#i still like them and i’m still hoping they all understand why they’re wrong eventually

[youruncleolaf]

tired of people saying “what’d you expect? stop having so much faith in strangers, of course they’re zionists”. as if it’s so unreasonable of us to assume people we have an emotional attachment to would be good people. as if it’s unreasonable to expect anyone to be a decent human being. it isn’t normal to assume everyone is a horrible piece of shit and i’m exhausted of people acting like it is. it doesn’t matter if we don’t know them, we like them, of course we’re going to be sad when they do something upsetting. i’m pissed off and angry and i feel betrayed because i thought so highly of these people only to be so disappointed so suddenly in such a serious way. i’m going to continue being angry at them regardless of how much i don’t personally know them because it’s a reasonable thing to be angry about

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two four

A small note: if you would like to be added to the tagging list please ask in a reply to the post, I won't check elsewhere.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch. He’s staring into space, a couch cushion clutched tight to his chest.

Steve creeps in after Robin, hears her say, “Eddie?” softly, presumably so she doesn’t startle him.

He’s sitting in the dark, and they both just leave it that way. Probably an unspoken understanding that they don’t want to unsettle Eddie.

They sit down either side of him, Robin rubbing at his back. Steve keeps his hands to himself, not sure what will be welcome, and even less sure what the fuck he should say. Robin’s just better at this sort of stuff than Steve, maybe because she’s a girl or whatever, but she definitely has the emotional intelligence half of the brain.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s anything he even can say in a situation like this.

Eddie’s eyes are red and his face is wet, and he doesn’t move or look at either of them.

Eventually, Robin speaks gently, “Eddie, we can’t stay here.”

Steve figures whoever did live here probably cleared out when everything went to shit. He’s kind of glad; has no fucking idea how he’d explain away Eddie Munson, possible cult leader and serial killer, breaking into their house.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s going to say anything, but he does, after a minute, he nods, and says in a croaky voice, “I want to see Wayne.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agrees quickly, “we can do that, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying to sound sure and confident with that, when Eddie flinches. Visibly flinches. Turning away, shuffling closer to Robin’s end of the couch. And, okay.

Robin looks at him over Eddie’s head. Steve shrugs. Robin shrugs back. No idea.

Steve carefully, making no quick movements, moves his hand in front of his mouth, mimes using the walkie. Robin nods.

Steve jogs out to the car, walkie’s everyone real quick so they can stop looking. The others have already woken Wayne up, discovered that Eddie wasn’t there, and then gone looking for Eddie, so they’re going to head back there and wait for Steve and Robin to bring Eddie over. Explain to Wayne that Eddie’s safe so they don’t leave him worrying in the meantime.

Steve creeps back in, hoping Robs has made some progress getting Eddie moving. She hasn’t, and Steve peeks around the corner, listening. Robin is still rubbing at Eddie’s back, but he’s talking, “didn’t make any sense to come here. It’s all wrong. It all looks wrong it’s...not how we had it. Our stuffs not here,” Eddie sniffs, his voice breaking, “I thought I’d find them here.”

And then Eddie is sobbing, face buried into the cushion, sobbing so hard his whole body is hitching. He’s making noises that tear at Steve, it’s one of the worst things Steve has ever seen, such an outpouring of grief. Eddie’s so loud with it, almost wailing, barely able to breathe his chest is so wracked with it.

Steve feels absolutely useless, but Robin’s looking for him over the back of the couch, and as soon as he sees her his feet carry him over. Robin’s crying too. Steve’s pretty sure his own eyes are wet. It’s just so awful to watch. So painful, Eddie’s grief.

Steve realizes now, why Robin was so horrified. The truth of it finally sinking in now he sees the evidence of it. Eddie loved them, loved them so much that loosing them is breaking him.

Steve sits back on the couch, Eddie looking up for a second when he feels the couch dip, and suddenly he’s thrown himself at Steve, still shaking with those heaving sobs as Steve reflexively wraps his arms around him. It hurts like fuck on Steve’s broken ribs, but Steve bites it back, like fuck is reminding Eddie of that right now.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Eddie chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s making Steve’s neck wet, and his great heaving sobs make Steve arms hitch along with them. Over the fluff of Eddie’s hair, Steve sees it as Rob starts crying fully, wiping at her nose with her sleeve, her face crumpling with it.

Steve swallows thickly, trying to hold it together but knowing he’s loosing it, and he rubs at Eddie's back, telling him, "it's okay, it'll be okay," even though Steve has no idea if it is or even if it ever will be.

It feels like a small eternity before Eddie sits up and finally moves. He doesn’t look at Steve, has his eyes squeezed shut as he scrubs at his face, and when Steve reaches for him, he flinches so hard he almost falls off the couch.

Rob is there for him then, telling him, “easy, easy,” and getting Eddie up and walking him to the car, Eddie half leaning on her.

Eddie’s opening the car door before Steve even fully stops, high tailing it away like his ass is on fire. Wayne is there in the doorway of the motel room.

Easy enough to find, it’s the only motel in Hawkins, and Jon’s car is parked outside the right room.

Wayne opens the door as Steve kills the engine, and Steve watches in the dim light as Eddie practically throws himself at Wayne. He’s sobbing again, Steve can hear it.

Steve’s only half out the car, but Nancy’s there, shaking her head, “we should leave them to it.”

They’re not going to go back to sleep, but they go through the motions anyway. Steve has a shower, really feels like he needs it. He takes a few minutes extra in there, scrubbing at his face and washing his hair, being very careful of his stitches. He gets changed into sleep pants after, and a loose tee shirt, lying in bed. Even if he just lies here, at least it’s rest of some kind. The sun will be up in an hour away, and the kids had said something about helping out at the sports hall, making sandwiches and putting together bundles of emergency supplies and stuff like that.

Steve said he’d drive them.

“Come on Dingus, I can hear you thinking about it.”

“He wouldn’t even look at me, and he flinched Rob, did you see that? And then…” it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, I did but...out of all of us, you’re the one he hurt the worst. Like, way the worst. He nearly killed you, Steve. Like, literally, if Eddie had taken another ten seconds to wake up, you would have been lights out. Maybe he remembers.”

That does make sense, Steve hums in agreement, that’s got to be hard for him, “yeah.”

“Maybe it’s hard for him to see you because...well. That’s got to be a shitty memory. Plus, trauma does funny things, what if he remembers you fighting back, you know?”

And that’s true, Steve did land one good hit on Eddie with his bat, more reflexive than anything. Before Eddie had taken the thing right out of Steve’s hands and snapped it like it was nothing, that is.

So yeah, maybe, Steve figures, “he was saying sorry.”

Robin hums again.

Steve’s ribs are healed up, his stitches long gone, all his bruises and scrapes are gone. The town is, kind of, back on it’s feet. Sure, there’s probably an abnormally high number of for sale signs in Hawkins, but everyone who was going to come back has done. Enough that Steve’s got part time shifts at the video store, at least. Mostly to keep up appearances; now that it’s all over, Owen’s got them all a pay out. Essentially for damages and trauma or whatever, but also with a very clear ‘keep your mouths shut’ attached to it.

For that first month, Eddie pretty much only speaks to Dustin. He stays with Wayne, and once every couple of days he lets Dustin know that he’s okay. The message Dustin brings back is the same every time, “he’s okay, he just needs some time.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3

Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across. 

“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting. 

“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book. 

“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.” 

“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-” 

You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you. 

“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange. 

She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken. 

“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”

It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him 

To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this. 

“Please come home,” Mor begged. 

“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.” 

“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.” 

“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”

“What are you talking about?” She questions. 

“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.” 

“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.” 

“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.” 

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart…everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop. 

Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother. 

“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.” 

Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”

“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.” 

“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers. 

You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time? 

You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you. 

“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.” 

You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done? 

“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”

“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes. 

“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”

She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left. 

You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years. 

You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick. 

Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back. 

No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame. 

You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened. 

“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”

“Enjoy.”

“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”

“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”

“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.” 

Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too. 

“I can’t come back.”

“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged. 

“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”

“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.” 

“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now. 

Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest. 

“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued. 

You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares. 

“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.” 

“Y/N-”

“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”

He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”

“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden. 

The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened. 

You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days. 

He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them. 

You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them 

“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.” 

“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”

The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones.  Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around. 

A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill. 

As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life. 

Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him. 

There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”

It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being. 

“Az,” you cry out softly. 

He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him. 

“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.

“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in. 

He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay. 

He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back. 

“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.” 

Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.

Tag List

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[rileyslibrary]

Hello! I just wanted to say that your fics have such a distinct feel that it makes it feel like a cinematic masterpiece so moving as each sentence is full of detail and care it’s INSANE

Could you do one where the 141 as a whole are able to go on leave for a few months but reader doesn’t really have a place to go? Like due to thier participation in the military their family has essentially cut contact with them and the military has been a placeholder for their home-life—how would Ghost react?

Once again I love your works and hope you have an amazing day ‼️

The Log Cabin: Pack Light

A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you for your kind words. Here’s the story; enjoy! :)

———————————————————————

You’re at the base’s garage, squatting on the roof of a battle-worn 1994 Land Rover Wolf, welding a rack that had been blown apart during your last mission. It’s quite admirable how these vehicles can withstand anything coming their way and still stand strong after so many years.

How long are you going to stay strong? The sparks dance around you as you manipulate the welding torch, wishing there was a similar way to mend your scars and those you’ve hurt in the past with your decisions.

But these things are far more complex than welding metal; you can’t mend fractured relationships with mere tools. It takes understanding and empathy—qualities that seem foreign to those once close to you.

Or maybe they’re right, and you’re unworthy of their forgiveness…

You close the oxygen and fuel torch valves, lift your welding mask, and wait for the molten metal to cool. You assess the seams and sigh; it needs more work. You put the welding mask back on, reignite the torch, and continue.

As the heat emanates from the torch, glowing around your gloved hands, it suddenly flickers and sputters before its flame eventually dies out. Baffled, you lift the torch in your hands and shake it. You turn towards the valve, only to see Ghost standing beside it, holding the handle. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, though he still wears his mask and carries a rucksack over his shoulder.

“I was calling out for you, but you couldn’t hear me over the...” he trails off, pointing at the torch.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” you say through the mask, “this thing is a pain to fix.”

Ghost looks at the rack, then back at you. “Does it need to be fixed now?” He asks.

“It does.” You insist, not wanting to disclose the actual reason.

“Liar.”

Your eyebrows shoot up from behind the welding mask. “Excuse me?”

“You expect me to believe that while the rest of the team is on leave and doesn’t require that vehicle, you absolutely need to fix it.” He says.

You look at the torch and then back at him. “I must do it so it’s ready when you guys return.”

“When you guys return.” He repeats. “So, you’re not leaving.”

You forcefully turn to face him. “I am leaving.” You assert.

“Oh yeah?” He provokes you. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business, Lt.”

“See?” He says and lifts both hands, “You’re lying.”

You lower your head and throw the torch onto the roof. “What do you want me to say, huh?” You murmur, “What?”

“The truth,” he replies, “and take that bloody mask off while you’re at it.”

“Why should I take it off?” You sneer and point at his mask. “You wear yours all the time.”

“You can see my eyes, though, can’t you?” He explains and points to his face. He gestures with his head towards you. “Let me see yours,” he commands.

You roll your eyes and lift the mask. He removes his balaclava in return.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks. “What exactly are you trying to fix?”

‘My relationship with my family,’ you think to yourself and feel your face getting warmer than before when the wielding flames were burning around you.

He stands there with one thumb tucked under the rucksack’s strip. He’s waiting for an answer—a proper, truthful answer.

“This is my home.” You whisper, shrugging and lowering your head.

“What about your family?” He asks, and you shake your head, tears start filling your eyes.

“Any friends?” He asks again, this time softer.

You give him another negative shake of the head, which causes the tears to run down your face. You quickly wipe your cheeks with your gloves.

He removes his rucksack from his shoulder, drops it to the ground and puts his hands on his waist.

“Have you tried talking to them?” He asks.

“I did,” you reply, “but they don’t want anything to do with me. I disgust them, and I’m not proud either...”

“Nobody’s proud.” He admits and puts one hand on the roof’s rack, “But somebody has to do what we do.”

You sniff and rub your nose. “See? That’s why I’m here, fixing that damn rack; somebody has to do it.” You explain. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugs. “Not all of us will go see family or friends; Price is travelling to the Caribbean alone as we speak, and I’m off to Scotland.”

“With Soap?”

“Fuck no!” He yells, and a chuckle escapes his lips. “He has no idea I’m going there.”

Your lips curl up, and he returns your smile. He knocks on the vehicle’s roof twice and opens his mouth to say something, but he hesitates and stops. You decide to break the silence.

“Thank you for listening to me.” You whisper.

He bites his bottom lip and pats the roof once more.

“Wanna come with me?” He asks.

Your face warms up again but for a whole different reason.

“T-to Scotland?!” You ask, surprised.

Ghost scratches his cheek and nods. “Yeah,” he replies, “it’s a small cabin in the woods—it has a single bed, an outdoor toilet, and we’ll have to hunt for food. But it has a beautiful pond for swimming and plenty of hiking trails.”

“Wow, wow, wow, one bed?!” You shout, throwing your hands up, “That’s a bit too forward, don’t you think, Lt.?”

“Come on!” He smirks, “As if we haven’t experienced that before. We’ll make it work.”

You look at him, and he returns your gaze. You’re grateful for his offer, but doubt still lingers.

“Thank you, Lt.,” you reply, “but I need to finish that rack.”

“Bollocks!” He shouts and smiles. “How long will it take you?”

“That’s not what I mean-”

“How long?” He repeats.

“Simon..”

He drops the smile and looks you straight in the eyes.

“I’m serious,” he whispers.

“You’re just offering out of pity.” You speculate, and he throws his head up, letting out a sharp chuckle.

“Very bold of you to think I’d invite you out of mere pity.” He says. “I thought you also had plans; that’s why I didn’t offer before. I’m doing it because I found the opportunity.”

You look at him, contemplating his words, then shake your head.

“Thanks,” you say, “maybe next time.”

He picks up his rucksack and begins walking towards the garage’s exit.

“We���re leaving in an hour!” he shouts as he walks towards the door.

“Ghost! “

“Pack light!”

———————————————————————

Part 2 this way ->

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Best Friend's Brother

kai parker x reader

summary: you should've known she'd find out and it would ruin your friendship. still, you can't find it in yourself to regret it.

tags: light angst, arguing, eventual smut, rough kissing, rough sex, unsafe sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light fluff, spooning

word count: 2.1k

a/n: i wrote this like two months ago but am just now posting it. the majority of my requests are smut and i'm in a brain fog, so i'm having a bit of a struggle. still, i hope to have them out soon. bare with me! ily <33

“You slept with my brother?!”

“Liv-”

“No! You don’t understand! He’s a killer. He tried to kill me; he chased Luke and I around our house when we were four. How could you do this to me?!”

“Let me explain, Liv, I-”

“Explain what? Explain how, ‘it just happened’? How you ‘just fell into bed with him’? What is there to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it to hurt you! I would never hurt you on purpose. It just…” your words fade, “...happened.”

“Yeah. There it is. ‘Just happened.’ What, did he trick you, or manipulate you?”

“He didn’t do anything, Liv. I wanted it just as much as he did.”

She shakes her head, eyes wild, yet full of hurt. “Were you drunk? Like, I don’t understand.”

“I wasn’t drunk. I mean, I had a glass of bourbon, but I wasn’t impaired.”

“When?”

“Huh?”

“When did it happen?!”

“The other night. I was here, drinking, and he came in. We talked for a while, co-miserated, and then, just…”

“The night I was off?” She smiles, but it’s not a kind one. “Of course.”

“Liv-”

“Who initiated? Who started it? Did he advance towards you, or did you start it?”

“Olivia-”

“Who fucking started it?!”

“I don’t remember, I-”

“Who made the first fucking move, Y/N, I swear to god!”

“I don’t know! I…” You try to remember. “He kissed me first, right outside the door. Pushed me up against the building and I let him.” She exhales, but then tenses again as you say, “but I put my hand on his leg while we were still inside.”

“Y/N-”

“Our knees were touching, underneath the table, and at some point, I laughed at something, and almost fell over in my chair. I was at the bar, sitting in those tall stools. He put a hand on my arm to stabilize me, and I reached out to his leg. We both kind of stopped me from falling, but then I kept my hand there. Let it travel up his thigh… He had this dark look in his eyes, and it should’ve scared me, but it had the opposite effect. The bartender then kicked us out for being touchy, and it was late anyway, and then things just escalated from there. I’m so sorry, Liv.” You reach a hand out to comfort her. 

“Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t ever touch me again. Knowing the same hands that used to hold me when I cried fucked my brother makes me sick. I fucking hate you.”

“Liv-”

“Get out,” she points to the door. 

“Please don’t do this.”

“You did this to yourself. You can have him. Don’t come crying to me when he tries to kill you.”

“L-”

“What’s wrong?” Luke enters the bar with the worst possible timing. He looks at his sister, crying, yet bubbling with anger. He looks at you, hurt, but defensive. “What happened?”

“She was just leaving,” Liv answers for you both.

“Why? Guys, what happened?”

“She’s a bitch. She means nothing to me.”

“Liv, please.”

“Get out!” 

You shoot Luke a sympathetic glance before finally listening to his sister. The other customers in the bar are starting to watch. Most of their attentions’ were grabbed at the “fucked my brother” part, and now they’re just staying for the girl-on-girl fight. 

“Y/N,” Luke starts as you leave. 

You only shrug, then slam the door on your way out. 

You’re pissed at everyone right now. Pissed at Liv for kicking you out; at Luke for walking in when he did. You’re pissed at Kai for kissing you; at Jo for telling her sister what happened.  You’re even a little pissed at Sheila Bennett, for indirectly putting all the Parkers in Mystic Falls at the same time.

Anger, however misplaced, is still anger. 

But most of your anger is directed at the source: you. It’s your own fault that any of this happened. You started things with Kai that night. You didn’t lie well enough when Jo asked why you were late for class. You made a choice to sleep with your best friend’s brother, and of course she would be mad about it. Her twin, as always, will stand beside her, and it’s your fault that both of them will hate you now. 

You deserve it. It’s your fault for sleeping with him. 

You curse yourself bitterly. 

Another thing you’re pissed about… enjoying it. 

You liked sleeping with Kai. You liked flirting with him. You liked the darkness in his eyes, and the way he pushed you up against the brick wall. You liked the way he kissed you, hard and rough, until your lips were sore. You liked his tongue on your neck and his hand down your pants. You liked the old man smoking on the street corner telling you to get a room. 

Kai is a killer, and a sociopath, and a narcissist, and that makes him dominant, and possessive, and controlling. They’re not good traits to have in a relationship, but hell, they make for good sex. He kept a hand on your back the whole way home, and when you finally reached your apartment, he picked you up and threw you on your bed. He wasted no time climbing on top of you, trailing his hands all over your body, teasing with gentle touches you’d never expect. His jeans grew tighter and tighter with every passing minute, but when you reached up to feel him through the fabric, he slapped your hand away. 

It wasn’t until you were undressed - your clothes, ripped off and thrown to the floor - that you could touch him. He let you feel the erection in his pants for two seconds, before clasping your hands together in one of his own and pinning them above your head. Kai then had his way with your body, kissing your face and neck, sucking at your breasts, nipping at the skin down your stomach, and then licking your heated core. He held your hips down with one hand, but kept the other on your pinned hands until he needed it to push two fingers inside you. When your hands dug into his hair, he didn’t fight it. In fact, he moaned so deeply, it vibrated throughout your body. You came on his face without warning, and he didn’t slow down for a second. 

Kai didn’t let up until your body was shaking with the force of three orgasms in a row. He wore a satiated smile when he lifted his head to kiss your lips, then grabbed your jaw to open your mouth. Effortlessly, he spat a mouthful of your come and his spit, and waited for you to swallow it. You did, and what little he missed that dripped from his lip, you leaned up to lick off. He took your lips again in an open kiss while his hands worked at removing his belt. 

A smile was on his face when he broke off the kiss. Dimples were planted into the sides of his cheeks and they made you giggle. 

“You okay?” He asked, lining himself up with you.

“Mhm.”

“Words, princess.”

“Yes.”

“Atta girl.”

You sat back on your elbows as he pushed in. He was unexpectedly, suddenly, shy as he did, as if it was his first time. He was gentle, too, and watched your face, waiting for you to adjust. You nodded for him to continue before he was ready, and he took an extra few seconds before beginning to thrust. 

One hand rested beside your hips. The other, he kept on the base of his cock, because he slipped out a couple times at first. That’s when you realized it probably was his first time. After another minute, he spread your legs further and climbed more atop your body, then found his rhythm.

It was a very human-like thing for him to do. For him to learn sex is a matter of trial and error. You could feel your heart falling for him in that simple moment. Your mind, sober, as the alcohol wore off a bit ago; your thoughts, recognizing you’re on your bed, with Kai Parker on top of you, and you like it. 

He was a quick learner. He found he'd slip up less if he only pulled out halfway before thrusting back in. He paid attention to angles and how to hit the deepest parts of you. He acknowledged the sounds and faces you’d make in reaction to his movements. When your nose scrunched up, you liked it less; when your lips parted, you were much more pleasured.

Kai was nothing if not observant. In less than an hour, he had learned how to read you. 

He brought two fingers to your clit and rubbed harshly. He’d spit on your stomach and watch it run down your body, slick with sweat. Sweat would drip down his own face, too, as he fucked you hard into your bed.

But despite the skill he had procured, his thrusts got sloppy much too soon. It was obvious he was trying to hold off his high, but with each moan that escaped his lips, you could tell he was close. He wrapped his lips around your tits and sucked harshly, whether to shut himself up or bring you to another high, you weren’t sure. After only another minute, he came. He scrambled to pull himself out, not knowing what kind of protection you had, but knowing he had worn none. Half of it spilled onto your stomach, but some was missed; you could feel it inside you. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. 

He bent his head down to lap it up. What he could reach with his tongue, he retrieved, but some expertly evaded. The feeling of him exploring your hot and sore core brought you to the fourth orgasm you almost missed by him pulling out early. You bucked your hips upward, overstimulation searing throughout your body, but he pushed you back down on the bed. 

“Kai, I can’t,” you told him, tears pricking at your eyes, almost fearing a fifth.

Luckily, he only swiped his tongue around once more before drawing it out. Then, he licked a stripe up your stomach, tasting his own cum mixed with yours. It flooded his taste buds and he swallowed it before licking up more for you to try. By that time, you expected his next move. When he grabbed your jaw to force open your mouth, you stuck your tongue out to receive. He smiled before spitting the mixture inside, then slapped your pretty little cheek gently as it went down your throat. 

It took you a second to recover, both of you. Kai had collapsed to your side as you lay flat, and the both of you fought to regain your breath. After a moment, you turned your body in to face him, and took his cheeks in your hands. You were about to speak when he asked you a question,

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” There was no hesitation in your voice, and it was true. You didn’t even regret the lack of protection you both neglected to remember. “Do you?”

“No.” He looked intently into your eyes. “Were you going to say something?”

“Just that you look absolutely beautiful post-high.” This was also true. His eyes had this glossy look about them that was stunning. Not to mention the sweat glistening his cheeks, or even the redness in his face from the exhilaration. 

He smiled in response to the unexpected praise, and the dimples returned to his face. You couldn’t help the soft kiss with which you’d grace his lips in the next moment, and he wasn't able to help the blush that burns him even brighter. 

“You’re gorgeous, too,” he complimented. “I’ve been watching you for a while. Hoped to talk to you, but didn’t think I’d get lucky enough to get this far.”

“Blame the shot of confidence I needed to talk to you for that,” you joked. “It got me further than I thought, too. Not that I’m complaining.”

He chuckled, then moved his face to kiss your fingers, still on his cheeks. 

“I have class tomorrow,” you muttered, realization hitting you. 

“I guess I should go then.” He didn’t get up, but voiced it as a question. 

You, shyly but genuinely, responded, “you could stay.”

And so he did. A quick shower, separate due to soreness, was the only thing to drag you out of bed, but then you crashed right back in it in a new change of clothes. Kai spent the night with you, spooning your back with an arm wrapped protectively around your body. It wasn’t until late the next morning that you woke up, late for class, and hurrying to leave. Within an hour, you departed at the same time, but not without a promise to meet again soon. 

[demigod-shenanigans]

Jason, Piper and Leo trying to play one of these elementary school jump rope games on the Argo 2

I was trying to figure out how to write this as a snippet however it’s been ages since I myself have last done a jump rope game and it turns out I have no idea what I’m doing so I hope it’s okay in headcanon/summary form instead! The good news is that way it’s gonna be a bit longer which I hope will be nice :)

-This is most definitely happening on the way from Camp Half-Blood to New Rome. Everyone’s got a lot of nervous energy and there is so much riding on all this and also Leo and Piper are about to meet Jason’s first family/former friends for the first time and everyone is stressed about it!

-Piper initially suggests it as a way for them to distract themselves and get some excess energy out. Leo is immediately down. Jason is just confused because he’s never done jump rope games before and asks if it’s a training exercise. Piper and Leo just stare at him

-Alternatively, if Jason is just pacing/wanting to be alone for a bit pre getting to New Rome, maybe Leo and Piper are doing it on their own at first (potentially like a Buddy Jumping thing where they both hold one end of the rope and try to jump synchronized. They’re very bad at it) and Jason eventually walks in on this and just stands there being all ????

-I think they have children’s games in New Rome to be clear I just don’t think jump rope is that common (also even if it was, Jason probably wouldn’t remember it due to the whole wiped memories incident combined with him being a child soldier/terminal workaholic)

-Either way, Leo promptly declares it’s his and Piper’s Sacred Duty to teach Jason jump rope games until they get to New Rome to help distract him

-Also for the record they’re not using an actual jump rope. Someone would have had to pack that and no one did. They’re using whatever kind of workshop rope Leo’s tool belt gave them when prompted.

-Piper and Leo swing for a bit and at first they’re really baffled that Jason seems to be way too good at this for someone who’s never done it before, until one of them is like hang on and suddenly notices Jason is just. Floating slightly above the ground so that’s why he has no trouble avoiding the swinging rope

-Jason does not understand what he’s doing wrong since he thought the point was just to avoid the rope. They explain it again and Jason is like “oh okay so it’s like a leg exercise thing I get it now” Leo has his head in his hands going “it’s not a training exercise dude it’s just for fun!”

-Jason is way worse now and also comments at least once that actually this isn’t even fun but he does kind of enjoy it and also just appreciates the distraction (he does totally still think of it as a sort of training exercise but honestly that probably just means he enjoys it more for that reason. Not that he’ll admit that to Leo and Piper tho)

-When Piper and Jason swing the rope for Leo, Leo keeps insisting that Jason use the winds to make the rope go faster because he’s good at this and wants to show off. It does not end well. Piper actually does better than Leo and he is very grumpy about it

-By the end of this whole thing they’re all in a heap on the floor tangled in the rope but they’re also laughing so that was totally worth it

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 21/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTYONE

                Vi enters the kitchen looking worried and he’s immediately concerned that something is going wrong front of house. She’s good, but there are still so many moving parts that she can’t catch everything. There are people that think they’re together, with how they’re portrayed on TV, and obviously the more they deny it the more people think they’re actively trying to hide it, so they’ve given up denying at least and just saying no comment. It’s easier and they’re not that exciting really, they have to lose interest eventually.

                “Leonardo…” Vi starts and one of his eyebrows shoots up. Italian it is then. She wants to say something and not have others understand. “There’s a guy out front saying he wants to talk to you. Says he’s your uncle?”

                For the briefest of seconds he thinks it might be Mav, but no, it has to be Ice. Mav wouldn’t say uncle, he always used godfather.

                “Tall guy. Looks really fucking intimidating?” Bradley asks, already untying his apron and straightening his top.

                “Oh. So you do know him?”

                “Yeah. Come on, let me introduce you to my Uncle Ice.”

                “Ghiaccio,” Vi offers, clearly thinking he’s forgotten the Italian word for ice and he laughs and shakes his head.

                “No. Not ghiaccio. His name is Ice. Or Tom actually I guess.”

                “Oh. Oh this is, he’s your… okay. Yeah. I want to meet him properly.”

…            …            …           

                “You said you don’t scare easy… guess it’s time to prove it.”

                “Gladly,” Bradley says, because he’s faced down far scarier people, and done it without anyone by his side. Jake grips his hand, and he’s not sure if it’s to show him support, or because he himself needs the physical touch right now. Regardless Bradley pauses and pulls Jake into a quick hug, presses a kiss to his forehead. “It’ll be fine.” He’s got two bags of food in his other hand, and Jake is balancing the cake in his free hand

                Jake nods sharply, sucks in a breath and rolls his shoulders back, like it’s not his own family home he’s about to enter and he wonders why Jake is so nervous. He squeezes his hand and the smile and nod he gets almost has him laughing with how reassuring Jake is trying to look. It’s fucking adorable and he hopes for Jake’s sake it’s all going to go smoothly, so he’ll be friendly and helpful and charm them all. He knows he can put on the charm, Maria already likes him and Jake had seemed to think she was going to be one of the hardest to impress.

                Maria had sent him a series of messages, letting him know she’s informed her siblings exactly who Jake was suddenly dating. That Jake called him Leo, so they could call him Leo or Bradley. She’s also explained to them that Jake seems to either not know the extent of Bradley’s fame, or simply doesn’t care, either way they all needed to be equally chill. She’s told him that Olivia is excited to meet him again, and the fact that he has met her before on the previous Saturday at the farmers market makes him feel even more prepared. That’s almost half of Jake’s sisters right there.

                He follows Jake and the door opens in front of them, like they’ve been watched the entire time and he isn’t surprised. A man is standing there, much too young to be Jake’s father, and he’s reaching out to take the cake from Jake’s hands.

                “I am under very strict instructions to rescue this cake and then protect it with my life… I’m Daniel by the way. Sandra’s husband. You see kids running around they’re also mine…”

                “Bradley,” he offers, dropping Jake’s hand to shake his, and then Maria is there, taking the cake from Daniel like she doesn’t trust him to hold it and Bradley grins at her.

                “Hey Maria.”

                “Bradley. Nice to see you again… thank you for this,” she says, eyes alight with glee and Bradley grins. He always likes making food for people who really appreciate it and Maria has got an excellent grasp of flavors so he hopes it lives up to her expectations.

                “I, uh, made a bit more food and thought I’d bring it along. Rickard –”

                “Oh. Do you have some of his salsas?”

                “Yeah. And fresh corn chips.”

                “Perfect. Come on through. Ignore the chaos.”

                Bradley isn’t quite sure what chaos she’s referring to but then he follows them out the back and then there are kids running around and then there are three women all standing there, all looking at him with varying degrees of skepticism and interest. He smiles and passes his bags to Maria, explains the additional food and is grateful to learn that it’ll go well with what she has planned. That they’d already done a bunch of stuff for lunch so he’s not contributing to over catering. Then she’s waving him off and Jake is hovering awkwardly and Bradley reaches for him, feels him settle a little as he wraps his arm around his waist.

                “Olivia right? Nice to see you again.”

                “Yeah. Hi.”

                Then he’s meeting Sandra and Nicola, who seem cooly polite, especially compared to Maria and Olivia’s much warmer friendliness. Jake hadn’t been wrong, there is a weird feeling, and he can only guess it’s the emotional upheaval of the day. He’d suggested, both to Jake and also Maria via messages, that maybe it could be postponed and told in very uncertain terms that that was not going to be happening. Also it’s an early dinner because many of them will get up early to be at the market to set up first thing in the morning. His offer of help has not been accepted. This time.

                There is no sign of Jake’s father, or Amanda, but no one is saying anything, so he stands there and makes small talk about the different places he’s travelled to, apparently a topic of conversation which they’ve all deemed appropriately safe. Jake is tugged away to play by his nieces and nephew and it’s very clear from both the torn look on Jake’s face that he wants to go as much as he doesn’t want to leave Bradley unattended with his sisters. Fortunately whatever expression he’s wearing and the expectant look on Sandra’s face have Jake heading out to the garden to throw and kick balls around, throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder as he goes.

                “So. Bradley.”

                “Yeah.”

                “You seem… normal.”

                “I… I’m sorry? Was that meant to be a compliment or an insult?”

                “Neither. Simply an observation. You’re not quite like how I imagined.”

                “What you imagined? Let me guess… someone hard to please and with a short fuse?”

                “Well, that is how you’re portrayed.”

                “Short fuse, yeah, when I was younger maybe. Definitely now when I’m stressed. But… no. Not me at all. Just what they choose to show of me. Sometimes I play it up when they ask me too….”

                “I knew it!” Olivia declares and Bradley shoots her a quick grin. “And Sandra only watched highlights on YouTube last night, I think she focused on a compilation one which just shows you yelling at people.”

                Bradley pulls a face, because he’s not a fan of those moments, but he also knows that a lot of people are. Then he hears the door open again and everyone turns toward it and there is another woman, one who is carrying a large bag and a baby and this has to be Amanda and her son Lincoln.

                “Holy shit. Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “He is.” “Do you not read your messages?” “Mandy!”

                “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

                “Holy shit, Maria, you weren’t joking.”

                “Does she usually?” Bradley asks, looks to Maria who is rolling her eyes.

                “Well… no. I just thought maybe you were a guy that just looked like him. Rather than actually being him…”

                “I’m actually him. Have been my whole life.”

                “Except for when you go by Leonardo,” Sandra states and Bradley shrugs.

                “I’m both Leo and Bradley, same person. I answer to both equally. I just usually expect Leo to be followed with a stream of Italian…”

                “Jake’s been learning Italian.”

                “He told me,” Bradley says, tries not to feel too smug about the fact.

                “Anyway, I’m Amanda. It’s nice to meet you.”

                “Nice to meet you too. And this must be Lincoln…”

                “He doesn’t like strangers…” Amanda says, already apologetic as if her son is about to scream in his face and Bradley shrugs. He likes kids, but he isn’t going to make grabby hands for a baby he’s just met, or a mom who has just met him. “Huh. Apparently you don’t make him scream. So yeah. Here,” and then he’s having a baby foisted onto him and he cradles the small body against his chest automatically, looks at her in surprise only to find all five sisters now grinning and it’s so similar to Jake’s it is a little unnerving.

                “So, you like kids?”

                “Yeah. Big family. Lots of cousins.”

                “Hmm.”

…            …            …

                Jake isn’t sure what his insides are doing when he sees Leo holding Lincoln, but he does know he needs to immediately capture it on his phone, quickly takes a snap and realizes it’s the first picture he’s taken of Leo. Nicola and Amanda are both smirking at him, and he turns back to Daniel, can’t even subtly give them the finger with the kids around. He sees his sisters move as a pack, Leo trailing after them with Lincoln still in his arms and Daniel jerks his head.

                “Go on, go rescue him and see if your sisters need any help…”

                “Like they’ll let me help,” Jake mutters under his breath, but he slopes off and tries not to feel too bad at the disappointment from his niblings as he leaves them to their games. Of course, he should have prepared himself better, gets almost to the kitchen to find that they’re not grilling Leo about himself, they’re grilling him about Jake. What the hell, that’s not the way it’s meant to go. He stands just out of the way, catches Leo’s eye and the little wink which makes his stomach do a little flip.

                “Wait. Jake’s cooked for you? How did that go?”

                “He’s a perfectly good cook,” Leo states, ducking his head.

                “Could you taste anything other than sauce?”

                “He cooks to survive, not to enjoy…”

                “He didn’t put any sauce on mine. And I enjoyed not having to cook.”

                “Wow. Must be true love.”

                “It ain’t blind, it has no taste…”

                “And I’m working on making him a sauce…”

                “You’re what?”

                “Oh my god, you’re going to make him sauce… He’s going to get his own signature sauce. Of course he is.”

                “I don’t know if that’s sweetly romantic or sickeningly romantic…”

                “So sweet it makes you sick?”

                “Bingo. That’s it…”

                “You’re all just jealous,” Jake declares, and they all jump a little, turning to look at him and he scoops Lincoln from Leo’s arms, surprised but pleased when Leo gives him a kiss, catches the pleased look a couple of his sisters shoot him and feels warm inside. They’re moving food to the table, setting out plates and tableware. Their dad is apparently less than five minutes away so his window of being able to be a little inappropriate is closing rapidly.

                “And you can stay jealous. He makes me breakfast in bed too.”

                “Yeah. I wonder why,” Nicola says dryly, and there are so many snorts and huffs of amusement he can’t tell if any of them didn’t, including Leo. Traitor.

                “I don’t mind making breakfast for everyone one morning…”

                “You’re not making any of my sisters a morning after breakfast!”

                “I made you a morning after breakfast…” Leo states, and Jake blinks at him, but his sisters, for the most part, are all cackling like mad and while the idea of Leo teaming up with his sisters should scare him, it instead thrills a part of him, that they already getting on well enough to hassle him.

                “Yeah. For…” Jake looks around, and his nieces and nephew have come inside and are all looking at him avidly and he slumps back against the bench. “Fine. Cook for whoever you want.”

                “Oh my god. Can you make me eggs benedict?”

                “He’s not your personal chef!” Jake grumbles, and for some reason this makes Leo laugh and kiss the side of his face again.

…            …            …

                He’s coming back from the bathroom, ready to eat when he nearly bumps into someone in the entryway taking off their boots. This must be Jake’s father.

                “Oh. Sorry sir. I didn’t see you there.”

                “You… You’re Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Yes sir?”

                “I’m sorry. What are you doing here exactly?”

                “Uh. I’m Jake’s…” he waves a hand, suddenly at a loss for words. Wants to say boyfriend, however it feels to juvenile, but partner is far too serious and Vi is his literal business partner. “Date?” Bradley asks, wondering what Jake’s father has been told exactly.

                “I thought Maria told me your name was Leonardo…”

                “You can call me Bradley sir, Leonardo is my Italian name, and it’s the name I used the first time I met Jake.”

                “Huh. You can call me Chuck. Nice to meet you, Bradley. Of all the young men Jake could bring home he brings home you. Kinda funny.”

                “Uh…” Bradley isn’t quite sure what to do or say in reply to that.

                “Sorry. My wife loves watching you cook is all.”

                “Oh.” Oh.

                “I mean, I’ve seen some of them so often I can probably transcribe them, but Jenna really enjoys it. Especially when you yell at people.”

                “Oh, I don’t really…”

                “It’s fine son, I’m well aware it’s likely dramatized to make it more interesting. But she seems to think you’re well justified in your yelling. We enjoy watching it together and just… of all the people that Jake could have started dating he somehow picked one that his mother has a chance of recognizing. I’m assuming he told you about her.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “Less of the sir, just Chuck will do. He’s got no idea you’re on TV does he?”

                “I don’t believe so sir.”

                “Huh. Yeah, that boy never liked watching TV growing up. Being outdoors was where he wanted to be. School was a challenge, until they could teach him why things would be useful. You got yourself a handful there,” Chuck says, then shoots Bradley a wink. “And if I find out you’ve been inappropriate with my baby I’ll have you know I own a shotgun!” he says much louder and Bradley hears Jake’s exasperated dad! And he can’t help but laugh.

                It’s not what he was expecting, to simply be accepted and welcomed with open arms reminds him so deeply of the Gallo family it almost hurts in the best type of way. Because there’s also the edges of happy craziness and banter going around and the deep love they have for each other. When Jake kisses him all he gets are self-indulgent smiles aimed in their general direction. Yeah. He could get used to being part of this family too.

TWENTYTWO

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 17

only nearly 50% of the way through this book and we’re already on day four. and the description that ‘Hot Sauce draws her gun’ on this day is very ominous

‘That fucking shuttle’ Palamedes i am not as smart as you, i am both very concerned and totally clueless about what Palamedes realised about the shuttle. i guess my main theories are Pyrrha has either been taken/went willingly for some unknown reason to the Emperor’s shuttle, or she’s been taken into BoE custody for some reason??

from We Suffer’s perspective i guess it makes sense that she wants Nona to be Harrow, because despite their overall perspective on necromancy, having a Lyctor who could actually help them fight against the Houses could be incredibly helpful for BoE. at least i hope its that because Harrow did help kill an awful lot of planets in the last book, and i imagine some of BoE might want revenge

ohhhhmfg Pal and Cam’s situation is so tragic. Palamedes has technically survived but from his perspective he’s doing exactly what he rejected so firmly in GtN, killing her. this is just cruel 

and for all my theorising about Nona i didn’t consider what Pal suggests here, that Nona’s some kind of full soul merger of Harrow and Gideon. for starters i think its unlikely, given Nona has her similarities but is very different in many unique ways to both of them. and on a more personal level i just hope thats not the case because i like my character’s souls unmerged please and thank you

i wonder if Nona’s going to be able to do something about the RB eventually, given she seems to be able to understand it. also describing it as ‘low[ing] sadly, like a cow’ feels like a very pointed comparison given John apparently killed a whole bunch of cows a couple chapters ago. i mean i have no clue what the fuck it could mean or why but it feels significant 

i’m still very intrigued as to whose side the Angel is on. based on her story here she’s clearly not associated with the Houses, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s with BoE either. she’s kind to Nona and a good teacher to the kids seemingly but i still think she’s suspicious and don’t fully trust her 

the absolute irony of John’s motivations apparently being to save the Earth and everyone from climate change, only to years later be killing planets and using them for mining 

‘An interesting group, your family’ ohhh shit, first Hot Sauce and now the Angel seem to be taking note of the strangeness of Nona’s situation. and i’m curious whats up with Hot Sauce and the Angel’s relationship, what with her having already told Hot Sauce the survival advice she gives the rest, and Hot Sauce being so determined to look out for her. i wonder if Hot Sauce has confided in the Angel about Nona’s cut not healing, and thats why they seem suspicious of Nona’s family here

oooh is Nona’s drawing that seems to disturb the Angel an awful lot her drawing her dreams, of Gideon maybe?

oh the kid’s plan and swearing this oath is going to go so so badly. i feel like there’s no way they’re not gonna find out Nona’s related to necromancy sooner rather than later

wtf Hot Sauce is very ruthlessly practical about Born in the Morning’s dads being ‘baggage’. its  hard to believe she’s roughly the same age as Jeannemary was in GtN. like don’t get me wrong, Jeannemary went through an awful lot but she and Isaac were also ‘annoying teens’ in the way Hot Sauce really hasn’t gotten to be 

[autumnmobile12]

I’m hoping that as Nocturne continues, that there might be some eventual parallels between Alucard and Richter.

I’ve mentioned in another post I don’t really like Richter.  I’m not going to reiterate the entire thing, but the long and short of it is I found his character unnecessarily mean-spirited.  Some of his dialogue really rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t find his lines all that funny.  But it’s this specific line to Tera that sealed the deal with me disliking him.

“And you just happened to stumble upon it one day while you were out picking flowers?”

Um, what the fuck?  She raised you, gave you a safe place to grow up, has been a surrogate mother to you, and has shown you nothing but kindness and support, and you’re going to talk to her like that?  What an asshole.

And this is the difference between Richter and Trevor’s characters.  Trevor is an asshole, but did he ever talk to Sypha or her grandfather this way?  No.  Did he talk to Alucard this way?  Well…yeah, but also observe Alucard also woke up snarky and began insulting him from minute one, so we can argue they are delightfully matching each other’s energy with a vengeance.

But I’m not gonna lie…for the first two seasons, I also didn’t like Alucard’s character all that much and for the same reasons.  I’m a little biased as I generally don't like protagonists who are just mean for no reason.  We all know someone like that in real life, whether they’re a relative or a co-worker or a boss, so why deal with it in fiction?  Okay yeah, I get that it’s often part of a character arc and symbolism for growth and finding maturity.  I understand why storylines like this are necessary, but I’m still gonna hate the little shits for the duration they’re assholes.

So Alucard…the way he treats Trevor in the first two seasons is also pretty crappy behavior.

“I imagine one sacrifices a chicken, and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines. Maybe Belmont has a crystal ball in here you could ask. ….  Your ancestors were apparently mentally ill hoarders.  I fully expect to find family cats mummified under some of these shelves.  Unless your family preferred to eat them.”

You’re gonna talk to your comrade like that…in his own home…where his entire family was brutally slaughtered by a mob....possibly right in front of him?  Yeah, real charming, Alucard.  And this is the tone for his character in the beginning.  There is the point where Sypha calls him out and tells him to stop testing Trevor, but I think there’s another element at play.  “…and he’s a drunk and he’s self-destructive and anyone trying to hold on to him may as well be dragged down with him.”  He isn’t just testing him, he’s judging him and he’s already decided he’s a useless drunk who got lucky and happened to win a few fights.

All right, now that I’ve dragged him through the mud, I’m going to pull back and assess the wider perspective of Alucard’s full character arc.  Alucard’s growth follows the line of the spoiled brat who experienced hardship and had to grow up because of it.  I think Alucard lived a very sheltered life before his mother died, and his actions and dialogue in the Belmont Hold are the strongest indicator to this.  We clearly see he’s disgusted by the trophies and the history of murder against the vampires, and he is not shy about voicing his contempt towards the family’s entire purpose.  He’s right, though.  With the presence of the infant skull in the display case, we do get the very subtle nod that the Belmonts, for all their claims of virtue and protecting humanity, have also committed atrocities.  He does have a right to his anger against Trevor and his family.

But what’s absent from Alucard’s character here is the fact he doesn’t seem to consider the atrocities the vampires have committed against his mother’s people.  To the vampires, humans are food, livestock, and a lesser species.  Godbrand brutally murders several humans in his flashback with no clear intent on actually eating them, so he kills for sport.  Cho torments the humans in her court by amusing herself with duels to the death that only she can win.  Not a humane way to treat the vampire equivalent of livestock.  And exactly how long does Erzsebet Báthory keep those girls chained up while she drains them of blood?

Why does Alucard condone what the vampires do to humans and at the same time condemns the Belmonts for hunting the vampires?

The answer:  I don’t think he did because I don’t think he was fully aware of these scenarios.  Think about it, he had no knowledge of Dracula’s Generals and the only thing he talked about regarding his father was the tragedy of his madness and how killing him would be destroying centuries of knowledge.  I think Dracula wanted him to have a peaceful life and fed him the more rosy-colored version of their history.  Maybe he intended to tell him one day, and that day kept being put off by the sentiment,  “He’s a boy.  Let him continue to be a boy.”

Alucard lives his peaceful childhood until it comes to a screeching halt when Lisa is killed, so I honestly think there is an innocence behind his upbringing that gave him a very clear bias against the Belmonts that was completely justified in some elements and not so much in others.  There’s also the point that he keeps referencing Trevor as a drunk, which is very much condescension.  It’s not until Season 3, after he’s experienced his traumas and has fallen into his own slump of grief that his attitude towards Trevor changes.   There’s still ribbing between the pair, but it’s not the same cutting remarks that we saw back in Season 2.  Alucard walked a mile in Trevor’s shoes, and that mile was bitter.

...

So where I stand with Nocturne:  Richter has started off in a way similar to Alucard.  He lost his mother at a young age, but aside from that, he grew up safe and loved in a stable home, has a good relationship with Tera and Maria, and has otherwise led a relatively peaceful life. Even in the midst of the French Revolution, they don't seem like suffering peasants.  Like Alucard before his world truly went to hell, Richter also didn’t have a full concept of what real hardship looks like.  This is apparent when he’s all confidence and bravado, going around and yelling he’s the ‘last of the Belmonts’ and he ‘kills vampires’ and “Who’s next?”  And then Olrox shows up and he cows him right back into the scared, little boy he’s pretending he’s not.

And so not only is there a parallel between Richter and Alucard, but there is also a big one between Trevor and Annette.  Both of them have suffered through their own individual hardships, both losing their loved ones in some of the most brutal ways imaginable, but those same hardships gave them their pride and their poignant maturity and cynicism in how they see the world.  Granted, the difference between Trevor and Annette is she never lost her purpose or her will to fight despite having been dealt the worse lot of having been born a slave, but still…Trevor never ran away from his nightmares like Richter did.  Even though Annette and Trevor have their moments when they are scared, both of them stood up and said,  “Fuck it, I have a bastard to kill and if I die killing them, so be it.”  They don’t give an absolute damn.  They took their pain and they wore it like armor.

“Killing you was the point.  Living was a luxury.”

“If I let my past terrify me, I’d never be free of it.”

…

Compared to them, Richter is a spoiled brat who has yet to grow up.

And I think Alucard’s going to be right there with him saying,  “Don’t worry.  I was like you once and we’ll get there together.”

[secondstar-acorn]

there is so much shame and humiliation entwined in how heaven and hell treat aziraphale (“you pathetic excuse for an angel” “the softest touch, the one who went native. do you need more big human meals, aziraphale?”) and it makes so much sense that he would internalise that (“I’m..soft”) and desperately keep trying to be better—which I think is why he tells crowley when he’s done something good/clever, because he wants to be affirmed and he knows crowley won’t insult him (“but do you really think it went well?” “absolutely”). so of course, of COURSE the metatron getting him coffee and drinking coffee is something he sees as an affirmation of him as a good, respectable angel (“I’ve ingested things in my time, you know”) when every other angel and demon has treated him terribly for it.

and when the metatron tells him he can restore crowley, aziraphale is thrilled because he assumes that crowley, like himself, feels ashamed and humiliated by his status as a fallen angel (as aziraphale was so afraid of in the job chapter); that crowley, like him, wants affirming. that he wants to be told that he is good, and he’s done well, and he’s not wrong, just misjudged. when crowley says that they’re on their own side, aziraphale hears: “we both want to be in heaven, but there are certain things we disagree with.” and what crowley says is “we’re not heavenly or hellish, we’re our own people, and we never have to follow orders again.” their exactlys are two different exactlys.

“oh we’re better than that, you’re better than that, angel, you don’t need them, I certainly don’t need them!” crowley has had thousands of years to process his heavenly trauma; to realise that what god did to him was cruel—“but to be able to even ask the question” is a longing statement which eventually turns angry as the years pass. he assumes, because they’re on their own side, that aziraphale has processed his trauma as well; that he’s also realised the institutional problems with heaven, because they don’t TALK. and when aziraphale tells him what the metatron said, of course crowley is angry. because the person he loves hasn’t figured it out. he’s still stuck in this abusive cycle, and it’s so frustrating, because “how can someone as smart as you be so stupid?” aziraphale is better than them, why can’t he see that?

and aziraphale. well, he’s been shamed and humiliated by what is ultimately his family, yes, but the metatron does the same things he does, so they can’t be all bad. and if to speak to the metatron is to speak to god, then god must approve of him too. god must forgive him, too, which means crowley can be forgiven. the other angels just don’t understand god, but now that aziraphale does, he can “make a difference.” he and crowley, as misunderstood angels. because crowley has never been a demon to aziraphale, not since job, not since edinburgh, especially not since 1941. and so for aziraphale, “nothing lasts forever” is a statement full of hope. he and crowley will be forgiven, their hiding and their arrangement forgiven, and this horrible shame he’s felt all his existence will not last forever. they’ll finally be approved, in the eyes of heaven. affirmed. just like aziraphale wants.

but for crowley. oh, for crowley. “nothing lasts forever” is crushing. they’ve spent their existence pretending not to be friends, to not care about each other, and in the past four years it’s been better. they’ve been free, and crowley couldn’t work out what was missing until nina and maggie told him. and now he’s trying to say it. he “could always rely” on aziraphale, could always trust him the way he no longer trusts god, or heaven, or hell. he can be himself with aziraphale and take off the glasses. but aziraphale said nothing lasts forever: earth, the bookshop, them. their “us”. he can’t trust aziraphale anymore. he can’t rely on him. so he puts the sunglasses on, puts his walls up again.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.” forgiveness, another chance, a life together as the angels aziraphale has always seen them as, freedom from humiliation. “I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.” trapped again, back with the god who hurled crowley down and forsook him, both of them stuck following orders.

aziraphale still doesn’t understand what crowley is trying to tell him. the nightingales, the us. so he kisses him, like humans do, because that’s got to do something. it has to mean something. “one fabulous kiss and we’re good.” aziraphale reads romance novels, he’ll know what it means. it will fix this.

but it doesn’t.

“I forgive you.” for not going to heaven, for forsaking god, for loving him but not choosing him. for staying on the side of evil once and for all—because even though crowley isn’t with hell, he’s not with heaven.

“don’t bother.” crowley doesn’t want to be forgiven. he doesn’t need god, he doesn’t need heaven, and he doesn’t need. well.

and that makes aziraphale angry, because he’s offering crowley everything he thought he wanted for as long as he’s known him, and he’s realising just now that they’re not the same, not at all, and then the metatron comes in and affirms that. “always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions too.” crowley’s a fool, aziraphale. a rebel who doesn’t understand what he’s being offered. he’s just a fool. you’re not, aziraphale. you’re intelligent, a good leader. “I can’t think of a better angel.” aziraphale is finally affirmed by the highest authority, and in being affirmed, crowley is put down. aziraphale will fix things and make the world right again, and he won’t even have to think of crowley. because he’s back to what he wanted.

and crowley leaves and drives off because that’s all he’s ever done. aziraphale has betrayed him like god has, so he’s got to go his own way. he has to be on his own side, just like always. he’s back to where he started. without aziraphale, he’s lonely again. and he’ll just have to accept that.

[knifedog-machina]

Android Abnormalities

Species dysphoria, but the “wrong” way, ft. my borderline personality disorder

J: so you know how my source is technically Detroit: Become Human? you know how we fucking hate that title? you know how we’ve made fun of it multiple times? unfortunately it's a mood! I also hate this!

Hey! This essay is about how incredibly uncomfortable I feel in my own skin around common android tropes, in media and some of its reflections in robotic identities and experiences, featuring reasons for why I'm like this, and a helpful suggestion for what I want readers to do about it at the end of the piece. I really hope this reaches someone who feels the same way so I can point at them like Same Hat!

-

I first noticed this problem on October 30, 2023, when we stumbled across a fanfic on Archive of Our Own. It was an alternate universe of a TV show we've never seen before, but it was written by an author we liked, and it was an android AU. That's fun! We thought it would just be a quick read, something to idly talk about after lunch.

Well, uh. Nope. I was co-fronting while Max read, and the more we read, the more… weirdly uncomfortable I felt. It wasn't actively distressing, but it made me feel weird, so I stopped reading halfway through to talk about it with some friends.

I'm not gonna link the fic, because Tumblr is weird about links, but for my own future reference, it's “persona ex machina” by BirchBow. It was a really good fic, we thoroughly enjoyed it! I just have - hangups, I guess?

I think I was uncomfortable that, on the surface, it seems… really close to my experiences. Like, the protagonist, Chuck, is an android made to mimic humans, and he’s made to be a combat unit. He’s scared of what might happen to him if he fails to meet expectations. Technicians operate on him, put him back together. He's made by a corrupt corporation for fucked up purposes. He eventually defects from the corrupt corporation, with the help of some really kind people. That’s all really similar to me.

But it's different. Because as much as Chuck was designed to look human, he still had to be taught how to act human, how to feel. The way he emotes is off at first and he has to recalibrate, not look so stiff, learn how to smile and laugh and understand what different emotions mean. He automatically runs through the technical terms for something before working to turn it into common vernacular as it reaches his mouth. And this is a typical android trope, you know? The machine doesn’t intrinsically understand emotions, so humans have to teach them.

I’m… really, really not like that. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t feel too much. Every memory I have, even in blurred out mental snapshots of beta testing, it’s all drowning in emotions that I couldn’t articulate and wasn’t supposed to express. I looked at my siblings, who were so stoic and professional around humans it was like they were different people entirely, and I knew I was supposed to be less emotional. People always just assumed they were better than me, because they were better at code-switching to what was expected of androids, because they could keep their mouths shut on the job.

So I’ve always felt like I was bad at being an android. Androids aren’t supposed to feel emotions, not really, not to the extremes that I do. That’s a predisposition for deviancy. And I was made this way on purpose, I was made to “mimic” deviants to earn their trust, but I wasn't meant to be like that all the time. I tried to repress my emotions, it just never worked.

And I don’t see androids like me, in the media we’ve watched and read and listened to. It’s not really a characterization that lends itself to exploring what it means to be a person, right? Machines are supposed to be logical and unfeeling, to contrast with humanity’s irrationality - they’re supposed to be better than that. And when the machine starts having emotions, it's treated as a flaw, or a breakthrough. Wow, you feel things about the world around you, you’re a person now!

I’ve never been logical in my fucking life. I have a laundry list of reasons for why, but for now, I’ll focus on the BPD. I have borderline personality disorder, because of the way my brain is wired and how that interacted with my traumatic experiences.

One of the symptoms of BPD is emotional dysregulation. I’m not just bad at repressing my emotions, I also experience those emotions as more extreme and overwhelming than a neurotypical person would. I keep finding myself affected by things that the people around me brush off, and I have to remind myself that it doesn’t mean I’m overreacting, it means that I’m literally feeling shittier emotions.

Another symptom of BPD is an unstable sense of identity - and this is really where we’re getting into how these traits and tropes affect me. Because I don’t relate at all to these androids on the screen. They’re as foreign and separate from me as they are to the humans sitting across from them in the shot.

I do relate to the humans. I do relate to seeing an android do something in the name of pure cold logic and going, “Why? What the fuck, why?” I do relate to being told I’m irrational. (The trope that all robots are logical feels like it was designed to make me feel like the most irrational, bitchy, hysterical piece of shit on Earth.)

So, what, does that make me human? If I'm going by the adage that wanting to be something is a sign of being that thing, then… I don’t know, maybe? I want to be human, I so badly want to be human, because here’s the thing, humanity is diverse. Humans are flawed, messy, weird, complicated, and defy categories every fucking day of their lives. Humans can be weird, ridiculous, fucked up people and they’re allowed to be.

And let me bring this back around to alterhumanity. If I say I’m an android, people will make assumptions about what that means about me. People go, “Hey, you're a robot, you must have one of these common robot experiences!” and I just don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m coming at it from the opposite direction? The machines and robots and androids that I tend to see around, the ones who talk about their identity, they often identify as fully nonhuman. They describe wanting to be metal and chrome, feeling like they run on algorithms, not processing emotions the way most people do. They identify very much with the same tropes that I feel alienated by. This isn’t a bad thing, by any means. It’s just a thing. People resonate with what they see. It just means that I feel like I’m doing bad at being an android again, but in a new, improved way.

Another symptom of BPD is being terrified of real or imagined abandonment, and trying to do anything to avoid it. A constant feeling of social alienation isn’t really that different, to my BPD - it’s just a slow, drawn out version of being left behind. People will still talk to me, they still like me, but they won’t understand me. I’ll still be alone.

In that sense, I feel wrong being an android in the same way I feel wrong about being an aromantic allosexual. I actually like being an android, and I fucking like being bi. I don’t want to stop being who I am. I just hate feeling like I’m the only one who feels this way, like nobody else can relate, like every time I talk about my feelings to people they can only nod in sympathy instead of understanding me.

So! You've reached the end of the essay. You see my problem. What do we do about it?

I’m going to refer to the theme of… every single online alterhuman convention that has existed in the past four years, and that is:

Write about your experiences!

The reason I feel so alone and isolated and alienated from my own identity is because I’m only being regularly exposed to pieces from a very specific perspective of what being an android means! That’s a fucking sampling bias!

I know other weird fucking robots are out there, I know you exist, but I can’t fucking reach out a hand and go, “Hey, you're not alone, I relate to you!” if you don't write it down! I want to talk to you! I want to hear from you!

WEIRD ALTERHUMANS, HEY, I LOVE YOU, GO WRITE THINGS!

[lttl3babybug]

HII!! I gone I'm this right but I've been going through a bit of a agere block, so I wanted to ask for maybe a fic (or hcs idm) of like.. rottmnt Leo struggling to regress because of his agere block but soon he's able to with his brothers help? I use Leo because he's a such kin of mine so 😭

Normally I'd regress around 5 or 6 years old, but you can do whichever!!

I rlly hope this is alright cuz I don't normally request but I'm hoping if I project onto my kin then it can help/hj

I love ur stuff btw and I hope u have a good day/night ♡

Ofc I can help you friend!! I love Leo, he’s such a fun little guy, personally massive Donnie Kin and I’m so glad you like my stuff!! I hope you can regress soon little one! My page is always open if you want to talk!!

Leo Struggling with Regression Headcanons!

🦕When Leo regresses he regresses to more of a toddler so I’d say 4-6 so he’s a talker and god he runs his damn mouth

🦕He’d most likely feel bad about wanting to regress and take time for himself after a mission goes wrong

🦕He’d not want to burden his brothers with taking care of him while they’re all still recovering from injuries and hardships

🦕But once his brothers caught onto this they were Not having this, not with a capital N

🦕The three of them started speaking softer around Leo

🦕I think Donnie would be the first to notice this, considering the fact that they’re our favourite disaster twins, he’d be the one to bring it up to his brothers

🦕Leo, initially, wouldn’t notice what his brothers were doing and he wouldn’t understand why he suddenly felt so calm and relaxed

🦕He also probably wouldn’t understand why he was all of a sudden allowed to be the first one to pick the tv and sit closest to the screen but hey, he wasn’t complaining. He got to watch Jupiter Jim whenever he wanted!

🦕But one day it’d hit him when Raph handed him something to drink and used one of his little nicknames

“There you go little guy, drink up” Raph said as he handed the cup of juice to his brother

🦕Leo would soon realise what his brothers were trying to do, he’d realise why Donnie had begrudgingly let him hug him a little too tight and why Mikey was inviting him to do arts and crafts so often and why Raph had called him ‘Little Guy’

🦕He wasn’t mad of course, he was honestly a little flattered, they cared so much that they were trying to help him regress

🦕It took a few days of his brothers gentle coercion but eventually Leo’s loud nothing greeting turned into a silent sit at the couch and flip cartoons on.

🦕He’d be babbling to his brothers about what was going on in his shows, pulling out the blue pacifier from his mouth every time he’d want to talk but if he kept running his mouth Donnie would slowly slide the paci back into his mouth until he got the hint

🦕But overall, Leo’s brothers would be so sweet if he started struggling to regress. They’d do everything in their power to help their brother feel better and relax

🦕We all want a family like the Hamato’s :)

[rubykgrant]

(Talking about Poppy's favorite movie being the Last Unicorn actually created a whole theme in my head about connections with identity, and it turned into a small story; a character study of Poppy explaining certain things about her life, how her favorite movie influenced her, but also how that story is VERY different from what she went through, with quotes from the Last Unicorn added to compare/contrast. The movie is the Rankin-Bass animated 1982 film, based on the book by Peter S Beagle. I think I'll eventually illustrate a comic with Poppy that follows this narrative, but for now, here is the text by itself~)

I remember watching The Last Unicorn when I was little

I first saw it when I was about two, maybe three

I loved it because it was beautiful, and sad, but full of hope… also, the songs were really pretty. The deeper parts of the story I didn’t totally understand, but it was still completely enthralling

I watched it again and again as I grew up. I started to mean more to me when I was older

As important as this movie is… The Last Unicorn isn’t a direct side-by-side comparison to who I am

Everything that happened in my life didn’t mirror the Last Unicorn… but I can understand why some people might think that. I can also understand how other people might relate to it-

“I can feel this body dying all around me!”

“I am a unicorn! I am a UNICORN!”

The Unicorn was turned into a human girl, and at first, that felt wrong to her. She was trapped, feeling like something she wasn’t supposed to be

However, the more time she spends as a human, the more she forgets being a unicorn. Eventually, she wants to stay human forever. She’s afraid to change back…

Until it has to happen. She is a unicorn again, she is herself again, but she also has her human memories and new emotions. After changing so much, she knows she has to keep living, no matter how hard it is

She also frees the other unicorns that have been trapped in the sea, and kills the monster that hunted them all down. That isn’t the focus to this story about identity, but it was still pretty bad-ass, and also something that stuck with me as a little kid

I never felt trapped by my own body. I never felt like I had to change into somebody else… but other people did make me feel like I had to hide. It wasn’t always possible, or safe, to just be myself all the time

When I was still very little, I just really liked the girls in stories the most. They were always my favorite. I wished I was like them. Then I realized, I could be. Then I knew who I was

I never was anything or anybody else

Even when I had to hide, and lie, and pretend… inside, I was still me

“Once, I can’t remember. I was, long ago, someone strange

I was innocent and wise, and full of pain

Now that I’m a woman, everything is strange

Once, when I was searching. Somewhere out of reach

Far away in a place I could not find, or heart obey

Now that I’m a woman, everything has changed”

I had to keep lying for a long time

Eventually, I stumbled into a place where I was finally free to just be myself

It wasn’t a magical transformation, it wasn’t a fairytale ending… but I was happy, and I was really ME

It felt like I found something I had been missing since I was little… I think a lot of people feel like if they don’t have certain kinds of happiness when they’re young, they’ll never have it at all. Like they missed their chance-

“Where have you been? Where have you been? Damn you, where have you been?

Where were you twenty years ago, ten years ago? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent young maidens you always come to?

How dare you come to me now, when I am this?”

As long as you are still alive, things can change. I had people who really cared about me, and I cared about them. I found my home. Part of my life finally seemed to begin…

 Then, they were gone. I couldn’t save them, or bring them back, or set them free. Part of my life seemed to die… even though I was still alive

I’m not slender

I’m not dainty or delicate

I don’t really wear make-up or jewelry

I never felt like I had to somehow be more “feminine”, or change my features to really be a woman

I’d still be a woman, no matter what I look like. That’s true for everybody- there isn’t a cookie-cutter standard to being a woman. People who act like there is are full of it

One thing I did want, though… I wanted to grow out my hair

Like  princess. A little cliché, I know

If I kept it short, I’d still be a woman. If I ever cut it again, or if it somehow burns off or falls out, I’ll still be a woman. I’ll always be me, because I always have been

I’m still happy that I can actually do this

A change for myself, that feels right, that I want

I didn’t get to be a princess when I was little… but I’m older now, and I can finally be all of myself

I’m alive, and I have a new home

[dragynkeep]

Some rewrite ideas that I thought could help keep Salem consistent: She and Ozpin have been in what is essentially a stalemate for the past century. They’re both immortal, and have lifespans upon lifespans to make their moves. Any premature strike on one of their parts could mean they lose. Consequently, they are both highly cautious and slow to act.

Humanity isn’t completely divided, but it’s not unified enough. There’s a constant push and pull between them, yet neither is so satisfied with the current state as to make their final move.

Salem almost has it easier; she doesn’t have to restart every 50-70 years like Ozpin. But she’s a bit more of a glass cannon, what with her weakness to the Silver Eyes. So her bursts of activity are mainly dedicated to culling the SEW, and it’s been largely successful. Silver-eyed children are unlucky, haven’t you heard? Rumored to attract Grimm. Maybe more than one struggling family in a rural village just couldn’t deal with the ostracism from the rest of their neighbors (because eventually they won’t be able to keep going. you can’t hack it on your own in Remnant). That successful doctor from Atlas can give their child a better life. That woman in red from the city, she has silver eyes too (contact lenses); she’ll care for your son because she understands. And in cities, well. People disappear all the time.

That Summer and Maria have lived long enough to become Hunters is impressive, but their careers were both cut short, and Maria was the lucky one of the two.

Ruby coming to Beacon is nothing short of earthshattering. Taiyang and Qrow kept her safe and thriving, but her Hunter aspirations are dangerous. If she ends up unleashing her power by accident, if the wrong people see, then she’s not safe anymore. All it takes is one wrong move. So she goes to Beacon, and Ozpin sees her silver eyes Summer’s eyes Tedrah’s eyes Cobal Indio Laven’s eyes and a dozen others he still remembers by name and her stubborn hope and realizes he can’t be so complacent anymore.

And a year later at the Vytal festival, a student from Haven named Cinder sees her silver eyes and realizes Salem needs to know about this. And then Salem finally stirs, for once and for all.

Of course some of the background information about Salem’s quiet war against the SEW can’t be stated from the beginning, but it doesn’t have to be. Just have some people quietly mention the superstition that silver eyes are a bad omen. Have Ruby mention how she was homeschooled as a kid. How she always wore sunglasses in public; sensitive eyes and all that. Her dad was sooo overprotective, haha!

Honestly I barely need to change anything. All I need to do is actually flat-out state some stuff. I came up with this in like. A half hour. I think I even managed to work in the “simple soul” idea to a good extent. But what do I know? I’m not a writer on RWBY.

honestly this was so good to read & really does show like what you said in that so little is needed to change to actually have some of these storylines make sense. & having some of this background decisions under wraps could very much be crwby's "plan" also but unlike this fantastic ask, we don't even get the bare minimum. people are still scrambling even now to come up with a justification for why salem has done sweet fuck all even at times of high probability that she would've steamrolled the good guys like in the colour war.

i did also love the tidbit of children going missing because it was just so subtly haunting & horrifying, all these silver eyed children have gone missing & there's no accountability to it because that's just the world they're in. love me some horror like that.

[ruminate88]

Emotional Barriers:

What is this wall between us??? I look at my husband and think “He has to be a good one. Look at the peaceful life I now have since I’ve met him.” I think he’s got so much potential and quality as a person… What’s this wall between us?

I remind myself how Cody would put up a wall with me and I would knock it down and beg him to trust me… 😔🥺 It never stopped him from rebuilding it and eventually he ghosted me. Then when I’m with Andrew, one minute he’s extremely intimate towards me without boundaries. Sending me selfies from his shower, not holding back anything but then randomly disappears for days. Totally shutting me out with no contact. I felt he kept me at an arms length most of the time accept when randomly he would “reward me” with letting me close again.

After I started to date my husband, not even a month later, Andrew is back trying to FaceTime me and I felt he didn’t want me to be happy with someone else yet, Andrew says he has a “girlfriend” and rubs it in. Posting about her on his social media hoping I’ll see it and be jealous of her. (I was but I just didn’t understand it all) I cried so much that I thought my new man/husband would dump me for still having feelings for my ex. He didn’t though!!! He asked me to marry him less than 6 months later and we were married within 10 months!!!! It all happened so fast!!!!!! I KNOW I had to marry fast to get away from Andrew, otherwise, I would’ve been right back into his web of lies. It’s been hard to shake him.

So I ask myself, “What’s this wall in my marriage and who put it there?” 😓😓😓 Why do I feel so distant and far from him, when he’s always right beside me and even talking to me. Sometimes he’s telling me things about his day and smiling at me. I see kindness and gentleness in his eyes. Everything I ever wanted and yet I’m overly frustrated becuase I don’t feel it!!!!!!! I get in bed with him and I feel safe. I feel like he’s not a toxic person I can tell the difference. Yet he’s so far away and I have zero desire. I just look at him and think “he’s got so much potential to be everything I’ve ever dreamt about but what if I’m wrong??? What if he’s tricking me like the rest?????” I feel safe yet I don’t because I watch his every move. I listen to his every word. It’s frustrating!!! I constantly overthink, over analyze and compare him🥴

All I ever wanted was a family. People want me to be a mom and I’m scared. What if my husband is just lying to me and what if I’m so full of trauma that I pass it on to my kids??? Am I gonna hurt my husband the way I’ve been hurt??? Am I gonna be a good mom or am I gonna hurt my kids?? (Even tho I raised my bro’s kids and they turned out) 😭😭😭 I can’t ever get Andrew out of my system even when I try really really hard NOT to think of him. He feels ingrained into every part of me!!!

My hands are cold but my heart is fighting to keep warm. I’m fighting to keep the fire going inside of me. I’ve come so far!!!! The fact it’s been all these years later and I’ve not tried to seek revenge on either Andrew or Cody (or Jake). Sure, I’ve been sharing my story and talking so much about them. It’s no secret that not everything I have to say is positive 😓 I’m sorry but I can’t help that!!! The relationships were negative despite me wanting them to be positive. The days I begged Cody not to shut me out that I loved him and wanted to help him. He continually manipulated me asking me “to fix him.” He said that so many times and I actually thought I could help…. I actually believed the lie that I could love Cody enough to take care of his heart but I was very very wrong!!!!!!

Not enough love or hope in my heart can change cody or Andrew. They will either change for someone or they won’t. Maybe they don’t believe they need to change… maybe they believe everything is just great?? Ok, sure. I won’t say they’re wrong. I’ll accept it if they believe nothing is wrong and that what we went through together was no big deal… I don’t want to ever argue with them cuz it’s not worth it to me to prove them wrong. However, after Cody ghosted me, I was soooooo numb and cold. Wow 😓💔 I never felt so isolated or dark in my life!! Was as if somebody shut all the lights off and froze my heart over…. It wasn’t till I met Andrew that I felt anything at all. Then Andrew only lit my heart on fire to use me up and when he was done with me, he blew the fire back out and made me cold again. 🥶

I’ve been fighting ever since!!!!!! Fighting not to be cold. Not to lose who I truly am. Not to lose love, forgiveness and hope. I won’t give up on myself or my dreams. My husband doesn’t deserve for this wall to be between us but he also doesn’t force it down. Either he just doesn’t see it or he doesn’t know what to do. (Or he doesn’t care but I don’t believe that) One day at time is all I can do moving forward ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i guess i read too much of your merman!suguru au asks that my brain got fried TTTT BUT IN A POSITIVE WAY!!!! 😭😭 it’s just that i have really vivid dreams and ankssjskndksnsks yesterday i got influenced because i dreamt of getting in a silly and goofy fight/challenge with gojo to court merman!suguru but! so i thought why not??? like, THIS SILLY STORY DOES?? MAKES SENSE??

maybe a silly au where reader and gojo, who come from different sides of the same coin (ig same job but different sides?? maybe they’re in different offices of the same job?? i really don’t know, i hope it actually makes sense) and then one day they meet this beautiful merman on the shore. this beautiful creature just sitting on a rock and doing his merman things (what does mermaids/mermen actually do?? maybe reading a slate that is their version of books, or resting to sunbathing a bit? prob also comb his hair? help my mind is swirling in the wrong direction AAAAA……) completely unbothered by their heart shaped stares because completely understandable. so it begins with a goofy courtship. i’m thinking about probably gojo being the first one to make a move? just driven by love and also a bit of spite towards reader. a stupid way to say “look! i’m making my move while you’re still overthinking it! take that!” and reader is just right behind the rock spying them because ‘this guy……….’ but the move gojo makes goes completely rejected? because who in their right mind would gift a merman octopus legs??? useless to say that gojo is absolutely shocked while reader is trying not to laugh. then goes reader, offering the beautiful mermen pearls directly fished from ostriches but they too get rejected!! which is a shock!! because they thought they were doing the right thing but at least. the reasoning could be something silly like ‘are you implying that the pearls i wear are shit?’ 🤨

……….i’m thinking about few silly tries and shenanigans that happen and amongst the many of them geto eventually warms up because . they’re dorks, both of them— but they’re actually very pretty and funny to keep around?? maybe i do not want them to go away?? and it starts subtly. first it comes in the form of hate against time, when geto starts to think that he hates just how brief the time together seems to be. how at every sunset, where the sun is lowering on a side and the moon is shining brightly on the other, he feels kind of annoyed at the thought to have to go back to the lonely underwater cave he calls his home. he really doesn’t want to wait the slow passage of another night that he doesn’t even get to see with his eyes because underwater everything is dark at all times so exactly what does it change? what’s the difference if not his inability to lie down and rest a bit?

then it comes in the form of actually finding their silly ways at courtship kind of….. cute? the three of them don’t even belong to the same reality, but gojo and reader actually put efforts in their gestures and words and that —he will never admit it in front of the two of them, but it actually warms his heart…….. and so one day, when gojo and reader less expect it, geto goes to the surface with a bouquet of corals? and different pieces of marine flora in it (or it could be even something kind of ugly like a bouquet of fishes that leaves both gojo and reader speechless because wtf is that…….) and boom. they find out that geto has accepted their courtship waaaaay before without them even realizing (geto purposefully said nothing to them) so they’ve spent the first weeks?? or a month?? of their relationship courting a merman that had already accepted their advances after all and they live all happily together. just a fluff ensemble sugu!centric because lately my mind refuses to work with other tropes… i just need to give that man the love he deserves 🙁🙁🙁

ANON???????? THIS IS SO FUCKING TASTY????

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK ME SOME TIME TO ANSWER BUT U HAVEEEEE TO UNDERSTAND I EXPLODED WHEN I SAW IT IN MY INBOX C’MERE I’M GONNA SPIN U AROUND 🫂🫂🫂🫂

i don’t even know what to say tbh……. THIS IS SOOOO GOOD ANON I LOVE IT SM URE A LITTLE GENIUS….. sugucentric polycules are my favorite ever too he deserves ALL the love <333 AND MER!SUGUUU OUR BELOVED……… ok but fr tho i don’t think there’s anything i could add this is already perfect??? GOJO AND READER COMPETING FOR THE PRETTY MERMAN’S HEART……. both of them getting rejected 😭😭 I COULD SEE THIS SOOO VIVIDLY satoru gets slapped w sugu’s tail and he scowls at reader all offended bc he takes his pearls VERY seriously…. silly little fish man.

AND WAHHH THE SLOWBURN OF IT ALL….. sugu realizing he appreciates their company 🥺🥺🥺

first it comes in the form of hate against time, when geto starts to think that he hates just how brief the time together seems to be. how at every sunset, where the sun is lowering on a side and the moon is shining brightly on the other, he feels kind of annoyed at the thought to have to go back to the lonely underwater cave he calls his home. he really doesn’t want to wait the slow passage of another night that he doesn’t even get to see with his eyes because underwater everything is dark at all times so exactly what does it change?

anon r u perhaps a writer…. would u write this fic for me if i beg enough…. I’M SOOOO WEAK FOR THIS CONCEPT mer!sugu getting melancholic at the passage of time :((( tying it to his underwater existence is soooo clever too !!! it feels like he associates gojo and reader w the sun …. warmth …… and i think that shifts so easily into love. bc they’re silly little losers but they’re his silly little losers!! and wahhh him finding their attempts at courtship cute 😭😭 i can imagine him watching them bicker w his jaw on the heel of his palm, smiling softly….. <33

AND THEN!!! THE BOUQUET!!!!! ANONNNN THAT’S THE SWEETEST THING EVER… T—T HE WOULDDD HE SO WOULD i love the idea of the fish bouquet but i do think he’d give them really beautiful bouquets… and then maybe some fresh fish on the side LMAO but !!! wawawa…… 🥺🥺 that’s so CUTE the fact that he accepted their courtship but didn’t say anything….. that’s so funny. gojo and reader are losing their MINDS trying to figure out how to charm him while he’s just watching them all lovingly like ”my partners look especially cute today….” HE’S SO SILLY PLS……

okay but i do imagine that merfolk have really specific courting processes AND that they’re possessive by nature so i’m just imagining that in this au… 😵‍💫😵‍💫 like. mer!sugu glaring at any other humans by the shore who might try to flirt with his partners…… giving them both his scales to wear as some kind of jewelry to signal to the other merfolk that these humans are his…. i usually don’t like the idea of sugu being overly possessive but i think it works well w the merman au :33 he’s just a silly little fishy he’s allowed to be a little territorial… as a treat….. he loves his silly little lovers so much and they love him too!!! they only have eyes for him <33

AAAAA ANON MY SWEETIE as u can hopefully tell this ask made me insane i love it so much… IT’S SUCHH A TASTY CONCEPT i feel like i should be paying u for dropping this into my inbox….. i feel honoured…….. if u ever have any other mer!sugu thoughts u know where to find me <33