#i had to block them on everything and i still feel unsafe

[masculinity-is-open-source]

my favourite thing about tumblr is that it's not a community you really build based on people you know irl. I'm not meeting people and I'm like oh what's your tumblr, let's be mutuals

I know like 4 people irl that I follow on tumblr. 2 cool friends, my partner and my sister. no irl discourse is brought here. I'm free to be myself knowing that the people who see my posts are those who truly care and it's not just another platform I have to make sure I'm blocking that recently cut off friend so that they can't contact me anymore.

[bluestar22x]

Boo!

Summary: You buy a mansion on the cheap having no idea it's haunted by the previous owner's friend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (mature readers only)

Word Count: 5,900(ish)

Warnings: "Enemies" to lovers vibes (they annoy each other at first), recreational drug use mentioned, medical stuff, subtitle mentions of sex/yearning, ghost Dieter follows you around the house but isn't a total creep about it - he's just really bored and invisible, AU?, foul language, fluff

Author’s Note: This was created for Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge by @mermaidgirl30 - I already had the idea of writing ghost Dieter before this challenge, so I thought it was the perfect time to write it up. The theme I chose is "haunted mansion" for obvious reasons. I was slightly inspired by a movie some may or may not know.

xxx

You had bought the mansion on the cheap - hardly a million dollars despite the huge, modern layout.

Just outside of New Orleans, the mansion was only one of three you owned as an unusually successful author. One of the few that had gotten rich off of making a crime novel series that had later become a successful drama show that was still running after five years - a true feat in modern entertainment.

Your other two mansions were in Los Angeles and Denver, the first being your main home when working and the second being a winter holiday escape, a place where you could go and experience what winter was supposed to be like. You had grown up in Maine, and it hadn't taken you long after moving to Los Angeles to miss the changing of the seasons, even if you didn't quite miss the often dreary weather.

This mansion in Louisiana was supposed to be another escape, one close to a city with rich history and lore. Spooky lore, that was. You were thinking about writing a vampire series - what better place to inspire you than New Orleans?

Though you'd moved there specifically for the stories of monsters in the dark, you avoided the creepy mansions listed on the realtor sites like a plague. Just cause you were interested in writing it, didn't mean you wanted to live a horror-themed novel.

Your mansion was boring compared to the centuries old mansions and plantations nearby and far from any swampland. It was also only ten years old - a baby mansion that had little chance of having been able to attract attention from any supernatural beings.

Not that you really believed in them, but you were the type not to press your luck. Every time you had in the past, you'd paid for it.

However, the universe had to have been against you, as it often was, because after only one week in your new vacation home strange things started happening.

It began with misplaced items, something easy to dismiss when you were still unpacking and organizing the place. You'd set down a mug of coffee on the countertop and find it on the bar later on or, to your dismay, the living room end table without a drink coaster underneath it. You'd throw a fresh shirt on the bed and enter the bathroom to take a shower and find the shirt on the floor when you returned. You'd place the manuscripts on your desk in a neat pile and find them disorganized the next morning. Things like that.

Then after a month more concerning things started happening. You'd lock a door and find it unlocked minutes later. You'd hear heavy footsteps on the second floor when you were in the kitchen or living room downstairs and you knew no one else was in the house. You'd see doors creak open on their own when they hadn't done that before.

Suddenly the cream colored modern mansion felt unsafe despite the high tech alarm system being in full working order and having never gone off.

You took to listening to music almost constantly, attempting to block out the feeling of unease you felt when everything was quiet. What you thought was your irrational side screamed at you to leave, to sell the place and go hang out at your Denver mansion or return to your main home, but your stubborn, so called rational side balked at the idea. You didn't want to admit defeat against a haunting you were pretty sure was all in your head or had explanations that were not of the supernatural kind.

Then one morning, the day before Halloween, you wandered downstairs to find a strange man sitting at your bar, dressed in ripped blue jeans, a dark tan oxford shirt, and a pair of tan slip on sneakers. You also had time to note that he had a graying patchy beard, sunglasses, and a single gold loop earring attached to his left ear before the fear set in and you screamed.

There was a complete stranger in your house! An interloper! Whatever his reason for being in your kitchen was, it had to be no good.

"Holy shit, you're loud!" he snapped, jumping in his seat. "Why are you freaking out so early in the morning?"

He turned to face you and his jaw dropped when he realized you were starring directly at him. "Wait, can you fucking see me?"

"Of course I can fucking see you," you spat. "You're in the middle of my kitchen, seated at my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the police!"

The man rubbed at his temple, his head pounding, which was really unfair, he thought, considering his situation. "Lady, if I could, I would, you are the saddest company I've ever kept, but unfortunately I have no say in the matter. I was here before you and I can't leave. Believe me, I've tried."

"Clearly you haven't tried enough," you hissed, pointing an index finger at the front door. "Try again."

He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, though you couldn't see the latter action behind his shades. "Fine, if you insist."

He pushed himself away from the bar, sliding off the stool he'd been seated on, and headed for the door. He opened it and glanced back at you, finding that you'd trailed him with a glass vase in your hand.

At least you were a resourceful recluse.

He braced himself for the sensation of being catapulted back into the mansion and sure enough, as soon as he stepped through the threshold he felt whatever force that was keeping him inside push him back.

He landed on the tile floor several feet away from the door in the mess of his long limbs. "Oof."

"What the fuck?!" He heard you yelp and he groaned.

"Told you."

"What the hell was that?"

He stood up slowly and massaged his lower back. "That was what's keeping me from leaving, sunshine. Now that you've seen why I can't go, I'll let you guess how this situation began."

"A voodoo priest cursed you to eternity in here?" you guessed, purposely trying to come up with what you thought would be a ridiculous answer. You still were trying to recover from what you'd just witnessed. People didn't just get thrown by invisible forces, yet there was no realistic explanation for what you'd just seen.

"I wish," the man huffed. "But it's not a curse. Not as far as I'm aware. Well, maybe. Maybe some god thought it would be funny. But I'm pretty damn sure it wasn't a person who did this. I don't remember much, but the last thing I do remember before this was partying with a friend, breaking my one year drug sobriety with a dose of some pretty fine cocaine, and then waking up splayed out in the middle of the living room - a very empty living room. By the time I worked through my denial over what had happened to me, you had moved in."

"You overdosed?" you questioned, breath catching because that would mean...

"Yeah, that's what I figured," he replied. "I'm not one hundred percent sure about it. Usually I was always careful about that. But it's not like I hadn't overdosed before." He put his hand out - "Long story." - And sighed heavily. "All I know is I'm dead."

You covered your mouth in shock as you pieced it all together. "You are the one that was moving things, making noises. Did you do that on purpose?"

"What? To scare you?" He looked amused. "I wish I was that clever. Maybe I'd have better company by now. But that was just me trying to keep my sanity. You don't know how maddening it is to wander around a boring mansion all day unable to interact with anything, not even a damn spoon. I'm not good with isolation. Glad the practice paid off."

You walked into the living room and collapsed into your leather couch. "This can't be happening."

He took off his sunglasses as he followed you in and you met his dark but surprising soft eyes for a moment. "What's your name, anyways?"

He placed a hand over his chest and acted shocked, a little stung by your lack of familiarity with him. You could tell he was just being dramatic and didn't really care. "You don't know? Hint: I was an actor who was having a great Hollywood comeback when I died."

Your mind was blank. You didn't know a lot of actors by name, or by face for that matter. You didn't watch a lot of TV and movies, your preferred entertainment being reading. Your office walls were covered by filled bookshelves.

You shrugged at him.

"Dieter Bravo," he told you. "My name is Dieter Bravo. Almost everyone I know calls me Dee though."

"Do I know you now?" you inquired.

"Hardly," he snorted. "But I know you enough, unfortunately, no offense."

You rolled your eyes at him, annoyed. "You can't insult me then claim no offense. I'm gonna take offense. Especially since we've never even talked before now."

"Sorry," Dieter apologized half-heartedly. "I've just been going crazy and all you do is sit at your desk writing or read on the couch. And you seem to prefer it that way."

"Introverts do, yes," you said. "But I can be fun when I want to be. I'm going on a tour of the city tomorrow."

You didn't mention that you were going alone. You hadn't made any friends in the city yet. That always took you a while. Something that most actors probably had little trouble doing. People begged for their friendship or more, didn't they?

"Is it one of those ghost tours?" he asked. "Cause that would be ironic."

You held your tongue and kept your comment about him having used the word ironic wrongly to yourself. You were pretty sure that was something someone boring would point out. You weren't sure why you cared about what a dead addicted actor thought about you, but you did for some stupid reason. Probably because his untamed curly hair looked very tuggable and his jeans were tight in all the right places and you hadn't been laid since your last book tour. Handsome guys were your weakness. You weren't usually into jerks or addicts though. Losers, as far as you were concerned.

Instead, you let your mind wander to all those times you'd heard things moving around while you were undressed or in bed. "Please tell me you haven't been stalking me this entire time."

"Stalking is a strong word," he protested. "We're in the same house for hours on end. We have silently interacted, or rather been in the same room. And I might have been watching you, but only when you were dressed, cross my heart."

"That's comforting," you said sarcastically, but you believed him. No one with so much disdain towards your daily activities would have bothered to peep on you, would they? But he could be the type who didn't care if a girl had personality, as long as she had boobs, right?

You decided it was not worth the trouble thinking about. Not when you had no idea how to get him to move on, or at least get him out of your mansion.

"So, what unfinished business is keeping you here?" you inquired. "Last I heard that's the only way either of us is going to get some peace in the forseeable future."

"Ouch. Fair."

"Do you know?"

Dieter shook his head. "What unfinished business don't I have? My latest movie will never finish filming, my girlfriend broke up with me over the damn phone on my way here, I have no idea if Perry overdosed too or if he's still alive, and my family all hate me."

"Surely not," you said. "They just didn't know how to help you with your addictions anymore."

Dieter blinked at you. "I thought you didn't know anything about me?"

"I don't," you replied. "But I've had a couple relatives, not close ones, but still, they got addicted to painkillers and they wouldn't let the family help them, so my family got angry at them and gave up trying. You can't help those who don't want to be saved is how my mother put it."

"What if they wanted to be saved but didn't know how to accept help?"

The vulnerable question, seemingly uncharacteristic, threw you off. You stared at him and Dieter glanced away. "Just asking," he muttered.

"I don't know," you told him honestly. "Same applies. It can't be one sided. They would've had to find a way to accept it. But they didn't. And they've been buried six feet under for five years now."

Dieter nodded.

"I don't think I could help you with your family issues," you continued on. "But I can tell you Perry is alive, if he is the same Perry who owned this place as I assume. He sold me the mansion three months ago, a month before I moved in."

"That's good," he said, scratching at his neck. "I knew from your calendar and your phone that it has been six months since I died, but I didn't know if he was still alive. I can't remember him ever coming back. Maybe he did and I just wasn't...aware at the moment. Time is different now for me. And I think ghosts actually sleep too. Kinda."

"The realtor showed me this place," you told him. "Perry only showed up to finalize the paperwork at her office. Maybe it was too painful for him to come back?"

Dieter pursed his lips. "Maybe."

"Did that help?" you asked hopefully. "See any doors or light to go into?"

He barked out a laugh. "If only! But there's nothing. Guess we're not getting rid of each other that easily." There was a gleam in his eyes that suggested he wasn't as annoyed about it as he was before. It was actually playful.

"Too bad," you stated, smirking.

He chuckled. "At least we can talk now."

"That we can, so long as you promise not to keep watching me like an invisible creep while I sleep," you said.

"I do not."

"I've felt it," you hissed.

"It's hard to look away," he admitted. "You do know you drool, right?"

"Shut up."

x

After your first run in with Dieter you didn't see him for a few days, and you wondered if he'd finally moved on, but of course, no such luck.

You choked on dinner when he popped up next to you at the dining room table on the fourth day.

"Sorry, didn't mean to almost kill you," he said humorously, patting your back.

You felt nothing when he did it. Maybe a cold breeze, but nothing really notable.

"Where've you been?" you inquired once you'd recovered.

"No idea," Dieter answered. "I think showing myself to you all afternoon zapped all my 'spirit' energy. What day is it?"

"November three."

"Damn. Oh well."

"You going to use your newfound 'spirit energy' to find a way to move on?"

He pouted. "Said like I wasn't trying to do that before. And jeez, in a rush, are we?"

You huffed. Like he'd given you a reason not to want it fast. It would be way better for you both once he found peace.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course I am!" he shouted before pointing a finger at you. "But I'm not leaving before I give you this advice: don't wear jeans on the night of your death. You may think they're comfy, but they're not. Not after weeks, months in them. I miss my pajamas. My robe."

He sighed wistfully and you couldn't help but chuckle at him. "Alright, advice taken."

He whirled and phased back into invisibility, leaving you alone until the next morning, when he nearly made you choke on your breakfast.

x

Days turned into weeks like this, with Dieter spending minimal time with you as he made attempts to figure out what he needed to do to be free of the mansion, as he tried to make peace with the things that haunted him in hopes that resolving his unfinished business would open the beyond up to him, but slowly, the more hope he lost, the more time he spent with you.

It started with meals, watching you eat and participating in discourse that became less and less hesitant and hostile over time, turning into shockingly friendly debates and banter.

It turned out Dieter wasn't so bad to be around and he wasn't the loser you'd thought he was, or had been. One search of his wikipedia page and a few youtube videos had settled that for you. He had worked hard to gain his success, spending nearly a decade taking guest star role after guest star role, working in a bar when the roles and his money dried up. And when he did find a major role to catapult his career, he continued to take as many roles as he could.

He was known for partying hard on weekends, but he never showed up for work high.

He enjoyed comfy clothes on his time off, and especially loved wearing his light green robe, sometimes even going to his local coffee shop in it, but he cleaned up well for interviews and other important functions.

Dieter had a good reputation despite his addictions. It seemed like his fellow cast members always had nice things to say about him, even those who worked with him on the disastrous set of Cliff Beasts 6, which was apparently where he'd had his first overdose.

By Thanksgiving you were solid friends, and after you left for the holiday to visit your parents and home in LA, you returned with a souvenir for you both - a fridge magnet with a picture of the city buildings just beyond the Hollywood sign. You'd noticed Dieter seemed homesick and you sometimes felt it too. But you wouldn't leave New Orleans until Dieter figured out how to move on or until you were forced to. The magnet gave you a daily reminder of what it looked like.

As Christmas neared, Dieter began hanging out with you in the living room at night, watching whatever you were watching, which were mostly Christmas movies in December. He did it even when you watched Hallmark, though he'd roll his eyes and make sarcastic comments about the plot throughout those.

"They always fight and break up over an assumption," he rattled on more times than you could count. "Dumb ones at that. His jealous ex flaunts her a ring and says it is from him and the leading lady just bolts without asking him if it's true? And they said I needed therapy."

"You needed therapy."

"Well, not as bad as that bird."

Dieter couldn't leave the house to get you a Christmas gift, and you'd agreed you both would spend Christmas Eve, the night before your parents arrived to celebrate the holiday, just curled up on the couch together as usual, but that hadn't stopped him from giving you something anyway.

He'd thrown a box at you, unwrapped and told you to look inside and you'd found a beautiful charcoal drawing of you writing away at your desk inside. The sight of it made your breath catch.

"You did this yourself?" you questioned, stunned.

"Yeah," he replied. "It took a lot of energy out of me, but I got it done in a few days. I know we said no gifts, but I wanted to give you something anyway. You know, since I can't pay rent."

He'd expected you to laugh at the comment but you were too busy studying the image. He'd gotten every detail, right down to your blemishes. He'd put a lot of care into drawing you. It felt...reverent.

When you tilted your head up to look at him, you did it differently. You saw him in a new light. And though he was in the same jeans and shirt as he always was, you thought he looked particularly handsome in that moment, chocolate eyes hopeful.

"So, do you like it?" he asked nervously.

"I love it," you assured him. "But I...didn't get anything for you."

"It's okay," he said, "Free rent."

"You are the least messy roommate I've ever had," you told him. "But you've got to stop sneaking up on me and making the rooms cold."

"The temperature is out of my hands," Dieter said, shrugging. "Unless you want me to turn up the thermostat. I've mastered turning dials."

You smiled. "I'm good tonight."

x

You should've known better than to get drunk alone on New Year's Eve, but you did.

No, you weren't alone, alone, but you were the only one drinking since Dieter was not physically able to drink. And he should've been the last person you'd hang out with drunk.

Being drunk made you silly, made you excitable, and it also made you bold.

One minute you and Dieter were laughing loudly, and the next you were leaning towards him. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure. Anything."

You leaned in closer and lowered your voice, "It really sucks you are dead, Dee. It sucks because I really wish we could kiss right now."

Dieter stared at you, dumbfounded, but the shock quickly turned into glee. "We could still, you know."

"You've gotten good at making yourself more solid," you said, "But I can't feel you whenever you touch me, Dee. I don't notice it unless I see you doing it. That's the only way I know. By sight."

"Well, you've never focused on it before, have you?" he inquired. "It always takes me a lot of focus to hold anything, even a pen, for long, but I do."

"It may not seem that way, me being a writer, but I'm terrible at focusing," you admitted.

Dieter brushed your cheek compulsively and you smiled weakly at him.

"Can we try something out?" he asked.

"What'd you have in mind?"

He nodded at the couch. "Turn off the lights and lay down on your back and close your eyes."

You raised your eyebrows questioningly, and he flashed you a reassuring smile. "Trust me."

You did as ordered and Dieter took a moment to take your prone form in, peering through the darkness, and he noticed how your fingers were twitching due to your inability to ever keep perfectly still.

He couldn't believe he was finally going to kiss you. Two months ago he wouldn't have wanted to. He'd had bigger concerns, and you weren't his usual type.

But with time and forced proximity he'd grown to enjoy your company. You were smart, generous, surprisingly witty, and he'd always found you pretty.

He doubted he deserved you, he was certain you were better than him, but you wanted him to kiss you, and lately he'd wanted that too. He couldn't deny you.

He approached the couch and sat down next to you, leaning over you so his face hovered above yours.

"Try to clear your mind."

You nodded and did as told, doing your best to keep all thoughts at bay while your heart thudded in anticipation against your rib cage.

Then you felt his lips on yours. They weren't warm or cold, soft or chapped, and they didn't taste like anything, but you could feel the pressure of them. You could feel when he moved his lips, when he deepened the kiss, when his hand reached out to cradle your face.

You reached up for him automatically, your eyes still shut, and you could feel his strong neck under your hands, could feel the tips of his curls at the base of it.

There was something electric about the moment, and you moaned softly as you let the sensation consume you. The more you got lost in it, the more kissing Dieter felt real.

It was sobering.

You gently pushed him away and opened your eyes to find him gazing back into yours, a confused look on his face. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head as tears flooded your eyes. "I can't, Dee. I can't do this with you. You're dead."

"Pretty sure we just did," he said, wiggling his brows suggestively. "And if we can do that, imagine what else we might be able to do with time."

"I can't," you repeated. "Someday you will move on and I'll be alone again."

"I'll wait to move on only after you die," he declared. "Problem solved."

You shook your head again, harder. "That's unfair for us both and you know it. I don't want to spend my life keeping you a secret, and you don't want to stay cooped up in this house for another four or more decades. You'll go mad."

"Not with you here," he swore, his hand gliding down to squeeze your upper arm.

"I can't take that chance," you said, standing up. "I'm sorry."

You began to walk away, but in the archway to the hall you turned to face him again.

"You should keep looking for your way out," you told him. "Make it your priority again. Cause next week I'm headed back to LA. I've got a book that's going to hit shelves in three weeks and my editor wants to plan some last minute fan meet ups for when it does. I can't stay here while we're doing that."

You tried to avoid looking at Dieter's face but you still got a glimpse of the hurt on it.

He was so upset he didn't say anything to you back, and you told yourself silently that it was easier that way.

You climbed the stairs, quickly curled up in bed under your sheets, and tried to think about anything but him until you fell asleep.

You had no idea that when you woke up in the morning, he'd be gone.

x

Steady beeping was the first thing Dieter registered when he gained consciousness in the hospital, but it was far from the least pleasant thing about the experience. That had gone to the bright lights briefly, then to the uncomfortable feeling of his feeding tube that was pulled through one of his nostrils.

Dieter would never call waking up from his coma fun. It had been confusing and exhausting (he thought that was ironic) and he’d been sore from not moving for a long time, but at least that discomfort felt short compared to what came after.

He'd been in a coma for nearly a year and that had taken a toll on his body, along with the seizure that had caused him to go into it in the first place, a side effect of his long term use of hard drugs.

He had most of his mind right from the start, but his body was weak and had loss some of the connections he'd made as a child to do simple functions like walking and eating with a fork. Frustratingly, he'd had to learn it all back again.

His only solstice was that his parents were there every step of the way. They'd had him transferred to LA after he woke up and had regularly visited him in the hospital and Dieter kinda wished he'd heard them while he was taking his long sleep. What had they said to him?

Probably what they'd been saying since. His parents rarely missed a chance to tell him they loved him, that they regretted letting his addictions come between them.

"It was my fault," he'd told them, but they'd shaken their heads.

"We didn't go about finding you help like we should've. We gave up too fast."

Dieter didn't care about that though. He was just grateful to have them back in his life. To still have a life at all.

He didn't remember the fateful night that had led to his coma, but he was able to video chat with Perry on his laptop and his friend filled in the blanks.

They'd gotten together and Perry had given him all the cocaine he could ask for. They'd gotten comfortable on the couch and rode out their highs talking about the trouble they used to get into in high school. Then he had began seizing sometime after midnight and Perry had dialed 911.

Even with the fill in, Dieter felt he was missing something. Something important. But any time he tried to recall his night with Perry, he got nothing.

He had dreams though, often several times a week, of him patrolling Perry's mansion alone, of an attractive woman chatting away with him at the dining room table, of him kissing her in the shadows of the night, and those felt like the missing pieces, lost memories, but they couldn't be. He couldn't have been a ghost while he was in the coma, he reasoned.

But all the reasoning in the world wouldn't allow him to shake it off. Eventually he caved and asked Perry, who was visiting him after getting out of rehab, to describe the woman who had bought the mansion from him.

When he gave every detail he could think of, Dieter was flabbergasted.

The woman Perry had detailed sounded exactly like the woman in his dreams...

But it couldn't be, could it?

He decided there was only one way to find out.

As soon as he was back to full strength, he'd fly out to New Orleans and knock on your door.

He'd find out once and for all if any of it had been real.

x

He didn't mean to go to New Orleans on Halloween, but that's how it ended up - with him on an early flight to one of the spookiest cities in the world on the arguably spookiest day of the year.

He took a taxi to get to your house and hesitantly made his way to the front door.

How should he go about telling you he had dreams about you? To ask if you knew him when he was in his coma and was a ghost? What if it had really all been in his head?

There were several carved orange pumpkins on the front porch - jack o' lanterns - something he didn't remember you having last year, and they immediately sent him into a spiral of deep uncertainty.

She can't be her, he thought. She didn't decorate for Halloween last year.

It was kind of ridiculous to assume that just because you hadn't had Halloween decorations one year you wouldn't have them the next, but that was how much he was doubting himself.

He took a moment to beat down his nerves on your doorstep, shake it off, then knocked, not knowing if you'd hear it or if you were even on the same side of the house. Not knowing if you were home at all.

You were both shocked when you opened the door and found yourselves staring at each other.

How could it be? You'd assumed Dieter had moved on well over half a year ago, and yet there he was before you, looking very much alive and in a fresh pair of black jeans and an olive green button down shirt that was basically his tan shirt's twin.

"Holy shit, I didn't think you were actually real!" Dieter exclaimed.

"Are you?" you inquired. "Last I knew you were dead. What the fuck?"

He guffawed and you marveled at the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, at how they shined with life. His hair was more gray than you remembered, but it only added to how alive he looked.

"It turns out I wasn't actually dead," he explained. "I was in a coma. I woke up in a hospital bed back in January and found out I'd been unconscious for several months. I didn't overdose, but I'd had seizures from the cocaine I took. I had no idea that could be a side effect. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived, let alone had a full recovery."

You stepped outside with him. "And you've stayed clean?"

He huffed. "Of fuckin' course. I'm not a complete idiot. I'm not going through that shit again. Physical therapy was a bigger pain in my ass than any of the cravings could ever be."

You laughed briefly before your expression turned serious again. "That's good."

"I wanted to see you sooner," he told you, scratching at his cheek over the beard he still had, though it was more neatly trimmed than it had been the last time you'd seen him. "But I wanted to be fully recovered before I flew back out here, and for part of that time I didn't remember being here. Not even the night me and Perry hung out in the living room."

You folded your arms, nodded, and pursed your lips. "So how much do you remember now?"

You tried to keep your expectations low but there was a knife stabbing at your heart when you realized that he might not be able to recall much of you at all. Did he even remember your kiss?

Dieter smiled. "I remember us not getting off on the right foot, and maybe scaring you on purpose a few times."

You gaped at him. "I KNEW it!"

He grinned slyly and continued, "I remember how we used to talk a lot, and how that would drain my energy right out, but I'd always linger a little too long, until I had no choice but to slip into the darkness to rest for a while. I remember loving your sarcastic sense of humor and the way you lose your breath when you laugh too hard. And I...remember that night, when we kissed."

That had been something else. Unexpectedly titillating. It was by far the sharpest memory he had of that time he'd spent between worlds.

"I don't know if you remember it, but I regretted every day since that I said what I said that night," you told him, chewing your lip.

He nodded. "I remember. But you weren't wrong. You deserve to be with someone breathing, and I was really getting sick of being stuck in the house."

You chuckled but the sound was cut short when you felt him palm your cheek.

He was sooo warm. Real.

Your stomach fluttered when your eyes met.

"I thought I'd never get to say goodbye," you whispered. "All I wanted after I woke up to an empty house was to get that chance. But this, this is so much better."

"I missed you," Dieter admitted, drawing closer to you.

You beamed at him and he felt his chest warm.

"I missed you too."

He pulled you into a kiss, far more passionate than the first you'd shared, and you gripped onto his elbows tightly, fiercely clinging to him, almost afraid to let go.

When you eventually did, you smirked at him. "You're a day late for our anniversary, you know."

"First meetings do not count," he claimed.

"Oh yes they do," you countered.

"Well, excuse me for fuckin' forgetting to fly out yesterday. Pretty sure I still have some brain damage."

You huffed playfully. "Excuses."

Dieter shook his head at you fondly and kissed you again.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[russellsppttemplates]

Girl where is Finn and Julia I missed them 🥹

Note: they're up to mischief! 👀

"What are you two up to?", you asked, looking around the playroom and seeing Finn and and Julia looking back up at you. It was insane how much the two toddlers looked like their father - they were two Max clones you had brought to the world.

Julia gave you a cheeky smile before looking at Finn, "be good, alright? We just tidied this room so Luka and Lio can come and play as you have space to actually play", you chuckled and left the room to make sure the cookies you were baking weren't burning.

Julia and Max exchanged a look and giggled, returning to the building blocks they were playing with.

"I'm bored", Julia whined, dropping the construction she was working on and looking at her brother. Finn seemed to agree wirh his sister, looking around at something else they could play with or do that wouldn't get the room all turned around and upside down.

"We could play outside?", Finn suggested, making Julia nod excitedly.

They both walked to the living room slowly, opening the floor to ceiling window as quietly as they could so they wouldn't be caught, "we have to be quiet, Julia, or else mama will notice", Finn whispered, smiling widely when the coast was clear and they had all access to the garden.

Julia was the first to step onto the grass, squealing when her fluffy slippers got wet, Finn giggling as he looked around at everything that was wet from the rain earlier in the morning. The spring weather was still undecided whether or not it wanted to come in full force so you often had rainy mornings despite the rest of the day being warm and sunny.

A puddle on the grass caught their attention as Julia ran to it, landing on it after a big jump and splashing it around, "it feels funny, Finn!", she added, pointing to the patch of mud under her feet.

Finn's eyes lit up before reconsidering it, "we'll get wet and dirty", he said as he let if foot tap the muddy puddle, "but it does feel funny", he smiled as he jumped with his sister.

It was all fun until their auntie Victoria and their cousins stepped inside from the driveway, following the noise since they assumed you were all outside.

"Uh-oh", Julia said as Victoria looked at them with her hands on her hips, "your mama has no idea you're here, right? Did you two sneak off? You know it's not nice", she half scolded, knowing they wouldn't get into too much trouble or so anything unsafe as the pool had a fence around it and there wasn't much where they could get seriously hurt on.

When Luka pulled you to follow him to the garden, you definitely didn't expect to see your children in muddy clothes, "what have you two done?", you shook your head, "you can't leave like that, okay? No more of that please!", you asked.

"We know, mama", Julia said event though she had loved every minute of it as the smile on her face let you know that much.

They were safe and clothes could be washed, "C'mon, in you go - through the kitchen and into the laundry room so I can put those into the washer straight away and wipe the floor right away", you guided them, taking a quick photo to send Max.

[katyspersonal]

*has another bad memory activated after a chat* I remember at the beginning of me joining the BB fandom, in summer 2021, I had the worst luck ever of attracting a person over discussing Izzy with now deactivated user, who instantly jumped at me with so much warmth, interest, questions, engagement and trust that by that time not even my friends were so affectionate

We exchanged Discords and chatted for a week or two, and I was feeling so, so, SO safe. It's been after a what, three years period of emotional abuse from every corner, loneliness, depression and meds? It felt like a final healing ray of warm sunshine after the longest and coldest night. She (at least it was her pronouns back then, dunno if it changed by now or not) wished me good night and good morning and was so genuinely invested in talking to me, I thought I've found a new friend.

......then, one morning, I messaged her a headcanon I thought she'd like, but saw that she blocked me on Discord. And Tumblr. I did not know why, so I asked a shared mutual to ask her what happened on my behalf. But while waiting for that mutual, the pain grew so severe that I no longer wanted to know. I simply made a throwaway account on Tumblr to tell her in her face how much it hurt and that she should not lure people with fake sense of trust and warmth if she is ready to just backstab them like this. And what did she do? Well, she posted a rant about me in her blog, namedropping me so people could "stay safe", pretending like I've done sone irreparable harassment to her when I just told her to not act like a friend and then bail without explanation, and worse: she revealed that all along, she was reading some twisted emotional manipulation in my messages when I was just being socially awkward, and instead of addressing her problems with me in MY face, she was showing my messages to her friends to discuss with them how """manipulative""" I was and took their advice to block me and run. 🤦‍♂️

Needless to mention that as soon as Eugene started a crusade number 2 against me, she instantly joined her on this one like "heeeey guys I am a victim of this horrible abusive monster too, she MANIPULATED me and HARASSED me when I tried to get away!!!!" 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️

Ever since she blocked me after acting very affectionate and friendly in every way possible, I've had nightmares about her for half a year and I still, to this day, feel scared every time I hit a good conversation with someone in the fandom. I always get paranoid that they, too, might read nonexistent malice in my messages and discuss the level of my "harm" behind my back. After what she did I struggled to trust anyone in the fandom. But of course she acted like she was the victim who got harmed here. All because she could not address her suspicions of me in my face and because I told her "don't fucking cultivate strong trust only to break it"!

Fuck you, Spade, you deserve my hatred even after all this time, and I'll hate you until I stopped second-guessing everyone I chat with. Which is still a problem I have. I hate people who throw words of affection and warmth around like they mean nothing and then act all weirded out when people they got to trust them, big shock, started to TRUST them! "We weren't even friends we only talked for like two weeks!!!! 🥺" then why you did literally everything to act like a friend to me? And I sure hate people who can't even say "Hey, this thing you say makes me feel unsafe like you want to get certain reaction from me, can you Not" instead of talking bad faith trash about me behind my back. I hope a moment of fame feeling like a victim of terrible abuse was worth it, huh? God, you should become friends with Anna, you two are horribly similar.

[clockworkspider]

I feel like the Minor DNI phenomenon and increasing tension between minor and adults in fandom is really um... It really feel like it's taking away the ambiguous space in which teens could safely explore their sexuality. And although I totally understand the reason it got this way I just feel really bad for the kids nowadays, you know?

Like... the weird thing is the legal age of consent in US is 18, which means porn isn't suppose to be shown to kids under 18. Adults gotta protect themselves legally because if we show kids porn we can get into big trouble. But at the same time puberty hits from 11-14 and teens need a safe creative space to explore their sexuality, and like... as unsafe as porn online can be, it beats trying everything yourself with other kids.

In the past I knew adult members of the fandom still lock their NSFW art behind a "I am over the age of 14" button or a very impersonal "18+, minors do not read" disclaimer in front of explicit content. AO3 also have that for mature/explicit fics. But it's broadly understood by adult members of the fandom that kids are gonna see your porn and you're suppose to turn a blind eye to them just like people has done for you when you were 14 and wondered what gay sex is.

Like... we've always kinda had the same laws but the attitude was totally different back then. It wasn't the norm for adult fans to vocally forbid any minors from even following their blog or interacting with any of their post. It wasn't the norm to go through your list and block any minor. Nowadays there's like... an implicit expectation for transparency when it comes to age because adults act SO OFFENDED about minors following them. Which lead to a number of teens in adult space feeling pressured to disclose their age either out of some misplaced sense of guilt or in attempt to avoid confrontations. I've seen this more than once...

The other day I saw a nsfw post from someone who openly disclose they're a minor. Kid, I'm glad you're exploring your sexuality. I'm honestly so happy for you. Please don't tell us your age. Nobody needs to know, actually.

And like... I know this is all because we're in this social media surveillance state where anonymity is getting harder and rarer and everyone's one doxxing away from losing their job. I get it. I just think somewhere along the line we lost the precious space of ambiguity, of "yes I confirm i'm 18" and "if you're underage you didn't see this from me". And I think that's really unfortunate, actually.

[darlingillustrations]

I'm Gay

When I was eight years old, I wrote my first poem. I remember the moment the words came to me. I was lying in bed at night, the lines rattling through my brain, startling sleep away. I turned on my pencil-shaped bedside lamp, grabbed my pink diary and huddled up underneath the little roses on my wallpaper to scribble the words down before they were lost to me forever. I re-read them over and over, letting them seep into my mind as I drifted off to sleep, so full of mystery and fascination at this new craft that had opened up to me.

The next day, I showed the poem to my mother. It was a love poem, and the only thing she said was, “Why is this written to a woman?”

I didn’t know.

In high school, I also didn’t know why I enjoyed turning around in psychology class to chat with the girl with the cool beaded purse who sat behind me. I didn’t get it why I was so tongue tied around the girl in college with the mousy brown hair and soft floral skirts. After graduation, I still didn’t understand why the scrawny girl with facial piercing who I worked with at the coffeeshop held such a deep place in my heart that I’d give anything to make her smile.

The day I nervously confessed to my parents that I no longer wanted to be in the Church of Christ, the religion they’d raised me in, and that I’d been going to an Episcopal church, they laughed in relief.

“We were worried you were going to tell us you were a lesbian,” they said, wiping tears of joy from their eyes.

It never occurred to me that I could be a lesbian because I was attracted to guys. I didn’t realize that bisexuality was a thing. It wasn’t until 2016 that I started to face the truth about myself. After the attack on the Pulse nightclub, I felt deeply and inexplicably unsafe, and after months of soul searching, I came to realize it was because the people who had been attacked, the LGBT men and women, I was part of their community. They were me. I was LGBT.

As part of my journey, I was asked to exhibit my art at the Pierce County AIDS Foundation. I wanted to share something that was representative of the LGBT community, and that’s how my Affectionate Animal series was born. I chose vintage photos as my source images because I loved the nostalgic feeling they evoked. I wanted to offer the feeling that being gay was a normal thing.

The funny thing is: when I painted these first nine couples, I didn’t yet realize my own truth.

Coming out to myself was about self acceptance. When I told Matt, he asked me what this meant for our marriage. I said it meant nothing: instead of choosing him over half the world population, it meant I chose him over all of the world population. But when Matt left me (for other reasons), some of my close friends whom I’d trusted with my secret blamed me for him leaving. “He’s been through a lot,” they said.

I was scared to tell anyone. For a long time I only told people who were gay, and I spent a lot of time online, on tumblr, living an invisible life, coming to terms with what my sexuality meant.

That’s where I met my first girlfriend. She flew cross country to visit me and I flew cross country to visit her. We fell in love with each other and each other’s kids, and I was going to fly out with the girls to spend Christmas with her, until she broke up with me suddenly and then blocked my phone number before ever explaining why everything was ending.

They say your first heartbreak after a divorce is the worst. When you get divorced, there’s too much other stuff in the way that inhibits the grieving process, so when your first heartbreak after divorce hits you, all that pent up grief rears its ugly head and devastates you. In short, that’s what happened to me. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept throwing up for weeks. I lashed out at people, then became disgusted with myself for acting like such a monster and fell into a pit of despair. My body felt like knives were stabbing me, raking my arms from the inside out. My chest felt cavernous. I felt beyond gutted. I felt like I was in tatters.

God bless my therapist, because she texted with me through the worst of it, assuring me that this is what grief felt like. I’d tell her I was scared of the depression. She said I was strong enough to weather a little depression. I took comfort in that. Deep down I knew she was right.

I started cleaning my house. It wasn’t much, but a little every day gave me a sense of normalcy. I signed up for the Motivated Moms checklist so that I wouldn’t have to think about what I was supposed to do. I could just do it.

On Friday, my checklist said to spend time on a craft or hobby. I spent more time scratching my head trying to figure out what I was interested in than I did playing my guitar once I finally remembered I liked to sing. On Sunday I was paralyzed by the suggestion to pamper myself. How does someone pamper themselves? I googled it and read dozens of suggestions before I felt inspired by the suggestion to give myself flowers.

I’d always thought that, when I was with my girlfriend for Valentine’s Day, we’d do some sappy romantic thing, and I’d post sappy pictures & let people draw whatever conclusions they wanted to about our relationship. Now that I’m single again, I guess I’m coming out of the closet anyways. I’m not doing it for another person. I’m doing it for myself. Because, at the end of the day, lovers come and go, but there is one person who will love me for my entire life, and that person is me. And it doesn’t take a parent or a husband or a girlfriend to validate my loveliness. I am loved. I am darling. And I am complete, just as I am.

I don’t know why God made me this way, but this is the way I am. I don’t fall in love with people because of what’s in their pants, but because of what’s in their heart. So, in closing, I’d like to share with you the poem I wrote when I was eight years old, long before I knew what the depths of my heartache might bring:

Beauty Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight, Your legs tremble fast, Your voice can sing the wonders, And your ears can hear me laugh, Your nose smells the flowers that I bring to you in prize, Your legs can run freely, And your hands can hold my thighs. But you’re the one in my mind, The wonders that I dream, For you are so beautiful, The wonders of my dreams.

I like to think that, maybe, the woman I’d written it for was, in fact, myself.

[ This essay first appeared on my blog on February 14, 2019, and it is how I came out publicly to my friends, family and the world. I want to repost it here to tumblr in the hopes that it might resonate with you. ]

[tragicallycrispygirl]

It's been a few days of Slayer.

Fuck this guy.

Genuinely.

I think it took everyone (myself included) a few days to realize the bullshit you can get away with with him but like.

Fuuuuuuuuck

Here's a character with very very little movement! But we gave him a 14f forward lunging punch that covers most of the screen and will usually trade positively. Also he can break the wall on counter-hit with said punch at a little closer than MIDSCREEN.

Oops! Did you end up in the corner because you were forced to respect the moves that WILL lead to a 200 HP punish if you get smacked with one, or you got smacked and he got full screen carry? Fuck you! You will have to fight with everything you have just to GET OUT, and if you fuck up ONCE you are going through the wall and losing 200hp. Don't try to jump either, It's Late has a hitbox that reaches into the stratosphere and leaves him about +100 on air block.

What's that? He has 50 meter? you lose. you just fucking lose. the Mappas that are supposed to end pressure? RC them. Did he hit you with a Mappa? RC that shit for a guaranteed wallbreak, and potentially a Pilebunker loop. Did you get him blocking? YELLOW ROMAN CANCEL ITS HIS TURN NOW AND HES +10. (I have general problems with YRC, but Slayer really highlights them for me) I'd be fine with the meter thing if he didn't build meter so fast, but FUCK ME it's like he has a generator hidden in his coat or something that increases the bar when you aren't looking.

Full screen whiff punish that leaves you point blank at advantage. Fuck. You. Also it has a sweet spot, which is hard to consistently route into and feels a LOT like just a random "oh shit I won the round on that wakeup super lol"

Last Horizon is kinda cool, but it exaggerates the problem of "oops I got touched oh shit I'm dead" because you can get it off of ANY FUCKING NON-P NORMAL.

Its so weird that he's like this, though. I put in like 100 hours on XRD Slayer, and Strive feels extremely similar. What HAPPENED? XRD Slayer didn't do this! He didn't shut everything down! He ran some nasty fucking mix, sure, but he had very defined weaknesses. And sure, XRD Slayer gets preposterous damage with meter on stray hits, I'm not going to argue that, but it really didn't seem to happen as much as it used to.

I think the biggest problem, really, is Pilebunker. Pilebunker was never really a combo tool in XRD, unless you had meter or got very specific hits. But now? You can confirm that shit off of anything! Like, literally almost any hit!

Masters. Fucking. Hammer. +26 on block. Safe on whiff. Hitbox like a Behemoth typhoon. Ambiguous cross-up. I don't even care that it has a long startup, GOOD LUCK ACTUALLY SMACKING SLAYER OUT OF THE AIR! HES IN THE FUCKING STRATOSPHERE!

To be a little calmer, I feel Slayer's biggest problem is that he forces the opponent to take huge risks for little reward, while himself not being at a lot of risk for high reward. If he were to stay in his current state, with all the damage and everything the same, I think that every tool in his arsenal should be unsafe on block. That's probably very harsh, but something needs to be done. At the VERY LEAST make all of his moves borderline unsafe, like -4 -5 or something idfk man he's ridiculous

It sucks. I was so so excited for him, so excited to get to do cool stuff with him, and the stuff he does is cool! But he's just, so, so strong. So fucking strong. I said a few days ago that he was "lower-mid top tier," but I was just clearly not thinking straight. Slayer is potentially the strongest character in the game. Sure, whatever, he has lackluster defense, but good luck actually getting him in the corner, WHERE HE CAN STILL GET A STRAY HIT FOR AT LEAST 150DMG AND ADVANTAGE.

I don't even know how you'd fix him, honestly. Half his damage numbers or some shit idfk man

[aphelion-alifer]

☽ welcome ☾

EDIT 12/3/24: CONSIDER HELPING ME OUT! https://www.tumblr.com/aphelion-alifer/768176073578086400/from-one-nonhuman-to-another-i-need-help?source=share

✩

hi, I'm aphelion alifer (he/they), and this is my blog! you can call me aphelion (pronounced "uh-FEE-lee-un"). my name means furthest from the sun (aphelion), or a winged creature existing in freedom in the distance (aphelion alifer). this isn't my real name, but it's what I want to be called by at least on this blog for privacy reasons.

✩

I'm an adult (19 years old) and have been around the nonhuman community for at least 10 years as of writing this. I support all kinds of nonhuman identities, experiences, and beings. my blog is directed towards any nonhuman looking for a safe space, specifically those who are physically nonhuman (shapeshifters, extra limb growers or wing growers/avians, etc), but anyone is welcome. I also consider myself to be spiritual, a reality shifter, furry, and witch, so I might reblog things other than nonhuman stuff. I mostly share posts relating to my experiences, thoughts, things I like, etc. on this blog, I prefer not to talk about my mental health struggles, but I might reblog posts related to mental health. this blog is SFW.

✩

physically I am an avian and have had a very strong calling to the sky since I was a child, which is how I knew that I am physically meant to have wings. this is an experience that is very deep and personal to me. aside from being an avian, I also tend to have canine/werewolf-like instincts and mental shifts occasionally, and spiritually I am some kind of horned black kite that resembles maleficent's phoenix form. I am still figuring myself out, and this may change, except for my calling to the sky and general connection to winged beings/wings in general. my calling is permanent and lifelong. also, I believe that my soul originates from a different planet in a different universe and that this may be one of my first times on earth in a physical body, but I'm not sure where I come from or if this is 100% true. I'm still discovering myself just like everyone else!

✩

I'm the author of "Nonhumanity: A history", a document that is a timeline of the nonhuman community and also serves as an archive for older articles and websites. it can be found here: Aphelion Alifer - 2024 (google.com)

✩

I believe in good energy and keeping bad vibes out, and I'm not here for discourse or fights! anything anti therian/otherkin/alterhuman and nonhuman will be blocked. adding on, I do believe in DNI's and respecting them, and I should have one, but I just freely block, ignore or report anyone who makes me feel unsafe or uncomfortable without making it a big deal (things like radqueers, trump supporters/right wing folks, anti furry, anything paraphilia related, or individuals that are hateful or generally rude to me or try to cause issues, as well as other topics that I didn't bring up will be blocked, ignored or reported!)

✩

thanks for taking the time to read this and check out my little corner of the web, I look forward to being on this journey with like-minded individuals!

✩

dividers by: https://www.tumblr.com/saradika/729485214970216448/hi-im-just-a-big-fan-of-your-blog-everything?source=share

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

im so sorry to send you this but im confused. i thought izzy hands was obviously homophobic while i was watching the show but now people on the internet are telling me that calling him gay and homophobic is a conspiracy theory. i want to trust my instincts on this as a queer myself but they say it so much i think im starting to believe it. i know literally none of this matters but its genuinely bumming me out. maybe we all just have slightly different definitions of homophobia?

I would love to answer this for you. Your instincts are correct. Izzy is gay and homophobic. You should trust your gut on this because it's important for you be able to identify guys like Izzy irl if you're someone who might be on the receiving end of homophobia.

What happened is that back in June of 2022 everyone fully agreed that Izzy was one of those repressed gay men who's internalized homophobia rotted his soul and became externalized. We wanted to put him in a jar. We all interested in how this weird little freak got this way. Then everything changed when the canyon formed. Since then it has been a mad dash to beat the allegations. Unfortunately an actor has validated them in a way that makes me really wonder about him frankly, because he seems to be operating under the impression that people are saying that Izzy is a "homo sex is sin" Style homophobe when nobody was saying that, what we were saying is that Izzy is incredibly weird about and hateful towards feminine men and he believes that Stede is corrupting Ed with his foppishness, which is still homophobia it's just a different brand of homophobia than the religious right's obsession with the mechanics.

Tbh tho I don't actually care about that actors' take because he's not a writer, he has a history of not being very good at reading the subtext given that he fully didn't realize it was a gay show for half the episodes, and David Jenkins has liked multiple metas on twt about Izzy being a homophobe so I'll trust that lol. The only consequence that Con O'Neill being publically wrong has had for me is that people occasionally do an unearned victory lap when he says something.

But also I low key sometimes feel incredibly unsafe knowing that there's a substantial group of people who claim to be queer and against homophobia but who can't understand that the whole subplot with Lucius in episode 5 and the thing with Ed in episode 10 is laced with bigotry against feminine gay men. I don't think admitting that means you have to think it's his only motivation or that it's contradictory to the read of him being attracted to Ed and Lucius or with the concept that he's mostly just power hungry, but it does sort of mean that I have to move through the world knowing that there are people in my own community who would fully blame me if something happened to me. I don't fucking like it. That's why I get so upset about this so publicly. It's like so what happens if I get attacked but the guy calls me a namby pamby or a bitch instead of a faggot. Are you gonna be like "well we don't know~". It's just an uncomfortable thought. I don't understand why they're so desperate to beat the allegations either, like he's fake. People who have experienced things like what Ed and Lucius went through at his hands are real. The argument that gay people can "do something to (someone)'s brain" is written into legislation trying to ban trans people from public life. Nobody wants you to stop liking Izzy we just want you to stop saying shit that's harmful

And I don't necessarily think that everyone who chooses to put more emphasis on Izzys obsession with Ed wouldn't be able to identify a hate crime, I just have seen more than one piece of meta that goes "Izzys not homophobic he just thinks Stede is a mincing fop who's corrupting Ed with his frilly whiles there's nothing homophobic about that" and I just have to block them for being homophobic themselves because what else do I do with that? When I vague post about this shit I'm talking about specific ass things that I've seen that have made me feel very uncomfortable and unsafe not generic canyon trends. I just really feel like we need to calm down about Izzy. Like you can feel empathy towards a gay guy that hates himself and write a bunch of fic about him getting laid without deciding actually he did nothing wrong and everyone who can see that that's not true is making shit up to oppress *checks notes* people who like a fictional character. I don't get why that's so hard to do.

[skywriterjade]

I can not state enough how this is not an official statement. This is simply me using my personal blog to mention some things that have bothered me for a while because I'm tired. I've had a ridiculously long year, and I'm tired. So let me set a few records straight.

To the person continuing their claims that Miraculous Fanworks is unsafe for neurodivergent people, why don't you ever mention that the "mistakes" you made were emotionally abusing at least two members? And attempted manipulation of at least one more? Hm? Why don't you ever mention that the "mistake" that occurred due to your neurodivergence (which you say you got a diagnosis for after the final ban, and still, as a former friend, I am genuinely very happy for you for that and hope it's helped you) was emotional manipulation that included (but was definitely not limited to) threatening to hurt yourself (bad enough that that friend saw fit to contact your family) if that last friend stopped talking to you? Hm? Why do you never mention these things?

The entire admin team is neurodivergent. The majority of our mods are neurodivergent. Do try again. And try better. You were given chances but the rules are there for a reason and that WAS explained to you. In detail. We've got the receipts.

I don't like talking about the event from last year because, it occurred during a time when the server was changing ownership and the chaos of that on top of the event was almost enough to set back all my work in therapy. And that's not a lie or exaggeration. The server changed hands, without much prep and we were in the middle of doing reforms when the incident happened. Is it an excuse? No. A ball was dropped and we're sorry about that. But at a time when everything was in chaos we were simply focused on keeping everything up until a new foundation could be made. That's all I'll say to that since I don't remember if an official statement was ever made off the server. On behalf of the mod team, I am sorry it got so far out of hand and if anyone was hurt during that event.

Now. To another. Yes, three of our 20-something mods are teenagers. Three of them, and they're in the lower ranks. Meaning they watch the general server and have no access to any adult areas. Two of them are unofficial mentees learning IT. None of them have to do more work than what a normal member would if they decided to help us watch the chats. I'm not sure what the exact issue was there, but there you go.

The "No blocking a mod" rule 1) isn't new, it's been there since forever, and 2) does not mean if multiple ppl have one mod blocked they have to unblock them. Frankly if that were the case we'd open a ticket on that mod and find out why. It means, if you don't like this person but they've never done anything to you, you can't have them blocked. Does it suck? Sure, but it's no different to other big servers we've been in. If someone harassed someone else, then we need to investigate. If there's no proof, are we meant to just take someone's word for it? On the internet? No. You have a claim. Supply your evidence, then we can proceed. That's basic effing common sense. It's basic sense.

I am tired. This Fandom has brought me to the brink and back again, and again, and AGAIN, and I am tired.

Anyone who knows me knows what my original feelings on the server were, but you know what I did? I took off my bias shades and built my own opinion of the place based on my experience and observations. And you know what I found? A fuck ton of ppl there sucked, but it was often just certain members and they usually left or got removed. The few others I might not have liked i could ignore. Was it a perfect place, no. And since stepping up I've worked with my team to try to make it better. It's worked but at the expense of the mental health of the admins. In being more relaxed, which we wished was a thing when we were normal members since it makes the server feel more like a community and less like a business, we opened ourselves up to this. And you know what? We'll take it. Gladly.

Because it means we built the home away from home we hoped for.

So, a recap:

To the first person, check yourself.

To the incident, yes, we messed up. Yes, we're sorry.

Why have we not said anything about any of these publicly? Between trying to protect members' privacy and not wanting an incident to occur because frankly, yall are traumatizing af, we decided to just leave it.🤷‍♀️ our members are comfortable, they have many means of telling us if they aren't and we have a peace at last. Why would we stir that nest when the ones who would have to deal with it are 5 ppl just trying to keep a community afloat and live their lives?

Why am we saying something now? WE aren't. I am. And I'M saying something because I'm upset. I had hoped that eventually, someone would do some introspection, and we could continue to have a nice community free of unnecessary lies. There's nothing I detest more in this world than liars and manipulators. NOTHING. I've lived through manipulation that turned to abuse. I'd be damned if I see it continued and not say something when I can.

Are we excusing how the server used to be and might have hurt ppl before? No. Some of our friends were those people. And we were sometimes hurt. But this is a new way it's running. Sure, some things are the same cuz it makes sense. But if yall focus on attributing server members of the past with the server as it is presently, hm🤷‍♀️ do you

Any other questions? By all means, ask. Respectfully, of course, I will answer like for like.

I hope everyone has a great day.

[the-sour-patch-crew]

Sorry I'm one of your followers and I gotta ask are you yourself radqueer? I've had very very bad experiences with them so id I were to say I wasn't safe for radqueers, I would.be moreso meaning of radqueers come around, my space is no longer safe for *me*

Just need to know if I need to unfollow,, thank you

Kit here, and im going to answer this as if it was directed only at me. Ashe feels similarly, and the other two have zero idea what any of this means.

I don't think I am? Most radqueers in system spaces I see paired with transID stuff, which I am VERY uncomfortable with. I don't go in radqueer spaces and I don't know enough about them to even begin to know if I'd classify as one or could relate to it in any meaningful way. I block transID and radqueer accounts (because they are paired together so often) when they show up in tags because of my own discomfort. Radqueer is one of those identities I see around that I've had little interest in getting myself wrapped up in discourse wise.

I have a very complex relationship with my own gender, sexuality, and overall identity, but it's not something that is ever going to affect anyone else outside of me. This does influence how I treat others who seem to define themselves in good faith. I think from what I remember seeing radqueers are known for being accepting of good faith labels, but to a radical degree. While I am all about letting people express themselves how they want, as it rarely affects anyone else, I wouldn't say I'm radical. I am very critical of plenty of things in online spaces and critical of a lot of labels people use. I am a complex individual with complex opinions that are always changing the older I get.

Now to all our followers

We would appreciate it if you would refrain from judging us based on any past community experiences and instead base it on how our account makes you feel. As a follower, if anything we've ever said has made you feel unsafe, then you are welcome to leave. No hard feelings. However, if there hasn't been anything said or reblogged that indicates us being problematic to your health and safety, then I would say I am safe to be around.

I don't know what your experiences are, but I've always strived to be an accepting and welcoming individual. Doesn't mean I agree with everyone I interact with, but ideally, no one should view me as unsafe. Anti endos may, but that's only because we are a target to their hate. People I speak to online are strangers, my followers are wonderful but still strangers. I am by default polite and civil with strangers. That's just how I do things. Don't assume it means I'm something specific because of it.

Most of these current day communities and discourses I know ZERO about. General queer, system, and kin stuff is kinda my spoon limit for getting involved with online. My opinions and stances are complex. It's like politics. I'm not going to agree with everything or be the poster board child for either side. There's always complexities and nuances that can make someone not belong to either side or fit into a community. I've found that to be my lot in most things.

I'm furry, queer, plural, endo safe, daemian, and all together, I suppose, alterhuman. I don't use other labels unless it's to explain specifics, like my sexuality.

-Kit

[my-castles-crumbling]

Chapter 7- Clandestine

Guys. I am not being dramatic when I say that I suffered from so much Writer's Block during this chapter. I know it's not amazing, but that this point I just needed to put something out there. Please please leave notes and comments and kudos, I need encouragement. CW: Walburga is in this one, guys. Nuff said? If not, transphobia, dysphoria, child abuse, unsafe binding, misgendering, deadnaming, all of those things.

The dream was always the same, now. His mother and father, backing him into a corner, wands raised, jeering at him.

Screaming his old name.

Repeating insults and promising horrible things, choking him with frills and lace.

He would always wake with a scream.

Barty and Evan swore he was cracking with the pressure of exams. Barty suggested drugs. Regulus chucked pillows at him.

-

“We have a plan, Reg,” Sirius reassured him one warm day in May.

It was true. They had a plan. That was all Regulus could remind himself as the days continued to warm.

A month at home. Then, he was to go to Dorcas’s and Sirius was to go to the Potters’.

A month. He could do that. He’d done it before. He had Sirius.

“I still don’t understand why Mother and Father agreed to my going to Cas’s house at all,” Regulus murmured back, not meeting Sirius’s concerned eyes.

That was how Sirius usually looked at him now- with worry and concern. He hated making Sirius worry, hated making anyone worry, but It didn’t help that he was a mess, with deep circles under his eyes and constantly wincing when he moved because of how tight he kept the bandages.

Sirius suggested, once, that he loosen them, but he refused. He hated the feeling of being without them. The nausea. The cold chills. And they kept him grounded, somehow. A reminder that he could fight against his body. Even though he felt, some days, like he was losing. Losing against everything, really.

“I…I think they’re just thankful that you want to be friends with a girl,” Sirius suggested gently.

Regulus mulled that over. He’d always rejected associating with girls, always pushed so much to not be grouped with his girl cousins, that his parents were probably rejoicing at the idea of him spending time with a pureblood girl. As if maybe Dorcas would have a good influence on him.

“Well, if they think she’ll make me more girly, they have another thing coming,” Regulus chuckled humorlessly. Dorcas was fierce and passionate and intelligent and relentless and bold. But she rejected bows and dresses almost as much as Regulus did.

“Yes, but they don’t have to know that,” Sirius grinned, knocking Regulus with his shoulder.

-

It was strange, how the days seemed to pass faster and faster as it got warmer. It was as if they were trying to run away, like they knew Regulus was grasping to them for dear life, and they would do anything to escape his hold.

The idea that he would only have to be home for a month sustained him. It kept him from completely freaking out. He felt the panic underneath his very skin, but he didn't let it break free.

Admittedly, he got sick of the way Sirius and his friends kept looking at him- like he was going to burst into tears or have some sort of fit. It made it worse. Like they thought he was fragile. Girls were fragile. He was not. He was...he could be...strong. He didn't want to worry anyone.

He was terrified, too, that if he became a burden, people would be less likely to indulge him. That they would see him as an inconvenience and stop helping him.

That was the only problem with the happiness that came with being who he was. He was petrified to lose it. And he needed people's help, at least for now, to continue.

He hated needing them, but he did need them. He needed Sirius's old uniforms and Pandora's biology know-how and Dorcas's haircutting charms. He needed them to call him but his name and remind him he wasn't crazy.

So he held the nerves and emotions inside, fearful of being too much, and reminded himself over and over again.

Only a month. Only a month.

-

His parents still had no idea he was called "Regulus" at school- that he was in the boys' dorms and was accepted as a boy there. He'd managed to hide his original letter from Hogwarts. So, he and Sirius decided he would avoid leaving the train for as long as possible when they arrived. That would stop anyone from referring to him as “Regulus” in front of his parents, and stop his parents from using his old name in front of his friends.

So as the train squealed to a stop and students piled out, he sat in the window, watching those he knew reunite with their families.

Dorcas ran to her exhausted-looking grandparents and hugged them eagerly, allowing her siblings to surround her and embrace her as well. She looked so thrilled, so relieved to see her family. The children were dressed in threadbare clothing but they still looked happy. Their smiles and rosy cheeks somehow made up for their mismatched outfits and array of obvious hand-me-downs.

In stark contrast, across the platform, Barty walked up to a very smartly-dressed man. It was clear this man had money- the way he held himself just oozed affluence. The man, Barty’s father, looked down on him with obvious distaste, gesturing towards Barty’s Slytherin tie. Regulus inhaled a bit as Barty visibly deflated, shrugging and making some sort of halfhearted comment back, only for the man to turn quickly and lead his son from the station. Anger riled a bit in Regulus’s stomach.

He then spotted Evan and Pandora walking slowly and waving goodbye to friends and towards Regulus on the train, looking around for their parents. Regulus realized only a moment after Evan and Pandora, themselves, that their parents weren’t there. His chest constricted as he saw a very meek-looking house elf walk towards them. They exchanged a glance before walking toward the elf, who they seemed to recognize, and the three of them walked towards the Floo connection in the back of the station wordlessly.

As they disappeared, Regulus took a moment to control his fury. Their parents didn’t even come for them. As they returned from their first year of Hogwarts. They sent the house elf. He wanted to punch the wall. He realized with a pang that he wasn't the only one of his friends who was in for a difficult summer.

In an effort to distract himself from this thought, he turned his head to watch someone else. Anyone else. And of course, his eyes found James Potter. They did that a lot.

He was walking toward a tall, handsome man with dark hair and glasses, who was grinning from ear to ear; and a shorter, chubby woman with tan skin and kind eyes, whose hair reached all the way down her back.

It was clear, very quickly, that the man and woman were Potter’s parents. Their features, their warmth, their laughter…even if they weren’t both hugging Potter, it would have been easy to see.

And then Sirius approached, waving a bit hesitantly. And in one fell swoop, the woman pulled Sirius in her arms, making him grin and blush a bit, as the four of them began talking quickly to each other.

And Regulus felt the insane urge to join them. To place himself in the middle of their four-way embrace and just drink in the obvious warmth there.

He felt the slightest tinge of jealousy seep through his body as he watched Sirius so easily meld into their little family, so easily receive love.

While he waited on the train alone.

-

“How was your first year, Regina? I trust you did well?”

The question at dinner that night hit him hard, the name stabbing white-hot, even more than usual after not having heard it for a year. He resisted the urge to upend the table.

What should he say?

“Regulus is top in his class, Mother,” came Sirius’s cold-but-proud voice from across the table.

Regulus fought back the urge to smile at Sirius’s pride. It was true. He’d aced every single one of his final exams.

But there was a beat of silence as it seemed Mother and Father were trying to decide how to react to Sirius’s statement.

Finally, Mother said, in a voice filled with cold fury, “Regulus?”

It was clear what she meant. She did not mean to address him. She meant to ask what Sirius meant by the name. Why he was still using it.

And suddenly, Regulus felt as if he was at a crossroads. He could submit to his parents for the summer, like he had been terrified to do. Play their games, allow them to scare him and control him. Or…

He looked at Sirius, who was looking back at him, that same sympathetic expression on his face. And all at once, he felt a stab of anger and bravery strike him.

He pasted an angelic smile on his face. “Yes, mother?” he asked politely, as if responding to his name being called.

Sirius’s mouth popped open and he grinned.

Regulus felt a moment of triumph and pride.

But then both he and Sirius yelled out at once, an invisible spell striking them both in the face.

“Do not use that name in my house,” Mother growled, chin raised and eyes flashing. "And if you dare embarrass our house with this little...illness anymore, Regina...your father and I will have to resort to more drastic measures.

Fighting back the sense of for guilt getting Sirius hurt but unable to be scared, Regulus just slammed his silverware down and left the room silently.

-

Was it better to get something you’ve yearned for for so long only to have someone try to rip it away from you again? Or just not get it at all?

This was the thing Regulus contemplated constantly over the next few weeks.

His parents were ruthless.

They seemed to still believe he only acted like this at home, that it was still a phase- an act of rebellion- and they had the chance to change it. It was as if they’d made an agreement to come down even harder on him this summer, to try to physically stomp the fight out of him. Like they’d agreed that, if they tried hard enough, they could exorcise any evidence of masculinity in him. Like a demon.

If he dared insist he was a boy, he was locked in his room. If he had the gall to correct anyone on his name, he was hit.

He was refused multiple meals for point-blank rejecting the dresses Mother bought him and had spells shot at him for continuously washing the makeup off his face when she wasn’t looking.

But this year, it was different.

He remembered, last year, the place he had been in. The shell he had become. He had been so tired, so hopeless, so frustrated. He’d tried to fight, but he’d had no idea who he was or how to be who he was. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, he’d never been given a true chance. The fight that had left him and the numbness he had felt had been like a trickle of water into his lungs, slowly drowning him without him even realizing.

But after a year at Hogwarts, a year of living, he couldn’t feel like that again. He couldn’t force himself back into that box. He knew better.

So he found it easier and less scary to fight and take the pain, because he knew it was better this way. Better than the way he reacted when submitting to their expectations or being someone he was not.

So, really, having gotten to be who he was for just a little while gave him the fight to remember who he was when he was being hurt and questioned and screamed at. When they tried to force him to forget.

-

After three weeks, though, it still took a toll.

He survived.

He lost far too much weight from the meals he wasn’t given.

He had layers of magically hidden bruises from his Mother’s wrath.

He winced and groaned as he pulled the bandages around his growing chest tiger still. He had heat rashes, now, and his skin was on fire.

He hated his body.

But he kept quiet. He didn’t allow anyone to see him in pain. He felt like that would be admitting defeat.

He also knew that if he showed his pain too much, Sirius would try to do more for him. And part of him was scared that Sirius would get sick of that. That he would leave him alone. Like he had when he'd gone to Hogwarts the first time.

Only twice did Sirius catch him crying. And both times, Sirius's startled look sent them both into waves of tears.

They survived together.

-

He’d stressed for days about going to Dorcas’s with long hair. He tried not to let it show, but he knew Sirius knew.

At Hogwarts, he cut it regularly. Dorcas knew a charm. But Mother and Father had taken both his and Sirius’s wands, and hidden anything sharp. They’d insisted he would do well to grow it out.

Instead, he worried.

But Sirius snuck into his room the night before they were both due to leave and led him to the bathroom, sitting him in the tub and taking a pair of scissors out from his pocket.

“Where’d you get those?” Regulus breathed, hardly daring to speak in more than a whisper. Mother and Father had been a lot more vigilant about checking to see if they were sneaking into each other’s rooms- they thought that Sirius was a bad influence.

“I sent Procyon to James and asked for a pair. I didn’t tell him why,” Sirius murmured, gently sitting on the edge of the tub behind him and snipping away.

Procyon was the family owl. But he was usually locked in his cage when not in use. “How–”

“Remus taught me how to pick locks the Muggle way,” Sirius cut him off, a smile in his voice. Snip. “It took a few nights of trying, but I finally got him out. Good he got some exercise, it’s not like Mother and Father use him often.”

Walburga and Orion preferred Floo calls or in-person meetings. Something about the post not being trustworthy.

“So they didn’t catch you?” Regulus asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

Snip. “Don’t think so. Hold still, you’re squirming.”

But Regulus had to turn to face Sirius. Again, he was risking being caught and subsequently punished. Just for him. “I…thank you. For doing that.”

Sirius studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. “You’re worth it, Reggie.”

And Regulus turned away, not sure how to respond to that, instead just focusing on the feeling of the cool metal brushing his skin.

-

Let it be known that Sirius did not gain his dramatics in a vacuum. Walburga Black was known to be vindictively theatrical in her own special way.

Or maybe she was just pissed about his hair. Either way, she waited until the morning to tell them: Regulus was only allowed to go to Dorcas’s if she deemed Dorcas and her grandparents “appropriate.”

Regulus panicked. There was no way. Dorcas was the farthest thing from what his parents could count as appropriate- her fiery personality was far from ‘ladylike’ and she certainly would never refer to him as anything other than “Regulus.”

And the worst part was that Regulus had no way to warn her. Sirius had left before him for the Potters, and he was the best at coming up with plans. It all happened in a matter of moments. One second, he was packing, and the next Walburga was insisting she needed to make sure that Regulus would finally be around a 'good influence.' That she no longer would just be sending him through the Floo, she would be apparating him and meeting Dorcas and her family properly. Without leaving much time for argument, she dragged Regulus out the door.

-

Dorcas’s house was small. Especially for a family of seven. As they approached, Regulus took in the run-down lawn and obviously old exterior. The lawn was not cut and the paint of the house was peeling. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought back to the obnoxiously expensive way his parents had decorated their own house.

Walburga didn’t hesitate and rapped on the door firmly, sending birds in the tree nearby flying away.

Regulus’s heart hammered as they waited. He started picturing all of the things Mother could say to completely mortify him. Yes, Dorcas knew. But they had never discussed what she was going to tell her family. And she had never seen Regulus around his parents. The way his mother treated him. Maybe she saw him as a boy now, but after Walburga was through? Things would change, he was sure.

The door opened slowly. “Hello, can I help you?”

It was Dorcas. Thankfully, she looked decently put together. (Not that Regulus minded- he’d seen her in her pajamas enough to not care. But he knew his mother would judge.)

Walburga still looked down her nose at Dorcas, of course. And then…“Yes, is your mother home?” she asked snootily. Regulus blanched. He had told her. Told her that Dorcas was raised by her grandparents. Why was she so insensitive–? “My grandmother is here,” Dorcas answered simply, not allowing her expression to change.

Regulus tried to shoot her an apologetic glance even as he wanted to strangle his mother.

Dorcas left, only to return with the older woman from the train station. “How can I help you?” the woman asked politely.

With no introduction, Walburga started in. “I’d like to talk to you about my daughter before I leave her with you. I want to make sure your home is….appropriate for Regina.” Walburga spoke in almost a snarl, not bothering to keep the accusation out of her voice.

Daughter. Her. Regina. He fought back a gag. His hands shook. He felt goosebumps all over his body, as if his own skin was trying to reject the words. He studied Dorcas’s face, searching for disgust there, his heart pounding with fear and anticipation.

But Dorcas spoke up, confidently, her expression seemingly warm, but Regulus could detect a hint of fakeness. “We’re very excited to have Regina. We’ll make sure she’s very safe here.”

Regulus’s mouth popped open audibly, and he felt tears form in his eyes before he could stop them. Hearing his old name come from Dorcas’s mouth was worse, somehow. Why was it worse? His brain reeled and he felt his stomach roil, but then Dorcas threw him a sharp glance, tilting her head just slightly at Regulus’s mother.

His visibly pleased mother.

And it clicked.

“Yes, Dorcas has told me all about Regina,” Dorcas’s grandmother agreed brightly, also throwing Regulus a meaningful look. “She’s always welcome and safe here.”

Regulus blinked. He looked back and forth between the two adults, who seemed to now be in some sort of stare-off. He decided to go for broke and really sell it. “Cas promised to teach me how to straighten my hair,” he murmured, trying to make his voice sound high-pitched and excited, while simultaneously holding back his breakfast.

Walburga looked at him for a moment and Regulus knew he had her. As protective of her reputation as she was, Walburga would never outright ask if he was introducing himself as Regulus in school or telling his friends about his ‘problem.’ That would be admitting in the first place that he wasn’t the 'perfect daughter.'

So all she could do was…

“Alright. Lovely to meet you, then.”

And that was that.

-

Please please leave comments and kudos and love and read the WIP here!

Credit to @betweendyingstars whose beautiful fanart partially inspired a scene in this chapter, though their version of Sirius and Reggie are older.

[quigonswife8]

Saved: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

When you're saved by a cop called Leon Kennedy, he promises that he'll get you out of there.

gif creds: @gameplaydaily

Warnings: swearing, violence, sadness.

I finished the resident evil 2 remake yesterday and I love it!! I love Leon so much.

You are 20 in this btw, one year younger than Leon.

-----

It wakes you from your slumber. A large bang which rocks the building. The sleep still takes ahold of you, so as you slowly walk to the window to see what's happening, the sleep soon becomes non-existent. "What the hell..?" the next thing you do is quickly gather up any items necessary before leaving the room.

Trudging down the stairs and out the nearest exit you are met with screams- and then groans...unnatural groans. Surely that can't be human...right? Not even time to think on this you're pulled out of your thoughts by a *ding*, so with the phone you'd stuffed into your pocket, you quickly pull it out.

Once it's unlocked you tap on the message which is from one of your best friend's, Claire. The message seems to be typed quickly as it's not perfect, but what you read makes your stomach sink.

Claire: Can't explain what's happening but get to the police station. Will meet up with you when I can.

"What the hell is happening?" you question out loud while putting your phone away and looking around. The police station isn't far, only about a ten minute walk, but with all the shit that's happening, will you be able to get there in time?

You know you can't stay there, though. It's unsafe and you'll most likely die if you do, so the station seems to be your best bet. "Okay Claire." glancing at the apartment building, and then looking forward.

"I'm on my way."

-

Walking to the police station is a nightmare, to say the least. Those things practically surround the area, so you're forced to duck and weave in-between cars. At least you have a weapon to protect yourself if you're attacked, so that's good.

It's so weird to see the city in such ruins. Everything had been fine before you fell asleep, nothing like what was happening right now had been happening then. How can something like this happen so quickly? You do have a feeling the infamous Umbrella has something to do with this, as you know who they truly are.

Chris, your best friend and Claire's older brother, had nearly died on a mission. He'd been trapped in some mansion with a few other members of the s.t.a.r.s. team, and been forced to escape.

He'd told you everything, but one thing stuck with you. That was about umbrella, and how his captain, the man he'd served in the airforce with, the man he trusted had been apart of Umbrella all along. His name was Albert Wesker. He'd nearly killed Chris, Jill, and Barry, with this thing known as 'tyrant', but they'd thankfully escaped. So it's not a surprise if this is all umbrella's doing.

As you approach the station you notice how the lights that are usually on outside, have been switched off. That doesn't matter much to you, as the group of those things- zombies- are nearby eating someone.

Jesus

At least they're busy, right? As much as you feel bad for that person you know this is the only way to get inside. At least inside you'll be safe and you can clear your mind. "Hopefully Claire's inside." you mutter quietly as you crouch and then creep towards the building.

Groans get louder but you try and block the sounds out focusing on getting the hell inside. When you get close the sounds of them chewing nearly make you throw up but you refocus back in. Okay, it's right there. just within reach. Now if you can just get inside without getting attacked or, better yet, dying, then everything will be perfect.

Gripping onto the gun until your hand starts to cramp up you take a deep breath. Counting down in your mind, you give a quick nod. "okay." and then, without another second, you bolt towards the door. Groans and screams start up as they focus away from the dead body and to you, the perfectly alive person in front of them.

"Shit, shit, shit."

Reaching the door you open it- "no!" the door is locked. Locked. Out of all the places locked it had to be this place. Now as you hear the zombies groans as they move towards you, you resort to banging on the door.

"if someone's in there now would be the right time to open up!"

Banging quicker until your hands hurt.

"PLEASE!" but, as you come to realize, no one is going to help. Whoever is inside, if there is someone inside, probably think you're a crazy person and that it's safer to not open up. Banging against the door is useless so you decide to just stop and turn around to face them all.

Shaking you bring your gun up to shoot down however many zombies you can. There are 8, more than you had seen. Tears well in your eyes and you think of Chris- you wonder if his vacation is going well, and you think of Claire. Hopefully she's safe and she can escape this city.

Sucking in a sharp breath you get ready to fight to the death knowing that at least you went down with a fight. Bringing your finger over the trigger you take a deep breath and as you get ready to shoot, the door suddenly opens and someone's voice comes from inside.

"QUICK!"

Not seeing what they look like, but not caring. You simply back away nearly tripping over your feet but making it inside the station. Rushing backwards with the gun still gripped in your hand you watch as the mysterious person quickly locks and re-boards the door up.

The zombies practically throw themselves at the door so he holds his gun up, getting ready to shoot and kill if any were to get inside. Unable to say anything you simply look forward waiting for them to just leave, because your heart can't take dealing with any of them.

The one who'd saved you lowers their gun after a minute. He breathes a sigh of relief, and when he's certain they won't be breaking in to that part of the station at least, he turns to look at you. You who's eyes are wide with fear and you look like you've seen a ghost.

"Are you okay ma'am?"

He's wearing a uniform indicating that he's a cop. Unless he stole the uniform off some corpse, but you can tell he didn't. The stranger tucks his gun away, approaching you slowly as he doesn't want to frighten you. When he does stop, it's a "safe" distance away,

"Are you hurt?"

"No I... I haven't been hurt. I was going to be if you hadn't helped." blinking away tears and finally putting your gun away.

"Who are you?"

He seems around your age, maybe slightly older. You have never seen him around before so it's most likely that he's a new recruit. When he says what his name is, however, that's when you remember.

"Leon Kennedy."

Sometime before Chris went on vacation you had found out that a new rookie would be starting there in the next few months. Everyone was impressed by how high his marks were and were excited to welcome him. That rookie being Leon, of course, so you weren't wrong about him being a new recruit.

Now having remembered this information, you start to relax.

"It's nice to meet you Leon." stepping forward. "..and thank you."

"You're welcome, (y/n)."

Wait, how does he know my name? He notices your confusion, and decides to clear things up.

"Claire told me your name."

"Claire? wait, she was here?"

-

You learn that Claire had been with Leon when they arrived in the city, until they were separated. She'd told him about you, that if someone were to show up to the police station to let them in.

You learn that he was heading to racoon city to see what was wrong, and that's how he'd met Claire. He wasn't and still isn't sure what's happening but all he wants to do is protect and save. That's all that matters.

Now, as your break is over, you and Leon head off through the station.

-

You quickly shut and lock the door "Who the hell was that?"

"I don't know." he lowers and tucks his gun away. "...but I think we're safe for now."

Keeping away from the door as a safety precaution you lean down to catch your breath. Having dealt with zombies and these creatures that crawl on the wall, two that had nearly ripped you to shreds, you thought that was it. Until he appeared and you were sent sprinting down the hallway, thankfully finding this room to use as a safe haven.

"I can't do this." you admit, hands on your hips as you stand up. "...I just want to get the hell out of here."

"I know." Leon, having turned to face you, looks at you with sympathy. "...I will get us out of here." but what about that guy? You're both injured and need to recover in this room, but what if that guy somehow breaks in? Then you're screwed.

"Speaking of here."

You turn around taking in the room. Having been so focused on escaping you never realized where you had decided to escape to. The S.T.A.R.S. office, the place you would often go to when you'd visit Chris and would often say hi to his fellow team.

"Wow."

Even within the chaos this room seems to remain basically untouched. It still looks the exact same, even down to the way the desks are set up. Then you see it and without even meaning to you're already walking over and grabbing it off the wall.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah." you reply, feeling tears well in your eyes. Hugging the jacket you take in the smell. It still smells like him it's crazy. You're not sure when he'd hung up his jacket, but it still smells like him. It's good that he's away as he's safe [you hope], and not having to deal with all of this shit.

On the other hand you do wish he was there to comfort you. While he isn't a touch-feely type of person he does offer you comfort whenever you need it, and right now you really do. It doesn't even register that your sniffling until you feel a hand on your shoulder, and when you glance back with tear filled eyes, you see Leon staring at you with kind ones.

"I'm sorry." even though it's not his fault you're feeling like this. "...is there anything I can do?"

It's sweet that he's so carin, considering you'd just met less than three hours ago. If everything hadn't gone to shit you know he would have been a good cop, and the police department would have been happy to have him. Maybe things can still go back to normal and he still can be the cop he's wanted to be.

"...Thank you Leon, you're very kind." he takes his hand away as you turn, still holding onto the jacket. "...but you've done enough already." including how he'd saved your life, which you'll forever be grateful for.

In his opinion he's not done enough. Leon feels bad that you have to go through this especially since you're simply a civilian and he's supposed to protect people and make sure nothing happens. Though he often forgets that he's still young and shouldn't have to deal with so much.

Continuing to hug the jacket to your chest you place a hand on his shoulder for a moment, before walking off to search around the area. Leon watches you and he can tell that you're so close to breaking, and he doesn't blame you.

He watches you move about the room, and he realizes he needs to search too. Though he has one goal in mind, and as he starts to search, he doesn't forget about it.

We'll get us out of here.

-Time skip-

The train pulls out of the station and there's silence, except for the heavy breathing shared between you both.

It's finally over. After one hellish night you are on a train out of this city and to safety. After surviving against different creatures and nearly dying more times than you can count, you're finally free.

Leon sits to your right, while you lean against him. The jacket you'd grabbed from the station still with you, as it's wrapped around you.

"See..." his voice breaks through the silence, and as you look up at him, you notice how a small smile seems to grow on his lips.

"...I told you i'd get us out of there."

"That you did..." you owe everything to Leon, especially your life [you do owe Claire for that too as she’d told him to let you in. Not that he wouldn’t have, but you do still owe Claire your life too]

He'd been the reason you got through that night to live to see another day, and there aren't enough words to thank him for that. Though you wish there were.

Instead you smile up at him with a weak yet thankful smile, "Thank you Leon."

Despite everything he is able to crack a smile as he replies with "you're welcome", but there's something hidden in the way he says it, though neither of you decide to talk about that at the moment. Resting your head against his shoulder you feel as Leon leans more into your touch, and the two of you just get kind of cuddly.

Ready to fall asleep right then and there, the door in front opens, revealing Claire who's got a little girl with her. She looks at Leon, and then you, and while you don't greet eachother with open arms as you're both just tired, you do nod to eachother. You're together again, finally.

Soon some chatter is exchanged but soon enough the room falls silent again, and you head further and further away.

----

[kitkatopinions]

Like not gonna deny that Mercury's been through shit, but why is he sadistic?

So while acknowledging that Mercury is still responsible for his actions, I do think that the abuse he suffered plays a big part in how Mercury acts.

A lot of abuse victims fall into the cycle themselves, it's an unfortunate truth that violence breeds violence especially when that's all you know. Again, I'm not trying to make excuses; this is an explanation, not an excuse. But Mercury was raised in an incredibly violent and unsafe place where he was punished for weakness and taught to fight and kill. He probably doesn't think it's serious because he was never taught to value human life. And I believe that all people have a moral compass and therefore Mercury should know better, but as I mentioned in my last post, I think he just blocks out any bad feelings. I think Merc is scared of being vulnerable and weak - something he was taught by his abusive father who punished him for being weak by taking something that's described as part of people and reflections of their souls - and I think to Mercury, letting himself be bothered by the suffering of others is just another proof of weakness, one he knows he'd likely get punished for at the hands of Cinder or Salem.

So yeah, I think the two things at play with Mercury's tendency to act like he enjoys the horrible things he does is that A. He was raised to do it and therefore is desensitized to it and was never taught to value human life, and B. What remorse and doubt and shame he does feel is squashed and ignored, treated like weakness because that's probably also something he was taught at the hands of his abusive father. And on top of those things, I think Mercury has a similar 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality that Torchwick has. Mercury acts like everything that happens is inevitable, so why would he cry over spilled milk, you know? This mentality is obviously wrong, but I think that also plays into how he acts.

With Mercury, I feel like it's worth remembering that unlike some other characters, he's never been in safe conditions and has never had a good support system. Violence and murder are pretty much all he knows and it's all he knows how to do. It's not surprising to me that Mercury reacts to that environment by leaning into it and treating it all like a game. Mercury at his most sadistic almost felt like he was mirroring Cinder too - who was also acting sadistic and smirking and smug herself. It's learned behavior, it's what Mercury feels safe with and what he feels is expected of him. That's my view of it, anyway. It's very possible that the writers just write him to act that way because they think he's just a bad person naturally and they think bad people are sadistic - like Neo, like Torchwick, like Tyrian. But I personally like to try to delve deeper.

[cutedisneygirl]

Love Online Chapter 15

Warnings: a little language. The rest is just sweet.

Chris and Merida had both fallen asleep on the couch and were awoken by Merida's phone. Chris picks it up and sees its her father.

            "Who is it?"

            "Your father."

            "I don't want to talk to him. What if he..."

            "Maybe Tiffany got through to him. Maybe we should at least see what he wants."

            "Fine, but put him on speaker."

Chris accepts and puts it on speaker.

           "Daddy."

            "Hey Princess. Look I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. I shouldn't have yelled at you or even blamed Chris for what happened. I know it wasn't his fault that he was only looking out for you. I was an ass. Can you forgive me?"

            "Oh daddy, of course. I know you were just looking out of me and was worried, but Chris would never..."

           "I know he wouldn't. I know he loves you. I want to apologize to him as well."

            "I'm here Shawn. I heard everything."

            "I'm sorry Chris. I shouldn't have reacted that way. I shouldn't have yelled at you. You have done so much for my daughter. I meant what I said to you the other day. You have brought a light back into her life and I want to thank you for that. I hope you're not going anywhere, I mean... I hope you and her are..."

            Chris smiles. "We are fine. I'm not going anywhere. I'm actually here till Monday. I have the weekend off, but I go back to filming Monday. I will be filming till November."

            "Okay. Just be careful. I know you will but take care of my daughter."

            "I will. Always. I won't let anything happen to her. You have my word on that. Your daughter means the world to me."

            Her dad smiles. "Thanks Chris."

            "So daddy, did Tiffany talk to you?"

            "Yes, she told me everything. I know it wasn't Chris's fault. I know that Bradley has been doing this for a while now. He never stopped loving you, or so he says. He has been watching you ever since you broke up."

            "What!"

            "You didn't know?"

            "No! I have him blocked on Instagram. I don't see anything he posts and he can't see mine."

            "Oh, well sorry, maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but yeah. According to Tiffany who sees his posts says he has never forgotten you and that he has been watching you and when he saw you were with Chris he got mad and started saying a lot on there."

Merida looks at Chris. Chris doesn't say a word. He looks down at Dixie who is laying at the end of the couch with her head on his feet.

            "Well, I think he's gone now. I don't think I will hear from him again. Right Chris?"

            "Right. My security team took care of him."

            "Okay good! Well I guess I'll let you two go. Enjoy your weekend. I love you Princess, and again I'm sorry."

            "I love you too Daddy. Goodnight."

Chris ended the call and set her phone on the coffee table.

            "Well glad everything is okay with your dad."

            "Yeah me too. I was worried. As I said I've never seen him react that way before and it scared me."

            "I know, but you don't have to be scared anymore. It's all over." He says rubbing her shoulder.

            "Chris?"

            "Yes babe?"

            "Will I still be followed?"

            "No, I don't think you need to be unless you would feel safer that way."

            "No. I hate the idea of being followed everywhere I go."

Chris smiles. "Alright. I will tell them they don't have to anymore. But promise me, if you ever feel unsafe or think you are in danger tell me. Okay?"

            "Okay. I will."

            Chris kisses her head. "Babe?"

            "Yes?"

            "You never did answer my question."

            "What question?" She asked looking up at him.

            "The question I asked you when we played scrabble."

Merida looked up at Chris then looked back down and stayed quiet.

            "Babe?"

            "I thought you had forgotten about that question." She said without looking at him.

Chris laughs.

           "No. I haven't forgotten. I was trying to give you time and then with everything that happened I just didn't bring it back up. But...it's been two months since I asked."

            "I...I'm..."

Chris puts his hand under her chin and lifts it up so she is looking at him.

           "What is it? You scared?"

            "Yes, but...I'm...not..."

             "You're not what?"

             "I'm not ready for that."

             "Okay, I respect that. I understand."

              "You know I love you and..."

              "Babe, it's okay," he says taking her hand and rubbing it. "I love you too." He leans forward and kisses her.

Merida smiles. "You know I never told you that like your hair better this way." She says reaching up running hands over his hair.

              "Oh you do huh?"

              "Yes, I didn't really like it long. I also like you better without the beard." She says rubbing his cheek.

             "Is that so?" he asks smiling.

             "Yes, the beard tickled."

Chris laughs. "Oh it did huh?"

            "Yeah."

             "Well I can't promise it will stay like this forever. And speaking of being tickled, are you ticklish?"

           "Why?"

            "I'm just asking."

             "Don't get any ideas."

Chris laughs. "Are you?"

             "Maybe."

             "You're not going to tell me?"

             "No." she says biting her lip

              "Oh babe, you and that lip biting." He says reaching up and caressing her cheek then leaning forward and kissing her.

            "Chris." Merida says pulling away slightly.

            "Yeah."

Merida gets quiet.

            "What is it babe?"

Merida doesn't say a word she leans forward and kisses Chris on the lips then kisses his neck.

            "Babe, are you sure you're ready? We don't..."

            "Yes Chris I'm sure. I don't want to go all the way but..."

Chris smiles and lifts her chin so she is looking at him. "If you're sure. I don't want you to feel like you have to."

            "I'm sure. I want to."

Chris smiles and leans forward and kisses her.

            Chris and Merida spend the rest of the weekend together. They mostly spend it at Merida's house relaxing watching TV and playing games. They take Dixie for some walks. Then early Monday morning Chris leaves after they have eaten breakfast.

            "I will text you when I get back to Boston."

            "Okay."

            "I love you Babe."

            "I love you too."

Chris kisses her then picks up his stuff and leaves. Merida stands at the door and watches him pull out of her driveway. Once he's gone she cleans up from their breakfast and gets ready for work.

            The next few weeks go by. One night Merida is talking to Chris on FaceTime.

            "Chris?"

            "Yeah babe?"

            "Do you think it's safe for me to get back on Instagram?"

"Uh...I..."

            "I promise I will be careful."

            "I will let you on one condition."

            "What's that?"

            "You have to promise me; you won't read any comments."

            "I promise. If I do, I will be careful...I mean I will ignore them."

            "Alright."

            "I need my password. You changed it remember."

            "Oh right. Its flannagan."

            "Flannagan?"

            "Yeah. It's the street I grew up on."

            "Oh. You know it's also the name of a character in Oliver and Company."

            "Oh yes you're right. I had forgotten about that."

            They talked for another hour before they said goodnight. That night Merida got on Instagram and posted a pic.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

I was studying and Dixie put her head on my book and gave me this look like "are you done yet? I'm tired."

Merida then put her phone down beside her and went to sleep. The next morning Merida wakes up to her phone. She picks it up and sees she has a message.

Morning Beautiful

Merida sees the message and is confused. Why would Chris message her from his private account? He always uses his phone number now. They have not talked on Instagram in months.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Uh good morning. Why are you messaging me here? Why are you not using your phone number?

(Chris not putting pic again) I laid my phone down somewhere and I can't find it. So decided to message you here.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Oh, okay.

Merida still didn't know what to think. She decided to message Chris.

Merida-Morning Chris. Have you sent me a message on Instagram?

Merida sets her phone down and gets ready for work.  After she is ready and is eating breakfast her phone goes off.

Hope you have a wonderful day Babe. I love you

Merida smiles. It sounds just like Chris. But it can't be? Can it? Has he misplaced his phone and is messaging her here?

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Thanks. You too. ☺️

Merida cleans up her dishes and quickly brushes her teeth and feeds Dixie then lets her outside and heads to work. The morning goes by quickly. When nap time comes Merida is glad she has time to relax. She is patting a kid to sleep when her phone goes off.

Chris-This is Brad Chris's assistant. Be careful.Scammers are everywhere

Merida sees the message and is curious as to why his assistant is messaging her from Chris's phone and is surprised by his message. She knows scammers are everywhere, but it just doesn't make since. This is from his official account. It's the same pic and even has the blue check mark. How can it not be Chris? She hopes she hears from Chris soon.

The rest of the day goes by and she still hears nothing from Chris. That night after she eats dinner she does her homework. While she is reading she gets another message on Instagram.

Hey beautiful! Hope you had a wonderful day. I still can't seem to find my phone. Having to use my laptop to message you from my Instagram.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Oh, okay. I had a pretty good day. I'm tired. Doing homework at the moment. Not fun.

Yeah homework is never fun. Good luck with that. I miss you.

Merida smiles. It sounds so much like Chris. How could it be scammer?

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Thanks. I need it. I miss you too. I need to get to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.

Okay, goodnight beautiful. Love you

Disneydoggrl83❤️

Goodnight. Love you too.

Merida can't believe that Chris has not called her. She wants to believe these messages that tell her he can't find his phone. It makes since, since he hasn't called her. But then she remembers the message she got from his assistant saying be careful of scammers. Something weird is going on. Merida thinks. She lays down with Dixie beside her and goes to sleep. The next few days go by. She still has not gotten a call from Chris. She is still talking to who she thinks is him on Instagram. He always messages her and says good morning and wishes her a good day. At night he messages her a little but its brief. Then one Friday night, Merida has just gotten home from work and is getting ready to fix her dinner when her phone goes off. She sees she is getting a FaceTime call from Chris. She immediately answers.

            "Chris!"

            "Hey babe. I'm sorry I haven't called in a few days. I've been super busy. When I get done with filming I crash."

            "It's okay. I understand."

            "I saw the message my assistant sent you. What's going? Has someone contacted you?"

            "Uh...well...I got this message on Instagram. It looks like it was you. It had your profile picture and even had the blue check mark."

            "What! What did it say?"

            "They wished me good morning. They sounded just like you. Called me beautiful, babe and even said I love you. They told me that they miss placed their phone and that's why they were using Instagram to message me. I thought it was weird, but it made since, since I haven't talked to you. So I thought it was you."

            "Babe! I have not messaged you. I won't use my private account to message you. Now that I have your number this is the only way I will contact you. Would you copy the messages and send them to me? I want to see."

            "Okay, I will when we get off."

            "No, do it now. I will hold on."

            "Okay, if I happen to lose you, I will call you back."

            "Okay babe."

Merida minimizes her call and goes to Instagram and copies the messages and sends them Chris. She then goes back to the call.

            "Chris, you still there?"

            "Yes. I got the message. Hang on let me look."

Chris checks his message.

            "Fuck! Babe, I can see why you thought it was me. But it wasn't! I need to look into this. Are you okay with me logging into your account to check this out?"

            "Yes. I trust you."

            "Okay. And I loved your post by the way. Dixie is cute. She's really growing."

            "I know! Chris?"

            "Yeah babe?"

            "I'm sorry."

            "Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

            "For thinking it was you. I should have known better. I know you..." she says biting her lip.

            "Babe, it's okay. You have nothing be sorry for. I should have tried contact you before now. It's my fault. I've just been so busy lately and I...I'm the one who should be sorry. It's my fault." He frowns.

            "Chris, no. It's not your fault. I know your busy. I just feel so stupid! I should have known it wasn't you. I should have stopped talking to them when your assistant messaged me, but I...I was..."

            "Babe, hey, it's okay. I will take of it alight?"

            "Okay."

            "Don't talk to them anymore alright? Just ignore them if they message you again."

            "Alright. Can I still post on Instagram?"

            "Yes, just be careful."

            "I will, promise."

            "Alright. Well babe, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need to take Dodger for a walk and try and get some sleep. I have a long day tomorrow."

            "Okay. Goodnight Chris. I love you."

            "I love you too beautiful."

Chris says blowing her a kiss. Merida smiles and blows a kiss back to him and they end the call.

Merida is about to fix her dinner when her phone goes off. She has another message and she has comments on her post.

Hey beautiful! Hope you had a wonderful day! I miss you so much.

Disneydoggrl83❤️

(pic I used earlier of the dog goes here again i wont put the pic again)

I was studying and Dixie puts her head on my book and gave me this look like "are you done yet? I'm tired."

LoveableTiff💕Liked Aww, Dixie is just so stinking cute! She is really growing too! Wow 😮

Fangirl # 2 Liked Aww, Dixie is cute. ☺️

(chris pic profile would go here not putting it again)

Liked

Dixie is adorable. She is really growing. I miss her. Look forward to seeing her again soon. ☺️I love you beautiful 😘

Merida couldn't believe it! Scott, Chris's brother had liked and commented on her post and she was sure that her Chris was the one that liked and commented on her post. Her thoughts were then interrupted by her phone going off.

Chris-Wanted to let you know, that it was me who liked and commented on your post. ☺️

Merida-I figured it was. Thanks for letting me know. ☺️

Chris-Love you babe, goodnight sweet dreams.

Merida-Goodnight Chris. Love you too 😘

Chris-😘❤️

Over the next few weeks Chris and Merida continued to talk. Merida didn't get any more messages from Chris's Instagram account. She also notices that it disappeared and knew that Chris had taken care of it. As the month passed, Merida was getting excited. It was almost November and she would be able to see Chris again. One Friday night Merida had just gotten home from work and was eating dinner when her phone went off. She saw it was Chris Face Timing her.

            "Hey!"

            "Hey beautiful. How's my girl?"

            "I'm good. I just got home. I'm eating dinner."

            "Oh sorry."

            "It's okay. You don't have to apologize. How was your day?"

            "Tiring. I'm ready for a break."

            "I bet you are."

            "I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving."

            "Okay."

            "What do you have planned?"

            "Well I always go to my dad's on Thanksgiving."

            "Well I was wondering if you would like to spend Thanksgiving with my family."

            "I would love to, but..."

            "But?"

            "I hate to not be with my dad on Thanksgiving. We always spend thanksgiving together and..."

            "I understand. How about we get together after thanksgiving? You could come to Boston with me.

            "Uh...yeah ...I guess I can."

            "You guess you can." Chris laughs. "Babe, what's wrong?"

            "Nothing. I just..."

            "Are you scared?"

            "A little. I've never met your family. What if they hate me?"

            "Babe, they won't hate you. They will love you, just like I do. You've already sorta met Scott. He can't wait to meet you in person and my mom, she can't wait to meet you."

            "You've talked to your family about me?"

            "Of course I have. Babe, I promise it will be okay. They will love you."

Merida smiles. "Okay. Would you like to spend Thanksgiving with me and my dad?"

            "I'd love to babe."

Merida smiles again. "When will you be here?"

            "I should be able to be there the day before Thanksgiving if all goes well."

            "Okay. I can't wait to see you. I've missed you so much."

            "I've missed you too babe. I need to go, but I will talk to you later alright? I love you."

            "I love you too Chris."

Kiss blows her a kiss and hangs up.

Merida is excited. She can't wait to see Chris, but she is nervous about meeting his family. He told her she had nothing to worry about, but she can't help but worry. What will they think of her? She is only a daycare teacher. She knows Chris would hate her thinking this way, but she couldn't help it. She still at times wonders what he sees in her, but she knows he loves her and would do anything for her and she loves him. She is trying to get better about not doubting herself but it's still hard.

Two days before Thanksgiving Merida has just gotten home, she has let Dixie outside and is getting ready to eat some dinner when her phone rings. She picks it up from the island and sees its Tiffany.

            "Hey girl!"

            "Mer, hey! How are you?"

            "I'm good."

            "I'm sure your better than good. Doesn't Chris come tomorrow?"

            "Yes," she smiles.

            "I know your smiling. I can hear it in your voice. When he is getting there?"

            "Not sure. He hasn't told me a time."

            "When are you going to your dads?"

            "Around noon on Thanksgiving."

            "Alright. I should be there too."

            "Oh your coming too?"

            "Yeah. I am going to Matt's soon after, so I won't be staying long."

            "Oh, okay. Glad things are going well for you and Matt."

            "Me too. He's a great guy."

            "He seems like it. I still want to meet him."

            "I know. And I promise you will soon. So you haven't had any more fake accounts have you?"

            "No, not since Chris took care of that one. I've been very careful on Instagram lately."

            "That's good. There are still crazy fan girls on there. I know you said you're not reading comments much."

            "No, I promised Chris I wouldn't. He knows it only makes me feel bad."

            "Yeah. So things with you and Chris, are they getting serious?"

            "I don't know. I mean we haven't been together but almost five months. So..."    

            "Well a lot can happen in five months."

             "True, but I'm not rushing it Tiff. I am not ready to even think about that yet."

Tiffany laughs. "Alright fine. Well I was wondering."

            "Yeah?"

            "Maybe we can have girls night when you get back from Boston."

            "Sure, I'll need it."

            "Why is that?"

            "I will need to tell all about meeting his family and..."

            "Oh right. Your nervous about that aren't you?"

            "I'm terrified! Tiff, what if they hate me? What if they..."

            "Mer, I know Chris told you they will love you! I know they will. Your amazing! I'm sure you will fit right in."

            "I hope your right."

            "I know I'm right. Stop worrying! I need to go. I'll see you in a few days. Love ya."

            "Love you too. See ya."

Merida hung up and a few minutes later Chris called her. They talked for a few minutes before he said he had to go, but he told her he would be there around noon the next day maybe a little later. After Merida ate some dinner and let Dixie back in she got ready for bed and climbed in bed and read for a minutes before finally climbing under the covers and going to sleep with Dixie next to her. She couldn't wait to see him the next day. She went to sleep smiling and dreamed of Chris.

Taglist-@cevansbaby-dove @lizette50 @nicoline1998enilocin @frogeezz-blog-blog @krissy25 @sarahrogersevans @katherineswritingsblog @nescavaneck @nescaveckdaily @angelbabyyy99 @hollybee8917 @bookishtheaterlover7

[microknifeyuri]

Beware of HybridAlex17.

CW: Guilt-tripping, Suicide Baiting, Manipulation, Stalking, Identity Theft, Death Threats. Please read this. It is very important.

Hello, I usually don't make these type of posts, but lately I've been too stressed to even be here on Tumblr due to a certain individual in The Lego Movie Fandom. And that person is @/HybridAlex17.

Weeks ago, I decided to cut ties with this person on a calm way due to the fact that I genuinely couldn't keep the friendship going on any longer. Truth is that this friendship made me feel like I was trapped.

I'm in no way invalidating his trauma and suffering, and of course, I will always try to help my friends in times of need, but Alex constantly needed me to "comfort him" and basically be there for him all of the time, making me responsible of his emotions since he's an very unstable person "who would think of the worst case scenario happening to me" if I didn't told him what I was doing at the moment. Of course, friendships are meant to work through bad and good times. But there's moments where you should realize that you have limits. I had mine.

And I couldn't possibly just stay any longer in a relationship where it felt like I had to take care of someone. That's not what I'm looking for. It never was. I felt unsafe and constantly scared about what he could do to himself if I said the wrong thing, as he was constantly feeling bad about everything. And call me what you want, but I realized that, I do not want to be there. But even then, I didn't have any hard feelings towards him. I genuinely wished him the best and to get better, but I couldn't be there to see that change. My mental health mattered. So I spoke to him very calmly about it, reassuring him that I do not hate him and I just wanted to cut our ties peacefully.

(At the moment, I censored his name to protect his identity. This was before I blocked him.)

Then, in reply, he guilt-tripped me, wishing that I never met him, that he died that one time, that this never happened, and everything. Despite me having high hopes for him to actually react properly, he didn't. So I ended up blocking him in all of his accounts and just calling it a day, because I didn't want to think of it. Sounds pretty fair by now, right?

Well, the story does not end there. Some more days later, he would then tag me on a PUBLIC POST (because he couldn't just DM me, I guess), apologizing for taking it too personally and for everything in spanish. I spoke to my friends about this at the moment because I really didn't feel like it was genuine. You would never post an apology towards someone unless you would want them to feel pressured to reply to you, right? Well then, because he did this already MORE THAN ONE TIME with me. I blocked him because I really didn't want to deal with it. It was tiring and I was hoping that he would just give up.

(This account of his does no longer exist.)

But then, here comes the impersionation thing. Three days ago, my friends sent me an blog that was weirdly similar to mine. Lucy icon and the description, eh, ya' know. Very fucking basic. And look at the URL. A mix of the words Max and Philippa but changed to spell Philippines.

And if that does not convince you, then take a look at this post.

"Android Emmet AU".

I swear to fucking God.

You guys might or might not know that I'm the creator of the Android Rex AU, I created it on June 22 of the past year, being the second AU I've ever made. So he didn't only just made a weird puppet of me to pretend that we're still friends, he's STEALING THE WHOLE THING AND TRYING TO MAKE OTHERS THINK THAT IT IS AN ACCOUNT OF MINE.

But seriously though. Come on. He's not fooling anyone. It's an pathetic imitation of who I am, of what can I do. He's acting like he knows me enough, but he never even tried to. He could never replace me. He will never get me back. And he knows it. He knows it so well.

Yesterday, it was my birthday. Of course, it was a great day for me. But various anonymus asks came in for me then. The first ones were kind ones, but then, there were some that straight up wished that I was never born and that I died! And hey! Not to assume! But that was Alex in different accounts! Because he literally stopped once I turned the anonymus off and one of my friends stood up for me!

And you can see this by scrolling through my blog just a bit!

And once he realized that he fucked up, because they thought that this friend of mine didn't have any relation with me (despite the fact that I do have posts where I drew their guys), he blocked them and "apologized". Can't even take responsability for such a messed up thing.

And he just didn't stop there. Wishing me death? Expected it. But how did he know that it was my birthday? Because I blocked him before I ever publically told it. And that's when it hit me. An alt account. And someone sent me a post in which he drew Android Rex and Joseph, two of the main characters of my AU for my birthday, saying that he wishes the best for me and stuff.

I never fucking told you when my birthday was. You could have never possibly known unless you were stalking me over an account. You use alternative accounts to boost your own art and don't even try to deny it. People will realize once they take a look. So many empty accounts. Instead of moving on and just fucking accepting that I cut ties with you because you made me feel scared of even entering this app, and learning from your mistakes, you're being a fucking creepy man. And don't deny it. You've done this to a bunch of people here. My close friends were affected by your shit.

And I know that you're going to see this.

And just so you know, since you crave my attention so fucking much to the point where you created a fake account that was "me" so you could still think that nothing happened, let me tell you something.

I was never angry at you. I stated that I wanted to cut ties because I couldn't be in such a toxic relationship. I respected you as a person. But then you tried to make me feel bad about my choice. About everything I do. Because that's what you're good for. Is this how you treat your friends? Because Good Lord. Seeing your true colors makes me think that we were never really friends since the start.

And even then? I'm not angry at you.

I'm disappointed.

And I already hit my favor quota on saying this in the most harmless of ways possible, but I'm feeling generous. So. Like. Have some dignity, would you? Don't be an asshole. Move on. I already did.

I hoped that you would move on. But you never learn anything, do you? You said how much you cared about me back then. I guess death treats, constantly stalking someone, and impersonating them is your way to care.

I will never be your friend.

And to those who read this post, please, do not harass HybridAlex17. As much damage he has done, he's not worth it. What I would be thankful of is that you guys report the fake account he made of me, since I can't do it myself. And let others know about him and his doings.

If you're a friend of HybridAlex17, then I'm deeply sorry. I do not have any hard feelings towards you, but I would rather not interact with anyone who is.

And with this, I'm done. Take care, all of you.