#one mans trash is another mans treasure baby

[derelictheretic]

It my borthday so I'm gonna rec some of my fave fics I've written, (and mayhaps,, promo my writing blog @musings-of-a-lovesick-fool bc I post a ton of my writing there,,) no obligation to read any of them but if you do thankies very muchly I appreciate you <3

A Misunderstanding: Faith/Piper — Pip punches Dean in the face and reunites with Faith in Dutch's crusty bunker. Cas is there too, for moral support.

Only I Can Help You: Jacob/Dean — Dean deserves a nap and Jacob deserves a kick in the nuts. (Plus Jacob's greatest fear revealed; Dean getting with his ex aka Eli)

Tuck You In: Mary May/Anya — Anya walks Mary May home from the bar and tucks her drunk ass into bed. (Anya/Mary May Wedding when?)

One Man's Trash Is Another Man's Treasure: Heisenberg/Colvyr — Heisenberg experiences Colvyr withdrawals and is getting close to fighting Alcina for full custody, Colvyr is just happy to be there.

No Choice: John/Dean/James — John's impatient, Dean's pissed off and James is the mediator in the relationship who wants his boyfriends to stop fighting.

Hope: Ethan/Darius — Darius is 'intruiged' by Ethan and wants to know what's up with his magic healing water and dadcore one-liners.

A Mistake and A Saving Grace: Joseph/Dean — Dean done fucked up and he's gonna pretend it didn't happen like he should have pretended he was sick when he was called in to arrest Joseph.

The Angels Right Hand: Anya Cherkov — A day in the life of Anya, Faiths begrudging right hand and her personal errand girl apparently. (Features Sharky and my bby boy Simon <3)

[tobitenkit]

love being a janitor i get so many little treasures out of trash cans

[tayraedoll]

Drag Me to Hell

You purchase an old radio at an antique store that turns out to be haunted as fuck. Will you successfully banish the demon back to hell before he can take you with him? Just to be safe MDNI 18+ Only!

So I meant to write this as a one-shot but it quickly got away from me so now it is a full, multi-chapter fic. What can I say? I have lost all control of my life...

TW: Horror, Alastor is his own warning, blood, gore, swearing, crude and dark humor, hallucinations, reader is not an exorcist expert- don't try this at home, more tags to be added as the story progresses.

Part 2

"Do we really have to go in?", you whine to your best friend Kate, scrunching your nose in disgust at the literal shack with a rusty, old "Antiques" sign.

Kate giggles at your antics,"Oh come on; it'll be fun! Who knows what treasures we might find?" She grabs your arm and pulls you through the door behind her; the little bell atop the door chimes merrily to signal your entrance. You look around, as far as you were concerned there was junk piled high in every direction. Taking stock of the room you were in you notice old Coke bottles, cigar boxes, a china cabinet filled with those creepy ass 'Precious Moments' figurines, and a shit ton of clothes that were even too outdated for your grandmother to wear.

"You're counting literal trash as treasure now? That explains your dating history", you deadpan at your friend.

"Bitch I said we MIGHT find treasure! But you gotta dig through the dirt to reach it first", Kate rolls her eyes at you but smiles at your jab. Gentle bullying was just how you showed each other your love. She walks further into the store, perusing through all the trinkets on the shelves. You follow after her, trying your best to not make eye contact with those Precious Moments dolls whose eyes seemed to follow you as you pass by.

You enter an adjacent room, this one filled with tin cooking instruments in varying degrees of disrepair. A portly, older gentleman with greying hair sat behind a register with a large tabby cat on the table. The cat lets out a loud yowl at the pair of you but the man says nothing as he watches you carefully in case you try to steal anything. 'What in here is even worth stealing?' you think to yourself. You smile at him politely and quickly move onto the next room, this one filled with old toys...yikes.

"So how do you know when you find "treasure?", you ask, using your fingers to put air quotations around the word treasure. Kate picks up a particularly disturbing looking baby doll and wiggles it in front of your face.

"When you find something you just can't leave without!", she laughs as you flinch back, glaring at her- you had told her your hatred of dolls in good faith and here she was using that information against you. She places the demonic toy back on the shelf and you give it another glare for good measure- not today Annabelle.

The next area was only slightly less disturbing; it looked like a middle-aged housewife was allowed to decorate it with all the "Live, Laugh, Love" and "Wine a Little, Laugh A Lot" signs all around. "Jesus Fucking Christ does this place never end?! It didn't look this big from outside!", you exclaim in exasperation. Kate carded through a stack of pictures and paintings.

"Perhaps if you actually looked for something that strikes your fancy you'd have a better time", she absentmindedly replied. You sigh but raise your hands in surrender, she had a point there. You make your way to the back, knowing nothing in this basic Karen of a room was going to please you.

When you reach the next room your eyes light up,"A ha! Now this room is interesting!", you call back to Kate. It was a music-themed room full of old records, CD's, posters, and stereos. As a music major in college you felt your heart soar at the sight of all the little pieces of music history surrounding you. You immediately dig into the records, wondering if you could find something new for your collection that was in decent shape. Maybe it was old school of you, but nothing beat the crisp sound of a record; records made you feel like the music was surrounding you, like you could see and taste the notes making it a full-body sensory experience.

Kate joins you, letting out a curt laugh,"I should have guessed it would be a music room." Your frown slightly as you reach the end of the records without finding anything of note for your collection. You sigh heavily at the disappointment that fills your chest.

"Too bad this room turned out to be a du-", you trail off as you catch sight of it. On the top shelf at the far end of the room sat an ornate, antique radio. It was cathedral-shaped, made of a dark- almost black- wood, the face painted a bright crimson. The speakers resembled a throne and below the control panel were large, yellow slices that resembled flames...or a very creepy smile. You gently plucked the fragile-looking radio from the shelf; it was a lot sturdier than it looked, feeling pretty hefty in your hands. You turn it around in your hands, it appeared to be battery-powered like most radios were prior to the 1930's. You wondered if it would work today.

"Find something interesting?", Kate asked beside you. She made a face at the old radio, "No offense but that thing is creepy AF!"

"It is no creepier than that doll earlier!", you defend your unique find. "I think I'll purchase it", you state with finality and make your way back to the front. The old man speaks little more than just to tell you your total cost, the cat joining him as they stare at you distrustfully. 'Jeez, cranky old coot', you think.

Back at your home you tinker around with the radio, polishing it up a bit and adding some new batteries. Your home was small, just a 1-bedroom and bathroom place that you were renting on the outskirts of New Orleans. You decorated modestly, a bookshelf with your favorite novels and records took up an entire wall of your small living room. The TV was small and pushed into a corner, you really only used it for background noise most days. You had one small but comfortable couch that you mostly used to work on. You were a writer for OffBeat, New Orleans' local music magazine. It was a great gig that let you work from home, even if you weren't compensated the best being a new writer on the team. You spent most of your days writing about Jazz and The Blues, local concerts and events coming up, and interviewing rising artists.

You placed the radio up on top of your bookshelf, you'd try to get it to work tomorrow. As you were pushing it back onto the shelf you felt a sharp sting in your finger, "Ah! Fuck!", you exclaim as you quickly pull your finger back. You inspect it, finding a drop of blood leaking out of your skin; you must have accidentally cut yourself on one of the yellow ornamental parts. You raise your bleeding finger to your lips and gently suck the small wound to soothe it. Sparing one last glance up to the radio, you turn off the light and head to bed.

Completely missing how the smile of the radio that just bit into you started to eerily glow in the dark after you.

[waughymommy]

HAPPY SUNDAY BABIES, MOMMYS, DADDYS AND EVERYONE READING...😘🌈🦋🥒🍆🩱👠😶‍🌫️🫶🏻

Where are you reading from?😘😘💔🍼💋

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 7

            Brian awoke before Rebecca. He gingerly got up from the bed so as not to disturb her. He walked into their bathroom and just stared into the mirror. The state of euphoria he had experienced earlier was replaced with shame and disgust at himself. He felt the heaviness of his pullup. The last 48 hours had been a mental whirlwind. His emotions were all over the place and he lacked any clarity of what was happening. Control seemed to be slipping away from him. He ripped the pullup and threw it in the trash can. He needed a shower to feel clean and maybe he could recenter himself.

            Water and soap couldn’t scrub away his embarrassment, but the warm water at least felt good. Why this? Why do I want to be an adult baby? It isn’t normal. Brian first noticed his babyish desires when he was about 13. His father ran off with another woman when he was little, leaving his wife to raise two young boys. She eventually remarried a few years later, but the departure of his father impressed upon the Brian the need to be responsible and mature. He saw himself as the male of the house. He rejected anything he deemed childish. He seldom played with toys. When he was toddler, his mother had decorated his room with Sesame Street characters. It had been his favorite, but after his father left, he ripped down all the décor, telling his mother that was for babies.

He focused on his studies and presenting himself as a sophisticated. He yearned for every adult he spoke with to see him as an articulate and intelligent young man. Brian never caused any problems and was a model student. He seemed more at ease talking to adults about history rather than spending time with his own peer group. Brian had always been a bit shy and reserved, but teachers recognized that he possessed the character of a true leader. Anyone that knew Brian always commented that he was an old soul.

            Then came the day that his mother announced that they were expecting another baby. Little did he know that it would awaken deep seated feelings. Brian never let his mother cuddle him, but as he watched his mother’s belly get bigger, he found himself wanting that maternal affection. He tried to resist those feelings, but they only grew more intense. On a few occasions, he caved to his feelings and snuggled up next to his mother. His mother treasured those moments as he so seldomly expressed needing her. She held her boy to her chest as she did when he was little. He remembered a day not long before his sister was born, his mother invited him to lay his head on her belly. He could feel the baby moving inside. He felt ashamed of himself in that moment for needing his mother. Babies need their mother, not him.

            His sister was born a few days after his 13th birthday. He was now a teenager, but because his mother was due any day, his birthday came with little fanfare. When mother and baby returned home, Brian’s confusion only grew more intense. He was her big brother. But then one evening, Brian sat transfixed upon his mother as she was breastfeeding. In that moment, all he wanted to do was switch places. It was the first time he truly yearned to be a baby. Those feelings took him completely off guard. It was one thing to want to snuggle with his mother, but to want to be a baby suckling at his mother. The fantasy both excited him and disgusted him. He started to question his own sanity. Am I crazy? I am surely the only person in the world who has these feelings. Over the next few weeks, Brian experienced dreams where he was a baby. In one of those dreams, he remembered that he was in a diaper and he felt his bladder let go. He woke up just as he was starting to pee. Fortunately, he was able to stop himself before he soaked his bed. He couldn’t believe that happened. He managed to do his laundry without attracting the attention of his mother, but that dream only strengthened his curiosity about wearing diapers.

            One day while his mother was out running errands, Brian snuck into the nursery. He plucked a pacifier from a stash of them. Surely his mother wouldn’t notice that one was missing, but then he went a step further. He snatched a diaper. He knew he couldn’t possibly fit into it, but with some tape he could fasten it around himself. He went back into his room, locked the door. His hands were trembling. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he closed his eyes and placed the pacifier in his mouth. The feeling of bliss was immediate and it felt so natural to be sucking on it. He stripped down and taped the diaper around his waist. He told himself over and over again to just let go. He recalled the feeling of the dream when he almost wet his bed. It was only natural for a baby to wet their diaper. He started to relax and he began to urinate. It start as a few spurts, but then he completely soaked the diaper. Pee ran down his legs. It was the greatest thing he had ever experienced. Brian realized in that moment that he was truly a baby deep down. He was never going to be the same again.

[postsforposting]

this is a skull fuck

(oral sex joke. explicitly, a sitting on face joke)

soooo this gentle playful boop was ALSO

a sitting on face joke....

followed by a jacking off, swallowing, and PASSING THE FUCK OUT SATISFIED joke that logan was delighted to be part of, and deadpool had no idea how much he wanted

even though wolvie said he didn't give a fuck, as he spit, he absolutely already did.

just like deadpool had a "doing a header" joke from "outside the box" followed by a ton of getting his head banged in by every wolverine

cause one man's worst trash heap is another man's treasure.

....

remember vanessa? at the end of the first deadpool movie, vanessa says after seeing wade's new face that she's sure she would be happy to be with him, though only after a brief adjustment period and a bunch of drinks would she be happy to sit on him.

logan didn't need to be drunk to sit on wade's face. no adjustment period either. he wasn't initially sure he wanted him, but he did want him, and was sure by the end.

one night stand straight to marriage! the fighting was just that good. fortunately what happens in the void didn't stay in the void. fucking things up across the timelines, that's multiversal incest baby!

i think that's also the only time vanessa insults wade--when they meet, it's them trading mean comments about themselves, but not each other. if you "lay someone down" you're about to fuck them, so if you "put yourself down" you're fucking yourself. which is how wade and vanessa's story went: they got fucked.

but to "put someone else down".....you're fucking them over. and that's poolverine's whole schtick, ain't it? they went from fucking themselves over to working each other over.

snort cackle PUNCH

to put someone down is also to fight or kill them. for wade and wolvie, that's just a little death, they'll always come back for more

cause they're down bad

[miss-may-i]

Miss May I: Season 4 Part 30

Isabella: Julie, when you called me and told me you were hanging out at a dump, I didn't know you meant literally. What are we doing here?

Julian: These fuckers around town won't hire me anymore once they see I have a baby, so I'm cutting out the middleman. I'm going to find some broken junk, fix it up, then sell it on my own.

Isabella: Oh, like one man's trash is another man's treasure?

Julian: Sure. So help me look for some trash that could be useful.

Isabella: Trash that looks like treasure? How am I supposed to find that? It all looks like trash to me...

Isabella: This looks like trash...

Julian: Bella, get over here! I found something.

Isabella: Oh thank god.

Julian: Look at it. It's perfect.

Isabella: It looks like a piece of junk.

Isabella: Wait, it's a piece of junk. It's perfect!

Julian: It's not a piece of junk. It's a classic.

Julian: Help me get this home.

Isabella: Home? How?

Julian: Push it.

Isabella: But it doesn't have wheels...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3

Previous | Beginning | Next

Family Tree

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yan!mafia boss with rebal reader after she's kidnapped. "Oh you wanna enclose me in you bigg bigg mansion with expensive stuff? I'll show you what real pain is taking care of someone" then she'd go destroy the kitchen because she wanna cook for her dear fiance and may accidentally handwash his premium tuxedos, oh! is that a very expensive car? Lemme drive you then proceeds to smash it in the boundary wall. What? I'm having fun in my cage. you can't do anything about it. Got it!

Yandere! Ex-patient! Mafia Boss x AFAB! Nurse!Reader

WHAT IF: Reader is a rebel type?

Hello everyone! I am closing requests once more, but this time, it will be indefinite. I am thinking of doing the second set of yanderes (I plan on doing a set by 16's) and I want to write the yanderes I have in my mind THEN take on new yandere type requests.

I am still answering the questions given, but the new yandere suggestions will be answered, but they are part of the second set now, rather than first set.

I fell in your arms tonight

I fell hard in your arms tonight

It was nice

I died in your arms tonight

Arms Tonite by Mother Mother was blasting through the mansion as crashes and bangs permeated through the whole building.

You smashed through the tv, an expensive vase, and a limited edition PS5.

With a smile, you grabbed the bat you somehow found in the mansion and tried to find another place to smash items with.

I slipped through into the afterlife

It was nice

White light in your arms tonight

I lost sight in your arms tonight

It was nice

It's been quite a while since Hades kidnapped you and baby trapped you. In all honesty, you were going crazy being trapped inside the house.

And let's just say, it broke your "good nurse" personality.

Now, along with your raging and fluctuating hormones, annoyance, and anger at Hades, you were treating his mansion as your personal rage room.

His men can't do anything either. They're too scared of Hades (and you) to intervene. So all they could do is watch as you listened to the music and trash his home.

And hey, you

Don't you think it's kind of cute

That I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight

That I'm fine even after I have died

Because it was in your arms I died

You skipped towards his room as his men nervously followed you from a distance. Your smile looks so elated as you rummaged through his wardrobe, finding armani suits and some you don't recognize.

But hey, you won't recognize them either when you ruin them, right?

Throwing the suits in the furnace, you got some shoes and started going down to the garage.

"Hmm, i'm not that much of an artist, but won't that @^!#&*$(% love some personalized shoes?"

"MADAM! PLEASE DON'T SAY BAD WORDS!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH DOGS!"

And as dogs, they whimpered from the sudden outburst you gave.

I cry in the afterlife I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive I try to escape afterlife I try hard to get back inside your arms alive

With the house fully tarnished and nowhere to wreck, you threw away the now neon pink shoes and looked at the car vault.

"What's the passcode?" You asked innocently to the men.

None of them spoke, but one of them stupidly and naively blurted out. "XXXX"

Oh will you look at that. That's the month and day you were born.

You don't give a fat fuck though.

Huh. You could curse in your mind and the men won't be so overprotective of it.

And hey (hey), you (you), don't you think it's kinda cute That I (I) try (try) to escape the afterlife? That I (I) try (try) to get back in your arms alive? That I died in your arms

You opened the vault doors and grinned at the cars displayed.

This man is rich. Like extremely rich. Well, he's a mafia boss, and one filled with envy too. So do assume that these cars have blood on them. LIteraly and Figuratively.

You saw a hammer on the side and elegantly grabbed it. Inspecting it well.

The men, afraid to go inside the car vault, which is Hades most precious treasures, could only watch as their madam scare them half to death.

"Madam, please don't do this..."

"Nah."

"MADAM..."

That I fell hard in your arms I went and died in your arms that night

I fell in your arms tonight Suicide in your arms

A Bentley? Smashed.

Jeep? Ruined.

Ferrari? Trashed.

Every single car inside the garage was full on wrecked as you swung your hammer down to them. The clanging, crashing, and breaking sounds of metal and glass was the only thing can be heard other than your hard, deep breathing.

"Oh god.. What shall we say to the boss?"

"Leave her be."

The men jumped back in fear as they saw Hades cross his arms and watch you wreck his treasures one by one.

He has an adoring smirk on his face.

"But sir..."

"Nah, it's cute."

And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute That I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight? That I'm fine even after I have died? That I (I) try (try) to escape the afterlife? That I (I) try (try) to get back in your arms alive? That I died in your arms that night

Hades leaned on the opening and watch you wreck his possessions with a hammer. You looked so pent up and annoyed as you poured out your aggressions.

It's okay though.

SMASH!

His treasures were nothing to him anymore.

CRASH!

Why? Well, he already has the most priced possession he could have in a lifetime and next.

BAM!

And it's you. With your six month pregnant belly, with your face happy yet also filled with gloominess.

So who cares if you ruin his treasures? Those are shit compared to you.

As long as you stay by his side, you were free to ruin his things

And you're free to ruin him.

I fell in your arms tonight I died in your arms tonight I lie in your arms tonight I fell in your arms tonight

[ddejavvu]

mvm! maybe poly!maraudeers with a wispy, cute, fae-like reader! mischievous but well meaning, sly and sweet; reader definitely tries to trick one/all into giving their names all the time, so she can keep hardcore courting them and they can belong to each other. its a fae thing, and faes like coveting pretty things :] mainly thinkin abt slyly courting them in ways they absolutely do not notice at first, till like, remus decides to read up and study on fae behaviour, and he has an ‘oh’ moment

cute little tidbits that i love :) - shes notrious for managing to steal away pretty little trinkets, and its well known how much faes love and protect their treasures, so as a courting tactic, she gives (im thinking more along the lines of james) some really pretty blueish seaglass because it matches his eyes! sirius definitely flirts cheesily, saying he can be her treasure/pretty thing, she could steal HIM away, and readers just like.. “thats the plan :]”. another little thought.. she definitely manages to actually, genuinely, physically fluster even sirius sometimes, like, she'll make an offhand comment about like, how cute his babies will be if they get his nose! or his pretty cheekbones! and sirius sits there like :]

okay so we all had a tinkerbell phase as kids right? the animated movies of pixie hollow? well, thats how i imagine reader dresses too, however out of place it may seem - like how adults go disney bounding as their fav character, she`ll do that in public but she still has a very fae-ish outfit and look about her. and i cant begin to tell you how obsessed remus is with this. like, hes got his scars that are usually one of the first things people glue their eyes to, but with you next to him? they focus on the suspiciously authentic bag made of large green leafs, or the numerous flowers braided into your hair constantly, or the way you smell so divine, like lavender and honey, or vanilla and forest wood, or the way your eyes are so captivating that they cant help but feel a pull towards you (fae characteristics <3). on another note, you CANNOT TELL ME that big, sweetheart, ‘sometimes head empty brrrr’ james potter does not stare off into space sometimes, lip between his teeth, eyes glazed over and a bit widened, lazer focused on how your thighs look spilling out of your leaf dress (maybe a dress like tinkerbells - short and earthy and sweet, as a little visual aid :) ) the man just wants to bite, like actually bite the fat and grip your hips with his big hands and let his brain go dead. this phenomenon is made especially apparent when you discover lingerie and how pretty so much of it is!! the sweet lace and the cute cups and theres so. many. designs. you must get opinions all round on every single piece. probably wind up with them all suddenly being marvellously busy though, theyll walk through the door, spot the store bags from victorias secret on the couch, and beeline right back out. they physically just.. cannot. they cant put themselves through that and come out unaffected on the other side.

maybe she gets a bit worried/downtrodden one day and ofc they notice. the issue? “why arent you guys accepting my courting?? am i doing it wrong? its my first time so idk if im doing it right :((“ james definitely was clueless up until this point, no matter how many times both sirius and remus have hinted that shes been doing this, but for some reason, hes the only one who knows how to properly navigate this situation. he, quick as a whip, snags a pair of his old, broken, beaten up glasses and presses em into her hand - an offering, a courting recipricant, a trinket!!! - with the biggest smile on his face. the glasses have so much tape around the middle, one of the legs are hanging off, and the lenses are almost smashed entirely, but one mans trash is another mans treasure :DD readers just like “oh :)) thanks :))”, probably a little breathy and shy but with a beaming smile to match because give the girl a break, its her first time recieving a courting trinket of all things!! its like, the human equivilent of snogging someone before holding their hand!!

i only know little things about fae from stuff ive read in the past, but this is just an interpretation based on common things i can remember about them, if any of it is inaccurate im sorry!

(any time i send any of these little paragraphs in, i dont expect anything in return btw! its mainly just like, emptying the trashcan of thoughts in my head into a space where someone else might enjoy em! like, yk, here u go! read this like its ur a 1950s husband reading the newspaper in the morning! lmao makes no sense but then at least the little imaginations and ideas dont get lost into the world of my brain and someone else can have at em :) )

baby!!! i am not educated enough on fae aus to write one (at least, not yet) so i will be more reacting to this than i am adding to it but let me just tell you that i loved reading it!! i mean it when i say that every time you send something into my inbox i thoroughly enjoy it, i swear you write me your own little fanfictions and they're the highlights of my day no matter who they're about <33333

SGSNDF THEY'D BE SO SMUG IF THEY FOUND OUT THEY WERE 'PRETTY THINGS' TO YOU... they keep all of your little gifts tucked into their pockets except they might need a new home because you're just always giving them more and they can't fit them all in their pockets!!

YES REMUS AND HIS LITTLE FAIRY GF :'))) UGHHH he definitely spoils her with pretty jewelry and things to wear and bags to carry and he'll learn to make flower crowns just for her :'))

SGSDNFNSF YES fashion show!! you twirl around and show off the skimpy little sets you'd bought and everyone needs a very long, intensive cold shower after the fact </33

AWWW JAMES'S GLASSES :')) he blames it on the fact that he's overly sentimental that he even still has them, but he's so glad he never tossed them as he watches your eyes shine and your breath hitch when he presents you with them :') sirius probably gives you a guitar pick of his and remus lets you have a pretty bookmark of his with a little golden tassel on it :')

i want you to know that i fully plan on answering every single ask you send/have sent me, they are always so fantastic and i know i still have a few but i just reread two of them the other day and got all giddy and excited to expand on it so trust me i know there's no pressure but i want to do them anyways!!! seriously you make my day with these they're probably my favorite type of asks to get is like full stories :')) thank you for being so sweet all the time and thank you for sharing your ideas with me!!!!

[cas-50-28-2]

There Are 4 Genders

Note: like any good essay on gender, this post contains discussion of rape, transphobia, and racism.

What Is Gender

Gender is axis of power and oppression, like class. Unlike class, which is one's relation to production and labour, what gender fundamentally is is much less clear. Is it another form of division of labour? A feeling? An essential and fixed aspect of one's soul that is determined by God? I think gender is fundamentally about one's position within/relative to the household. This is what makes it different from class: you can easily talk about the class of a household [1] (e.g. rich family, low-income household) but talking about the gender of a household is nonsensical - the gender is contained inside of it.

When we view gender as arising from the conditions of the household, we can begin doing actual analysis. In this analysis, I will say things like "women are meek and obedient," which obviously sounds very bad, so let me clarify what I mean. I am not saying everyone who uses the label of "woman" is meek and obedient, or that they should be, or that they're not women if they're assertive and oppositional. I'm not really trying to talk about people at all - I'm talking about the cultural archetype of womanhood, about Woman and not actual women. I do, however, mean to imply that differing from that archetype does make one less of a woman. There's no single aspect of deviation from Woman that disqualifies one from womanhood, but it all adds up - if you're loud and assertive and tall and don't wear makeup and have stubble, you are not really going to be treated as a woman in public. As someone who's been a freshly-out transfem in that position, I think we do a disservice to people in that spot by insisting that womanhood is just about whether or not you identify with it - you know that you're being seen and treated as a man. Gender is something like a social role, a social position, a performance - and as such it cannot be done alone. Other people need to be willing to go along with your gender in order for you to be able to do it (and vice-versa can try to impose a gender onto you). If your friends don't treat you as you ask to be treated then they're shitty friends, but for strangers you will need to align yourself to these archetypes. Going off of this, I want to define a narrative-ish structure, with 4 roles, that I think gives a clearer understanding of gender in the US than the traditional 2-gender model. Also, like the 2-gender model, changing your role or escaping entirely is possible.

The Genders

I want to frame the genders through a storybook metaphor. The first three are familiar (and taken loosely from the Karpman drama triangle): the Prince, the Princess, and the Monster. Monsters are a threat to Princesses, who therefore need a brave and strong Prince to protect them. In return, the Princess tends to the Prince's wounds, and probably does his housework and stuff. In general, Princesses trade their autonomy for protection. You've seen this structure a million times: it's the damsel in distress; it's Link, Zelda, and Ganon; it's every Disney princess movie before 1995; it's The Birth of a Nation. My addition to this is the fourth gender, the Treasure (also sometimes referred to as Trash). The Prince gets the Treasure as his reward for slaying the Monster. Princesses are rescued, Treasure is merely taken. Treasure is to be defended only to the extent it's convient, the Prince has no moral duties to the Treasure like he does to the Princess. Treasure is something to be used (mostly by the Prince but sometimes also by the Princess) and then discarded when it has outlived its usefulness. The name is rather ironic, because Treasure is not in fact treasured.

So how does this fairytale relate to the household? In Hortense Spillers' absolutely excellent essay "Mama's Baby, Papa's Maybe: An American Grammar Book," she presents an analysis of the gender that enslaved black women experienced. Although slave communities certainly developed kinship groups, i.e. households, these did not resemble the white households with the Mother and Father - and these black women certainly did not receive the "benefits of a patriarchilized female gender." Spillers describes this as a "degendering" of black women, but I wanted to interpret it differently, as the assignment and not the removal of a gender. So these four genders represent, roughly, the white man who owns the plantation, his white wife, the male slaves he fears an uprising from, and the female slaves he both works and rapes. In 2024 these relations have decreased in intensity, but are absolutely still there, and I hope this model captures the essence of that relation that has managed to survive until present day. However, I think this model is also applicable outside just white-black gender relations, and I'll give examples as I go over the genders in individual detail.

The Prince

The Prince is very close to the 2-gender notion of "man," and is usually a "he." The Prince is sort of the default, the "unmarked" category, the protagonist and therefore the least interesting. The expectations on Princes are just to slay Monsters and protect Princesses. However, the choice of Prince defines which household it is we're talking about. Since we're defining gender relative to households, different households in different cultures can assign the different genders to the same individual (more on this when we get to Monsters). The clearest examples of Princes in a given society are going to be the high-class men. The Prince is the Family Man, the Gentleman, etc.

The Princess

The Princess is, correspondingly, close to the 2-gender "woman," and is usually "she." However, if we view the autonomy-for-protection trade as the essence of Princesshood, then children are also Princesses in our culture. And like for Princes, the clearest examples of Princesses are high-class women - in the US in the 60s, for example, housewives are "more Princess" than working women. Princesses are proper victims - they are the people who have claim to "innocence", and any wrong against them must be punished. The Princess is the Proper Lady, the Good Wife and the Good Mother.

The Monster

The Monster is the dangerous Other. I like "Monster" as a term specifically because of its gender ambiguity - there's many male monsters in fiction, but also the notion of (and theory about) the "monstrous feminine," e.g. witches. Monsters can be aiming to kill, or kidnap, or rape, or more nebulously "corrupt" Princesses - they're Monsters all the same. Monsters can also pose a threat to the Prince or not, but it's not particularly relevant either way.

"Monstering" is classically done along race lines - Black "superpredators," Latin American immigrants "bringing crime," Yellow Peril, or the recent false accusation against Hamas of mass rape. However, it works with any type of foreign-ness/Other-ness/outside threat even without race, as in the anti-German WW1 poster above. Monstering is also used at home, e.g. against queerness - the constant accusations of pedophilia against queer people of all stripes, the "predatory lesbian," and the gay and trans panic legal defenses (which are some of the most revealing examples of what Monstering really is - an accusation in order to justify unlimited violence). The Monstrous feminine is understood in this framework as women who refuse to be Princesses or Treasure, and are therefore called witches, baby-killers, etc. Finally, I feel like I'm seeing an increase in placing mad people as Monsters - we know racism and homophobia are bad now, so tiktok instead embraces the dark triad and the view that there are certain types of people - narcissists, psychopaths, BPDemons, etc. - who are inherently dangerous and evil, who are Monsters. There are no longer any visual markers of Monstrosity - it could be anyone, so watch out, stay scared, and keep doing all that shit about marking your car so human traffickers don't target you.

The Treasure

The Treasure is the Other defanged and brought into the household to be used - a human with no rights, who others owe no duties to. The pronoun for Treasure is "it." I get the alternate name "Trash" from Porpentine Charity Heartscape's Hot Allostatic Load. She describes Trash as "the hyper-marginalized among the marginalized, the Omelas kids, the marked for death." Morphodyke on tumblr (screenshot for non-tumblrinas) describes the Trashing of transfems as "a systematic pattern of abuse applied to a small sacrificial portion of the population to create a class of women with no claim to community or personhood, who will never be defended or avenged, who can be safely sunk into the attrition of patriarchy's darker desires." Trash is the most materially straightforward gender - it is made up of people who are so marginalized - so close to social death or so unable to independently get the physical resources needed for survival - that they have no choice but to do whatever more-privileged people (i.e. Princes and Princesses) ask of them.

Unlike Monster, Treasure is an actual role people play, and generally with some level of awareness that that's what they are. The Treasure is part of the household - as a slave, a servant, a whore. Nobody is afraid of Treasure. A Treasure can never be considered a "victim" either - it was not innocent to begin with; when something bad happens to it, it had no right to expect better. The gendered expectation of Treasure is complete, unconditional meekness and obedience, and any deviation is harshly punished. This punishment includes both straightforward social & physical violence, but also, in the extreme, Monstering the Treasure, i.e. turning them into the type of Monster who is a Monster everywhere. This is the only place a Treasure "has left to fall," but it's quite a long fall, and so the Treasure endures its harsh role in order to avoid that fall.

Examples of Treasure are less straightforward than for other genders - survival sex workers and black women are the only groups that comes to mind as near-uniformly Treasure, and for the latter it's becoming less and less universal as the economic position of black people in the US improves. Many trans women are Treasure, and in general the more axes someone is marginalized along, the more likely they are to be Treasure - a poor disabled black trans lesbian is almost certainly going to be Treasure, even if none of those categories on their own are more than 50% Treasure. Another factor is the degree to which someone is the odd one out, the potential outcast, within their community - the only person of color or gay kid in a small town (or highschool). Also, as Monsters are associated with madness, so is Treasure with "mental illness" - the "broken" person who directs it all inward, who has no self-worth [2], who accepts whatever their partner does because they've been told nobody else could ever love them.

Pairs

I think terms in a system are best defined by their contrast with other terms, so here's a rundown through all the pairs and their differences and relations.

Prince-Princess

This relationship is the most well-tread ground. Most white feminist theory and praxis is focused on the dynamics between Princes and Princesses, and trying to improve the lot of Princesses. This has worked to the extent that the dramatic protector-protected dynamic I described above seems hyperbolic when compared to real relationships in 2024. Still, I focus on that specific aspect, protector-protected, because I think it is at the heart of the "contract" of heterosexual relationships. The idea of a strong woman who can protect herself is getting more and more popular, but even still I have yet to see a man in real life or fiction say he wants a wife who can protect him. This notion of victimhood and protection is what animates the entire narrative.

One aspect of this protection that I want to stress is that it is specifically protection from Monsters. While we now (hopefully) think of the wifebeater as a type of Monster disguised as a Prince, that is a very recent change brought about by feminist activism, and it still remains a fact that abusers are not social outcasts or psychopaths, but perfectly normal and well-adjusted Princes. The historical definition of rape provides the clearest example of this: the notion that a husband can rape his wife, i.e. that marital rape is rape, is very new. When your grandparents got married, your grandfather having sex with your grandmother against her will would not have been considered "rape" or any other type of legal or social crime[3]. Rape has been considered a crime historically not because it is nonconsensual sex - that is allowed for the Prince! - but because it is a Monster taking what should belong to the Prince. Rape is something exclusively done by Monsters to Princesses.

Prince-Monster

In the types of wars, the narrative that "the enemy is coming to take our gold and rape our Princesses" was often quite true, as wartime sexual violence was quite common historically (the word "rape" was originally a synonym for "pillage"). However, this narrative would be true on both sides of the war. In Greek society, the Greeks would be Princes and the Trojans were Monsters, and vice versa in Troy. And both sides would be using rape as a weapon of war, but from e.g. the Greek standpoint, the Trojan women were Treasure, and so nothing a Greek/Prince did to them would demean his Princely honor in any way. However, the same behavior from the Trojans/Monsters towards the Princesses of Greece was exactly what justified calling them Monsters. The difference between Princes and Monsters is not in what acts of violence they commit, but who they are violent towards[4].

Prince-Treasure

As we have established, Princes may do whatever they want to Treasure, and suffer no consequences for it. The only thing I have to add is how it can make a Treasure come to function as a sort of "laboratory." Treasure has a body like that of a Prince or Princess, but it doesn't have the rights they do, it isn't owed any dignity. Therefore, questions/experiments which would be too rude or violative for a Prince to ask/do to a Princess may be answered on Treasure. This applies to both adolescents learning about sexuality and to adults working in biology labs. For the latter, think of Josef Mengele or Henrietta Lacks.

Princess-Monster

The Monster aims to take or corrupt the Princess - Princesses are always victims, and Monsters are always perpetrators. This is the social fiction woven by gender, and has no relation to what people who are Monsters actually do to people who are Princesses. Rather, the justice systems built on the narrative of protecting Princesses from Monsters are social systems enabling Princesses to persecute Monsters. The archetypical example of this is the murder of Emmett Till - a single Princess's accusation of whistling "justified" the torture and murder of a 14-year-old boy. White women's tears - i.e. Princesses' tears - should be considered an offensive and not a defensive weapon (although not one that can be turned against Princes).

Princess-Treasure

The difference between Princesses and Treasure is rather similar to the classic Madonna-whore divide, the good wife vs the whore on the side. This can lead to the Madonna-whore complex when combined with the societal view of sex as "violation" or "dirtying" - Princes are only allowed to inflict violence upon Treasure, not on Princesses, and so if sex is a kind of violence then the Prince will only be able to get it up for Treasure and not for his lovely Princess wife. Even if not to the point of a "complex," the Prince will always have sides of himself that he only shows to Treasure, because he needs to charm the Princess, to be nice to her, to treat her right. Only with a Treasure can he vent his "darker desires," and act without pretense or restraint.

Transitioning from Treasure to Princess is possible, and I think it can be one thing what people can mean when they say they find femininity empowering. In the two-gender model, this makes no sense, as femininity = woman = disempowered gender. But with four genders, Princesses are genuinely more powerful than Treasure - they have rights and powers that Treasure does not. To transition from Treasure to Princess is to assert that you have worth and to demand rights, dignity, and respect. Therefore, if being feminine lets someone move from Treasure to Princess, then their femininity is empowering them. And I think femininity is a part of that Treasure-to-Princess transition, e.g. becoming a "proper lady" instead of a "tramp," or trans women being able to pass.

The relationship between a Princess and a Treasure in the same household is the most interesting and novel part of this entire model. In "Mama's Baby, Papa's Maybe," Spillers analyzes a section from the autobiographical slave narrative Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Harriet Jacobs (writing under the pseudonym Linda Brent). During the section in question, Jacobs is regularly being raped by her "master," which arouses the jealousy of his wife. That wife then proceeds to rape Jacobs herself (probably, anything in this book about sex is highly subtextual because it was published in 1861). To quote Spillers' analysis at length (emphasis mine):

If the testimony of Linda Brent/Harriet Jacobs is to be believed, the official mistresses of slavery's "masters" constitute a privileged class of the tormented, if such contradiction can be entertained [Brent 29-35]. Linda Brent/Harriet Jacobs recounts in the course of her narrative scenes from a "psychodrama," opposing herself and "Mrs. Flint," in what we have come to consider the classic alignment between captive woman and free. Suspecting that her husband, Dr. Flint, has sexual designs on the young Linda (and the doctor is nearly humorously incompetent at it, according to the story line), Mrs. Flint assumes the role of a perambulatory nightmare who visits the captive woman in the spirit of a veiled seduction. ... Mrs. Flint enacts a male alibi and prosthetic motion that is mobilized at night, at the material place of the dream work. In both male and female instances, the subject attempts to inculcate his or her will into the vulnerable, supine body. Though this is barely hinted on the surface of the text, we might say that Brent, between the lines of her narrative, demarcates a sexuality that is neuter-bound, inasmuch as it represents an open vulnerability to a gigantic sexualized repertoire that may be alternately expressed as male/female. Since the gendered female exists for the male, we might suggest that the ungendered female—in an amazing stroke of pansexual potential—might be invaded/raided by another woman or man.

In the terminology of this essay, that final line would be "Since the Princess exists for the Prince, we might suggest that the Treasure—in an amazing stroke of pansexual potential—might be invaded/raided by a Princess or Prince." In short, Princesses can and do "use" Treasure like a Prince would: to vent frustrations, to use as a laboratory, to express "darker desires." A lot of things people ascribe to "the weak finding someone weaker to pick on" is Princess-on-Treasure violence. There is also a unique form of violence that only Princesses can do to Treasure - they can turn the Treasure into a Monster. Princess tears can be weaponized against both Monsters and Treasure, and Princesses can gain social capital by doing so: every time a Princess makes an accusation she emphasizes her own perpetual innocence and victimhood. By doing so she is conforming to the expectations of her gender, and is rewarded for that.

Monster-Treasure

As mentioned above, the boundary between Monsters and Treasure is the most fluid of the six pairs. The type of Trashing abuse described in Hot Allostatic Load (false accusations of rape) is a method of turning a Treasure into a Monster, and therefore justifying any possible violence as punishment (in the case of HAL, the specific punishment is exile). People who are "Monstered" in this manner are not like the Monsters of symmetric warfare, who are Princes in their own realms: they are Monsters everywhere, accepted nowhere, part of no household. This is just about the only position worse than Treasure, and so the threat of being sent there is the ultimate weapon for Princes and Princesses to discipline Treasure with.

As far as the actual relationship between Monsters and Treasure goes, it could be just about anything depending on the particular people or groups in question. It's not really of any concern to Princes or Princesses (except maybe to make some "look how these savages treat their women" anti-Monster propaganda), and so it's not constrained by this model. In the symmetric warfare example, the prisoners of war one side takes as Treasure from the Monsters they slay would be Princesses in the society where those Monsters are Princes. Or in a more "inter-imperialist" type of war, both the Princes and the Monsters could be fighting over who gets to own the same group of people as Treasure. Or there could be no relation at all - there aren't really any social forces determining what the relationship between a CPC member in Xi'an and a trans woman in Nebraska would be. This is not an exhaustive list, and there's even the possibility that both the Monster and Treasure in question belong to a society which doesn't fit the 4-gender model at all.

Conclusions

Unlike other models of gender, which aim to present something everyone can see themselves in, this is a model that everyone should be trying to get the hell out of. I'm a gender abolitionist - I think that doing something "because I'm a man/woman/Prince/etc." is silly and bad-faith; I think that we should raise all children the same way and that doing so will eliminate gender; I think we should end the practice of sex assignment at birth (or at any time). This model's pessimistic view of genders certainly reflects that, but I hope that you also find it helps explain your experiences a bit better. And of course, abolishing a system requires organizing within its categories (we do not end capitalism by just not identifying as proletarians).

Aiding that organizing was another main goal of this model - specifically, I think it explains the problem where feminism became dominated by rich white women and started catering towards their problems: "women" is not a single coherent gender, and the "women's liberation movement" was in fact a Treasure-Princess alliance. This alliance, like all alliances between distinct groups, fell apart once its parties had finished accomplishing their shared goals, and then the more powerful group turned on the weaker one. Alliances aren't inherently bad, and I think there's still a future for Treasure-Princess alliances, but Treasure organizers must make these alliances consciously, and be aware of the risks.

footnotes

This is not to say that class is homogenous within a household. For example, while a feudal lord's manor is certainly a lordly household, the majority of its inhabitants are going to be low-class servants.

Materialist Antipsychiatry Moment: rather than viewing this lack of self-worth as some internal illness/pathology/lack, we can see that for Treasure it is an accurate assessment of their social reality: they do in fact have no social worth. The Treasure-mental illness relation is cyclical: mental illness further marginalizes the Treasure, and being treated as Treasure makes them more "ill."

Unless they lived in the USSR, which criminalized marital rape within 5 years of its establishment - common communism W. You can play a ""fun"" game by checking on wikipedia to see when marital rape was criminalized where you live - it's probably shockingly recent

Of course Monsters are not actually violent in all cases, especially when they're an internal minority. In fact, symmetrical warfare is basically the only case where the accusations happen to be true. Still, the subject of the fabricated violence matters more than the content.

Special thanks to Jez and Nat for helping me think all of this through!

this post is also on the web at https://pi.alla.loan/gender/4genders.html for easy sharing with non-tumblrinas

[marsixm]

its so wild theres this older white lady on this season of big brother who will like get in these blow ups, call people names, be really awful and nasty, and then turn around and cry like a baby whenever she's now in trouble, and making everyone else out to be a villain targetting her, getting paranoid, referring to a tense conversation as a 'traumatizing violent attack' type of shit and some fans are like yay fun house chaos and the houseguests are like well we still love her and im like damn one mans toxic living situation trash is another mans fun summer treasure i guess

[tothefiniteyou]

For your TMNT writing requests: I know this is extremely vague (lmk if too vague), but maybe something about 2012 Raph and Mikey's respective relationships with anger? Feeling it Too Much vs (per the anger aspect in Mikey's head's comment) trying Not To Feel It? It seems like two opposite, generally valid philosophies taken to unhealthy extremes. Maybe where they clash over their responses to a situation because of it? Based on some of your analysis on Raph I'd LOVE to see your take.

Not vague at all!! In fact, I got so so excited seeing this in my inbox that I got to work immediately. Mikey's anger has always been so interesting to me, so thank you very much for the fun prompt! Not sure this is exactly what you were looking for (and it accidentally ended up being more Mikey angst than intended), but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless!

AO3

When Mikey was younger, it was always him that broke his toys and things. From crayons, to markers, to old plastic telephones on wheels, to toy cars and all of the above. Broken to pieces beyond repair and always adding up to numbers bigger than two. You’d expect it to be Raph to have the worst reputation of them all because, c’mon. It was Raph – the angry one that didn’t know delicacy if it hit him in the face. All scowls and growls, stomping around the Lair as if he owned the place. 

At least, that’s what most would think. And like, sure, Mikey has always been considered clumsy and reckless. They were practically defining traits of his, so maybe it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone when they learned that he could never quite keep his things intact. But still — beating out Raph? That got a few wide eyes and encouragement to elaborate. Not that there was really much to tell, honestly. Raph had always treated what was his as something precious and worth protecting. He understood the fact that they didn’t have much, so he clung tight and treated things like porcelain glass. 

It was something Mikey envied him for. 

See, while Raph’s anger has always been explosive and the crutch that supports him, there were patterns to it. It appeared when he felt like his efforts were in vain, or if something threatened what he held close. His freedom was like that as well. He hated being confined to a single space for long, getting cagey and angry without even realizing it. 

There were times where it seemed like he would get close to breaking something, yet he never did. It was always a wailing Mikey that did, blubbering about something or other as someone — usually their father — surveyed the damage. 

Everyone assumed all the broken toys in their unsightly piles were the result of his own clumsiness, and some were. He was the happy baby to complement the adventurous one, the genius one, and the grumpy one; the baby that needed extra attention. 

They were all a handful, and in terms of trouble and emotional outbursts, Mikey would probably be placed right beside his sai-wielding brother. 

And yet. 

Sitting here, bandaging up his brother’s knuckles because the others are out and Raph can't be trusted with his own injuries when still fuming, he still finds it within himself to feed that little green monster. One man's trash is another man's treasure. 

The whole night is admittedly a bit of a blur. It was supposed to be a rather typical patrol, but ya know. Things never quite went the way they were supposed to, no matter how much Leo tried to think up every little possibility, his worries and their burdens isolating his focus. He was always thinking, thinking, thinking. Mikey often wonders how that head of his managed to hold so many thoughts all the time. It’s something that’s only gotten worse, his words sometimes coming out harsher than he intends. But that was just Leo for you — hurting when protecting, sheepishly apologizing when called out for it. He was still a softie deep down, finding his footing when it came to this whole hero thing, and that wouldn’t change. 

Now, if only Raph could understand that as easily. If only his anger wasn't like a tidal wave coursing through his head. 

And like. The whole thing is stupid, and all Mikey wants to do is knock both of their heads against each other. Maybe if he goes at it hard enough, they’ll finally be able to listen to each other and stop being so pigheaded. They’re fighting over the same freaking thing, how do they not realize that? It’s painful moving around in circles when they’re both stubborn idiots and two sides of the same coin. It’s plain as day for him to see, so he wonders why Raph’s emotions never seem to get the memo. 

But Mikey’s never been much of a Leo or a Donnie, so he bites his tongue for now. Scathing, firework anger is Donnie's thing, fizzling out after exploding and getting a chance to breathe. And Leo's anger is like a starving alley cat; it runs almost entirely off of what he's given. Mikey, on the other hand, has anger that's easy to wave off, and that's why he keeps quiet. 

He’s never been good at it, but he can sure as hell try when he’s expected to play nursemaid. After all, Raph comes to him to rant about stuff like this because he figures Mikey’s different enough from him that he’ll get it somehow. He’s really not too sure where the logic is, but Mikey’s the Not Mad one, right? So all of his brothers tend to unload their messes and grievances onto him because it’s safer. More contained.

The taste of his tongue is rather bitter. 

“-if he would just let me go do my thing with Case more often, this wouldn't even be a problem. God, he's been so annoying lately. Surely you're angry, too, right Mikey? I mean, the guy's been taking away your free time all because of a little gut feeling that's wrong half the time.”

And the thing is: Mikey is mad. Just not in the way Raph's trying to goad him into feeling. He's stewing in a whole pool of burning feelings that wouldn't help anyone right now. Even Mikey can recognize that. 

Still. Broken toys or broken knuckles — they get the same treatment. 

“You need to lay off, Raph. You acting out like this only makes it worse. Sneaking away while we’re out when there was a wave of crime and you were asked to go back home? Not cool, man. Not cool. You're lucky Leo asked me to stay home in case you came back, or else you'd be bleeding all over the place and that's gross. We don't need more Raph germs griming the place up.”

“Zip it, Mikey,” Raph hisses out between clenched teeth. There’s quite a bit of blood staining the bandages. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.” 

“Ignoring the fact that you did, you don’t gotta act like an asshole. Not to Leo for trying his best. Not to Donnie for siding with him. And not to me for giving you my input. I am the one treating your hands right now, so pick your words carefully before I do something we’ll both regret.”

His threats are normally more playful in nature, having that edge of little brother annoyingness that makes it easy to tell he’s just messing around. He knows Raph’s biting words weren’t real but rather a defense right now. His anger is the one in control, snapping its teeth at anything, no matter if it is friend or foe. He’ll cool off in a bit and things will be chill again. So there’s absolutely no reason for Mikey to smile so tensely as he says the words, all uncanny valley. Just short enough of his usual that Raph actually goes a bit silent, raising an eyeridge and eyeing him critically. As if Mikey was the one injured. 

He bet his older brother doesn’t even realize how much he looks like Leo right now. Or their father. 

Mikey’s not like Raph. He won’t lose this fight no matter how much he wants to blow up and shake his brother by the shoulders until he understands why Mikey’s feeling the way he is right now. Anger doesn’t help. Master Splinter had drilled that into their heads from when they were small and it became apparent that it was something Raph struggled with. Mikey’s got this. He can totalllly explain himself in a calm manner. Yep. 

“Why are you so mad? I’m the one with the busted hand and lip.”

“I’m not mad,” Mikey says in a clipped voice that doesn’t sound too convincing even to himself. He’s trying for one of those jokester smiles, but something must not be right, because all it manages to do is make Raph furrow his brothers even further. What did Leo and Donnie call this? Damage control? But Mikey’s used to breaking things. He and Raph are similar like that, even if the things they break are total opposites. 

Tighter. Tighter and tighter he’s pulling the bandages, his teeth flashing in warning. He’s been worried sick about his missing brother for hours, and this was the thanks he got? Okay, dude. Sure. He hadn’t been expecting the red carpet or anything, but a consolation prize would’ve done. It was only fair for wandering from room to room, all jittery fingers and feet, all alone and unsure who would be getting back first, and how. Crime didn’t care for feelings. 

This behavior was childish and unbefitting of the progress they had all tried to make. But hurt feelings are a wounded beast of their own, and wounded beasts attacked. It’s something Mikey knew well from all the stray cats he’s tried to pet. Or keep. If anyone asked, it was Ice Cream Kitty that wanted the extra friend, so it was all her idea. 

Anyway, the point was that Mikey got it. Raph’s never been too good at the whole caring things, with the farmhouse era of their life being some of the best of the best. He’s concerned right now and doesn’t know what to do. Anger’s easiest to call upon for Raph. 

“Leo will be fine, you big worrywart. Big ultra supreme deluxe softie. I know you’re worried about his whole… I don’t know what you’d call it. Some big word that Donnie would probably know. But he has us,” a flickered gaze down at Raph’s still bleeding knuckles, “and so he’ll be okay.” 

The words between the lines are spelt out clearly despite Mikey’s horrendous handwriting (something his brothers never fail to remind him of). It’s an olive branch of sorts, or whatever Leo would say. Really, Mikey’s doing his best to come back to WWLD (What Would Leo Do) for every word out of his mouth. Ironic that it makes Raph go still, but then again, Leo was always Splinter Jr. Awkwardly copying all that he could. 

“This is you telling me to get a grip, isn’t it?” Raph asks, a small smile ghosting his face. 

“Yeuuup,” Mikey says, popping the ‘p’ in that obnoxious way that always got on his brothers’ nerves. What are little brothers for? 

The wound all taken care of, Mikey gets up from his knees, joints groaning and bellyaching the whole way. One quick twist and his hips join them, cracking in a way that gets Raph’s beak wrinkling. Good. It means Mikey’s got his attention for a little while longer. 

He stalks closer, all unassuming smiles as he closes his eyes. Then he’s jabbing his brother in the shell. Hard. Right over the part that looks a little beaten. “If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will kill you. You don’t get to act all moody for the past few days and then make it everyone else’s problem. You don’t get to throw hissy fits that can put Casey in danger as well. He’s getting better, I’ll give him that, but he doesn’t need your encouragement. So stop belittling Donnie and calling him a yes-man when you really mean to say that he’s allowed to voice his own concerns and complaints. Don’t snap back at Leo and try and get a rise out of him when you really mean to tell him that he should sleep so he doesn’t look like a corpse. And don’t.”

He jabs even harder. By now he’s gotten worked up to the point of yelling, wanting his brother to just understand. He’s being a hypocrite and he knows it, because while all of this rage is real, it’s more just a front for the worry and grief he felt for the past few hours. But his anger’s always been so big, resulting in more broken toys than he knew what to do with. 

“Do not — and I really mean it, Raph — do not blame yourself and think that all of this is the best solution for your anger. That somehow putting yourself in stupid situations will make you any less angry. We all know you don’t mean it, that you’re more than an angry face. You’re our brother and you should value yourself like it. ‘Cause dude? This might kill you, and none of us want that. That’s–” 

Arms wrap around him, crushing and grounding. He knows that he’s gotta be shaking in barely contained emotions right now, but he can hardly tell over the rush of blood in his head. Over the scalding hot anger that he’s always tried so hard to keep a handle on. Everyone had decided that anger didn’t suit him, so he naturally knew that that had to be right. His family was always smarter than him, so surely they had to be right about this. It made him feel icky and all sorts of bad. He was a child at his core apparently, so maybe that’s why it felt so bad. But then again, maybe that’s why it was so grand as well. Little kids were always throwing tantrums. Heh. 

“–that’s why I’m angry,” he finally finishes, swallowing back a whole sea of pure feelings. He wants to wrap his arms around and hug back, but he’s just so bitter. This is how Raph must always feel. The little green monster is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Feeling like this isn’t enviable, and he knows that Raph must also be the same as him — envying the control he’s always shown over his anger. And yeah, that sucks. It sucks for both of them that they might never get past it. 

Raph will still have to deal with sudden anger that makes him say things he regrets, growing angrier when the firework is a dud and the stray cat doesn’t accept his offering. He’ll turn it towards himself, leaving and making everyone worried sick as he tries to tame his emotions by himself in a way that only leads to hurt. 

But they’re both growing, a murmured apology that Mikey barely catches whispered in the dead silence. His hold is strong and warm, sure of itself as he makes a promise to put an end to this. He’ll do better, he reassures, telling Mikey that it’s okay for him to be angry, that he had been a fool. 

The beast with festering wounds of Mikey’s eventually draws back, resting in its eternal place of rest. It’s not gone, but somehow it does feel a little smaller. Just a little. 

Soon enough his brothers are all there, safe and sound. They have ups and downs, all feelings chained and free depending on the day. They’re struggling to find what the new normal should be and the most suitable roles for themselves. And maybe anger never will suit Mikey, but that’s okay. Anger doesn’t help, but what good does holding it back do? Little by little, it’ll come spilling out. He can be angry. He’s allowed that much. To this, they’re all the same. The anger can seem neverending, but the crash will always follow, heartfelt apologies given and accepted.

[rachelbethhines]

Speed-running Doctor Who - 11th Doctor

A quick and dirty guide for those who want to get into the show, but don't want to watch everything from the beginning.

For Those Who Just Wanna Get An Idea of the Era

A Christmas Carol - 2010 Xmas Special

Timey Whimey, fairy-tale like, charming, doesn't make a lick of sense, messes with established continuity, and accidentally makes the Doctor into a unrepentant mega arsehole. All while boasting scrumptious design and bedazzling direction. It's style over substance, which is basically the Eleventh Doctor's era in a nut shell.

Plot Important Episodes

Entrances, Exits, Enemies, Lore Drops, and Character Development

The Eleventh Hour - S31E1 (Eleventh Doctor's first episode; introduces Amy and Rory, kicks off the Silence arc)

The Beast Below - S31E2 (Amy's first trip in the Tardis, re-establishes the shows premise)

The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone - S31E4&5 (reintroduces River Song and the Weeping Angels)

The Vampires of Venice - S31E6 (Rory's first trip in an the Tardis and more development of the Silence arc)

Amy's Choice - S31E7 (character development for Amy and the Doctor)

The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood - S31E8&E9 (reintroduces the Silurians and Rory goes missing for awhile)

Vincent and the Doctor - S31E10 (fallout from the events of the previous story/character development for Amy)

The Lodger - S31E11 (Meet Craig! Also foreshadowing for events in the season 32)

The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang - S31E12&E13 (season finale, ending of the first half of the Silence arc, Rory returns, we have Amy and Rory's wedding at the end)

The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon - S31E1&E2 (kicks off the River Song/kidnapped baby arc, starts the second half of the Silence arc)

The Curse of the Black Spot - S32E3 (Captain Avery and his son will be important during the mid-season finale)

The Doctor's Wife - S32E4 (The Tardis becomes a human)

The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People - S32E5&E6 (we find out Amy is pregnant and then she gets kidnapped)

A Good Man Goes to War - S32E7 (mid-season finale, the Doctor and Rory rescue Amy, Amy gives birth to her and Rory's daughter Melody, Melody then gets kidnapped, first appearance of the Paternoster Gang)

Let's Kill Hitler - S32E8 (we find out that River Song is Amy and Rory's long lost daughter Melody, thus ending the kidnapped arc.)

Closing Time - S32E12 (Craig returns!!!)

The Wedding of River Song - S32E13 (The Doctor and River get officially married and we pretty much end the Silence arc)

Asylum of the Daleks - S33E1 (There's some drama about Amy and Rory getting a divorce but it's resolved by the end. Also we meet Clara for the first time)

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship - S33E2 (Rory's father, Brian, is introduced)

The Power of Three - S33E4 (character development for the mains, the return of UNIT and we meet Kate Stewart)

The Angels Take Manhattan - S33E5 (Amy and Rory's last episode)

The Snowmen - 2012 Xmas Special (we meet Clara again and kick off both the impossible girl arc and the great intelligence returns)

The Bells of Saint John - S33E6 (Clara joins the tardis officially and we get more development of the various arcs)

The Rings of Akhaten - S33E7 (Clara's first trip in the Tardis and we get some of her backstory)

Cold War - S33E8 (The Ice Warriors return)

The Crimson Horror - S33E11 (Clara officially meets the Paternoster Gang)

The Name of the Doctor - S33E12 (the end of the impossible girl arc and the great intelligence arc, we find out about the War Doctor for the first time)

The Day of the Doctor - 50th Anniversary Special (fourth multi-doctor story and the end of the Time War arc)

The Time of the Doctor - 2013 Xmas Special (The Eleventh Doctor's last story)

Personal Favorite and Least Favorite Stories

Because one man's trash is another man's treasure and vice versa

Favorite: The God Complex -S32E11

Least Favorite: Let's Kill Hitler - S32E8

(disclaimer: no spin-offs or extended universe stuff was considered when making this list)

Next Up: 12th Doctor

[blorbologist]

I posted 15,721 times in 2022

That's 9,329 more posts than 2021!

341 posts created (2%)

15,380 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@orahnay

@cryptidfucky

@vrajeli

@katia-dreamer

@angry-velociraptor

I tagged 1,635 of my posts in 2022

#critical role spoilers - 486 posts

#cr spoilers - 476 posts

#critical role - 434 posts

#critrole spoilers - 239 posts

#perc'ahlia - 117 posts

#vex'ahlia - 103 posts

#percahlia - 99 posts

#critical role fanfiction - 96 posts

#cr vex - 90 posts

#cr fanfic - 88 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#percy one night wakes up in a cold sweat 'dear our baby was a bird egg for. a time. will that impact development?' 'percival go to sleep pls

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I'm having thoughts about Ashton and Fearne's relationship. Platonic or romantic I don't mind either, I just.

Fearne. Fearne who Morri taken a shine to. Fearne, she was collected, traded for a favor, given, kept, kept, kept, like a toy. A thing, a thing - yes her parents love her yes they'd give her the moon (hah!) but she's a precious thing to them, a six year old, a child but without any of the budding autonomy of one, talked about with the same fond possessiveness as a pet. All the language surounding her treats her as an object - it certainly sheds some light on how she views her relationships. She was loved, yes, but loved enough to be *worth* something when traded, loved enough to be hoarded by Morri.

Ashton, who was a Nobody and then nobody to the Nobodies, who left him for dead, who potentially even set him up??? (I've seen some mutterings about that). Ashton who was an unwanted orphan, a Greymoore, one body among the masses, nobody important to anyone (bar Milo and FCG). Ashton who is one man's trash, another man's treasure - broken but gilded.

And what do they do?

They steal from eachother.

"Fuck you, you're someone, because a thing can't have things and I want your things. You're a cunning foe in this game of ours, you're fun to play with, fuck you, you can't say steal from a toy. It's only fun taking things because they're owned by you," says Ashton.

"You're worth taking from, you're worth the game, you're someone I want to interact with. I'll watch you sleep, I'll look into your head like you matter. You're some*body* and you have some *things* and I'll keep coming back to you," says Fearne.

"I'll steal you," they both say. "You're worth stealing, but only because it’s you, and I care about you."

1,126 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

#4

“I’VE SEEN LIGHTIN’ SPLIT TREES BEFORE”

“I’m gonna lightningbolt the tree trunk so I can split it right down the middle and make the two halves crash down“

MY GAYS SHE DID IT THE SYMBOLISM THE POETRY 

IMOGEN SO TIED TO LIGHTNING AND STORMS SPLITTING THE SUN TREE, THE TREE FROM WHICH LAUDNAS BODY HUNG, CLEAN IN TWO. EYES FLASHING WHITE NOT RED. IMOGEN NOT RUIDUS.

ALSO LAURA BAILEY RIGHTS TO KILL BRIARWOODS TURN THEM INTO FUCKING KINDLING BABE!!

1,175 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

#3

You've seen Marisha on the table, NOW GET READY FOR

ERIKA ON THE TABLE

1,522 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#2

POV, you're the Briarwoods and the feast just got... interesting.

Jumping on the bandwagon and doing a redraw of this moment last episode because YEAH, the Twins + Percy vibes just jumped out. (There's no way Percy would be this chill but I wanted to draw them in the fancy outfits so! It be how it be :v)

1,756 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

SCREAMING CRYING THROWWING UPP

"The lord is in his office"

"Orym someone about your size is following you."

I BET THATS GWEN

See the full post

4,236 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lesbian-trash-panda]

I’m Riff Raff: Your standard, run-of-the-mill lesbian raccoon ✨media curator✨

I started this blog to share all the amazing art, stories, and creative stuff I’ve found while digging through the garbage heap we call life.

Lesbian Trash Panda is a personally-curated list of recommendations for creative works of various types - stories, art, media literacy tools, whatever. I sort media with a system I call the ✨Q Rating, which starts at A for Amazing and then gets trashier and gayer as it goes on. Nothing is “good” or “bad,” it’s all hits in different styles. My collection is ever-growing and includes the best trash and finest treasures I can find.

TLDR: I find and share my favourite art, stories, and educational materials, often with a sapphic bend. Follow me if you like that!

More Info

The ✨Q Rating System

Lesbian Trash Panda recommends stories using a classification system developed by our crack team of rodents, vermin, and trash media scientists - the ✨Q Rating (the sparkles are important):

A = Amazing! Awesome! Art! This is a treasure, I love this, it’s wonderful. It is also Family-friendly, though not necessarily family-friendly ;) Recommend!

A✨Q = Amazing & Queer! It means the work is all of the above, and is either told from a queer perspective or represents queerness somehow. Recommend!

AT = Amazing Trash! I love trash, and if you do too, check this out - it’s raw, rough, silly, fresh, and wonderful. Recommend!

A✨QT = Me ;) Ohoho just kidding! AQT stands for Amazing Queer Trash. This is a high honour bestowed upon only the campiest, cultiest, queerest classics. Proof that low art can also be great art. Recommend!

Content Warnings

If it has a ✨Q Rating it is by default queer/Family-friendly, though not necessarily family-friendly. Appropriate content warnings will be provided.

Isn’t it rude to call art trash?

If that’s what you’re trying to do. As a raccoon, I love trash. As an artist, I love making trash. As an art lover, I love enjoying trash. The only real trash is the kind that judges art solely based on its origin and aesthetic instead of its content

How do you distinguish between “trash” and “treasure”?

The difference between trash and treasure is perspective and time. They say one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, but all men’s trash is a raccoon’s treasure, as is the trash of all genders. And treasure can so easily become trash - look at Beanie Babies and NFTs. All treasure will, eventually, turn to trash, then dust, then stars, and then it will be treasure again

No I meant what’s the difference between trash and treasure for the ✨Q Rating system?

Right, sorry! Think of it like a rock collection - some rocks are cut and polished and set in nice frames, and some rocks are raw and rough and natural. Both can be magnificent and inspiring and fun to look at. I, personally, get the same enjoyment out of fine jewelry as I get from a cool rock I find on the beach - sometimes more! Yes, I also have a rock collection. Would you like to see my rock collection? No, stay on topic Riff Raff

Time and effort and money and technique aren’t quality. Quality is quality. But quality work is hard to do without time, effort, money, and technique. It is actually harder to make high quality low-budget work than high-quality high-budget work, and I want to celebrate people that make great “trash” art as well great treasure. Art from adversity is usually my favourite kind :)

Do you know about the malevolent conspiracy theorist that also uses that letter?

Yes, and fuck that anonymous sockpuppet account and its obvious propaganda campaign. No one owns a letter, it belongs to everyone. I use sparkles to differentiate, and also for ✨pizazz✨

If someone searches “q” and “media” and this blog comes up instead of something else, well - I’m happy to do my part to disrupt militarized misinformation campaigns.

Plus ✨Q Rate is too good of joke. I love it too much. No pun left behind!

Media Literacy Monday

Here at Lesbian Trash Panda, we love art, no matter the medium. We also understand that constructive criticism, critical thinking, and general media literacy are foundational to creating and enjoying art and staying safe in the digital age

Learning to ask critical questions and produce thoughtful answers about the media we consume is vital in combating militarized propaganda campaigns. As a member of a community that has historically been, and is currently, the subject of media attack campaigns leading to horrific real world atrocities, I take media education and its role in combating misinformation seriously. Fantasy is fun, but we shouldn’t forget to think about the trash we consume, lest fantasy turn into phantasm - anxious delusion.

Media Literacy Monday is a project to promote media literacy of all types. I have been working in writing and media production for over ten years - which is a long time for a raccoon! Just ask my human agent, who is a real human and definitely not a cluster of squirrels. I want to use this blog as a platform to promote great art and share what I think is great about it, from the perspective of someone who also makes cool things sometimes. Sometimes I may critique, analyzing for love and knowledge and love of knowledge.

I love stories, I love all the ways we tell them, and I love seeing queer people thrive. If you like that, stick around! Hope you enjoy your stay

Take care,

-Riff Raff, A✨QTP

[sciencestyled]

When Mother Nature Met Picasso: A Tale of Trash, Treasure, and Trippy Terrariums

Alright, class, buckle up and sip your overpriced, triple-shot, no-foam lattes because today we’re diving headfirst into the mad world of eco-art in environmental education. It’s like if Banksy and Bill Nye had a baby that was really into compost. Imagine turning your old, sad flip-flops and last year's iPhone into a modern masterpiece. It’s not crazy—it’s eco-art!

First off, let’s address the elephant in the room—or should I say, the recycled plastic elephant sculpture that’s currently residing in the middle of campus. This eco-art is not your grandma’s watercolor painting of the garden—unless your grandma is using biodegradable paint on fallen leaves. These artists are the MacGyvers of the art world, turning your discarded dental floss into highbrow cultural statements about decay and renewal. Seriously, one person's trash is another’s gallery feature.

Now, the whole shebang operates on the premise that if you teach a man to fish, he’ll eat for a day, but if you teach him to create an art installation from the fishing nets and plastic bottles he finds, suddenly, he’s got a sustainable business model and a feature on Vice. This is where environmental science moonwalks into art class and starts a conga line. We’re talking about projects that slap harder than a meme about Leonardo DiCaprio’s dating habits.

Consider this: someone figured out how to make gorgeous dyes from algae. Yeah, algae—the stuff you scraped off your roommate’s unwashed dishes. Now, it’s not just pond scum; it’s Pantone’s Color of the Year. And let’s not forget the sculptures in public parks made of recycled metals that look like something straight out of a Transformers movie. Instead of Optimus Prime saying, "Autobots, roll out," he’s probably like, "Recyclables, break down!"

These artworks are not only a treat for the eyes but also a nifty tool for education. Picture this: a school field trip to an art exhibit where the floor is literally lava—because the artist wants to talk about global warming. It’s a clever ruse to get kids to leap from tile to tile, dodging the ‘lava’ while learning about carbon footprints and renewable energy. They're literally jumping into action!

And for the interactive enthusiasts, imagine a VR experience where you can swim through the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. It’s like playing Subnautica, except it’s depressingly real and the sea creatures are judging you for your plastic use. This is how we turn apathetic Instagram scrollers into eco-warriors. They're not just double-tapping on nature pics; they're learning that every plastic straw could be the villain in a sea turtle’s survival story.

But let's zoom out for a moment. The big picture here is about merging science education and art to craft a narrative that sticks harder than the gum under your theater seat. It’s storytelling with a purpose. The same way Rick and Morty expose the absurdity of existence through burp-laden dialogues, eco-art exposes the absurdity of waste by making you stare at a chandelier made from beer bottles.

Now, if you think this all sounds a bit too idealistic, like believing you’ll actually use your gym membership, consider the alternative. A world where art is just pretty and doesn’t make you feel like you could be the hero in a Captain Planet reboot. Boring, right? So, we need this oddball fusion of creativity and environmental savvy.

So next time you’re about to throw away your Starbucks cup, think: could this be part of a mosaic in a hip downtown gallery? Could my old textbooks become an installation about the death of print media, hauntingly lit in the corner of the library? The answer should be a resounding yes, louder than the sound of influencers finding a new trend to jump on.

And as we wrap this up, remember: eco-art isn’t just about making you feel guilty for your carbon footprint. It’s about seeing potential and beauty in the discarded, the overlooked, and the everyday. It’s a conversation starter, sitting you down at the cool kids’ table and whispering, “What if saving the world was just a matter of perspective?”

So, class, as we leave today, ask yourself: Is your next project just a class assignment, or is it the seed of an eco-art piece that’ll land you on the front page of Reddit? With a hot glue gun, a vision, and a weird amount of bottle caps, you could literally build a better tomorrow—or at least a killer art project.

There, lesson adjourned! Don’t forget to recycle your thoughts—and your coffee cups!

[voidselfshipp]

Goose gets bullied by everyone (with love)

Cw: swearing and Knife mention (literally its a sticker of a goose with a Knife in its beak)

Summary: goose is the victim of his girlfriends pranks in which the rest of his classmates are complicit.

A/n: saw top//gun, and I can safely say I had to write something for my boys.

->Only mutuals allowed to reblog.

->♡Lovely taglist: @tex-treasures @malewifehenrycooldown @mercuryships

Out of all the candidates, Jerico "Solar" Castro was by far the calmer of the most. She was quite tranquil and didnt cause that Many incidents as the rest of her classmates in the Top Gun academy.

But her tranquility was but a cover for the silent force of chaos within her. After all,nobody suspects the goody two shoes was the one hiding miniature goose figurines in Nick "goose" Bradshaw's room and locker. And no,the Irony did not escape her, it was the main reason she had done it.

And this little misadventure of hers has been going on for *months*. Just when Nick thought he had found them all, the world, or jerico's chaotic evil genius, would prove Jim wrong.

He was at his wits end as he opened his locker, pulling out his deodorant only to find a small goose figurine hidden behind it.

--ANOTHER FUCKING ONE?!--the Man yelled at the top of his lungs-- WHERE THE FUCK DO THEY KEEP COMING FROM?

When he found the first three some months ago, he was amused and even looked forward to finding the rest. Now he couldnt take it anymore.

At this, the other men in the locker room explode into loud cackling, leaning over walls and eachother. Everyone was in on It, maverick had helped jerico get Nick's locker Open, Hollywood and Wolfman had helped her put some in his flight suit, and even iceman who didnt stand Jerico accepted to help her hide them all over in Nick's room.

Nick was grasping at straws as he finished changing and getting out of the locker room. It was a warm sunny day in California, but he didnt mind. He was pissed off and annoyed, all he wanted was to cuddle up with his girlfriend and forget about the world for a while.

And he finds her, on her bed Reading a book while some soft tunes play from the radio. He opens the door and steps in,closing it behind him as the cold air of the AC (which,for the life of him, he didnt know how he convinced viper to let her have one) hit his face. Shes illuminated by nothing but one nightstand lamp, the warm light making her seem ethereal. The sight relaxes him a little,his jaw unclenches.

--Hey honey--Jerico says looking up from her book, marking it and closing it shut with a satisfying "plap"-- whats got you riled up?

Goose simply holds up yet another figurine,murder in his eyes. And though his lover's laughter was the sweetest thing hes ever heard, when she laughs at the goose mini in his hands he cant help but huff,throw it in the trash and plopping down ontop of his girlfriend as she leaves the book on the night stand, turning off the lamp ontop of it.

--Ya Keep findin 'em huh?-- She asked stroking his hair.

--I sweae,hon. They just keep appearin'. Its like its personal or somethin'-- He says,voice muffled by him pressing his face on her chest.

--i think ya gotta lean into it--Jeri replied closing her eyes and letting her head fall to the pillow.

--When I find whose behind it I swear--He starts. Unbeknownst to him, his girlfriend Holds back giggles as a smile appears on her lips.

--Yeah yeah youll make him pay, why dontcha rest with me for a while? What do you think, tough guy?

--I...Like that--Nick positions his head in a way that makes his ear press against his girlfriend's chest--Sweet dreams, baby

--Sweet dreams

Soon, he falls asleep to the sound of her heartbeat. Anger and stress melting away in his lovers arms.

For the Next two weeks he finds more and more of them. Behind his pillow, under his duffelbag, inside his nightstand cabinet... He even found one sitting on his tooth brush and another one right beside it on his toothpaste.

Nick had had enough, he was about to explode. Hes going on and on in this rant to all his classmates shouting at them to tell him who was the bastard that has been tormeting Him these past few months.

Jerico stepped infront of his lover. who upon meeting her gaze, he relaxes. She grabs his flaining hands and holds them to her lips,kissing his knuckles--Nick, darling

--Yes,sorry babe--He sighed.

--Im the one that hid them

His peace is short lived as his brain registers what she had said. His eyes go wide and his hands become fists--You've got to be kidding me

--Nope. I hid them with help from iceman, wolfman and Hollywood

Nico looks at the three men mentioned with murder in his eyes. Then he returns his gaze to his lover and says--Baby

--Yeah?

--Run.

Solar lets go of his hands and screams--OH CRAP! --And bolts out the room with a very angry Goose behind her, the rest of the men explode with laughter at the sight. And for a good hour and a half all that can be heard throughout the base is nicks unhinged feral screaming and jericos loud laughter.

"So worth it" she thought as Nick finally caught her and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatos--i regret nothing!

--You Will soon--He grumbled.

《♡♡♡♡♡♡♡》

You'd expect the attendees of Top Gun to be somewhat serious and adult. After all, they piloted expensive aircrafts and put their lives on the line.

But, when you put a bunch of twenty year olds in a base, some chaos is bound to happen.

Heres how jerico finds herself in this position.

Shes currently holding back laughter as she approaches a sleeping Nick. His mouth was Open and he was snoring, arms crossed over his chest and feet on a table. The rest of their classmates watch in pure amusement with held back laughter and quiet giggles as their female companion hovers over Nick with a goose sticker in her hand

--Everyone shut the fuck up youll wake him!--Wolfman whisper yelled from behind jeri as she peeled off the sticker.

--Shhh--Solar whispered, her hand Gently places the sticker on the Mans forehead and then throws back her hand to give him a good meaty slap on the sticker.

At the sound, which was comedically exact as the one you'd find in a cartoon, the other men present snort and wheeze. Maverick has tears in his eyes from holding back his laughter. And the only reaction from Nick is to sway his hand as if he was swatting away pesky flies.

Jerico squats down to the ground covering her face, muffling her laughter. --Fucking genius-- Hollywood compliments from behind patting her back-- this is gold

After taking a picture of jerico posing beside Nick while making the thumbs up with an impressed look on her face,mouth Open, everyome returns to their lives with more quiet giggles that turn into loud laughter once they fully leave the room.

Its not until some hours later that Goose wakes up, groggy and confused. And since he still feels like sleeping, he gets up from the chair and makes his way towards his girlfriend's room.

He stumbles upon viper,his supervisor. Viper looks at Nick and then at the sticker on his forehead,hes about to say something but decided against it. Choosing to say hi to Nick and Keep walking with a grin forming on his face alongside muffled giggles.

Confused,goose keeps walking. More and more people Keep laughing at him and no matter how Many times he asked people what was so funny,nobody would give him an answer.

And thats when he sees it.

In a reflection of a Window he sees the sticker on his forehead, a goose with a Knife in his beak. He already knows whose the culprit, and without peeling off the sticker he stomps towards his girlfriend's room with the war cry of --JERICO YOU GET YER ASS OVER HERE

And solar could hear her boyfriend very well, she turns to maverick and says--I think I should leave

--The country-- maverick says deadpan serious with his brows raised. and before she can laugh at his joke she sees Nick stomping quicker towards her now that hes seen her.

Its yet after another hour of chase and loud screaming that he finally catches her and makes her wear the sticker for the rest of the day.

Jerico didnt mind, specially as Nick held her from behind as they cuddled in her room. The lights are off and the blinds are drawn,the cole air is nice against their skin and under his breath goose mutters-- youre a menace

--And thats why you love me

He scoffs playfully in agreemet-- I love you too--pressing a kiss to the back of her neck,goose closed his eyes. Soon, he falls asleep with his girlfriend who is still wearing that stupid sticker on her forehead. No doubt that tomorrow she Will put that thing away in her Wallet as a wholesome reminder.