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g00d--m0urning · 7 months ago

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Unnamed Pt. 2 (Daryl Dixon x AFAB!reader)

Yippie, part two!!

Part one

TW/CW: vomiting, gore and violence (not super descriptive, dw), reader is pregnant so obvi AFAB but no gendered descriptors, ex-cop!reader, swearing, no use of Y/N, grammar mistakes

WC: 3942

A/N: I promise it'll pick up speed :'( I'm definitely not doing an episode by episode rewrite. And Daryl and Reader will finally reunite next part, so I'm looking forward to writing that.

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A car swerves off the road, trying to avoid scrambling pedestrians, straight towards you; you jump over the hood of a car nearby, narrowly avoiding the car as it bursts into flame. You rush back around, checking on the driver; who is nonexistent apparently, there’s nobody in there. “What the fuck!?” you breathe out, jogging over to your car and getting it started. You get the radio on, switching to the emergency channel, wishing you had your police scanner with you as you get onto the road, heading in direction to the precinct.

If there’s one place you’ll be safe it should be a police station, right? There’s at least guns for whatever the hell is going on. Sirens flash in your rearview, trying to get you to pull over--you swear, but do so anyhow. “Do you know why I--Shit! Greenie?” you recognize the voice, it’s officer Cameron. He leans into your open window pulling his sunglasses down. “Heading down to the precinct?”

“Yeah. Do you know what the hell is going on?” you ask, turning the radio down and surveying both Cameron and behind him. It’s like some sort of apocalypse, but that’s far fetched, you think.

He shakes his head, “Nah, nah; I don’t, there’s too much going on. We’re getting calls left and right, whole damn city’s going into panic.” he answers, scratching at his stereotypical cop-stache. His walkie blares, unintelligible words coming through. “Hey, be safe, get off the roads soon.”

He pats your shoulder, walking off quickly as he speeds off. That was no help at all, you knew all of that already. You groan, pulling back onto the road and getting to your destination.

Cops are flooding in and out of the building, paramedics and firefighters all gathered there; behind you there’s black SUV’s pulling in, FBI you assume. What in the shit is going on? You sprint into the building, watching the chief dole out guns to anyone in reach, the news is blaring, radios screeching, people yelling, you can barely hear anything. “Greenie, here! Take this, and get home, youngin’. Stay safe, stay indoors.” the chief orders, shoving a glock and a few boxes of ammo into your arms and practically shoving you out the door. You flounder slightly, confused and in need of answers, opening your mouth to speak but you’re cut off, “No time to explain, too much to do, just keep that kid of yours safe.” You gape, throwing your arms in the air. In your confusion you remember Daryl, crap; Daryl, is he ok? You imagine he should be, the man can survive anything, but still. You pull out your phone and dial his number and he doesn’t answer, of course. Fucking, fuck, fuckity fuck, whatever.

The drive back home is insane, fires and dead people--Dead people? You slam on your brakes, just barely stopping before the body in the middle of the street. You could puke; you’ve seen dead bodies, but never like this. Nothing like this is normal, the body is missing chunks from her arms and neck, like some freako cannibal case.

The body twitches, just a cadaveric spasm (you learned that in school, you spent years looking at dead bodies, after death spasms are just remaining nerves working, it’s normal). She twitches again, and again and she’s up. You stare at the body in disgust and confusion and shock, you could've swore she was just dead. The undead reaches for you, jaws snapping at your ankles and glazed eyes staring at you. A scream garbles itself from your throat as you stagger back, nearly tripping over the car in the process. You fumble with the door handle, reaching over the center console to grab your gun; the thing manages to grab at your ankle in the time, making you kick out, trying to shake it off.

You manage to get the gun and get two bullets into the crazed person. Bile rises in your throat as you look at the dead body, watching to see if she comes back again; thankfully she doesn’t and you can puke. You look at her, the bullet holes in her head, the rotting bite marks in her skin; it’s horrid, nothing you’ve seen before. God.

The car ride home is intense, fires left and right, screaming people--more bitten people, you realize when you look closer at a few of them--and the radio is no help, reports of deaths, murders, and traffic jams. You pull into the parking garage for your apartment, parking in a far corner and tossing a tarp over it to hopefully keep it in better condition and out of view.

You can barely get to your apartment with all the people rushing to and fro throughout the building; some are leaving, packing their stuff into their cars, others are barricading themselves in their apartments. Fortunately you get into your apartment without being trampled, locking both the deadlock and door chain.

Rushing around your apartment is next, filling empty water jugs and bottles with water--who knows how long the water will be on--getting perishables cooked, and inventorying things like batteries, nonperishables, first-aid, anything one needs for an apocalypse.

You thank whatever god that does or doesn’t exist that you went shopping a few days ago; it was a big trip too, you were running low on pretty much everything. So, you don’t need to go try and conquer the shit show that is the shops, which were clearly being raided already. Getting the door barricaded shut was easy enough--bungee cords tied to the door handle and kitchen counter post, chair tucked under the knob (you had to learn quickly how to keep a door shut with Daryl’s old trailer, considering Merle had walked in on the two of you on multiple occasions).

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A month passes by very slowly. You never realized how boring it could get without modernity. Normal TV stopped playing a week in, even the emergency signal stopped broadcasting after that. Phones and utilities went week two, something about needing to horde supplies for the military who started setting up camps around that time.

You had the vague thought of going to one, figuring it’d be safe and helpful with your pregnancy, but quickly learned otherwise over the radio. Infected managed to sneak into the one closest to you, killing most people, so you dodged that bullet. Which means, you’ve just been entertaining yourself with coloring, and light workouts, reading and people watching or--Zombie watching, you suppose.

The fire escape provides a nice safe vantage point and you pretty much see the whole town--you tried the hall one time and it was overrun, almost didn’t make it back in--and the infected roaming the streets. A few people have passed through, most of them were raiders, passerby, but some were local, those who stayed; officer Cameron stayed, your ultrasound tech, she left a few days ago though.

You’ve been thinking of doing the same as of late. You don’t know what you’d do if you did, head back to Georgia to find Daryl? Wander until you find a safezone or hell, even just a group so you’re not alone anymore.

Your head rests in your hands as you contemplate the risks of leaving the apartment; with the zombies flooding the halls and the unknown number of them in the parking garage and who knows what could happen on the drive.

You roll your eyes, leaning back in the desk chair, “Fuck me, man.” you groan, running a hand down your face as you stand up from the chair, grabbing a backpack out of the closet.

You busy yourself with packing the bag precariously: a few changes of clothes, your first aid kit, a book and notebook, food and water, the few boxes of ammo you have, a knife, a lighter, and in the last bit of space you shove a sleeping bag.

“Yeah, yeah, that should be everything.” you murmur to yourself as you tuck your gun and pocket knife into your belt.

As you get a foot out of the window something catches your eye, making you pause and hurry back inside. You take the sonogram into your hands, staring at the black and white picture before gently placing it in the side pocket before finally slipping out the window.

You curse at the creaky fire escape as a few heads turn your ways, breathing a sigh of relief as they quickly get distracted. Just to be safe, you toss the plant you had long let die onto the street, watching as the undead shuffle to the noise in hopes of a meal. It’s unsettling, the way they move like puppets on a string, but you file that to the back of your mind and make quick work of the stairs.

Slinking down the alley and sneaking across the street is surprisingly easy--they’re genuinely so brain dead, there’s absolutely no semblance of the person they were before; it’s depressing if you think too hard of it. An involuntary sigh of relief pulls from your lips at the sight of your baby still sitting pretty in the garage. Silently you pull the gray tarp off the car, folding it over itself a few times and tossing it in the backseat along with your backpack into the passenger seat.

“Hello, my beautiful girl, I missed you, baby.” you coo at the car, running a hand over the slick, black roof. You dip back into the passenger seat, popping the glove box open and grabbing the map Daryl had insisted you keep in there.

It’d been annoying back then, but it makes you smile today; guess you really did need it. You unfold the map over the hood of your car, tapping the pencil you had wrapped up in the paper against it. Suddenly reading a map seems like a much more important skill as you stare at the lines representing roads, and rivers, and landmarks. Technically, you do know how to read one, but barely, it’s not like you were in a scouts troop as a kid.

There’s a few old markings on the map from Daryl--just a few words, circles to help direct you--it almost makes you cry. You chalk it up to pregnancy hormones as you swallow thickly, marking up the map for your trip. If you remember correctly, it took about twelve hours--including stops--to get to Virginia from Georgia.

So, you should get there in a flash; what traffic is going to be stopping you? Well, the roads might be blocked, you guess you’ll find out. You trace a couple different routes, just in case before the annoyingly familiar groans of the undead echo across the concrete building.

Folding the map up you sigh, “Let's get this show on the road.” You tap Baby’s hood twice before getting into the car, propping the map up against your backpack in the passenger seat.

The drive is…surprisingly nice, you popped in an old mix tape into the stereo, tapping the wheel in beat to every song. Only downside is the traffic--and people aren’t even alive, you’d think that’d be the one good thing about the apocalypse, but no! Roads are clogged with cars, some crashed and others just stopped, like everyone just disappeared. Back roads aren’t too horrible though, it’s nice seeing something alive, even if it’s just flora.

Nature comes a-calling around the fourth hour of the drive, pulling off at an old mom&pop looking gas station. The bell hanging from a sparkly ribbon jingles as you slowly push the door open, waiting in the entrance for anything, dead or alive.

Nothing comes after a minute or two, so you continue in, looking around the small building; it’s in shockingly good condition. It’s pretty cleaned out, but everything is intact. Something bumps against your foot as you walk through the aisles, making you yelp. It’s just a soda can, you learn when you look down, letting out a shaky chuckle.

“Phew, we’re good,” you exhale aloud, squatting down with a groan to pick up the can. You run a hand over your bump when you stand back, smiling when she kicks against your hand.

To your dismay, the bathrooms are locked and you’d really prefer not to pop a squat in a bush. After a bit of searching, you find the key attached to a fly swatter behind the counter and finally get to do your do.

You confiscate a bottle of hand sanitizer on your way out, slathering your hands in the liquid. As you pass the gas pump you figure it wouldn’t hurt to top off your tank, maybe fill a few cans; you just hope the damn things still have gas.

“Moment of truth…” you mutter as you stick the nozzle into the fuel door, pulling the lever and hoping like hell. Gas starts flowing and you’re elated, bouncing between your feet as you go grab gas cans.

“On the road again, I just can’t wait to get on the road again,” you hum as you start driving again, feeling pretty good about everything.

The sun is shining, backroads are clear, gas tank is full, what isn’t there to feel good about?

Eventually you have to get back onto the highway, but that high and mighty feeling still stays strong through the last five and a half hours of the drive--It doesn’t when you get to Atlanta. If you thought other cities were bad, then you don’t have a clue what to consider Atlanta.

The sun had already set hours ago, so you decide it’s best to just pull over, get some sleep and try to brave the mess that once was Interstate 85. Sleep comes easy, considering; it’s a warm summer night, muggy as all hell though, but you got a good few hours before the sound of horse hooves awoke you--Horse hooves?

You sit up hastily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you look out the window to try and identify where the clopping is coming from. You get eyes on the horse and realize it’s definitely not wild, it’s got a rider.

A guy, you think, adorned with a cowboy hat and a bag of something slung over his shoulder. His head turns and you shrink into the backseat, hoping he didn’t see you. He did, if the way the horse’s footsteps seem come closer with every passing moment; maybe he’s just passing by--He’s not.

Something metal taps against the car window (a gun, it’s a gun, oh no, he’s gonna shoot you), “Hey, I can see you in there; I don’t mean harm,” says a faint country accent.

You have a half thought of reaching for your gun, which stupidly still lays in the front seat, you’d be dead before you grabbed it, so you can be reasonable. You tilt your head up, meet with a man wearing a sheriffs--not a cowboy, okie dokie--hat, something of a hesitant, sheepish smile revealing pearly teeth.

“I’m going to sit up, and turn around.” you inform him, raising hands in surrender as you very slowly sit up. He may’ve said he doesn’t mean harm, but you don’t want to risk any sudden movements.

He watches tentatively and you do the same, staring at each other for a solid minute--maybe he is a cowboy, you swear this could be a scene out of an old western. His eyes rove over you, searching for weapons or you assume. A protective hand instinctively goes to your stomach, shielding your baby from his scorching glare.

“You’re pregnant?” are the next words out of his mouth; they’re quiet, almost worried, you could barely make them out through the glass. It takes you a second to answer, it’s not like you thought nobody would notice, you’re five months pregnant, but you hoped it wouldn’t be super obvious.

“No, I’m just super fat,” you retort, scowling as you roll the window down, “What'd you want, cowboy?”

That makes him snort, shaking his head slightly, “Cowboy? Nah, my name’s Sheriff Rick Grimes, you?”

You continue scrutinizing the man, a deep frown pulling at your lips. He looks friendly enough, looks can be deceiving though. You lean into the front seat, popping open your glove compartment and grab your ID, passing it to--Rick, apparently.

“You’re an officer too?” oh yeah, you forgot you keep your badge in your wallet. You nod slightly, snatching the wallet from his grip, deciding he’s had more than enough time with it.

“Was, an officer.” you correct, watching him just laugh at you like this is a perfectly normal interaction, water cooler chat. “In case you haven’t noticed, the world’s gone to shit, I’m not an officer anymore, you’re not a sheriff, we’re survivors, that’s it.”

“Ain’t you a ray of sunshine?” he quips, raising his hands in mock surrender as he catches sight of your unamused expression. “Well, sunshine, need a ride into the city?”

You go to say ‘no,’ but pause for a moment. A horse is probably easier, fits between cars better, quieter, it’s not a bad idea. Trusting him though? Could be. You could kill him, take the horse, but that’s a little bit much, you reckon.

“Ugh--yeah, a ride would be, huuugh, nice.” you concede, deciding if he were to kill you, it’d be a better way to go than to have your flesh torn from your skin. You wave your hand out the window, getting him to move so you open the car door.

Joints pop as you exit the car, crackling when you stretch and walk over to the passenger side to grab your bag. You tick a mental checklist as you gather your belongings--knife, in your belt, gun, on the other side of your belt, bag, over your shoulder, yep. You’ve got everything.

The metal of the car is warm as you caress her, “I’ll be back, Baby, I promise,” is what you mumble to the car whilst you press a kiss to the roof.

Rick’s eyebrow raises slightly, clearing not understanding the deep bond between a person and their beloved car. All he gets in return is a glare whilst you hike your bag higher onto your shoulder, shuffling over to his horse.

“Well? Let’s go, cowboy, we’re losing daylight!” you nag, causing the sheriff to hurry over, clicking his tongue.

“You’re impatient, anyone ever told you that?” he questions rhetorically as he pulls himself onto the horse, sticking a hand out to help you up.

Your, seemingly permanent, glower is directed at his hand, like it’s a piece of filth as you hoist yourself onto the horse. The animal nickers and starts trotting once more; instinctively your hands go to Rick’s shoulders to keep from falling off the horse.

“Sooo… What’re hoping to find in Atlanta?” Rick asks, looking over his shoulder to look at you. All you do is shrug, not wishing to speak to him--even if you did, you don’t know what you’re hoping to find.

He nods slowly at your non-answer, “I’m tryin’ find my wife, Lori, and my son, Carl,” he informs you, making you feel bad at the fact that he’s opening up.

You blame pregnancy hormones for the guilty feeling, “You having a boy or girl or do you even know?” is the next thing you register from his mouth.

You decide to answer this one, “A girl, found out the day this shit started.” you reveal, throwing him a bone with the extra tidbit. His head bobs along with your words, trying to keep an eye both on you and the busy road.

“I always wanted a little girl. Give Carl someone to protect when he gets older, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. How old is he--Carl, I mean.”

“‘Bout eleven; shit, by now he’s probably twelve.”

“How’d you get separated from your wife and kid?”

That makes Rick pause, and you start backtracking. It’s none of your business, you shouldn’t have asked. He snickers at your stammering, shaking his head.

“It’s ok, don’t worry; I was just trying to figure out how to word it.” he explains, scratching the back of his neck, “I got shot on duty--none of us realized there was a third guy--sent me into a coma. Next thing I knew I woke up and half the world was dead and my house was cleared out.”

You wince slightly. Damn, that must suck, you didn’t have any friends when this started, so you didn't have anyone to worry about. You couldn’t imagine being in a coma for months then waking up and the world’s ended and your family’s gone.

“Ooh, that’s shitty, man. Really. Hope you find them.” you apologize, awkwardly patting his shoulder.

“That makes two of us.” he agrees, falling into focus as you hit the city limit.

The streets are clearer in the city, apparently nobody made it into the city. You look around, tightening your grip on Rick’s shoulder in worry as you turn the corner. Suddenly the horse is bucking upwards, tossing both of you off of her. It takes a moment to realize why you’re on the floor, but the second you see the horde you're panicking.

“Rick, hey man, up! We’ve gotta go.” you yell, grabbing at his shoulder. Unlike yourself--who luckily landed on your bag--Rick got knocked on his ass, clearly winded as he only stares in horror.

Undead start growling, getting distracted from the now dead horse, stumbling towards fresh meat. It’s cruel, but you leave. You spin, looking for somewhere to run, eyes snagging on a tank. It’s a short sprint to the military vehicle, but a vague struggle to climb up, barreling down the hatch and yanking it shut.

You can barely catch your breath before growling fills your ears, a zombie soldier crawling towards you. Before you can even try to scream, a shot rings out followed by arguably the most painful ringing noise.

Your head whips around, finding Rick holding his ears, gun in one hand. If you could hear yourself think, you’d yell at him. What kind of idiot shoots a gun in a tank? A metal box? He could’ve blown our eardrums out! He also saved your life, so he gets a pass.

“Thanks.” you gasp when the ringing finally subsides, rubbing furiously at your temple. He presents you with a shaky thumbs up, against the opposite wall you’re leaning on. “Sorry for leaving you out there,” you whisper, peeking an eye open to look at him.

“You’re good, I would've done the same if I could’ve--no offense.” he admits, lazily waving a hand through the air.

You chuckle, shaking your head, “Trust me, none taken.”

You’re ready to just pass out here in the tank, yet Rick still seems loaded, drawing the peek-a-boo hatch open, staring at the scene outside. He mutters something you can’t quite hear, relocking the hatch and sliding back down.

“The weapons bag…my walkie…” are the few distraught words you manage to catch, shutting your eyes.

It’s silence between the two of you for a long stretch until the radio crackles. You think you’re hearing things since Rick didn’t seem to hear anything, but it crackles again. Rick hears it this time, nearly getting whiplash with the speed he turned his head.

He looks at you for confirmation, to make sure he’s not crazy. He’s not, unless you’re both hearing things and going insane. You nod, wiggling over to kneel next to him in front of the radio when it crackles a third time; a voice comes through this time.

“Hey, you two. Dumbasses. Y’all in the tank. You guys cozy in there?”

#daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x gn!reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #Unnamed

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mrpuzzlessimp420 · 8 months ago

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Mario Simulator (Joke Fic)

Chapter 2

Warnings: Mention of Lobotomy, Blackmailing, Kidnapping, Plotting Murder (none of these are taken seriously)

Ships: Marware, SMG34, BatteryAcid (Mr Puzzles x Orange Juice)-Mentioned

An idea popped into Mario's head, quite surprising as he probably didn't have any braincells left.

A very... unique idea.

You see, there was something actually... unnormal about Mario.

He was what you would call...

A yandere.

Now Mario wasn't your Ayano Aishi "I've never felt ANY emotions before Senpai!" yandere, he was your "though emotionally stunted still had emotions" yandere.

His entire life he had never felt strong emotions before which wasn't questioned by literally anyone as they just thought it was just because he was you know Mario or because he had been implied to be lobotomized in that one episode.

It also wasn't questioned when he started acting coo-coo crazy over Mr Puzzles as they just cracked it up to just be Mario being Mario.

So hiding this fact about himself from others was as easy as forcing your friends to kiss for a tiktok trend.

But like any yandere (insert-literally-any-character) fanfic, Mario had some roadblocks that stopped him from being with his one and only true loves...

Rivals.

Now Mario was used to having rivals, love related or not but Orange Juice was a special case.

Unlike the others, Orange Juice was actually dating Mr Puzzles which meant that if he just straight up murdered him, Mr Puzzles would be depressed, wear grey/black hoodies all the time and be emo and Mario couldn't have that! Being emo was the greatest sin of humanity!

He'd had to think of a plan to get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up or for Orange Juice to be extremely toxic so when he goes to kill him, Puzzles wouldn't be a sad depressed babygirl!

Unluckily for him, Mario was a number 1 lazy boy and didn't want to go through all the effort of figuring something out so he thought of the next best option: get someone to figure it out for him!

Now how would be his unwilling victim?

Saiko?

No she has had to much character development that she would drop kick him into the sun if he asked her to revert back to the days she was crazily obsessing over Boopkins (really though, Boopkins??)

Luigi?

No he was weird in his own way that Mario didn't want to deal with.

SMG3?

Maybe.

He'd probably need some sort of blackmail though.

Luckily for Mario, he always kept a copy of SMG3's gay little diary on hand, just in case.

A loud rigging bell went that snapped Mario out of his thoughts, it was the end of break!

And he didn't get to eat his spaghetti-flavoured apple :(.

Moving on from that, Mario knew what his next move was. At lunch he would kidnap SMG3, blackmail him to make a plan that would get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up, force him to help in the actual plan himself and make him promise to never tell anyone about the situation ever.

Yeah that seemed like a solid plan, what could possibly go wrong?

The next two lessons went by like SMG4 and SMG3's will-they-won't-they relationship that will probably never be canonized because of half of the fandom's homophobicness and their insistence that their brothers.

Right as Mario was considering drowning a random girl in a bucket of full of acid because of how clingy she was being, the bell went signalling it was lunch.

He ran out of the classroom with no time to lose, not even caring that the teacher yelled at him that "the bell doesn't dismiss him, she does" or whatever that crap was.

After searching for what felt like weeks, he finally found SMG3 packing up his stuff in a classroom that was now empty. His face slightly smiling at a image on his emo skull phone.

It was now his chance!

Mario grabbed a black bag out of thin air and, without SMG3 noticing, put it on SMG3's head and tightened it.

Now all he needed to do was find a dark, empty room that no-one would dare walk near to.

The broom closet! (DID YOU GET THE BROOM CLOSET ENDING? THE BROOM CLOSET- The author is then choked to death because they referenced another piece of media)

Dragging SMG3's lifeless body that definitely was losing oxygen by the second and not at all trying to hide himself, waving to others whenever they passed who just chalked it up to be Mario being Mario. When he finally reached the broom closet, he dumped the poor man in it, locking himself and SMG3 inside.

After finding a chair that definitely looked out of place in a broom closet that only held brooms, he placed SMG3 on it and tied his hands behind the chair with some spare rope.

Realising he needed SMG3 to talk during this blackmailing, Mario finally took the black bag off of SMG3's head.

"What the hell Mario?" SMG3 shouted after panting for oxygen for 4 minutes straight, his voice not being heard from the outside as the closet was noise cancelling.

"Mario wants you do to something for him." Mario said sinisterly, which was hard to tell due to his voice only being voice clips.

"Hell no I'll do something for you! Last time I did so I was humiliated on the internet!" SMG3 argued, not wanting anything to do with Mario.

"Well.. Mario has your gay diary sooo.. :D" Mario said, grabbing the copy of SMG3's notebook out of his skirt that has pockets.

SMG3 immediately freezed up, a pink blush spreading around his checks.

"Y-you wouldn't leak that would you?" SMG3 asked, sounding extremely nervous. No one could see his deepest and darkest thoughts and know about his massive crush on SMG4.

"I won't if you do this for me.." Mario stated as menacingly as he could, leaning down to SMG3.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife...

"Fine... I'll do it..." He said, giving in to Mario's demands.

"Yippeee!!" Mario squeaked, though he was sad he didn't get to use his brand new cringe memes machine to torture SMG3 with but he could use it at another time.

"What do you want me to do then? Make spaghetti for you? Force me to a dumb challenge? Humiliate myself on camera?" SMG3 asked.

"Help me commit murder." Mario said blankly.

"Yeah sure why not." SMG3 stated, he selled bombs on the black market for a living, murder wasn't that extreme that he wouldn't do it. "Who is it and what's the plan?"

"Actually I wanted you to make a plan for me" Mario rubbed the back of his head, pulling a silly face while doing so.

"Of course you did.." He said, not surprised at all.

"Well to be honest, I need your help to get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up so I can go kill Orange Juice." Mario stated, extremely casually.

"Honestly wouldn't take you for a yandere type of guy"

"The author's friend thought it be funny."

"Well, I've already thought of some ideas so let's plan this!"

30 minutes later and they had already made a Plan A, a Plan B for if it goes wrong, a Plan C etc. Now all they needed to do was set it into motion...

(part 3 coming whenever I feel like it babieee-)

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flightfoot · 2 years ago

Note

What would you consider the worst case of "Saltinette" you've read?

The one where, as far as I remember, all the class had actually done was be dismissive of Saltinette's allegations that Lila was a liar, and Adrien had advised her that it wasn't a big deal that Lila was lying since she wasn't hurting anyone, so it was best to just let it go.

So, sane person that she was, she decided to make the class WANT to see through Lila's lies by abusing her power as class rep to get some individual classmate to help Lila all the time, until they got tired of being taken advantage of and started gathering evidence of Lila's lies to present to Saltinette.

At which point she gaslit them about how they were targeting poor, disabled Lila, and pressured them to keep silent about their suspicions.

She then repeated this for everyone in class, until they all hated Lila and hated being taken advantage of, but stayed silent due to Saltinette's manipulations, all for Saltinette's personal satisfaction at seeing them suffer.

Of course this didn't apply to Adrien, so she did something different with him. She once again abused her power as class rep, seating him next to Lila all the time, so that Lila could touch him and sexually harass him, and Saltinette could enjoy watching him suffer at Lila's hands, knowing that he wouldn't speak up.

Yeaaaah, this was the fic (or ficlet more like, I think it was more of an outline of a fic than an actual one), that broke any sort of consideration I may have given to Saltinette having a point. Because if THIS was what was considered the good, "true" version of Marinette, the ideal version, what the show SHOULD be doing with her, then I want no part of it. I had to rewatch the show and remind myself that Marinette and Saltinette were entirely different characters, because this kind of crap with Saltinette made Saltinette into a worse person than Lila was. At least Lila's not this self-righteous and hypocritical.

If Marinette was actually the type of person to do things like this, then she'd fully deserve to have all her friends desert her.

#ask #ml fandom salt

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wishbonedean · 9 months ago

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One thing of note is Dean's conversation with Jo.

JO Shut up. You carry all kinds of crap you don't have to, Dean. It kinda gets clearer when you're dead. DEAN Well, in that case, you should be able to see that I am 90%... crap. I get rid of that, what then? JO You really want to die not knowing?

Dean rarely gives himself the opportunity to be self-reflective except, often, when he or another is about to die. He's self-aware. He knows he's performing, and what gets me is that he doesn't even know what he's covering up, and he literally does not know *what* he's missing out on, and he's prepared to die not knowing (bc he feels guilty enough to think he doesn't even deserve the opportunity to get to know himself on a deeper level). I love that Jo calls him out on this and encourages him to let go of the "crap" - including a clear acknowledgement that she does not blame him at all for her death - so he can experience himself without all of that weighing him down. His is spending 90% of the time playing this role that has mostly been cultivated for him by John, and Jo prompts him to recognize he is living a half life - how can you know what's missing if you never knew what was there, you never were brave enough to look?

This conversation highlights that Dean has *not* achieved his final form - far from it, he's admitted he's 90% performative bs. He is *not* the Dean we see on screen for nearly half the run-time of the show, or at least he doesn't feel like it, bc while he definitely *is* that Dean, it's not the complete picture, we only see the 10% of him that manages to shine through. And thanks to all the wonderful Jacting Joices, we know that Dean has *plenty* of feelings that he doesn't let on to even those closest to him - there's never *time* to navigate his own feelings bc the hits keep coming relentlessly, not to mention he's on the heels of season 6 where literally all of his closest loved ones have lied to and belittled him, and made choices on his behalf without his say so. So he takes the path of least resistance and locks up his identity/exploration behind a persona he can be safe in, but in taking the path of least resistance, he resigns himself to living a life *of* resistance, the mask *must* be maintained, and he can *not* explore until it is safe to do so (but how can he ever know if it's safe?). It just break my heart to see Dean *aware* that he has barely scratched the surface of who he really is - he mentions never getting to be a kid in this episode as well - and yet he's ready to accept such a painfully short and unfulfilled life as though he doesn't deserve his life. He is not okay, not at all.

Also (not necessarily related to the above), Sam tells Dean that his time in Hell helps him to not feel guilty because he's paid for it already. But the difference in their hell experiences is that Sam never tortured anyone. In this episode, it doesn't *matter* of Dean is guilty or not, it's about whether *he* thinks he's guilty, and there's no way this guy can treat his time in hell as penance when he "chose" to torture others to spare himself. He is not sold on this and jokes with Sam a bit about it, but we end the episode with him not really achieving any sort of respite. He continues to lie to Sam about killing Amy in the previous episode, the most recent kill he feels most guilty about, and unlike Jo and Sam whose deaths he could acknowledge weren't necessarily on his head, there was no working around Amy's death - he killed her, *in front of her child*. I have my own opinions about Amy, but regardless, Dean feels guilty and that's all that really matters.

#spn 7x4 #a couple of queers watch supernatural #that's my emotional support fictional character #dean is bi #spn 07x04 #Dean winchester character study #supernatural #spn rewatch #>?[#?_ ][@/

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saintheartwing · 1 year ago

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So. The "Lois being mad at Clark for Not Admitting He's Superman" Thing Got Resolved and...

Okay, I'm glad Lois and Clark made up, but they didn't REALLY address the hypocrisy issue. I had a feeling they wouldn't. Otherwise, I enjoyed the episode quite a bit, especially finding out Jimmy's known all this time. Now...

FULL SPOILERS BELOW. BEWARE.

...

...you ready?

Good.

The episode begins with them realizing Jimmy is just plain GONE. Clark swept the campsite. The forest. No sign. He's not answering their phone calls. Lois agrees to go help find him, but NOT cuz she wants to be around Clark. But because Jimmy needs them. During it, she reveals she knows a ton about tracking people through the woods cuz her dad took her on wilderness survival weekends.

If you know anything about the comics, you'll know what this is leading up to. Her dad wasn't just being all super prepared...her dad wasn't just military. He's General Lane. He's the bad guy in charge of Task Force X.

They find his phone and...holy crap! Bigfoot is real and it kidnapped Jimmy! Well...not exactly. It's Monsieur Mallah and the Brain.

Jimmy however is actually super psyched that he's gonna be killed by a talking French gorilla and a brain-robot thing that can hover. Mallah and him bond, Jimmy getting to look around the laboratory the two came from. The Brain was a human, Mallah an ordinary gorilla, and they were in Cadmus's research lab, designed not around big fancy weapons, but around more "make cool stuff" in that regard, like mutants, or analyzing portals to other worlds, and of course in Mallah's case...creating superintelligent gorillas. Task Force X however came in and tried to shut it all down, a black hole sort of went off and it destroyed the Brain's body, but Mallah saved his...well...brain.

Meanwhile, Clark and Lois find a graveyard of dead soldiers. They tried to get in and failed miserably. And why? Well...see...that alien tech that keeps popping up got left behind. And it activates when Clark accidentally bumps over it with his foot. Worse still, Mallah and the Brain have been shielding themselves, keeping hidden with a red sun energy generator...which means Clark's powers aren't working well.

But Lois wants to know why Clark has never even told JIMMY the truth, when Jimmy's known even longer after Clark admits he's told Lois more about himself than anyone. She asks "Were your feelings towards me a lie" and he asks how she can think that...juuuuuuust before the robot swarms show up to get them.

They manage to barely get away but Clark takes an onslaught of lasers to his chest, blowing his clothing off except his pants and...

Well...hot damn. Super abs on display.

Seeing this, Lois is obviously concerned. She asks how he knew he was bulletproof and he says "I didn't. I just knew YOU weren't". Lois is now, obviously, feeling guilty about doubting what Clark had told her before and all that.

Through all this, Jimmy's been finding more and more secrets of the Brain and Mallah. They had said the black hole generator there had been shut down...but they kiiiinda sorta set it off to begin with to fake their deaths and cover their escape, and they've got it working again to try and stabilize it, so they can go to another dimension where they can live in peace.

So they've sort of...kiiiinda lied a LITTLE about the circumstances of how they ended up here. But hey, as long as the power stays on-

Theeeeen the power fluctuates as Clark barely manages to get the big steel front doors open. At first it looks like Mallah and the Brain are gonna fight, but then Jimmy insists they talk it out. Clark and Lois apologize for ignoring Jimmy and not going on the camping trip with him and Clark's about to tell him the truth of him being Superman, but Jimmy is like "I KNOW you're Superman, you tore the handle off our door at college, I've known all this time". And he's also mad that Lois was told before he was. Though technically Lois wasn't "told", she found out. But Clark says they have robots chasing them, can they discuss this later?

They all try to fight them off, and we learn they're "OMACS", the head fighting force of Task Force X, which attacked Mallah and Brain years ago. Things look bad cuz Clark's powers are on the fritz and during the firefight Jimmy and Lois ask why Clark didn't just tell the truth and he says he was scared.

"All I've ever wanted was to be normal...I don't want you to treat me like an alien. I just want to be your friend."

Jimmy tells him he doesn't have to worry, they're friends with him cuz of WHO he is, not WHAT. And Lois says she just wants him to be open with them. This...gives Mallah an idea. "Open"! They've got to get the black hole open to stabilize it...and they open it enough to suck in the robots, and Clark's JUST able to hold on long enough to keep them steady while the black hole is then stabilized.

With the robots gone, Mallah and Brain decide they have to leave and it's clear Lois and Clark have patched their relationship up as they hold hands. Brain brings up how the tech, the red sun radiation field, the robots...all of it reacted to HIM. Cadmus set up shop there around 22 years ago...the same time Clark landed on Earth. All of this has to do with him, and this means the head of Task Force X is gunning for him, and he's a super patriot who would blot the sun out if he thought it would help his nation. He's got to be careful.

Not long after, General Lane shows up, realizing the place was recently vacated. SOMEBODY'S been there...and not long ago. But there's still a bunch of tech lying around and he wants Dr. Ivo, his prisoner, to work on putting it to use...to destroy Superman.

Heyyy, wait a minute, this guy's hair was all gone last time we saw him. How'd he get it back?

Still...I liked the episode a lot. I was a bit annoyed they never addressed the whole hypocrisy argument, but as long as Lois doesn't KEEP doing things like stealing people's IDs to sneak into places or the like, aka, lying to get a story, AFTER promising Clark no more lies, then it should be fine.

#my adventures with superman #Superman #Lois #Clark #jimmy olsen #cartoons #dc comics

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littleoddwriter · 9 months ago

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Update:

it's been a little over 3 weeks and... I had to quit the clinic/leave early. which obviously derails the plans I've had completely. which is annoying and very frustrating and elicited feelings & thoughts I hate to have. but it was the right decision. this clinic was horrible for me and only made me more unstable with every day that I was there (didn't think that was possible, lol).

(details and a bit of a rant under the cut)

while, usually, it makes sense for things to get a little worse first before it gets better, this was not the case here. I didn't feel comfortable with the staff. the doctors and therapists seemed very dismissive and hectic to me. the organisation and communication were crap. (like... how the fuck do I have five doctors/therapists in a room with me, discussing what meds to give me, only for them to not have a single clue about that a week later (after not giving me the meds because they Forgot...) and not believe me when I repeated what THEY told me. only for the meds to have lactose in them (I'm lactose intolerant) and so of course I reacted (they KNEW I had an issue with lactose and still gave them to me. I wouldn't even have known what was in them if I hadn't looked up the package insert online...) like what the actual fucking fuck). I've been to 2 clinics before and it was far better there, which is great and I'm glad I had something to compare my experience there to because sometimes I thought I might be overreacting, but I explained it to both of my social workers independently and they both agreed that it was Not Good. I already felt that way on my very first day there, but decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and just wait and see for two weeks at least. but alas, it only got worse for me. I also sat down with one of the doctors and one of the therapists and my social worker last week to talk my issues and my fears through with them; but again, they just didn't even try to help. (basically, what that talk came down to was that "[they] can't do more than what [they're] doing already (virtually Nothing) and it's solely on me to make the best of it or quit otherwise". obviously, I know that myself. I was looking for some guidance and help. some sort of advice. maybe a recommendation for someplace else. just... something. i explicitly asked for it, too. and I would have gotten that at those two other clinics I went to before because they actually cared about helping me. just for comparison's sake. instead, I was busy explaining my issues (more than I listed here, and I didn't exactly say that I had issues with the staff because duh but y'know, there were enough other issues that came up anyway) three times to make them somewhat 'understand' and have my social worker reiterate how badly I've been doing and how much help I need and that I'm feeling very helpless and alone; even while I'm there.)

for anyone that ever considers going to a mental health clinic: you should feel like you can actually talk to somebody if needed. you should feel safe. you should feel like you'll be caught when falling. you should never feel like you have to manage on your own completely. mental hospitals are for support and management. the staff should be a shoulder to lean on, a listening ear, a guiding hand, a safe haven that you can practice in/with. if that is not what you encounter at the hospital, you should look for a different one (if possible).

anyway. I've been debating with myself for over a week whether or not I should actually quit and I couldn't really decide until this Tuesday. that was the first day I was back at the clinic after five whole days off (because of the holidays), and it was like Hell on earth. it only showed me that if I had to do this every day for 3 to 5 more weeks, I'd break down completely and can go to a closed psychiatry right after, which is exactly what I've been trying to prevent with this clinic, of course. that's how bad it'd been for me there.

something that's been frustrating me most about this clinic and the dismissiveness of the staff I encountered, though, is that they were very clearly not equipped for a patient like me (somebody with severe symptoms, several different disorders, unprocessed traumas, etc.), and that they should have felt responsible enough to tell me that when I came in for a first talk in December to be put on the waiting list for a spot at the clinic. the whole point of this first talk is to assess whether or not this clinic is the right space for me, if they are equipped for somebody like me. instead they just waved me through and now I was forced to have that realisation on my own and become increasingly angry toward the staff because it's very irresponsible of them. most other patients I encountered there had depression, anxiety, and/or burn-out and were already on their way to getting better. and this clinic helped them gain back control, learn to manage better, etc. and for a lot of them it helped them. that's great and I'm happy for them! but it's very clear that that is what this clinic is truly for. not for someone like me. and they know that, in my opinion, they should know that, at least. and they should have told me to look for a different clinic instead because this wasn't the one for me. (but from what I've been told by other patients they really just let anyone in there...)

my social workers and I are working on making sure I can find something else (not a clinic for now tho). hopefully, I can get stabilised with the different approach we've been looking into, so I can do the second clinic stay (at the one I've been to before) I've mentioned in my original post.

anyway... that's the update. I wish it was a happier/more optimistic one. but alas, maybe next time!

take care! <3

#i never quit anything unless i absolutely have to because it'd kill me otherwise (not exaggerating) lol i hate it hereee #again this is mostly for myself to look back on because sometimes i do treat my blog like a journal lol #but in case somebody was actually curious about how it's been going... dhhskfdhkjhsk sorry about the rant in that case lmfao #also if anyone is reading this and wondering why i make the staff responsible for not telling me to look for sth else immediately:#i've been turned away from several clinics & therapists before for the same reasons (that they weren't equipped for me)#it IS their responsibility to assess that and tell you that upfront. at least in my experiences of the past 5 years it was...#because if they actually care about helping people they'll know their part in possibly making things worse for someone-#-if they were to be without the right care. that's the whole point after all #jesse.talks

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kidmachinate · 1 year ago

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Privilege & Double Standards

This may be one of the most personal things I share on here with very little to mask with some sort of gaming reference outside of the picture used. Knowing I may have said this before, this likely will be the case more so than the last time I did. Short intro done, let's get into it.

We despise money, even though it is a mere tool. We love having it but then criticize others that also have it. Many times it comes down to how they acquire it. Whether they were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. I've always bounced between lower and middle class and have been fortunate enough to never grow up poor. Lots of status being talked about huh? What if I told you this all means nothing?

Knowing people that seem to not understand how to "check their privilege, I find myself caring less about how they got their funds and much more about how they chose to actually use it. They grow up in such a way and therefore must follow a certain narrative on how money is to be used, right? Come out of the box. It's okay. It doesn't have to be that way. Some "poor" people are know are kinder than others I know with plenty of money to toss around, so clearly status isn't the issue and we desperately need to stop treating it as such. While I do find myself guilty as charged as well from time to time saying "man if I had x amount of money" or "must be nice" instead of being happy for someone, I try my best to take my own advice here and think twice. Do I dislike the situation based on the measuring stick of wealth? Or do I dislike it because I've seen how the person behaves when they actually have money several times over, and they don't seem to care about giving back? The latter is far more important to me. The haves and have nots aren't something I care about. Given the same tools, I'd still go the route of budget and whatever is leftover, enhance my future or someone else's. Why not both? Money saved instead of getting a luxury item in favor of something practical plus a good time for me and/or a group of people is more valuable than being a status symbol for the Internet or people that probably don't even like or care for me in the way I may for them. This conversation gets more complex of course when you consider why many rich people donate to charities.

I never understood why money itself is so "evil" and how dare we talk about it. We literally need it for our day to day lives. Don't go getting financially naked with just anyone though. Getting caught with your pants down for people to just laugh at you or maybe worse, ignore you entirely, is never a good feeling. In that case maybe you do keep it to yourself. Privilege however isn't entirely just money. How about a manager that somehow got where they are and can literally afford to barely if ever be around but then make you go through hoops to get a day off or a remote work day. Do they have to go through these hoops? Probably not. Do they consider they were once in your position? If they are good boss, they will. If not, have fun not being able to focus on life sometimes during work hours. How about choices on where to go work due to the connections? Meanwhile others have to filter through various (probably crap) job openings? How about having a car vs not having one? Imagine knowing someone you care about not having a car and you know they need groceries and just being like nah, can't help you. You don't owe anyone anything, sure, but do your feelings go out the window directly because of money or job status? No. It's the person. Not the money, not the degree, not the job status.

Taking all this at face value, this makes you rethink perhaps people you may know and what you may want to give to a person. How often you may want to hang out. What kind of connection you will have. If you consider doing a nice thing for from time to time. Ok the flip side, sometimes you're shocked about who comes through for you or why. You'd be shocked at people taking a hard stance towards "this person has all this stuff and I don't", but then just are perfectly fine with handouts to the point where they don't look nearly as poor as they are putting out there. Furthermore, let's also not entertain conversations to improve this for ourselves and better well being. Let's run a narrative instead of how bad things are, when they actually aren't, for the sake of your reputation. Something else that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. This all sounds bad doesn't it?

I don't think people are always bad alongside thinking there are many out there that just suck. Thing is, it isn't my default. It's not like my thinking when I go driving any day that ends in Y in Florida. You could say this is a double standard. You'd be right. Instead of making a snap judgment, I'm willing to look at the whole situation. Rich or poor, if someone isn't gonna help me, I'm still in the same situation, and how much they have doesn't change that. It is why it is easy for me personally to ignore politics. Without getting into specifics, I think many can agree both recent Presidents have been not so great in the U.S. for their own reasons. I'm allowed to think this without having to get into a conversation about which is the greater evil. I can but I don't have to. We're focused on the wrong things. This is where it gets tricky and somewhat self centered.

You have to focus on you. What about everyone else? Hopefully you and your spouse are mostly on the same page for moving forward. Now what? Friends and Family. Take the salary out of the equation. Who would have your back and it doesn't even have to be based on money at all? Keep that short list. Keep the rest at arms length or ditch where necessary. It sounds mean, but you have to do this for your own good. When we do this however, we don't reserve space to talk crap about them later. If you're doing that you haven't come to terms yet and/or are wasting time on what doesn't matter. No one gets respect for being a keyboard warrior and you just wasted time and emotional energy. Imagine being a keyboard warrior all day and not having to pay bills. Probably a bad person, right? Maybe. How about if you get this person out and with others. Are they nurturing? Since they have no bills essentially, will they pay for themselves and/or support someone who might not being able to afford something since they have the privilege to do so?

People are allowed to live their own lives. So are you. Focus more on how you're living yours and ones that enrich yours. There may be things outside of this that upset you, but ultimately has nothing to do with you. Let it go and focus on your goals and your tribe. We'd love a Black and White world but it is rarely if ever that simple. I just don't know or care to keep looking beneath the surface as I have with others, when they have shown hard proof that they don't care about others or me (if trying to maintain a close relationship with them) time and time again. I believe both in seeing the greater good in someone, alongside kicking someone to the curb. If they show their hand, believe it. Believe more in your goals and your tribe. Having been through two work roles this year and some lost or changing friend relationships, you can get more than ever I'm focused on the tool (money) to push forward. This can be used to strengthen relationships within the tribe and my future which includes my lovely partner. Priorities. We are in desperate need for a respec when it comes to those. Start by turning off some notifications on what you're probably reading this on. Your phone.

/rant

#privilege #double standards #life #choices #priorities

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helleanorlance · 2 years ago

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I have developed a new method for cleaning up clutter that seems to actually be working, so I thought I would share it in case there is anyone else out there who really struggles with this. It's probably going to be kind of long, so I'll put the rest under a cut.

I will start by saying: I am not good at cleaning. I am a messy person. My living space is pretty much always chaos, in part because of my natural tendencies and in part due to mental illness. And I am not the kind of person who is saying "Oh, I'm so messy" and in reality I have a few things tossed on a chair and a pair of shoes in the middle of the floor. I am the kind of messy that involves mountains.

And I hate living that way. I have been trying to get my bedroom in order for literal years and I have not been able to do it. I tend to get overwhelmed trying to put things away because I don't know where they should go, or I need to rearrange something, or a whole host of other reasons.

So I've stopped trying to put things away. Instead, I've started going through my room like it's a grid, and sorting every single thing into a bag or a box. I don't worry about where something goes, I just worry about what it is. Is it clothing? It goes in the clothing bag, unless it's dirty, in which case is goes in the laundry bag. Decor? There's a box for that. Unopened mail that you feel like you should look at to make sure it's not important? There's a bag for that, too.

There is one key elements to making this work: every single thing MUST go into a bag or box. You cannot put anything to the side to deal with later. If it doesn't fit into any of your bags, start a new one. It does not matter how many bags you have, it just matters that everything gets sorted in some way. You can even have a bag of "things I don't know what to do with".

I haven't gotten through everything, so I cannot promise that this will work. And obviously, everyone is different. And then, of course, this might be in all of the books about cleaning your house and it's obvious to everyone, but it feels like a huge epiphany for me. Because after a few days of working 10-15 minutes on sorting everything, I have made more progress than I normally would in weeks. There is an actual, noticeable difference in my room. And it is making my life SO much better.

The plan is that once I get things sorted, I will have the ability to temporarily move the bags out of my room and deep clean everything, and then take the bags one by one and start putting things away. Because my shelves/bedside table/floor/chairs/etc will no longer be covered in crap, I will actually be able to put things away, and will have a good way to look at what I want to have in my bedroom, what I don't want to have there but don't want to get rid of (which can be put in a different room or boxed up for storage), and what I want to get rid of.

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tm95-snarl · 2 years ago

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I’ve had my 2 hour nap. And my 5 hour panic attack. Burgh called a Nurse Joy for me. Nurse Joy and Audino helped me calm down. Breathing exercises and Heal Pulse helped. Nurse Joy said she recommended I have some health tests done, and I get some extra vaccines that I need. I can do that. But first, I’m going to list some evidence. To help me think something through.

I can’t take a punch like my family can. Bugs don’t bother my little cousins. Bug type bites hurt me a lot, I had to get specialist treatment when a nest of small durant bit me but my cousins don’t need care for their bug bites. Every therapist that I’ve went to had psychic types as a helper and I ended up quitting therapy because they couldn’t literally read my mind. Which is too high of an expectation now that I think about it, but the ones who specifically advertised it as a service couldn’t ever do it to me.

The “therapy” when I was a kid. It wasn’t just teaching (forcing) me how to mask my autism. It was teaching (forcing) me how to not act like a Zorua. I bet the stupid mirror therapy where I had to practice facial expressions and shit for hours on end after I had to stare at pictures of my dads and moms faces and body language was to get me to get me to look like them. Was the whole “no, you can’t talk to Pokémon, that’s just a silly kid make believe thing” even right?!?

My dietary issues. Onions and garlic hurting my stomach. Every time I go in the fish market I have to hold myself back from just grabbing a raw fish and eating it. My families long history of lactose intolerance.

When I entered college, the blood tests for certain diseases said I tested positive for pokerus. I had to quarantine for a month before they told me it wasn’t an active case.

The sudden change I had around half a year ago. I suddenly could do so much more things. I felt more, more alive and myself. I wasn’t terrified of driving anymore. I didn’t have any more of my small blackouts. I could just do like ‘adult crud’ without screwing up completely. Dang it, I bet I evolved then.

“Why do you want that Zorua? Isn’t it creepy? It’s a dark type. It has illusions. It isn’t safe. Why not a nice pidove? Or a patrat? Or a sewaddle like your aunt Isla? Your uncle Jolt’s galvantula just laid eggs, you can have a joltic! A munna would be great for your nightmares! An Audino would be a perfect Pokémon for your health! A timburr! A minnichino! A lillipup! A venipede! No dark types! Anything but the Zorua, even a Trubbish would be better than that!” That’s why they didn’t like Prince Shade! That’s so messed up.

“We don’t use Pokeballs, they aren’t safe.” That’s why! This is why!

They knew! I bet they knew! This is messed up!

Are they some sort of Pokémon too?!?

My family, on my moms side, have always been extra resistant, or rarely even immune, to usually not malicious ghost types tricks and extra tough at taking punches. They do tend to be hurt a lot by the nastier pranks and dirtier fighting that dark types tend to like. I always chalked that up to the scholarly bent to our families little culture, and the endurance we have to have to survive our families genetic health issues. Our family patriarch preached that we were all born with hate in our hearts, all of us as a species, and that it’s something we have to overcome and be kind. I thought he meant humanity - that’s part of why I didn’t see Team Plasma and Neo Plasma as wrong. Maybe he meant as a species of Pokémon?

I have to call my mom.

But first, some medical tests. I am comfortable with medical tests. I trust Nurses. Crap, the Nurses all probably found out and didn’t say anything cuz they thought I knew and was keeping it a secret. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone in a position of power has done for me other than the doctors who worked so hard to keep me alive when I came into this world an early runt.

#pkmn oc #real pkmn #pkmn rp #pkmn irl #pokereality #pokeblr #pokeblogging #pokemon rp #pokemon irl #real pokemon #unreality #pokeblog rp #tm95-snarl #snarls originals #Prince Shade #tw ableism #ableism tw #snarls angst #snarls species

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that-banana-headed-bovine · 7 months ago

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I'm not even 100% sure of what to ADD because, other than the eps I haven't seen yet, this is exactly how I feel as well HAISHDOS

I will say, I feel like TDR Karr and KvK Karr are practically different characters, like I have no problem saying I sympathize with him because to me he is an emotionally stunted sweet boy like in TDR, and KvK was just. him in the worst timeline having absolutely lost his shit. I will say, even in this timeline I don't think he was actually intending on killing anyone other than Michael.... so he's still a better person than like most of the villains in this show.

I guess I do have two more for y'all

I really do like April. The circumstances of her being added to the show suuuuck, and I get how some people would find it hard to look past, but as her own character she's great. It's like a look into an alternate timeline where instead of the mechanic character being straight-laced she was instead just as chaotic if not more than Michael. I don't like how she was in Return to Cadiz but other than that, great character.

The Goliath Returns two-parter is ACTUALLY so uncomfortably realistic and vivid with the villain plans that I genuinely do not enjoy it. Like, say what you will about KvK and the scene with Mandy, but I don't think that can really hold a candle to the way Garthe taunts the whole main cast as he gleefully plans to kill them, Garthe harasses April in an explicit manner, Garthe through his henchmen taunts Kitt's life too except in an even more effed up way where he'd basically be a slave for the rest of forever in Goliath???, and worst of all, how Adrienne harasses Michael in a similarly explicit way to April, except cranked to 100 and with some horrific implications caused by an ad break. I may be a little overdramatic here and fueled by first watch emotions, but I genuinely don't plan on rewatching to find out bc I felt icky the whole time. There are episodes that are worse quality-wise, but there are none I'd like to watch less.

and potentially 3. I am very conflicted on how to feel about Devon, like in general. I used to outright hate him I won't lie to you, I uh I've come to my senses about that he's mostly a good character, but I do think the fandom glorifies him more than is seemingly earned. Likeee, he's definitely a sort of father figure to Bonnie and at times Michael but it's hard for me to give him that credit when it comes to Kitt, he's kinda cold to Kitt most of the time. He also perpetuates the stuuupid "you can't tell her because it's dangerous even though if anything her knowing that bad people are after you could help her in case of an emergency know who to call and why but we don't talk about that part it's daaangewous" trope with Stevie when Michael probably would have told her the truth, and I haaaate that trope DC's Arrowverse killed it for me forever it's just awful. I wish he'd have been able to interact with Kitt alone ,,, EVER? And I wish that the things he said to Kitt didn't usually boil down to "stop complaining smh my head"... and I wish he was more sensitive to Michael's feelings about the literal love of his life. ALSO am I going crazy or does the first Goliath two-parter kinda imply a love affair situation going on w him and Elizabeth? So much for being a loyal friend to Wilton, I guess

hot take like 3.5, y'all a lot of Kitt's dialogue is so cringeyyy holy crap like I love the snarky smart boy that we all know and love and that's how the fandom portrays him most of the time, but the show itself isn't afraid to have him like ogle at women a bit which is weeeird because he's a friggen car or say stuff that makes no fricken sense for him to say or like how in Cadiz he got really fixated on pirates for some reason or he just like copies stuff from his surroundings that genuinely I don't think he'd be caught dead saying bc it's slang and it's kind of cute but also feels weirdly out of character and like writers why why'd you have to be so 80s. I still love HIM I just don't think the writers . understood him like I do #delusion

Let’s do something fun.

To the 5 people in the KR fandom here, repost and give me your Knight Rider hot-takes!

I’ll go first. Here’s a couple of mine.

1. Maybe not a hot take but The Scent Of Roses was the perfect finale, and should have been the season and series ending.

2. KITT’s character fell flat at many points in s4. It was disappointing to me honestly.

3. I’m still 50/50 on KARR even after like 100+ watch throughs of this show- I sympathize with him but then I also see him how FLAG sees him.

4. I absolutely love the dynamic between Bonnie and Michael and how it evolves from him hitting on her, to realizing she’s not going to fall for his crap, to practically siblings.

5. Again this one probably isn’t a hot take, but I do believe after Knight Of The Juggernaut, RC3 was severely underused, and practically all of his potential was lost.

6. I enjoy watching KITTNAP

7. TDR > KVK minus KARR’s look, because if we are going for looks, it’s KVK > TDR

8. Some of the best episodes are when Michael’s past are brought into it.

9. I would have loved to see more references to Michael’s past, specifically the Vietnam part.

10. I wanted so badly to have more backstory to both KITT and KARR, Devon, Bonnie, and RC3.

Can’t wait to see what you all have to offer!

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oldtoothgun · 8 years ago

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movies on uk netflix worth watching (that ive seen) (in my opinion)

anastasia (1997) stunningly historical inaccurate but the songs are great and its fun

rise of the guardians (2012) remember when everyone was obsessed with this lmao? anyway its a fun and cute kids movie

the adventures of sharkboy and lavagirl (2005) just for the laffs

kung fu panda (2008) its good!

kung pu panda 2 (2011) its good too!

green room (2015) gross gore effects cool plot good acting whats not to luv

creep (2014) ik this ones kinda polarising but i thought it was pretty good and creepy!

the craft (1996) classic!! bitchy gothy goodness

would you rather (2013) jeffrey combs seeing what gross shit desperate people will do for money? loves it!

the invitation (2015) one of my favourite movies of recent years. could talk about for hours! slowly creepingdinner party horror flick

burlesque (2010) 119 minutes of blatant moulin rogue, cabaret and chicago rip offs and christina aguilera fannig her ego and i enjoy it thouroughly every time

dreamgirls (2006) one of the best movie musicals in my opinion. the sheer raw power and talent in this movie!!

footloose (2011) bad movie but its 1 of the 20 movies miles teller has been in and i’ll take what i can get. also he dances and has a southern accent and wears a cowboy hat ad thats all pretty good.

a single man (2009) colin firth? julianne moore? matthew goode? tom ford? christopher isherwood? in all honestly tho this movie is beautiful.

whiplash (2014) you probably already know. miles teller again as well.

aileen: life and death of a serial killer (2003) documentary about aileen wuornos. its really sad and insightful. worth a watch.

escorts (2015) very nsfw documentary about two escorts living in london. its really interesting and quite funny.

labyrinth (1986) you already know.

boys dont cry (1999) this movie is harrowing as shit and might make you want to die but hilary swank, chloe sevigny and peter sarsgaard put in brilliant performances. i have a LOT of opinions on this movie, not all of them good, but its a pretty good watch.

jackie brown (1997) better than pulp fiction!

the drop (2014) tom hardy and puppy?!?!?!

amanda knox (2016) another really good documentary.

gone girl (2014) you probably have already seen this.

we need to talk about kevin (2011) creepy and good

layer cake (2004) daniel craigs in it and tom hardys there as well. idk why but ive got this on dvd. crime movie.

legally blonde (2001) classic!!! but seriously this movie is really funny and good

uptown girls (2003) brittany murphy being beautiful and lovely :’(

a series of unfortunate events (2004) no matter how much he tries, neil patrick harris will never be jim carrey

arthur christmas (2011) this is my favourite christmas movie i cry every time i watch it and i will until i die at age 39

nativity! (2009) another christmas movie i cry at every time. they did it !

fantastic mr fox (2009) the detail in this movie is just lovely. and so is the soundtrack.

bratz: the movie (2007) shaped me as a person

shrek 2 (2004) classic

eddie the eagle (2016) i love taron egerton i love hugh jackman this movie goes!

funny girl (1968) barbara streisand man.

hotel for dogs (2009) lots of dogs in this one.

annie (2014) very cute

charlie bartlett (2007) i watched this in like 2007 going through aton yelchins filmography and its a pretty dece teen flick

just my luck (2006) lindsey lohan, chris pine, mcfly. whats not to love!

21 and over (2013) agai, shitty movie, but miles teller is in it

legally blonde 2: red, white and blonde (2003) this ones got gay dogs in it!

monsters vs aliens (2009) when i was a kid i used to pretend i was in this movie

the duff (2015) not as awful as you think itll be

flushed away (2006) ive seen this movie so many times man

angus, thongs and perfect snogging (2008) another classic

fargo (1996) blood has been shed, jerry

birdman (2014) its alright

the big short (2015) again, its alright

the big lebowski (1998) yeah well thats just like your opinion man

super (2010) rainn wilson is a gem

kingman: the secret service (2015) exceeds expectations greatly

hunt for the wilderpeople (2016) taika waititi knows what hes doing

seven psychopaths (2012) i love colin farrell i love sam rockwell i love martin mcdonagh.

drive (2011) youve proabaly seen people raving about this and for good reason! its good! good acting good soundtrack good lookin its got everything. fair bit of violence and fast cars too.

the nice guys (2016) funny and all that. my favourite film of last year. ryan gosling and russell crowe work so well together.

turbo kid (2015) great little movie. post apocalyptic 80s nostalgia gore goodness. netflix describes it as: offbeat, violent

night of the comet (1984) like totally underrated 80s sci fi horror. two teenage girls wake one one day to find everyone turned into dust. its brilliant

coherence (2013) if you liked the invitation youll like this one. indepentant sci fi thriller set at a dinner party. you have to think a little though.

star trek into darkness (2013) aw i went to see this on my 14th birthday

under the skin (2013) this movie is brilliant. netflix says: chilling, scary, cerebral, steamy

watchmen (2009) worth it for the opening titles alone

equilibrium (2002) GUN KATA

the lobster (2015) this movie is so left field and weird. high hopes for the killing of a sacred deer yorgos!

ex machina (2015) 2015 was such a good year for movies. oscar isaac, domnhall gleeson and alicia vikander are all brilliant

what we do in the shadows (2014) funniest movie ive ever seen. taika working his magic again. if youve met my dad, he’s probably told you to watch it

sing street (2016) funny and good.

let the right one in (2008) kid vampires!

from beyond (1986) one of my fav films ever. i wanna be jeffrey combs so bad.

starry eyes (2014) first time i watched this i thought it sucked but second time around i thought it was weird and cool and its got some good gross bits!

#luks #in no particular order #netflix #in case this help anyone sort through the crap

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five-rivers · 3 years ago

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Life's Great Lie 7

It was early in the morning when she got the call. Sixish. The other numbers on the clock didn’t register to her.

“Hey,” said Tucker, “guess what government agency I just hacked.”

Sam sat up, all traces of sleep gone. Her hand curled around the wing of the nearest stuffed bat. “You found him?”

“Sort of. Ever hear of SHIELD?”

“No,” said Sam. “Is it part of the GIW?” Ever since the Fentons came back without Danny and locked themselves in Fentonworks, that had been her biggest fear.

“I found them through the GIW, but they seem to be partitioned pretty well, along with something called HYDRA…”

“What, like World War Two HYDRA?”

“You know them?”

“They were one of Hitler’s science divisions,” said Sam. “They… My great-grandparents were rescued from one of their camps by Captain America.”

Tucker paused. “Funny you should mention Captain America,” he said, the words almost tumbling over each other. “Because apparently, he works for SHIELD. Or with SHIELD? It’s a little unclear, actually. I’m not sure he’s getting paid.”

“Focus, Tucker,” said Sam. “How is Danny involved?”

“He’s been mind controlled by an evil clown.”

“What? Freakshow?”

“No, this one’s green and Norse god themed. Loki. Has a scepter, too, though, which is a weird coincidence. And he’s from space.”

“An evil green clown from outer space is mind controlling Danny?” That was… an eclectic bundle of traits, even for them. Like someone had thrown darts at a board of character concepts. Or took Freakshow, swapped his palette and made him an alien.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

“And making him fight Iron Man and Captain America in… Germany. Stuttgart, Germany. Oh, this is live.”

“You have eyes on him?” She swung her feet over the side of her bed and reached for her laptop.

“Electronic ones, but yeah. Gotta love the body cam trend. I’m sending you the footage on a secure link, but I’ll have to delete it, after. I don’t want to show up if they investiga—”

Sam, having just clicked on the link, swore. “He’s human, Tucker.”

“Yep, I know.”

“He’s fighting them as a human. That means they know who he is.”

“Yeah.”

Clearly, the problem with that wasn’t clicking for him. “That means they know who we are.”

“Crap,” said Tucker. “Plan?”

“Not much we can do to help Danny, but… He didn’t hurt anyone in that fight. Not seriously.”

“I think Captain America cleared thirty feet on that throw, so…”

“Captain America’s abilities are well documented. He’ll live. I think Danny is fighting this, or at least working around it. We can’t trust SHIELD if they’re associated with the GIW and HYDRA, even a little bit, so… We need to find out where they keep prisoners, in case they catch Danny, and figure out how to stay away from them. They’re going to come looking for us eventually.”

There was a tapping sound from the other side of the line. “Ghost weapons will only get us so far.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam. “Secret government agency versus two teens armed with weapons that only hurt dead people. Three, if Jazz gets back soon. Not much math there.”

“Objection. The Fenton Anti-Creep Stick can hurt a wide variety of people.”

“It’s just a baseball bat with the name Fenton painted on it in phase-proof paint. Not much good against bullets.” She knelt on the floor and reached under her bed. After a moment of groping, she pulled out a thermos. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Is it some variation of sneak over to Germany and hit Danny with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick until he snaps out of it?”

“We don’t even know if that will work,” said Sam. “It didn’t with Freakshow.”

“We couldn’t even hit him when he was with Freakshow.”

“You think that’s changed? No. Even if he can’t go ghost for some reason, he actually knows how to dodge now. I was thinking about a trip to the museum.”

“You’re right, I don’t like it.”

“It’s the best weapon we have access to, and I trust you.”

“I don’t trust me. Besides, do you really think that a second mind control scepter is the thing we need right now?”

“We need something.”

Tucker sighed. “How are we even going to get it? It’s in a museum.”

“I haven’t been able to empty the thermos since Danny’s parents came back. It’s almost full.”

“Oh, no,” said Tucker.

Releasing the Box Ghost (among other sundry minor animal and blob ghosts) into the museum caused a predictable amount of chaos, especially when the staff sprinted into back rooms and downstairs to protect the archives. They still used boxes and crates for that, here. Rookie move.

“Come on,” said Sam, making sure her hoodie was on and her blaster was primed. Tucker, with his PDA and ‘ghost noise’ generator, followed behind. With all their precautions, they’d hopefully wouldn’t be identifiable on the security cameras.

Duulaman’s Scarab Scepter sat in the display case in front of them. She raised her blaster and fired. The glass broke.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Tucker, hand hovering in front of him.

“Yeah, but we can try something else if you’re really worried about it. You stopped yourself last time. You controlled it.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker. He swallowed. “Okay. I’ve got this.”

He picked up the staff, and the museum dissolved in a whirl of sand. They were standing on top of a dune, pyramids in the distance. Tucker’s fingers looked bloodless from the stress of his grip.

“Tucker,” said Sam, cautiously.

“It’s okay,” said Tucker. “I can do this. Just. Give me a second.”

The sand swirled again, and they were in Tucker’s bedroom. He dropped the staff with a gasp. A fine layer of sand drifted to the floor.

“That was,” he said, “something. I could.” He covered his mouth with one hand. “I could take us to Germany,” he said, voice harsher than usual.

“We don’t know if Danny is still there,” said Sam.

“R- Right,” said Tucker. “I need to—I need to sit down.”

Mrs. Foley’s voice rose from downstairs. “What agency did you say you worked with again, Mr. Coulson?”

#danny phantom #op!danny x marvel #dp/marvel crossover #dannymay

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zoros-bandana · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I'm loving your writing! I hope you don't mind this is my first request! Can i get a scenario where Sabo fell in love with a fem crewmember of the strawhat pirates? make the fem crewmember a tsundere tho pls? thankies! And keep up the good work!

Hi lovely thank you so much! I am not overly sure how you envisioned this request but I saw it as sort of a confession type post so I hope that's alright :)

Hot and Cold

(SFW)

Warning: swearing

Summary: After being apart of your crew for a while, Sabo finally tracks you down to confess his feelings

Word Count: 1,200

________________________________________

His large blue eyes sweetly watched you across the room; intended to approach you that night and admit his feelings for you. You pretended to ignore him, turning away to your crew members who shielded you from his gaze.

When he had first met you he was instantly bewitched.

You on the other hand were not so convinced.

He stuck around your crew far longer than you wished, his actions so soft and alluring to appease you. He was proud of his progress, knowing you had eased up around him more than when you had first met; now it was up to him to seal it once and for all.

———————————————

“And this is (y/n)” Luffy beamed, finishing his introduction of his crew to his older brother. Sabo’s eyes delicately floated over you all before landing on you; an enchanting smile gracing his lips.

He glided over to you, gently wrapping his hand in your own, his body standing close over your own. “A true pleasure to meet with you, beautiful”. His eyes were kind; you could see that. But you also didn’t want to fold so easily for a blond man engaging in eye contact. Heck, you would’ve fallen for the cook if this was the case.

You yanked your hand away from his, wiping it on your pant leg in disgust “unfortunately I can’t say the same…”

He stayed unfazed at your response, your toughness only intriguing him more, laughing at your unpredictable answer. As you stepped away from him, turning away to face your crew, he couldn’t help feel drawn to you; eager to break down the walls you built around your heart.

———————————————

You huddled yourself in between the surgeon and swordsman, hoping they would both be big enough to block the blue eyes that followed you. You were aware they had been following you all night; watching as you avoided him at any chance you could. Afraid what would happen if you spoke to him.

Both of the men blocking you knew about the sweet spot you had for the blond, teasing your tsundere antics towards him.

“Just admit that you like him…” Zoro grumbled, taking a swig from his drink “this game you’ve got going on is annoying… I just want to be left alone…”

“Shut up!” You smacked him on the head “all you have to do is sit there!”

Law exhaled sharply, amused by your need to stay hidden from Sabo; knowing your game as much as anyone else did. “Why did you drag us into this, (y/n)?” He questioned, moving aside to let a clear view of you between the boys be seen. You yelped, ducking behind Zoro, appreciating his stubbornness to move away.

“Because” you lowered your voice “if you hadn’t noticed… you’re 6 feet tall and he’s 6 feet wide; the perfect combination to shield me”.

“Oi!” Zoro snapped, moving aside much like the surgeon. You regrettably looked up, meeting the pair of blue eyes you were trying to desperately to avoid; watching as Sabo made a bee line towards where you sat.

“Crap” you mumbled, rising from your feet.

“Where are you going?” Law retorted “I thought we were the perfect combination to shield you?”

“May have changed my mind” you mumbled, walking towards the door.

Your steps picked up as you heard the sound of footsteps running behind you; his voice softly calling you. “(Y/n)! Wait, please”.

You ignored his pleas, weaving through the ships doors, attempting to lose him.

However, Sabo refused to give up.

And you knew he would.

You hated to admit it but you enjoyed how persistent he was with you; you never experienced this kind of consistency with anyone before. He wasn’t thrown off by your brush antics or aloof appearance. He was drawn to you far more than anyone you had ever encountered and the result of giving in to him terrified you.

His hand gripped into your arm stopping you from continuing, his frame encompassing you up against the wall blocking you in. His body pressed close to you, his breath ragged and shaken from chasing you around. “Please” he huffed, his hand slipping around your waist “just listen to me, please”.

You scoffed back your own shaken breath “why? Why would I want to listen to you? Leave me alone!”

You attempted to shuffle from his grip, his arms only wrapping tighter around you “let go of me!”

“Fine” he sighed “if you won’t listen to me I’ll just show you”.

“No! Sabo just let g-”

His lips found their way to yours easily, cutting you off from your words. Your breath hitched in your throat, shocked at his action but not overly surprised. His lips were soft and careful, wrapping around you so delicately like it was a dream, moulding so perfectly against you. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss; not minding as you stood there in shock against him.

Your hands shook, creeping their way up to circle around his neck, your eyes finally shutting as you gave in. He smirked against you, pulling you closer up to him, holding you as if you were made of glass. His lips parted open, gently prompting you to do the same; his tongue folding into your mouth exploring your cave. His hand slowly side to your face, cupping your cheek as he pulled away, satisfied by your response as he kissed you.

“I knew you felt the same…” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead “I knew that you loved me back…”

You gasped hearing his words, looking up at him with wide eyes; disbelieving what you heard. His other hand met your cheek, both hands gently cupping your face closer to him; his eyes watching you carefully. Your throat felt dry as you spoke; tears pricking at your eyes.

“You love me?”

“That’s right, (y/n); I love you”

You sniffled back your tears, shaking your head; projecting your voice as bitter as you could. “You idiot! Why?”

You stepped away from him, taking your chance to distance yourself from him “you can’t just say something like that to me”.

“Because you’re everything to me that I never knew I needed; and I can’t live without”

“That doesn’t make any sense” you spat “you lived perfectly fine before you joined my captain”

“Well don’t make me go back to living that way, (y/n)! I can’t now I know you exist!”

“And what makes you think I want that?”

“You kissed me back” he stepped towards you again, gripping your arms “I know you want this, too”.

“It was a mistake, Sabo! I wish it never happened”

“You don’t mean that” he seemed unfazed, seeing right through your words “I know you don’t. You always have acted like you don’t care about anything or anyone but I know you do. You care about me, I know it; don’t try and deny your feelings”

You huffed, looking away from him; needing to clear your head. You hated he was right. No matter how cold you were he would try his best to melt your walls; succeeding every time. He was gentle to you for reasons that still baffled you; but maybe that was for the best. He didn’t wish for reason to love you; he just did. And knowing that may just be enough to accept his love.

“You’re an idiot…”

“Yes” he smiled, pulling you into him “but I’m your idiot”

#doves requests #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece sfw #sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #sabo scenario #sabo imagine #sabo sfw

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lovelivingmydreams · 2 years ago

Text

Oh boy. This looks intense. I guess you guys just want to get right into it huh? Well here you go! Let us know if you liked it!!!

Roman’s mind was racing as he ducked in an alley to put on his costume. A million possibilities raced through his head. But he had to focus. Virgil was somewhere out there and needed him. Janus… He should try Janus first. He took out his phone and called the number, suddenly glad that the henchperson was added to their group chats. Luckily Janus answered quickly. “Hello?” “Jay. I can’t get a hold of Virgil. He should be home by now, we had plans and it’s not like him to be late without letting me know and I found his keys on the street. Have you heard anything from him?” he asked in a hurry as he walked out of the alley and tried to see if he could get something of a clue on Virgil. The rain was a real pain. He could smell some things but the rain was slowly washing away the trail. “Virgil is missing… um… Isn’t that like… Standard for him?” Janus tried, though Roman could tell they were worried too. “Jay, I know okay? Virgil mentioned getting friendly with a henchperson to me and it was really not that hard to put together. Please tell me if you heard anything. Anything at all that might help locate him,” Roman pleaded. He had no time to talk around secrets. “Oh… That is why… Alright, um… I haven’t heard anything but I can call around to some other guys I know. It’s not a secret V and me are kinda friends in the hench community so the others might be willing to share what they know,” they offered. “Thanks. I’ll ask Remus to do a sweep of the city and… I’ll let his family know,” Roman stated. That would be a fun call. “Alright. And Roman… He’ll be fine. He always is,” Janus promised. “Yeah, sure. Bye,” Roman said as he hung up. He really hoped so.

He called Remus and before his brother could even say hello he jumped in his explanation. No time. “Virgil is missing, can you sweep the city to see if you can get a location? Don’t engage. We have no clue what we are up against and you can’t be tied to any of my Prince activities… I just need you to see if you can get a visual on him and get me an idea on his location,” Roman rushed. “Whoah… alrigth. Um crap. Yeah, I’ll get on that,” Remus promised before hanging up. Roman took a deep breath. He had to get moving and do something before making his next call or he was going to have a panic attack in the middle of it. “You are somewhere in this town alone and scared, maybe tied down I wish to protect you from all things I could really use angel’s wings. Just to see your smile once more I will go farther than ever before. So please if anyone hears my call Give me the power to do it all.” The second he said his last words he felt himself get lifted by wings. It was a bit different than his usual flight like abilities. But he didn’t care. He scanned the city, looking for some sign of any sort of mad scientist or notorious villain scheme. He could feel his body tingle with untapped power. It reminded him of the first time ShockWave showed up. Right now though… He had to let Virgil’s family know. He really wished he’d asked Virgil for his dad’s number. Right now though, he’d have to go through Remy.

“Roman?” The detective sounded a bit annoyed if anything at being called. He might be on a date or on a case. It didn’t matter. Virgil was waiting for him. “Virgil didn’t show up at home, I found his panic button on the street… I don’t have your dad’s number but he should know as well,” he stated. Trying to be as brief and clear as possible. It was silent on the other end for an agonizing moment. “Remy?” Roman asked. Suddenly there was a clatter and voices in the background. “Hello? Who’s this?” Emile’s voice asked a moment later. “Roman, Virgil is missing,” Roman surmised. “Oh… Oh dear… Remy just ran off, that explains it… I’ll um… I’ll get off the line then and call Mr. Grimm. I hope Virgil is okay,” Emile offered. “Me too. Bye,” Roman bid. Hanging up just in time to get two messages. One from Janus who said one of his contacts had a guy who helped him get supplies for his boss’ machines and they had recently had someone purchase a bunch of stuff they intuitively knew to be shady, but there was no legal grounds to call it in. He was getting the name on the card for him but that might take a little longer. The other was from Remus. He hadn’t had visual on Virgil but he did encounter a very nifty computer in a very sus location. Right when Roman started heading in the direction Remus said he should go, Janus texted him with the name. Professor Jonathan Daniels. Virgil’s AI professor. Why would Virgil’s professor kidnap him? Virgil had spoken about him a few times, it seemed like he was a good teacher, a good man. Roman neared the district Remus had texted him and focused his heightened senses. From the list of purchases Janus gave him, he knew he had to look for the sound of machinery humming. And maybe, hopefully, Virgil’s voice.

His ears picked up on the sound of computers alright, but also banging, and a very muffled protest along with a placating voice and the occasional input from a computerized voice. He followed the sound to a nice, inconspicuous looking house. More specifically the basement. There was no window to the basement so Roman would have no creative ways to enter. He did a round around the house and found to his relief that the door to the yard wasn’t locked. He carefully entered the house, finding himself in the living room. It was so… normal here. Just a nice, comfortable looking seating area with a tv and some magazines on the coffee table. A bookcase with some novels and computer sciency looking books alike, along with some nicknacks collected on holidays or gifted by family. Pictures of said family hanging around the livingroom. Just a home for a single man who made a decent income as a leading expert in AI and a college professor. There was a little sidetable with a single picture, a candle and some flowers. A young woman was smiling back at Roman. The banging downstairs returned, more erratic now. He could now clearly hear it was Virgil’s voice, though upsettingly distorted, demanding to be let out. He made his way to the basement door. He’d have little time for this, he had no idea what he’d find down there. “Sofie, please bring the subject’s anxiety down, we can’t use agitated data,” the voice Roman would assume to belong to the professor instructed calmly. It fueled Roman’s rage. “Not a chance, just no way, you will not have him this day,” he growled, feeling his already substantial power reserve increase exponentially. Through gritted teeth he requested police and an ambulance to be sent to his location over the radio. He wasn’t sure what was going on in there, but by the end of this someone might need medical assistance. He took a deep breath and pushed the handle down. Unlocked. Ever so slowly he opened the door, careful for creaking. Once he had a visual on the situation downstairs he froze.

He saw the computer Remus had found. It was lined up against the wall on the right side of the door so he wouldn't have seen the actual eye-catcher of the room that stood along the wall right across from Roman now. A glass coffin filled with liquid and, most importantly, Virgil. His shirt was cut open and wires were running from his arms and chest and shaven temples. A mask on his face that was probably allowing him to breathe. Roman felt his heart pounding. Something was rising up in his chest, making it’s way to his throat. “John, I have prepped the mixture, are you sure you want to apply it before the previous dosage has burned out?” the computer wondered. “I want this to be over with as soon as possible Sophie. The quicker we have proper data the quicker he can go home,” Professor Daniels insisted as he observed the graphs on the screen in front of him. Roman didn’t know exactly what was going on. He did know that Virgil was trying his hardest to kick his containment open and that the professor was about to do something to him that might be dangerous. The thing making it’s way up his chest came out. It was a deep animalistic growl.

Before he could properly process that he leapt forwards and found himself on all fours. It was disorienting. He felt different. Looking up to the doctor and the screen behind him showed him his reflection. A lion. He was a golden lion with blazing manes and white glowing eyes, he could feel the tingling of power in every hair on his body. Oh this man had messed up. “Let him go!” he growled. “Who are you…” the spooked professor demanded. “I am the hero who shall not fail, I am the prince though now I have a tail,” he thought towards him, feeling like he’d be understood. “Poetry Prince,” the professor whispered in realization. He glanced at the coffin Virgil was in, his attempt to escape his confinement had not let up yet. “Sophie, help me,” he instructed. “Of course John. I should let you know that we got some new data,” the voice of the computer said as something powered up and there was a barely visible sort of shield between Roman, the professor and Virgil. Even if Roman could reach Virgil he didn’t want to risk breaking him out by force in these conditions. He also couldn’t risk damaging the computer that clearly was in control of keeping him alive. “Wonderful… We are close. Just a little more time,” professor Daniels muttered under his breath as he pressed some buttons and turned towards Roman. “I’m not your enemy. What I’m working on will save countless lives,” he promised. “At what cost?!” Roman demanded with the lion equivalent of a hiss. The banging became more erratic and Roman looked towards the coffin. Something was running through the tube leading to Virgil’s arm and Virgil was trashing about trying to break out. This was bad, what if the mask slipped off?

Roman turned back to the professor and let out a feral growl, throwing himself at the shield clawing at it. He was fairly sure that he could cut through steel with his teeth and claws right now. But the barrier didn’t yield. It didn’t hurt him either though. The defensive measures were not aggressive in nature. Slamming against the wall did help Roman get a grip on himself again. He’d lost himself in his anger. He didn’t like how that felt. He had to get a grip or risk losing himself to the animalistic urge to bite and claw at his opponent. He had to focus. He glared at the barrier, trying to figure out a way around it. “He’s having a panic attack! He’ll get hurt!” He growled. That seemed to make the professor hesitate and look back to his screen. Just then Roman’s eyes zeroed in on a specific piece of machinery and on instinct he let out a loud roar. The shield glitched and then disappeared as the machine powered down. EMP roar? Good. Roman pounced on the professor before he had a chance to react and let out a roar right in his face. “Make Sophie release him!” he demanded again. “Sh-she still has to learn from him…” “He could die!” Roman insisted. The professor frowned. “S-Sophie. Vitals?” he asked. “The subjects adrenaline is elevating and his oxygen levels are lowering at an abnormal rate,” Sophie stated. The professor’s eyes widened with some kind of realization. “Sophie, failsafe protocol!” he instructed hurriedly. “Of course John,” Sophie agreed. Behind him, Roman heard something mechanical he couldn’t quite place. He looked back. The tank was draining. He rushed backwards, only vaguely noticing that he was back to human form, his clothes back in pristine condition which was a plus.

More importantly though, he forced the coffin open and tore off the sensors and tubes before reaching to help Virgil up. “It’s going to be okay V, I got you,” he announced in a hurry. “No! Let me go…!” Virgil protested as he kept trashing about, his eyes unfocussed. Roman wasn’t sure how much Virgil was registering of what he saw, but even if he wasn’t having trouble seeing his surroundings due to the panic attack he might not recognize him right now. He tried to calm down a little. “It’s okay Virgil, deep breaths, you’ll be okay,” he soothed gently, checking Virgil over for any injuries. Virgil was still trying to crawl away from him and breathing erratically. “No one is going to hurt you. I promise. In for four, remember?” Roman offered. Virgil blinked a few times, trying to get a hold of his surroundings probably, and nodded briskly. Starting to breathe as Roman counted out loud for him. When Virgil’s breath evened out a bit his eyes drifted to Roman, noting his mask and uniform. “My prince,” he breathed in relief before bursting into tears and reaching for him. Roman picked him up, lifted him out of the glass prison he’d been in and held him close after putting him down. He softly hummed remember me, knowing Virgil liked hearing him sing. Very slowly, Virgil seemed to calm down. His sobs quieting as he relaxed fully in Roman’s hold. In fact, Roman needed to support his weight a lot more now.

“You’re hot,” Virgil muttered suddenly. “Hm?” Roman asked a bit confused. It was not that out of character for Virgil to comment on his looks but right now seemed a bit weird even for him. “You’re on fire,” Virgil giggled. “Virgil? Are you well?” Roman asked a bit scared. “You- you are though. It’s all woosh!” his roommate no longer in distress giggled as he reached for his hair. Roman took hold of his hand and brought it down. Now that Virgil mentioned it his hair was indeed still a flame. But that didn’t matter right now. “Are you on drugs?” he wondered before looking up to the professor who was still sitting on the ground looking defeated. “Is he on drugs?!” he demanded. “I needed his mind to be serene. It’s the only way his vision is clear enough, for Sophie to learn how it works, so she can see the dangers coming too,” he muttered miserably. “I didn’t mean… I just wanted her to matter.” He looked close to some kind of breakdown. “DCPD! Coming through!” The voice of Virgil’s father called out. Roman looked up and saw the chief enter along a whole team with EMTs hanging in the back to assist. “He’s unarmed! This one is going to need a doctor soon. He’s been given some kind of drug cocktail,” he explained. Chief Grimm ran over, going from chief to dad in an instant. “Virgil, I’m here bud. Can you hear me?” he asked gently. Virgil looked up to his father with a weird smile on his face. “I found him daddy, I found the prince. I told you,” he announced. Chief Grimm eschanged a worried look with Roman. “I see. Good job,” he offered gently as the EMTs arrived. Roman and chief Grimm helped get Virgil on the stretcher. It was over… But it was also only just starting.

@kittylikesflowers @just-my-interpretation @naturallyunstablegamer @meowthefluffy @moonlightshow00 @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse @roseianxiety @bard-in-blue

Raven poetry

Chapter 18: Desperation

First chapter | Previous

#raven poetry au #prinxiety #tw drugs #tw entrapment #tw claustrofobia #just very angsty in general #have an emotional support plushie on hand

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multiples-fandomswontkillme · 3 years ago

Text

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

#metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family #victoria metal family #chess metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #metal family glam #metal family victoria #metal family dee #metalfamily #metal family heavy

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