple of sips, feeling yourself steady even more as you focus on simple actions. You sense when Emily enters the room, able to pinpoint the tread of her boots against the others with ease, and really how had this ever come as a surprise to you?

How had you failed to notice something so glaringly obvious? Emily Prentiss. How many years have you wasted failing to notice her? Going on dates with meaningless men, running yourself in circles and feeling guilty for not feeling enough when that woman makes you feel everything. 

And you weren’t going to waste another minute. 

Your shoulders set as you come to your decision and you place the empty glass of water down on the counter. Emily, equally as tuned to you, notices the change in your stance and from the other side of the room asks, “Ready to talk about what happened outside?” 

You turn around to face her, and your breath catches in your throat slightly. Wow. 

The sun shining in through the window is lighting up half her face, making her dark eyes sparkle more than normal, and bringing out the silver tones in her raven hair. 

“Y/N?” She prompts, brows drawing back together in concern as she approaches you. 

You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. “We can talk about what happened outside another time. I actually have something else I need to ask you.” 

Emily’s head tilts slightly, confusion masking her expression. “Okay?” 

You blow out a breath, and gathering all your confidence, ask, “How would you like to go out to dinner with me Friday night?” 

“Oh,” Emily smiles, shrugging, clearly still confused. “Yeah, of course, did you want to finally try that new sushi place?” 

You sigh, “No Emily. For a date.”

Her eyes widen, “Oh, oh, uh.” There’s silence for a moment and then “Yes,” As a massive smile spreads across her face and a laugh ripples from her mouth. “What? Are you serious?” 

You can’t help but laugh too, your cheeks warming. “Yes. I’d love to take you out for dinner, if you’re agreeable.”

Her eyes turn soft as her hand reaches out and squeezes your arm, causing butterflies in your stomach. “I would love that more than anything.” 

“It’s a date then.” You smile, eyes dropping down briefly to her lips. 

“It’s a date.” She agrees. 

It may be only five days away but god you would do anything to bend time and move it closer. You’ve waited years, what’s another five days…

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @dalexandriag16 @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @alexblakeswife @quinnharkness @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu @strongsassysexysloane (i have you all listed as being on my taglist but i know its been over a year so if you wanna be removed pls just message me/fill out the form linked on my masterlist and i can take you off <3)

[thetriplets3]

Hi I have a request! In Taylor's new song there's lyrics "in the world of boys, he's a gentleman" could you do something about matt or chris with it??

❝𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧❞

matt was the first person to show me what love looked like. i had only been in one relationship that lasted 5 months then he “got bored” and started seeing someone before he even broke up with me.

i had my fair share of blind dates my friends insisted on setting me up with but none of them left me feeling loved. i always felt like an afterthought on these dates. they walk in the restaurant and head to a table leaving me trailing behind like a lost puppy. they’d spend the whole night talking themselves and finding a way to make it about them barely letting me get a word in, and they’d always ask for separate bills. those were the better of the dates. some of them would text me all day telling me how excited they were to see me and as soon as it came time for our date i was met with radio silence. i sat at countless tables repeatedly telling the server “he should be here soon”. i was embarrassed to be in this situation, especially since it isn’t the first time it’s happened.

there were plenty of times guys showed they were really just boys.

the last date i was on the guy wanted to take me to a fancy restaurant, saying i deserved to be given the best treatment. that was a lie. i’d been waiting in this high end restaurant alone for nearly an hour waiting. all my texts to him asking where he was got left on read. i was feeling self conscious, suddenly aware of everyone giving me pitiful looks, i don’t belong here i stand out like a sore thumb and it’s very obvious i’ve been stood up. my phone buzzed, causing me to immediately pick up my phone hoping he’d finally texted me back. a sigh escapes my lips when i see it’s a text from nick checking in on me.

nick

sooo how’s mr fancy treating you??

me

he ain’t shit. i’ve been waiting for him for almost an hour i feel like an animal at the zoo being stared at this is fucking embarrassing

nick

wtfff that’s horrible i’m so sorry. men suck

me

correction boys suck

nick

i say give him 20 minutes, if he doesn’t show up by then, leave

✿

~third person pov~

what she didn’t know is that nick had mentioned her situation to his brothers and without hesitation, matt headed to his room and changed into nicer clothes. nick and chris weren’t shocked when they saw matt all dressed up and heading out the door without a word. they know their brother would do anything for that girl, which is why he told her to wait, knowing matt would be there in minutes.

she has been by their side since grade 4. her and matt have always been closer than she was with the other boys. they were the perfect pair, they were meant for each other, just too shy to say anything. they didn’t need to admit anything though, their feelings showed through their actions.

matt pulled up to the restaurant and quickly made his way in scanning the dimly lit room for her beautiful face. within seconds his eyes meet her heartbroken face. he practically sprinted towards her, out of breath and ready with a fake excuse as to why he’s late.

hearing heavy quick steps in her direction, the girl whips head up only to be met with the person she really wanted to show up. a smile replaces her frown as she gets up, shimmying the hem off her dress down, and meets matt’s open arms.

“i’m so sorry i’m late, chris hurt himself so i had to bring him to the hospital. i would have texted you but my phone died and i was too panicked to try and call you” he says loud enough for people around to hear, before pulling her chair back to let her sit and tucking it in before seating himself. “once they saw chris i left and came straight here. i really didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long. i’m sorry love” he says, eyes boring into hers with sincerity.

“that’s okay you’re here now. i’m glad you were there to help him” the girl said, playing along with his story.

after finally eating, he paid for their meals and led her to the exit of the building with a gentle hand on her lower back. before heading outside he took off his jacket and put it on the girl.

“it’s cold out” he softly started, before holding the door open for her as she walks out the door with a true smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.

“thank you matt you didn’t have to do that. i was perfectly okay with leaving and getting an uber” she said as she gave him a hug and placed a delicate kiss to his cheek.

“you might have been okay with doing that but i’m not. you don’t deserve to get stood up and you got all dolled up i’d be mad at myself if i didn’t come here and just let you sit there even longer looking all pretty with no one there to appreciate you. i’d do anything for you in a heart beat, you know that” he said before holding her warm face in his hands, his eyes searching hers for approval. with a subtle nod and a glimmer in her eyes he wastes no time placing a sweet and loving kiss to her lips.

✿

~reader’s pov~

it wasn’t long after that night when matt asked me to be his girlfriend. he makes sure to show me everyday what it’s like to truly be loved. it’s the little things; subtly switching sides with me if we’re about to pass a group of creepy men or drunk boys; he’ll reach his hand behind him if he’s in the middle of a conversation or busy with something to hold my hand, letting me know he hasn’t forgotten about me; he always has extras of things i use often with him either in his car, his room or his backpack he’s got it. if my hairs bothering me and i forgot a hair clip or hair tie, he’s got one clipped to his bag and a hair tie around his wrist. if i need lip balm he’s got about 3 with him at any point, and he gets a taste of the strawberry lip balm each kiss, he can’t complain; knowing how clumsy and spatially unaware i am, any time i bend down to get something his hand is right there to stop me from bumping my head on it. he’ll brush my hair and attempt to braid it which usually ends up with him just playing with my hair, knowing how relaxing i find it. he can read me like a book he knows me better than anyone else and he’s always one step ahead of me, going that extra mile.

he makes me feel seen like no one has done before. i am his never ending thought, never an afterthought, like every boy made me feel like i was. matt has shown me what it’s like to be loved, i don’t know why i put up with being treated poorly for so long.

he’s a gentleman in a world full of boys

(not the lyrics but close enough)

taglist:

@antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld @strniolo @luvsturniolo

[stellarspecter]

STWG Daily Prompt 12/5/24: Smash or Pass

wc: 871 | pairing: spicy six + chrissy | rating: T | divider by @adornedwithlight

read on ao3

“Smash or pass, uhhhh,” Robin says, wracking her brain to think of a good competitor. They’ve been at it for a while now, and she’s historically bad at coming up with questions. “Eddie.”

Eddie shoots up from where he was laying upside down from an armchair, nearly falling off in the process. “Me?!”

Robin nods with a mischievous grin. “You.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s a stupid one, but go ahead, I guess. I suppose I’ll abstain from voting for this round.”

Robin looks expectantly at their friends gathered around the circle. “Well?”

Argyle is the first one to respond, thinking about it for a moment and then giving it a shrug. “Smash.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, but he acts cool about it. Or at least tries to. “Woah, really man?”

“Why not, brochacho? I feel like it’d be a good time.” Argyle doesn’t seem pressed about it, so Eddie tries to follow suit.

“Smash.” Jonathan is the next to join in, sitting next to Argyle, eyes red.

That one, Eddie’s surprised by. “Really, Jonny-boy? I thought you were more into strong independent women.”

Jonathan blushes a little. “Well, like Argyle said, why not?”

Eddie blinks. “Guess so.” He looks to the next person in the circle — the strong independent woman in question. “Nance?”

She hums thoughtfully. “Hmm. Smash.”

“Wh— you?” Eddie looks down at himself in shock. 

Nancy just smiles. “I’ve heard good things about guitarists and their fingers.”

Oh. Well, that makes a little more sense. He waggles his eyebrows at her. “They’re not wrong.”

Nancy laughs and looks expectantly at the next person: Chrissy. She blushes — she’s been blushing this whole game, but especially now that the person they’re talking about is right there — and gives him a small smile. “Um, smash.”

“Chrissy Cunningham!” Eddie gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in astonishment. “A nice young lady with a bad boy like me, imagine how they’d talk!”

She giggles. She’s always amused by his dramatics. “Well, sorry for thinking you’re cute!”

Now, that gives Eddie pause. That sounds real. “Cute?”

“I mean, yeah,” she says, playing with a loose strand of hair. “You’ve got those big eyes, and your hair is nice, and I like the way you talk.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. “Oh.”

“Okay, last one!” Robin says, rescuing either of them from having to say anything else. They break eye contact, both of their cheeks flushed. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna go?” Eddie asks.

Robin mimes retching. “You’re asking the lesbian that? Pass, Munson.” Eddie laughs. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Last one Steve, come on!” She says, hitting Steve in the arm where she’s sitting next to him.

Steve startles, blinking awake from where he had been zoned out. “Oh, it’s me already?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes, dingus. Now, Eddie, smash or pass?”

“Oh, easy,” Steve starts, and Eddie relaxes. This one’s a gimme. There’s no way Ladies’ Man Harrington is going to say — “Smash.”

Eddie gapes. “What.”

Steve snorts. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised, dude, you’ve seen yourself.”

Eddie looks down at himself, just to double-check that he hasn’t been bodyswapped with someone else in the last ten minutes. “Apparently not the way that you see me.”

“If it helps, I don’t see it either,” Robin tells him. “You look like a wet rat.”

Eddie laughs. “I guess everyone here just likes their men pathetic, then.”

And it’s weird to acknowledge out loud that all of his friends would fuck him if given the opportunity.

…Should he give them the opportunity?

He lounges back in the armchair, spreading his legs a little wider. “So, you all want a ride on the Munson Mobile, huh?”

Nancy wrinkles her nose. “Only if you never call it that again.”

Eddie laughs. “An easy bargain, milady. Deal.” He does a fake little bow, which is hard when sitting down.

“It’s kinda funny that we all have the same taste,” Steve says. “What are the odds?”

“What are the odds, indeed?” Eddie muses. He sits up a little straighter and looks around the circle. “You know, all you had to do was ask.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Jonathan asks. 

Eddie shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “Yeah, man. You’re all hot. Who am I to turn down an opportunity this good? I’m already lucky enough that you all like this ugly mug, but to have you all in the same place, admitting it?” He shakes his head. “I gotta say, kinda feels like this might be a dream.”

Steve knee-walks over to his chair and steps between his legs, putting his hands on his knees. Jesus Christ, these people are gonna kill him. “It’s not a dream,” he tells him. “It’s real. And we’d be lucky to have a chance with you too.”

“You have one,” Eddie breathes, and before he knows it he’s leaning down to kiss Steve.

He vaguely hears catcalling in the background, but he’s too distracted by Steve’s lips to pay it much thought. When they finally break away, he looks over to find the rest of his friends avidly watching. 

Steve is the one who smiles and says, “Who’s going next?”

Suffice it to say, Eddie’s never had a better night.

[majaloveschris]

For CE, they couldn’t accept AB and that’s why the whole racism and problematic friends came into play so quickly after they went public. IMHo, the fandom needed a reason to dislike her even though she is easily able to be disliked even without her dumb friends tweets. She has no talent, no charisma, seemingly no work ethic, and is an obvious clout chaser with a very bizarre Lolita obsession and a weird obsession with older men.//

Maja I know you try to cultivate a space where everyone feels safe to express their opinion but this is absolutely insane. The implication here by saying “the racism came into play because the fandom needed a reason to dislike her” is that no one actually cares about her documented history of racist and white supremacist behavior. That the fandom only uses it as an excuse to hate because if they weren’t looking to hate her it would have been such a non issue. Yall are so nasty. I’ve been here since end of 2021, and I never really liked him until the pandemic. People didn’t know about any of that until November/December after the pap walk because the fandom didn’t actually go digging until then. The bread crumbling and everything leading up to SMA was a back and forth with the fandom bc he acted single the entire time! And THEN She posted a naked video of herself on Instagram to deflect. And the fandom is just making shit up to hate???? This is a slap in the face to every WOC in this fandom or was in this fandom.

Also to their point about “if she was his age posting Lolita shit would it still be a problem???” YES. ARE YOU INSANE. Having such a public platform catering to an age regressor kink for men is BAD. No matter how you try to spin it. Now we know it was because she was literally catering to clients who pay for her exclusive content (thanks chaturbate copyright!!!) but it literally doesn’t matter how old you are. Using the Lolita/leon/coquette aesthetic to sell sex is always objectively BAD.

This is exactly why I wanted to answer that ask, to let that person know that what they think is not true. Most people don't like her because of her personality and her behavior; that's it, and that's the truth. As I said before, I'm not saying that even if she was the sweetest and kindest human being who was around Chris's age, there wouldn't be people who hated her just because, but I also don't like when people downplay the things they've said and done and say the fans made it up or overreacted it. 

The reason why I didn't mention the whole timeline thing you did is because at the very beginning, most people didn't think it was real, and they were already mad at them for trolling a lot. And not so long after the pap walk, people found those things, so everything kind of merged together at the time. But I do agree that the main reason most people don't like her is because of her personality and because of her friends, and it's really sad people downplay the seriousness of it. 

She can do whatever with her body, but she shouldn't act like this innocent little girl. If you want to sell your videos online, do it; who cares? But then please, own it. And I hate this whole Lolita shit. It is so toxic and disgusting. 

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 19/?

Can I offer everyone some distraction and escape tonight? If you have sent a prompt to my inbox, I will get on those tonight and tomorrow. Just wanted to get a longer offering up as well. It's going to get worse before it ever gets better. Do what you have to do to stay safe, and try to do good where you can. I pray for better days ahead.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

From the moment Tommy’s coven master stepped into the house, Evan could tell he was powerful.

Not as powerful as Tommy. Not as old as Tommy, either…but definitely not a new vampire. Something about the way he carried himself gave Evan the impression that he was used to being listened to. Obeyed. His dark eyes zeroed in on Evan as he made his way to Tommy’s living room, and even with no fangs visible, Evan absolutely received the message that this man would neither hesitate to kill him, nor feel an ounce of guilt over it. It should have been terrifying. And make no mistake, Evan was wary.

But he wasn’t afraid.

His magic hummed in the back of his mind, strong and ready to use to defend himself. Even if he had not recovered from the effects of using the teleport spell, though…Tommy wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

The knowledge settled in his mind, startling in its surety. Its absoluteness. Tommy wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Evan knew that.

He did not know how he knew that, or why it felt like such an immutable, inarguable fact. It was an insane thought to have. Sure, Tommy had put himself between Evan and danger several times already, but what possible reason could Evan have for thinking that he’d continue to do so? Against his own coven master, no less? He didn’t have one…and yet he was so completely confident in the belief that he met the vampire’s eyes squarely, his magic swirling contentedly through his body.

He listened as Tommy argued back and forth with his coven master, tensing as Alonzo revealed that the vampires were already spreading rumors about what had happened in Greenway’s office. He’d known in the back of his mind that the men who’d attacked them weren’t likely to just ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again…but the high coven had seemed the larger threat.

He couldn’t even really blame this Alonzo person for asking Tommy to get rid of him, to turn him over to the high coven and just cut his losses. Hadn’t Evan been begging Tommy to do just that before Alonzo appeared? It was the smart play—the only play that could possibly keep Tommy and his coven out of this.

God, he wanted to give Tommy a way out of this.

“I’ve been on my own before. I can manage. Just do what I said before…let me leave and have your coven master lodge a complaint with the high coven. Tell them I spelled you. I don’t—I don’t know what to do about the vampires, but at least that’ll get my people off of your coven.”

“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be the voice of reason. Listen to him, Thomas. We don’t have a lot of time to go with that story—not even a powerful witch could control you for very long.”

Evan ignored Alonzo, staring at Tommy as he seemed to consider their words. He wasn’t sure how this whole mess was going to end. He hoped Grant and her coven could find what they needed to in time to avoid a coven war…but Evan knew better than most the kinds of things that powerful covens could get away with when they wanted to. He wasn’t terribly confident. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to give them the chance.

He thought Tommy felt the same way. Like everything else about the vampire, it seemed a ridiculous thought to have. Three days ago, would have laughed out loud at the idea that a vampire could care about innocent people dying in a coven war. But he’d seen firsthand how much Tommy cared about his coven. Despite the horrible way they’d come into each other’s lives, Tommy had been nothing but honest with him. Honorable. Kind.

Protective.

He wasn’t an idiot. And he wasn’t naïve. Tommy had killed people. More people than Evan could probably conceive of, given how old he was. But Evan didn’t think the vampire was faking the disgust he seemed to feel for the wanton violence and cruelty of the party he’d rescued Evan from. He didn’t think Tommy was faking his desire to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in the city. Something inside Evan told him that Tommy wanted to stop what was coming just as much as Evan did.

The difference was, if Evan died in this storm they’d somehow entered into, the collateral damage would be minimal.

Sally had cut ties with him.

His parents had never cared for him to begin with.

Maddie probably thought he was already dead…or had abandoned her.

There was no one left to care if he died, but Tommy had a whole coven who would mourn him. Hell, Evan had interacted with them for less than two hours, but he could tell how close Tommy was with the two vampires who had come to the loft. There was no reason for Tommy to go down this road with him when there were so many people who would be hurt if Tommy got himself killed. He knew Tommy wouldn’t stand for just turning Evan over to the high coven, but letting him go and then taking a story about Evan casting a compulsion over Tommy to them was the absolute best move that Tommy could make. For his coven. For himself.

“I can’t do that.” The vampire’s voice was clear. Steady. Not a hint of doubt or hesitation in the words. Tommy’s eyes bored relentlessly into his, his back ramrod straight as he refused, refused the out Evan was offering him. “Evan, whoever is orchestrating all this, I’m not leaving you to face them down by yourself.”

And…what? Evan startled, barely managing to keep his mouth from falling open in shock. Wait—wait, no, he couldn’t have heard that correctly. That made no sense. That was—

“Thomas, are you insane? You can’t be serious!” Tommy’s coven master sounded as shocked as Evan felt, the cool, calm demeanor he’d been affecting since he entered the bungalow cracking.

He started to pace back and forth, his movements quick and agitated, and Evan tucked one hand behind his back, clenching his fist and focusing on his magic the way Sally had taught him, drawing it tightly inwards, ready to spring forth at his command. No witch was powerful enough to cast without the structure of a spell…but thanks to Sally’s lessons, Evan could cast faster than most.

Tommy stepped deliberately between them, facing his coven master, and Evan felt a flush of warmth he couldn’t even try to deny. Alonzo’s next words, though, were like a bucket of ice water being poured straight down Evan’s spine.

“If you do this, then I’ll have no choice but to disavow you. Sever our alliance.”

He gasped. He knew he gasped, the soft, breathy sound of it punching out of him entirely without his permission. No. No, Alonzo couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. And even if he was, there was no way that Tommy would—

“Exactly,” Tommy said. His voice was still so steady, so sure. As though he was talking about something as minor as changing the paint color in his living room or what he might make for dinner and not…not…

Tommy and his coven master continued speaking, but Evan couldn’t make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. He felt frozen, stopped, his mind swarming with memories and feelings that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to examine in years. The blood pounded in his head, his focus on his magic splintering. No. No, Tommy couldn’t—he wouldn’t…

“Thomas. You’ll be convenless.”

“I’ve been covenless before.”

Covenless. There were a thousand other meanings for that word, and Evan had lived every one for the last five years.

To be covenless was to be nothing. Less than nothing. When Evan had been banished from his coven, he’d lost everything. His home, his family, his familiar. His future. His identity. Everything that made him who he was had been stripped from him, and he’d been left to rebuild himself from fucking scratch…only he’d never be able to. Not really.

To be covenless was to be alone. Completely alone. Unwelcome in every corner of the world you’d thought would be yours forever, unwanted and uncared for. Evan had lost his coven bonds and he’d become a ghost. He’d lost everything when he lost his coven. How could Tommy just give it up?

Why…why would he do something like that for him?

Evan watched in frozen, horrified silence as Tommy did it. Severed himself from his coven. Turned his back on his home, his family, the people he cared for…for Evan. He listened to the oddly formal words—completely devoid of the power that he’d felt when the Pennsylvania high coven handed down his sentence, and yet somehow just as heavy. Just as important. Some part of him tried to remind himself that Tommy had said vampire covens didn’t function the way witch covens did. Vampire covens were alliances, not bonds that were formed in blood and magic…but it didn’t matter. Tommy was giving up his coven. For him.

To protect him. He’d said it. He’d said he wasn’t going to leave Evan to face this storm alone.

It was impossible. It was irrational. It made absolutely no sense. He was watching it with his own eyes, and he didn’t understand. He’d given himself up for Maddie. He’d sacrificed everything he ever was or ever would be to keep her safe, to make sure that she didn’t suffer for what she had to do to set herself free from Doug. He hadn’t set out to lose his coven because of it, he’d just known it was a likely outcome. Had Tommy known he was going to do this when his coven master walked through the door? Had he looked at the situation the way Evan had all those years ago, his sister’s heartwrenching sobs ringing in his ears as they stood over Doug’s still body, and made the same choice Evan had in that moment? How? How?

It had been an easy sacrifice for him to make for Maddie. Losing his coven had been the hardest thing he’d ever experienced or ever would experience, but it had been worth it to save his sister. Keep her safe. Protect her.

But…but he loved Maddie. Loved her more than anything else in the world, loved her more than he loved himself.

What motivation did Tommy have to give up his coven for Evan?

Tommy was still for a long moment after his coven master–fuck, his ex coven master, what had he done?—left the bungalow. Evan listened to the sound of the vampire's car start up, still feeling like he'd been encased in a block of ice. Tommy's shoulders slumped slightly as the sound of the car faded down the driveway, growing more and more distant, and he cracked his neck a couple times before turning to look at Evan.

Evan didn't know what his face looked like, but Tommy's immediately softened. It was almost unbearable to watch…Tommy had just made himself covenless, how could he have room to feel sympathy for Evan?

“Evan, remember. Coven bonds aren’t like what you’re used to for us. This isn’t…it doesn’t hurt me,” he said, and his voice was so, so gentle.

As if Evan was the one who needed to be handled carefully, as though Evan was the one hurting. Because he was hurting. Evan knew that without a doubt, knew it the same way he’d known that Tommy wouldn’t let his coven master hurt him—it was a quiet certainty, a solid as stone beneath his feet. He felt suddenly sick, too hot and too cold at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest, his magic thrumming through him insistently, and he shook his head.

“Why…” He broke off, suddenly unable to meet Tommy’s eyes, and swallowed hard. “Why did you do that?” he managed to choke out, his voice sounding alien to his own ears.

Tommy tilted his head slightly, a stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of him. “I’m not letting you do this alone,” he said, as though that were an actual reason to leave his coven, to voluntarily give it up.

Evan shook his head again, his head still spinning. “That doesn’t make sense!” he burst out. “Tommy, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

Infuriatingly, Tommy’s lips twitched into a smile, and he reached up to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder. There was no heat from the touch, of course, and yet Evan swore he could feel the shape of Tommy’s hand on him like a brand. His magic sparked through him, swirling in his chest like champagne bubbles. “I’ve heard that before, Evan. Hasn’t happened, yet,” he said.

“It’s not worth it,” Evan said.

Losing your coven isn’t worth it, Evan meant.

I’m not worth it, Evan meant.

Tommy’s hand loosened briefly, his fingers twitching like he wanted to move them. For a few heartbeats, Evan had the bizarre sense that Tommy was restraining himself from reaching up, brushing the skin of Evan’s throat, skating his fingers higher and higher to touch Evan’s face. Even more bizarre was the pulse of disappointment when Tommy merely patted his shoulder and stepped back, a strange expression twisting his features.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the vampire said. “Now…are you ready to start this snipe hunt?”

*

“How worried do we have to be about one of those locator spells?” Tommy asked as he guided the SUV onto the highway, heading for the address that his friend Chimney had provided.

Evan blinked, startled out of thoughts that would not stop racing in circles no matter how hard he tried. He was glad for the new topic to focus on, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the window. “Depends. If your, uh, if Alonzo lets the high coven have some of your stuff when he talks to them, it could be a problem. If it’s something you’re really attached to.” He opened his eyes and shot Tommy a sidelong glance. “Do you have a lot of things at your coven house?” he asked quietly.

Tommy chuckled, not taking his eyes off the road. It was hard to get a read on his expression, but he didn’t seem especially upset. “Some. Not as much as you might think someone could collect over eight hundred years. I’ve never really cared about things. Most of what I really give a shit about, I keep at the bungalow. But I can text Sal and Lucy and tell them to hide a few other things at the coven house.”

Evan nodded to himself. “We should have a day or two before it even becomes an issue—and they might not think it’s worth it. It’d be hard to hold a locator spell on a vampire. Most of our really complicated magic doesn’t work so great on you.”

Tommy made a curious hum. “Why’s that?”

Evan shrugged. “No one really knows. Probably for the same reason that you can’t turn witches.” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I can cast a charm that’ll let me know if someone’s trying to spell you,” he offered after a moment. “And disrupt it.”

“Will it be a drain on you? I’d rather you save your strength for when we run into trouble.”

“A disruption? Yeah, that’d be hard for me to keep up for very long…but the alert charm is simple. Sa—someone taught it to me when I was a kid, to help me channel my intentions in a spell. Those kinds of things, losing my coven bond doesn’t really, uh, doesn’t really affect me that much,” he finished quietly. “But it’s still a spell. I, I, I get it if you don’t want me casting anything on you.”

Tommy was silent for a long moment, before he said quietly, “I trust you, Evan. Do I need to pull over?”

“Wait, not? You want me to cast it now?” Evan blinked, the calm certainty in Tommy’s voice when he said he trusted him catching him off-guard. Tommy shrugged one shoulder.

“Might as well. I don’t want to risk getting distracted later—and any advantage we can get is worth taking.”

“Um, okay. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Uh, no, it—you won’t feel anything. Maybe like, a tingle? But it won’t hurt or anything. I can do it while you’re driving.” He pressed his lips together, considering. “Can I have your hand?”

Tommy startled a little at that, shooting him a quick, bemused look. “Sure?” he said, stretching one hand out toward Evan.

Evan took it, cradling it in his palms and resting two fingers on where Tommy’s pulsepoint should be in his wrist. It was odd not to feel the beat of life underneath his fingers, to trace skin that was oddly cool, blue veins standing out more starkly than he was used to. He leaned over Tommy’s hand and started chanting, his magic all but leaping to his fingertips as he murmured the familiar spell. Tommy kept his eyes on the road, but Evan could sense him shooting quick little looks his way, even as he held his hand trustingly still.

It was strangely intimate. The thought skipped through Evan’s head and was gone as he felt the spell building, his hands beginning to glow with the white light of a witch’s power. He breathed out the last words of the spell and pressed the magic gently into the skin of Tommy’s wrist, a sigil glowing briefly before fading to near invisibility. Tommy shivered as the sigil sunk in, his fingers flexing, but he held still until the light of Evan’s magic faded. Moving slowly—almost reluctantly?—he slipped his hand from Evan’s grasp and looked at the inside of his wrist, his eyebrow twitching upwards minutely.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it,” Evan confirmed, settling back in his seat and going back to staring out the window. “If anyone tries to cast on you, I’ll know.”

“Thank you, Evan,” Tommy said.

Evan nodded silently, watching the LA scenery fly past the window as Tommy sped towards Greenway’s house. He felt like his brain was spinning as fast as the tires, too much happening for him to really get a grasp on it. He needed to. He couldn’t afford to be spiraling with them potentially heading into a hostile situation. Everything—his confusion and disbelief and, yes, all right, his guilt over Tommy giving up his coven, his worry about what they were walking into, his fear for what could happen in this city if they failed, he had to let it all go. He could almost hear Sally’s voice in his head, chidingly reminding him that he needed to stay focused.

Find an anchor, little love. A single thing to concentrate on and hold onto that, no matter what.

Good advice…but advice he’d struggled to take all his life. He looked over at Tommy again, taking in his profile as he tried to read his stoic expression, tried to figure out what might be running through the vampire’s head. Tommy said he trusted him. After knowing him only a couple of days, Tommy was willing to take risks for him that he wouldn’t have asked of anyone in his coven except maybe Maddie. Had made sacrifices for him that Evan knew down to the marrow of his bones his own parents would never have made. Tommy said he trusted him.

Evan breathed out slowly, his magic ebbing through him in time to his heartbeat. In the face of everything, he let the simple truth that had been trying to form in his mind since Tommy had given up his place in his coven to protect Evan wash over him. He trusted Tommy, too. And that was what he was going to hold onto, no matter what.

*

Jonah Greenway had lived on a surprisingly quiet street in a small, nondescript house that was neither especially nice nor especially run-down. Tommy took a couple of laps around the block in the SUV, trying to scout if there was anybody already there. Evan had been slightly worried that the place would already have been under a police investigation, but credit where credit was due—the SoCal high coven was very good at keeping their world secret.

“Looks clear,” Tommy muttered after the third lap around the block. They’d stopped a few intersections and pulled into and reversed out of a couple of driveways to hopefully make it look as though they were just lost to any nosy neighbors who might notice a large SUV with heavily tinted windows. He pulled to a stop about a block down the street from Greenway’s house.

“Wait—how are we getting you in there?” Evan asked, tipping his head towards the window…and the sun-drenched street outside it. It would have been easier to wait ‘til at least dusk to leave the bungalow, but the need to give Grant and her coven enough time to do their own investigations created a sense of urgency that would not be ignored.

“I can take sunlight for a few minutes,” Tommy said, frowning distastefully and twisting in his seat to dis around in the floor behind him. He sat up a moment later with a large black hoodie and pulled a pair of gloves out of one of the pockets. “Although no offense, I’m gonna walk a hell of a lot faster than you.”

“Dressed like the villain in an after-school special?” Evan asked dubiously, his eyebrow climbing when Tommy pulled his sun visor down and grabbed a large pair of sunglasses clipped to the edge. “Really?”

“If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to avoid the third-degree sunburn I’m about to get.”

Evan debated a moment, drumming his fingers on his thigh and poking at the edges of his magic, feeling out the strength. Then he turned in his own seat, staring hard out the back windshield at the corner of Greenway’s house that was visible. There was a decently-sized porch with a roof, and Evan knew any witch worth his salt would have had look-away charms on his house, though they might have lost power when Greenway died. Still, if that was the case, then any hexes or traps he’d laid on the property would also be defunct, and Tommy would be able to break into the place quickly. Evan felt confident he could handle any hexes that were still active, and short out an alarm system fast enough that it would register as a glitch.

“Try not to move, okay?” he said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s wrist as he focused on the corner of the porch he could see, and chanted the spell.

His ears popped, the whole world going quiet and shadowy, sound muffling almost to the point that he was enveloped in silence. The air around him turned absolutely freezing, colder than any Pennsylvania winter, and as the spell ended he couldn’t help coughing. Beside him, he heard Tommy gasp something in a language he didn’t recognize—though by the tone, he could tell it wasn’t polite—and the vampire scrambled to his feet, his wrist twisting under Evan’s to grab at his hand and yank him to his feet as well.

They were standing on Greenway’s porch, well-shaded from the afternoon sunlight.

“What the hell?! What did you do?” Tommy demanded, looking around him in shock. “That wasn’t the same thing you did at the office!”

Evan laughed shortly, pulling away so he could examine the door in front of them. The fact that no defense spells had triggered when they appeared on the porch was encouraging, but he wasn’t going to just take it on faith that Greenway didn’t have something more powerful than simple charms and hexes waiting. “No—a teleport is major magic even when you have a coven bond. I’m not risking that unless there’s no other choice. I took us through the between.” He reached out and let his hand hover over the doorknob, unable to feel the telltale tingle of magic against his skin.

“The…wasn’t that where Greenway hid the flash drive?”

“Yup.”

“And you can…go…there?” Tommy continued slowly.

“If you know how. Most of us just use it like Greenway did. Like a hiding place. Kind of a magical safe-deposit box? But the between is as big or small as you know it is, and it exists wherever you know it will. So, if you know it’s big enough to fit you, and you know it exists where you want to be, you can get to it.”

“That—okay, that actually makes a weird sort of sense and explains a couple of encounters I’ve had over the years. I haven’t met any witch who could do something like that in a century or two, though.”

Evan shrugged, still examining the door. “Not a lot of us can, anymore. It’s old magic. Like, old-fashioned magic, not, uh, not old as in ancient. It’s easy to get lost in, so it’s not like it’s in the normal, everyday lessons. Sally only taught me because—” He broke off, his brain catching up with the amount of private information his mouth was just casually giving away.

Tommy was silent for a moment. “Sally was your familiar?” he asked gently.

Evan clenched his jaw, before nodding quickly. “I don’t think there’s any kind of spell on the door,” he said. Thankfully, Tommy accepted the abrupt subject change, stepping around Evan to grip the doorknob and give the door a fast, almost casual shove with his shoulder. The deadbolt snapped in an instant, and Tommy stepped back to interpose himself between Evan and anything that might be waiting for them inside.

Only silence greeted them, however.

Tommy cocked his head, listening intently, before his shoulders relaxed. “It’s empty,” he said. “But stay close.” He stepped inside the darkened interior of Greenway’s house. Evan took a deep breath and followed, his eyes roving over his surroundings curiously.

The house was surprisingly…sterile. It had all the trappings of a home—comfortable furniture, plush carpets on the floors, bookshelves full of books and mementos, art hanging on the walls. Yet, the place felt cold to Evan. There was none of the warmth and character of Tommy’s bungalow. The place felt like a showroom or a magazine cover. Everything perfectly chosen and placed to present a picture that it just…wasn’t.

It felt, he reflected wryly, like the house he had grown up in.

“Howie and Grant already searched the place for anything useful, but the high coven hasn’t gotten here yet. We need them to think we’re looking for something, get them to waste resources trying to find it first. Toss the place?” Tommy asked, glancing back at Evan with a questioning look. Evan shrugged, turning a slow circle in the large, open-plan living space that took up most of the first floor. Something felt…off.

“They really didn’t find anything?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.

“Nada,” Tommy confirmed, watching as Evan looked all around him. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, I just…there’s something…” he trailed off, the frustratingly feeling of something just out of his reach dancing at the edge of his senses. His eyes fell on a mirror propped up in the corner of a set of recessed bookshelves that had been built into the walls on either side of a large picture window in what Greenway had set up as his living room. Directly in front of the window was a large, ornate wooden writing desk. Evan tilted his head and followed the line of where the mirror was facing…to another mirror mounted on the wall by the stairs to the second story. The mirror was positioned oddly, slightly off-center of where Evan would expect it to be, just enough to look a little wonky. In fact, if he stood in front of that mirror and followed the line of where it was facing, he would find…

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Evan muttered.

“What?” Tommy demanded immediately.

In answer, Evan spun another slow circle in the center of the room, tracing the sightlines of multiple mirrors positioned all around the room. That was what he was feeling. He hadn’t quite shaken the chill of the between from his senses, after all…and there was quite a lot of the between in this room.

“He hid something else here,” Evan said, finding the mirror that was positioned in the northernmost part of the room and pacing away from it until he was as close to the center of where the sight lines of all five of the mirrors around the living space met as he could get. “Fucking smart bastard, I’ll give him that.”

“Evan, what are you talking about? I’m pretty sure Howie and Grant would have known to look in this between place.”

“Yeah, but they might not have realized how big the between is here,” Evan countered. “Like I said…it’s not something a lot of witches learn anymore.”

Tommy tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked curious, though, not dismissive. “You keep talking like the size of it can change. Isn’t space…you know, space? Like there have to be boundaries.”

“Ever been in one of those house of mirrors they do at fairs and theme parks?” Evan asked, centering himself and focusing hard. He murmured the appropriate spell and reached toward the desk, the way he had in the office building to find the flash drive. The way he’d—sort of, it was a little more complicated than he’d explained to Tommy—done to get them from the car to the porch to avoid the sunlight. Only this time, he reached further into the between. Through all the layers of it that Greenway had folded it upon itself, over and over, until only a witch or familiar who regularly used it to shift themselves through space and not just store and hide things in would have even realized there was that much of it to explore in this house.

Evan did not travel through the between regularly. It was not something that witches did anymore, the dangers of getting lost too great. But he had been very carefully trained by someone who had learned the art in times when it had been a valuable tool for survival.

His hand closed on something in the between, and he curled his fingers around it and yanked. There was a soft pop in the air, and when he looked at the empty desk again, there was a small, leatherbound ledger sitting innocuously in the center of it. “Gotcha,” he hissed. He hurried forward and scooped the ledger off the desk, pulling at the bands of elastic that bound it at each corner.

“Great work Ev—GET DOWN!” Tommy’s voice changed in a flash, rising to a bellow as he lunged at Evan. Between one breath and the next, Tommy had made it across the room and wrapped himself around Evan, pulling Evan tight against his chest and spinning them around so that Tommy’s back was to the window.

There was a loud sound of shattering glass.

The clatter of something hitting the desk.

And then the whole world around Evan exploded into a mass of light. And sound. And force.

Evan felt himself lifted off his feet, flung across the room. Tommy’s body was wrapped tight around him, the vampire’s arms shielding him protectively, his face pressed hard against Tommy’s throat. They hit the floor hard enough that the breath was knocked from Evan’s lungs, but he was still dimly aware of Tommy taking the brunt of the landing, rolling them with the momentum, one hand cradling the back of Evan’s head and keeping it from cracking on the hardwood floors as they came to a rolling halt.

Evan coughed, everything spinning around him in dizzying circles, his ears ringing so loudly he could barely hear anything over it. His whole body hurt, and when he pulled his head back from Tommy’s neck, the room was suddenly hazy with smoke. What…what had—

“Tommy?” he gasped, when the vampire made no move to let go, to get up. “Tommy, what—”

He could hardly hear his own voice, though he knew he was shouting. He gripped Tommy’s shoulder, more relief than he was willing to examine at the moment sweeping through him when he felt the vampire’s muscles bunch under his touch, felt Tommy shudder and start to struggle to get up. Something was wrong, though.

His vampire was moving too slowly, too sluggishly. When Evan blinked some of the hazy smoke out of his eyes, Tommy’s face—mere inches from his own—was twisted in a grimace of pain. Something hard pressed into the top of Evan’s abdomen, right under his breastbone, and he slowly became aware of a hot wetness seeping into his borrowed shirt. Gasping, he wrenched himself backwards enough so he could look down, a buzzing that had nothing to do with his ringing ears filling his head when his eyes focused on the massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that was poking into his chest.

The massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that had impaled Tommy through the back, gone clear through his body.

“Tommy! Tommy, what—”

“Evan…run,” his vampire managed to grit out, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.

“Aw come on Kinard. Let the witch stay.”

Evan’s heart sank, his eyes flying to the gaping hole where Greenway’s front window had been only seconds before. The blond vampire from the office building was clambering through the jagged opening, flanked by two other vampires that Evan hadn’t seen before. They were covered head to toe in the same getup that Tommy had been going to try to use to get across the sunny street—hoodies, gloves, long pants—but every inch of exposed skin was blistered and peeling, obviously burned by even what short exposure they’d had to the sun.

Blondie pulled his hood back, glaring at Evan and Tommy, a nasty smirk firmly in place on his face. Evan’s eyes flicked between the three of them as Tommy tried to push at his shoulder, still struggling to get his feet under him, even as more blood spurted out from around the piece of fucking shrapnel sprouting out of his chest.

Tommy was hurt. Badly.

The vampire who had protected him over and over, even when it made no logical sense for him to do so. The vampire who had been kinder and gentler to him over the past two days than any one of his own kind had been over the past five years. His vampire, who had refused to let Evan walk into danger alone.

His vampire, who had given up his own coven to stay by Evan’s side, against odds that would have sent any sane person running for the hills. His vampire.

Evan curled his arm protectively over Tommy’s back and reached for every drop of magic in his body, the most dangerous spell Sally had ever taught him fairly exploding out of him in a rush of power.

[yzy-dragon]

I absolutely ADORED S2E9 "Three Stories" of Link Click and was a bit surprised to see the discontent here on Tumblr, and I totally understand the reasons why people didn't like it, especially in the context of the pacing of the rest of S2 (which I also have some opinions on but I won't talk about that here), but I also felt the need to just get my heart out why I love it so much. A bit of background, I'm Chinese American but have lived in and visited China numerous times.

Music and theater. As a western classical musician and an amateur Chinese opera singer enthusiast (I saw someone else post about the possible inspo this episode got from Chinese opera), I VIBED with the artistic direction of this episode SO much. The three-part structure was almost like a sonata/symphony (and remember that one scene where Qian Jin was air-conducting in a previous episode!!) or scene changes in a Chinese opera. Nothing needs to be said about the animation style that hasn't been said already, but I like how scenes from the three individual "stories" were interwoven and reused like leitmotifs. Especially that crazy, tortured laughter. Idk if any of the parallels were intentional on the part of the director, but it's what I got from it due to my personal experiences. I know that's a highly subjective takeaway though, which brings me to my next point....

Qian Jin's "tragic" backstory. I know a lot of people were upset that the extent of Qian Jin's tragic backstory was "oh his wife cheated on him", but I think the "basicness" of his struggles was the whole point (by the way, this segment displayed various attitudes towards work, family, marriage, individual pride, and life in mainland China so subtly but so well!). I also don't think sympathy was the main thing we were supposed to feel for him, although of course there is some. The whole "tragicomedy" aspect of Qian Jin's story is that it's not some horrible, terrible, rare thing that happened to him, but a common problem faced by so many hardworking but busy married men trying to provide for their families: infidelity. But Qian Jin sees himself as the main character of an elaborate play that rivals the great dramatic classics (which, funnily enough, often depicted very DRAMATIZED versions of a rather basic series of events). And his viewpoint is validated when....

Qian Jin meets the twins. That segment is still largely from Qian Jin's perspective, because we still don't really know how LTC and LTX even feel about him. But for Qian Jin, it's a stroke of fate and fortune that could only possibly happen in theater. He's very far removed from reality at this point. Reality is that a cop whose job it is to investigate violent crime comes across two kids who are the victims of a violent crime. Again, nothing particularly special or even coincidential. It's comical like that.

The fairy tale section.  Unlike the first two, I think this segment is from Xixi’s perspective, which not only justifies the cartoony artstyle but also makes it heartbreaking, due to her childlike innocence.  Like Qian Jin, she also perceives her reality as something it’s not, but unlike him, she doesn’t have delusions of grandeur of being a tragic protagonist.  It’s just a little fox trying to survive in a forest full of predators and hunters.  

All that tortured laughter. I’ve actually noticed in a lot of Chinese media that they like to use laughter as a way of signifying a person’s complete mental breakdown due to the tragedies they’ve suffered.  It’s a very internal thing that has people on the outside going, “WTF?”  In this episode we have a lot of characters crazily laughing together at the same time and it seems like they’re relating to each other, but in reality they’re all trapped in their own nightmarish hells and motivated by selfish purposes. 

Back to the topic of Qian Jin, even though he (innaccurately) may see himself as the hero of his own story, it's not enough for him. He wants to use Cheng Xiaoshi to change the past. He wants to become the director of the play.

I know a lot of people were disappointed this episode didn't advance the plot, especially in regard to Cheng Xioashi and Lu Guang's storylines, but I was actually prepared for a backstory episode and couldn't have been more satisfied. Again, I have other opinions on the rest of S2 but at least standalone, I think this episode was nearly perfect. And I really wasn't expecting this, but it's really elevated Qian Jin to one of my top characters.

[kaylorstree]

TTPD Gaylor Lyric Analysis

Because there are so many songs, I’m only analysing the gayest ones.

SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO POST THIS!!!!!!

But Daddy I Love Him

Possibly Taylor’s gayest song EVER.

‘These people only raise you to cage you’

A lot of this is about her team, handlers and parents wanting her to stay closeted.

‘These people try to save you because they hate you’

This references judgemental religious people, to whom if she ever came out would want to save her, and pray for her, out of faux concern.

‘Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best’

Again, religious Bible names, but also could reference American conservatives.

‘Told my parents and they came around’

This has to be about being gay. I really doubt her parents wouldn’t have a HUGE problem or be able to influence her that much in terms of problematic men, since she has dated many previously, such as John Mayer and Jake Gylenhall.

��Tell him to floor it through the fences’

This references Getaway Car, but I also think it references the YNTCD fences, and the other fence meme.

‘I’d rather burn my whole life down’ Dating a man would never ‘burn down’ her entire life.

Down Bad

‘Crying at the gym’

Taylor and Karlie went to the gym all the time. There is so much photographic evidence of this.

Side note (which I think I have previously posted about): I’ve always found it odd how they would be so dressed up for the gym, particularly Taylor. It makes me think they were having lunch or hanging out in secret, for some privacy from the paparazzi maybe?

‘Like I just lost my twin’

Do I really need to elaborate this line?

‘Fuck it if I can’t have him’

I genuinely see no way Taylor couldn’t date any man she really wanted. The only way she REALLY couldn’t have someone would have to be a HUGE reason.

‘Did you take all my old clothes, just to leave me here naked and alone?’

A man wouldn’t take a woman’s clothes, Also, Taylor and Karlie shared a load of clothes back in the day.

Guilty As Sin?

The religious undertones continue, along with the references to heaven and angels.

‘Written mine on my upper thigh, only in my mind’

‘What if the way you hold me, is the thing that’s holy’

‘Without touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin’

Surely it isn’t a sin by any standards to THINK about having sex with a man? But a woman, YES.

‘I keep my longest locked, in lower case inside a vault’.

This was suggest she has repressed longings she needs to hide, but also suggests ‘loml’ and ‘iwannagetyouback’ are important to listen to and decipher.

Fresh Out The Slammer

‘Fresh out the slammer, I’m running back home to you’

This suggests being imprisoned or trapped. To consider a 6 year relationship as being a prison would be offensive to Joe, but would make sense if this was just another fake relationship she’s trapped in until she can finally be with the person she has been waiting for.

Clara Bow

‘You look like Stevie Nicks, in ‘75, the hair and lips’

At first I didn’t understand why this reference jumped out at me- I then realised that there was this tweet comparing Karlie to Steve Nicks’ ex, Linsday Buckingham.

‘You look like Clara Bow in this life, remarkable’

She sings about women and their features throughout this song.

‘Half moonshine, full eclipse’

Karlie is always referred to the sunshine, hiding the sun would be an eclipse.

Peter

‘In closets like cedar, preserved from when we were just kids’

‘You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me’

This suggests waiting for someone when they can finally be together.

‘As the men masqueraded, I hope you’d return’

Men masquerading suggests acting or pretending, just as her beards have been until she can be in a real relationship with the person she actually wants to be with.

iwannagetyouback

‘Wait til you fix your face’

Only a girl would need to fix their face. This also aligns with The 1975 song ‘Girls’, the one that was playing when Taylor and Karlie famously kissed.

‘Curse you out, or pull you into the closet’

I mean, again, when does someone ever literally pull some into a closet? Only figuratively.

Chloe Or Sam Or Sophia Or Marcus

The premise of the song is talking about someone bisexual. It’s impossible to decipher it any other way.

So, she’s outing and implicating one of her previous boyfriends which would be EXTREMELY problematic.

On the other hand, if she was singing about a bisexual woman, that would make sense. There is less stigma surrounding bisexual women compared to men, by some extent.

The Prophecy

‘Don’t want money, just someone who really loves me’

Again, this doesn’t make sense to attribute to a man. Why would she lose money by being in a relationship? Only if it was incredibly controversial, like a queer one.

Also, ‘The Prophecy’ suggests that this is the way things have to be, have been and will be. However, if she changes this it will not be expected for others in the future.

‘I got cursed like Eve got bitten’

‘Was it punishment?’

This alludes once again to sin and religious imagery, but also about how being LGBT can feel like a curse or something unwanted.

‘Looked to the sky’

This suggests God is responsible for the prophecy itself.

‘Pat around when I get home’ alludes to crime and accusations. Perhaps growing up her family were maybe onto her concerning where she’s been and who she’s been with.

Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?

‘You don’t get to tell me about sad’

‘You wouldn’t last a year in the asylum where they raised me’

As discussed online, Taylor didn’t grow up with any particular trauma or a bad childhood by any stretch of the imagination. However, the concept of her being closeted on a global scale, to constantly having to lie in order to keep her livelihood is pretty traumatic in my opinion.

A lot of people wouldn’t be able to survive that.

Please tell me what your interpretations are! 🌼🌈

[reinadelvudu]

As a Gambit fan, I’ve never been so salty about Romy in my life. (This is going to come across very anti Rogue, very sorry I know she’s your fav but I need this off my chest)

After their wedding you’d think things would get better but they never did, if anything it’s worse. He’s made to be comic relief and an overall joke for Rogue and that’s just not Gambit. He’s incompetent every time he’s with her and it’s gross. Over the last few Rogue and Gambit runs it’s clear as day she doesn’t love or respect him, she’s written like she hates him and that’s her husband? Nope. He needs to be free of her. He’s had so many fantastic relationships with people who genuinely like him, who are friends with him. Rogue and Gambit have only ever had sexual tension and pointless drama. They had their roll in the hay, tried the whole relationship for waaaaaay too long and it didn’t work. Romy is a toxic mess. Them being married hasn’t sloved it, nothing will. Gambit deserves better. She doesn’t love him and she never will. She doesn’t respect him or care about him unless he’s with someone else or in the ‘97 case, dead then she’s all about “her man”.

Gambit should be with someone who cares for him as a person not just as a sexy toy to parade around. He needs a healthy loving relationship and Rogue isn’t it. Not to mention all the mess with Mystique. When has Rogue ever defended him from her? Her mother has tried to kill him and has even sexually assaulted him yet that’s all in the past to play happy families for Rogue, Mystique still bitches and hates on him and now her wife does too and all we have from Rogue is “She’s my mama you have to trust her” YUCK! The trauma that man has been through for Rogue is horrendous. Roles reversed Gambit would be cancelled but Rogue’s a hot woman so fans think it’s cool to be abusive to your partner.

It feels like Romy fans are actually just Rogue fans because Remy is treated like dirt and that’s celebrated. They’re (not all of them, some ship and let ship and can appreciate the flaws in both characters and all of the writing) genuinely the worst comic fans in Marvel history, I think you’re the first Romy fan I haven’t blocked because you get his character. It’s so disheartening to see one of the best and most underrated characters used like a sex toy and a verbal punching bag. Justice for Remy because wheeew! Marvel won’t give it to him.

Rogue is my favorite female character BUT Gambit is above all, I would kill and die for him. So your verbal diarrhea is totally welcome. There's not much I can contribute because you've said it all and it's (sadly) true. But I will highlight two things: ''Roles reversed Gambit would be cancelled but Rogue's a hot woman so fans think it's cool to be abusive to your partner.'' ''It feels like Romy fans are actually just Rogue fans because Remy is treated like dirt and that's celebrated.'' Although writers/director are to blame for warping both characters every chance they get and not knowing how to write a mature couple, I too always felt that it's part of Rogue being a bitch to Gambit, it's something she can't seem to help. In the case of x men'97 I would like that from season 2 and until the definitive end of the series, they stay apart, just as teammates. I think it's the best and the fairest thing to do. As for the comics, I honestly can't think of anyone Remy could be in a serious relationship with. Well, not that he should be with anyone. I've been wanting to see him solo for a long time, just him on his own adventures, more of the guild, etc.

[beybaldes]

that which you cannot see

Simon Aumar x gn!reader

word count : 2.5k

summary : simon’s own insecurity blinds him to the feelings you reciprocate.

a/n : i know this isn't my usual djats content, and i should be working through requests lol, but i saw dnd;hat thursday and am now obsessed. expect more simon once ive worked through my djats stuff!!!

“I still can’t believe that he walked up and over the rock.” You hummed, thinking back on Xenk’s leave earlier in the day, laughter bubbling past your lips at the mental imagery of the action.

The five of you were gathered around the fire Holga had started on the beach, everyone having calmed down from Edgin’s earlier series of confessions and settling back into the playful group dynamic you’d so far formed on your adventure.

Your head was one more yawn away from settling onto Simon’s shoulder, your side already pressed against his, but the general chatter of the group was keeping you awake for now. Simon was completely flustered by your close proximity, your knee bumping against his every time you laughed at something Holga said, though he’d already prepared a list of reasons he could give as to why his face was flushed; namely that the hot flames were doing him no good.

Since Edgin had picked the two of you to join his adventure, there had been an unspoken thing between the two of you; you were always lingering a little too close to each other and were the first the other went to after a close call. As far as you, and the other three members of your group, were aware, you were courting. But to Simon, you weren’t there yet - him too scared to even mention the word in your presence less you reject him the same was Doric had.

That, combined with Simon’s general obliviousness, meant he didn’t notice any of the advances you’d made towards him, or the greater interest you showed him compared to your other companions. The same interest that had you now forgoing the conversation and leaning your head sleepily against his shoulder.

Silence came over Simon at the contact, his entire being stilling as you trusted him enough to rest on. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice until Edgin aimed a question at the two of you and he received no response. All of them now turned to face you both, surprised to find you fast asleep on Simon’s shoulder with him staring down at you in surprise.

“You owe me a sack of potatoes.” Holga chuckled, flicking at Edgin’s arm when he ignored her demand for her half of their bet.

“I don’t think i do, not yet at least.” He whispered back, taking in the look on Simon’s face. “Poor kid doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“Is this improper?” Simon asked, eyes unmoving from your finger which was curled into his side, your head snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck. “We’re not even courting.”

“Dammit.” Holga kicked her foot into the sand, knowing she’d have to wait another day without her precious prize of potatoes given the two of you weren’t formally courting yet. “Why aren’t you courting yet?”

“They do not think of me that way.” Simon sighed, eyes moving from you figure to look at his hands that had now started to nervously play with the hem of his cloak. “I’ve been told I’m quite the depressing person to be around.”

“They clearly like you, that included.” Edgin scolded, nudging his foot against Simon’s to grab his attention. “I think they’ve been pretty clear in their feelings for you, from the start of our journey.”

“No, no, I doubt it.” Simon had always been the worst believer in himself, and even though he so badly wanted what his friends were saying to be true, he wouldn’t believe it unless you yourself told him - and even then, he’d still find it hard to be true. “There are plenty of better men out there.”

“That doesn’t matter if all they want is you.” Edgin was sometimes wise, or maybe just a romantic at heart, but it would take a whole lot more then some sweet words to get the idea of courtship through Simon’s thick skull. “Besides, we’ve all seen how different things are between the two of you.”

Simon’s head shot up, to the amusement of his friends, confusion written across his feature. “What- what do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, you always ride together or walk together, even when we were in the under-dark, the first thing the two of you did when you thought we’d escaped that chubby, little dragon was reach for each other.”

“What he said.” Holga continued, biting into the potato she’d been carrying around with her, knowing she’d come to crave one eventually while she waited for her to win her and Edgin’s bet. “And you always look to them when your trying to cast a spell; when it goes right you look for them, when it goes wrong you look for them, and every time they’re already looking at you.”

“No. I don’t think so.” Had Simon really been so blind? Surely he wouldn’t noticed if his affections for you were returned; if he had he would’ve formally asked to court you already, so he supposed his friends were just reading into things. “I would’ve noticed. They would’ve said something.”

“You look at them like they hung the stars in the sky.” Doric whispered, heads snapping in her direction as she spoke up on the nature of her ex-courtship and his new love. “You care deeply, genuinely for them.”

“I care for all of you.” Simon asserted, offended by the suggestion he was treating you differently all because they thought - and correctly so - that he wanted to court you. “I treat y/n no different.”

Holga practically spat out her potato at the suggestion, throwing her head back with a cackle. “Now that is not true, and you and I both know it.”

“Leave the poor boy alone.” Edgin’s reprimanded, standing from his seat around the fire. “I suggest we get some rest, we have quite the journey to make come morning.”

Everyone else moved away slightly from the fire, giving each other space to sleep whilst not drifting too far from the warmth of the burning glow. Simon stayed in his place though, unsure of how to wake you, lest he wake you up only for you to be unable to sleep again. He settled on gently cradling your head in one hand, settling to scoop you from the log and lay you carefully in the sand. As he lifted you from your seat, into his arm, he stilled for a moment, admiring how good your features looked so close to his, everything about you accentuated by the glow of the dying fire. However, he must have stayed in his place for a moment too long, you stirring in your sleep and his almost dropping you in surprise.

“Simon?” You groaned sleepily, your voice thick and croaky as you woke. “What’s going on?”

“Oh! Hey! So…” Simon quickly got lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to explain how you’d ended up in this position. “Basically-“

“Can we just go to sleep?” You asked, tucking your head back into the crook of his neck, though this time somewhat consciously. That alone had heat rising to his cheeks once more. He had never been asleep since your abrupt arrival on the beach, but now you were pleading that the both of you slept - that had to mean something.

Or maybe you were just worried that he wouldn’t get enough rest for your journey tomorrow. Yeah, that was more likely.

“Of course we can, I’m sorry for waking you.” Simon rushed to put you comfortably on the ground, taking off his own cloak and covering you in it as though it were a blanket. He took his own position next to you, though not close enough that he’d be invading your personal space, he was close enough that he could be by your side in an instant if needed.

He didn’t realise just how cold it’d be on the seafront in the dark of night, but immediately brushed the though from his mind, knowing he’d rather have you warm then be warm himself.

“Get under here.” You grumbled from beneath his cloak, opening up a gap big enough for him to sliver himself into, right up against you. “You’ll be cold.”

“I’d rather be cold then improper.” He scolded, pushing gently on your hand to close the space you’d offered up to him, keeping the warmth in with you before the night air could risk it away.

“It’s not improper if we’re courting; and we practically are.”

Simon chocked on the very air he was breathing, turning to look at you in complete and utter shock. It was one thing to here it from his friends, but to hear it from you yourself? If he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d be quick to assume you were messing with him, in fear that he’d not be good enough to court with you.

“What?” He eventually managed to choke out, his eyes unmoving from your face that peaked out from beneath the collar of his cloak.

“Get under here, Simon. I won’t ask again.” The sorcerer still hesitated at your command, mind whirring at the fact you just said the two of you were ‘practically courting.’ He couldn’t think straight, let alone move to get under the warm cloak with you. “Simon?”

Though he could hear you, he couldn’t hear you - your calls of his name in worry going in one pointed ear and out the other without giving him the chance to process it.

“Simon!” You called once more, gaining his attention as, this time, your warm hands cupped his face, his cloak slipping down your form and puddling up in the sand.

Simon was quick to pull the cloak back over your shoulders, chastising you for letting it slip lest you catch a cold from the night air. His hands held it in place over your shoulders, worried now that you’d matched his sitting position it’d fall again the second he let go.

With his hands on your shoulders and yours cupping his face, the two of you had been brought dangerously close. So close, in fact, that he could feel the warm dust of your breath across his cheeks.

“I have a list.” He whispered into the space between you, eyes wide and face flushed as he spoke. “I wrote a list of why I would be a good courter. It’s in my pocket, but from the top of my head I can think of most of it, I think.”

World were tumbling from Simon’s lips as he did his best to seize the opportunity of a lifetime that sat in front of him. It’s not often the person he was interested in was interested in courting him back - let alone suggesting that the two of you were already courting.

“I can try and cast spells to protect you, I will always walk by your side or ahead of you to protect you from traps, I will give you my cloak when you get cold or to protect you from the rain. I can-“

You used the hands that were cupping his face to connect his lips to yours. You did your best to put all your feelings into the kiss, not getting offended by the lack of reciprocation on his behalf, knowing that he was just shocked. And within a minute, he was kissing you back, though hesitantly and with a great sense of unease to his actions, like he’d never done it before.

Now that you dwelled on it, there was a chance he never had done it before.

“I don’t care about the list.” You whispered against his lips, pressing chaste kisses to them between words. “I want you just as you are.”

Breathless, Simon stumbled through an attempt to question your words, knowing he himself would have his issues with him - so why wouldn’t you? “But what about-?”

You cut him off once more, pulling him in for yet another firm, passionate kiss; your head resting against his when you finally pulled away. He seemed just as stunned by that second kiss as he had been the first.

“Don’t care.” You whispered, pressing another chaste kiss, though this time, to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, and then the dimple that had appeared there. “Just want you.”

Now that was something Simon hadn’t heard before.

He no longer had the fire to use as an excuse for the warmth in his cheeks, it long dead and burnt out now, but he deemed he no longer needed excuses for the way you made him feel - not when you felt the same and declared it with such certainty.

“Oh. Cool.” Simon immediately grimaced at his words, wondering how on earth he’d picked that to say out of everything he could’ve said. That didn’t matter now though, he was sure he would have plenty of time going forward to tell you all this things he wanted to say, all the things he felt.

“You going to get under the cloak now or what?” You asked, a teasing lilt to your words that cracked a smile onto Simon’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I will, my love.” The words rolled so naturally from his tongue, as though he’d been born to say them, and to say them to you.

Once again, you lay down on the beach, opening up Simon’s own cloak to him and this time he hesitantly crawled inside the warm fabric. At first, his just lay with his side pressed tightly to yours, both of you half under the protection of the cloak. You quickly put an end to that, rolling onto your side and grabbing Simon’s arm, placing it gently over you and pulling him onto his side in doing so. Now the cloak rested comfortably over the both of you, the cold of the night no longer reaching you between the warmth of the fabric and the warmth of Simon’s hold.

Simon took a lot longer to drift off to sleep then you did, his mind moving at a million miles a second as he took everything that had happened today in. Not only had he ventured into the under-dark and been absolutely flung about by the helm of disjunction and his ancestor, but he’d somehow managed to court who he was sure was the love of his life.

A soft smile curled onto Simon’s lips as he let his head fall against the back of yours, curling into you and wrapping his arm tighter around you to keep you close to him. For the first time in a long time, the both of you slept soundly through the night, not stirring for anything or anyone: even when the following morning, Holga shrieked in glee at the sight of the two of you, crying out to Edgin-

“you owe me a sack of potatoes!”

[jacobsbigmelons]

Inspired by your username... Can I request one where Jacob's bf is obsessed with his pecs and like playing with them, maybe a first time blowjob too?

you don’t understand how much i love this

i am trying so hard not to self insert myself here because i’m a whole tiddy guy for men ESPECIALLY JACOBMYGODILLDOANYTHINGJUSTFORASQUEEZE

“They are pecs, not ‘tiddies’.”

Jacob Custos x male reader

nsfw, pec play, blowjobs, slightly public, muscle worship

“Anyone see Jacob? Y/N? They’ve just kinda been missing ever since we finished packing” Abi said, the sun beaming off of her colored hair. “Y/N always goes off on his own little trips, but Jacob? He probably got himself lost and trapped in a ditch somewhere knowing him” Kaitlyn spoke, her arms crossed over one another. “Or maybe they’re grabbing some last minute things?” Ryan shrugged as his suggestion floated in the air for a little bit “i think last minute was around 15 minutes ago, y’know…when the packing finished up?” “Touché” Ryan nodded.

“Hey don’t splash me!” Jacob complained as the cold water hit his body “Youre already wet stop being a baby!” You hollered before giving him another splash of lake water, which he returned just as quick. “Babe babe babe babe…babe! Watch this.” Jacob said as he swam towards the doc and pulled himself up as he wrapped his leg around the dock piling like a stripper pole, and began to rub his body from top to bottom before looking directly back to you. “You should be the next AdamandEve spokesperson” you yelled out, Jacob kept the pose, though with a confused look. “what’s that?” he said as he now wrapped his hand around the piling.

“Uh- website where you buy…y’know, stuff for late night bedroom stuff.” You said quieter as you also pulled yourself up onto the dock as you admired your boyfriends beautifully structured body. “I mean I could try but I don’t think they’d let me if it’s about sex and shit” Jacob said as he finally unraveled himself from the pole “and whys that? you got the body and you clearly know your way around a pole” You said as you pointed to him and the pole “Uh- Well i”m sure it wouldn’t matter but I uh…i’ve never been led to the bedroom, let’s say that.”

Jacobs statement drew a blank to you, you merely blinked at him for a few seconds before speaking “You never had sex?! Have you…ever had anything explicit with another person?” You we’re gonna speak more before Jacob intersected by putting his hand in front of him as a way to stop you from speaking. “Hey hey hey! I- I have actually thank you very much.” His tone trying not to waver nervously “mmmhm…lay with me” you demand with a small pat on the dock to let Jacob know to lay down as you shifted your body so your legs weren’t dangling off but instead laid on top of the dock.

Jacob walked the very few steps it took to get next to you as he crouched down before laying down fully, he put his arm behind his head as a way to support it. You moved in close to his chest as you rubbed your hand around his pecs and abs, the dripping water adding some shine to his physique. “Not saying i’m total eye candy but your more than welcome to admire” Jacob rubbed his other hand in-between your thighs.

“Yeah sure meathead” you teased as you sat up and straddled his lap as you looked down at him, his body definitely what Jacob labeled as ‘eye candy.’ You wrapped your hands on the sides of his chest before rubbing along it while playfully caressing the soft tissue in your hands. “You really like playing with my pecs huh?” Jacob stated, clearly not going to do anything to stop it though. “You got some hot tiddies what can I say.” You smiled before rubbing his chest again, Jacobs face now looking slightly offended.

“They are pecs…not tiddies, if you’re gonna play with ‘em at least show them some respect by calling them by what they’re called.” Jacob explained, of course he would get defensive over a muscle group. The hunk only knew brawn’s after all. “I’m so sorry your dear pectoral muscles got offended” you leaned down as you began to kiss your boyfriend, his underwear clearly not hiding how we was feeling anymore with the quite obvious poking you feel on your stomach.

The two of you made out until you decided to go lower down the body as you kissed around his neck, then his arms, biceps, back to his chest and nipples, abs, everything. The pleasurable sounds he made definitely let you know the effect you had on him then and there. “Your body is so fucking hot” your voice, slightly muffled as you spoke with your lips to his skin. At this point you already got to his dick, your hand rubbing against it as Jacob softly cursed.

“Can I suck you off?” You said sitting up straight once more as your hands were on the elastic parts of his underwear ready to take them off, his dick practically begging to be let out as it kept twitching. “Oh uh- Y-yeah! What uh…what should I do?” Jacob said slightly puzzled, trying to recollect every scene of porn he’s watched, yet it seemed like every little think he could try and think of wasn’t helping him decide what to do.

“Just lay there and look hot baby, let me do all the work for your first time” You confidently said, despite Jacob being slightly embarrassed at the fact that he has never been apart of explicit congress such as this, yet his confident personality hid a lot of that. You pulled off his last piece of clothing before moving it to the side, you leaned down as you licked the base of his penis while he led your hands back up to his chest, specifically to where his nipples were as if he wanted you to stimulate him up there while also doing it down there.

“Holy shit your fingers feel so good but your mouth is really doing a number down there” Jacob said in one breath, before you finally took his dick into your mouth. You went as far as you could and even just the tip going in was enough for Jacob to groan loudly. His hips began to move back and forth as you continued to rub and slightly pinch at his nipples. You grabbed his chest as a whole not long after as just grabbing his pecs and squishing them yourself was hot in its own way. “God this shouldn’t be so hot” Jacob quietly said with gaps in between as he was trying to not fumble his words from just how good he was feeling.

You were bobbing your head pretty quick, and it didn’t take long before Jacob eventually took a chunk of your hair in his hands and moved you up and down himself. “Take that big fucking dick in that tight fucking throat of yours.” He said as he began thrusting a lot faster, as well as his hips began to quiver a lot more. Only then was it when he stopped abruptly and cum began to leak from the small gaps of your mouth, that he finally let go of your hair.

“Oh my…fucking god, you gotta suck this dick a lot more babe jesus christ.” Jacob heaved as you took yourself off of his cock, cum making its way down your neck slightly. “We always got tonight, or if you want…you can be the one sucking this time.” You smirked while you used your arm to clean the mess that was made off of your body and Jacob was yet again lost in thought knowing the last night spent together at camp at least will be the most remembered for both him and you.

a/n: I finished this at like 3:20AM so if any of the last bits sound weird m so sorry ;-;

[introvertedandscared]

i was recently given a writing prompt simply titled 'blue' on an online forum i use, and wanted to try my hand at doing something for it.

i'm actually really proud of it- i dont know if its my best work, it always feels that way after i make something new, but it was really therapeutic to write and hey, practice makes perfect. ill never be any good if i dont work towards it.

this piece is an expression of my gender and identity, told through a narrative perspective. most of these events are either heavily fictionalised or not actual events in my life, and i'm unsure if the main character is actually me or not, but it is heavily related to my personal thoughts, feelings, and history.

its about 959 words, a short read, enjoy! and keep an eye out for more writing on this blog if you liked this ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Blue

My favourite shirt is blue. Not a bright, attention-catching blue, but a soft one. Like blue hydrangeas. That’s not why it’s my favourite—I don’t even like the colour blue all that much—but it’s what everyone notices about it. When my mother comes into my room and asks for the laundry, she’ll point out ‘the blue one that you wear all the time’. When my friends and I are coordinating our Halloween plans, they ask to borrow my blue shirt for their costume. My brother will tell me that my blue shirt has somehow ended up in his closet. I’ve come to think of it more as a title than anything else. My Blue Shirt. All words capitalised, because they are important.

The reason it’s my favourite shirt is because it’s mine. I bought it with my own money—I had a whole 15 bucks I’d earned from babysitting—at the small thrift store on the corner after school on a Tuesday. It had been the first thing I’d picked up off the rack, not even checking the price or size. I had a curfew, and I knew that if I didn’t buy something that afternoon, I never would. I was 12, and the shirt I grabbed was 3 sizes too large, but I didn't care. I wanted it.

I still remember the woman behind the counter that day. She was probably middle-aged. At the time, I was transfixed by strands of her greying hair. She seemed radiant and wise. Untouchable. She was beautiful.

When I laid the shirt out in front of her, she looked directly at me for the first time since I’d entered the store, an amused expression playing across her face.

“You know this is for a man, right?” She asked, taking in my short stature, my girlish pigtails and sport shorts. My t-shirt that had recently started clinging to all the wrong places on me. I hated my clothes; my mother bought them all. She asked me for my opinion, sometimes, but I was only ever given the option to choose between the lesser of two evils. This shirt or that one. Those skirts or these jeans. Lately, I’d just let her take over completely, letting my eyes wander through the aisles while she shopped. No matter what store we were in, my gaze would always land on the men's section. I always let it linger for a second too long.

“It’s… for my brother. Last minute costume change for his, um, dance team. He needs something blue,” I mumbled through my excuse, terrified the woman would question me more, but she’d already started ringing my purchase up. The bubble of hope that had been growing in my chest ever since I’d ridden my bike out of the school gates that afternoon finally burst, into something bright and fiery and right. Something completely new. 

Later, at home, I tried the shirt on in front of my mirror. It reached down to my knees and looked utterly ridiculous, but it also didn’t hug my torso and hips trying to accentuate not yet existent curves. It made my body little more than a formless mass of cloth.

Five minutes after I put it on, my brother walked by my bedroom door. He took one look at me and laughed, and I laughed with him. He said I looked ‘stupid as shit’—words I still found scandalous at that time—and I’d agreed, but once he left I couldn’t bring myself to reach my own eyes in my reflection. I was scared of what I’d see. 

It’s been four years, and I still have that shirt. I’m wearing it now, bent low over the bathroom sink, scissors clutched tightly in my left hand, watching my hair swirl down the drain. I feel bile rising up in my throat at the sight, but it’s not from… disgust or panic. It’s- fear. I am scared to see myself. I am scared to know, because once I do there is no going back. It may not seem like it, but I am not one to dwell on the past. I live in the now. The now where I have just sheared away all of my hair at 3 AM, in the house my great-grandparents built with their own two hands. I wonder if they would be disappointed in me.

I don’t know if my mother will be mad—it’s hard to tell with her—maybe she’ll scold me, or laugh and schedule an appointment to get the mess I’ve made fixed, or maybe she’ll reach out, eyes soft. Maybe she’ll finally see me.

But I need to see myself first. I have been blind for far too long.

I steel myself—taking a sharp, shuddering inhale of air—and look up into the face of the mirror before me. I look up, and it feels like the final piece slots into place. The final piece of a puzzle I’ve been trying to solve for four years. For my whole life. 

The face staring back at me is no longer a reflection but a reality; the burning feeling in the centre of me flaring to life, consuming everything I thought I was.

I press a gentle hand to my chest, pressing down the two masses of fat and connective tissue that have always seemed to burden me more than my peers. I let the folds of blue obscure them until it almost looks as though they are not there. I wish more than anything that they weren’t.

I take myself in, gaze reverent and disbelieving.

My blue shirt is my favourite shirt, because unlike all my others, it fits perfectly. Ever since I first bought it, it has fit perfectly.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

my own alastor headcanons…

warnings: discussion and mention of abuse, hell, killing, racism

note: i am also getting through my asks. i promise. ☺️

second note: these are just my own head canons. things i’ve noticed, how i write alastor, what plays into why i write al the way i do… etc. purely my own opinion.

- you know the whole thing hurt people, hurt people… at the core that’s who alastor is.

- he was a mommas boy and loved his mom so much

- his father was abusive, physically, mentally and emotionally

- his father would hit his mother and alastor

- many people turned a blind eye, this taught alastor to never trust anyone and that it’s just you for yourself at a very young age

- finally, alastor was tired of seeing his mother upset and hurt so while his father was asleep he killed him. alastor was 13-15 at the time.

- i believe that alastor’s mom is in heaven

- i also believe that she helped alastor hide the body of his father. in the same bayou that alastor used when he buried his victims

- his mom never knew there was anyone else alastor killed after his father.

- after killing his dad, he started down a slippery slope. he liked the power he felt when he had control over someone’s life or death. it was all in his hands

- but alastor has been said to have a unique moral code

- so i think he would kill any adult, but it was those that were distasteful

- the fathers who were abusive, the men who preyed upon women, the women who tore families apart just because, the mothers who were abusive

- he’s the equal opportunity killer and if you’re a shitty person you were on his radar.

- he got into voodoo to help his mom

- his mom got sick, nothing could cure her, he felt helpless, weak, so he turned to something that could help when praying didn’t. voodoo didn’t help either, but it was already too late… you know what they say about power corrupting you and when you make a deal… they stick

- ladies man, little fucking flirt, charming, suave, disarming. you’d want to take him to meet your momma

- he never married in his human life, chalked up to never finding the right girl.

- no one met his momma when he was alive. like girls just weren’t brought, people just weren’t brought to meet his momma. if you met her through alastor, you were very very special to him

- never happened though!

- he had the most gorgeous southern accent when he was a young man before getting into radio.

- he was told to loose it after the first broadcast. so he adopted the transatlantic accent we hear, to be more palatable to white listeners in the south. i mean, he was given an opportunity of a life time “especially for someone like him.”

- he went to church every sunday with his mom until she died. he’s very very knowledgeable about the bible

- just intelligent over all. likes reading, very meticulous, detail oriented, sharp and quick witted.

- he is deep deep deep down insecure. buried under years of acting like he’s the shit; pretending he’s amazing and the self assured confidence needed to be the radio host he was. this only became buried deeper when he went to hell.

- having someone who is supposed to protect you tear you down when you’re a kid does shit to you. (his dad)