#i am capable of nothing except talking to myself

[lostandbackagain]

I don't think I need to specify this but when I say shallan is nuts I absolutely am not referring to her DID, I'm talking about her approach to science and goading jasnah into beating her ass

[hecksupremechips]

Idk how to even talk to anyone anymore when it’s just the same thing in a loop over and over

[awkwardauthorwrites]

What If (You Were Made For Me)

Word Count: 6.2k

Themes: pining, angst if you squint, two idiots in love, fluff

Summary: Halsin realises he’s in love with his best friend, Tav

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol. Like one swear word. I almost made myself cry writing this. 

(I haven’t written since The Devil Doesn’t Bargain, please be nice. BG3 and specifically this druid has me in a chokehold, your honour I love this man, I am feral for him, he consumes my every waking and sleeping thought)

Halsin watched Tav from across the campfire, his brow furrowed as she spoke to Astarion with a smile on her face. She had been avoiding him recently and no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t seem to put a finger on why. It had started small, with going on supply runs with anyone except for him until she gradually stopped training with him, she steered clear of his favourite parts of camp, and eventually it built up to her making excuses to not spend any more time with him than completely necessary. The explanations she gave always sounded sincere, but it had all been happening for weeks, and now there she was, sitting on the opposite end of the campfire instead of next to him and laughing and talking with Astarion.

He felt himself begin to frown as Tav gave Astarion a playful shove, a laugh escaping her as the rogue tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders to pull her back in. He watched with bated breath as Tav’s eyes lit up when Astarion held his hand out in front of her again, slowly showing her how he twirled a coin in between his fingers and how to make it look like it disappeared with a flourish. Halsin couldn’t understand it - it felt like only a few weeks ago that Tav and Astarion had regarded each other with cool indifference, but ever since the days they took to recuperate she had practically been glued to the rogue’s side.  Tav took the coin from Astarion and attempted the sleight of hand herself, her face one of pure concentration. She made it to the final turn of the coin before she fumbled it and it slipped from her grasp, a low groan slipping from her as it fell to the floor.

Halsin didn’t want to admit how he was feeling as he watched them interact, but he hated it. His chest felt tight and his gut rolled with anger and jealousy. Especially when Astarion leant in to murmur something in Tav’s ear, his voice too low for Halsin to hear what he had said to make her face flush the most delicate shade of pink. She laughed again and shook her head, her nose wrinkling the way it did when she found something unbelievable. She nudged Astarion again, softer this time as he scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head as she let the pale elf know she would be right back before she wandered into the treeline. Halsin watched her disappear from sight and wanted nothing more than to follow her and ask her what had happened, to figure out when everything had changed between them. The thing in his chest clenched tighter at his heart with every second she was gone and he was torn between waiting for her return or going after her. 

“You know,” Astarion drawled, breaking Halsin out of his thoughts. “You can go after her, if you’d like.”

“And you can mind your own business,” Halsin snaps back, feeling unlike himself as he glares at the rogue. “She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, especially when she’ll only be gone a few moments.” To his credit, Astarion doesn’t flinch at the druid’s harsh tone or at the way his eyes flash gold in warning to reveal the beast that is itching to be released.

“Oh?” Astraion smirks, his fingers twirling the coin Tav had been holding earlier with practised ease. “With the way you’re acting like a scorned lover I never would have guessed. Green may be your colour but jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Halsin’s fists clench by his side and before he can even think about what he’s doing he’s stood from his seat and stalking his way across to Astarion, his jaw tight with anger and annoyance. The more rational part of his brain is telling him to calm down, that he can’t beat Astarion to a pulp just because he had struck a (annoyingly accurate) nerve, but the bear inside him is fighting its way out and wants to - 

“Halsin,” Tav’s voice rings out from behind him, her tone sharp. He stops a few steps away from Astarion and turns to face her, his ire slowly seeping away as he looks at her. She looks equal parts confused and concerned at his out of character anger, although she also seems to be a little annoyed with him too from the glare she’s giving him. “I don’t know what Astarion said to piss you off, and I’m sure he deserves the punch you’re about to give him, but why don’t we leave the violence for the near daily threats we face, hm?” Her eyebrow is raised and she looks less than amused at the scene in front of her while Astarion dramatically places a hand on his chest, feigning outrage at her words.

“I…I apologise,” he mutters, embarrassment settling in his gut at his behaviour. He risks a glance at Astarion, who is watching him with vague interest and a hint of a smirk, before shaking his head and turning back to Tav. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her gaze softens as he looks back at her and she takes a few steps forward until she’s right in front of him, standing closer than she has been in weeks. Her hand grasps one of his fists to loosen his body language and she gently tugs at his sleeve.

“Come take a walk with me.”  It’s not so much a request as a demand as she lets go of his sleeve and takes his hand in hers and begins to pull him away from the campfire. Astarion begins to whistle the tune for a bawdy ballad and without missing a step Tav leans down to grab a rock and throws it at his head. She doesn’t stop to see if it hit him or not (because of course it didn’t, thanks to his ability to uncannily dodge every blow that comes his way) and leads Halsin into the treeline, ignoring how loudly Astarion is laughing behind them.

“What’s happening? Is something wrong?” Her touch is like magic, and if he didn’t know any better he would think she’s cast a spell on him with how fast the tension leaves his body as he wraps his hand around hers. All the anger, the annoyance, the jealousy that he had been feeling earlier fades away as she pulls him deeper into the woods until they come across the small river they use to wash up in. 

“You tell me,” she says, letting go of his arm once they reach their destination. She turns to face him, a fire in her eyes as she crosses her arms and looks up at him. “You’re the calmest person I have ever met. So tell me why you were about to swing at Astarion with more anger than I saw you direct at Minthara when she tried to raze the Grove to the ground.”

“Astarion-” Halsin breaks off, feeling slightly uneasy with the glare she’s directing at him. He had seen her use the look more times than he could count, but it was never directed at him. “It was nothing. It was stupid.”

“Clearly it wasn’t nothing because you looked seconds away from shifting into your bear form and ripping him to shreds,” she snaps. Halsin’s head dips down and he runs a hand through his hair warily as her tone suddenly makes him feel like he’s a boy all over again being chided by his tutors. Tav sighs and she steps forward slightly, her hand brushing his. “Look at me,” she says softly, the anger draining out of her voice. 

Halsin lifts his head fractionally to look at her and sees nothing but kindness and concern in her gaze. Her expression is soft as she steps closer, and he itches to pull her into his arms and never let go but he can’t. He can’t because she is his closest friend and he doesn’t want to scare her away and despite believing the heart should be able to roam free he isn’t sure if hers belongs to Astarion or not and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. 

“What did he say?” Tav asks again, her voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you that angry before, Hal, so it can’t have been stupid.” Halsin’s heart thuds in his chest as she steps so close he can feel the heat from her body, and the way the nickname she’s given him rolls off her lips makes him want to fall to her feet and beg for forgiveness. 

“He called me a scorned lover,” he mumbles angrily, turning away from her again. His face feels hot under her gaze and he doesn’t have it in him to watch her reaction as he repeats the rogue’s words. “He insinuated I was jealous of him because you’re spending more time with him than me.”

“Oh.” Tav blinks, clearly not expecting that answer and stumbles back a few steps, her teeth tugging at her lower lip in a nervous habit that set Halsin on edge every time she did it. “So you...you were going to hit him? Because he made some false, asinine insinuation that he and I were together and I had tossed you aside?” Halsin can’t tell if she sounds angry or not and he’s suddenly apprehensive at replying to her. He can usually read her like the back of his hand - and she can do the same for him - so why couldn’t he tell what was running through her mind right now?

“Is it false?” he asks, turning to face her again, his voice quiet. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, you’ve been spending your time with him. How could I not think that?” Halsin knows he’s said the wrong thing the minute the fire flashes back in her eyes and she steps closer to him again, her finger prodding him in the chest as she speaks. 

“So what if I was seeing him? We’re not together Halsin, we never have been. You don’t get to throw punches at every person I meet just because I spend a little time with them!” Her voice rises steadily as she speaks and she turns her back on him and takes a few steps away, a hand running through her hair in frustration before she whirls back to face him. “I’m not seeing Astarion, by the way, and not that it matters, but I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“So why not me?” he blurts out, his eyes shining gold in suppressed rage. “Why is he the one you spend your time with and not me? Why does he get to steal you away from me? Why can’t I be the one to make you laugh for hours and be the sole recipient of your affection and time?”

“You-” Tav lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re joking, right? I’ve waited months - months - for you to stop looking at me like a child that needs protection. For you to look at me the way I’ve wanted you to since the moment we first spoke properly at that party after we saved the tieflings and the Grove. And now you start acting like you want me back?” She’s not shouting, but every word has Halsin flinching as if she had. “Now that I’ve finally decided I shouldn’t pine after you anymore because I’m nothing more than your best friend and you’ll never look at me the way I want you to?”

“You…” Halsin can feel his heart pudding in his chest at her revelation. He feels like someone has just yanked a rug out from underneath him and he’s free falling, but at the same time his heart soars knowing she feels the same way as he does. That she wants him just as much as he wants her. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He reaches out so he can touch her, so he can hold her. “I never thought…I didn���t want to let myself hope-” 

“How could I tell you?” She steps away before he can touch her and he swears his heart cracks as her eyes go misty and tears begin to well up. “You’re my best friend, Halsin. How was I supposed to tell you that somewhere along these months of travelling you’ve tripped me up and I’m head over heels in love with you?” The tears fall down her face and she wipes at them angrily. “How was I supposed to tell you that after you slept with someone else only a few days after I drunkenly came onto you?”

He feels his heart shatter at the sight of her tears, as he vaguely recalls the evening she’s talking about. They had stopped for a much needed break at a tavern and every single one of them had gotten ridiculously drunk as they unwound for the night. She had come up to him, her face red from either the alcohol or nerves and had run a hand down his chest in a way that set every nerve of his alight as she seductively murmured in his ear and asked him to join her in her rooms for the night. He had declined, even though every part of him screamed not to. He didn’t want her to regret things in the morning when she woke and had a clear head, he didn’t want to put their friendship at risk like that. A few nights later in the same tavern an elven warrior had come over to him when they were all significantly less drunk and had barely finished propositioning him before he whisked them away to a room for the night. 

“Tav,” his voice is hoarse and he feels like someone is running a sword through him. She never brought up asking him to sleep with her in the following days and he had assumed that meant she was embarrassed or didn’t remember doing it. When the elf had come up to him later and asked the same from him he never stopped to think about how it would make her feel. How it would look to anyone else. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks eventually, “because you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” she takes another step away from him as he tries to get closer. “I’m not proud of it, and seeing your face drop every time I made an excuse not to be around you felt like someone was shoving a dagger into my heart,” she puts her hand to her chest, the tears falling freely down her face now, “but I had to do it. You…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more and I couldn’t be around you because it killed me to know you would never feel the same. The final nail in the coffin was when you slept with that elf. They were fucking stunning and I knew then you would never want me like I want you.”

“How can you say I don’t want you like that?” he rasps. “Have you not seen the way I’ve looked at you? Do you know how much effort it took to resist you?” He tries to inch closer to her, his body screaming to wipe her tears away and pull her into a tight embrace. 

“Congratulations, would you like a medal?” Her tone is sarcastic as she slips away from his touch yet again. “Well done on showing some restraint with me when the Oak Father knows you’ll fuck anyone else with a pulse.” Her breathing is heavy as she glares at him in equal parts anger and heartbreak. “You thought Astarion and I had something going on and you almost ripped him to shreds. Imagine how it felt for me, watching you take someone else to your bed.”

“You’re right,” he admits. “How many times have I done this to you? How many times have I pushed you away, assuming I know what’s best for you when you’re more than capable of deciding yourself who you want to sleep with. Who you want to be with.” He takes a deep breath and he lowers his walls so she can see just how much she means to him. “You’re everything I want - everything I have ever wanted. And you always will be.” His words have the opposite effect he was hoping for and she sinks to the ground, a gut-wrenching sob leaving her as she covers her face and begins to cry. 

He falls to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out to pull her into his embrace and tell her just how in love with her he is, but he hesitates inches away knowing she will only pull further away from him if he follows through. His hands land uselessly at his lap and he feels his own eyes burn as tears threaten to well up at the sound of her anguish. He blinks them away, he hasn’t earned the right to be upset, not when he’s hurt her so deeply. 

“I understand if you don’t believe me,” he says instead, his voice low and full of emotion. “If you tell me to leave right now, I will. Or if it will make you feel better to yell at me some more I’ll stay and take it. I’ll do whatever you want - whatever you need.” He pauses, hoping the words he’s about to say don’t hurt her further. “Please believe me, Tav.”

“Would you have told me?” she asks, her voice thick with tears. “If you hadn’t thought I was with Astarion, would you have ever told me?” She looks up at him and her red-rimmed eyes only cleaves his heart further in two. “If you didn’t think my heart belonged to somebody else would you even have realised how you feel about me?” He pauses as she speaks; he doesn’t want to lie to her, but he knows in his soul she won’t be pleased with the answer he’s going to give her. 

“No,” he whispers eventually. “It took seeing you with him to realise I was in love with you, and I wish every day that I hadn’t needed that reminder. I should have seen it the moment we met, the way you made me feel…” He lets out a shaky breath and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m an idiot.” Tav inhales sharply at his words and nods to herself, her jaw clenching tightly as if she’s trying to stop herself from falling apart again. 

“Well, you won’t hear any arguments from me.” She looks up at him for a few seconds before she looks away again, tears welling back in her eyes as she stands up. “I’m tired. I’m going back to camp.” She doesn’t ask him to follow her, but he does anyway, stumbling to his feet as he follows her back through the trees. He walks in silence by her side as she leads them back to camp, his body heavy and his mind spinning. The one person he wanted in the world was right next to him and he had never felt so far away from her. They return to the camp and all eyes are on them, especially when they take note of the tears that have yet to dry on Tav’s face. 

Astarion sits up as she walks over to him and throws her arms around his shoulders and begins to sob into his shirt. The vampire clearly doesn’t know how to react, but after a moment he wraps his arms back around Tav and holds her close, walking her away so that everyone in camp isn’t privy to her breakdown. Halsin bites the inside of his cheek and looks away as Astarion does what he can’t and comforts Tav as she cries. He knows now that she doesn’t have romantic feelings for the pale elf, but that doesn’t stop his chest from clenching tightly as Astarion’s hands rest on her waist and run through her hair comfortingly. 

“You’re an idiot, you know,” Shadowheart sidles up to him, her tone dry. She has an unamused expression on her face as she stares up at Halsin, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Karalch gives her a gentle nudge and offers Halsin an apologetic smile. 

“I know,” he agrees instantly. “I want nothing more than to give her the comfort he’s providing her right now, and it breaks my heart that I’ve caused her this much pain without even realising it. Seeing Astarion hold her like that…I wish it was me, but I’m glad she kind find some solace in someone here.”

“She doesn’t love him, you know. They’re only friends.” Shadowheart nods her head towards Tav and Astarion. “He’s been trying to help her catch your eye for a while now.” Halsin blinks, the information catching him off guard.

“Astarion is trying to help her?”

“And you,” Shadowheart turns her head to glare at him. “Astarion has been trying to help her with her confidence so she could test the waters and flirt a little with you. And then you had to go and reject her when she finally tried to tell you how she felt only to sleep with someone else a few days later?” The cleric looks mad now, and Halsin has no doubt in his mind that if they were in a more secluded part of the camp she would be yelling and cursing him out for treating Tav the way he had. 

“Nothing I say will ever be able to erase what I did, no matter how much I wish it could.” He lets out a sigh and looks over at Astarion and Tav again. The rogue has pulled her across the camp to her tent and through the open flaps he can see she’s lying down on her bedroll, her head in Astarion’s lap as his fingers run through her hair. “How long has he been trying to help?”

“Does it matter?” Shadowheart asks, her tone sharp. “You never even looked twice at Tav until you thought Astarion was interested in her. No one wants to be made a choice after they become unobtainable - or in this case assumedly unobtainable.” There’s a soft expression on Astarion’s face as he comforts Tav, one Halsin has never seen before. For a split second he wonders if she’s better off without him in her life, whether that’s as a friend or more, but the selfish part of him can’t bear to leave her. 

“Just give her some time, soldier,” Karlach steps forward, ignoring the glare Shadowheart shoots at her. “She’s hurt, it won’t do any good to speak to her right now, you’ll only push her further away. Give her a few days.” He gives Karlach a nod and looks back over at the campsite, wanting to disappear into the trees and give Tav the space she clearly needs, no matter how much it will hurt him. 

Shadowheart and Karlach walk away, leaving Halsin alone again. He watches Astarion cup Tav’s face in her hands and wipe away the last of her tears, muttering something he’s too far away to hear before he kisses her on the forehead. Tav lets out a weak laugh and shakes her head, and the scene grips Halsin’s chest painfully tight. He shakes his head and walks back into the treeline, his eyes glowing gold as he shifts into his cave bear form and darts into the woods.

*

One Week Later

Halsin trudges back into camp, feeling weary and more than a little exhausted, and is a little surprised to see everything is still in its place and the group hasn’t moved on without him. He shifts back into his elf form, shuddering slightly as his body protests and walks towards his tent,  giving awkward smiles and nods to Gale and Jaheira, who wave in greeting at him.

“Hey, soldier!” Karlach grins when she sees him, raising her tankard of ale in greeting as she bounds over. “Welcome back, it’s good to see you.” For a moment it looks like she’s about to pull Halsin into a hug, but decides against it at the last minute. She watches his eyes dart around the camp, no doubt looking for Tav or even Astarion, and his hopeful expression falls when he sees neither. “She’s in town gathering supplies,” the tiefling lowers her voice considerably so no one can hear them. “We’re running a little low after she all but forced us to stay here and wait for you to come back.” Halsin looks at her in surprise, but she just shrugs as if she hadn’t said anything and takes another sip of her drink. 

“I assume Astarion has gone with her?”

“You assume wrong.” The white-haired elf walks by, a book in his hands. “I’d say it’s good to see you again but…” Astarion grimaces and takes in Halsin’s dishevelled appearance. A week of wandering through the woods as a bear has left him looking more than a little worse for wear, with dirt and dust covering him from head to toe, and what felt like a small bird’s nest worth of twigs tangled in his hair. “You look like shit. You should get cleaned up before she’s back, the gods know she’ll only be more upset at you dragging yourself back here looking half dead.” He walks away and settles outside his tent, sipping idly from a glass of wine as he continues to read.

“Wyll went with her,” Karlach fills the awkward silence. “We needed a lot, so he’s gone to help her carry everything.” Her gaze softens as she looks him over, taking note of his tangled hair and the dust on his clothes. “She’s missed you, you know. She’ll be glad you’re back.” Halsin feels something in his chest loosen at the words and he hopes the barbarian is right. 

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Soon, probably. I’m not saying Astarion was right but uh…you might want to consider getting cleaned up before then. No offence,” Karlach wrinkles her nose playfully and Halsin can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, the sound foreign to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he catches on a large knot and lets out a quiet sigh. The thought of Tav coming back to see the state he’s in pushes him to move, and he mutters a quick see you later to Karlach before making his way to his tent to grab some clean clothes and his supplies. 

He’s soon down by the river, trying not to think about the last time he stood there and the heartbreak on Tav’s face as he strips down and scrubs the week in the forest from his body and his dirty clothes. He pulls more twigs and leaves out than he thought possible and it isn’t long before he’s walking back to camp, a towel slung over his shoulder and his now cleaned and dry outfit in his hands while he wears fresh clothes. Karlach is still drinking when he returns, her feet propped up on a bench as she basks in the sun, Shadowheart curled beside her as she sips from her own goblet. 

“Halsin?” He would recognise her voice anywhere. He turns around to see Tav a few feet away, a large supply pack hanging from her shoulder. It falls to the floor with a thump as she takes a hesitant step forward. “Is it really you? Are you back?” Her voice is as soft as a whisper, and he barely registers as Wyll picks her discarded pack up and walks away, giving them both some much needed space. Halsin feels like his heart is caught in his throat. All at once he wants to pull her into his arms, he wants to fall to the floor in front of her and beg forgiveness, he wants to hide from her again but he also wants to yell from the mountains that he loves her and will do anything to fix what he broke. 

“Oak Father’s blessings, Tav,” he places his fist on his chest in greeting, his voice hoarse. He takes a small step closer to her before hesitating. He wants her to decide where they go from here. She is all he wants, but he doesn’t want to push himself onto her. He doesn’t have time to finish the thought in his head before she’s dashing across the camp and throwing herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly, her legs dangling because of their height difference. Her head is buried in his neck and for a moment he forgets how to breathe let alone hug her back. He’s stunned for a few moments, and more than a little relieved that she hasn’t outright told him to shove off, and his arms wrap around her waist, holding her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, and instead she holds onto him a little tighter and he can feel the collar of his short go damp as she begins to cry silently. His eyes slip closed as he pulls her closer and he wills himself to keep it together as he uses one of his arms to grip her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist so that they aren’t dangling in midair. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart stuttering as she doesn’t pull away or snap at him not to touch her and he’s only vaguely aware that the rest of the camp is being ushered away by Shadowheart and Karlach so the pair can have their moment. Once everyone has disappeared, Tav pulls back and steps out of Halsin’s arms. He itches to pull her back but the glare she’s sending him makes him reconsider. 

“Don’t ever do that again!” she snaps, pushing him slightly. She doesn’t do it with enough force to move him, but surprise and confusion flits across his face. “You can’t just disappear like that for a week, Halsin! No one knew where you were, you didn’t leave a note - what if something had happened to you? How was I supposed to know you weren’t hurt or captured or even dead?”

His mouth flops open uselessly at her reprimand, an apology on the tip of his tongue that suddenly feels unbearingly inadequate. He can see it on the exhaustion on her face, in the dark rings under her eyes. He thought leaving and giving her some space was the right thing to do, but just like when he had slept with that elf he hadn’t stopped to consider how it would make her feel. At the time he didn’t think she would care he was gone - she was an inconsolable wreck when he left - he hadn’t realised that Tav, let alone anyone else, would have no way of getting into touch with him while he was away. The silence between them is so loud that his ears ring, and yet he still can’t find the words to say. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover the pain he’s put her through.

“You’re… you’re not hurt, right?” she asks, the anger leaving her voice as she stares at him, assessing him for any damage that she can’t see. He tries to respond with a quip or a clever comment, but he can’t. The guilt weighs too heavy on his heart right now.

“My pride, perhaps.” He offers her a weak smile as she scrutinises him. “I didn’t mean to worry you while I was away. I just wanted to give you some space.” She opens her mouth to reply but it seems it’s her turn to be unsure of what to say. She wraps her arms around her waist and looks around at the now empty camp and tilts her head towards the unlit fire. 

“We should probably talk. I promise I won’t shout and poke you this time.” A weak smile falls on her lips as she makes her way over and sits down on one of the logs. Halsin gives her a weak smile and follows, sitting on the tree stump opposite her. He has so many thoughts rushing through his mind, so many things he wants to say to her, but when he opens his mouth to say them all that comes out is an incoherent mumble followed by a low sigh. 

“I don’t know where to start, either,” she laughs nervously and runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry for how I reacted last week. I didn’t mean to explode on you. It’s not an excuse, but I was just so hurt and angry and I felt a little betrayed and…I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“Maybe,” she gives him a faint, teasing smile and he feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Hal…” She hesitates again, chewing on her lower lip. “Did you mean what you told me? When you said I was everything you want and that you-” she breaks off, her face flushing, but the words hang in the air. Did he mean it when he said he loved her? His face softens and he nods. 

“I did. I meant every word and I still do.” His voice is soft as he slides into a seat closer to her and holds a hand out in offering. He’ll let her decide if she wants to take it. From here on out she makes the calls on where they stand. He can live with being just a friend to her if it means having her in his life. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore, given all that’s happened, but I want you to know.” She fidgets in her seat and her face turns the most enticing shade of pink as she places her hand in his and squeezes gently. Halsin has to struggle not to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, but he reminds himself that she’s in charge here. 

“I meant what I said too. Somewhere along the way while we’ve travelled I...I just fell so hard and fast for you. You mean the entire world to me, Hal. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She swallows and looks up at him and how did he ever think she didn’t have feelings for him when she looked at him like that? He was blind to have not seen it before. “I’m not going to lie, it stings that you only wanted me after you thought I was taken by someone else. But...I’m selfish. I love you, Hal. I-I’m putting my heart on the line here, I want to be with you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

“Tav,” he whispers, pushing himself to his knees in front of her. “My heart does not stir easily, but…” he pauses to let out a quiet, warm chuckle. “I feel like it never truly started beating until I met you. Nature outdid itself with you, and the Oak Father will have truly blessed me if he allowed you to be by my side. My heart is yours, as is every other part of me.” Tav lets out a breathless laugh at his words and sinks down so she is also kneeling in front of him, her hand winding around his shoulders so she can fiddle with his unbound hair. 

“And mine is yours,” she murmurs, a smile flitting across her face as his hands come to rest on her waist. He pulls her onto his lap like he’s wanted to since he first realised he had fallen for her, and he’s rewarded with a beautiful blush and coy smile.

“You’re all I want. I don’t even want to look at anyone else but you.” He leans in, his lips brushing across her jaw softly before he places a kiss on her cheek. “My love, my heart, my soul; they’re all yours.” Her breathing hitches and her fingers tangle themselves in her hair in response and she leans in, her lips a breath away from his

“Halsin, may I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would ask.” He closes the gap between them, his lips brushing hers tenderly once, twice and a third time before he grips her hips and kisses her like he’ll never have the chance to again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of her hands in his hair, or the sweet sounds she makes as he pulls her impossibly closer, but he relishes the feeling all the same as they more than make up for their lost time.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi. I heard you answer questions about sex ed and I can't ask anyone this irl since none of my friends talk about any sex that isn't super cishet and allo.

I'm kind of worried I'm asexual and of course I'm ok with other people doing whatever they want with their lives and not having sex whenever and however they want, but I really don't want to not have sex. Except that whenever I think about having sex with a person I'm instantly disinterested. like even fantasizing about myself having sex in a nonspecific disembodied way turns me off.

I worried for a while that it was because I was scared of my body (like a vagina-fear/dysphoria sort of thing, which was probably true) or just didn't have any sex drive, so to figure it out I started trying to masturbate when I was sixteen (my parents tracked my search history on my phone so I actually had to go to the library and find a sex ed book in the adult section and hide the cover with my jacket while I read it just to memorize the diagrams so I could figure out where the hell the clitoris was lmao) and I did like it and was capable of feeling good and orgasming and whatever. but even after I knew that it felt good and I do have a sex drive I'm still not interested in having sex with other people (I'm eighteen now for context, so its been a while). I can't think of one person I would ever even theoretically want to have sex with, including people I know, famous hot people, fictional characters, nothing. I don't want to be asexual but I feel like I have to be because I don't want to have sex with anyone. How can I be asexual if I don't want to be, or am I even asexual? what if I just have high standards, or I haven't met someone I really like yet? what if I am ace and I'm just being ace-phobic because I've internalized the cultural norms that 'sex equals humanity'? I keep having this mental loop where I think about possibly being asexual then I conclude that I'm definitely not asexual then I start thinking about it again. I know I'm supposed to define my own identity, but if I think I'm allo but all of my feelings are the types of feelings everyone says is ace, then what am I?

obviously you're not the mind-reading wizard rabbi of the internet so you can't divine my sexuality from an ask, but do you at least have any advice for figuring it out?

thanks for listening, sorry for the tmi

hi anon,

let's take a big deep breath and calm down a little, okay? it seems like you're overthinking yourself to bastard death and that's not going to help anything at all.

listen, man: the only thing that makes someone asexual is if they decide that's something they want to call themselves. like it's literally just a word to use or not use, and it sounds like you really don't want to use it. labels are meant to be helpful in letting people express something about themselves, so if a label doesn't spark joy, don't use it. simple as that. not wanting to call yourself asexual is no more phobic than me not calling myself a lesbian - I don't have a problem with lesbians, I just personally don't happen to be one.

it sounds like the main thing getting you down here is that you're 18 and like jacking off but haven't ever super wanted to have sex with someone, which is, like, oh man that's so normal. some people just don't have a very high sex drive as it pertains to other people, dude. you've likely only met an extremely small portion of the people you're going to meet in your entire life, and you're going to have feelings and relationships and experiences you can't even begin to imagine with all the people you're yet to meet.

in the meantime, let's channel all of the energy you're spending worrying about being asexual into something that will actually make your life cooler and more fun. might I recommend reading a nice book or perhaps doing some manner of art?

[differentdragonpeanutknight]

Wu's Diary #3: About Lloyd

Another excerpt from Master Wu's diary:

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

After recovering that precious pieces from my past, I couldn't help myself but wonder why didn't Lloyd, despite being Garmadon's son and sharing the bloodline of our ancestors, didn't had any features from any of them. I was sure I heard my Father talking about this all those years ago, and if he had something to say, I certainly took notes from it.

I found the information I was looking for the next day, emerging in more of my old journals. Unfortunately it seems I completely lost one of them. Having living for centuries as I am, I should be careful and renew my wokrs on new paper. Although I'm not sure if I want my students finding out about everything from my past. Tory was the only exception to that rule (not that I had much of a choice).

Anyway, I'm replicating the same words from my journal right here:

"It has been days since Garmadon and I have been dealing with our different physiques. My brother didn't had much of a problem, of course. I'm glad for him, though. I felt like maybe I pushed him too hard, but he said he would do anything to keep Ninjago at peace.

I wish I could say the same thing for our father, though. After sparring with my brother yesterday, as I was bringing our swords to put them back in armory, I saw Father with Mystake again. She seems to be around a lot lately... I know that Father always tell us to never eavesdrop on other people affairs (especially his affairs) but I couldn't help myself.

From what I could hear, my father was afraid that someday the special tea he and Mystake had created would wear off from me and Garmadon. She tranquilized him, and said that the only way that could happen would be if another mystical force broke the balance within us. That seemed to calm him down. Then he asked 'what if one day they decide to grow a future? To have kids? Heaven knows I won't keep them away from the world outside forever.'

Mystake explained to him that even if said thing happened, the child will inherit the capabilities of the tea, too, and almost nothing can make this wear off. I hope she's right. Father still looked really tense about those probabilities."

All those years later, and Mystake was right. Even after what happened to my brother after our battle, Lloyd still looks like a complete human child. I'm glad to see that. Our family's history is already too complicated to explain, and bringing the fact of Onis, Dragons and Realms would only confuse the poor child even more. Lloyd should just enjoy his simple life.

[rey-jake-therapist]

About the AMA with McPayne and the "it was just a cool shot" I haven't seen some things mentioned.

Charlotte Brändström was the director of that scene. And, that scene was filmed during the writer's strike so McPayne couldn't be involved during the filming of that scene.

If McPayne didn't intend it to be anything more during the writing of the scene, a director might have had a different intent.

I mean, you're right, but he would definitely know if there was an intent. But again, the fact that he didn't straight out deny it leaves all the possibility that it may have been intentional.

Honestly, I'm not sure I would have given so much thought to this shot myself, if they hadn't doubled down when they filmed the wake of Galadriel.

There's also the sound to take into account : when Galadriel woke up, there was not only the video effect, but an eerie sound. And if it says anything regarding the "presence" of Sauron watching her, it could very well explain why Payne and McKay won't say anything about it yet.

First shot : Sauron has a very keen eye, we know that. He could see Adar's army from an extremely long distance, and who knows even if he wasn't able to see Galadriel and Adar talking in the tent. There's much we don't know yet about his visual capacities. Same of his hearing abilities ;) With this in mind, there's nothing extraordinary for him in being able to see Galadriel down the cliff.

Second shot : Galadriel was in an entirely new place, and Sauron was probably far gone. Meaning, he wasn't standing above her this time. If they admitted now that Sauron was capable of seeing her while being a different place, it would be admitting that he created a bond with her when he stabbed her with Morgoth's place, because it would be the only reason why he could do that. And that, they won't do.

I've often seen assumed, just as late as today, that Sauron could see the three Elven rings after they were forged, because "he can see everything, everywhere", and because the sight of the three Elven rings turned into his Eye, at the end of season 1. He also had a smug smile on his face implying he was happy with what he had just seen.

Except, except... During the finals, we got the proof that Sauron didn't see the rings, through his reaction to seeing Nenya:

"it is even more beautiful that Celebrimbor led me to believe",

is what he told Galadriel. Meaning, he had never seen it yet. I'm still very much convinced that he was somehow present in the forge when they made the Elven rings, as it was hinted here :

But the claim that he literally sees everything is taking these scenes way too literally imho. If he could see everything, everywhere, or if he can read minds as I also saw suggested, how comes he still gets surprised ? If he was really capable of "seeing everything" with his super Eye, why would he need spies ?

So, my guess is that he can feel a lot of things happening, for example : he felt that the rings were made according to his design, because he's connected to the rings, and to Galadriel as well... Hence the satistifed smug. He's also capable to collect datas about the people he connects with, when he catches them into his mind palace (or rather.... invades theirs ?) and builds illusions based on their personal memories. But I don't think that he literally "sees" everything, as if they were happening right in front of him.

So where am I going with these ideas? Simple : I think that if we're right that this visual effect was used to tell us that Sauron was watching Galadriel, the fact that he was capable to see Galadriel wake up in the "safe haven protected by the rings" informs us that because he created this bond between them, he can see her, something he wasn't able to do before unless she was within his reach.

[junkdrawerfics]

the flustered detective

Kevin Ryan X Reader

Listen, I know this isn't Twilight, and I know this is like, a super random character that probably has such a small following, but I love him sooooo much, and had to write for him. So sue me, I'll probably write more for him.

Summary: You make Detective Ryan very nervous and everyone knows it. Even you. So yah, that's it, just a cute little fic about flustered Ryan.

Word Count: 1001

---

“Just go talk to her, man.”

Ryan jumps, jolted from his thoughts as his partner slaps him on the back. He casts Esposito a scowl, straightening his ruffled vest.

“I can’t just…talk to her,” he sighs out, defeat burning behind his tone, “I can barely get a word out when she’s around me!”

“I know,” Esposito snickers, “it’s pretty pathetic, actually.”

The glare leveled at him is deadly. Esposito holds his hands up defensively, inching away with a smirk still glued to his face.

“Sorry. Just saying. You need to man up and grow a-“

“What does Ryan need to do?” 

The sound of high heels clicking along the precinct floor makes both men go stock still. Beckett rounds the corner of her desk, fine brow raised as she lets her gaze drift between the two detectives. Castle pops up behind her, smiling ear to ear, which is never a good thing.

“I believe Espo here was trying to give our friend, Ryan, a little advice on his women troubles,” he hums, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t worry, Ryan, I’m sure we can-“

“No, no no,” Ryan jumps to his feet before Castle can come up with another wild concoction of a plan. “I do not need advice from you-“ He points a finger at Javier and then spins to Castle. “And I definitely don’t need help from you, mister three divorces.” 

“It was two actually…” the writer mutters, looking at his shoes like a kicked puppy. 

Ryan gives him a pointed look, as if what he said sounds any better, “My point exactly. Listen, guys, I’m fine! I am perfectly capable of talking to (Y/n) myself.”

“Talking to me about what?”

The group freezes. Except Kate, who watches over the rim of her coffee cup, eyes dancing with amusement as Ryan goes beet red. You glance between the four, eyes wide with confusion as the men pass each other “looks”. They’re always so secretive, like they’re kids trying to carry out an awful plan. It’s more endearing than it is insulting, though. Esposito makes a show of shoving Ryan’s shoulder, making him face you before he saunters off to the break room.

“What’s going on, Ryan?” You ask as Beckett drags Castle off by the ear, against his dramatic protests.

“Oh, uh, with, with us? Nothing, we just um,” he coughs, blush spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. How cute. You fight back a smile, settling with a look of amusement that only seems to fluster him more. “We were just talking about a case! Yah a case. And I was going to…ask for your help?”

“Really?” You hum, head tilting ever so slightly. Ryan’s jaw clenches and he nods, lips pressed together tightly. You almost want to tease him a little more, see how far the blush goes, but you’re afraid his poor heart might give out. “Okay. I can help with your case! As long as Kate’s onboard.”

“Yah, yah, she, um, she’s totally onboard.” Ryan cringes at the lie. Hopefully Beckett won’t mind. 

“Great!” You smile, sticking out your hand. “I look forward to working with you, Detective Ryan.”

He nods again, rushing to take your outstretched hand. You giggle as he fumbles. Heat creeps up Ryan’s neck, and man, he wishes he could just say something smooth like Javier, or witty like Castle, but all he can do is laugh awkwardly, heart racing a mile a minute. Just because he’s holding your hand.

He’s a grown man, he chastises himself, a detective for the NYPD. He can break down doors and take on criminals, hell, even face torture, but the feeling of your hand in his? That’s what makes him crumble.

The man looks to be seconds from passing out, you realize, chest aching with something fond. You give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Hey,” you whisper, and those gorgeous blue eyes snap up to yours, wide and uncertain in a way you’ve never seen. It makes your chest ache even worse and your smile turns uncharacteristically soft for just a moment. “Easy tiger. You're doing great.”

That seems to help. Ryan forces his muscles to relax, taking a deep breath and nodding slowly. You give his hand one final squeeze. Your hands are so small compared to his, and not covered in calluses or scars, a thought he tries not to linger on as you slip away back to your desk. Just in time for his team to make a reappearance.

“Sooo?” Javier leans in front of him, eyebrows wagging, “What did you say, mister ‘I can talk to her myself’?”

“I um.” Ryan passes a hand over his neck, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation in his palm. Or maybe trying to lock it in his memory. “I may have…invited her onto the case?”

His partner's face falls. Esposito shakes his head, muttering disappointment under his breath, “Are you serious, man?”

“Yah, are you serious?” Kate presses, faking a frown. It’s impossible to be mad after watching that…ordeal play out. But she’s not one to miss an opportunity to mess with them. Just a little payback.

“It just-“ Ryan slumps back into his desk, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. “-happened. I didn’t know what else to say, okay? I just- I have the words in my head, and then she’s in front of me, and it’s like-“ He purses his lips, blowing out a sigh of frustration.

“It’s like everything gets scrambled and nothing fits together anymore,” Castle murmurs (casting a knowing glance towards Beckett, who returns it with a warning glare).

“Exactly. I just…I like her so much, you know?”

“Nope.”

Ryan just about socks Esposito in the face, glowering up at him, “Very helpful, Javi.”

“I understand, Ryan,” Kate offers.

“You do?” He perks up hopefully.

“Yah. I remember I had a hard time talking to this one guy I really liked…you know, back in middle school.”

Ryan groans, “I have no sanctuary.”

---

When I tell you I would die for this man-

[lupinmoonlight]

Submission Part 2: Establishing Rules

Masterlist AO3 Submission Part 1 Submission Part 3: Obedience

Summary - You finally gather up the courage to approach Professor Lupin and share with him your desire to give up control to him. He agrees to take on that role for you, but not without establishing clear rules and boundaries.

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, heavy D/s undertones, professor/sir kink, rules, mention of pushing limits, mention of safeword, self-degradation, mention of masturbation, my grammar.

Notes - It is NOT necessary to read part 1 to read this part. I don't know what this is, but I am planning to make this extremely kinky so brace yourselves. I am also aware that this is very out of character for Lupin, but it's nice to have a little fun with him :')

It had become an obsession now. An unhealthy obsession. Every night, once everyone in the dormitory had drifted off to sleep, you would slip a hand down your pyjamas, touching yourself to the thoughts of your professor bending you over his desk, gripping your hips as he rammed into you, telling you to take it and calling you a good girl. It was wrong, so very wrong and filthy. But you loved it. You wanted him to take control of you, to dominate you. You were so desperate for it that you would take anything he'd give you.

In his classroom, it was even worse. Though you attempted to maintain some form of self-control, your body betrayed your inner turmoil. The slightest instruction from him would cause your cheeks to flush crimson and a familiar warmth to spread through your core to the point you sometimes had to excuse yourself to the bathroom to regain your composure. It was pathetic. You were pathetic. The feeling of self-loathing was inescapable.

But even so, you found yourself at the professor's office door. Your body seemed to possess a will of its own, determined to get what it craved the most: submission. You were terrified. What were you going to tell him? What would he say? Was he even capable of all the things you imagined him doing to you? He was the kindest and softest man you'd ever encountered. Surely, he would gaze at you with his gentle eyes, wearing an expression of concern, and wonder if you had been cursed or something. But you didn't care. It was your last year at Hogwarts and you had nothing to lose, except maybe your dignity.

With a gentle knock, the wooden door creaked open, revealing the towering figure who held your thoughts captive.

"Y/N! Good to see you. Is everything alright?"

He was already concerned. Great.

"Professor. Yes, everything is okay. I just wanted to talk to you about something," you lied.

"Of course. Come in, come in!" he said warmly.

You tentatively walked in, your knees already about to give out when the scent of him filled your nostrils. It was intoxicating.

"Cup of tea? I was just about to make myself one," he asked.

"Please, that would be great," you lied again as you sat in the chair facing his desk.

"So, what can I help you with?" he asked as he placed two steaming cups of earl grey tea on his desk before taking a seat in front of you.

You didn't know what to say. Suddenly your mind was blank and you were ready to bolt out. You took a sip of your tea to give yourself time to regain your composure and set the cup back on the desk a bit harder than intended.

"I-I haven't been…feeling myself lately…" you began.

He stayed quiet, studying your face and giving you time to continue, but you couldn't find the words. How could you tell your professor to use you, dominate you, degrade you, hurt you, love you in an appropriate and respectful manner? You couldn't.

As if sensing the seriousness of the situation, he flicked his wand casually to ward the door of his office, his eyes never leaving you.

"I don't want to be in control anymore," you finally blurted out without thinking. You closed your eyes shut and held your breath, bracing yourself for the worst.

He was quiet. Too quiet. And you felt stupid. You could feel the tension in the air, almost suffocating you. You wanted to leave, to obliviate him and yourself and go back to your pathetic fantasies.

"Look at me," his voice had changed, now carrying an authoritative tone that you hadn't heard before. You opened your eyes, hesitantly meeting his gaze. The warmth in his eyes was still there, but there was a new intensity as well.

"Can you explain what you mean by 'not wanting to be in control anymore'?" he asked, his tone surprisingly even.

You took a shaky breath and tried to put your feelings into words. "I-I want someone else to take charge. I want to be told what to do. I want to give up control, but to someone I trust."

His silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity, the tension in the room almost palpable. His gaze softened for a moment, and then his expression darkened. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his eyes piercing through you.

"You're very brave to come to me with this," he said, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "I understand that this is a significant and personal request."

He paused, considering his words carefully before continuing. "If you truly mean what I think you mean, it is highly inappropriate for a professor to engage in such a relationship with a student," he continued, his tone serious.

"However, I appreciate the trust you place in me and am willing to provide you with the guidance and structure that you need," he said sternly. "If you truly want me to take control, then I need you to understand that this isn't just about fulfilling your fantasies. This is a responsibility, and I take it seriously."

You swallowed hard, feeling a sense of relief that he didn't reject you. All you could do was nod slowly, unable to even look at him.

"Good," he said, his tone softening lightly. "Before we proceed any further, there are a few things I need to make clear," he began, "this is a choice you've made, and you have the right to change your mind at any time. I will only proceed if you are fully comfortable and consenting to everything we discuss."

Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. You nodded again. You didn't trust your voice. You didn't even trust yourself not to combust if you looked up at him, so you kept your eyes trained on the desk.

"There will be boundaries and rules that must be adhered to. For the sake of maintaining our professional relationship, these rules will differ inside and outside of the classroom," he continued, his tone shifting to a more authoritative one.

"From now on, in the classroom, you will address me as 'Professor Lupin' and behave as any other student would. No special treatment, no exceptions," he continued, his voice unwavering.

"Outside of the classroom, when we are alone, you will address me as 'Sir.' You will follow my instructions and adhere to the boundaries we set. Should you ever feel uncomfortable or wish to discuss any aspect of our arrangement, you will do so respectfully and openly."

You nodded, your pulse quickening at the thought of addressing him as 'Sir.'

He stood up and walked around the desk, stopping just a few feet away from you. "Furthermore, our arrangement will never interfere with your studies or safety. You will be expected to complete your assignments, attend classes, and maintain your grades. I will not tolerate disobedience or dishonesty, and if you fail to meet my expectations, there will be consequences."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "Do you understand and accept these terms?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes what?" he pressed, seemingly unsatisfied with your answer.

"Yes, Sir," you quickly corrected yourself, feeling a thrill at the simple act of addressing him in this new way.

"Good," he said, his voice softening slightly as he returned to his seat.

He looked at you intently, gauging your reaction. "You must understand that I will not hurt you in any way that you don't explicitly consent to. This means that we will establish a safeword or signal, something that you can use to communicate your need to stop or pause our interactions. This will be a non-negotiable aspect of our arrangement. The safeword will be 'chocolate'."

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you managed to nod, understanding the importance of his words, although you didn't think you would need a safeword. You didn't want one. You wanted to give yourself up completely, but you knew better than to argue.

"You are expected to maintain the highest level of discretion regarding our arrangement, as it is important to maintain the integrity of the student-teacher relationship in the eyes of others," he added, pausing to look you in the eye.

"I understand, Sir," you agreed, feeling a little intimidated but also excited.

"While you are under my guidance," he continued, his voice deepening with authority, "you will follow my instructions without question. You must trust me completely to provide the structure you need."

"Lastly" he said, his voice firm, "know that I will be pushing your limits, but I will always prioritize your well-being. If at any point you wish to end this arrangement, you have the right to do so without judgment or negative consequences."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care behind his words, and felt a new sense of trust and connection forming between the two of you. It felt surreal. You had been fantasizing about this, obsessing over this. But now that it was happening, you were suddenly terrified. Terrified of disappointing him, of not being good enough.

"Come here," he commanded, gesturing towards himself. You obeyed, your heart pounding as you stepped closer to him. He shifted in his chair, parting his legs for you to stand between them. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. You had to fight yourself not to drop to your knees right then and there.

"Look at me," he instructed, tilting your chin up with his fingers. You raised your eyes to meet his, they were warm yet there was a darkness in them, a subtle reminder of his control over you. "Tomorrow in class, I want you to wear your hair up, so I can see your neck. It will serve as a reminder of our arrangement. Do you understand?"

You nodded, your breath hitching at the thought of exposing your neck just for him. "Yes, Sir."

"Additionally, you are to meet me at my quarters after dinner," he continued. "Be punctual and prepared. Is that understood?"

You swallowed hard, the anticipation growing inside you. "Yes, Sir,"

He held your gaze for a moment longer, then released your chin. With a flick of his wand, he removed the ward from the door. "You may go now," he said, his voice returning to the softness you were familiar with. "Remember our rules and your instructions."

Feeling flustered, you managed a quiet "Thank you, Sir," before turning to leave the room. As you stepped out into the hallway, your legs felt weak, and your heart raced. This was really happening, and the thought both thrilled and terrified you.

[spqcebunsforever]

My “Prince” Charming

Pairing: Billy loomis x reader

Summary: Y/n knows of Billy Loomis always seeing him in the halls or seeing him sit with his friends at lunch but she has never spoken to him. That is until she is walking home at night by herself and bumps into Prince charming himself.

Y/n’s pov

Of course, it's just my luck that I have to walk home in the dark by myself. I had been at my friend's house and we both had completely forgotten about the time and again just my luck my friend's parents hadn't been in so they couldn’t even give me a lift. So here I was scared out of my mind practically jumping at any noise that I heard. But I just kept telling myself that I was being paranoid and that everything would be fine but I still knew how long a walk I had to my house and this new killer on the loose didn't settle my nerves at all.

So I just kept my head up and tried to walk as fast as I could but suddenly I heard a twig snap behind me making my head immediately turn but there was nothing there no little small animal or just a person so I took a breath in and just told myself that I was imagining things. But when I turned around to again start walking I was now face-to-face with someone and I let out a little scream which made the boy jump a little problem not expecting it. The more I looked at the boy I realised just who it was.

Billy Loomis, I had never spoken to the boy but I had seen him in the halls or sitting with his friends at the water fountain but I had never actually spoken to him. “Oh my god I'm sorry for screaming but that's kind of what you get for sneaking up on someone” Billy chucked himself slightly and rubbed the back of his neck “Sorry didn't mean to scare you that bad but I just thought I'd come up to you, you know it is dangerous walking by yourself at night”. I gave him a quick smile “Yes well sadly I have no choice I was with my friends and her parents weren't home to give me a lift”. Billy just nodded and we stood for a second in silence just looking at each other until he started speaking again.

“Well if you want I could always walk you back home you know make sure you are safe” I couldn't tell if he was serious or not but I did like the idea of walking with someone rather than walking by myself so I nodded “well if you don't mind I would like that I've never been a fan of the dark I always feel like someone is getting ready to attack you”. I started walking and Billy started walking beside me “So why were you walking by yourself at this time if you know it's dangerous”. He just shrugged “I kinda like the dark I think it's peaceful and relaxing with everyone away and the silence except for the odd animal or something like that but you don't need to worry about me if anyone did try to attack me or something I am very capable of fighting back”. I just giggled “Well thank you so much for giving up on your peaceful and relaxing walk to make sure I get home okay your like my very own Prince Charming”.

Now that made him laugh and I don’t think I had ever heard Billy laugh until now “Prince charming that's a first do you treat every guy that saves you from walking home at night or does he have to be as charming as me to get a label like that” that in return made me laugh “Oh yes because it's just a normal thing for me to have guys sneak up on me at night and then offer to walk me home because I guess I'm just that popular” I playfully roll my eyes and I see Billy make a fake shocked face “Wow I didn't realise I was walking with such a big time celebrity we better be careful in case your fans get too possessive” he gives me a wry smile and I can't help the stupid big smile that's appeared on my face while talking to him “oh well then you better watch out my fans might not like that you were the lucky one to walk me home tonight they might get jealous”

“Jealous of me come on y/n don't make me laugh” he chuckled softly but then turned his attention back on me “But don't you worry if a jealous boy were to show up I would handle him easily quick and simple” I just playfully rolled my eyes again “ I would love to see that, that would make this night even better” Billy then let out a little laugh “well who knows maybe one day and I'll be fighting in your honour because of how much of a gentleman I am”. I again laugh “ I would love to see that just call me up and I'll be running” Billy then looked at me with a smirk on his face “And what makes you think that I would actually call?” he raised an eyebrow and waited for me to answer.

“Well, I would like to think you would call after all you are my prince charming”. His smile got even wider and he got a little bit closer to me as we continued to walk “Well if I did become your Prince charming I suppose you would have to give me a kiss goodnight, right?” I felt a small blush come on my face I thought “I guess it would” I noticed that we were not at my house and we both stopped “So, y/n we are at your house, aren't we, I don't suppose you could spare me a little goodnight kiss, could you”. I could still feel the blush on my face and I knew that I probably looked like an idiot but I tried my best to play it cool “Well I can't say no to my prince charming now can I” I kissed him on the cheek “thank you so much for walking me home you are such a gentleman Billy Loomis”.

Billy had a soft smile on his face as my lips touched his cheek and he winked before he responded “I'm just doing my job y/n but I suppose I should take my leave now…the Princess must rest after such a hard night out”. I walked to my door and Billy followed me “Of course, I am so tired from the long walk and you know how princesses are we are all very weak and fragile” I smirked at him and he returned it “How could I forget I suppose I'll take my leave now… unless you wanted to invite me in because you are so fragile and weak and you need some help from your Prince charming”. I knew exactly what he was trying to do and I wasn't going to stop him and even better my parents were out so we wouldn't be interrupted it was like this was just meant to happen.

“Well if Prince Charming would like to come in I am just too weak and fragile and tired to fight him on it” I opened my door and me and Billy walked in “Well if you're offering I guess I could come inside” his tone then turned into a teasing one “It might be dangerous for me to walk home by myself now you know since there are just so many monsters in the shadows” I led him to the living room and he started making himself comfortable on the couch “ see now you have to stay I wouldn't want my protector to get hurt now would I and anyway it is the least I could do”. I sat down next to him on the couch turning the TV on so we could watch something. “I hope I'm not disturbing you y/n I don't want to be intruding you know” I just shook my head “Now how could you be disturbing me if anything you've made my night so much better”.

While I was looking at the stuff to watch on the TV I felt Billy’s fingers on my face and he turned my face so that I was looking right at him. “I'm glad you feel that way because I can think of something that can make this night way more enjoyable” Again I felt my face flush and Billy started leaning closer to me and before I knew it he started kissing me and of course, I kissed him back my hands making there way up to his hair but before anything else could happen Billy stopped kissing me and I felt a sharp pain in my back. I turned around and saw the Ghost face killer I tried to scream or run but before I could do any of that the masked killer plunged their knife into my chest so fast I couldn't even count how many times they had done it. I felt myself fall off the couch and I saw Billy still just sitting there his face blank of expression I wanted to tell him to run or fight or do something but he smiled at the masked killer and then got off the couch and kneeled next to me and I saw the horrible and evil smirk he had on his face and I put two and two together and realised he was with the killer “Ya know y/n you shouldn't let strangers in your house they might just want to kill you no matter how nice they act but thanks for the kiss appreciate it”.

I wanted to say something anything but I couldn't I was in too much pain and I felt so cold and I couldn't move I felt paralysed. All I could think about was how stupid I was that I had actually let the killer into my house and how my parents would be so disappointed in me and how I would never see them or my friends again. I felt my eyes close and the pain that I felt was slowly going away the last thing I heard before everything went to black was Billy saying “Right come on let's move this stupid bitch so we can fuck off…guess I was a pretty shitty Prince charming huh”

[hedawanheda]

the babysitter

Clarke screws up, now her mom doesn’t trust her to watch her little sister on her own. Abby’s solution is to hire a babysitter, who just happens to be the girl Clarke has been crushing on for as long as she can remember.

Read on ao3

Chapter One

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Clarke protested, stalking after her mother into the kitchen. She had just informed her that someone would be coming over the following night to keep an eye on her and her sister while their mom was at work. “I am perfectly capable of being able to watch Madi by myself,”

Abby ignored her daughter’s complaining, making her way to the pantry to start prepping dinner. “Your sister begs to differ, and so do I. Considering I found her in the front yard last week in her pajamas while you were passed out drunk with your friends in the basement,” Abby scolded, giving the blonde a pointed look. “You’re lucky it’s only a babysitter and not Grandma,”

Clarke shrank back slightly, but she wasn’t going to give up. “It’s embarrassing. She probably goes to my school. On Monday everyone in the junior class will know that Clarke Griffin needs a babysitter. Do you know what that would do to me?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Abby rolled her eyes. “And she does go to your school,” she added quietly.

“Mom,” Clarke groaned. She stomped her foot like a child, frustrated and annoyed that her mom didn’t trust her with something as simple as watching an eleven year old. “What can I do to make this not happen?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Abby sighed. “Madi was the one who asked for a babysitter,”

“She did?” Clarke was taken aback. “Why did she do that?”

“Because she wants to have a responsible adult in the house while I’m away, and I agree with her,”

“That traitor,”

“Careful, Clarke. You’re already grounded,” Abby reminded her. Clarke scowled, crossing her arms.

“Well, at least tell me her name,” Clarke huffed, “If I’m going to have to bribe her to keep my secrets, I may as well know,”

“Anya,”

Anya.

That couldn’t be Anya Woods, could it?

“It totally is,” Raven teased at lunch the next day. “Anya Woods, scary soccer captain and big sister to the love of your life. She’s your babysitter,”

“Shut up,” Clarke grumbled, pushing her food around on her plate. She was slumped in her chair, defeated since her mother revealed who was going to be her, or Madi’s, babysitter. “Lexa is not the love of my life,”

“No, she’s just the girl you’ve been pining after since kindergarten, yet don’t have the guts to talk to,”

“I’ve talked to her,” Clarke countered. “She’s in my Calculus class, I sit behind her. We talk everyday,”

“Asking her for a pencil sharpener doesn’t count as talking,”

“Says you,” Clarke snapped, crossing her arms. Let her have her secret unobtainable crush in peace.

Raven smirked, her friend’s attitude amusing her. She couldn’t blame her, though. The Woods sisters were sort of legends at Polis. As soccer co-captains the two of them led their team to the state championships, putting them at the top of the social hierarchy. Clarke and her friends were popular as well, but they regrettably ran in different circles, hardly overlapping except for the few classes they shared.

“Lay off her, Raven. It’s not like you don’t drool over Anya. And you haven’t even had a conversation with her,” Octavia pointed out, causing Raven to stick her tongue out at her. “Clarke‘s at least has somewhat of a footing with Lexa,”

“We go way back,” Clarke argued.

“That one kiss in kindergarten doesn’t count-“

“Shut up.” Clarke grumbled. Yes it did, it was in fact her bisexual awakening at mere five years old. “Anya isn’t that unusual of a name. It’s probably not her,”

“Well let’s ask,”

“What are you-“

Raven was up in a flash, giving her friends one last smirk before making a beeline towards Anya’s lunch table. Clarke watched in horror as she sat down across from Anya and Lexa, giving the sisters a wide smile. The two of them looked at her confused, Anya not recognizing her and Lexa wondering why someone she hardly knows is smiling at her like that.

Raven starts speaking to them, Clarke seeing Anya nod at Raven’s question. She felt her heart drop at the confirmation, the trio looking over at her lunch table as Raven pointed her out. Clarke felt her face flush with embarrassment as she held her hand up half heartedly, giving a pathetic wave.

Lexa had a look of puzzlement on her face, returning the wave politely. Clarke watched as she turned back to Raven and Anya, Raven chatting excitedly before making her way back over to the table.

“So it turns out Anya Woods is your babysitter,” she gloated. “I made sure to tell her that you are Madi are darling angels who never misbehave,”

“I hate you,”

“Relax, I didn’t say that. But she is your babysitter. She’ll be there at seven, so I’ll be there at, say, seven fifteen?”

“You’re not coming over and embarrassing me further. Plus, I’m grounded, remember? Thanks to your brilliant idea of getting wasted last week,”

“I happen to remember you happily going along with it,”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of regrets,”

//

Lexa is doing homework in her and Anya’s shared room when her sister walks in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I got a last minute invite practice with the Polis U soccer team,”

“Are you serious?” Lexa exclaimed, shutting her textbook loudly and swiveling her chair to face her. “That’s amazing! When?”

“Tonight at seven,” Lexa frowns.

“Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting Madi Griffin then?” she asks.

“Yeah but… I can’t pass up on this opportunity, Lexa. This could lead to a spot on the team and a full scholarship. We both know how much that would help out Dad,”

“So you’re bailing?” Lexa gawked, watching her sister gather her hair into a high bun before moving to her closet to find an outfit.

“I’m not bailing, I’m simply replacing myself,” Anya said, back turned towards Lexa as she rummaged through her closet. She purposefully did not face her sister as she said this.

“With who?”

“Funny you should ask…”

“Oh no,” Lexa knew where Anya was going with this. “You’re not doing this to me,”

“Come on, Lex! How long have you liked this girl? Literally over a decade. And this is the perfect opportunity to get to know her better, it’s basically the premise of a porno. Plus it would really help me out, please?”

Lexa rolled her eyes, jaw set as her mind raced with the possibilities of what could happen tonight. Chances are she would make a fool of herself, she was never able to function properly around pretty girls. Especially ones she kissed once when she was five.

“Clarke probably won’t even come out of her room. You’ll just be with Madi. You can handle her, can’t you?”

“Of course I can, she’s nine,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “But I don’t want to,”

“Lexa. What’s with it with Clarke Griffin? Usually around girls you’re all game, but with her you become this awkward bumbling mess. It’s so unlike you,”

“Clarke is special,” Lexa said softly. “She’s not just some girl. Not to me,”

“Right. She was the girl. The one who made you realize your raging lesbianism,” Anya smirked, pulling an athletic shirt over her head. “Yet you haven’t made a move in twelve years,”

“She’s out of my league,” Lexa shrugged. “I’ve accepted it. Plus we probably have nothing in common,”

“You both like each other. You have that in common,”

“Shut up. She does not like me,”

“Then go and find out,” Anya grabs her soccer bag out of the closet. “Are you going to make me say please?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,”

“So you’ll do it?”

“I want to hear you say ‘please’ first,”

Anya rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible. I’ll text you the Griffin’s address from my car. They’re expecting you at seven, so get there around six fifty. Thank you so much, Lex,”

She leaves in a hurry before Lexa could protest, saluting her sister as she walks out the door. Lexa sighs, spinning around in her chair as she thinks about what she had gotten herself into.

//

Clarke’s sitting on her couch with Madi, a bowl of popcorn mixed with M&M’s between them as they watched episodes of Grace and Frankie.

Abby comes into the room dressed in her scrubs, looking down at her phone. “Anya will be here any minute. I left money on the counter for pizza, and there’s stuff in the pantry to make cookies if you get bored,”

She suddenly whips her head towards the TV when she hears Jane Fonda yell ’fuck!’

“What are you watching?” she asked sharply, folding her arms together as gave her older daughter a pointed look.

“It’s fine, Madi’s old enough,” Clarke rolled her eyes, popping an M&M in her mouth.

“She’s nine, Clarke!”

“Almost ten,” said Madi.

“There’s nothing bad in this show,” Clarke shrugs, just as Lily Tomlin’s character lights up a joint onscreen. Clarke frowned. Perfect timing. “Besides that,”

“This is why mom doesn’t trust you enough to watch me alone,” Madi gloats. “Which is why we need a babysitter.” Clarke glares at her.

“Don’t give her that look, Clarke. She’s right,” Abby placed her hands on her hips. “Turn it off,”

Clarke dramatically sighs. “Fine, I’ll turn on She Ra. Or is Madi too young for that, too?”

Abby doesn’t answer her sarcastic remark because the doorbell decides to ring at that moment. She just shakes her head sternly at Clarke and goes to greet the babysitter.

“You must be Anya,” Clarke heard her mom say when she answers the door. She slumped down on the couch, sighing dramatically as Madi snickered next to her.

“Actually, no,” Clarke froze. She knew that voice. Crap. “She had something come up, so she sent me instead. I hope that’s okay. I’m Lexa,”

[wordsandrobots]

Jotting down a half-formed thought.

Some years ago, I went to an XML conference in Oxford (that makes it sound fancy but off-season college food is universally terrible) and one of the speakers was a gentleman who worked for Wikipedia. And one of the things he said was that what he aspired to, with Wikipedia, was something akin to the ship's computer in Star Trek, where you could go, "Computer tell me about pottery on Bronze Age Cyprus," and it would return all the information you could want. An aspirational idea, to be sure, and not an aim I object to, but an example of how fiction shapes what we want out of technology.

A couple of weeks ago, my workplace held one of our semi-regular informal meetings about so-called 'AI' and the impact on our industry, which I generally avoid because I am an avowed Luddite when it comes to this latest round of 'wonderful new technologies' being promoted at break-neck pace by investment capital. My contributions to the meetings when I do go are generally of a wet-blanket kind and this time was little different even though we were talking about 'fears around AI', because a well-intentioned colleague started the discussion with Roko's Basilisk and the Paper-Clip Maximiser. Politely speaking, these are two rather implausible scenarios concerning the creation of general artificial intelligences, which do not have much bearing on the subject of large-language models and supposedly-assistive automation. I bit my tongue a lot, despite finding myself talking more than usual, mostly on account of thinking that focusing on these fantasies is a distracting waste of time when 'AI' tools are being deployed willy-nilly in efforts to devalue people's labour, to say nothing of exposing the tech sector's childish disregard for creativity as a part of human experience.

I fear the loss of skill and information at scale as a consequence of another capitalistic fool's gold-rush far more than I do hypothetical non-human intelligences we are not close to creating, and that would reside within extremely vulnerable infrastructure if we did.

Nevertheless, it got me thinking about Issac Asimov and the laws of robotics, his set of impossibly vague rules created to drive stories on the basis of finding all the ways they would go wrong.

A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.

(Please appreciate how many philosophical concepts an AI would have to understand in order for these to be practicable.)

And that got me thinking about 'robot' stories in general, all the way back to Karel Čapek and Rossum's Universal Robots, which is of course not about thinking machines at all but rather the proletariat, 'robota' meaning as it does 'forced labour'. Decades later, Luke Skywalker and his uncle were buying slaves made from steel and gold to work on their farm. 'Robot' displaced 'automaton' in popular language, and injected its original, class-structure meaning into unthinking clockwork. Fictional metal robots become beings capable of thought. Alien, yes, yet in some measure conscious and subject to all sorts of ethical considerations and imagined horrors. We've largely left behind Čapek's conception of human-like beings assembled from separately grown organs, the production-line person, but his tale of a genocidal revolution persists.

Discussion around automation and 'AI' seems to me to be soaked in a morbid desire for a 'safe' intelligent servant. Science fiction has shaped how we hold those discussions, naturally, directing our concerns at 'robot uprisings' and being 'surpassed' in some way (or all ways). It goes without saying that a great deal of the fiction functions as metaphor. To pick an example I've just finished rereading, Ann Leckie's Ancillary books are as much commentary on real-world imperial practices as they are an exploration of personhood and how general AI might be implemented per se. Unavoidably so. Will we ever extract 'robot' from Čapek's work and the industrial models that shaped his writing?

Perhaps not, but this isn't really the question I'm concerned with here. No, what I'm grappling with is the appeal of having an intelligence serve our whims. From the simple humanisation of tools, both in the sense of 'prompts' and 'hints' taking a conversational tone, to the desire to supplant actual humans with pliable alternatives that has Elon Musk wheeling out a bloke in a leotard like he's restaging The Five Doctors, it's a thread that has become wrapped around how we engage with . . . well, with technology. With constructions meant to assist us, that more often than not cannot replace us (yet) and require us to assist them.

In reality, the ethical questions arising are blunt and ugly. Whose work do we value? By what criteria does society judge who it supports and who it discards? How is remote technology used to circumvent natural, negative human responses to violence? Did those companies pay for that data, and do we want them to be able to buy it at all?

Still the fantasy persists. "Computer, answer my question." "Robot, do my chores." "AI, you won't rise up and kill me, will you?"

This is not an original observation, to be sure. I am inclined to seek out analyses of these trends in discussion around new tech, although I fear it would mean going back to Frankenstein and working forward. It just struck me, forcibly, that the metaphors for labour discontent and slave uprisings have imposed their own logic on both the fears and the hype around 'AI', be it the real thing or the glorified spell-checkers used to pretend art can happen at the touch of a button.

I have nothing against automation as a tool for making life easier, just as I see no possibility of that promise being fulfilled while capitalistic priorities rule the world. We have to pivot to centring human good first, and that's the core of the struggle.

But I'm also beginning to think we need to seriously ask why we want our tools to be glorified. Why we would want, not just speech recognition as an assistive feature for those who can't type, but specifically something that can speak to us in Majel Barrett's voice and hold an intelligent conversation. Why we are sold objects intended to play-act being 'part of the family' and why those selling them consider it desirable.

I don't suppose the answer will be less depressing than 'owning people is the highest mark of prestige in the societies producing these discussions. Even so, it's probably worth unpicking.

[ezrazone]

making this non-rebloggable and may delete it, but i do want to talk about my first experience as a literary critic because i think it matters despite my wanting nothing to do with the subject of the piece for as long as i live. this is not a callout or a call to action. please be advised to leave this guy alone. i can forgive them now that their behavior towards me has stopped.

this past winter, ahead of my first article as a comics critic, i very naively hoped to have a conversation with another cartoonist about the philosophical ideas their latest book is wrestling with. i ended up having a tense but respectful discussion with the author, which they then chose to lie about to both their twitter audience for sympathy and then in outrage via emails to my editor at the online journal in hopes of having me blacklisted or getting the review censored or scrubbed. it went nowhere (except a small handful of petty comments on the article itself, parroting the version of events that the author invented for twitter) and an internal investigation at the journal, which yielded the obvious (that the claims were completely fabricated, as evidenced by our written correspondences on either side of an uncomfortable phone-call and the actual review which is critical but not malicious or personal).

i think it’s very easy to get wrapped up in the indignity of the experience and the horror-magnet of this individual personality. i think i got off pretty easy; this is not someone with a great deal of power or influence (i am far from the first person to trigger their tar-pit behavior on twitter), it never followed me to other social media, and i got to keep my article up because it was fair and professional. i still have my job as a freelancer with the journal.

but i think something matters from my experience, beyond the interpersonal confusion - i cannot possibly understand why they behaved the way they did and will lose my mind if i try. but what i do have is new insight into the way that people are prone to covet acceptance via professional work, how the myth of creating something genius in isolation promises to resolve all of your personal and spiritual issues - and how “bad reception” (or merely insightful reception, or reception you personally disagree with as a creative worker) appears to threaten your safety and your sanity.

being begged by someone who has published multiple substantial graphic novels - achievements i am nowhere close to undertaking myself at this point in my creative development - not to “cancel them” by writing a completely warranted review of their hugely ambitious comics project was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on my own delusions of grandeur. this awful social interaction has begun a chain reaction of ego deaths in me that only seem to accelerate as i wrangle pieces of my health from the jaws of my long covid crash last year.

i cannot possibly care about being Da King of Comics anymore. it’s just fucking comics.

anyways you can read my review on SOLRAD. and you are obviously advised to leave the artist alone. i think it’s very cool, actually, that i was able to walk away from an encounter like that knowing that 1) i treated this person during our actual encounters with respect, compassion, curiosity and consideration and 2) that i would write a fair review no matter how much they thrashed and cursed me and begged me to become a part of their annihilation fantasies. i have never felt more clear on who i am or what my work is capable of.

i hope by sharing about my experience that i do not re-provoke this person, since writing the review at all sent them into a blackout rage of self-pity and entitlement for several weeks. i have never described them publicly as they actually treated me, but i don’t think i’ve become a better person by sitting on it. maybe this can be part of me letting them go.

i still find the book interesting. i could have written an article that was 5x the length of the one on SOLRAD and not even scratched the surface of how meaningful the book is to me. isn’t that kind of sad, that these characters could have lived on through me or through anybody? i could have made comics about it, new drawings and illustrations to heighten the things that worked while acknowledging the things that cannot work.

we are so culturally petrified of subjective audience experiences and transformative work. we are so wedded to our own egos, to being regarded as individually pure and infallible. it’s a huge disservice to the work we actually make, which is so much bigger than this individual’s emotional response to embarrassing themselves in front of a colleague.

they admitted to me over the phone that they had not read any single philosopher name-checked in their book. they had only listened to breadtube playlists. i had not pressed very hard; just listened, just observed them openly. the next four months would be colored by their own horror at this admission of their own incuriosity and what they feared i might do with it. they’d call me an “adult bully” in their twitter takedown, hreatening to “kick their corpse” by calling them “a bigot” and by “refusing to explain why”. i had only accepted them as they were and promised to treat their work with respect and dignity.

i declined, over the phone, to give this person experiencing severe emotional distress a new reading list. they reacted as if, because they perceived me as “knowing better”, i was doing violence to them by not immediately teaching them all that i know. instead, i outright rejected the framing that there was something wrong with their book because they had not “read enough” and instead tended to their emotional well-being, reassuring them that i cared for their future as an artist and took the review seriously. they were able to calm down as we spoke and they thanked me for being a safe person. they seem to have changed their mind later, after the story underwent several escalating permutations.

we’re all doing enough. we can do more, when we accept that our work is already in other people’s hands. my plea to the proto anne rices of the world. rice said she obliterated all of that fan work and fan discussion from the internet with her massive legal financial and social power because she was worried that reading something about her work might cause her writer’s block.

you can make something exceptionally wonderful and it will matter very little if you cannot share it. allow it to be witnessed. allow somebody to disagree with it. make work with the expectation that most people will not understand it. world peace my final message etc

[ivymyers]

Problematic (Bucky x Reader)

ig I just like writing about bad things happening to y/n :,)

(There’s a part where I reference Bucky’s hands. Just know one is the metal arm, I just didn’t know how else to say it.)

I honestly don’t know what insanity made me write this but here it is. 

Also, don’t expect anything from me for about a week, I’ll be on a vacation.

SOMEONE GIVE ME A REQUEST I’M BORED. (I’ll literally write almost anything)

Around 2.1k words.

Warnings: torture, injury, agnst, Hydra, mentions of death, mentions of rape, low self esteem, anxiety, nightmares (seriously, don’t read if it’s going to bother you)

—-----

You had stuck with your boyfriend Bucky for so long. When he had nightmares you always comforted him, when his panic attacks got bad you always calmed him, and when he needed to talk you were there. For the two years you had been together you both supported each other. The pair of you were inseparable, the time either of you were away on missions away from each other was actually painful.

[In the meeting room]

“Hyra base. That’s our next mission.” Tony stated. “I’m sending Sam, Clint, and y/n on this one. It’ll be just a quick in and out. You’ll be clearing the area out, it should be relatively small. We’ve done a scan of the base from above and it seems like this should be a quick trip. Sam, come in from above, we want a nice view of the action. You shouldn’t have to do too much. Clint, you will be taking shots from a distance. y/n, you will be on the ground fighting. I’m confident that you can handle a few Hydra soldiers” He winked in your direction. “Questions?”

Bucky was the first one to speak, “Yea, why is y/n the only one out there?”

“Did you not just listen? I swear Barnes you only hear when y/n’s name is mentioned. It’s a small mission and I’m sending THREE avengers. That’s more than enough.” 

“Buck I can take care of myself, I'll be fine.” You chimed in.

 “Y/n is one of our strongest magic users. She’s more than capable. Now that we’ve all discussed Barnes’s separation anxiety, any real questions?” Tony went on. “Great. We leave at 6:00 am tomorrow.”

[Later that night]

“Bucky- we went over this. You have too much of a tie to Hydra. I can handle this.”

“Y/n. I really think I should go with you. I know how to deal with them, I don't trust the situation. Something doesn’t sit right with me.” Bucky began to raise his hands as he does whenever he gets worked up.

“Are you saying I can’t do this?”

“Of course not it’s just-”

“I’m going to bed, Buck. I need to be up early. Don’t bother sending me off the two-day mission that I’m not capable of protecting myself on.”

“Jesus y/n. If you put it that way then maybe I won’t. I’ll see you in two-days then. You can be so…problematic.”

It was just a fight. A small one, nothing you couldn’t handle. Bucky kept his word the next morning. His last words to you sticking to your skin like dew drops to a leaf. You’d fix it when you got back, right?

Except you wouldn’t get the chance to you. There were way more soldiers than you’d anticipated. Bucky was more than right to worry. Hydra had you cornered and there was nothing you could do as they dragged you away. 

San got the whole thing on camera as he was scouting from above. All the team could do was watch as one of the strongest Avengers was helplessly dragged away.

Bucky didn’t know what to do. The last words he exchanged with you were in anger. The frustration built up and began to eat at his insides. He knew Hydra better than anyone on the team. If they did anything close to you what they did to him- he didn’t want to imagine it. 

Meanwhile you were taken and tied up in a metal chair in a stark white room. Your magic did not work when you tried. The whole place looked clean and was decently large for you being the only one in there. Then you remembered. Hydra. 

You didn’t have any information about secret plans or missions or tech or anything to share. So when the torture began your screams echoed and there was no ammunition you had to counter you painful days and sleepless nights. No breaks, just constant hurt. All while Bucky’s words ran through your head over and over and over and over.

 Problematic. That was he had seen you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been there for. But sometime into your stay things began to get even worse. They gave you minimal food and water. They began to torment your nights as well by splashing water over you while dead asleep. Waking you with beatings or weapons. But the worst of it by far was the sexual abuse. They raped you countless times as you struggled against their strength. It became too much to bear.

The room was now covered in blood. They hadn’t once cleaned an inch of the space you were in. The metallic scent was always in your noise and the crust of dried red followed your eyes to every corner. But by now you were used to the smell and your vision was blurring from malnourishment anyway.

When you weren’t concerned over when your next meal would come or when the next attack would happen, Bucky filled your mind. Did he care? Was he thinking of you? Or was he glad his problem was gone. The thought of it alone was almost worse than the torture. 

You had nothing left. 

But then gunshots were heard from outside your room. And through your hazy self could barely process when Bucky broke down the door. He held your barely breathing body in his hand as you struggled the most you could, which was not very hard.

“No…no, no. Stop. Let me go. Not again…” You whispered barely audible. 

“Love, it’s me Bucky. I’m not going to hurt you darling.” His heart broke when hearing your cries. He knew exactly what hydra could do to a person.

 He sat there with you until Sam and Tony came through and saw the two of you and told him to carry you back. 

On the ride back Bucky held you in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair he was beginning to stress whether you would even make it. Your pulse was faint and you had so much blood all over you. He couldn’t tell which wounds were currently open and which ones were old. Your broken lifeless body was painful for him to look at, yet he couldn’t seem to look away. 

[Back at Avengers Tower]

You opened your eyes to no blood on the walls and IVs in your arms. The room was slightly larger than the one you were in before. But something felt different about this room. The door opened and you shut your eyes tight as they went and pulled the covers that you didn’t have before up to your face. 

Your breaths came short and fast and visions of what happened before shot through your memory. The pain. The humiliation. The shame. What horrors would you face now?

“Y/n you’re awake! Oh, hey, hey. It’s just me. Bruce see? You’re home.”

His voice flooded your senses and you began to calm. Wait. Did he say home? You moved the covers from your face to see the Avenger who had patched you up as best he could since you had returned. Sure enough it was a friendly face you were met with. You stared at him in return.

“You really took a beating out there y/n. Do you want me to go over your medical reports with you now or wait for Bucky to be here too so that I won’t have to repeat it.” 

When you didn’t respond he knew something was really wrong. Obviously they had tortured you physically, but something was broken in your mind as well. 

When you saw his reaction you plastered a smile on your face and told him to bring him in, hoping Bruce didn’t see your smile fall as he left the room. Being alone suddenly became scary, you were so used to only preparing for the next visit that all you could do was listen to your own heartbeat when Bruce left.

You didn’t hear the door open. But you felt Bucky’s strong body crash into your weak one. What you did hear was Bruce saying he’d give you some alone time.

“Bucky…”

“Oh doll…” his voice trembled as he spoke. Bucky’s hand shook as he reached out to touch your face. 

You flinched at his touch and in that moment he thought of every possible type of pain Hydra could’ve put you through. His eyes glistened with tears and he saw how frail you looked. 

You jumped when Bruce opened the door again. “Ready to go over the medical reports?”

You had a broken ankle, two bruised ribs, one broken rib, three broken fingers, a sprained wrist,. a dislocated leg, stab wounds, a minor concussion, and countless cuts and bruises. Not to mention a black eye. 

Suddenly, Bucky inhaled, stood up and left the room. 

Deep down you felt something snap. You felt a mix of emotions. Did Bucky not want you anymore? Were you really that broken?

Bruce followed Bucky and you left with your own tears. After one week in the room, Bruce and the doctors they assigned to let you go back to you and Bucky’s room as long as you came for daily checkups. 

[Later that night, first night back in your room]

As soon as sleep drifted upon you the nightmares began to torture you. Memories and fear alike, this was the first time sleep became such a punishment for you. 

You awoke in a scream of terror and to Bucky holding you tears streaming down both of your faces. He held you and rubbed your arms. 

“I’m gong to fucking kill every last one of them y/n. You don’t deserve any of this. You hear me.” He whispered into the side of your head. 

Again, something in you clicked and you stiffened up. Bucky immediately noticed and pulled away. 

You both knew you weren’t going to get any sleep so the two of you stood up to cool down. Then the questions came.

“Doll, tell me what happened. You have to tell me what they did.” He was angry. Not at you, but his rage still scared you. As Bucky kept rambling, hands flying through the air, your eyes got wide and the thoughts of pain and fear came tumbling back into your head and you backed into the wall. Hand at your mouth to silence the tears, you slid down the wall. No noise came from you, yet the sound in your head drowned out everything else. 

Bucky turned to face you not knowing what to do. 

“Problematic” were the words that you sobbed out when he pulled you into a hug. 

“Darling- I never meant those words. I love you with everything I am. How long- Jesus-” He ran his hands through his hair. “How long were you thinking of those words? The truth. Now.” He stared you down.

You looked away, “every goddamn moment.” you mumbled. “I thought of them and you every second I was in there. When I wanted hope all I had was that.”

Guilt seeped through Bucky’s mind, a million different thoughts jumbling together. But you weren’t done.

“They beat me until my bones broke and I needed stitches I never got. They almost drowned me several times. They held me at gunpoint. They told me I was worthless over and over until I believed every word of it, and I still do. They abused me until I was sick- even then didn’t stop. They locked me in a room of corpses and made me spend the night in it. They raped me so much that my skin does more than crawl. Fuck, I’ve been awake for a little over a week now and not one other person besides you and Bruce have even bothered to visit! So forgive me if I’m hurting a little.” You were screaming out your words by the end.

It broke Bucky, The thought that someone else’s hands were on you. The thoughts that they made you think. He trembled from everything you told him. 

“Doll…my y/n…I regret every word that I said before you were- God I messed up. You matter more to me than anything else. Don’t ever think you’re worthless. And the rest of the Avengers, they thought it best to give you a little space. I’m so sorry Doll.” 

You slammed your body against his and let your tears fall onto him. Clutching onto him, deep down you knew you'd recover with lots time, as long as Bucky was by your side.

----------

Did you like it?

[stuff-plus-textposts]

Nothing At All is a Good Song

Nothing At All is a song from How To Dance In Ohio the musical that I really really like. I have this whole animatic to it mapped out in my head, but I haven't got the skill or patience to actually draw it. But the song's singer Desmond Edwards said that they would want to read the outline I've written, so here it is! It's very long and I'm sorry.

I work in a lab at a hospital, and this is about my job.

I walk into the lab, into the break room, and put my purse down. On “It’s not like I’m shocked by the ableist cliches, but they do make me tired,” I reach into my purse and put on a barrette (which I actually wear everyday). The barrette then turns red and becomes a wisp of smoke following me. 

“Do I only exist on this planet to make somebody else feel inspired?” I’m grabbing a lab coat from the closet when the wisp flies away from me, I turn to follow it and see one of my coworkers waving at me. Said coworker is drawn with no eyes or nose, just a mouth and eyebrows - everyone in the animatic is drawn like this except for myself. I wave awkwardly back. 

“I’m no object of pity, and if that’s what you see, then clearly you aren’t seeing me” the camera circles around me, showing a hallway that looks like I’ve made it longer for dramatic effect but that actually is that long, and then pans around so you can see my face as I start walking down the hall towards the core lab. 

I pretend to be my own OCs a lot, so the characters I turn into are my own characters. As I turn into each one, the wisp of red smoke becomes an article of clothing on them. First is Jaimy, who has a big red bow. Then Tris, who has a red ring, and finally Jada, who has a red headband. As the line gets to “today’s look is nothing, nothing at all” I fade back into my normal self with the wisp of smoke at my shoulders, and walk over to my work station. I type at my computer with the wisp curling over my wrists, I grab a pneumatic tube that’s just come in with the smoke curling around the tube and my hands. 

“I try to have patience meeting folks where they’re at” I sit at my chair talking to my boss, who is on one knee in front of me because she's really tall. “But this gets under my skin” she stands up to walk away. “Cause if you’re writing about me, then getting to know me should be where you begin” my boss goes over to one of my coworkers, a guy who acts like and is treated like he’s a supervisor even though he’s not, and says something. The two of them look directly at me, then back at each other. 

“It’s so condescending assuming the worst” We see my hand reaching towards a piece of paper on a printer, which is me attempting to do an assignment that I’m capable of doing but don’t have permission to do. The wisp of smoke curls around my hand and pulls it back, forcing me to turn away and see my boss. I glare daggers at her but that’s all I can do. 

“When I’m Wanda Maximoff” My glare fades and I turn into my OC Taylor, the red wisp becoming a wand in my hand. “I can change my own reality” using the wand, I open up a centrifuge and remove the tubes of blood to float in front of me. Unlike most of the animatic, which is black and white, the tubes are in color. They’ve been spun already so you can clearly see the red blood cells at the bottom, the separator gel, and the plasma/serum on top. Some of the tubes have light green tops and some have gold tops (if you’re curious what I’m talking about, look up centrifuged blood gold top). “When I’m Gaga I’m ready to rehearse” I change into my OC Jodie, stepping forward into a pirouette, the red wisp turns into a rehearsal skirt, and the tubes of blood are still floating in front of me. “When I’m Miles Morales I really do believe I am a superhero in the multiverse” I change into my OC Cytherea and start to float, the wisp becomes glowing red eyes, and for a moment the tubes of blood turn into crystals in front of me. “But todays look is nothing, nothing at all” I morph back into myself and come back down to the ground. The tubes of blood become tubes of blood again and return to my hands. The red wisp goes back to being a red wisp at my shoulders. 

“Then come the voices of doubt saying right on cue” we see the core lab, where my coworkers are doing regular core lab stuff, like typing at computers and putting stuff into machines. “This world will never make space for people like you” my coworkers all look at me, now looking angry, and now shaded red. I take a step back. “I see my past rejections framed and hung on the wall” The tubes of blood fall out of my hands, not like I dropped them or anything but just like in a floaty way. I also start to float as the background becomes black behind me, and we see representations drawn in red of various crappy things that have happened to me. This includes F’s on papers, children laughing at me, and mean quotes people have said to me. They scroll by in the background. 

“And I wish I felt nothing, nothing at all” I start crying and I curl up into a ball. The background changes to say in giant red letters “Autism.” But then the red disappears from the actual word, turning it white; the red becomes becomes the wisp again, circling around my whole body. “Nothing at all” the black background fades, leaving me in a cloud of red. “So sick of good intentions, that only make me feel small” still surrounded by the cloud. I look up and see the lab in front of me, except I am literally small now, and it is huge. “Your good intentions all add up to” I fall to my knees with my hands over my ears. “Nothing at all” suddenly I am normal sized again, holding the tubes of blood like I was before. I shake my head a little bit and look startled, as if I was trying to shake myself back to reality after zoning out. 

In the instrumental break, I walk over to one of the stations in the core lab and put the tubes of blood in the rack. Then I’m seen getting my purse and leaving the lab. 

“That’s why tomorrow night I will not be at the formal dance” we see me driving home, coming inside, and walking upstairs to pull out my laptop. “though I’ve worked hard to get there all this year.” The red wisp settles around my shoulders, still weird and wispy but not floating anymore, just resting. I take a deep breath and open my laptop. “That’s right, tomorrow night I will be doing my first livestream” I open up a zoom meeting entitled ‘Ableism in the workplace’ and click join, “to discuss the controversy further here!” I wave at the people in the meeting, and you can see the clock behind me displaying the time 5:30. “Cause the whole conversation” we see a girl wearing noise cancelling headphones talking on the screen. “Needs a huge overhaul.” We see a boy talking on the screen. “And if we simply do nothing.” I wave again, and you can see that the clock reads 6:30 now. I close the laptop and look sad. The red wisp starts to float again “nothing will change at all.” The wisp becomes a single red tear which falls down my cheek. 

In the final instrumental, I wipe the tear away. My hand stays on my face as I move it up to rub at my head, like I’m pushing my hair away from my face. When I pull my hand away, the red is gone and it has turned back into the barrette that I put on at the beginning. I set the barrette down on top of my laptop, alongside my employee badge, and stand up to walk away. The end.

Don't worry though, this makes my job sound awful, but it's actually really cool and most of my coworkers don't suck. This is a picture taken for lab week a few weeks ago, I'm the white girl sitting in the front :)

@wakanda-never I hope you like it! I know it isn't exactly what the song is about, but it's what it makes me feel. Thank you for everything you did with HTDIO, it's one of my favorite musicals ever because it makes me feel so seen.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I have zero stress in my life, with exception that sometimes I do too much to pump up my skinny arms at the gym. This is not hubris or fantasy. I have a lover who honors that I only do what I love, not one day a week, but all days. But this is not about my lover because true love never begins or ends with a lover. This is about my devotion to love.  I feel that  we get too caught up in the acquisition of love, being chosen by someone and looking for what we can get in return, rather than doing the work to simply embody love as principle, evolving into the kind of person who is actually capable of loving another human soul well, first beginning with ourselves (our cells). Love also includes how we love animals and nature. It's all divine energy accumulating in our cells. I studied love. I studied love as a creative outlet. I studied strangers and couples of all sexualities and ethnicities whom energies resonated as loving. I would study their interactions and banter and fall in love with what I saw. I read simple books on love like Thich Nnat Hahn's "Teachings on Love" over and over again at least 30 times. I listened to songs that only felt like love. I discovered ways to unlock the tension around my heart/breasts and pelvis so that my body could release the archaic contractions and open up wide. I would bathe like love. As a result, it was only a natural next step that I would became a passionate lover. A passionate lover instinctively attracts more truthful love. When we have love, we have creative energy in our lives that we can utilize to help us to create heaven on earth. With more love energy embodied, life will start to feel really good for no reason at all. My way of loving and being in union was re-calibrated from the violent template I saw modeled in my home and community after a terrible breakup, breakdown, and breakthrough into one where loving is habit and self-love is principle. I am consistently spoiled with beautiful things, awakened to the presence of beauty in everyday life most days. I am encouraged to care for myself and do nothing at all, anytime, any day, at any hour. My body is nourished and easily orgasmic to the breeze of a gentle inhale.  It is no longer through the spirit of struggle, lack, tension, hustle, and deadlines, but from living the intimate, sensuous, tantric, magnetic arts that I birth a series of bestseller books that will burst hearts into mystical, sensuous, transformative, dewy pieces. I started to visualize a slow regenerative way of life 15 years ago, one that would include travels, naps, and time and space to cook homemade food without rushing, a real life where I adored being offline with ease far more than online. I would talk to nature and ask for guidance and just allow my body to hold a little more of the vision every day as if I was pregnant. I was! I also asked the holy spirit of love to utilize me; to utilize my mind and heightened intuition; to utilize this pelvis, hips, feet, cylindrical breasts, and heart and enhance my flow of energy; to utilize my tongue and warm mouth to sing beauty and write from loveliness; and even these hair follicles to amplify expanded possibilities for us all. Our mission is only valid when it includes evolving and expanding the light, universe energy, and possibilities within other people.  I stopped needing to possess this body; I know I cannot be contained by it. I can only serve as a conduit and create some deliciousness from its amplified attributes (as a result) of being utilized by Source energy. Most days my body is more a conduit of divine energy than something that I need to claim full ownership over.  We become conduits. This is how God uses us and how we help one another evolve and heal. Even our open-hearted nude bodies can be greatly healing for others. Life loves to fan the flames of our sweltering visions, warmest beliefs, swollen perceptions, and deepest desire frequencies. When you begin to own your mind and what's living in it, you shake loose your potencies. Your potencies are your divine energy. When you access the divine energy of love, your body gets softer. You now feel like love. The pitch/tone of your voice shifts; you now speak like love. You gait ascends; You now walk like love. Your scent evolves; you now smell like love. Your taste buds elevate; you now eat like love. Your relationship to your body, spine, and breathing transforms; you now fuck like love. You are love. Love has always been a noun, you see.

India Ame’ye, Author, Pictured

[unbrcakablc-hcart]

What even happened? Who did what?

God, okay, so. This might sound pretty stupid. The first thing I think I should say is that this happened in a group chat off of Tumblr; I don't think many of these people have blogs. It was run/created by... uh. Someone I thought was a friend but I guess ain't anymore. Anyway.

Secondly is that this truly started off in such a dumbass way.

Like. Talking about some real mundane shit. I was essentially going "I wanna swim I've only done that like 3 times tops in my life because I don't want to dirty the water that other people where I'm from could be drinking" because. You know. I live in a desert.

This gets long so. Be ready for that.

tl;dr: lady wants to study my sisters and therefore me by proxy. I don't take kindly to that. She calls me weak and stupid and naive for not keeping my mouth shut in a place where I had originally felt reasonably comfortable with people. Only 4-5 people argue with her and everyone else just tries to act like nothing happened, and one person insisted that I should just try to find common ground and get along. She doubles down on her bullshit and I decide this is a load of shit and leave.

This person whose name I still don't know, so I guess I'm going to just call her Ox because that's the emoji she was using. She pointed out that I can't really be dirtying the water any more than any other creature that gets in it, which... like, yeah, fair, except the point is that I live(d) on a desert planet with very little water and there really ISN'T that much in the way of wildlife on No Man's Land.

Which I know she wouldn't know, because just as I know nothing about her, she knows nothing about me. So anyway. I explain that. And I also make the dumbass decision to mention that my sisters are generally responsible for producing a vast majority of the potable water on the planet.

Because by this point I've been pretty open about being a Plant, right? I don't really talk about it frequently because it's just not something that comes up often, but I'm not hiding it on purpose or anything either. It gets kind of tiring trying to explain the whole thing anyway.

I realize I've made a mistake because Ox talks about how sentient beings producing water is fascinating, and I'm a little on edge, so I go, ahahaha, I guess I probably shouldn't really talk about my sisters.

And Ox is like, "That's not the wrong way to go about it. If you want to protect something, it's best to keep it hidden. Lock it away, never to see the light of day. It's like the advice I'd given to that girl and her Aubade."

Don't know what the hell she's talking about, and I probably overreacted a bit by going okay, noted, won't share anything about myself again, because I literally did not ask for that advice, and do not care for it.

She replies, "It's foolish to announce you have something unique, don't you understand. Unwanted attention, conflict. If you're not cut out for defending it, you should simply lock it away and keep your head down."

Which, again, sure, except it's not like I'm entirely fucking braindead, I know that. That's how I've lived my whole life so far! But I don't care for the implication that I should also be locked away and keep my head down and hold my tongue, because, you know, like my sisters. I Am A Plant.

And this guy I was talking to, I'll call him Columbi, he also picks up pretty quick that this is fucked up and he's like. "People aren't possessions you can cage." Like a decent person, you know?

So Ox tells him that's a naive way of thinking.

Which pisses me 'n Columbi off. Obviously.

And she goes on to say, "It's simple to "lock away" a person. Downplay their capabilities, have them keep their heads down too. Strict rules about who they can and can't talk to, what they can or can't talk about. An open prison. Even if you don't lock them in a room by themselves, you can still keep them sheltered away from harm. The more open you are about their uniqueness, the more they become exposed, the more likely you are to draw unwanted attention. And if they're particularly important or special… you simply run the risk of losing them altogether, if you're not strong enough to protect them."

Which Columbi points out is abuse. Which I recognize pretty quickly as something Nai wanted to do to me to keep me safe, which wasn't what I wanted at all, because ultimately he and I both would ideally like to live without having to pretend that we're something we're not for our own safety, and I thought in a group chat full of people from other universes, I wouldn't have to worry so much about this shit.

I point out that it's real easy to be cruel and that I love (sarcasm) how she thinks the non-naive thing is to be an abusive shithead.

Ox says, "Of course. It's simplicity itself. But if you're powerless to take care of your most precious attachments, you scarcely have little other choice."

Which I disagree with. Of course. I think there are PLENTY of other choices that don't involve that kind of cruelty. And I snark that oh, I see, you're just as powerless yourself, aren't you?

And she goes, "You seem to believe I'm speaking from a place of experience. Which, you may have been right so many decades ago."

So what I get from this is that she's basically talkin' out her ass.

She goes on to say, "I'm quite proud of the strength I've cultivated. I simply cannot condone the actions of those who would brag about their unique abilities or their special treasures without the capability to back them up. Truthfully, your reaction may have been the right one. If you think you're simply too weak to protect your attachments, your possessions, you're simply better off keeping them to yourself and locking them away."

For the record, my reaction has nothing to do with whether I'm too weak to protect the people I care about or not. In my opinion, that's missing the point entirely, which is that I shouldn't fucking HAVE to. Which I guess makes me stupid, weak, and naive.

I'm also pretty sure that I could hand her ass to her, but again, not my point, and it's another thing I feel like I shouldn't have to prove to anyone. But I do tell her that if she gets close to me or anyone else that I care about, that I'll put her out of all of our miseries.

And this is when things start to, in my opinion, get worse.

To summarize at this point: random stranger tells me I'm stupid, weak, and naive for sharing information about myself and being uncomfortable with the response she gave me, after quite a few people pointed out that's just Not Something You Should Say To Someone.

Only three people - two of whom are friends of mine that I know in person, one of whom is a stranger - stand up for me and go this is fucked up. A fourth person is saying this is fucked up but I think she's missing the point but she's also a friend of mine and I guess right now she's okay.

I leave to try to cool off. It's not really that successful but whatever. Everyone just acts like this lady didn't just say some fucked up shit.

Two 'n a half hours later this other gal(?) named Roon says, "While we're all together like this, wouldn't it be best if we tried to get along?"

One of my friends asks how she suggests that to happen, given the circumstances.

Roon answers, "Hmm... I suppose I'm not the best person to ask about this. But it might work to establish some common ground, at least. That might be a little difficult in a space like this, but I'm sure it's possible."

Which I take to mean as, "I don't understand what the problem is, why don't you just be the bigger person and be understanding?"

Because like. How else am I supposed to interpret that.

And because I feel like no one is really understanding why I'm so damn upset, I try to spell it out, and I explain, "All I really wanted was to feel like I could be open about myself and try to make connections with people, only to be in no uncertain terms that I am weak, stupid, and naive for doing so. Right now it feels like my options are to either leave, or to stay and say nothing and lie and lie and lie and say nothing of any real substance and pretend that's fine with me. Given my options, I'd rather tell y'all that it's been real, and that I'm going to spend my time with people I know give a shit about me and don't want me to hide everything about myself. I shouldn't have to fucking prove a goddamn thing to be worthy of the luxury of comfort. Because at the moment, I don't particularly want to be open and establish common ground when it'll be seen as stupid and naive."

Roon says, "I can't stop you from doing that instead, and neither should I. I just wanted to float a second opinion~"

Which. Again. Kind of pisses me off because again, the way I'm reading this, I feel kind of like she thinks I'm overreacting, and that I should just accept the way I've been spoken to by someone who is a stranger to me, who expressed some interest in studying/experimenting on my sisters and by proxy me.

Three hours later, Ox comes back, and instead of even just apologizing insincerely to me, she says, "Apologizing doesn't undo the fact that it's been said, nor do I mean to act like I didn't mean it. If you're strong enough to protect the things and people you care about, by all means. But backing down the second someone makes a comment about it implies to me that you're uncertain if you could. Of course, I even think you're being defensive about it for naught. You are but lines of words upon this relic's slab. I can't even guarantee you're real, or if you're just a fabrication by the relic to amuse me."

The fact that she doubled down on all of her bullshit was the final straw for me, especially with being told that I should try to find common ground and "just get along", so I decide that I've had enough of all this shit, that I don't have to deal with this and that I'm under no obligation whatsoever to prove myself, and I have no interest in trying to convince someone who isn't even sure I'm a real person to give me basic decency, so I left the group chat pretty much immediately after that.

And now everything just really fuckin' hurts emotionally and it's intense enough that it's affecting me physically in a lot of ways and while I could have been kinder and more polite in the beginning, I really do not think that would have improved anything, and I still am under the opinion that I did nothing wrong and definitely did nothing to warrant being treated like that, and finding that a lot of people I considered close friends didn't even want to say anything! Fucking sucked!

I know I shouldn't really be surprised, but I am, because I thought things could be different. Better. And... well. Guess things weren't as good as I thought they were.

So. Super cool. Loved that.