#i feel like everyone in my life is sick of me

[russellsppttemplates]

Bridging the Gap (Lando Norris)

A look into the Norris family summer vacation

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is 4 years older than Lando, media scrutiny

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

The low hum of the television filled the cozy apartment as you and Lando sat on the sofa, nestled comfortably under a soft blanket as his hands absentmindedly traced patterns on your thigh. Lately, it was one of your favorite pastimes - catching up on a show after a long week and simply enjoying each other's presence without having the world around you.

Life with Lando was unexpectedly delightful. His infectious laughter and zest for life were contagious, and even the most mundane days seemed brighter with him around, no matter how many clients you had that day or how much reading you had to do before their next sessions. At the beginning, you couldn't wrap your head around how the way your routines still laced together despite the seemingly different responsibilities, but you cherished the balance you shared.

"Do you have a busy day tomorrow?", your boyfriend asked.

"I have 8 clients, as two of them already cancelled because they're sick, but I managed to adjust the schedule and hopefully I have some time to go to the bank and see about my mortgage payments", you said.

"And in that rearranged schedule, is there a possibility of you spending the night here so we can wake up together before you go be a boss lady?", he wondered as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, softly kissing the skin there.

"I have to be in the office at before 10 am, Lan, I can't have a lie in", you reasoned.

"I have to be up at 7 am to go on a run with Jon, so neither can I", he smirked, knowing he had all the reasons to convince you to stay, "we can have some breakfast together before you leave me".

"I guess I have time to pop home, change and get to work on time", you reasoned, agreeing with his plans.

"I'm glad you think that because my next step was going to kidnap you for the night - I'm talking locking the doors and throwing away the keys", Lando spoke.

Your laughs rubbled as Lando squeezed you tighter against him, basking in the warm feeling on his chest of having you for the rest of the night.

.

A few weeks later, Lando told you Max and Pietra would be in Monaco for a week since they hadn't spent some time together in a while.

"Do you know how your week is going to be? In terms of your schedule I mean", Lando mused, holding your waist as you stirred the food in the pot.

"I had some people move around from their usual schedule, so the weekdays end late but I don't have many appointments on Friday and I have Saturday off", you spoke.

"That's good, means we can spend a nice long weekend together", Lando smiled, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin there, "I'm not sure of all the plans yet but it’ll be fun! And they’re eager to meet you", he grinned, optimism lighting up his face.

"I'm excited to meet them too", you spoke, despite the one looming shadow. The thought of meeting Lando’s close-knit circle always brought a tinge of anxiety with it. His friends were used to seeing him as the carefree poster child of single life - never missing a party or the chance to get a little drunk. Hell, the idea that Lando would rather stay in on a Friday night, watching his girlfriend cook them dinner after spending the afternoon waiting for her to finish her online sessions would baffle Max and all of his friends.

And though Lando never seemed to mind, the idea of them questioning your relationship because of your age gnawed at your insecurity. Even when you were younger, the party scene wasn't your thing and as the years passed, it certainly didn't become it. You were fine with Lando enjoying himself whenever he wanted to and never once objected to that, but feared that his friends would question it.

"There's something on your mind, I can tell that", Lando spoke softly, "would you like to share it with me?".

"It's just...", you tried, knowing he would be able to tell you were lying and knowing that sharing this with him could ease your fears.

"Doesn't have to sound pretty or polished, I just want to know what is on your head", he encouraged softly.

"Maybe they won't want to spend time with me? They're coming here to see you and spend time with you, and there's always the possibility that they might now want to spend time with me", you let it out.

"Why do you think that?", he continued softly.

"Because I'm not hard-core, adrenaline seeking fun!", you added.

"Lovie, the plans we have are just enough fun for everyone, I didn't to do anything too hard-core and they don't either, so we'll be good and have plenty of fun together, yeah?", Lando assured, turning you around and kissing your forehead.

"You are starting to have a way with words", you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin in such a protective manner, like no harm in the world could get to you if he was near.

"I catch on a thing or two you say", your boyfriend mumbled, kissing your lips slowly.

"I have to take my lunch to the office tomorrow, I don't have time to come home", you mumbled more to yourself than anything, taking a tupperware box from the cupboards so you wouldn't end up without your packed lunch.

"Pack two of them and I'll meet you in the office", Lando said like it was nothing.

"Sorry, what?", you asked again, afraid you had misheard him.

"You can pack two of them to go and I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow so you don't eat lunch all alone", Lando suggested.

"You don't have to", you reasoned.

"I know I don't, but I want to", Lando smiled, "the next couple of days are going to be busy for me and I need to fill up on time with you so my heart won't miss you as much".

He was ever the charmer and you still blushed at his words, not used to this no matter how many times he did it.

"Fine, but you can't mess up the crayons this time! You left one of them on the floor and I saw my life flash before my eyes when I stepped on it and nearly fell! No funny business in my office!", you joked.

"Does that mean we can't play Jenga and talk about my feelings? How dare you do that to me, woman?", Lando dramatised.

.

The first night of the week Max and Pietra would be spending in Monaco arrived quickly, and while the full day of sessions certainly kept your mind away from all of it, you found yourself at the door of your boyfriend's apartment waiting for him to get it.

"Hello, beautiful", Lando greeted as soon as he saw you, kissing your lips before letting you in, "let me take these", he said as he grabbed your bag and your coat.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm a bit late but the last session ran a bit longer than I expexted", you apologised, smoothing over your jeans and checking how you looked in the mirror - after the day you had, you couldn't expect much but you were pleasantly surprised that your hair was still bouncy and forgoing makeup was probably a good idea because you would have smudged it by now.

"You look beautiful as always, Y/N", Lando grabbed your attention, "and don't worry, take out is late too so you don't need to feel bad", he assured, guiding you with him to the living room where the noise was coming from.

"Guys, this is Y/N", Lando announced as they both welcomed you warmly, quickly asking you questions and letting you join in, preparing a drink for you.

"I'm usually heavy handed, but this one is proper, Y/N", he offered you before you took a sip, "I can fix a different one though!".

"It's good, it's good - hits the spot very nicely", you smiled, taking another sip before engaging in conversation.

When the food arrived, Lando asked you to join him in the kitchen to help him plate everything up and bring it to the dining table, opting to use the door closest to it so it would be easier.

As you crossed rhe hallway, you overheard Max and Pietra talking.

“Do you think it works?”, Pietra asked, “I mean, they seem happy, but Lando’s… well, Lando".

Max shrugged, “He’s crazy about her. Age doesn’t matter, does it? But yeah, never thought he’d settle, at least not like this".

You felt a small knot form in your stomach, but before you could dwell on it, Lando appeared at your side, his familiar warmth instantly reassuring as he placed his hand on the small of your back, “You alright?” he asked, noticing the brief flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

“Yeah", you smiled, deciding in that moment that the security you had together was worth navigating any doubts from others.

As the evening continued, you noticed Max and P exchanging skeptical glances across the table - they're were known for their protective nature over Lando, Max is his bestfriend, so they are particularly wary of anyone close to their beloved friend.

Over the clinking of silverware and hum of conversations, Max finally spoke up, his tone casual but inquisitive, "so, how’s it really going, being with a guy who practically lives on a racetrack?”.

You felt Lando's reassuring nudge beneath the table, prompting you to respond with honesty, "It's definitely something else. Racing is such a demanding world, but we find balance by making time for each other away from it all. So far, it has worked out well".

P leaned back, observing the dynamic between the you, "there must be a lot of pressure, especially with so many eyes watching your every move".

Lando chimed in before you could respond, "Y/N handles it like a champ. Honestly, she’s the calm in my storm", he said, his eyes filled with admiration for you. There wasn't a day that you didn't handle it gracefully, whether it was a fan wanting to take a photo or a reporter wanting to know more than you allowed.

Max and P exchanged another look, this time softer and less guarded - little by little, they began to see what Lando meant by his earlier assurance that you kept him grounded.

As dinner progressed, the conversation turned to shared stories, with Lando guiding the discussion to include moments from your relationship - your mutual love for travel, how you introduced him to the joy of quiet moments, and even shared a humorous tale of your early dates, laughter erupting when he recounted an incident involving mistaking your office with the one next to yours, Lando accidentally entering the lawyer's waiting room with a massive bouquet of flowers and passes to golf.

Max's initial skepticism gradually melted away as he watched you interact. Lando's attentiveness was unmistakable - how he would lean in to catch your words over the din of conversations, or how his eyes crinkled in genuine amusement at your stories. He noticed how effortless and natural your connection seemed, a seamless blend of companionship and partnership.

By the time dessert came around, Pietra seemed convinced, "Alright, alright. I can see what everyone’s been talking about. You both really seem to understand each other in a way that's rare".

"You say that like we don't!", Max complained.

"Shut it, Max, you know what I mean", she mumbled.

Feeling the warmth of acceptance flood the room, Lando laid his hand over yours on the table, grinning with relief and contentment, "Told you she was amazing,” he said, playfully raising his eyebrows.

Max chuckled, raising his glass, "Okay, I admit defeat, I'm not sure we are like this!".

It was in that moment that you realized, the whispers of doubt that had once lingered were no match for the clarity of Lando’s affection. Together, you were creating a narrative all your own, one that defied stereotypes and embraced your unique bond.

.

As the days passed after the gathering, the glow of being surrounded by Lando’s friends began to fade, replaced by the nagging unease that had settled in your mind. You found yourself replaying the conversations from that night, the laughter, the glances, and especially Max's comment, which you still couldn’t quite shake off despite the way the night ended.

One evening, after a long day at work, filled with sessions and schedule arrangements thanks to the flu season, you sat on the sofa, scrolling through social media.

Your heart sank as you stumbled upon a headline featuring Lando. The article speculated about his relationships and how he was often deemed the ultimate bachelor, writing that they believed he wasn't about to change his ways. The more you read, the harder it became to ignore your worries.

Later that night, Lando arrived from his photoshoot, his laughter echoing as he stepped through you door. He instantly brightened the room with his presence, but you struggled to muster so much as a smile.

“Hey! Long day?”, he asked, tilting his head slightly, concern etched across his features as he took a good look at you.

“Just tired", you replied with a half truth. As you settled down, you felt the weight of the unspoken words pressing on your chest, knowing that sooner or later they would find their way out.

“Is everything okay?”, Lando probed, sensing the shift in your mood. Even when you had a bad day, the reception he got wasn't like this.

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling, Do you ever think about what people say… about us?”.

Lando paused, confusion washing over his face, "What do you mean?”.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down, "Like, the way the media talks about you. Or how your friends might see us. What if they don’t accept me? They might think I’m not right for you… for your image".

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, “Why would you think that?”.

“Because it’s true!”, you almost spat, frustration bubbling to the surface, "You’re this young, popular and successful Formula One driver, and I’m just… well, me. What if they think I’m just an older woman trying to latch onto your fame? What if they don’t see how happy we are?”.

“Stop it", he said gently, but firmly, “you’re not ‘just’ anything, or someone. You’re incredible, and I’m with you because I want to be. Age is just a number and it doesn’t define how meaningful our relationship is, not to me and it shouldn't be to anyone".

But your doubts resurfaced, relentless as you continued with your voice rising with each word, “But what if your family doesn’t feel the same? What if they think I’m not good enough for their sweet boy? I just… I can't help but overthink it. I love you, and I’m terrified of losing you".

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his and grounding you with his touch, something you explained to him early on that worked wonders for you, “I can’t control what others think, but my family will see how happy you make me. They care about my happiness, not just some number or date".

“But what if they don’t?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. Over the years, you could remember the times where you told patients exactly that, that their mind was looking for survival so that's where it took them.

“They will!", Lando stated, his grip tightening slightly, “Look, it’s not going to be like this forever. People talk, and yes, media can be ruthless, but what matters is how we feel about each other. And I feel lucky to have you in my life. Please trust that, my love".

You looked for reassurance in his eyes as slowly his words began to soothe the turmoil, but the fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.

“I just don’t want to complicate things for you", you said softly.

Lando brushed his fingers against your cheek, a gentle smile breaking through your anxiety, "you’re not complicating things. You’re adding to my life in a way I never knew I needed. Can we just take this one step at a time together?”.

Lando pulled you into a warm embrace, and for a moment, the weight on your heart lightened. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself to stay in the moment and be there.

“I’ll try", you finally spoke against his shoulder, feeling comfort in his unwavering support.

“I promise I'm not going anywhere", he whispered back, wrapping you tighter in his arms, "we’re in this together".

"Thank you", you mumbled, pecking his lips softly.

"You don't ever need to thank me, not for stuff like this or anything else, we're in this together, lovie", Lando kissed your forehead, "besides, if you ever dump me, I'll have to find a good psychologist to help me through it and you're the best one, so that's another valid point for us to stay together", he chuckled, wanting to get a giggle out of you.

Smiling when he succeeded, Lando squeezed you tighter against him, "never doubt that we were meant to be, Y/N, never".

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 3

// Sorry for the delay; I had some things to take care of, so I couldn’t focus on writing the fanfic. But~, I finally finished the 3rd chapter and even started working on the 4th one… ohoho, that one’s going to be interesting. 👀

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Place: Rejet Labels building

Ayato: A hotel, huh? Well… whatever they will make us do there, it can’t be that bad, right?

Subaru: Dunno about you, man, but as soon as I know I’m being filmed, I’m pretty much doomed to mess it up.

So yeah, it actually is that bad for me!

Ayato: Haa… relax a little, will you?

At least you’re not going to be stuck on the farm like the Hyung line. If you think working at the hotel sucks, imagine milking cows in the middle of a mud pit!

Subaru: Eww! G-Gross!

Ayato: Yeah, exactly! So, quit whining!

Subaru: Heh, I gotta wonder how they even convinced Reiji to go there. Knowing him, he wouldn’t last five minutes in a place like that!

Ayato: I bet the manager kept the farm thing a secret. If Shu knew, he would have faked being sick in a heartbeat!

— someone spies on them —

???: Hmm…

Kanato: Laito, what on earth are you doing?

— Laito flinches —

Laito: Oh my…— Kanato-kun, didn’t your parents teach you about not interrupting people when they’re in the middle of something~?

Kanato: Well, I’m sure your parents made it very clear that spying on people isn’t appropriate either, but here you are, completely ignoring that little life lesson.

Laito: Nfu, touché.

Kanato: Now tell me, what is this all about?

Laito: Nothing important~. I’m just trying to figure something out.

Kanato-kun, don’t you think Ayato-kun has been acting a bit… different lately?

Kanato: That depends. What exactly do you mean by "different"?

Laito: Isn’t it obvious? It feels like he started ignoring me.

Kanato: That might just be your imagination.

Laito: Hmm… Something still doesn’t sit right with me.

Kanato: If this is causing you so much concern, it would be best to ask Ayato directly what’s going on with him.

— rolls eyes —

Laito: ( You don’t get it. )

Place: Hotel

Co-worker 1: They’re on their way!!

Co-worker 2: Someone, pinch me! I’m about to faint!

Yui’s monologue

Today is the big day!

The hotel staff has been working tirelessly ever since they got wind of the idol announcement.

They’ve been running around, handling everything with meticulous attention to detail, so as to make sure that everything runs smoothly.

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’ve only been in Tokyo for less than a week, and now I’m about to meet two members of one of the biggest groups at the moment.

It somehow feels surreal…!

Although, I really do wish Hana-san could be here as well… She’s the one who deserves to see Ayato-san in person more than I do. But, I suppose there’s nothing that can be done about it.

For this reason, I genuinely hope I’ll be able to get that autograph for her.

Receptionist: This is bad, this is really bad!

Yui: …!

Did something happen?

Receptionist: Unfortunately, yes! Our porter fell down the stairs while getting ready and broke his ankle.

He won’t be able to come in today, and with all positions already filled, it will be impossible to find a replacement!

Yui: Oh no… That’s awful!

( Everyone has put in so much effort to make this day perfect, and it’s just so unfair for something like this to happen out of nowhere! )

But... is there really no one available to pick the luggage and take the boys to their rooms? I don’t think it would take too much time, and the person could easily get back to their usual tasks afterward. Surely someone can step in, right…?

Receptionists: If you’re so confident about that, why don’t you volunteer then?

Wait— That’s it! You could totally do that!

Yui: M-Me!?

( This is not the way I was going for! )

Receptionists: Exactly!

You're a work-exchange girl, right? Your role in these tasks isn’t as crucial as an actual employee’s, therefore your presence isn’t that essential.

That means you could skip whatever task you're doing and step in as the porter today before anyone even notices!

Yui: ( Did I just get called ‘useless’ indirectly? )

I… I would love to help in this situation, but, I’m sorry, I’m not qualified enough for such a job.

( I doubt I would be able to carry the luggage to begin with. Who knows how heavy they are with everything packed inside? )

Receptionists: I beg you, Komori-san!

If you’re worried about whether a girl can handle it, these boys will just stay until tomorrow. They most likely won’t have a lot with them.

Yui: Uuh…

( If it’s just for one day… )

— sighs —

Alright, I accept.

Receptionist: Thank you… Thank you so much!

If there’s any way I can repay you for this, just let me know!

Yui: Ah, there’s no need to. I know you’ve all been working hard for this, so it’s the least I can do.

Receptionist: Well, on a positive note, you'll be the one leading the boys to their rooms, which definitely makes you luckier than the rest of us.

I think this experience alone is rewarding enough, fufu.

Yui: …!

( Wait, I hadn’t really thought about it like that— This will be the closest anyone in the hotel gets to them today, won’t it? )

( I know I should be excited about it, especially since I’ll be able to ask for that autograph for Hana-san, but... ah, I’m feeling so nervous all of a sudden! )

Receptionist: ( The limo arrived! )

Komori-san, go to the hallway!

The driver will soon bring their luggage there, where you’ll have to wait for them. Once they enter, the hallway entrance will automatically close, and then the three of you will head towards their room.

— lends her keys —

I hope the instructions were clear enough. Good luck!

— Yui nods and quickly leaves —

Place: Hotel hallway

Yui: ( Phew, I can’t believe I made it in time. )

( I’m already starting to hear voices, so they must be clo—— )

— entrance opens —

Yui: …!

Ayato: ( Is that… a girl? )

Subaru: ( Hah!? Who even thought it would be a good idea to make a girl a porter? Can she even lift our stuff—? )

Yui: ( No way… they’re even more handsome in real life…! )

( I’d better avoid looking at their faces, otherwise I’ll get too nervous to even concentrate! )

W-Welcome to the “Yume no Mori” hotel. It’s a pleasure to have you here!

— bows and takes luggages —

( Hooh… heavy! )

Please, follow me.

— they start walking —

Subaru: ( Dunno if it’s just me, but I’m low-key starting to get second-hand embarrassment watching her struggle like that. )

Ayato: ( Why would they even hire such a weakling for this type of job? I thought this was supposed to be a 5-star hotel, but maybe they’re just out of budget or something? )

Yui: ( The receptionist told me they’ll be leaving tomorrow, but what on earth did they even pack in these things? My arms feel like they’re about to fall off! )

Subaru: Oi! You… Do you need help?

Yui: Eh?

— looks up —

Ayato: ( Subaru, what are you doing? )

— brushes his hand off —

Can’t you see? This is her responsibility, not yours, so let her do her job.

If she’s not capable of taking it seriously, then she just shouldn’t be working here anymore and risk damaging the hotel's reputation.

Yui: ( Such cold words… )

( While it’s true that I’m not cut out for the porter job, saying something like that to someone is simply uncalled for…! )

A-Anyway, thank you, but there’s no need to. We just arrived to your room.

— opens door and hands them keys —

By the way… I would like to apologize for my poor performance.

The truth is, I am deeply grateful for this opportunity and I——!

*THUD*

( Did they just… slam the door in my face? )

Place: Hotel room

Subaru: Man, the hell’s wrong with you?

Ayato: With me!? You’re the idiot who offered to do her job in the first place!

Subaru: I was just trying to help, okay!? Am I not allowed to do anything without getting chewed out for it now?

Ayato: Tch… you’re so oblivious that it’s giving me a headache. This person works at one of the most prestigious hotels in Tokyo, she should know better!

Imagine putting your trust in someone, only for them to screw up so badly that it could end up destroying everything.

Subaru: But she didn’t even screw up, she was just struggling, that’s all!

Seriously, what’s going on? All this time, you’ve been known as the friendliest person to the fans. You even helped the bodyguard hold the concert fence, for crying out loud!

So what’s with this sudden shift in attitude, huh?

Ayato: That’s…— Well, things have changed! There’s a lot more going on behind the scenes that you don’t even see.

If I keep acting as I once did, the consequences won’t just fall on me—they’ll affect all of us, understood!?

( I just can’t afford to be selfish again… The choices I make now have an impact on others, and I have to be more mindful of that. )

Subaru: I mean… if you put it like that, it makes sense, but you still shouldn’t lose yourself in the process, y’know?

At the end of the day, no matter how much someone screws it up, we... we’re a team, so yeah, we’ll have to find a way to fix it together, I guess.

( Damn, I'm really not good at putting these things into words! )

Ayato’s monologue

"We’re a team."

Those words are supposed to be reassuring, but why do they only make me even more nervous…?

What will truly happen if I put the group in danger, huh? Will they really back me up, or just turn their backs on me?

Shu doesn’t seem like the type to overlook such mistakes—he basically said as much the other days.

As for Reiji and Kanato… Yeah, forget it. They’d make it sound even worse.

And Laito… he’s the one I’ve always been closest to, but even with him… I don’t know. A part of me can’t shake the feeling that if it came down to it, he’d take their side too.

So that only leaves Subaru.

However, knowing him, he’d probably just end up jumping on the bandwagon too. No way that guy would want to be seen as my accomplice or something like that.

Haa… that would indeed be an uncomfortable situation.

After all, no one likes to have shade thrown at them.

…!

( Wait—! )

( Exactly! No one would like that! )

— stands up and heads towards door —

Subaru: Oi, where are you going—?

Ayato: I have to solve something, I’ll be right back.

— leaves —

Subaru: Ok…?

Place: Hallway

Ayato: ( That’s true, I was too harsh on the porter. I didn’t stop to think about what she might have been going through. )

( Maybe she was having a bad day and by letting my own irritation get the better of me… well, I must have surely made it worse. )

( I mean, if I were criticized, I’d feel like crap too. It’s obvious nobody enjoys being judged, especially when they’re already struggling, right? )

( And yet… I did exactly that to her. )

( So yeah, I’ve gotta fix this! I’m going to find her and apologize, even if it’s super awkward. )

Oi, porter!

Author’s note:

*If you forgot what happened in the first chapter and are wondering why Ayato and Yui don’t recognize each other, well that’s because Ayato was wearing a mask and a cap back then, and they were also in the dark, so they couldn’t notice each other’s features well.

[coffeecat1983]

@dreamyluigi (I apologize in advance for any mistakes, I'm not well versed in the Paper Mario games)

TW: Blood, mention of suic*de, character death (be sure to read to the end!)

     "Ugh..." Mr. L hissed again, clutching at his head. The figure in red before him blurred. "What is th-this?"      "Weege?" Mario reached out, recognizing the signs of a severe migraine. "C'mon, lil bro, you gotta rest."      "Don't tell me what to do!" L snapped. He groaned again, stumbling backwards.

   A room in a little house. A warm, inviting bed draped in green blankets. Sleep. He just wanted to lay down. The bed beside him, the red one. It was empty.

Again.

   He fell to his knees, clutching his head in sheer agony. Unable to take it he ripped off his hat and mask, the fabric felt suffocating. He looked up, his steel grey eyes glimmering with a mixture of fear and hatred.      "Wh-What did you do to me?!" he cried out, doubling over. Words flooded his mind's eye, memories.

   He was there. Always there. Since they were kids that constant safety had always been there. Whenever he needed his brother he would just call and he was right there. Then he became a hero. Then their world changed. Their lives, changed.     "I'm sorry Weege, but maybe you should stay home this time."     "It's okay Weege, I got this, you can stay here."      "Heh, Mario left him behind again," a toad at the marketplace  said to another, thinking they were out of earshot. "Bet it's because he's useless."    He woke from a nightmare with his brother's name screamed out into the night. Yet no reply. He was alone, the one who claimed he would always be there was gone, risking his life for others.    Leaving him feeling forgotten.    It hurts. It hurts! IT HURTS!

   Mario went to step towards the now trembling figure only to freeze at the low voice.      "You left me." It wasn't the harsh condescending tone Mr. L had been using. It was that rusty, soft voice. A voice that normally would have made the older twin's heart sing. And yet something this time sent an icy chill through him.      "Weege?"      "You always leave me." Two voices chorused from the one man. "You said you'd always be there. You lied."    He looked up and Mario couldn't help but take a step back. It was like a scene from a horror movie. His brother's face split in two emotions, one grey eye filled with hatred, the other a sapphire blue filled with pain as tears streamed down his face. When he spoke, Mario again heard two voices.      "You always leave me." a shuddering sob as Luigi/L stood, moving like a drunken ragdoll. "They tease, they taunt, you never hear it." He lurched forward only to fall again as the room spun. "So much pain. It hurts... Mario, it hurts."      "Luigi, I never meant...!" Mario jerked back as Mr. L snarled, lunging at him before falling again.      "You're never there! You've dedicated yourself to everyone except me!" Mr. L howled before collapsing, writhing as he clutched at his head. Gasping he looked up, both eyes wild with inner conflict.      "Heh. Hehe." the laugh was cold, vacant. "You have no idea, d-do you?" he spoke in just L's voice. "He's screaming inside right now, screaming over what you've done." His hand slid down to his left leg, the hidden weapon Count Bleck had gifted him gliding neatly from it's sheath.   Mario felt sick when he saw the glint of the dagger. He held his hands up, taking a cautious step forward.      "Weege..."     "Don't call me that!" Mr. L slashed out, forcing Mario back. "Y-You, that name is a spell, isn't it? It does something to my head! MAKE IT STOP!" he was gasping now, his eyes flashing a mix of dull silver and sparkling blue. Mr. L paused as if listening to something. To someone.    If cruelty itself became human and could grin, it would wear the smile that briefly danced over L's features.

Continued in pt 2 here.

a brief moment of clarity

[reocidal]

FILM DIVA!

PAIRING ALHAITHAM X GN!READER

WARNINGS alhaitham gets hit by one (1) (soft) (cardboard) popcorn bucket, one (1) instance of swearing. romcom ish? vibes?

WORD COUNT 703

AUTHOR'S NOTE um. haha whats this @phantasmaebg

ALHAITHAM has always lived his life in black and white, clear cut rules and a perfect routine. he has no need for the mundane "joys" of everyday life, or whatever kaveh's been harping about most recently. he'd made that clear to himself — and everyone else — on his first day at the akademiya. he's skipped lunch dates and dinner dates and movie dates and hangouts with his friends (they're not his friends, he says) in lieu of studying more. black and white, study and sleep, that's all he needs in his life.

he thinks it's only fitting that you waltz unapologetically into his life, whimsical splashes of colour and noise as a sick sort of karma afterwards. you're loud and bright and your blood (he assumes) is liquid rainbows and you're everything he isn't. you're also dragging him to a movie theatre right now, and he really doesn't want to go.

there's a permanent scowl etched onto his face, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black hoodie. you'd told him to dress casual, and then gone through his entire closet when he'd opened the door in something appropriate only for the most depressing and sombre of funerals. after a lengthy consultation with "the committee", as you claimed — he thinks you just spoke to the other voices in your head — you'd come up with the most casual of outfits possible in his (rather hopeless) case. a dark hoodie, and even darker jeans.

"seriously, dude, get something nicer," you'd grumbled, and he'd glared at you in response, but the mental note was still made.

you're quite the contrast to him — what colour even is this? chartreuse? whatever you're wearing is absolutely hideous and would make anyone wearing it look even worse, but not you. never you, apparently. he really hates his brain, but you're positively glowing in this lettuce-coloured garbage bag.

the movie is boring; he prefers to look at you instead — though he'd never say that out loud. the micromovements of your face, the expressions that you make, bathed in the ever-changing multi-coloured light of the screen — it's all a thousand times more intriguing than whatever's going on in the film.

halfway through the film, you turn to him accusingly. "you're not paying attention!"

"i am," he protests, although without any effort to actually oppose your claim. you raise an unconvinced brow and he shrugs. "not that this needs a lot of attention to be given in order to be understood. it's quite simple, actually."

"that's one of my favourite movies ever," you snort. "you shouldn't insult people like that, you shit!"

how does he fix this?

"or consider," he begins, smooth, placating. "the simplicity of the film is the exact reason why it appeals to you. it provides you the comfort that you yearn for without making you feel the discomfort of having to use your brain."

"are you calling me dumb, alhaitham?"

he grimaces. "no, y/n, you're very smart. really."

unfortunately, he also accidentally uses his comfort unruly children voice and not his i am being sooo serious voice.

your empty popcorn carton hits him square in the jaw. he picks it off the floor (no littering!) and rubs his face with his free hand. "this was somewhat unnecessary, don't you think, y/n?"

"thanks for the heads up," you reply, rather unremorsefully. "it'll probably happen again."

he's never been happier to be alone with you, he decides. better to be embarrassed alone than in front of an audience. wait, technically he's the audience here, right? how confusing; he hates to think about it. the rest of the movie passes rather uneventfully — he pays a little more attention than before, and you tone down the physical violence to only one or two jabs that you declare are accidental. (he knows they're not.) on the way home, you buy him an ice pack and a meat stew: PIZZA edition; 40% off! as an apology.

back at home, alhaitham thinks it over and decides that he does not hate you at all. after all your antics today, it concerns him tremendously. surely… surely not. he doesn't do romance; this is impossible! yet, a pale flush spreads across his face all the same.

© reocidal 2024

[cloverfieldds]

someone requested for the full thing so um here ^^!

tw - detrans, religious play, cnc

being corrupted by a prest at a convent.

heading to a confessional full of guilt because you promised you wouldn’t engage in any more sinful behaviors or thoughts, but you’ve been binding lately and denying your god given sex.

you shyly step into the confessional box and stay silent as you’re scared to utter any words. its like you know that he knows why youre here.

“forgive me father..” you choke on your words, already ready to cry at the thought of his response.

“save it, my child. how many times are we to go through with this? i’m starting to think you want the devil to keep a hold on you.”

“no!” you cry out in desperation, feeling sick at the mere thought. “my body just feels wrong, father. like im not supposed to be… a girl”

no response. you can feel the disappointment through a heavy sigh followed by the opening of his door. your eyes begin to water as thoughts embrace your mind, telling you that he’s given up on you and that youre beyond healing. you stifle the cries threatening to leave your throat as your hands lay themselves over your lips. you’ve disappointed everyone in the church, not just yourself.

the door opens for you, only slightly, a crack of light hitting your eye as it does.

the priest locks eyes with you, a furrowed, disgusted expression on his face. “follow me,” he utters before turning around and leading you to his office.

you hesitantly follow him and look around the empty sanctuary, happy no one is there to have overheard anything, to have seen how disappointed youre making everyone. you step into his office, surprisingly for the first time, and watch as he gestures you to sit down, his seat right across from yours, save from his desk between you two. you sit in an uncomfortable silence and try your best to focus on not crying even though the tears are seconds from falling from your eyes.

the silence itself has gone on too long, it feels like it’s been hours of him just staring you down. you open your mouth to break it but as soon as you try speaking you choke and those tears start to fall. uncontrollable sobbing emits from your side of the desk and you begin wiping your tears slower than they fall. “im sorry.. m so so sorry father please dont be mad i tried please.”

you hear a slight groan from him as you cry out and force yourself to lock eyes with him. he is clearly irritated at you, but there is only so much you can do, right? this isnt really your fault. its the devil.

he calls out your name, “truthfully, youre trying your hardest—dedicating your life to the lord like you should be?” you shakingly nod. he falls silent once more and you find yourself looking down to the floor again. his eyes dont leave you but he still doesnt speak. this suffocation making you only more nauseated within yourself. “would you do anything to reconnect with the lord and fix yourself, my child?”

“yes! yes, father! i would!” you cry out.

“…come here.”

you look back up and watch as his chair slightly swivels to the right, indicating for you to walk around his desk and stand directly in front of him. tears continue streaming down your face as your eyes gaze upon his shoes. the same black leather shoes that youve seen a thousand times before during service. but this time it seems just a bit more humiliating.

“father..”

“hush, child.” his hand reaches toward your arm and slowly slides down to grab onto your hand. “god created these hands, my child. such girly, feminine hands,” he moves his hand to your hips, gladly watching you flinch at each and every movement. “such a godly frame going to waste. if your parents knew half of the things youve told me, im sure theyd strip you down to the core of your soul and make you apologize for every sin youve confessed to me.” you can feel every movement against your skin, slightly shaking as he slips his hand beneath your shirt, pausing as he gets to your binder. your breath hitches upon the realization.

“father.!”

“you confess your sins to me while still committing them?” you cant find it in yourself to respond. “take it off.”

you raise a brow, your crying coming to a temporary stop. “father.. could you.. turn around?”

“how am i sure you wont lie to me again? take it off. ill be watching.” your hands shake as you start to move, but you cant deny an order from the only person who knows your secret, the only one who can and would help you. he watches silently as you lift your top, hanging it on the wrist of your arm while you close your eyes and force the binder from your skin. you start to cry once more, but keep yourself going with the thought that hes just trying to help.

your binder is off, and you move to slide your shirt back onto your body, but quickly open your eyes back up once his hand grabs your wrist.

“did i say to put that back on?”

you shake your head, “but sir”

“put your hands down.” slowly, you listen to his command, only crying more at the action as you do. “stay still.” you watch as his hands move to your chest. you wanna say something, scream for help, anything, but you cant. everyone will know if they see, the binder you once wore so clearly laying out on his desk. your eyes close again as he starts to fondle you. and even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on your chest, almost like theyre following the movement of his own hands as he gropes and pinches at you. you hold in sounds of discomfort.

“this is what these are meant for. youre ruining yourself squishing them against that rib cage of yours. god’s creations are not meant to be hidden.” you wince as he pinches your nipple.

it feels like forever has gone by of him stimulating your chest, your thighs now subconsciously and slightly rubbing together as the feeling has started to turn you on. just as you hoped he wouldnt notice, you almost jump as he places a hand on the waistband of your boxers and starts to pull them down in a bundle with your pants. your hands shoot down to grip onto the fabric as your eyes lock with his. you can feel your heart skip a beat as he raises an eyebrow, a silent warning not to do anything stupid. you cant find it in yourself to move your hands. your binder- your chest is one thing but this? no one is supposed to see you like this.

“please.. ill be good, ill throw the binder and boxers and everything away, please,” you cry out as your fists tighten around the fabric.

he stares in silence as pleas leave your mouth on mindless repeat. within a few minutes his hands leave your pants and you can feel a wave of relief wash over you.

“get on your knees.” you shakingly fall to the floor, thinking nothing more than him sparing your nudity. your crying quickly stops once more as you watch him unbuckle his pants, staring at you as he does so. “youre going to cleanse yourself.” his dick is pulled from his boxers, stroking it with care as he stares at you. “ill teach you what it means to be a man, why you can never be one yourself.” and again, your tears begin to flow. you watch as his hand reaches for your hair, gripping it in your hands as you feel strands strain against your scalp. you cant beg anymore, your hand holds onto his wrist as a silent ask for mercy, but a sting is quickly felt on your cheek as a heavy hand makes impact with your cheek. “open.”

you oblige.

within moments, youre sucking off your pastor as he forces your tongue down his shaft, occasionally giving you instruction on how to make himself feel good. his thickness strains against the inside of your mouth as his moans fill your ears. your nipples rub against the cloth of his pants as he fucks your mouth, wetness forming in your boxers as he does so.

soon his moans grow longer, instructions of what to do turning more and more into praises from his lips. the praise sending a shiver down your spine. your face is suddenly pushed against his pubes as he twitches against you, cum shooting down your throat as you try your best to swallow in order to not drown in cum.

with a pop, dick is removed from your mouth as any remaining cum drips from your lips and down your chin. you look up at him with a pathetic, whiny look that sends blood straight back to his cock. “you have no idea how whorish you are, my child. stand up.”

you stand on his command and try simultaneously  wiping the tears from your eyes while removing the cum from your mouth. you watch his hand start to stroke his cock once more in a horrified silence. his hand moves back to your waistband and begins sliding them down once more. you dont have the will to stop him this time, but that doesnt stop you from begging him to not go through with this, making desperate promises of staying a girl and not going through with your transition. he ignores you as annoyance rises within him.

“ill make sure you stick to that.” quickly your pants and boxers are on the floor, a slight wetness on your inner thighs. slick coats them and youre guided to spread your legs as he licks his fingers and rubs your clit. “are you still a virgin, my child?”

you nod, embarrassed.

“tch,” he kisses his teeth. “the only godly thing about you.” you look away as he keeps on stimulating you, holding in your moans while your lips are coated in your own juices. just as you get used to the feeling, you can feel a foreign feeling at your lips, quickly looking down just in time to see him push a finger inside of you, a pained moan escape you as he does so. you cry out while your body falls forward and your hands find stability on his shoulders.

“no..!” you sob against him as he starts to move, not waiting for you to adjust to the feeling. “father! i havent.. please!”

he ignores you and continues to thrust in and out, the sound of your juices coating his finger filling your ears as his moans once did. quickly a second finger joins his first and you fully buckle over on top of him, your knee placed in between his legs on his chair as your pants drop and are left wrapped around one ankle.

“youll be ready soon, my child. dont cry.” he spits out disgustingly soothing words while you cry anyway. the thickness of his fingers is too much, and you can only imagine how painful itll be when he finally fucks you.

almost as if reading your mind, his fingers pull themselves out and his slaps your pussy before moving a hand back to his cock. “thatll be enough.”

your eyes widen as speaks, knowing yourself that it isnt enough at all. “no, father just a bit more.. please!”

he ignores you and gestures for you to climb on top of him as you cry out.

“no! no!” you grab his hand and lead it back towards your boycunt, pathetically grinding against it in hopes that hell continue to fingerfuck you. “see? just a bit more! please! pl-“

a harsh hand hits your cheek once more, that familiar sting shutting you up and stopping your cries.

“get up here or ill inflict a godly punishment onto you.”

your hand grips onto his shoulder for stability as you slowly climb on top of him, apologizing to god as you do. your lips tremble while you speak and do your best to keep from any more physical punishment.

his cockhead glides against your lips, the wetness from his spit, your slick, and his cum mixing together. he tries to push in, slipping against your lips as it doesn’t go. a simple “relax” leaves his mouth as if its that easy, but you try anyway. and within a few more tries, the pain from his initial entrance hits you. you let out a guttural moan as your head falls onto his shoulder, crying out in pain. he wastes no time moving deeper inside of you. your fingers grip onto his shoulders and you continue to beg for mercy. the tightness of your virgin walls doesnt help your desperation. with a final thrust, hes completely inside of you, listening to your heavy breathing as you subconsciously clench around his dick. he pauses for a bit, finally letting you catch your breath as he rubs circles on your back, calling you a good girl and loving the feeling of your pussy every time the words leave his lips.

“are you alright?” you shake your head, unable to speak. he doesnt seem to care.

his hands grip onto your hips and quickly start to thrust himself into you. you let out another painful cry, feeling nothing but regret. you wish you left the church and let him tell everyone. you wish you never took your binder off or let him remove your boxers. you wish your stupid boycunt didnt get wet from all the friction on your nipples. you wish you didnt let him grope and molest you like that. but it doesnt seem to matter. your hole burns and hes thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

“this is.. your role as a wom.. as a woman.” he groans into your ear. “do you hear me?” you can only sob out incoherent responses. “you were made.. made for this, my child.” you clench around his dick every time he speaks, like some dirty and raw part of you likes being spoken to like this. “thinking.. someone as slutty as you? someone so.. fuck,” you jump (well, as much as you can) at his swearing, “so clearly made for being penetrated was meant to.. to be a boy?”

“..m sorry.. sorry sorry” you apologize between chokes and cries.

“fuck.. even touching you is corrupting me. youll need to pray every hour if you want forgiveness at this.. at this rate.” you can feel your body convulsing at his words, begging him to stop because something unholy is clearly building up inside of you, but he doesnt care. if anything, he goes faster, finger moving towards your clit as he starts to rub with a painfully blissful harshness.

“such a perfect cunt.. fucking.. tight whore…” his teeth latch onto your neck as he continues to fuck you, wet sounds emitting from both of you and echoing around his office. “made to be bred. arent you?”

your head shots up as he thrusts against your gspot, watching your back arch as he does it once more. “no..! n..no! not ins..inside!” you fight back once more, hands pounding against his shoulders as you cum, crying out in agony while he keeps on fucking you. “please!”

his hand moves up to your throat, annoyed with your writhing and begging, aiming to cum inside you without care for your disarrayed demeanor.

within moments, his thrusts become more and more broken and disorganized. groans are forced into your ear as he pulls you towards him. you feel his cock twitch inside of you as hot cum coats your walls. you moan out, as much as you can with a hand gripped around your throat, before he releases you and allows your coughing fit on his shoulder, falling forward and trying to catch your breath while cum drips out of your full pussy.

a few moments of silence are interrupted as he begins to kiss up and down your neck before lifting you off of him. he smiles at the sound you make when he removes himself from your boycunt. youre lazily cleaned and redressed in a daze.

“i expect to see you at service this sunday, is that clear?” he buckles his pants back.

“..yes, father.”

[vampworks]

At Last

Pairing(s): Caleb xreader (platonic) Sylus x reader x Zayne( love triangle)

Caleb chooses the worst way to announce his homecoming or in other words, that one scene in Deadpool and Wolverine. "He has risen, baby girl." "Fuck!".

w/c: 3k

a/n: hours of dying inside and here we are. I want to thank pinterest, my cat, and the monster I drank. This game has me in shambles and I will never recover.

warnings: angst, comfort, trauma, pet names, intimacy, profanity, mentions of death, mentions of medication.

To the family of Josephine and Caleb Yizhou, we regret to inform you that, per verification process conducted by Linkon City Government. Both Josephine and Caleb have been officially recorded as decreased due the accident on the date of xx-xx-xx. We kindly request you to-

You could barely stomach reading the rest of the text. It has been nearly 3 years since you lost it all. Only now had they finished their investigation. How long did they take to realize what you had years ago. That your family was gone. Caleb was gone. With a new gift of nausea, you felt the numbness crawling back up again. The dread you thought you had grown customed to.

On the way to city hall, you cancel tonight’s date with Zayne with a text of your own. You didn’t even think of your promise to let him in more. Something came up, will explain later. Far too short for casual. It didn’t have the usual warmth you had when you spoke to him. You knew he would suspect something.  Hell, not even a heart at end of it. He probably thinks the world was ending for you. Maybe He’d be right. You have the spent the last 3 years trying to cope. Trying to rebuild any semblance of happiness. All of what. All it took was one text. One mention of their names for it to come crashing down. Congrats, you were still the hopeless kid thrown onto you ass from the blast. Staring at the burning remains of everything you’ve known.

Two weeks of haunting the earth with each step you took later. Everyone could see you hurting, it had made you numb to anything but work. Old habits die hard as they say. You took far too many missions only to burn through with berserk-like brutality.  Captain Jenna would have congratulated your latest efforts if it wasn’t for the thousand-yard stare you had with the floor every time you spoke. “Go home, y/ln” You couldn’t even muster an argument, so you packed your bag and trudged back to your empty apartment.

Finally, at your door, the sick feeling you had feeling eased for a single moment. A pair of strong arms had engulfed you leaving no room for escape. The familiar scent of gunmetal and rich cologne filled your senses. “Sy-“ you managed to let out in a huff. “Hello to you too, Kitten.” Normally you’d return his hug but once again the strength never came. With a huff of his own, the giant of a man lowers himself to his knees. Dark red eyes bore into e/c, so he looked for any signs of life, but you stared right back with a cold expressionless glaze. Still lost in the haze of it all. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, sweetie but please tell that you’re all right at leas.” He pleaded, his voice losing the honeyed sound for a much softer tone. “Please, y/n.”

After agonizing over trying to make any noise at all. Something rancid leaves your lips. “I’m fine, just leave alright. I can’t do this right now.”  You bite. The pleading eyes beneath you once again shift with a tired furrow in his brow. “You can’t do what? I came because you’ve been blowing off my calls. Zayne told me you skipped picking up your medication and the date that you planned with him.” You weakly pushed him away, reaching for the lock. His hand takes hold of your wrist. “Y/N”, more than a little stern. It was like talking to child, but it finally caught your attention. “What Sylus. I’m tired and I just want to sleep. I will get the damn pills in the morning and you’re both busy anyway. Just please let me go before I-’ The irritating chime of your phone cuts you off before you ruin the delicate facade of control. Another sigh and a painful glance up at him, you answer the call. “Hello” The hunter in you came out and sound just as cold as before. “Hello, am I speaking with Y/LN. Apologies of the late hour, but I called to deliver a message from Farspace Fleet command center, are you available at the moment?" The man asked, his chirper tone made you even more nauseous, but you agreed without a second thought. It was probably just courtesy since the investigation message you received. The man explained that fleet FSCV-001 would be returning to Sky haven soon and your presences was requested by a colonel by the name of Caleb Yizhou. The second shoe drops. Blood rushed to your head. The air ripped from your lungs.

Sylus caught you as your legs gave out from beneath you and brought you inside the apartment. It took every once of strength in your body to keep listening. “Ma’am, he also recorded a voice memo for you, I’ll play it for you now.  You shook away the tears that threatened to fall but it was too late. “Hey, pipsqueak. You’re not dreaming. Looks like you ‘ve been holding up well since I was gone. That’s precisely why I had to hurry back. Can’t give you a chance to forget about me. Don’t worry, I won’t disappear on you again- “You were now clinging to Sylus. Your nails are crawling against his back. The silky fabric bunching and wrinkling in your grasp but neither of you care. Gasping for breath as you hung on every word your lost friend spoke.

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t be afraid, I’m back now.” End of recording, Thank you for your time, Miss. You heard the bleep after he hung up. You were still fighting back the urge to scream. Sylus held you tighter, still on the floor barely past your doorframe. “Y/n, its ok. Let go.”  He coaxed. Perhaps that’s what you were waiting for because you finally sobbed. You broke down the way you’ve wanted to for years now. Never allowing yourself to truly to feel what you had so tightly tucked away. He held you there till you fell asleep from exhaustion, gently soothing you while running his left hand up and down your back. His right found its way into your hair, pressing your head further into the crook of his neck. “It’ll be alright, my love”. He cooed, carrying you off to bed. He had watched you through Mephisto’s eye the whole time like he always has.

It was torture for him to listen to your voicemail while you threw yourself at wanderer days in and day out. The jokey and joyful tone hurt like knives knowing you probably hadn’t spoken like that to anyone in weeks. “Hey, you’ve reached my phone. Now come and find me. Heh he. But seriously sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I’ll get back to ya.” You seemed so happy before. Of course, he knew of Caleb’s whereabouts. He had been subtly preparing you for the blow with lines like ‘careful who you trust from now on’ and ‘sometimes the closest to us may do the most harm’, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Here you were hurting in a way he couldn’t solve. With a heavy sigh, he called Zayne (his so-called rival) for help and your comfort. Zayne knew Caleb personally, he would soothe both of your worries.

 “Fuck”, Zayne hissed in response to the news over the phone. He was headed home after a long shift but made a very sharp U-turn back towards your apartment. “I’ll be there in a moment don’t alert Xavier." Sylus’s eyes grew wide at the responsive but quickly recovered. After 15 minutes of almost speeding, Zayne arrives in your apartment with an anger never seen before. “Is she alright. How long before that bastard arrives.” Zayne scans over the apartment for you while glancing back at Sylus for his answers. Sylus falls back into the much too small sofa letting out the sound of a sore old man. “She’s not well but she’s sleeping in the back. From what I heard, there’s five days before the fleet lands. He asked her to meet him in Sky haven. He sounded genuine but it’s still suspicious. Why wait til now.” Zayne nodded, busying himself in your kitchen. Tea would do little to calm them, but it was something. Anything to keep him from going over there himself and picking up a fight he knew only would hurt you more. “What was he like, when you knew him. Perhaps he’s had a motive this whole time?”

“Obsessive.” The doctor snorted. “The poor girl was smothered with him, but she saw nothing but her protective best friend. Pushed me away any chance he could.” It was now Sylus’s turn to laugh. “So, playing house never-ending well, I take?” The dark-haired man sighed into his mug. “Y/n had proudly declared me as her husband since she was 9, but Caleb said I should stay in my place as the friendly neighbor or the dog. You might be right. Any evidence pointing to Ever in this.” “Nothing concrete yet, but I’ll have something clear soon. He says checking on Mephisto’s camera feed from Sky Haven.

“I want to see” You croaked, voice still hoarse from crying earlier. Both men are up and near you in an instant. You wobble toward them light-headed and on bare feet, before nearly falling again. Zayne wins the ‘race’ this time, scooping you and bringing you to the loveseat to sit in his lap. Sylus follows the two of you back and pulls the screen again for you to see. The crimson-tinted screen shows gleaming city streets filled with lights. In the distance, silver towers glow like Christmas up above. Misty fog covering it all making it look like a hazy dream. “Lovely, do you think you should wait til you’re feeling better before you see him again?” Zayne asked you, his voice losing the bite it had just a moment before. “No, I won’t feel better til I see…him. I want to know what happened.” You said, eyes with tears welling up again. “Why he left me alone” The last part of that sentence was muffled into Zayne’s turtleneck. “I’m proud of, y/n” Zayne whispers into your hair. “You’ve been so strong through it all but its ok if you need more time, that’s perfectly fine.” “He’s right, Kitten.”

“Thank you, both of you. I would love to go back to thinking  he was gone and moving on, but I really need to see him. Maybe punch him a few times for pay back but still.” You attempt to joke but a few good hits would definitely help your feelings if you’re being serious. The rest of the night was spent with Zayne and Sylus doing their best to distract you by any means necessary. A silent truce leads to them teasing each other and doting on your head and foot. Two movies, a pile-it-up competition, and half a Hershey pie later, the three of you were tucked into your far too-small bed. But for two giants and you, you were more than happy to be squished.

One day before Touch Down

“Ok but if they ask me to sing, I’m gonna ugly cry.” You said finally grocery shopping again. Sylus had come along. After last time, He seemed the domesticity of it. “I would love to hear you sing again, sweetie but you aren’t capable of “ugly crying”. He jested, tossing another steak cut into your cart. “I’ll have you know y rendition of ‘At Last’ in college choir could kill a man, I won't even start about ‘Sweet Love’. Tears and all, mister.” “Oh, I’m sure.” Maybe everything will be okay after all. Watching you prepare for a dinner date like nothing occurred at all was nice but the sight of you breaking down like that would always be burned into his brain. He vowed that he’d always be there for you through good times and bad while you scanned the aisle for sweets. He heard you mutter something about deserving a cheat day more than anyone right now. You were right.

Moments Before Touch Down

The cold wind blasts through the fog ridden streets all around you. The taxi had let you in front of the command center as you requested but it was the long dreadful walk to the carrier bay that was miserable. The cruel fabric of your own dress blues did against the freezing air. The hunter dress code at its finest, the dark blue pencil skirt, blouse, and jacket was awful, Tara had always questioned what you had against the usual dress code, seeing your custom uniform outfitted with leather and pants no less. But you was right in end. This sucks ass.

The air was far too thin for your heart’s liking and the eerie glow of tech through the fog lighting on your way did little to comfort your nerves. Soon enough, the clearance stall was in sight with a man waiting with your name on a sign. He wore the same dress as blues Caleb used to when he first enlisted. “Hello miss y/ln, correct?” You gave a curt nod before putting on a smile. You were trying your hardest not to go numb again. You promised yourself and the boys that you would be ok and present. “Great, the colonel did make a last minute request of you.” You sighed, mentally prepared for whatever he could’ve thrown you now. “The colonel spoke about your singing to the higher ups and you’ve been invited to officially welcome the fleet home with a song.” “Shit” you mumbled beneath a cough saving to save face. If the officer had heard he played no mind. You had definitely jinxed it in the store, Sylus’s bad luck had rubbed off on you once again. Plastering a big smile, you spoke, far more chipper it was painful. “It would be a great honor, thank you.” You say through gritted teeth. “Wonderful, follow me.”

You now found on the highest step leading to the stage, highest seat on the bay as the ship finally touched down. Every bone in you body shivers and shakes. The breathes you now halted as they all file out by rank. Each group called out by squad name led by their colonel. A drone of names and codes you couldn’t hear above the sound of your own racing heart. None of the breathing exercises practiced with Zayne could help now. Only pressing on and waiting for the man who haunted you for years would bring any type of solace.

Once they had all stood in formation, a general comes and gives a speech about unity, the future, and whatever else is on his messy que cards. “And now a song from the Hunters associations’ very own, Y/n Y/ln to welcome us all home. You shot up scanning over the crowd. Suddenly your college recital was nothing compared to this. ‘Just another obstacle before I get to see him.’ You thought. The music starts and so do you.

At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

This was cruel. Sickening. He had to have known.

The skies above are blue

My heart is wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

A man pushes through the crowd towards the stage. His medals glimmering was he moves with fevor.

Oh, and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine

At last

Cheers and clapping filled the air and just as you said. Some of the officials are sobbing. You paid no mind as Bright purple eyes gleamed up at you. He stares at you in awe. As if you had put the clouds into skies that he had flown through for too long. He smiles the same grin he did back then. It was him. The colonel reaches out for you, eager to have you in arms once again. You jump without a second thought. God how you had missed him. How he had missed you. He needs you like air in his lungs. The tight embrace is bone-crushing on his part, but you could’ve asked for tighter. Anything was fine as long as he never let you go again. “Hello again, my little love” You smiled and giggled at the line. Cheeks are growing hot despite the cold chill around you. “Is it really you, Caleb?” You asked, hoping to stay in this blissful dream even if it wasn’t. “Of course, y/n. I’m back. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He laughs. The sound is heaven to your ears. Memories of a childhood together you had buried now come flooding back. “Ugh finally, as if I’d let you go. I might just kidnap you and take you home back with me.” You hiccup. And now it’s his turn to hang on to your words but he snorts and tightens his grasp. “You’ll never hear me complain about it.”  You shove a hand into your pocket to pull the silver chain. It shines between you two as you gently push him back earning a pout from him. The apple-accented dog chain would be united with its owner once again. “Tryna collar me, Princess?” He says already bending down for you. “Yup, then you’ll never run away again.”  You say, hooking the chain around his neck. “Lets get outta here, coffee?” Tears of his own threaten to fall as he speaks.

This was going far better than Caleb ever imagined it would. He’s sure you’ll knock him on his ass later and he sure as hell deserves it but for now, he’ll wrap you in his coat, scoop up and carry you off somewhere warm.

At last, both of you were finally had a home again.

[softdrabbles]

processing the fact that carmen had been with someone after they had left was hard enough but they were not prepared for what was to follow that information regarding who it was she had dated. of course they knew who charlotte was, everyone did. it made daxton sick, the woman was practically perfect in every way. they'd even joked with ashton numerous times about how attractive she was whilst they watched sports broadcasts together over the years. it was clearly visible that the gears were turning in daxton's brain as they comprehended what carmen was saying. that they had been the cause behind their parting of ways. carmen could have had everything, a life far from anything they could provide for her and yet that wasn't enough for her.

"why?.... why would you do that?" they asked finally, their mind still stuck on the fact she could have lived comfortably with someone who adored her. "why would you give up an incredible life with someone so stable in every way? someone who clearly loved you? for me. the idea of me. i'm just some junkie fuckup and she's - she's charlotte fucking spencer, carmen." she had no idea if they'd crossed paths again and gave that up for what? a hope that daxton would come home? "she could have given you a life i could only dream of providing you." the thought of meeting the woman made daxton feel even more nauseous, knowing the woman knew way too much about them for their liking. "if i were her i'd hate my guts. i can't even hate her for being with you because she helped you be a person again after i fucked everything up." hearing the two were good friends didn't surprise them, carmen was so easy to like and get along with and charlotte sounded like a breeze to be around but that meant meeting the woman was inevitable, yet their brain also couldn't move past the chemistry the two supposedly shared and daxton was a jealous person. "i think i need a little time before i meet her."

admitting the relationship she had after daxton was almost painful, but she didn't regret the relationship. carmen learned how to love again and learned to slowly put down her barriers. she loved charlotte but she wasn't daxton as mean as that sounded. but even charlotte knew that deep down but still was willing to be with carmen. carmen shook her head at daxton's question. " no. they moved here from the city years ago. she's a sport newscaster. you've probably seen her on tv." thankfully their relationship had been lowkey that there was no media tabloid to expose their relationship. that is what she loved about her small town. they didn't care much unless it was something scandalous (i.e. the matthews twin being booted from their home, or her family moving into the neighborhood). carmen cleared her throat. " charlie spencer." they were silent for a moment before speaking up again. " she came into the cafe a lot and ashton thought i should shoot my shot with her cause i guess we had chemistry or whatever." she shook her head. " anyways, we both mutually separated. it wasn't fair for me to date her when my mind was still on you after all these years; and she knew that but didn't say anything because she was enjoying what we had. we both still have a lot of love for each other but as friends. im sure she would love to meet you."

[deansapplepie]

Use me as you Wish

Summary: Catherine Greene’s life was upside down and Daryl’s hopes were shattered in a million pieces. They found some solace in each other that night.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Catherine Greene (OC)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions about death, mentions of putting people down, mentions of sickness, smut, sex, unprotected p in v, cum eating (?), vulnerability, Cath is 30 yo. Slightly proof read, so may contain mistakes. Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: there’s been years I don’t write and OC and I don’t write in first person, so I’m somehow excited about it and anxious too. I wanted to create an OC again and I had this wish of writing a Greene character different from the ones I usually see on the stories and how I actually think would be a Hershel daughter in a relationship with Daryl and also how I think Hershel would have reacted. No Hershel here, but here is my Greene OC on this first piece of story. Also, nothing against other Greene readers or OCs I saw around, I just wanted to do mine.

I didn’t want this first story to be smut, but it looks like everything I touch becomes smut. 😅

I never believed the dead people walking around were actually sick, I saw sick people before. I saw my stepmom and step brother getting sick and eventually dying. Those were not them anymore but they looked like them and because of that I didn’t do anything when my dad locked them in the old barn. What could I do? We had no information about anything anymore so I just trusted whatever my father believe, who could be wiser than him at the moment? Later I learned the dead people should be put ‘dead’ again, but I would never have it in me to do that to ‘them’. I also didn’t do anything as he continued to lock neighbors and other ones that were found wandering around the farm. I couldn’t kill a chicken, would I ever be able to kill one of those creatures? I didn’t know how to shoot, I also didn’t know how to stab. Once, my dad tried to teach me how to kill a pig, I missed the heart and just put the poor thing into more suffering.

All that being said, the mixed feelings I had, when the group that came from Atlanta opened the barn and shoot one after the other, the neighbors and my family, could be easily explained. Well, some people could understand that at the same time I felt relieved they were put to rest and we didn’t had to worry with the danger, I also felt sorrow because if there was any hope they could be cured or brought back, it didn’t exist anymore.

After that so many things happened and I didn’t know exactly how but I remember one minute I was in the kitchen and the next I was standing in the middle of his camp a recipient with dinner in my hand, offering peace, maybe? Since they arrived I couldn’t take my eyes from him and he would haunt my thoughts night and day, like a teenage girl with a crush, but the thing was… I was far from this.

The curiosity brought me closer to him, or as close as he would allow me. I tried to help as much as I could about the girl they were looking for, I brought to them the things my dad allowed us to share with them, I helped taking care of him when he got injured. So we would talk, he was witty, sassy and grumpy. He was masculine, rustic and handsome. I was bewitched by him, and he didn’t even know he could do this.

“Watcha doing here?” I was startled by his voice, lost in my thoughts in the middle of his camp which he had changed for a place farther than everyone’s.

“I brought you dinner, you didn’t join us.” I answered calmly although I sensed the bitter tone in his voice.

“What? Did ya expect me to join you after all that happened and play house?” He towered me, the moonlight iluminated his skin… he was so handsome, but also could be intimidating. I constantly felt intimidated, but there was just something to him that kept me going on.

“I… I never expected it, Daryl. Never wanted you to act as if nothing happened. I know how much effort you put on it.”

“Yeah… why did ya hid the fact the girl was there all that time? Why didn’t ya say anything about the barn?” By that time he knew none of us knew Sophia was there, but I got it. He was upset. He was upset with me, I never said anything about the barn. That was something I knew. Something I could have shared.

“I was scared, ok? My dad said to not tell a thing! Do you think I ever felt comfortable having them so close?” My voice tone got higher for the first time.

“Didn’t seem uncomfortable ta me.” His eyes burned into mine, eyes so gentle before seamed able to make a hole into my soul at any moment.

“I was! It was so difficult knowing my stepmother and stepbrother were there. I couldn’t do anything for them.” I still remembered the day we locked them there.

“Could’ve put an end on this for them.” It’s so easy to say it when you’re Daryl Dixon.

“Could I? You saw how I shoot, you saw how I hold a knife all kind of wrongs! Do you think I could have done that and survived?” Our chests were pretty much against each other and how we got this close is still a mystery to me.

I could listen to his breath, loud and raged. I felt his chest every time he breathed. His warm breath fanned over my face and his blue eyes that bored into my brown ones had something that I couldn’t read this time. Was it understanding? Defiance? There was something else in it. “Cath…” The nickname rolled easy from his tongue it was the first time he didn’t called me Catherine or any other silly nickname he decided to use.

“Yes?” I answered breathlessly, the air had been stolen from my lungs, my eyes glued to his face, descended to his lips, the same lips I had seen my name rolling from.

My lips were parted as if they seek for air, his eyes descended to them and in the next moment I understood that when my nickname left his lips, that was an alert, a warning. I wouldn’t listen to it anyways. His lips crashed against mine, fervent, urgent, a surprise I was willing to reciprocate. All those days feeling bothered, flustered… the attraction I felt for him finally having the upper hand.

When I hit my back against a tree, I noticed we had walked and now his body pressed me to it. The recipient with his food? I had no idea where I lost it. One of his hands laid on my waist while the other grabbed my thigh lifting my leg and pressing our centers together.

“Tell me ta stop… tell me…” His lips hovered mine, so close but stopping the kiss completely.

“Daryl… use me.” The words I never expected saying left my lips. “Do everything you want, use me as you wish…” I murmured feverishly, I would be lying if I said he was the only one that was going to use someone. I was also using him, at that moment I just wanted to forget. Forget everything that happened earlier, forget my dad had disappeared, forget the state Beth was in the moment and to begin with… forget how angry he was at me when that conversation began.

He crashed his lips against mine again, my back pressioned against the tree. My legs locked around his waist and his fingers burried in the flash of my thighs, his hands were warn against my skin my dress skirt rising up. I put my arms around his neck and my finger locked around his short hair.

We stopped the kiss, gasping for air, but not for too long. He walked with me on his arms taking me to his tent and laying on the cot, not very delicately I must say, but at that moment I didn’t mind. I needed him. Fast. Raw. Primal.

I kicked my boots the faster I could. He took off my dress urgently, his eyes popping when he noticed I didn’t wear a bra. I sensed he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He immediately mouthed one of my breasts, nibbling it and swirling his tongue around the erected nipple, I caressed the back of his head pressing his face more against me. “Oh, Daryl…” I moaned, as he bit my skin harshly. That would definitely leave a mark, thankfully a hidden one. He changed his attention to the other one, it was delicious.

When I said he could use me, I thought he would do it, think only about him, but here he was making me feel so good. Maybe, he needed this and I had told him to use me as he wished, hadn’t I?

I heard the noise of his belt being unbuckled and excitement rushed through me. His mouth left my skin and before I had the chance of doing anything, or taking a peak at his hard cock, he got me in a sitting position. He was on his knees, sitting on his legs, and me? Well, he lifted me to sit on him, his hand descended to my clothed pussy, the anticipation consuming me… He put my panties aside and positioned his cock with my entrance going all the way in in just one swift movement. A loud cry left my lips while he groaned, almost painfully.

“Ya okay?” He asked, talking for the first time since we started.

“Yeah, just keep going. I need this, we need this.” I was so full all at once that it felt a little overwhelming but that’s how it was supposed to be. That’s what I wanted to feel.

He helped moving me up and down on him, he trusting his hips against mine. My lips encountered his one more time, I could never get enough of it. Our kiss muffled his groans and my moans, his hand grabbed firmly on my waist and thigh, his fingers imprinting on my soul.

His mouth descended to my jaw, my neck and went back to my breasts where he got back to his earlier work. Definitely a tits man, or maybe just a man that knew how to appreciate a women’s body because the way he grabbed my thighs and ass… I continued pressing his face against my skin, my hand on his nape locked on his short hair while our hips moved frantically against each other making the most sinful sounds.

I was close, that coil was building in my lower stomach and my walls contracted around him. “Daryl… I’m close…” I felt it could be at any moment.

“Come on, kitten. Let it go… cum fer me.” He said by my ear when he raised his face.

I crumbled in one big electrifying wave, my hips moving aimlessly, my head thrown back as my body convulsed against his. His voice muffled by my excited brain that couldn’t focus on anything but pleasure. His cock twitched inside me and that moment as a device I clicked back to reality as he lifted my body and hot spurts of his spending painted our torsos. That was probably the hottest thing I ever saw.

When he seamed that be back at his senses, he looked at my body taking in the mess we had done, and as ‘mess’ it could have many different interpretations. What was he thinking about? It was so difficult to know, till he moved and his hand made it’s way up my body ‘cleaning’ the cum he had let printed on me, just shove 2 fingers inside my mouth… which I cleaned, no questioning, just savoring the salty flavor of his seed mixed with our sweats. I just accept whatever he wanted from me, I told him to use me. Didn’t I?

He took a rag from somewhere inside his tent and cleaned our bodies, silent, no words and no harshness. Very delicate if compared to the way he manhandled me to whatever he wanted. When he finished putting my dress again and dressing his pants, I started to look for my boots and was stopped by him.

“Stay.” He said, freezing me in place. Again he surprised me, I never expected he would want me to stay. I never took him for a bad person or a man that would just throw away the women he conquered, but I new he had his boundaries and I wasn’t really expecting for that. He wanted comfort.

“Ok.” I answered and stopped looking for my boots and started looking for the place where we’d lay to sleep.

Daryl Dixon never stopped to amaze me.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Cathy Greene’s Taglist: @silentlysurffering98 @alyssaforevermore

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie @gabriella-aesthetic @fluffy-dixon @lunajay33

[hangmanapologist]

.

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[monachopsis-420]

The internet. It’s been around for a very long time. On the internet, you can find anything you want. You can say anything you want. You can do anything you want. The only thing stopping you is yourself. You feel safe behind a screen; a mask of anonymity shielding you from everyone. The internet either makes or breaks you. 

You are all broken. 

Never in my life have I seen a side to the internet this weird and disgusting. 

You will believe what I say because I made you. I made you feel comforted in my presence– wanted even. But you were never wanted. It will not change my life if you die or not. It will not change the world if you die or not. You are a pawn in a game. And I played you. 

You idolize these sick, twisted individuals. You think they’re cool, hot, worth being something. The attention is everything to you, negative or positive. To you all, any attention is good attention. Now tell me, how fulfilled do you feel after shutting off your phone and lying in bed. Do you feel accomplished? Do you feel satisfied? Do you feel as if you’ve made a difference in this world? 

You shouldn’t. 

You contribute nothing to society. 

Your community means nothing in the eyes of 8 billion people. 

You do not stand out. 

No one cares where, who, or how you are.

You will never understand what it means to be human.

You do not have the traits. 

You have no sympathy, no guilt, no morals. 

You do not have shame for your actions. You’re no more important than a dead, wilting flower.

You all should put every connection, every tie, every relation to the internet down. Take a foot outside the door and look at the trees, the sky, the grass, the people playing in parks. Watch how happy they are as you live your life in misery, tucked away on social media. I would say touch some grass and take a shower, but that simply would not fix any of you. You need a long time to fix yourselves, and you probably won’t even make it. You live your life based on lies, violence, and sexual intentions. It gets you nowhere. It never will. You are a clown. 

I idly sit on the sidelines as I watch you all partake and indulge in such media. It’s funny to see you all believe the first thing you read on here. You are all gullible. Think about the next time you comment on a post, like it, reblog it. Think about who could be that person being the mask. It’s not always who you think it is. But I know what will happen after this. You’ll read this and continue on with your life because I’m only just one person. I can’t stop you. 

I am not cannibalgod97. 

But you believed me. 

Therefore, I have won.

guess who's back, girls.

intro or whatever.

name is eric but pretty women can call me rebby, eighteen, hate mankind. that kinda thing.

introject, don't know what that means. system or sum shit. system of meeting beautiful women, am i right?

asks and dms are open. love talking to sexy women.

i love all my girls equally. no fighting over me, i don't like bitchin.

[cyberpunkboytoy]

I see a lot of people in the Mouthwashing tag frequently listing 'keeping Curly alive' in the list of crimes Jimmy has done, implying or sometimes outright saying that not mercy-killing Curly was a cruel and unusual act...and would like to caution against that.

There's a long history of abled people deciding someone's quality of life is too horrible to merit letting them live (usually to nonverbal or otherwise 'low functioning' people lacking a clear means to communicate) and condoning the murder of disabled people under the guise of kindness. Curly is an extreme example, and one could argue he might prefer to be 'put out of his misery,' but it's important to note that we don't know, no one asks, and there's no attempt to communicate either which way.

How extreme pain and 'low quality of life' are handled are very nuanced and complicated topics, but you can never decide for someone else what kind of life isn't 'worth living.' Curly is obviously a videogame character, but these attitudes can and do affect the lives of real people & are worth being aware of.

[live-at-fortune-city]

you guys wont guess how i'm starting up my 2025 (sorry for making them funny animals it'll happen again)

(slight gore under cut)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[findingcrow]

I would really like to remind everyone that it’s canon (we didn’t make this up. We didn’t have to make this up Flanagan made it canon for us) that everyone just. Accepts that Will is Halt’s son. Gilan says that even though he and Halt will always be close, Halt and Will’s relationship is much closer and is father & son like. Pauline treats Will as her son. Horace sees Will as his brother and Halt as his uncle. Everyone sees Will and Halt and are like “this man. This man has adopted a child” which is so funny to me because imagine you’re in araluen and you see Greybeard halt who never smiles with his happy son who doesn’t shut up (AND they’re the same height). Flanagan does a lot wrong in the series but making Halt see Will as his son and the found family aspects are NOT one

[anghraine]

jenndoesnotcare replied to this post:

Every time LDS kids come to my neighborhood I am so so nice to them. I hope they remember the blue haired lady who was kind, when people try to convince them the outside world is bad and scary. (Also they are always so young! I want to feed them cookies and give them Diana Wynne Jones books or something)

Thank you! Honestly, this sort of kindness can go a really long way, even if it doesn't seem like it at the time.

LDS children and missionaries (and the majority of the latter are barely of age) are often the people who interact the most with non-Mormons on a daily basis, and thus are kind of the "face" of the Church to non-Mormons a lot of the time. As a result, they're frequently the ones who actually experience the brunt of antagonism towards the Church, which only reinforces the distrust they've already been taught to feel towards the rest of the world.

It's not that the Church doesn't deserve this antagonism, but a lot of people seem to take this enormous pride in showing up Mormon teenagers who have spent most of their lives under intense social pressure, instruction, expectation, and close observation from both their peers and from older authorities in the Church (it largely operates on seniority, so young unmarried people in particular tend to have very little power within its hierarchies). Being "owned" for clout by non-Mormons doesn't prove anything to most of them except that their leaders and parents are right and they can't trust people outside the Church.

The fact that the Church usually does provide a tightly-knit community, a distinct and familiar culture, and a well-developed infrastructure for supporting its members' needs as long as they do [xyz] means that there can be very concrete benefits to staying in the Church, staying closeted, whatever. So if, additionally, a Mormon kid has every reason to think that nobody outside the Church is going to extend compassion or kindness towards them, that the rest of the world really is as hostile and dangerous as they've been told, the stakes for leaving are all the higher, despite the costs of staying.

So people from "outside" who disrupt this narrative of a hostile, threatening world that cannot conceivably understand their experiences or perspectives can be really important. It's important for them to know that there are communities and reliable support systems outside the Church, that leaving the Church does not have to mean being a pariah in every context, that there are concrete resources outside the Church, that compassion and decency in ordinary day-to-day life is not the province of any particular religion or sect and can be found anywhere. This kind of information can be really important evidence for people to have when they are deciding how much they're willing to risk losing.

So yeah, all of this is to say that you're doing a good thing that may well provide a lifeline for very vulnerable people, even if you don't personally see results at the time.