#sorry doing a please like me rewatch and i have a lot of feels

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

When You Get Sick Version 2

Version 1:

This fic would take place in the second part of the game after your first death, when you have to rewatch the tapes but they are slightly different the second time. 

A different puzzle this time, still the tape titled “When You Get Sick” pops out. Riley walks over to the TV and puts it in, curious what’s going to happen this time. 

“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!” Amanda beams, she is clearly healthy this time around. 

“And I’m *cough* Wooly.” Wooly says quietly. It appears that he is under the weather now.

“Uh-oh Wooly, that cough doesn’t sound good.” Amanda remarks, placing her hand on her cheek thoughtfully. 

“I’m fine Amanda… just announce the adventure okay?” 

“Alright, if you say so. Today we’re going to be-”

“ACHOO! Ah! I’m sorry, please continue.” Wooly uttered. Amanda looks at him with a mix of annoyance and worry. She waits. Wooly sneezes again. “I swear it’s just allergies, start the adventure already.” 

“Today we’re going to be taking care of Wooly!” 

“Wha-”

“It seems that Wooly got sick when he helped me get better earlier so this time it’s our turn to help him!” 

“Fine, you’re right. Maybe I am sick, but I’ll be fine. You can just go on your adventure. I'll stay here.”  

“But Wooly, that’s the theme of this adventure!” 

“Since when did you care about sticking to the script?” he snaps. Amanda looks at him with confusion. “*cough* sorry.” 

“But you took such good care of me before… and then you got sick because of it. The least I can do is make you feel better.” 

“But then you’ll just get sick again.” 

“How about this? I’ll wear a mask to protect me from the germs.” Amanda says, pulling a mask out of her pocket and putting it on. “Come on, let’s-”

“NO!” Wooly screams. The tape suddenly glitches to the surgery room for a second. Wooly starts breathing heavily, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’ll be fine on my own just… go…” 

“Wooly I… I’m s-” Was she sorry? Amanda wasn’t sure. She was starting to feel like she should be. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that I…” 

“I know… I know that. I know you were dealing with a lot… I was a bad friend… I should’ve done something to help… but I didn’t want you to… I…” 

“Look Wooly, I won’t do it again so… let’s get you some rest… okay?" Amanda asks, holding out her hand. Wooly takes it and she helps him up. “You know, I think that’s the first time we ever talked about that.” She looks over at Wooly, but he doesn’t respond. He starts swaying a bit. “Wooly?”

“I’m okay just feeling a little-” his legs turn to jelly and he flops to his knees. 

“Um… how’s Wooly feeling?” Amanda asks. Riley wonders how the heck they should know but they take a guess and type in dizzy. 

“Yeah… I do feel a bit light headed.” Wooly laughs awkwardly. Amanda shakes her head. She kneels down and looks at Wooly. “What are you doing?”

“Piggy back. Get on.” she says. Wooly climbs on her back and they head upstairs to Wooly’s room. 

“It’s not safe… to piggyback on the stairs…” Wooly mumbles in a drowsy voice. 

“Oh, be quiet.” Amanda sighs. 

They arrive in his room. “Alright where should Wooly rest?” Amanda questions. Riley, just to see what would happen clicks on the rug. “Very funny.” They click on the chair. Amanda rolls her eyes. “Hurry up, he’s heavy.” Riley finally clicks on the bed. Amanda lays him down. Just to find he already fell asleep. “Oh.” She says, and tucks him in. “Alright, first we should check his temperature right? I mean… he’s clearly sick but…” 

Suddenly the tape glitches to the kitchen. The thermometer sits on the counter, but Amanda doesn’t notice. She takes the step stool and looks in the cupboard. “Oh… Wooly put it back somewhere else. Do you know where it is?” Amanda asks us. Riley clicks on the thermometer. “There we go… not that I think it will do much…” 

The tape promptly glitches back to Wooly’s room. Amanda checks his temperature. The thermometer turns even more red than before. “Oh no… he’s sicker than I was…” Amanda looks at the floor sadly. “Stupid Wooly. He didn’t have to help… What was it he did again?”  she asks us. We type in soup. “That’s right! When I was sick my --- would make it for me. But… I don’t know how to make that.” She turns to Wooly and shakes him a little. “Wooly…” 

“Mmm?” 

“How do you make chicken soup?” 

“The mommy chicken doesn’t eat her babies… she gives them to the farmer… they eat the babies…” Wooly mumbles. Amanda realizes that he’s still asleep. 

“I guess I could make some toast… and I think we still have some ginger ale.” the tape glitches to Amanda in the kitchen, placing the bread into the toaster. “Alright… I guess we got the toast. Should I put some jam on it?” Riley types in yes. “Okay. We’ve got apple or peach. What do you think Wooly would like?”  Riley clicks on the apple. “Wooly’s allergic to apples. I don’t think it’d be very good to give him that now.” So Riley clicks on peach. “Yeah, that’s his favorite, it’s sure to cheer him up. While we wait for the toast, let’s get the ginger ale!” She opens the fridge. “Oh no… there’s no more left. What should I give Wooly instead?” Riley clicks on the milk. “Wooly said it’s not good to drink that on an upset stomach. I don’t know how he’s feeling right now…” Riley clicks on the peach juice. “Yeah… I think juice will be okay. Ah! The toast is done. Let’s spread the jam and bring it to Woo-ly ly ly ly.” The tape glitches back to the bedroom. 

“Oh, hi Amanda.” 

“Wooly! You’re awake! Are you feeling better?” 

“A little bit, yeah.” 

“Want something to eat?” 

“Uh… I’m actually not hungry at the moment. Honestly I might go back to sleep…” Wooly notices that Amanda made toast. “But I’ll eat it later when I wake up!” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve asked first.” Amanda laughs, placing the plate and drink down on the chair. “What else did you do when I was sick… I know! I’ll get you a wet face cloth!”

“Wait!” Wooly calls out, grabbing Amanda’s sleeve. “Do you think… you could stay here… for a bit? Till I fall asleep again? I keep having these weird dreams…” 

“Oh… sure Wooly. I guess I could do that.” Amanda replies. Sitting down on the bedside. She tries to remember what her dad would do… but her mind becomes blank. It’s still a bit fuzzy. “Heh heh… I’m not as good at this as you are, huh?” 

“I’m sorry… I just didn’t want you to leave…” Wooly mumbles.

“That’s okay…” 

“But you probably will anyway.” 

“Well, I’ll come right back once I get the face cloth.” 

“No, one day… you’re gonna leave and go into the real world.” Wooly whispers, “And I’ll be here… all alone… I guess I probably deserve that.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I thought I was being good… but I must’ve done something wrong… that’s why they left me all alone…”

“Wooly…” these words hurt Amanda’s heart. She knew the feeling. 

“I keep having these weird dreams…” Wooly mutters to himself. 

“I… I’m probably never going to get out of here.” Amanda whimpers, burying her head into her arms and legs.

“No… you will. I’m sure of it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re you.” 

“Wooly that-” she was going to tell him that that didn’t make any sense, “If I do escape, you can come with me.” 

“Where would we even go?” he asks, Amanda thinks for a bit. She remembers that when she was feeling bad, her dad would always tell her stories… happy stories. 

“We’ll find our parents.” She whispers. 

“But I don’t think I even have parents…” Wooly mutters.

“Then when we find my dad you can live with us. Then we’ll get far far away from Hameln and live happily ever after.” Amanda explains. 

“I like that story…” Wooly smiles, his voice drifting off. 

“Me too…” Amanda sighs, she turns to Wooly who has fallen back asleep. “But that’s all it will ever be… a story.” static fills the tape again, but Amanda quickly snaps out of it. She feels Wooly’s forehead. “Seems to be going down? I think? Let’s get him that cold face cloth just in case.” 

The tape glitches into the bathroom. “Which face cloth should we use?” Amanda asks. Riley picks the lavender one. “Alright. That works. Should we use the cold or hot water?” Riley clicks the cold. “Yep that’s right.” Amanda runs the face cloth under cold water for a bit. “You know, I used to think Wooly was evil… and working with… you know… but I’m starting to think he might not be so bad. If I ever find a way out of here… maybe I will take him with me…” 

The tape glitches back into Wooly’s bedroom and Amanda places the cold face cloth on his head. 

“Who are you?” Amanda asks. Obviously, Wooly doesn’t answer, since he’s asleep. “Do you even know?” The tape glitches back to them being outside. 

“Hi friends! I’m Amanda!” 

“And I’m… Wooly!” Wooly beams. 

“Feeling all better now Wooly?”

“Thanks to you, yeah!” Wooly laughs sheepishly. 

“Now we can go on our adventure!” 

The tape ends, and the credits roll. This time Riley notices something in the credits. 

CAST

AMANDA

Rebecca Colton

WOOLY

William Scott

Wooly’s name. Riley finally found Wooly’s name.

(Wooly's in-fic universe name was chosen by reader suggestions! Thanks to everyone who suggested names for Wooly!)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

your fridge-build , original-red-and-purple-oufit magneto showed up in my dream yesterday and i was so unprepared it woke me up

reading this made me cackle for like a solid minute gjAELKGJAK he just wanted to say hi ....

leaving you with a fridge-magnet-sized magneto. so hopefully he can say hi again but less intimidatingly

[sskk-manifesto]

Atsushi's back in the game!!! ۶( ˆ o ˆ )

[fceriestcrdst]

my autistic ass avoided watching the x-files because i knew it would consume me....

& now here i am fully consumed even though I've only watched the first few handful of episodes of s1 (i'm regaining spoons needed for media consumption), but let me tell you w h a t!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was so excited i started crying because it combines unbridled pining, a skeptic & her believer husband partner, true crime, weird mythology, aliens (which i already knew abt obvi), unlikely besties who are prepared to square up at all times (re; scully being cold towards the agents mocking mulder & mulder being ready to fight g o d whenever anything happens to scully).

i just love the show a lot & i expected this but goddamn!!!!!! it's wormed into my spin category & now my alien spin is returning along with my 'unexplained happenings spin!!!!! i'm being consumed i tell you!!!!

[spdrvyn]

MIGUEL O’HARA — and places he’d kiss you in

rewatched atsv and was hit with a very strong wave of yearning for this man that (unfortunately) doesn’t exist so now we’re here! tagging @greensagephase too as she was the one who inspired me to write this, please enjoy!! (^_^) ♡

☆ his lab, at work

like i’ve mentioned a thousand times before in my other fics and posts, miguel isn’t the biggest fan of pda. he prefers intimacy when it’s just the two of you, without the crumbling pressure of his snoopy coworkers.

that is mostly why his laboratory is one of the most secure places in headquarters. with a platform that might as well be touching the ceiling, it grants utmost privacy to him and you. he enjoys it when you visit him, whether it’s to bring food or company, the fact you go out of your busy day to come see him makes his heart swell.

he loves to shower you in kisses in those fleeting moments you’re both together, before the day ends. he presses a kiss to your hairline, and takes a whiff of your shampoo. before he moves down to your forehead, your nose, then your lips. he’ll tell you about the day he’s had, you will tell him about yours in return, and he’ll wonder how he got so lucky.

☆ the park, early mornings

i’d like to think that miguel is a morning person. when he can, he goes on brisk walks in a park nearby to wind down a little before he starts a very hectic day.

you, on more than one occasion, have chosen to join him, which miguel feels guilty for most of the time. mainly because he thinks you need sleep, as adorable as you look when you’re tired. he notices how sluggish you can be when you join him, which is why neither of you give that big of an effort to make conversation. not like it makes the moment any less meaningful.

there is a way that the peeping sun reflects on you so beautifully. even with tired eyes, unkempt hair, and an “uncoordinated” outfit (according to you. but he’d be attracted to you even if you wore a potato sack), every inch of you from head to toe looks like it came straight out of a renaissance painting.

he will pull you behind a tree, pepper kisses to your cheeks, before kissing you senseless on the lips. he holds your face in his warm palms like a prized jewel, and each kiss feels slower than the next. his breath is hot against your mouth as he pauses before he leans in for one after the other.

☆ at a restaurant, dinner time

on date nights, it really depends on how both of you are feeling on where the location is. maybe, it feels nice to doll up and look nice, but if it’s too much effort, somewhere casual and near-by is sufficient enough for you and him.

either way, those nights are the ones where miguel’s romance levels are reaching through the roof. he simply can’t stop and won’t stop looking at you, and how stunning you are. he doesn’t know how you always manage to keep him relaxed, because even he knows about how high-strung he can get, but he always gets so eerily calm when you’re around.

while you’re in the restaurant, he will subtly hold your hand under the table. on the rare occasion, he’ll break his ‘little to no PDA’ rule, he will press kisses along the inside of your hand to your knuckles. he does try to be discreet, but the way you get so flustered by his boldness eggs him on.

☆ bonus: at home

when miguel comes back home, a lot of the time he lets his actions speak for how he feels.

normally, if you’re doing something when he returns, he embraces you from behind, lets out a huge sigh of relief, and clings to your back like a koala until you are both seated. if you’re on the bed or couch, reading a book or watching something on the tv, he collapses on top of you and puffs all the air out from your chest.

he will kiss you on your neck, or when he’s really tired, just leave his lips there. he’ll lay on your chest and kiss you there also, while leaving a trail down to your stomach.

i'm still so not over him. sorry to my cousin's friends who apparently read some of my stuff, i am not normal about this old man

[gothic-thoughts]

Pinky Promise

Ghostface x Black Fem Reader Drabble

Bimbo!Reader

CW: peeps named Emma caught a crazy stray im sorry 😭

TW: murder mention, uh sl

Word Count: 952 (give or take)

After waking up at 2 am, you drag your groggy body out of bed, wrap a little blanket around yourself, and slip on your slippers, preparing for the cold air in the hallway. As soon as you open your room door, your phone rings, the sound of your favorite song muffled by the blankets. Confused, you walk back to the bed and rummage through your comforter until your phone falls onto your mattress with a soft thud. The screen was lit up, showing ‘Unknown Caller’ on the screen to which you tilt your empty head and pick it up.

“Uh, hello?”

“Well hello there, pretty girl~”

You chuckle, immediately flattered by the man’s tone and compliment: “Um, hi...? Who is this?”

“You have such a pretty voice over the phone, (Y/n). Sounds sexier than I expected.”

You pause, freezing your steps in the hallway, “Wha- I... wait, how’d you know my name?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things, baby.”

“Really?”

“You may not see me but I see everything.”

“Oh, like a god?”

The man chuckled, mocking your stupidity, “In a way, yes. And you know what, gorgeous?”

“What?”

“Since you asked me how I knew your name, that means you’re not as dumb a bitch as Emma said you were.”

You gasp softly, “She said that?”

“That and more. Your girl Emma gave me an earful; going on and on about how ‘all you do is be pretty’ and that ‘you've got nothing going on’.”

“She... wouldn’t say that—”

“You were nothing but a stupid bimbo to her. She may be right, but the least she could do was say it to your face, don'tcha think?”

“Well, I mean...”

“Emma isn't a very nice person, is she?”

“No, I mean, yes! She’s my best friend!”

He chuckled into the phone, loving how much he was frazzling your singular brain cell with rapid-fire information as you made your way into your kitchen, giving him a better view of you.

“Is she now? I think she was pretty fucking messy, in more ways than one.”

Your grip on the blanket around you tightens, “What do you mean?”

“Well I’m only calling you as per her recommendation, sweet cheeks. She thought she could trade her life for yours, but I quickly informed her that’s not how I roll. And believe me, she had a lot more to say before I split her open tits to thighs.”

You freeze in the middle of the kitchen, jaw-dropping as you lose your breath, your eyes stinging with tears. He chuckles at your faltering breaths while you rack your small brain for why else he could be calling. Your hand trembles against the phone as you frantically look around your kitchen, hoping to find an obvious camera before deciding to close the kitchen curtains.

“Mm, so there are neurons firing in that skull.” He laughs, watching you panic on his monitors, “Do you know why I’m calling?”

“To.... to kill me too...?” The words leaving your mouth make a tear roll down your cheek.

“Now why would I do that, pretty girl?”

“I don't know!” The stress and confusion make you burst into tears. “I swear I don’t know, just please don't hurt me.”

“Aw, there's no need to cry, beautiful, I just want to ask you something.”

“What, that’s all?”

“Mhm; I just want you to tell me what your favorite scary movie is.”

“What? I-I-I—”

The man sighs. “Come on, you don’t need brains for this, baby, this is easy. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Um, Halloween... t-the Rob Zombie one.”

“That's a remake, you know.”

“Y-yeah, I rewatch it all the time.”

“Interesting. What do you like about it?”

“Um, Michael's backstory makes you feel bad for him and then I like his long hair when he's older.”

The man chuckles in your ear, “So you like big guys with long hair huh? You like masks too?”

“I guess, maybe, I don’t know...”

“So, let's say a handsome guy with long hair walks into your room wearing a mask: what would you think?”

“How would I know he's handsome if he's wearing a mask?”

“You'd ask him to remove it?”

“I guess I'd want to know what he looks like.”

You whimper, thinking he meant he was already in your home, lurking. “I'd be scared.”

“Mm, so you don’t like masks, that’s a shame."

"N-no, please, I do! I do, I do!"

"Save it. So if it was me, in your house, looking for you, all big and tall like Michael: how would you feel about that?”

He smirked. “Why’s that, sweetheart? I thought that was your type; I've been a nice enough guy, haven’t I?”

“But you... You killed my friend...”

“I-I don't know. Uh w-why else would you be calling me if you weren't gonna... gonna—”

“She who didn't like you, and since she got what was coming to her, why are you scared?"

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, choking up sobs. “You promise?”

“What you're feeling right now is nothing compared to what I do to people I hate."

"Y-you... You mean--"

"You're safe with me, baby. All you gotta do is not call the cops.”

“I promise, you wanna know why?”

You take a deep, shaky breath to try and compose yourself, “Why?”

“I like you, (Y/n). I love how fucking clueless you are— so interesting for someone without a single thought in their head. I never know what you're gonna say next. You keep me engaged— entertained: I like that.”

“Really?”

“Okay... Okay, if it means you won’t hurt me, I guess...”

“Uh-huh. And that voice? That body? Ugh, you have no idea the things I'd do for you. You're helpless, and you're mine now. I’m gonna call you every night just to hear you speak, ya hear me?”

“I already promised, didn’t I? You don’t have to worry that pretty little head about that. All you gotta do is keep me on the line.”

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

(a/n): wrote abt ghostface, still managed to make it abt Michael 😩😩 how I even 😭

[ghouldump]

I love how you write for Lestat!!!! PLEASE NEVER STOP ❤️❤️❤️

Thicker Than Water | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

lol, thank you, rewatching s1, after seeing s2, he is so toxic 😭 but so passionate and caring about everything he does, and lestat and claudia are so much alike so i thought of this

Motherhood. One of the biggest blessings this life could bring forth. You were unfortunate, turned before you were given the opportunity to bring creation into the world. Lestat always managed to keep your relationship alive, not allowing the chance to think about it, but there were times.

Those late nights, hunting for your next meal like an animal, you’d see mothers, holding the hands of their sons and daughters. Staring for a moment, you could feel your heart, which hadn't beat in years, break. Then Claudia came along, or you came to her, saving her, pleading that Lestat turned her.

He warned that she would be a mistake, forced into the body of a child forever. While you understood him, you couldn't think rationally at the moment. A child needed to be saved and you weren't letting up, begging him, before he finally gave in.

Claudia was turned and quickly became the apple of your eyes. A mother, you had become a mother overnight and you loved her as if you'd birthed her. Her relationship with Lestat always seemed strained, the two constantly bumping heads. You found it adorable at times, they couldn't see how much they were similar, with Lestat’s blood in her veins, she was his daughter through and through.

Your baby, she was, although you may have spoiled her too much. As she grew older, wanting more than other preteen girls, the guilt began to sink in. Your baby, yet instead of taking her to a hospital that night, you forced her into becoming what you were.

“Hey,” you smiled as the front door opened, Lestat walking in. Claudia sat in a chair, while you stood behind her, carefully brushing her hair.

“Hey,” Lestat said in a weird tone, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“He’s such a dick,” Claudia said, crossing her arms.

Staring at the stairs for a second, letting his tone process, as he disappeared upstairs. Putting on your best fake smile, you changed the subject, letting Claudia talk about the current boy she had a crush on.

Your relationship, recently, had been distant. At times it was about things you felt you should no longer do, inviting people into your home, your sex life, threesomes, and orgies. You didn't want to expose Claudia to those things. Then came discipline, you never corrected her, at least not like Lestat. You were gentle with her, always, never raising your voice, and making excuses for her. It was beginning to cause a rift in your marriage.

Braiding the soft curly hair into pigtails, you sent her off to her room, the sun would be rising soon enough. Going to your bedroom, you were surprised to see Lestat already in his coffin.

“Honey, is everything alright?” you asked. One of the essential rules of your union was never to go to bed angry at the other.

“I am fine,” he said with a huff, as he opened the coffin.

“I don't like when you talk like that in front of Claudia,” you told him, watching as he rolled his eyes.

“Claudia does a lot of things I don't like, and I don't complain”

“Yes, you do, to her face and me, she's a child-

“She is not a child, she’ll be 19 in four months. She's a brat who whines to get her way, and every time, you give it to her,” he said, making you scoff.

“Sorry for being a mother to our daughter, even if you don't like her,” you told him, getting into your coffin.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice full of sympathy.

“Just leave me alone, I'm tired,” you said, closing your eyes to fall asleep.

As night fell upon the sky, you opened your coffin, going straight to the closet, picking an outfit. You could hear Lestat standing up, but you didn’t dare to face him. His eyes set on you as you changed, slipping into the form fitting dress.

“Ma chèrie, I want to apologize for the way that I spoke to you-

“It’s fine,” you told him, adjusting the pantyhose, before stepping into the heels.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a smile, he was still bare, while you had already dressed, and were walking out of the room.

“Out,” you said, nonchalantly.

Leaving out of the room, you saw Claudia come out of her room, looking at you as you passed.

“Are we going hunting?”

“No, I have a few things to do,” you told her.

“Can I come?”

“No Claudia, I have to go alone, see if Lestat will take you”

“But-

“Or go alone, it doesn't matter,” you told her, walking away. You knew you'd probably hurt her feelings, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You couldn't care about anything right now.

You needed a break from both of them. Lestat is such a dick, Claudia is a brat, He wants you all to himself, She is trying to take you from me, it was an endless cycle of them bickering against each other - leaving you to try to be a mediator.

“What did you do, asshole?” you could hear Claudia scream at him.

“Shut up, you insolent brat,” he told her, as you left out of the front door.

Walking through the streets, you attempted to clear your mind. Claudia could be heard, talking, asking if you were alright. If you wanted to leave Lestat for good, but you ignored her. Entering the crowded bar, you tuned out her voice, choosing to focus on the jazz music played by the band.

Sitting at an empty table, you sighed, enjoying the comfort the harmony brought to your sanity.

“Mind if I sit here?” you heard, making you look up, gasping immediately.

“George,” you smiled, your eyes traveling from head to toe, examining the army uniform.

“I thought it was you I saw, I had to be sure,” he laughed, pulling you into a firm hug.

“What are you doing here? I thought-

“I’m only home for a few days, then I'm going overseas,” he said. Truth be told, you weren't paying attention to much he was saying, focused on his Adam’s apple.

“Please, sit, it has been forever,” you smiled, as he sat next to you.

George was a childhood friend, while not exactly your first love, he was your first for other things. You remembered your last time with him, he had been drafted and was being sent away to the military. He was only 18, when he left, that night being over a decade ago.

“You still look as beautiful as you did back then,” he told you.

“I know,” you smirked. You could hear his thoughts, sex clouded his brain, his eyes full of lust.

Leaning close to him, tilting your head, you slowly pressed your lips into his. You and Lestat both had your fair share of fulfilled fantasies, but this was different. Something on your own, the stress relief you needed from the problems in your life.

“You want to come back to my place?” he asked you.

“Lead the way,” you told him, biting your lip, as he stood, walking you to his car.

During the drive, he caught you up on his life and how he managed to rank up within the service. The loss of his parents, inheriting their house while he was away. He went on about how he was getting older and needed to start looking for a wife.

“What about you?” he finally asked as he parked in front of the house.

It wasn't nearly as extravagant as you had become accustomed to, living with Lestat, but it was perfect for a normal, small, but growing family.

“What about me?”

“Your life? How has it been these last few years?” he asked as you followed him, and he unlocked the door, letting you in.

“Well, I'm married and I have a daughter,” you said, chuckling as his eyes widened.

“You probably should've told me that before I took you to my house,” he told you, as you went to the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“It's complicated”

“Then talk to me, you know you can trust me, sweets,” he said, you couldn't help but smile at the old nickname.

“My daughter, she's…adopted, but that doesn't change a thing, she's mine. She and my husband, are always bumping heads, they are so similar and so stubborn. Their relationship is causing a rift, I just need a break from both of them,” you shook your head.

“You sound stressed out, sweets,” George said, reaching for your hand.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Maybe I can help you?” he said, as you looked at his hand, the way his thumb brushed against your skin.

“Yeah?” you smirked at him, as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You don't think she’ll leave us, do you?” Claudia asked her father. They sat in the car, a good distance from the house.

The two of them were worried about you, and while they argued at first, they quickly got it together and chose to follow you. Full of jealousy, it took everything in them to not kill the man the moment he joined your table.

You, despite also having Lestat’s blood, weren't like them. You weren't so quick to kill, hunting rodents before you’d choose to drain a person to death, always trying to bring comfort to the two of them. You held onto human traditions while embracing immortality. From convincing them to partake in family portraits to bonding with the two of them in the living room. They loved you greatly, so much that they'd put up with each other.

“You know this is your fault, she asked you to stop messing with that hussy, and you wouldn't,” Claudia spat at her father.

Lestat could hardly listen, his shaken hand going to his mouth. He could hear undoubtedly, what you were doing, what the two of you were doing. This was different than a threesome or orgy with people that meant nothing to the two of you. They'd usually end up drained or glamoured before the night was over. But this, my god, was different, Lestat felt the lust that you felt for this man, that you knew, and that made him sick to his core.

“You went to see her again?” you crossed your eyes, leaning against the doorpost, as he entered the house.

“She is no competition, ma chérie, it is you, who have my heart,” he told you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I thought we decided to put all of this stuff behind us”

“You did when you decided you wanted to become a mother,” he said, a gleam of disgust in his eyes, briefly staring at Claudia, as he went upstairs.

This was his fault, he had caused the wedge between the two of you, and he had to be the one to fix it. A bloody tear slipped out his eye, while he moved his hair out of his face.

“She won’t leave us,” he told his daughter, as he started the car, driving past the house.

“I have to go,” you told George, straddling his waist, in his bed.

“You don't have to leave,” he told you, his hand caressing your back.

“I do,” you laughed.

“Your family, you can leave them, start over with me, get married, and we’ll make a daughter of our own”

“Those things are easier said than done, I couldn't up and leave them, they need me as much as I need them,” you said, pulling away, to get dressed.

“I didn't mean to offend you, sweets,” he apologized.

“It's okay, really, I just need to get back home, the sun will be up soon enough,” you shook your head.

“Well I can drop you off-

“No need, you don't live too far from my house”

“Can I see you again, tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, before leaving his house, walking home.

Entering the house, you were surprised by how quiet it was, abnormally quiet. Going upstairs, you peeked in Claudia’s room. Everything was neatly organized, with her coffin in the middle of the room, closed. Smiling lightly, you shut the door, before moving to your shared bedroom. Lestat was already away in his coffin, while yours was still open.

Stripping from your clothing, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders. The previous tense stress that was there before, was gone. Climbing into your coffin, you looked over at Lestat’s before shutting your own.

“Good night,” you said lowly, before falling asleep.

Sleeping throughout the day, as night approached, you felt an uneasy sensation in your stomach. Unable to move, you felt restricted, when suddenly, your Achilles’ heel was sliced. Your eyes finally opened, widening seeing Claudia stand, a small blade in her hand. Staring into her piercing eyes, she held a deep frown, before going to Lestat’s side.

Your mouth was taped, and your body was wrapped in chains, you felt weak and confused. Immediately, you looked to Lestat, whose back was turned to you, before he turned to face you, moving to reveal the surprise.

George sat tied in front of you, tape on his mouth, his face already bruising. George looked at you, before screaming at Lestat, who frowned at him.

“Pathetic,” he said before his eyes went to you. You could see the blood stains on his face that he had been crying.

“Ma chérie, you hurt me badly, both of us,” he told you, before ripping the tape from your mouth.

“What are you talking about? How is this different from you going to see her?” you asked him.

“That was different and you know it, I heard you, I could feel your passion for him,” he screamed at you, tears pouring out.

“No one told you to follow me”

“No, but he will pay, for thinking he was worthy to have you, and for trying to break our family apart,” he said, as he moved to George, using his nail to cut his face.

“Claudia, let me out of this, I need to heal,” you hold her, but she turns her head, the bloody tears leaking from her eyes.

“He wants to take you from us, mama, and give you a new daughter, I know we had our problems, but I never thought that you would want to leave,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I don't, I told him I didn't, I love you both, I’ve been overwhelmed with stress, and I wanted relief, but that's it, not to leave you, either of you,” you told him. George continued struggling to speak. Claudia rolled her eyes, ripping the tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

“It’s true, she said she needs you both, as much as you need her,” George said, making the two look at you.

“Ma chérie-

“Mama-

The two spoke at the same time, making their way in front of you, and wrapping their arms around you.

“I’m sorry for how I've acted, I don't want you to find pleasure anywhere else, just hours with you in the arms of another, feels like death all over,” Lestat told you.

“And I don't want to lose you as my mama, I’ll be better,” Claudia said, her voice cracking. You found both of their confessions heart-touching, becoming emotional.

“You both are perfect the way you are, we should've communicated better as a family,” you told him, as they both agreed.

Standing tall, you watched as Claudia grabbed the bolt cutters, breaking the chains from around you. Lestat helped you stand, holding your waist, as you leaned on him.

“We had to be sure you wouldn't break free if you were leaving with him, sorry, mama,” she said, glancing at your feet.

“It's alright”

“Y/n, help me,” George pleaded with you.

“Your meal, ma chérie,” Lestat eyed him.

“We know you prefer hunting your rodents, which is why we brought the meal to you, as we celebrate,” Claudia said.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Our companionship,” Lestat smirked.

“Our family will be stronger than ever, after this,” Claudia told you.

Looking at George, he was confused and scared. Baring your teeth, you limped over to him.

“Don't worry about the mess, we will clean up,” Claudia said.

“Y/n, what are you-

Covering his mouth, you sank your teeth into his neck, climbing into his lap. Your eyes shut, as you took pleasure in the rarity, the blood dripping from your chin.

“Y/n, please,” George begged, his eyes slightly rolling back.

“Join me,” you told Claudia, smiling as she rushed over, biting his wrist. Looking at Lestat, he was more hesitant, approaching as you held out your hand. Intertwining your fingers, he leaned down, kissing your lips. The blood smeared on his mouth before he attacked the other side of George’s neck.

Leaning against the brick wall, you watched as Lestat and Claudia burned the body. Your arms wrapped around your body, as you watched them interact. They calmly conversed with each other, before they turned, walking towards you.

“And so who was right in the end?” You could hear Lestat talking.

“You were”

“Correct”

“What was he correct about?” you asked Claudia, smiling at the two.

“Blood is thicker than water,” she said, as he pat her head in approval. All you could think of us was how close they seemed.

“It's cause we're a family, mama, we have our problems but we are meant to all be together,” she giggled, as she heard your thoughts.

“You're right, I love you, both of you,” you told them, accepting Lestat’s kiss, before kissing Claudia’s forehead.

“We still have a few hours before sunrise, should we go for a nice drive?” you asked him.

“Sounds perfect,” Lestat said, watching as you turned, going into the house.

“You did well,” he told Claudia.

“I learned from the best,” she said, as they shared a secretive handshake, going inside, pleased, knowing that together they were able to fix the problems in their family.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Healing Bonds

Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader(Past)

Summary: You find Yelena after Natasha, your ex-lover, has passed and you feel like it's your duty to keep Yelena close. What happens though when feelings rise up for the blonde Russian?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Lots of angst and hurt

A/N: So This idea had come to me after rewatching Endgame, Black Widow, and Hawkeye so here you go.

The first time you met Yelena Belova wasn't until after her sister and your ex-lover, Natasha Romanoff, died. Natasha had always talked about Yelena and how much she loved her. You cried when you first laid eyes on Yelena. The two looked nothing alike, and you were thankful for that because you don't think you could look at her if she did.

When you told Yelena who you were to Natasha, she cried, wishing for a million different scenarios in which her sister was still here with them, and all you could do was hug Yelena, which earned you a handful of punches. You learned quickly that Yelena could be a very violent person when dealing with certain emotions. The first time it happened, you let it. You let her get her aggression out.

"It's not fair! You had so much time with her! You got to be happy with her! Me? I got a mission that almost got us killed after 20 years of silence!" She yelled, and you just held her tighter. "I'm sorry, Yelena," You whispered over and over and over.

In those moments, as her fists collided with your body, you could feel the pain in her words. It wasn't just about Natasha's death; it was about the years lost, the missions that tore them apart, and the void left by the silence between them. You understood Yelena's anger, even if it was directed at you. It wasn’t as if she could direct it at the person she wanted to.

As the punches subsided, she finally collapsed into your arms, exhausted from the emotional storm that had consumed her. You sat there in silence for a while, the weight of Natasha's absence hanging heavily between the two of you. The room felt colder, emptier, and you couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at you.

"I wish she had more time with you too, Yelena," You said softly, your words barely audible. Yelena didn't respond, but her grip on you tightened, seeking solace in your shared grief.

In the aftermath of that turbulent encounter, the two of you began a journey of healing together. You were bound by the love you had both lost, and as the two of you navigated the tangled web of emotions, a new connection formed. A connection born out of pain, but one that held the promise of understanding and, perhaps, even redemption in the face of the losses you both endured in the wake of the Snap and beyond.

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You ended up taking Yelena home with you, offering her a permanent place by your side. She continued going on missions, which you had expected. The first time she left without telling you, and there was no note. You thought you'd lost her forever, sitting on the back porch in the summer evening air, your Y/H/C hair whipping around you as silent tears fell.

You didn't hear her come in, not until she was next to you did you notice her presence. "Why are you crying?" Her accent, thick and familiar, filled your ears as you grabbed her, pulling her in tightly, close, your heart hammering in your chest. "I thought I'd lost you too... don't... don't fucking do that again, Yelena!" You yelled at her, your voice trembling as tears flowed freely.

Yelena's expression softened as she held you, understanding the fear that gripped you during her absence. "I had to go. It was a last-minute mission, and I didn't want to wake you," she explained, her words a mix of apology and reassurance.

"It doesn't matter. Just... just tell me next time, please," You pleaded, your grip on her not loosening. The relief of having her back overwhelmed the anger that had fueled your outburst.

Yelena nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "I promise. I'm sorry for making you worry," she said, her voice soothing. The two of you stayed there, entwined on the porch, the summer breeze carrying away the tension that had momentarily fractured your newfound connection.

From that day forward, Yelena kept her promise. She would leave for her missions, but not without a word or a note, ensuring that you wouldn't have to endure the heart-wrenching uncertainty of her absence again. In the quiet moments between her departures and returns, your bond deepened, and the scars of your shared losses began to heal, one mission at a time.

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You decided to form a company a little over a year after Natasha died, the weight of her absence still heavy in your heart. Standing at her grave, you whispered into the wind, "I'm going to start a company. I don't want to be an Avenger anymore. Not without you, but I can help others. I know I can." The breeze felt like Natasha's touch, a comforting caress that seemed to echo her approval.

"Yelena and I have been living together for six months now, Tasha. She's exactly as you described. A spitfire and a brat at times. I don't know if you can forgive me or not when I say this, but I could see myself with her. She's my type, a power bottom with a bratty side." You chuckled as the wind picked up. "Okay okay... I understand, only if she moves first," You whispered, as if seeking Natasha's consent in the elements around you.

Your company started up with few hiccups. You planned on making a business out of seeking out people with powers and talents that could be considered Avengers, teaming them up with a manager. Eventually, you aimed to expand to other countries, each with its own headquarters. The goal was to create a network of skilled individuals, ready to defend against threats on a global scale.

You envisioned a world where those of you left in America could stay here unless faced with a Thanos-level threat, something you fervently hoped would never happen again. The legacy of the Avengers would live on through this new venture, a tribute to Natasha and a commitment to protecting a world that had lost so much but still held the potential for hope and resilience.

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You come home to find Yelena sitting on the couch with a pot of mac & cheese covered in hot sauce, using a too-big spoon. "Y/N! I made mac & cheese! Would you like some?" she asks, and you’re too exhausted to yell at her. You sit next to her, taking the spoon and eating some. "How was your day?" she inquires.

"Stressful, Lena. More and more people are learning about my company, and we're getting more and more applications," You reply, leaning your head back against the couch, closing your eyes. You hear her set the pot down on the coffee table before she curls up against your side. "Anything I can do?" she asks.

You remind yourself of the promise you made to Natasha. "Whatever you think sounds good. You've known me for over a year now, Lena. What is it that you think I want? What will make me feel better?" You don't open your eyes or look at her. you’re testing her, and she knows it.

You feel her shift off the couch, and you clench your fists. She's never going to make the first move as you fiddle with the band on your ring finger—the one you haven't taken off since Natasha gave it to you.

Yelena returns with a blanket, draping it over both of you. "How about a movie night? We can just relax and take a break from all the chaos," she suggests, her voice soft. It's a simple gesture, but the warmth of her presence and the consideration behind her words start to ease the tension within you.

You nod, finally opening your eyes to meet hers. "Yeah, that sounds good, Lena," you admit, a small smile playing on your lips. Maybe in that moment, amidst the mac & cheese, the too-big spoon, and the movie night proposal, you found a way to let go, even if just for a little while.

Yelena picks the movie while you change into pajamas, a tank top and shorts. You notice her eyes on your body, but choose to ignore it for the time being as you make popcorn and pour us some vodka sprites. Carrying the drinks and popcorn over, Yelena has picked out John Wick. You can’t help but chuckle at the choice as you settle back into the couch. Yelena moves closer, fitting into you like a puzzle piece as she takes your left arm and wrap it around her shoulders. You simply smile at the gesture, sipping on your drink and eating popcorn as the movie plays out.

About halfway through the movie, you feel Yelena absent-mindedly playing with the band Natasha had given you. She's engrossed in the movie, and you watch her, finding her reactions more enthralling than the movie at this point. It's a subtle touch, her fingers tracing the contours of the ring on your finger, and you can't help but be drawn to the way she navigates the emotions tied to Natasha's memory.

As the scenes of John Wick unfold on the screen, you lean your head against Yelena's, savoring the comfort of the moment. Her actions speak louder than any words, and in the quiet intimacy of that movie night, you start to understand that healing doesn't always come from grand gestures or elaborate plans. Sometimes, it's found in the simplicity of sharing a movie, a drink, and the touch of someone who cares. And in those stolen glances and unspoken connections, you find a new layer of solace, a fragile bridge between the past and the potential for a future where happiness is not just a memory but a living, breathing reality.

You whisper in Yelena's ear, "Tasha gave me the ring." Yelena is pulled from the movie, looking down at your hand that she's been playing with. "It was a promise ring. She got it for me in Budapest. Saying when things settled down, she'd do the whole down on one knee, and we'd have this beautiful wedding where she'd wear a black dress instead of a white one. Everyone would be there, and we'd go back to Budapest for our honeymoon. When we'd come back, we'd ask for a safe house where we could just live quietly between missions..."

You don't realize you’re crying until Yelena is wiping the tears from your face. "I'm sorry... I didn't... I'm ruining movie night, aren't I?" You choke on your own sobs, but Yelena just pulls you against her, hugging you tightly. "No, you haven't ruined anything, Y/N. It's okay."

You hold onto her, shifting slightly until she's in your lap, once again feeling like a puzzle piece as we bury our faces into each other's necks. "If you had gotten married, I hope she would have come found me to be her maid of honor... though I don't know how good I'd be at that," Yelena admits.

In that vulnerable moment, amidst the shared pain and unspoken understanding, Yelena's admission brings a bittersweet smile to your face. The weight of Natasha's absence still lingers, but in Yelena's presence, you find a different kind of strength—a strength born out of shared grief, compassion, and the subtle promise of moving forward, even if it's one tear-streaked movie night at a time.

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Yelena wakes you up, gently calling your name and crawling onto your bed. "Y/N... Y/N..." She speaks softly, shaking your arm lightly. In your half-awake form, you turn to face her, pulling her into a tight embrace, her face against your chest. You can smell her shampoo, pomegranates, and make a noise of content. "Y/N, I have to go," Yelena whispers.

"No," You refuse, not letting her go. In fact, you hold her a little tighter. "Yes, I must. The widows need me," she insists.

"I really don't want you to go... I worry so much every time you go out that door. I know you're the world's greatest assassin, but so was Natasha before you," You confess. Yelena cups your cheeks. "I'll come back. I promise."

Natasha said those exact words too. You feel the tears in your eyes, spilling over before I have a chance to stop them. They're down your cheeks and running over her fingers. "I know words mean very little. I know Nat said similar words. I'm not leaving, though. I'll come back. It's just freeing more widows that have been found. That's all. It's safe. I promise. None of them come close to my skills."

Yelena wipes your tears and assures you that she'll come back. You know you have to let her go. "Please just come back safe, Lena. Please," You lean your forehead against hers. "I can't do this without you," You finally confess.

"I'll come back. I'll always come back. You can't get rid of me, not anymore. You're too deep into this," Yelena tells you, and you look at her, searching her face. "Lena..." Gods, you want to kiss her so badly just to show her how much you need her, but you promised Tasha...

Yelena leans in, kissing your cheek, almost reaching your lips. It's the first time she's ever kissed you in any way. "I'll be back. A few days, that's all," she reassures, placing another kiss on your cheek before she leaves. She looks at you one last time with a smile before heading out, leaving you there, curled up into a ball and crying. Now, you definitely couldn’t lose her.

The weight of her absence already looms large, and the brief touch of her lips on your cheek lingers like a promise in the air. As you try to gather yourself, the echoes of Yelena's words and the warmth of her fleeting kiss become the anchor in the storm of your fears. You know you must trust her, just as Natasha had asked you to trust her own choices.

In the solitude of your room, you cling to the hope that Yelena will return, that the few days she's away won't stretch into an eternity. The scent of pomegranates still lingers in the air, a reminder of her presence, and you find solace in the belief that your connection, however fragile, will endure the challenges that lie ahead.

"Please tell me you'll count that as the first move, Tasha?" You ask, directing your words to the air as you look at the ring on your finger. There's a moment of silent contemplation, a silent conversation with a memory.

Then, you get up and get dressed, facing the day with a mix of vulnerability and determination. The echoes of Yelena's departure still resonate in your mind, but as you glance at the ring, you find a subtle strength. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but in that quiet acknowledgment, you feel the weight of a promise made, a connection forged, and a future that holds the potential for healing and new beginnings.

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"Yelena kissed my cheek; she almost kissed my lips, actually," You run your fingers across your cheek and the corner of your lip. "She had to go on a mission, and she told me the same words you did before you left me forever. I broke down. I seem to do that quite a bit with her now." You’re looking at Natasha's grave. It has been two years now since she left. "Tasha, I know we had our plans, and I will never forget them, but I want to move on... I need to, and in order to do that..." You pull the ring off your finger, twisting it between your fingers. "I need to give this back to you, darling." You’re trying not to choke on your tears as they flow freely down your face. You wrap it up in a little cloth, a red one, and bury it just a little ways down. "Please be happy for me, darling. You know she'll always treat me right." You are full-blown crying as you kiss her gravestone and head back home, hoping Yelena is finally home.

As you walk away, the weight of the past feels a bit lighter, as if the act of returning the ring is a step towards embracing the future. The pain is still there, the memories still vivid, but in the tears and the quiet goodbye, there's a sense of release and a tentative hope for what lies ahead. You head back home, your heart heavy but with a flicker of anticipation, hoping Yelena's absence will soon be replaced by her comforting presence.

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When Yelena comes back home, she finds you crying on the floor. She picks you up into her arms and holds you as you sob. When you finally come to from your crying session and register that she's back, you cup her cheeks and slam your lips against hers a little rougher than you intend. You soften up a bit when you realize how rough you truly were.

"You're back..." you whisper against her lips.

"I told you I'd be back," she whispers back, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you back in. The two of you kiss, hungry and passionate, as if she's been waiting all her life for this moment. In the embrace of her arms, the pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future momentarily fade away. There's only the warmth of the present and the promise of a new chapter, where healing and love can coexist, a testament to the resilience of the heart after weathering the storms of loss.

"Yelena..." You pull back, leaning your forehead on hers.

"I've been waiting forever for that," Yelena admits.

"I know you were grieving, so I just wanted to be here for you, and I was never sure if I should act on my feelings," Yelena tells you, and you give her a soft, quick kiss this time.

"I talked with Tasha about it and promised I wouldn't make the first move," Yelena laughs. "When was this?" she questions.

"A year ago at her grave. You were on a mission, and I went to visit her just before starting up the Avengers company. I told her about how I was falling for you and to not hate me for it. The wind whipped around me, and so I promised I wouldn't make the first move. When you kissed my cheek before leaving, I took that as you making the first move. I visited Natasha yesterday and told her about it and gave back her ring. I left it with her so that I could move forward," You explain, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and relief.

Yelena brushes her thumbs against your tear-stained cheeks and listens to your words. "I promise I'll live up to your expectations. I'll do everything I can to do right by you, Y/F/N," she says, and you chuckle at the use of your full name.

"I know you will, and so does Natasha. I don't think I could be in better hands than yours, Lena," You say, feeling a sense of acceptance and hope for the future. The weight of grief begins to lift, replaced by the promise of a new chapter, and the knowledge that love, even after loss, has the power to mend and rebuild.

[sophie-frm-mars]

I just wanna gush about DBT for a second

DBT saved my life so I'm gonna spend a moment telling everyone how helpful it can be because I know there are a lot of people with BPD out there who need to hear it.

so cluster B personality disorders are characterised by, among other things "unrelenting crisis" - this is the combination of the feeling that every small problem you encounter is just yet more insurmountable bullshit and the reality that you have a lot of bad shit going on in your life, some of caused by the wider world beyond your control and inevitably some of it self-inflicted. The problem is, to someone who is constantly activated and feels life as this kind of non stop catastrophe, it's really hard to practice skills learned in therapy to do anything about it AND it feels impossible to judge what is an appropriate thing to spend your energy on, where to even begin tackling your problems.

The group component of DBT is explicitly justified in the therapists' manual as tackling this, which I think is genius. A borderline patient will bring new problems to their therapist every week and not focusing on them will trigger feelings of abandonment but the patient will definitely have forgotten all about this problem and moved onto a new one by next session or the one after so you have two therapies, one talk therapy one-on-one and the other a group setting like a class where you learn the DBT skills, and then in the group setting no patient feels like they're being especially ignored by the therapist because they're all there to learn the skills as peers. I just think that's really clever

The bit that really whips though is the skills around Accumulating positive experiences and Building mastery. Okay so your life feels like shit, right? Like one shit thing after another? Your therapy is to have a nice time and get better at something in a way that makes you proud. There's a whole acronym for the skills you need to use to keep yourself well, ABC PLEASE, but C and PLEASE are all essentially preventative skills to stop you having an actively bad time or worsening your mental health, and A and B (Accumulate positive experiences, Build mastery) are the ones where you're proactively creating your life worth living and I love it so much.

Accumulating Positive Experiences really does just mean having a nice time in an intentional way. It can literally be watching TV, it can be whatever you want, but you approach it thinking about what will make good experiences that will actively make you feel like you are leading a life worth living. My girlfriend and I went to the planetarium and took edibles last month and it owns so hard that according to DBT that's therapy

Building Mastery is all about helping you get a sense of momentum and direction by improving at something, ideally something that isn't also what you do for work. I know "get a hobby" seems like such basic advice for helping someone out of a rough time but like I've been bouldering since early last year and seeing myself get better at it has been impossibly good for me.

I've been getting into cooking this year as one of my Building mastery practices, at first just regularish like "how can I feed myself in a way that feels like I'm showing myself care at all" like finally learning how to make some of the comfort foods I had in childhood like beef stew, or trying out new things on my very basic salmon, potatoes and broccolli, like teriyaki glaze on broccolli or making hasselback potatoes. Then after a while it became a thing where I felt confident enough to actually thing about a little project and do it like around when my gf and I started officially dating I made her roast lamb and dauphinoise potatoes (nothing photographs well, sorry in advance lol), or we started rewatching Twin Peaks and I really wanted cherry pie so I made my own, which I had never done before!

and at the same time as improving at that stuff I felt like I was good enough at it that cooking for other people was a way I could show them care, which was something I had always wanted but never put in the time to making a reality.

In The Endings Machine: Technology & Teleology I talked about how cooking vegan food in groups is more effective in several ways that going vegan yourself and afterwards my sister (who helped with recording) said to me and a friend "I've been thinking about this ever since filming, we should do this!" and we've been holding a rotating vegan group meal at other's places fortnightly since then, and it's been really good! (This idea btw was partly inspired by my time on the ZAD where communal living leads to group cooking on a rotation, mostly vegan) For the first one I made a spicy mushroom pasta, then I had to bring the dessert to one and I made a vegan chocolate tart with coconut milk instead of dairy making a coconut chocolate filling and it was SOOO good

Last week the vegan meal was at mine again and it fell on halloween so we invited more people and arranged a little spooky movie screening and I made SOOO much food and it was all fucking fantastic. My gf and I made dhal makhani, aubergine rice, parathas, vegan raita and onion bhajis and served them with some mango chutney and some oven-cook samosas that were just from big tesco. I'm so fucking proud of myself, I've never cooked this much before and it went so well! I guess what I really want to get across is how looking at this from the DBT perspective I gotta get across how good this shit is for your mental health and how absurdly well it dovetails with building community.

There are all sorts of other ways Accumulating positive experiences and Building mastery help, because DBT is a very holistic approach to helping people get better - like if you know what things you like doing and you plan them to be available to you, you know that you're going to be happy with your own company, which means if you're having a shit time around someone else you're happy saying "I would be having a better time being alone right now" and just leaving. That makes it easier to live up to your self-respect goals, which are a big part of the DBT interpersonal effectiveness skills, as well as helping to tackle every cluster B girlie's deep seated fear of abandonment.

I could go on an on, but the salient thing right now is that there are a lot of people struggling with stuff I relate to as someone who has had my shit rocked by Borderline Personality Disorder for years and years, and I know that the biggest feeling at core is like "what is this all for? what is the thing that we are all trying to do in the space we are chaotically scrabbling to try to clear all the time?" and this is the answer: you want to accumulate positive experiences and build mastery, and when you get to doing it you have such a profoundly more grounded sense of being in the world, of what it is that's worth being here for and what stands in the way of life just being like that for everyone and a more meaningful drive to try and make it be that way for everyone.

I also wanna go on and on about how Interpersonal Effectiveness makes everyone better at organising too, but I think the Life Worth Living is the better sales pitch for DBT. idk in short a close friend pitched it to me a little while ago that all leftists should learn DBT and it would make the revolution way easier and the more I live of my life worth living the more I agree.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm Muddled, there is SO MUCH on, but also I have FEELS

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

July 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 11 of 12 - Yak is such a demanding babygirl princess type. It’s kinda hilarious in a fierce boxer dude. I do adore the core brother friendship in this show. It’s so sweet. Also I guess Yak is out OUT now, on TV and everything. 

YES PLEASE GMMTV!!! This ship! Sail it!!!!

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 4-6 of 12? - So it started out as a relatively simple sports romance: first love, separation, reunion. But then just went entirely off the rails: gay mafia orgies, kidnapping, druggie ex teammates with knives, I am Spartacus. All erratic Thai pulp mumbo-jumbo aside? MeenPing are doing great in these roles. Zen's hurt confusion, Ryu’s struggle with internalized homophobia that keeps hurting Zen as much as him. 

Am I wrong to ship FrankPing Just a little bit? I only wanna see them kiss. It’s not asking too much, is it? 

Not sure what’s going on with Gaga and their "ep 6 of 6" thing. Or why they bundle-aired them. Did they just get the rights for the first half? Where is the rest?  

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 5 of 12 - I always end my Saturday with these 2 simply because I love this pair. I also enjoy the show. It’s sweet and I giggle a lot. I like that they’re dressing (and letting) Lin be a bit femmey - with his pussycat bows, coco bag, and little heels. I’m not sure about the pet names but I’ll accept them if I must.

My Stand-In (iQIYI) ep 12 fin - I would like to watch an entire show about the older brother boss and his hot secretary. Bit of a bully romance? Please & thank you?

This was a good solid ending, less predictable than I expected, which I appreciat. I liked that they had a full conversation about forgiveness. But overall, I am left in a muddle.

The show itself? A summation? Oof, here we go...

Adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KinnPorsche. Stuntman Joe dies on the job and wakes up in the body of another Joe with an entirely different life. But Joe just starts repeating the mistakes of his previous self - love, work, play. I enjoyed the experience of watching this show, I looked forward to it every week. I thought everybody did a great job with it and in it, and I liked that is was something substantially *different* for Thai BL. But I’m not sure I'll rewatch it or if it's bingeable. It left me feeling more sanguine than happy. Is there, objectively, anything wrong with it? No. But am I in love with it? No. I think that rests on the central characters, Ming in particular. I never liked him or warmed to them as a couple. I spent most of this show just very very sorry for poor Joe. Thus I was never rooting for their romance. I would recommend it, if you enjoy your BL more cerebral, with complicated unlikable love interests, and a downtrodden sympathetic lead. Is it, perhaps, more JBL that ThBL? Am I biased because it's a Thai production and I had expectations? What magical carnage could Japan have done with this IP? I'm left with questions, but I'm ultimately glad I watched this.

All this means that this show should, by all my own standards, get at 9/ 10. But I'm giving it an 8/10. So there.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 15 of 16 - It really is the antidote to Friend Zone. Like GMMTV just set out to make a nice little show about nice boys being very nice and kissing each other nicely. And it makes me very happy.

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 1-2 of 10 - DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge.

So far? I like it a lot. I love it when Thailand gets all up in its own historical business and reincarnation and bullshit like that. I’ve always liked this pair too (it’s not their fault I didn’t enjoy most of their first series.) Daou’s wushu is pretty snazzy. We got a fun meet cute. (Erm... Remeet cute? Meet cute 2.0?) And this is a very PRETTY show. With more comedy than I was expecting.

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 2 of 8 - I like the friendships, but so far I’m not sold on the personalities of the main couple. Of course I love the pair, and I know they can handle it, but I hope the story justifies their chemistry.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 - They are so damn teen dramatic and over-the-top. To have really played into the impact of the counselor character's original casting, they should’ve had Krist play the role! (GET IT?) That’d be ridiculously ironic. Not that I object to GMMTVs #1 Daddy Papang. Never that. 

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 2 of 12 - Ah ha, I figured it out. This reminds me of The Devil Wears Prada. I’m finding most of the rest of the interns too caricature and thus annoying. But I’m still liking this more than I expected. 

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 5 of 10 - The bullying GL subplot is just bad. And I’m getting an overall squick from the fact that the two rich privileged characters are essentially taking advantage of the two lower class poor characters. Trash watch here.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 8 of 12 - I’m coming around to Almond + Latte, but I’m not super sold on any of the other plot lines.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - It’s still good and it’s still sticking relatively closely to the mango. So I’m still enjoying it.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I just don’t really like the dynamic of the younger, poor, country kid desperately chasing the older hot boy. It’s a bit too desperate or something. It’d be different if Takara were a nicer person, but he doesn’t have much going for him but a pretty face.

It's airing but...

Meet You at the Blossom

In case you missed it

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - It's ended. Should I watch it? right now 1 vote for and 1 vote against.

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) - Got bumped to Aug 2. Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/24 I Saw You in My Dream (Thai Weds WeTV) - Dee Hup is behind this one so I have high hopes. Younger boy chronically teased his whole life by the older boy next door suddenly starts having horrific prophetic dreams about his bully and must save hime.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Such a Best Boy, not leaving his drink behind!

YES please.

Follow me here... these 2 in the Thai BL version of Tein Bromance X, which is to say: Mean assassin meets and falls HARD for snarky school teacher, they adopt a kid together. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO WATCH IT.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[idkwhatever580]

Where did you learn that?! Pt.3

Pt.1 Pt.2 Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: a few instances when y/n danced on the pole :)

Warnings: stripper pole, seggsual innuendos, mostly cuteness for this one :)))

A/N: these are just some pieces of the puzzle that I couldn’t create into a whole fic.

Y/n’s pov

1

I am feeling a little blue today so I go to my separate room that Tony made just for me.

It has everything my little pole dancer heart requires. And I can come and go as I please.

Sometimes I use it as a show room for Natasha but others I just practice.

And at times like these I go by myself and just go with the flow.

I change into a comfy yet perfect outfit for my pole session. And I warm up with a few stretches and then I go to the pole. I start some slow music and just do whatever my body wants.

After a while I think I want to send it to Natasha. Not to turn her on or anything. Just a pretty video. Since she’s on a mission and I can’t show her in person.

I start recording

Watch this vid :)))

Once it’s long enough in my mind I jump down and send the video to her with a soft smile.

I love sharing these moments with her even if she is far away.

Because it doesn’t even have to be in a sexual manner, the pole just makes me feel so happy and at home.

I can’t believe I ever stopped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2

I got a brand new type of pole today and I’ve been practicing on it while Natasha trains.

It’s a little harder than normal pole since it doesn’t attach to the bottom of the floor.

So I definitely have fallen a bit. But I keep going nevertheless. And I record every thing I do in case I get it.

After a lot of trial and error I finally figure it out with a few tricks and out something together.

Watch meee!!!

I hop down and make sure the pole doesn’t swing and smack me in the face before I run off.

Then I immediately send it to Natasha.

She’s always so supportive of me. She loves seeing me in the videos I send whether they be sexual or not. She just loves it.

And I love the attention she gives me when she sees them. (Pick me? Only for Natasha 🤷‍♀️)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3

I have been in my dance room all day today.

I have a pretty good set routine. Usually I would train for 5 days a week with one of the days being an all day workout I guess?

But now that I’m back into pole, I have switched out two of those days. The full workout day is now a full pole day. And one of my other workouts is pole.

Sometimes Natasha comes in and she walks in on the perfect moment and I get excited and say

“Oh my gosh natty!”

I run up to her and she grabs me as I accidentally trip a bit.

Maybe being upside down and spinning so much today has gotten to me a little. She laughs and says

“Woah there baby! We wouldn’t want you to get hurt now would we?”

I shake my head and say

“Sorry I just got so excited about this new entry I learned!”

She smiles and says

“Do you wanna show me?”

I nod my head and pull out her chair.

It’s a soft one that is perfect for when she gets a little personal show.

She sits down and I play the music and start.

Watch this pookies

I do the fast paced intro and she ends with a smirk and says

“You know, if you pair that with this dance that you sent me the other day it’d be golden”

I smirk and nod my head. So I redo it but adding the next part in

Watch 😋

I smile after rewatching the recording and I say

“Damn. You could be an instructor. That was good!”

She smiles and says

“I’m not the one who did the damn thing!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4

I wore a skinny red top to my pole workout today and I’m just realizing how good my back muscles look.

So I naturally set up my camera and did some tricks that really show off my muscles to get Natasha going.

Watch

She immediately threw her training stuff down and ran to my dance room. 😝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I want moreeee nowwww but I’m gonna post this and possibly make a pt. 4 if I can find anymore. I’m a horrible person I know guys 😭

@ihartnat @lvinhs

[angels-fantasy]

Girlyyyy I love your writing I just binged all your fics 😭😭😭 but anyway, I have a request.

Yknow how Bakugou is a comfort character to a lot of people, what if Reader was his favourite character from his favourite show (maybe a slice of life or romance anime where we're the second lead or a character who's not the main) and Bakugou listens to asmr audios of us or actively follows many accounts who write fanfictions about us and simp for us like we do for him 😔

This has been living rent free in my mind, so please indulge me 😔😔

You're His Favorite Character HeadCanons (Request)

Details: this is just me yapping tbh

Word Count: 202

imagining bakugou simp over someone is actually so funny LMAOO i love this idea thank you for it your mind is so powerful. btw i'm doing this in a more head-canon style if that's okay! i honestly couldn't really think of a plot for this but i really liked the idea 😭 if u ever wanna keep talking about it tho you can definitely message me or send more stuff to my inbox!! i love talking so don't be shy

firstly i feel like when he first starts watching anime, he'd watch more action packed ones, but slowly got into romance after he found the anime you were in!!

i think if it was a romance anime that'd be really cute. though you wouldn't be the main character, but the main characters best friend or something so you don't have a love interest bc Bakugou would probably get jealous tee hee

also if he read fics about you, he'd def go for some classic fluff me thinks. or maybe like an enemies to lovers!! i think he'd like a little angst with it as well, bc he's an angsty boy

i think that he would read all about your character and rewatch clips of you on youtube, yk? idk thats what i do for characters i really like lolol.

he'd probably be really secretive about his crush on you and make sure to not let anyone know he watches y/n asmr videos 😩 omg and if your character has merch he'd def buy it, maybe even a figure or something too!

but ultimately he's just obsessed with you and thinks your gorgeous and you guys are in love in his head 😍

authors note

i'm so sorry this was so short 😞 i hope you still enjoyed it! thank you sm for your message :)

tags for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot

[cl3fairyyy]

routine : part 2 || edward nashton x GN!reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

summary || you and edward finally go on a date

warnings || eddie is a liiiittle more stalker-y in this one, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of edward following reader home and just overall being his strange little self, this fic does get a little suggestive (no actual smut) so please MDNI!!!! i think that's everything, if i forgot anything i am so sorry </3 this fic is mostly just fluff with a side of awkward first date small talk

word count || 4.5k

notes || i am so sorry for the long wait on part 2!! been having the worst writers block of my life and my job has been taking over my life atm </3 but it is finally here!! i had so much fun writing this one, definitely thinking of doing a part 3 if u guys want it :)) apologies if at any point eddie is too OOC, he's definitely a little more confident in this one hehe. also this pic of paul is EXACTLY how I imagined him looking while writing this

You arrive back at your dingy apartment later than you had planned and, admittedly, a lot tipsier than you had wanted to be.  

You shove your key into the crappy broken lock that your landlord refuses to fix and jiggle it around for several moments until you finally hear a click. Opening the door, you sway on your feet a little before stumbling over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind you; when you plop down on the velvety throw you use to cover up the horrible cracking leather of your equally horrible sofa, you sigh and throw your head back, allowing a smile to play onto your face.  

He had asked you on a date.  

You keep replaying the interaction in your head, mentally swooning at how Edward had lit your cigarette for you, how he had been so close that you could smell the laundry detergent on his clothes. You giggle like a schoolgirl, hugging one of your cushions as you fish around in your bag for your phone. You have to suppress a giddy squeal when you are greeted with not one, but three messages from a random number, one you can only guess belongs to Edward. You feel dizzy unlocking your phone, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your nerves.  

Hi, it’s Edward. I hope you have a lovely rest of your night.  

I really liked talking to you today. You’re a very interesting person.  

Are you okay? It's late, did you get home safe?  

It takes everything in you to not dreamily sigh like you’re in a fucking rom-com. He's concerned about me, you think, typing a reply with a lopsided smile on your face.  

hiii yes im fine!! just made it home : )  

im vry drunk lol  

Immediately the grey typing bubble pops up and you launch your phone across the room, scrambling to the fridge to open the half-empty bottle of slightly too expensive rosé that you have been saving for the next time you rewatch Fleabag.   

You hear your phone ding twice and gingerly pick it up from underneath the coffee table, your hands shaking.  

Oh, good to hear that you’re safe haha. I was about to head back to the bar to see if you were okay.  

That was a joke by the way.  

You can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You take a swig from the bottle and begin typing.  

yea im sure it was lol  

it was nowhere near as interesting after u left. u were in such a hurry too are u ok??  

Edward’s cheeks grow red when he reads your second message. You think he’s interesting? Are you hinting that you would’ve preferred if he stayed?  

Wish I could have stayed for a bit longer haha, just had some work at home that I couldn’t get my mind off, so wanted to take another crack at it.  

Obviously, he can’t tell you that his work isn’t just some simple tax fraud, but a potential money laundering scandal that ties all the way back to Maroni and your own boss. He knows at this point, though, that you’re too polite to question him.  

u sure do work a lot!!!! idk how u havent burnt out yet.   

try to get some rest if u can : ) its not like the work wont be there tmrw!!!!  

Edward smiles. You are so lovely to him; the idea that someone like you could show so much kindness to him makes his heart swell and his eyes fill with tears. A few run down the tip of his nose and plop onto his phone screen.  

I know, I know. Sometimes it feels like I can’t switch my brain off haha. It’s been in overdrive since I got home.  

He cringes at himself. Is he meant to text so formally? You're pretty much the only contact in his phone besides his landlord and the office. He glances down at his screen, noticing that you’ve read his message but haven’t started typing an answer, and immediately begins to panic.  

Of course someone like you couldn’t like him. He was a fool to think you were any different than anyone else in this shithole of a city. You’re probably still sat with your colleagues at that shitty bar, reading out his messages and all having a good old laugh at him. Everyone get a load of Nashton! you're probably saying, and he feels sick to his stomach.   

soso sorry my phone just died out of nowhere!!! i srsly did not mean to leave u on opened  

honestly i get u i can be like that. its probably worse for u tho bc ur so smart lol  

whats been sending the brain of eddie into overdrive tonight??  

Edward shakes his head at how silly he’s being. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so pathetic. He reads your messages over and over until his eyes burn; no one has ever given him a nickname before. Eddie. He rereads the nickname, trying to imagine how it would sound coming out of your mouth. His mind begins to wander, picturing you lying beneath him, bare chest heaving as you moan that name to him. Eddie.  

He's snapped out of his thoughts when his phone lights up again with a notification from his news app. He attempts to push down his building arousal before it completely clouds his mind, and scrambles for his phone to send you a reply.   

It’s a little embarrassing, but... I have been thinking non-stop about the conversation we had outside.  

I really would like to take you out, if you’ll let me. If you’d like to pick where we go so you feel more comfortable, I’m happy with that. I’m sure you know much nicer places to go than I do anyway haha.  

You squeal at your phone, kicking your feet in the air like a goddamn teenager. You hastily type a reply, and soon enough you’ve made plans for Sunday to go to a lovely downtown jazz club that plays live music. It's one of your favourite spots in the whole city.  

You fall asleep fairly quickly after throwing yourself on your bed still fully clothed. You don’t think twice about how bad your hangover will be when you wake up, instead picturing your date with Edward and just how lovely he is.  

Edward, on the other hand, stays up all night, his thoughts rife with anxiety. You'd had one conversation in a loud bar, and now he’s expected to keep you entertained for an entire evening? What if you didn’t find him interesting? What if he ran out of things to talk about? What if you stood him up entirely?  

He shakes his head, trying as hard as he can to shake the thoughts from his brain entirely. He opens your social media, which he has found himself doing every time he seems to be on the verge of a panic attack recently. He finds his favourite picture of you, a candid photo of you in a coffee shop mid-laugh, your eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. He loves your smile in this picture.  

He hopes he can make you smile like that.  

Saturday goes by painfully slowly for you. The dragging hours aren’t helped by your awful hangover that seems to have convinced your brain that any slight movement will have you vomiting. You cringe rereading the messages you sent Edward the evening prior, hangxiety hitting you like a train.  

Eddie? Seriously?  

You have one conversation with the guy and have already started throwing nicknames around- you're in shock that you didn’t scare him off with how forward you were being. If he brings it up, you can always blame it on how drunk you were, which isn’t exactly a lie.  

He doesn’t text you until later in the evening, just a simple message confirming that you’re still on for tomorrow. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are, if his anxiety manifests itself in the way he chews at his lower lip the same way you do.  

When Sunday finally rolls around, you wake up extra early to give yourself as much time to get ready as humanly possible. You would never admit it to anyone, but you’d picked out your outfit the night before and laid it on your desk chair, your nervous excitement barely allowing you to get a wink of sleep.   

Edward had offered to pick you up, but you really do not need him seeing the shithole you live in the first time he sees you outside of work. You both agree to meet outside the bar, and since it’s in walking distance from your apartment, you decide against getting a taxi.  

Gotham is strangely beautiful in March, the last moments of winter finally coming to fruition. The sun is just beginning to set when you step out into the chilly air, casting an orange glow on the old buildings and warming your cheeks against the cold.   

Edward’s heart races as he clumsily stumbles out of the subway station. He's almost twenty minutes early and grasps a cluster of lilies in one hand, the other of which he uses to steady himself against a lamppost. The lady from his favourite podcast whispers soothingly in his ear as he attempts to block out the loudness of the city and steady his breathing.  

“You are strong, and you are worthy. Be the change you want to see.”  

He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths before finally grounding himself. Edward is all too aware of how he must look right now: sweaty, clutching a bouquet of flowers while standing alone outside a bar. He glances at his watch. Still ten minutes until your meeting time.  

He tries to ignore the lump in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. You will show up. You have to.  

Edward jumps slightly when his phone chimes in his pocket. His heart drops when he realises it’s a text from you.  

so sorry!!! running a few mins late :/ decided to walk today and ofc that’s the day that every traffic light in the city decides to break LOL  

The light-hearted tone in your message doesn’t do much to comfort him. He types a short answer and sends it, trying to focus all of his energy on his podcast and not crying from how utterly terrified he is.  

Ten minutes after your initially agreed upon meeting time, Edward hears a voice shouting his name. He looks up to be met with the image of you practically sprinting down the street towards him. You pull to a stop in front of him, smoothing your hair down and smiling bashfully up at him. Christ, you forgot how tall he is.  

“Before you say anything, I am so sorry. First there was the traffic light thing, then one of my old college friends stopped me in the street and decided that she wanted to update me on every single day of the past three years of her life.”  

You breathe in heavily through your nose, your hands on your knees as you try and keep yourself from keeling over. You make a mental note to begin using that gym membership you keep renewing. Quitting smoking would probably help, too.  

You look up when Edward hasn’t responded for several moments, and his cheeks are very pink.  

“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. If you want to cancel-”  

Before you can finish, Edward interrupts you by thrusting a bouquet of flowers into your hands.  

“Th-these are for you. I, um, remembered you mentioning lilies were your favourite flower, so...” He stumbles over his words, talking just a little too fast. 

You're quite literally lost for words. You examine the flowers, your cheeks growing warm; it's a lovely spray of pink, yellow and orange lilies, tied together with a cream ribbon. They’re a little crumpled, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little plant food. You smile at Edward.  

“Oh, Edward. They're gorgeous, really, thank you. No guy’s ever gotten me flowers before...”  

A small, lopsided grin spreads across his face.   

“I can’t imagine why anyone lucky enough to have you wouldn’t get you flowers.”  

You flush at that, and loop your arm around his, leading him inside. You manage to find a nice booth in the corner, away from the stage and speakers that surround it while Edward heads to the bar. You anxiously drum your fingers on the table and scroll through your phone, not really paying attention to what you’re meant to be reading as your mind replays what Edward had said earlier.  

Edward watches you from the bar, admiring the high flush on your cheekbones and the way your outfit hugs your body. By the time he’s ordered and heading back to your table, you seem a little more relaxed. You smile at him gratefully as you accept your drink and try not to make your staring too obvious.  

He looks handsome. He's wearing such a basic outfit, just a simple button up shirt and some smart slacks, but there’s something about Edward wearing something so casual and making it look so good that has you crossing your legs under the table.  

“You look lovely tonight, by the way.”  

You smile shyly at him, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.  

“Thank you, Edward. I have to say, you clean up pretty good yourself.”  

He laughs, and you don’t miss the way it sounds like it's one of disbelief.  

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”  

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink.  

“Well, I would. You look really handsome.”  

Edward shakes his head, a bashful smile on his face as he looks down, taking a sip of water. The pair of you sit there for a few moments in awkward silence, trying to think of something to start a conversation with. 

“So-” 

“You-” 

You lock eyes and both laugh, cheeks red. You wave your hand. 

“Sorry, you go.” 

Edward averts his gaze, fiddling with his collar. 

“I, um, was just going to ask how you found this place? I’ve never even heard of it. Well, I suppose the fact I don’t drink and don’t listen to jazz music doesn’t help, but...” 

Edward finds himself trailing off, kicking himself for how utterly awkward he is. The way you smile at him, unfazed, doesn’t help. 

How could someone like you ever find any interest in someone like him? 

“It’s a funny story, actually. My old roommate was on a date with this absolute dick, and she needed me to come save her. So, what happened was....” 

As you tell him the grandiose story of having to pretend to be your roommates' partner who caught her cheating, and how you had to run away when her date attempted to fight you, Edward can’t help but admire the way your eyes light up as you gesture wildly with your hands, the way your laugh comes out as an adorable snort when you attempt to do an impression of her very flustered date.  

You are so beautiful. He wishes he could capture this moment in a bottle and replay it every day, for the rest of his life. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s staring until you clear your throat a little awkwardly, clearly finished with your tale. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks. 

“Ah, well, I do hope you don’t have some secret boyfriend who’s going to jump out on me like that.” 

He bites his lip after saying whatever the hell that was, but to his complete disbelief you laugh. Not a pity laugh, not one of discomfort, but a genuine laugh, one that’s just a little too loud, one that disturbs some of the patrons around you. 

You clearly don’t care, your head thrown back as that smile, that lovely smile from his favourite picture spreads across your face. Even as you speak, uncontrollable giggles escape you. 

“Oh God, can you imagine? Lucky for you, I’ve been single for a while, so don’t worry about my secret boyfriend coming in and trashing the place.” 

That makes Edward laugh, much to your pleasure, and just like that, the tension in the air has dissolved. You can see Edward’s tense shoulders visibly relax, and the next few hours are spent under the warm light of the bar’s lamps, your conversations hushed and filled with longing glances, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world that exist. 

The two of you step out into the bitter cold of the evening, hands fumbling for your respective cartons of cigarettes. Your shivering hands are somehow able to summon a flame from your crappy old lighter, and the alcohol in your system, as well as the way Edward looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, warm you from the inside out. He offers you his arm and you take it maybe just a little too enthusiastically as you walk through the city streets. 

When you look up at Edward, he’s already got his eyes on you, the tip of his nose pink from the late winter air. You can feel the flush spreading across your face, quickly averting your eyes to the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers. 

Edward retracts his arm from yours, and you look up at him again, confused and somewhat offended. He’s shrugging his parka off his shoulders and draping it over your own before you can even comprehend what’s happening. 

“You’re shivering. You might not feel cold because you’ve been drinking, but I can see the goosebumps on your arms.” 

He says this so matter-of-factly. Does he not realise how romantic and thoughtful his actions are? He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Thank you.” 

He offers you that adorable lopsided grin that accentuates just how round and soft his cheeks are. 

“It’s really no problem. I don’t want you getting sick.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just how perfect the night has been. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Before you can second-guess yourself, you’re removing the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with a kiss. 

He's stiff at first, unsure, before you feel a hesitant hand on your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. 

“...Wow.” 

You suddenly feel bashful, pulling away from him completely and taking a drag from your cigarette. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologising?” 

You meet his gaze again, his glasses fogged up, but not enough to conceal the way his brow knits with worry, the apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I- I should have asked first.” 

He takes your hand in his own, his smile so comforting that you feel all your worries melt away almost instantaneously. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about asking me something like that. The answer will always be yes.” 

He kisses you again, softly, and you can taste the tobacco on his tongue, making your head spin. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly as he takes your breath away. 

You pull away first this time, readjusting his glasses which have slipped down his nose. 

“Do you want to come back to my place?” 

Edward’s face goes entirely red at your suggestion, and he stumbles over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence. 

“I- um, well...” 

You smile patiently, and he returns it somewhat hesitantly. 

“I’ve- I’ve really enjoyed our night together, and I, just, um... I like you so much that, ah, I don’t really think we should rush anything. You’ve had a bit to drink, and I would hate to take advantage of that.” 

Your eyes sting at his rejection as you attempt to muster up a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. Edward’s smile drops. 

“Oh dear, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” 

When you don’t quite meet his eyes, he sighs and gently holds your hand, giving you the chance to push him away. When you don’t, he pushes a little further, holding your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not lying when I say I like you. I really do, and I would hate to rush something as important as... that... especially when you’re intoxicated. I don’t want you to have any regrets. You're too special.” 

Your heart leaps at his words, and you give Edward a small smile. It was never about him, or his comfort. He’s worried that you’d regret sharing yourself with him. 

“I... yeah. I guess I’m just used to guys only expecting one thing out of a date. I really like you too, Eddie.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, offering you his hand. 

“Let me walk you home?” 

You nod, leaning into his side.  

Edward, of course, knows exactly where you live, but feigns ignorance as you take the lead back to your apartment. He'd know your building anywhere, thanks to his tendency to follow you home after work to ensure your safety, but being in front of it now, with you by his side, feels so fresh and new that it’s almost as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

It's falling apart, of course. Every building in Gotham that isn’t owned by someone extremely wealthy is. Crude graffiti adorns the crumbling brick walls, and he feels you stiffen up beside him when you notice a couple of shady guys, probably dealing drops, only a few feet away. 

“It’s not exactly... the best area. Will you at least wait for your cab in my apartment? I really don’t want you getting mugged, or worse.” 

Even with his impressive height, you’re worried Edward could be a target. His smart clothes definitely don’t help. 

Edward can hardly believe his luck at finally being able to see the inside of your apartment. Of course, he’s seen it from outside your window when he’s perched on your fire escape late at night, but this is different. This is intimate. Even though he’d turned down your offer for sex, you’re still revealing such a personal aspect of yourself to him. 

You trust him. 

You lead him into the rundown building, apologising for the elevator that has been broken for months. He already knows that, but nods anyway.  

“That’s okay. Five flights of stairs won’t do me any harm.” 

When you finally make it inside, he perches somewhat awkwardly on your couch, his height making the piece of furniture appear ridiculously small. You curl up on the other side of the sofa, giving him his space as he books an Uber home. 

The silence is thick, but comfortable. Edward is so engrossed in his phone that you’re finally given the chance to really study his features. The curve of his strong nose that holds up his glasses, the roundness of his cheeks, the softness of his jaw. The warmth of the numerous lamps scattered around your apartment light up his face with a soft glow that makes him look almost cherubic. 

Edward glances at you, clearly feeling your intense gaze. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as usual, his smile relaxed. 

“You okay?” 

You prop your head up with your hand and nod, content. 

“You’re so handsome, you know?” 

His cheeks grow pink, his smile a little more shy. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Thank you.” 

You lapse into another comfortable silence as he returns to his phone, the smile never leaving his face. His phone chimes and he stands reluctantly. 

“Cab’s nearly here...” 

You walk him to the door, and he lingers for a moment. 

“Can I-?” 

You don’t give him time to finish, tugging him down by his collar and pressing your lips to his in another soft kiss. His hands find refuge at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You run your hands up his sides, and he reacts with a delicious shiver to your utter delight. Gathering your nerves, you tease his lower lip with a nibble, and he chases your mouth with a soft groan when you pull away from him.  

You grin at his flustered state, his cheeks red and glasses fogged up, his sandy fringe ruffled beyond repair. You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before unlocking your door. 

“You said your taxi’s nearly here?” 

A chuckle escapes Edward, an octave lower than what you’re used to, and your knees go weak at the sound. He runs his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. 

“You are so cruel.” 

You glance down, immediately realising what he’s referencing, and giggle giddily. 

“You’ll just have to wait for next time, I guess.” 

He sighs, a dazed smile on his face. 

“So, you want me to take you out again?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, standing on your tiptoes so that your mouth is on level with his ear. You run a hand down his chest, your voice a sultry purr. 

“I thought that much was obvious.” 

Edward breathes out heavily through his nose and you smile innocently at him before kissing his cheek. The tension is shattered by the loud sound of his ringtone and you both jump back, the spell broken. Edward smiles apologetically at you when he answers the phone before panic spreads across his face. You can faintly hear a very angry man shouting at him on the other side of the line. 

“Yes, yes! Sorry! I’ll be right there! Sorry!” 

The other caller hangs up and you snort, pushing him gently out the door. 

“Don’t let me keep you any longer from the most awkward ride home of your life. Are you gonna tell the driver you left him waiting so long because you were making out with your colleague?” 

Edward stumbles over his words, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening.  

“I, ah, will not be doing that. Christ, I’m going to have to tip him even more than I was planning to, aren’t I?” 

You giggle and Edward laughs too, giving you one last quick kiss before practically throwing himself down the stairs. 

You close your door, sighing dreamily like the protagonist of a cheesy rom-com. You shoot Edward a quick text and sink onto your sofa, your heart thrumming. You'd gotten him to open up. You're going to go on another date. You kissed him. As far as first dates go, you’d chalk that up to being pretty successful.  

The rest of your evening is spent texting back and forth with Edward, and when you finally roll into bed your brain is clouded with thoughts of him, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re so focused on the image of Edward’s silly flustered smile after you kissed him for the first time that your rational thinking completely skips over one minor detail that you’ll have completely forgotten by the time you wake up. 

How did he know what floor you live on? 

[nikachansstuff]

(So I rewatched Atonement yesterday and couldn’t help the idea from forming.)

My dear Elain,

I am truly sorry for my words-

Azriel scanned the words freshly tipped, and for the third time in the last hour, he removed the paper from the tipping machine and crumpled it in his tight fists. He closed his eyes, resting his lips in his hands that still hold the paper, savoring for a brief moment the scent of parchment.

Eight months.

Eight months since those words had left his mouth during Solstice, ending whatever sparked between them, and making him the only witness to Elain Archeron’s heartbreak. Eight months following his High Lord’s command.

Eight fucking months thinking about her during the day and dreaming about her during the nights. Imagining possible scenarios if he only had had the courage to leave that damned office straight to her bedroom and beg for her forgiveness.

Azriel opened his eyes, and his fingers found the keys again. Impulsively, he couldn’t help the words from forming.

Dear Elain,

In my dreams, I kiss your cunt, your sweet wet cunt. In my thoughts, I make love to you all day long.

Azriel

His eyes scanned the words again, as he finished tipping, a half smile slowly curving his lips. He ripped the paper from the machine, and let out a heavy sigh, reclining in the old chair.

Shaking his head, he couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips, at the absurdity of the words. He would never be so bold to say that words out loud, or to deliver the note, now double folded next to his cup of hot tea.

But somehow, Azriel could picture it perfectly: Elain opening the paper, her milky skin turning a soft blush while reading the words. She would lose a breath, her lips would part as it did that night. Then she would bit her bottom lip, her shyness giving away for the desire she would feel. Or wouldn’t…?

Eight months.

A lot could change in eight months. They haven’t spoke since that damned night, and Azriel refused to give in to his need to track her with his shadows. He wanted it, only the Mother knew the effort it took to not throw away his morals, and just give in to have some news from her. But he stood against it and kept away from her. As Rhysand had ordered him to do. As he was foolish enough to obey.

But he couldn’t anymore.

Dearest Elain,

My headaches increased alarmingly since we last saw each other. And I don’t think I can blame our loud friends anymore.

Your gift remains untouched by my nightstand. I like to keep it there, as a reminder of you and your gentleness.

Please forgive me for my words in our last encounter. The truth is my absence is the only way to keep me from acting my longing thoughts.

The truth is the only mistake was stopping before I could finally fulfill my dreams.

Sincerely,

Azriel

He finished tipping and signed his name in a neat handwriting. Losing a soft breath, Azriel folded the letter, and place it inside an envelope. In a quick movement, he wrote Elain Archeron at the blank front of it, letting it at desk. Finally lifting from the old armchair, he could start getting ready for the tonight’s dinner, hosted by his High Lord and Lady, at the River House.

Azriel took three long steps in direction of his in-suite bathroom and called a single shadow that wrapped itself in his forearm. Please take the note to Elain, at the Townhouse, he commanded silently, while undressing and entering in the enormous clawfoot bathtub.

It took him longer than usual to bathe. He allowed himself a moment to just relax in the hot water, letting his thoughts travel far while he washed. He left the bathroom, his body shivering from the different temperatures between rooms.

Azriel was finishing adjusting the syphon on his right hand, when he allowed his eyes to travel to his desk. Where the envelope with Elain’s name still rested in the dark wood. He hesitated for a second, his shadows slowly closing in on his ankles.

Suppressing the terror that threatened to take over his body, Azriel searched for the folded note close to his teacup. His tea now cold, the note now absent.

Well…

Fuck.

—————————————

Should I continue it?

[icarusredwings]

Rewatched Deadpool 1. Took notes.

WARNING: Discussion of mental illness topics, ending yourself, trauma, violence, etc.

Civil debate/ conversation welcomed. Sorry its super long. I think a lot.

Notes:

You know what? We see Wade coloring a lot. What's our status on just giving him cartoons snacks and coloring books? He needs it.

I think we all forget how actually impressive this man is. I just watched this cancer having fucker do like 50 flips.

Whatta man is so Logan Howlett coded.

"Bad deadpool" "good deadpool!"

Deadpool has been helping kids for a while. He terrified a little creep while he himself was a huge creep.

Missed up his words and Vanessa smiled at him. With that "aw hes cute" kinda thing.

When talking about their childhood (whether he's lying or not, hes not about the uncle) and he outdos her so much that she giggles.

The first date he takes her ducking skiiballing instead of yk prostitute stuff

Hes so romantic oh my god.

Theyre giggling and joking like all the time. Personally thanksgiving is my favorite scene before he proposes with a fucking ring pop.

I shouldn't laugh but the way he said "wtf" when passing out

Vanessa instantly jumping to "what can we do? There has to be something" makes me instantly respect her as a chronically ill person myself. Partners who medically defend each other make me so happy because a lot of people divorce their partners when they get "too sick" let alone dont show up to specialist appointments.

Him accepting death so quickly is a sign of mental illness, and you can see him be confused on why shes so upset. Shes crying and hes sitting here like "why do you care if I die or not?" He physically feels so unloved that he just doesn't get it.

"I dont know. Might further the plot. " Oh, so you know about wades little mental tv show he puts on in his head as a coping mechanism?

Also... Weasel.. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE IS A WEASEL!? Shit sorry wrong movie.

Its not until now that hes crying because he realizes if he does then no more vanessa. We already know hes very co dependent and many people only care about themselves BECAUSE of other people. Which is also considered a sign of wanting to ☠️ self.

The whole "superheros are all lame ass teachers pets" thing is so funny if you think about how much beef he has with the xmen when in reality I have a feeling Wade would love charles in a "Ugh im in trouble with Daddy wheel chair again." COUGH "old bald heavens gate looking mother fucker" COUGH

"Thats not nice" No. But wade is genuienly not nice either.

"This is embarrassing. Please stop, " Colosus said what we all were thinking.

Bro literally cut/broke off his own hand and didn't whine a single time. If you ever. EVER hear this man express pain it is 99.9% his own choice to let you know that it hurts.

During his changing process, Francis says "the only thing that doesn't survive is a sense of humor" wade says "we'll see about that" and smirks.

What also makes sense to me is that he did NOT break easily. They did test after test after test and this man still wasn't breaking. His spirit is incredibly strong and as much as we enjoy joking about how stupid he is, Wade is extremely resourceful.

Its like he has created an alter ego of humor and kindess in order to keep up with the fact he DOES understand how fucked up this world is and whats happening/happened around him but refuses to acknowledge it until he has too. Ussually for survival.

Ive seen theories that he has DID or a type of Scizophreania and the voices in the comics are obviously in his head. I have mixed feelings about it because even his thoughts have thoughts of their own in some cases. Talking to no one is often a sign of abadonment, esspecially in children who are school age and get lonely when taken from their families to attend school. Its almost as if wade never lost his and hes subconsiously talking to himself to keep himself calm/ from panicking in high stress situations.

"But then how does he know hes in a movie" thats the thing. He doesn't. Hes pretending to cope. Main charaters cant die and until he dies he has this mental show/movie going on to keep himself from realizing all of this is true. That this is reality.

Cunningham mentions breakfast for his kids and suddenly, wade wakes up. Hes not joking anymore. This is a "oh shit... I wanna make breaktsst for my kids too... with my wife vanessa" moment.

"So whats wrong with him?"

Diiiiiddd we all forget about scout master kevin? Uncle? Dad? That fact that the oxygen was physically taken from his brain and was given Co2 poisoning over and over? For multiple days? This is the same man who blew himself up just to escape because they told him he wasnt going to see vanessa again.

And then he fought a guy naked, survived the entire building burning down, and now is so insecure about his looks that he thinks he made the baby cry in the street.

Theres people staring at him, flinching away, called names, people see him and cross the street. (So when he tells Logan that he knows his pain when it comes to public settings, hes not lying)

Blind Al is literally the reason deadpools suit is what it is. Why the idiot thought white was gonna be a good idea- See above. Unlike Al, who could smell the blood/ bleach.

I really love al. She's like the adult Toph.

"I hear everything in this duplex." OH, you poor thing.

"The guy that turned me into this freak-"

Al: *bitch im blind face*

As far as she's aware, he looks normal. Which is beautiful when you think about it, but it's funny when you think about the fact that he's so insecure about his face that he purposly found a blind room mate that couldn't judge him.

And they cuddle while he gets dating advice from grammie 🥹❤️

I really like how the entirety of Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children (HellHouse in the comics) stood up for Weasel. They're murderers. But they're family.

What they did to vanessa was straight fucked. Her fiance up and leaves without notice, youre just trying to work and live your life, you get kidnapped.

Negasonic is so cool. I love them.

Dopinder (The cab guy) is so cool too. I love him too. Kill that guy in your trunk. "Mr. Pool" reminds me of Tom holland spiderman.

"It is not boy band >:(" Suurreee it isn't.

"Wheres your duffle bag?" You mean his dollar general store tree hello kitty book bag filled with guns?

"Cue the music" *no one even gives a fuck at this point when he talks to the imaginary cams*

Negasonic mid battle: Hold on- "Hey Yukio, yeah I just gotta fuck shit up real quick, ttyl?"

"Sure thing! <3 You go baby!"

I dont know anything about negasonic but she reminds me of Gambit with her energy powers.

Like I said. Hes smart when its a serious situation because he immediately threw his katana into the glass so vanessa could breathe, only to immediately turn sappy and childish again when he sees her stab francis with it. Heart hands, is hallucinating because theres a knife in his brain (literally), sex joke. Etc.

Colossus shut the fuck up. Let this man kill him. He's hurt Soooooo many people. A bullet costs less then a dollar. His amount of therapy alone is going to be like *checks calculations* 80 billion.

"Not the nethers" Wade can and often does show proof of hurting but hed rather cut off his hand then let vanessa punch him in the balls. "Ow- owie 5000"

Hello Hugh Jackman.

After not seeing each other for so longer they instantly go back to the fibbing. "I live in the house with 12"

"You live in a house??" Funny guys get the girls. I should know. My wife says im super funny (yes im in therapy)

Pinky promises really matter to him.

Hes such a silly billy he brought out the phone with their song on it. God what a romantic idiot.

[zombee]

I feel like the luckiest Our Flag Means Death fan in the world after the season 2 finale. By a series of incredible circumstances - including a significant metatextual realization that came in at the 11th hour - it was close to perfect for me.

This essay has everything. Completely normal behavior over a television series. Steven Universe references. The David Jenkins School of Whatever is Best for the Bit. Humbling catharsis.

First: this piece does not exist with the central thesis of “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad.” I feel like thousands of words have already been written on this since Thursday, so I’m going to try to not get too in depth on that.

Second, cards on the table, because it’s relevant and I don’t want to waste your time if this is going to sour your ability to hear me out: I’m an Izzy Canyon hater. For MANY reasons, but from way before the concept of the Canyon existed, (some) Izzy fans pinged me in the same way as Snape/Kylo Ren fans did, and before May 2022 was over I went from genuinely enjoying Izzy’s character and place in the narrative to hating him because his fans made it impossible for me to enjoy him anymore.

(SOME! of his fans. Please don’t keep making me say this, although I’m not going to talk about the Canyon directly anymore after this. I know there are a ton of normal Izzy Enjoyers and even Canyonites, I am literally friends with many of them, please take this all in the good faith it’s intended and if you’re not One Of The Bad Ones then you’re fine! I very carefully don’t go anti-Izzy on main, and when I stopped enjoying his character, I stopped writing him into fics. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to be honest. Anyway.)

The season 2 finale made me weep over Izzy Goddamn hands.

ALL season long, I was disgruntled. All season long. I really, truly, DEEPLY appreciated what they were doing with his character and arc, I thought it was wildly on brand for the themes of community/queerness in the show, I saw the vision, I liked it!!! But. I wanted a fucking apology, yall. I needed three seconds of “sorry I called you a slur, Ed :/” and that would have been enough. But I had to let it go. It was poisoning my enjoyment of the whole season, which I loved with very little exception (not none!) and I just had to let it go. I wasn’t getting an apology. That didn’t negate what they were doing with his character.

Yall. They withheld the apology on purpose.

THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!

Let’s go back a bit. I was at the episode 6 + 7 screening, and the breakup shook me. Probably a LOT more than if I had watched it alone in bed at 3am on my laptop - five days of no sleep after NYCC, lots of emotions, seeing it on a big screen with a hundred other intense fans, etc etc - but I did see other folks reacting in parallel ways to me when the episodes aired to the regular public, so maybe I would have felt the same way. Regardless, I was mad at Stede and to a lesser extent Ed. I NEEDED AN APOLOGY FOR THAT FISH LINE. I needed it! “Whativah” autocorrects to “WHATIVAH” in my phone. I was going through it.

(When I rewatched the episode when it aired it was not nearly as bad as I remember, lol)

So now the episode 8 screeners go out and the reviews drop and I think I catch one half-glimpse of a “What a heartbreaking ending!” kind of snippet, and some of my friends who are spoiler fiends unintentionally drop little hints about similar ideas (devastating/heartbreaking/split the fandom) type shit.

And I was a fucking WRECK! about it.

I do love this whole show with my whole chest. I do!!! But I’m not rotted because this is an excellent television show, I’m rotted because two old men kiss each other! On the MOUTH!!! in an excellent television show. You get it, right? I’ve written 700,000 words across almost 100 fics and 98% of them are dedicated to those two men falling in love in different universes. 

So it just did not even occur to me the “heartbreak/devastation/fandom split” would be about anything but Gentlebeard.

Another piece of this that was fucking me up - David Jenkins and his “satisfactory” ending biz. My brain was reacting like this show was ENDING ending, even if I knew logically! that this is just season 2!!! And I wasn’t ready for that, because what if it wasn’t personally satisfying, and I’m a mess about it? Why was I so worried about not liking it? I’d liked the whole season! Even if they didn’t nail the landing I wasn’t going to stop writing fic or hanging out with my pirate community & friends. 

…is what I kept trying to tell myself, but the way anxiety disorders work is funny like that lol. What if I did stop writing fic and hanging out in pirate spaces? That would hurt much more than a show I like disappointing me. And for anyone who’s having that experience with ofmd s2, I’m so very, very sorry. It sucks and that’s where my epiphany came from on Wednesday before the finale.

Because it has happened to me before.

I flit from hyperfocus to hyperfocus, as ya do when you’re spicy, but the last thing to get its hooks in me PROPERLY like pirates was Steven Universe. And I did NOT like the way the regular season ended!!! (I actually really did like most of Future; that’s not what I mean. I mean season 5). I don’t like how they handled the Diamonds, tldr; I think the scope of their villainy got too out of hand, and I was left grieving the thing that had meant enough to me I ran a fan convention for four years based around it. 

Side note: imagine if I had channeled the hyperfocus of almost a million words of fanfiction into an American OFMD con instead. We could have made magic :( I did consult with Our Con Means Death though so I am at least a teeny tiny bit of that one!

I did not like the way Steven ended… but I do respect the story they were telling and think they told it well.

I’m still sad about it. Steven is still one of my most beloved, it will always be beautiful and great to me, but that experience did and does sully my memories. There is so, so, so, SO much more good than bad from being in that fandom, and I cherish it. And I hope, if you’re having this experience with OFMD right now, that you’ll find similar comfort.

But, like I said at the top, “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad” has been belabored already by people better at writing about it than me. I just had the incredible privilege to remember my brush with lower case T trauma and having that experience in my last REALLY big deal fandom. That’s why I had been so extra anxious about being disappointed. Because it happened to me before. It helped so much to connect those two.

So the finale happens, and it’s actually about twelve hours of me going from “eh, rushed but fun, whole season was great” to “THIS MAYBE IS THE BEST SHOW OF ALL TIME, ACTUALLY!”

BECAUSE THIS SHOW MADE ME CRY OVER IZZY FUCKING HANDS!!!!

They literally told me this was the story they were telling this season. “Men can change” “The end  of piracy” “Ed leaving Blackbeard behind (ish).”

As for me? I didn’t get an apology for the fish. Instead, I got “Sorry I was a dick.” “You weren’t a dick. Life’s a dick.”

Just… fuckity BAM. THREE FUCKING SENTENCES resolving that fight. Saying so much in so little.

In real life, should these two men have an actual conversation about this shit? Sure!!! But that’s not how OFMD tells its stories!

It works in symbolism. It works in vibes. It works in an hour’s worth of content into each half-hour episode, and for how much lamenting I have done about the pacing, I would prefer that 100x to having to stretch it out too much.

I have said since March 24, 2022 that OFMD wields anachronism as a weapon. First and foremost, it’s fucking funny, but in addition to that, it’s stating clearly: “This is a fantasy world. This is not real history. This show is about romance (and so much more than that), and the rest is just VIBES!!!”

Sometimes vibes can be historical accuracy. Sometimes vibes can be true emotional poignancy. Sometimes vibes can be Ed finding his sunken leathers in the sea, changing underwater somehow, and coming out of the ocean like the Birth of Fucking Venus, because water and rebirth and mermaids and shit is all very prominent this season. And ALSO, and this is very important! BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING COOL!

I don’t want to do much real Izzy meta here. It’s been said by others, and better than me. But it was telegraphed and it was symbolic – he was the paragon of Traditional Piracy in season 1, for goodness’ sake, and Traditional Piracy is Toxic Masculinity, and he was a part of Blackbeard and Ed had to leave Blackbeard behind (yknow, ish), and he got this ABSOLUTLEY FUCKING LOVELY! storyline about appreciating what a (queer) community can do, and god fucking shit fucking dammit… most of all, best of all (for me), was Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave at the end. Men can change. And Izzy DID!!! He did it for Ed. For love. For community. I am puzzled by “it’s fucked up to use Izzy to further Ed’s storyline” because… this was Ed’s season, in the way that season 1 was Stede’s. And Ed cannot be removed from piracy as a whole (neither can Stede!) so to have this old, set in his ways, coded-queerphobic character blossom to the point he can give this gift to Ed and to piracy… idk man. I just find it so fucking beautiful.

It is okay not to like what they did. It’s okay!!! It’s okay, and it’s okay to mourn, and while it’s not okay to do [insert vile behavior here], it’s okay to carefully examine what you think is “bad writing” vs “what you would have preferred to happen” and give good-faith, textually-based criticism on that.

But I want to remind you over and over and over again, this show works on vibes. It tells its stories leaving many, many, many gaps. There are many things I would have liked to see, and y’know what? I would have told the Izzy story differently. I would have personally done it differently. But it’s not my show! It’s not my show, and I am humbled and delighted to remember that, and to appreciate Our Flag Means Death for what it is and not what it isn’t.

Other words have been written better than I could about the 18 months between seasons 1 and 2 and what that does to us as rabid fans with expectations of how things will go. Millions and millions and millions of words have been written about OFMD, fictional and non, and that is going to color our expectations and experience. We had built it up SO MUCH in our minds and along the way I think some of us forgot (INCLUDING ME!!!) that it is first and foremost about Vibes.

The vibes of Izzy’s death are about rebirth and forgiveness and leaving traditional piracy behind. And he got to die in Ed’s arms, knowing (HAPPILY!) that he had been wrong, and giving Ed the gift of letting him know he is loved, and being a part of something. We had a funeral but we also had a wedding. The only constant is change. Men, piracy, Blackbeard; it all changes. And Izzy found peace in that.

Before my last point, I want to @ myself on things I felt versus realizing in the end it is (I will say it until I’m blue in the face) about vibes.

· I was convinced they left Buttons’ transformation ambiguous because they wanted to leave room for it not having been real. NO!!! It is real, until they decided it isn’t. Magic in the OFMD universe? Fucking why not!!! IT’S SYMBOLIC!!! IT’S IMPORTANT TO ED’S STORYLINE AND THE CENTRAL THESES OF THE SHOW!

· I was unhappy, and still am a little, about the Polycule Situation, but now that I realize Oluwande is Zheng’s Stede… I am less so. The Zheng : Auntie :: Ed : Izzy vibes, btw? Fuckin immaculate.

·        Obviously they touched on Stede/Ed’s “killing people trauma” but I’d reallyyyy like Stede to address it, and even though I think Ed’s is left on a very satisfying note, I’d like him to dip a bit more into it as well. But if they don’t, oh well! It’s not like they ignored it, they just didn’t have a Deep Dive like I Wanted Them To!

· They didn’t deal with Ed throwing Stede’s shit away. They just ignored it! Stede started to collect new trinkets, and I believe that was as much about giving the audience back the old feeling of the Revenge as it was anything important (not to say it wasn’t also important thematically!!!). Just like Ed going back to his leathers is both Extremely Important thematically and about putting Taika back in the leathers because that’s what Blackbeard should be wearing for the epic final scenes for the sake of visually keeping the show consistent. That’s Blackbeard’s uniform.

· Stede’s frilly little outfits my beloved. God I hope they give him back some of his frippery in season 3. I think they will re: cursed suit BUT his journey this season was about something else, so!

· Ed’s stupid little non-profit non-apology, oh my god. It was so funny. And there is a transition from eps 5 to 6 where Ed is back in his leathers and the crew is more comfortable around him. They didn’t have to have him do a Real Apology, it’s implied it was all settled. What was the timeline? A day? DOESN’T MATTER, BABY, VIBES!!!

· Lots more, I’m sure, but now that I’ve tried to let it all go, I’m remembering less of what I wanted and appreciating what I got!

And, last point here, I think it is also very very very important to remember that a lot of people are normal about this show. In fact, WAY more people are normal about this show than aren’t. And that is EXTREMELY! IMPORTANT!!! because otherwise it wouldn’t be profitable and we all know what would happen then. We are the core of it, to be sure. Without word of mouth that stems from our intensity, this show would not be NEARLY as successful as it is. I truly, truly believe that.

But.

Do normies need deeply emotional discussions dissecting the central relationships? No. What normies need is Ed and Stede running dramatically toward each other on the beach and kissing. And I am happy, so fucking happy, to realize that’s what I need too. I’ve got fanworks for the rest.

I love this fucking show and this fucking fandom and its fucking creators so much. Fuck.