#let me speak my truth i will take no criticism

[fishfission-dc]

if you’ve read it you know i’m right

[reiding-writing]

since you are a person of angst, i was thinking about spencer x reader where in the heat of an argument, spencer says he will only forgive her when she dies.

so in one of the cases the reader is shot by spencer and sighs "now you can finally forgive me"

happy or sad ending, whatever you want

muah 💘

forgiven — s.reid

Summary:

You lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR IAN DOYLE ARC, harsh arguments, death wishes, gun mentions, major character injury, details of gun related injury, happy ending

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 3.7k || masterlist!!

a/n: left the ending up to majority vote and majority vote said happy ending, you guys are so boring /j

happy ending or not this is still nice and jam packed with angst for all my angst enjoyers <3

Emily Prentiss had been buried for seven months.

So how on earth was she stood five feet away from Spencer with a half guilty expression on her face like she’d put salt in his coffee rather than the fact that she’d been in Paris, fully alive and well whilst he mourned her ‘death’ for months.

But he couldn’t be mad at her. Of course he couldn’t.

Instead his gaze turned towards the way Hotch, JJ, and you were stood at the head of the table, completely unfazed whilst the rest of the team stood in shock at the fact that the friend that they’d buried was still alive.

He couldn’t help that small feeling of loathing mixing with the shock when Emily pulled him into a hug, his arms loosely rested around her back as his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction.

He’d let you see him at his absolute worst, an emotional, crying, pathetic mess of a person who was desperately mourning over the loss of one of his closest friends.

And you’d let him. Whilst knowing that Emily was still alive.

His emotional state had gotten so bad over the last few months that you’d even temporarily moved him in with you to make sure he wasn’t endangering himself.

He’d spiralled into a state where he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own. And you’d let him.

He didn’t speak to you during your drive home that night, and you knew why.

You knew he was going to be angry at you, and you couldn’t blame him for it.

What you didn’t expect, was for him to immediately start unrooting himself from your apartment; Clearing out drawers and stuffing his clothes in the suitcase hidden in one of the cupboards.

“Spencer what are you doing-” You barely manage to step out of the way before Spencer walked right into you with an armful of books in his hands as he pulled them from the bookshelf in your living room.

He stacks them neatly in the corner of the open case laid on top of his bed as you stand in the doorway of your guest room turned Spencer’s bedroom, clear concern written all over your face.

“I’m going home.” Spencer’s reply is blunt, flat, with the tiniest amount of hurt lacing his tone if you were to listen closely enough.

“Spence-” You block his exit from the room with your body as he attempts to make a second trip to clear your shelves of his books. “Can we just take a second to talk about this?”

“About what? The fact that you lied to me for seven months?” He takes a step back from you as you block the doorway, looking you directly in the eyes to make sure that you could read every semblance of hurt, loathing, and betrayal that swam in his irises.

“The fact that I trusted you to the point where I let you see me at my lowest and you knew everything I was grieving over was a lie?” Spencer had given up trying to leave the room, clearing out anything left in the bedroom instead and zipping the suitcase shut.

“The fact that you let me spiral to the point where I was considering relapsing and couldn’t be trusted to live on my own?”

“Spencer-”

“I confided in you. I told you everything. All those nights I spent sobbing in your arms talking about how I just wanted the pain to stop and you left me in the dark.” He was borderline shouting at you by now, his eyes glassed over with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks and a lump in his throat that rended his composure shattered.

“I wish I could’ve told you Spencer but I couldn’t-”

“You couldn’t?” Spencer cuts you off before you have the time to try and explain yourself. “Or you wouldn’t?”

“I couldn’t- Spence I wanted to tell you I really did but Emily’s life was in danger-” You try to explain yourself whilst he’s giving you the time to do so, words falling out of your mouth as fast as your brain will let them form. “I couldn’t say anything without risking breaking her cover and sending her right back into Doyle’s grasp..”

“What about my life?” Spencer’s voice cracked slightly as he looked at you, a light flush covering his face from his frustration. “I spent ten weeks under 24/7 supervision because my mental state was so bad-”

“You know me. You know I wouldn’t have said anything. And you let me ruin my own mental state anyway.” The end of his negation of your explanation is marked by the suitcases wheels hitting the wooden flooring.

“Look i’m sorry okay? I didn’t-”

“What? didn’t mean to let it go so far? Didn’t mean to let me consider relapsing and washing any progress i’d made over the last four years down the drain?” He pushes past you with considerable force to make his way towards the front door of your apartment with his suitcase in hand. “Well it’s too late for that isn’t it?”

“Spencer wait-” You grasp at his wrist in a moment of desperation, silently begging for him not to leave. “I’m sorry,”

“I’m so, so sorry and you have every right to be angry at me and I know that keeping it from you was wrong-” Your desperation shows through your voice, through the stray tear that rolls down your left cheek and pools under your chin. “Just- let’s talk about this, please,”

“We just did.” Spencer’s voice is much harsher than you’re used to, although he removes your hand from his wrist with a whisper of his usual gentle nature that you wish would take over the rest of his personality as he pulls your door open to leave.

“I was just trying to protect her-” Your voice hitches at the end of your sentence, stray tears turning into a steady flow that dapples your white shirt in damp circles. “..please forgive me…”

Your voice is hardly a whisper by the time you’re finished, although Spencer’s expression does not match the softness in your tone.

Nor does his response.

“I’ll forgive you when you’re six feet under like she was.”

“Spencer-”

You barely have time to be shocked by his words before the front door of your apartment is closed harshly in your face, Spencer’s presence replaced by the ghost of his cologne and a sharp coldness that runs its way up your spine.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It’d been three weeks.

And aside from asking Morgan to keep an eye on him you hadn’t so much as mentioned Spencer once.

It was a little difficult considering his desk was directly opposite yours, but a mix of wanting to respect his personal space and still being hurt by his comment allows you to keep to yourself no matter how close he was.

You’re thankful that the team hasn’t said anything, but you’re sure they’ll only respect your privacy until it interferes with the case you’re working on.

Emily had tried to talk Spencer down from his underlying anger to no avail during the plane ride, and despite the countless times that Hotch had taken full responsibility for keeping Emily’s living status a secret, it didn’t stop Spencer from sending you half-glares across the station or refuting any suggestion you gave with an overcomplicated explanation of why you were wrong.

By the fourth day you were on the verge of snapping at him, the Texas heat melding with his snark and making you want to tear all of your skin from your face.

You definitely weren’t in the right mental state to enter an active shooter situation, but as you followed Morgan into the building with your 9mm planted firmly between your hands, all you could think about is the conversation you were going to force Spencer into having with you once all of this was over.

You were so tired of being in this stalemate with him, you just wanted your Spencer back.

The one who would trap you on your couch so he could explain the Doctor Who lore in explicit detail with that bright starry look in his eyes the longer you let him ramble.

It was just radio silence. And you couldn’t bare it anymore.

Your mind was clouded by your own thoughts as you swept the building, and you suppose you only have yourself to blame for not hearing the unfamiliar footsteps behind you until it’s too late.

You turn on your heels towards the noise, expecting it to be Morgan or even Spencer, finished with sweeping the floor and ready to move on.

Instead you’re met by a sharp bang that rings through your ears and a pain in your throat that makes your breath catch and your legs fail underneath you.

Your left hand comes straight to your throat, immediately coated in the dark red liquid escaping from the new hole created in your body, and you manage to fire a shot in the direction of your assailant as he runs, although whether you actually hit him or not you’re not sure.

It takes less than ten seconds for your team members to arrive at your side, and you desperately point in the direction that the UnSub had ran off in as you try and refrain from coughing up blood and in turn flooding your lungs.

Morgan and Emily share a look before running off in your pointed direction. Spencer however, ignores your arm completely and rushes to kneel at your side, dropping his gun on the floor in the process and frantically holding the radio button on his watch to yell out his need for medical services.

“You’re going to be fine- Everything’s going to be fine-” You can practically feel the panic emanating from his body, his hands trembling as he tugged his bullet proof vest from his chest to tear at the hem of his shirt and use it to block the bullet hole in your throat as your hand compression weakened with your blood loss.

You can tell he was trying to reassure you, but it didn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself.

His right hand added a copious amount of pressure to the front of your throat as he aided you into the recovery position, checking the nape of your neck for an exit wound. Nothing.

A soft “two minutes” echoes back through the radio speaker in his watch and though he tries to mutter it under his breath to not freak you out any further, you can hear his uncertain “that’s too long,” even through the tinnitus plaguing your ears.

You cough up the clotted chunks of oxidised blood stuck in your oesophagus onto the floor beneath you, and Spencer makes an effort to protect your head from the floor by elevating it on his thigh.

“You’re going to be fine-” Spencer sounds more panicked than you as his eyes blink with tears, unable to be wiped as they fall down his cheeks from the red staining against his fingers and the ever present pressure he’s adding to your injury.

“Does this mean you’re going to forgive me now?” You choke out the words alongside what could barely be considered a laugh as it leaves you hacking up more blood through your mouth, your attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears as it sends Spencer into a fit of tears.

“I’m so sorry-” Spencer’s tears run hot against his cheeks, pooling at his chin and falling onto the ripped fabric of his shirt he was using to try and stop your throat from bleeding. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you and barging out and just being awful to you I’m sorry-”

The distinct sounds of sirens sound over Spencer’s profuse apology and you can see the relief flood his face as he hears them. “You hear that? You’re gonna be okay, they’re gonna get you to a hospital and you’re gonna be fine,”

He nodded determinedly at you, more like he’s trying to convince himself than convince you.

He neglected to tell you about the fact that gunshot wounds to the neck held a 78% mortality rate, or how when they obstruct major airways that number jumps to 92%.

It was fine. You would be fine.

He can hear the pounding footsteps of the medical team as they breach the building, yelling out in their direction with as much composure as he can muster.

He helped the medical team carefully position you on a stretcher so they could rush you into the ambulance, and he runs alongside you, giving the EMTs as much information as he can.

“They were shot by a 7.5mm two minutes and forty seconds ago, it breached their trachea but there’s no exit wound so it’s likely lodged in the back of their oesophagus-” Spencer speaks through heaved breaths as his body fights to take in oxygen over his will to help the EMTs treat you as quickly as possible, following them into the back of the ambulance.

“They’ve been conscious the whole time this far but I think they’re going through pulmonary edema and-”

“Spence-” Your voice is barely audible through your struggle to breathe, joined by the pressure on your throat as well as under your diaphragm as one of the EMTs checks for signs of your lungs being flooded. “Don’t backseat doctor-”

The fact that you’re still conscious enough to lightly chastise him makes Spencer feel a little less panicked, although removing a pebble from a mountain doesn’t affect its height.

By the time you reach the hospital, you’re unconscious but not yet critical, and he almost follows you right into the OR until he’s blocked from the door by one of the nurses and escorted into the waiting area.

“Well let you know the second anything changes Dr Reid,”

He nods hastily as he sits down, fiddling with his fingers and tapping his feet against the linoleum floors.

You weren’t critical yet, but that didn’t mean that you’d pull through. You had flooded lungs and a bullet lodged somewhere in the back of your throat that they were going to surgically remove.

If something went wrong, that was it.

Spencer spends the first thirty minutes mentally beating himself up.

Why did he lash out at you? You were only doing what you thought was best to protect Emily.

Why did he say he’d only forgive you if you died? You didn’t mean to cause him any harm.

Why was he constantly managing to ruin anything positive that was happening between the two of you?

Maybe he was cursed.

Cursed to live a life of eternal suffering as the perpetual cost for the gift of his intelligence.

He would give up every IQ point he had if it meant that you would recover with no complications.

He would sacrifice his eidetic memory in an instant if it meant he got to make new ones with you.

He’d give up everything that he was prided on as long as you were okay. You needed to be okay.

The next forty-five minutes was spent in an anxious silence. The team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they’d secured the UnSub’s incarceration, only amplifying the tension in the waiting area.

As the nurse calls out your name to the room, the team immediately stands to rush over, everyone silently praying that you’re okay.

“We’re glad to say that the surgery was a success,”

Those words are enough for the anxiety to dwindle in the group, a wave of relief overtaking it.

“They’ve had to have a temporary tracheotomy, and due to the placement of the bullet lodged between their vertebrae, a spinal excision, but both procedures progressed with no issues, meaning they should recover perfectly fine,”

Morgan and Emily share a audible sigh of relief, overshadowed by Spencer’s voice, less anxious but still filled with adrenaline. “Can I see them?”

“They’re currently under supervised care to make sure they don’t destabilise, but if you leave your mobile number we will contact you when they wake,” The nurse passes Spencer a small post it note and a biro pen from her clip board and he doesn’t hesitate to scribble his name and number down before handing them back.

“They’re strong, most patients don’t remain conscious for more than a minute or two after an injury like that,” The nurse takes the pen and post it from Spencer with a small smile. “I have full faith that they’ll recover perfectly fine,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer extends his stay in Texas indefinitely.

The rest of the team had left for Quantico two days ago to file out all of the necessary paperwork for the case, with Spencer opting to remain in Texas until you were fit to fly home with him.

Home. He wonders if you’ll let him come home with you. To stay with you in your apartment again and live side by side with him once more.

Maybe he can convince you through your recovery; That patients recovering with spinal injuries need 24/7 attention just in case something happens.

Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.

Spencer’s plans for taking you home were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.

His heart rate increases as he picks the phone up from his hotel room’s coffee table, his hands trembling by the time he holds it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“McAllen County Hospital, am I speaking to Doctor Spencer Reid?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer is in his rental car almost before he hangs up the phone, driving the speed limit as he tries to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

He runs what he’s going to say when he sees you over and over again in his head on the way there, but by the time he reaches your hospital room his mind goes completely blank, and he just stands in the door staring at you.

“Hello to you too,” Your voice is very clearly strained and raspy, still recovering from the emergency tracheotomy you’d been given during surgery.

The sound of your voice, as dry and strained as it is, immediately sends Spencer into a fit of tears, and he rushes to take a seat on the plastic chair beside your bed with the most upset, regretful expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry,”

“Spence…” You reach out your hand out from the hospital bed, laying it against his lower thigh and squeezing it lightly.

“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you I know you were doing what’s right and I didn’t mean what I said I don’t want you to die I promise-” He takes in a sharp breath through his nose once he’s finished his ramble, and you wait a few seconds to make sure he’s actually finished before speaking yourself.

“You’re fine Spence…” Your hand trails up to grasp at his own, intertwining your fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze. “You had every right to be angry,”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly at you. “No, i’m sorry. What I said was wrong and you didn’t deserve that,”

Spencer exhales softly through his nose, his voice wavering and his hands trembling against your own. “Can you forgive me..?”

You question whether to make a joke about whether he’s close to dying or not, but opt out of it considering his fragile emotional state.

“How about we both forgive each other and call it even?” You let out a small chuckle at the end of your question, turning into more of a cough as it dries out your throat, and Spencer grabs the glass of water left on your bedside table with his free hand.

He holds it up to let you drink from it rather than unlinking your hands to let you hold the cup yourself, placing the styrofoam back down once you’re finished.

You give him a mildly embarrassed smile that he returns with one of his own, leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against yours.

If you weren’t recovering from a spinal surgery he would’ve had you in a bone crushing hug by now, but holding your hand and leaning his forehead to yours would suffice for now.

“Forgiven?” You allow your eyes to flutter closed at the soft contact, exhaling slowly through your nose.

“Forgiven…”

[lilithandherharlots]

Too shy to tell you

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.

Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]

Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!

:::

"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.

"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.

"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."

"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.

He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.

"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.

"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."

He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.

:::

It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.

"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.

"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.

"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.

He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.

"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.

"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.

"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.

"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."

You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.

"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.

You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.

"Please don't take that away from me."

His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...

"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."

As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.

"F-fine... I promise."

"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.

"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"

The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.

This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.

He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.

"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.

"I'll buy you the cutest flats."

:::

A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.

The end

[oleander-nin]

Hi can I please request yandere Rise Leo playing truth or dare with his darling ( if possible could reader be female if not that’s fine , I’m fine with g/n) (romantic please )

But more there play , more tense it gets Leo starts acting weird asking odd truth questions it was when the reader decided to go home in the rain , Leo suggested reader stay for the night , which the reader refuses at first , till Leo gaslight them, reader then agreed to stay

It was only when Leo fallen asleep , reader tries to sleep but felt on unease so reader tries to sneak out only for Leo to teleport them back , reader lies saying their gotta get home parents/guardian is worried , only for Leo to call out on their bluff

verbal prompt ; 1 Well that wasn’t very smart

.and 19

If you're going to lie to me, at least have the decency to look me in the eyes while you do it."

love to see what you come up with and if you wanna go for a really dark plot you can do 💗

🀄️anon

Please Just Stay

A/N, not important: Apologies, this is probably not what you had in mind, but I tried to follow your plot to the best of my ability while still giving myself room to breathe. Beta read by @astral--horrorshow. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Manipulation, Peer Pressure, kidnapping, yandere themes

Words: 3495

Summary: You've been planning this sleepover for forever, but now that's it's finally happening, you're not so sure you want to stay.

You could barely hear the rain from where you were in Leo’s room, the faint pitter patter against the pavement above you more of an itch in the back of your skull than something tangible. You keep your attention split between the movie playing and Leo’s face, continuously shoveling popcorn into your face while you wait for him to hurry up. The two of you had been cycling through different ways to pass the time for the past few hours; board games, video games, and most cheesy sleepover games had all been tried at some point in the night. You were currently on the classic game of Truth or Dare, mostly because it wasn’t too hard to play while staying inside Leo’s room.

“Truth or dare?” He finally asks, his chin resting on his knee and his other leg draped over the edge of the bed. The way his back and shell moved bemused you, the hard shell and plastron seeming more flexible than you had first thought upon meeting them.

“Dare,” Your muffled voice tries to answer through your full mouth, holding the back of your hand in front of your lips to keep the food contained inside. You take a few precious seconds more to swallow, hitting your chest twice to make sure it goes down. Leo watches you, his expression stuck between concern and amusement. You look up, a toothy grin flashing at your friend as you speak up again with a more clear, unblocked voice. “Dare. Give me your worst.”

“My worst?” Leo asks, raising his frontalis muscle in jest. You nod, still grinning eagerly at him. Leo sits up, cracking his knuckles in front of his chest with a mischievous glint in his eyes. A brief rush of nervousness and anticipation brushes through you, trying to not dread your decision. Leo finally meets your eyes again, looking pleased with himself. “Give me your phone.”

You snort slightly, although you don’t comply right away with his request. A part of you didn’t trust what he had planned, but you didn’t want to let your apprehension show. “Really? That’s your dare?”

“It is,” Leo insists, holding out his hand expectantly. “I won’t do anything with it, I swear.”

“Your dare is to give you my phone.” You repeat, blanking at him to hide your hesitation.

Leo lets out a small huff, his grin a bit more strained. His hand curls in twice, trying to coax you into handing him the device. Just that motion alone tempted you to tell him to pick something else. “Oh come on, you’re acting like you don’t trust me.”

You purse your lips, reluctantly handing over the small device. You didn’t like not having it near, especially when you were somewhere away. You trusted Leo and the others with your life, of course, but somehow losing your only means of contact made you feel… Vulnerable. Leo takes the phone easily, glancing at the lock screen as it flashes on when he takes it. It was April, Leo and his brothers, and you all together at the latest con, a picture Leo insisted everyone make their lock screen after taking it. You half expect him to go back on his word, to open your phone and start looking through it, but he doesn’t even touch the screen. Leo merely sets the phone on his dresser face down before turning back to you. You chew on your bottom lip, your fingers toying with the ends of your shorts slightly. Leo rolls his eyes again, looking at you impassively.

“Your turn,” He prompts, flashing you another grin. It’s your turn to roll your eyes, unimpressed with his easygoing behavior.

“Truth or dare?” You ask, your voice picking up a more bored and aloof tone. Your change didn’t seem to bother him as he pretended to think hard about the question, his face scrunching up in thought. The odd expressions he was going through were enough to make you start to laugh, causing him to laugh with you.

“Dare,” He parrots, looking smug as he tries to mimic your voice and tone. “Give me your worst.”

You shake your head as he copies your words, kicking his leg slightly in retaliation. Leo, ever the dramatic, holds his leg tightly and scrunches his face up tight like he was in pain. You snort at the mutant’s theatrics, smiling brightly as you look him over. “Mikey made cupcakes tonight, right?”

Leo pauses his wounded display, straightening up slightly as he looks at you curiously. “Yeah, why?”

“Dare you to go get me some,” You say brightly, flashing him a large smile as you nudge his leg again. Leo huffs, unimpressed with your request. He slumps over slightly, resting his hands in his lap.

“That’s a lame dare,” He claims, picking at a loose string on his pajama pants. You shrug, unbothered by his words.

“So was yours.”

Leo seems to concede at this, standing up with a loud sigh. You suppress a laugh as you watch him leave to room to acquire your cupcakes, returning shortly and handing you one of the brightly frosted confections. You eye the identical one in his one hand as he practically shoves the entire cupcake into his face, feigning disgust at the mess of frosting now stuck to his face. Turning back to your own cupcake, you unwrap the cupcake holder from the sweet treat and start prying the bottom half off. You set it atop the frosting and squish it down, treating it like a sandwich.

“So,” Leo starts, wiping frosting from his face with the back of his hand while you continue to nibble at yours. “Truth or dare?”

You swallow the bite of cake and frosting in your mouth as you think it over, weighing the pros and cons. “Truth.”

“Coward,” He teases, with no bite to his words. “Who’s the last person you texted?”

You hum in thought, shoving the last of your cupcake and starting to chew. “Probably either you or a friend from school. Can’t remember, since someone took my phone.”

Leo snorts, shoving your shoulder lightly. “You kept checking it! This is the first sleepover we’ve had in weeks, is it so wrong I want your attention on me instead of whatever you were doing?”

“I was checking my email! You know I’ve been applying to scholarships and colleges!”

“Can that not wait until later?” Leo points out, annoyance flashing over his face. You frown, carefully folding the cupcake wrapper into squares as you try to think of how to answer. Technically he was right. You really could wait until tomorrow, especially since you’d be leaving by the end of the year for college anyways. You should be making the most of your time with him.

“Fine,” You mumble. “Please accept my humble apology.”

Leo nods, leaning back so his shell was against the ‘headboard’ of his bed, which in actuality was just the railing for the old train seating. “Truth or dare?” You ask, crumpling up the small square you made of the cupcake wrapper before trying to throw it across the room into his small trash can. You fail miserably, watching painfully as it soars about a foot past your target.

“Dare,” Leo answers, clearly trying not to laugh at you for your failure of a throw. You lightly kick him in retaliation, huffing softly.

“Dare you to go properly throw it away for me.”

“Are you just going to use this game to use me as a servant?” He complains loudly, getting up to do your bidding either way.

“Truth or dare?” He asks again as he throws away the wrapper. Properly, this time.

“Truth.”

"You're no fun," He complains loudly as he plops back down on the bed, pushing his feet into your lap just to be annoying. You roll your eyes, shoving his feet back onto the bed. "Why do you want to go off to college so bad?"

You blank slightly at the question, confused. Why wouldn't you want to go off to college? Especially since the career you were vying for required a bachelors at the least. And, whether it was unlucky or lucky, you being a first generation college applicant as well as your family making well below the national average opened you up to a lot of government grants. It was far from anything considered affordable, but you were confident you'd be able to pay off any loans you needed to take out by your thirties. Your parents had done everything in their power to help you get this far, and you'd be dead before you squandered it.

"Just, what I want to do." You say simply, shrugging. That was really all there was to it in the end after all. It was what you wanted in life, how you wanted your story to go. Get a job, pay back your parents, help them retire. It felt right.

"But you'd most likely be leaving," Leo argues, annoyed. You falter at that, feeling slightly bad. He did have a point after all. While you of course applied to every local university, the one you had your heart set on was a couple states away. Which meant leaving the turtles, and your family, behind.

"We don't know that yet," You point out, rubbing your wrists. You hated when Leo brought this up.

Leo just frowns, clearly not agreeing with your answer. He crosses his arms, tapping his fingers above his elbows. "We both know you're not planning on staying."

"Can we *not* talk about this right now? Please?" You practically beg, feeling incredibly uncomfortable as he starts to get more accusatory.

"No, I want to know why you want to leave so badly." Leo demands, frowning. You panic slightly, hating this conversation and not knowing what to say. Of course you weren't trying to abandon them, or to run away. You'd be back in four years. You just needed this opportunity to advance your life, and you didn't know how to explain that to him.

“I think my guardians called me,” You blurt out before you can really think about what you just said, having mostly wanted to just end the conversation. You wanted to go home, your heart pounding and palms sweaty. You couldn't deal with him right now, his accusations and arguments making up upset. You school your face into a blank look, ignoring the surprised and slightly annoyed look Leo held. You knew you screwed up. Leo had your phone still and not a peep had come from it since he first put it there.

“Did they now,” He grumbles, rolling his eyes as he reaches for your phone that still sat on his bedside table. “I didn’t even hear it ring.”

You purse your lips as he lifts the phone and taps the screen, briefly glancing at the notifications popping up. Satisfied with his check, he puts the phone back down. “You know,” He starts with a frown, his eyes conveying a deep hurt that makes your stomach churn with guilt. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, to have to bail on the sleepover you’ve both had planned for weeks, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that was radiating through your body. “If you're going to lie to me, at least try to have the decency to make it believable. I don’t know why you’re trying to get out of this so bad, but it can’t be that bad being here with me. Right?"

Leo’s words make you falter slightly, the guilt starting to deafen the warning signs blaring in the back of your head. You couldn’t help but agree with him slightly, faltering in your own resolve to go home. Even you weren’t entirely sure why you wanted to leave so badly. Leo hadn’t technically done anything, after all. He was probably only worried about you, after all. College is a big deal, and you'd be all alone for so long. It was natural to be upset about this.

"I'm not trying to leave you guys," You say softly, rubbing at your wrists again. His upset stare was making you feel bad, guilt building in your chest. He doesn't respond yet, still staring blankly as he waits for you to continue. You take in a deep breath, frowning. "You know the college I want has the best program for what I want. I'm sorry it's so far, but it's not like I'll be gone forever. I'll be able to visit when school's out and in four years I'll have a steady job and my own apartment."

Leo just grumbles, looking away. "I still don't want you to leave."

You sit there awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to respond to that. You were done with this conversation, done with having to justify your dreams to him. He wasn't going to make you change your mind.

"Maybe we should head to bed," You mutter, starting to drop off the bed and onto your sleeping bag you had set on the floor. "It's getting late."

Leo opens his mouth to say something, but closes it soon after. He didn't look happy you were dropping the conversation, but he didn't argue. "Yeah, we should." He finally concedes, picking up his phone to plug it in before doing the same to yours.  You sigh in relief as he doesn’t push it farther, settling down into your makeshift bed to sleep. You still felt a bit uneasy, and a part of you really didn’t want to stay. You knew Leo had the tendency to blow things out of proportion, and he’d likely bring it up again tomorrow. Probably in front of everyone else too.

With that thought swirling around your head, you made the decision to leave. Not now, of course. It’d raise suspicion and hurt feelings. But once Leo was fast asleep, it would be easy enough to sneak out and send a quick lie of a text about a family emergency. Sure, he’d probably see through it, but it was easy enough to bring over a couple pizzas next time you see him as compensation.

It only took around an hour for Leo to finally fall into a deep enough sleep for you to justify getting up. You slip out of the sleeping bag as quietly as possible, carefully folding it up enough to shove back under his bed. You set the pillow down at his feet, navigating the dark room carefully to get to his dresser and retrieve your phone. Figuring leaving the rest of your stuff there would help sell your story, and since it wasn’t like you couldn’t get it later anyways, you decide to leave your bag of spare clothes in his room. Might as well add to the collection of belongings that live at their place.

You carefully step out, wincing as the door gets stuck on its sliding track. The last thing you wanted to do was wake him, especially since being caught now would just be embarrassing. You ease the door forwards, flinching slightly at its loud screech before it’s able to slide again. You look up towards Leo, your eyes carefully scanning his sleeping form to make sure he hadn’t woken. Satisfied, you close the door the rest of the way and make your way out.

It had been a while since you’d walked through the dark of the sewers, your meager phone light barely casting enough to see more than a foot in front of you. You grimace at the smell, your shirt pulled up over your nose as you try to ignore the growing dread in your bones. Despite how often you’ve traveled down these tunnels, you never could shake the eerie feeling they brought at night.

As you finally reach a ladder to the surface, you turn off your light and put your phone into your pocket. You weren’t sure how well you could leave, considering Leo and his brothers insisted on moving the covers for you whenever you came or went. You’d heard word of them being heavy, but figured they couldn’t be that bad.

Climbing blindly up the ladder, you keep one hand above you as a brace to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally smash your head against the iron cover. The rain steadily got louder as you climbed, causing you to groan inwardly. You were not looking forward to being soaked on the walk home, and you could already feel drops falling on your head as you climbed. As you reach the top, you carefully wrap an arm around the topmost rung to keep yourself from falling as you try to push the cover up and off. Surprised by the lack of give, you try again at a different angle, shifting your feet to give yourself as much leverage as possible.

As it continues to hold firm, you start to push desperately at the edges of the cover, leveraging against the solid iron with your shoulder. You could hear the rain louder now, small bouts of water dribbling down and running down your back and arms. It gathered in your hands, making your already sweaty palms even more slick against the rusted metal ladders. You try your best to keep your balance, not wanting to lose your grip and fall the approximately fifteen down. Your heart pounded in your ears, the uncomfortable feeling in your gut still as persistent as it was earlier in the night. You couldn’t help but feel watched, vulnerable even. You hated this, and the heavy manhole lid that refused to budge was not helping in the slightest. You just wanted to leave, to go home and lay in your own bed for the night. It would be embarrassing to go back now, even if you weren’t found out. Just knowing you couldn’t leave on your own was enough of a blow to your pride.

“You’re not going to be able to lift it,” A voice calls as the area around you starts to glow a soft blue, making you jump. You freeze where you are, recognizing the voice immediately and light source immediately. You sigh, turning slightly to look at Leo with a sheepish look on your face. Leo’s face was clearly unhappy, his eyes crinkled into a deep frown.

“You’re awake,” You say simply, unsure how to break the tension between you both. Leo stays quiet for a moment, his dark eyes taking in the situation. He holds out his hand, balancing his other on the rim of his portal.

“C’mon. I’ll take you home.” He says softly, waiting for you to take his outstretched palm. You sigh, taking his hand and letting him pull you forwards into the portal. You were a bit surprised as you arrived in his room instead of your own, watching the portal close behind you as he moved back onto his bed. You look down in surprise when you see he set your sleeping back and pillow back up, frowning slightly as the surprise morphs into confusion.

“Uh, Leo?” You ask weakly, trying to gain his attention. He looks up at you, tilting his head slightly like there was nothing wrong. “I thought you were going to take me home.”

“I did,” He answers easily, his voice sweet like he was talking to a lost child. You frown, not appreciating his tone nor the joke he seemed to be playing.

“Hah hah, very funny. I meant my home, Leo.”

Leo sighs, frustration seeping back into him. “I did. You’re staying here.”

This declaration does not make you feel any better than you did a moment ago, your confusion growing even more. “Leo, what are you talking about?”

“I’m done with you trying to leave me,” Leo says, glaring at you. “Get in bed. You’re staying here.”

You balk at him, taking a step back towards the door. Leo sits up at this, his body tensed like he was ready to reach forwards and grab you a second's notice. You flub your words, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Leo, this isn’t funny.”

“Neither is you being so insistent on abandoning me, but you seem fine doing that,” He says bitterly, gritting his teeth. “Lay down. We’ll talk in the morning.”

You shake your head, turning for the door before you feel Leo’s arm's reach out and wrap around your waist, yanking you back. The sudden momentum causes you to wheeze, your stomach aching at the harsh pull. You fall backwards against Leo’s chest, causing you to start to struggle against him in an attempt to get away. He doesn’t budge, his grip tightening to a painful degree as you cry out.

“I’m not losing you.” He hisses, holding you down. His words haunt you, causing your flailing to increase and his own grip to shift so you could barely move without hurting yourself in the process. “Not now, not ever.”

Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay @lexiechr @ssak-i @rottmntsimp

[rieamena]

ten: engine ᯓ★

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the message is vague enough to keep him in the dark, but you know it’ll get him to come. it’s not like you ask him for serious talks often; most of your time together is filled with playful teasing and lighthearted moments. but tonight, you need answers

you arrive at the park first. it’s quiet and dark, with only the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life in the background. the swings creak lightly in the cold breeze, and as you sit down on one, you can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation tighten in your chest

you’ve known for a while that something has been off with takuma, but he’s been good at hiding it. or at least, he thought he was. you've caught the small signs—the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, the way he avoids eye contact during conversations that cut a little too deep

it’s unlike him, the takuma who’s always brimming with energy and confidence. and that’s why you asked him to meet here, in a place where you both feel at ease. it’s a space where neither of you have to wear masks

when takuma finally arrives, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets and his usual laid-back grin on his face, you feel a flicker of doubt. should you really bring this up? what if he shuts you out?

but then, his grin falters as he approaches you, noticing the serious look on your face

"hey, you okay?" he asks, leaning against the swing set’s frame, brown hair peeking out of his black beanie. "you sounded kind of… intense in your message."

you take a deep breath, watching the way he fidgets slightly, and gesture for him to sit on the swing beside yours. the soft creak of metal accompanies his movements as he settles next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours

"i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while," you start, your voice calm but tinged with the weight of the conversation ahead. "i feel like something’s been bothering you… and i just want to know what’s going on."

takuma shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from yours as he tries to laugh it off. "what? nah, i’m fine. i’m the same old takuma you've always—"

"don’t," you interrupt gently, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "don’t pretend like everything’s okay. i can tell something’s been off since the beginning. your interactions with toji, your insecurity before the race…"

the words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. he glances at you, his easygoing façade cracking slightly, revealing the turmoil underneath. his jaw tightens, and you can see the battle in his mind—whether to keep pretending or let the truth spill out

after a long, tense pause, he sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping forward. he rubs a hand over his face, looking more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him

"it’s not that i didn’t want to tell you," he begins, his voice quieter now. "i just… i didn’t know how to say it. and part of me didn’t want to burden you with it."

"burden me with what?" you ask, heart racing

takuma looks down at his feet, the swing swaying slightly under his weight as he takes another deep breath. "it’s toji. training with him, getting into motogp, it’s… it’s been harder than i thought it would be. at first, i was all in, you know? i wanted to prove i could do it. prove i could live up to his expectations."

you sit quietly, letting him speak at his own pace. his usual relaxed demeanor has melted away, leaving behind someone who’s been carrying a heavy weight in silence

"i mean he's the one who recruited me. he saw something in me. but… it’s never enough," he says, his voice tinged with frustration and self-doubt. "no matter how hard i push, no matter how much i improve, it’s like… like i’m always falling short. toji sets these insane standards—perfect turns, perfect laps, perfect everything. i thought i could handle it, but it’s been messing with my head."

his hand tightens around the chain of the swing, knuckles turning white. "every mistake, every criticism… it’s just piling up. and now, i can’t even look at myself without feeling like i’m failing. like i’m not good enough."

you stare at him, your chest tightening at the rawness of his confession. you never imagined that beneath his confident exterior, takuma was battling this deep sense of inadequacy

"takuma…" you murmur, reaching out to place your hand over his. he flinches slightly at the contact but doesn’t pull away

"i thought i could handle it," he continues, voice shaky now. "i really did. but the truth is, all that negativity… it’s been dragging me down. i didn’t want you to see me like this—weak, second-guessing everything. i didn’t want you to think i was…" he trails off, unable to finish the sentence, as if saying the words aloud would make them real.

you squeeze his hand gently, trying to convey in that single touch how much you care, how much he means to you. "you’re not weak, takuma. not to me. you’re strong, and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are. it’s okay to feel this way—it doesn’t make you any less of who you are."

you shift your body, turning to him fully. "plus, you're the best racer i know. seriously."

he looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, you see the vulnerability in his eyes that he’s been hiding. the air between you shifts, charged with a sudden intensity that neither of you can ignore. the way his gaze softens, the way his breath hitches slightly—there’s something there, simmering just beneath the surface

"i don’t know what i’d do without you," he whispers, his words barely audible, as if he’s scared to admit just how much he’s relied on you. "i don't know how i lived before a month ago."

the closeness between you feels electrifying, like the air itself is alive with unspoken emotions. you hear your swing creak softly as it drifts back and forth, watching his do the same as well

"takuma…" you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. the tension is thick, undeniable, and you know exactly where it’s heading. you’ve felt this pull before, but never like this—never so overwhelming, so inevitable

"i… i have something else to say. since we're sharing secrets and all… even though im two for two and you're just listening but…" takuma asks, clearing his throat soon after. "can you come over here?"

the creak of the metal was heard as you stood up from the rubber seating. ino wasn't even a full two feet away from you and you could hear each other perfectly from where you were sitting but you still walked over and positioned yourself right in front of him. you hear him mutter something along the lines of ‘it's okay. i got this’, before actually starting to speak to you again

"uh… i um… i– no. i-i—," he pauses and stares at you for a bit, getting just a little lost in your eyes, before resting his head on your stomach, "i can't do it…"

a soft laugh escapes your lips. "mmm, tell me when you're ready." you slipped his beanie off and ran your hands through his hair. it would be a lie if you said that you've never thought about doing this before. takuma's hair was just so shiny and silky looking and the way the strands framed his face, it was all so—

ino pulled away from his comfortable spot on your body, looking up at you with his big brown round eyes. breath hitched in your throat as you snapped your head to look elsewhere, feeling that if you stared at him for a second longer, you wouldn't be able to look away. instinctively, you removed your hand from his locks, already missing the feeling

"sorry, do you—"

you weren't even able to finish before he responded, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. takuma laced your hand with his and placed it right back atop his head, settling right back on your plush stomach

"nah, you can do whatever you want t'me."

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@baekhyunsbestie

[stupidphototricks]

It's interesting re-reading Sir Terry Pratchett's books in a random order, because there are connections that I wouldn't have noticed otherwise. I read Johnny and the Dead immediately after The Wee Free Men, and these two passages struck me in a similar way:

And what there was about the Queen's voice was this: It said, in a friendly, understanding way, that she was right and you were wrong. And this wasn't your fault, exactly. It was probably the fault of your parents, or your food, or something so terrible that you've completely forgotten about it. It wasn't your fault, the Queen understood, because you were a nice person. It was just such a terrible thing that all these bad influences had made you make the wrong choices. -- Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men

The words would fill up the hall until they were higher than people's heads. They were smooth, soothing words. Soon they'd close over the top of all the trilbies and woolly hats, and everyone would be sitting there like sea anemones. They'd come here with things to say, even if they didn't know how to say them. The thing was to keep your head down. But if you did keep your head down, you'd drown in other people's words. -- Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Dead

Both of them describe dealing with an adversary who is smooth-talking, articulate, eloquent; someone who is apt to win the argument by saying things perfectly and making you look stupid and silly and wrong, no matter how right you actually are. Someone who can even make you question whether you are right.

I feel this in my bones because in pretty much any situation, no matter how much I believe in my own opinion I can never coherently explain it to anyone else, if they don't already agree with me. I stammer, and get confused, and can't find the right word, and lose the thread, and give up. It doesn't matter, I think.

Of course the stakes are a lot higher for Tiffany and Johnny in these books. And of course (spoiler, but not really) they find the strength, and the words, to not be overridden and out-talked and silenced and gaslighted (gaslit?), but to push back and say what they need to say.

I wonder if Terry Pratchett drew on his own experience with having a speech impediment, here. I imagine that there were a lot of occasions in his early life where people talked over him, didn't take him seriously, didn't let him finish what he was saying. And, well. We all know that as it turned out he was extremely worth listening to.

Just because someone has difficulty speaking doesn't mean that they don't have something worthwhile to say. Be patient.

Just because someone is eloquent and well-spoken doesn't mean that they're telling the truth or have your best interests at heart. Practice critical thinking.

And most importantly your opinion matters, and you should express it, however imperfectly.

[lovebvni]

intuitive messages pac !!

THIS IS FROM 2023!! BE FOREWARNED

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│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

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[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 7.31.23

[  ] published ⋮  7.31.23

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hello earthlings, its been a while since i've done a pac, mainly because of MANY personal issues - but thats not important. i thought for a while and went back to my old pac's and i found an older one i made and i remembered, my intuition is just as powerful as ever - so why do i need tarot cards now?

today i'm just going to have 10 messages/sentences the universe wants you to hear. they can be specific or general.  remember, take everything can be taken with a grain of salt, and your future can be changed. you are in control.

now please, find your inner peace, connect to your soul.

understand these messages were meant to find you, and see what is left for you.

inhale, exhale, and pick a pile

Pile 1 - Watching

confirmation :

procrastinating, pushing things off, turning the other cheek, tumblr, the colour purple (show or the actual colour), spacing out, spirits, double meaning, two faced, gemini, hidden meanings/words, red eyes (tired, puffy), burnt out, music, 'good night, sleep tight, don't let the demons fight.', the letter s, sharks, 'the grass is greener'.

side note : the month of august (summer in general) be significant for your shifting/spiritual journey.

Your messages

1. Why would you wait when you could just grab at it? It's right there. Don't let it rot.

2. "Hello? Are you there, listening? Listen to me. I'm here to help. I promise." (this could be an inner voice or a spirit guide)

3. Be your own boss. Keep going.

4. Pass on to the next step (Death to life)

5. You know what's there, talk to it. "I wont hurt you."

6. Listen, don't speak.

7. Let it go. Be like Elsa, don't let it bother you anymore.

8. Mind, Body and Soul. You're in harmony. Use it to your advantage.

9. Advise and criticize. And use the same techniques on yourself.

10. Peace and love. You deserve it. You know you do. And you will find it, soon.

Pile 2 - Renew

conformation :

saiki k, giving up, letting go, leaving things behind, mental overload, 'Jesus fucking Christ', jealous, letting go of that person, shadow work, yellow, outlook, aries, the moon, big lips, 333, the number 3.

Your messages

1. Bite down. Let it flow into your veins, your soul, your spirit. Its part of you now.

2. Is it a real worry, or just something from your past you don't want to let go of?

3. Jail. Time to rest. Now.

4. Eat and care for your physical body. You can't idolize shifting. You're not getting anywhere doing that.

5. Look in the mirror - no. Not at the past. At who you are now. Who you've become.

6. You have the balls. Go fucking do it.

7. Don't accept the truth from other people, find and make your own. That's what they see, not what you know.

8. Her claws. Her teeth. She's manipulating you. Let her go. Rip away from her. She's wasting your time, energy and draining your soul.

9. "I  DO love you. That doesn't mean I'll let you hurt yourself."

10. I am watching. Always. In your good times and bad. I'm here for you. Just ask for help.

Pile 3 - Love

confirmation :

wrist and elbow, jumpscares/ being scared, saturn, planets, fnaf, cycles, broken cycles, love watch, soulmate reuniting, mha (lmao bro idek at this point), drawing, heartache, feeling lonely, barbie, hip dips, trios.

1. Wake up from that dream and make it a reality, you know what you have to do, so go do it.

2. "Beg for my mercy." - This had a VERY sexual undertone... Obviously from a dominant partner or something

3. 'Hello again, my friend! What do you have to tell me now?"

4. You know that thing you asked for? Yeah. It's coming. Keep your eyes pealed (for some I heard it's even coming tomorrow!)

5. Sit in silence, you know what it is. You hear the voices.

6. Pack your bags and go.

7. Grab on, I'll lead you to where you need to be.

8. Don't chase what you're attracting, that will only lead to disaster. (A manifestation you wanted is coming, this is basically saying don't overwork and beat yourself up over it. It's coming and nothing will stop it.)

9. Nature is your friend. Go out and ground yourself. Lay in the grass, smell the rain.

10. If you want to learn, you need the knowledge. Search for what you want to find. You can see it. Ask around. You'll find it. Look, look, look, search, look look, search, find.

I hope this pac resonated for everyone! remember, this will find you when you need it, take what relates, leave what doesnt. remember you are in charge of your future.

i love you. new things are coming.

dont give up.

1111

[kteezy997]

Daddy’s Boy- Part Four//t.c.

Warnings: some sexual undertones and angst

Timmy joined you in the kitchen, and he said, “So, I can sense that you weren’t happy about me not calling Theo last night.”

“I wasn't very pleased, no. I know that this is all new to you, Timmy, but you’ll have to realize the seriousness of this. You can’t go making promises all the time without following through. You’ve got a child counting on you now. It's not a game."

“I understand.” he accepted your criticism humbly.

“I hope you do. It’s a lot of responsibility, it’s not just play time. He's going to put his trust in you, not just love. And you’re not always going to get along with him. He's a good kid, he's sweet, but he can be unruly. I don’t want to sound like I'm harping on you, but these are just the facts of being a parent."

“I know, I know. I won’t fail him again. I’ll be there for him. I want to be with him as much as he wants a father. I accept the responsibility. You’re not alone anymore, y/n.” he stepped closer to you.

You could feel something. Something in the air. You could feel a strange tension between you and him.

“But tell me, was it just Theo that was upset about me not calling, or was it you too?” He asked, a smirk toyed with the corners of his lips.

“Timmy, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you were defiant. You knew he was on to you.

“Oh, no, I think you do.” he was walking towards you, lowering his gaze at you. "Look, I think about you all the time. I mean, even before we saw each other again. I haven't stopped loving you since we broke up."

"Timothee, we really don't need to get into it." And you didn't want to. It was one of the most painful points in your life.

"I'm sorry. I just feel like you were angry because you were waiting for me to call. It wasn't just about our son."

Wow. Hearing him referring to Theo as "our son," that...that was unexpected, and hot.

“Tell me, do you still think about us?”

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, you opened your lips to speak, to answer him, but nothing came out.

“Because I do. I remember everything we used to do together.” he had now closed the space between the two of you. He was dangerously near. All of your senses had absorbed him. He smirked as he said, "I remember everything."

"Timothee." you warned. This was not good. You didn't know if you had the power to resist him. This was the only man you ever loved. He was good, kind, and you could see him becoming a great father. On top of it all, he had somehow gotten more good-looking in the last three years. How attracted you were to him in the past had nothing on the way you wanted him now. It was so unfair.

"What, y/n?" he stared at you, teasing, no real expression on his face other than desire. "I remember how much you loved my hands all over your body, my tongue...I can be that guy for you again. I have missed you, I've missed your body, I've missed our life together." His hands were on your waist.

Your heart thumped rapidly in your chest, you felt the longing in your groin. It would only take one move from either of you and it would be on. "No, Timmy, we have to think about Theo. We shouldn't do this."

"I love that little boy. I would do anything for him, and I'd do anything for you. I'll do anything to prove it." He slid his hands around to rest your lower back, "For now, just...be with me, my sweet girl."

Your hands landed softly on his chest as he pulled you close. You noticed how difficult it was to breathe in this moment. It was everything you had hoped for all this time, there were countless nights where you had dreamt this moment.

"No." you removed your hands from his body and backed out of his embrace. "I can't."

Timmy stood there for a second, then put his hands in his pockets awkwardly, "Okay. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed you felt the same way after all this time."

You sighed, nothing could be further from the truth. "Look, let's change the subject. Would you want to set up a schedule for when you'd spend time with Theo?"

"Yes, yeah, I'd love to."

..........

You referred to your calendar with reminders of play dates and appointments for Theo. Timmy gave you his work schedule as well. You told him of certain medications to give Theo for different situations, such as if he has a tummy ache, as well as his regular allergy medications.

You asked Timmy if he had a room that Theo could use as a bedroom for when he stayed over at his place. When he said yes, you suggested getting a humidifier for the boy's room to help him breathe better as he sleeps.

You gave Timmy your parent's phone numbers for future reference and emergencies, if he can't get ahold of you first. Timmy was focused as he listened to you, and he asked questions. You could tell that he was taking everything very seriously. You wanted to trust that he could take care of Theo, and you felt like everything was on track for that to happen.

"Well, he has a doctor's appointment next week. It's just a regular check up, nothing serious. But he doesn't like doctors very much. He's sensitive to the cold stethoscope, and he hates having that popsicle thing shoved in his mouth. But would you be willing to try and take him?"

"Yes, I want to step up and do those things. But what do I do if he starts to be difficult, do I scold him?"

"I don't do the gentle parenting thing. Just be firm with him, and don’t be afraid to get in his face. He tends to get embarrassed about certain things, so that could be to your advantage. He might feel ashamed if you make it seem like he's not acting his age. Also, you’re still new in his life, so he may not think you will discipline him, and he’ll try to get away with a lot. Don’t give in to that.”

"Okay, that's all great to know. I can improvise when the moment comes." he chuckled. "It's getting late, I'm sure you need to get to sleep soon, so I'll get out of your hair."

"Oh, I'll send you a list of foods he will eat, and stuff he will not eat. And other things if I can think of them." you got up from the table.

Timmy stood up as well, "Thanks, I appreciate it. And, I know you're just being a good mom, but would it be alright if I learn some things about him, from him? I don't want my relationship with my son to feel like it's coming from an instruction manual."

"Oh god, I'm doing too much, aren't I? I’m sorry.” you sighed, and ran your hand through your hair.

"No, no, it's okay." Timmy laughed, "You're doing a great job. I appreciate you helping me so much through this. But you can trust me with him. I’m going to mess up, it’s inevitable. But he's smart, he can let me know if I'm doing something wrong."

You put your hands on your hips, recalling the times your son has sassed you, "Oh, yeah, that's for sure. And I hate to come on so strongly when it comes to him, and maybe it’s too much, but I just want what’s best for him. I think you’ll do great, Timmy.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I totally get it, y/n.”

You smiled back at him, suddenly you felt the tiredness in your body. Your bed had been calling your name, but you couldn’t hear it because Timmy was around. He had a way of commanding your attention. “I’ll walk you out.”

………

“Well, I'll talk to you soon." He said as you walked toward the front door together. He stopped, leaned in and kissed your cheek. Then, he closed his eyes, "Sorry."

"It's okay." you said, brushing it off as if you felt nothing.

He shook his head, no doubt thinking of the past, how he'd kissed your cheek a million times. He said, "Goodnight." then walked to the door to leave.

"Timmy, wait." you said, not even knowing what you would do.

He stopped in his tracks, then turned toward you.

You went to him, put your hands on his face, you noticed the lines under the edges of his eyes; the smile lines that only added to his beauty. You had caught a glimpse of what your son would look like in twenty-five years’ time.

He watched you, tentatively. His gaze was soft as he looked down at you.

You closed your eyes, leaned in and kissed him.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69

[slothkittfunsies]

Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

[notes-of-nari]

Stray Kids as the Friendly Ghost

I.N •You were intrigued for many years about the mysterious boy who lives in your twin house. You have seen him randomly either in your shared garden or at the doorstep of his side of the house. Even though you had always wanted to strike up a conversation with him you always decided to do it later because you were afraid that you might embarrass yourself by going there and stuttering (cause you knew pretty well that you were most probably having a crush on him)

•Speaking about crush, it all comes crashing down when you tell a friend of yours about him and she goes on to reveal that the other side of your twin house is actually empty?? You don't believe it until a little call to the person who sold you the side of your house reveals that the other side is indeed empty.

•however when you walk back home you find him sitting on the swing in your shared garden his eyes closed as he silently seems to sing along to a song that plays from his headphones.

•You trip on a stone and nearly fall. He opens an eye and looks at you and notices you look at him. His eyes widen in surprise as his palm flies towards his mouth. he then runs towards his side of the house.

•Your mind is completely in turmoil as you wonder who this mysterious person is. After a sleepless night, you decide to find out the truth for yourself. So you march up to his side of the house and loudly knock on the door. You earn a few suspicious glances from your neighbours but no one answers the door. •You wonder if studying too much has made you go crazy and see things. But this guy was your crush! Is his presence also like your non existent love life?

•However your efforts are fruitful. One day as you stand at his doorstep ready to knock on his door,he opens the door right at that moment. "oh hii" you greet him and his eyes widen again before he shuts the door right in your face. "rude.." you mutter before he opens the door again and looks at you in disbelief. "you can see me?" he asks. "yeah" you shrug. "no wayyy...no.." •you notice a few tears falling down his eyes as he suddenly hugs you. He seems to be shaking as he sobs. You are frozen unable to understand what's happening but you pat his back hoping he would calm down. • "No freaking wayyyy" It is now your time to express your disbelief as he reveals that he is a ghost? He introduces himself as Jeongin. • You are soon able to accept that he is indeed a ghost. (rip your non existent love life/and crush) • Even though you both were awkward at first after some time you both become good friends. However a few days later you wake up to find seven ghosts glaring at you. "If you hurt him we will kill you" One of them threatens while holding a knife at your direction. "No minho is just joking. we won't kill you but please take care of Jeongin yeah?.." the ghost with an Australian accent says before he pulls his friend away and the seven of them disappear.

•"Jeongin the ghost" as you now fondly call him ,drags you on his random late night walks as he explores various parts of your little town. •Judges your fashion taste like Anton ego judges food. What kind of garbage are you wearing in this household? This is uhh a hoodie.. skirt and trousers.". Shakes his head in disappointment while mumbling something that sounds like "looks like a Disney series came to life"

•you wake up one day with a whole fashion critic report on your bedside table. you only have three black hoodies,two jeans,one skirt,and 2 black tee shirts? Let's go shopping bitch.

•Every messy person like you who has a gold fish memory deserves a friend like him. "Did you see my note book?" "You left it on the chair" "Did I visit the doctor last month" "yes you did..you even brought a guide to crocheting on the way back here" " oh shit I forgot that I brought such a book" "jeongin did you take my chocolate chip tart?" "You ate it last Sunday remember?" •Helps you pack your clothes for your three day college trip.But he literally overpacks amidst your protests. "come on jeongin it's just a three day educational trip. I don't need 5 t shirts" He is not pleased about the fact that you removed all the extra clothes he had packed for you. So later that night when you are asleep he adds all those clothes back into your suitcase. Fast forward- 1st day of the trip night, you open your suitcase to find a whole ton of clothes. "YANG JEONGIN!!!!!" ------The ghost who is chilling back at home suddenly sneezes. "I guess she is thanking me for adding the extra clothes" He smiles and shrugs. •If you need someone's true and honest opinion on anything he is the number one choice. No sugar coating just the honest hard truth. •When you ask him if he can help you with your college assignments, "do i look like someone who survived past the 1st year of college?" he deadpans before disappearing. • He gifts you with a pair of shoes and a cake on your birthday. You are so happy and grateful so you try to hug him. But he runs away out of your reach. "come on dude let me hug you once.." "no" he runs around the house ( he doesn't disappear like usual though?) "you hugged me first" you remind him of the day he hugged you after he realized that you could see him. "that was a one time thing" he shouts as he leaps away from your reach. BangChan / Lee Know / Changbin / Hyunjin /Han Jisung / Felix/ Seungmin

[heyftinally]

April 30th is the Day of the Homeschooled Child

I was one of the 1.7 million children homeschooled in the USA.

I am also one of Homeschool's Invisible Children.

I was heavily restricted at home - I was barred from nearly everything that my peers were connecting with. I had incredibly limited access to movies and TV, even more restricted internet access, and was even barred from many of the same toys my peers played with. This on top of my academic isolation made socializing very hard.

I didn't relate to my peers socially.

Children younger than me were more academically advanced than me.

I was socially unaware, and frequently missed jokes or made faux pas comments because I didn't understand how to interact with peers.

My ADHD went untreated my entire childhood.

And the issues were not only social. Despite living in a state that boasted some of the most rigorous checks for homeschooled students, I was missed. My portfolios every year were falsified - much of what they claimed I had learned I had little to no understanding of.

By the time I graduated high school "with honors" (that I did not earn and were entirely false), this is a brief list of some of my academic failings:

I had never written an essay, and did not know how

I did not know how to do a critical analysis of a piece of text or media

I was incapable of math above a 4th/5th grade level

I could not tell time on an analog clock

I could not identify more than ~5 states on a map of the United States

I could not identify more than ~5 countries on a map of the world/globe

I could not spell above a ~6th grade level

I did not know that there was proof of life on earth prior to dinosaurs

I did not know that the lymphatic system was real

And so much more.

I entered college woefully unequipped for both the academic and socal demands that were placed on me. At 18, I was closer to as 14 year old, social/emotionally. Academically I was much worse.

I had to work three times as hard as my peers to achieve the same results, battled my still-undiagnosed ADHD as well as my academic and social neglect.

I didn't fully know who I even was as a person, due to spending so many years being expected to fit a specific ideal that was enforced upon me 24/7 through the isolation of homeschooling.

This April 30th, I'm wearing green for Homeschool's Invisible Children - for children like me.

If you are a child experiencing homeschool neglect, please know that you are not alone. There are resources available to you, and your future is not doomed just because your guardians failed to educate you. I'm listing some resources below that may be of help to you.

Homeschool alumni/survivors who resonate with this story: we deserved better. We deserved education. We deserved freedom. It's okay if you're angry at your past. It's okay if you're grieving the life you might have had without homeschooling. It's okay if you're conflicted. I hope you're able to find closure and healing in whatever form that means for you.

And, because I know it unfortunately needs to be said, if you're an ex-homeschooler or a homeschool parent who feels the need to jump on this post and defend yourself, I need you to step back, sit down, delete your comment, and sit with why you feel so attacked by our truth.

This is not a personal attack on you - this is abuse survivors speaking up to prevent further abuse. It is not your place to tell us we should be silent.

"But homeschoolers test better and are more successful!" I'm sure you're dying to say. To wave your statistics at me.

And you would be wrong. Because here's the problem with those statistics.

Let's pretend we have ten homeschooled children and ten public schooled children.

All ten of the public schooled children take a school assessment. Because some excel at different things than others, the public school students average out to an 85.

Only four of the homeschooled children take the assessment. Of the other six, one is traveling with their family during the assessment, two are not permitted because their parents know they aren't up to grade level and fear backlash or judgement, two are mentally or physically disabled and so their parents don't feel the test will adequately display their knowledge, and the last hasn't received any kind of education in years because their parents keep them at home either doing chores, working a job, caring for siblings, or they are simply neglected and spend all day hungry and scared.

Of the four homeschooled children that do take the assessment, they do quite well, as their parents knew/suspected they would. Their average score is a 98.

A 98 is better than an 85, yes. But just because 4 out of 6 homeschooled children were above the public school average does not mean homeschooling is automatically better. If you tested the top four public school students, they might very well score a 98 as well.

However, if you included those other six homeschooled students, the average homeschool score would very likely be something closer to a 45.

So when we talk about Homeschool's Invisible Children, we're talking about those six that never got the chance to take an assessment. Those six who never had a chance to tell a teacher "I'm ten and I don't know how to read". Those six who may not even realize how far behind their peers they are. Those six who deserved to have access to supports so that they could learn in ways that actually met their needs.

So while your statistics look good on paper, they are not honest. They do not present the full picture of homeschooling. Listen to the homeschool survivors who were one of those six kids who never got to make their voices heard. We have a voice now - don't try and take it from us.

Resources for current homeschool students and alumni:

Khan Academy - basically free online self paced K-12 classes. They have fantastic explanation videos for the lessons, you can review them whenever you want, and you don't have to stay in the same grade level for every subject - great if you're trying to catch up and you're in 6th grad for English but 2nd for math. They have courses besides just core classes (math/english/science/etc), too! They run on donations, but it's completely free to use. Also, this site is used in my local public school system to supplement the existing curriculum, so it's not just for homeschoolers!

Coalition for Responsible Home Education - actively fighting for more oversight and restrictions on homeschooling in the USA. They mostly do awareness and advocacy, but they also have resources on their site for things like what to do if you don't have a high school transcript. They run on donations, but the information is freely available.

Probably the most famous resource on this list. Videos that give you a "crash course" (aka a condensed overview) of a wide variety of topics. These are best used as supplement to more structured lessons like Khan Academy, but they have a lot of merit on their own if they're all you can manage. Knowing a bit about something is better than knowing nothing about it!

[holysainz]

mended bonds - lewis hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

warnings: brief mention of minor accident

summary: in which brocedes are (secretely) future brother-in-laws

“Ready for the race?”

You look at Lewis Hamilton, your boyfriend, who’s dressed in his fireproofs, a gleaming helmet under his arm. His smile warms your heart but there’s a tension in his eyes, a wariness that’s been growing these past few months.

“Always ready to cheer for you,” you respond, your heart thrumming in your chest.

And it’s true. You, being Nico Rosberg’s sister, have always had a passion for racing. The roaring of the engines, the blistering speeds, the smell of hot rubber, all have been ingrained in you from childhood. But more than anything else, it’s the man standing in front of you that brings you to the paddock now.

“We can’t keep hiding this, you know,” Lewis speaks up suddenly, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

A shiver courses through you. You have been together secretly for nearly four years now, carefully navigating the tension that exists between Lewis and Nico after their explosive fallout. You knew revealing your relationship would make things even more complex. Still, you sense the truth in Lewis’ words.

“Let’s get through today first,” you propose. This race is critical for him. He doesn’t need more pressure.

His lips press into a thin line but he nods, squeezing your hand gently before he leaves.

—

At the circuit, your heart races with each passing lap. Lewis is performing exceptionally. But then, it happens. Lewis and another car collide, spinning him off the track. Your heart plummets, the world becomes a blur. The spectators gasp, but it’s your brother’s face that you see first. It’s white with fear.

“Is he alright?” Nico asks, gripping your arm. His rivalry with Lewis is known but in this moment, you see their shared history, the times when they were friends and brothers rather than rivals.

“I … I don’t know,” you stutter. A pang of guilt strikes you. You need to tell him.

—

Later, in the hospital, when you finally see Lewis bruised but alive, relief washes over you. You grasp his hand tightly. He manages a weak smile. “Guess I’m out of commission for a while.”

His nonchalance doesn’t fool you. You lean over, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’m just glad you’re still here with me.”

And you know it’s time. No more secrets. You ask Nico to come to the hospital.

—

Nico looks confused when he enters but when he sees Lewis’ hand in yours, his eyes widen in shock.

“Nico … Lewis and I … we’re together. For a while now,” you blurt out.

Nico’s surprise fades into something you can’t decipher. He steps back, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we didn’t want to complicate things further,” you reply, hoping he would understand.

“It’s already complicated!” Nico snaps. “Do you know what people will say? It’ll be a media circus!”

“We don’t care,” Lewis intervenes. “We’re not living our lives for the media or anyone else. It’s our decision.”

Nico glares at him but his anger melts into resignation. He sighs heavily, “You’re right … it’s not my place. I wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me sooner, though.”

“I was scared, Nico. I — we — didn’t want to lose you,” you admit.

He gives you a sad smile, “You won’t lose me, sis. And you,” he turns to Lewis, “You better take care of her.”

—

In the following days, you and Lewis brace yourselves for the media storm. It’s intense, just as Nico predicted, but together you weather it.

You and Lewis continue to support each other. And slowly, Nico and Lewis start rebuilding their strained friendship, understanding that the rivalry on the tracks should not destroy the bond off it.

Love, you learn, does not have to be a secret to be precious. It’s in the shared smiles, the quiet moments together, the support when times are tough. And now that it’s out in the open, you realize that your relationship with Lewis, far from being a point of contention, has become a bridge between two estranged friends.

And in that, you find your happiness. Not just in love but in the reconciliation it has brought and the bonds of brotherhood it has mended. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just the thrill of the race that matters but the people who ride alongside us in life and in love.

—

taglist: @musingsbyshreya

[hnbka]

no. no, i will not be taking criticism. because will byers sat mike wheeler down THREE TIMES and went "sometimes, it's scary. you gotta understand where el is coming from."

and MY mike wheeler, you're telling my EMPATHETIC, UNDERSTANDING mike wheeler wouldn't already be on that shit??? BE SO FOR REAL.

you mean THIS mike wheeler??

you can't possibly mean THIS mike wheeler??

the mike wheeler who called his situationship for 353 days?

and yes, will was using el to get his feelings across but you'd think somewhere along the line, mike wouldn't be staring at will like this:

mike wheeler knows full well why his girlfriend is mad at him for not saying "i love you" and getting bullied. mike wheeler is not stupid and i refuse to let people tell me his character has been "ruined" by bad writing. not a SINGLE character was "ruined" generally speaking in season 4, but you think the writers just said "well, that sucks for mike. we have no idea what to do with him." NO. and they definitely wouldn't give him like five heart to hearts.

so why is mike staring at will like that?

well:

mike: maybe i should have explained myself. i didn't know what to say [to el].

will: sometimes, it's just scary to open up like that. to say how you really feel. especially to the people you care about. because what if they don't like the truth?

mike, as far as we know, was scared to lose el. she won't like that truth? why not? he's already told her before. he was trying to say "i love you" in season three.

and yet, mike is so moved by this. we know will connects to his own speech ITS ABOUT HIM. and mike ALSO relates to will's words. which are about being GAY.

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST, YOU ARE HOMOSEXUAL

and because it's not byler analysis without blocking evidence:

el, between mike and will. el, being used by both mike and will as a shield and mask of their true feelings.

[youremyheaven]

Moon Dominance & Manipulation pt 3

I just keep finding more examples and I couldn't not share. They will vary in terms of the severity of abuse and manipulation. Some are quite silly but some are pretty fcked up. Salty Moon dominants who cannot stand being criticized, stay mad boo 😘you will never stop me from speaking my truth<3

One thing I have noticed about Moon dominant individuals is that they completely seem to believe the lies they tell others. They don't think they're being manipulative at the slightest because they fully believe everything they say, no matter how absurd or outlandish it is. This means that Moon dominants are easily influenced and can be manipulated easily even if they are also capable of blatantly manipulating and deceiving others. I see Moon dominants stuck in unhealthy relationships simply because they'll just play mind games with their partner until the day they die instead of just choosing peace.

Katrina Kaif, Hasta Moon

Katrina has lied about being half-Indian and half-white her entire career to be more "relatable" to Indians. no one knows who her father is or how exactly she grew up and how a British woman like her ended up modelling and acting in India at the age of 17. She's now one of the biggest stars in the country and to this day no one knows much about her background.

She is one of 8 siblings, all of whom are extremely white looking

it is possible that Katrina is mixed while her siblings are not but it's also possible that she just inherited a more olive complexion compared to her siblings??

this is a picture of Kat and some of her siblings as kids, this man vaguely looks like he could be POC but there are plenty of spicy white men who have darker features/hair & eye color?

if this is the father in question, his name is Ronald Turcotte (Katrina's birth name is Kate Turcotte, she "Indianized" her name to be Katrina Kaif when she made her debut 20+yrs ago) and this is a pic of him with his current wife:

He literally just looks like a regular white guy with some Italian ancestry or something.

Katrina has not only lied about being "half-Indian" but also said her father's name is Mohammad Kaif and that he was a Kashmiri businessman lmao

The producer of her first film who introduced her to Bollywood said:

 "We created an identity for her. She was this pretty young English girl, and we gave her the Kashmiri father and thought of calling her Katrina Kazi. We thought we'd give her some kind of Indian ancestry, to connect with the audience ... But then we thought that Kazi sounded too ... religious? ... Mohammad Kaif was at the top, and so we said, Katrina Kaif sounds really great" (for context, Mohammad Kaif is the name of a well known cricketer)

She once said:

 “Probably it may sound very stupid. You know you must have seen enough and your friends, how you have dark children who grew up to be fair. I was a very dark child so there was no way that you would look at me and say this is a Caucasian child. I was always viewed upon as oh how exotic or how ethnic."

Even Emily Ratajkowski is very non-white looking for a white woman, imagine if she started claiming that she "feels" ethnic as she "looks" ethnic.

Here are some excerpts from a 2011 interview:

The complicated politics of a tan skin white woman feeling validated by being comparatively light skinned in a deeply colorist country like India and lying about being half-Indian is just ..... 🤢🤮🤢

Bella Hadid- Hasta Sun

Bella, her brother and mother all suffer from a condition called "chronic Lyme disease". Gigi, the only person who does not have Lyme, has Hashimoto's disease.

Lets get a few things out of the way. Lyme disease is a real, entirely treatable and completely curable illness. All you have to do is take antibiotics and you'll make a full recovery in about 2 weeks.

Chronic Lyme disease is a different condition and widely debunked by the medical community for not being a real condition.

Wikipedia defines Chronic Lyme as:

"Chronic Lyme disease is the name used by some people with non-specific symptoms, such as fatigue, muscle pain, and cognitive dysfunction to refer to their condition, even if there is no evidence that they had Lyme disease."

That said, Bella and her mom have been talking about their struggles with Lyme disease for over a decade now. Medical professionals all deny the existence of this condition and both Bella and Yolanda (her mom) are treated by various quack, pseudoscientific "alternative" medicine practitioners who are more or less ill qualified and not real doctors.

When Bella was 16yrs old, she was arrested for driving under the influence and this was literally addressed on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, the show that her mother starred in. Yolanda used to write a blog for Bravo in which she expressed her thoughts about this incident and she also mentioned writing a long letter to Bella.

Yolanda's dad died in a car accident when she was 7 and she was very frightened by Bella's accident but also relieved that neither she nor anybody else was injured.

That letter she wrote was somehow leaked and is available on the internet. Here it goes:

Interestingly enough, Bella was diagnosed with "chronic lyme" 👀in the same year. Bella once mentioned that she started smoking cigarettes at 14yrs old and clearly by 16 she was drunk driving with a cocktail of substances stashed in her car. Bella's old tumblr blog that has been widely circulated also reveals that she struggled with an eating disorder at this time and perhaps depression as well.

I mention all this because I have always suspected Bella of using "chronic lyme" as a cover up for her struggles with substance abuse and her eating disorder. Even all the symptoms for chronic lyme are so vague that pretty much anybody could experience them, but their occurrence is greatly exacerbated if one suffers from stress/anxiety/is abusing drugs etc (more on this in a minute).

In an interview, Bell said of her DUI:

"I stopped driving because I kept crashing, because my brain just stopped working.’ She had an accident — ‘It was when I first got sick. It was a dark time’ — which was reported in the press as a DUI. ‘I was exhausted all the time. It affected my memory so I suddenly wouldn’t remember how to drive to Santa Monica from Malibu where I lived. I couldn’t ride. I was just too sick. And I had to sell my horse because I couldn’t take care of it.’ It was an emotional blow on top of the physical."

Now the thing is, Yolanda mentioned in her own blog post that Bella went to AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) meetings as mandated by the court:

"I decided to take her phone away, make her pay for her own lawyer bills from her savings, and we sold her car. The court suspended her license for one year, she received six months probation, and was required to conduct 25 hours of community service and 20 hours of AA meetings."

She likely stopped driving because Yolanda got on her ass and sold her car lol?? As Yolanda herself said??? Yolanda never said one word about Lyme and she's pretty much the self-appointed spokesperson for Lyme so the fact that in her own blog post literally right after the accident, she addresses the issue for what it is makes Bella's later remarks of her being tOo siCk tO drIvE sound like a lie 🤥

This is an easy example of how Moon dominants manipulate the truth to suit their narrative and make themselves look better. Bella made her debut later that year and it would look bad if everyone saw Bella as a spoilt bratty nepo baby who was also a teenage alcoholic riding her sister's coattails into modelling. Also you have to remember, Bella was the less popular sister back then and she only became an icon and it girl by like 2019ish.

It suited Bella and later Yolanda to keep pushing the chronic lyme agenda to win sympathy.

Also just btw, I think Yolanda is super fucked up and this letter offers an interesting look into her mind. She is Uttarashada Sun and Jyeshta Moon and I think its sooo bizarre how her daughter almost died in a car crash and all she can talk about is how dirty and messy the car is??? Why isn't she talking about Bella being drunk out of her mind or about her alcohol habit in general??? Why is she not pointing out her actual concerning lifestyle instead of "oh my god youre soooo messy and im soooo sad" ??? anywayyys

Ever since then, chronic lyme has been Bella's go to to describe everything about herself. Symptoms that could easily be from stress, anxiety, depression, addiction, starving herself etc are all blamed on a non-existent condition. When actual doctors say the condition does not exist and you and your mom claim it does, I think it says something 😬

Also, Yolanda was sick during the filming of her reality show and it was found out that her breast implants had ruptured and the silicon was leaking into her bloodstream and making her sick. She later said it was Chronic Lyme instead lmfaooo. So there is plenty of proof that both mom and daughter are just making this shit up.

one thing I cannot stand about Moon dominants is how they constantly seek validation for everything they do and love to win sympathy. Meghan Markle, Hasta Moon is another example. Sympathy capitalist, Selena Gomez (Cancer stellium) is another example.

What exactly was Bella trying to prove by posting pictures of her looking very out of it?? To prove to people that she is indeed sick?? There are many celebs out there who struggle with chronic illnesses, are they posting pics from their treatment??? Overall, it feels very "🥺🥺poor me, im so grateful despite everything, im so strong, look at how much i suffer and struggle!!!" as if she's trying to downplay any privilege bashing she may get by counteracting it with a "im extremely sick" narrative bc no one can hate on someone who is ill even if that is a fictional illness.

There were rumours all of last year that she took a break from modelling to go to rehab and she had also broken up with her then bf.

look at those symptoms and tell me you haven't experienced those at some point lmao. I used to struggle with severe anxiety many years ago and an eating disorder several years ago and I experienced pretty much all of those symptoms. I say this because those symptoms by itself are really vague and not specific to any one illness.

another really sus issue is why Bella felt the need to post pics of her medical history??? like she's a model not running for President lmao,,,, its obvious that she really wants to be perceived as struggling with chronic lyme. Most people with a health issue stay quiet about it (their issues are also actual illnesses but oh well)

This is a screenshot of a lab test she posted:

A clinical lab scientist who performs tests on infectious diseases (like Lyme) said:

First off, having this amount and varied pathogens within your body at once is not impossible but is highly unusual. Even one of these pathogens would make a patient extraordinarily ill. If I were performing PCR and got that many positives, I would 100% not release results until a consult with an infectious disease MD.

In that list, there are bloodborne bacteria and viruses, intestinal parasites, many of which have nothing to do with Lyme disease.

That last page is important. The source states "urine". There are virtually no PCR tests performed on urine currently because pathogens are not usually shed through urine and often urine is contaminated by urogenital flora. This is the ARUP tickborne PCR panel which details out which pathogens would be tested for and the type of sample they would need (blood). ARUP is a large reference lab in the US and performs some rare tests. Again, it's extremely unlikely to see that many pathogens positive in one sample.

All of this is to say, Miss ma'am Bella Hadid faked her hospital records by paying some quack guy for it and put it on IG for sympathy 😬💀💀

I have nothing against Bella, I think she's iconic but her spreading literal medical misinformation to millions of impressionable people who eat up her every word is absolutely dangerous, unprofessional and awful and I sincerely hope she's called out/exposed for it.

first of all, none of these words mean absolutely anything.

"energy is in proper balance" ??? "alkaline tissue pH"? ?? just say you dont have a medical degree and goooo

On this document it says the test was conducted by 'Manhattan Advanced Medicine'.

Here is an excerpt from Manhattan Advanced Medicine's LinkedIn page:

Do they sound like legitimate doctors to you?? They're just one of those scammy New Age-y alternate medicine places that rich people with money to blow, go to, so they feel better about themselves.

I sincerely hope Bella gets actual treatment for her real struggles with mental health/ED/potential substance issues etc and I hope she has the strength to admit to herself that she's using a fictional narrative to gain sympathy from others and as a coping mechanism to avoid dealing with her real problems. Bella grew up as the middle child and felt neglected by Yolanda pretty much, some say that the whole "chronic Lyme" has probably become the only bonding activity for the two of them and the only time Bella felt like she was loved by her mom (which is so sad) which is why she's been going on with it for 10yrs now. Whatever it may be, I hope they all get better.

Elizabeth Holmes- Shravana Sun

Many of you are probably already familiar with scammer Liz Holmes

She was founder and CEO of Theranos, a blood-testing company.

Prosecutors accused Holmes of intentionally misleading investors and patients. Out of the more than 200 blood tests advertised, the in-house “Edison” machines could perform a very small number themselves and could not provide accurate results. Holmes is also alleged to have lied about the scale of the company's profits. 

Two of the most striking examples of the Theranos machines’ faulty test results were two female patients. One of the women was diagnosed as HIV positive but the finding was refuted by further blood tests. A second woman who had suffered several miscarriages received test results from Theranos during her pregnancy which indicated that she had lost her baby once again. The test was faulty and she later gave birth to a healthy baby. Internal emails, however, revealed that the start-up concealed the erroneous results from investors and business partners by using a modified demo device or by partially hiding test results from them. 

The prosecution also presented a 55-page report in which Theranos officials added the logos of pharmaceutical companies GlaxoSmithKline, Pfizer and Schering-Plough to give the impression that they had approved the technology. However, a scientist employed by Pfizer testified that he found the start-up’s claims to be implausible and advised Pfizer not to collaborate. The prosecutors were able to show that Theranos had nevertheless sent the report with the subsequently inserted logos to investors and business partners. 

The interesting thing about Moon dominants and their manipulation is that unlike Saturn which is direct and in your face with how awful it is, Moon natives deceive and pretend. You will never realise the truth until you learn to look for it. With a Saturnian, you can always tell because they dont know how to hide it.

Moon does not have any light of its own. Moon also does not have a fixed form. Its waxing one day, waning the next. So it makes sense as to why these natives "manipulate" or "distort" the truth, since its kind of in their nature, to do so?

This brought me to an interesting observation of how Moon dominants seem to completely fall for pseudoscientific stuff. Bella, whom I already mentioned is one example but there are many more.

So, in Hinduism, the Moon God is named 'Soma' but the word 'Soma' is also used to refer to an intoxicating drink.

In the Vedas, the word Soma was actually primarily used for an intoxicating and energizing/healing plant drink and the deity could have received his name from the drink potentially?👀

The Hindu texts state that the Moon is lit and nourished by the Sun, and that it is Moon where the divine nectar of immortality resides.

In some Indian texts, Soma is the name of an apsara; alternatively it is the name of any medicinal concoction, or rice-water gruel, or heaven and sky, as well as the name of certain places of pilgrimage.

Whilst this connotation can explain their dizzying relationship with presenting the truth and how absolutely convinced they are of their own lies (Moon dominants manipulate others but are also easily manipulated tbh, they are both predator and prey). I think mythological backdrop also explains why so many Moon dominants are always kind of on the hunt for the elixir of life by adopting all kinds of New Age-y, holistic, spiritual 'alternative' medicine/lifestyle/treatment etc.

The thing is, there is truth to herbal remedies and holistic living but Moon dominants seldom pursue the truth of these practices, they always pick the weirdest, strangest stuff that absolutely helps no one and is most definitely a scam.

Gwyneth Paltrow- Hasta Sun & Mercury, Rohini Moon, Venus in Ashlesha atmakaraka

Lady Goop is a classic example of how Moon dominants can be very deluded with their "alternate" therapies/lifestyle. Moon dominants are easily confused and the path of wellness and spirituality is paved with many distractions to weed out the unworthy. Many get lost in this completely and mistake this Maya for the truth. Miss Gwyneth is one of them.

I have beef with this bc some of Goop's stuff is stupid but harmless (vagina candles, anyone?) but other times, she literally spreads dangerous medical advice to a very large audience (just like Bella).

On her website, she has an article about how to treat 'Candida' (a real condition which she has approached in a very pseudoscientific way). The symptoms, like Bella's, are vague, and include bloating, dandruff, sugar cravings, a bad memory and fatigue. Diagnosis includes something called a urine organix dysbiosis test (Bella's diagnosis also included a liver dysbiosis lmao) , while treatment involves limiting yourself to one piece of fruit a day and “overpowering the yeast” with anti-fungal supplements.

In 2017, Paltrow suggested women should insert a $66 egg shaped jade or rose quartz stone into their vagina to help “increase vaginal muscle tone, hormonal balance, and feminine energy in general.” Users were encouraged to thread dental floss through a purpose-built hole to help with releasing the egg. After facing backlash from gynaecologists over its dubious health claims and potential harmful results including toxic shock syndrome, Goop settled a $145,000 lawsuit for “unsubstantiated” marketing claims.

In Daoist sexual teachings, this is actually a legit practice but a white woman appropriating it and then selling it does not sit right with me :// and also its to be used along with a strict spiritual practice and has to be performed according to proper techniques. Obviously eastern spirituality is suuuper commercialized in the west and its reduced to sticking jade eggs up inside you and misses the very important context and tradition its rooted in and also sticking factory produced and probably chemically treated anything INSIDE U, is not a good idea??

A 2018 detox guide recommended an at-home coffee enema kit to stimulate users’ intestines from the comfort of their own home. A couple of years later, while hooked up to a vitamin drip on The Art of Being Well podcast, Paltrow revealed she had also “used ozone therapy, rectally,” a procedure which involves pumping oxygen via catheter into the colon. Scientists immediately dismissed Paltrow’s health claims.

In 2017, Goop suggested that anyone who wanted to “rebalance the energy frequency in our bodies” should try placing Body Vibes stickers on their arms or near their heart. The site claimed the stickers ($120 for a pack of 24) were “made with the same conductive carbon material Nasa uses to line space suits so they can monitor an astronaut’s vitals”. A fact that was quickly debunked when Nasa confirmed that they “do not have any conductive carbon material lining the spacesuits.”

There's a lot more but I'll stop here for now. Gwyneth is convinced of the validity of her claims and does not see anything wrong with it. This is how Moon dominants are and thats what makes their manipulation so damaging.

Andrew Huberman- Rohini Moon

He is a neuroscientist and wellness podcaster called "Goop for bros".

His protocols for good living involve things like taking enormous amounts of expensive supplements, ensuring you view early morning sunlight for 10-30 minutes after waking, carefully timing when you drink coffee and plunging yourself in ice baths. (probiotics and supplements are a complete scam, there are studies proving they do absolutely nothing for u)

He has covered everything from creativity to hair loss and despite having no professional expertise on all the things he covers, he acts like he does lmao

Huberman was exposed for taking steroids to achieve his body while he was promoting "wellness" and telling people to take cold showers and work out and eat clean etc lmao. He also reportedly earned millions from running adverts for dietary products and wellness supplements.

He went from science expert to guru. He used to have discussions of how the brain and body respond to certain stimuli but later extended that to broad prescriptions for lifestyle and dietary modification which he is not qualified to do??

Last month he was exposed for having 5 different girlfriends who all thought they were in an exclusive relationship with him.

Sarah, says she was in a relationship with Huberman for around three years, and had been undergoing IVF treatment to have a child with him when she found he had been having unprotected sex with at least five other women at the same time.

Her suspicions were aroused when she contracted a high-risk form of HPV, a sexually transmitted infection linked to cervical cancer, despite having been tested for ten years.

Along with Sarah, others known only as Eve, Mary, Alex, and an unknown fifth and potentially sixth, were all romantically associated with him - some having been led to believe they were exclusive for years. All believed that other exes in Huberman’s life had been “stalkers, alcoholics, and compulsive liars” according to the report. (Moon dominants manipulating the truth to suit them)

“I’m at the stage of life where I truly want to build a family,” he told Eve while he was reportedly involved with several others. “That’s a resounding theme for me.”

Yet, despite the reassuring words he appeared to be chronically unreliable disappearing for extended periods of time with no indication of his whereabouts.

For a man interested in promoting personal growth, he also appeared to be unapologetic about deceiving his therapists, of which he has had several over the years.

“We were at dinner once and he told me something personal, and I suggested he talk to his therapist,” shared Eve. “He laughed it off like that wasn’t ever going to happen, so I asked him if he lied to his therapist. He told me he did all the time.”

Despite his dismissal of therapy, the podcaster appears to have maximised the use of “therapy-speak” to familiarise himself with the internal experiences of many women.

“I hear you are saying you are angry and hurt,” he texted Sarah as she discovered journal entries about his infidelity. “I will hear you as much and as long as needed for us.”

“Your feelings matter,” he told Eve on a day when he had injected his girlfriend Sarah with hCG as part of their IVF treatment. “I’m actually very much a caretaker.”

Discussing sex addiction with another woman, Huberman denied he was a sex addict instead referring to himself as a “love addict”.

On one day in March, the women realised that Huberman had flown Mary thousands of miles from Texas to LA to stay with him in Topanga, California, some six-hour drive from where Sarah stayed in Berkeley. On that same day, he left Mary at home with his dog as he drove to a coffee shop to meet Eve to have a serious conversation about their relationship.

Anywayyys, thats enough about him. He's a cheating, conniving, manipulative asshole.

Oprah Winfrey- Shravana Sun

Oprah has used her platform to air dangerous pseudoscience for decades.

In 2007, The Oprah Winfrey Show, the no. 1 talk show for 23 consecutive seasons, welcomed former Playboy model and MTV host Jenny McCarthy. 

The program gave McCarthy carte blanche to share a theory: that her son’s autism resulted from vaccines laced with hazardous chemicals. Despite a lack of concrete scientific evidence, McCarthy was lauded for her “warrior spirit” to speak up for other concerned moms. The lasting damage this has done to the country is concerning bc now it seems there are more antivaxxers than ever before.

The longest-reigning queen of daytime television promoted New Age scams, pushed unsustainable fad diets, and anointed problematic faith healers like John of God (now imprisoned) or pseudoscientific doctors like Dr. Oz. She sold us on magical thinking. 

Indeed, before the “Goop-ification of wellness,” there was the “Oprah-fication of medicine.”

In the ‘80s, Oprah helped fuel the satanic ritual abuse / repressed memories panic by interviewing folks like the author of the later-debunked memoir Michelle Remembers. In the ‘90s, she had “women’s health expert” Christiane Northrup—a quack physician who spewed nonsense like thyroid dysfunction stems from women not speaking up enough (an “energy blockage”), that love can heal AIDS, and mammograms aren’t safe—on her show 12 times. In the early aughts, she promoted the feel-good gibberish that is The Secret, insinuating positive thoughts were all that separated you from success, riches, and yes, even medical recoveries.

And remember when Oprah notoriously hosted Suzanne Somers in 2009? The actress touted injecting hormones directly into one’s vagina to stave off aging and menopausal hot flashes, along with downing 40 supplements daily.

Like Gwyneth and Huberman, Oprah sold pseudoscience to millions of people who didnt know any better to make hugeeee profits. I am pretty sure Bella will follow suit and also set up a vitamin supplement business in the near future and it will probably also be her downfall.

Song JiA- Shravana Moon

She became extremely popular after her appearance on the show Single's Inferno and there are hundreds of videos trying to analyse why all the men on that show went ape for her lol

But she was exposed for wearing fake designer stuff lmao?? Koreans be wilding

Her career came to a standstill after that and she hasn't done much since.

Agatha Christie, Hasta Moon & Mercury, Jupiter in Shravana in 1h

aside from the fact that she wrote murder mystery books that were known for misleading the reader (a more fun manifestation of Moon's tendency to manipulate?) she also had some other tendencies:

On the evening of Friday 3 December 1926, Agatha Christie left her home in Sunningdale, Berkshire, got into her car and disappeared into the night. Her disappearance sparked a manhunt involving the police, members of the public and famous figures and was lapped up by the tabloid press.

In the aftermath of Agatha’s disappearance both Archie Christie (her husband) and his mistress Nancy Neale were under suspicion and a huge manhunt was undertaken by thousands of policemen and eager volunteers. A local lake known as the Silent Pool was also dredged in case life had imitated art and Agatha had met the same fate of one of her unfortunate characters. Famous faces also waded in to the mystery with the then Home Secretary William Joynson-Hicks putting pressure on police to find the writer, and fellow mystery writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle seeking the help of a clairvoyant to find Agatha using one of her gloves as a guide.

She was found living at a hotel under the name Theresa Neale (yeah she used the mistresses' last name). She apparently did not recognise her husband when he went to see her at the hotel and they divorced not long after?

The nature of the Moon is ever shifting, watery , always projecting and I think its interesting how Agatha, who found out about the affair pulled that stunt to cope perhaps. I have noticed this with many Moon dominants, if they learn of something depressing, they will immediately distract themselves with something else and pretend that issue is more concerning??? Or they will pull a stunt and redirect everybody's attention there. They are veryyy image conscious, so this could be bc of that. After all, being remembered for her strange disappearance is better than being perceived as the woman he cheated on and left, I guess.

St Vincent- Hasta Sun & Mercury, Shravana Moon

This is kinda innocuous but she lied about being a Kate Bush fan lol??

What I mean by this is that she said two different things on Kate Bush and on how she was introduced. In 2007 she was interviewed with Pitchfork and said "this may sound really silly-- but I just discovered Kate Bush, probably six months ago, and I think she's so great. I know I'm very late to the party here [ laughs ], I know this is old news, but I got a Kate Bush record, and I forget-- I think "The Dreaming" is on it, though I'm spacing on the name of the record. [The Dreaming --Ed.] It has Kate Bush in this totally miraculous ascot, too, on the back [ laughs ]. She just went for it. It's so great. She totally went for it." (http://pitchfork.com/features/guest-lists/6680-st-vincent/)

Now that doesn't sound so bad on it's own, but in 2014 during the Kate Bush documentary she said a completely different story on how she got introduced to Kate Bush around 46:47 and said "I still remember going to the CD World and buying The Sensual World when I was sixteen. And the cover, there’s a rose in front of her mouth that has bloomed, she’s got big wide eyes. And I remember, you know, putting it in the shitty car stereo on the way home, and you know, my life was forever changed.” (https://youtu.be/c4sLwt8mhZs?t=46m49s)

Its the detailll thats giving Moon dominant manipulation lmao

Alfred Nobel- Shravana Moon

 He is known for inventing dynamite as well as having bequeathed his fortune to establish the Nobel Prize. So now no one remembers him for being the horrible man he was lol.

He made millions selling explosives and then decided to manipulate his legacy as that of a philanthropist.

Mahatma Gandhi- Hasta Sun, Ashlesha Moon

In 1903, when Gandhi was in South Africa, he wrote that white people there should be "the predominating race." He also said black people "are troublesome, very dirty and live like animals."

Gandhi championed women in politics. But he was also obsessed with his own celibacy. In his late 70s, before he died at 78, he slept naked with his grandniece when she was in her late teens. He said he wanted to test his willpower to abstain from sex.

Gandhi denied life saving treatment to his wife. She was in bed, extremely sick from pneumonia and he refused to let the doctors administer her with penicillin.

Instead of giving her the medicine, Gandhi decided to fill the room with followers who sang devotional songs, as per the book. The next day, on 22nd February 1944, Kasturba Gandhi died. He said, “’How God has tested my faith! ‘If I had allowed you to give her penicillin, it could not have saved her. But it would have meant bankruptcy of faith on my part… And she passed away in my lap! Could it be better? I am happy beyond measure.”

Going by the rigidness of Gandhi against modern medicine, one may think he had observed the same for himself and other associates. But the case was different. Interestingly, records show that he had undergone repeated medical tests and surgery throughout his life though Kasturba was denied penicillin.

Manu was Gandhi’s grandniece and was used by him as one of the participants in his so-called ‘experiments with celibacy’ where he used to sleep naked with girls and had naked girls bathe him. She was often seen with Gandhi, who used her and Abha, another grandniece, as support while walking.

Manuben’s diaries revealed that Gandhi used to control almost every aspect of her life, including food, education, sleeping, rest schedule, and even the clothes she wore. She even used to sleep in the same bed with him.

Moon dominants twist the truth as and when it suits them. They can be controlling, manipulative liars who parade around as virtuous, kind hearted and generous people. Most people on this list have a good reputation. This is the danger of Moon influence; very few people see the darkness that truly lurks within them.

Obviously this only applies to unevolved Lunar people<3

[dotthings]

Some tea from Richard Speight, Jr. about filming Cas’s testament scene has surfaced from DLC6. [x]

nothing cut from script to screen but they added things, such as Cas having to paint the sigil on the door and leaving the bloody hand print on Dean’s shoulder [my note: wbk about the additions during filming. There's still the matter of the spanish dub because the latam dubbing team felt a verbal I love you from Dean, made sense. And a few other lingering questions that have not actually been resolved and we may never know, but I'll go along. If Rich is happy with what was filmed and got to screen in the US, I'm glad. I love 15.18 either way. Rich's comments also goes to show how collaborative making tv is and how fluid the process can be.]

Rich said the scene wasn’t intended to be about Dean’s reciprocation, it was to give Cas his moment to speak his truth, to speak his love for Dean, and Cas didn’t expect an answer back, he just wanted to be heard, wanting Dean to know. [my note: makes sense to me, and it’s what I’ve thought about Cas pov. Cas pov not being the same as audience pov and what the story might need next and what Dean’s needs are. But for that scene, Cas feels complete. It also very much means the emotional story from Dean's side is not resolved. Dean wasn't given his chance yet, by creative design, perhaps because the only way they could get this greenlit at all is if it was only Cas who got to speak. We'll see what happens next.]

Rich saying because they did many takes of the scene with Dean’s emotional reactions, there are shots where Dean is crying more, or crying less. Editing put together different angles from different takes. [my note: the irony that naysayers are already trying to weaponize this to shut down the idea that anything got cut when per Rich himself, the facts on the ground are that the full range of Jensen’s acting for Dean’s response got reduced. No shade on Rich. But let's not erase or deny what was going on with Jensen's acting and how Jensen gave 110% and what wound up on screen was about 80% of whatever work Jensen did. Dean wept more than we saw, even before Dean was on the dungeon floor sobbing. Jensen’s performance as it stands is beautiful and powerful and full of emotion. It has taken an inordinate amount of hate and erasure, which is 100% cynical concern trolling to deny Dean’s feelings for Cas. More shots of Dean crying openly wouldn’t stop it, there’s no excuse for those responses. What’s there is loud enough. Only the most willfully cynical gaze could deny the love and anguish Dean showed.]

Rich said the parallel for John and Mary’s confession in TW 1x07 to 15x18 is a “coincidence” yet went on to talk about the trope of confessing love in a life or death situation and cited Leia and Han Solo among others [my note: it was also used again by an ep Rich recently directed in another piece of media I won’t say so I don’t spoil it. Also I’m laughing about how it seems he answered this. Total coincidence!! And spn 15.18 is like TW 1x07 is like Han and Leia and love confessions in dire situations is a common (romantic) trope. Pls, if anybody is taking away from this some kind of shutdown on creative recognition of the Destiel implications of it all, I don’t even want to know, I’ve had my fill of poor comprehension skills, poor critical thinking, and poor media literacy, oh my god]

Rich saying he was glad Cas’s words meant a lot to queer fans and that he feels it was important and a “bold” move that Bobo and Misha fought for. <3

So that's confirmation from director now, to add to writer intention, both actors, and an EP who greenlight Bobo's pitch for Cas’s testament as romantic. That is canon. That is a lock.

Cas's testament started out carefully padded into an “open to interpretation” zone. We have watched it be eased out of it and into the open.

I’m pleased it's openly acknowledged for what it is...and what I knew it was when the ep aired. I did expect it would be eventually, and would take some time. I’m glad it's here now.

As always, my appreciation for the work Rich, Bobo, Jensen, Misha did on 15.18 <333

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 18

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: The aftermath...

WC: 2.9k

Within minutes, there are first responders barreling into the house. Luca watches as they load all four of the Schemmentis into the ambulances. They pull out with their sirens blazing. If any of the four are still alive, Luca can’t say he thinks they’ll be alive much longer. He shot all of them point blank with no sort of struggle or fight- a clean shot. There’s almost no way of any sort of survival. This secret was going to die with him.

“Sir, what were you doing here?” one of the officers asks as she squats down to attempt to console the young man.

“I was just coming to visit my aunts and their daughters before they went off to school!” he cries out. They don’t know he’s lying- and his tears are real ones. He can’t believe he just did that. “I- I don’t know who would want to hurt them! Esp-“ he gasps for breath as he grapples with true fact that he hurt those two sweet girls who always run up to him for ‘Unca Luca hugs’ whenever they see him for Sunday family dinners. “Especially Cat and Rosie!”

They manage to coax the rest of the story out of him, and because he’s so clearly devastated, they don’t even suspect him as the one who took down the Schemmenti family.

But Luca knows the truth. As he climbs into his car and away from the scene, he calls Tommy. He wipes away his tears and sniffles away any emotions that are inside of his body. Almost like a switch, Luca flips back into the cold, stone hearted man that the mafia family knows.

“It’s done. Don’t ever tell me to do anything like that again,” he hisses into the phone. “Never again.”

You blink, or try to. Your eyes are heavy and there's a garish white light that makes you close your eyes once more. There's a dull, constant beep to your left. You want to say to whoever to shut it off but you can't bring your mouth to open. The best you get is a pitiful, quiet, groan.

“If you're still in there, Y/N, I suggest waking up a bit faster.” A voice drawls at your right. 

You blink again. This time your eyes open a bit more, enough to see more than just the damned fluorescent light. You at least get a ceiling tile or two before your eyes shut again. The beeping is pissing you off more than the voice had. Though you don't really know why just a voice made you tense. Or why tensing hurt so much. 

With an effort, and a series of blinks against the light of the room, you finally open your eyes completely. Your eyes roll to the left. A monitor is the source of the incessant beeps. It takes your mind a long moment to recognize that it's your pulse the beeps signify. Maybe you don't want that beeping turned off.

Your eyes slowly roll back to the ceiling, and the blinding light. They slide until you're looking to your right. Agent Danik sits in a chair, watching you with an expression you can't decipher. Or maybe you do want the beeping turned off. 

You try to ask what happened but you struggle harder with trying to speak. If getting your eyes open was difficult, speaking feels impossible right now.

Agent Danik leans forward in her chair. Elbows on knees. “You were shot.” She explains, almost softly, without you asking. “You were in critical condition for a while, don't push yourself too much.”

Your brow furrows. Shot? The last thing you remember was your eyes peeking open in the dark of your bedroom. Both your twins climbing into your bed. One of them actually climbed over you to get to Melissa. You can't remember which one. You couldn't possibly have been shot. Your home was safe. 

The memory hits you like a tidal wave. You try to quickly sit up but your body refuses to let you. Instead the pain jolts through your whole body. The beeping increases drastically at the side of your head in time with the racing of your heart. 

Danik is out of her seat, her hands gently on your shoulders to keep you from powering through the pain to get up. As if you could. Adrenaline might get you a ways but the amount of pain pulsing through you is still excruciating even with the pounding of blood through your veins.

“They're alright!” Danik says quickly, looking in your eyes that have been shifting wildly in your panic. She tries to get you to focus on her, to breathe. “Listen to me. Melissa, Cat, and Rosie are still alive, alright? They're alive. You need to breathe and calm down. Stop trying to get up, you're just going to make yourself worse.”

You sink back into the hospital mattress, doing your best to steady you're breathing. When Danik pulls her hands away from your shoulders, you grasp one as quickly as you can. Your eyes focused now, you look at the agent. You try to convey your questions in the look alone. Alive is good but how are they?

“They're still fighting.” Danik answers. In rare form she grips your hand back in a squeeze. You don't know when you found enough connection with the federal agent for there to be sympathy and compassion. Maybe getting shot does that. “You're the first one to wake up so it's hard to know where they're at. But they're alive, okay? They're alive. Considering the situation; that's a miracle itself.”

Your heart rate slows just slightly. They’re alive- but if you’re the first one…

“Congratulations though,” Danik tells you softly. “The four of you are legally dead… and out of the mafia and mob situation.”

You peel your eyes open again to look at her.

“Shaw is in Melissa’s room, and the girls are in the pediatric ICU with two other federal agents. I demanded that if and when they wake up, I am informed immediately so we can start the process of moving the four of you out of the city as quickly as possible.”

You manage to get two words out. “Mel’s room.”

Danik knows exactly what you want, and what you want is to be in the same room as your wife. She nods, eyes as soft as you’ve ever seen them. They wheel your bed and all of the equipment into her room. Shaw is sitting dutifully by Melissa’s side.  You’re close enough to the redhead that you can just barely reach your hand over and take hers in your own. And then you finally let your eyes close again, and you fall back to sleep.

Danik and Shaw glance to each other silently as they watch your heart rate monitors start to sync.

“I’ll give the two of them one thing… they sure do love each other,” Shaw mumbles. “And those girls.”

“I know we’ve been after them for quite some time, but… I hope they make it out of this okay,” Danik confides in her partner softly.

“Agent Danik getting soft,” Shaw teases and bumps the woman’s shoulder.

“And if you let anyone know, you’ll be the next one ending up in ICU care.”

They sit with the two of you in wait until either you have to be wheeled back to your room, Melissa wakes up, or one of the girls does. Neither of them wants to admit that death is still a very real possibility for all four of you though.

Melissa, it turns out, is the next to wake. Hers is a much less chaotic scene than yours. Perhaps aided by the fact that when she opens her eyes it's to see you in the bed next to hers with your hand lightly gripping her own. When she turns her head just enough to see the agents sat in chairs against the wall it takes a few blinks before her voice works. 

Shaw is nearly half out of his chair, uselessly asleep since his partner is still in the room with him. Not exactly required to be watching for any movement or sign of waking from Melissa under that circumstance. Danik sits next to him, tapping away on her phone. Melissa sees you in the tense set of the female agent's shoulders, the way she doesn't doubt the woman is tapping away at work emails. It reminds her how you were always head in your work, with the salon or otherwise. She sometimes had to remind you you were sitting at the dinner table and could relax; stop thinking about work altogether.

“The girls.” Melissa finally gets her voice to work. 

Danik glances up from her phone. “They're fighting. We don't know more yet.” She relays.

“The second it is safe to travel; I want us on the way out of Philly. The four of us.” Melissa demands. “I don't even care where.”

Danik offers a rare smile. “Trust me, Melissa. We want that even more than you do.”

“And Danik?” Your wife calls when the woman looks back down to her phone. She waits until the agent looks back up to her. “Youse better find whoever the hell did this.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” Danik teases lightly because they already have every intention of doing just that.

“‘M serious. I know a guy,” she hisses.

“Still as feisty as ever,” Danik chuckles quietly. “Even after being shot point blank in the chest.”

Melissa’s eyes widen.

“I have to say, your large chest size may have saved your life,” the agent tells her. “Shot in the chest, and both your girls and your wife were guarded with blankets and pillows.”

“The- the girls were shot?” Her breath catches in her throat.

The agents face falls. “Shit. Uh, yeah. They’re not out of the woods quite yet.”

Melissa’s heart rate picks up, and the monitor picks up on that. It’s getting faster and faster, and Danik rests a gentle hand on her shoulders in hopes of calming her like she did you.

“Take a breath,” Danik orders. “Can’t have you going into cardiac arrest now- not after you fought this hard.”

Melissa’s eyes drift to yours. She squeezes your hand softly.

“And… you don’t know any guys no more,” the head states. “You’re legally dead, and so is the rest of your family. No contact with anyone from this life- at least not until La Cosa Nostra falls and all of those who are out to get you are gone one way or another.”

“No one? Not even-“

“Not even your own mother.”

“What if something happens to her?”

“You can’t risk it,” Danik tells her seriously. “You were quite literally on death’s doorstep once. Are you really going to tempt fate again?”

As your wife goes to answer, Danik’s phone rings to life. Shaw jolts awake and falls to the floor at the loud sound.

“Danik.”

“The girls… the one is awake. The other, they fear she isn’t going to make it.”

“I'm on the way.” Danik rushes out, quickly hanging up. “Stay here” She says as she steps over Shaw. “If I see one of the two of them somehow walking around I'm going to blame you, Shaw.” She adds on her way out the door. 

The male agent picks himself up off the floor, claiming his chair once more. He clears his throat at Melissa looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Please don't make me actually fight you to stay in bed.” He finally murmurs.

Melissa laughs despite it being hoarse and weak. “Only ‘cause I feel exactly like you'd imagine from being shot in the chest.” She relents. “You ever been? Shot?”

Shaw nods. “It hurts like a bitch, huh?”

“You could say that again.” Melissa sighs, protected from the knowledge of the twins’ conditions for the moment. Her eyes close again with the decision not to press her luck and try getting up. That and your hand in her own. 

“Hey, Shaw.” Melissa says after a long moment, without opening her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Ask her out already, hey? You stare at her like you're a puppy, y’know.” 

Danik hurries to the pediatric wing of the hospital. Not that she can do anything medically but this is her case, after all. With the two women fairing relatively well, at least for the moment, she figures it might be best to put her attention to their daughters for now.

She checks with the medical staff, verifying what she'd been told before. Then, she slips into another hospital room. She expects to be hearing a commotion of some sort. The begging for parents. But it’s quiet aside from the beeping of the monitors.

“Go sit with Shaw for a bit.” She tells the agent in the room before she pulls a chair up to the bedside. The little girl in the bed is definitely awake. Though an oxygen mask is fitted over her face. Little cheeks are wet with tears though she isn't crying anymore.

“Hey,” she greets softly. “You're Rosie aren't you?” she waits until she sees a little head nod. “I know it's got to be scary waking up somewhere you don't know all alone. And I'm sure you're hurting.” 

Another little nod, very quick this time, forces Danik to pause. She reaches to press the call button, in case the agent in before her hadn't to alert the medical team Rosie is awake. She won't let the little girl suffer any longer than she has to.

“I'm a police officer.” Danik says, simplifying her job for Rosie. “You know what that is, right?” Another small, more timid nod. Danik hesitates. Based on the way their lives were up until about yesterday, she isn't sure what the former Schemmentis taught their kids about law enforcement. 

“Did your moms teach you that police officers help keep you safe?” Another nod has Danik breathing a little easier. “Good. Because you are safe and so are your moms and your sister. I know it's scary but you're safe. I promise.”

Rosie chokes out a sob. “I want Cat.”

Danik mulls over in her head how she should handle this situation. “Cat is in another room, and she’s getting the care that she needs.” The woman only hopes that’s true. “Cat is fighting, just like you are.” She strokes a few stray tears away from her face.

The little girl just nods. Before Danik can say anything else, doctors come flooding into the room. The entire time that they tend to the little girl, Danik holds her hand. She gently runs her thumb over the little girl’s knuckles in hopes of soothing her even slightly.

Rosie is given pain medication, and she slips off to sleep mere minutes later. That leaves Danik to find her way into Cat’s room.

It’s much more solemn. The only sound in the room is the slow, yet steady, beep of the monitor that shows that Cat’s heart is still beating. But it’s slowing… only at forty beats per minute now- an alarmingly slow rate for a child her age.

Danik glances over to the agent who is stationed at the older twin’s bedside. The agent just gives her a slight shake of the head, and Danik can tell it’s wearing on this agent. The worst part of the job is having to watch a child pass… and it’s seeming that that’s where Cat’s fate is heading.

The head of this case shoos the agent out of the room before settling into the chair next to Cat’s bedside. She takes the little girl’s hand in her own, much like she had her sister. And then… for the first time in a long time, she bows her head and she prays. She prays for this little girl’s recovery. Cat shouldn't have to pay the price for what her mothers were involved in. Cat should have a long and prosperous life ahead of her- days frolicking through parks and giggling on the swings, days of cuddling with her mothers and feeling all of the love in the world. Cat should be given a second chance to live an innocent life.

It doesn’t quite register to the federal agent, but she’s crying as she prays. Tears slowly trickle down her face, and she doesn’t quite notice them until there’s a wet patch on her dark blue pants. After another long moment, the agent wipes her face with the hand not grasping Cat's smaller one. She stays with her head bent until she feels a bit more in control. She leans enough to kiss a little forehead. 

“That's from your moms and your sister.” Danik whispers, gently brushing back wisps of stray hairs. “They're fighting for you, like you are from them. You're safe now, Cat. Nothing like this will ever happen again. You just have to get better and then you and your family are going somewhere safe. Together.”

The agent stays at Cat’s bedside for a long time, unwilling to leave her alone. She doesn't know that she’ll pull through but she hopes she will. To see all those days she is entitled to. Especially now that there isn't a significant danger intrinsically tied to her family's lives.