#god forbid poor people own nice things.

[cipheral]

I think tumblr people would try and eat me alive if I ever admitted how expensive some of my clothes are. You dont want to hear how expensive my boots were. You dont wanna know how expensive the lehenga i got for xmas was. Hell don't look at how expensive my cosplay stuff was. Im below poverty line. I just choose to spend spare money in places that I either have already invested in (cosplay), or on things that are important (durable boots)

[hotchswifey]

insomnia - dean winchester x reader

(this is the first thing i have written in about 2 years 😭😭😭😭

it kinda sucks but i like it

warnings: insomnia (i am aware that any sleep disorders cannot be cured by another person and i do not mean to take away from people who suffer from these conditions, this was just a cute little idea i had), a little angst?? (just about how much deans life sucks.), fluff, cuddling, overthinking, thinking badly about yourself (ur thoughts can be mean but ur lovely and brilliant <3333)

also i have a hc that dean goes really silent when he's tired, except he can't go silent around most people bc then they start to think something is really wrong™, but actually he is just too exhausted to try to talk (self-projection? maybe.)

word count: 2373)

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You rubbed at your tired eyes, walking into the bunker’s kitchen, your eyes adjusting to the light that definitely shouldn’t have been on - considering it was 3.32am. Your eyes fell on Dean, who was hunched over the island counter eating cereal. ‘Should’ve figured it was him who couldn’t sleep, too’, you thought. As bad as your sleeping habits had gotten, you always marvelled at Dean’s capability to be a functioning human with so little sleep.

He had noticed you as soon as you stepped foot in the room, but he did nothing to acknowledge your presence. Figures. You reasoned that the poor guy’s probably slept twice in the last week. You didn’t address him either; whether it was sleep deprivation or knowing he wanted to be left alone, you didn’t know. You just went to grab yourself a bowl of cereal. 

It was quiet (except for the sound of pouring milk and Dean’s chewing), but it was comfortable. It gave you some peace knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep - something so simple yet far out of your reach. You didn’t know when it happened (your inability to sleep), but ‘it comes with the life,’ you supposed. You grabbed your bowl and left Dean to ponder on his own.

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

You rubbed at your tired eyes again. The same routine - lay in bed for hours, eventually get up because you’re hungry, head to the kitchen and find the light on. Again and again, this happened - Dean always sat there. It had become a funny thing kind of (in an unhealthy, oh-my-god-i-just-want-to-sleep-but-i-guess-it’s-nice-to-see-dean type of way). 

He didn’t acknowledge you, you didn’t acknowledge him, you poured your cereal to the sound of Dean chewing and went back to your room to eat. You wished he would invite you to sit down, even if you both ate silently. It was nice not to be alone at night, overthinking every gruesome and terrible thing to come. But you knew it was Dean, and he definitely needed some peace, quiet, and alone time (and this was the most alone time he willingly gave himself). 

You ate back in your room, not sleeping for yet another night.

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

You and the boys had just got back from a vamp hunt. Sore, tired and, frankly, pissed off. The hunt was fine, you all supposed. But, god, it takes a lot to completely decapitate somebody. Your energy was all drained, and the only thing you wanted to do was sleep - but could you? No. Of course, you couldn’t. Why? A thunderstorm? Fireworks? Gunshots? No. Because your brain hates you. God forbid you get an ounce of sleep.

Your routine ensued again, more sluggish this time and certainly more pissed. All you wanted to do was behead a few vamps and sleep it off, but no. Of course not. Try to sleep, fail to sleep, get up and haul your ass to the kitchen, pour cereal, eat cereal. How did your life become so dull?

The lights are on again. You think, ‘There is no way in all hell Dean is awake. That boy put himself through more physical torment you could ever even dream of (not that you’d want to)’. You weren’t too shocked when, even after today, you saw Dean sitting there.

It wasn’t a surprise that Dean Winchester (saviour of the world, the perfect killer) was still awake, even after killing eight vamps single-handedly (but from how he was sitting, you were sure he’d hurt his back on the hunt). Dean. Again. In the kitchen. Not sleeping.

You didn’t know why, but it pissed you off more than it should have. 

“Why are you still up?” You asked, walking past the island to the cereal cupboard. No response. Of course. You rolled your eyes, fishing out the box of lucky charms you reserved for awful days. You caught Dean’s eye as you turned around to get a bowl. 

He might’ve been the strongest man you knew physically and mentally, but he looked so tired. More tired than you had ever seen him. More tired now than after ending the apocalypse or returning from purgatory. How could he look so exhausted after one vamp hunt? You thought about it for a second, only now realising how many times you had gotten up and he had been in the kitchen. Every time you got up, he was in the kitchen. What are the chances that when you can’t sleep, neither can he? Or was it more likely he wasn’t sleeping at all?

If you were being truthful, the strongest man you knew looked like hell. He looked like a little boy who couldn’t sleep because he had a nightmare and wanted his mom. Except he wasn’t a little boy, he was living through the nightmare and had no one to turn to when things got bad.

You had felt pity for Dean before (how could you not, the man has quite literally been to hell and back), but this was a different kind of pity. This was the kind of pity that only came when things were terrible. When you realise this was how it had to be, how it would be, forever. The kind of pity that came when you realised you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt useless looking at him in his dressing gown, hunched over the counter.

He was the world’s saviour, and you had to assume that came with consequences - like not sleeping.

You didn’t say anything. Your anger had dissipated into sadness - sadness for being unable to help your friend. There was nothing you could say or do. There was nothing at all. You stared at him, and he stared back, and that was it. You went about your night - pour the cereal, return to your room, and not sleep.

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

Another day. Another hunt. Another sleepless night.

You considered buying the strongest sleeping pills and calling it a day. But you knew you couldn’t. Dean would haul your ass out for another hunt tomorrow, and he’d be pissed if you were fast asleep.

‘He should take some sleeping pills’, you thought. Maybe he would actually be remotely okay then.

Not fall asleep, get up, walk to the kitchen, see Dean, not acknowledge each other, get your cereal and leave. Again and again. You may have liked it, though. Just that little bit of routine in your hectic lives. Even if it was a bad routine.

You poured your cereal, your back to Dean, in complete silence. It was nice. Comfortable.

You picked up your spoon, ready to head back to bed, and turned around to find Dean already looking at you. You paused on the spot, unsure as to why he was staring. He didn’t stop when you noticed him. He looked as tired as ever. The sight of him, looking exhausted, with a bowl of cereal and beer, was heartbreaking. It physically hurts to look at.

He looked at you, and you looked back. Silent. Again. You wish you knew what to say, but what could you say? ‘Hey, Dean. You look like shit.’ You were sure you looked just as bad.

The sudden eye contact didn’t end. You both are not blinking, not moving, simply just looking. It was like you were communicating telepathically, just understanding each other and the hell you were both going through. This life was bad enough with sleep.

He didn’t say anything when you moved to sit down next to him, he didn’t say anything when you began to eat your (soggy) cereal, and he didn’t say anything when you finished eating. He just drank his beer and ate his cereal wordlessly. He said nothing when you sat there for 5… 10… 15… 20 minutes. Not one word.

You wanted to know what was going on in his head so badly. You wanted to know how you could help if you could help. But Dean doesn’t share his problems. You knew that, Sam knew that Cas knew that- everybody in the damn world knew that.

You sat and sat and sat silently. Half an hour passed, then an hour, then two… before you knew it, Sam was walking in- tired and grumpy. The sun had risen (not that you could see it), and a new day had started.

“You look like shit, dude”, Dean said to Sam, who promptly rolled his eyes.

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

This time, when you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t go to the kitchen. You just laid there. Unmoving. You’re sleep-deprived mind was overthinking everything- what if you fucked up on that hunt 3 years ago, and Sam and Dean still hate you to this day? What if Sam hates you? What if Dean hates you? What if Dean is so fucking sick of you interrupting his nightly cereal time? You were a victim of your mind- your thoughts and inability to sleep. 

Ugh. You were so hungry. But, right now, your brain was convincing you you were single-handedly Dean’s biggest annoyance right now (if Dean could read your thoughts right now, he would be calling you his biggest idiot).

A knock on your door startled you more than it should’ve (considering you had been hunting for quite a while at this point).

A knock. At (you looked over to your alarm clock) 3:34am. ‘Why is Sam awake at this time? Why’s he knocking on my door?’ you thought. ‘It can’t be Dean. I’ve done nothing but piss him off for the last month. You squint your eyes preemptively as you reach over to turn on the lamp by your bed and get up. The floor was cold under your feet, and your body was exhausted from the lack of sleep. You reached towards the doorknob, preparing to see Sam. 

Sam. Who was definitely not at the door. Because Dean was standing there, in boxers and a white t-shirt, holding 2 bowls of cereal, looking as tired as you felt. Huh.

He looked at you silently, extending one bowl towards yourself. You took it hesitantly, staring at him, confused. He didn’t react. He didn’t say a word. Just lifted his bowl to eat his cereal. You moved to give Dean the option to come in. It was like a silent agreement had happened between you. Cereal and silence.

He walked in and sat on your bed; you closed your door and joined him. Wordless. Silent.

Maybe, you weren’t annoying him. Perhaps, he enjoyed this as much as you did. Maybe. Maybe.

Ten minutes passed, and you finished your cereal and leaned over to put it on the mahogany desk. ‘The Men of Letters enjoyed a frivolous life, huh. Who needs a mahogany desk?’ You thought, trying to distract yourself from your overactive mind. Dean moved over to do the same, leaning into you whilst he did. 

He didn’t seem to lean away from you after that. He didn’t seem to move at all. He just sat close as you both stared at the wall, unblinking. God, you were tired. You just wanted to sleep. You felt like your body was going to shut down any day now.

“You should get some sleep,” Dean’s groggy voice came out of nowhere. It surprised you, him actually talking. 

“Yeah, I’m trying,” you replied. Hell, you were trying. You were trying so hard, you just needed to-. Dean moved before you could finish your thought, standing up and moving to the top of the bed, pulling back the dishevelled sheets. He laid down in the bed, propping his head onto his hands.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

You moved to join him in the tiny twin bed. He pulled back the covers to let you in. You weren’t too sure what to do with yourself, then. You sat there with your knees to your chin, shoulders hunched. He had invited himself into your bed, and you felt like you were invading HIS space. Why were you still overthinking this? Why were you still thinking he didn’t want you here? Obviously, he did! 

His arm wrapped around your shoulders before you could think anymore. You looked over at him, his green eyes reflective in the lamplight, and he looked back at you. Wordless. You gave him a small smile and moved to lie down. He joined you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder. You debated whether you should lean against his chest but decided not to overthink it and just do it. You were sick of overthinking every little thing.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, yours wrapped around his. This was good. He was good. Nothing was exchanged between you; there wasn’t a need for words. You both knew this was what you two needed- each other. Dean had never really been alone (whether it was Sam, Cas, or Benny), and he needed somebody there to remind him that everything was okay. You were okay- sleep-deprived and needing a new career, but okay. 

Your eyes were shutting before you could help it. Dean’s steady heartbeat in your ear and arms around your body calmed you. It was almost funny how quickly you were falling asleep now. Months and months of sleepless nights, and all it took was Dean to be here, holding you. You wished you could enjoy it more (not knowing if this would happen again), but you were so goddamn tired. 

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

You awoke the following day to repeated knocks on your door and Sam’s voice shouting your name. Damnit Sam. He opened your door before you even had the chance to fully wake up.

“Have you seen Dea- oh.”

The man in question was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around you, your legs tangled together. You looked towards Sam as he mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ and left hurriedly. You were surprised it didn’t wake Dean. A pin drop could wake him up. You looked over at him, admiring how peaceful he looked. It was simple. Simple and nice and sort of domestic. Or as domestic as a hunter’s life can be.

You leaned against his chest, his arms tightening around you, falling back asleep.

You two had a different routine from then on- if either couldn’t sleep, you would find each other.

[wildgirllz]

this is super random thought that i had about Bucky, i shared it to people before but never put on asks/requests... so could you write something like this?

Imagine you getting a new roommate. Or should I say roommates because you did not expect Bucky would move in with certain adorable fluffball named Alpine. You don't mind though, you always wanted a pet but never had the chance to adopt any. And having Alpine around feels like she's your pet as well.

Your relationship with Bucky wasn't the best or the worst. It was neutral. Mostly because Bucky himself was quite reserved. He is either not at home (possibly in some sort of mission with Sam) or he's curling up with Alpine somewhere within the shared apartment. But that don't mean that y'all are not secretly pining for each other ;)

One day, you came back home from work to see Bucky pacing around anxiously. Turns out Alpine was missing, he can't find her anywhere. So they decided to went out to search for her.

You found Alpine first, she was being chased by an unleashed dog. Your poor baby was running for her life. Not thinking twice, you try to catch up with her and scoop her up to your chest before stumbling on the ground. You ended up hovering over the cat, protecting her from the feral dog. Indirectly getting yourself bitten/scratched on your shoulders, your back, any spot that was exposed to the dog. You were bleeding due to the unrestrained strength from the dog's attacks, but you mind was more concern of the cat in your arms.

When Bucky saw this. How you were literally sacrificing your body for Alpine; well he almost went full winter soldier mode. Like... no one touches "his girls". No one. But he managed to hold it back (cause we don't want to hurt the doggo) and of course, saves the day.

And the next following days were just how Bucky clings to you and do every little thing for you so you don't have to lift a finger when he's around.

You pull out your mug, he would take it from you and get your coffee done before you could stop him. You open the cabinet door in the storage room, he'd take the vaccum out before you could reach out to it. He made sure that your breakfast, lunch and dinner was on the dot; of course he was the chef of all the amazing dishes served to you.

It was nice and all at first but its not like you were paralyzed or something. And its been nearly 2 weeks. Your wounds were almost healed. You wanted to do something at least but apparently Bucky thinks that you needed rest.

So you kinda raised your tone, "i can't even make grab myself snack from the kitchen now? Whats next, Bucky? You'll bathe me? Or better yet you'll help me to get off? Cause god forbid I can't even turn on a fucking vibrator because I'm 'severely injured ' "

You were spouting all the things that you thought he wouldn't have the guts to do, just to make him stop doing literally everything for you. But turns out he was more than willing to do exactly what you just proposed.

Maybe he don't even need to use the vibrator. Maybe his fingers were enough, or his mouth, or his cock.

This is how I imagined it in my head, but feel free to write in your own way though! Have a nice day, love ♡

Girl look at that request 💀 you’re insane

Here you go!! <3

(I most definitely did not do your request justice im so sorry)

Let Me Do It Myself

It had been nearly two weeks since you saved Alpine from the unleashed dog, and Bucky had been hovering over you ever since. At first, it was nice to have someone taking care of you, but now it was starting to feel suffocating.

You were sitting on the couch, trying to work on your laptop, but Bucky kept interrupting you. Every time you tried to do something, he would jump up and do it for you. It was driving you crazy.

"Bucky, please," you said, exasperated. "I can get my own glass of water."

"I just want to help," he replied, looking at you with concern.

"I know, and I appreciate it, but I need to do things for myself. I'm not helpless."

Bucky looked at you for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand. But if you need anything, just ask."

You nodded, relieved that he seemed to be getting the message. But over the next few days, he continued to hover, always ready to jump up and do things for you. You were starting to feel like a burden.

One evening, you were making yourself a sandwich when Bucky walked into the kitchen.

"Let me do that," he said, reaching for the knife.

"No, Bucky," you said firmly. "I can make my own sandwich."

"I just want to help," he repeated.

"I know, but I need to do things for myself. I need to feel like I'm not completely helpless."

Bucky looked at you for a moment, then sighed. "Okay, I understand. But please be careful."

You rolled your eyes. "I will."

As the days passed, you tried to assert your independence, but it seemed like every time you did, Bucky was there to pick up the slack. You were starting to get frustrated.

Then, one day, you snapped.

"I can't even make grab myself snack from the kitchen now?" you said, your voice rising. "What's next, Bucky? You'll bathe me? Or better yet, you'll help me to get off? Because God forbid I can't even turn on a fucking stove because I'm 'severely injured.'"

Bucky looked at you, his expression unreadable. "Is that what you really think of me?"

The passion between them was palpable, the tension wrapping around them tight like a cord in the small bedroom. The thundering rain outside its windows provided the perfect background music for their highly charged moment.

Bucky Barnes had just crossed a line, pushing his luck with pushing the boundaries of her patience, and now he was paying the price. She was angry and she had every right to be. 

'You always do this,' she said, her voice tight with frustration. 'You always think that you know what's better for me than I know for myself.'

'No, I just,' he stumbled over his words, her anger turning him on. 'I don't want you to get hurt.'

She huffed in response, pushing his chest away from her and not even trying to hide her scowl. He stepped back and let his hands slide off of her body, feeling the loss of her warmth instantly.

She knew that her frustration was only turning him on more, which only made her angrier. She wanted to take control of the situation.

' You don't get to make decisions for me, Bucky,' she said, her voice softer this time around, though still firm with her assertion.

He swallowed, his throat actually running dry, his body responding in a way that only she could make it. He stepped closer to her, his hands sliding around her waist before he pulled her into him. 

She expected him to say something in response, not to take her in his arms and bring his lips down upon hers.

Their mouths moved together as if they had done this a million times, each stroke and caress of their lips only making them hungrier for more. His fingers ran up her back, squeezing her closer and further teasing her already sensitised skin.

The taste of him consumed her, making her forget why she was even angry with him in the first place. He let out a groan of satisfaction as her hands ran through his hair, both trying to deepen the kiss.

Finally when they did pull apart, both of them breathing heavily, their eyes connected, neither wanting to break the contact.

He leaned down again, his lips running down her neck, her moan vibrating through his body as he left a trail of gentle kisses. She arched into him as his tongue ran over her collarbone, his hands exploring her body as he moved lower. 

He groaned when his fingers touched her between her thighs and her body instantly reacted, pressing against him, desperate to feel the pleasure his hands were giving her.

He pulled back and looked at her, their eyes still connected as each of them tried to take the other in. His face was filled with admiration and appreciation as he said, 'You're so beautiful.'

He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her again as he lowered her onto the bed, his body following hers as her hips moved against his. For a moment, he paused, his lips still connected to hers, a question in his eyes, asking for her permission. 

Her eyes answered for her when she let out a soft moan, pushing herself against him even more, pressing his body into hers. 

He responded by pushing himself in, their bodies melting together as he started to move, his hips moments surging upward with each thrust. His hands still moved around her body, both bracing for the intensity of the pleasure, and caressing her soft curves, taking in the sensation of her body against his.

'God, you feel so good,' he said, his words barely audible over her moans of pleasure.

The intensity built as they moved together, each of them finding their release moments later, Bucky burying his face into her neck and calling out her name as his orgasm swept over them.

They laid there, their bodies still connected, until finally Bucky rolled off of her and laid on his back next to her. 

He reached over and gently brushed her hair away from her face, a satisfied smile gracing his face. He paused for a moment, just taking her in, before finally speaking.

'I'm sorry for trying to make decisions for you,' he said softly, regret laced into his voice. 'I just want to take care of you and make sure that nothing ever hurts you. I love you.'

“I love you so much, Bucky.”

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 4 thoughts

woohoo!! it feels, again, like our separation has been so long, but it has been about… 3 whole days. oh, how i miss the earlier months in which i had time to post episode thoughts every day… 

this episode sounds interesting!!! no idea how someone’s thoughts could be captured on film, but we do a lot of disbelief suspension around these parts, with varying levels of success.

wait. hold on. i just saw the description for the episode after this one. what the hell is mulder getting himself into with that. do we need more mulder ex lore? i don’t need that. it doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

putting aside my many questions on that matter to focus on what is here in front of us.

(author’s note post-episode: …. woaghhh. scully…)

in all honesty, having processed my thoughts, i think this one was just a LITTLE bit too intense for me. which i recognize is okay, and to each their own. but i need to speak my Truth.

liveblogging commences below 

we begin with this sketchy looking dude, who is being rude as hell to a woman putting on lipstick before getting a passport photo taken. god forbid a woman want to serve… then he says to act natural while not acting natural himself. HYPOCRITE!

she goes in for a passport photo and…. she left her money in the car! she must return to this unfortunate man and go get it. but someone is following her…. 

he did something to her… and she gets back to the car to “billy”, but someone did something to him, too!! he appears to be dead and bleeding from the ear!! then she falls to the ground and tries to crawl to safety, but the mystery man in the yellow rain jacket comes back for her…. 

and the man in the photo store looks at the passport photos, but despite taking just a standard headshot, he sees the woman’s dying face in the images!!

oh. that is an unpleasant day on the job for such a nice seeming man.

this intro always makes me laugh... i’m sorrrrryyy the ufo pictures just remind me that this show is fundamentally unserious 

scully and mulder are rolling up to a town in michigan, while he asks her for any thoughts on the case. it appears this woman was abducted three days ago. and billy was punctured in the brain. yuck.

okay, so her name is mary. and this poor pharmacist…. he has to take people’s pictures, and give them drugs, AND deal with this nonsense 

they are at the pharmacy where the “druggist” (they keep using that term which i have never heard before) is showing them his camera, which he keeps under lock and key, and i notice he has some fun candy in the background. but i assume things are not fun at this time for him. 

scully wants to see the camera, and mulder takes a step back to let her pass. it kinda looks like he does that thing where he touches her back, but it’s hard to tell. and once again for all readers, that thing where men touch your back is only attractive when it’s mulder to scully and not between some randos!

scully notices something on the pharmacist’s foot, and also that the film is out of date. she is always noticing things. one of her many lovely qualities. 

mulder calls the pharmacist “bruno hauptman” and i don’t get that reference so i do what i do best: go to wikipedia. oh! bruno is the guy that was executed for kidnapping the lindbergh baby. i don’t know why i thought that mystery was unsolved. i guess it’s because the article is saying it was a heavily criticized and debated case. huh, a mystery for another time.

anyway, mulder is saying this all tauntingly with his stupid beautiful mulder smile, but scully is saying yeah, this nice old pharmacist doesn’t look like a usual suspect.

but she does point out that the film has heat damage, and a heater is right there… “so you think that would make it look like she posed screaming for a passport photo?” <- LMAO MAN LET HER FINISH

BAHAHA she is onto nothing 🔥🔥 

“plus, the film is two years out of date” “oh” the- the photographic chemistry could have changed” (mulder nodding) “uh-huh” “the- the dyes fade… they… alright, what’s your theory?” <- BAHAHA love that… you have to admit when you don’t know wtf is going on! i had full confidence she would pull something out of her science-y brain, but sometimes you just don’t know!

(this stupid scene had me giggling, as did her face of resignation)

mulder seems to ALSO have no idea wtf is going on, but as they discuss this, a police officer walks in and says they might have wasted the agents’ time…. what does that mean? did they figure it out that quick?

back at the house of the victims, they meet a postal inspector. okay!!! that’s fun and different. and i pause to write this down, and scully is SO beautiful, i actually might blow up. a full on explosion where once stood me is liable to go down. oh my gooooood.

okay: postal inspector is investigating a mail theft. mary had been working at the postal office, stealing people’s credit cards, and her boyfriend was signing them! oh! very illegal. inspector seems to think she faked her disappearance, but mulder points out that would not explain the stabbing of the boyfriend. also, they have this creepy ass broccoli magnet on their fridge which. bleugh. it did not spark joy.

mulder wants a camera from their house, and he finds one! did he just. take a picture of scully…? oh my god. he said “stand back, scully, it’s loaded” and took one… he didn’t even let her pose or anything… that's so cute... even if it's a little weird to use a dead person's camera from a crime scene... he wanted to take her picture

no, i am all wrong, for it appears he is just… taking random photos. because someone in the 60’s once claimed that he could concentrate really hard on undeveloped film and show his thoughts. uh. press f to doubt.

(man, i want to live in that very brief and exciting moment where i thought he was taking a cute little candid of her again… it was so blissful there)

wait. what da hell. he just clicked the camera a bunch of times and it comes up with the screaming mary photo again and again.

oh… he thinks that someone was stalking mary, and the stalker’s psychic energy altered the film by him coming in its proximity. i didn't realize that was how psychic powers worked but i am listening and learning

scully says that these images had to be doctored, which is, again, a reasonable conclusion, but he asks her to “what if” the situation and just think about it!!! just imagine!!!

cutscene to… someone crawling on the side of the road. it’s mary!!! she’s bleeding from her eyes (?) and not responding at all to the police car arriving behind her.

now she is in a stretcher at the hospital that our agents are helping to steer. they are kind like that. she had a “painkiller cocktail” in her system, but that wouldn’t account for her condition. scully orders a PET scan for her, a term i have never heard before. i love when she uses terms i have never heard before.

they’re putting mary in what looks like an MRI sort of thing to look at her brain. whatever it is, it is clearly very bad, as told by scully’s visible reaction and audible declaration of “oh my god”, while mulder looks at her and asks “what is it”? 

(and while i appreciate that this is a sensitive moment for our story, mulder not knowing wtf is going on with these medical things always is a favorite trope of mine, 1. because me too, and 2. he is usually such an insufferable know-it-all i love watching him admit when he knows nothing. humility!)

oh my god… “she has been given what’s called a transorbital lobotomy” <- oh that does NOT sound good… it used to be known as an ice pick lobotomy!!! oh my gosh i’ve heard of that one!! ice pick… eye sockets… i can feel myself growing faint…

but whoever did it, did it wrong… who would do a lobotomy without knowing how to do it the right way???

in the machine, mary is mumbling!! she is saying “unruhe” according to the closed captioning, but it just sounds like faint groaning to me. however, given that this phrase is the title of the episode, i venture to guess that it IS in fact relevant.

a policeman bursts in and says there has been a second abduction, and our agents look deeply sorrowful at this news, seeming to know what will happen next if they cannot crack the case.

oh! now we are seeing the new victim, and whoever took her is in fact saying “unruhe”, and other stuff in german! NO! he pulls out a pick…. fade to black. 

WHO in this small seeming town speaks german and has a psychic effect on cameras… ?? i hope this can be narrowed down to a slim pool of candidates!!

scully is going into the next crime scene, where mulder reports that a man has been murdered, and his secretary alice taken. this is not good.

mulder has been looking into what that word alice was mumbling means- first in a phone book, but then as a translation, i guess, because it means “trouble” in german.

WOAH, WHAT?

! SCULLY LORE REVEAL ! she took german in college!!! and knows that the word is more accurately translated as “unrest”! 

(oh my gosh, i need to get back into compiling lore reveals at the end of each season like i did for s1…. good thing i take such detailed notes so i can go back and do them for s2 and s3)

((we didn’t get a ton in the last 2 seasons, so i thought of doing one post for both seasons- but the organization freak in me wants to do 1 per season, so i’ll go through them again and see what i can find when i get bored someday))

scully hands him a photo from the first crime scene, but mulder says the criminal wasn’t there, because if he was, he would have altered the photos. scully seems annoyed that he’s looking for psychic photos and not crime scene evidence, but he explains that whoever did this has to be very good, and photos may be their only lead since he doesn’t seem to know he is doing it. but then scully sees something and her eyes go SUPER wide… and she says she wants to show him something. 

oh! they find a construction company’s logo at both sites. so maybe the criminal worked at places under construction and was able to kidnap the women…? this theory is brought to you by scully.

he says she might be right, but he is going back to DC to get analysis on the photo. she still is skeptical, but he says that since the woman’s time is running out, that’s all the more reason to analyze the one piece of hard evidence they do have, and that he’ll be in touch. 

he must have really cared if he said he’ll be in touch, because usually he just runs off to god knows where to do god knows what. 

(and how much time would they even HAVE if he has to drive all the way back??? that isn’t a quick trip, is it???)

the same criminal dude from before is now saying stuff in german and taping alice’s mouth shut, while mulder is back in the photo lab sitting practically on top of this nerdy yet attractive fellow, asking for the blurriness in the image to be reduced. and it reveals very scary looking demon things! 

mulder sees someone in the back of the photo… and they get a more enhanced image on the face, but it isn’t clear to me who it is. i felt like i was supposed to know who it was, but luckily i wasn't!

scully is ordering people out to canvas and investigate the employees who may have been working at both construction sites. i like when she does that.

mulder and the lab guy figure out that there is a shadow in the background of the photo from the kidnapper. “he’s standing over her, he means to pass judgement on her, like a god” <- an unsettling thing to say, mr. spooky

scully rolls up to one of the construction sites and i’m thinking, oh please, do not get kidnapped, please please, it’s not something we need today. she’s yelling “hello” and no one is answering... but she hears something….. 

it’s a… guy on stilts? it’s the foreman named gerry. oh… could he have made the big shadow in the picture his stilts? but he doesn’t sound german…

mulder calls and says the kidnapper’s legs are unusual, either he’s very tall or he wants to be. stilts man?!?! is it you?!

instead of playing it chill upon hearing this news, she hangs up on mulder, and turns to gerry and says “unruhe”, pulling out her gun. but he uses his stilts to jump across the building! only to collapse and fall. his getaway is thwarted as scully tells him to stop or she’ll shoot, and to prove her seriousness, she does so. but i’m not buying he’s the guy!! sorry my queen!!

NO!! I WAS FOOLED, WASN’T I??? she reaches into his pocket and pricks her finger!!! NOOO! it’s a huge pick in there! like we saw before at the kidnapping!!

is she gonna be drugged from that….

(thankfully, the pick itself did not contain the drugs)

they’re interrogating the dude, and he denies everything. i mean, i guess a lot of people could have stilts and a pick at construction sites. maybe they didn't grab the right fellow.

he says that tool is used to start keyholes in the sheetrock and all fixtures. a good excuse…

but he really does seem confused. 

however, mulder brings up that gerry was arrested before, for attacking his father with an axe handle until he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. OH! this is not promising.

gerry says that he was institutionalized, which mulder reveals was for a schizophrenic disorder. gerry claims that since his release, he had been taking care of his father 24/7, until he passed away in january. well i’m not entirely sure if that makes amends, but i guess it’s better than nothing?

“and how did you feel about that?” asks mulder about gerry's father's death, sounding very much like the psychology expert i sometimes forget that he is. then he reveals that the same year gerry attacked his father, gerry’s sister passed. connected….?

gerry is staring intently back at scully, saying that she looks troubled. oh! do not talk to her that way.

then mulder comes in with the enhanced photo from earlier, and asks if it shows gerry’s father. he seems taken aback, like it really is his father, and then further taken aback when he pulls out the full photo and asks if those demons figures are what he sees when he closes his eyes. this finally gets gerry to crack and say that he knows where alice is, and that she is safe, “from the howlers”. HUH? 

(is it bad my thoughts went straight to a howler monkey when he said that? i was thinking man, monkeys do not look like that at all. you and i have seen some different monkeys, gerry. but no, he does not refer to those types of howlers)

a ton of cop cars are arriving in the woods, to find alice, who is bleeding from the eyes, which can only mean one thing in this context. oh noooo. scully seems horrified and as if she is blaming herself 

oh, we get a very charged exchange here. she says it doesn’t matter what is in the photos, or if it shows gerry’s dreams or nightmares, because it’s over, and they couldn’t save alice. she starts the engine, and when i think she’s gonna drive off without mulder, he hops in. i bet that guilt that doctors feel when that cannot save a patient is even worse in her than in usual doctors, because she also has to deal with trying to rescue people from crime. :(

gerry is being taken in and photographed by the cops. but instead of a mugshot, when we see the picture, it’s the guy who was taking him in with a bullet hole in his head. oh! so that seems to confirm earlier suspicions on behalf of mulder. 

OH NO!! gerry reaches out and grabs the gun from the cop! NOOO! 

mulder points out that the image from that interaction showed the man shot in the head, but in reality, he was shot in his throat. so i guess it’s not based on reality as much as his intentions? sure, why not. and scully says there was a robbery at the pharmacy back where the very first photo was taken. no! our druggist friend!

gerry took all of the film in the store and a ton of drugs for more “twilight sleep”, which is a bad sign. i think i’ve seen this film before…

scully thinks that perhaps he was stalking his next victim at the construction site, and i’m thinking, girl i think he picked out his victim alright, but i don’t think she’s in the apartments.

mulder wants to wait a bit for his photo to come out. so he sends her to pull the car around and i’m screaming NO, NO, DON’T SEPARATE, NOT WITH A GUY ON THE LOOSE WHO LOOKED AT HER AND SAID “YOU LOOK TROUBLED” AFTER DOING 2 DIY LOBOTOMIES ON OTHER WOMEN AND KILLING 2 OTHER MEN! JUST WAIT A MINUTE AND WALK TO THE CAR TOGETHER!!!

but she cannot hear me….

NO! as she unlocks the car, a hand from beneath reaches out and pierces her foot with a needle NOOOO… and it’s gerry and she’s going down and NOOOOOO!!!!

AND MULDER PULLS THE PHOTO OUT TO FIND GERRY WAS THINKING OF SCULLY WHEN IT WAS TAKEN!

he is RUNNING after that car. despite his best efforts, even trackstar mulder is not as fast as a car, yet he follows her and screams her name regardless. until he realizes he will not win this race.

back at the police office, mulder is STARING at that photograph, the one showing scully being taken by these horrific creatures known as “the howlers”. he’s asking for any leads, including “does he have a summer house? a winter house?” which could be seen as desperation for answers or mulder being out of touch with how many people grew up with summer houses, take your pick.

OH! in gerry’s wallet was his father’s obituary. and his father was a dentist… and the name sounds german… 

so they go to his old dentist’s office, where they did an ad for the pain medicine cocktail he’s been cooking up. and mulder finds a footprint and a missing dentist’s chair. 

NO!! scully is in the dentist’s chair at some undisclosed location. waking up to find her arms and legs bound with a pick on the table and gerry in the distance. she’s watching him…. and she says to let her go. 

he begins his german ranting that has happened before the other lobotomies, and she… RESPONDS???? in clumsy german??? she says she has no unrest and doesn’t need saving, but he insists she does??? WHAT!!!

good on her for remembering some words after all those years :,)

he says everyone has some unrest, but especially her. she thinks she must remind him of his sister, and they talk about “the howlers”, who live inside your head, and make you say and do things you don’t mean.

so she turns the tables on this, and says maybe there are no such thing as howlers, and maybe he made them up to justify what his father did to his sister, which sets him off further. OH… so she thinks gerry attacking his father and his sister’s death were related. damn… that’s heavy

she tries to convince him that the “howlers” are just in HIS head, and no one else’s, as he approaches with a camera to try and prove they do exist. because cameras cannot lie!!

back at the dentist’s office, mulder appears to be losing it. mumbling about the 6 fingers the howler had in the photos, and yelling “WHY are there 6?” to no one in particular, as if he can find an answer through sheer willpower. one of the cops is asking him what to do while he looks at the obituary and counts five headstones…. and the father makes 6? sure, if that makes sense to you king!

they’re off to the graveyard while scully is still in a mystery location, with tears in her eyes as gerry shows her the photos he took. he takes the photos to mean he doesn’t have much time left, and tapes her mouth… and oh my gosh, i think of what would go down here if i knew she wasn’t gonna pull through… until gerry hears a tapping and MULDER IS LOOKING IN!! YES!!!

gerry is doing this in a camper van! by the graveyard!!! mulder is peeking in, sees a tooth keychain, and realizes she’s in there!!!! he’s yelling her name, and she’s yelling that she’s in here, while gerry tries to hold her down!!!

mulder’s BEATING on the window of the camper with his hands, and when that doesn’t work, he finds a giant metal pipe and SLAMS it into the window, goes in, and shoots gerry. this escalated quickly, but it was almost not quick enough.

mulder asks if she’s hurt, and neither of them say anything as she walks out, with mulder kneeling down to see that the last photos gerry had taken were of himself dead on the floor. it’s a terribly thick tension that reminds me of the ending to irresistible, but without the tension bursting like it did in that episode with her finally revealing her fear to him. i wish that she did it again this time. 

scully is doing the episode wrap up, sounding terribly solemn. she is reporting that gerry had written a diary intended as a letter for his father, including the list of the women he hoped to “save”. and her name is the last entry. she has no explanation for the photographs. but she empathized with him, which her survival depended upon.

“i see now the value of such insight. for truly to pursue monsters, we must understand them. we must venture into their minds. only in doing so, do we risk letting them venture into ours?” (said while there are tears in her eyes, as she looks at the photograph of her being pulled by the howlers)

WHAT THE HELL.

okay, so chris carter… you and i need to have some words. 

i have a lot of thoughts. perhaps number one: what if mulder had been 5 minutes later… can you imagine him never being able to cope with that….? oh my gosh. oh my gosh. no, i shan’t imagine. but i’m sure they both were imagining it. and that is probably why she couldn’t say anything as she walked out of the camper van. it was too horrific.

second. this was a dark one. i was giggling at first and then it got really dark. lobotomies… are a hard subject.

third. when the writers make the bad guy have a mental illness, i do feel it to be insulting, because we don’t often get a character where a guy with schizophrenia is just a guy doing normal things like working at the store or going to get his oil changed. no, he’s gotta be up to something nefarious. i wish that wasn’t the case and that these episodes didn’t use mental illness in that way, and i understand that things were kind of Like That in the 90’s and arguably still are in media, but it has been observed with distaste. 

okay, final thoughts? like i’ve said before, i believe in gender equality when it comes to kidnapping and rescuing, and i hope that will be evened out at some point. i understand that gerry had a fixation on women for his own personal reasons, but that’s the doyleist vs watsonian debate thing. and i want a 1:1 ratio on who goes about saving the day. although the ratio was uneven in s2, i’m not recalling the ratio from s3, and we’re 4 episodes into s4 with a 1:1 ratio. so i hope that overall, the entire series ratio evens out eventually. damsel in distress is gender neutral

i was actually really invested in this episode, probably because it let us look into scully deeper, and also because the stakes were high, the pacing fast, and the horror a new kind rather than a standard serial killer we get in a lot of episodes. 

but… while i appreciate that, i’m not sure i can say i enjoyed it, you know? because even a “scully speaks german” lore reveal cannot save me from the feeling of… something adjacent to fear? not horror as in “ahhh i’m so scared” but maybe a sort of horror as in “stop putting her into these fuckass situations, let my girl have a day off” and also a bit of terrible grief in knowing that lobotomies were a very real thing and did untold harm. and to be clear, i’m not saying that fact shouldn’t be explored and discussed, i just think that for me it seems to provoke some intense feelings that make me want some fluff. now. 

deliver it. to my door. as we speak. in fact, here is an incomplete list of things i want to read our agents doing in fanfiction form:

apple picking and apple cider sipping, hiking and sharing weird facts they know about the things they encounter (scully will be all “this type of spider has a unique silk production gland” and he’ll be all “this type of wildflower is used to induce hallucinogenic states” while they look at a pretty view), ice skating (can they ice skate? need to explore that), getting ice cream cones, a visit to the beach, decorating for various holidays, a very serious game night- perhaps uno or some sort of trivia where it turns into a real nerd-off, arguing over unsolved mysteries, more implications of them starting a family together if you feel bold and brave, even, but for those who like it more reserved we can just have an aquarium date, watching a meteor shower, scully attempting to understand his fascination with the various sports of the world by tagging along on an anthropological expedition to a knicks game with him, baking, movie theater trip, etc

well! i have gotten myself so enthused at the idea of them doing silly stuff like handing out halloween candy that i have forgotten all about my initial feelings, which shall surely resurface soon when i go through and edit my notes, but you’re gonna sit there and tell me you don’t want to play dolls in your head of them getting hot chocolate together? 

canon? what is canon? c’mere, kid. let’s daydream about them eloping without ever having the “what are we” conversation and ignore the suffering 

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 2

Propaganda Under Cut

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime.

Nancy Wheeler

A lot of fics will make her the “bad guy” to help push their ship of Steve/whichever guy they’re pairing him with. Nancy deserves better than that she is a great character with a lot of depth. While she and Steve don’t have to be besties I hate it when they turn her into some homophobic or bitchy ex just there to propel the story 

Poor girl can't get a break ever

I got back into ST right after S4 came out, and I almost stepped out bc of how rude people were being to Nancy. She was called a bitch for dumping Steve (which was 2 years ago in canon and 6 years irl???) and she was blamed for Steddie (and in at least 1 post, harringgroove, which ugh) not getting together. Basically she got a lot of uncalled for hate for existing, because how dare she be so stubborn and get in Steve and the other characters way!

[lumiambrose]

Blue lock matchup for @hidden-oracle

I ship you with…

Rin Itoshi

hear me out hear me out… while rin could rock the extrovert x introvert trope, i think introvert x introvert suits him much better.

mans does not need someone as loud as shidou shouting in his ear 24/7. which is why he loves you so much. you guys definitely match each others energy; quiet, attentive and passionate.

honestly, i think rin would be completely fine with your autism and anxiety. he certainly understands that different people have different difficulties and stuff that they’re going through so he’s very understanding.

althoughhhh you gotta give this guy some time to adapt. rin has only had rivals in his life so he’s like a lost kitten when it comes to comforting a friend, or better yet, a lover.

rin is a good learner though. give him some time and communicate a bit and he’ll have it down quickly. need a hug? he’ll definitely pretend to hate it but he could hug you for hours. want to go home? he’s already called an uber.

basically rin is the perfect boyfriend.

but this guy has his own issues too. poor boy is still scarred from his brother so him opening up to you could take a while.

he’s never had anyone to hold so close to him. but once he’s able to open up to you? this man wouldn’t leave you for the world. especially knowing you’re just as scared as him.

oh and his hugs? the best. now in public he won’t hug you, but god he loves it when you hug him. like yes, show everyone how good you two look together.

he’ll definitely pretend to hate it for the first few seconds but you swear it looks like he’s sulking if you try to pull away.

hold his arm while you two are walking together. he loves it.

and in private? my god he matches your energy 100%. he will not leave your side. being alone together is the only time you’ll ever wonder if he’s more touchy than you.

honestly, you two don’t even need to be talking to each other. your presence is enough for rin.

while mans definitely loves to spoil you and take you out on nice dates, sitting on the couch together while you read and he analyzes his matches is almost just as good for him.

now as to how you two even got together? i’d say you met at a cafe. it was a busy day and as there was no space left other than on your table, so he sat there.

now none of you actually said something (god forbid human conversation). althoughhh you thought he was pretty enough to sketch and spent your time drawing him.

of course he noticed (he didn’t seem to mind it) and before he left he scribbled his phone number on your sketchbook and asked you to send him pictures of your sketches.

and that’s how a cute ass couple is born.

he reacts the same to your chaotic behavior as he does with pda. he pretends to hate it. he really tries. but alas he can’t hide the smile that pierces his lips.

the fact that you can keep him on his toes and keep things interesting has him in awe.

horror movie marathons. he loves horror. you love horror. you at least spend one evening per week binging your favorite scary movies.

he’ll also play horror games with you if you ask nice enough :p

personal favorite of mine but the HEIGHT DIFFERENCE? ugh… i love it.

5’1 and 6’1? yes. he’s over a head taller than you and thinks it’s hilarious.

definitely puts stuff on the top shelf so you have to call him to get it for you

as you said you’re quite observant. rin definitely values your opinion on his plays and matches. even if you don’t know much about football, he’ll take your words into account and discuss them with you.

sometimes after his matches, you two will sit together on the couch with some popcorn and analyze the match together. (peak quality time)

i may have written quite a lot for this one… :p

what can i say? i really enjoyed writing your matchup. i hope you like it! <3

[podcastenthusiast]

Three little drabbles featuring Geralt "Horse Girl" of Rivia and different animals, from Jaskier's POV.

---

1. Horse

Jaskier realized it a few weeks into this new witcher-following, song-composing venture. Specifically, when he went to eat the last apple and was told in no uncertain terms that it's for Roach, even though their food rations were running worringly low and they were a day's ride from the next village. Even though he's a fragile human. Even though she could literally just eat grass.

The mare outranked him. She had seniority.

He tried to befriend the horse, with middling success.

He tried to befriend the witcher, too.

At least Roach could be bribed with a carrot or a handful of raisins.

People project a lot of their own feelings onto animals, he supposed. It's a relationship designed to be unequal. As complex or as simple as a person wants it to be.

For a while, he had started to resent her a little, as pathetic as that may sound. That is, until he woke in the middle of the night and overheard a murmured, rather one-sided conversation.

"I worry about him, though," Geralt was saying. "Can't exactly just find a new bard and start calling him Jaskier if something happens, can I."

What?

"Wish he'd shut up sometimes, but... I guess it's been kind of nice having someone around who talks back."

Jaskier's heart felt like it might burst or break. Or both.

"Not that you aren't good company, old girl."

Roach gave a quiet snort.

That was all years ago, now. The horse is different, but still somehow Roach.

He is different, too, but somehow still Jaskier. Still the reliable bard his friend needs him to be.

Now, he watches from his spot by the campfire as Geralt brushes through Roach's mane. The witcher's got drowner brains in his own hair but gods forbid he has a wash before his trusty companion is completely tended to. He's very gentle with her, which is probably why she tolerates it as well as she does. He's heard tales of stablehands losing fingers to routine grooming before.

Jaskier wishes he could write a ballad about this without potentially damaging his fearsome reputation-- the unbreakable bond between a witcher and his horse. The unexpected tenderness of hands made to kill.

He reaches for his quill to jot down a few ideas. Something something the mighty wolf and the wild horse, loyal and brave companions defending their forest home together. Keep it vague enough. Maybe a folktale vibe.

Besides, Jaskier thinks with a touch of bitterness, the wolf's tongue is the real danger. His jaws that snap at anyone foolish enough to get too close, to offer help when he's caught in a trap.

...Maybe he still has some feelings to work through.

The wolf also has a heart he tries so hard to bury. Jaskier can see it. Always has.

"You spoil her rotten, you know," he remarks lightly, plucking on his lute strings. "She eats better than we do."

"It's like sharpening my swords. I have to keep Roach in good condition, or we don't eat at all."

"Mhm. And it's very sweet."

He no longer begrudges Roach her well-earned place at Geralt's side. The witcher had been alone out here for such a long time before he came along, probably will be again after he's dead and buried. Even if Jaskier does wish that he could be the one Geralt trusts with his innermost thoughts and secrets and sleepless night fears, he is glad the man has someone in whom he can confide.

They all have their roles in this story. Perhaps he ought to accept his as its scribe, and let that be enough.

But Jaskier's greatest fault, he knows, is an always has been his refusal to accept things as they are.

-

2. Cat

"Oh, look at that. Someone's cat has gone missing. Poor thing."

"We're here for real work, Jaskier," Geralt says, scanning a contract notice. Recent plague. Graves disturbed. Ghouls. See alderman for details. Bit dull.

"They're offering a reward. See?"

"Somehow I doubt a small child has enough coin to justify ignoring the ghouls."

"Says here you'll get their eternal gratitude and-- oh! The lady of the house will darn your socks free of charge for a full year. Any additional mending at a discount. Now that's a good deal."

"Hm."

"Geralt, as you know my favorite doublet is in a sorry state after that minor werewolf incident--"

"I told you to stay with Roach."

"--All water under the bridge now, of course, and what an adventure! Worthy of a fine ballad--"

"Jaskier."

"--as this would be. Can't you at least keep one keen witchery eye out for the cat?"

"And risk a ghoul catching me off guard? Sure."

"Well, now you're just being silly. Don't tell me you're a dog person. Or are you allergic?"

Geralt sighs, realizing now that only the truth will free him from this conversation.

"Don't mind cats," he mutters. "But they don't like me."

"Sorry, what?"

"Cats don't like me," he repeats. "They start hissing whenever I get too close."

Jaskier's expression is caught somewhere between disbelief and sadness. "Why?"

"I insulted their king. Why do you think? They've got more sense than certain humans, I guess."

It's a veiled remark. Jaskier sees right through it.

"You're not a monster, Geralt," he says, achingly sincere. Then, in a lighter tone, "Does that mean you've never pet a cat before?"

"I don't know. Maybe when I was very young. I can't remember."

Jaskier mercifully drops the subject after a quiet and thoughtful walk back to the village's tavern.

He doesn't fail to notice Geralt buying extra scraps of meat from the innkeeper, or how he sneaks away at night to set them like snares in promising locations near the village. He'd probably say it's for the ghoul contract if asked, but Jaskier knows better.

Even if he didn't, there is really no other explanation for Geralt returning to the inn on the second night, covered in claw marks, carrying a ghoul's severed head in one hand and a bag containing one squirming, hissing feline in the other.

-

3. Spider

"GERALT!"

Every witcher in Kaer Morhen hears the bard's scream, but Geralt reaches the room in moments, his silver sword already drawn.

"Jaskier, what--"

"Kill it!"

The bard is standing on his bed, pointing frantically at something. Geralt follows his panicked gaze and sees--

"Really, Jaskier?" He sighs.

"What are you waiting for? It's a monster! Kill it!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's not a monster. Just a spider. Not even poisonous."

"How do you know?"

"I read." Geralt crouches down for a closer look at the spider. "Might look scary but it's harmless. Probably sought shelter from the cold."

"Well, then it can go right back outside."

"Jaskier, be reasonable."

"I am. Either the spider goes or I do."

The witcher looks thoughtful. Says nothing.

"Oh, thanks, Geralt! I feel so loved."

The spider crawls onto Geralt's hand and Jaskier almost screams again, shrinking back even farther. Gods, it has so many legs!

"Pretend it's a kikimora or something," he pleads. "Why won't you kill one little spider for your very dearest old friend in the world?"

"Because kikimoras have no niche. They're invasive, and need to be dealt with to maintain balance in the ecosystem. Spiders aren't like that; they do belong. A monster, fundamentally, is any creature that doesn't."

Jaskier just stares at him, speechless. He's not sure he has ever heard Geralt say that many words all at once.

Geralt's eyes remain on the spider. "Witchers aren't sent out on the Path not knowing why we kill; we're not soldiers."

"I never thought of it like that," Jaskier admits. "That spider's still fucking terrifying, though."

"Hm. I'll take it outside."

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"I know what scared, stupid people say about witchers sometimes. But I-- You do belong. You're important. Just want you to know that."

"...Thank you, Jaskier," he says. Then, quieter, "You too."

[sol-consort]

Hopping onto First/solo human on the ship idea and just, everyone on the crew has been wary of the Prothean ever since they joined the crew a year or so ago. Always had this air of superiority about them when talking to anyone, always acting like their so much better than everyone (they only stay on the damn team because they are good at what they do) only to watch with jaws agape as the Prothean just melts around the new human in the team. Chatting with them, even letting them hug them when they want and God forbid, even gushing to the rest of the team about the human just doing the bare minimum of their job.

Or something 💦

Protheans and their emotional support humans are a classic

They keep bringing up the other species embarrassing history, reminding the salarian that his people used to lick their own eyeballs, talking to the asari how her kind owe everything they have achieved to protheans uplifting them, they're practically a god to her people so she should learn her place.

One thing about them is that they rarely, if ever, addresses the crew members by name, constantly adding their species at the end as if it's a suffixe. Maybe it was common during the prothean times? Being at the top of the hierarchy, protheans just had to remind the other species of where they stood all the time.

Dealing with the prothean was just part of the job at this point. No one liked it–maybe except the hanar–but no one could refute how useful they were.

Luckily, the prothean saw all of the crew unfit for socialising with, resulting in them keeping to themselves most of the time unless prompted or on a mission. They are....very intimidating, even as they sat quietly at the end of the couch during movies night, not saying a thing but silently judging everyone in the room, making the air temperature drop several degrees, the asari straightening her back, the salarian nervously fidgeting with the remote, the turian's raised talons twitching on occasion.

When you—a lovely human with curious eyes—joined the ship, the crew would be lying if they said they didn't worry about your invetabile meeting with the prothean.

They've heard your kind tend to have fragile egos, easily tugged heartstrings. There is a reason the "loudest human in a room" has quickly become a cliche stereotype spread through the galaxy. When something roars, rather than shut up, humans roar back ever louder. The first contact war is evidence enough of the whole "eye for an eye" human believe.

The prothean leaving would be devastating—especially with how scarce their kind is. Only a few hundred intact pods managed to be unearthed ever since Javik's whole revel to the public. But the crew simply couldn't stand and watch a poor human get their dreams crushed! What kind of advanced civilisation would they be if they didn't look out for the newest addition to the galactic court?

They took turns to watch over you, keep you away from the prothean as much as possible. Diverting your attention whenever you'd ask about them, adjusting the schedules so you and the prothean never meet.

And they almost succeed...or so they thought. Until several months later, the salarian came into the kitchen to acquire more of this "coffee" you've brought with you to the ship–a drink he's grown very fond of–only to hear a high pitched sound coming from inside the kitchen?

Oh! yes, human laughter! He is delighted you're having a nice time, but who could you possibly be with at such an hour when you're supposed to be asleep.

Nothing in the world could've ever prepared him to see the prothean towering figure, in an apron, standing next to you. A damp cloth in your hand as you carefully wiped the white powder from their face, an opened bag of flour next to where you were sitting on the kitchen table, a bowl with pancake mixture to its right.

You were giggling while offering lighy-hearted apologises, claiming you didn't mean for the flour bag to explode when you opened it with a little too much force.

The strangest thing in this whole situation was the prothean's relaxed expression. The salarian has seen them angry and frustrated before, trust him it's not a pretty sight.

Yet the prothean he's looking at was placid at your casual attitude and touches, serene almost. If anything...and if the salarian research proved fruitfull, the prothean physical cues indicate...happiness.

The salarian didn't stay hidden for long, courtesy of the prothean 4 eyes providing a wide peripheral vision.

The prothean seemed agitated at the uninvited guest, making him feel as if he was intruding on their privacy rather than using the communal kitchen.

...Maybe the salarian can just make his coffee later, yeah.

-

What the alien crew was unaware of is that you've met the prothean ever since the first day on the ship. They unpromptly came into your room just as you finished unpacking.

It was a little awkward at first, making space for themselves at the end of your bed, almost cornering you against the headboard, their intense gaze focused on you, asking to touch you—explaining it's to read your emotions.

But hey, you came into an alien ship willingly; you knew what you were signing up to. What's a little alien weirdness if nothing out of the ordinary?

They visit you every day at night, not much of a talker but occasionally inquiring about your species progress. About the sports, the arts, and music. Asking about your interests, sitting beside you as they observe you play videogames or indulge in your bobbies.

Asking to listen to human music, curiously going through your personal items, attempting to read the history embedded within each one.

Getting you more and more used with their skinship until you're comfortable enough to sit on their lap, back leaning against their chest.

Subtly training you to seek their lap out of your volition by making it the most comfortable seat around. The way they enjoy feeling the texture of your hair, gently massaging your scalp, fingertips moving in small circular motions.

You've very quickly become their source of relief. The prothean picking you up from whatever you were doing—much like one would pick a cat in their arms—before taking you to their private quarters.

Venting to you about these "annoying primitves" who keep failing to meet their expectations. Petting your hair as you cuddle against them, half listening, half scrolling through your phone.

It's become a routine at this point. You've been going to sleep in their embrace more than your own bed as of lately.

Disregarding all the things you've read and heard about protheans being hostile and cold. Sure, they might have a slight superiority complex, but they way their eye colour hue shift when you pepper their face with kisses is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

They let you trace the markings on their skin, ones that looks like maps of galaxies and supernovas, you've voiced that thought to them and they seemed at a loss for words, downplaying how much it effected them yet you've noticed them admire their skin in the mirror afterwards, a thoughtful look in their eyes.

Enjoys listening to you talk, no matter the subject. It's like the sound of your voice alone puts them at ease, your laughter akin to music in their ears.

Finding it extremely adorable when you yawn or sneeze, even stretching your arms or body is enough to get their lip corners to curl upwards.

They like spending time with you through all of your emotional stages, be it positive or negative. With a simple touch, they're able to experience your entire day, cupping your face peering into your mind.

It's comforting in a way, knowing at least they fully understand. You don't have to use words or fear being judged, despite all of their long speeches about emotions being a weakness to the other aliens, not once did the prothean shame you for yours.

The prothean seems to know your body better than you at times, as if information about humans and which spots are the most sore/hardest for us to reach is common knowledge to their kind.

They're keen on befriending you, despite their grumpy attitude and seemingly harsh demnour. They literally melt once you hug their arm.

Your mere existence is endearing to them. You might not be aware of it, but ever since you've joined this crew, you've drastically imporved the quality of their life. Living on this ship away from their own kind, surrounded by primitive weaklings, became much more tolerable ever since you arrived.

One time, you swore you heard a slight clicking sound coming from them as your head laid against their chest, resembling purring in a way.

Blatantly playing favourites without shame. Letting you get away with occasions of being a lousy roommate while they treat it as treason if any of the other aline attempted to neglect their chores. Praising you for doing the bare minimum at times.

And to think their kind used to observe humans from mars all those millions of years ago, they themselves remember clearly following the progress of your species, the article that went viral amidst all ranks once humans finally discovered fire.

The prothean is really glad your species is still around, if nothing else, you don't seem to have changed much which is a delight. The one remnant of the past that helps soothe their worries away, that this universe wasn't robbed from all the beauty yet.

That at least one species didn't disappoint them... they held so much expectations for the asari, even the salarians somehow fell in comparison to their ancestors' legacy.

Yet you, humans, you managed to survive, to thrive in this world especially designed to kill you. Earth was a cradle, a utopia, it had one in a trillion chance of existence. Coddled by the rest of your plants, protected from everything and with the most diverse fauna and rich flora.

Not a single one of them thought you'd ever make it to mars, that's why they never bothered to cover their traces or hide the technology they left there.

You were beautiful creatures...to see you come into your own clever beings is a refreshing sight.

[thewritingcoroner]

Kinda crazy how evil some people are on this site re: mental illness and emotional instability

Like it really is "protect and respect mentally ill people!!!" Until those mentally ill people are in any way mean, angry, illogical and YES sometimes violent!!

It's all so hyper focused on the anxious soft uwu babies until you realize that mentally ill people are not always nice to you just for being nice to them. Literally some of yall will go on and on about accessibility for people with mental illnesses and anti-psychiatry but the moment any of us want to have a romantic relationship it's all "fix yourself" and "don't be abusive whatever you do!!!" Like that's the default.

God forbid two mentally ill people enter a relationship together! That really throws you fuckers for a loop "but who's the uwu soft anxiety and who's the vicious abuser manipulator evil bastard?"

Like I can't have an episode or react emotionally at all or I'm an asshole abusing my poor partner. God forbid it's a reasonable emotional reaction to my partner's own instability like,,,

And it's always somehow the partner with emotional deregulation or personality disorders like bipolar, borderline, or narcissism that are the evil side and the more palatable illnesses are always the victims.

It's really insane to me how mean people are to mentally ill people trying to do the right thing and sometimes falling short. But yall will stan anyone with a snippy comeback at fake anon hate for sure! "Nobody's perfect!!" Until that imperfection actually affects other people and then it's just evil

Sorry but sometimes I react overly emotionally and sometimes I act out and sometimes that hurts people! Doesn't mean I don't try to minimize that, but that also doesn't make me an evil abuser or a bad person because I've hurt people before. It's almost like life is complex and people and relationships are nuanced. Wow!

[ask-monster-men]

Jaakobah is doing things to me. He's so uncomfortably uncanny with his presentation and voice... and yet hes so hot to me.

How would he structure his deal differently with the reader character? It sounds like he'd rather bind their soul to him or keep them close physically as a trophy/plaything rather than just take it to sell to someone else

You hit it right on the head with that one, good job anon 👏

Your completely right, he doesn't love people he loves to OWN people. He gets sexual gratification out of it as for some reason owning things and people (mostly humans) really gets him going.

He's a manipulator and ropes people into his web of lies and abuse by promising them everything they want and then stripping them of everything they had leaving only him and them.

He doesn't just own people in the sense that he has them chained up but they could escape and never see him again-no no he owns their soul, their soul becomes part of his making him not only more powerful but more greedy for control. Depending on how much control he has over you (how much of you soul you give away to him) He can control simple things in you're body such as temperature or white blood cell count...these simple things can and will have horrific effects on you, he uses it as punishment or just when and whenever he's bored.

God forbid your one of his favourites.

If he realises you find him hot he's gonna use it against you, he'll play along and play nice or dirty if that helps. He'll keep a hand on your back or bring you gifts, affectionate words ANYTHING to get you to relinquish control over your own soul.

He'll rip apart those bitchy fuckers who bullied you when you where kids or he'll leave a scratch card on you parents door that wins them millions, he will do anything that floats your boat and he will do it with that deep and attractive accent, his body will move in away that compliment yours to real you in closer and closer.

Once your soul is his well its easier if I just write it.

He had been so kind to you, giving you gifts here and there and words of encouragement and hell he even saved your poor old parents from the load sharks, the police are still picking parts of them out of the floorboards.

You had grown up with the tales of beats and demons twisting poor people to give up their souls but Jaakobah had told you that giving a soul is the most intimate thing a supernatural being and human could do, that it's a sacred ritual that binds and tethers two beings together...he framed it to sound so pleasant...like marriage..and he had been so so good too you the least you could do is give him something you didn't think it was worth any value, I mean what could he do with a soul anyways?.

But there you two where, you where standing opersit him twiddling your thumbs together with nervousness burning your sense of self apart, he looked down at you he knew exactly what you where about to give him and he buried the malicious emotion of greed as so his face wouldn't switch to it with a ding.

"Mmm everything alright doll?" Doll, a nickname he gave you that you thought was just a cutey couple thing but you had no idea how accurate the name was. He spoke with fake concern lacing his voice, he bended down a little to reach you- his hight was quite intimidating and completely towered over even the tallest humans.

You looked up at him and smiled "I wanna do it... my soul I want to bind it with yours" binding was the only word you where told but in reality he would own and engulf your soul into his like a barracuda and a little clown fish.

His face twirled round with a bell like ring to a happy one, he stretched out his hand and hummed a laugh, he acted like you had just proposed to him and honestly you felt like you just had.

"Just shake my hand, shake it and anything you could ever want shall be yours" his words were intoxicating, you never had shook a hand so fast in your life a smile as bright as the sun placed itself neatly on your face until...his face, it spun around and around at a speed you haven't seen, it only lasted a few seconds until his face landed on a horrid face..it was evil and full of malicious intent, the floorboards started to dance as lights and smoke from under them poured out and he laughed

"Hmhmhmhm yess....yessss" the walls started to pound as a snake quickly shot out from behind him and wrapped around your two hands, preventing you from running away as it quickly sunk its teeth into you wrist, he only laughed harder in your face as he suddenly spun you around and let go of you to fall onto the ground, the snake curlled up and turned into ash.

You looked around in horror trying to comprehend what the hell was going on but suddenly Jaakobah plunged his hand into you chest and pulled out your heart but ehen you went to reach for your chest it felt fine

"you've got what you wanted"

He said the floorboards and walls still pounding as if there was an angry mob pounding to get it, he then stood at full height before he opened up his robe thing on tucked your soul away...suddenly you felt less like a whole inside you had just been excavated. A chain wrapped around your neck and it glowed in greens and pink sealing your fate.

"And you've lost what you had."

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"Greetings, Your Grace. Welcome to the Royal Estate of King Charles Toyonaga I of Strangetown."

Leo Toyonaga and his little sister, Venisha Toyonaga, greeted the visitors to their uncle's estate with rigid formality.

"Hey, Leo! I brought that game over you wanted to borrow. Edana's doing witch stuff, so I can hang out with you until I have to pick up the kids."

Duke Ewan Goldman forgot to bow to his half-brother and instead greeted him with the casual gesture well known in the islands. His wife just sighed. Ewan was never one for formality, especially when it concerned his family, and it drove Edana up the wall. Formality had been drilled into her by her parents and her old coven until it was second nature. Her brother in law was never upset if Ewan was relaxed around him, but Edana knew that Leo knew the formalities Ewan was ignoring.

"Awesome! Josh is taking the younger kids to magic lessons later, so we have all afternoon," Leo exclaimed, returning his sibling's gesture. "Venisha was just leaving, I was going to see her out. Gee is meeting her boyfriend for the first time."

Ewan chuckled at the thought of that poor kid.

"Does he know that his future father in law is the Grim Reaper, or is that going to be a surprise?"

"I told him," Venisha huffed. "Daddy promised to be nice. He loves everyone who is madly in love."

Even Edana had to raise a disbelieving eyebrow at this.

"Does he feel that way about the person you're sleeping with, or just generally people in love?" she laughed. "Has he met Lukas yet, or God forbid, your grandfather? I think he might have a change of heart if both the Grim Reaper and Death itself came over for family dinner."

"Hey, Lukas is fine, once you get to know them," Leo protested. "I gotta defend my boss here. I'd be more afraid of what my dad thinks of him. Josh is still terrified of my dad and we've been married over a decade now. Either way, Gee's expecting her, so let's get a move on."

Ewan and Leo made their way to the living room, while Edana set about her own agenda.

Leo smiled as he passed a familiar picture in the hall. All this talk about the Grim Reaper and Death reminded him of his half-sister Anna. He'd grown up resenting the infant sister who had died and broken their shared father in a way he was only now starting to heal from. It wasn't Anna's fault their father, Vrai, had been an absent, resentful father to Leo growing up, but he'd still spent years blaming her all the same. Ever since she suddenly appeared to them as a reaper, Vrai smiled more, and being a father now himself, Leo understood. It was no excuse for Vrai to parent him like he had, but it was an explanation at least.

Leo and Anna had bonded the instant they met. They shared many traits regarding their spouses, their parenting styles and their opinion on their parents. He and Josh frequently met up with the Goldmans for dinner or games. Their family was a complicated one, but Leo wouldn't trade it for the world.

"So, how are things?" Ewan asked, opening a beer and handing one to his brother. "Josh is doing okay? I heard he had some coven meeting with the Maricourts. Edana wasn't thrilled with how it went."

"It is what it is," Leo replied. "Edana and Josh are never going to be friends. She was the worst bully to a man just trying to overcome a magical learning disability while supporting his pregnant husband. He tried to hide how he was feeling from me, but he can't. I know the things she said to him. Her brother too. I'm not sure who was meaner."

Ewan shrugged.

"She's changed alot over the years," he replied, immediately defensive of his wife. "When I met her, she was a different person. I was a different person. I mean, I used to be-"

"An entitled deadbeat dick?" Leo laughed. "Yeah, I remember. I wish I had recorded you demanding Dad hand over his title to you while he was still alive so you could seduce more people."

"Well, I do have the footage of you running out of your expensive arranged marriage with your fiancée's best man, almost making Vrai miscarry Venisha with a broken spell," Ewan teased, illiciting a laugh from his brother.

"Oh god, last year was the first year that Dad actually let me mention Josh and my's anniversary on Venisha's birthday," Leo groaned. "I wasn't allowed to talk about it still, but I think I might be making some progress with him. I hope. The man knows how to hold a grudge."

"Tristianne was the best of us," Ewan said solemnly, bowing his head. "If she was still here, she'd have our parents eating out of her hand. Even when she fucked up, she was still better than us."

Leo nodded sadly, raising his beer to the memory of his late sister.

"To Tristianne," he declared. "May we live lives worthy enough for her not to kick our asses when we die."

"And may Medora give you enough of her mother's attitude now that she's a teen," Ewan laughed, clinking their bottles together.

"Don't remind me. It seems like she's always up to something these days. She has a new boyfriend and Josh has been obsessed with making sure he's worthy of her. The poor kid's probably going to be scared away at this point."

"How's our favourite deity doing by the way? Things have been quiet in royal court meetings. Maura’s collection of tiaras hasn't been raided in months, or so the security report stated."

"Well, Lukas is obviously busy somewhere," Leo sighed. "They're always busy with some scheme. Varia and I haven't heard a peep in weeks. Just because we're the newest members of their chosen heritary line of champions, doesn't mean that I get reports from them. Even the reapers get status reports and compensation from Gee. Working for Life can be a pain in the ass."

Leo looked over his shoulder at the portrait of three of the deities worshipped by Strangetown. He'd tried to explain to his uncle that Lukas was the only valid deity in that picture, and that the demigods the Toyonagas had descended from weren't around to hear their descendants' prayers. According to both Lukas and Gee, the Toyonaga ancestors had vanished without a trace centuries ago. Still, the king didn't try to force his beliefs on Leo, so Leo extended the same courtesy to him.

"Ah, man, you know it's going to be epic whenever they do surface," Ewan teased. "Stolen jewelry, fire raining from the sky...I'm glad 'destiny' never chose me for anything more complicated than staying awake when Maura launches into one of her speeches."

"The Ocean will reign them in," Leo replied, earning an eye roll from his sibling. "There is always balance."

"Are you sure that you're not in a cult?" Ewan asked, only partially joking. "You, Vrai, and Varia all talk like you're in a cult passed down from parent to oldest child. You would tell me if Lukas ever asked you to drink the kool-aid, right? I don't want to lose another sibling to something stupid."

"I'll be sure to let you know the instant they ask. Didn't you say you brought that game over? Why are we wasting time when we could be playing? We only have a few hours before Josh is expecting me."

"Your Majesty."

Edana sank into a curtsy before the king. Charley only laughed in reply.

"Get up, you know that you bow or curtsy to no one here," he insisted. "You're like a daughter to me, an unofficial princess in my eyes."

Edana could feel her face flush despite her best efforts. It was true that he told her the same thing every time she bowed in his presence, but it still felt wrong to her. The Darktides were an ancient family, but one descended from piracy and dark magic. They held no land or titles; their name was all they had. Everything she had, she worked for. She didn't need anything material from the king, only his friendship. She and Ewan had everything they needed in each other and their kids.

"What brings you by? Not that I mind, of course. You haven't stopped in for awhile now. How are the kids?"

"Oh, up to their usual antics," Edana sighed. "Adam has a boyfriend that he's convinced that he's going to marry, and Remy is poorly trying to pretend she doesn't have a girlfriend. Elowen's report card was fairly good though. As long as they're not all failing or pregnant, I guess. Ewan says I'm too hard on them, but my dad was hard on me and I turned out fine."

"You should bring them next time," Charley insisted. "Leo's kids get bored easily and they could always use new friends."

Edana smiled. Leo and his husband Josh lived in the Strangetown castle by invitation of the king. The king himself had three children, Nick, who died years ago, Arthur, who had moved to Arkhelios with his wife Alicia to help the coven and Anneken, the heir to the throne. After losing so many people from his family, the king seemed desperate to keep his castle filled with guests and extended quarters to his nephew, Leo, and even to Edana herself. Everyone secretly wondered what Edana had done to earn her suite in the castle and truthfully, she had no idea. The king was lonely and she was alone, the last of the Darktides. The monarch had seen a trembling, pregnant young adult, holding the body of her dead brother and taken her in as a surrogate daughter. There were times that she caught him watching her with a sad expression, likely remembering the son and daughter in law he had lost, just as she did when she caught a glimpse of her parents reflected in her children.

Anneken had been overjoyed to have a sister figure and Leo was happy to see his grieving uncle make an attachment to someone again. Josh still held her at bay because of their...complicated college years, but even he was cordial whenever she came over.

"I came to ask a favour," Edana replied. "I...I want to visit my brother. If you allow it that is."

"Your brother? You don't need to ask my permission to visit the royal cemetery, you've always had it," Charley said. "It's not open to the public, Edana, and you are not the public. You can go there anytime you wish."

Edana's eyes fell to the floor as she thought about how to phrase her request.

"I know, I just...just thought that maybe, someone would have to accompany me. As part of protocol. So I wouldn't be alone."

Charley nodded, finally understanding her request.

"Well, I could send a guard with you, but you know what? I haven't paid my respects to my mothers or Nick in a few months. I'll come with you and visit them while you visit your family. I would rather not go there alone either."

Edana flushed with gratitude, smiling at the king.

"Thank you. I asked if Ewan wanted to come visit his sister in her tomb, but he declined."

"Well, we all grieve differently," Charley said softly. "My brother would go every month to visit his daughter's grave like clockwork, but now that she has returned to us as a reaper, the cemetery is far too quiet. We need to lead Strangetown by example and visit our ancestors and lost ones regularly while also leaving offerings to the gods."

Edana nodded enthusiastically, but said nothing in reply. He was right, she didn't do nearly as much as she should for the gods and rarely thought of her ancestors outside of her immediate family. The only family she ever thought about was her husband, her kids, and her brother. Maybe that was the reason for the dreams she'd been having. The ones where Adam screamed her name over and over until she woke up drenched with terror. It was probably nothing, but the intensity of the dreams frightened her. It never hurt to double-check that nothing was wrong.

[anti-benophie]

Hey!!! welcome

 Hey guys! I decided, with the impending S4 start filming,  and the constant hate the benophie and their friends kanthony stans always spread to anyone,  with their elite groups ( some of them think are better than others) , there needed to be a safe space for others to come and rant/vent about the shippers and the ship itself! I was  a fan of the whole show but then when i saw the mistreatment towards fans even of their own ship i say, wow, crazy behaviour I know they can be super nasty shippers to the rest of us, general viewers or fans of other ships OR ALL SHIPS, because god forbid you to like the show itself. So I just wanted a place for people to talk about them, etc. We can talk about actors, ships and fans here. Honestly im taking this blog as a personal space to rant about all i dislike and i hope some people join me here to do the same Yes, I’m aware that there are nasty shippers in every corner of the fandom, but that’s true everywhere lbr here. This is about Benophie’s and kanthony`s specifically. I will be leaving anon ON so if y'all aren’t comfortable being 'seen’ by those shippers, you can say what you think without being worried about them attacking you. They’ve doxxed,  they’ve talked about our bodies and criticize characters bodies, also spread unhealthy stereotypes, just because is MORE sexy, or the only sexy things,  all over us not liking their fictional ship , or like one particular ship, or when we criticize either half of said ship, or the actors, god forbid us to not like the actors I also think we’re VERY much allowed to criticize benophie or kanthiny, which are very toxic but their fans refuse to see it. The hate poor Edwina has been receiving, for her the racism doesn't matter???  and criticize the actors and whoever will be the actress  of Sophie and their actions with other actors. Honestly LT has been really nice to all the other actors but his fans are SO SO NASTY. Moreover, why didn't he have an instagram account?? SA: why she never left likes or comments on her co-stars of Bton posts??? etc etc Anyhow, that’s why I made this blog! Feel free to pop in and say hello or just start sharing your negative thoughts/opinions on them If you send this blog hate, I’ll just roast you for being a dick like the cheater, the man who was a jerk with his siblings or the one who insisted on a woman to be his mistress, or ignore it which will probably just annoy you so maybe think twice before doing that. To end my presentation i will thank enormously @antipolin account for being my biggest inspiration and because seeing that blog give the last push to decide to do this. Hope many people will be happy 

[kowaindar0u]

👫 (Yuichi with either Saseki or Nagasone; or Taikyuu with either Nagasone or Yamatonokami. pick whichever :'3) ((@zantedeschia-praesul))

[ Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship ]

This got long so I'm putting in a cut lol

Yuichi & Saseki:

I know we briefly mentioned it so far but I really love the idea that Yuichi will/would have so much fun just sitting and painting with Saseki LOL jfjsjf like... Even if Yuichi is definitely not a painter, I think Yuichi would really like the casual just... Hanging out, maybe having a drink, and just painting, like no pressure or anything, just vibing. Maybe learning something from Saseki, maybe just doing their own thing

Yuichi thinks Saseki is like... so cool lol. Like a peer who has done and accomplished and overcome so much and hasn't seemed to lose his marbles yet lol. He only hopes he can be as competent and resilient should he face something tough.

I think eventually they'll get close enough that Yuichi can try and joke around with Saseki LOL. Like right now, he likes him a lot, but he's still like ... "Oh, we haven't known each other that well yet, I don't want to embarrass myself lol" but eventually... We'll see.

Maybe this isn't a headcanon so much as something I think would be cool but like. Their citadels joining forces sometime to take on the HRA or something, almost like a crossover episode, or...like...idk... Professor X and Magneto joining forces LMAO

Yuichi & Nagasone (doing some cause I can't resist):

In tandem with one that you wrote, I think Yuichi would very much go for the hands, especially when stressed or overwhelmed. Like, he's not the best at showing affection outright, but with some of his toudans he's gotten comfortable enough to reach out his hands. And Nagasone has big, strong, warm ones lol. Catch him gripping poor 'Sone's fingers real tight when something happens

Yuichi is very conscious of the fact that Nagasone lets him lean on him, can witness some of his less proud moments, and is always looking out for him, and I think he tries to take extra care to do the same for Nagasone when he can. Making sure he eats enough, rests enough, is handling things alright-- naturally what he does for any toudan, of course, but ... What I mean is he wants to take care that he isn't returning the favor, and not taking advantage of that thoughtfulness.

Taikyuu & Yamatonokami:

Taikyuu finds Yamatonokami so annoying. He's so... nice, and usually pretty cheerful, and kind of an airhead sometimes. God forbid Kashuu be away or something-- I think Taikyuu might not be far down the list for people to bother.

However. As different as they might be in many regards, the two are similar in their ferocity on the battlefield, and this is probably what makes Taikyuu the most proud to share a name with him. They probably get along the best/Taikyuu admires him the most, when they're both covered in blood and going a little apeshit lol

Also as annoying as he finds Yams, he's one of the few other toudans that I think Taikyuu would let intrude on his space (even if begrudgingly lol). He could come in to his room or sit beside him on the roof or engawa without much of a fuss, besides maybe a half-hearted "what do you want?". Especially if Yamatonokami was feeling down or something, he's like... Fine.

I don't think Taikyuu would realize how much he likes (loves) and appreciates Yams until he's gone away on kiwame 😭 he's already a bit lonely waiting for... Spear(TM), but Yams being gone is like... 'There goes the one person I never had to TRY and be close to', y'know? I'm emo now thinking about it 😭

Bonus: if Taikyuu were in toumyu too the Yasusada bros would both be doing flips all over the stage together lol it would be amazing

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 2

Propaganda Under Cut

Gwen

She stands in the way of Merthur, by far the most popular ship in the fandom. I haven’t seen it as much in recent years, but back in the days of fanfiction.net she got slut shamed so badly for having been romantically interested in three of the male characters over the course of the show, which is just... normal straight woman behavior, meanwhile Merlin crushed on pretty much every woman who even looked at him in the early seasons of the show and got no hate for that whatsoever. I barely even read Merthur fics (not because it’s m/m, just because certain aspects of their relationship don’t appeal to me) but the “Gwen is a slut” attitude was so pervasive across the fandom, even fics that weren’t explicitly anti-Gwen would “jokingly” call her a slut. I even saw a few fics demonizing her for having an affair with Lancelot despite the fact that SHE WAS ENCHANTED when that happened, and surprise surprise, Lancelot (who was also under the influence of magic) got none of that hate, and neither did Arthur, who got enchanted to fall in love with multiple women over the course of the show.

Canonically Arthur Pendragon's love interest and an important and interesting character in the show who's completely shoved aside and ignored in favour of the medieval bbc yaoi ship. At best they put her and Morgana in Lesbian Timeout (ie make them get together and then reduce them to wingwomen at best because god forbid we focus on the medieval bbc yuri). Justice for Gwen right now!

She is prince Arthur's love interest (eventually wife). Arthur is MADLY in love with her. He tells his tyrannical father he would give up his crown to be with her (she's a servant in the series). He forgives her cheating on him with Lancelot (!), which in the show is caused by an evil enchantment, but the characters never find out about it. He chooses her time and time again. His love for Gwen is literally never put into question. Many fans insist to this day that there was no chemistry between Gwen and Arthur compared to Arthur and Merlin. Arthur isn’t even particularly nice to Merlin most of the time! The funny thing is that Merlin himself ships these two so hard and does everything he can to help them get together!! Gwen & Arthur are adorable and too many fans were drunk on the yaoi fumes to see it. ARTHUR WAS A SIMP FOR GWEN.

Iris Hawthorne

Ex gf of the MC i lover her ok she is sweet

Phoenix wright’s canon ex girlfriend. Extremely underappreciated because people ignore her to make narumitsu work better

poor girl gets slandered by the fandom so much for being the main character’s ex. i know she was used primarily for the plot but cmon everyone’s just so mean to her. she was manipulated into doing terrible things by her sister whom she loves so much and she didn’t know any better because all she wanted was to have a family. it’s not an excuse for her actions but it’s just so tragic that she did everything for her sister just for her to use her for her own personal gain

[moirtre]

*    08 : 22 AM .    WE GO GENTLE:    jul. 11, 2015.

CHARACTERS:    emiya ueno & sohn naryun. WORDS:    1061. WARNINGS:    swearing, they're a little mean to sienna & heri in this one, mention of cha*s theory members bc they're a warning on their own idk, dead parents mention, an allusion to unspecified teenage trauma, melanie says not nice things.

Emmy had always been prone to migraines. It was a wonder she had made it this far in her career without getting on some serious medications with all the bright lights and noise she dealt with on a daily basis. Her father often chastised her, begging his only daughter to see a doctor about the malicious pounding that frequently left her miserable. It wasn’t lost on Emmy that living in the Letalis dorm was likely the most central piece of her intolerable affliction. 

The seven girls were by no means friends. They were close, sure. Emmy knew every last thought that passed through the others’ heads, as she was sure they reciprocated. But it was also true that Emmy wasn't overly fond of any of the others, besides, maybe, Naryun when she didn’t lock up the room they shared for reasons Emmy was never too interested to pay attention to.

Not that she paid much attention to what the other six girls did in the dorm they shared anyways.

In the nearly three years that the girls had been living together, Emmy had never experienced her migraines as frequently as she did the past two weeks. Melanie and Heri’s almost-friendship had completely broken down (Emmy didn’t quite care enough to find out why) leaving the younger a victim of the Australian’s vindictiveness. Emmy often found herself in both shock and horror at the venom that seemed to come naturally to Melanie’s expressions and exclamations. 

“Bullshit like that is why everyone you know is ashamed of you,”

Is what Emmy last heard before she carefully closed the door to her room and tugged on a pair of headphones to drown out the sounds of the argument of the hour. Taking a seat on the floor of her room, Naryun floated out of their shared bathroom, wrapped in a towel Emmy was sure Juniper had last threatened the others about using just the other night. 

“Is that Mels and Heri?” She asked with her face turned towards the rapper expectantly. 

Emmy only offers a hum paired with a nod before opening up her spiraled green notebook. Naryun offers an incredulous chuckle as she continues, “It’s…” She pauses, a huff escaping her nose delicately. “It’s sad, they used to be kind of close, right?”

It is Emmy’s turn to chuckle. “I dunno, were they?”

Naryun takes a moment to think, searching for god-knows-what in her mess of a closet as she does so. Emmy found it funny how easily Naryun could construct her own version of a reality so widely shared between so many people. She figures it’s a coping mechanism she adopted before becoming a trainee. But Naryun doesn’t talk about her early teenage years much, so Emmy doesn’t ask either. 

“Yeah,” Naryun speaks as if her decided-upon response was especially obvious. Emmy waits for her reasoning before realizing Naryun didn’t have one, she never did. 

“If anything, I think Sienna and Mels are closer than she and Heri ever were.” Emmy shrugs, matching Naryun’s matter-of-fact assessment. Of course, Naryun takes another moment to contemplate her roommate’s point of view.

“Well, they’re… related, so, I don’t think they have much of a choice.” Emmy doesn’t react, she doesn’t have to because she knows she’s right— she’s always right, and Naryun is only working it out in her mind aloud.

“She can’t be super bitchy to Sienna, dead parents and all that.” 

Emmy laughs lightly at the remark adding, “God forbid her platonic relationships don’t work out.”

Naryun, only providing fire to the embers of a joke continues, “Always the fault of some distant sky deity who’s had it out for poor Miss Sienna van der Roest since birth.” Emmy rolls her eyes at the thought of one of Sienna’s many familiar excuses and accusations. 

In her mind, the only thing separating Sienna and Heri was their approach when it came to playing the victim. Sienna had always played the perfect victim.

Her normally generously honeyed tone became nasally, wrought with a pleasant vocal fry, and the slightest bit pathetic— the perks of being an admittedly talented actress. Heri never could manage to emulate Sienna’s perfect act. Emmy knew better than to expect Heri to be capable of crafting anything unless someone had already set it up for her. 

“Do you ever feel…” Emmy trails off, deciding at that moment to choose her next words very carefully.

Naryun turns back to her, hands carefully rolling her dampened, dark hair into rollers sitting next to the blowdryer adorning her side of their vanity. 

“Do I ever feel what?” She speaks, almost impatiently eager to hear Emmy’s typically hidden thoughts. 

“Do you ever feel just— exhausted by all of this fighting and screaming and— and crying? Because it’s starting to really get to me.” 

Though the sentiment begins with a loud rumble, it reaches a whisper towards its end as Naryun stares back at Emmy with wide eyes. It’s not often Sohn Naryun is confronted with a version of reality she must address head-on, but it’s obvious from her spot in the creaky chair that Emmy is reaching for a lifeline. 

A real answer. 

So she takes a deep breath, “Emmy, have you thought about moving out?” Receiving a shake of Emmy’s head in response, Naryun continues on.

“I know your migraines have been getting worse since— since you and Juniper stopped getting along. I’ve been looking for apartments with Narae, you should… think about it. Might be good for you.” She chooses to bite her tongue after this, turning back to her vanity to continue her routine.

The silence between the two of them is not quite silent as the echo of raised voices and slamming doors from down the hallway travel along the pale walls of the dorm. But Naryun doesn’t have to keep staring at the rapper to know her words have penetrated through Emmy’s headphones and into her subconscious.

For Naryun, it’s not much of a surprise when Emmy hauls all of her belongings from the dorm with the help of various members of Chaos Theory as her unofficial roadies just three weeks later. She’s understandably peeved the 20-year-old never offered a warning of her pending development.

She knows it’s for the best, silently hugging her goodbye and flipping Quinton off as he attempts to pull off a joke at her expense.

[weirdcrocodilelady]

hey!! saw you asking for arthur x reader prompts. i’m sorry if this isn’t what you were really looking for but could you do something more platonic? like arthur being a bit of a father figure for reader :)

I actually think about Harrow as a father (or father figure) a lot...I think he'd be really good at it. He talks to that teenage girl in Episode 2 and she seems really comfortable with him, and it makes me think he probably takes a personal interest in all his followers, regardless of age, and really has that special set of "people skills" that lets him manipulate form close relationships fairly easily. I mean, he's a cult leader. They're kind of known for that...

...But putting aside the cult stuff for now, here's some nice wholesome headcanons:

If he had a "kid" kid (meaning under 18), I think he would definitely homeschool them. He kind of toes the line between wanting to control their learning and be aware of what they're up to at all times, but also having a sincere desire to nurture their interests and let them learn at their own pace without the restrictions of grades, standardized tests, etc. So god forbid he catches his kid reading smutty fanfic that isn't appropriate for their age, he might instead help them find reading material that's more age appropriate but that they still find interesting, and maybe even help them write their own stories. (it's called redirecting, y'all)

I think he would be more restrictive when it comes to their social activities, unfortunately. His worst fear would be for their scales to not balance, so he doesn't let them hang out with anyone who might pressure them to do things that might affect that balance. The hard part of that is, Ammit doesn't exactly offer a handbook detailing what specific activities affect a person's scales, and a kid going to the mall with their friends unsupervised will probably not do anything evil, but why risk it, right?

I have no idea where this came from, but I have this random headcanon that he doesn't trust doctors? So he'd take his kid to get checkups and vaccines and everything only because there isn't really a safe alternative, but he'd be very reluctant and it would probably be one of the rare times he actually appears nervous or anxious to other people. Other than that, he relies on alternative medicines as much as possible and is kind of a genius at that stuff. (Again, this is a REALLY random headcanon that came to me out of nowhere one day, so feel free to take or leave it)

Part of my general backstory for him involves him being really poor for a lot of his life, then ending up with a lot of money due to getting wealthy "backers" on his side when he started the Ammit Club (I decided a while back that Billy Fitzgerald is a millionaire, again, I have no idea where these headcanons are coming from). So if you lived with him when he was younger, money would have been tight and there probably wouldn't have been many luxuries. But he would make things special for you whenever he could. I imagine he's very creative in the kitchen (he had Victor's recipe that one time, but who's to say he couldn't whip up his own unique lentil soup on a whim if he wanted?) and could make all kinds of delicious meals with even the most seemingly random ingredients.

He expects all his followers to help maintain the community as much as they're able to, and it would be the same for those he considers family. But he's not one of those leaders/parental figures who just gives a command and expects you to understand how to do it without any instruction. If someone is new, or younger, or doesn't seem to understand the task, he would explain more clearly or demonstrate, whatever kind of help you needed. He would also give you tips on doing your work more efficiently or easily, if it seems like you're getting bogged down or discouraged. You can come to him with literally anything you're having trouble with, even if it seems like a really simple task that you "should" be able to complete with no problem. He's incredibly patient and a great teacher/mentor.

I fully believe the majority of his physical touches are genuine, and I think touch is probably his love language. Even though he also uses touch to manipulate people into trusting him, he knows that method works for a reason. If you don't like being touched, or you're not comfortable with it at a certain time, you'd have to tell him because his instinct is to reach out and hug you when you're upset. But once you've told him, you'll never have to tell him a second time. He can be perfectly respectful of boundaries when he wants to be (i.e. when the person isn't standing in the way of him springing his goddess free).

I hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for...again, some of these are pretty specific headcanons I made up, so you can take or leave those if you want😅

Thanks for the ask!!!