#they’re bad because they HURT REAL PEOPLE.

[zebulontheplanet]

This this this!!

Mental health is not something taken seriously with HSN people. It’s not something taken seriously with them at all. It’s always marked as something different. Extreme mood swings? Just unpredictable and behavioral issues. Hallucinations and delusions? Just in their own little world. They not even understand what hallucinations and delusions are right? So therefore can’t have them. Am Medium-High support needs. Grew up high support needs and was until my teens. I am intellectually disabled. Always always marked as those things. Took until very late in life to be diagnosed.

My Schizoaffective disorder was not taken seriously. Wasn’t diagnosed until very very late in life, although showed symptoms very very young. Even sometimes think was born with it. Always just marked as being in my own little world. Talking to myself? Just imagination. Not understand real world. Not understand reality. Delusions? Just don’t understand reality. My cognitive function “just too low” to understand reality from imagination. “Lying” because I believe something happened when another thing happened? Again, just in own little world. Don’t understand.

Depression was even worse, and so was thoughts of hurting myself or ending it. Depression? Behavioral issues. Something that could be fixed by bad behavioral therapy.

Bipolar that wasn’t diagnosed until late? Meltdowns. Behavioral issues. Just apart of being autistic. Right? Just apart of being higher support needs. Mood swings? They’re Meltdowns.

Doctors didn’t believe me until I was very much older. Doctors thought it was all due to my autism. Even when it was so bad I required hospitalization, was all symptoms of autism. “Autistic people hallucinate sometimes” “it’s just behavioral issues” “it’s just meltdowns” “it’s just attention seeking behavior” none of it was. None of it was “just autism”. It was severe mental health issues. And no one believed me. Put me on strong medication to try and “help”. Make me go to therapists that know nothing about how to handle autistic people so they just let you sit there and talk to you like child. They recommend coping skills that don’t work because they don’t believe others will work on someone like you. “Why don’t you color?” “Why don’t you paint?” “I’ve had great success with insert random coping skill, with people like you”

It’s hard. No one believes you. No one takes you seriously. Wasn’t until adult, even though show many symptoms young that was diagnosed. And even now, people don’t take me seriously. It’s rough, and I wish more people talked about it.

It's a common idea amongst ALOT of LSN autistic people that HSN autistic people in general don't struggle with mental health, and that people who are HSN autistic are HSN because that's just the areas they ended up needing more support, and that it levels out and that in general LSN autistics struggle most in their mental health and HSN autistics struggle with other things.

It stems from peoples misunderstanding, and not wanting to accept there are people out there who have more support needs in every single area that they do, more severe in every single area.

But I'd argue someone who has such extreme sensory issues being in the presence of another person causes meltdowns that last hours on end, someone that needs to be restrained for hours a day or else will literally die, that's housbound due to extreme sensory issues, wants to die and has extreme sadness every single time there is a small change such as the light going on and off, but also does not have the skills to communicate anything to anyone so can never talk about how they feel and even as simple as if they feel unwell.

Struggles significantly more with their mental health than someone who simply dislikes their life and feels anxious, and those with more severe mental health problems as-well.

Someone with HSN autism and severe mental health problems can co exist, and I think alot of people seem to forget that. Someone can be HSN with all their needs met and still have a terrible quality of life.

[night-owl-bard]

My Personal Experience with Mizuki and Mizu5

Coming out, fear of abandonment, loneliness, and learning to trust others.

When I started liking and following the Project SEKAI franchise, the game hadn't even been released in its global version yet. So you can tell I’ve been here for quite some time.

I identified with Mizuki right from the beginning. A person whose defense mechanism is to avoid or joke around in tense or conflicting situations? Someone with deep-seated anxiety and fear of being alone? Someone who never shows their true self out of fear of rejection? Well, that’s just me.

When I first started following the story, I was about the same age as the characters. Now I’m older, with more life experience—which, while not a lot, still makes me quite different from how I was when I was Mizuki's age.

The 'core' of this character revolves around two things: identity and connection.

Mizuki wants to be themselves—to dress, behave, and live in a way that feels true and comfortable.

And Mizuki wants to have people by their side. They want to feel supported, to support others, to hang out with real friends, and to have people who stay in their life. They're tired of losing.

Mizuki believes these two desires can’t coexist.

At first, they purposely keep their distance from the rest of Niigo so that, when the inevitable happens and everyone leaves, it won’t hurt as much. Later, they decide to make the most of the time they have left with the group. Mizuki doesn’t doubt that Niigo might accept them; they fear that Niigo only accepts them out of kindness, as if it’s out of pity.

Mizuki doesn’t want to be treated like a charity case. They want genuine connection, true belonging.

I don’t relate as much to Mizuki’s personality (I think Kanade is the one most like me), but I deeply connect with their struggles around identity and gender expression (I’m agender and AFAB) as well as with their issues of trust and abandonment.

I’m doing much better these days, but I know all too well what it feels like to want to disappear, to push people away out of fear that they’ll leave first, to keep everyone at arm's length. I have amazing friends who give me all the support in the world (they’re my Rui, wishing my heart to be protected haha).

Sometimes, I still fear ending up alone, that other circumstances will drive us apart, or that they're only kind to me because they’re good people. But those are just the bad days, which eventually fade away into a sea of good ones.

When I look at Mizuki, I see my younger self—scared, sad, lonely, and hopeless. I deeply wish to see a healing arc for them, just like we’re seeing with Mafuyu. It would be wonderful to see a character I identify with so much learn that they can have a happy life.

That they can be themselves and still be loved

[1moreff-creator]

Do you have any Teruvid headcanons??? If so... *Grabby hands* 🥺👉👈

Hey! Man, Teruvid, huh? Well, I have to be honest and say I don’t know if I fully grasp what the dynamic would be like, but I’ll see what I can do! Non-despair AU as always, just to keep consistency with my other ship posts :v Or, perhaps a better term would be "non-killing game AU"; it's hard to imagine Teruvid without despair lmao.

CW: Toxic relationship, gaslighting.

How this relationship would start is hard to imagine, really. Especially outside the stress of the killing game. Teruko never believed David’s cheery persona was real, so she didn’t like the guy from the start.

However, outside of the killing game, David wouldn’t be actively trying to kill anyone, and Xander and Teruko would probably still be friends, so it actually works out better than expected. Presumably, the way this works outside the killing game is that David eventually realizes Teruko doesn’t believe his façade and chooses to start dropping it around her, eventually enjoying her company just because he doesn’t have to keep up a tiring act. Teruko doesn’t like him at first, so I imagine it would be David confessing. Something like, uh...

David: We both know no one will ever love us the way we are. And we won’t love each other either, and this is going to end horribly.  Teruko: Then why the hell are you even asking? David: It’s for your benefit, you know. More than anyone else, you must be well aware your luck will ruin any relationship you ever have. Teruko: … David (fake smiling, stars in eyes): But most of them will try to be optimistic, won’t they? Thinking themselves above your luck, wishing that if they just try hard enough, this time, it will work out. How hopeful~. Teruko: … And? David (smirking): And that just means it will hurt them all the worse when it all comes crashing down. And you'll feel even more miserable after all's said and done than you did in the first place. That wouldn't happen with me. Not that I'll let you, but you wouldn't care if you hurt me anyways.

Yeah I can’t see this relationship being healthy in any way lmao.

Like, they hate each other even together, that’s the Vision of Teruvid shippers right? They would both be miserable the entire time it’s happening, since they both reinforce the worst and most damaging views the other holds. If the Ultimate Inspirational Speaker can’t even inspire himself to think things can get better, then Teruko has no reason to believe they will. And if Teruko never tries to change despite hating her life, then that confirms to David that people can’t change. The relationship is held together by the illusory comfort of confirmation bias; neither has to challenge their worldviews like they would in a relationship that genuinely made them happy, so they feel at peace in their shared misery.

Speaking of, the most common intimate interaction is venting to each other about whatever bullshit they got going on, be it unfortunate events or Speaker business annoyance. Now, neither is particularly good at giving comfort, but they’re also both bad at receiving it (they don’t understand the concept that people can feel genuine affection towards them, of course), so they settle on just… not comforting each other. Just a simple “sucks” after a long rant, or even laughing at each other’s misery, but again, illusory comfort in being able to vent out their issues without having someone actually worry and care for them, because they don’t know how to handle that.

Other than that, lots of just cuddling while doing random shit. They’re both horrendously touch starved, so they never stay physically apart if possible.

That said, though, they’re not very public with their relationship. Obviously; if Teruko never seemed to like David, then they’re suddenly together, that’s gonna raise a few eyebrows. And David still tries to keep up the Speaker persona outside his one on one interactions with Teruko, a persona that Teruko dislikes due to its disingenuity, so they never really hang out in the presence of others.

Their closest friends know, except none of them actually realize that David’s persona is a lie. They think they’re keeping it quiet not to attract attention to Teruko, given David is a public figure and all. Because of that, they actually think they’re good for each other, thinking that David’s optimism and Teruko’s pessimism balance out to be pretty functional. This fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship makes David and Teruko both feel even more alienated from their friends, which feeds into the codependency. They need each other, because they’re the only ones that get it.

Indeed, this is a serious “they would make each other so much worse” situation, I can’t see Teruvid in any other way. Unless they both get some serious therapy, and even then, the way I’ve described the relationship, it would fall apart if either of them were any more stable. So, uh, yeah.

I kinda struggle to come up with much more than this for these two, so I hope that was okay! Thanks for the ask!

[kiwisandpearls]

I’m gonna be real here:

if someone points out how certain artwork or ships of certain fictional characters is just fiction and your response is “well it’s still bad to make that fiction” I’m just straight up assume you don’t actually understand why actions such as abuse and grooming are so abhorrent.

[professorjirt]

not to be bitter about the Durins again but it will never stop pissing me off to a burning degree that in the movies Kíli dies off in a little corner with no one but one elf he met two days ago around, and she’s nerfed to the point she’s utterly helpless until RIGHT AFTER he’s killed. It feels so bullshit and unfulfilling. I remember me and a friend were huge fans of the Durins (her even more than me) as well as the little Kíli and Tauriel side story back when the movies came out, and we watched it in theatres and she literally said she would never watch that scene again bc it disappointed her so badly. She skips it to this day. Bc why the fuck did they have Kíli die for an elf he barely knew (I like Tauriel but it is true— they’ve known each other for maybe two or three days total) over the family he ran out into battle to defend, the family he set out on the quest with and the family that he was so proud of. Why was he not with his brother, or trying to defend his uncle who was still very much alive and in danger? Tauriel literally just serves to get Kíli killed in that scene, bc they nerf her (CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD. Even against a tough orc she should be holding her own) but have Legolas out there holding his own, and it is nowhere NEAR as emotionally devestating as the single sentence we’re given in the book of how Kíli and Fíli went down defending their uncle. I can almost excuse the change in how Fíli dies bc it does hold emotional weight, but Kíli’s death going from the devotion of family even to his own doom into dying for an elf he has puppy love for while being totally cut off from the other dwarves fucking killed the scene for me. And there isn’t really even a good payoff for Tauriel afterward either. We just leave her there regretting she ever loved him. It hurts me so damn much, and not least of which is because for every video someone does as a tribute to Thorin and his nephews, it always takes a sharp left turn into Tauriel watching Kíli die all by himself and it doesn’t even feel related to the other’s deaths. I think it would have felt much more like the best of both if they’d kept Kíli dying defending his family, and then have Tauriel come to him as he’s dying. But that’s not what happened. It fucking sucks. I promise I do like the movies but I will stand hard by saying that it’s weakest writing is the latter half of the second and the former half of the third movie. It only really picks up to consistently good scenes at Thorin’s battle with Azog in my opinion. Sorry for another brief hater moment but man. Man.

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

tw: abuse discussion, intimate partner violence, grooming discussion, power and control. Trying to be vague here and not fly too close to the muse Sun

Re: red tv and the manuscript discourse, I wonder if people realize that it is actually possible to have abusive/toxic/harmful relationships with people your own age, too? Like even if Taylor and jg were 2 years apart, harm still could’ve occurred….? Like it was obviously not grooming bc that is a very specific set of experiences usually involving a child and a person in a position of trust/power like a parent or teacher or coach etc (I know this bc I lived it!!!). But like… that is not the only kind of harm that can happen to young people???? Her youth/naivety was definitely a factor in how fucked up the situation was but it was not the only element. Power dynamics do not begin and end at age. Adults can fuck each other up, too…

[urgeforgoing]

.

[goldensunset]

the sibs and i have been having a gossip session about our parents while we’re all in the car together and while i’m also part of the conversation i’m just trying to talk openly and honestly about my feelings and observations without being overly cruel and malicious but my siblings don’t care they’re just trying to be as nasty as possible and i feel like i’m working overtime trying to rein it in and to be fair to our parents and i am socially and spiritually exhausted

[loptrcoptr]

I’m glad people are talking about this on good ol tumblr dot com, because I swear I only took a hiatus from this site for half a year, after a solid decade or so of daily tumblr use, and in that time I can already see an enormous change in attitudes toward shipping/fandom/interests in general that kind of worry me. So for those of yall who are young or maybe not so set in your ways…

your interests are your own and you don’t owe anyone shit. That includes explaining yourself for posting about your interests. No, no, babe. It’s your blog, it’s your rules, you do what you want.

You can’t judge a person by their tastes. Not just “don’t judge”, I’m saying you fully cannot. You can tell a lot about a person, sure, but you can’t know entirely what they are like and what their “morals” are based on the media they consume or things they are into. has a friend or partner ever told you about something they did in bed and you were like “wow idk if I would do that”. Did you immediately decide it made them a bad person and server ties?? No. That’s not how life works.

To be “interested” is not automatically to condone, and you can be fascinated with something without agreeing with anything about it. That girl on your bus who listens to serial killer podcasts and reads murderer autobiographies is not the same as a serial killer. One kills people, and the other is fascinated by it. it’s okay to inform yourself about taboo things because the taboo is inherently intriguing. The point is that you’re not out there breaking the social agreement and doing Bad Stuff. It’s kind of like saying anyone who’s into rape fantasy is inherently a rapist and that the existence of the subject is an afront to rape victims. But I gotta tell you, as a rape victim: go off queen, that’s your business. My lived experience is not relevant to your fantasy. No one’s is.

And for the love of all the gods I am begging you: there is no hierarchy of queer shipping that is more or less gay, makes you more or less gay for enjoying it, or makes you a disrespecter of the internet lgbtqiap2s+ community at large for enjoying it. I have seen so much of this type of shit in the last few months, and it genuinely frightens me. Sure, ship wars and anon hate and all that crap have always been a thing in fandom. However, this escalation into some kind of Queer Ship Pyramid of Objective Goodness is at best, whack, and at worst harmful to people’s self-worth and the next generation of kids coming online and figuring out their sexualities and identities. it used to be you just defined tropes, genders, gender identities, sexualities, and sexual acts in your tags and called it a day and that’s just… that. Now I’m finding this pattern reflected from old school anti-bi, anti-trans spaces; do not ship bi couples, they’re basically straight, even if one is trans, gender fluid, or enbi; shipping two hetero men is really just for basic straight women and is in and of itself an isolating act that ignores the needs of the queer community; ships that don’t include anyone who is trans show you have no imagination and that you are a disrespectful terf on the inside; ships that are monogamous are inherently Not That Gay, regardless of any identities or sexualities therein, because polyamory is the real pinnacle of queer evolution and something every queer person should aspire to. and I want to make it very clear that absolutely none of that is remotely true.

And it worries me that there’s this sliding scale of Nothing Being Gay Enough in fandom now. Like we’ve taken a good thing so far that now people don’t know how to enjoy it and still want that oldie but goodie gay-one-upmanship from the mid 2010s on tumblr: “I’m a better gay than you are, and I know that, because look at your tastes”. And I just hope that teens and folks in their early years of adulthood or early years of discovering their sexualities and identities know that none of that shit is real, and you are gay if you decide you’re gay, and it is not a ladder you have to climb, with monogamy, same sex relationships, and pan and bi identities on the bottom and only-trans cohabitational polyamory on the top. That is not how you support people, and it is not how you support yourself. what you’re saying is “my trans friend isn’t as trans as I am because I have two partners and he is monogamous”; “I’m a lesbian but im a better lesbian than my ex because her girlfriend is cis and mine is a butch demiboy”. This kind of shit is just an extension of the age old “you’re gay, but not that gay, because you’ve only slept with one person of the same sex, and I’ve slept with loads”.

You’re queer because you say you are, and the best way to be a queer ally to others is to not project your own self hatred upward and attempt to win an “uwu more oppresssed than u” battle online. The only person you’re fighting is yourself. It doesn’t make you less poly to read a fic with a monogamous ship. It doesn’t make you less gay to read a fic with a straight ship. It doesn’t make you less trans to read a fic where someone doesn’t have the same headcanon about a trans character as you do. your fandom preferences don’t affect your queer street cred, and it costs you nothing to ignore your friend’s ships instead of convincing yourself you’re better and gayer than they are. All that kind of attitude does is hurt you farther down the road. You’re not what you consume, and fic is for you, not for what you think will somehow make others online think you’re “gayer”.

(Sorry to bandwagon so extensively, op, this topic just concerns the hell out of me)

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[inkoutsidethelines]

Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.

The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.

Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.

Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.

Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.

Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.

Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).

Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.

[temporarytemporal]

cling to me

I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.

Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.

Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence

Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)

Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.

Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.

L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers

Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.

Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy

You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.

Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young

Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.

Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.

Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.

Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses

Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there

Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.

Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.

Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.

Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand

Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.

Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.

Post Revival:

Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.

Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.

Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.

Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.

Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.

Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.

Post DSMP:

The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.

[ghostfacd]

IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him

AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!

tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?

tagged @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously

user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god

user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways

user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better

➥ user4 well someone had to say it..

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

You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.

It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.

The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.

Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.

You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.

Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.

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

tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters

view all comments

user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her

user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS

user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹

tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth

rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊

user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol

➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”

➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8

tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

view all comments

user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single

user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??

user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵

ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts

user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg

ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!

view all comments

tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too

➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED

user14 literal unbothered icon i love her

user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”

iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY

lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻

➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate

user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot

tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso

tagged @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth

user18 ok who’s cutting onions

user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS

➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐

user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys

user22 parentssss

rachelzegler my favorites

ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS

view all comments

tomblyth yn, i love you but

➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence

user24 the second pic thank u yn

joshandresrivera on top of u maybe

➥ user25 IM DYING OML

user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever

[luna-azzurra]

Writing a Morally gray character

Think about their backstory, what shaped them into who they are? What do they believe in? And, most importantly, what pushes them to get out of bed every morning and keep going? These characters aren’t simple good or bad. They’re caught in the middle, in that murky, complicated space between black and white. That’s where they get interesting because they’re constantly wrestling with themselves, trying to figure out the right choice, or if the “right” choice even exists for them.

You need to show this internal battle. Imagine your character being torn between what they believe is morally right and what they actually want. This is where the real drama comes in, it’s like watching them juggle their principles with their desires in real-time. They’ll mess up, and they’ll make decisions that are sometimes questionable, but that’s what makes them human and relatable. One way to really highlight their complexity is by putting them in situations where there’s no clear answer. You know, those moments in life where everything’s kind of a mess, and you’re stuck trying to figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do? Your character should face situations like that. These gray areas create tension because readers won’t know which direction the character will go, and honestly, your character might not know either.

And don’t forget, growth is a huge part of writing a morally gray character. People aren’t static, they change based on what happens to them, and your character should too. Maybe they start off with a strong sense of morality but, over time, that starts to shift. Or maybe they start with shaky ethics and slowly become a better person as they learn from their mistakes. Growth can also go the other way, they could spiral downward, giving in to darker impulses. Either way, they need to evolve, just like people do in real life. That’s what keeps the story fresh and unpredictable. The last thing you want is a character that stays the same the whole way through.

Also, please, no stereotypes. A morally gray character doesn’t have to be a brooding anti-hero with a tragic past (unless that’s your vibe, but even then, switch it up). Give them quirks that make them unique. Maybe they have unexpected motivations, like they’re doing something shady for a cause they genuinely believe in, or they’ve got a weird sense of humor that throws people off. Whatever it is, make sure they feel like an individual, not just a copy-paste character we’ve all seen a million times.

Even when your character makes decisions that aren’t exactly clean-cut or heroic, the reader still needs to understand why. Show their vulnerabilities, why they doubt themselves, why they hesitate, and why they ultimately make the choices they do. It’s all about making them relatable, even when they’re walking that fine line between right and wrong. People might not always agree with them, but they should at least be able to see where they’re coming from.

And remember, every choice your character makes should have consequences. They don’t exist in a bubble. Their decisions should ripple out and affect not only them but the people around them. Maybe they make a selfish decision, and it ends up hurting someone they care about, or they try to do the right thing, and it blows up in their face. One last thing, just because your character lives in that gray area doesn’t mean they don’t have any sense of right or wrong. They might have their own personal code they follow, even if it doesn’t line up with society’s morals. Maybe they justify their actions in a way that makes sense to them, even if other people wouldn’t agree. It’s all about exploring that space where they’re not totally good, but not totally bad either. That’s where things get really interesting.

Think about where your character is going. Is their journey going to push them to become a better version of themselves? Will they fall back into old patterns and never really change? Or will they stay stuck in that moral gray zone, constantly torn between doing what’s right and doing what feels right for them?

[icanlife]

Very tired of people who continue to argue that Bill destroying Euclydia was completely on purpose and he didn’t care about anyone at all because he’s just trying to garner sympathy in The Book of Bill, despite all the supporting evidence outside of Bill’s words that allude to how deeply traumatic it was, (so many, many things about) how he loved and misses his parents, how much of a sore spot the topic is for him, how much he wants to return home but can’t, etc. in addition to how perfectly Alex and co. crafted a parallel narrative between Bill and Ford, including how they hurt the people they love out of carelessness and blind pursuit of their dreams, justifying to themselves that the people they hurt just couldn’t understand

Yes, Bill is an unreliable narrator, and that includes all the very obvious posturing that he did it all on purpose and it was actually a very good thing, that everyone loved him, that he’s NOT incarcerated or anything and that he’s still a really all-powerful being, etc etc etc. To fully believe that EVERY vulnerability he reveals is an evil manipulation tactic, and not actual character writing, you have to interpret his very prevalent denial of weakness, which continues into the conclusion of the book where he already knows he’s lost the reader and is still denying any emotional needs or trauma, as itself a lie.

There’s a reason why the Pines family cracked open this book and laughed at Bill, calling him a fractured, pathetic mess.

The Book of Bill has a plot, a great plot, and great character writing. It’s a crazy companion to Journal 3, Ford’s story. Parallel stories, but where one ends with someone healing from their trauma, coming to terms with one’s mistakes and accepting the need for human love and relationships, the other ends with one stuck forever in their layers and layers of denial, never acknowledging their own trauma, never acknowledging their need for human companionship, grasping in desperate need at their continued facade of hating to love and loving to hurt.

Bill isn’t an always-in-control sly master of the mind, he’s a delusional and desperate man, fractured by his own trauma, who will continue to hurt others to prove that he’s in control. I’m tired of the false narrative that abusers can’t have trauma, aren’t people, giving them this otherworldly status above all humanity. Aside from not being narratively or societally productive, it undermines the ending and message of the book. Acknowledging Bill’s brokenness gives his victims POWER over him. The fact that Bill needs Ford, but Ford doesn’t need Bill is powerful. Them laughing at his desperation is powerful. Looking at someone who once seemed untouchable to you and realizing they’re just a suffering meat sack like any other human being is powerful.

The ending of The Book of Bill is the demystification of Bill. The book is a real look into his mind, telling a story that’s actually very tragic. It’s a very real story, a cautionary tale. You’re not being manipulated or tricked if you feel bad, it’s a very intentional writing decision that this ending elicits that dark pity, as he desperately fades away (arts and crafts materials confiscated) saying that he’s FINE.

So yeah, The Book of Bill and the website are a masterwork of the character, I love them, they’re incredible, and I don’t want to see such a tight character story discredited as “you can’t believe ANY of it!”

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[avocado-writing]

Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻

The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.

You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you. 

It is not one of your boys. 

“Hey, baby.”

He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears. 

“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not. 

“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”

His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns. 

“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist. 

“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading. 

The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway. 

“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”

“I told you I’m not interested!”

He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from. 

“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”

“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right. 

The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.

“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”

He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety. 

“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates. 

“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve. 

“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”

“One sec.”

Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.

“You wanna apologise?”

The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.

“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”

They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod. 

“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”

“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”

“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”

“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand. 

Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both.