#losing your girlfriend violently has effects on you

[redemptioninchaos]

"...I still ain't ova her..."

[yourbookcouldbegayer]

when is it considered wrong to have a queer person die in the story? most of my characters are a part of the lgbt community, I'm still deciding what's going to happen to them in the story but a lot of people online say that you shouldn't kill off your gay characters. I was wondering if there any exceptions to this though?

We have a tag with a bit of Bury Your Gays stuff here, but honestly, this is a question we get a lot, and--

The problem with killing your characters isn't killing them, per se. It's refrigerating them.

An unfortunately nonzero percentage of stories with gay characters tend to follow a specific trend:

Gay character is introduced.

Protagonists reap the benefits of gay character. (Media creator reaps the benefits of gay character.)

Gay character no longer serves their aesthetic purpose.

Gay character is killed off.

Death of gay character traumatizes main character and pushes them toward an action.

Gay people are more than just plot devices to be introduced and later discarded when no longer useful, and the fact that is happens most often in the form of killing them also just...isn't great. We already face a disproportionate amount of harm in reality--why would any LGBT person who's reading a new character they relate to want to see that person suddenly murdered for seemingly no reason?

This trope is extremely similar to the "Women in Refrigerators" trope, coined by Gail Simone in 1999, a comics author who realized that a lot of the female characters in comics tended to end up dead.

...Violently. Raped, murdered, cut into pieces, sliced and diced and shoved into a refrigerator, these women served as mere plot devices to motivate a (male) protagonist.

Bury Your Gays is very, very similar, in that it treats gay people just as disposably. Worse, it often happens just after the character in question has had their first kiss/come out/other important moments in exploring their own identity, which undermines that development and, frankly, just doesn't fucking feel good to any gay reader.

But none of this is to say that you shouldn't kill your characters, even if they're gay. I've killed off a lot of queer characters in my time. The difference is that those deaths were actually well-written, significant and properly explored, part of the story in a way that a lot of "disposable" gay characters weren't.

My protagonists felt long-term, agonizing grief at losing their friend/girlfriend/etc. It affected the way they thought and acted about relationships for the rest of their lives. More, the death of that character was natural, part of the story in a way that felt reasonable and realistic. It wasn't unnecessary violence for the sake of shock value, or disposing of a no-longer-useful character; these were people who lived lives for as long as they could and affected the world around them.

All of this is basically to say: Kill any character you want. But think about why you're doing it. What narrative purpose does it serve? If they left another way, would it achieve the same effect? Is it a real, true tragedy, or just death for the sake of drama?

(Although death for the sake of drama isn't necessarily a bad thing either, plenty of stories and genres exist that way (COUGH COUGH: SHAKESPEARE) but when it's only the gay characters experiencing that particular phenomenon--well. That's not so fun, is it?)

[celaenaeiln]

it’s a me a 12 am anon . my girlfriend and i had a discussion abt how odd it is that the fandom views and stereotypes the batfam like

dick is romanian and has more fem related traits and somehow it translates into him being a dumb womanizer or just an annoying mother hen?

jason grew up in the streets, i think its popular to hc him as hispanic? idk but jts odd how ppl do that and also think hes an angry heartless brute

cass gets that “badass asian dragon lady” archetype (tbh im not sure what it is but my gf is passionate abt it so like im confident she’s right)

tim?? somehow ive seen wasian hcs for him but the boy is autistic right? somehow a stereotype i see for him is like “weird and socially awkward but super smart” which . i dont think thats right .

steph is adhd right? i think? also falls into the dumb “waffles r my only personality trait” stereotype and uts just a tiny bit odd dyou see it?

damian (and by extension talia) gets done dirty a lot i think i dont .yeah

nyways sorry its been a while <3 would llve to hear ur thoughts n opinions

hey again!!

Batfam fanon is...not great. And it's things like this that remind me why I kinda avoided this fandom until I couldn't.

Dick

Dick is Romani and is canonically more feminized but the dumb womanizer thing is really getting on my nerves. First of all, he's one of the smartest characters, ever. The comforting thing about Dick is that he never loses.

The reason I love reading Dick Grayson runs is because I can read about his thought process, the way he analyzes, how he single-handedly solves crime like it's nothing.

Batman (1940) Issue #703

Secondly he's not a womanizer. He literally has a mental break down at the thought of dating or even kissing someone he isn't in love with. He's never, ever, ever going to sleep with someone he doesn't have atleast some level of romantic attraction to because he feels it's inherently wrong and canonically frowns upon that behavior when others do it.

The mother hen thing - I gotta admit is kinda accurate. He really loves his family and friends and takes care of them really well. He always makes time to sit and listen to all of them with all their problems and helps them solve it so that's fine.

Jason

The hispanic thing - what the actual heck. Literally why? Jason's "hispanic" fanon background along with Tim's "asian" background comes from a wider problem where society has become disillusioned by the same ethnicity for all characters and wants for diversity and representation in the media. I actually do believe in greater representation but not here. When people make Jason hispanic due to his street backstory, they're attempting to diversify canonically white characters but accidentally reinforcing and perpetrating damaging stereotypes about particular ethnicities. Because his background has drugs, poverty, and crime - you want Jason to be Latino? Can you possibly make things worse? And Jason being an angry heartless brute. Not even adding to the stereotype, Jason was not like that. Jason originally started off as troubled but excited kid. He was happy about fighting criminals and having a home and getting food. As he grew older, the more criminals he fought, he came to a realization that people weren't going to change which is when he started getting more violent and angry with them. He didn't do it because he was some sort of psychopath, it's because he cared a lot about the effects these criminals were having on innocent people. Because he can relate. His anger has nothing to do with his supposed "hispanic" background which is still - ?!?!? Why is this even a thing.

Cass

I don't really have anything to say about Cass being that archetype because tbh I kinda think of her like that too. She's exceptionally good at fighting, she's chinese, and she's the strong and silent type. I'd love to hear more about what your gf thinks about it though.

Tim

Again about Tim being Asian. No where near as damaging as Jason being classified Hispanic but also why? He's asian because he's smart? Because he's good at computers? C'mon the stereotype is boring. Isn't it exciting when you watch a movie or show and the Indian guy isn't an IT specialist? Or when the Chinese girl has neon highlights and loves partying? Or when the Japanese girl is rocking combat boots? The best way to appreciate diversity is actually letting ethnic characters have diverse personalities and talents. On a side note, there is not nearly enough celebration of already canonically diverse characters like Roy's navajo heritage or Jessica Cruz's latina one. Isn't it ironic how we're making racialized characters based on stereotypes because we believe there should be more diversity but ignoring canonically ethnic ones. Literally noone talks about Cass connecting to her Chinese side or the fact that she has dyslexia but we're readily jumping on the Asian Tim Drake train.

Autistic Tim Drake I can see where they're coming from because Tim sometimes has a hard time connecting to people. Like he sometimes misses social cues. And to be fair this theory actually has more credibility than some other ones because I don't know if I'd pass that off as awkwardness. But it also may be due to lack of human interaction. Tim's parents left him alone for long periods of time which he gleefully used to track robin and batman at night. I don't have a problem with this one because Tim may actually be inadvertently written as autistic at times so I guess it wouldn't be that far off canon.

Steph

People with ADHD are typically impulsive, don't focus on one thing for too long, and have a lot of energy which is very much like Steph.

Batgirl (2009) Issue #10

But mostly she just has a sense of humor. Which - like the case with Dick - because of course people can't be multifaceted, fandom generally takes for stupidity.

She's not dumb, she's just fun. I guess the waffle thing is because of human beings' pathological need to classify everything into categories and fanon likes to run with dumb blonde for Stephanie which really ticks me off. People can not be a gloomy avenger and still be smart. She solves her crimes and has a laugh while doing it and still pulling off the -

Batgirl (2009) Issue #12

Damian

Where do I start. What is even happening to him? Not in fandom necessarily but canon. What is DC doing???

[akataiii]

Trouble in paradise (An idea I got while I was washing the dishes)

It was a peaceful day at Heights Alliance. Everyone in class 1-A was full of new life now that exams had concluded, and they had some much-needed downtime. 

That is– it was peaceful until…

“DENKI KAMINARI!”

Denki bolts up from where he was lounging on the floor of Sero’s room, eyes widening upon realizing that he was completely and utterly screwed.

“I’m in trouble,” is all he says, staring at the door to Sero’s room, expecting it to be thrown open at any given moment.

“Dude,” Sero whispers, looking over at his friend in concern from his spot on the bed. “What did you do?”

“I may or may not have…” Denki starts, voice trailing off into a jumbled mutter as he looks guiltily to the floor.

“Speak up,” Mina calls from Denki’s right, now also sounding mildly concerned. 

“I may or may not have gone into Y/N’s room!” He admits, and at the exact moment that the words leave his lips, Sero’s door is thrown open with a violent bang, effectively shutting the entire group up. In the doorway stands Y/N, Denki’s (usually) loving girlfriend, although she doesn’t look very loving at the moment.

“I’m so glad you’re taking responsibility for your actions,” Y/N says, voice steady and firm. A telltale sign that she was very, very angry. 

“Nice knowing you, bud,” Sero says solemnly, watching as the shitshow that is Y/N starts to approach Denki. 

The blonde has already sprung to his feet, holding his hands up in surrender as he’s backed up against the wall. 

“Hi Y/N. My love, my darling dearest,” Denki squeaks, yelping when his back hits the wall.

“Don’t darling me, Kaminari,” Y/N grits out, bringing her fist up threateningly in front of the blonde’s face. 

He lets out a nervous chuckle, shooting a pleading look over the girl’s shoulder at his group of friends, who were all staring back at him with identical looks of sympathy. They weren’t going to lift a finger to help him. Traitors.

“Oh my god!” Denki yells with the most dramatic gasp the world has ever heard, pointing a finger behind Y/N. “Is that Mister Aizawa in a Hawaiian skirt?”

Much to Denki’s immense relief, Y/N spins her head around to look at where he was pointing, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip away and bolt out the door and down the hallway.

He can hear the distant yell of Y/N behind him, shouting something along the lines of ‘So dead, Denki Kaminari,’ but honestly, he’s too busy running to catch the exact words.

He foregoes the elevator, knowing the stairs would be much more in his favor right about now. So, he bounds down the stairs leading from the fifth floor, skipping over some steps, and nearly losing an ankle in the process. 

He makes it to the fourth floor with his bones intact, taking a quick moment to catch his breath before he’s forced to sprint across the hall for the next set of stairs. Honestly, he needs to have a serious word with Principal Nezu, because in what part of the brilliant little mouse brain did he think it was a good idea to have the stairs alternating sides?

“Where are you, you little shit!?” Comes Y/N/’s voice again, eerily close to where Denki was currently standing. With a stangled cry, he jumps back into motion and starts his trek across the hall, using it like his own personal track field.

In his pursuit to the finish line, he passes Bakugou’s door, which swings open to reveal a very irritated-looking blonde and a concerned red head by his side. 

"Pikachu, what in the actual fuck are you–” Bakugou scolds, about to start on one of his usual tirades, but Denki cuts him off.

“Hey Kacchan. Hey Kiri. Sorry, can’t chat. Gotta run!” He rushes out in his passing, picking up his pace when he spots Y/N at the foot of the stairs behind him. 

He’s already halfway down the stairs to the third floor when he hears, “Get back here, you human sparkplug!” from Y/N.

Somewhere, far out of Denki’s earshot range, Bakugou and Kirishima are standing stunned in Bakugou’s doorway, blinking dumbly at the sight they just witnessed. 

“You think we should step in?” Kirishima asks with his brows furrowed in concern.

“Nah,” Bakugou answers, slowly swinging his door shut. “Best to leave it this time ‘round.”

Denki doesn’t make it to the second floor, instead being tackled to the ground by Y/N halfway on his road to escape. 

“You better have a very good explanation, or else you’ll be looking like Midoriya when I’m done with you,” Y/N threatens, pinning Denki down with a glare and a fist raised and buzzing with her quirk’s energy.

Denki goes to cover his face, rushing out an, “I’m so sorry!” in the hope that he’ll be able to see the light of another day.

“Enough apologizing. Explain,” Y/N grits out, lowering her fist closer to Denki’s hidden face and tightening her grip on the front of his shirt.

“I was just curious,” Denki cries, shrinking away from Y/N’s enclosing fist.

A few tense moments pass in which Denki prays to any deity that’s able to hear his pleas, before Y/N eventually lets out a heavy sigh and deactivates her quirk, letting the energy fizzle out as she sits back on her heels.

"Look, Denki,” she starts, and the blonde looks up at her, slowly lowering his hands from his face. “It’s not that I don’t trust you– because I do.”

Denki shoots her a grateful smile, which is easily returned, albeit a bit strained. Y/N averts her gaze from Denki’s, cradling her hands in her lap and picking at her fingers.

“I’m just worried about you, is all,” she admits. “I don’t want you to go into my room, because it contains a lot of equipment that’s especially sensitive to electricity. I don’t want you to accidentally get hurt.”

Understanding dawns on Denki, and he suddenly feels very guilty for causing Y/N so much worry. He reaches a hand up to cup her cheek and turn her head so she’s looking at him, and her eyes are filled with so much care and concern for him, causing Denki’s heart to swell with affection. Despite her frequent anger fits, she really is a loving girlfriend, and Denki couldn’t be happier to call her his.

“I promise I’ll stay out of there from on,” he assures, shooting her a comforting smile and stroking a thumb across her cheek. Y/N leans into the touch, nuzzling her cheek against his palm and placing a featherlight kiss there. 

“Sorry for tackling you,” Y/N eventually apologizes, pulling Denki to his feet.

“No worries,” he says, flashing her another grin. “Not like I have any more brain cells to lose.”

“You’re not an idiot, Denks,” she chides as they start their walk back to Sero’s room, intent on spending the rest of the afternoon in the peaceful atmosphere. 

. . .

Okay, Denki can’t help but tease her on her angry outburst at least a little. So, with a playful nudge against Y/N’s shoulder, he asks, “Have you been hanging around Bakugou recently?” 

“HUH!?”

[twstfanblog]

Twist OC Fankid Info 2

Ashengrotto Twins

**Charysa Ashengrotto-Crewel**

Age: 17 (Feb 22, Eldest twin)

School: Sophmore at NCR. Member of the Tennis Club and Co-Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Height: 5'5"

Hair: Mid-back length lilac hair, normally in twin tails

Eyes: Dark blue

Likes: 'Plushies', romance novels, making colored sand art, poetry, word puzzles, accessories of all kinds

Dislikes: 'Stuffed Animals', being broken up with, rumors (That she didn't start), horror movies, losing

Pets?: A bloom of Jellyfish. She and Scylar cried until Azul bought sea real estate to keep them safe.

Fav Food: Spicy Seafood Alfredo

Who's their Best Friend?: Scylar ♡

Dating/Crush?: A revolving door of shitty boyfriends and a very sweet secret admirer

Part one of the fast-talking con-artist Ashengrotto twins. They will talk you into a verbal contract to do their homework for months. But you can pay them to drop it.

Charysa is a hopeless romantic who misses every red flag when she falls in love. Luckily, her family is so intense about finances that Azul scares off every last one that makes it to meeting him. (If you plan on dating either of Azul's direct daughters, you better have excellent credit, a hand balanced checkbook, and be prepared to set up your 401K. Legal documentation is mandatory). If Azul doesn't scare them off, Scylar will.

She has a secret admirer who lifts her spirit with thoughtful gifts after every failed relationship and is lowkey keeping her love of romance alive.

Pretty laidback but is weirdly intense about her tennis record. The only person she's lost to in a match is Finley and she's keeping it that way. (Tennis ball coming at you going Mach 14)

Kind of a crybaby, but has actually broken people's bones for making fun of her siblings. (She snapped one child's finger in kindergarten for saying her twin looked gross)

Sadly, gets periods along with Yuu and Malgona.

Unique Magic: Siren Song. No one is really sure if it is a unique spell since it's a shared spell between the twins. When they both sing in harmony, it makes for a hypnotic effect that briefly brings people under their command. Not used very often as they don't have much control over whoever hears their song since they need to sing the commands in perfect harmony.

Any time they HAVE used it, it was clearly premeditated and they were grounded afterwards.

**Scylar Ashengrotto-Crewel**

Age: 17 (Feb 22, Youngest twin)

School: Sophmore at NCR. Member of the NRC Choir and Co-Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Height: 5'5"

Hair: Mid-back length lilac hair, normally in a ponytail

Eyes: Dark blue

Likes: 'Stuffed Animals', concerts, social media, economics, fashion, gaudy jewelry, singing.

Dislikes: 'Plushies', frogs, her sister getting a new boyfriend, spicy food, Men.

Pets?: A bloom of jellyfish. She and Charysa insist that Azul call them by their names properly.

Fav Food: Seafood Alfredo

Who's their Best Friend?: Charysa ♡

Dating/Crush?: Looking for a cute girlfriend

Distinguished lesbian, threw a fit when she was picked by the mirror as an NRC scholarship student when she was set to go to an all-girls school instead. While more fem-presenting people have been accepted and invited to attend NRC in the recent years, Scylar is still mad because no one has caught her eye yet and is CONVINCED if she had gone to an all-girls school she'd be engaged by now.

The more violent of the twins but also the most logical. She is the one planning on how to jump someone at a later date if anyone DARES fuck over she and her sister. The twins do not fight fair and will ambush you together.

She is fully aware of who her sister's secret admirer is and is TRYING to get him to confess so she can stop dealing with her sister's terrible boyfriends. He keeps refusing and claiming things are best the way they are. Scylar just assumes he doesn't have the proper legal documents he needs to meet Azul.

The 'tired gay' of the family, though JJ disagrees.

Unique Magic: Siren Song. No one is really sure if it is a unique spell since it's a shared spell between the twins. When they both sing in harmony, it makes for a hypnotic effect that briefly brings people under their command. Not used very often as they don't have much control over whoever hears their song since they need to sing the commands in perfect harmony.

She's more talented than her sister in the singing department, but the skill seems to split evenly during the spell. So, Scylar works hard to improve her singing to make their spell stronger.

And that's the twins! Onto the Eldest Vipers!

[auntbibby]

i just really Really hate the ideology that "good things should never be easy or free, and if they are, theyre fake". it's like people dont want anything to improve or get measurably better, or for old obstacles in life to be removed becuz progress is EEEEVILLLL.

people look down on ozempic & wegovy becuz it can make losing weight become easier and that pisses off the people who go to the gym 3 times a day and drink raw eggs. plastic surgery pisses off similar ppl for similar reasons. laws getting passed that improve working conditions & wages for minimum wage jobs pisses off older ppl who had a terrible time at work when they were a teenager becuz "if i had to do it u should have to do it too".

i understand what youre saying about fat liberation. that people are naturally different weights, and we shouldnt look down on ppl for being big. that fat can be sexy etc.

however, the antipsychotic i HAVE to take (or else i will become so irritable i will have multiple violent meltdowns daily) has "weight gain" as a side effect. for the first dozen years of my life i was very very thin. since then, being on various antipsychotics & other psychiatric medications, well..... im currently 260+ pounds.

i was actually 298 pounds a year and a half ago but i went for lots of walks and changed my diet and the weight hasnt come back much. and dont say "see? you worked hard!" becuz i first tried like 3 different exercise regimens and they were all too hard. it wasnt till i scaled it back to "taking a walk or 2 every day IF IM UP TO IT" that i finally started losing weight.

......

maybe for a lot of things, increasingly the farther back in history u go, painful hard work & being rewarded were intrinsically linked. but thats not always the case. sometimes good things can happen withOUT painful hard work. sometimes painful hard work leads to detriment.

as for risuchan's points....

i get waaaaay overstimulated if i have to play a hard videogame level over & over & over again and then finally beat it. it causes me to need to decompress or ill possibly have a violent meltdown. i MUCH prefer beating a level on the first try. i try not to play videogames very much.

i literally cannot remember a time i had a really bad day and then felt pleasure when a friend or family member reassured me. the closest ive come to that is venting to my longdistance girlfriend online and then she sends me heart emojis & hug emojis. usually when ive had a bad day i isolate myself becuz i know if somebody starts talking to me, espECIALLY trying to comfort me, im worried i might have a violent meltdown.

when somebody comes back into my life after being gone, i think "ohh.... nice!" for one second and then i immediatelly think "damn, now i have to re-plan my schedule so im set up properly for a visit with this person.... lets see.... this week in april i dont have an outing planned.... if i have a bath on wednesday night then i can skip the bath on thursday which means i can have a bath on friday night which sets me up for when mom comes over on saturday and then i can skip the bath on sunday and have a bath on monday night and.... hmmm i need to phone mom to see if my outings THAT week are on tuesday & thursday or monday wednesday & friday...." it's pretty stressfull actually. i have so much anxiety about planning events and being late and stuff like that, i had to tell my brother to "visit me less" once. he lives in a different province.

i will admit crying is a good way to end my violent meltdowns. but id much rather my violent meltdowns didnt occur becuz i end up injuring myself and breaking stuff.

anyways all i think is..... i dont wanna reject a free lunch becuz its "on a silver platter". good is good & bad is bad. nothing is "too good to be true". thats just a bad thing disguised as a good thing dont let it spoil your perception of true good things.

edit: im srry if im comin across as mean. im srry.

if u had 3 wishes, would 1 of ur wishes be "everybody gets transformed into The Closest Thing To Their Ideal Body That Isnt Inherently Harmful"?

I feel like handing someone their ideal self on a silver platter would kind of invalidate all of their struggles up to that point. There’s a story about this somewhere around here lemme go grab it

[joong-tori]

𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖨𝖿 𝖨 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐??

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong x Transmasc!reader

Pronouns: he/him

Genres: fluff, angst, comedy, social media au

CW: strong language, implied smut, brief mentions of misgendering and dysphoria, sexual infidelity, emotional infidelity, slut shaming, will add more as the story goes on

a/n: an exclamation mark in parentheses (!) means there’s potentially triggering content in the chapter

*dates and times are not important unless said so in the chapter*

Summary: You, absolutely infatuated with your boss, grow closer with him after a charity gala, where he finds his girlfriend in a compromising position with a friend of his.

teaser

yeosang’s sugar babies | rich bitches | pt2

ch.1- glucose child

ch.2- blink once if you need help

ch.3- who tf is kang yujin?(!)

ch.4- oh fuck he’s hot

ch.5- sounds fake but ok

ch.6- well fire him of course

ch.7- the ned fulmer effect

ch.8- interesting

ch.9- thank you jiyeon

ch. 10- the y/n simp club

ch. 11- i’m going to kiss this man

ch. 12- angry thoughts, head violently

ch. 13- don’t get murdered

ch. 14- you secretary hopping now?

ch. 15- you’re embarrassing me on twt.com

ch. 16- get out of my mentions

ch. 17- thank you mr. kim

ch. 18- the audacity this woman has

ch. 19- babygirl allegations

ch. 20- clown to clown communication

ch. 21- power moves

ch. 22- i don’t like you right now (!)

ch. 23- i think i might’ve fucked up

ch. 24- just figure your shit out

ch. 25- lightweight headass

ch. 26- my betsies r her

ch. 27- whore derogatory

ch. 28- we’re each other’s date

ch. 29- he’s a loud ass bottom

ch. 30- he’s just a little guy

ch. 31- i’m plotting murder

ch. 32- park jimin’s internet

ch. 33- have fun

ch. 34- despicable me

ch. 35- well maybe he shouldn’t be

ch. 36- tf is going on

ch. 37- stinky best friend stealer

ch. 38- i have no words

ch. 39- top 10 anime betrayals

ch. 40- third wheeling

ch. 41- entitled rats

ch. 42- it’s go time

ch. 43- don’t disrespect wanda

ch. 44- thank you mr. l/n

ch. 45- icy

ch. 46- what.

ch. 47- too friendly

ch. 48- they’re secretaries

ch. 49- that’s kinky

ch. 50- what the fuck(!)

ch. 51- sensing disturbances in the force

ch. 52- seonghwa no

ch. 53- oh shit it’s live!

ch. 54- pr nightmare

ch. 55- you’re so fucking done (!)

ch. 56- mcfreaking losing it (!)

ch. 57- chat, is this about me?

ch. 58- tba

ch. 59- tba

[taechaos]

can u do more of jealous jk drabbles?👉👈

this one kinda cute but theres smut 😃

The best time of the day is when the sun is just over the horizon, taking on a blue and orange hue in the sky, not shining bright enough to blind or give a heat stroke to the crowd in the amusement park. Just enough illumination to not have to rely on the lights provided from the ferris wheel, neon titles above the rides and games you stand before.

You can't contain your squeal and shake your interlocked hands with Jungkook while bouncing on your feet, the three companies you came with much more casual about the occasion. "Where should we go first?!"

Your boyfriend shrugs, Soyeon glances at Taehyung who makes the decision: "Rollercoaster." He has a crazed grin on his face, the sparkle and mischief in his eyes matching yours. Both of you are extremely fond of these thrillers.

"A rollercoaster...? I'll wait for you guys," Soyeon sheepishly holds her nape with a smile. You coo at her.

Jungkook scoffs arrogantly, "Are you afraid too, baby? You can hold onto my arm."

You blow raspberries and clutch onto your friend's arm, "I love rollercoasters." You and Soyeon gaze into each other's eyes as you say, "Don't worry. It'll be fun if you come with me."

She blushes, Taehyung and Jungkook watching the interaction with quirked brows. How boy-friendly of you.

The seats were decided. You all bought the tickets, and it's your turn to hop on the carts. Girls sit in front of the boys, and Soyeon hesitantly places her hand on top of yours on the railing. Taehyung wraps his hands around Jungkook's arm, who is slouching in his seat with a frown.

"I'm so scared, Jungkookie," Taehyung's teeth chatter, "w-will you protect me?"

All the carts are secured as the ride slowly moves forward, slightly creaking as Jungkook groans, "Let go of my fucking arm!" Despite his relentless shaking, his best friend only holds on tighter.

"Why? Your girlfriend is having a sexual awakening with her buddy girl, why can't we?!"

Jungkook gapes at him, brows meeting in perplexity before he looks at the row across. The two of you have your heads leaning on each other, and no, that was the romantic scene he was supposed to have with you, not Taehyung who snuggles into him in whimsical fear.

"She's straight," he counters weakly, not even caring about his numbing arm from the sight before him.

The carts reach the peak of the tracks, a sense of adrenaline stirring in everyone's stomach and you squeeze Soyeon's hand comfortingly seconds before Taehyung's scream torments the whole population's ears. Needless to say, Jungkook had it the worst.

—————

Your boyfriend winces with a finger in his left ear as he follows the group with Taehyung next to him, behind you and Soyeon.

"Remind me to never go on a rollercoaster with you," he seethes intimidatingly, emitting a snort from the guilty.

"Ooh, bumper cars!" Taehyung childishly points at the competitive game. Jungkook smiles wickedly, "I'm going to give you a fucking concussi–"

"Boys against girls!" Soyeon chirps, and you gasp at the amazing idea.

"Yes! That'd be so fun!"

Upon seeing Jungkook's incredulous face, Taehyung bursts out in laugher and clutches his stomach, tearing up when he instantly goes in denial mode.

Which didn't help, because Soyeon stole you for herself once more and he is stuck with the dumbest person he's ever met once more.

"Let's beat those bitches."

"That's my girlfriend, Tae."

Those words were thrown out the window the moment the game began, because he became ruthless. Even Taehyung was getting nauseous from how violently the car was bumping against yours, the one Soyeon claimed shotgun in, rocking your bodies back and forth. It's revenge for not giving him the attention he rightfully deserves, and leaving him with who was supposed to be a fourth wheel.

No mercy, you must suffer.

When you all got off the ride, Taehyung couldn't stop stumbling all over the place.

"I'm going to throw up," he groans and pinches Jungkook's shirt.

"That settles it: I won," he shrugs triumphantly. Soyeon is quick to bite back, "You almost killed us."

"Oh no," you jump to his defence with a giggle, "he's just very competitive."

Your boyfriend smiles at your first acknowledgement of his existence, relieved as he throws an arm around you. "I'm not about to lose to a bunch of–"

"Please don't finish that sentence," you smile at him; sickly sweet with your warning.

He forces a chuckle, "–a bunch of strong, independent women."

—————

"You ever seen lesbian porn, Jungkook?" Taehyung asks as he licks up a fat stripe on his ice cream. Jungkook doesn't bother responding. "It usually begins with one girl being all shy and reluctant until the sexual tension becomes too much. Say they're studying, gossipping, whatever, the normal stuff. Then... one of them makes the first move, and the other eventually gets into it." He glances at his friend to measure his reaction; nonchalant and barely listening. "Oh, but I have a boyfriend, oh this is wrong, oh friends don't do this," he imitates in a higher pitch. "Then they fuck."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he asks, flabbergasted and annoyed. He's holding onto your ice cream after you left to the bathroom with your friend, Taehyung protecting hers and licking the melted drops to keep the cone clean. What Soyeon doesn't know won't hurt her; the flavor is too good for him to waste.

"I'm just saying man, you never know with these girls," his cheeks puff out as he suppresses a laugh. Jungkook's paranoia is easy to mess with, and he knows he shouldn't do it so often, but it's just so fun. A snort slips.

"They've been roommates for two years, I'm sure if she was bisexual, she'd know by now," he spits defensively.

"Oh my God, do you think they got drunk and kiss–"

"We're back!" you announce and take your cone from Jungkook's hand, your friend doing the same.

"Welcome back, baby," he stands up to hug you, effectively pulling you a few steps away from Soyeon with a glare. You relish in it with joy, mushing your face against his chest.

"What should we go on next?" Taehyung casually cuts into your display of affection.

"The ferris wheel, maybe? Oh, Soyeon, you have–" you point at the corner of your lip, and she mirrors the opposite side, prompting you to reach out a hand and wipe off the stain with your thumb. Jungkook blinks in astonishment. Taehyung's eyes widen to saucers as he watches his soul leave his body. His words are getting to him.

Your hand is snatched away in a flash, and you're dragged away back to the stalls where he corners you, answering your unspoken question: "Hey, just wanted to privately ask you how your date is going with Soy milk." His voice drips with sarcasm, the attitude catching you off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I feel like I'm third wheeling in front of my own girlfriend," he scowls, and your heart drops. "You haven't done a single thing with me today. I thought we came here to spend time with each other, yet we've done anything but. Be honest, are you..." he gulps and averts his gaze, "is there something going on...?"

"Jungkook," you startle and place a hand on his chest, "it's nothing like that. Of course I wanted to spend time with you, but Soyeon's been trying really hard to mend our friendship so I thought I would reciprocate. I didn't want things to be awkward between us, but I didn't realize I was neglecting you. I'm really sorry, love."

Your explanation endears him, shoulders slouching in relief just before he murmurs, "But in lesbian porn..."

"Oh my God," you exclaim in disbelief with a laugh, "I just hung out with her."

"You know I get needy!" he frowns with flushed cheeks. "That bitch wouldn't let go of you for one goddamned second, if I didn't know better I would've dragged you away a lot sooner."

You coo at him and squeeze his cheeks before he shakes you off grumpily. "I was going to go on the ferris wheel to make it up to you."

"Oh wow," he rolls his eyes, "can't believe you found the time to think about me."

"So jealous," you tease.

"Shut up," he pushes your forehead with his finger, "before I try to mend my friendship with Soy milk as well."

"She is not your friend," you glare at him with hooded eyes.

"So jealous."

—————

"The ride is five minutes long," Jungkook blurts out of thin air the moment you step into the moving cabin. "And we're going to stop at the top." At your gasp, he continues as he takes a seat, "Yeah, I did that movie cliché and paid extra."

"Jungkook," you coo with doe eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, "that's so romantic."

"Hey, don't get all cute. You said you were going to make it up to me." He tilts your chin, "How far are you willing to go?"

His question doesn't throw you off, and you chuckle, "Whatever you want."

"Yeah? Your time is running out," he looks past the window to see how high up you are. Four meters off the ground, give or take. "You think you can make me cum before we get off?"

Oh. "Better choose fast–"

You fondle with the buckle of his belt and make quick work of your hands to pull down his black jeans that hug his thighs. You lick your lips for moisture, and after what some experiences have thought you, you know to spit in your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

"Damn, you didn't come here to play," he releases a humored breath as he watches you get him off. As if the limited time isn't bad enough, you have to get him erect in remarkable speed as well. He shifts slightly with a deep sigh, and when his cock starts to grow, you get on your knees before him and take the head of his length in your mouth. He sucks his teeth and weaves his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes. Thirteen meters off the ground.

Mindful of your pace, you ease his length inside by taking him inch by inch, swirling your tongue the way he likes it and bobbing your head. His grip on your hair tightens as a low grunt resounds in the cabin. "You're doing so well," he looks down at you with half hooded eyes, lustful in their gaze, "you want to make it up to me that bad? Want to please me? Gosh," he sighs.

You deepthroat him with your hand covering what you can't reach until he thrusts into your mouth. You gag in reflex, and he uses your hair as leverage to do the rest for you. It's sloppy now, and saliva drools from the corner of your mouth with welling tears. You can only hope he reaches climax in time. Twenty two feet off the ground.

When his thrusts begin to slow down, you take it as your cue to pull away and jerk him off, your tongue taking care of the tip as his breaths grow more and more shallow. You assume he's holding back moans as to not attract any attention to your cabin. Thirty one meters. You make it a challenge for yourself to make him cum by the timr you reach the peak.

"Ah, go faster," he furrows his brows, face twisting in pleasure as he leans back on his seat. Your scalp starts to sting from his strong grasp.

Your hand listens, and you suck harder on the head while teasing the slit, and he gasps louder each passing second. He's panting while forty three feet off the ground, and a few moments later, his hips lift off the seat as he groans, his release on your tongue that you swallow. It comes in stutters, so you keep your mouth on him until you've swallowed every drop to avoid getting banned from the amusement park. Calling it simply taboo is an underestimatement.

"Shit, shit," he breathlessly says and thrusts into your mouth two last times before pulling out, a string of saliva still attached to your mouth. The ferris wheel stops. "You were fucking perfect, baby," he murmurs and his head goes limp, eyes dazed from the climax. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile despite the ache in your jaw.

"Thank you," you squeak and sit next to him. His head rolls to you. "Is my face okay?"

"Oh, you wore lipstick," he laughs quietly and uses the hem of his matching black shirt to clean up the smudge, his stomach on display from the action. You sit still as he fixes up your appearance, brushing your disheveled hair with his fingers, and just to be extra, he adjusts your collar, making you giggle and roll your eyes. "Like nothing happened. I'll eat you out at my dorm to return the favor."

You blush in surprise at his words, but he dismisses it by looking at the view. The sun has set, and all the lights sparkle from under you and the midnight black sky. It's beautiful. You admire it with him.

"I can't believe I paid extra for this. There's not even fireworks."

BONUS:

Soyeon and Taehyung sit across from each other without averting their gaze from the sky, effectively ignoring the presence of one another until he breaks the silence. "This is so romantic."

"Yeah."

"If we were a couple, this would be the perfect moment to kiss."

"Um... I guess," she shrugs off his unusual flirting.

"You want to be a couple for this ride?" he suggests and looks at her with wiggling brows.

She doesn't return the stare, softly speaking, "No, I think I'd rather jump off."

He chuckles under his breath, "Jungkook is going to have a field day when he finds out you're lesbian."

"Huh?"

"I said why don't you jump on this dick."

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

[pynkhues]

How much redemption do you think is possible for the characters in succession? I think someone like Greg is still young enough and new enough to the game that he might snap out of it, and obviously the golden trio are very very tentatively taking the first steps out of Logan's influence. But how about someone like Logan? Is he too old and steeped in his cycle of abuse to ever get out of it, or could he have an Ebenezer Scrooge awakening after everyone he loves abandons him? Or would that make him even harder? I LIVE FOR YOUR META THANK YOU

Thank you, anon! And oh, that's such an interesting question.

I always have a million complicated feelings about the idea of redemption generally, in particular who gets to make the call that someone's been redeemed? And how do we make these decisions when someone's done or been complicit in terrible things? I don't think that onerous should fall on any one person's shoulders really, and particularly not a victim of that person, but then that poses the question how do we decide as a society what redemption looks like, and what it means?

All that said, I definitely believe in rehabilitation and the concept that anyone can change in real and meaningful ways through support services, therapy and a desire to evolve.

(This got long and a bit rambly, haha, so I'm popping it under a cut).

In a very broad way of speaking, I'm a prison abolitionist, and I do think it's important for us socially to view any system of punishment as one that aims, before anything else, to bring people back to society and community, not separate them further from it, which is what our current system does in many parts of the world. To write anyone off is, I think, dehumanising in what should be a very human process, and has a significant trickle down effect where many people are able to justify systemic issues around race, class and certain backgrounds by treating crime as a problem when it's frequently just a symptom of deeper social problems.

(Of course, one of the difficult things about prison abolition and this concept of bringing people back to community is that it can potentially put others at risk when those people have a history of violent and sexual crimes, and full disclaimer, I have no answers for that, but I don't know. I remain an optimistic realist, and I say that as someone who's life has been impacted by violent crimes.)

This is all a bit of a roundabout way of saying that yes, I think on paper (and the emphasis here is on paper, haha) any of these characters are capable of meaningful change, if not redemption. I've talked about it a bit on here before, but I think particularly with a character like Logan who himself is shaped by abandonment and abuse, he could change. With him losing most of the genuine relationships in his life as of 3.09, that feels like it could be an awakening as much as it could be an even further shutdown/shut out.

If he did, would that ever make up for the years of trauma and abuse he's inflicted on his children? His wife, ex-wives and girlfriends? Staff? To say nothing of the crimes he's been complicit in?

No, I don't think so. He still did what he did, and the suffering he inflicted is very real, but he could one day (again, on paper, haha), step into a future where he made the choice to be a better man, and it would be up to his children, the women in his life, and his staff to decide what that meant to them.

That choice though is a big part of it, and it's fascinating to me that Greg and Logan are the two characters you mention in your ask, because I think they're in a lot of ways the characters who present the most interesting moral quandry, but for very different reasons.

In a lot of ways, I actually think Tom's the character who's most similar to Logan. They're both good at what they do, they latch onto staff they feel they can trust, use and abuse in equal measure (Greg for Tom, Gerri and Frank for Logan), they both endured abuse, however differently (Tom from Shiv, Logan from Noah), they both married up as a form of class mobility (Tom married Shiv, Logan married Caroline), and they both in turn abused the people they loved (Tom with Shiv, and Logan his children). It speaks to the ruthless survivalism in both of them, but also the sort of ways they internalise the external, and become hard off the back of it.

They both do terrible, terrible things, but those terrible things don't come out of a vacuum. They survived the jaws of a beast and became a beast themselves.

Greg on the other hand, I think, is one of the worst characters on the show. (An unpopular opinion!) There's certainly a bit of a survivor in Greg, especially across his first weeks in New York when he was living in poverty, but the reality is that that was always going to be a brief tour for him. Greg has always had options and opportunity, but Kendall was right in 3.07 – Greg is a parasite. He's up close and personal to the abuse and the moral carnage and the trauma inflicted upon trauma inflicted upon trauma, and he sits eating cake at his great aunt's wedding the day after his second cousin's tried to commit suicide – the cousin he's been closest to for the last six months – and says 'what am I going to do with a soul anyway?'

I think the thing with all of these characters is that, like anyone, they are their choices, and increasingly, they're making informed choices. Tom knows what he's doing when he's siding with his wife's abuser, just like Logan knows what he's doing when he dials Caroline in to tell their children he thinks they're worthless, just like Greg knows what he's doing when he chooses to step into moral bankruptcy with Tom.

These characters are always capable of making the other choice, the good choice, but they don't, and, increasingly, they're exerting power by removing the choice for others. Tom took away Shiv's choice by telling Logan behind her back about the coup, Logan took away Kendall's choice when he didn't let him cash out, and Greg even took away Comfrey and the Contessa's choice by not telling either of them about his feelings or each other.

I think intent and accountabilty is integral to stepping forwards and into rehabilitation and community, and it's really, really fascinating to me that Kendall, Roman and Shiv each had moments of that in the finale while Logan, Greg and Tom each decided to shirk it. In that sense, yeah, I think it's always possible for them to make the choice towards a type of redemption, but whether or not any of them will choose that? Well, I think that's increasingly unlikely.

[illyaana]

Hey... Could you maybe... Could you make a oneshot consisting of Bakugou's older sibling reader (I'd prefer it to be gender neutral with a more masculine style, however you prefer) x Midnight? 🥺🥺 I love her so much and Horikoshi did her dirty. You can do whatever oneshot that you want/comes to mind, I just want something fluffy. Thank you UwU

Udk how much I squealed getting this as my first ask!

(also whoever you are you made my day/week/month (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ)

I agree, Horikoshi did her dirty. She had some moments but that was IT. I tried my best, hope you like it!!

(it's more of a you being a hero and being in a relationship with Nemuri rather than a one-shot surrounding your relationship, but there's a bunch of fluffy stuff at the end, so gehe-)

Tags: Midnight x Bakugo's Older Sibling! Reader, Binaural, Fluff, Minor Cursing, Mentions of Blood

Your Quirk: Liquid Maker - You conjure a liquid in your hands (smtg like sweat) when you want to and it can become anything. Name it, you got it hun <3

Synopsis: You are a hero (obviously gehe-) and you were catching some villains. Suddenly a huge explosion came from the middle of Musutafu and you headed straight to the crime scene.

Word Count: 2163

SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ◍ Requesting Guidelines ◍ Ask here!

You woke up to the sweet smell of smoke coming from the living room. Groaning, you got off your comfortable bed and raced to the living room to stop Bakugo from his daily antics.

"You really got to stop doing this in the morning, Katsuki," you told the younger male, "It's literally," you looked at the clock, "8 am in the morning and my half-asleep self could've gotten hurt stopping you from breaking all hell loose."

Katsuki scoffed while looking at you. "Why aren't you at work yet? As you said, it's already 8 am."

"Later shift today! I only start at around 10 am."

"Wow, aren't you lucky?" Katsuki said as he walked towards the stove, "I'm making pancakes, but I won't make even one for you until you go bathe. You look disgusting."

"Okay, okay." You say, raising your hands and rushing to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After bathing, you head back into your room and began to wear your skin-tight hero suit.

You groaned slightly as you slowly pulled the form-fitting clothing up your body.

"I swear to God this isn't getting easier."

"You are literally a fatass, so I'm not surprised," you heard Katsuki scream from the kitchen, "I pity Midnight. The fact she needs to be around a literal piece of garbage who doesn't even look good."

"At least I have someone, unlike your childish ass."

"I am a child," he retorted.

You sigh as you open your room door and head back to the kitchen.

"One day, you're going to wish you were nicer to the people around you."

"Maybe," Katsuki said while passing you a plate with a stack of three pancakes, "...but I am pretty sure you aren't going to be one of them, judging by how much you baby me."

"But you are a child! Didn't you say so a few minutes ago?" you say as you pinch his cheeks, earning a growl from him, "Woah, calm down dog."

"Shut up and eat, fatass."

You chuckle at his words and proceed with the order given by your younger brother.

You loved getting later shifts on Fridays. These were the quieter days in the Bakugo household. Mom usually took her extra days off on Fridays like today, extending her weekend. Dad left for work earlier on Fridays but he'd always buy some spicy thing for Katsuki and you to have in the morning. Something to wish us a good day, I presume. And to top it all off, you and Katsuki would have these "sibling" moments, which mostly consisted of you annoying him to the point he'd lash out at you.

"You're a really good cook, Katsuki. These pancakes keep getting better!" you compliment the 10-year old.

And there it was: you entertainment of the day - Katsuki trying to say thank you but failing miserably thanks to his own pride as a "man".

"T-than- that's obvious, isn't it?" he ends, a blush present on his face, "I make pancakes every single time you have a later shift because you like it. If I'm getting better, that means you've been getting more later shifts. That means you've been slacking off, you stupid Pro Hero!"

"...how did you even get to that idea?"

After calming down a raging Katsuki, you put on your gear and head to the entrance of the house.

"Have a good day at school, Katsuki. Don't do anything you'd regret," you playfully warn him before leaving the house.

The streets of Musutafu were usually peaceful. Ever since All Might became the Symbol of Peace, the crime rates have dropped extensively. Yet, there are always one or two little naughty kids that wanted to play with their quirks - or in simpler terms, people who act like kids and try to do minor crimes using their quirks.

Using the liquid formed in your hands, you aimed at the legs of the two running males in black and wrap their legs together. Within a second, the liquid instantly formed into a rope and bounded their legs together, forcing them to fall face down.

"You both gave me a good morning run, thanks for that!" You say as you place two handcuffs around their wrists, "But you should seriously think about another hobby besides stealing."

From afar, you heard a loud boom coming from the middle of Musutafu.

In an instant, you formed another bunch of rope and tied the two males around their waist and pushed them to the corner of a building.

"Run away and you'll get more than just jail time," you say as you rush off to the scene.

The minute you reached the scene, your eyes widened in fear.

Endeavor was the reason behind the whole catastrophe here?

From behind, you felt a pair of soft hands touch your shoulder.

"I know what it looks like, but trust me it isn't," Nemuri started, "A villain that has a mind control quirk is controlling Endeavor from a distance. I've been trying to locate them, but no luck."

You smiled, looking at your girlfriend.

"You managed to get all of that in a few seconds?" you ask, amazed, "I got a good one, didn't I?"

You felt Midnight pinch you from behind.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, now isn't the time to flirt with me," the female hero said.

You nod, washing away the playful smile.

"You get all the civilians out of here and contact the heroes through the network. I'll try to get him down and knock him out," you say. Nemuri nodded and began to gather the civilians away from the scene.

"Now," you turn to face the 2nd best hero, "How does one take down someone much, much more stronger than you?"

You slowly gathered your liquid in your palm, allowing the fluid to grow in volume.

"You defeating Endeavor would be a sight to behold, not going to lie here," the villain said through Endeavor, "But I am willing to test out that theory."

You lunged at the fire user while creating a fire-resistant rope to tie him down in your hand. In the other, you managed to conjure a Haladie sword - a sword you've trained with ever since your days in UA.

Using the sword, you managed to propel yourself above Endeavor and cut his back. Using the momentum you built, you used both your feet to hit the back of Endeavor's knees, forcing him to kneel.

You immediately stabbed his dominant hand, preventing him from reacting quickly.

With a snap, the Haladie sword transformed back into its liquid state and wrapped around his left hand.

"I was never planning on defeating Endeavor but merely securing him, dear villain of mine," you say as you transformed the liquid around his left hand into a quick-cancelling glove, "It’s one point for Y/N, right now. No point for little Mindy over here."

You began to build up more liquid in your hands to hopefully form another Haladie sword or at least a blade.

The controlled Endeavor began to get up slowly and turn to face you.

"I didn't peg you to be a dumb one, Y/N."

You felt a blade pierce through your stomach.

A civilian sobbed as they pressed the blade deeper into your body, your blood dripping onto their office coat.

"I can't believe you let your guard down so easily. It was your fault to assume I could only control one person at a time, little hero," the controlled civilian said midst crying.

"And that will be your downfall," Endeavor said as small flames began to grow from the palm of his right hand.

The knife that once was in your body was violently ripped out of your body by the controlled civilian and then used to kill themself by piercing their heart.

Tears fell as you saw the now lifeless male bleed to death right beside you.

"Oh don't worry," Endeavor said, "I'll make sure you also go with him, too. That small wound won't kill you, I know that."

You saw Midnight running towards you along with Eraserhead and All Might.

"You know, I always pictured you crying over a dead Nemuri Kayama whilst bleeding from your stomach, have you?"

Your eyes widened at the statement.

There was no way you were going to let that villain kill her.

"Eraser," you screamed, "Erase his quirk and get Midnight out of here."

'Please don't fail on my now, buddy,' you told to your body as you ran towards Endeavor, 'You still have to live for the people you love.'

You quickly formed another Haladie sword and vaulted from the floor towards Endeavor.

You managed to grab the hand aimed at Midnight and pushed it towards you. Using the remainder fluid you had, you formed another quirk-cancelling glove on Endeavor's right hand.

You could hear a sigh of relief from both Nemuri and Shouta, making you smile.

From afar, you heard All Might saying that he caught the villain that was controlling both the civilian and Endeavor. You were shocked when you heard the number one hero's laugh of victory.

You were amazed at the skill the male had.

A villain that took two people to search for was found by him in a few minutes.

Soon, the wound formed by the dead civilian began to take effect as your vision became hazy.

Before you could lose consciousness, you felt Nemuri's hands wrap around you, catching you before you fell.

When you woke up, you heard the sound of hospital monitors beeping. You felt a small hand gripping around your left hand.

"Why did you let them stab you, idiot," you heard your younger brother say, "Don't go teaching me a lesson with your death - it won't work."

You chuckled, looking at the younger blonde. "If this doesn't work on you, I don't know what will."

Katsuki began to sob on your blanket while gripping on the four fingers his small fingers could grip.

"It's okay, Kacchan," you saw a green-haired boy patting his back, "He is here and he is alive. That is all that matters, okay?"

You smiled, looking at the greenette.

"What's your name?" you ask him.

"I'm Izuku Midoriya! I'm friends with Kacchan," he says with a beaming smile.

"Kacchan, huh?" you tease, "You are really close friends with Kacchan, aren't you?"

Before Izuku could reply, you felt Katsuki pinch your leg.

"I don't even know why I care for you, you fatass."

"Oh, how you wound me," you feign sadness as the ten-year-olds left your room.

You smile at the sight of the greenette consoling your brother as they walk out of the room.

You look up to the ceiling, sighing.

"You are a bit too young to be sighing so loudly, Y/N," Nemuri said as she slowly opened the door, "I saw what you did there. Don't tease Katsuki so often, he is quite mature for his age, you know?"

You smile, looking at Nemuri with her hands on her waist.

"He's growing too fast. I need small moments like this to remember how innocent he is before he becomes the raging little twit I know he'll become."

"Woah, Woah, Woah," she says, laughing, " 'Raging little twit'? You really are a bad brother."

You begin laughing, "I have to be the playful one or else the Bakugo's would be a family of three brooding people and one peaceful man."

"True."

Your eyes widen.

"You aren't supposed to agree, you know?"

"My mother taught me not to lie," she says, smiling.

"Well, white lies aren't bad."

She sits beside you and holds your hand. Tears slowly escape her eyes as she looks at you.

"You are okay, right?" She says, sniffling.

You slowly wipe off her tears and put the palm of your hand on her cheek.

"I'm fine, Nemuri."

You slowly move towards her and place a kiss on her forehead.

You pat the empty side of your bed, "Want to join me?"

She slowly nods as she walks to the empty side of the bed and gets in. Her legs immediately wrap around your left leg as she places her head against your chest. Her left hand extends around your waist and hugs you.

"What are you, a koala?" you joke.

"What can I say? You are a comfy tree."

"Well, I am glad to be of service."

Soon, Nemuri goes to sleep. Soft snores can be heard from her as she rubs her head against your chest.

'The koala became a cat,' you thought to yourself.

Your right-hand goes to the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

"I love you so much, Nemuri Kayama. I always will. If I had to, I would gladly lay my life down so that you'd be safe. I know you're asleep and probably can't hear this, but you are the most important thing in my life - don't forget that," you tell her sleeping figure as you fall asleep.

[spookysmujer]

Cielo, O. Diaz

Summary: Despite Oscar’s protest of a date night, he complies and adds in some TLC to end the night.

warnings: fluff stuff, semi-angst, freak s h e t 👅 (18+)

word count: 1.6K

requested by anon!

A/N: Thank you for requesting this! It’s a such a hawt idea of Oscar whining but making it up you, we love to see it. Wow, I am loving the daily interaction with you all, thank you babes!! A reminder: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED. Just because requests are closed, don’t hesitate to chat with me. Please consider following me, heart/comment/reblog my content and turn on the notifs for when I post something new!

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n​ @princesstiffxoxo​ @fairygardenss​ @firebenderwolf​ @spookysnena​ @mbaku-babygirl​ @chellybear98​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @i-just-wanna-live-gc​ @roury66​ @kkim120​ @lillict​ (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

(Gif belongs to @merakiaes​  🌟)

Oscar loves to keep busy, always on the go and someplace different nearly everyday but there are some days where he’d rather do nothing but lounge at home all day long. And though not much people know, he’s big NBA fan. He enjoys watching the games, enjoying a cold beer.

He’s sat on the couch, nursing the 4th beer of the night nearly an hour into the game. His team is leading and everything is chill, nothing could ruin it. But of course, he does get his attention pulled from the TV when he sees you through his peripheral pass through the hallway 3 times.

“Mami, the fuck are you going back and forth for?” He calls out as he takes a long sip from the bottle, not taking his attention away from the game.

You are focused on getting your eyelash on snug when you hear him call out. The band sticking to your lash line before you take a breath in. “Getting ready!”

“For what?” Oscar asks.

The quietness in the bathroom is eerie as you pause to listen if he follows that question with him joking but nothing but a clap sounds from the next room over. You roll you eyes as you finish painting your face on, “What do you mean for what? It’s date night! You told me we could go out to dinner last week so we are going out!”

Crap. Oscar closes his eyes for a brief moment, forgetting all about his promise to wine and dine you. But to be fair, you never gave him the heads up when exactly it’d be. He definitely didn’t want to miss out on this game.

You continue to get ready, your face nicely caked on and hair up, pushed back. And tonight you can finally wear the new jeans you got and it’s definitely working in your advantage. With one final look in the mirror, you gather things and head to the living room, expecting to see a dressed and waiting Oscar.

But he’s still in the basketball shorts from this morning. An audible sigh escapes your lips as you cross your arms. He looks over at you, “Really? You’re lucky you take 5 minutes to get ready and that you’re bald. Vamos, babe.”

“Mami, there’s one more quarter left. I can’t just bounce now.” His hands points towards the TV. The crowd cheering as a basket is made causing Oscar to jump up with excitement. “Oscar, we have reservations in 20 minutes!”

He huffs and sits back down, putting up a fight like a child, “Reschedule, we’ll go tomorrow. Com’n, bebita. You knew there was a game tonight, I told you about it last week.”

“Yeah well, I told you about dinner last week too. And I thought that this would be more important than the stupid game where they fly balls back and forth! Forget it!” You throw your hands up in defeat. The frustration clouding your mind instantly. Once in the bedroom, you kick off your heels and crawl on the bed to cry.

If there is one thing that you are really good at, it’s being a devoted girlfriend. You have stood beside your boyfriend even when things went south between him and the Santos. You’d go everywhere with him and do everything with him. And vice versa. The two of you inseparable. So naturally, hearing him saying no to something you want to do is heart wrenching.

Oscar continues watching the game but can’t seem to focus as he thinks back on your face and the sound of your voice a few minutes ago. He rubs his face and stands, heading into the bathroom to get a quick shower.

You’re too busy scrolling on your phone to have noticed Oscar entering the room. When you hear him clear his throat, you look to see him dressed in his nice plaid, button down shirt and the rest of the usual cholo attire. You try to resist the smile creeping on your face but you can’t.

“Come on, we going or what?”

The look on your face brings a smile to Oscar’s as you jump up to quickly fix your tear streamed face. After the time it took you to get ready again, you two make it to the fancy restaurant just in time. You’re eager to see Oscar’s reaction to the place since he has a liking for cooking. He’s definitely intrigued and glad he decided to go.

A night of fine wine and dine with Oscar is all you wanted tonight and you got it. You two ordered a bunch of foods you love as well as different things that peaked your interest. Enjoyed some lovely wine, him as included. By the end of dinner, you can’t tell who is crying more: your jeans or Oscar’s wallet.

The two of you make it home, both feeling the sleepiness seeping into your bones. As you place the take out bag of leftovers in the fridge, you feel Oscar closely behind you.

You stand upright and Oscar brings his hands to your waist, as he places kisses on your exposed shoulder. His hands explore your body as you lean back into him, how he has any energy for this is beyond you. 

“Mhm, you enjoy tonight?” He asks you as he kisses right below your ear. It sends shivers down your spine, you inching away from him when he bites your earlobe. You can only hum in response.

You turn on your heel and clash your lips against his. On your tiptoes to reach his face and squeezing it between both your hands. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip, awaiting permission. Being ever the gentleman tonight. Once you open your mouth more, your tongues are clashing against each other. 

Oscar pushes you towards the counter and lifts you onto it. Something about your man being able to lift you with ease only makes you feel more aroused. Your hands fall below you and  you start to work his belt. The clinking sound of the metal making you more excited. Once you get it undone, you palm him to through his shorts and feel the hardness.

His hand meets yours and pushes it back, “Let me take of you tonight.”

You blush and wring your arms around his neck. Oscar lifts you again, walking the two of you to the bedroom. Both of you quickly discarding your clothes and wrapping up in each other. He is kissing on your neck and down your chest, stopping to take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue circles your nipple and he looks up at you, seeing you in immense pleasure, eyes closed and head tilted back.

Oscar does the same to your other breast before kissing down to your navel. He is peppering kissing on your hip bones and closer to your sex. He brings your legs over his shoulder when he is face to face with your throbbing heat. One thing he loves most when being intimate with you is eating you out. The way you can squirm under him is addicting.

“Hm, come on. Give it to me. Eat me out, papi,”

You rest on foot on his shoulder and push his face down into your cunt with the other. He places a kiss on your clit and you suck in a breath. The shock it leaves you in is exhilarating. Then his tongue licks a swipe through your slit, once and then twice and then continuously.

He is holding your hips down with both his hands as you being to squirm. “Hmmm.” Oscar hums whichs sends vibration into your cunt and you arch your back off the bed. 

You are a writhing mess as his tongue swirls around your sensitive, swollen bud inching you closer and closer to a release. Oscar moves a hand below him to stroke his dick, the sight of your losing yourself to his mouth has him ready to bust. You are now slightly bucking your hips forward. He takes his mouth off you to breath. “Hm, keep going, please. I’m gonna cum, make me cum with your mouth.”

Oscar spits on your clit and begins to violently attack it by moving his tongue around it then adding his lips and sucking. Your cunt dripping with arousal as Oscar dips his tongue into your aching entrance and tongue fucking you. He quickly moves back to the assault on your clit as he feels your body begins to shudder.

Your hands hold his head down at the intensity hits you all at once. Oscar relentless by not stopping even as your body convulses under him.

“Fuck, fuuuuuck. Okay, okay, okay papi, stop!” You push his head off you with a laugh as you scoot up. He smiles at you with his mouth and chin drenched. He crawls on top your body and takes your lips with his, tasting yourself and not minding at all.

A sigh escapes your lips as Oscar sits up and you see the mess he made from eating you out as well as cum from himself, “You came by just eating me out? You were barely touching yourself.”

“You got that effect on me. I hope this makes up for today. I shouldn’t have waited until you were crying to agree on dinner. Won’t happen again, forgive me?” He asks you. You sit up and reach for his neck to pull him down on you,

He lets out a breathy laugh as he now lays on you, “Ask me after you fill me up.”

[hercleverboy]

time

spencer reid x reader 

summary ↠ spencer learns the truth about why the reader left the team so suddenly during his post-prison showdown with cat adams.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ cancer, main character death, crying, pleading someone not to die, please do not read if these are triggering for you.

word count ↠ 3.6k

“Death is peaceful, easy. Life is harder.”

Breast cancer had a history in Y/N’s family. Her grandmother had died from it, and it seemingly skipped her mothers generation. Y/N was not so lucky.

When the doctor told her, she stared blankly she’d at the wall. He was talking at her but she only seemed to pick up on parts of what he was saying.

“Breast cancer”, “stage 4”, “has unfortunately spread to other parts of your body,” “eight months if you’re lucky”

Lucky?

If she’s lucky?

The doctor sent her on her way after discussing some treatments with her. He told her what the side effects of those treatments were going to be, and she’d shaken her head. The doctor looked shocked, but Y/N had just given him a small smile. If she was going to die, she was going to spend her time doing everything she wanted to, not being poked and prodded and given treatments that were unlikely to work anyway.

Initially, she didn’t tell anyone at the BAU. She certainly didn’t tell Spencer, who she’d been crushing on for years at that point. They were best friends, they had been since she started all those years ago, and they were always there for one another. She was always too nervous to tell him how she felt, but it’s funny how finding out your days are numbered will encourage you to do things you never thought you’d have the courage to. So one night at the end of the work day, when the bullpen was empty apart from her and the resident genius, she threw caution to the wind and walked right up to his desk.

He grinned at her as she approached. “Hey, Y/N. Did you want to grab something to eat before you head home? There’s that new Chinese place a few streets over-“ He was interrupted by her saying three words he never thought she’d say to him.

“I love you.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“You what?” He manages to get out, his mind was spinning.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’m sorry, you just have to know.”

“Y/N I don’t know what to say I-“ He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right ones. Truthfully, he was in love with her too. Though his own insecurities and stupid thoughts always got in the way. Y/N took his lack of response to mean that he didn’t feel the same, and so she took a deep breath and smiled at him reassuringly. Before he could tell her that he was very sure he loved her too, she was gone, the bullpen’s doors closing gently behind her.

Y/N felt the weight lifted off her shoulders. Despite her thinking Spencer didn’t return her affection, she still felt the sweetest relief imaginable. Because fuck it, if she was going to die she’d be damned If she did so without telling Spencer Reid how much she loved him.

And now he knew.

It brought her a sense of peace.

She told Hotch, but that’s only because she had to give him a real reason as to why she was leaving, after he heard the lie she’d fed the team.

“I’ve been offered a job in the orginised crime unit, I just can’t turn it down.”

“Y/N, can I speak with you?” He’d asked after she’d announced to the team that she was leaving. He led her to his office, closing the door behind her. “I’ll get straight to the point. There is no new job with the orginised crime unit, I would’ve been notified if you’d been offered a new position. What’s going on?”

She couldn’t lie to him, she knew that much. So she took a deep breath and spoke. “I’m terminally ill, sir. I haven’t got long left. I would like to live what is left of my life.” Hotch was understating. He didn’t show it, always very good at masking his emotions, but his heart was broken. He’d even hugged her, telling her what a pleasure it was to work alongside her, how the world would suffer greatly from the loss of her kind heart and unmatched intelligence.

On her last shift, which was a paperwork day thankfully, the team got together and threw her a little in-office going away party. Y/N felt guilty about not telling her friends, her family, the real reason she was leaving but they shouldn’t have to bear that burden, they shouldn’t have to carry around the guilt. And she didn’t want their pity or worry either. Hotch had been surprised at how soon she’d wanted to leave the BAU after telling him of her condition, but she told him it was because she wanted the team to remember her how she was. Strong and confident. She didn’t want to them to see her so weak and vulnerable, how she knew this disease would reduce her to.

JJ found out that day, unintentionally. After laughing and eating some cake with the team, Y/N felt incredibly nauseous (she found she was struggling to keep food down these days), so she excused herself to the bathroom, and was violently sick in the toilet of one of the stalls. JJ had followed her in, noticing how she’d barely touched her cake earlier and that she looked awfully pale as well.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” She asked, opening up the stall door behind Y/N, who was panting over the toilet bowl.

“I’m fine, JJ. I promise.” She smiled weakly but JJ wasn’t buying it. The two women had become best friends over their time in the bureau, almost like sisters.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” JJ joked as Y/N stood up on shaky legs.

“No, I’m not pregnant Jayje.” Y/N couldn’t look her best friend in the eye, tears filling her eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’ll be okay, what’s wrong?” JJ’s motherly tone made Y/N wanted to laugh but she couldn’t force one out if she tried. Y/N’s lack of response frightened JJ.

“Y/N, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong, please.” She begged.

“I’m sick, JJ.”

It didn’t take the blonde long to figure out that she didn’t mean a common cold. Tears filled JJ’s eyes.

“I haven’t got a lot of time Jayje.” Y/N cried, and JJ began to sob, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.

“Well there are treatments right? Chemotherapy or something? Something has to work.” JJ was begging, praying that there was something. Her heart shattered all over again when Y/N shook her head.

“I won’t spend the rest of my time hooked up to countless machines receiving treatments that may or may not work. I don’t want to fight this. I’m already so tired, I just want to go peacefully when the time comes. Please?”

JJ just cried harder. She understood Y/N had already made peace with her fate.

After calming down slightly, Y/N pulled back, holding JJ by her shoulders. “You can’t tell anyone. Only you and Hotch know. I won’t burden anyone else with this, okay?”

“Y/N, this isn’t a burden. You’re sick. The team deserve to know, they deserve their turn to say goodbye.” JJ tried to convince her.

“Please. You can’t say a thing. I know they deserve that but god I can’t have them all pitying me. Garcia will buy me gift baskets to compensate, Derek won’t know what to do with himself so he’ll make jokes, and Spencer, god Spence will go into overdrive trying to fix me. I just want to live out my days peacefully, please let me have that Jayje.” She begged, and the blonde nodded.

“I understand, Y/N. But Spence.. he’s one of your best friends. He has been for years now. I know you told him you love him and he didn’t say it back but.. this- this will kill him.” She whispered the last part and Y/N looked away as she fought to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

“I know. And I’m sorry if it’s selfish but I’m dying, I think I’m allowed to be a little selfish.” Her attempt at a joke was met with a stern look from JJ.

5 months after Y/N left the BAU, Spencer ended up in trouble in Mexico, and before anyone could do anything he was awaiting trial in a prison cell. He had lot of time to think over the three months spent behind bars, staring at blank walls, fighting to survive long enough for the team to prove his innocence. Every night he slept in his bed he thought of Y/N.

How much he missed his best friend.

How much he loved her still.

He realised how stupid he’d been to let her get away. He regretted not going after her that day in the bullpen and promising her he felt the same way she did. He promised himself the moment he got out he would tell her how he felt, and they could make up for the time they’d lost. He yearned to see her, and If prison taught him anything, it was that time was precious. And he wanted to spend all of his time with her.

When JJ turned up to the prison one day, he’d never felt a relief quite like it.

“We’re taking you home.”

He was relieved that now he could focus on finding his mother, and once that was done he could prioritise Y/N. He would tell her how he felt, how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, no time to waste. He could tell her the words he’d thought a thousands times of the last three months.

I love you. So much.

He just had to win one final time, play Cat Adams stupid game and then everything he’d ever wanted would be his. He could live the life he’d dreamed of when he was in prison, Y/N by his side.

“Even if you are pregnant the baby’s not mine.” Spencer was mortified that she was really trying to persuade him that her baby was his, let alone that she was even pregnant in the first place.

Cat clicked her tongue. “Except for the part where it is.”

“That’s preposterous, you’ve been in prison. And besides we’ve never-“

“So have you, and I know we never...” She trailed off, that smirk on her lips. “Ask me how I did it.”

Spencer was really losing his patience. He didn’t care for, nor did he want to play Cat’s little game anymore.

“Come on, ask me.”

“How did you do it?”

“I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time.” Cat smiled at the look of confusion on Spencer’s face. “I told her to pretend to be Maeve.”

That hurt Spencer more than it should’ve. 4 years since the tragic death of his girlfriend, and the wounds were still fresh as anything. Of course Cat knew about Maeve.

“But perhaps it would’ve worked better if I’d told her to pretend to be Y/N, the best friend that you’ve always loved but never told her. It’s a shame that you might never get the chance now.” Cat snarled.

“What do you mean I’ll never get the chance?”

“Oh my god. You don’t know, do you?” Cat teased, and Spencer gripped the edge of the table so harshly his knuckles turned white.

“Know what, Cat?”

“Dear little Y/N has terminal cancer. She was given around eight months to live, from what I know. That would mean-“ She theatrically looked at Spencer’s watch that sat on her wrist. “Any day now, if my timings right.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” Cat’s head cocked to the side. This wasn’t part of her original plan, but any opportunity to mess with Spencer even more was not to be missed.

“Yes you are, that what you do.” Spencer seethed, the words like venom on his tongue.

“I’m not. Just ask blondie in there.” Cat pointed to the double sided mirror. “She’ll tell you. It is her that Y/N chose to confide in, after all.” She teased.

Spencer shot up from table with loud bang and stalked out the room, slamming open the door to where a gobsmacked JJ stood.

“Is it true?” Spencer asked, his tone cold and unforgiving.

“Spence..”

“JJ! I asked if it was true?” He shouted, slamming his hand on the wall next to them. JJ flinched, and for the first time in their friendship JJ was afraid of the man in front of her.

“Yes.” Her voice was small.

He whipped out his phone, calling Garcia. “Garcia I need you to look up Y/N Y/L/N’s medical records.”

“Our Y/N Y/L/N? Why?” The chipper woman replied, confused.

“Just please, Garcia!” Spencer shouted desperately.

“Okay okay, I’m looking and everything seems fine- oh wait- what’s this?” Garcia murmured to herself as she clicked through the files, her eyes widening and tears forming in them as she gasped. “She’s sick? W-why didn’t she tell us? Oh my god.”

“She’s alive, right? Oh god please tell me she’s alive?” Spencer begged.

“She’s alive, but she was admitted to the hospital 2 weeks ago after she collapsed. They’re keeping her in the hospital, just trying to make her comfortable- oh god I can’t read anymore.” Garcia was sobbing down the line and JJ had a hand clasped over her mouth to keep her own sobs at bay.

Spencer sobbed too, for the first time since he went to prison. Everything seemed to hit him at once.

After a moment, JJ’s trembling voice reached his ears. “Spence, I know this is a lot to take in but if you want to find out where your mother is you’ve got to carry on.”

He’s knew she was right, but he just glared at her coldly. “How long have you known?”

“Since she left.” JJ cried. “I’m so sorry, but she begged me not to tell you, or anyone else for that matter. How could I deny her that?”

Spencer understood it wasn’t JJ’s fault but he was still so angry. The anger burned within him like a wildfire and he didn’t posses the restraint to put it out. “There was no new job in the organised crime unit, was there?”

“No.”

“Fuck!” Spencer shouted, pushing some files that sat on the table onto the floor with a loud crash as he cried.

“Spence-“ JJ attempted to comfort him but he was downright inconsolable.

“You know she told me she loved me. Before she left.” Spencer spoke quickly and fiercely, though the tears trembling down his cheeks told a different story. He finally looked JJ in the eye, and she nodded. “I didn’t get to tell her I love her but I do JJ, god I do and now I’m gonna lose her.” He let out a heartbroken cry and JJ felt so guilty.

“Spence you have to go back in there and win her little game. Save your mother, and then you can worry about Y/N. Okay?” JJ tried, and this time it seemed the words sunk into him.

Spencer hated that she was right. So with a sniffle, he wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeves of his blazer, before taking a deep breath and returning to the room with Cat, one even more determined to win.

After winning the battle against Cat, Spencer escorted his mother back to the sanitarium. As soon as she was safe and settled, Spencer was immediately on the phone with Garcia.

“Garcia, which hospital is Y/N at?”

Once he got the address he was there in minutes.

He sped up to the front desk, panting as he spoke. “Hi, I’m here to see Y/N Y/L/N.”

The receptionist nodded, typing away on her computer. Spencer stood as he waited to hear what room she was in, tapping his foot impatiently on the white floorboards. A doctor who had been standing near the desk stepped towards him, and he looked him as she approached. “Sorry sir, Did you say you’re here to see Y/N Y/L/N?”

Spencer turned to her, his voice desperate. He prayed he wasn’t too late. “Yes, yes.”

The doctor looked at him with a small smile. She looked him up and down, coming to a conclusion. “Are you Dr Spencer Reid?”

Spencer gulped, unsure what to say. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Y/N- She talks about you, when she’s in between consciousness. She showed me pictures a few weeks ago, told me all about the man she loved who she was so sure didn’t love her back. She’ll be so glad to see you.”

He wanted to smile at the information but he felt so sick that he couldn’t force his lips up into even a grimace. “How is she?” He dared to ask.

“I’m sorry, Dr Reid. Y/N is incredibly ill. We’re just trying to make her as comfortable as we can, I’m afraid it won’t be long now. Follow me, she could use your company.”

His heart broke but he followed her, attempting not to breakdown in a fit of cries.

When he saw her his heart broke even more. Her cheeks were sullen and she was thinner than he remembered. But she was still so beautiful to him. He thanked the doctor and pulled up a chair next to her, taking one of her frail hands in his. She turned to look at him, flashing a weak smile.

“Spencer? Are you really here?”

“Yes sweetheart. And I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He choked out, attempting to smile for her sake.

She nodded, and he brought his lips to her hand to place a gentle kiss on it.

“I’ve missed you.” She whimpered out. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve missed you too.” He felt like breaking down but he had to be strong for her. “Y/N, I have to tell you, if this is the last chance I get I- I love you. I always have done. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all those months ago. I’m here now, but I’m too late.” He sobbed.

“Hey, hey. . It’s okay. It was a privilege to love you, Spencer Reid.” She smiled, moving her frail hands up to cup his face. It made him sob harder.

“I wish we had more time.” He cried, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I know, me too.”

They talked for the whole evening, and then, when she got too exhausted to continue conversation, he pulled out her favourite book from his satchel. He read to her, listening to the sound of her shallow breathing.

The team visited, all too shocked to say much, but they came to say goodbye. Y/N was barely conscious enough to realise what was going on, but she still managed to give the team a weak smile and a whispered, “Love you guys.”

JJ and Garcia had to leave the room so they wouldn’t collapse in tears front of her.

When the heart monitor went flat in the early hours of the next morning, that loud blaring sound filling Spencer’s ears, his sobs started again as he rested his forehead on her still chest.

“Please. Please don’t go. Come back, I love you.” Spencer begged, his shoulders moving with the sobs that wracked through him. He’d never felt so utterly heartbroken. Not when he watched his father leave, not when he saw his mother’s condition worsen, not even when Maeve was killed right in front of him. None of that compared to how his chest burned and his throat was sore from the sobs that ripped from him, and the tears that relentlessly cascaded down his cheeks.

“Please, baby. Look at me. Let me see them gorgeous eyes, yeah?” He begged, he prayed to every god there ever was that she’d look at him again with those beautiful orbs that he’d fallen so In love with. Those stunning eyes that would never open again.

The doctor, with tears in her own eyes at the scene before her, moved to turn the heart monitor off, the obnoxious withstanding beep cutting off. It made Spencer’s head ache.

Spencer clutched Y/N’s hand desperately to his chest, his head resting on her chest as he cried. He squeezed her hand, and some foolish part of him almost believed that if he squeezed hard enough he’d wake up from whatever nightmare this was. He twisted his eyelids shut and dreamed. He dreamed of waking up next to Y/N, in a bed that they shared, wedding bands on their fingers and their children’s footsteps and laughter filling their home. He dreamed of a life with her, of raising a family with her. He dreamed of the life she deserved.

He wanted to scream. How was this fair? How were murderers and serial rapists walking around with no consequence but people like Y/N had their lives ripped from them?

It was unjust.

But the world was cruel, Spencer knew. It was cruel and it was cold and it was unforgiving.

He raised his head from her chest, using the hand that wasn’t holding hers to place his hand on her cheek. He pushed forward, placing a gentle kiss on her cold and lifeless lips.

it was a goodbye. one that needn’t be spoken.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll honour you for the rest of my life, I promise.”

Spencer Reid never recovered from losing Y/N Y/L/N.

[johns-prince]

Let's play the speculation game and say McLennon was real. Going with the common idea that Paul dumped John in India, wasn't the "let's all be friends, write together and go on double dates with our wives" angle Paul seemed to hope for completely delusional? Why would someone with John's issues stick around and celebrate Paul's happiness with someone else after being downgraded?

I have great respect for Paul's decision of not being John's nanny/handler for the rest of his life. But I've always been annoyed by his inability to let the man go for good. Paul, you've made your choice, my friend. Enough with the sad songs about not being called back or turning up on John's doorstep with a guitar when the he was spending time with his own family. People hate that but some things in the world really are black or white. You can't have it both ways.

Why speculate when we know it was and is real 

Alright so, let me try to unpack my thoughts cohesively get ya tinfoil hats on y’all;

If we go with the theory that during 1967, when Paul and John were practically living together and conjoined at the hip, taking LSD together and sharing those intense and intimate experiences that even Pau’s girlfriend Jane had become envious of— John had come to the realization of what he wanted, finally acknowledged it and came to accept it. 

So in India, John tried to confront Paul about their relationship and their “relationship,” and openly admit to Paul that he wanted more, that he was now willing to leave Cynthia and Julian for a life he truly wanted or desired, and that included Paul (but to what extent is what we debate I guess) 

And now that I’m thinking about it, we also know John was sort of beginning to spiral downward in 1968. It was obvious his marriage with Cynthia was at it’s end, and he didn’t want to work on it anymore. He was surrounding himself more with druggies, an unsavory crowd that Cynthia really didn’t approve of (Yoko was part of this crowd) and he was actively pulling away.  

I think John was realizing that, he just wasn’t happy. That, putting everything he had into becoming one of the most successful musicians in the world, to become bigger then Elvis Presley, didn’t make him happy. It didn’t fix what needed fixing in him, what needed addressing. He was still drowning despite it all. 

So you’ve got the trip to India, the boys going in hopes that perhaps the Maharishi Mahesh Yog and his spiritual teachings would somehow give a new perspective on things, produce the answer that would save the band (save John and Paul) from what appeared to be an inevitable downfall. But as we know, that isn’t what was needed. 

John and Paul needed to talk. The lack of consistent communication between them for years and years, and the fact John needed a therapist, he needed rehab. So did Paul, during the White Album era. 

I don’t believe Paul dumped John, but I do think John could have easily misconstrued Paul taking a step back and not willing to just go blindly, impulsively jumping off a theoretical cliff with him, as being rejected. We know Paul had to sort of take the position of ‘think before you leap’, to be more conscious of the actions and decisions he and the others decide to take, and how it would effect them as individuals, and especially them as a band (because frankly the others wouldn’t) and we know that John could be incredibly impulsive, only thought of the consequences after the fact. That, and who’s to say such a proposition and confrontation from John hadn’t scared Paul? Got him feeling those insecurities of his own crawling up. 

Paul wanted a traditional family, he wanted to have a wife and children. But Paul also wanted John, he wanted and loved Lennon-McCartney, and he didn’t think (or he’d hoped) him getting married and having a family would really change anything between them (because John got married and had a kid and they were still able to do go and do whatever they wanted together, so what was the difference—) that he could still keep what he had with John, that they could still stay together after The Beatles split. Get around to writing that musical, and grow old together still writing and making music, still creating together.

How I see it, is that Paul wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Paul, being fine with keeping the status quo between them, it was safe and enough (right?), but John vehemently wasn’t fine with it anymore, and it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was enough for him, as we know; John was a very all-or-nothing individual, and expected complete devotion and love from someone, because receiving less felt like rejection and abandonment was only around the corner. This way of feeling and thinking for John was only exasperated by the drugs, his alcoholism, and his spiraling mental health. 

Paul could have tried compromising with John, and John still could have taken that as a complete rejection of his feelings and what he wanted, and what he had hoped and thought Paul also wanted. 

I believe Paul probably didn’t even know himself what he had done wrong, or that he did anything wrong. I don’t think Paul believed he was downgrading John to anything either.

If only they had talked.

Then they returned from India, and the rest as we know it...

“To me, a summary is something like: “gifted, disturbed boy with tremendous amount of drive to outrun a bad childhood discovers love for music and creative soulmate(s) and gives everything he has to become the most famous musician in the world, hoping it will make him happy. He does, but it doesn’t, and people who don’t have his best interests separate him from his friends, his creation and creative spark, and ultimately himself. He’s too screwed up by addiction, mental illness, and unaddressed traumas to change things, so he retreats further into addiction and mental illness, wishing he could somehow regain his lost spark. He makes a few halfway steps toward doing so, but they’re not enough, and ultimately he is killed in front of his apartment building where, 24 hours later, his wife installs the man she had been sleeping with behind his back.”"

— Michael Bleicher, The Artist as a Dissipated Man: Fred Seaman’s “The Last Days of John Lennon.”

Right, so both John and Paul made their choices in life. Some choices and decisions that we as fans and outside observers might never be able to understand, or agree with.

But who’s to say Paul (and John), couldn’t, didn’t, or don’t regret those choices and decisions? 

I get what you’re saying, I understand. Why can’t Paul move on? He made his choices, why is it 40, 50 years later, that Paul can’t just let John go? Let sleeping dogs lie, all that.

Because Paul loved John, still loves John, to this day. 

Because, clearly Paul has some regrets. He regrets how things were handled during the Divorce. He regrets not hugging John enough. He regrets not telling John, when he had the chance and time, that he loved him (and without the help of alcohol) When you love someone so deeply, and suddenly, without warning, they’re taken from you and the world, you regret a lot, and you miss what could have been, the ‘What if’s.’ 

Paul said that what he and John were, were soulmates. I don’t know how it feels to lose a soulmate. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to know how it feels to get the opportunity to love and be around them. 

How awful do you think it is to meet your soulmate, but you cannot freely love them? Can’t just, be, with them? Not in just one way, bestmates, legendary partners, but, as everything that the word Soulmate brings along and includes with it? 

That God decided to have them be of the same sex, during a time where it was illegal to love and be with someone of the same sex, and could even be a potential death sentence to be assumed or thought of as a ‘queer.’ 

So, you take whatever you can with them. 

Then that isn’t enough. One grows restless, desperate for more. It can’t happen, not realistically, not without consequences of varying degrees. 

Strain, miscommunication to none. They communicate through a musical, artistic language which just isn’t enough. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness and emotional turmoil, it’s all too much. It breaks. Soulmates are still flawed human beings. 

You have people who work to purposefully pin them against each other. Parasites and piggybackers. 

A nasty divorce and breakup between two lovers that never were.

And then, after ten years, it’s happening. You two are talking again, things are tense and awkward still sometimes, but something’s changed. You’ve planned on reuniting, couldn’t do it this year, because the studio you wanted was booked. So you plan for after the New Year. 

Then, your soulmate is killed. Just, taken away from you, like nothing. Violently and suddenly. And all the possibilities... The time... Gone. Ripped away from both of you.

I can’t blame Paul for not letting go. I can’t say I’d ever be able to understand the sort of pain and heartbreak he experienced. He still goes through it! It’s still there. He’s just learned how to manage it a bit better. 

I’d say it’s more pathetic then it is annoying— and I don’t mean it in a way to insult Paul. I really don’t. Because John was just as pathetic when it came to his obvious obsession, desire, and love for Paul, too. 

Love, that kind of soul-deep love, it can make you pathetic and hopeless. And it’s not something you can just... let go for good. 

Wanting, or expecting Paul to let go of John for good... Firstly would be impossible, and secondly, how do you let go of a soulmate? John is a part of Paul, whether some like it or not. Can’t really have one without the other. 

Can’t have Lennon without McCartney, and vice-or-versa. Forever intertwined, are they.

[isshebreathing]

I had an unexpected weekend off and it’s too hot to be outside today, so five stories in one weekend is too much for me to catch up with. Thanks everyone for your positive response so far, I’ll definitely keep working on them.

If you are triggered by dark stuff and death fantasy you can skip part 2 and come straight to part 3 without missing anything.

Chronic Asthma Part 3

We were over staffed at the hospital so I volunteered to leave. I had been working so much that my girlfriend Emily and I were like ships passing in the night. She would have just gotten home from her bar tending shift and we could eat dinner in bed then fall asleep watching a reality show like a normal couple would. Emily has a bachelor’s degree in fine art, but she still bartends because it pays more money. I’ve always felt guilty about that, once I was done with med school I would be able to make more money and she wouldn’t have to work. She could tell the men who made passes at her to fuck off without fear of losing precious tips or worse yet, her job.

“Coming home early” I texted “dinner and tv?”

I didn’t get a response

“???????” I sent.

She might have been in bed, when I called her this evening she sounded tired and short of breath, she said she had been running to catch something.

The thought crossed my mind that Emily was not okay. She had had chronic asthma since she was a child as a result of the poor air quality in the Appalachian town she was raised in. Sometimes late at night I would feel her start awake and I knew she was having a nightmare of one of the two times she had stopped breathing entirely in her life.

I pushed the thought out of my head, Emily had always accused me of overthinking things and turning them into a medical crisis, it was a side effect of seven years of med school I guessed.

I sent another text “Fast food tacos?”

I got no response, “she’s probably in the shower,” I said to myself.

My anxiety didn’t fade though, I thought we had food at home we could make. I ordered a car on my phone to shorten the 45 minutes the train would have taken. I tried to get the thought of my girlfriend struggling to breath on the floor out of my head and tried to replace it with the pleasant warmth and surprise I’d see on her face when I came home early for an unexpected date night.

I bounded up the stairs and opened our door, I was surprised that our cat Walter didn’t come to greet me, he must have been confused by my shortened day.

The kitchen and living room and hallway lights were on, and I could see that our bedroom light was on too, but the shower wasn’t running. “Babe, you left the lights on again,” I said frustratedly expecting her to say “don’t mock my fear of the dark” jokingly in reply but I didn’t hear anything.

“Babe?” I said again with no response.

“Emily?” I said louder, now making my way down the hallway.

I turned into our room and saw my worst fears realized, Emily was laying in the fetal position on the floor, face turned gray, inhaler and nebulizer scattered around her. She had an asthma attack that turned into a breathing crisis, she was in respiratory arrest in front of me.

I rushed over to her and put my face close to hers, “Emily,” I said again trying to shake her awake. She looked into my eyes for a brief moment before they rolled back in her head and fluttered closed. I put two fingers under her chin and felt her heart sputter to a stop, she was in full arrest now.

I saw her cell phone on the floor next to the handset I insisted on keeping because 911 services could better trace your address on a landline. I picked up the handset and realized it was already connected. “Ma’am? Ma’am can you hear me? Help is on the way” a dispatcher says calmly on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, I just walked in and my girlfriend is in full arrest, I’m a doctor, I need an ambulance.”

The dispatcher responds but I don’t care what they say. I lay Emily flat on her back and rip off her fitted bar t-shirt. I grab the knife from my pocket and slice off her bra, exposing her graying chest as her large breast flopped to each side. I started compressions and yelled “Emily you have to come back okay.”

Her lifeless body lay unresponsive, rocking inward as I pounded on her chest, “and ten and eleven and twelve” I push away any thoughts of arousal that I feel from her naked body needing me to pump it’s heart for her. “And twenty-seven, and twenty-eight, and twenty-nine, and thirty” I move up towards her head and tilt it back, I try to give her a puff of air, her cheeks puff out but her chest lays still.

I realize her airway is completely blocked and run to get the medical bag I keep in my closet, I pour iodine on her throat and place my knee on her forehead to stabilize her.

I have seen this procedure done in the real world twice, once on a training video and once in my ER rotation, I have never actually done the procedure. My mind goes into a trance, I am no longer a frantic girlfriend I am a medical professional performing a medical routine. I grab a scalpel and make a small slice in the skin of her throat covering her trachea, I make a few more careful slices though skin and fat and muscle taking care not to slice too deep. I take some gauze and soak up the blood as I find the trachea. I put a small slice in the organ and mucus and blood immediately start coming up, I place my two fingers into the hole so I don’t lose it and grab one of the clear plastic tubes I had set out for the procedure, I slip the tube into her trachea as a sickening gurgle lets out all of the fluid that had been stuck in her airway. I snapped on a breathing tube and an ambu bag. I began to breathe for her. Her chest rising each time I squeezed breath into her.

The adrenaline of the initial crisis was fading fast. I was trying to do compressions with one hand and respirations with the other. Emily had told me horror stories about air hunger and how terrifying it was, I needed to help her heart beat and also keep air going to her lungs.

I started to panic because I didn’t know what to do next, do I just keep her partially alive until help comes? How long could she stay this way?

I choked down my panic as the EMT’s rushed in, and took over, I was surprised how aroused I was seeing a man forcefully pump my girlfriends chest while someone else squeezes a bulb to breathe for her.

I snap back into the present as the third medic is asking me questions. “She’s 28 years old, she has a history of asthma, no known history of a heart condition…..”

My mind trails off as the severity of what is happening hits me, I lose my composure and start to sob and I begged, “Emily please stay here with me, please stay alive,”

I watch the scene unfold as the paramedics put two white pads on Emily’s chest, one between her breasts and one On her side. I lose all medical knowledge as I watch a surge of electricity shoot through her body contorting it in an unnatural horror. The shock does nothing, the v-fib that the drugs gave her has turned into a flatline.

I watch in horror as the slip a board under her to raise her chest more, making her large and graying breasts fall further to the side, they snap a machine over her and turn it on, the machine makes an unnatural squeaking noise as it beats on her chest 100 times a minute.

I forget that I am a doctor, I forget my medical training, this isn’t a case in front of me this is the woman I love.

“Are you hurting her?” I ask as the machine pounds into her over and over and over again.

“We need to beat her heart for her,” the paramedic replies.

For a moment I think it’s too much, her hands are strapped to the side of the machine that is violently pounding her chest, making her shoulders shift inwards, her belly bulge, and feet rock inward with each compression pounding into her battered body. A tube sticks unnaturally out of her mouth attached to a blue bulb that someone has to squeeze to make her chest rise with breath. “It’s too much to expect her body to take this to stay.” I think, but thought of living without her snaps me back to reality. I am almost a doctor, a medical professional, I will do anything it takes to keep my girlfriend alive even if it’s with machines.

They load her into the back of the ambulance and despite my protests make me sit in the front with the driver.

I text my colleague in the ER, “headed in with Emily, bad asthma attack to full arrest, get prepped to start life support. I can’t lose her”

“Oh god Jen, we will do whatever it takes” she replies.

[onlydylanobrien]

Director Christopher MacBride must relish in screwing with people's minds. His previous film, 2012's The Conspiracy, found two documentary filmmakers drawn into the world of conspiracy theories and wondering what was real... or not. His latest endeavor, Flashback – formerly entitled The Education of Fredrick Fitzell – is another head trip.

The movie follows Fred (Teen Wolf's Dylan O'Brien), a 30-year-old man suffering from violent flashbacks that harken back to his youth. Brutal and scary, the visions lead him on this journey to uncover the truth surrounding the mysterious disappearance of his high school classmate, Cindy. To get answers, Fred hunts down his former teen drug buddies. One night, they end up at a crazy drug-den party, where these strangers are all strung out on the substance Mercury. Everything spirals out of control from there, as past, present and future versions of Fred come into play.

SYFY WIRE has been following the film's progress throughout production, visiting the set as far back as 2018, where we chatted with the cast. As the film gears up to finally hit theaters, and in the wake of a delay caused by the pandemic, here's our chat with MacBride from that set visit in Toronto. The director sat down with us to discuss the project's bigger themes, high-concept science fiction, monsters, and casting O'Brien.

The original title of the movie had "education" in it. What does Fredrick learn along his journey?

The "education" definitely has multiple meanings. One of them is exploring the idea of how a human being is educated in a broad sense. How do we learn basic building blocks of life that affect us 30 years later? Experiences you have as a kid, as a child, how do those basic educational building blocks that get instilled in you. How do they then influence you when you are a grown man? Another part of it is a chunk of the story is about growing up. There's a coming-of-age aspect to it. Fred is a guy approaching 30. He's on the cusp of full-blown adulthood, in a lot of ways. He's in his first serious relationship. Is he going to commit to his girlfriend? Is he going to give up his dreams of becoming an artist and take up an office job? Is he going to become a responsible adult? His mother is also on her deathbed, which is another rite of passage when you are no longer a child. So, the education is about how to be an adult, but it's also him learning about the forces in his life that control him.

Can you talk about infusing the science-fiction element into this narrative?

Sci-fi is my favorite genre. The type that I gravitate towards most is the Philip K. Dick-type mind-bending science fiction. I love stories like that, whether it's novels or movies… high-concept, brain-teasing sci-fi. Flashback is definitely influenced by Philip K. Dick. The idea of not understanding your own identity is really interesting to me. Mind-bending sci-fi is such a great way to explore these themes of identity. A Scanner Darkly is a great example. It's stuff that could be pretentious or not fit in a straight-ahead drama. But in sci-fi, it gives you license to explore it in that way.

Where does Flashback's shapeshifting creature come into play?

The creature is a mystery in the film. I wanted an antagonist that wasn't a conventional antagonist. It's not a horror monster that is trying to gobble you up or kill you. It's something the main characters perceive when they are on this drug, that seems almost godlike. It seems to be everywhere at once. It has a Lovecraftian vibe to it. He often has creatures referred to as "you can't fathom what they look like, and you would lose your mind if you did." This is my attempt to build something like that, that looks and moves and acts like no other monster in any other movie. We are still in the process of putting it together, so we will see how it ultimately comes out.

Are the effects practical or computer-generated?

A combination of both. Audiences have seen every kind of CG monster. No matter how good the technology gets, there's always that uncanny valley where you always know it's not really there. I like things that have a Cronenberg, sticky-tactile nature to them. I want the creature to feel like it's made up of something that you don't understand, and it moves in a way you don't understand.

How did casting Dylan O'Brien as the lead come about and what did he bring to the table?

When we started casting, we wanted a good actor. But we also had certain criteria. We needed somebody who could be 17 and 30 realistically, which is tough. One of our producers, Russell Ackerman, brought up Dylan O'Brien and asked what I thought. I said, "Yes," and I went and watched American Assassin. I could see how he had formed a real character in the movie. I could see it had boundaries and limits. I could see he was a real actor. We met and he got the script. He not only got the role, but he got the whole story, so I was really impressed.

Flashback premieres in select theaters and VOD on June 4.