#even though i don’t get the reference

[cellophaine]

Ok but the reader being young meredith grey coded is so real

Is it a good or bad thing? I’m so sorry Anon I’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy 😭

[ninkaku]

strange behaviour from the arcane fandom when a woman that has relations with another woman goes down a darker path and people condemn her whereas if she was a man in love with another man this would be lapppped up as “toxic yaoi”. please get a grip

[shy-sapphic-ace]

I really really really want to read a Oscar/Noel fic but I can’t?? find any?? I guess I have to write my own but it’s not the same :(

[biblicallyaccurateangeloncrack]

Pacing around my evil lair (my room) with hands behind my back, thinking intensely about my evil plans (sad over the penacony quest)

[dirtyassvoiceactors]

Oml ok Raven Queen coming in with a 2 for one boons on the menu kkkkk

Shes like “why these level 15 are fighting a godeater level creature, the last party i talked to who were doing that were level 20 wtf?! There’s a level 20 party on the moon, jeez you poor newbies here a free lvl up fuck it 2 for one”

RQ: “My life is in the hands of an idiot”

BH: “nonono, two eight idiots”

[darkwing-katy]

The Spider and the Fly Part V

Pairing: Eventual Leland x Reader (sorta? You’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 3,703

Summary: All you want to do is get through your online courses and keep your best friend from making bad choices in men. But there’s this creepy therapist who is absolutely insisting on you making an appointment with him. Who the hell is this Leland Townsend, and why won’t he leave you alone?!

Part five of seven. Takes place sometime around/between/during seasons one and two.

The series is inspired heavily by my favorite poem, “The Spider and the Fly” (1829) by Mary Howitt. This poem is in the public domain.

Tagging: @primosflowergarden; @vi-er

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

—————————————————————————————————

The Spider turned him round about and went into his den

For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again;

So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly

And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly

It’s been a long few days. You’ve switched to the opening shift so your afternoons and evenings are free, and you stayed up until midnight two days in a row getting all of your coursework done for the next two weeks. You know you’re going to need as much time as you can get if you want to accomplish this. 

And thus the stalking began. You now know where Leland lives, which is fitting because he knows where you live, too. You also know that he attends church rather frequently, though you can’t for the life of you imagine why. There’s no way in hell he’s a religious person, not with the things he’s said to you. There’s something else going on, and you decide you’re going to find out what.

You’re waiting outside for him to leave, if only so you can be certain that he’s not about to walk in while you try and glean his real motives. You’ll wait as long as it takes, your favorite coffee in hand. It’s warm outside, but it’s evening, and there’s a nice wind that’s breezing pass you every now and then, winding between the buildings and bringing the scents of pizza, hot dogs, sewage, and people. The scents of New York.

Ah! You see him. Leland steps out of the church and pauses for a moment. You can’t see his facial expression from here, but you’d bet almost anything that it’s a smirk or a sneer. He shakes his head in what appears to be glee from a distance as he goes down the stairs and makes a right at the sidewalk. You watch him disappear into the city and count to twenty before you leap up from your bench and rush to the church. You take the steps two at a time in your haste—you want to make sure he doesn’t double back and find you here. The sooner you’re inside, with those ornate doors closed behind you, the better.

You are now in the sanctuary of the church. It’s big and ostentatious, but there’s something about it that reassures you. You can be safe here. Leland can’t get you here.

It’s not true, of course, but it’s nice to feel the illusion of safety, even if you keep your eyes and ears alert as you walk down the aisle way to the front altar. Your eyes make note of anything interesting, which…is simultaneously a lot and very little. The interior of the church is beautiful, but there’s absolutely nothing here that screams Leland Townsend at you, nor is there anything that seems worthy of his attention.

So why the hell does he keep coming here?

You sit in a pew and prop your elbows up on the wooden pew ahead of you as you purse your lips in thought. What does Leland want? you wonder. There’s no way he’s here for God. So then…what?

“Can I help you?” a deep voice asks from your left.

You jump in your seat, your pulse racing. It’s not Leland’s voice, which is comforting, but the fact that he’s got you so paranoid is infuriating. You twist to see the speaker. It’s a tall man with dark skin and a bit of a beard. He doesn’t have on a clergy outfit—just a navy zippered sweater (that looks extremely cozy) over a nice button-up and jeans. He does wear a cross rosary, though, and his entire demeanor radiates peace.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a small smile. 

You immediately like him. “It’s fine,” you reply with a flippant wave of your hands. “That’s what I get for watching too many scary movies, I guess.”

He chuckles and indicates the pew you’re sitting in. “May I?”

You nod, and he takes a seat next to you, though you notice there’s room between you. Another green flag—he’s not trying to get all up in your business; he’s keeping a respectful distance. “Are you a priest here?”

He gives a casual shrug. “I’m working on it.”

“Ah.” You look away from him, back to the front of the church. You’re not sure what to say, so you say the first thing that pops into your head. “It’s peaceful here.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You turn back to him as he extends a hand. “My name is David Acosta.”

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N),” you reply as you accept his hand. He gives it a firm shake, a friendly one, before releasing your hand. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Are you new?”

You shake your head with a snort. “Not really. I was, uh, just looking for someone, I guess.” Would David know who Leland is? He’s not a priest, but he seems to be knowledgeable about this place. He noticed I’m not familiar, which means he must recognize familiar faces, right? 

David shrugs. “Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help. I work here,” he adds by way of explanation.

You decide to chance it. “Uhhh, Leland Townsend?”

David stills, and his eyes narrow, though it’s not so much accusatory as it is curious. “Why are you looking for Leland Townsend?” he asks, not unkindly, but there’s an edge there.

You turn so that your whole body is facing him, your legs half on the pew, half dangling off. “You know him?”

David gives you a slow nod, his lips pressed together into a thin line. The edge has spread to his eyes, but to his credit, he’s still looking at you with warmth. “You could say that,” he murmurs. “How do you know him?”

“He’s my therapist,” you grumble, and David’s eyes narrow even further. Now he’s giving you a suspicious look. “Or at least, he insists that he is.”

“You feel otherwise?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I fucking hate the guy,” you hiss. Your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. “Oh, wait! Sorry. Probably shouldn’t say ‘fucking’ in church. Oh, shit, I did it again!” You put your hand to your mouth. “Sorry. He just—I just—he’s so awful,” you finally grit out. “He won’t leave me alone and I’ve been trying to figure out why and so I followed him here and waited for him to leave and—,” 

David holds up a hand to stop you, the hardness in his gaze gone. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else,” he says in a low voice. You watch him rise and motion for you to follow him, which you do. 

You hadn’t meant to blurt all of that out, but you’re just so fucking done with the situation, and judging by the way David is reacting to the mention of Leland’s name, he knows full well who your stupid therapist is and how shitty of a guy he is. 

He leads you to a more private conference room. You take a seat at the long table in the center while David closes the doors. When he’s done, he sits down across from you and gives you a look of concern. “I’d like to know exactly what you know about Leland Townsend, if you don’t mind telling me,” he says. “How do you know him?”

You suck in a deep breath before launching into the whole shitstorm that’s been your life over the last few weeks. You try to censor yourself, not wanting to curse in front of a priest-in-training, but a few choice words slip out, more often when you arrive at the end of your tale. You’re too wrapped up in your anger to think about the words you’re using, and honestly? David doesn’t seem to care.

“And he threatened Betty again, and I’m just so fucking done with it, so I said, ‘Ya know what? Fuck it!’ And started following him everywhere because it’s not fair that he knows everything about me when I know nothing about him, and he keeps coming here—which makes no fucking sense ‘cause I seriously doubt that asshole is religious at all—so I came here to see if I could figure anything else out, but I don’t even know where the hell to start. All I know is that I’m done with it. I want him and his stupid pretty blue eyes out of my life.” You’re breathing heavily. Your chest rises up and down as you gulp in air, your heartbeat racing in your ears, but there’s something relieving about sharing all of this with someone else, even if he’s all but a complete stranger. A weight has been taken off. It’s not all the way gone, no, but it feels bearable now. You’re no longer alone.

David has listened patiently the whole time, asking a prodding question here or there to help you find more details, but otherwise, he’s sat there, his hands folded, his chin resting on top of his hands. When you’re done, he gives you a warm smile, and that smile breaks you. You feel a few hot tears slip out and swipe at them. “Sorry,” you mutter as your cheeks heat up. “Don’t mean to cry.”

There’s no judgement in his face, only understanding. “It’s okay. Leland has an ability to get under people’s skin, and you’re not the only one.” You sniffle. “You won’t be the last, either. But…” he hesitates, like he’s not sure if he should be telling you this.

“What?”

“You are the first person I’ve heard of who’s tried to get away from him. From what I know, most of his patients seem to…” he drifts off again.

You can fill in the blanks yourself. “Buy into his bullshit about human darkness and violence and stuff?”

David laughs. “Yeah.”

You chuckle. Something about that feels reassuring. “Well, maybe that’s why he keeps harassing me and threatening me.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you?”

You raise an eyebrow as David leans back. “Why don’t I what?”

“Why don’t you buy into his…methods?” he clarifies.

You think for a moment. You don’t really have an answer, other than you’re not an idiot and you’re not power hungry. Sure, it’s fun to torment Betty’s boys, and you’ve gone on a power trip or two with your own exes, but you don’t want to do it all the time. You love the thrill of discovering what scares a person, but you have other things you enjoy, too, like your creative writing. “I dunno,” you admit sheepishly. “I just…don’t.”

David gives you a gentle smile as he pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. “Is it alright if I make a phone call?”

It’s sweet of him to ask you for permission, even though he doesn’t need to. It’s so different from how Leland treats you, all sneers and aggression and slamming you against walls and blood—oops, now you’re picturing him with the blood again and this is not the time or place for that.

You’re in church. You will not be thinking about the attractive psychopath that’s constantly terrorizing you. You will not think about the gleam in his eyes as he rips you to pieces with his words, slices you apart in the hopes that you’ll lash out at him.

You will definitely not think about the dreams you’ve been having with him lately. The dreams where you two are fighting for dominance in the kitchen, you with a knife, him laughing every time you swipe at him. The dreams that end in blood and clothes on the floor, in bites and snarls and moans.

You are in church, for fuck’s sake. 

So why the fuck are you still thinking about it? Your cheeks are flushed, and you exhale in a pant. David has left the room, presumably to make his phone call, so at least he’s not here to witness you. 

You glance around the room in an attempt to distract yourself from thoughts of Leland. There’s a massive window that takes up the whole wall at the opposite end of the room from the door, a crucifix dangling on the wall, and another set of wooden doors behind you. Above you, the room raises to a point—very church-like. Ornate lanterns dangle down, lit up with soft warm glows. You smile at them before rising to go to the window. It’s still daylight, but the sun will be setting soon. You can see people walking down the street in front of the church—a woman with her dog, a man getting out of a car on his phone, a woman pushing a stroller with a toddler sitting in it, both of them licking ice cream cones. You smile at the sight and think that maybe you’ll get yourself an ice cream when this is over. You deserve a sweet treat of some sort, at least. 

And maybe more canned margaritas. You can’t go wrong with more margaritas.

A dark shadow catches your eye at the end of the street. It’s a dark figure stepping into an alley, but before it steps out of your line of sight, it turns and you swear it’s looking towards you. Then it’s gone, and you rub your eyes. 

“I need more sleep,” you mutter to yourself.

You linger at the window for a while longer, allowing your people-watching to distract you. By the time David returns, though, you’re back in your chair. He grins at you. “I have someone I think you should meet,” he tells you as he pulls out his own chair and sits in it.

You cock your head at him, curious. 

“Her name is Kristen, and she’s had several…incidents with Leland as well. But, like you, she’s managed to come out unscathed, and I think that she can help you deal with him.”

You feel your own face split into a grin. “Alrighty then,” you say, “let’s meet her.”

Less than a half-hour later, Kristen is sitting in front of you alongside David. You instantly like her, but in a different way than you do David. Whereas he feels safe and comfortable, Kristen feels like she’s strong, someone who doesn’t take shit from people. She gives you kind smiles as she asks you questions about your interactions with Leland, and you hold nothing back, not even Samantha’s suicide, a detail you hadn’t shared with David.

Neither of them offer any judgement on you for what you’ve done, and it’s nice, even though you still feel no guilt over it. It’s like sharing this secret part of yourself is lifting Leland’s hand from you, and you suddenly realize that he’s been using that knowledge to keep you under his thrall. By sharing it openly with these two strangers (can you really call them strangers, though?), you’re loosening the noose he’s tightened around you. 

Your spirit lifts a little higher. You can beat him. You can outsmart him.

And then, there’s the cherry on top.

“Leland Townsend is not his real name,” Kristen explains. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, not unlike the light you’ve seen in Leland’s every now and then.

“What’s his real name, then?” you ask. “I’ve tried digging into him and found literally nothing.”

There’s a wry smile on her face as she spills Leland’s darkest secrets—who he really is. The entire time, you’re paying rapt attention, memorizing everything that comes out of her mouth. She tells you the sad tale of Jake Perry, the awkward boy from Des Moines, Iowa who has had two failed marriages and is pretending to make pacts with demons to reinvent himself. You could kiss her in thanks with how much material she gives you on him, and honestly, you’re considering it because it’s just so good. This is what you’ve been missing, the puzzle pieces that will allow you to kick him to the curb once and for all. 

Kristen escorts you out of the church when all is said and done. “Are you okay?” she asks, giving you a concerned look.

You look up at the sky, pink and purple clouds rolling in with the night. “I am now,” you reply as you inhale deeply.

“Are you sure?”

You look at Kristen. “Why?”

She gives you a small smile. “Because I know what it’s like to have him in your head, (Y/N).”

You put your hands in your pockets. “Did he ever come to your house?”

She nods. “Yes. Once. He came out of it with stitches and hasn’t come back since.”

Your admiration for her grows. “That’s badass.” You frown as you remember that he seems to like that kind of thing. “But I’m pretty sure he’s into that.”

Kristen makes a face. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he is,” she agrees. “But he’s never shown up there again.”

“Are you saying I just need to stab him and kick him out?”

She laughs at that. “No, no. Not at all. But…” she glances behind you at the towering church, “if you feel threatened...” she trails off as she returns her gaze to you. “You know what? I want you to call me if he shows up again.” She hands you her phone. “Please.”

You take the phone from her and put your number in. You also add your address. Kristen doesn’t seem like the type of person to abuse this information in any way—and it does make you feel better knowing that you have a warrior on your side. When she receives her phone back, she sends you a message with her name so you have her number, which you promptly save. 

The two of you descend down the steps together. “Kristen?” you ask before she gets in her car. 

She looks at you, her short hair tossing in the breeze. “Yeah?”

“Am I—should I be worried about him?” You hate how small your voice suddenly is, how fragile. You’d vowed to not let him make you feel this way, but now that you have people helping you, people who understand, you’re finally allowing yourself to feel a little scared. Leland scares you, dammit. He’s unpredictable in so many ways, he’s aggressive, and you’re all alone in your little rental place. 

Kristen tilts her head at you, her eyes soft with—pity? concern? You’re not quite sure what. Then she walks back up to you and puts her hand on your shoulder. She gives it a gentle squeeze, and the sensation almost brings tears to your eyes again.

David had mentioned that she was the mother of four little girls. Maybe she was just going into mom-mode. Or maybe she senses that you need someone else to talk to about this, someone who understands.

Whatever the case, you accept her reassurance.

“He’s just a sad, pathetic old man who likes to make himself feel big by threatening people. He’s all talk and no bark,” she tells you.

You wish you could believe her. “He’s hurt me, though,” you reply, your voice still sounding small, insignificant, puny.

“Hit him back harder,” she replies. “Kick him in the dick, get away from him, and call me the second you see him lurking around your house again. I’ll come over and we’ll deal with him together.”

You hate that your eyes are still watering, but God, this feels so good. Kristen pulls back and fixes her dark eyes on you. “Do you want to come over to my place tonight? I can drive you to your house and you can pack up some stuff.”

You’re so, so close to saying yes. You’re lonely without Betty, who won’t be back for a few more weeks. But at the same time, you don’t want Leland to take your home from you. You’ll lock the doors, barricade them, and sleep with a steak knife under your pillow, but dammit, you’re not letting him scare you out of your home.

“No,” you say, and at least now your voice is stronger. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” You give Kristen a weak smile.

It’s clear that she doesn’t believe you, but she gives you a nod. “Let me take you home, at the very least,” she offers, and you accept. 

Waving goodbye to her when she drops you off is hard, but you genuinely appreciate that she comes in to inspect your place with you and make sure Leland isn’t lurking around. She doesn’t judge your mess of homework that’s been scattered across the kitchen table, nor does she comment on the amount of canned booze that litters your trash can. If anything, the sight makes her chuckle and tell you that she drinks the same thing, which gives you a little more hope. If she can chase Leland away and she drinks canned margaritas, then dammit, so can you!

When she leaves, you do exactly as you said you would. You lock every door and window and barricade them. You’re not taking any chances that Leland will break in tonight, even if he can’t possibly have any reason to do so. When you’re done, you grab a can from the fridge and sit on the couch. You pull up your favorite music streaming channel and put the playlist on shuffle. Almost immediately, ‘Vigilante’ by Taylor Swift starts. Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man…

You listen to to the words, let them soak into your brain along with everything Kristen and David have told you tonight. By the time the song ends, you’re ready—ready to set a trap to snare the fly known as Jake Perry. After all, don’t get sad, get even is a fantastic motto to have.

Then he came out to his door again and merrily did sing,

“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing!

Your robes are green and purple—there’s a crest upon your head,

Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!”

Part Six

[sigurdjarlson]

I always found that sweet how a lot of the time in TLG Med would jump to reassure Khadgar or even apologize after snapping at him

And yet in some ways the cruelest thing Medivh said to Khadgar in my opinion was correcting him when he called Karazhan “Our Tower.” And reminding him he was there at his whim and he could send him away at any time.

And he never did apologize for that one and honestly I don’t really blame Med for that per se? It is his tower and Khadgar can’t tell him who is allowed there. What I mean is going by JUST the power dynamic they have as mentor-apprentice, Khadgar is absolutely out of line there

In some ways could have come off quite spoiled and entitled but the thing is I don’t think that was the case at all.

He’s become so comfortable in Karazhan he’d started thinking of it as his home. Then Medivh has in one conversation reminded him it very much was not his home and he could send him away at anytime if he so wished it

He’d finally found someone who cared about him, respected him and treated him as a person. He found a place where he felt he belonged for once in his life and…

No wonder he was so jealous of Garona for a while after that. He’d been reminded that all of it could be taken from him at any moment and here was someone stealing his Master’s attention.

Just thinking about how that jealousy so obviously comes with feeling like he’s not enough and insecurity about his place in Med’s life.

Just very interesting how I think it could very well have went over Med’s head as not that big of a deal too? One of those things he’d be like huh oh yeah I said that? Meanwhile Khadgar is spiraling about it

He could of also been absolutely aware of how harsh it was because Medivh does lash out like that on occasion (especially towards the end of the book as Sargeras gets harder and harder to fight) he can be a little shit we know this

(Don’t really blame him for that given being possessed by the demon lord Sargeras is probably just a teensy bit tiring /s)

Also seen valid and honestly very possibly canon interpretations where he’s also trying to push Khadgar away cuz he knows what’s coming and what Khadgar is going to have to do.

The more attached to him he is the more difficult it will be for Khadgar to do what needs to be done.

What better way to push someone away then hit them right where it hurts?

And yet even then I think those words hurt Khadgar deeper than he’ll ever know :(

[carebearcody]

“who died and left aristotle in charge of ethics”

“plato”

[rosemaze-reveries]

it took me 4hrs just to complete weepy’s 9th deduction but i finally unlocked this mf chart 🏌️ i feel like my souls been gutted out goodbye tumblr im quitting idv

[starmoji1]

Quick Sims Ramble

I know I don’t post sims stuff on my blog (plan to in the future), but I’ve a simmer since 2017 and I’ve got thoughts.

I still remember some cc creators throwing tantrums bc EA threatened to uphold their 2-3 week (14-21 day) rule for paywalls—and proceeded to do absolutely nothing. Many of those posts from back then are still up btw, you can easily see what your favs think of you and how some of them see you as a walking wallet.

Speaking of cc creators and modders crying over money, Curseforge, why do you continue to use it? It’s been months now since that tweet of Overwolf (CF’s owner) explicitly stating they’re donating to the IDF, so I’m gonna assume most of you have had sufficient time to read about it and understand why it’s an issue. Of course, grace is to be afforded to those who are late to the party, but I think it’s crazy to know what they’re doing and willingly continue to support. It’s got to be the money.

The website ugly and janky as hell, too, so it’s GOT to be the money. 😭

And if money is the problem, doing Early Access via Patreon is always an option. Ko-Fi’s an option. Gumroad’s an option. You got options that actually look good, raise your standards, I beg. And there’s free alternatives such as Google Drive, Mega, OneDrive, SimsFileShare; there’s simmers on this platform right now who are willing to give you a SFS code for free. And what about NexusMods? I’ve seen people post their cc and mods there.

Point is, you got options. So, why are you all acting like deleting your content off one gutterbutt platform is gonna bring the end of the world? All you have to do is release it for free after 14-21 days, and if you do so consistently, people will willingly donate money to support you—because you’ll be showing yourself as a reliable content creator who makes good content they like. You can get your money. CF is not the end all, be all of modding platforms.

So, please stop throwing tantrums and giving fifty-leven reasons why you can’t migrate off one platform.

[simcardiac-arrested]

i don’t think we’re ever getting out of the “we’re just friends” “oh yeah those characters are such good friends (sarcasm)” “they’re not friends they’re gay” etc etc hole. we’re never getting out of that hole

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind

[chilapis]

Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.

[no1ryomafan]

Sometimes I wonder why the fuck I make a outline for chapter fics sometimes other then “here’s a vague idea of what goes on in this chapter/point of the story” cause like- it’s good to plan stuff out, but I straight up don’t check my outline and simply go “you know what would be funny” and this continues to fucking happen especially with my stupid crossover fic 😭

[drivemysoul]

i changed my url on my sideblog (it used to be transboy[character] and now it’s completely different) and it’s making me real sad and conflicted and confused about a lot

[belle-of-a-time]

I accidentally stayed up till 3:30am crocheting a big bug and tbh I’m so excited to go to sleep and I only stopped because the skein I was working from ran out and I cannot be bothered to get a new one. The only thought in my brain rn is

Mipillede