#i don’t know how that correlates to today and me being confused and upset because my sister refused to answer a question about my dog

[robertsbarbie]

i do a really bad thing where i have a conversation in my head but then retaliate out loud like when i’m overwhelmed i’ll be like ‘gosh everyone is being so annoying and so loud’ and then the second someone talks to me directly i’ll be like ‘STOP DONT TALK TO ME’ instead of being normal in the first place and asking people to not talk to me in a polite manner

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

[silverswanqueen]

I mostly disliked RWBY since V3 because the dark turn and how they went about it I just subjectively didn't like(I was expecting it to be more akin to Harry Potter or Avatar The Last Airbender) and now its seems like its going through the same song and dance I've seen with Fate: Zero, Akame Ga Kill, Madoka Magica and Gen Urobuchi's other works. I get the points of those works, being righteous, moral, and noble in the face of tragedy, but I've just grown tired of it. But so many stans have built their ego and identity around these works that they can't allow anyone to openly and subjectively not like something anymore. And holy shit have I never felt the brunt of that than from the RWBY loyalists.

idk I'm not pretending I am speaking objectively here, but I feel like the very fact RWBY seems to becoming this kind of dark is what's drawing blind fanatics who hold it up as one of their secular religious texts and Monty as one of their patron saints, with the other works and writers being their other texts and prophets respectively

"It's awesome because its tragic and well-earned happy endings are bad"

One wonders how Inuyasha, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Harry Potter, The Star Wars Original Trilogy, or even Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Hammer's "The Devil Rides Out" would be received if they were made today and not back in the day.

Thanks for the ask and I hope my rambling isn’t confusing!

I definitely get where you’re coming from, and while I’m not familiar with Gen Urobuchi’s works I’ve seen the name enough to know there’s definitely a correlation there. I for one wasn’t necessarily upset with V3’s conclusion, but I was also much younger, didn’t have an attachment to Penny or Pyrrha like many did, and thought more would be done with the characters than what was accomplished. However, I recently did some research for my academics similar to this phenomena which I believe I can apply! However, I cannot say my explanation of it is the be all end all, because I cannot account for every RWBY fan who exhibits this behavior, so take it as you will haha.

There’s a certain pocket of literature/media that focuses on what’s referred to as the “Grimmdark,” I believe, and I’ve seen shows fall back into this phenomena of “everything must be hopeless and tragic, every victory must be pyrrhic,” and while that’s definitely a narrative you can go with, it’s spread to multiple fan bases and media over recent years. This narrative is an “infection,” since lots of social phenomena can be synonymous with an infecting trait. I compare it to Teresa Brennan’s “Transmission of Affect,” a huge study on social phenomena and how (and this is me paraphrasing) humans respond physically to social situations, meaning while the “process” is social and origin, its effects are “biological and physical,” which we can see with RWBY loyalists. They respond to the Grimmdark social infection and alter themselves (i.e. identification and physical response) to require this sort of social engagement. This altering of self is done unconsciously, and while I don’t want to get into the agency of self, the self is affected by environment, and the environment of the Grimmdark, as a result, directly influences the self. They are “infected” with the Grimmdark, and thus must engage with it. Now this isn’t bad, since the transmission of affect exists and works on all of us in many ways, but it can breed some negative results, and I think the RWBY fandom is one of them.

Now, to preface here, I’m not bashing Monty. I was still an avid fan when he passed, and I still look up to Monty to this day because of his talent and passion as an animator. But Monty… he wasn’t what I would call the best storyteller, because he was very impulsive. He would think of something, hot potato it to Miles and Kerry, and sometimes the additions would break canon a bit. Add this in with the transmission of affect which has already been in the works with the Grimmdark storytelling for some time, and it eventually attracts those “infected” by it, and as a result, breeds a toxic environment. It’s completely fine to like the Grimmdark and be, as I say, “infected” by it, but to allow this fascination with it to declare a subjective view of how storytelling should be as objective is the exact issue the fan base of RWBY has.

RWBY has fundamental writing flaws and thrown in ideas that aren’t implemented in such a way to flow coherently with the rest of the currently set narrative and world-building, and often breaks the canon that leaves the loyalists scrambling to pick up the splinters and create headcanons that allow the world-building to remain untarnished for them. This is what causes the disconnect, because those that cling to the Grimmdark as the objectively correct way to tell a story are not only trying to say it must be dark, but also the way it was written, aka the method in which we’ve gotten to this dark conclusion, is the way it must be. This is where the issue is, because they see criticism as an attack on the Grimmdark and not a critique of the writing mechanics utilized within the Grimmdark.

Subjective criticism is suddenly viewed as attacks on things that are objective. And this is one of the huge problems that many fanatics won’t understand they’re perpetuating, or simply don’t care that they are perpetuating this issue. The Grimmdark is fine, but the Grimmdark is not the be all end all of storytelling.

I could ramble more, but this is getting a bit lengthy. Essentially, yes, you’re right, they cannot allow someone to subjectively dislike it, because to them, there’s nothing subjective about it.

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Thanks // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 6

Description: Y/N begins to understand the severity of Mouse’s injuries

Warnings: Whump

Pairing: Jay x Reader (eventual), Reader x Mouse!Platonic, Jay x Mouse!Platonic

Words: 1470

A/N: This is honestly the slowest, slow-burn I’ve ever written. But we’re getting there, I promise! This part is leading into some bigger developments, that’s for sure. Thank you all for your support, likes, and comments. It’s really what keeps me going. I try to keep up on people asking to be on the tag-list. If I missed you, just shoot me a message, and I’ll make sure you get on. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Neither of you spoke about that night, figuring out a schedule that worked for both of you while Jay was off work instead. It was a carefully laid out system. Tuesdays and Fridays you’d pick Jay up just after breakfast before heading down to see Mouse. The three of you would sit at the window or outside for a few hours, then, you’d leave the two men alone for a while while you volunteered with the other residents. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with them, but more that you didn’t want to interrupt their time together. 

You'd join them again for dinner, the three of you staying in Mouse's room until the aide came in to help him get ready for bed. It was a system that worked, none of you having to give anything up. And you kept up with the system for three weeks until Jay was cleared to wear his prosthesis again.

It took a readjustment to remember that you didn’t have to head towards Jay’s apartment before going down south. Or that you didn’t need to order two coffees instead of one. Those three weeks had let you understand Jay better, the two of you closer. Just because you weren’t picking him up to see Mouse didn’t mean that you no longer saw each other -- or that you just saw each other at the facility. He’d make sure to drop by your office if he was at Med, smile always on his face. Occasionally, one of you would suggest a pizza night, or to go out for a drink. It was nice.

Yet, a part of you felt guilty. Here you were, getting to live and experience life in so many amazing ways. And Mouse was stuck in a nursing home for thirteen years. Though you hadn’t known the man for long, you still felt like there was more you could do to make things better. And you really started to believe that during one visit. 

Jay had beat you there, like he typically did. Now that he was driving himself, it wasn’t always on the same day anymore, but typically you would both show up on Fridays. It was one of those mucky fall days, where the clouds hid everything in the sky and cast shadows on the earth, a slight drizzle not able to decide if it wanted to be a downpour or not. There were no birds to watch, just the clouds rolling by. You were dreading the drive back, not wanting to get caught in the rain.

Mouse seemed to be on edge, usually a pretty mellow guy. Jay seemed to notice it as well, talking to him about the latest hockey game to try and soothe him. It didn’t seem to be working that well, though. His fingers tapped his knees despite the jerky movements, no rhythm discernable, rocking gently back and forth in his chair. No movement was coordinated with another. 

“Outside,” Mouse said, cutting Jay off in the middle of a sentence. His voice was insistent despite the shaking tone. 

“We can’t go outside today, Mouse. We don’t want you getting sick because it’s raining too much,” his friend answered, so he turned to you, a pleading look on his face.

“Outside,” he said again, even more insistent. You wanted to say yes, but you knew Jay was right. It just wasn’t the right day to go outside. 

“I’m with Jay on this one, Mouse,” you answered softly. “We can’t go out today because of the rain. But how about next week if it’s not raining?” Despite being a grown man, his mentality reminded you of a child at times -- which wasn’t too far off considering the extent of his brain injury. He didn’t like that answer, head turning to look out the window again as he continued his tapping and rocking. 

You met Jay’s eyes, the man looking worried. It seemed like he had seen this before with Mouse, though you weren’t sure what to expect. You’d never seen him act this way in the nearly eight weeks you’d been coming to see him. 

“Why don’t you and I head to your room, Mouse?” Jay suggested, moving to stand up.

“No!” The outburst wasn’t what you were expecting, not by a long shot. “No! No! No! No!” he continued yelling. It wasn’t until his fists started hitting his face, the side of his head that a nurse intervened with a syringe of liquid. A sedative, you knew. 

He continued his mantra of ‘no’ even more fervently when he saw her approaching. If his coordination was better, there would be no doubt in your mind that he had meant to hit her when his hand made contact. But you knew better. Despite working with psychological trauma, you had a basic understanding of the emotional and psychological aspects following a brain injury. And you had an even better understanding knowing some of Mouse’s background. His protests died down once the liquid was pushed into the muscle of his arm.

“We’re going to take him to his room,” the nurse finally told the two of you. “I think it would be best if he didn’t have any visitors for the rest of the day.” Jay nodded, seeming to understand this routine, but you didn’t. It wasn’t right, even though it might be policy.

Outbursts when it came to traumatic brain injuries were common, caused by a destruction or alteration of the pathways in the brain that help with emotional control and temperament regulation. And taking away somebody’s support system because of something they couldn’t control was unethical to say the least. Yet, you knew it was common in places like these. They were more worried about safety and comfort of others, that they failed to recognize what the policy was doing to the person who was actually suffering. 

“No, I think we’re going to stay,” you told her, the woman obviously confused. 

“Look, he’s had a long day. It would be best-”

“No, you look. Policy isn’t set in stone. And I should have you know, that we are the only support system he has anymore aside from the caregivers in this place. You of all people should understand -- as a nurse -- that the emotional outbursts in patients with brain injuries are not always a direct correlation to an outside cause, though yes they can be triggered. And saying that we can’t stay with him because of an emotional outburst that he had no control over is barbaric and unethical. I would know. I’m a doctor,” you snapped. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. We will take him back to his room and get him into bed. Please bring in a dinner tray for him when it’s time.” 

She was flabbergasted at your statements, backing away from the wheelchair as you took her place, making sure he stayed situated in his chair as you pushed it down the hallway to his room. Jay was close behind, not saying anything, though you had a feeling he’d have a lot to say. Jay helped you get him out of the wheelchair and into bed, pulling the covers up over him before he took a seat in the wheelchair and you took a seat at the desk, slumping back as you let out a sigh.

“That was…” Jay said, smiling as he looked at you, softly shaking his head in amazement. “That was something else.”

“Has this happened before?” You needed to get a better understanding of what was going on to figure out what you could do for him. 

“Yeah, a few times. They always say it’s one thing or another that pushes him, but I’ve seen it happen at the drop of a hat for apparently no reason. And they try not to sedate him, but there are times we can’t get him to calm down,” he answered, glancing over at the sleeping form of his friend.

“And do they always make you leave after his outbursts?” Jay just nodded with a sigh. “I meant what I said, Jay. It’s not right that they make you leave. It’s not like he wants to get upset like that.”

“Yeah, I just...I don’t know what to do you know? He’s been here for over a decade, this is all he knows now. What can I do when I have no right to do anything?” 

“He doesn’t have any remaining family?” Jay shook his head. “Then there’s something you can do. Let me talk to a couple of my colleagues, and then I’ll be able to explain further.” 

“Thanks,” he finally said, reaching out and squeezing your hand. “For everything.”

“That’s what friends are for.” You squeezed his hand back, returning the smile. Now, it was time to get to work.

Tag List: @yzas-stuff @gemmafountainloves @ceiliesla @corebore123 @annaallicce @fullwattpadmusictree @bethii1 @thevelvetseries @mich-lynne3 @itmejado @music-is-my-escape71 @not-onlyedmlyrics @supergirl000983 @mandybug39 @okiegirl24 @haileymatthewss @httphiddlestan @capmanranger @ahhh0ahhh @bookgiver @daenerys-targaryes @galacticsmoon @beachfan412 @wearesodrica @danielacastellon @genericcaner @halsteadsway @theskytraveler @miranda0102 @amyarondottir @onechicago18 @lovecatystuff @doramstr @itsdesiree86 @raveenasblog @smalltowngirly05 @formulahockey @lookatallthefeels

[bittybattybunny]

Day 13!!! Fairytale!!!

Today i went for a storybook style since instead of a fairy tale au instead the two are discussing Fairy tales and why a certain wolf doesn’t seem to ‘fall’ for the Prince like in the books and she points out she’s a wolf not a princess

Plus a Bonus doodle from post discussion

Ficletttt timeeeee it’s a lil long sooo read more

“Hrm.” the ghost frowned as he set the book back on the shelf.

“Something bothering you?” Eclipse tilted her head as she leaned around the shelf startling him.

He gasped with her sudden appearance and gripped his chest with a heavy sigh, “Don’t do that! I could have… well no but. Don’t spook me.”

She giggled as she hopped down from the ledge and looked at the book he put back, “Ah!” she lit up with excitement, “Fairy tales!”

He turned a light yellow, “yeah. I was reading to the minions again.” he rubbed his ‘neck’ with a huff, “Just was thinking about some things while I did.”

“Oh?” she flipped through it with a small smile, fangs peeking from her lips.

He stared at her and shook his head as he felt himself almost shift to human form as he stared. He chuckled, “yeha just. Um. Prince has been rather… confused lately. So I thought fairy tales may have answers because they often have a Prince.” he scowled, “and just. You know a Prince with a prince problem and all that.. Stupid stuff.”

“Fiction and reality rarely correlate like that.” she pointed out as she looked up from the book, “What’s wrong, if you can talk about it? He doesn’t talk to me much about things he’s worried about, just gives me flowery words and is s-u-p-e-r touchy.” she laughed. She paused in thought, “Well no we do talk sometimes but. Most of the time he’s just trying so hard to be that stereotypical prince…”

He turned yellow and looked away, “To be honest… it’s you.” he mumbled.

She frowned and pointed to herself, “me? What’s the matter? How should I change? Did I make him upset?” she sighed, “sorry.”

“N-No you shouldn’t change! You’re… adequate as you are. Best assistant I’ve ever had. You didn’t make HIM upset. Far from it.. Just. Confusion.” he huffed, “Just. I guess he’s so confused about the fact you don’t fall for those words. Or the whole… Prince thing.” 

The ghost sighed as he thought about it, “In books and his past, normally people just.. Fell for the prince for being a prince. With his flowery poems and kindness. He likes you. A lot. And last time he was with someone she loved the Prince thing...”

“And look where that got them...I told him when we met I like someone else.” she hummed as she went back to the book and sat on the wall as she did. She brushed her hair from her face as she read the worn pages, “I’m not going to simply fall for someone else when I’ve liked the same person for a few years. Prince or not. I’m not a princess.” she gave him a small smirk but he was looking away.

She sighed and laid back on the stone, holding the book to her chest, “If he thinks a fairy tale is what I’m after he’s wrong.” she waved a hand, “I don’t care about that. I CAN’T care about that.”

“Y-You don’t?” he frowned slithering over to stand above her, “Then what is it you care about….ah…” he turned yellow as she reached up,  rubbing her hands over his ‘cheeks’ with a soft smile. He smiled back and put his hands over hers.

“I just like who I like for who he is and the time we’ve spent. That’s all. Nothing fancy. No flowery words, no false pretenses. Just a little snarky, a little mean, a lot kind.” she snickered before gasping as she was scooped up. 

“Snatcher!” she laughed as she was held in his arms and he picked the book up and sat in her spot.

She gave a heavy sigh as she leaned against him, “Besides…”

“Besides?” he repeated.

“I’m not a princess like the books.” she pointed out, “In fairy tales. The prince always falls for a princess…”

“Ah… Not always. Sometimes she came from a poorer birth but…” he ran over the fairy tales he knew by heart, “Ah…”

“Exactly. I’m not a princess, I’m far from it.” she played with a curl of his fur.

“I could argue but I won’t.” he teased making her chuckle.

“I’m a wolf Snatcher. I’m not a princess. So you can tell Prince that. I… I am as far from a princess as he’ll ever get…” she gripped at her scarf with a sad smile, “So a fairy tale… it’s not possible… the wolf always loses. So if he thinks I want a fairy tale. He’s dead wrong. I don’t.. I’d love to be a princess but I will never be. I’m the wolf with claws and fangs. Who dances with the dead.”

He frowned and shifted, nuzzling her face, “You’re talking to an undead law school drop out who eats souls. I don’t think that’s an issue he’s got.”

“Indeed!” she gave a smile as she rested in his fur, “I don’t want a fairy tale and I won’t fall for a prince just because of his title. Titles don’t mean much to me.” she teased looking at him as he turned yellow, “And know I’m the big bad wolf of Subcon Woods.” she bared her fangs making him laugh loudly. 

“Eclipse. Thank you.” he smiled softly and nuzzled against her, “I’ll… let prince know if that’s fine. I’m sure that will help his confusion.” he chuckled, “A big idiotic, kind-hearted wolf.”

She watched his face glow and felt her cheeks go warm. She laid against him with a small smile, eyes drifting to the fairy tale book. She gripped at her scarf, “Anytime…”

-------

“SNATCHER!” Hat laughed as the ghost jumped in his chair. 

He gave a sharp scowl, “What?”

“What’s up with Eclipse?” She crawled on the arm, tumbling into his lap as he caught her.

“Ah… I don’t know. Why? What’s she doing?” He looked at her worried.

“She just seems… down? Like she’s smiling but…” hat frowned, “Did you do something weird as ‘Prince’ again?” she narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t. I haven’t even taken my human look today.” he leaned on his arm and gasped, “ah… our conversation earlier… I wonder if it...upset her….”

“What did you do.” Hat sneered as he sighed.

“We were talking about… Fairy tales and princes and stuff…”

“Wow. Subtle.” She snickered as he shoved against her face.

“Keep it up I have more death wishes if you want brat.”

“Bring it old man!” she cackled and wrapped her arms around his hand, “So why’d she get sad?”

He lifted the kid up as he thought about it. Running over her words he gasped, “She’s being negative again! Dammit I didn’t catch her this time!” he fumed, “She hid it so well with the conversation and I was so wrapped up in myself!”

“Shocker.” Hat kid frowned, “So what happened?”

“Well i was… to be blunt reading fairy tale books to see if I was doing something wrong making her fall for Prince instead of…” he gestured at himself.

“Riiiighhhtt. You could just. Tell her the truth.” She leaned on her hands as she laid on his head.

“That defeats the purpose of this...act…” he turned light yellow, “She SHOULDN’T love a dead soul stealer…”

“You realize you’re still a dead soul stealer even as prince right?” She pointed out.

“That’s not important, she doesn’t know that!” he argued, “But point is we were talking and she.. Got hung up on she’s not a princess… She’s a wolf. And the wolf always loses…” he recalled her phrasing with a scowl.

“She could be a wolf princess. I watched a movie like that! She was wicked strong and pretty! Like Eclipse!” Hat beamed, “I have an idea! I need scissors, glue, paper, glitter and crayons!”

He moved her down as he slithered to get her craft supplies from the shelf, “I’ll do the scissor work kiddo. I don’t need you bleeding in my house.”

“Righhhttt says the guy who keeps killing me.” She rolled her eyes as she went to sit at the table and began her master plan.

“What are you doing?” He watched as she colored and slathered glitter down, “Ah!” He saw the shape and gave a small smirk.

“You’ll need to take your prince noodle form. I think it’ll work.” She grinned handing it to him, “Cut please!”

“Alright.” he shifted down as he held the scissors humming as he cut the crown out and taped it in a circle, “Good work. Looks decent. Sloppy but you’re what 6?”

“I’m 8 but go on.” She snickered as she raised her arms, “Carry me! I wanna help give her it!”

He chuckled, “Fine only because you made it. Where did you see her last?”

“Putting up spider lures in the west area.” She snickered as he flew out of the treehouse.

It didn’t take long for them to find Eclipse as she stood high up on the nearly invisible branches, the gentle chiming noise heard with each step.

“Eclipse!” Hat kid shouted up causing her to look down. She waved and jumped, landing in front of them.

“Hey Kiddo! Prince.” She nodded to the man who gave a soft smile, “What’s up?” she clapped some dust off her gloves.

“We made you something!” Hat grinned, “Snatcher helped us!”

“Oh?” she looked between them confused as the man set the paper crown on her head. She turned bright red, “W-what are you D-Doing?!” She gasped as he kissed her cheek.

“Sometimes. Fairy tales can be rewritten.” he admitted, “And the wolf can be the princess.”

She felt her whole face grow hot as she stammered, unable to get any words out.

Snatcher grinned, it was the first time he was able to get that sort of reaction from her while he was Prince. He set the little girl down to catch Eclipse as she started to trip backwards in her red faced stupor. She stared up at him as he held her back and smiled at her. She covered her face with her hands ashamed.

Hat pulled her camera out to snap a photo and grinned, she couldn’t wait to tell Bow their plan was working.

[petertingle-yipyip]

Selfish - Peter Parker

Part Three: Good in Goodbye

// Selfish // Stained Glass //

//Tags @josiemara @dylanstilinskiposts @just-a-sad-chicken-nugget-xxx @throughparisallthroughrome​ @tomhollandssecurityguard​  @marvel4geeks​ @yourbiggestspiderfan​ //

Word Count: 5974

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter and Y/N have revealed their secrets and tried to talk things out. But in an effort to be honest, it may have gotten worse. Is there hope for this couple or should they find the good in goodbye?

“You got blood on your hands.” Your dad stands over you, Captain America on one side and Black Widow on the other. “How do you plead?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” You say weakly. “I made a mistake. Just-”

“You seem to do a lot of that.” Captain America’s voice bounces through the room.

“Please, I love him. Let me make it right!”

“Doesn’t look like you loved him enough, did you?” Black Widow’s voice offers you a challenge.

-

“Y/N?” MJ said from your side, shaking you lightly.

You jumped slightly, sitting up quickly from leaning against the table. You looked around, seeing no one left in your class room but you, MJ, and your teacher. You sighed slightly, wiping your face and trying to clear your head of your latest dream. You gathered your school supplies and noted that you hadn’t written anything on your papers.

“I slept the whole class period, didn’t I?” You asked regretfully as you and MJ left the room, waving a goodbye to your teacher.

“Mhmm.” She nodded simply. “I’ll send you my notes later.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, pulling out your phone to see nothing from Peter.

“Wanna tell me what happened last night?” MJ offered as you two headed to the main door. “You look terrible.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged.

“Does that have any correlation to Peter not being here today?”

“Probably, I don’t know.” You mumbled, turning away from your normal walk home.

“Where are you going? Your apartment is this way.”

“I’m going to my dad’s.” You replied, stopping to turn and face your friend. “I can’t be home, not right now. I could barely stomach to be in my own room last night. I stayed on my fire escape all night because I just couldn’t take it. It’s just all bitter, no sweet.”

“So you two broke up then?”

“We’re not on speaking terms.”

“You broke up.”

“No, I don’t think so… Just not talking right now.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I made a mistake.” You answered carefully. “And I’m having a problem trying to make things right. Last night, I probably made things worse.”

“What are you going to do about Liz’s party this weekend?”

“Not go?” You shrugged with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, MJ. Right now, I’m just trying to get through the day. And I had a fight with my mom last night about getting in trouble over the Flash thing so I’m really not in the mood for anything today. Sorry.”

“I get it.” She nodded slightly. “Just- Don’t beat yourself up too much, alright? Peter’s just an idiot. You two will figure it out.”

“Thanks, MJ… I’ll text you later.”

You rode in silence through the city to your dad’s tower. You showed the badge Tony had sent to your apartment, security ushering you in easily. You conversated with the head of security after he introduced himself. He said his name was Happy, and that he had known your dad for a long time. Happy took you to the floor where your dad was, saying that Tony’s lab and most of the Avengers were found on that floor.

You wandered around the massive space, soon finding a training room. There was a dumbbell rack against the far wall, a wall lined with full length mirrors. A weight bench was near it, next to a squat rack. There was a row of punching bags, an area on the floor set aside for partnered work. Various pads were piled by the ring, along with pairs of boxing gloves.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” A familiar voice said from behind you as you were kneeling to pick a pair of gloves.

“My mom is working late and I didn’t want to be home. She’s gonna pick me up when she gets off.” You answered, not wanting to turn and face him. You knew if you did, some sort of emotion would take over. But you were scared of which emotion it would be. Desperation? Anger? Fear? Pain? Loneliness?

“Are we okay?” He asked carefully, dropping his bag by the door and coming into the room. You watched his movements through the wall of mirrors, refusing to turn and face him.

That was always the thing with Peter. You two didn’t fight often. The Spiderman feud was probably the only real fight you two had ever had. But you had petty arguments every now and then. And once those arguments got to the silent treatment, one look from him and his big soft puppy dog brown eyes and you were melting back into him.

“There’s so much I want to say… So much I still haven’t said yet.” You replied slowly, picking your words intently. You knew you had to be careful with what you said. You were afraid that you would blow up and lose Peter. “But I’m lost, Peter. Things are different between us, and you can’t tell me it isn’t.”

“Not everything is different.” He offered a small, sincere smile. “I still love you.”

“The worst part about this is that it isn’t affecting you the same way it’s affecting me.” You laughed in disbelief. The words you had been holding in, hiding from everyone around you were bubbling over. The locked up feelings that you couldn’t verbalize were beginning to change into actions. You could feel the familiar twitch in your muscles, begging to release itself as quick and decisive blows. You turned to face Peter, dropping the gloves in your hands.

You let your feet move themselves, guiding your body closer to Peter. It felt like a magnet, pulling you to him. You knew you should’ve stopped. You should’ve planted yourself like a tree and refused to move. But it felt like it’d be right to be close to him, to trap yourself within the painted lines on the floor with him.

You realized you weren’t trying to just be close to Peter. You were closing in on Spiderman, the way you used to slowly stride closer to him before launching an offensive. You wanted to start a fight.

“Y/N, every night that I’m out, I swing by your apartment.” Peter explained, stepping closer to you. He was giving in to your movements, following your lead to close the distance, fully unaware of your subconscious intentions. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what last night.”

Once he was close enough, you threw a quick punch. Peter dodged it easily, catching your right hand with his left. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion while you squinted your eyes in determination. You urged yourself to forget, to bring yourself back to before you knew the identity of the bug-themed boy in spandex. You urged yourself to let your mind slip fully into Heretic’s mindset, the girl who knew how to release her pent up frustration. The girl who wasn’t dating a superhero.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked in surprise.

With a quiet tilt of your head, you reacted. You spun your wrist out of Peter’s grip, grabbing his arm and pulling him to you. While he was thrown off balance, you dropped to a knee and brought your elbow against the back of his knees. He groaned, falling to his knees. You kicked out to the side, knocking Peter flat on the ground.

Peter tried to process what was happening, but his brain kept telling him that he couldn’t hurt you. But the way you were moving, the intent you were moving with, it wasn’t a fight between Y/N and Peter. He recognized your movement pattern as a fight between Spiderman and Heretic. He took a second to compose himself, to allow himself to believe it was Heretic he was against.

He quickly jumped to his feet, trying to decide if he should fight back. Before he could make up his mind, you were coming at him with a calculated series of blows. Peter quickly blocked most of your hits. You ducked under his arm, connecting your elbow to the ghost of the bruise from where you had stabbed him previously.

He wobbled on his feet as he held his side, allowing you to charge again. Your mind was fuzzy, your muscles acting on their own. Soon, Peter was redirecting all of your attacks. He wasn’t blocking or fighting back, just sidestepping and avoiding. You dropped to sweep his legs, but he easily jumped over your foot. He landed in a low crouch, reaching over to push you. You quickly leaned into your palms, kicking your feet out.

Your feet connected with Peter’s chest, sending him rolling across the mat. You used the opportunity to jump to your feet. Peter turned to face you before shooting a web at your ankle and yanking your foot out from under you. You fell to your back, Peter quickly moving to pin your body down. He had his legs on either side of your hips and folded your arms against your chest.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Peter panted, slightly winded. 

You stared at him for a moment, noting the way the sweat made his curls stick to his forehead. His cheeks were slightly tinted pink and his chest noticeably rose and fell with his heavy breaths, both effects quickly fading back to a normal level. You chuckled lightly, pushing Peter off of you. He moved easily, not fighting to keep you pinned. You sat up on your elbows, tilting your head to look at him.

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You said plainly, working through the thick lump in your throat. “Maybe if you had told me before Tony came back into my life, this would’ve been different.”

You knew you had to have this conversation with Peter if you wanted to be able to move on. You wanted things to go back to normal with him, to be able to hang out and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. But now, it just felt like there was an elephant in the room. A big, fat elephant in the room wearing red and blue spandex. And even though you had tried this conversation last night, it didn’t work out well for you.

“I knew how you felt about superheroes.” He replied, his head hanging low. He was upset that he didn’t tell you sooner, but he also knew that you would react in a similar way. He didn’t know that you’d physically fight him over it, but he knew you’d lash out. “And the way you always talked about Mr. Stark and the Avengers… I didn’t want you to hate me too.”

“Peter, you know that I love you.” You sighed, crawling to sit across from him. You considered reaching out for his hand, but you decided against it. You had sent enough mixed messages when you put up the facade for school in the previous days. “Whether you’re a superhero or not, I still love you.”

“Then why did you just attack me?” He asked in shock, gesturing to the mat you two had just been fighting on.

“I don’t know!” You replied in the same tone. “I just- I’m trying to cope with everything still. I’m trying to pretend like everything is okay but it’s not. And this is the only way that I’ve figured out how to deal with things.”

“I didn’t want this to come between us.”

“That’s why I never told you about Heretic…” You explained slowly. You thought that maybe - just maybe - if you had confessed everything, put it all on the line, things could stabilize between you two. “I didn’t want the idea of me being the bad guy to drive you away. I didn’t think you’d understand what I was doing and why I was doing it.”

“I still don’t understand. You’re not the bad guy, Y/N, but...” He shook his head in silent frustration. “These tantrums been old. I can’t keep doing this.”

“You’re killing my vibe in ways words cannot describe. But I’ll try.” You paused, trying to plan your words before you said them. Last night, you let your words flow freely and you caused a rift between you and Peter. So now, you sat before him, silently pleading for him to forgive you. Maybe then you could forgive yourself. “I would take a bullet for you just to prove my love.”

“Only to find out you were the one holding the gun.” Peter scoffed. “Y/N, do you honestly think this hasn’t been bothering me?”

“How would I know?” You challenged simply. “You didn’t come to school today, so was I supposed to just know?”

“It's eight Mondays in a row, nine days of the week.” He replied, punctuating his words with a purposeful point to the ground. “Ever since you started ignoring me the first time, I haven’t been able to actually sleep, o-or focus. Everything reminds me of you, but you don’t even care.”

“I do care, Peter.”

“No, you don’t.” He chuckled in annoyance. Peter wanted to let the whole thing go, to forget that you were at odds and go back to the blissful ignorance of your relationship- back to a time when neither of you knew the other’s secrets. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Your relationship was changed forever, and now you two were faced with a challenge. Adapt or lose everything you two built. “If you actually cared, you’d come with me tonight. As Spiderman.”

You sat in front of your boyfriend, dumbstruck with his request. It seemed so simple. Spend time with Peter as Spiderman, learn to see them as the same entity instead of separate beings. How could you not see it before?

“And if I can’t do it?” You asked tightly, knowing that if you could barely stand the thought of Peter in the suit, it’d be even harder to spend the night with Peter in the suit.

“I saw something earlier, about how there’s good in the bad and bad in the good.” Peter explained, seemingly off topic.

“Yin and Yang.”

“They said there’s an ‘over’ in lover, ‘ex’ in next. But I think what hit hardest was the g-o-o-d in goodbye.”

“We’d break up, then…” You nodded slowly, realizing you were backed into a corner. “Looks like I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“I need you to need both, baby.” He said softly, consoling almost. He leaned over and took your hand, tugging it slightly in an effort to ask you to come closer. You gave in almost instantly. You crawled to sit beside him, to lean your head on his shoulder. His arm came around you as he held you close, as close as he could keep you. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, Peter.” You confirmed. The moment felt so normal, it made your head swim. “You won’t lose me.”

“Y/N?” You heard your dad calling from down the hall. “Where you at, kid? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“In here.” You replied, lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder to turn and look towards the door. You watched as your dad entered with Captain America and Black Widow.

Doesn’t look like you loved him enough, did you?

You jumped up in a panic, remembering your dream from your last class. A fresh, new wave of pain and regret coursed through your body. Regret flowed in your veins instead of blood, the desire to flee causing tension in your muscles. Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for another exit, any way to escape the suffocating pressure you felt closing in. Part of you knew that they weren’t going to lecture you - they wouldn’t turn against you - because they didn’t know you. They didn’t know anything about the situation, let alone know anything about you. But the irrational idea that your dream was some sort of prediction was hard to rid yourself of.

“Y/N, this is Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff.” Your dad introduced them.

“Uh, hi.” You said awkwardly.

“Not much for words, are you?” Natasha teased lightly.

“Yeah, guess not.” You chuckled nervously.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about it.” Steve offered kindly. “You’re Tony’s kid, which means your welcome here with open arms.”

“That’s really good to hear, Captain.” You nodded, the tight knot wound in your stomach gently unravelling. “And considering I’m on the outs with my mom, that’s really comforting.”

“What’s this about you and your mom?” Tony cut in, sliding in front of Steve and Natasha.

“Huh?” You played dumb.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N.”

“She got mad that I wasn’t home when she got home.” You waved your hand to dismiss his concern. You saw Natasha motion for Steve to follow her, not thinking they needed to be in the room for that conversation. She pointed at Peter for him to follow, but then shot a look of annoyance before the two left. You assumed Peter refused to leave. “She wasn’t happy that I got into a fight and then ran off like nothing happened.”

“Yeah, but nothing happened.”

“I know that. But she doesn’t. I don’t even care anyways.”

“Y/N-” Peter tried.

“No, I don’t.” You laughed. “She wants to blame me for getting in trouble when A) I didn’t start the fight. B) I didn’t actually hurt Flash, just his ego. And C) Morita was sending me home anyways. What does it matter where I actually went?”

“I get where you’re coming from.” Tony offered, continuing to speak even though you were gathering your stuff to leave the room. “Hey, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you, alright? You’re pissed at your mom? Fine. But you’re not gonna take it out on me.”

“It’s more than just Mom.” You shook your head. “Ask him.” You nodded towards Peter before leaving the room.

You were about halfway out the doorway when you felt a thread-like material wrap wound your wrist. You let your backpack fall from your shoulder on the opposite side while you turned on your heel. You wrapped some of the excess webbing around your hand as you faced Peter, his arm extended and his hand gripping his end of the webs. You glared at him in challenge, trying to gauge if he actually wanted to do it. When his gaze didn’t waver, you acted quickly.

You yanked Peter forward. You aided yourself by moving in close, spinning towards Peter with your left arm locked out, in essence clotheslining the boy. Peter fell to the floor on his back while you stood triumphantly, gently placing your foot on Peter’s chest.

“Seriously?” You mocked. “What were you trying to accomplish?”

“Quit it.” Your dad said, cutting Peter’s web. “Leave him alone, Y/N. He’s trying to help.”

“Yeah, everyone’s trynna do what’s best for me, right?” You scoffed, picking up your backpack on your way out.

You took the long walk home by yourself. You declined Happy’s offer to drive you home. You declined Steve’s offer to pay for a cab. You knew the walk would be about half an hour, maybe more. But it would give you time to think.

You knew Peter would show up on your fire escape tonight, covered head to toe in his suit. You knew that you would have to dig out your gear and if you had the time, repair the neurotransmitters for your knives. A small part deep in the back of your brain was excited, itching to wear the familiar spandex as you silently wandered your neighborhood. But a bigger part, a louder and more prominent part was smarter. It was telling you to call off the meet-up, to find an excuse to not go out.

Maybe you had to catch up on the notes you missed. Maybe your mom was cracking down on you since you were M.I.A. two days in a row. Maybe you were feeling sick. No, Peter wouldn’t believe any of it.

For what felt like the first time in your life, you felt truly afraid. You were scared that you wouldn’t be able to see Peter and Spiderman as the same person. It wasn’t an option to keep them segregated, to have such a deep love for Peter but turn around and despise Spiderman. You kept telling yourself that they were one and the same.

You had seen it with your own eyes. You saw Peter come to your room the night before, red and blue suit fitting snugly against his body. You watched him peel away the mask and let loose a bed of messy brown curls and wide, loving eyes. You saw Peter, in a simple pair of jeans and a nerdy t-shirt, move with the same specific agility and precision that Spiderman moved with. You saw the same moves, the same defensive strategies at play less than an hour ago.

You had ample evidence and memories etched into your brain to support the notion - to prove the notion - that Peter Parker, the boy you loved with your whole existence, the boy who you had given your heart to without hesitation, was the beloved local hero. Peter was Iron Man’s newest prodigy. He was Queens’ protector. Peter was Spiderman…

But could you be Heretic again? It seemed like the fiasco of alter egos kept unravelling new issues every day. It felt as if a mountain of issues was piling up in front of you, and if you pulled on the one you felt was the heaviest to deal with, the entire collection would topple over on top of you and suffocate you.

As you finally approached your apartment door, the sun was slipping behind the nearby buildings. Night was coming quickly, swallowing the time you had left as Y/N. Pushing the time you had to become Heretic upon you. You set your intentions on your bedroom as you entered your home. You quickly reheated your dinner and took it to your room, refusing to utter a word to your mom.

“How was school?” She tried, to which you huffed in response. “Did you go to your dad’s after school or were you at Peter’s?”

The only response was the microwave beeping.

“I know you’re upset about last night, but I don’t think it was right for you to run off with Tony when you were sent home from school… But I do have to admit, I am glad you two are getting along so well.”

“Mhmm.” You acknowledged, a lift to your eyebrows displaying your disbelief in the subject. You carried the hot plate to your room and locked the door behind you.

You knew it wasn’t fair to be so angry with your mother. But with everything going on at that moment, you felt like you wanted to be mad at everyone. You couldn’t even let yourself be - admittedly - starstruck by meeting Captain America because you were upset about what your own mind produced. You hesitated by your door, considering heading back out and apologizing. But the dimming sunlight outside your window and the heat spreading from your dinner to your fingers reminded you of what you were intended to be doing.

You picked at your dinner while you worked to repair the neurotransmitters. You didn’t know what Peter had in mind when he asked you to meet with him, but you knew what the streets of New York could hold, the danger that she kept tucked in alleyways and prowled on dimly lit avenues. You knew you had to be prepared for anything, and since you wouldn’t have your serums to give yourself added protection, you needed to have your knives at the ready.

It was a few hours before you had completed the repairs with the stashed parts in one of your desk drawers. You unlocked your window before changing into your familiar spandex suit. You tugged on your boots, treading silently across your room. You pulled your hair up into a tight ponytail, pulling a couple strands to frame your face. You tossed your mask on your messy bed while you busied yourself at your desk, copying the notes that MJ had sent you.

meech🤔🙄: hey loser. heres the notes you missed. meech🤔🙄: quit screwing around and handle your issues with the other loser. i dont want to see you spiral cause a scrawny nerd

You hadn’t heard Peter crawl through your window, being that you had your music playing on your computer. His light tap on your shoulder caused you to jump and turn aggressively in the chair. Luckily, he was there to catch you so you didn’t tumble to the floor.

“Hey.” He said simply. Even though he had his mask on, you knew he was smiling. You heard it in his voice.

“Wow, guess I fell for you again.” You joked instantly, patting his chest lightly as you hauled yourself to your feet. “So, what’s the plan for tonight, Spiderman?”

“You’re really gonna come with me tonight?” He wanted to confirm. One thing you could always count on was Peter’s double-checking.

“No, these are my new skin-tight spandex pajamas.” You laughed lightly, side-stepping him to collect your knives from your bed, along with your mask. “Peter, I know these past couple days have been terrible. And I know it’s mostly been my fault.”

“Baby, no.” He said softly, reaching for your glove covered hand with his own. You couldn’t physically feel his fingers around yours, but you felt the pressure of a gentle squeeze and the slight texture of his suit against your exposed fingertips. “I’m as much at fault as you are.” Your eyebrows raised in amusement as you paused placing your mask on your face. “I didn’t mean it like that!” Peter immediately backtracked. 

“We’ve been together for a long time, hon. I know what you meant.” You shook your head in amusement before hiding behind your mask. “You can keep going, by the way. I like where that was headed.”

“All I’m saying is that I could’ve done a little more. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.” Peter admitted, headed towards the window with a gentle grip on your hand still. “You are… everything to me.”

A huge smile broke across your face. You had never thought that hearing words Peter had told you a million times over would give you such butterflies, such a tingling feeling across your body. Hearing it come from Peter, but seeing it come from Spiderman, it helped you bridge the gap between the boy you adored and the persona that you despised.

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” You asked again as you two climbed out of your window to your fire escape. “Usually I just kinda wander around until I run into you.”

“You ever wondered what it’s like to swing?” He offered, the sound of a smirk dancing in his voice.

“You’re kidding.” You smiled nervously.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, climbing to stand on the railing of your fire escape and holding his hand out for you. The entire scene reminded you of the Disney movie, Aladdin.

“Yes?” You replied carefully, reaching for his hand. You climbed to the railing, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly. “If I die-”

“You’re not gonna die.” Peter laughed.

“If I die-” You continued pointedly. “-don’t let Flash come to my funeral.”

You closed your eyes tightly, burying your face into the crook of Peter’s neck. You locked your hands together, clinging desperately to Peter. Once you felt your feet leave the railing, a small squeal left your lips. You considered wrapping your legs around Peter’s waist for bonus security, but you abstained, worried it would interfere with Peter’s swinging.

You wanted to take a peek and see where you two were headed, but the wind burn on your face kept your eyes shut. You eventually felt the sharp sting of the cool air stop. The deep woosh in your ears had silenced, but it took a moment for your head to stop spinning.

Peter’s arm around your waist relaxed slightly to a lazy drape. Carefully, your feet felt the solid ground beneath but your arms remained locked around Peter. The swirling feeling in your head subsided, your mind settled slowly to allow your body to find its balance. You carefully opened your eyes, finding you and Peter atop a tall building with a familiar skyline.

“Is this your apartment building?” You asked slowly, taking in the new angle of the familiar view.

“Yeah..” He said gently, as if he was admiring the view as well. “I didn’t really want to do anything tonight… I just wanted to be with you.”

“Y’know, last time I was here with you, I threw you off the roof… I didn’t get to actually take in the view.”

“I forgot about that.” He laughed gently.

“I never said sorry for that, by the way.” You said awkwardly.

What you didn’t see was that Peter was admiring the view, only he wasn’t looking at the skyline. Peter’s eyes were trained on you, feeling as if he was seeing you for the first time. Peter was dumbstruck. How could you become even more beautiful?

Maybe it was the wind blown look of your hair. The pink tint of your cheeks and nose due to the wind burn. Maybe it was the wide, soft look in your eyes. The adoring smile you offered. Maybe it was the way you clung to his body even though you were completely safe. He felt your hands release themselves, one of them slid from across his shoulders to hang lazily against his chest. The ghost of your hand left a tingling warmth across his skin under his suit. Even though there was no skin to skin contact, he had missed your touch more than he had realized.

“I love you.” He said so quietly he barely heard his own voice.

“I love you too, Peter.” You replied, turning under his arm to face him. You took a small step to the side so you could stand in front of him fully. You slid the hand from his chest back up to his shoulder and up his neck. “Can I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” He tilted his head with his words, his signature move when he was a little cocky. He leaned in slightly before pulling back quickly and removing his mask. “Almost forgot.”

You paused for a millisecond, recognizing something incredible. You didn’t shy away from the kiss with his mask on. Yes, it would’ve been strange to kiss his mask and not him. But you didn’t think of it as kissing Spiderman. Your mind registered it as Peter with a mask on.

It was just Peter with a mask on.

You smiled widely from your revelation, leaning into his lips eagerly. Your hands easily slid up his neck, the feeling suit disappearing under your exposed fingertips and fading into his warm, soft skin. You felt the tousled texture of his hair, the slightly damp mess of curls that your digits were so used to being tangled in.

When you pulled away for a breath, you noted the dopey smile on your boyfriend’s face. You tilted your head back to let out an honest laugh, the realest laugh you had released since you had learned your boyfriend’s secret.

“This is amazing, Pete.” You said gently, your fingers dancing small circles on the nape of his neck. “I can’t believe you get to do this every night. I can see why you never answer me after eleven.” You joked.

“You’re in a good mood tonight.” He offered a small, content smile as he spoke. “So I guess Spiderman isn’t all that bad, is he?”

“Well, Spiderman did just try to kill me…” You teased, tilting your head side to side as if mulling over the thought, to which he scoffed in response. “But the guy under the mask is actually pretty great.”

“Y’know, if you want, I’m sure Mr. Stark would give you an internship like mine.”

“I don’t know about all that yet.” You shut down the thought almost immediately. “But I don’t think it’ll be as hard for me to see you and Spiderman as the same person anymore.”

“That’s all I wanted.” He sighed in relief.

“I owe you an apology, Peter.” You admitted with a heavy sigh. “It’s the least you deserve.”

“No, you-” He tried.

“Let me say this. Please.” You tried, offering Peter a pleading look. He nodded slightly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “I reacted out of fear, out of anger and- and pain. And I know that’s not an excuse, but I didn’t know how to cope with everything. The entirety of my world had flipped in the matter of minutes. Less than one hour changed my family dynamic and my dynamic with you. You are a huge part of my life, and if I lost you - especially over something so temporary - over feelings so blown out of proportions. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself. I couldn’t even sleep last night when you left. And then you weren’t at school and I- I thought it was my fault. I thought I chased you away and I had lost you.”

You felt a gentle thumb drag across your cheek and you realized you had begun to cry. Silent, warm tears had started to fall slowly down your face, and the sight was almost enough to move Peter to tears of his own. He offered you a sad, understanding smile. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing to let your mind root yourself in that moment.

He knew it was hard for you to admit everything you were saying. He knew you were never the most open of books, not even with him. You told him everything - almost everything. And now, here you were, with the New York skyline setting the scene behind you. The constant sounds of the city’s streets filling the silence between your words, the heavy movements of your chest as you tried to maintain your semblance of calm. Peter felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, a tingling feeling. Almost like butterflies. 

It felt like the first date all over again. 

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I absolutely adore you. And I want you in my life, no matter what you’re wearing.” You laughed nervously. “I love you, Peter Parker. And I need you.”

“You need me?” He teased lightly, wiggling his eyebrows in suggestion.

“I need you, Peter.” You nodded with a smile. “And I need you as Spiderman, too.”

Peter threw his head back with a wide grin. He let out a dramatically long sigh of relief before he faced you again. “I’m so glad you said that.”

“How long are we going to be out tonight?” You asked. The adrenaline of swinging with Peter was draining from your system and you could feel your body inching towards a crash. The lack of sleep from the night before probably wasn’t helping your case.

“You wanna come in?” He offered, leading you to the side of the building that would eventually lead to Peter’s window. “I know you’re tired.”

You nodded tiredly, mumbling how you’d have to explain it to your mom in the morning. Peter hopped over the ledge so he could offer you his hand and help you climb the fire escapes. He stayed in front of you, walking down sideways so he could keep any eye on you. His hand was locked around yours as you two treaded the metal steps that would eventually take you to his bedroom.

[justphilia]

Lactose Tolerance (Terumob, 2k)

Based on this post I made a while back.

Shigeo has a special way of enjoying milk, and after some upsetting incidents, he starts drinking chocolate milk more, aka his comfort drink whenever he’s sad. Teru mistakes this as Shigeo’s favorite flavor and even after Shigeo’s done feeling sad, he’s still serving it to Shigeo.

Now on ao3 because I still worry that I didn’t italisize some stuff,,,

Shigeo loves milk. Everybody knows that, there isn’t a time or day you wouldn’t see him drinking a glass of milk at home or a carton of milk at school. But what they don’t know is that Shigeo has a systematic way of drinking his milk, specifically the flavor of it. Nobody notices it, since the way he does it is so subtle, it never crosses their mind. 

It’s pretty simple. Regular for normal days, strawberry for particularly happy ones, and chocolate for days that aren’t so glam. His facial expressions barely change whenever he drinks a specific flavor, so it isn’t easy to tell that his feelings are correlated to the milk he drinks. Not even Ritsu knows about it.

Recently, Shigeo had started to drink more chocolate milk than usual. It wasn’t a surprise on his part, since the past few months had been pretty rough. Mogami Land, nearly losing Reigen, World Domination, and The Incident had left Shigeo feeling rather gloomy lately. Despite this, nobody has connected the dots yet, nobody but Teru.

Or so Shigeo thinks. 

“I have chocolate milk in the fridge if you want some,” Teru says after stepping inside his apartment with Shigeo, who lights up at the mention of chocolate milk. Teru inwardly praises himself and outwardly smiles, he so badly wants to tell Shigeo that, ‘Oh, I’ve noticed that chocolate seems to be your favorite flavor, ha ha.’ but it just sounded so creepy in a way that Teru decides against it. The last thing he wants Shigeo to think of him as is a stalkerish boy that takes note of the smallest, most insignificant things.

Of course, nothing about Shigeo is small or insignificant, but Teru wants to play it safe. Just in case.

Receiving the cup of chocolate milk, Shigeo feels his cheeks grow warm, because although Ritsu has done the same to him before, this was something different. Teru gave him chocolate milk right when Shigeo started feeling terrible since last week, it’s so perfectly time, there’s no way Teru doesn’t know about his milk flavor system. It’s so sweet of the blonde to notice things like these that seem so stupid to Shigeo. 

“Thank you, Hanazawa, you’re wonderful,” Shigeo smiles after taking a surprisingly large gulp that shocks Teru, just a bit.

Teru blushes, flicking his hair back to hide his embarrassment with charm, “Of course I am!”

This became a constant routine for them, where Teru would get Shigeo chocolate milk whenever he could, and then Shigeo would feel his heart soar more and more whenever he does. It feels dumb, falling in deeper love with someone just because they managed to guess a deep secret of his. Perhaps the comfort of drinking chocolate milk managed to seep into his feelings for Teru, making it grow stronger. Like water to a little sapling. 

Whatever the case is, Shigeo’s glad to have Teru as a friend, and maybe they could be something more if this went on long enough.

This is going, possibly, too long.

It’s not like Shigeo stopped liking Teru just because the blonde was starting to give him too much chocolate milk, but it was starting to get pretty tiring and unnecessary. Shigeo stopped feeling bad ages ago, thanks to Teru being there for him, but it took a while for Shigeo to notice that Teru was still giving him chocolate milk regardless of how Shigeo felt on those days.

He’s beginning to question if Teru knew about his habit at all, and if this had been a funny misunderstanding from the start. 

“Shigeo?” Teru tilts his head into the raven’s view and the other blinks, noticing the carton of -you guessed it- chocolate milk in his hand. 

Shigeo smiles, though very awkwardly, and politely takes the carton from Teru. His friend takes a seat beside him on the park bench, it’s a pretty sunny day and Shigeo would’ve much preferred to have a carton of strawberry milk instead. But he’s afraid to upset Teru, so he says nothing.

“Is something bothering you?” Teru asks, noticing the uneasiness from Shigeo’s hunched over shoulders and soft grip on his carton of milk, as if the shorter boy wouldn’t mind dropping it to the ground right now. 

Honestly, yes, something is bothering Shigeo, but he doesn’t want to tell Teru because that would make Teru feel upset, and the last thing Shigeo needs is one more upset person. You see, due to the fact that chocolate milk is associated with feelings such as contempt and frustration, drinking it when he isn’t feeling those feelings would just make him feel those feelings. If that makes sense.

And if this really is a misunderstanding, if Teru really didn’t know about his habit from the start, then Shigeo would have to go through the embarrassment of explaining it. That’s just too awkward! Too much for him!

So with that, Shigeo only smiles, because lately he’s been learning how to do that properly, “I’m fine, thank you for the milk.”

Teru smiles back, a small blush dusting his cheeks. Shigeo was never great at lying, but Teru’s patient enough to wait. For now he could only help in the smallest ways, like providing chocolate milk.

Chocolate milk.

Don’t tell me… Teru’s smile threatens to drop at the sudden realization. Don’t tell me he’s sick of chocolate milk because of me. 

He panics just like that, almost running both his hands into his blonde locks and only barely manages to suppress a yell. There’s no way Teru could’ve ruined the milk experience for Shigeo, but the evidence was there and it’s only started to click into place.

Way to go dumbass! Teru’s hand curls against his lap. But just to be sure, I’ll watch him carefully right now. 

One thing about Teru is the fact that he sucks at being subtle, everything about him is over the top, so whenever he’s struggling to keep down his inner bursting feelings, it looks like he’s about to explode on the outside. Shigeo takes note of this, biting the straw of his milk.

Oh no, Teru’s upset. Did he find out? Shigeo sips quietly, breaking into cold sweat. His plan had completely backfired, what should he do? “Ah, Teru, I’ve been meaning to say this…” Shigeo suddenly speaks out of nowhere, no plan in mind, and completely winging this from sheer panic.

Oh here it comes, rest in peace, I wish to have Shigeo’s favorite flowers at my funeral. Teru nearly weeps, a little overdramatic, but that’s how Teru is sometimes and that’s how he’ll always be. “Mhm?”

“Thank you, for...being my friend. Not a lot of people...notices that...I like...milk,” that’s a lie, everyone knows he likes milk. “Especially...um...chocolate.” Nailed it. Hopefully it’s convincing enough, with the way he looks now and the way he phrased it, there’s no way Teru would know if he’s lying.

Teru blinks and Shigeo holds his breath, mouth not leaving the straw of his milk. Was it too much? Too out of place?

“You’re welcome!” Teru brightens up, smiling so wide it almost blinds Shigeo, or maybe it’s the fact that a huge wave of relief had washed over him that made him feel this breathless. “Honestly, I was a little worried that I might’ve made you hate chocolate milk. Silly right?”

Shigeo hums, just for the sake of acknowledging Teru. Fantastic, now to find a way out of this without hurting Teru’s feelings.

Funnily enough, that opportunity came up two days after that ordeal. It was one of those rare days where both Shigeo and Teru were present in Spirits and Such, just to hang around in Reigen’s office and catch up.

Reigen prides himself in being an excellent people reader, mostly because he’s the only one that knows about Shigeo’s milk habit, which seemed so blatantly obvious it makes Reigen laugh out loud sometimes. He didn’t tell Shigeo he knew of course, he never got around to saying it, so it never came up until today.

Seeing Shigeo drinking chocolate milk had shocked Reigen a little, because even though he isn’t as close with Shigeo as he was before, he still keeps up with Shigeo’s mood status, and as far as Reigen knows, Shigeo’s perfectly fine. So there’s no reason why Shigeo should be drinking his comfort beverage.

No harm in checking with Shigeo though, so the man gets up from his desk and walks over to the couches where the two boys are chatting. He squats down, getting down to Shigeo’s eye level, and very seriously asks, “Are you okay?”

“...Yes.” Shigeo answers, extremely bemused with the sudden question.

“Mob, you’re drinking chocolate,” Reigen says, growing more worried. He hopes that Shigeo isn’t lying.

“I--” Shigeo starts, but Teru cuts in, confusion written all over his face.

“What’s that gotta do with his feelings?” Teru says, his past worry about accidentally making Shigeo sick of chocolate suddenly comes back to him as quickly as it had gone away that day. 

Shigeo sighs, placing the carton down at last, and he uncomfortably rubs his arms, “So you really were mistaken from the start…”

“Mistaken?” Teru didn’t think he could be more confused than before, but here he is, completely lost and in the dark, and feeling rather stupid. 

“Uhm,” Shigeo squirms, his face going from a light cheerful pink to a bright embarrassed red. He mumbles something, which neither of the other two could catch. 

“Sorry?”

“I...I have this thing,” Shigeo finally starts, a note too high and a tad bit too loud. “I drink milk...depending on how...I feel…on...the...day…” He trails off, realizing how dumb it sounds out loud. “I’m sorry...for lying to you...I promise I wasn’t trying to be mean…”

Reigen watches as Teru stands up, waving his hands around before gripping Shigeo’s hands, holding them tight, “I’m the one that’s supposed to be sorry! Oh goodness, I can’t believe...I’m sorry I got it all wrong from the start, tell me what I’ve been doing wrong, please.”

Shigeo blinks, wide eyed and very surprised at the sudden outburst, and he’s pretty sure his hands are pretty gross and sweaty from all that embarrassment. “I drink chocolate only when I’m sad. But I’m not sad anymore, and it makes me sad when...I drink it when I’m not sad. Does...that make sense?”

“Of course it does, definitely, I understand. I’m sorry again. What milk do you want to drink? Or maybe you don’t want milk anymore? I can finish your milk...AH! NO THAT’S STUPID, HA HA, IGNORE THAT!” Teru flushes, the thought of an indirect kiss practically has him melting on the spot.

“No, it’s okay, you can have it,” Shigeo says, fingers wiggling in Teru’s grasp. “I’d...really like strawberry, actually. Because, um, it’s my...happy drink, and you make me happy...so…” Words. How does Reigen do it? How does he say so much without missing a beat? Speaking of Reigen, he’s been awfully quiet.

Reigen isn’t bored per se, but he thinks he should probably leave the conversation before he becomes the third wheel. Guess all they needed was a good push into the right path. Way to go, Reigen, you’re doing great as a parental figure.

Teru’s actually melting, not literally of course, but with the way he’s sweating, he might as well be. “I make you happy?”

“Yes?” Shigeo softly replies, not sure what to do with the fact that his friend is probably going to faint on the spot.

“Go out with me.”

“Huh?”

“I MEAN GO OUT WITH ME TO GET YOU STRAWBERRY MILK!” Teru is screaming at this point. Oh god what a mess.

“Like a date?” Shigeo slowly says, taking Teru’s first sentence into account since Shigeo could perfectly hear Teru. 

“Y-Yes!”

Shigeo’s not sure whose heart is beating louder, his or Teru’s. He has the feeling it’s Teru, with the way he is right now. “Okay then, let’s go. Here, my chocolate milk.”

“Thank you! Yes let’s...Bye, Reigen!” Teru takes the milk and basically drags Shigeo towards the door. “Thanks for your help!”

The door slams shut and Reigen’s yet again left in an empty office, and he wishes Serizawa was here to keep him company. “Help with what though? All I did was ask a question about milk.” He says to the open air.

[the-sara-voe]

Chapter 4: A Familiar Face

Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of bodily trauma and dead bodies.

Masterlist

"Look, I love Kobe, what a legend, but Dwight Howard-"

"Stop", Alvez orders, gesturing to Sena, "You can't compare Kobe to Howard, it's like comparing an apple to a carrot".

"No! Hear me ou-"

"No".

Tusa struts into the conference room, pursing her lips and furring her brows at the debate, "What are you two doing"?

"She is trying to compare Bryant to Howard", Alvez stated, "Which you can't. They don't even play the same position. And they had a long-standing feud".

Sena's voice becomes full of defense, "First of all, yes they did not play the same position. Second, it was not a feud, it was more of a sibling rivalry. But what I am saying is Howard had and still has the potential to be as good as Kobe. If Howard just got on a team that kept him long enough for him to get comfortable he would be great".

The two of them kept bickering, while Tusa says under her breath, "I don't get basketball".

"What was that about basketball"? Reid said, taking his seat at the table.

Luke and Sena told Reid their stances, prompting him to say, "Actually Luke, I think I agree with Sena. Howard has been traded or drafted to several teams, probably making him lose a sense of self-control. Loss of self-control correlates to ego deprivation, which decreases performance and impacts response to other motivational conflicts, like disputes with teammates. Couple that with most professional sports players being alpha male personalities, and that testosterone increases during physical activity, disagreement is bound to happen".

Luke and Sena stare at Reid, watching as he takes a sip from his water bottle, "Also, Howard's efficiency score is only about one-point-zero-seven points lower than Kobe Bryant's, and he may still have some time to raise it. If Howard can gain more self-control and get longer contracts, he would probably be just as successful as Kobe".

Byun glances at a frustrated Luke, proceeding to taunt him. Tusa shakes her head while she pours herself some coffee. She felt a tap on her elbow, turning to see Reid leaning back in his seat, looking at her.

"What does the case look like"? Spencer asked, flicking his pen between his fingers.  His hair is tightly woven around itself, and pokes up in various directions.

"Unnerving, as usual", she said, shooting him a bemused glance. She asks "You forget to brush your hair this morning"?

Reid adjusts his position, nervously running his fingers through it to subdue its appearance. He turns back and asks, “Is it better”?

"I’m giving you a crap Reid you look fine", she answered, chuckling, “Get some more sleep though, yeah”?

He nods as Rossi and Prentiss walk into the room with Simmons, prompting everyone to settle in. As Rossi pulls out his chair, Prentiss goes to speak.

"I have an announcement to make before we get to the case", Emily started, fiddling with her fingernails, jagged from being bitten. She looks around the room at her teammates, who have become family to her. Despite the heaviness in her chest, she has a lightness in her eyes. She is ready.

"I am resigning; soon".

The air in the room fills with multiple emotions. Some joyful, some upset, some anxious. But the most overwhelming of all is confusion.

"Why"? Byun posed, a bit glum.

"Because I was offered an amazing position", Prentiss admitted, sharing a heartfelt smile with Sena.

Prentiss shrugs before saying, "I have been offered to be the Director of the FBI", she pauses, finalizing in a sigh, "Please don't take it personally, I love you all so much".

"Emily this is incredible" Simmons announced, opening his arms in celebration, "Don't apologize, we're proud of you"!

The whole group stands from the table, heading toward Emily to embrace her in a hug, until she spouts, "No, no. We can do the 'goodbye' at Rossi's at the end of the month. I am still here for a few weeks. No sad faces, especially for your new Chief".

"Wait they're here"? Reid quizzed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants.

"Yes, and something tells me you'll like them", Emily said, glancing toward the hallway opening behind her.

The heaviness of the steps increases the team's anticipation. Everyone stares at the doorway, the clunking becoming louder. As the heels stall, the guest's figure fills the door frame. The man wore a black suit and a striped tie, well-tailored and ironed. Their hair is longer than some of them remember, but the smile they wore remains familiar.

"Hotch"! Reid announced, gleefully darting to Aaron Hotchner and embracing him in a hug.

Rossi and Prentiss chuckle, grinning at Spencer's reaction. However, the four of them are enjoying the reunion so much, they forget there are two faces that don't recognize Aaron.

"Hotch, this is our Tech Analyst, Tusajigwe Selemani", Rossi states, as Tusa and Aaron shake hands.

"Call me Tusa, sir".

"I have heard about you through colleagues of mine at the DA", Hotcher informs, releasing his hand from hers.

"You have"? She replied, with a tinge of wariness.

Aaron releases a nervous laugh before saying, "Yes. Only good things, you make quite a first impression, apparently".

Tusa relaxes into the atmosphere of the room. Hotchner, Simmons, and Alvez greet each other again, the last time seeing each other being Gracia's goodbye party. After some catch-up, Byun clears her throat, clearly a bit apprehensive.

Emily notices Sena's discomfort and says, "Oh, Hotch this is SSA Sena Byun. She specializes in crime scene analysis".

"You were a CSI"? Aaron posed.

Sena adjusts her forearms, leaning them on the round table, stating, "In Houston, yeah".

"Did you work on the Ackles Case"?

"I took 'em down".

Aaron cocks his head and furrows his brows, reminding her, "CSI's don't arrest suspects, usually".

Sena looks up at the man, nodding her head with pride. "Yes", she said.

Hotchner gave Prentiss an inquisitive look, suspecting that she hired Byun. Sena has the same ridiculous ambition as Emily.

"Alright, I don't want to rush us, but we do have a new case", Tusa announces, taking the front of the room.

After a few clicks of the remote, images appear on the monitor. Wrists and ankles have lines of navy and a band of blue spans across the stomaches of these two women. The fabric had grasped so much blood, their shirts and the sleep bags they rest in were indiscernible. Perhaps most frightening, however, lies under the stained fabric. Though the details are thin, it is not hard to decipher the cause of death. Hidden under the shirts, no more than a centimeter thick, are gaping holes in the stomach of the victims.

Tusa, clears her throat before speaking, "These two women are Romana Marckus, age 23, and Daniella Cortez, age 25. Romana was found four days ago, and Daniella just two days ago. Both of them were found in alleyways in Houston. It appears that the girls experienced blunt force trauma to the head, were bound, and inevitably...stabbed to death".

Sena scrolls through her tablet, a wise whistle leaving her lips, "Hometown, you once again do not disappoint".

"They were dumped in sleeping bags"? Rossi asked, scrolling through the photos on his tablet.

"Yes sir, they were. Local police believe that the bodies sat in the alleyways for about a week", Tusa recounted.

Reid stared up at the screen, saying, "The public may have just assumed that the bodies were homeless people".

"Oh how delicious", Byun stated, jerking her face away from her tablet, and sliding it across the table.

"Are the women connected in another way aside from that they're both brunettes"? Simmons asked.

"No, not really. Houston PD determined that they were both going to college. Marckus at the University of Texas , but Daniella was a student at Berkeley".

"That's quite a distance for her", Luke stated.

"Her trip was planned, someone knows about her whereabouts before she died. Have next of kin been contacted"? Hotchner asked, earning an overseeing gaze from Sena.

"Yes, they are flying down today", Tusa finalized.

"Aaron join us on this if you don't mind", Prentiss informs, "Let's get down there, wheels up in twenty".

[rev-krissy]

ConCon here! My day has been nice :) I got some oatmeal cookies from the store. They're a little weak but still tasty, so it was worth it.

Reading about your experiences... It's dumb that people can be so mean. It sucks. I like to think that people are inherently good, but those sorts of prejudices and the like aren't born into someone, they're trained. It makes me wonder how long, if ever, it will take for us to move on to a more open, accepting world.

My parents have those sorts of prejudices and they instilled them into me. I never outright was mean to somebody in that sort of way, but I was quite confused a lot and it was upsetting to think that I might be gay. (Turns out I'm asexual, probably, which I'll come back to in a bit.)

Since I started learning more about myself and how I differ from others, I've taken steps to try to revert those teachings. It'd be kind of hard to dislike the very thing I've been taught to find unnatural, wouldn't it? Not a good recipe for self love.

Anyways, when I started realizing I wasn't like the other people I grew up around, I started thinking about how I was different. That led me to labeling myself as ace, which is by definition a lack of sexual attraction. Something I've learned from the communities I've dipped my toes into is that its difficult to describe a lack of something. People outside the communities often say "if you've felt this way, you would definitely know."

When I take a step back and hear the, "you just haven't met the right person yet," or the "you'll want kids someday," or "you're not gay, you're too young to know that"... Well, its annoying.

Anyway, uh, my point with the asexuality is that its a lack of something. I feel the same about my gender. Not sure if its because of self esteem issues or just a lack of caring, but I just haven't ever thought about it. Your second statement about not identifying or caring about being any particular gender resonates with me.

Like with my sexuality, I've never experienced the... "rush," so to speak, of having... those sorts of feelings or what I suppose might be called gender euphoria. I certainly present female, with my long hair, jewlery, and painted nails, but I do these things because I like to do them and they're habitual, not because they make me feel any particularly giddiness about myself.

Idk. I'm not sure if there's a correlation between low self esteem and lack of gender feelings, which makes my position a bit more confusing.

Not sure how to end this so uh, thank you for your first reply! It's been a bit thought provoking for me.

— ConCon

ConCon,

Glad you had a good day!

It’s rainy and gray and not very warm here today and that just makes me want a nap.

From my perspective, things HAVE gotten better since my childhood in the 1970’s and youth in the 80’s just in terms of availability of information, language for feelings we had no way to label in the 70’s, support networks, and connection to others with similar feelings. I think there is less hate and fear, but it’s louder and more public, if that makes sense.

The description that resonated with you is a definition of Gender Apathetic and that certainly fits with your description of your experience. @genderfluidsupport has a pretty good list of genders with definitions that I used with my spouse when I realized that she was never saying “I don’t understand your gender” but rather “I don’t understand gender.”

The only way to know for sure if lack of gender feels is tied to self esteem is to work on building that esteem and observe for changes in feeling OR experiment with gender presentation (if you are safe to do so) and see if the esteem level changes.

Next homework, list the things you are good at and the things you like about yourself, then try to list things people praise or compliment you for without judging if they are true (no brushing off the compliments)... meditate on those things for awhile and if you journal, write about your skills/gifts and how they make you feel.

For example: You might say, “I’m am excellent cook. People like to eat my food and they compliment my cooking skills. This makes me feel loved. I also feel loving to be able feed people I care about with food that tastes good and is good for them. My cooking increases the total sum of love and joy in the universe and that is great!!”

Learning to love ourselves is vital. If you come from one of the Abrahamic faiths you will be familiar with the command to “love your neighbor AS yourself.” This commandment cannot be fulfilled properly unless you love yourself - not giant ego, “I’m god’s gift” crap, but, I value myself and want what’s best for my well-being; because that is the kind of love we are to offer others, “I want what’s best for you, life abundant, justice, and shalom...

You are made of star stuff and awesome and you deserve to feel good about yourself. Sometimes that takes therapy, but sometimes it just takes effort, know that you are worth the effort!

Hugs,

Krissy

[tinywooniverse]

ease my mind

requested?: nope!

pairing: park sungjin x reader

genre: domestic fluff :/ established relationship

summary: your mind runs a mile a minute. luckily sungjin is there to slow you down

warnings: none really. oc has problems kind of

a/n: this is a part of the ‘sing to me instead’ series which is a series based on the music from the album ‘sing to me instead’ by ben platt. every member has will have two stories that correlate with their respective songs. the song for this one is called ease my mind.

you swing your legs off of the bed and check the time on your phone.

5:30 AM

far from the time you needed to actually be ready for your day but you couldn’t allow yourself to sleep a wink. sleeping late and waking early was your speciality. at this point your sleeping schedule is so worrying that not even you are sure how you’re up and functioning everyday.

you look back to see a peacefully sleeping sungjin curled up. you would kiss him a thousand and two times if you weren’t so afraid of waking him.

you sigh, quietly getting up and leaving the room. since your body wouldn’t let you sleep anymore than you already had it looked like you’d be running off of caffeine and the hopes of seeing your beautiful boyfriend when you got home today.

you quietly wait for your coffee to get done and that’s when everything sets in. your chest feels extra heavy now that you’re watching the light pour into your living room windows.

what’s wrong with me? why-

before you could even finish your thought your coffeemaker signals that it’s finally done and you pour yourself a cup sitting at your small dining area, wallowing in your dreadful thoughts. you don’t even know what they’re so prominent for anymore. your life is great. you aren’t necessarily having the toughest time socializing by any means. your job is going well. you and sungjin are completely fine and totally in love. what was so wrong that it caused you to stress like this. impending doom just takes over and doesn’t know when enough is enough.

sungjin feels around in bed for you and, much to his dismay, you are nowhere to be found.

he sits up rubbing his eyes to get a clearer view of your shared room to see no sight of you, the only things showing that your were still home being your phone on the nightstand and your jacket hanging off of your desk chair.

he sets off to find you and in doing so he ends up in the kitchen watching you staring blankly into your cup of coffee.

“why are you up?” he asks, breaking your gaze from your coffee to him. frankly, he had startled you but you knew he wouldn’t stay in bed much longer without you there. he had a habit of getting really clingy in his sleep and when you weren’t there he had trouble slipping into and/or staying in a sweet slumber.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “my body told me it was time to get up i guess.”

“at six in the morning?”

“at 5:30.” you say slightly giggling. he looks at you softly and sits across from you, taking your hands into his own.

“is there something wrong? i checked your schedule for today and you don’t have anywhere to be until later this evening and yet you’re sitting here drinking coffee at six in the morning as if you have to be somewhere soon.” he analyzes the situation and regurgitates it back to you in the form of words and all you could do was look back at him with tired eyes. he knew you all too well.

“come on y/n please come back to bed. i need my teddy bear to sleep.” he pouts and you get up leaving your coffee on the table, going back to bed.

he gets in right after you and envelopes you.

“everything’s gonna be okay you know? i know everything probably feels like it’s gonna fall apart around you but i promise you it will all be just fine. i’m here for you no matter what.” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, squeezing you a little tighter.

————————————

here you are. yet again showing your super special power of somehow sleeping late and waking early.

it was currently two in the morning and you were up laying in bed, staring at the ceiling thinking about the most minuscule things. most of them being about your boyfriend.

he’d been busy with his comeback and promotions and as happy as you’d been for him, you had also had a very tiny nitpicking feeling that you couldn’t shake.

is he doing alright? is he drinking enough water? are any of the boys straining their voices? they better not be i swear to bejebus.

these thoughts usually turn into very menacing ones for no reason whatsoever at some point in the night.

i wonder what sungjin‘s up to? i wonder if he saw the pretty mydays and forgot about me? i wonder-

your thoughts are cut off by a body laying across yours. you peek down to see your lover boy staring right back at you with starry eyes and a gigantic smile and everything you’ve been thinking about is long forgotten.

“babe i missed you so much i couldn’t wait to get home,” he says excitedly, “i even skipped out on the plans i had with the guys because i wanted to see you so bad.”

you softly smile and sit up, ruffling his hair in the process.

“i was hoping i would come home to you sleeping but i guess you’re having a restless night huh?” he asks finally getting up, pulling you with him.

“kind of. i just missed you that was all.” you shrug nonchalantly.

“well i’m here now and as much as i wanna tell you how tonight went i’d rather get you off to sleep and talk about it in the morning.”

he goes through his nightly rountine with you by his side. showering? you sat on the toilet and listened to him hum a tune from the new album. skin care? you stood in between his legs and got the rest of the makeup he didn’t get when he was in the shower. changing into his pjs? you sat on the bed silently staring at him, your ears a light shade of pink because you know, this is your boyfriend and you love everything about him and this made you harp on the fact even more

when all was said and done on his end he made sure you had everything you needed to sleep soundly. checking to make sure that you were comfortable. he watched and you went from being tense when he first came in, to you suddenly rubbing your eyes and yawning as you sat on the bed, answering his every question. when you reach out for him he finally decides to shut up and get in bed.

“sleep well. i love you so much.” he says, placing a smiling kiss onto your forehead, squeezing your body as close to him as possible. you feel incredibly relaxed with him here. you let out a content sigh before settling into dreamland.

————————————

when you first started dating sungjin you put on a very good front. you did whatever you could to show him that you were cheery and in turn it blew up in your face.

about a month into your relationship you could feel a cloud forming over your head filled with all of your doubts and fears that you pushed away for the sake of the relationship you had established with sungjin. you tried your best to keep it to yourself, which meant isolation.

sungjin thought it was something he had done. your relationship was fairly new and he made sure he never crossed any lines with you. he really liked you and didn’t want to do anything to ruin this.

so you could understand why he was confused when you started dodging him. he asked you to go places with him and your answer always ended up being no. he asked you to come over to the dorms because he and the guys had missed you and you ignored his requests. he even offered to come over to your apartment and hang out which caused you to cave and let him come.

he got there with a bag of snacks in one hand and a teddy bear in the other, smiling like he always does making your heart feel simultaneously lighter and heavier. you felt guilty for pushing him away for a few weeks but you also felt great that he was here now.

the two of you settle on watching a movie, nothing out of the ordinary for you. he knew it was what you liked to do because you were a more introverted person so he had no problem doing it as long as he got to see you.

which is why he didn’t really enjoy the fact that you were sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him, knees close to your chest. his heart immediately dropping to his stomach. he wanted to ask if he had done something wrong or if you had been avoiding him because you wanted to break up.

“i’m sorry.” was all he could say, causing you to look at him with soft eyes.

“what?” you ask cocking your head to the side.

“i don’t know what i did but you seem to be upset with me so i’m apologizing for whatever i did wrong.” he says frowning slightly, fidgeting in his seat.

you now realize that you’ve been avoiding sungjin in person as well as through texts and calls for the past few weeks so he probably thinks the worst of the situation.

you get up from your spot and pop a squat on your boyfriend’s lap, hugging him close to you.

“i’m not upset with you i promise.” you say softly, kissing his cheek. he smiles and immediately relaxes playing a movie.

sitting on his lap, sungjin feels that you’re noticeably tense compared to usual but as the movie goes on you loosen up a little.

now you weren’t known for being a crier, especially after watching the same movie multiple times and sungjin knew this so when he felt your body shudder and you grip into his sweatshirt, he pulls back from his cuddling position to see you crying silently.

“hey hey what’s wrong?” he asks.

you look him in the eyes unsure of what to say before you bury your face into a crook of his neck and just sob until you know for sure that you’re about to be dehydrated. he just hugs you tightly and says all the right things to calm you down.

when you pull back, your face is splotchy and slightly wet.

“sorry,” you say wiping your tears, “i don’t know what got into me.”

“you don’t have to apologize let’s talk about it.”

———————————

so here you are at 5:30 in the morning, your eyes staring at sungjin’s face thinking of all of the ways he has been the best boyfriend in the world. tracing your fingertips ever so slightly over his features, hoping not to wake him up but you do anyways.

“what time is it?” he say groggily.

“somewhere between 5:30 and 6 in the morning.”

“why are you up then?”

“i guess my brain couldn’t handle not seeing you for much longer.” you giggle softly.

“okay you flirt, what’s up.” he says knowing exactly why you’re up to which you shrug your shoulders.

with that he pulls you closer, enveloping you, ready to send you back to sleep.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 111

Chapter Summary - As Tom readies for Hamlet, he makes plans with Danielle for after it, the only issue is, his idea meets a minor roadblock when Danielle reminds him he did similar, just a year ago, with someone else.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle hummed to herself as she pulled the clothes from the washing machine. Tom was in the kitchen doing the dishes and between them, they had pretty much everything in the house done by the afternoon. Their busy schedules had meant that both of them had been slacking on the house chores, with all their spare time being set aside for looking after Mac when neither of them were working, the had become somewhat behind on them. As they worked, Mac went between the pair, as though he was supervising them.

‘ Elle?’ Tom walked into the kitchen. ‘I need to talk to you about the tickets.’

‘What ones?’

‘Hamlet.’

‘You mean how they're going by raffle?’

‘Yeah, how did you know about that?’

‘Because I have my phone set to alert me of anything to do with it? But also because, as I said, Amelia is a big fan of yours and she made mention that she is put herself into the raffle.’

‘I should have thought of that actually,’ Tom stated. ‘It means that I can't get you a ticket.’

‘I know, I put myself into the raffle, I might be lucky. Considering how everything is going for me recently I'm probably going to get about forty tickets.’ she laughed.

Tom found himself chuckling as well, ‘You very well could. Speaking of your good fortune, didn't you mention you were changing car?’

‘Yeah, I was going to go at the weekend and take a look at a few, why?’

‘Just asking, to be honest, I was hoping I could come along.’

‘Aren’t you busy though, with the play and everything?’

‘I have to learn my lines, but there's no costume for this one, so no fittings, just learning. Then next week, we’re starting to work in bringing it all together.’

‘Are you excited?’

‘I am actually, it's sort of seen as a rite of passage, doing Hamlet.’

‘If you put half the effort into that as you did into Coriolanus, it will be incredible.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘I don't know how you do it.’

‘What, learn the lines?’

‘Well that too, but the confidence, the way you carry yourself on stage, you don't need me to tell you, and I know I'm not exactly the most qualified person to say, but I think it's absolutely amazing how you do it.’

Tom gave her an almost confused look, ‘What do you mean you're not exactly the most qualified person, no one is the most qualified person, a person with a degree, a masters, and a PhD in Shakespearean literature may understand the work more than most, but it does not make them more qualified than any other person as to what an individual likes and dislikes. And if I'm perfectly honest, your opinion matters a lot more to me than most every critic that will write up about this. You and my family mean the most to me ergo your opinions mean the most to me. One thing about you, mum, Emma and Sarah that on occasion has driven me insane but also I adore more than anything else is your brutal honesty. I am my greatest critic, you guys genuinely give me your opinions because you know I want the truth and because you want to see me get better at my job.’

‘Now I'm worried, I feel like I need to criticise you.’ Danielle joked sticking her tongue out between her teeth. ‘Or does that throw me into the cliche of the nagging partner?’

‘I don't think you to be nagging.’

‘So what is my worst issue, or should I ask?’

‘Duvet stealing, I have never suffered a case of duvet sausage rolling quite like you before, please note I went to a boarding school.’

‘I will not apologise for enjoying comfort in bed.’ Danielle’s eyes shifted side to side as she responded.

Tom chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her, ‘I wouldn't expect you to.’ He kissed her for a moment before he pulled back his eyes bright with an idea. ‘What would you say, when after the Hamlet run is done and before the Early Man and Ragnarok promotions start, you and I go away for a few days?’

‘ Where are you thinking, Suffolk, your dad's, Ireland?’

‘ No, I think we deserve a little further afield this time.’

‘How far are we speaking?’

Tom paused for a moment to think about it, ‘Somewhere in Europe maybe, is there any way you actually want to go?’

‘Well, the usual places, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Barcelona...Could you imagine people's faces of the two of us turned up in Rome? How many comparisons do you think would be made?’ She found herself giggling at the thought. Tom, on the other hand, looked somewhat bemused. ‘What, it's true, they would.’

‘The only reason we went there was because she was having business discussions regarding releases of albums and dates of which they were being released with a few friends of hers including Ed Sheeran, that's how I heard his music that time before it came out.’

‘Tom, how many times do I have to tell you I don't want to know. You don't have to explain it to me, I honestly don't want to know.’

‘You're upset by this?’ Tom realised, noting the change of her tone and her manner as she walked away from him. He followed immediately after her. ‘Elle?’

‘Well, you hardly expect me to be thrilled that one of the places I've always wanted to see as soon as I go there, if I were to go there with you, people would immediately reference the whole situation with her and like every other person I don't want to be laughed at, Tom. There is no one I would rather see Rome with but to me, it’s lost a bit of its appeal now.’ She shrugged and gave him an apologetic face before she left the room.

Tom paused and thought about what she said, it was true, if they did go to Rome, people would immediately correlate it with his time there with Taylor. How in the world was Danielle supposed to enjoy the trip if all the people would be speaking about would be the like this of it to the time he went there before. Sighing to himself and putting his hands behind his head, he thought about it for a moment more before following Danielle back into the main part of the house and looking for her. Hearing the sound of her moving about upstairs he quickly made his way up taking the stairs two steps at a time. When he arrived up, he made his way to their bedroom and stood in the doorway watching Danielle folding different laundry and placing it on the bed to be organised in the correct part of the room. ‘I'm sorry, I have taken that from us haven't I?’

‘There wasn't an “us” then to take it from though, was there? You didn't cheat on me by bringing her there or her bringing you there, whatever way it was, so there's no need to apologise.’

‘But it hurts?’

‘Yes, as childish as it seems, in some ways, it does hurt.’

‘Then, for that, I apologize, because as it stands, that hurts you and that is a result of my actions.’

‘We could spend today arguing about this but I don't want to. if you feel an unrelenting need to apologise then fine but I think it's a waste of time, I don't think you have something to apologize for.’ she stated as she put his dark blue v neck jumper down on the bed folded. ‘I do think it would be lovely for us to go away.’

‘But Rome is out?’

‘For now I think it's best, I am going to get there and I do think it will be with you, but I don't think I could handle the comments that would arise as a result right now, how I am gullible to let you bring me there and how you're a slimy bastard for bringing two girls there, a year apart. Is there anywhere you would want to go?’

‘I will bring you to Rome,’ Tom promised. ‘When the time is right, I am taking you there. But for now, perhaps Paris would be nice. What can they say about that?’

Danielle laughed, ‘I don't think you are setting them much of a challenge for that one, I think we could actually start a pool before we even go with our friends. I would bet that the highest likely to occur comments will be; didn't you admit to bringing a girlfriend there before or was that you surprised her there before when you were younger, and the other like you want, would more than likely include you brought me there to ask me to marry you, in which case, we will probably be on “bump watch”.’

‘I know I'm going to regret this but what the hell is “bump watch”?’

‘Well considering the amount of time we are together, and the fact that you and Ben are somewhat similar, and how he would never be seen to have had Kit outside of marriage with Sophie, people are going to assume that you brought me there to propose to me and the reason for which is more than likely because I would be pregnant.’

‘Are you sure you're not reading too much into this?’

‘Tom I don't know if Luke is telling you this, but every other day people are trying to figure out whether or not I am pregnant there is a Tumblr page and all to this. Because for some reason, the fact that I do not wear tight-fitting clothing, and the fact that I am not a stick figure, people are assuming that I am pregnant.’

‘Wait, what, since when?’

‘Since it came out that we’re together, honestly Tom, I know you don't pay attention to these things, but at one stage, there were some out there, including trash papers, accusing you of having both myself and Swift pregnant. To some people, you're just a baby making machine,’ Danielle laughed, enjoying the perturbed look on Tom’s face search comments. ‘But enough silliness, Paris sounds like an incredible idea, when are we going?’

Shaking his head slightly to cease focusing on the preposterous, Tom gave her a wolfish grin. ‘You sorted Ireland, I'm sorting this.’

‘I'm not going to lie, that statement worries me.’

‘Are you saying you don't trust me?’

‘I'm saying I don't trust you to stay within a reasonable budget.’

‘Holidays shouldn't have budgets, not for too hard-working individuals like ourselves who deserve it.’

‘And that has left me even more scared.’ Danielle shuddered to think what it was that Tom was planning.

Tom's grin grew even more, ‘Really?’ He skulked forward towards her.

‘Tom no, I have literally just folded...Tom!’ Playfully, Tom tackled her onto the bed and in turn, onto the fresh washing. ‘The laundry.’

‘That can be refolded,’ Tom dismissed, using his strong arms to cage around her, he leant down and kiss her for a moment, ‘Actually, I think you may need to fold more than just the clothes when I'm finished with you.’ He grinned as he kissed her again, this time one of his hands making the way up the hem of her shirt, hers going through his hair.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Peggysous Week Day Six: Carnations

Read on Ao3 @fandomsandxfiles-writes please tumblr hates my formatting go to a browser or click the link

Carnations: Red for deep love and admiration.

***

In a world of black, white, grey, and navy suits, red stands out. None more so than Peggy Carter. 

Daniel loves Peggy Carter’s red hat. So much.

In a world of black, white, grey, and navy suits, red stands out. None more so than Peggy Carter.

Daniel loves Peggy’s red hat. So much.

It’s such a pure embodiment of Peggy Carter that he can’t help but smile every single time he sees it. Even if it’s just in its hatbox or perched on a shelf, it never fails to make him light up.

There’s just something so wonderful about the bright red color. It’s bold, it’s here, it says ‘shut up and let me do my job.’ When Peggy wears it, it might as well be a crown, for how powerful it makes her look.

No, he’s not drunk, he just really admires Peggy.

Peggy is a powerful woman, and anyone who doesn’t know that is about to get it beaten into them six ways to Sunday. Not that Peggy needs to do that, she’s got her own shit to do. Everyone else is just gonna get interrupted by how freaking awesome she looks doing it. When Peggy walks down the street, she doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks of her. She’s Daniel’s hero. She better be everyone else’s hero at the SSR, if you ask him, look at the amount she’s done!

Also she ran her own, more successful investigation behind all of their backs and none of them realized, so take that.

He asked her where she got it once when they first worked a late night case, watching her set it carefully on a coat hook and smooth the brim.

“Oh, somewhere,” she replied offhandedly, much more focused on the case at hand—which he should be—than her hat.

“I like it,” Daniel had said, trying for casual and knowing he’s failing miserably.

“Like what?”

“The hat.”

“Oh,” Peggy had blinked in surprise, “well, er…thank you.”

“No problem.”

The ensuing silence had been the worst.

“So, the case—“

“Yes, so—“

He’s not sure if it’s a direct correlation or if it’s just because he’s looking for it now, but he notices Peggy start wearing it more often.

Rose catches him for lunch one day, taking his arm as they make their way down the street to this little family-owned deli that has the best pulled roast beef sandwiches Daniel’s ever had. They talk about work—in the classified manner, obviously—the new picture coming out that Rose has gone to see, the new mystery book Daniel’s reading, and inevitably, the conversation turns to Peggy.

“So,” Rose says, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, “how’re you and Peg doing?”

Daniel doesn’t quite choke on his water but it’s close. Very close. “The hell d’you mean by that? We’re not together.”

“No?” Rose hides a smirk behind the rim of her glass. “Could’ve sworn you promised to ask her out after that whole Stark nonsense.”

“I did,” Daniel protests, feeling the tips of his ears burn bright red, “she turned me down.”

Rose sets her glass down with a thunk. “She what?”

“It’s not a big deal, Rose—“

“You,” Rose says sternly, pointing a finger at Daniel over their half-eaten sandwiches, “better tell me exactly what happened that day and if it doesn’t line up with Peggy’s, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Alright, alright, I will—“ Daniel pauses, the second half of Rose’s threat—that was a threat, okay, especially coming from Rose Roberts—finally making it through to his brain. “Wait, what do you mean ‘line up with Peggy’s?’”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Unlike the rest of you, apparently,” she says, “Peggy and I talk. Like normal humans.”

“There is not a single normal person in that goddamn building.”

“Maybe not,” Rose says airily, “but that doesn’t mean we don’t communicate.”

“Wait, so…” Daniel swallows. “Peggy…she told you what happened?”

Rose narrows her eyes. “Mr. Sousa, are you asking if Peggy and I gossip about you?”

“What?” Daniel splutters, almost knocking over his glass. “No, no, that’s not—why would you think that’s what I—“

“Because we do.”

Rose, you gotta stop dropping bombs everywhere.

“You what?”

“Keep it down,” Rose chides playfully over another dainty sip of her water, “I don’t think you rattled all the tooth fillings in this place yet.”

Daniel takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “Well, if you stopped giving me heart attacks every two seconds, it would be easier.”

“Oh, please,” Rose says, setting her glass aside, “I’m just teasing.”

“Can you…stop?”

“Depends.”

“…on what?”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Daniel groans, the reminder from his brain that they are in a public place—a respectable restaurant at that—the only thing keeping him from slamming his forehead into the table. “You’re making it sound like it’s some big scandalous thing,”

“Is it not?”

“It is not,” Daniel says from where his head is—much more respectably—buried in his hand, “and you know it.”

Rose giggles, reaching across the table to pat his arm. “Come on, spill.”

Daniel sighs. “It was after Thompson took credit for everything and I got…upset.”

“Mhm.”

“I, uh, then Peggy said that she didn’t need any recognition from anyone else.” Daniel smiles, the memory of Peggy Carter, standing in the middle of the SSR office, looking every bit the hero that needed no one to tell her what to do. “She knows her value. Everyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”

“Hey,” Rose says, kicking his leg under the table, “get on with it, starry-eyes.”

Daniel blinks. “And then I…said I was getting a drink. After work. Asked if she wanted to join me.”

“And...?”

Daniel shrugs. “She said no.”

“Those were her exact words?”

He squints at Rose. “What is with you today?”

“What did she say, Daniel?”

“I don’t know, Rose, jeez, um—“ Daniel runs a hand through his hair, racking his brain to try and remember Peggy’s exact words— “she said maybe some other time. She hadda…meet a friend.”

Daniel ignores the mild ache that shoots through his chest in favor of dropping his hand and glaring at Rose. “Now would you mind telling me why I’m being interrogated over a perfectly good sandwich?”

Instead of the snappy comeback he expects, Rose just smiles softly.

“You’re killing me here, Rose.”

“I don’t think that was as much of a ‘no’ as you think it was, Daniel,” Rose says, smile growing, “seriously.”

He hates the treacherous leap of his heart at that sentence. “What?”

“Try again,” she encourages, “really. You might get a different answer.”

Should I?

No, no, what are you talking about? I’m great friends with Peggy, that’s more than enough.

But you could be more!

Or I could ruin this friendship and then where would we be?

“I don’t know, Rose—“

“Just…think about it?” She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. “Promise?”

Daniel sighs. “I promise.”

“Good.” She sits up straight and frowns at the rest of her sandwich. “Now, no more talking. We have food to finish.”

“Oh, I’m ordering a second one to go.”

“And you think I’m not?”

“Woman after my own heart.”

“No, no, no, I’m not taking what’s Peggy’s.”

“Rose!”

“Shush. Eating.”

Peggy is…bemused at best when Rose links her arm through hers and insists they’re going out for a cup of tea.

“Rose, I’m more than happy to—“

“No buts, Peggy,” Rose says, wagging her finger, “I’ve gotten Ms. Martinelli in on this too.”

“Hey, English!” Peggy groans internally when she sees Angie coming down the sidewalk. Angie loops her arm through Peggy’s free one, Rose seizing her momentary distraction to take Peggy’s briefcase. “Just got off my shift, let’s go!”

“I don’t even know where we’re going,” Peggy protests, letting herself get dragged down the street towards a waiting car. “What is—“

“Ah! Ms. Carter!”

“Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy responds, still highly confused, “what on earth is going on?”

“I’ve been summoned by Ms. Roberts,” Mr. Jarvis explains as he opens the door for her. “Apparently, you’re to be having something of a ‘girl’s night.’”

“I’m what?”

“Come on, English,” Angie says, “it’ll be fun!”

Peggy looks to Jarvis pleadingly, hoping he’ll provide at the very least some clarification if not an excuse out of this, but he’s no help. He simply sees that she’s sat down and gets Rose and Angie into the back, hopping delightedly back into the driver’s seat and ferrying them all back to the Stark residence. He leaves them all at the gate with a jaunty wave.

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

“Relax, Peg,” Angie says, leading her to the living room, “we just wanna hang out with you.”

“And that involves practically kidnapping me?”

“Oh please,” Rose says, sitting down next to a tea set with plenty of little dishes—oh, they have planned this— “I hardly think it woudl be so easy to kidnap you.”

“Yeah, English.” Angie bumps her hip against Peggy’s. “You’ve got one hell of a right hook.”

“She’s got more than that!”

“Alright, alright,” Peggy says, accepting defeat and sitting down, “I’m here for…a girl’s night, or whatever.”

“Come on, Peg, you have to have had a girl’s night before!” Angie flings herself onto the couch.

“I have,” Peggy defends, “just not for a while.”

“When was your last one?”

Peggy props her head on her hand, accepting the cup of tea Rose passes her way. “Oh, well now let me think…it might’ve been back before I joined the SOE.”

“That’s a long time!”

“I know, I know…it was back with the other code breakers. They were formidable women.”

“Like you!”

Rose giggles when a light pink blush dusts the tops of Peggy’s cheeks. “Peg doesn’t get complimented very often, apparently.”

“I receive compliments perfectly well,” Peggy says, “just not those.”

“Why not? Ain’t you showed those fathead male coworkers of yours you’re worth more than all of them put together?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Peggy says, only to frown when Rose makes a noise of disbelief. “Rose!”

“I’m just saying if we had an agency made of more of you and less of them,” Rose says, “we’d be a lot better.”

“They’re not all awful,” Peggy defends, “some of them are perfectly reasonable.”

“Oh?” Rose raises an eyebrow. “Like who?”

“Agent Smith is an excellent detective and is more than capable of handling an investigation.”

“And?”

“Agent James is a marksman.”

“And?”

“Rose, what—“

“And?” Angie picks up, smiling cheekily at Peggy. “What? You used to only complain about your coworkers, give a girl something else!”

Peggy sighs. “This really isn’t that big of a deal, they are suitable for the job. They wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. The majority of them are acceptable.”

“But there’s none of them you think are more than acceptable?”

“Oh, I see where this is going.” Peggy sets the teacup aside. “Are you asking me if I fancy any of my coworkers?”

“Yep.”

“Angie!”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question, English!”

“It’s the height of unprofessional!”

“Really? Never, not once, not even just to entertain yourself? Like a ‘ooh, what if?’ Nothing?”

Peggy immediately shakes her head but Rose smirks.

“Liar.”

“I am not.”

“Sure you are.” She nudges Angie. “Look at how she’s fidgeting more.”

“Rose!”

“What?” Rose blinks innocently. “Are you saying I shouldn’t help you teach your roommate how to tell when someone’s lying?”

“Who is it, Peg,” Angie asks devilishly, “who caught your eye?”

Her face falls. “It’s not tall blond and stuck-up, is it?”

“What?”

“One I cried on when they came lookin’ for you at the Griffith,” Angie says, “who calls his grandmother Gam-Gam.”

“Jack Thompson? No, no,” Peggy says, “of course not.”

“He calls his grandmother Gam-Gam?” Peggy looks up to see Rose filing that information away for good use.

“No, it’s…” Peggy takes a deep breath. “It’s the other one.”

Angie’s eyes light up. “Tall dark and stormy? The one with the pretty eyes?”

Peggy shoots a glance at Rose only to realize yes, Rose knows exactly who Angie’s talking about. She winces.

“His name is Daniel,” Rose says, “and he’s a gem.”

“Ooh, I liked him!” Angie claps her hands excitedly. “He seems nice.”

“You…you’ve met him for all of a few minutes while he was interrogating you.”

Angie shrugs. “I got a feeling. Rose, is he nice?”

“Oh, he is,” Rose agrees, “very nice. Quite the gentleman.”

“He asked you out yet?”

“Oh for the love of—“ Peggy buries her face in her hands as Rose and Angie burst into peals of laughter. “We are colleagues and friends, nothing more.”

“Rose?”

Rose is still laughing a little too hard to answer, thank the lord, but Angie stares determinedly at Peggy.

“You like him, huh, English.”

“Angie—“

“Look, Peg, getting you to talk about guys is like pulling teeth.” Angie sits up properly on the sofa. “If he seems nice, why don’t you ask him out for a drink or somethin’?”

“Oh, he already did.”

Angie’s eyes grow wide as Rose says it. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It was the same night we moved in,” Peggy defends, “I couldn’t let you move in by yourself!”

“Move in, schmoove in,” Angie says, flapping a hand, “Peggy, you got asked out on a date, that’s great!”

“Well, I…” Peggy swallows, the blush back on her cheeks. “I expect that ship has sailed. I did refuse.”

“Might not have left the harbor yet, Peg.”

Peggy looks up to see Rose looking at her strangely. She smiles.

“He may ask you again.”

Angie squeals. “Oh, Peg, you gotta say yes!”

Peggy has to take a breath, her brain still reeling. Does…does she like Daniel?

Unbidden, an image of him swims to the forefront of her mind. She takes a moment to look, really look.

Oh.

Oh, bugger.

She likes him, doesn’t she?

“If he asks again,” she says softly, “I will say yes.”

“Oh, Peg!” Angie claps her hands. “What’re you gonna wear?”

“He hasn’t asked yet, Angie,” Peggy protests, “I don’t—“

“He will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Angie just gives her a look. “Peg, it’s you. He’ll ask. So, what’re you gonna wear? Ooh, does he have a favorite thing of yours?”

Peggy’s about to protest that this is all nonsense, there’s no guarantee Daniel will ask, and even if he did, he’s only ever seen her in her work clothes, and there’s nothing he’s ever—

oh.

Oh.

Oh.

“Yes,” she tries carefully, “I think he does.”

There’s a picture on their mantelpiece. Both of their faces are slightly exasperated, obviously not understanding why a photo is being taken. If one comes close enough to the frame, their protests can practically be heard, if not for the squealing of the actress behind the camera.

Peggy’s red hat is perched atop her head, a red carnation tucked into Daniel’s suit.

When people ask what it’s from, they say it’s their first date. Well, no.

Peggy says it’s their first date. Daniel still argues that their first date came weeks later when he actually asked permission to court her properly. Peggy rolls her eyes and says that it’s just semantics at that point. Daniel will insist she’s worth enough to do it properly. And really, who’s going to argue with that?

[bettertheworld]

How and why fear scares people into eating meat.

Did you ever wonder why you ate what you ate as a child? Do you wonder why you continue to eat what you eat? Or are you simply on autopilot because you don’t think it matters all that much and you basically have it all figured out? Or do you feel powerless, and confused with the amount of fake news out there about food and you’re not sure where the hell to find real information? The answer does not lie in marketing, it lies in scientific research; geeks required.

Quick disclaimer - I’ve been through University and have a Bachelor of Science with a minor in Psychology and am trained as a Paramedic and for all of the years I’ve been out of school, I’ve become a geeky Paramedic thereby educating myself with regard to emergency medicine and the causes of our main killers.  

What I find to be most useful with regard to school is how I am able to read research and make sense of it.  Giving credit to where credit is due is not as easy as it seems - this is why ‘that guy’ or ‘my friend’s friend’ literally knows nothing, and anyone who refers to life rules from those sources, does not know as much as a person who refers to scientific journals. 

Now with regard to food, I’ll be able to help you digest some of what’s out there and help you critically think for yourself. I won’t do it for you, but I’ll help you do it yourself, so bring your critical thinking, and bring your skepticism, I welcome it.

“Everything in moderation”, we’ve been told, except moderation has never been shown to be effective, i.e. reversing certain illnesses the way a specific diet has.  Can you guess which diet has cured a the most common killers in today’s society?  If you were able to guess, do enjoy this write-up, if not here’s a hint - it contains no animal products and I encourage you to open your mind and do some research after reading this. If this challenges you to your core and are offended, you are probably upset that your feelings and actions are in direct conflict, but that’s okay - real information will fix that.  

On the topic of real news, here’s a few gems; butter from dairy in your coffee is never healthy, eggs are never part of the healthiest diet possible, and bacon is the quickest way for you to cause cancer and heart attacks in yourself.  Eggs are the most concentrated glom of cholesterol you can eat on the planet and most people are born lactose-intolerant because we’re not cows, we’re people, so why would it ever be a good idea to challenge the body in such a way that it actually doesn’t want to be? In later write-ups, I’ll discuss the ‘Lac-operon’.

One thing you’ll need to do is always consider the source of research.  Just because Dr. Oz or some “Doctor” or “professional” goes on TV blabbing out the benefits, of X, Y and Z or saying “the relationship isn’t strong enough to prove anything”, you have to ask yourself, who has done the research on the topic and who paid for the research to be done? 

Rich people paying for research have a reason for doing research, it’s always about money, and they always get what they want in some way, shape or form due to the flexibility of statistical analysis. Rich people with money who have gone out of their way to pay for research, are also most likely to be taking advantage of nearly everyone downhill - kind of the way Trump does business.  The sick-minded narcissistic ways the meat and dairy industries are run, if admitted by everyone would shudder in disbelief.  The veil that has been pulled down before all of our eyes is real, and needs to be lifted.

The problem with foods is that as the research comes out, then another paper comes out to deny the ‘realness’ of the original - now who do you believe? This is especially true when it comes to foods containing cholesterol - animals products. You might wonder why animal products contain cholesterol? Because their cell walls contain cholesterol, just like ours do. Why do companies want to exploit this? Animals do not have rights the way humans do, so if companies can get away with exploiting animals and make a bunch of money doing so, and people are dumb enough to support this because they need huge amount of protein (because they don’t know how little they actually need), then my friend, you are indeed a sucker supporting Trump-like meat and dairy businessmen.

Cholesterol is needed by the human body to have strong cell walls and it’s made inside our own bodies, it’s never required to be eaten because your body makes all it needs. When people eat cholesterol, consider the fact that it is a solid at room temperature and has a melting point of 148 degrees Celsius. That means until you get to that temperature, it’s a solid - this is why it gets stuck in your arteries, and remaining in your arteries until it’s pushed into the walls or is broken down; if you’re smart enough to stop eating cholesterol.  

Our bodies make what it needs, you never need to eat cholesterol, so saying certain foods have ‘good’ and ‘bad’ cholesterol is like saying cyanide, sometimes is ‘good’ or ‘bad’.  We all know that ALL CYANIDE IS BAD CYANIDE, but we don’t all know that ALL CHOLESTEROL IS BAD CHOLESTEROL.  We know all cyanide is bad cyanide because the effects of cyanide poisoning are very quick and easy to notice, but the effects of cholesterol-poisoning have a delayed onset - so long that many of us could never piece it altogether, and we call the manifestations of this poisoning ‘heart attacks’.

Do you know there are strong correlations between certain types of foods and certain illnesses? Do you know you can avoid the major killers in today’s society by avoiding the bad foods? It’s difficult to say what’s ‘good’ and what’s ‘bad’ because both of those denotations are subjective, but when it comes to cancer, heart attacks, strokes, the science is clear, animal products are killing you, slowly but surely - decreasing the years you get to live on this earth, and decreasing the quality of life that you live.  

Wouldn’t it be wonderful, a life not fearing cancer, heart attacks, high blood cholesterol, and best of all, not fearing high blood pressure which is also called “the silent killer”? All too often you hear people say, “Yeah, my father died of a heart attack, so I will one day too”. While there is a wee bit of truth to this statement, the amount of greatly overestimated. Habits and traditions are what are subconsciously passed down to next generation, thereby the body tends to react similarly as time goes because you’re eating the same foods with roughly the same body. 

But what is hugely undervalued is with a change of habits, i.e. change of food sources, comes great opportunity to change your destiny. Just because dad had a heart attack or had cancer, does not mean you’re going to have one or die from one. Even if we have cancer genetics, certain foods promote ‘cancer-genetics’ and others thwart these genes from producing cancer.

Once you remove the foods that are associated with hardening of the arteries, you don’t have to worry about hardening arteries anymore. Without hardening arteries and clogging them with cholesterol, your risk for a heart attack was just cut down to nearly to a huge degree. Food matters, food matters a lot.

There are many peer-reviewed scientific journals out there - pubmed being a great starting place, which discusses how plant-based whole foods diets are reversing diabetes and reversing clogged arteries associated with heart attacks?  Did the meat-producers forget to tell you this? 

If my memory serves me correctly, it was something like 84% of diabetic patients, within 20 weeks of a new whole foods plant-based diets were off their diabetic medications having fixed their insulin resistance. Diabetes is a problem of physical nature, if all or most of the sites where the sugar goes from your vasculature to your functional cells of your body are blocked with cholesterol and other fats, then you my friend are ‘diabetic’.  When you clear those sites with a whole-foods, plant-based diet you have essentially cured yourself of diabetes. Animal-fats have higher boiling points than that of vegetable sources, this is why they’re problematic for us. 

Similarly, this same vegan diet was proven to erode the cholesterol in the arteries, thereby cleaning up the arteries, and with regard to the heart, you’ve now decreased your likelihood of having a heart attack.  The vegan diet works for both illnesses because both of these problems happen in the tubes of the body, the highway, the vasculature, arteries to be exact. 

With diabetes, you remove the cholesterol and stuff that sticks to it, thereby allowing insulin to let sugar into the cells from the arteries, and with heart attacks, you allow blood to circulate through the coronary arteries more freely now that the plant-based whole foods diet has eroded away the cholesterol and other fat-soluble substances stuck into the walls thereby blocking the blood-flow.

This is where we discuss the problem with saying ‘everything in moderation’.  Science can now say, with certainty that a plant-based whole foods diet will fix your arteries nearly all of the time, but no one can say that eating one piece of meat per day will allow the same progress to occur - so let’s critically think, is ‘everything in moderation’ even true? Who made this garbage up? My guess is probably some Doctor who was making allowances for him or herself!  

We all love to hear good things about our bad habits, but you’ll never hear a teacher tell a student, “It’s ok that you don’t really try very often in my class, everything in moderation my dear.” So why do we give ourselves allowances based on our own wants when it comes to food? If you’re a scholar, if you’re a critical thinker, if you value your body, you need to begin asking yourselves the questions that matter; how much do I value my health - do I even care about myself, or the future? Or maybe you aren’t a scholar, thinker, or maybe you don’t care and that’s why you refuse to understand what science has proven. Again, if you take offence to this, you’re at war with yourself.  Everything I write is based on science but I do not write the sources in.

When I discovered these facts, I went on a rampage, trying to help everyone, wasting my energy and burning bridges, but now I’m leaving it all out on the table for like-minded people to read. I assume we all are like-minded because everyone just wants the best for themselves and their loved ones. It might be shocking to be challenged, so I’ll do my best to maintain neutrality, but what you might discover by following me might change the course of your life and sometimes we need a little challenge, but not too much.

You can’t free an oppressor, or the oppressed with oppression itself, it must be with deliberate care and without imposing ones beliefs, it must be with information, not by force. While I could use the platform to shred fools who base their decisions not on science but tradition, instead I’m going to empower you and not make you feel stupid for being duped - because we all have been duped by the meat and dairy industry.  I want to continue to critically think, and beg for you to do the same.

Did you think you had free will when you were developing your eating habits and family traditions? Did you think you chose your food yourself with a sense of ownership? Or did you just want to fit in with the rest of your family? Did you not want to disappoint your parents by not finishing food prepared for you? Did you want to be guilty of letting an animal die for you, and you denying eating it forcing your parents to throw it out and waste its life? Did you want to avoid being called and feeling ungrateful? Was trying to be a good boy or girl causing you to compromise your thoughts and feelings? Did you love zoos but ask yourself, why am I eating this animal? And why don’t we have pet cows? Why do we think dogs are cute and cows not?  So many children have thoughts that are repressed and never entertained by true critical thought, this is a crime of parenting.

Now circulating all over the internet are videos of cows playing fetch with fitness balls, just like dogs fetch a tennis ball. Imagine you could watch the video  without thinking that because you eat meat, that you’ll completely disregard the emotions you’re feeling of how cute the cow is, so that it won’t be hard to eat your next beef-oriented meal? 

Conversely, imagine you are healthy, strong, full of energy and vegan person who can fully enjoy videos of cute animals because you don’t see them as food, you see them as sentient beings capable of feelings, social structure, language and emotion. This is just one way people differ because of food choices.

This is how people are split when it comes to cute animal videos.  No self-proclaimed animal lover wants me to bring up this comparison because for me to even suggest eating a dog is the same as eating a cow, the omnivore will become so enraged that they won’t be able to focus on the conversation and they’ll begin hating on this argument before I finish the thought - likely because they’ve repressed the thought in their own mind. I think eating all animals is completely wrong and completely necessary, but is eating a cow any different than eating a dog? Not in the slightest, but facts don’t change belief systems - they polarize the crowd

Why are some people not able to accept this logic? It’s because of a little thing called Carnism.  A viral belief system where some foods and animals should be looked at as food, while other animals can be considered cute and not-to-be eaten.  To one, a cow might be considered cuter than a dog, and a dog might be considered cuter than a cow to some, but to the alien coming from a different planet, they would not be able to see why which is cuter because they have not been affected by carnism itself.  If a cow and a dog are both animals, then they are both food or neither are food. Why does one get preferential treatment in today’s society? Carnism is to blame for why. Carnism is with a simple google search, a basic idea that meat is there for us to eat, and if we’re not eating it, we could be because we’ve conquered the world, so it’s now there for the taking; aside other important points.  

Who does carnism affect? Everyone who thinks they need meat and everyone who despises the idea of people who think they need meat to survive? Who started carnism? When science got interested in food, we made some inaccurate discoveries and statements, and we’ve sort of run with that. A 200 year-old science paper by Liebig which has been debunked plays a small role, but companies who saw the profit in exploiting animal protein are the true perpetrators of this. 

How do they do it? Marketing.  Marketing is a genius tool that highlights the good, and ignores the bad.  Marketing is telling you what you want to hear about something that has no part in offering what you’re being told it offers. Marketing also tells you that if you wear the same sunglasses as Jason Statham, that you’ll be as desirable as Jason Statham. Clearly you’ve been affected by marketing because if you put on the same sunnies as him, you’re not going to resemble Jason Statham because you are not Jason Statham, and have a different bone structure than him.  As a result, the sunglasses will have a different effect on you, and more than likely you just wasted $600. Buying what other people wear won’t make you look like them, but your feelings tell you otherwise - welcome to the level of marketing - your feels. And also, he’s 5′8, sorry if you thought he was 6′1. 

Feeling a certain way about something is what determines our beliefs then our actions.  When people feel that they need meat, they defend their ‘right’ to eat it, instead of listening to the ways you can get everything meat offers, and be so much more healthier.  Try questioning an omnivore as to why they eat meat and then prepare yourself for heaping pile of shit excuses, and subjective garbage because none it’s true or valuable. 

Humans have needs for amino acids, not meat.  We need some fats and are pretty damn happy with certain types of carbohydrates.  When it comes down to it, we need a fuel source, and a machine to move us that turns energy into movement, we’ll call this tool our muscles, we need muscles.

Since muscles move us, we need to fuel them. What are the ways we can do do? Plants and or animal products. If we think that we need to eat cow’s muscles for energy, we should know that this is completely false.  Let’s discuss why this is not optimal.

For us to use muscles for energy, we have to eat that muscle, break it down, store it, then mobilize it for energy, and this process takes time and energy and you can refer to it as a slow process. On the other hand, if we eat carbohydrates, these sources are quickly accepted by the body and are ready to be used for energy extremely quickly by comparison.  

If you’ve seen The Gamechangers movie, there is a study that uses beet juice and proves that you’re going to be able to cycle longer if working out after drinking beet juice vs not drinking it at all.  This is because you’re providing a high-octane fuel source vs using meat which contains much less high-octane fuel to the point we’ll just call it low-octane fuel source. In addition using protein for energy requires you to be in starvation mode and you’re deciding to break down your body because there is no high-octane fuel around, this is  not optimal - this sounds a lot like chronic fatigue.  Using meat for energy is not optimal, not even close.

How does beet juice then offer us the chance to have stronger, better muscles? The juice offers energy that your muscles use quickly and readily.  From my time at the University of Guelph where I completed my undergrad, I took a Cardiorespiratory Physiology Lab course, and I sure am glad that I did.  I learned that whatever system you challenge, you will have gains in. So, if I provide my leg muscles with energy thereby allowing them to cycle, and I challenge my leg muscles with exercise just beyond what it comfortably, there will be growth - you will change the physical structure of individual cells.  This means that the next time you challenge these muscles in the same way, the work that was 10% beyond your comfort zone, next time is 9% beyond your comfort zone, which means you have experienced 1% growth.  

How did this growth happen? You fed your body what it needed for growth to occur. Did you need meat for this growth to happen? No, you needed essential amino acids. Amino acids that are made by plants. All amino acids are made by plants, and so many plant sources contain every single amino acid. As long as you’re challenging your body beyond it’s comfort zone and you’re feeding it the building blocks it requires for growth, growth will happen. Animals are not required, amino acids are, amino acids that can all be provided by plants.

The difference between vegans and omnivores is that vegans say, “No, it’s not ok for us to exploit animals for any reason”, but omnivores don’t want to discuss this matter because they feel that meat is required, so they do not fully allow themselves to empathize with what they’re eating, if they did, an omnivore would not be able to eat the cow, pig or chicken. 

If it comes down to taste; what a greedy reason it is to kill a sentient being taste is?  If it comes down to nutritional needs, saying you need animals to be healthy is a lot like thinking you need to only breathe oxygen from Nepal, because only Nepalese oxygen provides me with what I need. False!  If we’re eating food and getting enough amino acids from a plant-based whole foods diet, is it in any way deficient compared to amino acids from animals? The answer is no, and additionally, you’re not priming yourself for cancer, heart disease, diabetes, other cardiovascular disorders.

Just a few thoughts maybe we should revisit.  Were you given a choice between eating meat and not eating meat? When you were 5 years old and could conceptualize that you’re eating another life, did your parents sit you down and ask you how you felt about it or even talk to you about it? Did they even bother to tell you that you’re eating a sentient being capable of thought and having feelings? Do you think your parents had a clue about what they were feeding you beyond whatever food guide was popular at the time? Did you know that food guides are based on financial relationships and not what’s actually best for your body (until recent history in Canada)? Does this information enrage you the way it did to me? Do you know what government subsidies are? Does it make sense that you can find burgers at fast food joints for super cheap which contained the life of an animal, but can never find a ridiculously cheap head of broccoli? In fact, have you ever seen a cheap salad at McDonald’s? No, and you never will, because there are no government subsidies for lettuce or anything that goes in a salad.  The government is in bed with whoever pays them the most money, and due to the fear that people have regarding becoming protein-deficient, 98% of people are afraid to turn their back on meat and dairy. I did this is 2014 and to this day, it’s been the best choice of my life.

The interesting fact is in the 1950s and 1960s, the FDA artificially increased the amount of protein ‘needed’ to sell more dairy and meat. Especially after Babe Ruth died of throat cancer due to smoking. At the time ‘Doctors’ were claiming cigarettes weren’t bad for you or cancer-causing, the relationship ‘wasn’t strong enough’.  The baseball community should all be vegan for this reason alone.

If we’re human, always been and always will be human, then out there somewhere is a perfect diet for us, but what if we’re too afraid to eat the healthiest diet for us because of scare tactics used by the meat and dairy industry? Wouldn’t that be sad, maybe even criminal? I think so, but you only have yourself to blame once someone informs you or you read this.

I want to discuss the process of cooking food, but I want to get into that next time, the idea of what’s on the label, vs what’s on your plate after you cooked the carcinogens into it, and the vitamins out of it.

Ask yourself, what is the meat and dairy industry doing for you, aside from providing you with a much-less-than-healthy source of calories? They’re providing you with cancer, cardiovascular disease, double-standards, an emotional haze and basically, you work for them while they make you sick - this sounds a lot like the exploitation of you, the consumer. You think it’s time to wake up yet?

[dimples-of-discontent]

Thoughts on “Destiel is Real.”

So, I’ve been relatively scarce of late (except for when I went bonkers with reblogging deadly Cockles content...which I think I blacked out from b/c it was like being waaayyyy too high and it’s all their fault) because, if y’all don’t know, I have stage 4 breast cancer and am in chemo. I’m tolerating it really well but it takes a surprising amount of time, actually, especially since I’m still working 80% time and also living alone so doing house stuff etc. 

This is all to say that I’m weighing in on things belatedly a lot. Like, I do still want to analyze the Cockles JIB panel as a whole b/c, oh my, was there a lot there. But today I will settle for this piece of it. I apologize if this is reduplicating what smart folks said elsewhere right when it happened. I was also off Twitter to avoid having it bring me down so I might just be really unaware. But as soon as this moment happened I was like, “oh man we’re gonna argue about this for like 84 years.” So here’s my small contribution on what this reminded me of.

To me, listening to Jensen and watching him engage the crowd, inspired a lot of anxiety b/c it did definitely seem like he was pissed off. I just couldn’t tell with what or who, especially given firsthand context from some folks in the room like @bluestar86​ who wrote this account: https://twitter.com/bluestar861/status/1130255687290937344?s=21 about the general positivity Jensen and Misha had shown earlier (which is why Misha mentioned the shirt) and how the energy in the room was almost entirely positive. I totally believe that. But it didn’t reconcile easily with what I felt I saw from Jensen.

Until I remembered SDCC 2011. The one where Misha had been fired and all of them knew but none of the fans do. I wrote a long meta on that panel that I’m actually super happy with so maybe check it out? Anyway, this is how I described some of the dynamics:

The way everyone is sitting at this table isolates Sera and the body language from Jared and Jensen is openly hostile. Jensen especially pushes himself as far away as possible, defensively crosses his arms, leans away, doesn’t make any eye contact. Jared is also pissed and is functionally shielding Misha with his body while he does the first Cas question. Both of them are very protective and Jensen is more than a little hostile. They also both keep egging the audience on in their love for Cas/Misha, as when Jensen shouts “YEAH!” in affirmation of audience shrieks about the character. They want to show Sera what a piss poor decision it was to take Misha away from the fans…and from them. Whatever else you see happening these are some amazing friends.  

So, we had a remarkably angry Jensen at this panel and he was angry specifically because the network had made what he considered--both professionally and personally--to be a fucking terrible decision. But he couldn’t say that. He’s got NDAs and stuff to worry about. So instead he settled, among other things, from egging the audience on to show how much they loved and wanted more Castiel. 

Now I’m not saying the correlation is 1-1 with Destiel. But I am suggesting a thought experiment where something similar could be going on. And by “something similar” I mean “Jensen has inside knowledge about a thing the network has decided that he thinks is fucking stupid and that will hurt the fandom.” Like, oh for example, they’re not moving Destiel out of the subtext.

Additional fuel for this fire. Many have speculated that it’s network president Mark Pedowitz who’s the blocker. Jensen, earlier in the panel, asks the audience to applaud Pedowitz. That’s weird and he’s never done it before. True, Jared was talking about how Pedowitz says that they set examples for other shows and that Pedowitz is complimenting them on it so it was at least that in part. But Jensen is MASTERFUL at throwing shade while appearing to be doing the correct, professional thing. Witness his comments about Bob Singer and last year’s S13 finale. He’s done it with Eugenie and Sera too and probably others I don’t know about. Having the audience applaud Pedowitz if he knows something negative about Pedowitz--something the audience won’t like and that will actively hurt many of them--has a major bite of irony that I feel Jensen is perfectly capable of trying to engineer. (Or maybe there hasn’t been a final decision but he knows it doesn’t look good and why. Don’t lose hope! This is just speculation and a thought experiment.)

I’m going to put the JIB analysis under a cut, since it’s long and has lots of images. It ends with “The most similar behavior I saw was Jensen angrily getting the audience to cheer for something, even doing the same hand-raising gesture. In 2011 it was Castiel (”Go on! Show Sera how much you love the character she killled!”) and this time it was Destiel (”Go on! Show the network how much you love the ship they won’t textualize!”). That’s what made me think, initially, that he may know something about plans for Destiel that a) makes him mad, b) that he considers a bad decision by the network, c) that he thinks that audience will be hurt by.”

Anyway,

If you watch the JIB panel (starting about 12 mins in) you see, first, that Jensen wants Misha not to bring it up. He raises his hand at Misha which I first thought was him being like “shhhhhh don’t bring that up!” but which on repeat viewing I think was him actually just trying to get Misha to shut up so he could literally try to understand what she was saying. Once the audience reacts to Misha’s comment these are their faces:

Jared is absolutely looking at Misha like, “dude, why did you have to go and do that? You just threw a live grenade onstage.” Jensen is hamming it up gesturing at the audience to scream louder. 

Jared changes his face to “well, when you’re right, you’re right! What are you gonna do.”

Here’s Jensen. He’s looking grumpy. Now, is it fake grumpy, a recognized and favored persona that he has. Or is it actually grumpy? Or is it both”

I think it’s both. But I also think he looks sad. And concerned. Like, on behalf of the audience not for him. Now you can say I’m projecting if you want--this is all total rampant speculation--but look at his eyes. I think he’s upset that he has to talk about this at all (since he knows a little about the fandom conflict it sets off) but there’s something else. 

He pauses for a good, long time looking at the audience responding. And according to Saz and others the response was HUGELY POSITIVE! So why does he then announce into the mic with a grumpy fake laugh and what I honestly have to call sarcasm, “Destiel is real!” 

Note that Misha is not worried by this. If Jensen were actually legitimately furious I think Misha would look a little worried. But instead he looks amused and curious about where this is going.

This is Jensen asking “Is it?” for the first time. He looks intentionally confused - that’s the bit he’s doing. 

Here’s Jensen after the audience starts to audibly yell “Nooooo!!” His face says “WHAAAAAAT!?”

People then yell “yes” to drown them out and he asks, “Where?”

Second “where?”. Maybe he’s trying to get them to say “subtext” - a word the cast has great familiarity with and which was used in “Fan Fiction” and which they can joke around a lot about. That’s my guess. Maybe he has a subtext joke set up he wants to do with Misha. (Remember his tweet to Misha during “Fan Fiction: “you keep your subtext to yourself. I’m not that kind of girl. Wait...”)

They don’t - at least not clearly. Someone in the front row says, “Nowhere.” Misha says, “Help” (after mouthing something at someone in the audience that is probably “I’m sorry about this.” Jensen checks on Misha BUT disregards the fact that he’s looking over at the question-asker (who didn’t even ASK a Destiel question, just wear a shirt she liked) and asks “Where?” AGAIN.

Misha then takes things in hand and reaches out to tell Jensen, “don’t get into a fight with these people.” Jared is making a “Yikes!” face at the person in the first row who is continually yelling “Nowhere!”. 

Jensen does sit down, but he’s mad. He’s really tense and it takes him a while to shake it off. 

Who’s he tense with? The most obvious answer is the audience but let’s consider a couple things. 1) The audience was giving a mixed answer, including and sometimes more loudly the “Nowhere!” that you would think Jensen would want to hear IF he were angry/tense about the “Destiel is real” shirt or the audience’s support of it. 2) He was demanding consensus and an answer to where it was real EITHER to have them say “nowhere”--which they did so why not just stop?--OR to get them to say something like “subtext” to lead them into either a question or a bit about it.

So why keep pushing? Hoping to change the answer? Hoping to find consensus? Or maybe just hoping to get them to make a lot of noise about it for a long time (at which he succeeded). Now, Jensen is famously inconsistent about Destiel and also famously different onstage, especially for J2 audiences...though this, the most Holy Gay panel of all the panels, isn’t a place he’d shy away from, e.g. “What would Dean and Cas do on a trip to Rome? Everything I think of right now is inappropriate.” 

Which brings us back to “who’s he tense with”? Could it be only part of the audience? Which part? The part yelling “nowhere” or the part yelling whatever positive things they were yelling? I’m going to hypothesize, based on a LOT of other stuff that I’ve written about, that he’s annoyed with the negative folks spoiling it for everyone with their “nowheres” and is trying to get the positive folks to drown them out and give him a good answer he can run with. 

The fact that nothing coherent emerges is actually what gets him annoyed. And, by extension, the volume and persistence of that small part of the audience, which lets people like Pedowitz shoot down the idea of textual Destiel as something the viewers “don’t want,” annoys the living shit out of him because he sees the viewers all the time and knows that a majority of them either are ok with or actively want textual Destiel.  I imagine him thinking something along the lines of, “Why can’t these nice people just have what they want? It’s b/c of assholes like you.”

He definitely lets his emotions get the better of him. He was already not in the best place, thanks to circumstances I hope to write about later but which boil down to having his special panel with Misha (that he was visibly psyched for from the moment he got onstage, “I always have so much fun with you!”) taken away because he got some awkward wood from being choked and straddled. So with that grumpiness he was primed not to make the best decisions. He gets aggressive and confrontational when he’s pissed, which is a thing I don’t love about him, even though it’s very easy to see why, and maybe this was just his battleground of choice. 

To get back to the thought experiment about whether this is like SDCC 2011, though, I think it could be. I think it’s far more complex, given all the discourse surrounding Destiel and Jensen’s own sexuality. (Here’s a post I wrote in response to a question about Jensen and Destiel and bi!Dean that asked whether I thought he experienced them as about himself and Misha.) It’s tough, b/c each piece of evidence could go both ways (ha). Either mentioning Pedowitz for applause is excellent shade or total sincerity. Either Jensen is mad at the pro-Destiel audience and trying to get them to admit that they’re wrong, or he’s mad at the antis and trying to get them drowned out. 

The most similar behavior I saw was Jensen angrily getting the audience to cheer for something, even doing the same hand-raising gesture. In 2011 it was Castiel (”Go on! Show Sera how much you love the character she killled!”) and this time it was Destiel (”Go on! Show the network how much you love the ship they won’t textualize!”). That’s what made me think, initially, that he may know something about plans for Destiel that a) makes him mad, b) that he considers a bad decision by the network, c) that he thinks that audience will be hurt by.

Given his shift in attitude overall and the mood of the room as described by attendees, it seems plausible to me that his engagement was a performance, using the audience, of what it is the viewers ACTUALLY want. But it could also just have been a grouchy Jensen taking it out on an old, familiar punching bag - the topic he never wants to discuss onstage - Destiel.

[beatleslsd]

everything will be okay

John Lennon x Reader

Our arms and legs where intertwined, something that came rare, my eyes still puffy from the night before. I nuzzled my head into John’s chest, as memories of the night flooded my mind.

-

“John you were out late again,” I said exhaustingly, tonight was our anniversary he was supposed to come home straight after the studio, I should have known that was another lie. Everything was falling apart, and it was obvious the John was losing interest no matter what I did it was never enough for John. I missed how things used to be when I felt like John actually loved me. When I felt like he wouldn’t leave, but he always does, an argument arises and he’s gone, I know this was only going to cause him to leave again. He would say I don’t care, but he’s the one who leaves when I get upset.

“Y/n I don’t have time for this, the studio was really rough today.” It always is, but John’s voice sounded soft, not rough like it normally was when we would argue. “I know I was supposed to be home today, Paul held us back like he’s been doing for some stupid song only he likes, it’s not even a team anymore, it’s just fucking Paul.” John came over to hug me tight, and I let out a shaky breath, confused. I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back lightly.

“I’m just not gonna go to the studio tomorrow, I don’t care what Paul says, I’ll just leave the bloody band.” John continued to vent, and I was shocked at his sudden show of emotion. John liked to stay to himself, even though we’ve been together for a year now, he could be distant. Especially lately, he’s been so distant, I knew Paul was being hard on them all, but I didn’t know it was bringing John down this much. He was bad at communicating but I understood the way he acted was correlated with how he was raised. Before I was able to say anything, John started to speak again.

“I’m really sorry y/n I know things have been hard, and I know I haven’t been exactly helpful, please don’t leave.” John pleaded, and his soft voice pulled at my heart strings. I felt my eyes start to get watery, as I held John closer.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Johnny, I would never, no matter what. Everything will be okay, I’m sorry I haven’t been understanding of your issues. I love you.” I kissed his forehead, I couldn’t help but cry. I loved John so much, and it hurt to think he thought I would leave him because he’s been upset.

“Let’s go up to bed, love, you need some rest,” I said again, grabbing his hand to lead him up to our room. He followed like a lost puppy, and I held him close, and he held me close, and I knew everything would be okay.

-

“Good morning, lovely,” John spoke, and I smiled leaning up to kiss him. Everything was okay.

(AN, that’s right fellas we using John Lennon to vent, sorry if this was short, I’ll probably post a few like this because we use John Lennon as a coping mechanism 😎)

[lovinmullen]

Tyrus Soulmate AU:                  I Don’t Know a Tyler??

Special shout out to my love, my happiness, my best friend @wanna-feel-alive for editing and improving this fic greatly !! I love you so god damn much Mackenzie, thank you for your help and your talent blessing my fic sksks !!!!

(the amount of editing she did shes basically  a co-writer so give her some love)

Summary: On Cyrus’ 16th Birthday he is so tremendously excited to receive his soul mark but when he is greeted with the name Tyler on his collar bone and not TJ like he expected, a number of emotions arise until TJ agrees to help Cyrus solve the mystery of who in fact this Tyler could be.

word count: 1900. // OKAY I KNOW SHES THICC BUT ITS WORTH IT I PROMISE XOXOXO

———————————- <3

Cyrus’ eyes fluttered open softly as his heart began to race. He shot up to the memory of what today was, it was the day of his 16th birthday, the day he would get his soul mark. Excitement ran through his whole body as he thought about whose name would be printed softly on his collar bone.

The brunet was the youngest of his friend group which meant all his friends got their soul mark before him. Marty had Buffy, Amber had Andi, Walker had Jonah, and TJ, well no one knew TJ’s soulmate except for his siblings, Amber and Marty. TJ had sworn them to secrecy. Cyrus didn't understand but he didn't question it for he knew all too well that if Teej wanted him to know he would tell him, they are best friends after all.

Cy shook the thought away as the morning fuzziness, which had concealed his sight, finally started to wear off as he reached for the neck of his top in an effort to quickly reveal the name but just as he was about to do so he got rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Honey, TJ is here!” Leslie called sweetly. Maybe the interruption wasn't so rude after all, Cyrus thought. Suddenly the brightest smile was forming on the younger boys face as the dirty blond ran in screaming “HAPPY BIRTHDAY UNDERDOG!!” while he jumped onto the bed playfully so he could be close enough to ruffle the other boy's hair.

“I know it's not a lot but I had to get my lil’ muffin man something am I right?” The athlete laughed out timidly, his once playful demeanour now morphing into a tense/awkward one as he moved himself to sit beside Cyrus.

Cy carefully lifted the lid of the box to be greeted with a glistening gold necklace with a simple yet beautiful Star of David resting on the bottom of the chain. Cyrus’ smile grew even wider as he leapt onto his amazingly supportive friend, engulfing him in a hug thanking him repeatedly.

“No need to thank me Muffin, what are best friends for,” a soft smile started to tug at the corner of TJ's lips as he continued “hey have you checked your soul mark yet?” Cyrus’ eyes widened as an excited look spread across his whole face, slowly he reached for his shirt once again but before he could continue, fear took over him so he decided to close his eyes as he pulled it down slightly.

“Teej, you read it, I can’t. I don't want to. I-” TJ cut him off by giggling as he read with a knowing smirk.

“Tyler” , Cyrus’ brows furrowed as he opened his eyes confusion overtaking his whole body.

“Tyler? Who is Tyler?” The shorter boy moaned out in confusion. “I don't know a Tyler?” Teej’s whole body tensed and he didn't know if it was from excitement or fear, he hadn't decided yet but whatever it was, it was definitely there. Suddenly a little giggle escaped TJ’s lips as his hand brushed over Cyrus’ collar bone, while he whispered “Underdog” solemnly to himself, causing him to come to the educated conclusion it was excitement.

This, however, did not go unnoticed by Cyrus, whose eyes snapped over to TJ but before he could question anything the dirty blond basketball player laughed again, followed by him saying “We should get breakfast Muffin, after all, you can’t figure out mysteries on an empty stomach! Get ready and changed for school. I can take you to a bakery on the way if you’d like?”

With confusion overwhelming him, all Cyrus could do was simply nod but for TJ, that was good enough because he was already running out the door and downstairs. Sleepily and still very much confused he pulled on some pale blue skinny jeans his new necklace from TJ and the taller boys oversized black hoodie. Cyrus wasn’t sure why it was in his room, nor when or how it got there, but he knew the comforting smell of the athlete would calm him down. After all, with all this confusion and disappointment regarding his soul mark reading Tyler and not TJ liked he hoped, he was going to need his best friend and current crushes hoodie more than ever.

In the Jewish boy's sleepy state he pulled the jumper over his head to be greeted with the fact that he had placed it on backwards. Sighing as he goes to turn it around, Cyrus is stopped dead in his tracks as he is met with an old washed out label. He giggled to himself as he thought maybe now he can finally learn TJ’s full name! He examined the fabric again and again but he was just too tired to try and decode not only the messy handwriting but also how light it was. Little did he know if only he spent a few more seconds studying the name he could have realised that Tyler was a lot closer to home than he thought.

“Underdog come on we’re going to be late at this rate!” TJ called up the stairs, Cyrus takes that as his cue to stop daydreaming so he begins to walk down the stairs.

“You look fucking adorable.” TJ greeted Cyrus as soon as he was down the stairs.

“Thanks, it's a new jumper.” Cyrus flirtatiously replied with a wink. Where on earth was this confidence coming from? He wondered as he headed towards TJ’s car. After wishing his mother goodbye and a good day he was trying to keep the eye contact, or anything, with TJ to a minimum now that his confident streak had disappeared and he reminds himself that there's no point, TJ already knows his soulmate and he is probably 100 times better than Cyrus. Maybe he should just focus on Tyler and maybe, just maybe, admit and realise it’s time to move on.

-

As TJ and Cyrus walk through the doors into school, side by side it isn't long until they get bombarded by the group. Cyrus is having birthday wishes thrown at him alongside everyone asking about his soul mark. He doesn't understand why everyone is so interested and quite frankly they shouldn't be because he doesn't want to talk about it. In a heated moment of annoyance, he ignores them all, pushing through them abruptly and harshly in order to get to his locker.

Buffy and Andi’s face’s immediately fall, simultaneously shooting death stares at TJ, before heading to Cy’s locker.

“Cy, what's up?” Buffy asks softly, almost as if she was any louder, he would break.

“Please talk to us Cyrus, maybe we can help.” Andi reasons, Cyrus just sighs as he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

“It's not TJ, the soul mark its not TJ.” He whispers softly, his voice cracking slightly in the middle. Salty tears start to stream down his rough skin as he carries on. “I know this is stupid, I know I shouldn't be crying, but I wanted it to be him so bad and I-”

“Hey, Underdog what's going o- Wait, holy shit you’re crying what's up?” TJ interrupted his voice flooding with worry.

“You two need to talk” Buffy says calmly with a slight smile on her face. How is she smiling? Why is she smiling? Does she know something I don’t? Cyrus thought, his head flooding with confusion making him all the more angry. TJ could sense this so he perks up.

“That's an amazing idea, Buffy! Cy put your bag in your locker, I’m taking you to the swings. Let's go!” TJ said, his voice dripping with excitement.

“No, schools starting in ten minutes, he can’t do that!” Andi states angrily, looking at Buffy for support. TJ rolls his eyes at her.

“Hey, don't tell him what he can’t do. For your information Muffin and I have study period first so it doesn't matter if “school starts in 10 minutes”. Cyrus is upset and we’re gonna fix that no matter the time.” TJ stops to look around and then his smile widens when he locks eyes with Amber.

“Cover for us will ya sissy?” He pleads with puppy dog eyes. Those god damn puppy eyes, Cy thought.

“What am I supposed to tell them?” Amber asks, clearly exasperated.

“I don't know? Say Cyrus ran into a glass door and he's down at medical or something?”

“Wow, that one hit close to home.” Cyrus stated while giggling.

“Well, I had to make it believable didn't I Underdog?” TJ playfully asked, a lazy smirk covering his face.

The boys laughed and Cyrus started to wipe away the tears from his face as he calmed down. Suddenly though, Cyrus’ hand felt weighted, confusion flooding his thoughts he looked down to see TJ’s hand, interlocked with his own.

“Come on, we’re going to the swings!!”

-

Ten minutes had gone by of the boys just sitting there in comfortable yet awkward under toned silence. It was TJ who broke the silence by grabbing Cyrus’ hand and saying without turning to look at him, not being able to bare the thought of looking into his eyes.

“Did I ever tell you my real name?” He whispered, before hastily continuing on, “what it stands for, I mean.” He could see out of the corner of his eye, Cyrus reluctantly shaking his head.

“Tyler.” He said while smiling, “Tyler Joseph Kippen.”

Cyrus got up from the swing so he was able to stand in front of TJ and he bent down onto his knees while placing his finger under TJ’s chin to lift his head up softly.

“So my soulmate, the name Tyler on my collar bone, that correlates to you?” As confirmation, TJ nods as he pulls down the hem of his shirt to reveal in the most beautiful cursive writing “Cyrus”.

Cyrus’ whole face lights up with joy as he pulls TJ in for a hug.

“Can I kiss you?” Cyrus asks, hopeful and excited yet timid. TJ nods his head so hard Cy is surprised he didn't get whiplash.

“plEASE!” TJ begs as his voice cracks.

“You fucking dork!” Cyrus calls out before closing the gap between their lips. The kiss is short but sweet. pure and wonderful, filled with longing and desire. Cyrus starts to giggle and smile widely into the kiss, causing TJ to pull away in confusion.

“What so funny?” TJ huffs out, but all he was greeted with was Cy mimicking his early voice break.

“pLEaSe!!” Cyrus said, giggling at his over exaggeration of TJ’s voice.

“Oi.” He replies sarcastically “I think I deserve another kiss to make up for this bULLYING!!” TJ says playfully, a pout gracing his lips.

“God, you really are a dork.” Cyrus laughs softly kissing his soulmate again.

_____

Let's just say when the boys headed to second-period hand in hand, there were no more tears but there was a very concerned English teacher.

“Cyrus?? Oh, thank God you’re here, I heard you ran into a glass door and I’ve been worried sick! Are you okay? Are you bleeding? Are you feeling better now?”

“Amber” Cyrus mumbles as he begins laughing uncontrollably...

“I told you it was a believable excuse” TJ whispered lovingly, giggling in his ear.

“Yes miss, I’m okay.” Cyrus turns to look at TJ before continuing, “more than okay.”

-------------------------------- <3

hey guys !!! I hope you all enjoyed it. I was forced to post this by my am gc after I shared the idea. once again thank you so much, so so much to my favourite person who helped to edit this !!!!

here's the tag list???? (the people in my group who wanted a tag sksk) here you go, Merry Christmas

@judgemental-llama  @tyrus-is-endgame-fight-me @emmy2024riggs @a-bittersweet-gal  @cxrus-kippen