#there's substance to her personality. she isn't too generic. she backs up her words it doesn't feel toothless

[helpimstuckinafandom]

Book 1 didn't hit like this my god

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 91 (Conrad's Strange Trip)

cw: drinking, ingesting a mind-altering substance

Conrad pulled his cruiser through the gates of Bella Goth's estate in Cavalier Cove. The coastal mansion gave little indication of the paranormal-obsessed inhabitant who owned the property, but Conrad still always felt a chill when he walked through the front door.

Bella swore the house wasn't haunted. Conrad had never seen a ghost so he had to take her word for it, but the home did have two new permanent residents since he and Heather had last visited with the kids. In addition to Alexander and Lydia's newborn son, Jagger, Bella had welcomed a new pet.

"She's a gift from Grimmie. He's off reaping so often, but this crow can travel well enough to send messages between us when we're apart."

"She's beautiful, Mrs. Goth. But don't you worry about things like...bird flu? Especially with a newborn around."

"You don't really think I'd endanger Alex and Lydia's son, do you? My own grandson! Crows are among the most hygienic of all birds, you know. And she's a great little mimic. Watch."

The crow jumped from her wooden pedestal and onto Bella's hand. She spoke a few words in basic Simlish, waiting for her new pet to croak back, 'Nay-doo.'

"What's her name?"

"I haven't decided yet. Do you have any ideas? I thought Grimbella was nice, but Grimmie says we shouldn't name her after ourselves."

Conrad broke a smile across his tense cheeks. "I can't help you, Mrs. Goth. I didn't even name my dog. And, Solomon Wolff, my first partner back in San Myshuno, named him after me."

Bella shrugged with a gentle smile for Conrad and her crow. "I'll sleep on it. Maybe her name will come to me in a dream, or maybe Solomon Wolff will tell me what her name is."

(Surprise! Thank you @deardiaryts4 for making this headcanon canon with me! These two helped bust a puppy mill together as young officers, and Conrad ended up raising one of the pups who followed him back to their cruiser. Solo called him Gord because he was attached to Officer Gordon, and the name stuck. How Bella exists separately and prominently in overlapping storylines both totally makes sense and is outrageous but it need not be explained right now. Just enjoy the ride! Also, taking suggestions to name that crow! Grimbella isn't officially off the table, either.)

Conrad cleared his throat. "River dropped by and told me to come see you. But...I don't really know what I need to talk about."

"Conrad, you look tired." The words were accusatory, but there was only concern in her voice. "Let me mix you a drink. Text Heather, let her know I insisted you stay a while to relax. I'll watch your kids soon to make it up to her. Sometime when you're working late again."

"It's been a long few months," he admitted, following her to the long wooden bar in the dining room. "I know everyone's worried about me."

"So why won't you talk to anyone about it?"

He wavered. "Because sometimes the less people know, the safer they are. I shouldn't talk to you about this, especially since I can't figure out how to tell Heather, but if I don't talk to someone I might lose my damn mind...Have you ever heard of Los Tigres de Selva?"

She nodded. "My grandmother, Enriqueta, was from Selvadorada, but her family got her to Sunset Valley when she was small. They didn't want her to stay because of the cartels."

"I walked away from a case involving them today."

"They're in our ports?"

"They don't smuggle much through here. Probably because our ports are jammed with ice too many months of the year and it's not profitable, but this case...it's sorta personal."

"If you keep pursuing the case, will your family be in danger? You've told everyone you were handling it."

"I've tried. But last night Heather noticed how hard it's been to keep the case separate from everything else, and after River visited today I realized what it's been doing to me."

"This doesn't have anything to do with the woman Heather saw sneaking around outside your house before your daughter was born, does it?"

"She told you about that?"

"No, Cassandra told me because she wanted me and her brothers to be careful if there were any dangerous people lurking around town. And it sounds like there were...Are they still?"

"I really hope not."

Bella nodded. "So they are."

"Why do I always forget you spent a bit of time working as a secret agent?"

"Because they spent more time trying to figure me out than letting me do my job so I rarely talk about it. When Dex came along I said, 'Screw it.' Nothing's more important than family, and that's been my life since I quit."

"Well, you got more out of me than anyone else without much effort, so just know you've still got it."

"I don't know all your secrets, Conrad. I still don't know why you kept it from Heather, but my gut says you're ashamed of something."

"I feel shame about my past. And I feel shame because I should have told her months ago and I kept putting it off. I should have told her years ago. It just got harder and harder to say anything because no matter what, it'll look like I didn't tell her because I have something to hide."

"Do you?"

"There's a lot she doesn't know. There's a lot nobody knows, after my father died."

"Secrets are important to keep sometimes, and I understand wanting to keep her safe if the truth puts her in danger, but you know Heather. She likes honesty."

Conrad stared at the empty glass on the bar. "Heather's the love of my life. I can't lose her because I made stupid choices until my dad bailed me out with what amounted to his dying breath."

Bella thought quietly for a moment, taking a seat at the empty barstool. "You're a fascinating man, Conrad Gordon. Your father would be proud to see what you've made of yourself despite any mistakes of your youth, but something is causing you to go backward. I could press and I'm quite sure you'd tell me everything because you clearly need to talk about it, but..."

"But if I tell you before I tell Heather, I'm an even bigger ass than I've been. And still, knowing that, it doesn't make me want to run home and tell her."

"You know who might be able to provide better guidance than anyone who lacks the hindsight of death? The mentors."

He shook his head with snide laughter. "How did I know you were going to suggest travelling? Mrs. Goth, I have to work in the morning."

"And you know it only takes a few minutes!"

Maybe it was the liquid courage, but Conrad found himself agreeing and followed Bella upstairs. The seance table had been moved into their upstairs hall, with the old attic room turned into a nursery for Alex and Lydia's newborn son.

Conrad took a seat across from Bella, letting her lead just like last time. She chanted her Omiscan summons, with Conrad's palms open on the round wooden table draped in purple and gold cloth. A blue flame flickered above their heads, and Conrad was transported to the Realm of the Dead. He knew Bella wouldn't pull him out prematurely, so he walked cautiously toward the flame.

When he'd returned, he asked how long he'd been gone. A cold sweat broke on the back of his neck.

"You were gone much longer than usual - about twenty minutes. What did you see?"

"I need a drink, Mrs. Goth. The strongest drink you know how to mix."

"Don't you work in the morning?" she countered, but his pained expression gave Bella pause. "I know one drink. It clears your mind of all the jumbled thoughts you can't take with you...when you pass on. Only the most important thoughts and memories remain while you're in this state. But I can't let you drive home if I make it for you."

"Mrs. Goth, what I just saw...I don't understand it. If it'll unscramble my thoughts, I..."

"You can stay here for the night, and I'll tell Heather you helped me with a computer virus."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to be lying to Heather."

"Do you want to tell her you're going to spend the next few hours living as a ghost?"

"Living as a what? Are you going to...kill me?"

"Of course not! Think of it a bit like, oh, I don't know, ayahuasca. It's an out-of-body experience, but it can be mentally transformative! It helps give perspective on the things that really matter to us when our world is clouded with too much fear and worry. It's made with gin and crushed death flower petals, but it won't leave you hungover. Once the effects wear off you'll be fine to head to work tomorrow morning."

They headed back downstairs and he called Heather. Because he was with Bella, who they'd come to trust like family, she made no complaint over him taking a night to combat his stress by getting stuck into a computer problem. Though guilt pecked a hole in his stomach, they exchanged their usual 'I love you' before he hung up. Bella mixed him another cocktail - this one bright green and glowing with spectral gases. "When you travelled for twenty minutes, you must have been gone for close to a year..."

"Almost exactly twelve months."

"What could the mentors have wanted to show you for a whole year?"

"I didn't meet any mentors, other than the professors I already had. I relived my first year of college."

"Fascinating! I've heard of this but never experienced it. I used to hope the mentors could show me where I went when I disappeared and lost all memory of my time away. The mentors let people relive the past if they have an opportunity to make amends for something or if they're sending a warning, so maybe my time away was just boring and uneventful."

"Seems pretty unlikely with you, Mrs. Goth."

As she spoke, Conrad sipped the glowing green cocktail. When he'd finished his drink, he looked down. The empty glass appeared to float on thin air, and he could scarcely make out the faint lines marking his fingertips. He really was a ghost.

Bewildered, he set down the glass on the bar and turned around. Bella watched him with excitement, trying to read his face for a reaction. "Jump-scare!" he shouted, and Bella gasped.

"You're getting better at that," she said with a laugh.

"Jump-scaring feels easier without a body to drag around. But I can't let Heather and the kids see me like this. How long does it last?"

"The sofa's all yours until you've sobered up, and you'll be back to normal by then. But tell me: who are you thinking about right now?"

"Heather and the kids, like always."

Bella smiled. "Good. That's the most important thing. Now go ahead, possess some of the furniture and get this out of your system. I know you want to."

He knew it was time to tell Heather the truth, but tonight, his mind - and body - wasn't right for such a serious conversation. After Bella and her family had gone to bed upstairs, he floated around the house with the cats tailing his every move. Finding the piano open and unattended, he grinned mischievously. Bella was right. He felt an uncontrollable urge to possess the sturdy instrument and jumped inside.

Possessing furniture was a lot harder than it looked, with the treble strings catching on his broad shoulders each time he floated upward. Still, he'd rather possess a grand piano than a litter box.

He had his fun before he passed out on the sofa. For a few hours, he had practically forgotten Ximena's name. But as morning came, he woke remembering what Bella had said about the mentors. He thought finding Rafa would make amends for his past, but it had only caused trouble and he still couldn't find him.

As Conrad headed to work, he wracked his brain trying to figure out what the mentors had wanted him to notice. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Thursday's flashback will let us all see what Conrad saw!

NOTE 2: Not the most responsible night for ol' Conrad, but the stress is still there despite telling Ximena to take a hike. Between fearing her and knowing Heather needs to know the truth but fearing how that conversation will go, dude's cracking! We may judge. Also I wasn't entirely positive what the drink would do before I had Bella make it for him. I had an inkling but didn't look it up, so this was technically an unplanned night of dropped responsibilities for Conrad, who's built a very responsible rep!

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Pure Heroine Series Part Three - Buzzcut Season

Summary: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but now, you're grown up. Nothing stays as it was. | Album Inspired series "Pure Heroine" by Lorde.

Warnings: Mutual Pining, friends to lovers, fluff, some typical trope angst, high school to college, making out, drinking, substance abuse, fighting, implied compulsory heterosexuality | Words: 1.024k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Pure Heroine Collection |

-&-

The road was silent. Not the comfortable kind like the hundreds of road trips before it, when you and Wanda were kids and fell asleep in the back seat after playing on the beach all day. No, it was the kind of tense silence, almost enough to make Wanda want to get out of the car and walk all the way across the state.

You sighed softly in the seat, and Wanda gripped the steering wheel, expecting an argument to break out. Instead, more silence came. She risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror and felt her shoulders relax as she realized that you had fallen asleep.

Nobody stays angry after a good nap, her mother used to say. 

So Wanda remained quiet, the whole way back to campus she spent rehashing everything that had gone wrong the previous morning, and her guilt about the whole thing didn't let up. It was she who gradually turned all the excitement of a weekend at the beach with her best friend into anger and frustration after a whole semester of not being able to breathe properly outside of assignments and exams. 

She was the one who started acting strange from the moment you mentioned the girl who asked for your number in calculus class, who left you alone with the drinks when the bar attendant flirted with you, and who disappeared for a long moment after girls in bikinis tried to get your Instagram back at the sand. 

Wanda couldn't explain her peaks of jealousy without exposing her true feelings, and Saturday ended like your patience without an explanation.

Now you were distant and hurt, and she was considering getting out of the car.

When you woke up, the university was already in sight. Wanda didn't blame you for staying quiet when you parked, or for not trying to start any conversation on the way to the dorm, backpacks slung over your shoulders.

Wanda needed a long shower, to relax her muscles and clean the sand properly. But you threw yourself on the bed when the backpack hit the floor, and the figure with a face sunk into the mattress made her close the door to the dormitory you two had shared for the last six months and counting.

"Can we talk?" Wanda risked and waited until the silence turned into a sad laugh.

You turned your face on the bed but didn't adjust your body towards her, remaining lying down. "Are we going to talk, or are you going to shout at me again?"

“I didn't shout…”

It makes you sit up with indignation. "Yes, you did." You interrupted her, your expression serious and hurt. Wanda almost shuddered, she didn't know how to handle this look on you. When did you two ever have a serious fight in all those years of friendship? She honestly couldn't remember. "Not just today, by the way. Last week, with Darcy and Monica, you practically insulted me out of the game. I thought you were being a sore loser, and I let it slide, but now... damn it, this has been going on for a long time, Wanda." You snap. "I don't know what's going on with you. You don't seem to want to be around me anymore. I don't..." You sigh, and Wanda swallows dryly, taking a step forward.

"It's not like that." She mutters, not meeting your gaze, and you sniffle slightly, standing up.

"This is about the dorm, isn't it?" You ask, not giving her time to understand what you mean. "It happened to Steve too, when he and Bucky started sharing a room. It's just, a lot. It's different when you live with your friend, with all the other person's quirks and differences... I understand if you're tired of me. I could ask for a switch."

Wanda immediately shakes her head, confusion turning to indignation. "What the fuck are you talking about? I don't want you to move out."

But you chuckle sadly, wiping a hand across your face. "I honestly don't know what you want any more, Wanda." You retort, upset. "You're distant and mean. You can't seem to stand being around me most of the time, only to climb into my bed at night wanting to cuddle. Then you ignore me the next day. I just... It's exhausting. If you want to tell me to fuck off, give you more space, just do it. Stop this rollercoaster. It hurts me."

Wanda considers your words, unable to detach herself from the truth behind them. The way she has been treating you, and hurting you almost on purpose. That's how selfish she could be - the lack of reciprocity hurt her, and if Wanda couldn't make you feel the same, at least she could hurt you too.

And acknowledging that to herself made her sick.

You sighed at her silence and approached only to go around her and open the door. With your hand still on the doorknob, you looked at her from the shoulder.

"Tell me what you want when you're ready, Wanda." You asked gently. "We're not like Bucky and Steve. We'll make it work. We always do."

Wanda turned around, but you had already left the room.

She'd like to say that she ran after you. Or at least called. That she found you the next day, apologized and you talked for hours in your favorite place.

But she did the opposite of all that.

Wanda called people, but people who didn't get along with you. She got new clothes, new friends, new drugs. She learned how to really party, the kind that puts out anything she wants with alcohol, for as many hours as her body can take.

And every time you tried to reach her, she pushed you away until you got tired of trying.

Her father called her, wanting to find out why she was missing family lunches. He also asked about you.

Wanda lied that everything was fine and stopped answering her phone.

And every time her brain insisted on thinking about you, she found someone to drag the memory away. 

Soon, you also stopped viewing her posts.

[famwhy]

Saviour Complex

Yandere! Tangerine X Reader

Act 1 | Act 2 | Act 3

Synopsis: One night, you're pushed straight into an incoming train, causing everything to go black. When your eyes open up once more, you find yourself in a completely different country and face-to-face with your favourite character whose demise was right around the corner. Too attached to the man, you find yourself hatching a plan to save him - unaware of the consequences.

Word Count: 7,556

Act 1 - Regrets, Regrets, Sinking in Regrets

The rough, bumpy texture of a fruit grazed the nerves of your skin briefly before it disappeared immediately - spinning through the air and landing back in your palm with yet another small burst of gravity.

"Stop throwing and catching that dumb orange of yours, you don't look cool."

The biting words of the person next to you could be perceived as venomous by any passerby who decided to eavesdrop in that split second; to anyone who didn't know her personally. You knew her though - you spent your whole life with her, how could you not know her? 

Your beloved sister.

"Tangerine, you mean." Your lips split open into a smirk as you corrected her.

Your words caused her brows to furrow in deep irritation on the surface, but, underneath it all, you could tell she wasn't actually mad with you.

"Same thing." She scoffed.

"It really isn't."

She gave you a look, one you were familiar with; a look which told you that she found what you just said utterly ridiculous.

"They literally look the exact same."

"But they aren't."

"Oh shut up." She huffed, one arm crossing over the other in a display of irritation. "You were never so picky about their difference until we watched that stupid movie."

You were torn between lighting up at the mention of your newly-crowned favourite movie, or showcasing your offense towards her critique of said movie.

In the end, you chose to do both.

"Okay, one, that movie isn't stupid-" she rolled her eyes as you spoke, "-and two, I can't go butchering the alias of my favourite character, now can I?"

"I don't get what you see in that guy." 

Being sure to exaggerate it as much as possible, you let out a loud gasp.

"How could you say such a thing?!" You proclaimed. "He is so cool and I love his accent."

"You literally have the same accent." She deadpanned.

"Yeah but I don't sound as good as he does." 

"You don't sound good in general."

You exhibited yet another over-exaggerated gasp.

"My own sister," the palm of your dominant hand pressed against your chest, fingers curling around the soft fabric beneath them, "treating me in such a way..."

"Oh, get over yourself." Another scoff left her lips, "I don't see how you're still such a carefree person despite what we used to do for a living."

For a moment, the grin on your face faltered and a flicker obscured your vision of reality. But that was all it was, a flicker - and it was only just for a moment. It was gone the next, you swore it was! No crimson substance stained against your mind or hands; no cold steel felt against the heat of your palm as your index finger wrapped tightly around that little lever; no screams that echoed through the confines of your head over and over and over-

-no, none of that. Not anymore, at least.

You were over that.

It was done and dusted.

It was thrown under the rug, ready to compile dust and slowly wither away through the teeth of the critters that lived alongside it.

It was never to be seen again.

At least, not by your hands.

"-ey! Hey!" 

Your eyelids met several times in rapid succession as you blinked away the sudden blur that kept you from seeing the concave of your sister's lips.

Ah, see? She did care for you.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was light, barely there, with a sense of gentleness she wouldn't be caught dead exhibiting towards anyone that wasn't you. "I didn't mean to, I was just... I didn't mean it."

"Nah," a small huff left your lips as they curved up into that familiar, carefree grin, "it's fine, I don't care anymore."

The way her expression didn't shift in the slightest was enough to tell you that she didn't believe you. However, even if she had her doubts towards your words, she chose not to speak more on the matter.

After a few beats of silence, a large red vehicle slowly approached from the horizon - emerging as though it was Harley Quinn pulling herself out of the toxic substance the Joker decided to drown her in.

There it was, your bus.

"Listen," your sister's voice was quieter than normal, tender and soft around the edges - still speaking as though what she brought up had bothered you, "I just want you to know that... I find it hard too. You're not alone in this. I was there with you too."

You paused for a moment, standing right outside the open doors that led inside the vehicle. 

Then, you took one step on, your hand reaching for the pole inside. Not too long after, you tilted your head towards your sister - towards Lena - and smiled, "I know."

With that, you thrusted the rest of your body onto the vehicle and sent her a wave as it started up - the screeching sound of its wheels being drowned out by the sound of the engine starting back up.

And then, you were off.

.

.

.

The glow of the night sky shined through the see-through walls of the office, lighting up several seats as it bounced off the monitors resting on each desk.

It was quiet, the only sound being the clicks of your heels against the solid ground, approaching the switches on the wall to turn off the one light that remained on. The one hovering over your desk.

With a flick of your finger, the only yellow glow in the room faded away to allow for the moon's blue rays to completely take over.

You didn't mind night shifts, they were comforting - some might even argue - relaxing. 

They had this feel to them.

One where you could remain unbothered, trapped within the confines of your mind forever to wonder what exactly life had in store for you next.

There was once a time where you hated being left to your thoughts; nay, you loathed it. 

Being left with your thoughts meant being left with your memories; being left with your memories meant being left with the haunting actions of your past; being left with said past actions meant being left with that same voice that berated your existence.

It was frightening.

It was terrifying.

So you ran from it.

You ran until it affected you no longer, you ran until your legs started to ache from the pain; until your lungs shrivelled up from the lack of air that it was so gluttonous for. 

You ran until you had left it all behind.

But even then, it still came back to haunt you.

Even then, you couldn't help but catch little glimpses of hair that would disappear past the sharpest corners - hair that seemed to belong to one of them.

But that was impossible.

After all, you-

Your head shook from side-to-side, eyes finally returning to reality and finding yourself right by the lights of your office, finger still hovering over the switch.

You sighed.

It was time to go home.

Your hand instinctively rose up, gripping the disk that surrounded the hat on your head and pulling it down slightly to ensure it stayed there. 

Then, your fingers curled tighter around the handle of the gray briefcase and you set off, footsteps swift as they echoed down the empty corridor.

With a 'ding!', the doors to the rectangular space parted to allow you to fill the vacant spot inside.

You stepped in, curling your other hand around the handle of the briefcase as you held it in front of you and leaned against the cold, metal railing. 

The glass at the back of the elevator provided for a good scenery that overlooked the night sky twinkling over the busy streets of the city; still ever-so-alive despite the time.

One particular puff of air that left your mouth fogged up the glass in front of you, the sight filling you with a familiar childish sense of delight and, before you even knew it, one of your fingers rose up to draw two lines and an upturned curve underneath before it returned to the briefcase once more.

A small smile drew out your lips as your eyes fell half-lidded.

The moment was then interrupted by the 'ding!' of the elevator once more.

You turned around, stepping outside before tipping your sunhat at the male stood with a phased-out look in his eyes, adorning a black hat of his own with the word 'Security' printed onto it.

Luckily, he wasn't phased-out enough to not notice your greeting, to which he returned with a small, nervous smile of his own.

One of the cuter security guards of your building.

A particular strong breeze had your hand clutching tighter onto your hat and your eyes squinting, trying to avoid any dust from getting inside.

The street lamps illuminated the road as many individuals rushed by, ranging from stressed business men to childish couples wishing to play a game of tag with one another.

You didn't stay too long to observe though; no, you couldn't. Didn't have the time. Your sister was probably awaiting your arrival with anxious, clattering teeth - wondering what was taking you so long while not daring to admit that she was worried for you.

Your eyes travelled over to the stairs in the middle of the street, leading downwards into the network of tunnels connected underground to allow for easy access to many different places in the country. 

Soon, your heels were clicking against those stairs, traversing down them to get to the tracks you would need to wait by to be able to set course home.

You stood at a queue, waiting to scan your card. It wasn't a long wait. It never was. At least, not at this time of night. Many people preferred snuggling under a blanket at home and watching a movie with a few snacks rather than having to work a late night shift where who-knows-what could go wrong.

Once you scanned in, you swiftly made your way to your platform, not needing to take the smallest glance at the signs to be able to know where to go. By now, it was all muscle memory anyway.

As you approached the rails, your heels made contact with a prominent bump on the ground - causing you to stumble the slightest amount before you were able to regain your footing just like that.

Now, it was just the waiting game.

You were a professional at waiting. Patience was practically your middle name; it had to be if you wanted to get your previous job done quickly-

-or... the job you had currently. Right, this normal, little office job. You had to be patient when waiting for the printer to be done with your papers, or awaiting an email from a co-worker of yours. Patience was key.

Patience was also risky.

In the time that you were patient, so many things could happen. You could wind up with your hands tied up in a basement because you decided to be patient and wait for your friend; or you could wind up with a gun to your-

"Enjoy hell, you murderer!"

Now, your reflexes were normally stupendous. Out of this world, really. When someone wished to deliver a rapid left jab to your face, you would twirl your body to the side to avoid it. Or when they went in for an uppercut aimed to take out your jaw, you would take one step back too quickly for them to react.

You wished you could claim your reflexes were good in this instance too- but it had all happened so fast.

The flashing lights of the incoming train; the harsh shove against your back that sent you tumbling over the platform; and the searing, white, hot pain that exploded against your side like a highly reactive chemical would with water.

So quick. So sudden.

So painful...

For a split second, everything went black.

Then, your eyes opened back up again.

The first thing you noticed was that you were stood upright, exactly as you were before being pushed - waiting in almost the exact same position. The railways right in front of your vision would have been enough to trick you into thinking that was all a daydream; some cruel concoction your mind conjured up to punish you for your sins.

You would've believed that whole heartedly had it not been for the fact that you were no longer underground.

The light of the moon was barely prevalent with the harsh illumination that was emitted from the lamps of the train station. There were a lot more people at this platform than the one you were previously at, the chatter was also louder than before; lively and sporadic, as though nothing just happened. As though you didn't just die.

You blinked slowly, brain struggling to process what, exactly, had just happened.

You died... didn't you?

No way you went through that pain and didn't die.

Someone pushed you into the tracks as a train was incoming.

How could you have possibly survived that?

Your head glanced from side-to-side as you noticed the people around you - specifically, their features. It differed from the Western features you were used to seeing in your day-to-day life. Instead, they looked to be East Asian, Japanese if your geography skills were doing you justice.

Another thing you noticed were the signs.

They weren't in English, instead filled with the symbols your mind automatically associated with the Japanese language.

You were in Japan somehow.

Was this some sort of final dream?

No way you imagined all that pain- that abrupt slam against your side that caused you to wince just thinking about it. 

Before you could further indulge yourself in the expanding, vast sea of your thoughts - a sudden pick-up in the breeze sent your hat flying straight off your head and towards your left.

A small gasp left your lips as your hand reached out, fingers stretching and just barely grazing the ridge before it picked-up speed once more and narrowly escaped your grasp.

It was then that you decided to rush after it, careful to steady yourself lest you stumble over your heels.

Luckily, you didn't have to move much for, soon, the ridge of the hat was caught by a set of fingers that grasped onto it before holding it out towards you.

Your own hand reached out, grasping the other end of your sunhat as you lightly pulled it down - ready to meet the eyes of the one who saved your beloved hat and thank them.

"'ere you go, love."

Your mouth fell open, agape in pure astonishment and disbelief.

The way this person didn't pronounce his 'h'; the way he gave you that specific nickname; those familiar incredibly handsome facial features that belonged to ATJ himself.

This person was-

"Tangerine..." You whispered lightly under your breath, voice practically inaudible as it was drowned out by your pure amazement.

"Sorry?" Your favourite character rose one of his eyebrows, cockney accent as prevalent as ever.

Was this guy really Tangerine? There was no way, right?

"Oh, uhm, I said thank you." 

He nodded briskly, about to turn and board the train when a voice called out to him.

"Oi! You coming?"

Another cockney accent paired with the broader figure and unique, silver-dyed hair that belonged to the brother of your favourite character.

That was Lemon, there was no doubt about it.

And if that was Lemon, this was definitely Tangerine.

You watched as Tangerine's facial features shifted, brows furrowing and lips tugging down as he turned towards his brother's direction. "Yeah, I'm coming! Hold your fuckin' horses, mate!"

He then immediately turned back towards you, eyes slightly wider than before. "Beg your pardon, love. Sorry, I forgot there was a lady present for a moment."

His chivalry was cute, and his looks just made him all the more attractive in your eyes.

Before you could even realise it, your lips curved upwards into a huge smile and a small, amused giggle left them as your eyes shone with mirth.

Once again, you seemed to have caught him off guard, causing his eyes to widen a little more as he paused for a moment. But that was all it was, just a moment. The next, he was shaking his head and heading off towards his brother without another word.

Holy shit, you just met the Tangerine!

The same Tangerine that you gushed to your sister about, complimenting his strength and looks and amazing accent.

But if you just met Tangerine... and you just saw Lemon with him... did that mean..?

"Holy shit! I'm in Bullet Train!"

One of your hands rose up to your mouth, pure excitement coursing through your veins as you refrained from letting out a high-pitched squeal.

Although, it wasn't long before that excitement of yours shifted into pure, unadulterated horror. 

"Holy shit. I'm in Bullet Train."

Somehow, some way, you had died and got transported into the world of a movie. 

And of all the movies you could have been transported to, it just had to be Bullet Train - the movie that ends in this very train flying off the rails and crashing straight into the ground underneath. 

How the fuck were you supposed to survive a train crash from a vehicle going two hundred miles per hour?! You weren't Ladybug, you didn't have insane levels of luck!

Okay, okay, everything should be fine so long as you didn't board the train, right?

Dear lord, was this all really happening right now? Were you seriously in your favourite movie?

The setting and two of the characters matched exactly so you must be in the movie.

But then, what the hell happened to you? Who pushed you into that train? If you died, what would happen to Lena? 

If you seemed to recall correctly, that person referred to you as a 'murderer'. They must've known, right? And if they knew... then that meant they would go after Lena too. 

She would be fine though. You were caught off guard, a moment of weakness - Lena never had one of those. She was always on guard; had been since you both first agreed to stop. She could handle herself.

Yeah, she'd be fine.

Right now, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Perhaps if you never boarded the train, you could go about your life as normal? Maybe start a new life here, completely fresh? You knew enough Japanese to get by.

Maybe you could start a nice, little bakery and get cute regulars that always asked for the same order. You could hire sweet people to work as waiters or waitresses and create treats for those around you to enjoy. Maybe you could even find the man of your dreams and start a family?

Oh, who were you kidding?

How on Earth could you find another man when you were literally in the same world as Tangerine? 

No other man could scale up to the handsome assassin with anger issues.

That's right, he was an assassin. Both him and his brother.

If you recalled correctly, their current mission was to keep the White Death's son safe and retrieve his briefcase of money.

The White Death was a very dangerous individual. The head of a very dangerous criminal organisation. 

He was powerful. Too powerful.

Did you really want to get yourself wrapped up in that?

A light bump against your side snapped you right out of your thoughts, causing you to look straight at the cause of the interruption. 

"Sorry, that was my bad."

Your eyes widened by a fraction, gaze landing on the face of Brad Pitt himself. 

The main character had just bumped into you. Ladybug, himself, had just bumped into you.

Ladybug was yet another assassin who had almost no affiliation with Lemon and Tangerine except for one time where he was shot twice by Lemon on one of his missions. Ladybug used to be brash and temperamental but you believed that, during the events of this movie, he was trying to turn over a new leaf and get his job done as peacefully as possible.

Unfortunately for him, he was both extremely unlucky and extremely lucky. 

And he would also later find out that this mission of his wouldn't turn out as peacefully as he hoped.

"Miss, you good?"

You blinked twice, suddenly capable of seeing the furrowed brows of the laid-back male in front of you. He was probably concerned considering the fact that you phased out right as he bumped into you and apologised.

"Uh, yeah." You smiled, nodding your head very slightly. "Thank you for your concern."

He reciprocated your smile with one of his own, eyes twinkling a little in what you deduced was delight. "It was no problem. Y'know I admire your capability of putting that little interaction behind you and moving on. You go, lady."

Lena always found his little bursts of, what you liked to call, 'spiritual awareness' extremely irritating - although, you begged to differ. You found it cute how hard he tried to turn over a new leaf and gain a new attitude towards life. It was nice to see him try.

"Thank you." You bowed your head again, lips still stretched into that smile.

He then excused himself, putting the phone in his hand back up to his ear and walking over to the lockers behind you.

Well, now was probably your queue to leave.

So long as you never entered the Bullet Train, you should be completely fine, right?

With that thought in mind, you turned around, taking one step towards the exit of the station...

...and then a face flashed through your mind.

The handsome features belonging to your favourite character, drowning and choking in his own crimson substance, desperately trying to warn the main character; to let him know of the danger he was with; the danger he was right next to. 

That's right... Tangerine died in the movie, didn't he?

Could you really sit back and relax, in the same universe as your favourite character, and not do anything to save him? 

You paused mid-step as your chest heaved outwards, a large sigh escaping your mouth before, ultimately, you twirled around; gaze set straight onto the bullet train in front of you.

Curse your favouritism for ATJ.

Alright, well, if you were doing this, you might as well do it with some sort of preparation. Entering a train with several highly-trained assassins and surviving it was no easy feat, after all.

If you recalled correctly, which you almost a hundred percent did due to how many times you had watched the movie, Ladybug retrieved all the aids for his mission from that locker he just went to. In that locker should be a gun which he never bothered picking up.

If you could get your hands on that, you would be able to hold your own pretty well.

It should be fine, you were over your past anyway. It was no longer a bother so you would definitely be able to pick it up again.

Besides, you weren't gonna use it lethally. You swore off of that ages ago.

Now, your only problem was how to keep Ladybug from closing the locker after he was done taking out what he needed from it.

How did one stop another from closing a locker?

It's practically done from muscle memory; an action not given much thought but done as habitually as breathing was - something which was not easy to keep someone from doing without physically harming them.

And you would prefer not to harm Ladybug for the contents inside his locker.

Maybe if you...

No, that wouldn't work.

What if you-?

Nah, that definitely wouldn't do it.

Perhaps you could-

Before you could even think about the third thing, a familiar grey hat passed you - the same hat Ladybug wore throughout the start of the movie.

Did he just pass you?

In panic, your head frantically did a full one-eighty, eyes landing on the blue rectangular spaces lined up in a shelf behind you, one of which was very slightly open - Ladybug's to be specific.

Well, that was convenient.

With a confident strut, you made your way straight towards the locker - eyes trained on the prize. You stopped just a centimetre away from the shelf before your dominant hand rose up and pulled it open, gaze landing straight on the dark object to the side; completely untouched and fully-loaded.

Your lips turned upwards in a sense of accomplishment, despite the fact that you hadn't done much to acquire this object in the first place. Still, you reached for the pistol with that sense of pride - although, it slowly started to ebb away the closer your fingers got to the handle, nerves causing them to start to shake as they drew nearer and nearer; almost like you were about to touch something you suspected was poisonous. But it wasn't poisonous, it was just a gun. You could pick it up. 

Yeah, you could pick it up.

Your fingers lightly grazed the familiar cold metal, flinching back after only two seconds of contact, eyes squinting shut as though it was going to explode merely from your touch; as though it would kill you to hold it.

But it wouldn't.

It couldn't.

It couldn't harm you without anyone touching it.

You were fine.

With a small breath of air leaving your lips, you curled your fingers back around the weapon, picking it up and immediately hiding it behind your hat. You waited a few moments; as if to really ensure you would be okay; as if to instil in your mind that it wouldn't hurt you, wouldn't hurt anyone else using your hands.

Then you turned around - eyes widening way more than usual as you witnessed the train start to move and the doors start to close. Quickly, you rushed towards it stumbling a little on your heels before your foot almost got caught on a wedge in the ground. It was at that point, you decided 'fuck it' and lunged towards the door, just barely falling inside the capsule between carriages as you rushed to pull your knees up, narrowly avoiding the doors almost cutting them off.

You let out a sigh of relief before getting up and dusting yourself off, using both your hands to place your hat firmly back onto your head, pushing down on the ridge to do so. 

When your hands lowered once more, however, you caught sight of that wretched thing in them once again.

Your breath hitched in your throat; refusing to leave it as the drum of your heartbeat echoed through your ears, growing louder and louder and louder. You could feel it in your ears, as though it traversed your veins from your chest all the way up to the caverns you used to be able to hear, blocking out every other sound so that it was the only thing you could listen to because of how selfish it was for your attention. 

As if that wasn't enough, you could even feel it slamming against your chest over and over and over-

-and then it all just stopped.

Just like that, gone.

Your shrunk pupils enlarged once again, eyes landing on the now-empty gun in your hand - the cartridge loaded with bullets having fallen to the ground underneath you. 

Without even thinking, you threw the cartridge straight out the open window.

After heaving a few breaths, you realised what you had just done.

"Ah, shit."

What use was an unloaded gun to you now?

"Woah, what are you doing, lady?"

A sudden voice broke you away from your thoughts and caused your eyes to trail up, meeting a certain pair of mesmerising blue ones that belonged to the main character of the movie. You then slowly trailed your eyes back towards the empty gun in your hand before meeting the blonde's eyes once more and slowly, ever so slowly, raising both of your hands up.

"This isn't what it looks like."

He rose an eyebrow, eyeing the gun in your hand and then looking at your face once more.

"Awh, man, lady - I really thought you were better than this. A gun? Seriously?"

"No, no!" You quickly denied, shaking your head from side-to-side. "Seriously, I- I wasn't going to use it maliciously, I swear!"

"Look, we can talk this through, yeah?" He rose one of his arms to the back of his head, scratching it rather awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah! Of course!" You agreed. "I'd love that!"

"Okay, so how about we put the gun down first, yeah?"

You took off your hat, placing the gun inside before fitting it right back around your scalp and saying, "there. Out of sight, out of mind."

He gave you that same skeptical look you had seen in the movie and, now, had seen twice in real life. Then he decided to leave it be.

"Do you mind if we have this chat after this call I have to take? Sorry, I don't wanna be rude or anything but I did kinda leave someone on hold."

Ah yes, he was speaking to his Handler, wasn't he? The woman who gave him the job as opposed to his sick co-worker Carver, who was actually played by your favourite actor, Ryan Reynolds. 

"Oh, yeah, go right ahead. I don't wish to interrupt." You added a little, nervous giggle to the end of that sentence; if only to further push the harmless citizen act you put on.

Act? Sorry, no - it wasn't an act. It was the truth. You were a harmless citizen. All you wanted to do was save your favourite character's life; nothing more, nothing less. 

"Could you, uhh, follow after me? Just, keep a little behind though. Y'know 'cause... it would be kinda rude if you listened in on my conversation." He looked to the side awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah, I could do that."

It wasn't like you didn't already know his exact conversation like the back of your hand anyway. But he didn't know that and neither did he need to know that. 

You then watched as he entered the next carriage, being stopped by the staff member who asked for tickets as he proceeded to give the receipt for his ticket but not the actual ticket itself - just one of the many instances where his bad luck kicked in.

Soon enough, it was your turn to follow after, walking down the carriage a little nervously as you were stopped by the exact same guy. 

"Ticket please."

"Ah, right." You let out a little, nervous giggle similar to the one you did earlier. "Lemme just..."

You pretended to look for the tickets on your person, fully knowing that you didn't have any considering the fact that you were... well- not really part of this world until you opened your eyes straight after dying.

Your nervous smile grew even further as his gaze grew more stern. 

"One stop."

"I know." You sighed, giving up on the act.

You then moved past the man, not wanting to stay any longer under his scrutinising gaze. It wasn't your fault you didn't have a ticket! This world didn't even exist!

Or- well, it shouldn't exist. But somehow, it did.

The door to the capsule in between carriages slowly opened as you approached, allowing you to step through and see Ladybug scouring through the shelves, looking for the briefcase he was assigned to retrieve.

"Oh, uh," as soon as he noticed you, he stopped his search; hand pausing where it was as his head faced you. "So, lady, wanna explain to me what was going on back there?"

"Oh, well... I was just making sure it wouldn't get into anyone else's hands, y'know?" You looked off to the side, wondering how you were going to get away with sneaking a gun on a train right in front of the main character, loaded or not.

"Uh huh..." he sounded skeptical - rightfully so, you would be too if this happened to you. "Why don't you let me hold onto it for ya?"

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly ask that of you."

He gave you another skeptical look and you found yourself recalling The Prince's line in the movie, what was it again..? Ah, yes, 'the innocent girl act doesn't get you far when you have a gun in your hands' or something along those lines.

"Look, lemme just-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you started to spin on your heel and swiftly turned around, making you way back to the carriage you just passed - the carriage housing both Lemon and Tangerine if you recalled correctly.

"Wait! Lady!"

You chose to ignore his calls, continuing to walk until you reached the movement-sensitive doors that opened up for you once more.

Before you completely left, though, you gave one more glance over your shoulder, so sure that he would follow straight after you. You were proved wrong, however, after seeing him pause and reach one hand up to his earpiece, eyes immediately averting from your form over to the shelf once again.

The Handler must've-

Just then, your chain of thoughts was abruptly halted by a collision against your front side. The surface you collided with was rather hard, if you did say so yourself - so hard, in fact, that it caused you to lose balance on your heels - body beginning to stumble before a strong pair of arms caught your form.

"Fuckin' 'ell. Do you mind-?" An irritated voice paused mid-sentence. "Woah, you alright there, love?"

The familiar cockney accent had your heart beating right out of your chest and your head tilting up to peer through the ring of your sunhat and meet eyes with your favourite character himself.

Holy shit, Tangerine just caught you.

The Tangerine.

You could die (again) happy.

Dear lord. This was like all those scenes in those romance movies you would watch with Lena; the ones where the female lead would get caught in the male lead's arms and they would get lost in the endless pools of one another's eyes, drowning in the moment as time seemed to stop around them. 

Just the thought that you were having that moment with Tangerine, your favourite character ever, was enough to fluster you beyond belief as a small, bashful smile stretched over your lips.

"'ang on..." he rose a brow, staring into your eyes with such intensity, you almost fainted then and there. "You're the girl whose 'at I caught."

"Yep, that's me." You let out a small, nervous giggle. "Sorry about bumping into you, I wasn't quite looking ahead of me."

At your words, his eyes trailed behind your form, furrowed with that irritated expression that seemed to never leave his face. "What? Is some fuckin' creep following you or something? You look worried."

"Oh no, not at all!" You quickly drew his attention away from Ladybug, not wanting to interfere too much with the movie's plot. "I'm just really clumsy. It's really hard to walk around in heels, haha."

"That so?" He rose a brow at your words but chose to press no further.

Instead, he slowly helped you back up onto your feet and you were so sure he would've left the interaction at that but you didn't want it to end so quickly. Call you selfish but, was it really too much to ask for your favourite character to stick around a little more with you.

So, in hopes of keeping him around for just a little longer, you winced and he immediately took notice.

In all his gentlemanly glory, he clutched your arms tighter and helped lead you over to the set of seats that were completely empty, aiding you in sitting down by helping to gradually lower your body.

Meanwhile, Lemon and the White Death's son both stared at you incredulously.

"Just... sit 'ere, yeah? 'Think those things may have twisted your ankle or something."

He was referring to your heels.

"Thank you, mister..?"

"Tangerine." He introduced himself before jabbing his thumb out towards his brother. "'E's Lemon."

You nodded, parting your lips before hesitating for a second. Should you give your real name? Everyone in the movie went by aliases, not a single real name was disclosed - other than Kimura, of course. 

Then again, the reason they went with aliases in the first place was so that they couldn't have their personal information disclosed in the crime world. You literally had no personal information to your name.

Ah, fuck it.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you Tangerine, Lemon." 

The Brit then turned towards the Russian seated at the other window.

"See? She knows not to question it."

After that, he gave you a brisk nod and resumed taking his seat on the opposite end of his brother and the mob boss' son once more.

"Right, your daddy hired us to get you out of the trouble what you got yourself into, didn't you, naugh'y boy?" Tangerine smirked as he taunted the boy.

His words damn near drew out a chuckle from your lips had you not restrained yourself enough. One slip of the tongue and you could be regarded as a threat by the 'twins' (a debatable title), and you did not want to be seen as a threat to the people who ended up sawing the limbs off a dozen of the White Death's men in Bolivia.

So, to fully ensure that no suspicion was instilled your way, you turned your head to the side, facing the window that sped by the land of Japan at high speeds, providing a vivid yet beautiful view of the country. 

But that didn't matter to you, all you cared about was the reflection of the three men in the glass - looking exactly like they did in the movie. This way, if their comments brought about a smile on your lips - they wouldn't be able to tell you were eavesdropping.

It was such a shame that you missed out on Lemon's tangent about Thomas the Tank Engine though.

"Why, uh, why Tangerine though?" The Son asked, bringing you straight out of your thoughts.

"Oh it's a sophisticated name." Lemon answered.

"Oh, fuckin' 'ell. It's not impor'ant, is it?" Your favourite cut in, looking as annoyed as ever. "What is impor'ant are the seven'een dead bodies we left getting you back from the triad that kidnapped you with plans to ransome you to your extremely psychotic, fucked-up father."

"Actually, it's sixteen." His brother corrected him. Although, he himself wasn't correct since he wasn't counting that one innocent person they killed.

"What's that now?"

"Sixteen kills, mate."

"Oh no, it was seventeen."

"Iiiit's sixteen." Lemon drawled out.

"Lemon, you're starting to get on my fucking tits." Tangerine scowled and you almost let out a giggle as you watched them bicker back and forth.

"It's sixteen."

"I'll smash my fuckin' 'ead through a brick wall."

"Well maybe that'd help your memory 'cause it was sixteen."

"The fuck is wrong with you, man?! It was seventeen goddammit," Tangerine slammed his hand against the table before continuing, "I wanna fuckin' strangle you-"

"Do you mind if we do this right now?" Lemon turned to the Russian male sat beside him.

"Don't worry about him-"

If you remembered correctly, now would be the time where they showed a montage of what happened with Lemon and Tangerine before they entered the train with the White Death's Son.

The montage was funny to watch but Lena begged to differ, scowling at each and every thing they did on screen; loathing the corpses they left behind and the way they carelessly killed other people as if she didn't-

-ah, what were the characters saying again?

"Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransome money inside." You heard the character with the face of ATJ say as he looked off to the side, eyes seeming to search for something and growing more frantic the longer he couldn't find it. "And I plan on completing my job and keeping-

"Lemon." He interrupted himself as he called to his brother, pupils stopping their wandering around to land on the other man.

"Hmm?"

"Where's the briefcase?"

"Oh I stashed it."

A pause.

And then, Tangerine placed both of his hands on the table, fingers intertwined with one another. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."

The broader male got up to do just that, leaving the two other males on the table alone. You could practically feel the stress seeping from the male with a cockney accent.

"You're a liability, you know?" The Son spoke up again. "To my father."

"Hm?" The Brit left at the table perked his head up.

The Son leaned in, facial expression hard to decipher through the glass - but it wasn't like you needed to, after all, you watched the movie a dozen times before. "He doesn't need a reason to kill people like you, he needs a reason not to. Does he have one?"

The assassin paused for a minute, giving the other male a weird look before opening his mouth as if to respond. Before he could though, his phone went off and he reached for it - though, not without uttering one last sentence. "That's fucking confusin'."

He then picked up the phone and gave his greeting before the male on the other side asked him for The Son, if you recalled correctly.

"What? You mean this dickhead with the silly face tattoos? Yeah, he's sat right here."

Ah, so you were right. Of course you were.

"Yes, of course..." the male continued after a pause, leaning backwards and peering to the side to see Lemon's form stressing over the fact that, unbeknownst to him, Ladybug had stolen the briefcase. Once Tangerine saw, however, the confidence in his tone fell and his voice wavered as he continued, "...I've got the case..."

He kept the phone up to his ear for only a few seconds after as his eyes furrowed and a flicker of realisation crossed over them before the phone in his hand slowly lowered to his side.

After ending the call with one of the White Death's men, he strutted over to the capsule his brother entered - the way he walked almost made a squeal pass out of your mouth - the straight line across his lips, the furrow of his brows, the way he fixed his collar; it was all so smooth, you couldn't help but want to swoon. 

Once he left though, your rose-coloured lenses slowly paved way for you to finally see the bigger picture; to understand fully what sort of a predicament you got yourself into.

Your life could be in great peril (once again) because of one specific character that was on her way to this very carriage to kill the White Death's son himself...

...The Hornet.

I just love that Tangerine apologises for swearing in front of a lady before going ahead and doing it again haha

Next Act

[rightxonxmain-archived]

smolcuriouskitten:

Onyx heard Brians words and it pissed her off even more. Her blood was running over and she felt violent. So violent that she could kill him and make it look like an accident. His sheer confusion and trying to revert the blame onto her, it was all too much. Her eyes began to glow a milky white and before fully leaving, she punches a hole clean through the wall. Looking at Onyx's size, standing at only 5'0, you wouldn't think she had so much strength.

Ignoring the blood in her hand that newly formed, the other hand was bleeding from how hard her nails dug into her palm, she left. She was quiet, the floor shaking under her feet, the burnt footprints creating a trail behind her. A poor tenant poked their head out of their door to see what the fuss was about and seen Onyx, freaked out by her appearance, they cower back inside. At this point Onyx had a black cloud like substance forming around her body, the lights flickered in the hall as she headed for the stairs, bulbs breaking one by one.

'Sis! Oh god your aura! Come to Furball's house! Please don't do anything drastic!' Roxie cried out in her aura because she knew when Onyx gets this upset, there were consequences. She was so angry all she could hear was Brian's words replaying in her head. 'How do I know you aren't cheating?!' Pivoting blame on her, like a man would do. No accountability.

"Ma'am?" A poor soul called from the lobby which Onyx looks over at them calmly. "Are...are you okay? Your...you have a cloud around you." They meekly ask and Onyx simply turns her head back around, punching a hole through the mail lockers, taking the wall down with it. The person cowers away from her, Onyx leaving the building. The streetlights began to flicker and blow as she walks along, the ground continuing to rumble. Roxie teleports to her location and picks her up, despite how much the woman is burning her hand.

"Onyx you are going to kill yourself! Come on!" Roxie pleads in between her 'ow' and 'ouch' noises, teleporting her away from the public street and back to Rockelle's house. Promptly dropping her on the ground outside to not create more damage, Roxie looks down at her fingers that were red and puffy, some places already burnt from holding the woman. "I'm guessing whatever happened didn't go well." Roxie calmly comments, Onyx sitting up and glaring at her silently.

"I'm gonna take that as a no. Take your anger out on the trees and talk to me when you are ready okay? I will be inside, I love you okay?" Roxie gently reminds, going inside to leave Onyx to her own devices. Sure enough, the smaller woman began to punch and take down the trees without hesitation. Ripping some out from the root and throwing them over the cliff, knocking some down by punching them, cracking some in half, screaming and cursing at the inanimate objects about Brian and general curses she had against men. the sight was something to see. By the time she was finished, a large clearing was left behind, her body no longer covered with a black cloud and her hands were mangled and bloody from the abuse to them.

Onyx slowly comes inside, sitting on the floor, her back against the wall to help ground her. She broke down crying, not caring about how many splinters or how much blood was on her hands. This was so exhausting. Rockelle leaves her a tray of tray of hand wipes and some calming tea for her. Onyx looks down at the tray confused in between tears. "Something for you to have. I'm sorry about everything." Onyx doesn't hesitate to give Rockelle a hug, making her squeak but return the hug, confused since Onyx isn't the most affectionate person. "It will be okay my love. It will be okay." She presses a kiss to the smaller woman's forehead as she sobbed into her shoulder.

Onyx showered and was feeling a bit better, courtesy of the pair of women she found comfort in. While munching on dinner, Roxie leaned against the counter with a glass of whiskey in her hand. Taking a sip, she starts. "So...I'm guessing he did cheat." Roxie bluntly asks and Onyx looked over at her mid bite. Onyx makes a screen like object appear where it replays the conversation word for word in a third person environment.

Rockelle listened from the living room and Roxie's face went white. "So that's why you were so pissed. I haven't seen you that spazzed out since.....56'. No wonder you were so angry. He didn't answer and he deflected. What a great thing to do in the eyes of a killer." Roxie continued, the screen disappears after the video is over. "Judging from his words...he doesn't remember. Speaking of which..I apologize for bringing it up again. The blue we seen. What was that?" Rockelle calls out from the living room, leaning against the dining room entrance. Onyx swallows her food and sighs deeply.

"Its this....Thing. His name is Alymer. He came into the picture after I left Brian the first time. He...hes a thing that feeds him and gives him a high and he wont get rid of the damn thing. I was so upset because Brian does it so frequently I didn't think he would use it to cheat on me! I...I didn't know that fucking slug was used as a device to cross me." Onyx explained, the black cloud forming around her again which Roxie throws a piece of ice at her and it quickly disappears. "So what I am hearing is that you are assuming this creature makes him cheat. Did you have any proof or even an ounce of doubt when he returned from his adventures outside with them?" Roxie chimes in and Onyx thinks for a moment.

"No....but I had this feeling that Alymer wanted to break us up! So why out this past him? And Brian obviously knew how to deny and deflect so they are in cahoots with each other!" Onyx replies and Rockelle scrunches her nose. "If this thing you speak of functions like a drug...maybe Brian genuinely doesn't remember what he does in that state. When Brian is lucid, does he act strange or unloving?" Rockelle asked and Onyx paused. "And if this Alymer is using Brian to cheat on you and only that...you have a nose that would have smelled someone else on him. Taking out the factor of him deflecting but what if he just doesn't know? Or Alymer is using him for something else?" The neko continued, Onyx opened her mouth to respond then closes it.

"I...I didn't think of it like that. I was just so angry...I couldn't imagine that. No, Brian is very loving and caring when hes lucid. I never seen him high which is why I jumped to that conclusion. I never smelled anything on him..He always smelled like himself. I don't know what else Alymer could possibly be using him for...." She continued, taking a moment to think about it.

Hearing the phone ring, Roxie answered it. The two women were still sleeping and she didn't want to wake them. "Oh hey Brian. Took you long enough. Hold on, one question before I hand this phone over. Did you cheat on her?" She asks, smacking her gum.

"I will warn you, judging from how pissed she was the other night, you showing your face again might result in something unsightly." A beat. "And whatever you did I hope you have a good explanation for your sake and hers. You don't know what she does for work do you?" Looking over the bartop counter at the snoozing Onyx, she coughs. "I will just say shes the type to put you 6 feet under, incinerate any evidence of you and make it look like a freak accident. That's all I will tell you. So, I will ask again. Did you cheat on her?"

"—I didn't cheat on her." Brian was so anxious, he answered the question without hesitation (despite being in disbelief over the fact he woman who answered the phone jumped straight to it like that).

"I have an explanation, lady, but it's up to her whether or not it's good enough... No. I don't know. But what the hell does that have to do with how faithful I've been?" Aylmer gestured towards the phone, and Brian quietly if reluctantly let him listen in for a minute or two.

"Aww, for fuck's sake... I did not cheat on her! Okay?! Do you want me to stick a needle in my eye? Would that satisfy you??? I just wanna talk to her... "

Aylmer had heard enough for the time. Shaking his head, he moved away from the phone and back into position under Brian's clothing.

"You don't know who you're dealing with... I wouldn't speak to either of those women like that... Not unless you're unopposed to making enemies of a COVEN..."

Brian didn't have anything to say. Or maybe he just didn't know how to respond. This was all too much for him. If witches were real, though, he hoped one of them could wave a magic wand and put everything back to the way it was before anything weird happened.

"Witches, Brian... Do your homework..."

"I know what a coven is... I also know they're not real..."

"Alright. Then how would you explain the destruction and literal fire in her eyes?"

To think the love of his life was a fairy tale monster all this time and he hadn't known it... Brian's ignorance of the facts scared him almost as much as the facts themselves. Truth really was stranger than fiction, wasn't it?

With hands shaking, he put his mouth to the phone again. "... Tell her... Tell her that I would rather die than hurt her like that, so her threats don't scare me... I might very well be an accomplice to murder, but I swear on my own life I never ever cheated on her... If she never wants to see me again, I can't do anything about that... But at least let her know there wasn't a second of our life together that I didn't love her with everything I had..."

smolcuriouskitten // cont'd [ x ]

Brian didn't face Onyx straightaway but gradually turned his head towards the woman he loved. He knew that making eye contact wasn't an imperative since she seemed to never change her expression (usually) and therefore it wasn't easy to read her reaction to what was being said to her.

Still, he had called her in here and now he was obligated to treat this like an actual civil conversation.

"Well, that's kind of just it-"

The young man practically recoiled when he saw that grin which was, unfortunately, getting to be more and more characteristic. It was also a bit of a 'war flashback' moment for him, as he could recall breaking out into maniacal smiles for no reason at all starting with his connection to Aylmer.

"You and he have been doing an awful lot of talking lately..." Brian sighed, still in the dark as to the light shooting out of his head. Right now he had a rig of saran wrap and tape over it to keep the elements out, but he knew that would only get him so far. Needless to say, hats were a must when out in public. His brother Mike was bringing new fashions over weekly.

"I just don't want you going down the same path as I have, Onyx... And I don't want more trouble for Aylmer, either... It's not any secret how much I've had to pay the cops to keep quiet about things as they are..."

***

The parasite was indeed incapacitated, currently swaddled and sipping chicken brains from a blender cup with a straw, but the severed link between himself and Brian had caused an additional phenomenon; he could now hear all of Brian's thoughts! Even from another room!

Needless to say, the attempted co-conspiring taking place in the bathroom caused unhappiness to swell inside of his blue body. Onyx was his only recourse during these tough times, this he believes wholeheartedly... Aylmer didn't actually posses a heart, instead a heart-like part called the aortic arch, but that's neither here nor there. All that mattered was his will to pit Onyx against Brian because Brain, bless him, was of little to no use anymore.

[artemisia-black]

Me, a person who loves researching and can easily go down a well of hyperfixation: So like, what’s the magic system here? How do things operate? How do spells actually operate?

JKR: *offkey kazoo noises while she does jazz hands and leaves* No clue

I am personally offended by the lack of answers, because where’s the logic here? I can’t even make my own canon-compliant system, because canon contradicts itself. See, the floating lesson in first year shows we need a specific wand movement and correct pronunciation for a spell to work, but sectumsempra has Harry “waving his wand wildly” while shouting out the word and the spell works, so what gives here? Yeah, Snape created the latter, but someone had to create the former too, so why does wand movement matter so much in some cases but not in others?

Side note, my phone autocorrected “compliant” to “complaint” at first, which I thought was fitting here, since I am indeed complaining about canon

I have so many questions regarding how magic works in Harry Potter, and how magical beings’ bodies work. Do Dementors eat the souls and it’s like the souls get digested in their bodies, so the souls just stop existing once they’ve been “digested”? How does the removing-happy-memories-thing work, in that where do the memories even go in the Dementors? What is the rule system for spells? Because if changing one syllable or changing the stress in the word can change what the spell does, clearly there’s some system in place, but we never know what it is. Why do spells require a specific hand movement? Swish and flick for wingardium leviosa tells us that the spell needs a specific movement with the wand, but this is not the case with wandless magic, so what changes without a wand, and why does the wand movement matter so much? Like, I desperately wish we’d gotten Hermione’s POV because girl spent almost all her time in the library, at least some of her reading might’ve told us how magic actually works in the Harry Potter world

Anon I think you might be my soulmate, because I've puzzled on these questions too. This post won't provide clarity but more confusion I'm afraid.

The magic system has no logic in this universe. Even in my WIP Pietas, I try find an explanation for what happens to an animal's consciousness during transfiguration because it makes no damn sense.

‘Yes, hence my previous statement about his substance problem,’ she remarked, rolling her eyes. ‘However, most of the logic is sound. Much like an animagus keeps their consciousness during transformation, an animal who undergoes transfiguration retains theirs. Transfiguration is not metaphysical magic; consciousness remains even when the physical body has been altered.’

‘But that makes animal Transfiguration unethical,’ Sirius countered excitedly, ‘So as someone who buys into De Visser’s theory, should you not stop performing that branch of magic?’

‘I have to perform it, to pass my exams,’ she stated simply, her foot tapping on the ground.

‘Yes, but surely a good grade isn’t worth the torture of an animal?’ He countered slightly sardonically, pacing back and forth along the corridor, 'Surely, ethics must come before an Exceeds Expectations?’

Generally, the magic system seems to have very arbitrary and contradictory rules, Jily needed a secret keeper, but Bill was his own. Everyone looks down on Divination, but people take the Grim and Prophecy seriously.

Also, does the magic come from the wand, the words or the person? Children can do wandless magic (Harry sets the snake free) but yet can't do wandless magic as an adult. Why are the words mainly Latin based? Does that mean people who understand Latin can perform more powerful spells? What about before the Roman conquests? What did people use? Herpo the Foul was an ancient Greek wizard, what was he using? Also isn't it messed up that the means to perform magic requires enough gold to buy a wand (and Hogwarts allows Ron to wander around with a broken one for an entire year- and it does cause harm to other people). I have this theory that the ability to perform magic is a recessive gene that allows someone to bend the rules of physics and a wand is a way of honing that.

In my soul meta, it's clear that wizards believe in souls, so it's so fucked that they allow these creatures to devour them. What happens to these souls? Do the Dementors have a dimension inside them where they torture them and feed off the tourture?

This was not clear at all anon, but I don't have the answers for any of this. Legit makes no sense.

[dvesinthewind]

Dear April | Lexi Howard & Rue Bennett (Character Study)

synopsis: Because growing up is hard, and as innocence withers away with age we face the repercussions. Sometimes it's okay to remember where you came from even if it hurts to remember life isn't the same anymore. WC 1.7K

a/n: watched waves and couldn't resist. a character analysis of this beautiful and raw friendship. enjoy.

warnings: spoilers in general, angst af, addiction, substance abuse, struggling with grasping adulthood, sister troubles, loneliness, heartbreak, lexi can't let go of the past, sandbox friends trope

A yellow hue filters itself through the blinds on a warm summer night. The street lamps tend to do this, falsely advertising what appears to be an early morning. The ceiling fan rattles with little dismay, sitting almost precisely between the two sections of the shared bedroom. It remains at the highest speed-- per Cassie's request, and Lexi shutters underneath her covers like she would if it were mid-January on the upper east coast. It isn't the cold that abruptly awakes her, she isn't sure what does, but as her eyes peer open an unsettling feeling erupts in her stomach and grows more severe as time passes. The room is dark save for the light coming from those damned street lights, and Cassie's unbothered, restful figure lays peacefully underneath a fur blanket.

Lexi's mind lingers off to Rue like it normally does at this time of night, or really at any time if she's honest. She wonders if she's high off of weed or some crazy psychedelic. She wonders where she got it from; off the street or if Fezco provided it to her. That was something she never understood but regardless minded her business. Maybe Rue was fast asleep dreaming of sobriety, an alternate life, a path she could have chosen to take. Lexi clenches her eyes shut, and pushes the Bennett girl as far as she can to the back of her mind.

When Rue first started using drugs--or at least when Lexi initially knew of it, it was too much for her adolescent brain to handle. She acted cool in front of Rue, but as soon as she was settled at home she recalled a moment of weakness; teary-eyed and wobbly lips, crying on the carpet as Cassie stared blankly at her younger sister. Cassie couldn't possibly understand, Rue wasn't her best friend, but it weighed so heavily on Lexi's chest she turned to the first person she hoped would listen. Cassie rubbed Lexi's back, at loss for words, but advised Lexi there was nothing she could do. An ache struck in the younger Howard's heart, leaving it her turn to stare at her sister blankly.

As weeks grew into months, Rue's under-eyes sunk in like dark quicksand and drew serious attention to what used to be natural beauty. It wasn't that Rue Bennett wasn't beautiful anymore-- to claim such a thing would be absurd, but something was noticeably different. She fell asleep during class with her long brown curls draping over the desk like curtains. The locks swayed with every dormant movement as if the window was latched open, and a warm breeze was responsible, but it was anything but. Lexi could find beauty in anything-- even the commencement of a tragic time in her life. The Rue Bennett that was snoring lightly in that chemistry class just a few feet from Lexi, was the same Rue Bennett she used to eat ice cream with on gas station rooftops. It had to have been. How much time had passed? The naivety in the youngest Howard sibling couldn't anticipate drugs changing her best friend that much. Was it solely drugs, or the inevitability of growing up that caused a diversion in the friendship? Younger Lexi would obliviously not choose both.

After Rue had only come to Lexi for a urine sample, Lexi had reluctantly accepted defeat. Rue was a ghost of who she used to be, and Lexi mourned her excessively as if she were really dead. Lexi had mentally prepared herself for the moment the phone would ring with Rue's mom on the other end, attempting to relay the message of a successful overdose. The death of the eldest Bennett sister could not catch her off guard. She wouldn't let it.

Naturally, Lexi considered herself to not become a cynic, but a realist. She learned from observation, from watching other people make tremendous mistakes she couldn't fathom the very idea of-- a very symptom of taking on an adult role at such a young age. The truth was that she was hurting. She was tired of living in her sister's shadow, tired of watching Rue kill herself, and tired of feeling like she had no one to turn to. Watching everyone else seemingly lose control over themselves made Lexi clasp onto responsibility as if she were clutching a seatbelt before a crash. Lexi had a life to live, a bright future if she could help it, she wouldn't let herself lose control even if it were just briefly.

She doesn't see Rue much anymore. They seldom pass each other in the hallways at school, their lives running parallel and diverging separately at a crossroad. It reminds Lexi of that Robert Frost poem, and she hopes to tell that to Rue one day. She knew Rue would likely look at Lexi puzzled, and Lexi would take her time trying to explain it. She would choose her words carefully making them as descriptive as possible, and the Bennett girl would stare off into the distance, still listening. Or at least that's how she imagined it in her head anyway.

Lexi misses Rue in a type of yearning she'd never wish upon anyone. She continues to mourn, mourn, mourn until it feels almost natural. Until she's almost convinced Rue is actually gone even when her slender figure can be seen lethargically stalking the halls.

This is around the time Lexi begins writing her play. She titles it "Our Life", and shoves all of the important events of her own and her friends' lives into a singular night. She writes with a heavy heart and a quick hand and pours her entirety into the script, and doesn't tell a soul outside of Fezco about it.

She thinks about Rue's life, her battle with addiction, and the fact that her story had never been told from someone like Lexi's perspective. Lexi wanted to preserve every aspect of Rue, before and after she became addicted to drugs. Despite how hard she tried, Lexi refused to bury the memory of who Rue used to be by paving it over with who Rue became. It was impossible to forget the times they spent on the gas station rooftops, the sleepovers that lasted weeks at a time-- essentially a sandbox friendship Lexi would unwillingly move on from.

The night of the play rolls around and Lexi is hit with a wave of nerves. She fears her friends' reactions--the very reactions that are justified judging by what Lexi was about to do--unknowingly to all of them to be exact.

Rue sits in the all-but empty crowd with healthy skin and a recently sober body. Her skin is glowing underneath the auditorium lighting and her hair is pulled back away from her face. It presents an innocence that Lexi embraces warmly. She isn't sure how long the sobriety will last, but she hopes Rue will nourish it, water it, and coddle it as if it were a precious life-- because to Lexi, it was.

The only face I know in the crowd.

"What batters you becomes your strength," Lexi reads loudly to the entirety of her crowd, voice unwavering. "Move back and forth into the change. What is it like, such intensity of pain?" She glances at the actual Rue when she recites this, Rue's focus providing Lexi with the strength she needed to continue. "If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine."

When Lexi isn't on stage she reflects just as she normally does. She isn't so cynical, she appreciates the friendship she once had. She appreciates Rue for somewhat sticking around. She appreciates who, or whatever for gifting Rue sobriety, for giving her another chance.

And our two strange lives it made us new, it took us through, it woke us up.

Lexi peers around the curtain when she's sure no one is watching, they're all too submersed in the mess she's created-- the art she's perfected so carefully. She watched the crinkling in everyone's eyes, she listened to the laughter ripple off of the auditorium walls, and she still could care less about any of their reactions. Lexi could disregard the fact that she was receiving appraisal from anyone, but not Rue. Rue's feelings mattered the most that night. The youngest Howard wanted to thank her for making her the woman she was becoming.

Just like you woke me up, you made me new, you took me through.

Her play almost gets ruined by the same person that's always managed to ruin everything. But Lexi doesn't allow her to, she won't let Cassie take this away from her. Not tonight, not when she had a story to tell.

The play finishes off exactly how she wanted it to. Her and Rue, rekindling, making amends, attempting to fix what's been broken. Lexi allows genuine tears to stream down her face, and she pretends Rue's lookalike is actually Rue, the one she constantly thinks about. She didn't lie when telling Fezco the play was about friendship, but perhaps that wasn't the entire truth. Our Life depicted Lexi's heartbreak over learning through observation, over observing the deterioration of her childhood best friend's livelihood. It regretfully reminded of the difficulty of facing adulthood as a young adult and sometimes acknowledging the inevitability of life's particular events that sometimes leave a bitter taste in one's mouth.

Lexi doesn't anticipate Rue's reaction to be negative, in fact, the complete opposite based off of the script she had written for the play. She believes they might have more in common now that they're damaged, than before when they were protected by the safety net of adolescence and naivety. She desires Rue to be the one who takes something from all of this, to start giving things a reason rather than suspecting they just happen for one. To adapt to each of life's seasons, swim with the tide, and sometimes sit idly by as you lose grasp and unavoidably outgrow innocence is all Lexi hoped to eventually master and hoped the same for Rue too-- even if that meant separately.

"I missed you," Lexi states, in the very last line of the play. Several months of perfected writing summarized down to just a few hours and a roller coaster of emotions.

What we had won't be the same now, but you will make something new and it'll take you through this.

[drdeathdefyissy]

Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us lyric disextion, by yours truly. Please reblog this and ask for new song interpretations from someone who has Way too much time on their hands.

"The amount of pills I'm taking

Counteracts the booze I'm drinking"

This is a bit obvious, it is Gerad talking about his substance abuse producing less than satisfying effects, taking a mental toll on him.

"And this vanity I'm breaking

Lets me live my life like this"

I think this means that the ego that he believes he has has lead to this less than ideal lifestyle.

"And well, I find it hard to stay

With the words you say"

The relationship that he is in, in the storyline of this album is not working out, to put it lightly, but yet they are still there together.

"Oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in"

This line, and they way Gerard sings it, leads me to believe that he is drunk, and trying to make his partner feel sorry for him, and forgive him, maybe?

"Well, I'll choose the life I've taken

Never mind the friends I'm making

And the beauty that I'm faking

Lets me live my life like this"

He seems to be boasting about why he is better off without his 'Bonny and Clyde-like' lover, talking about how is living his life how he wants, and just being better of without her in general.

"And well, I find it hard to stay

With the words you say"

"Oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in"

"And you can cry all you want to

I don't care how much you'll invest yourself in me"

The lover is trying to come back in to the relationship, promising her 'investment', e.g time, commitment, but he now has the highground, insert Star Wars meme here.

"We're not working out

We're not working out"

He is sayinghe wants to leave her for sure this time, i believe that Gerard and this girl have called it off more than once. He’s seen her flaws before, but was never so sure that they would result in a relationship that was nearly impossible to stay in.

"And you can't touch my brother"

This shows off the other side of the song, the substance abuse side, and has two interpretaions. The first being that he doesn't want his brother (Mikey 'Fucking' Way) getting mixed up in drugs and booze, and doesn't want Mikey, who also struggled with abuse, to be metaphorically 'taken away from him'. The second meaning cpuld be that he doesn't want his ex to get sexually entangled with his brother, to whom he is very close with, which would be extrem betrayel from both of them.

"And you can't keep my friends"

This is also showing that he doesn't want his addiction to engulf him and take him away from his friends.

"And we're not working out

We're not working out

This time, I mean it

Never mind the times I've seen it"

He has fallen for her again, and swears that he won't fall for her again, and fall in to her trap, no matter how many times he has said this before.

"Well, I hope I'm not mistaken

By the news I heard from waking

And it's hard to say I'm shaken

By the choices that I make"

He has heard his partner has been cheatimg, and wants to believe that this is true, and is so desperate to get out of this relationship, that he lashes out at the fisrt sign of cheating.

"And well, I find it hard to stay

With the words you say

Oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in

Well, I'll choose the life I've taken

Never mind the friends I'm making

And I get a little shaken

'Cause I live my life like this

And well, I find it hard to stay

With the words you say

Oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in"

"And you can cry all you want to

I don't care how much you'll invest yourself in me

We're not working out

We're not working out"

"And you can't keep my brother"

He canges up the lyrics here to show that she has already 'fucked his brother', and this is likely the person that she had been cheating on him with.

"And you won't fuck my friends"

This show that he is worried that his friends are next, the last thing he holds dear after his brother.

"And we're not working out

We're not working out

This time, I mean it

Never mind the times I've seen it"

He could maybe have fallen for her again, swearing that this is the last time he'll do it.

"Never again

Never, well, never again

Never, never, never, never again

You can cry all you want to

I don't care how much you invest yourself in me

Never, never, never, never

You can cry all you want to

I don't care how much you invest yourself in me"

He’s trying to force himself to stay away from her after all of the times they’ve broken apart and gotten back together. The repetition is his mind telling his heart that it’s unhealthy and not good for him, but we see in the next line what his heart really wants.

"Oh baby, let me in, oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in, oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in, oh baby, let me in

Oh baby, let me in, oh baby, let me in!"

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 11

Silent scream

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n gets shut up

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Fuck you." I snapped, mustering all the saliva I could before spitting it at his face. He flinched back when it splattered over his cheek, his fingers swiping through the spittle before he was shaking it from them and standing back to his full height.

"It appears this one is never going to cooperate. If she won't give us information, why let our experimentations on her possibly...benefit the girl the the future?" The general spoke menacingly to the guards behind me. "How about way find a way to shut her up?"

My heat thudded so hard in my chest it was like someone was punching me from the inside, all air knocked from my lungs before I was being hoisted up to my feet again with two rough grips on my upper arms. My chest heaving, I coughed a ragged breath before composing myself. The glint of the silver blade in the corner of my vision sent my eyes bugging out of my skull and my mind into a flat panic.

So, I did what any rational person with my capabilities would do. I began to hum the deep melody - one a seldom sung - and a smirk crawled its way onto my now curved lips. Clearly, the general was prepared, but the two guards behind we weren't so lucky.

A desperate cry pierced my tune, harmonising with my voice as I heard the havoc I was causing. This was the first time I'd enjoyed a kill, the very first time I'd wanted to use my powers for such a horrific reason. I'd only ever used this part of my power a few times, but this was the only time I'd been fully lucid whilst doing so.

Some people want nothing more than to blow their enemies' brains out, and trust me when I tell you; It felt good.

However, luck was never on my side, and the General had come full prepared. He wasn't even affected, it must've been something to do with the funny earpiece he was wearing.

As my eyes met his, the General's face held non of the cocky, smug tones that I'd expect. No, the only word I could use to describe his old and crinkled features was pure ire, and it was directed at me.

"You conniving, vile little bitch!" He snarled, the flash of silver weeding a sense of utter and complete dread, tangled with fear inside of me, uprooting my confidence. I don't remember a lot after that, to tell you the truth. I know the blade sliced along my throat. I know everything was rained black. And that's about it.

...

Awakening with a gasp was the last thing I expected to happen. The sight of the blade risen in front of the general burned into my mind, almost as if it'd been scorned against my flesh. But here I was: awake, gasping for breath, completely surrounded by doctors I'd never seen before.

My hand instantly flew to my neck, a stinging sensation pulsing from the delicate skin. I hissed as my sweaty palm made contact with the bandage, the material corse and scratchy against my skin. As a doctor waddled over to me, needle in hand, I flailed desperately, a silent scream ripping from my throat.

Hang on a second-

Silent scream? I tried again, the shrill noise that should be tearing from me simply vanishing as it hit my throat. My eyes widened with the realisation, my bottom lip wobbling as I suddenly pieces together what had happened.

He said he'd have to shut me up, didn't he? The thought made me want to scream loudly, that the blade had touched my skin and left me with no defence.

They took away the hell they'd reigned upon me, something I'd wished I could be rid of for years, and now I was disappointed. Maybe this was their plan all along, that little voice in my head sang. The tears pricked at my eyes, which rolled back lazily as the scratch of the needle poked at my neck.

...

My calloused fingers ran over the cut tirelessly, trying to itch somewhere that I could never seem to find. I don't know how long I was sedated for, but since waking up the bleeding had stopped and there was now an offensive red line that slid horizontally across my neck.

Every time I touched it, it coaxed a wince from me, and yet that's all I seemed to do. It was like poking a bruise, I guess. The more it hurts the more you want to do it.

They'd returned me to my cell, clearly very little need for restraints against my weakened, starved and dehydrated body. I could see the flesh thinning on my arms, my ribs pressing painfully against my skin. Not only could I see the hunger, but I could feel it.

Manifesting, biting, gnawing hunger. The type that are you from inside out, devouring everything of you until the only thing you could think about was eating. Huh, I guess I was already at that stage then.

My eyes remained locked in place, glossy with the endless tears as I stared at the floor. If I really looked hard enough, the still wet blood smeared over the floors of the hallway resembled something close to strawberry jam. The thoughts of the sickly sweat substance spread over a perfectly toasted piece of bread, accompanied with a big glass of fresh orange juice and washed down by a large coffee made my mouth water. The booming rumble in my stomach made the groan, even more drawn out than expected when I remembered all I'd get to eat today: a small bread roll and a tiny glass of water.

Sadly, the sink in my cell did not contain drinking water. The liquid was so discoloured that I purposely avoided washing me hands, preferring to possible have my own germs coating my hands than whatever they were giving me. I'm not kicking you about, I genuinely think the water was filtered through a clump of fucking horse shit, mixed with fish guts and complimented with a hint of rotting fruit. If I could help it, I'd be dodging that water like the plague (if it didn't contain one already) for the rest of my life.

I'm not really sure why, but my head snapped up in surprise why the door sprang open, a single guard entering.

"The general requires your presence." He deadpanned, eyes cold as eyes and sharp as a knife as they stabbed through me. I wanted to fight back, stay glued to the spot and snap back some snarky remark, but in my current condition I almost couldn't bring myself to care where I was about to be taken, or why for that matter.

I stood without a word, silently following the man until we reached an unfamiliar metal door. I found it almost laughable, really, that they'd reduced my strength so much, that no one even considered putting me any sort of restraints anymore.

The door was pushed open with a child-like whine emitting from its rusty hinges, the metal scraping over the concrete floor painfully. The guard simply grabbed my arm before tugging me into the room, letting the door shut behind his with a hollow thunk.

"Ah, she has arrived!" The general's voice exclaimed, a deviant smile spreading over his thin lips. "And just in time to meet Mr Pierce, too." He said menacingly.

I felt embarrassed, exposed, stood before the room of men. My hair was a mess, tears streaking my reddened face, eyes puffy from crying and the only clothes a wore was a now-battered hospital gown. My eyes darted around nervously, trying to avoid the blonde man sat before me, chin resting in his palm as he surveyed me.

"Why is this one...important?" The man asked, eyeing me up and down before his eyes seemed to fixate on my neck. The scar.

"This," the general spoke, but Mr Pierce kept his eyes on me, "is Miss y/n Stark." Mr Pierce's eyes widened ever so slightly, but it was barely noticeable.

"As in Tony Stark?" Pierce pondered.

"The very same." The general smirked.

"She seems awfully...quiet, for a Stark." Pierce said with almost a hint of disgust, eyes still glued to my shaking frame.

"That's because we shut her up." The general snapped, awfully harshly.

"Is that the scar? How fresh is it?" Pierce jabbed his questions, curiosity clearly becoming him in the moment.

"Indeed. Our doctors here are very good, Sir. They had her all patched up and out of bandages in just three days." The general bragged, shoulders back and head held high as if he was posing for a portrait.

"I see." Pierce mused, brows furrowed in thought. "What do you plan to do with her? Now that she can't tell you anything?"

"Oh, trust me, sir. She wasn't giving anything up either way," he paused, striding over to me and yanking my head back with a fistful of hair, my back mow  pressed to his chest and his mouth at my ear, "isn't that right, sweetheart?"he clarified, and I didn't hesitate to nod my head as much as his grip would allow.

"So why isn't she dead?" Pierce gritted, seemingly annoyed. "It's not like Tony's attached to her, he never looked for her and I've never even heard him mention her."

"But then they'll keep coming. I don't want the avengers on my back, and I'm sure you don't either." Pierce hummed in agreement. "She's with them - her and that Captain America guy arrived together - so why not use her to send a message?" The general suggested.

...

That's how I found myself tied up, wrists bound and gun to my head as I sat shakily in a chair in the middle of the quinjet. I had no clue how long I'd been since that day, but I do know that I had been sedated once again. The flimsy hospital gown allowed a shiver to chill me, skin  forming goosebumps as I sat before the open door or the quinjet.

"You will tell them exactly as I just did. Got it?" The general pressed, pushing the gun into my head hard enough to make by head throb. Tears biting at my eyes, I nodded furiously, now determined to live with the promise of being free again. "Good. Soldat, make sure she gets back to New York without being seen, I'd hate to have to spill more blood than we intended." The general demanded, a figure rustling its way out of the shadows at the edge of the room. A gasp tore from my throat at the sight of him - clad in black leather and arm as silver as the moon. The soldier - my soldier.

But he simple stared through me, eyes blank and clouded in a coldness I'd never had directed at me from him before.

"And make sure you don't fail this time, soldat." The general snapped. The soldier nodded solemnly, the echoing of boots thudding filling both their ears as the general walked off the ship.

[sleepysloth99]

A/N: Heyo everyone uhh basically my mental state got me fucked up so why don't we make headcanons for numerous Sweet Home characters. 2 parts. Part 1 is a simple them comforting you during an anxiety attack and part 2 is them reacting to you telling them that you're a burnout gifted kid (yes OP needs some fucking help😂).

Characters: Hyuk, Netflix Wook, Hyun, Jisu, Yuri

I suppose content warning? Anxiety is mentioned after all.

Part 1: Them comforting you during an anxiety attack.

Hyuk:

•Guy is clueless as fuck lol.

•He'd try to make things better but he actually kinda made it worse.

•He feels terrible since he feels so useless in this situation. He's not exactly great with people.

•Eventually he gathers himself and gives you a blanket and makes tea.

•Puts on your favorite anime or show in general.

•He apologizes for being so crappy with all this.

•You have a favorite stuffed toy? He'll get it for you.

•Lots of cuddles. If you want he can play a video game and you can watch him.

•He's trying his best :)

•This is only the first time though.

•Around the third to fourth time this happens he'll actually know what he's doing.

•Ask what's wrong and won't panic. He'd be a lot more calm and would definitely be less hesitant to hold you.

•Again just bear with him.

Netflix Wook

•Thought Hyuk was bad? Wook's even worse.

•He doesn't know what to say so he just pats your shoulder.

•Lots of headpats.

•Right after you calm down he searches up about anxiety attacks and what to do if someone is having one.

•He'll also search up what to say to a partner during an anxiety attack.

•The only reason he kept his mouth shut the first time was because he was scared he'd upset you more.

•Want him to cuddle you and hush you? He'll do just that.

•Want him to hold him because you find holding things more comforting then being held? He's already laying down.

•Whatever makes you calm down he will do just that.

•He also buys snacks for you.

•Overall one of those "Quiet Supporter" types. He doesn't really say anything because mind you he isn't exactly great with his words so using gifts and physical affection he will try to calm you down.

•One muscular teddy bear lmao.

Jisu

•Unlike Hyuk and Wook, Jisu is a lot better at handling emotions for the most part.

•She'll immediately ask what's wrong and hold you.

•She'll just listen, and give her input when she feels the time is appropriate.

•She'll order out food and watch a show with you.

•Hell for you? She'd illegally stream a movie lmao.

•Lots of soft blankets.

•If you want, she can sing for you or play the guitar.

•She keeps her composure despite secretly being freaked out since she's never dealt with someone having an anxiety attack.

•She has a bat so if you wanna go out and smash shit up she'll come with you.

•Wanna scream all your worries? She already has her bass set up.

•She'd paint your nails if you want.

•She'll let you lay in her lap (Imagine laying in Jisu's lap☺️)

•Gives headpats.

•Gives scalp massages.

•Just like Wook, provides snacks.

•Would go all the way and buy a fucking pet for you.

Yuri

•See what's so special about Yuri is that she's worked as a caregiver for years, albeit with elders.

•So believe me she's seen a LOT.

•What I'm trying to say is out of everyone here, she's the best when treating you during an anxiety attack.

•She asks what's wrong.

•She never yells by any means.

•She kinda whispers but not really.

•Very calming, uses lots of lavender and chamomile based products.

•Already making some tea (or some drink you like).

•She'll run a shower for you.

•She uses aromatherapy based products in said shower.

•She would run a bath for you but that wastes water and she doesn't want you to sit in your own filth.

•Uses aromatherapy lotion on you.

•She will do some skincare for you.

•Spoils you with cuddles and snacks.

•Tries to ask further questions like "How long have you felt like this? Is there any other problems?"

•She won't push you though.

•Sleeping on her lap with fluffy blankets and forehead kisses. (Bro imagine sleeping on the goddess's lap???😳😳😳)

•Surprisingly very sweet.

Hyun

•Bro not gonna lie he really wouldn't know what to do.

•He's broken as is so if he says anything that comes off as insensitive he doesn't mean it, he's trying his best.

•Another Quiet Supporter.

•Will give you a hug.

•Will let you sleep on him.

•He might start crying too. He feels so powerless in such a situation. Seeing his significant other panicking and not knowing what to do or say.

•He'll try and ask what's wrong but being in a similar position, he knows how annoying it can be when someone asks what's wrong.

•He's distant but close at the same time if that makes any sense.

•He'll read a book to you if you want.

•He'll try and whisper sweet nothings but again this is pretty foreign for him

•He'll get take-out for you and put on some anime.

•He'll even watch an anime he really hates as long as it makes you feel better.

•By the next day he'll pretend nothing happened but just expect a stuffed animal packaged up at your door. Who sent it? I dunno. (Not him that's for sure nope nope totally not him.)

Them reacting to you saying you're a burnout gifted kid.

Hyuk

•He kinda relates.

•He will always be there to let you know you're doing great.

•He will always be there to support.

•When he sees your homework scores lowering and grades crashing he'll be there to help you somehow.

•He actually does your homework while you sleep. By the time you wake up you have no clue because he made copies of it but he actually used your account to submit the work. Man the shit he does for you.

•One of the school staff actually almost caught him saying "You're not acting like your usual self. You never get such good score in math."

•Thankfully he looked at how you talk online especially to teachers and managed to kinda copy how you talk online.

•He still thinks you should talk to someone about this. You know someone professional.

•Again though he'll always be there for you.

Wook

•He wouldn't know what to tell you.

•"Yeah... that does suck."

•He'll support you and try to get you mental help for it but... yeah.

•He can't really relate to the whole burnout thing so he's very distant here.

•Course that doesn't mean he won't try and help you.

•Again he wants you to get mental help especially since he isn't the best with words.

•Really he's clueless. He'll try his best but honestly even Wook thinks he's the worst person for this.

Jisu

•She also can't really relate since she was always just the band kid scraping by back in school.

•She's still very empathetic.

•She'll try her absolute best to help you with the long term damage that is gifted child burnout.

•She will make sure you don't go abusing substances. So no you cannot have any of her cigarettes. She will literally throw them all away.

•She'll write songs to motivate you.

•She'll make sure you never give up on something just because you didn't get it right the first time.

•Seriously this woman loves you, she'll do anything to motivate you and make you happy.

Yuri

•Now Yuri can semi-relate. Being trained to take care of the elderly did do a number on her so she knows burnout when she sees it.

•She will literally smack your hand if you try and overwork yourself.

•"Don't. I'll do it."

•She really wants to do everything for you because she hates seeing you all burnt out.

•She's stubborn as hell so it's gonna take a lot to convince her to let you actually do your work.

•Seriously somebody come get her she's starting to burnout herself.

Hyun

•Lmao Hyun can relate 100%

•He IS a burnout gifted kid.

•So yeah he is actually the worst person to go to for this issue since he's having the same problem.

•However! That doesn't make him all bad.

•You can be burnout gifted kids together!

•Whether it's cuddling while comparing your current selves to your past selves or playing video games together to feel a false sense of achievement, you guys are doing this together.

•Is it the best and most healthy way to deal with this problem? No!

•Is it still a pretty great thing to have your boyfriend by your side and sharing all of your pain every step of the way? Hell yeah!

•In all seriousness, you two try to support each other.

•Lean on each other when the burnout gets unbearable. He'll offer a shoulder to cry on and you'll reciprocate (at least I hope you do.)

•You both try to get mental help or at the very least join one of those support servers on Discord.

•You guys often lie in bed late at night talking about how you both feel like failures. To which Hyun says "We can be failures together." In an attempt to make you feel better.

•It actually... kinda helped.

°

°

°

And with that being said, today's headcanons are done! If you want you can drop some requests, although I don't do any NSFW requests. But yeah that's it. I'm pooped, bye!💝

[neochatarra]

8 Untold Signs Of Narcissist People

Sometimes the signs of narcissism aren't so obvious and narcissists fly under our radar. Not every narcissist may be a puffed-up addict or a Mean Girl like Regina George. If they were, we could see the signs from a mile away and steer clear. No, many narcissists are sensitive, thoughtful, and generous – until the charade wears off, of course.

That's why it's so important to know the subtle signs of narcissism that you simply won't notice until it's too late and they've sucked you into their region.

What's the Difference Between an Overt and Covert Narcissist?

Many people tend to consider narcissists as having extroverted personalities. They're flamboyant and demand to be the middle of attention – how are you able to miss them?

The truth is, introverts also can be narcissists. These are those who fool us into their web of manipulation.

"They're not self-absorbed – they're just sensitive!"

"They're not a nasty friend – they're just misunderstood!"

After forming a relationship with a covert narcissist, you realize that this sensitivity and isolation were, in fact, signs of narcissism. Since the signs weren't so obvious, however, you completely misjudged things.

8 Signs of Narcissism You Can't-Miss

Since the covert narcissist is best at hiding their abusive behavior, it's important to know the subtle cues that give them away.

1. They'll Never Utter the Phrase "I Don't Know"

I once knew a narcissist who was so averse to the present phrase that he would rather give someone dangerously incorrect answers than admit to not knowing something. He was confident in his woefully wrong answers, too.

Why do this?

Answering an issue with "I don't know" deprives the narcissist of important attention. The person seeking a solution will simply advance to somebody else who might help them. That's an enormous ego hit.

That's why you'll often find narcissists rambling on about topics they need no business speaking on.

2. They Are A Nasty Friend

The narcissist is usually a nasty friend but you'll typically find them playing the victim. confirm to urge all sides of the story if you're unsure.

What are some red flag signs of narcissism that indicate the suspect may be a narcissist?

• They get irritated when their friends invite help or advice.

• They don't bother to call or text their friends on birthdays or holidays.

• They don't return borrowed items. (A sign of entitlement.)

• They owe their friends money. they'll downplay this as "not an enormous deal."

• They embarrass their friends ahead of others.

• They hunt down or entertain their friends' partners or love interests.

They also treat waitstaff or service workers poorly. This is a dead giveaway. run the hills. Anyone who disrespects waitstaff or service workers views people as "beneath" them. Soon, you'll be a part of the inferiors also.

3. They Need To Insert Themselves Into Every Story

A covert narcissist might not demand everyone's attention. They will, however, still find how to form everything about them. an outsized part of this strategy involves inserting themselves into every story.

Is a coworker talking about their experience with homelessness? The narcissist, too, features a story about being poor.

Is a lover talking about his amazing trip to Vietnam? The narcissist also had a friend who visited Vietnam. And guess what? She heard it wasn't so great.

No matter the subject, the narcissist features a remarkable skill for turning the eye their way – regardless of how innocuous it'd seem.

4. They're Sensitive

At first, you'll appreciate their ability to freely express emotions. this is often an excellent tactic narcissists use to lure empathetic people into their trap.

Maybe a fast-food worker got their order wrong and therefore the narcissist hasn't shut up about it all day. Maybe their boss asked them to prevent playing on their phone such a lot and now the narcissist is crying about it over dinner.

As time goes on, you'll realize that the narcissist isn't vulnerable and sensitive: their fragile ego can't handle honest mistakes and valid criticism. To the narcissist, these are personal attacks.

5. They Form Relationships Based On What Someone Can "Do for Them"

If you're at a celebration and therefore the suspected narcissist suggests you ask someone because they will help together with your career or financial situation, don't ignore it. They aren't trying to assist you: they're letting you in on their game.

Narcissists tend to make shallow friendships that supported what people can do for them. You'll often find narcissists make friends with horribly toxic people simply because these folks have money, own bars, or offers career opportunities.

6. Their Stories Don't Match Reality

Both the overt and covert narcissist has an inflated sense of self. The thing is, they believe their lies. As a result, you'll often find they recall stories much differently than the situations played out.

If you notice that the suspect constantly reframes stories to form themselves the hero or victim, retreat fast – this is often one among the various signs of narcissism. By changing the story to suit their narrative, the narcissist is gaslighting everyone else involved.

It's not cute or funny to constantly need to correct them. Sooner or later, they'll start gaslighting you, too.

7. They Observe and Judge

"There's no way she will be a narcissist. When we're out with friends, she barely says ten words!"

I hear it all the time. By sitting back and observing everyone, however, the covert narcissist is silently taking notes and judging. I'm sure you heard all about her observations on the car ride home.

The narcissist must feel superior to everyone around them. this is often easy to try to do once you don't open your mouth to interact in conversation and instead sit back to require notes about everyone's shortcomings.

8. They Only Hear Bits and Pieces of Your Stories

Does it desire the suspected narcissist just isn't. listening? They're probably not. And if they're, they don't care.

Maybe you spent ten minutes venting to your mother about how you didn't get that promotion at work because you showed up late one solitary time with a legitimate reason. How did she respond? "Well, maybe you'll remember to point out up on time from now on."

You can't be the victim. Only the narcissist is often the victim.

You see this ton with narcissist parents or partners who listen only enough to toss stuff back in your face later.

How to Turn the Tables on a Narcissist?

Perhaps you've gone on a couple of dates with someone or a replacement coworker joined your team. you think they'll be a narcissist but you aren't entirely sure.

After all, the covert narcissist is especially cunning at hiding the more obvious signs of narcissism. Here's the way to turn the tables on a narcissist and obtain them to show themselves.

• Play along. Don't give the suspected narcissist room to regulate their manipulation tactics – play stupid and pretend you completely believe them. Use this chance to document their behavior.

• Remain indifferent. If you want to continue handling an overt or covert narcissist for reasons out of your control, act indifferent to their behavior. The narcissist wants to use your emotions against you. If you don't give them anything to figure with, they'll seek their fix elsewhere.

• Find Support: this might only include one or two people you trust. open up to someone who will validate and believe you.

At the top of the day, the sole thanks to truly turn the tables on a narcissist are to chop them off completely. If that they had any real intentions of adjusting, they might have done so already.

The narcissist won't suddenly see things your way. If they ever do, it's – a) for a fleeting moment and b) to use against you later. Don't believe the conflicting information you would possibly see from other websites or therapists – the narcissist will never change.

With a mental disease, a chemical imbalance within the brain may cause different disturbances that manifest as depression, anxiety, and lots of others. Although complex, mental illnesses tend to reply well to medication because it targets the physical root of the problem: like a chemical imbalance. Though it's been determined that a lot of mental illnesses like depression and anxiety are frequently caused by unresolved emotional trauma, often dating as far back as childhood.

Personality disorders occur due to a repetitive stimuli-reward environment. At some point in their life, the narcissist realized they might elicit specific reactions and emotions from people – and it felt good and helped them achieve their self-fulfilling agendas.

Anything but cutting them out of your life will offer you a mental and emotional breakdown.

No Contact is that the Only Way to Packing Up A Narcissist

Many narcissists have always been this manner – whilst far back as their teenage or childhood years. If you're handling a narcissist, you can't and will not expect them to vary their behavior now or ever.

Treatment for personality disorders often involves things like cognitive behavioral therapy. In many cases, a narcissist can also suffer from other mental illnesses like depression or substance use disorder. (You've probably heard extensively about these problems, too, when the narcissist needs your sympathy or someone responsible .)

ىDespite this, there's little evidence to suggest therapy works for narcissists as personality disorders are notoriously difficult to treat. the primary step to getting assistance is to admit a drag exists – the narcissist will never believe they need or are a drag.

No Contact is that the only option.

Trust in yourself and your network. Because once you get to the opposite side and stick with No Contact, you'll be amazed by all the amazing belongings you can accomplish.

[alison-anonymous]

♡ time stops | t.l.

Time Stops | Tom Lucitor

Combined soulmate AU of Time Freezing and Shared Pain!

Warnings - none

Characters - you, Tom Lucitor, Star Butterfly, Marco Diaz

Requested - nah man no one wants to request anything😅

♡ ♡ ♡

In the world you lived in, time went by extremely fast. Well, for you. It seemed like the earth was moving on its axis a little quicker just for the benefit of rattling you. The people on the street always seemed to be hurrying. Whenever people spoke, it always seemed rushed. The school work you received was always as high as the pyramids. Sometimes all you wished for was for the clock to just freeze.

To stop time, even if just for a little bit.

As if that weren't making your life miserable enough, you also had to deal with your soulmate. You and your soulmate shared any harm that came to either one of you. Of course, you had no clue who your soulmate was, and frankly weren't that interested in figuring it out because of all of the "soulmate reveals gone wrong" stories that littered tabloids. Though, you had to admit, it did get a little annoying when your hands constantly felt like they were on fire. At first, you had thought you were the cause of it. You were a little klutzy whether you liked to admit it or not. But after it occured while you were washing your hands with cold water, when you were out getting the mail, when you were helping Star and Marco carve ice, and when they dared you to stick your hands in the freezer and your hands were STILL burning, you soon realized that it was probably your soulmate.

So, as revenge, you often rammed your knees or elbows against things in hopes that your agonizing pain would spread to him and balance out the pain they made you feel as well.

Only, you found it a little mind boggling as to how someone could manage to cause that much pain on just their hands. Maybe he was a pyro or something.

You were just a simple human teenager going through her own set of problems. You always tried your best, and attempted to make friends, but not many of them ever really stuck. Eventually, you were able to become pretty close friends with Marco Diaz, the school's safe kid, and Star Butterfly, a magical princess from Mewni. While you and Marco bonded over a shared fascination with karate, you and Star had more of an you-saved-her-one-time-and-she-got-heart-eyes-and-thinks-anything-you-do-is-amazing-now sort of way.

You loved the two of them to death, and as time went on, you began to realize the all too familiar shared pain experiences the duo were having. Not being too fond of romance yourself, you decided to indulge into your best friends' love lives instead of figuring out your own. It didn't take you too long to figure out that Star and Marco were soulmates. It all happened when Marco dropped a brick on his foot and Star screamed in pain in another room. But of course, you had to keep it inside because revealing soulmates to one another never had good outcomes. But you still secretly shipped Starco all the way.

In the present, the three of you were having a sleepover in the Diaz household. It was a weekly occurance for Star or Marco or both to just follow you to your house then kidnap you. Not that you minded, of course! After fattening yourselves up with plenty of junk food and Marco's nachos, and binge watching some TV shows, the three of you were sitting around in a circle as you braided Star's hair, sharing gossip and talking about everything in general when a sudden topic approached that made your heart rate pick up.

"So, Y/n," Star began as you moved on to another braid. "Have you figured out who your soulmate is yet?"

You reached for the soda sitting before you and raised the bottle to your lips. Let this be beer, you thought as you chugged the remains. It didn't help your speeding heart like you'd hoped.

"Nope. And I don't know if I ever will. Life's always been a little hard on me, and I don't think a soulmate is going to fix that for me. Besides, time goes by too fast for me anyways," you sighed, watching as Marco's and Star's movements seemed sped up compared to yours. You heaved a sigh and laid your head back against Star's headboard.

"Well, I've heard that once you meet your soulmate, as soon as you lock eyes, time us supposed to freeze. It only starts up again once you touch. But that's only for some people. Meeting your soulmate is different for everyone," Marco shrugged, biting into another nacho.

And some soulmates have met and don't even know it, you thought, eyeing your two best friends as they secretly stole glances at one another when the other wasn't looking.

"Well, it's kind of difficult for the shared pain to help us figure out who our soulmate is. I mean, besides the occasional bumps and scratches, the only constant pain I get from them is really weird..." You rolled your eyes, shoving some cheddar popcorn into your mouth. When did the topic suddenly turn to your love life?

Star turned to face you and raised an eyebrow. "What kind of weird?"

"Well," you swallowed. "It's always this constant burning sensation on the palms of both my hands. Like they're being set on fire or something. Isn't that strange? I don't know."

You heaved out another sigh and were about to continue your braiding of Star's hair when she suddenly flipped her whole body around to face you and started squealing. Even Marco had a smirk across his lips. You leaned back a bit as Star's eyes filled with hearts, being a bit creeped out. Everything was moving so quickly it was hard for you to keep track of what your friends were doing and saying.

"Oh my gosh, your soulmate is T-"

Star was cut short my Marco clamping his hand over her mouth. You furrowed your brows at his slightly panicked expression.

"Star, shush! You know we can't reveal soulmates to each other, remember?"

You couldn't help but gasp. "Wait - you know who my soulmate is?"

Star brushed his hand off her mouth, and continued to hold on to it in what might be excitement. She grinned her signature toothy grin at you. "Of course we do!!! Oohhh this is perfect, you two are made for each other, why did we never see it before? Marco, we have to get them together!"

She proceeded to do some more squealing and Marco tried to calm her down as you sat in your own silence, trying to calm the flashing world before you. Time, slow down, you whispered in your mind. Things were happening too fast.

They knew your soulmate. But if they knew your soulmate, how hadn't you figured it out yet? It was probably someone you'd never met before. Though some soulmates meet and never know it. You hoped your case wasn't one of those. Or Starco's.

Grabbing ahold of the soda you wished to be alcohol, you attempted to drink more only to realize the bottle was empty. Sighing as you set it back down, you let the newfound knowledge seep in.

Who was your soulmate?

♡♡♡

About a week later, you were woken up from your homework-induced coma by the sound of your phone going off. Groaning as you picked it up, you mustered up your best hello.

"Y/n! Marco and I are going to a ball tonight, and you're coming with us!"

"But-"

"I'm outside your house, come on, we're going shopping!"

♡♡♡

Of course, being best friends with Star Butterfly also included being dragged along with her to big fat fancy balls in different dimensions with different proper etiquette and creatures you had never laid eyes on before.

After trying on countless gowns, Star had finally settled on something her usual style and you had picked a modest gown of your favorite color that gently trailed along the floor with a small slit up the side. Of course, Marco was just wearing one of his tuxes. You couldn't help but have an internal fangirling moment when Star and Marco froze staring at one another all dressed up. It was absolutely adorable the way that they stuttered out compliments to one another!

On the carriage ride to the ball, Marco and Star were acting really strange. Extremely giddy, like they were sitting on the edge of their metaphorical seats, waiting for something amazing to happen. You decided to savor their anticipation for as long as you could. When Star Butterfly bit her lip to refrain from letting out her evil fits of laughter, you knew she was plotting something.

The carriage rolled up to a stop by the castle, and since you had gotten used to life with Star, you delicately hopped out and waved goodbye as the carriage flew away. Turning back to Star and Marco, you grinned internally once you saw they were holding hands as they beamed up at the beauty of the castle in the night sky.

"Okay, everyone, are we ready? Y/n, you're going to meet someone very important tonight!" Star grinned over at you. You furrowed your brows.

"And just who am I going to be meeting tonight?"

"Oh, no one!" Marco quickly sputtered out before Star could say another word, pushing you both inside the castle. You were never really one for balls, especially ones from alternate dimensions, but with Star Butterfly, you were a fellow girl and you didn't quite have a choice. With Star's hand firmly gripped around yours with excitement, she led you and Marco through the throng of creatures conversing, burning to death in unicorn blood, and messing with trash cans. The three of you made it about halfway through the night fueled by trio dancing and the interesting assortment of food and drinks that were suspended midair on flying tables that you had to race to catch.

Finally, it was time for you to meet this mysterious person.

You had been dabbling in a bit of table racing with Marco, betting on which tables could get away from the creatures trying to have a taste of the substances they held faster, when Star came up behind you and grabbed your shoulders.

"N/n!" She shouted, making you scream in surprise. The three of you burst into a fit of laughter, Star wrapping her one arm around your bare shoulders and holding Marco's hand with the other.

"Are you ready to meet him?" She practically shrieked into your ear.

"Him?"

"Him. His name is Tom Lucitor." Marco answered.

"Tom Lucitor," you repeated, feeling a strange sensation of butterflies flutter around in your stomach at the name. Star couldn't contain herself anymore and burst out into a fit of giggles, whirling you around and attempting to fix your hair while you stood there in confusion and nervousness.

"Star, this isn't another hook up is it?" You questioned, narrowing your brows. Marco bit his lip to contain a smile and Star simply laughed, squishing your cheeks together.

"Don't worry, N/n. I've got it all under control!"

"I sincerely doubt that." You whined, leaning your head against Marco’s shoulder. 

“OH MY GOD THERE HE IS! TOM!” Star suddenly launched away from the two of you and began screeching her way through the crowd. You and Marco tried to keep track of the piled blonde hair through the crowd, but lost her after she passed by a dolphin. Wringing your hands together nervously, you turned to Marco once again and snapped him out of his longing gaze in Star’s direction by smashing his cheeks together so he would face you.

“Dude, I don’t know if this is a good idea. I mean, I’m weird. I’m awkward. And this is probably a hook up, one that I am not in the mood for! There’s no way he’s going to like me. He’s probably going to think I’m weird or creepy or ugly or-”

“Y/n, stop,” Marco laughed, grabbing your hands and holding them in his own. His brown eyes were warm as he offered you a smile. Marco had known about your self-consciousness for a while now, and your suicidal past with depressive tendencies. Your life had never been easy, and your brain sure wasn’t letting you off the hook. 

“You are amazing, whether you’d like to believe it or not. You’re beautiful, brave, kind, funny, and loyal. You’re also pretty badass too. Remember when you helped me and Star break out Pony Head from St. O’s? When you found that baseball bat and just went crazy smacking all those guards? You’re an amazing person, and the only person who doesn’t see that is yourself. He’s going to love you, believe me,” he suddenly winked at you, which made your eyes widen. “You two are closer than you think you are.”

He gently let go of your hands and smiled once again at you, only this time, you gave him one back. 

“Thanks, Marco,” you softly said. 

“Anytime, N/n-”

“HERE SHE IS!” You were once again interrupted by a screaming Star, only this time she was dragging someone along with her. Your heart began to pound with anticipation as she pushed the person into you. Not even having a change to take a good look at the person, you only saw a flash of pale lilac before he was practically shoved onto you, his height causing his chin to slightly bump against your head before he gently grabbed your arms to steady you before pulling back. 

“Y/n, this is Tom! Tom, this is Y/n, the girl I had been telling you about.” Star’s voice called out, only for some reason, time seemed to slow down drastically for her words seemed a little warped. Furrowing your brows, you slowly raised your eyes from the floor to take a good look at the person standing before you. Starting at his black as night tux and his shoes which were, wait, were they on fire? His strangely colored lilac skin which at first glance looked creepy, but was actually kind of unique and cute once you got used to it. Finally, your eyes landed on his face. He had beautiful salmony hair that was complimented by a set of horns on each side of his head. You breath hitched as you finally pieced together from the third eye just who were looking at. 

Tom Lucitor. As in demon prince of the underworld Tom Lucitor. How the hell did you never-

Then you finally met his eyes and the second that your e/c orbs met his red eyes, time suddenly froze. 

Star’s face was frozen into her squealing position next to a smirking Marco who had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. The tables had stopped flying, some suspended in midair, and the creatures who had previously been chasing them were frozen in the most weird facial expressions with their tongues sticking out. But none of that mattered, because for once you had finally gotten time to stop. And not only that, but the only people who weren’t frozen were you and the demon hybrid standing in front of you, the electricity between you two making it almost impossible for you to break eye contact with his beautiful and emotional red irises. 

Tom was the first to break eye contact, though reluctantly, and took a look around at the frozen figures before the two of you. You however, found it difficult to look away from him. You barely knew the mewman, and yet you felt such a connection to him. 

“Is the world frozen right now? Did Star freeze time again?” He questioned. Ugh, even his voice sent tingles down your spine. 

"It's t-the Time Stop," you stuttered out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Marco told me about it. It happens once you meet your soulmate and time continues only once we, um, physically touch."

A smirk danced across his lips and you felt your chest tighten. "Well, I don't know about you, but I kind of like the world like this. Time moves much too quickly without you, gorgeous." He winked at you. Your pulse begin to race, each beat as hard as a sledgehammer as a blush grew on your cheeks. Bashfully looking down at the floor, you sensed him step closer to you, already feeling the warmth from him radiate onto your exposed skin.

“This may seem a little out there since we just met, but you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” Raising your head once again to meet his lovestruck gaze, a smirk grew onto your lips as well.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because we’re soulmates?” Crossing your arms across your chest, you playfully teased him. He laughed then, grinning over at you, and it was then that you realized that even though he was a demon hybrid, you honestly didn’t care. Humans sucked anyways. Sorry, Marco.

“I may be a bit biased, but I still think that you’re gorgeous. And I’m just now realizing that you probably have had to deal with the other end of my anger issues...” he let out an awkward chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. Giggling, you dared to take another step towards him, sensing the sparks drifting between you two.

“Having my hands feel like they were on fire most of the time is definitely not as bad as the rest of my life has been up until recently. Plus, you’re not too hard on the eyes yourself,” you did your best attempt at flirting, feeling the burning in your cheeks. Even Tom had some color dusting his cheeks as he eagerly stepped even closer to you. You swore that you could see the fire dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m definitely looking forward to getting to know you,” he smirked.

“The feeling is most definitely mutual,” you giggled. A comfortable silence passed as you stared into each other’s eyes before you realized that the two of you couldn’t stay like this forever. 

“As much as I could definitely get used to just the two of us in a time frozen world, we should probably start time back up again, huh?” You asked, smiling softly. He stepped even closer to you, closing the distance bit by bit until your foreheads were almost touching. You felt the intense desire to just reach out and wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him, but suppressed yourself, instead choosing to wait to see what he did next. 

He smirked as he lifted his hand to hover next to your face. Your breath hitched once again until he finally cupped your cheek in his hand, so close that if you simply moved an inch, your lips would be on his. As soon as his warm skin touched your cheek, time started back up once again, only this time it was moving at a much more even pace. 

You never expected your soulmate to be a demon prince, but you already knew you wouldn’t trade Tom for anyone else. 

♡ a.a. 

[stormbornwithblackfyre]

My Game of Thrones S8 Rant.

At this point we have two episodes left in the entire Series of Game of Thrones and to be completely honest it's been underwhelming, disappointing, and rushed, which now that the honeymoon period of having my almost 2 year wait end i can clearly see.

The writing is the main issue I have with all of this. It all comes back to the writing. Too many times gor too many occasions have I asked "why?" It just feel like too many things don't make sense and too many things were done to be overtly dramatic and shocking, instead of leaning on the STORY and NARRATIVES which we as a fandom has been salivating over for the entire series.

Let's start with "The North" and their whole Saga and the Dilemma with The Night King, White Walkers, and AotD. An evil that was shown do us from the very first episode, very first scene if i am not mistaken. An ancient and evil magic, that the living will have to deal with, that the living will have to overcome or become just more members if the AotD. THAT was the driving force of S7 basically. The reason Jon and Dany meet? Dragonglass mountain under Dragonstone. Dragonglass? Oh, just ine of the 3 ways you can kill members of the AotD. The reason every main charachter besides a certain red head *Insert word here cause I'm trying my bet to not name call* showed up for a summit in the Dragonpit IN KING'S LANDING OF ALL PLACES? Oh, just to show Cersei a wight in an attempt to convince her to help fight which was an idiotic plan in it's own right. Bottomline is the Night King and his Army was a driving force and tbh i appreciate focussing one half if the last season on him and the other on Cersei. Issue is Cersei conventionally should have been hit with a "Fire Style Fireball Jutsu"

Off rip cause that was the easiest and SMARTEST MOVE. But i digress this is avout S8. So i have no conv eptyal plab with the amount of time in episodes gi en hi the threat north but the dialogue and context are what begin my frustrations.

Everything feels rushed immediately, as evidenced by Bran

Dropping the bomb of the wall falling and Viscerion being controlled by the NK. Now the pace quickens and thats cool but it gets jumbled and stats jumbled. Which makes the North and their resistance to Jon bending the knee so weird....or weirder than it already is. Yes you want independence. Yes you want to be held out of wars. Yes want to be isolated but.......THE WHITE WALKERS ARE COMING FOR YOU FIRST AND JON WAS YOUR KING. HE LEFT WITH NOTHING BUT DA(D)VOS AND A FEW GOOD MEN AND RETURNED WITH TWO ARMIES, TWO DRAGONS, AND WARS SUPPLY OF DRAGON GLASS AND A GODSDAMN QUEEN.....Why in gods name are any of them so cold and hesitant to people helping thwm when they didn't have to? Or at the very least why thorough the very end of that war does it last?

Which brings me to a certain Red head. Sansa Stark has cause way more friction and problems than necessary this season amd it's so ridiculous and petty and stupid that legitimately gwt upset thinking about it. Upset about Jon not telling you he was going to bend the knee? Fair point. Ask him why and how he bent the knee maybe hmm? Want to stand your ground and show Dany you are a Wolf of Winterfell amd wont be taken down without a fight? I respect the chutzpah but Dany is here to save the North and literally gave you the warmest of hellos along with layer on telling you tje obvious that she loves your brother after you state the obvious that he loves her too. Maybe sit down and discuss the fate Winterfell and the North after the war is won before the war begins hmm? Mad Two armies, Two Dragons, and A Queens entourage now must be housed? THEN DIE ON YOUR GODSDAMN OWN AND JOIN THE ARMY OF THE GODSDAMN DEAD......Sansa and her pettiness and nothing. NOTHING...of use to the season until she breaks a swear to her own brother. Now we all know biologically they are cousins but They grew up Brother and Sister tho not the beat relationship. She swore to him i front of Their other Brother and Sister in the Godswood no less that she wouldn't tell a soul.......and then goes and Tells Tyrion. Why? Please. Anyone. Anyone please tell me why. I have zero clue. Break an oath to the man who was a brother to you? Why? You don't want Daenerys, the woman who saved your entire country from Death's icy grip, as tge Seven Kingdom's queen? Why? None of it makes sense. None. And for those who dare say she's "Playing the Game" No she isn't Triple H amd no it's not time to play the game it's time to think rationally.

Next up is the choices made by the writers that just rubbed me the wrong way and shot down my faith in the show. First and foremost Sam and the Tarly reveal. Absolute ridiculousness. Randyll Tarly, Sam's father, basically said to Sam: You aren't what a real man is, you aren't what a Lord should be, you are garbage. Go to the Wall or I'll take you out back and end you myself.

Now, person who may or may not read this, I don't know about you but i would tap dance on the grave of my father if he said and did to me what Randyll did to Sam. Period. End of discussion. On to Dickon *Insert snicker here* Tarly. I would have less hate for him but still no love. Dickon was now heir. Dickon was now going to get all the land and wealth and possesions and titles that nelonged to Sam simply do to patriarchy and age. (which is another discussion but we all know is how GOT is governed) So I have no clue why sam is boo hooing about either of the two. Now here's the kicker. Randyll Tarly....along with Dickon Tarly...COMMITED TREASON. TREASON AGAINST THE HOUSE THEY WERE SWORN TO FOR GENERATIONS. They also HAD. A. CHOICE. Death or Bend the knee. They chose death. End of story. Sam being a little shook? Understandable. Full fledged sobs? Stop watching Lifetime movies D & D.

That leads to Sam telling Jon, R+L=J with spite and anger which in all honesty is bullshit and Sam is a bullshit friend for it. You can't tell your supposed best friend his life was a lie n an attempt to get back at someone who honestly did you no wrong. Just bad decisions all around and feels lazy on top of it all.

Then comes the shock and awe that really just.....*Deep sigh* takes away from it all. No issue with Arya saving us. Being the hero that kills the NK. Being the Princess who was promised. But wait.......It was shock value? This was a decision made 7 years into this show? Not off rip? Jon and the NK stare downs were.....just stare downs? While all along we learn nada of the NK? Shock value is a no go most times and this is why. No substance. No merrit. Ep 4 references Arya as the hero....maybe 3 times in small passing. It just felt l like it didn't matter. More shock that was there dor shocks sake was Rhaegal dying. How did Dany not see them? Why did Dany not see them? HOW WAS I THE ONLY ONE PRESENT THINKING TO MYSELF THEY'LL BE AMBUSHED? Tyrion too drunk? Jon to tired with having to Defend Dany against Sansa because Sansa on that bullshit? Varys all of a sudden cant get information? Like how was THAT not foreseen and how wans every boltshot at Rhaegal a guranteed hit? The most shock value of all was Missandei, former slave and a POC being re chained and then killed in a foreign land by a foreign person(who's Caucasian as you guessed) for nothing. It was a heart stabber indeed and makes you want to see Dany destroy Cersei and Grewworm sestroy the Mountain but unnecessary.

All in all I'm real hurt. Real hurt. Totally prepared to wipe S8 from my mind and have GOT with S7. If you read any of this, welcome to my ted talk, sorry for rambling haha.

[ettadunham]

A Buffy rewatch 4x09 Something Blue

aka daa-ba-da-dee-ba-da-baa da-ba-da-dee-dabah

Welcome to this dailyish text post series where I will rewatch an episode of Buffy and go on an impromptu rant about it for an hour. Is it about one hyperspecific thing or twenty observations? 10 or 3k words? You don’t know! I don’t know!!! In this house we don’t know things.

And today’s episode is just 45 minutes of season 6 foreshadowing I guess. Let’s help Riley picking up the clues for that puzzle, cause he sure ain’t solving Buffy.

Listen, I’m too old for the Buffy/Riley relationship. That’s what I landed on. He’s the boyfriend you might think you want in college - and half the time he really is genuinely sweet, but years later you also remember how super patronizing he’s been all along.

I don’t want to be too harsh to Riley though. There’s major baggage attached to all of Buffy’s boyfriends (+ Faith), and he’s mostly alright, I’d just prefer if we did more subversion with him. Painting him as the nice perfect guy contrasting what Buffy considers her “Bad Boy” syndrome is a no win for everyone.

Maybe it’s the 29-year-old in me, but I’m also not a fan of the “women are a mystery” narrative either. It mostly just reads as “I don’t know enough women and / or lack the basic empathy skills to understand that they’re people like me”.

Anyway, back to Dark Willow Jr.

Even though Oz left back in 4x06, this is the episode where we’re truly exploring Willow’s grief about it. And it’s not nice. Willow definitely has trouble dealing with her emotions, especially when it comes to pain.

Here, we’re even seeing her trying to drown her sorrows by drinking… Light Beer? Which is kind of hilariously overreacted, but I understand that it’s more about the idea behind it, and of Willow trying to dull her emotions with substance abuse, than what they’re actually showing us.

But it’s not enough. (I mean, it’s one lousy Light Beer, what did we expect?)

Willow:  I just can't stand feeling this way. I want it to be over. Buffy:  It will. I promise. But it's gonna take time. Willow:  Well, that's not good enough. Buffy:  I know. It's just how it is. You have to go through the pain. Willow:  Well, isn't there someway I can just make it go away? Just ‘cause I say so? Can't I just make it go ‘poof'?

This single exchange tells so much about Willow’s character. I want to pin it, so I can go back to it for every future Willow analysis.

Willow doesn’t want to go through the pain. She wants to be free of it. We also see her being super snippy with her friends, in a way trying to redirect what she’s feeling onto them.

And maybe she’s also picking up a bit on their frustration, which we hear them express at one point; but to their credits, Buffy and Xander are both trying to be as patient and supportive as possible. And that’s not always easy.

Xander: We all have pain, Will. Willow: Oh, like what?  "Oh, poor me.. I live in a basement." Yeah, that's dire.

Giles is… less understanding as he’s confronting Willow about not showing up to their appointment though. His behaviour here shows that as much as we’re thinking of Giles as a dad figure, he’s mostly just that for Buffy. He generally has less patience when it comes to the rest of the Scoobies.

Also, he’s been having Spike in his bathtub for who knows how long now, so he deserves to be cut some slack here.

Willow’s talk with Buffy after that however, is full of juicy foreshadowing. Let me show you what I mean.

Buffy: Giles just worries. Spells can be dangerous. It doesn't mean he thinks you're a bad witch. Willow: I am a bad witch.

And then…

Willow: If I had any real power, I could have made Oz stay with me. Buffy: Will, you wouldn't have wanted him to have stayed— Willow: And I didn't have the guts to do the spell on Veruca.

Yikes. Imagine if she had the power to make someone she loved stay with her. And was in enough pain to take full revenge on the people responsible for taking them away from her. Imagine that.

It’s interesting going back to this episode and trying to analyze what pain does to Willow. She’s always a bit needy, and has a curiosity for power, but she’s usually tempered by empathy and an understanding where her own feelings come from. Here however, understanding why she’s feeling the way she does, doesn’t make things better.

Even if Willow understands that she’s lashing out at her friends due to her sadness about Oz, she’s just tired. She just wants it all to stop.

So she turns to magic, because of course she does. And it backfires, because of course it does.

In that sense, Something Blue shares the most DNA with Tabula Rasa - another episode that’s mostly remembered for its fun moments, but the plot happens because Willow is trying to solve her relationship issues with magic. (”Now with more yikes.” - a Tabula Rasa ad, probably.)

We’re even joking about it here:

Buffy: We may be into a forgetting spell later.

See? It’s foreshadowing palooza.

There’s of course also the Spike/Buffy relationship which we’re seeing happen for the first time. I also want to circle back to one of Buffy’s early lines in the episode.

Buffy: But I can't help thinking — isn't that where the fire comes from? Can a nice, safe relationship be that intense? I know it's nuts, but.. part of me believes that real love and passion have to go hand in hand with pain and fighting. I wonder where I get that from.

Well, I don’t know, Buffy. It certainly sounds like the same bullshit Spike was on in Lovers Walk about how lovers can’t be friends. And I already mentioned how I kind of hate that we’re painting Riley as the antithesis for that kind of romance, when there are much better examples for sort-of-functioning-not-at-each-others-throats couples on this show. (Expect me to circle back to the whole exes can’t be friends theme with New Moon Rising too once I get to it.)

Another detail in this episode is Spike commenting on Willow being miserable, while the rest of the gang are talking about how she’s ‘dealing well’. It’s one of the many examples proving Spike as highly observant, which is a cool part of his character… But I also feel like it sometimes leads to fallacies (which I personally consider his speech in Lovers Walk to be).

Spike notices things, and he voices those observations, but that doesn’t mean that what he says is true. One should always remember that Spike is still dressing up those truths in his own perspective. For instance, take last episode, where Spike made a speech about how they should stop debating the whole Native American spirit debacle. There was certainly truth to what he said, but it also seemed to simplify the entire conversation around the issue, not just in their specific circumstances.

In any case, Something Blue is insanely fun, even if I spent all this rant fixating on its most depressing implications.

You should probably expect the same kind of treatment for Tabula Rasa, once that’s on the table. (“I don’t think this is gonna work.”) We’re here to do a Buffy rewatch, not to have fun.

[marvelandponder]

(This is why I disagree with fans who say she's a narcissist) *laughs nervously* um about that I was going through a time where I was gung ho about making pinkie look like a better person then her in defensive mode*still kinda am but I think distancing myself from the toxic people mellowed me out* besides If a fictional character does fit the narcissism trait it's bloo from fosters home for imaginary friends. So you're right she isn't a narcissist.

Hey, don’t worry about it! And just so you know I wasn’t referencing you, it’s a description I’ve seen multiple times throughout the fandom.

Plus, it’s okay, we all get defensive about our favourite characters from time-to-time, don’t sweat it.

Also, to be entirely fair, Rainbow Dash is close to legitimately having narcissistic personality disorder.

Like, here are the actual symptoms as outlined by the DSM-5 (this is the system used to actually diagnose people with disorders):

“The essential features of a personality disorder are impairments inpersonality (self and interpersonal) functioning and the presence ofpathological personality traits. To diagnose narcissistic personalitydisorder, the following criteria must be met:

A. Significant impairments in personality functioning manifest by:1. Impairments in self functioning (a or b):a. Identity: Excessive reference to others for self-definitionand self-esteem regulation; exaggerated self-appraisalmay be inflated or deflated, or vacillate between extremes;emotional regulation mirrors fluctuations in self-esteem.b. Self-direction: Goal-setting is based on gaining approvalfrom others; personal standards are unreasonably high inorder to see oneself as exceptional, or too low based on asense of entitlement; often unaware of own motivations.

AND

2. Impairments in interpersonal functioning (a or b):a. Empathy: Impaired ability to recognize or identify with thefeelings and needs of others; excessively attuned toreactions of others, but only if perceived as relevant to self;over- or underestimate of own effect on others.b. Intimacy: Relationships largely superficial and exist toserve self-esteem regulation; mutuality constrained by littlegenuine interest in others‟ experiences and predominanceof a need for personal gain

B. Pathological personality traits in the following domain: Antagonism, characterized by:

a. Grandiosity: Feelings of entitlement, either overt or covert; self-centeredness; firmly holding to the belief that one is better than others; condescending toward others.b. Attention seeking: Excessive attempts to attract and be the focus of the attention of others; admiration seeking.

C. The impairments in personality functioning and the individual‟spersonality trait expression are relatively stable across time andconsistent across situations.

D. The impairments in personality functioning and the individual‟spersonality trait expression are not better understood as normativefor the individual‟s developmental stage or socio-culturalenvironment.

E. The impairments in personality functioning and the individual‟spersonality trait expression are not solely due to the directphysiological effects of a substance (e.g., a drug of abuse,medication) or a general medical condition (e.g., severe headtrauma).”

Source (x)

Okay, so basically how this works (as of the DSM-5, it can be updated to DSM-6 and so on) is that Dash would have to all criteria, from A to E.

A is the most complicated, but if you follow it, it basically says she has to have impairments in self-functioning and interpersonal-functioning (it’s just for each of those, she could be either one thing or another to meet that criteria).

B she has to meet both criteria, just to be clear (which she totally does).

She meet C (as in, yes, this she is consistently egotistical over time, and it’s not a one-time occurrence). She meets D, I think, because she’s more egotistical than normal for her age or background. And of course she meets E, because this isn’t the result of a substance or medical condition.

It’s A that she doesn’t meet, and that’s sort of a key one (C-E are diagnostic criteria for a lot of disorders, it doesn’t say all that much without A&B being completely met). 

Rainbow Dash doesn’t have problems with either empathy or intimacy---in this case meaning she has and makes genuine connections with ponies, not just so she can have cheering section. Without that piece, she doesn’t meet the diagnostic criteria.

There’s also the point I was making in the editorial, at least I’m pretty sure. Looking closer at the wording in the DSM-5, it might actually be true that narcissists can have too little self-esteem: “emotional regulation mirrors fluctuations in self-esteem,” but I’m still not sure. I’m not a professional, either, so never take my interpretations as hard and fast facts. 

But, my point was I think Dash’s insecurities may be a little too deep to meet the criteria, but it doesn’t matter anyway since she can’t meet B. 

I think the only reason I give a dang about all this is because I’m a Psychology student, so while narcissistic is just adjective, it’s sort of similar (maybe not as extreme) to how people describe themselves as “depressed” when they’re a bit sad, or “anorexic” when they’re just skinny. I know you, for one, don’t like that, and I tend to agree.

It’s not accurate. I get that it’s a figure of speech, and when a person uses the words that way it’s just exaggerating to make a point, but the trouble comes (in this case) in when people use the word enough times that they think Rainbow would actually have the disorder. She’s close, but genuinely loves her friends and has struggles with her self-esteem. 

More importantly, using the terms inaccurately like that can arguably delegitimize people who actually have these disorders (but that’s a whole other can of worms).

Bloo, from Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, is probably closer. I mean, I’d really have to go back and watch Foster’s again to really say, but I grew up on that show among others, and from what I can remember, you’re not wrong. He was entertaining and for some reason I have a soft spot for ego-driven characters (I wonder what that says about me ;), but yeah, I’d probably be inclined to agree.