#which I can manage to do. like not much else but I can get by fine

[ultramaga]

Rich doesn't mean much. I'll give an example. If a middle class Westerner travels, they find they are considered a target in most places, because - compared to the people elsewhere - they are rich. Growing up, I had relatives that had computers, that would get a decent stereo system, that had caviar a few times a year and they would travel overseas on holidays. That seemed insanely wealthy to me. They travelled to Beverly Hills at one stage, just to look around, only to be picked up by the police immediately. Why? Because compared to the locals, they looked poor.

I think it was Rupert Murdoch who was in a lift with a billionaire who was boasting about gambling while they were in Las Vegas. Murdoch offered to wager a billion dollars on something. The other man declined. A billionaire is wealthy but is nothing compared to the people who are at the top. And even then it could be argued that there are higher elites, since there are men and women who can order the billionaires of their country to give them their property and assets and kneel on the chopping board. Xi, in China, is an absolute dictator not seen since Mao. If he wants anything you have, it is his.

I don't know if there's any level of wealth where you don't worry. Rich people can and are embezzled or just robbed, to the point of poverty. And you can become a prime candidate for kidnapping. I knew a woman who had been rich all her life, but lost everything because an accountant her family had always trusted had quietly moved everything overseas, then disappeared, leaving them destitute.

And one thing that was near universal with lottery winners was that after a year or so, they had nothing to show for it, or were actually worse off. Sudden wealth means disaster if you don't know how to manage not only money, but the sudden pressure from relatives etc to spend it on them. One thing they noticed in Australia was that the old Housing Commision here was a failure for aboriginals. Why? Because the indigenous culture was communist. So as soon as you had anything, it was someone else's, and they would come over and trash your stuff. Aboriginals just wrecked all the free housing they were given because they didn't value any of it, and the few who tried to climb out of the crab bucket were pulled back down. The government has moved since to more providing rent assistance, which is horrible for the disabled because it is quite legal for real estates to discriminate against them, and they are inclined to because disability covers people with severe mental illness, or drug addictions, where they will trash whatever accomodation they are in, or steal from their neighbours, or even burn down the place trying to make meth. So how much is wealthy? A million in assets? That barely gets you a house in Sydney. A billion? Great - but you can be wiped out by illness or divorces. In fact, divorce seems to be the likely fate for any male, meaning they become poorer, meaning they have less assets, less chance of finding a new mate ...

And then you can be arrested and imprisoned because the judge doesn't care what you do earn, they care what you hypothetically might earn according the judge's estimations, and they don't care if their beliefs don't match the reality. If the judge thinks your wife deserves twenty million a year for pedicures, but you can only earn ten, ten million dollars is poverty.

Oliver Warbucks: STILL, I’VE BEEN RICH AND POOR, AND A POOR MAN SURE HAS A LOT LESS TO WORRY ABOUT- Annie: YEAH- AND A LOT LESS TO EAT, SOME TIMES- I’D RATHER WORRY ‘BOUT A FEW MILLIONS I HAD THAN ‘BOUT HOW TO GET TWO BITS-

[seasprincess]

Yapping

gf!reader x early seasons!Spencer ☆

In which your nerdy boyfriend won’t just stop talking. So you make him….

warnings: MDNI, sub!Spencer, handjob (m receiving), whiny Spencer, he’s a bit pathetic x

wc:811

♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

After working for the past couple days on a hard case that took a lot out of you and the rest of the team. It’s a tough time sometimes. Wearing all of you out.

Apart from one genius who just won’t be quiet now that you two are home alone.

“A vast majority of unsubs have that MO.” He says before getting cut off by you placing your lips back on his. You’re sitting on his lap trying to just make out with him. And of course he’s speaking at a million miles per minute. Nothing out of the ordinary of course.

“They usually aren’t driven by-“ He’s cut off again, lips reconnecting making a sound that makes your cheeks flush. Why is he still talking? Sometimes this man cannot take a hint.

Your hands come up to his cheeks as you try pull him closer in the kiss but as soon as your lips leave his he’s back at it again.

“-The killing. They’re more interested in-“

Another kiss. Hand on his shirt pulling his chest towards yours, feeling him against you is just what you needed right now.

“They’re more interested in the body parts. So psychologically the-“ His voice goes up in a squeak at the end of his sentence when he feels your hand on his crotch.

“For the love of god Spencer. Please shut up.” You say as you close your eyes. Taking a breath. “I love you and your rambles but right now I need something else.”

Spencer freezes at your words and touch. His mind which was once preoccupied is now completely on you and only you. He takes a shaky breath as he suddenly snaps into reality.

You’re sitting on his lap, chest to chest kissing him. And what’s he doing? Rambling about a case that’s now solved.

He has a real life beautiful girl sitting on his lap and he’s being a nerd and yapping.

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” He says softly, voice catching in his throat. Finally understanding what you are wanting.

Yes you and him have done stuff before but every time he still acts like an innocent virgin boy who's never touched a woman.

“Good. Thank you.” You say as your lips reconnect with his. Moving slow and passionate against his. Just the way he likes, it makes him a mess.

As your tongue enters his mouth he lets out a little whine. He’s turning to puff in your hands by just a simple kiss. It’s pathetic. He knows it’s pathetic. But he knows you like that.

“Please.” He whines out against your lips as his hand finally touches you. Gently, not fully touching you. Too scared to do anything.

“Please what?” You say as your thumbs stroke his cheeks, smiling down at him before placing a kiss to his head. The poor boy beneath you is practically shaking beneath you with nerves and excitement.

“Touch me.” He manages to breathe out.

You don’t need to be told twice, hand darting to his pants zipper.

Spencer can feel your fingers working over the material that covers his cock. It twitches as he lets out another whine. The man has an IQ of 187 but when he’s with you, you’d never guess.

Your hands slip into his pants, palming him through his boxers with a smile on your face. You love making him feel good. Even if you’re not getting anything. Cause the noises and the way he is is enough for you.

“P-please.” He moans out all needy and worked up for you.

You kiss him again. He kisses you back with more strength this time. Showing you just how needy he is.

Your hands pull his pants and boxers down, him lifting his hips up to help you.

His cock is already leaking and aching for your touch. For any sense of relief as it’s all too much for the doctor.

Your hands wrap around his length before gently stroking up and down.

Spencer breaks the kiss as he moans. Looking down at your hand working on him. The sight makes his stomach tighten.

His head falls back against the couch as he grips the pillows, knuckles turning white as he breathes heavily.

“Oh-oh-“ He moans out again as you look up at him, kissing his lips again.

The noises that Spencer keeps making are drowned out in your mouth. And all you can do is smile.

Your hand speeds up and his brain malfunctions. The pleasure he’s feeling of your hand on his cock mixed with you kissing him is enough to put him in a coma.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-“ He says quickly, the words leaving his mouth followed by a moan.

You just keep going. His cock twitching in your grip before he releases.

You simply just place another kiss on his lips as you smile.

a/n: not proof read. need him x

[jo-harrington]

Antiquing v. Thrifting (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: You have a little booth at the local antique market and the owner of the neighboring booth tends to get on your nerves.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Slight enemies to lovers, meet cute, misunderstandings, fluff, banter

Note: This is a late birthday gift to one of my fandom loves who has become an amazing friend IRL too. @bettyfrommars. Betty thank you for being one of my weirdo soulmates, loving old gameshows, wishing we could live in a mid century modern house with all of the original fun appliances. You are one of my favorite people and since I can't send you my bowling ball (one day) I've written this for you. Love you.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

--

There was not much to drive you to want to murder someone. In fact, you would say that you were probably one of the most easygoing people you knew. And you knew plenty of people.

But the person at the receiving end of your ire, and the target of your bloodlust, was one of the most inconsiderate assholes you knew.

Actually, you didn’t even know who it was.

You’d been one of the vendors at The Little Traveler's Antique Market for years. You had a booth along the back wall, acquired when you realized your love of vintage Pyrex was getting a little too overzealous for your shoebox-cum-condo. Besides, the thrill of the hunt was the real thing that you enjoyed: estate sales and rummage sales and thrift stores were filled with treasures just waiting for you to find.

So a few shelves of Gooseberry and Butterprint went up, and eventually it turned into a haven for all sorts of vintage pieces. It was a shrine to your whims, rather than any real desire to find monetary value. Of course, people seemed to flock to it, so the cash you made from it was nice..but that was neither here nor there.

It was something you were good at, and something you loved. You'd met some very interesting people--and some of your closest friends--because of it. Heard the best stories.

Unfortunately, you'd also met some of the most insufferable people because of it too. Or rather, in this case, one insufferable person you pointedly had not met.

It had started when a bunch of Royal Doulton character mugs showed up in your space. And they weren't terrible, but they just weren't yours. Your hand-picked selection of Hazel Atlas glasses had been carelessly shoved to the side on a vintage mahogany sideboard you'd painstakingly hauled in, and in their place were Paddy and Toby and George Fucking Washington, all staring goofily up at you.

Ok, so maybe the Anne Boleyn one wasn't bad.

It was the principle of it. There were unspoken rules in an Antique Market. You just didn't encroach on someone else's space.

You painted the kindest smile you could manage--which, in all honesty, probably looked more like you were baring your teeth--and headed up to the front to confront the manager of the market.

"Margie," you began with a saccharine tone. You set the Anne Boelyn mug down on the counter. "May I kindly ask who Seller 86 is?"

"Oh, that's our new guy," she laughed, oblivious. "Ed. Great guy. He's got some fun stuff."

"Yeah, real fun."

"We did a little shuffle over the weekend," she continued, diving into one of her rambling midwest-isms. "Jim wanted to downsize, which opened a bigger space for Michelle to move into. One thing led to another, and I put Ed in Chelle's old space, next to yours. Hope you don't mind."

What could you say except a cordial of course not? Even as you were left to grumble and mope back to your booth to move all of the Royal Doulton back to Ed's new space. You set them out on a folding table he had in the corner, very nice and neat, which was your standard.

You might have also left a little, tiny, friendly, scathing note.

No big deal.

And you wouldn't lie, you snooped a little.

Come on, everyone else would, too. It was just...shopping. Not snooping.

You couldn't judge the wild array of things he had for sale; much like you, it seemed that everything in Ed's booth was suited to his tastes, because there was just a vibe of "who in their right mind would put some of this shit together." Little taxidermy animals playing poker, postcards from the most random places, vintage beer and coffee cans that, though empty, looked as new as the day they were bought. Garfield and Snoopy memorabilia. And mugs...so many mugs, as far as the eye could see.

It was charming, you could admit that, as long as it all stayed on his side of the vaguely-defined boundary between your booths.

Unfortunately, it did not.

It was never anything major but it was enough to annoy you. Books left out on a table, vinyl records in a crate in a corner, gaudy biker costume jewelry thrown in one of your mixing bowls. Each time you went to restock your booth, you'd have to find whatever treasures he left behind and return them, along with another note.

It was like finding the secret little corner where your cat pissed because they were mad at you. Admittedly, this might've been worse because you were proud. So very proud of your booth. It was a snapshot of you, after all. But that was sullied by little pieces of Ed, a guy you didn't even know, who seemed to enjoy pissing strangers off.

Every week, he metaphorically photobombed your snapshot at the last second and your perfect polaroid had bunny ears.

Or a crude gesture.

Or sometimes even his whole, bare ass.

And you were simply not vindictive enough to do anything about it.

It just wasn't worth the trouble to actually return the favor to him, or better yet, get him kicked from the market altogether. What if his little booth was his livelihood? What if this was how he made ends meet? Your pride wasn't worth ruining something for someone else.

Yes. You were a pushover.

You, surprisingly, got a reprieve for a few weeks.

Each time you'd gone to restock your booth with fun new treasures, there were no hidden trinkets waiting for you. Actually, Ed's booth didn't even look like it had been restocked or touched at all. There were holes in his displays where his wares had been purchased but not replenished. Was he on vacation? Maybe he was under the weather.

You took it upon yourself to spend a few minutes shuffling his mugs like a good neighbor would.

It was a disappointment relief.

Why wouldn't it be a relief? It wasn't like you'd started looking forward to what and where you'd find Ed's little surprises. It wasn't the thrill you'd get when the adrenaline spiked with your anger.

No, not at all.

"What's got you so pouty?" Margie asked as you trudged through the doors about three weeks after Ed's initial disappearance. "Did Dunkin get your coffee wrong again? That's how I know my morning is gonna be shitty."

"Must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed," you gave a weak excuse and headed towards your booth.

You were juggling an armful of tote bags and your coat, so you didn't notice the stranger standing in your space as you approached, until they turned around and spotted you.

"Oh, hey, lemme help you with that," came the rasp of a friendly voice as you rounded the corner. You looked up, surprised, as a set of hands hoisted the heaviest of your tote bags from your grasp.

He was like a relic, frozen in time. In a good way, though, like a well-kept polaroid from the 80s. Faded band tee, bootcut blue jeans, leather jacket that looked butter-soft from eons of wear. His hair was on the longer side and tied back; salt-and-pepper streaks proudly confirmed his personal antique status, along with the crows feet surrounding his deep, warm brown eyes.

He was a gentleman...and he was cute.

You felt like an idiot as your eyes slid down to his left hand on instinct. But there was no ring, so that self-loathing feeling disappeared. Well, no wedding ring, actually. He had a gunmetal band on his pointer finger, and a silver signet ring on his pinky.

Time returned to its appropriate speed as he hauled the tote onto your folding table just a few feet away.

"Jesus, what've you got in here? Bricks?" he laughed. "Are you trying to put Home Depot out of business?"

"Uh..." You floundered for words. "P-pewter tea pots. One of my regulars is getting married. Asked me to keep an eye out for them for her centerpieces."

"Never seen that at a wedding before."

"How many weddings have you been to?" You questioned.

"Well, my buddy Gareth alone has gotten married 3 times." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against your sideboard. "So I think I've got a pretty good chance that I've seen it all.

"Is there anything I can help you find today?" you asked, laying your best customer service voice on thickly. You busied yourself with unpacking your bags so you wouldn't have to look at the charming, crooked smile that settled on his mouth. "Was there anything that caught your eye before my hopeless self stumbled over here?"

"Ah," he pushed off the sideboard and tilted his head up so he could scratch along the length of his neck. "I, uh, was looking at your cookie jars, actually."

"Oh yeah?" You looked up at that and glanced over to the hutch in the corner that held an array of Pillsbury doughboys in various, charming poses. "Can I tell you a secret? I used to hate watching commercials with Poppin' Fresh. That claymation was frightening. I think he's pretty cute now, though."

You abandoned your unpacking and approached the hutch to try and figure which cookie jar he'd been intrigued by. You picked up a jar that had its lid askew and were about to ask if he wanted you to bring it up to the counter for him, when you lifted the lid and looked inside.

And found a rubber-banded stack of Metallica cassettes carefully nestled inside.

You felt your face get hot as you stared at the track listing and colorful cover art of Ride the Lightning. Coincidentally the same album that was on this newcomer's t-shirt.

"So," you huffed and slammed the lid on the cookie jar, careless of any damage it might cause. "You're Ed, huh?"

He chuckled behind you, "Eddie, actually. I prefer to go by Eddie. But yeah, that's me." You pivoted on your heel and glared at him; he faltered under your burning gaze. "Nice to, uh, meet you. Neighbor."

And with that, you let him have it.

You might've blacked out at some point during the absolute barrage of a verbal dressing down you gave him. How dare he not respect the etiquette of the market and stay within the confines of his allotted space, how dare he waste your time week after week as simply minded your own business and sold your trinkets, and how dare he ignore every single note that you left behind.

The fucker had the audacity to look amused with every word that fell from your lips.

In the end, you stood there, huffing and puffing as you caught your breath and felt several months of anger finally extinguish.

"You done there, killer?" Eddie asked with a smirk. "You feel better?"

"Yeah," you shouted one last time, then lowered your voice. "Yes I do."

"Alright, good." He nodded. "Gotta get it out sometimes, otherwise you might get an ulcer. Or develop alcoholism."

"Might be close to both, to be honest," you muttered.

"Shit, then I'm extra, extra sorry that I put you through all of that, sweetheart." He laid a hand over his heart. "This is my first rodeo selling in a place like this, I didn't realize that everyone was so...territorial."

"Yeah, well. Most of the time I'm not." Lies. You were a liar. "I think the thing that pissed me off more is that I kept leaving notes for you and you kept ignoring them and messing with my shit."

Eddie looked bashful all of a sudden. "Oh shit. See I thought you were just flirting with me."

Talk about a record-scratch moment; what...what had he just said?

"Flirting?" you asked.

"I mean, yeah, not to sound cocky either because I was definitely flirting right back at you. What do they call it in the movies? A...meet cute moment? I thought it was fun. You leave me a sarcastic, threatening note, and I leave you a little treasure hunt to solve. Like a...fucked up version of You've Got Mail."

"That's nothing like You've Got Mail," you pointed out.

There was a beat.

"I think this is a really good time to mention that I fell asleep halfway through You've Got Mail," he explained with a laugh. "Regardless, I read things wrong. That's on me. But I'm sorry. I'll never do it again."

He held his hand out to you and his brows shifted upwards and behind his dated bangs.

You worried at your bottom lip for a moment and tried to claw at the vestiges of your anger for a second, but this guy...he looked like such a kicked puppy...and you suppose that it was a cute way to flirt with someone you'd never met.

God, you really needed to work on that pushover thing.

"It's alright," you told him as you slid your hand into his and accepted his apology. "As long as you don't do it again."

"Cross my heart," he nodded enthusiastically.

You introduced yourself, formally, and offered your help in the future if he needed it. He introduced himself and told you that he would appreciate any pointers that you had to give.

"I'm pretty new to this whole...thrift thing," he shrugged. "I've had a bunch of this stuff in storage for a while. I used to move around a lot, you accumulate a lot of junk. And then my uncle...some of this stuff is his. Was his. He passed away last year. Finally decided I couldn't keep hoarding it all anymore. Turns out, I had a lot more shit than I thought I did."

"Story of my life," you laughed and offered your condolences. "It's hard, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of."

"Tell me about it."

"But, I do have one main lesson for you," you offered.

"Oh yeah?" he smirked. "Already? Just when I thought I couldn't fuck it up any more."

"It's an Antique Market," you told him. "Not a Thrift Store."

"There's a difference?" Eddie asked sarcastically, although a blush bloomed on his cheeks. "Guess the learning curve is much steeper than I thought."

"It's alright. You'll get it sooner or later." You smiled at him, trying to be as friendly and supportive as you could.

He stared at you for maybe a few seconds too long, then shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked forwards on his heels.

"Maybe you could explain it to me, in-depth?" he questioned. "Antiquing, thrifting, whatever."

"Of course," you agreed, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

"Over lunch?" He asked with a nervous smile. "There's a great diner up the road. And I figure I owe you one for all the anguish I put you through anyway."

You stared at him in shock for a second, wondering how to respond. First there was the comment about the flirting...and now this. What if he was a creep? But he didn't seem like as much of a jackass as you thought he was...and he was cute.

Oh, what the hell.

"You know what? Why not? I'm a girl who loves a free patty melt," you winked at him bravely. "It's a date!"

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Klee asking Jean and Eula's S/O when they're to give her a little sister

(Dark Knight and Belmont S/O, respectively)

This request was made in December 4th of 2022...I swear I'm good at answering asks guys.

Jean had S/O accompany her for an outing outside the cities of Mondstadt.

Given S/O's status as a vigilante, they were rarely seen around any heavily populated town, let alone with the Knights of Favonius.

Despite all that happened, Jean still loved S/O, and knew they were fighting for everyone just as hard as she was.

And even within the Knights, many understood that too. And for better or worse, Klee did.

In fact, this outing involved Klee, mostly just to let her "go on a secret mission for Jean". In reality, Klee needed to have some fun, lest she'd get into trouble due to the lack of explosions.

And so, Klee was having fun, skipping around while Jean watched, S/O still clad in their black armor and helmet, the red visor blocking out their face. As per usual, they said nothing in order to "protect their identity", though at this point it was just habit.

(Klee) "Master Jean?"

Jean and S/O turned to Klee, both of them sitting on a nearby log, their hands quietly intertwined with one another.

(Jean) "Klee? What is it?"

(Klee) "Are you and S/O going to have someone else I can play with?"

(Jean) "..."

S/O's helmet silently turned towards Jean, their absence of words speaking volumes, with the Acting Grandmaster being able to see her rising blush in the reflection of their visor.

Jean awkwardly cleared her throat.

(Jean) "Um...Do you mean, bring other children? Because this is official knight business.-"

S/O crossed their arms silently, tilting their head at Jean.

(Jean) "D-Don't look at me like that!"

Klee shook her head in response to Jean's question.

(Klee) "Lisa said that I would get a little sister soon from you and S/O!...But I don't know where Mom is so she can do that-"

(Jean) "Klee!...Let's go cook some lunch, okay?"

(Klee) "Oh! Okay!"

Klee walked off happily, leaving S/O and Jean alone.

To that, S/O took off their helmet to speak, their face just as red as Jean's.

(S/O) "Lisa sure has a sick sense of humor..."

(Jean) "Ugh, at least it wasn't Kaeya."

A brief an awkward silence hung in the air, neither of them sure on how to approach the subject of kids.

Though the silence was broken with S/O laughing, Jean quickly following along letting their hands hold each other once more.

(S/O) "Well, when we're not on a super secret mission of babysitting Klee...We should talk about it."

Jean playfully rolled her eyes before standing up, offering a hand to S/O gently, though the blush didn't leave either of them.

(Jean) "...Perhaps one day, S/O."

Eula was assigned to protect Klee as she went out to gather materials, though she wasn't dumb. It was just an excuse for Eula to take it easy, which after the last few weeks of reconnaissance, it wasn't entirely unwelcome.

It did help that Eula found Klee quite adorable, and Klee enjoyed Eula's presence.

Though, S/O had managed to find an excuse to join her, in spite of their whining.

(S/O) "So, the Knights have become a glorified babysitters now, have they?"

(Eula) "You know, since you're not part of the knights, nothing is exactly requiring you to stay."

Her tone was playful, much to the misery of S/O.

(S/O) "Perhaps this shit is the kind of curse people inflicted on us."

Eula chuckled, watching as Klee excitedly grabbed a lizard.

(Eula) "For the Lawrence and Belmont to breathe easy, enjoying the presence of one another?"

S/O rolled their eyes, leaning back into the tree as they adjusted the chain whip at their side.

(S/O) "If you wanna look at it that way sure."

(Eula) "You're just grumpy because Klee doesn't like you."

S/O scoffed.

(S/O) "Of course they don't. I'm a monster hunter."

(Eula) "And terrible with children."

(S/O) "Shut up already."

(Klee) "Miss Eula!"

Klee ran over to Eula, catching both of the outcasts' attention.

(Eula) "Hm? What is it, Klee?"

Eula knelt down to meet Klee at eye level, with her smiling before looking at S/O with a frown.

(Klee) "Kaeya said that I'd be having a little sister soon!"

(Eula) "Oh, is that right?"

Eula did her best to keep her tone the same, though she raised an eyebrow at Klee's frown, the answer to which came in her reply.

(Klee) "But Kaeya said S/O was going to be their dad, but they're super mean to you!"

Eula struggled to keep herself from bursting into laughter, especially hearing S/O choke at what Klee had said.

(S/O) "THAT RAT-BASTARD SAID WHAT?!"

(Klee) "The Knights of Favonius says using bad words is...bad!"

Eula pat Klee's head, giving a smug grin to S/O.

(Eula) "Right, and Kaeya is right! You are rather rude to me-"

(S/O) "Ooooh, you little!-"

S/O cut themselves off seeing Klee pout, making them sigh.

(S/O) "You got your materials, yeah? Let's go ahead and get back home before the sun sets."

Klee made a little "hmph!" noise, walking past S/O.

(Klee) "Klee will make sure her little sister is nice!"

S/O's eyes twitched as Eula joined their side, grin still present.

(S/O) "You're rather calm about the prospect of giving Alice's spawn a sibling-"

Eula flicked S/O's forehead.

(Eula) "One. Don't call Klee that. Two. It's funny to see you like this, so it helps me power through."

(S/O) "Tch, next time she's yours to handle alone."

(Eula) "Is that your idea of vengeance, S/O?"

S/O cursed under their breath, all the while Eula's smile remained.

...Maybe once her clan was gone, she'd give the consideration more thought, but not now.

Next thing she'd have to do though was come up with a name that'd make S/O cringe violently at. Maybe something like 'Treffy'.

[runesinthenight]

One of the important things to consider is that everyone is an expert in their own field but knows nothong about others. There is always something someone else knows that you don't. When I took a collections management class, there were things I knew more about than my professor because I was a geologist and their background was art. I'm not saying my professor didn't know what they were talking about, because they were very knowledgeable about collections management, just that they had more experience with art collections than natural history collections.

Most art or history museums only really have to worry about marble, granite, or gemstones in their collections which are stable at normal museum conditions. Typically, the main concern is to make sure gravity or getting jostled doesn't damage them because hardly anything else in the collection will. But that's not true for all rocks and geological collections may comtain rocks which are unstable or potentially hazardous to your health. Rocks like gypsum can start degrading in too dry of climates. Marcasite has a tendency to degrade over time. Pyrite disease can destroy specimens if it's too humid. Some specimens can be slowly disolved if there's too much moisture in the air. Some rocks are radioactive or asbestos and will try to give you cancer.

What I'm trying to say is that everyone has something they know a lot more about than the average person. For me that's rocks. For someone else that may be hairstyles. For another person it could be leatherworking or paper making techniques. No one knows everything. It's literally impossible. So it's important to know when you don’t know someone and to ask people who do. Sure you can, and should, do your own research, but you need a sparting point. Someone who's never done leatherworking isn't going to think to research leather burnishers because they don't know they exist. It's important to ask people when you're stumped because you never know who might be just the right expert to ask.

Something I find incredibly cool is that they’ve found neandertal bone tools made from polished rib bones, and they couldn’t figure out what they were for for the life of them. 

Until, of course, they showed it to a traditional leatherworker and she took one look at it and said “Oh yeah sure that’s a leather burnisher, you use it to close the pores of leather and work oil into the hide to make it waterproof. Mine looks just the same.” 

“Wait you’re still using the exact same fucking thing 50,000 years later???”

“Well, yeah. We’ve tried other things. Metal scratches up and damages the hide. Wood splinters and wears out. Bone lasts forever and gives the best polish. There are new, cheaper plastic ones, but they crack and break after a couple years. A bone polisher is nearly indestructible, and only gets better with age. The more you use a bone polisher the better it works.”

It’s just. 

50,000 years. 50,000. And over that huge arc of time, we’ve been quietly using the exact same thing, unchanged, because we simply haven’t found anything better to do the job. 

[shatcey]

Victor theories. Contradictions and links

This is probably the last part of my theories about Vivi before his route came out. Most likely, they have nothing to do with reality, which we will see pretty soon. I will kill someone if Cybird release someone from Vogel first. Do you hear that, Cybird? I'll buy tamagotchi and kill it!!!!! You don't want that, do you? Poor defenseless little creature…

When I read other theories and events about Vivi, I had some thoughts, but I haven't finished them, haven't put them together, and… I think it's finally time to do it properly.

I should probably add warnings. I'm mentioning the details of Alfons and Harrison's routes. And also provide fragments of events that had not yet been in the EN game (only in JP). And… a bit about Azel's route (but I'm warning you about this, and you can easily skip to the next part without reading).

There were many events with Vivi. I made a list when started preparing for this post… Not all of them contain anything that I can use within the described boundaries, but they all provide few or many hints. So… it took some time to check. I hope I didn't miss anything.

If so… remind me, and I'll make one more "last post"… it becomes an endless story.

His personality

@maladaptivedaydreamsx assumed that Victor isn't his real name, but was given to him because of Queen. I thought about that as well. As I mentioned here, Victor thinks of himself in quotation marks, as if it's not his real name, but a role he's playing. And that actually sounds pretty fitting. On the surface, he's a cheerful and positive, with a sweet, mama-type vibe. But when we read the stories from his perspective, he feels completely different. Very dark and even scary. His thoughts show how much he notices and thinks before making any decisions, how much of a calculating bastard he really is (lovingly). But is his cheerful side a role he's playing? Or is it just part of his personality? From the Bond story "The Other Side"

and kiss event...

Victor insists that this is just a part of him. And I'm inclined to believe.

There is a theory that Victor is actually immortal. @.reccyls mentioned this here last time. And this theory is possible. Not only because Victor is so determined to treat all the members of Crown and Kate like children. But also because of this Willy's remark from the 1st Victor's birthday

There are two possibilities that Willy could be hinting at.

The first… Vivi is a god. The God of death.

But… this may have a different meaning. Vivi is very closed to God or any other immortal being. Vivi often talks about death as a living creature. Perhaps the fact that he is a "constant companion of death" makes him a kind of expert in this matter.

And that's why I tend to think that the second option is closer to the truth. It's from the very beginning of the same 1st birthday.

Yes, Harry often says that Victor lies a lot, but I don't think that applies to this situation. The wording is very strange. He doesn't seem happy about this fact. Like… "I wish I had more time". Maybe it's just me.

Oh, I forgot about another option. Vivi could have been a god, but now he's a human. This explains why he's so annoyed by the fact that he needs to sleep. Hmmm… I like that option.

If assumed he's a very old and powerful being… who, despite this, has not lost interest in life as such and can still find joy in it (reminds of someone, right?). How did the Queen manage to get him as her aid? A contract? We have another Black butler?

And if everyone thinks of him as a very strong person, then no one will ever assume that he needs anything. No one ever considers him human. This thought crossed my mind when I talked about the Mirror event, but I decided not to voice it. But… what the hell… this is the last post, where else should I talk about it?

It was the same with Azel (if you haven't read his route and don't want spoilers, skip right to the next point). People didn't see him as a human being, they only asked for help, advice, and so on… In their eyes, he was only giving, after all, he is God. But… this is a rather selfish way of thinking. Even if a person seems completely independent and strong, and… perfect… this doesn't mean that he has nothing to wish. I can easily imagine Vivi in this concept. And that explains why he was so surprised when Kate said she liked helping him or taking care of him. This has never happened before.

But he doesn't have to be an immortal being for people to consider him inhuman. He succeeds in everything he does, and people may think that he doesn't need anyone's help.

His contradictions

Kate described him very accurately at a Drunk event, translated by @.reccyls.

I would also add that he takes care of the garden and himself (see how his hair is… it's a lot of work, you know) and it looks like he's sleeping normally. My baby Ally has dark circles under her eyes due to lack of sleep. But Vivi… there is no such thing. So… Yes, he really seems like the perfect person.

But behind every great accomplishment is a lot of hard work. We don't know what it is… he just has a habit of using every second of his life to the fullest, or… a kind of magic. But he really does a lot, and… I can understand why he wants to… relax sometimes. He can't admit it for some reason (pride or some restrictions) but he wants to anyway. And at the same Drunken event, he tricked Kate into putting his head in her lap and hugging her. As if he needed a reason for that. It feels like he's constantly preventing himself from doing what he wants to do. At the very end of Butler's event ("Your Hand, My Lady" translated by @.reccyls) Willy hints at this...

He's happy because Victor is FINALLY doing what he wants to do.

I got the impression that curse of the boys is a sick joke of fate. It is contrary to their true nature. Like a absolutely honest and straightforward Harrison have to lie because his curse forces him to do so. Or Ally, who wanted only one thing in life... to be remembered, and the curse did not allow him to got this. So I see the same contradiction in Victor's behavior… is his curse. He is literally obsessed with the idea of freedom. And the way he lives makes it seem like he's not free at all. And his desire to get something for himself sometimes is like getting some fresh air before he finds himself back in the dusty tunnels… He literally doesn't do ANYTHING for himself, he doesn't even ask others for anything. This is from the 2nd Cristmas event, translated by @.reccyls.

And this is from bond's story "About Freedom"

Despite the fact, he joked afterwards that he is as free as the wind. In this phrase, he said "I", not "you" or "people" in general. I'm sorry, Vivi, but I don't believe you're free. In fact, you've probably never been. That's why you dream about it. And it's a little sad.

Connections with the Queen

The bond between Vivi and the Queen is very strong and mysterious. He is absolutely devoted to her and literally does everything she says. But how long has he been doing this? Why does he feel like he belongs to her? As he told William at the very end of Butler event ("Your Hand, My Lady" translated by @.reccyls.

The first thing that comes to mind is the Black Butler. Sebas demonstrates absolute dedication without asking questions. And he is a demon who is devoted to man. Actually Vivi said at the first Christmas event (Wreck the halls) that he had made a deal with death…

Perhaps it has something to do with the Queen. I'm not saying that the Queen is the Death (we never know for sure), but the way he's devoted to her, and the way he convinced that the connection with death is not so easy to break, seems somehow similar. Indestructible.

@.velisle has posted a really huge post with facts and theories about Vivi… I added my thoughts here. There was a theory… That's the kid Victor talked about at the Secrets event…

...In fact, he is.

But there are two things that prevent me from thinking that way. The first… he doesn't know if the Queen could make them smiles. If he was that kid, he would know that.

And the second. If we assume that he is not a vampire or another magical creature that lives exceptionally long (or endless), then it is quite difficult to imagine. The calculation is simple. The game takes place around 1890. And the queen begins to rule in 1837. More than 50 years have passed since. And Victor looks like he's 40 at the most. So… He's NOT that kid, but… it could have been his parent or… an older sibling. Or… even someone related to Kate. I wouldn't be surprised if the developers link them so tightly.

@rou-luxe assumed that Victor made a promise to the Queen many years ago and continue fulfill it. It seems very correct, but at the same time not quite. No matter how much you like sticking to your promise, at some point you will feel tired or pressured to keep it. But here… he does it willingly, even with joy. So my idea… he is very grateful to the Queen. As if she had saved his life or given him a new life that he wouldn't have been able to get otherwise. This brings me back to my previous thought. That the Queen is not really human. But she is… at least the real Queen Victoria, who lived and died (which makes her a normal person). If it's just gratitude, then what exactly did she do for him to get him for a lifetime? This is… THE question!

Connections with Crown boys

We know that Vivi and Willy immediately clicked on the common desire to free people. The way we were shown Vivi's cursed ability (as I mentioned in a previous theory post) is somewhat similar to Willy's. I'll just add this part from the 1st birthday story.

We will not talk about that this is technically impossible to strangle yourself. Don't try to prove me wrong, check on Google.

The fact remains… Vivi orders the man to die or Death to take him away. But for some reason, his victim feels happy to follow this order.

It doesn't matter how, but the cursed ability of both of them (Victor and William) deprive a person of freedom. So… no wonder they understand each other so well, they literally went through the same struggles.

I don't think Vivi is particularly kind to Harry just because of his reaction (which is always so good). But also because he feels a little guilty about the death of Harry's father. He did not predict, did not find out, did not fix the problem in time. Yes, Vivi claims that he is not a kind, but rather an evil person, but he is a good teammate, he respects and helps all his partners. And he and Marco had a good team… From a distance, completely ignoring each other… but in the end, they really help each other a lot. So Vivi may feel guilty for missing something.

I didn't notice any special treatment for anyone else at the Crown. Well… Kate is an exception. But I would like to talk about her separately.

Connections with Kate

First the facts. Victor dragged Kate to the Crown because he thought it would help the boys. From his 1st birthday.

He said (will say) the same thing in the 1st anniversary (my summary). He thought she would change something. What does he think needs to be changed? He used a rather interesting phrase in 1st birthday...

Usually, when he said something like that, it's "succumb to your wickedness". Vivi often say that when he sends the boys to work. Did he assume that Kate would help them become better at their work? Is it related to work at all? Maybe about their course? Maybe it's about understanding themselves better? Or… about something completely different? But I tend to think he was looking for a way to combine them together.

They're all pretty strong and independent, they don't have much in common, they literally split into several groups, and he wanted to find a reason to unite them into one team. It's a very noble cause. He would probably reject such an idea as not fitting his wicked nature. Why do my favorite boys try to argue with me when I say good things about them? They're so weird.

But there's something he doesn't want her to know. Again from the 1st birthday...

It feels like he's afraid. It feels like he's been through something and doesn't want to make the same mistake again. Or he's constantly fighting… probably with his own curse… which forces him to do something to her (remember that his curse contradicts his essence). Vivi says something about it at the 1st Christmas event. This darkness demands that he stains her and whisks her away (I wrote about it here).

But his expectations of Kate really came true. She really brought change. And she even changed him. This is from his 2nd birthday story translated by @.reccyls.

It already looks like we're in the middle of his route. He feels that he is becoming less like an observer, he feels that he wants more for himself.

And now my assumptions, which, in fact, are based on nothing at all

The only thing we can be sure about is a kiss on the forehead. It was mentioned twice (I talked about it at the kiss event). The fact that Kate mentioned it twice means that developers are most likely to use it on one of the main routes. It could be Darius or someone we don't know about yet, but I think… that it's Victor. And it's not just his reaction to that kiss that makes me think so. But the DARK IF event.

I know it's an alternate world, but… the essence of the characters is the same, and it's quite interesting to imagine his main route through the prism of this event. Vivi's story hasn't been released yet, but in the second part of the event, there was a story for 95k points, and it's gorgeous. Translated by @.reccyls.

And this part is from a letter from this event. Not quite, but let's put it this way. Translated by @.reccyls.

The one and only. The soulmates. Actually, this theme is very strong at this event, and maybe I shouldn't even focus on it. But… for some reason, this concept seems very fitting for Vivi. The Vivi we know from Victorian London. And I really like to see this theme on at least one route in this game. Why not on Victor's, right?

So… my theory… Victor and Kate met when Kate was still a child. We haven't determined whether Victor is human or not, so I won't talk about him, but Kate was a child and witnessed something very bad. Something that could easily break the psyche for life. Victor solved the problem and kissed her on the forehead… and that's literally the only thing she remembers. It was probably just a short meeting, but for some reason they both remembered it. And now… after all these years, they meet again because they are destined to be together… I got goosebumps.

I think we should expect a second Tamamo route. With the "I want to be your friend so you won't be alone". They will work together, but this time she will help him with his work, and someone from his past will appear. Don't tell me he was a king as well… Thatever. And… so the hot scene will only be after the last avatar challenge (or even only in the epilogues).

Dark times are ahead... Patience to all of us.

@ethereal-blossom, Michelle, dear, I haven't found how to use your theories… my brain is burning up a bit after two days of thinking. But I'd like you to look at it. Maybe you could point out my mistakes or would like to add something. You know I'm always happy to read your thoughts.

The design of the spikelet on the dividers I took from Designed by Freepik

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��� 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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[elis-corner]

gerard way transed my gender

this is essentially just one big ramble about how music as a whole shapes how i experience myself and the world (but with a focus on mcr and gerard)

Addressing the "title", I guess he simultaneously did, and did not, and did the opposite of such. I was well aware of my gender identity before I became an MCR fan (in fact, I discovered them because of hearing "Mama" in the background of trans TikToks), but I've found that, despite this, their music shapes how I view my identity.

Music holds something extremely unique; it has the power to convey things auditorily, through sounds, through volume, through pitch, through tone. They can be things you simply can't put into words that become something you feel on such a deep level and connect with so strongly.

Music has better helped me understand my gender by giving me another sense to describe it with. While I love and relate to MCR as a whole, there are certain sounds, certain songs, that describe my identity in a way that no words or writing could ever explain. They paint a beautiful picture that nothing else could.

When I hear music, I feel things within myself. I see art and colours and shapes in my mind. There is something so intrinsically human about music. I don't study music theory, or label what genres I like, because I feel like music can't be broken down and categorised, and that so directly translates to the wild mess that is gender. You can't use something tangible to describe something that is not, but two things that you have no way to explain? Those can correlate and explain each other so beautifully.

There's also something about the way that musicians manage to capture something visual with their music. I think a lot of people would understand when I say that Danger Days sounds like pop art, that Hesitant Alien sounds like chromatic aberration, that The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars takes me back to an era in which I wasn't even close to existing, that songs off The Normal Album like "2econd 2ight 2eer" sound like spirographs and kaleidoscopes, that "Joyriding" sounds exactly how the numbness of my depressive episodes feel.

Music is essentially a xenogender to me, but with something auditory that my brain then turns into something visual.

As I'm writing this, I'm realising this sounds like I have synaesthesia, but I'm not diagnosed so I can't really speak on that. I'm not diagnosed with anything, actually. Maybe I should be. Who knows. My psychologist kinda sucks. Anyway.

So obviously, there's the music itself. But there's also the people behind it.

There's something that so indescribably describes my experience of gender through aesthetics and presentation. There is something I can connect with on such a deep level when I see Will Wood, Bowie, members of MCR or Queen. In layman's terms it's gender envy, but if you ponder on it, it's something so much deeper. What makes me look at an ensemble, a colour scheme, a single accessory, or even a person, that makes me feel like I'm looking into myself and seeing who I want to be?

And then, there's how their ability to express themselves impacts your understanding of yourself. Here's where the focus on Gerard starts.

I'm simply queer, but to explain myself better I say I'm nonbinary and transmasc. Note how I don't align with binary gender, in a world that mandates it. I was very feminine when I was younger, and when I accepted that I was trans I was so desperate to feel more masculine that I denied everything feminine about myself. Now, I'm kind of just letting myself exist. And it all started with Gerard.

Picture this. It's 2023, and over the past year you've been getting into a band. You've enjoyed the music, but never really ventured into the fandom or learning more about the people behind the music. When you do, you not only discover that the band you thought was broken up is not only back together, but that they performed in your city just a few months before. So, you look up photos and videos of the concert.

That band is My Chemical Romance, and at that concert their frontman was in a skirt and heels. This intrigues you, so you look into the band more.

The Secretary. Cheerard. Party Poison. Hell, even Catgirl Gerard.

That was me, what feels like insanely long ago. I fell in love with the band fully, not just for their music and their messaging, but for the people---the members and the fans. I stumbled upon a group of people rejecting society and being themselves. And I learnt that, fuck presentation, I'm still me.

Seeing MCR as Killjoys, seeing Gerard during the reunion tour... it all had such an impact on me. I can wear skirts and makeup and things that make me feel feminine---the antithesis of what I am in so many ways---and still feel like I'm being true to myself. Music is what unlocked those doors for me.

When I heard Hesitant Alien for the first time, I saw myself in it in a way I hadn't seen myself in music since I discovered Bowie. There was something so dreamy, so hallucinogenic, so out of this world, that described me so perfectly. That I could hear the music, see the visuals, look inside myself, and go, "yeah, that's me".

MCR has helped me embrace more than just femininity, though. I hated having curly hair, but Ray showed me I could love it. I was raised to be against unnatural altering of one's appearance, but Frank's piercings and tattoos showed me what an art form it can be. The "gender" of clothing was so tied to my ability to see myself as masculine, until Gerard showed me I could just be myself and have fun with my appearance, and that I didn't need labels or to restrict myself. I felt like femininity and masculinity could never coexist, until I saw Mikey rocking a balance of the two.

Music is so intrinsically human, describing us in ways that words never could. And I think that's beautiful.

[rosenclaws]

stage manager logan x actress reader headcanons

Aight so I wanna write a full fic but I already have my other 2 little series and I can’t add a third or none of them will ever get done lmao so i’ll settle for headcanons for rn

Anyways

~ Logan is NOT a theater guy but at the time he was working for a construction company renovating the local theater and they were still rehearsing while they were finishing construction

~ But he finds out that they’re trying to shut down the damn theater company because some rich asshole wants to buy it and make it completely private. The problem is that the theater group just doesn’t have enough people on the crew to even get the show going.

~ Logan sees the heartbroken faces of these kids and he sighs. Knowing he can’t just let them fail. So he signs up to help.

~ It’s mostly set work which he can do just fine and without pay. The show goes off without a hitch and Logan finds himself helping out the next show and the next until eventually they just hire the man. At one point he becomes stage manager after their current one leaves and Logan does not wanna do it.

~ Turns out he’s a natural. I mean he makes people listen and they don’t ignore his orders when he talks in his gruff angry voice.

~ One day he’s there for auditions and that’s where he sees you for the first time. You’re a fresh face and very nervous but you absolutely kill your auditions. Like he doesn't write a single thing down because he's just so enchanted by your voice.

~ Of course Mr. Grumpy refuses to admit he has a crush. I mean anyone can see he's clearly smitten with you. I mean he's much nicer to you than anyone else, never yelling at you when he corrects you even if its the 10th time.

~ He cracks a few jokes and Jubilee and Rogue swear they've seen him smile on multiple occasions. A rare sight for Logan. You're equally as smitten with the buff and hot stage manager. I mean he yells and he can get people in line with the snap of his fingers but you see how the younger kids just love him and how much he truly cares.

~ Okay but the drama comes when you get cast as the lead and some other guy (Maybe Viktor 👀) is the romantic lead and he has to watch the two of you kiss in rehearsal and this guy flirt with you endlessly. Logan wants to punch his stupid flirty face. He feels a little better when he realizes that its just a stage kiss. But he does get grumpier and its very noticeable.

~ Now picture this. Opening night and the leading man is no where to be found so Logan has to step in at the last second. He's nervous as hell and he's fully convinced he's going to ruin it for everyone but with a small pep talk from you he just relaxes.

~ During the big kiss scene well, he doesn't go for the stage kiss. He goes for the real thing and lets just say you both forget for a moment that you're even on stage.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Finally, a universe of unlikeliest drinking buddies: Stanley and Bill! (💸<-this was an emoji that my phone board recommended; couldn't leave it out)

Funnily enough, this the closest they can get to the actual therapy as of now.

Bonus points if they do accidentally become something like genuine friends. Considering Stan's definition of a friendly acquaintance seems to be "If they don't try to kill you (too seriously) and don't chase you away actively you're pals", this might actually work.

ALSO. Ford, if you managed to get these two on friendly enough terms just to complain about you, you are so so so so screwed. Please revalue your life choices!! ...Might be a version of Ford Axolotl would consider giving an offer for Space-Time Therapy, especially if his meddling eventually seriously hurts Stan (well, seriously enough he actually registers it).

Also potentially Bill seeing even MORE parallels between himself and Ford (and maybe Stan as well), but the ones that are no longer fun and hit way too close to home. Imagine if he just got so done with everything he felt and thought about it and Was Not Going To Acknowledge that he just. Called Weirdmageddon off. Because he's no longer in the partying mood!! You're ruining the vibes, Pines!! (<-which one? yes)

They only drink to complain about Ford, then started complaining about everything else. Stan's just happy to drink, but Bills unsettled about how similar they are. The longer it goes on the more Stan considers it an almost friendship, while this is now Bills secret shame, drinking with knock off Ford in his rooms where no one can see him. Stan's like his emotional support pet now, and he uses him to complain about everything with. Stan doesn't care about this arrangement, because he was already a pet, he's getting drunk, and Bill never pretended he was anything else.

This Ford def qualifies for spacetime therapy after what he did to his own dimension and all his soul meddling. Not to mention what might happen to Stan if he keeps rearranging his soul like he has been.

Bills never going to admit to being wrong, ever, and Fords actually fun whenever he's not worrying about his brother, so half the time. And stans pathetic struggles are amusing to him, regaedless of how much they have in common. So no Bill redemption here! Society continues to be collapsed!

I imagine he does start spreading further into the dimension, leaving earth to Ford to finish up. This dimension doesn't get a happy end unfortunately.

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Bargain Price

The Professionals is a crossover of In the Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez In which Tommy learns the price of trying to bargain. (Follow up to Allowances) CW: Long term captivity, violent whumper, many graphic threats, beating, biting, bchoking

Fletcher let Tommy stew for a bit before they came to find him. They enjoyed their dinner and took a moment to decide what they were going to do to him. 

When they opened the door to his room, it was empty.

Or – mostly empty. Fletcher was good at scanning rooms, and it only took them a moment to spot a bit of a pale foot under the bed. They stepped lightly in and crouched, snagging his ankle and dragging him out.

Tommy yelped as he was wrenched from his hiding spot, immediately putting his hands up in a weak attempt to shield himself. Any vestiges of bravado he had managed earlier were long gone now. Fletcher looked down at him as he cowered at their boots.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Fletcher – Fletcher,” his voice broke. “I’m s-so sorry, I don’t know what I was– I never should have– I can–” Tommy hiccuped out a sob and covered his face with his hands.

Fletcher put a finger to their lips and waited for Tommy to quiet down.

“If you want to act like a child and throw a tantrum, then I’m canceling your playdate.” 

Fletcher pulled their phone from their pocket and opened up Buck’s contact.

“Wait! Wait no, no nononono Fletcher, wait, please!” Tommy scrambled up onto his knees, clinging to Fletcher’s thigh frantically. 

Fletcher held the phone up above their head to keep it out of Tommy’s reach.

“What? You want something worse than being grounded?”

“Please, please, anything else, I’ll – I’ll pay for the wall, and – and you can hurt me, please please just don’t call him!”

“Oh ho, buddy, you are absolutely paying for the wall,” Fletcher sneered. “Do you know how long that’s going to take you to pay off? You can forget about buying anything any time soon.”

It took a moment, but then seemed to fully dawn on Tommy how much it would cost him. Fletcher could see him trying to do the math in his head, the dread on his face as it really sank in. Five dollars a week couldn’t get much, and months would stack up fast.

“I…” He gulped, his eyes watering. “I know, I know, I’ll do it, but please don’t take Buck away.”

Fletcher eyed Tommy for a moment.

“You said I could hurt you? What do you want me to do to you instead? What do you think is enough to make up for it?”

“Well, yes, I mean…..um…” Tommy’s eyes darted nervously around the room, as if he would find something that might help him. He wet his lips. 

“You could…you could…beat me...”

“I could beat you and still send Buck away,” Fletcher retorted. “I can beat you for stuttering when you talk to me. I could beat you for anything, whenever I want. If you want me to change my mind, you have to come up with something enticing.”

Tommy blinked away tears. “You can… you can use a knife?” He offered tentatively.

“Yeah?” Fletcher asked mockingly. “I can use a knife? Can I take off patches of your skin with it? Can I wedge the point under your fingernails?”

Tommy’s jaw moved, but no words came out.

“Can I chop off a finger?” Fletcher continued. “One of your ears? Can I stick it in your eye? Can I open up your fucking veins? Is that okay with you?!”

Their words grew more aggressive and they grabbed the front of Tommy’s shirt.

“I… I…” Tommy stammered.

“What, you don’t want that? Well, can I do something else? What about your bones, Thunderbird, am I allowed to break those? Can I knock out your teeth? Can I hold your head under water? Can I break out the car battery and the jumper cables? Can I burn the bottoms of your feet so you have to crawl? Can I wrap my hands around your throat and tighten them until you stop moving and your last thought before you pass out is that you hope to fucking god I let go before you die? Huh? Can I do any of those fucking things to you?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Fletcher slapped Tommy hard across the face, swinging it to the side.

“Wise the fuck up, kid,” Fletcher snapped. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. Maybe it worked for you before where you bat your fucking eyelashes and get on your knees and you get out of whatever you had coming, but I don’t give a shit about any of that. You take what I give you.”

“Yes, Fletcher, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy cried, words coming out barely above a whisper. His teary eyes tracked the movement of the phone in their hand. “I’ll take whatever you give me. Can you please hang up now?”

It took Fletcher a second to process. They looked at their phone and saw the seconds ticking up, timing the phone call.

“Oh shit,” they muttered. They put the phone to their ear. “Buck, you there?”

No answer. Must be a voicemail.

Fletcher ended the call. They hesitated a moment, then punched Tommy hard in the chest.

Tommy made a breathy grunt as the wind was knocked out of him. He dropped to the floor, curled up on his side, and tried a few frightening times to draw a breath before one actually came.

“Don’t punch my fucking wall,” Fletcher growled, standing up. “We aren’t finished with this conversation.”

Fletcher stepped forwards over Tommy and planted their boot down firmly on the side of his face, pinning his head to the floor. He was already trembling with fear, struggling to catch his breath. They called Buck again, putting it on speaker and letting the automatic voicemail answer message play.

“Hey, didn’t mean to call you the first time. Hit the button accidentally. But, look, I am canceling your next visit because Tommy is grounded. I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

Tommy whimpered pitifully on the ground, but didn’t protest.

Fletcher ended the call and sent Buck a text.

Ignore the first voicemail.

“Alright, get up,” Fletcher instructed, stepping off of Tommy. He shakily got to his feet. “Follow me.”

Tommy slinked along after Fletcher, but hung back when Fletcher opened the basement door. His chest tightened. 

“After you.”

Fletcher gestured down the dark stairwell. As much as Tommy didn’t want to go down there, it didn’t seem like a good time to disobey. 

You’ve been in the basement before, he told himself as he forced his feet down each step. You were fine.

But Fletcher wasn’t mad at you then.

Tommy hesitated at the bottom of the stairs as Fletcher pulled the string on the overhead lights. They stood in the empty part of the basement. Nothing but a cement floor with a drain. They gestured for Tommy to join them.

Tommy’s heart was racing. He didn’t feel like he was piloting his body as it approached Fletcher. Instinctively, he began to lower himself to the floor when Fletcher cut him off.

“Don’t get on your fucking knees unless I tell you,” they growled.

“S-Sorry,” Tommy said, quickly straightening up. 

“You wanna fight me?”

Tommy was so taken aback he was sure he heard them wrong. His brain was making things up again. 

“What - sorry - what did you say?”

“I said,” Fletcher stepped closer, invading Tommy’s space. “Do you want to fight me?”

“N-No, no, Fletcher, of course I-”

“You wanted to hit me earlier,” Fletcher asserted. “You hit the wall instead. Isn’t that right? It wasn’t the wall you were angry at.”

Tommy shrank back. “I was just… I didn’t…”

“Well, I’m giving you the opportunity,” Fletcher said. “I’ll even let you start.”

Tommy was wide eyed and frozen like a deer in headlights. Fletcher waited, staring him down with a cold gaze.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Tommy said in a small voice.

Fletcher shoved Tommy in the chest with both hands, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Let me reframe this,” they said, pacing after him. “You can stand there and take a beating, or you can fight back. I am giving you a chance to fight back. Clearly it’s something you need to get out of your system, so you don’t go punching holes in my walls.”

They reached out and grabbed Tommy by the face, squeezing in his cheeks. With a sharp smile they said, “Aren’t I so fucking nice?”

They let go and gave Tommy a slap, but not nearly as hard as they had earlier.

“C’mon. You were a street punk. You never learned how to fight?”

“Fletcher, I don’t…” Tommy put up his hands. “Please, I don’t want to do this!”

Fletcher easily reached through his defense to grab Tommy by the front of his shirt, and punched him across the face.

“You want to stand there and get hit like you always do?” They snapped. “Don’t you want to hit back for once in your miserable life?”

Tommy’s head was swimming. Pain bloomed across his jaw from the strike. His fear and anger rose in his gut, but he felt paralyzed to defend himself. The product of years of grueling training to never resist, to never fight back. Now he had a chance, and he was terrified. When he saw Fletcher raise their fist again, he threw up his arms to guard his face. 

Fletcher’s knuckles collided with the bones of Tommy’s thin arms. He managed to keep his defenses up, so Fletcher went low and drove their fist into his stomach. When Tommy doubled over, dropping his arms to his abdomen, Fletcher smacked him across the face.

“Fucking do something,” they snarled. “This isn’t over until you fight back.”

Something in Tommy snapped. 

He lunged at Fletcher, hand flying out to take a swipe at their face, his fingers curled into claws.

Fletcher managed to block the attack, grabbing his arm and pushing it away. Tommy immediately countered with his other hand, yanking his arm free to make mad swipes and rain fists down wherever he could.

Fletcher parried a strike and shot a fist out at Tommy’s stomach again. He folded slightly but was being carried by the adrenaline, flinging himself back at Fletcher. 

Fletcher blocked his first arm, but the second managed to slip through. Tommy’s nails clawed across Fletcher’s cheek and eyelid. 

Fletcher hissed and shoved Tommy back. He charged forward, head down, colliding with Fletcher like he was trying to tackle them. Fletcher had to brace their feet but remained upright easily. They even let out a small laugh before driving their elbow down into his back. 

Tommy jerked and grunted at the impact but didn’t let go. He tried to strike with his knees and kick at the inside of Fletcher’s legs. Fletcher took the opportunity to pull him off his balance, throwing him to the floor.

Tommy held fast to Fletcher’s shirt, pulling them down with him.

Fletcher could feel their own balance start to go and aimed their fall to land with their knee on Tommy’s stomach. He let out an oof but didn’t stop. Instead he reached up and snagged a fistful of Fletcher’s hair.

In the old days, Fletcher had kept their head buzzed for this reason. Having it used against them now gave them an instinctive jolt of panic, as well as anger. 

If Tommy wanted to go low - scratching, grappling, hair pulling - Fletcher would meet him there. They landed their hand on his face and dug their thumb into his eye socket.

Tommy let out a groan through gritted teeth and twisted his face away to shake off the hand, then back to sink his teeth into it. All without loosening his grip on Fletcher’s hair.

Fletcher let out a roar of pain and tore their hand away. 

Enough fucking around.

They drove their fist down hard into the center of Tommy’s face. They could feel his nose crunch beneath their knuckles.

Tommy relinquished his grip, both hands moving toward his face, but Fletcher caught his arm and bit back, clamping their jaw down on his forearm.

Tommy yelled out in pain. His face was painted red from the blood pouring out his nose like Fletcher had struck oil. He was no longer struggling, just trying to curl in defensively once more.

Fletcher released and stood up. They leaned down and hauled Tommy up by the front of his shirt, putting him in a sitting position.

Tommy was breathing heavily through his mouth, head hanging low, blood running freely down his chin and dripping into his lap. Fletcher took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head up to look at them. Tommy braced for impact.

“Feel better?” Fletcher asked scornfully.

“No,” Tommy said, voice muddled by a clogged nose. Blood sprayed off his lips when he spoke.

“Was it worth it?”

“No,” Tommy groaned. With his nose broken, he had to pant for air through his mouth, blood tingeing his teeth red. Fletcher’s other hand went to his collar, gripping it tight in their fist so it pulled against his throat. Tommy’s hands fluttered around their forearm, wanting to pull them off but unable to muster the strength. He’d already lost - no need to keep digging deeper. 

“Did we learn something?” Fletcher asked, tugging sharply on the collar while keeping him in place with their fist his hair. 

“Y-yes Fletcher, please don’t hit me anymore, I’m sorry,” Tommy pleaded. His voice was congested, and blood was starting to spread through the fabric of his shirt as it streamed down off his face. 

Fletcher cocked their head to the side, considering him. Tommy took the respite to wheeze, struggling not to cough up the blood filling his mouth into Fletcher’s face. 

“Your place is right here, under my boot. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Fletcher.” 

They shook his head by their fist in his hair and he whimpered, clenching his eyes closed against the pain hammering inside his head. 

“Should I be merciful?” Fletcher asked, their voice low. Tommy cracked an eye open, trying to tell if they were asking, or just talking to themselves. They looked pissed, but alive, excited. 

Beg, Tommy, beg for it, a voice urged him. It spoke in Caius’s voice, so close he could feel his breath against his ear. 

“P-please, please Fletcher, you’ve let me - let me live here and I forgot to be grateful, I’m so grateful, please, please don’t hurt me anymore, don’t let me – don’t let me lose the mercy you’ve shown, please, I know my place, please, please don’t kill me, I’ll be good!” Tommy hiccuped, sobs breaking through as the last of his adrenaline rush abandoned him.

Fletcher let him beg, leaning back to take in the full picture. They finally relinquished their fist in his hair to stroke his face with an unexpected softness. Tommy twitched weakly, waiting for more punishment. Instead, the hand wiped his tears, then dropped away. Fletcher placed a boot on Tommy’s leg, holding him in place. With their other hand, they lifted the collar.

The leather dug into Tommy’s throat, digging under his chin and pressing against his windpipe.  It was hard to draw in any breath, and his shallow gasps punctuated the thick silence between them.

They played with him like that for a bit, letting go just when the world started to grey out, returning as soon as he managed a gulp of air. When they finally let go, Tommy was dazed, his eyes unfocused. Fletcher relented and stepped off of him. When they released their grip on the collar holding him up, Tommy drooped forward limply. 

“Forget your allowance until I think you’ve paid for the repair – which you’ll be doing, and doing right. No play dates until you learn some self control. And if I hear a single word about it, I’ll make what I’ve done to you today feel like a vacation. You understand me?”

It took him a moment to process their words, but then Tommy gave a shaky nod. Fletcher leaned in and patted his cheek. 

“Good answer.”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[carmenized-onions]

It’s been a little while since you’ve posted on here so I hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself!!! 💖

my darling loves, I'm so sorry

I'VE BEEN SO EMBARRASSED. I HAVEN'T WANTED TO SHOW MY FACE AROUND THIS TOWN BECAUSE I'VE GOT NOTHING TO SHOW FOR MYSELF AFTER TAKING SUCH A LONG TIME AWAY FROM YOU ALL.

I've been. violently busy. in a good way, mostly. One of my jobs is the best job in the world and the other one is such a bitch it makes me scream every day forever.

but i'm also spending time with friends and enjoying life !

My mom also finished her last chemo appointment just a few weeks ago!!! YIPEEE!!!! Her CT Scans look GOOD!! so no chemo for the foreseeable future. She's unfortunately got the type of cancer that doesn't go away, but at the very least, it's MANAGEABLE. And that's a huge win. I'm very very grateful.

I ALSO FOUND A THERAPIST!!! gone to 2 sessions so far. every session she uncovers a new fucked up facet of me and honestly, can anyone else relate to this, it's sort of nice for someone else to look at your life and go like "oh wow. oh wow there's like. there's like so much here." like it feels good to think oh hurray. i'm not crazy. life IS fucked!

MY BROTHER MOVED!!! this took up a lot of my time, honestly. i love him and my nephew and my sister in law dearly. so i spent a long time making their gifts. i'm silly.

OUR CAT GOT SICK!!! HE'S GOT PEE CRYSTALS CAUSE HE'S OLD!!!!! HE'S DOING OKAY NOW THOUGH!! HIS STUPID URINARY FOOD IS SO EXPENSIVE THOUGH!!!

ANYWAYS. those are my major life updates right. So what's with the no chapter happening??

i. hated. the draft i'm working on so much. that i didn't work on it for like. a month.

and then in a haze. i left myself this voice to text note in my notes app as i was falling asleep one night.

then i hated that too. a week passes. perhaps two, actually.

i finally gain the courage one night to read my draft over.

it's actually not bad at all

it's actually pretty good

some scenes definitely need reworking but that's because i need to fully realize some character feelings

I just had really intense writers' block and fatigue, honestly. But i'm finally writing and EXCITED about it, again. I'm pulling that shit up on my commute and writing whenever i can. which makes me really happy. i was not loving the way it felt like a chore, for a minute there.

that said.

100% going to be more realistic with this chapter waiting timeline, and put a 'hiatus' or some sort of 'delays' tracker on my landing page. cause like. i keep saying check back in 2 weeks. and that's not fair to me or you girl. let's keep it real.

i think we're like.... hm... 50-60% there. (i'll update my landing the day after this post, it's late and i'm eepy)

i MIGHT write some blurbs in the mean time, it really depends. i keep having ideas and then they blink out of existence. perhaps send ideas. i might do something with them.

BUT YES I AM OKAY AND ALIVE. My silence came from a LOT of life stuff getting in the way and also a lot of honestly embarrassment. i hate coming out here over and over and being like haha. i've got nothing <3

but i know that y'all will understand, and i need to trust in y'all's patience more. and i'm GONNA!!!

gonna try to start up my 'answering one ask a day' trend again. except wednesdays. i work late on wednesdays so fuck that. but perhaps all the other days you'll hear from me.

alright. i'm going to shut up now. was any of this coherent? i don't know. thank you for listening!! i missed you dearly!!

[2-shots2-thehead]

- I try to picture me without you but I can’t -

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Summary : Basement Gerard era loser x reader headcanons bc I love that little creature

Pairing : Basement!Gerard Way (MCR) x GN!Reader (use of Y/n)

Warnings : Mentions of physical affection, slight angst if you squint ?

A/N : Sorry for not filling requests ring now !! I have a bunch in drafts but I’ve been feeling really burnt out and can kinda only manage headcanons like this- My illness (??) is getting worse now

- asdjkfjdjdhvsifnwnek

- i love him so much

- you guys met through mikey

- i mean, how else would you? this man never leaves his room (which is just his mother’s basement)

- the first time you came over to mikey’s house, he gave you a ‘grand tour’ of sorts, which included the basement

- gerard wasn’t home that day, but you took note of every interesting, quirky thing about his room

- Star Wars bedsheets, comics everywhere, action figures on little display shelves, and a few expensive-looking Lego sets

- you met gerard the next time you visited, but didn’t talk nearly as much as you wanted him to

- but that’s just because he was nervous

- it’s like that meme- he fell first, and harder

- so rightly, when you were over at his house, it was nerve wracking

- eventually he confessed..accidentally

- less of a confession, more..snooping

- you, mikey, and gerard were hanging out in the basement but he ended up leaving his diary open on the nightstand

- you didn’t mean to read it, of course, but..you couldn’t help yourself

- “they’re honestly amazing. everything about them holds a kind of beauty i’d never witnessed before them. y/n l/n. the one i unfortunately fell for, and have absolutely no chance with”

- after a very long discussion, excluding mikey, you guys started dating

- you have to reassure him a lot because he will kind of never not be convinced you could do way better than him ☹️

- can you blame him, though ? (i love hyping up my readers so much)

- you guys sleep over at each other’s houses a lot

- which is perfectly fine ‘cause, no matter how worried he was, your mom loved him

- it’s not like you brought home some punk bad boy

- just a nerdy little guy who can’t go ten minutes without referencing one of his favorite comics, or a new video game he just played

- a lot of said sleepovers consist of pizza and a classic horror movie

- it was a cheap option, and it was fun !!

- you guys slept at the same house more often than not, but the pizza and horror films were a friday night routine

- whenever you do stay at his house, he’s a little embarrassed because of his room

- 1. it’s just kinda always a mess, no matter how much effort he puts into cleaning it

- 2. all his decorations are nerdy, and surely you would never go for someone like that, right ?

- wrong !!!

- one of those reassuring times where you need to explain that he’s your boyfriend because he’s himself, and you love every nerdy thing about him

- this man owns like…a billion sweatshirts

- so if the weather is even remotely chilly, you’re probably wearing one (let’s be honest, you just want an excuse to show it off)

- he always gets really excited when you wear his clothes

- it’s not so much a turn-on like you see in fics, he just gets really happy because it shows that you’re not embarrassed of him

- and it makes him feel like he’s being helpful, and he strives for that

- he’s not big on pda, but he loves hand/ finger holding

- when you’re not in public though..

- this man just constantly wants to do everything he can to show how much he loves you

- and a lot of that is just kisses

- his main love language is quality time, id say, but he’s also very big on physical affection in the confines of one of your guys’ homes

- he remembers just about every single thing you tell him about yourself

- he’s never forgetting your favorite color. i mean, it’s important information !!

- you guys take Polaroids together all the time

- ^^^ mostly just him taking pictures of you

- not an insecurity thing, he just loves finding any possible way to ‘capture that beauty’

- you guys never really go on fancy dates, cause you don’t need to

- you’re both content with your cuddly hangouts

- but, when you do go out, it’s something fun like an arcade or record shop

- COMIC. SHOP. DATES.

- he loves just walking around the store with you and pointing out certain comics while spewing off a billion random facts

- long story short, he takes every geek-out chance he gets

- because he’s learned by now that you don’t mind it and, in fact, encourage it

- many a stay-in day spent in bed with him ranting effortlessly for hours while you just nod and play with his hair

[squidsinashirt]

**Shoving my way through the tabloids and paparazzi**

Mr Tracy, the work you have done for the world's environmental charities is phenomenal, it's amazing that you're so passionate about not only our world's oceans but it's rainforests, it's grasslands and it's human life too.

At times it must be challenging trying to balance your work with humans and your passion for wildlife what with how humans have destroyed the worlds ecosystem.

Tell me, do you see a future with nature and the hustle and bustle of the human world working together in peace? How do you think we could achieve that?

– Nature&Nurture news blog reporter.🌿

Hi there! 👋

Apologies for the delay in replying to this - love your stuff, long time subscriber! Wanted to give you a decent reply so I hope this is okay.

That’s very kind of you to say but I can’t take all the credit. Tracy Industries is committed to all of the green pledges we have made, and our successes with various third party organisations and projects is only thanks to the enthusiastic effort of all of our board, trustees, senior management and of course, our CEO (who is incredibly supportive of all of our projects).

(I just send comms and put up posters and annoy people at the annual galas once they’ve had a drink or two)

Moving to being a zero-waste society has been a huge achievement, but we shouldn’t be stopping there. We’ve spent a lot of time ripping every resources from the planet and doing what we like without much concern for everything else that shares this space with us. We should be actively investing in restoration programmes that prioritise renewal over our own priorities, and vehemently protecting what is already there.

So do I see a future with nature and our very busy society coexisting - it has to! Nothing works if nature doesn’t. We came very close to the brink not so long ago, and we can’t allow that to happen again. We’re the custodians of our little planet, and it’s up to us, and us alone, to do better. Everything around us is relying that, as a population, we pick up that responsibility, including for our own kids and so on.

I had a really great afternoon recently organised with Robby Shelby (co-creator of the Supreme Barrier Reef with his mom, Dr Helen Shelby) with their junior conservation team. They’re all elementary school aged kids, learning to dive and also learning about the work that is ongoing there, why it matters and how to continue it. It’s amazing to see the next generation keen to take the reins - and I had an awesome time getting schooled on turtles and jellyfish.

How to achieve that - that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it. There’s a reason various world bodies have spent so long fighting over it and I guess it’s because it’s complicated, on paper and in practice.

I would say my own philosophy is that we ought to be leaving the world a better place than it was when we stepped into it. Everyone has an equal individual responsibility to do what they can. Food choices you make (hi fellow vegan gang 🌱), where you spend your money if you can, and educating other people. Treating the planet and everything that lives here kindly (including each other so, y’know, be excellent to each other!)

I guess I’m just very lucky that I can access resources that mean we can do a lot more.

For the bigger stuff, there are obviously the three main goals of the World Ecological Summit (not going to have time to go into the other 47 sub points):

1. Move to entirely emission free fuels and technology for all transport, which we’re making really good strides in, which is super exciting. As a bit of a side note, International Rescue has ⅖ of our ‘birds totally clean (see, nobody is perfect except Thunderbird Four). My aim over the next 12 months is to try and get to a point where we have a 95% sustainable fuel option ready to trial for each of them - currently sitting at 75% average, which is good but… we don’t do ‘good’ at iR, we do better. We use three different fuels because of the differing technologies each of our ships carries and the environments they work in so it’s a little more complicated. But that’s one of my pet projects (along with our incredible engineering department) so check in with me in the fall!

2. Our largest industrial leaders taking responsibility in being proactive, investing in green technologies and processes, and using their corporate responsibility for good. I think my previous answer about Tracy Industries kind of covers this one, but it’s important that those with the biggest weight to throw around do it in a way that benefits the most vulnerable in our society. Which leads nicely into point three…

3. Protecting the most vulnerable ecosystems, territories and people. It’s really easy to point the finger at humans for the environmental concerns we all share, but that’s completely unfair toward the most vulnerable populations amongst us, who are usually the ones who have had the most impact from what we’ve caused. We should be improving our environment, whilst also addressing the inequalities in food hunger, poverty, ill health, education that still exist. They aren’t necessarily two separate issues and we are an incredibly advanced society, - there’s no reason people should still be living with such huge levels of difference.

So I guess the summary of all of this is - people need to lift their head and care a bit more, and not be afraid to take on the responsibility of being better to environment and to each other.

Thanks again for the query - always happy to ramble to you guys! If you’d like to come along to the next visit to our rainforest project on the Bolivian border, we’re due to be out there early May and you’d be more than welcome! You can get me on g.tracy@tracyindustries.org 🫶🏻

[respectissexy]

I've been thinking and blogging about mental health for a while, and I wanted to re-share a condensed version of an old blog (that nobody read) about what it takes to have good mental health besides Medication And Therapy. Medication And Therapy, for those who need them, can put some guardrails around how BAD your mental health can get, but they probably won't get you all the way to GOOD mental health. Having a mental illness is like having a boot on your car; you need to take the boot off in order to drive it anywhere, but that isn't the ONLY thing you need to do.

Secondary caveat: generally speaking, in order to have good mental health, you need to have your basic needs met. If you are lacking sustenance, shelter, or safety, your proverbial car has no gas in it and you will not travel to the land of emotional well-being. The following practices might have some harm reduction effect, but they should be understood as such.

Based on my experience as a therapist and as a person who has been managing a serious mental illness for 20ish years, these are the practices that I’ve found have the strongest evidence base for promoting mental health and well-being.

1. A practice of tuning in to what’s going on with your body. Meditation and breathwork are classic ones; likewise yoga and stretching. Many kinds of physical exercise can fit this bill, but only if practiced mindfully and intentionally as such.

2. A practice of connecting deeply with another person or people. This can be a significant other, a tight-knit group of friends, a close relationship with a parent or child. Your level of connectedness to other people is one of the strongest possible predictors of good physical and mental health, so much so that joining a DnD group might reduce your likelihood of early mortality as much as successfully quitting smoking.

3. A practice of gaining mastery over a skill with repeated practice. MANY things fit this bill; most types of physical exercise, singing or dancing, playing an instrument; knitting, sewing, or other handicrafts; sculpting or pottery, learning a new language, cooking. Many people get this need met through video games, which isn’t bad, but if video games are the ONLY way you get this need met and you feel like your overall life satisfaction is lacking, and you can’t explain it with an obvious lack in one of these other categories, I would humbly recommend picking up something else in this area.

4. A practice of expressing yourself creatively. Writing, art, music, theater, standup comedy, playing story-driven tabletop RPGs, even doing elaborate makeup or putting together cool outfits can scratch this itch.

5. A practice of externalizing and processing your feelings. Therapy is what people often think of for this, but journaling, writing a song or poem about it, or having a good old fashioned bitch sesh with your bestie are also valid ways of meeting this need.

6. A practice of going the fuck outside. It feels unnecessary to elaborate on this too much; “touching grass” is a meme for a reason. There is no requirement to be rugged or outdoorsy, to get "off the grid," or to sacrifice any of our precious indoor amenities; a stroll in a public park or a few hours of sitting in your yard will make a difference.

7. A practice that provides you with a sense of positive purpose. In other words, what do you do that makes you feel like you made the world better in a concrete way? I get this need met by being in a helping profession; some people volunteer or organize; a lot of people derive their sense of purpose from parenting or some other kind of caretaking.

Obviously, a lot of these practices can overlap, and most “good for you” activities meet a few of these needs at once. Physical exercise can put you in touch with your body, give you the experience of mastering a skill over time, and (depending on what your preferred exercise is) get you outside or connect you with other people. Writing poetry can be a way to externalize your feelings, and a way to master a skill, and a way to express yourself creatively. Playing an RPG can be a creative outlet and a way of connecting with other people. Sex, when practiced correctly, puts you in touch with your body and connects you with another person. Gardening gets you the fuck outside and provides a concrete sense of having improved on something.

[opinated-user]

God I wanna vomit after reading "Don't Move". Call it Stockholm Version 3 cuz JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. And the comments are like "I read this in the bitch's (Courtney's) voice" and "Proud of you working thru ur trauma, CD" when no... The ONLY voice heard was Lily's. Yall are praising Lily for her fucking crime of molesting her sister and she is getting what she wants.

the fact that LO is pretending like "oh, this is an old file that i happened to find from when i was actively being molested" is actually hilarous because... 1. oh, so you can recuperate that from when you were a teenager, but you can't provide a single proof of anything seriously wrong that LIzzy has supposedly done? despite how much you have claimed she has been evil in every possible way? that is the only thing you manage to get back, but nothing else regarding all the other people you have accused of horrible crimes for years? interesting! 2. do you really want to advertise to everyone that the way that you were writing at 15 year old is exactly the same as your writing now in your 30s? is that something you feel happy to share with people? that in all of these years, your narrative voice has been stuck being the exact same all this time and you have never, ever, improved not even by chance? even if we assume that this was an acient text miraculously recuperated from the entrails of whatever device LO has... so what? seriously, what did you think writing that and publishing is accomplishing? it's not proof of anything. it's not evidence. furthermore, even though i understand that there is no right way to deal with trauma, i personally do not know many cases in which the one suffering the trauma decides to relives it through the perpetrator's POV. but then again, LO totally is the one with the totally real psychology degree (that doesn't even exist on her city) so maybe she's playing some 5D cheess psychological play in which she gets to imagine what her totally real rapist felt and thought about. but if you are on the camp of believing Courtney's allegations and think LO is the perpetrator, this would be around the fifth or sixth time that LO has confessed that she did something horrible as a kid and flaunting it for everyone to see. i hope you all archived that post, because i don't believe LO is going to leave it up for long. btw, as someone that has read shock content because their friends wouldn't stop sharing them around, i have to say... i have read worse, LO. once again, even when you set up to try to be "disturbing", all it comes out is a yawn. 2/10.

[jakedoxxenvasion]

sugary sweet

warning: MDNI!! smut with plot, creditor sylus! × debtor reader! manipulative sylus, reader is a virgin, dom sylus × sub reader, sadistic sylus, suggestive content! smut will in the next part ❤️

note: i actually wrote something similar for heeseung but i only release some sneak peek because i plan to make it a series but not sure when lol

UNEDITED!!

your head immediately snap up when you heard a loud walking footsteps echoing inside the almost dark, empty room.the silhouette of a tall guy approaching you in the dark until he stand before the only source of light in the room, which is on top of your head.

you're still tied up on the chair, it's been 10 hours? your body sweating like hell from staying in this basement room, there's no source of light from outside world, no fresh air and this room reek of the smell of something like.. metallic? like iron? you can't really describe it since you can't really see much in the dark corner of the room.

"done reflecting on yourself?"

his voice echoing, you look up at him and shot him a sharp glare. "fuck you."you spat and that only make him chuckle darkly, thinking you would actually give in is something that he don't really expect. he dragged you all the way down here with much struggle and he don't really expect you to listen to him actually.

"right here?"his finger brush over your jawline before he lift your chin to make you look straight into in eyes. "i also want to fuck you, kitten. but business first, right?"you want to bite his hand so bad right now and spit on his face but you know better not to provoke him too much. you don't know what else this guy can do to you.

you're not suppose to be here and it's not your fault too, "i told you i don't have that much money and.. how the fuck you can capture me but not that fucking asshole?!"your scream echoing around the room, the strain around your arms getting tighter now than you move around a lot.

"that asshole is your beloved brother, kitten.. one cannot say shit about family like that, that's not nice."you immediately rolled your eyes when you hear he said that. "your brother just decide to vanish into the thin air, if we manage to get him and make him pay his debt, i wouldn't go through the bullshit you put on me just to get you, sweetie."

he glance down at his bandage arm, a remnant of what you left behind when he tried to captured you yesterday. you bit his arm until it bleed but that was nothing compare to you, he really don't want to hurt you but due to what you did, he got shocked and accidentally pushed you over a table.

your head was knocked over the corner of the table which cause it to bleed too. "i'm sorry about this.."he start to kneeling infront of you, if it's not because of your bind legs, you would have kick him by now. but you watch as he pull out a handkerchief from his back pocket and grab a water bottle that was discard on the floor when you first got here.

"stay still."

the silver hair guy pour some water on the handkerchief before he lean closer to you, he start to dab it on your bruised forehead. "i know i could be an asshole but it was not my intention to hurt you."he muttered, he wipe off the dried blood on your skin that were trickled down your forehead before.

"then let me go, i promise you i will look for my brother and make him pay all your debt."a little negotiation wouldn't hurt, right? but he only chuckle to hear your little offer, his continue to tend to your bruise and when he's done cleaning it, he pull out a bandage from his pocket. "sylus, please?"his hand immediately stop midway.

it was weird when you call his name, the sound of your voice saying his name did something to him. "no."it was a short answer but you know it hold so much. "you're signed as his guarantor, until we find him you had no choice but to stay here and pay his debt."you let out a small wince when he press his finger a little hard on your forehead as he paste the bandage on it.

"i told you i didn't sign those paper! he fake my signature on it!"you raise your voice as defensive act, but sylus shake his head as he take a step back from you. "and i told you.. i don't have that much money to pay back, 1 million are not that easy to get."your voice only getting more and more little as you speak, you're started to get tired of this.

"then explain those thumb print?"

again you let out another groan, "i swear i never put any of my thumb print of any paper that he offered me before.. he set those things up, sylus."sylus sigh, he's done putting on the bandage over your forehead but he didn't back off from you and you know it very well, even if you can prove yourself that you're not the one who sign the document, there's actually nothing you can do.

it's all your brother fault, but you're the only family of his so it's not like you have any choice, right? "nevermind, this won't end actually.. but as you know,"sylus get up from kneeling in front of you and take a step back. then he look down at you, your tied up legs and hands then down at your body..

you're wearing white button up and a pair of black jeans and it's happened when he drag you out from your part time job, a cafe. "we can figure out how you're gonna pay.. but you know,"when a smirk appear on his lips and the way he look at you, it seems like you can read his mind. "you can pay with the other way too."

sylus chuckle, "pervert!"you yelled but sylus laugh echoing in the room louder. your face turn red and you had to look away from him. you really hope he's joking about it, and now you hate your brother even more. you swear if you ever see that asshole again, you need do something about it.

when sylus finally stop laughing, you rolled your eyes as you turn to look at him again. "ah right, i actually put your house on sale.. it was worth like 600k if i manage to sell it, so you need to pay 400k more."he suddenly said when those cross his mind, your eyes widen when he said those, your house?

your parents house, the same house that you've been living in for the rest of your life? "what?! are you crazy? why would you do that without asking my permission?!"oh you really hope you can hit him right now if it's not because of you being tied up. it's getting more and more frustrated now that you can't do anything but sit on that chair and listen to all the bullshit he said.

"crazy? no, kitten.. all the assets that was owned by your brother and you are under us now so we can do whatever we want with it and that's means you can pay off your debt with it. but that shabby house actually not that expensive, i doubt if it could even made into the market."sylus sound nonchalant yet it make your heart break.

"n-no not my house.. no! you can take everything i have but not that house!"your loud voice echoing in that room, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. "please please sylus.. i will pay you back but give me some times. please? anything, just anything, name it and i will give it to you."you're on the verge to tears but you try to compose it to yourself.

you know well you sound so pathetic right now, begging like you're the one who owe him that much money instead of your useless brother. "anything?"like something click on his head, a smirk immediately appear on his lips at the way you said those.. anything that he want. "you're sure about this?"

you immediately nod your head, you can get on your knees and beg for him if you need to. but sylus has a whole different things for you when you mentioned 'anything'..

"s-sylus wait.. ah!"

water splashing around as you try to break free from him but sylus is quick to tied your hands onto a metal beside you that was attached to the wall. "w-what are you doing?"you look at him with confusion on your face, sylus dragged you all the way up from the basement and now..

you find yourself sitting on a bathtub that was fill half with water, hands tied up again but this time he didn't tied your legs. "you said you can give me anything, kitten. so i'm gonna take it just as i please."sylus step into the bathtub, water start to splashing out onto to floor. he's now kneeling between your spread legs. "you're gonna give it to me right, kitten?"he put his finger under your chin and turn your face to look at him.

"g-give you what?"your voice shaky as you open your mouth to speak, you know just exactly what he want but you refuse to put it on the plate. sylus smirk, oh you hate those and you wish you could slap him everytime he smirk like that. "sylus.."you shake your head, biting down on your bottom lips as a small whimper escape your lips.

tears threaten to fall down again and when it finally did, when those tear drop soaked your cheeks, sylus find it amusing. just why seeing you break excite him? "but you promise, y/n."he wipe your tears with his thumb, he glance down at your body and a soft humming escape his lips in approval.

your white shirt now soaked up and he could clearly see your red bra peek out from the soak clothes. "how about we make a little deal, kitten?"sylus pull your chin up to make eye contact with him, "1000$ everytime you give me what i need, and i'm satisfies i will add another 200$ for tips. with that you can pay off your debt, isn't it?"

it sound promising, you can't lie.. "i can't.."you shake your head, but you don't want to stoop so low just to pay off your brother debt, right? "n-no.."tears rolled down your eyes again, but even in your blurry vision you can see a little disappointment on his handsome face.

"aww too bad, but i want you so bad now."he sigh, glancing down at your drench body. he could feel how his dick throb at the glimpse of your body through those soak shirt, it was too bad that red is his favorite colour too. "then how about 2000$? everytime we have sex, i will deduct 2000$."again you shake your head, a body even start to tremble in fear, the look on his face is intimidating than before.

"3000$?"

you frown but immediately you look away from him, he's being ridiculous, you think. "aww.. 4000$?"this time you slowly turn to look at his face but you didn't say anything. "then how about just one time? 5000$?"

"sylus stop!"

you don't care just how much money this guy have, but you don't think you can just give yourself away to him even it sound tempting for you. "just please.. i'm not some kind of toys you can just buy. p-please stop this."your lips tremble as you speak, tears continue to roll down your cheeks but that weirdly seeing you cry make sylus hard.

is this normal? he ask himself. your soft red cheeks stain with your own tears, your eyes started to get puffy from crying, your disheveled hair, your soaked body because of the water around you in that tub.. perfect, everything is perfect in his eyes. "why?"slowly his thumb wiping away your tears, he stroke your cheek softly like you're gonna break if he let go. "i thought you said you can give me anything but not to sell that damn house.."

his finger trail over your lips as his thumb make it over your lower lips, it's so soft. making him wonder how it's gonna feel like on his own lips. "what's so special about that shabby house? and what's so special about you? aren't paying off your brother's debt is your current priority now?"he continue to stare at your face, but weirdly you didn't protest like you did before but you look up at his face.

it's weird.. why it feel comforting to hear his voice talking to you like that? "just let me fuck you a few times and you can pay off your debt.. what's stopping you from giving in? your ego? your pride? or.."he smile before he pull your face closer to him until you could feel his hot breath on your face. "is it because you're a virgin?"

your eyes widen when he caught you, a small chuckle escape his lips when he caught your reaction to what he said. "so.. you're really a virgin?"he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, "awww that's making me want to fuck you more and more now y/n. what should i do?"he cooed, he even fake a small pouted as he rise his eyebrows at you.

"n-no.."

"ugh fine, 10000$. that's the last, but you know what y/n.."you gasp softly, shocked that his soft and gentle touch on you suddenly become rough. he grab your chin, "i fucking want you so bad right now, and i always get whatever i fucking want. so, 10000$? it wouldn't be that hard right? just let me fuck you for hundred times and you're free from the debt."

his grip around your chin only getting tighter and you whimper at how painful it is. so this is how he is? was all those gentle act only to lure you? "you p-promise?"your tremble voice make him smile again and slowly he let go of your chin. you're gonna regret all these later but you can't decline his offer right? who the fuck would pay you with that amount of money just to have sex?

surely you're a virgin but it's not like you have choices, right? unless.. sylus manage to find your brother. "yes sweetheart, i'm a man of words. for now, just let me fuck you and once we're done here i will prepare a proper contract, how's that sound?"his words is sugary sweet, with those deep but gentle voice you're sure many girls had fall for it.

and you will be one of them.. he's manipulative but you just haven't notice it yet, that just how sylus is. "okay sylus."you don't even know what else to say but you know your cheeks is red now. sylus wasting no time as he lean in and you immediately gasp in surprise when he nuzzle his nose around your neck. then you feel a wet thing on your neck, he lick your skin, trailing down on your collarbone.

"f-fuck.."he murmur on your skin, his hand wrap around waist and the other roaming around your body, over your soaked clothes. "i'm gonna be gentle, yeah?"you nod your head, he stop kissing you around and look up at your beautiful face. "from now on, this is mine. just let me do my things and you need to trust me, okay?"again you nod, your mouth shut sealed but your body still tremble from fear.

your checks immediately turn red than ever but still you didn't say anything. you stare into his crimson eyes and you watch as his eyes move from your eyes down to your lips then your body before it goes up to your lips again. "can i kiss you, y/n?"that's rich coming from the same guy who just threatened you to take you by force if you didn't give in earlier.

"y-yes."you breath out, seeing a small smile appear on his lips before he lean closer until your lips attached together. your eyes widen at the sudden contact but eventually you start to give in, closing your eyes as he you let him take you deeper into the dark.

sylus crimson eyes trailing down at your see through shirt before his hand make it over to unbutton it one by one. a small whimper can be heard from you when his cold hand touching your bare skin, your delicate skin come into view and all the button are off now. "hmm.."sylus kiss down your neck again until it reach over your cleavage, he stop to look up at your face. "i like it red, how do you know it's my favorite?"

you only smile at him, your cheeks blushing red again, how even react in situation like this? you're a virgin, inexperience and most importantly that kiss.. it was your first kiss but he don't need to know that..

yoi! it's my first time writing for sylus yay! btw in the mid of writing this, i feel like this concept suit xavier better, don't you think? or is it just me??

oh ya, next part will be publish soon but don't know when, your gurlie is a professional procrastinator huhuu kbye