#which is also a whole thing because the gifted kid systems existence ALSO fucks over other neurodivergent kids who exist in a less desirabl

[yardofblondegirls]

gifted kid burnout drives me insane. the way you are treated as a child affects how you act as an adult. this is like existence 101. its not just "boohoo i could read so good when i was 6" its "i read well when i was 6 and people decided that meant i should do more work with less help forever, and have extremely negative reactions when i do need help. this happened consistently at an early age and thus affected the way i function now." which is like pretty easy to understand i feel like.

also if you conceptualize gifted education classes as like. little safe havens where all the fortunate kids got to run off to. well that makes sense, because there ARE a lot of really fucked up factors that play into who is considered a gifted kid and who isnt. it is undeniable that racism and classism are a big part of how gifted education programs function. it is also true that gifted education classes can be just as shit as a "regular" class. at the end of the day, youre still going to a teacher, who is a human being, who is part of the system, and might be shit at their job and treat you like shit. and there ARE poor kids and kids of color who get put into gifted education classes and get hurt by it, not just in the sense that "gifted kid burnout can get all of us wow" but that they then have to fight extra hard since they're now in a place that is working against them EVEN MORE THAN THE REGULAR AMERICAN SCHOOL SYSTEM!

the fact of the matter is, gifted education classes are bad! they are a tool for the school system and they are a tool of racism and classism and capitalism. they hurt everyone! they hurt the students in the classes and they hurt the students not in the classes! its bad for everyone! "gifted kid burnout" is just a phrase that some people use to talk about a thing they experienced in their personal life. it's not like a fucking legislative term

saying "you were just a regular kid like the rest of us you werent special" like a dig is crazy to me because its like. well yes! that's the problem! at the end of the day "gifted kid burnout" is a very small symptom (that at this point i see more people complain about people talking about than... actually see people talking about it? but i suppose the internet always has somebody talking about something somewhere) of something that everyone knows which is that the united states school system fucking gargles chode and treats kids like shit!

[davekat-sucks]

(Found this image on Twitter)

I really don't like the Omega kids. I take them as seriously as I take the alphasprites, they don't exist to me. Hearing you guys talk about these little mistakes feels like watching everyone talk about a hypothetical scenario or dream some guy had once... which is the Homestuck experience now.

I dislike them, but it's not just because their stories stem from terrible couples, it's because they're so over designed but there is no meaning to anything.

It's cute Tavros has a bow tie and that Harry has a bandana but those feel like little trinkets that should have been added on later after we get used to seeing them. Show me their personalities first before you overload a character with this much clothing. Yiffy is the worst of these. It's too much. For some reason Eridan feels like a simpler design than this avril lavigne clone. There is something less cohesive and more busy about these designs than the original cast. Maybe it's because it has too many different grays and blacks. She looks more like a vast error character than a Homestuck one.

Look at how simple the character designs start out as, and then they purposely make their own outfits that fit their interests and personalities. Dirk may be a bit of an exception here actually, he changes his clothes right after he is introduced. Which introduces him as anal.

There is meaning here. There is a purpose that the story shares throughout it's run. Look at Rose's dress it was made from the velvet pillow introduced when her mom one-upped her and Roxy's outfit here clearly being a reference to her mom's love of knitting. There is a reason Jade wears blue and John wears green even though that isn't their colors. Dave's shades are a gift from John. John is wearing a bootlegged slimer shirt. I'm not saying the Omega kids need every article of clothing to have a backstory, but if they wear this much clothing it doesn't tell me much.

Why does Yiffy wear cleats if she was hidden away from the world? Did she run around in a backyard like a dog or something? I don't even remember if that is her story or not, I forgot so much about her because I was more focused on how she was a child that Rose had behind her wife's back. They're overloaded with drama too.

To add to that. I haven't placed much thought in it but I don't know what the Omega kids color scheme is supposed to be. I assume the Beta kids colors come from basic web colors. If you invert the beta kid's colors you get the Alpha kids color scheme.

The Omega kids just feel scattered and unorganized. It makes them feel even more meaningless because they don't fit in. If that is the point then why not have five kids to really fuck with the system here? The writers should have really ran with the whole "we're flipping the script and subverting expectations" thing.

I also don't give a shit if this is nitpicky, I'm sure you guys can all see there is something off about the omega kids.

I agree about the accessories doesn't really show they are connected with the Beta Kid adults. If the bandana is suppose to be like a replacement to how Roxy wears a scarf, then let the boy wear a scarf and not a stupid gay bandana. You think that Kanaya, who is a fashionista herself, would be critical of what her daughter, Vrissy wears. And if you are saying she would never reprimand her daughter because she looks like her crush, then that brings up a worse implication that she really is grooming her to be like Vriska by enabling her bad habits. What confuses me is Tavvy's overshirt has the matching color of Gamzee, the one who MOLESTED HIM. You think after his death, he would never wear that color and be disgusted by any shade of purple that's within his sight. Unless him still wearing that purple vest now is still symbolizing he is still bound by Gamzee or can't move on after what he did to him.

But yeah, nothing about the Omega Kids designs makes sense. And I still am on the side that laughs at Yiffany looking more like Nostalgia Critic.

[piromantic]

gender rambling

this isn't about how i feel on the inside or trying to sort out any of that stuff. the older i get the less i care about applying the gender dichotomy to my own feelings or trying to describe myself within this framework that doesn't really mean anything, like i'm myself and i'm good with that

however. we live in a society.

ngl for this being the 'burnt out gifted kid transgender' website i've never actually seen any discussions about gender within competitive academic settings. i've seen some mentions of how toxic masculinity presents differently in nerd spaces, but still permeates it just as much as any other space. but it took like, so fucking long to even recognize it in my own life, let alone unravel how it affected me.

i sometimes play video games with a group of guys from my major and for the last year and a half i was The Team Carry because i had a few hundred extra hours of practice on them. they're all nearly caught up to my level now, and even though they're all the pretty typical 'woo feminism' cis men and have never said anything towards me that was weird or discriminatory, i've started to feel afraid that i'm going to be mentally demoted in their minds as soon as i lose the status of 'carry'. which is irrational, but as i started dissecting where this fear came from it started unraveling like years of my life

it sounds absolutely ridiculous when typed out, but when i'm in my own head i keep going in circles of 'am i, personally, going to lead to the downfall of feminism by not being a woman'.

because i am studying in a field where there aren't many women in general, let alone visibly queer people. things have gotten better for sure but i have literally been in a class where i was the only person who wasn't a cis man in the whole room. so i'm viewed as someone setting an example and paving the way just by existing, which feels like i'm just pulling off a giant deception on people who see me as a sign of community, which feels awful.

but also, i think i became aware of this on a subconscious level YEARS before i realized it outright. like i think about this reaction i have to video games and it takes me all the way back to fourth grade, when i realized that girls were never going to accept me, but if i was mean and smart and loud about it, boys might. so i got really into the Act Of Appearing Smart, which manifested as just being... ridiculously competitive. oh i know more digits of pi than you. oh i can recite more of the periodic table faster than you. oh i can do integrals in my head faster than you. etc etc ad infinitum

when i think back, so much of my life was spent trying to like, win scraps of gender euphoria through 'proving' myself in the academic system. and like. ???? playing the misogyny game is still misogyny. i look back and wonder whether i had a missed opportunity to make these spaces better if i had just pushed back on them a bit more, and whether i was just perpetuating them by being like 'hey guys, no need to stop the toxic masculinity! i'm a girl, and i can succeed in here, so girls who don't succeed just aren't trying hard enough!'

or, put slightly differently: was i just perpetuating the idea that the only way to succeed in these systems was to be masculine.

over time i found that the way boys (and men, now) signify that i've succeeded is to allow me to be in their spaces. guys will tell me about the girls they find hot, forgetting that it's not socially acceptable for me to agree. guys will drop the use of female pronouns when i'm in the group, slotting me under 'boys' or 'king' like the rest of their friends instead of making exceptions. and it's like. if i was a woman i wouldn't let this happen, and i know they would respect that.

BUT I'M NOT A WOMAN. and these things are affirming, but i feel terrible for finding affirmation in them, because they weren't meant that way.

(and i can hear my mother's voice in my head like 'you're not trans, you just want male privilege', and no, i really don't think that's it. i had a friend that used to say misogynistic shit to be edgy when we were in like, elementary-middle school, and i always shut that down immediately. but it never felt like i was defending myself as part of that group. i've just always felt a bit of distance there)

i guess the issue i've been trying to articulate is that things are fine on the surface, but the context for them isn't. if people were treating me the exact same way because i came out to them, i wouldn't feel bad. but i'm a coward and i hate coming out because it usually goes badly for me, and i'd also feel bad about coming out in my area of study specifically because i'm already in the minority right now. (and i don't think it would go over very well, despite diversity trainings and whatever getting more popular.) like i don't want to be the SINGLE they/them in my entire department. that's too much stress for me.

and i have this fear that it would just come across as becoming a stereotype, or being misogynistic. like ohhhh you think you're a man because women can't do math or something. <- insane thing to worry about

idk i need to stop stalling and finish my conference presentation already. if you read this far idk why you would but thanks for making it through all that

[afniel]

OKAY so definitely X1, because the plot hadn't gone to retcon bullshit hell yet, it was a totally new idea, and the whole game is just a massive sucker punch of a fridge moment start to finish.

This also doubles as a character reading for my personal headcanon of X Is The World's Biggest Burned-Out Gifted Kid, and also why I relate so hard to him, lol.

So this X dude exists, right? Dr. Cain, who is an archaeologist, finds him, which you kinda have to squint at to make that make sense, because how do you jump from Dr. Cain being in archaeology to Dr. Cain very shortly after that making the first prototype reploids, but if you squint just hard enough you can kinda go, okay, after all the shit with robots this world has seen, this is not an unreasonable combo. This is a dude who probably has a double PhD and got into a very interesting field. So X was supposed to bake for 30 years because Dr. Light wanted to test his judgement, and he got left in the Morality Oven for even longer than that.

Now you'd think that considering he's from Mega Man's design lineage he'd be great at combat but no, X isn't even ranked worth shit in the Maverick Hunters. Even though he's like, THE first entirely free-willed robot ever, literally has been used as a prototype for everyone after that, and quite probably was involved in a lot of the design work, he is EVERYONE'S DAD kind of but like even then he's just some dude and the fact that he dislikes violence is making his Good At Violence Score very very low. Also his best friend is this loose cannon of a dude whose Good At Violence Score is so high they had to add a new number to the top of the scale just for him because if training simulators had extra credit Zero would be pulling like a 110% score in all his killing things classes, which is normal and nothing that anyone should worry about, obviously.

So X is Just A Guy whose main character trait is that he doesn't enjoy carnage, he worries a lot from being baked at 350° of anxiety for way longer than the package said, and he has such a burning drive to Do The Right Thing that despite his hatred of carnage he has joined the Hunters because he figures it's the right thing to do regardless of his own feelings about it. Like, that's healthy of you, sure. Literally nothing bad has quite happened, we're still in the setup of the plot, and you're already Mister Self-Sacrifice over there. It's gonna go so good for you, buddy.

Dr. Cain invents a guy named Sigma to be the bestest best Hunter ever and he totally is. And he's a pretty alright dude! His subordinates like him, his superiors like him, everyone's impressed and he's like having a hyper competent Mister Clean on staff. Yeah he's a little overzealous sometimes but eh! He's excited about protecting people. (ACAB but we aren't there yet.) The fuckin' Magic Eraser of reploids. On the other hand there's this other Hunter named Vile whose hobby seems to be "collateral damage" and his other hobby is "shrugging like the explosions had nothing to do with him" and the organization is getting a little tired of his shit. So, there's a range there. They kinda let in anyone.

Sigma has these Ideas however and the Ideas go like this, because in the original X1 canon, there's no Maverick virus: "Humans must super suck if they invented us and then had to invent more of us to shoot the ones who don't behave. Skill issue. I think we should shoot them actually and not be ordered to kill our own people because what the fuck, man." And like, from his perspective, that's hard to argue with. If the roles were reversed and reploids were assumed to be peaceful and humans were potentially destructive, and then they started breeding humans specifically to kill other humans do you see why it's kinda fucked up actually, reploids are literally people to begin with anyway. There's not implied to be any kind of trial system, just, did you fuck up hard enough to hurt someone? Cool cool cool here comes the firing squad, hold still or we'll have to get really mad and shoot you more.

So he starts brewing a little revolution under everyone's noses and twists some arms to get his favorite subordinates in on it. Some of them (Flame Mammoth, Sting Chameleon) are just like, "yeah I love breaking shit, I'm in, this is gonna be awesome." Some of them (Chill Penguin, Launch Octopus, Boomer Kuwanger) are like, "I am sufficiently bored and bitter that I'd do literally anything suggested to me and you're the first motherfucker to say anything." Some of them (Armored Armadillo, Spark Mandrill) are just like, "Welp, boss said so, so I guess this is what we're doing now." And then there's Storm Eagle all by himself whose reaction was "Bugs Bunny meme: No." but Sigma beat the shit out of him and was like, "How about yes, though."

Also can we back up a moment because the bar for inclusion in the Maverick Hunters is SO LOW that I'm not entirely sure it wasn't functioning half like a weird little bin that you put guys in when you've decided that you'd rather just know where they are at all times? Like, Sting Chameleon? Nobody knows who built that guy or why. He's a dick and nobody likes him, so he doesn't get promoted often. How is this dude in the robot police, who are presented as good guys, except then wait no some of them have to be bad guys to justify blowing them up? So depending entirely on your point of view and who you've met, they're either a bunch of cool dudes protecting humanity, or a bunch of psycho reploids that hey at least you can point them are the slightly more psycho reploids I guess? This was never a good system! ACAB!

SO Sigma pulls his shit, absconds with the majority of the Hunters (THIS WAS VERY POSSIBLY NOT A GOOD ORGANIZATION, considering how many of them were totally willing to flip because a sufficiently charismatic guy said so!) and now it's X and Zero's problem. X goes, "Okay I hate everything about this but I'm helping >[" and promptly almost gets his ass turbokilled by Vile, because X is kind of a trash tier Hunter, let's be real. Zero saves him, scares off Vile, and tries to be reassuring, but he's got Big Boy things to do like look for Sigma so he goes off to do that, leaving X to sort himself out.

X decides that obviously the thing to do here is the thing he wants to do the least, which is go personally shoot a bunch of guys that he probably knows. He's probably friends with at least some of them. But duty calls or something.

So the main eight stages happen and Dr. Light conveniently left some capsules around with upgrades, saying he thought this could happen so here, have an upgrade to become a better death machine, which is the last fucking thing X actually wants LIKE THINK ABOUT IT. The upgrade capsules specifically make X better at THE THING HE HATES THE MOST. There's some serious fridge horror in this! How are you gonna win, defined by Making This Guy Kill, Which He Detests, without totally physically violating him and changing his entire body, arguably against his will? You can't! The leg upgrade isn't even skippable. The more time you spend thinking about this the worse it will get, believe me.

X being X, he just goes along with it because here is a dude who has somehow, with no prompting whatsoever, fully internalized that his opinion doesn't really matter here and he's just got to do what he thinks has to be done. Ouch.

So eight dead ex-Hunters later (really a lot more than that but we're counting named guys here) X is like, excelling at the whole killing things...thing. Which once again I feel like it bears repeating that

he knew those guys, those were his colleagues,

he is a pacifist and is having the worst possible time.

Zero shows up like, "Hey I found Sigma's base! Why are you covered in coolant?" and X is like, "Don't really wanna talk about that right now, thanks," and off they go.

They run right into Vile, and Zero is like, "Hold up, I'll deal with this dude, you wait here in this room." Several Looney Tunes sound effects later, X is like, "I think I'm gonna stop waiting here and go see what the fuck is taking Zero more than 10 seconds." He rushes in and Vile is like, "oh my GOD the fucking TODDLER is here, I cannot BELIEVE you did not learn anything from last time we did this, unlike me, who learned that Zero is a goddamn problem so I stuffed him in a cage," and promptly almost turbokills X. If there's one character in the entire series that X could probably shoot their head off with only minor conflicted feelings about it, it's probably Vile, let's be honest here. And Vile would actually deserve it too.

Vile however did not learn the extent to which Zero was willing to go to be a goddamn problem, because while he's gleefully and slowly gripping X into a fine carcinogenic dust, Zero breaks out of the cage, gives Vile's big stupid custom ride armor a nice hug, and blows himself up to fuck. X finally kicks Vile's ass clean in two, powered by the sheer horror of his Literal Only Friend at this point exploding right in front of him and specifically because he's STILL MID AT BEST AT KILLING DESPITE ALL THE HORRIFIC PRACTICE, and Zero is like, "Hey, you suck a lot less than before," which is not really true but it's nice of his remaining upper half to say so. He gives X a weapon (either his Z-Saber which is cool if you inflicted the X-Buster upgrade on X already, or the Z-Buster which is much less cool if you missed the arm upgrade). And then he dies.

At this point it's not even interesting that Sigma has his ass beaten, like, this is a forgone conclusion. He doesn't really say anything interesting, he isn't that interesting himself, and after you beat him, you get to this:

X is just standing on a cliff post-Sigma's floating fortress exploding, thinking, "What the fuck was any of this for." Every single person he knew at the start of the game is dead, and he personally killed them, except for Zero who he probably thinks he killed via sheer incompetence. The music is SO DEPRESSING. I can not actually think of a bigger downer ending to a game that wasn't either a bad end in a game with multiple endings, or something indie and intentionally downer like OFF or Lisa: The Painful.

The war has ended for now and peace has been restored. But those who sacrificed themselves for the victory will never return. Exhausted, X gazes at the destruction he helped cause and wonders why he chose to fight. Was there another way? Standing on the cliff, the answers seem to escape him. He only knows that he’ll fight the Mavericks again before he finds his answer. How long will he keep on fighting? How long will his pain last? Maybe only the X-Buster on his hand knows for sure…

It's even worse in Japanese.

THIS POOR DUDE HONESTLY. He was invented to Just Be A Guy, ended up becoming a murder machine, and doesn't even feel any real justification for it by the end, he just wonders if he massively fucked up. And he fully realizes that everyone is going to call him a hero and ask him to do it again. And again. And again. And what's he gonna do, say no? Let people die? That'll be his fault too probably. It doesn't matter what he does, he's going to have SO MUCH blood on his hands.

Or so he thinks, anyway, but seriously, that's not fair to ask of a single person however much they're a super cool robot designed to evolve via life experiences. Like that's just too much responsibility. Where the fuck was anyone else in this whole tragedy? Not counting Zero, who tried and exploded, but also Zero is kinda extremely into combat so it's not as big of a deal for him and that's probably also a mindfuck when you think about it: his best buddy is absolutely not struggling with any of this shit, X is just uniquely having a bad time and it probably seems like a personal failing (because he has no idea that the world's evilest dollar store Einstein made his friend to be as violent as possible and probably coded him very poorly on top of it but that's an entire OTHER ramble).

So ultimately you get this story about a guy who is told by everything in the story that he is So Special And Unique And Capable And Amazing And Good At Everything And Going To Save The World, only he's demonstrably not good at everything, hates what he's had to become, hates that he can't un-become it, hates that everyone loves that he became this, and loses everything to it. That! Fucking! Sucks!

Now imagine you're a kid playing this for the first time, and you've been told by everyone around you that you're So Special And Unique And Capable And Amazing And Good At Everything And Going To Save The World, only you're demonstrably not good at everything, don't want to become what everyone says you will, hate that you can't get them to just let you be normal, hate that everyone is so excited for you to become this, and you're pretty sure you're going to get tracked into somewhere you don't want to be in life by sheer expectations. Welcome to middle school me, being labeled as gifted and told the most insane shit about what I was "capable of" while entirely ignoring that I have ADHD and autism, which obviously couldn't be the case, because I was Very Very Smart and therefore not allowed to struggle because other kids have it so much harder, I should be glad that I'm being singled out and given every advantage (read: being shoehorned into increasingly more difficult situations with less and less support because I "don't need it").

Also, my best friend did not have ADHD and autism, which made me feel pretty sure that I had in fact somehow tricked everyone into thinking I was So Special And Unique Etc. Imagine having impostor syndrome about being gifted AND about being normal AT THE SAME TIME.

So you can kinda see where I might have latched onto this narrative a little bit! I don't think it's a huge stretch. I think it's very easy to read a lot of stuff into there that I see X and just go,

Oh, emotional support robot, we are really in it now.

So anyway that's the plot of X1 as interpreted by someone who TOTALLY did not play the game at a formative time or anything and then ~30 years later have An Revelation about why the hell it resonated as hard as it did, that would be silly, who the hell would do such a thing. Not this guy! To be fair though, you do not at all have to stray from canon for any of that. It's just shit that doesn't hit you for a while. Like maybe ~30 years or so. Sometimes the fridge moment is very delayed, and it takes a while to jump from, "Huh, this game sure has a sad ending," to, *Stares numbly into the fridge for fifteen minutes processing that X probably did not want to be upgraded at all actually.*

AND THEN, BECAUSE REASONS, after all that shit happened, and the credits finish, and they play their little palate cleanser music for you like an apology for the ending they just made you watch, Sigma fucking appears on your TV, swearing to make himself X's problem forever.

COME ON HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS JUST. TAKE A CHILL PILL FOR ONCE. GOD DAMN.

I just wish the Maverick logo was a little less hideous because I'm getting that shit as a tattoo someday and in an ideal world, it would be a less silly tattoo, but I have not once let something like "being silly" or "looking stupid" stop me and I'm not about to start now.

The End

Anyone: Hey (asks about a special interest of mine)? Me: Becomes an unskippable cutscene

[irenadel]

So I recently read the short story “An Unwilling Apprentice” and found it all sorts of unsatisfying and intriguing, mostly because in canon we are given completely contradictory hints in regards to how old exactly Maul was when Sidious took him and in what circumstances he was taken.

1) Maul seems to remember nothing of Dathomir. True this can happen both if he was taken as a baby too young to remember or by sheer, ornery self-defense against remembering something less shitty that current circumstances.

1) a) Maul’s name: Maul says in Rebels that he used to have a name long ago, that was forgotten, which is just... I’m... it kills me okay? That just outright destroys the fuck out of me. Because it means he’s acknowldging a Dathomir he doesn’t remember, but now knows existed (thanks to Savage and that bitch Talzin, whom I stan), a Time Before Sidious. And also because... I don’t think “Maul” is actually a sithly soubriquet. “Maul” sounds too much like other nightbrother names, which sure, all sound sithly but that’s because Dathomir is neck deep in Dark Side Aesthetics. It’s entirely possible that “Maul” is his actual birth name. Talzin and Savage never call him anything else, though Talzin would have a vested interest in restoring to him any sort of lost name, maybe not in the immadiate aftermath of dragging Maul out of the pit of raving insanity, but at any point afterwards... maybe? a little? Mother Talzin if you named him something less metal please speak up...

2) There is that one depiction of Maul in Son of Dathomir, presumably at the time Sidious just got hold of him.

And like that’s absolutely adorable but he IS too old to not remember anything because of age (then again comic book artists are notorious for drawing weirdly adulty kids), so that means he did not remember because he blocked most of his memories? Well.... my problem with this is that you create a sort of phantom (ha!) preMaul where you have to imagine Maul sans Sidious’s influence and that’s.... strange if you’re not thinking about a baby or a toddler who have just the beginning of a personality. It’s unsatisfactory for me at least, because you strip Maul of all we know of Maul and chase after the shadow of a kid who no longer exists.

3) We have two accounts of how Maul ends up with Sidious, one of them Talzin insisting he was stolen (what does that mean? furtively? or by coercion like Asajj) and the other being Sidious’s account from the comic Son of Dathomir “a not so appreciated gift” or some old sithly nonsense like that. One must consider that both parties are liars, who is the worst liar of the two? who the fuck knows? So it’s entirely possible that both accounts are wrong or one is right or both are bogus.

3) a) Then there’s also that thing where apparently Talzin wanted to be Sidious’s apprentice and like... for what? and how? and why? and how did you think this was gonna come out okay!? You’re already either clan mother or poised to be clan mother, what do you need this shmuck for!? (Wait! did she become clan mother because of what he taught her? Intriguing new possibility) Like with all competent, older dark siders (I see you Dooku) I am always left baffled by how anyone who is both powerful and saavy ever gets roped into siding with Sidious. The dude is like Chronic Backstabbing Disorder: The Movie. There is nothing about him that says Trustworthy... unless he actually has the chance to groom you since childhood. Like I get Maul, Anakin and Ben Solo.... but WTF Dooku and Talzin?! You guys knew better!!!!

3) b) This is happening when Sidious’s own master is still alive right? Whether you take that to be Plagueis or else... So, so, so.... is Sidious hanging around Dathomir to find out a way to kill his own master? Doesn’t he say something along the lines of “I was learning from her when she thought she was learning from me”? I dunno, sounds like a shitty Sidious thing to do.

So all this to say “An Unwilling Apprentice” presents us a scenario where Maul is in Dathomir long enough to be a boy taught by his mother, who is sometimes bullied by other, bigger boys, and old enough to understand fishy things are happening between his mom and the creepy dude (Sidious). And the manipulation is spot on, don’t get me wrong, Sidious does that thing he does with Anakin where he tells Talzin to do horrible things to herself to gain more power and all these things do is drive a wedge between her and her son, all the while he is stoking anger and resentment in Maul, so that when the time comes Maul goes with him willingly even though that was not the deal he and Talzin had struck. So it is true both that this boy is being “stolen” but also given as a sort of gift to Sidious...

It’s just that this author does the thing authors in Star Wars always do, where they ignore previously established canon, because we can’t actually have one coherent galaxy can we? Because... one, Maul is old enough to remember everything... and like okay I can go with him just blocking those memories.... but this also means Maul was taken old enough for Savage to remember and Savage doesn’t seem to in TCW. Let’s grant that Maul is an unreliable narrator who may be supressing memories or lying about how much he remembers.... but SAVAGE doesn’t remember him. How much Savage actually remembers of his brothers and life is also up for debate, given the Dark Side Steroids and brainwashing he underwent, but still.... STILL it seems the only one who fully remembers Maul is Talzin.

But then we have this in “An Unwilling Apprentice”:

“Matters, however, were only to get worse, for later that night, having been hauled from the pit, the boy found himself introduced to those his keeper claimed would become his kin: a tall, wiry boy of a similar age and a stocky, broad shouldered boy at least a year older.

‘These two boys had for too long been starved of the love and attention all children crave, for the keeper was a stern and self-righteous man, and their mother had long before been taken from them to join a mysterious order from which she had never returned. It seemed fitting, then, that the two of them resented the new boy as much as he resented them, for he represented another mouth to feed and another who would vie for the keeper’s scant attention.“

Are the boys bullying Maul, Savage and Feral??? What the hell kind of jump in characterization is this? Because Savage and Feral seem to be adorable bros who just bro around being bros and not harming anyone until Asajj shows up to fuck their whole shit up... And like I get people can change a lot growing up but...... come on, you don’t have time to take me through such a radical change in personality, this is a short story! Or maybe these bullies have nothing to do with his brothers. (There’s another brother mentioned as a “weakling”? Is THAT Savage? But then Savage is definitely Force sensitive and not a weakling.... is it Feral? Why mention weakling brother if we don’t get enough information on him to place him or have him do enough to affect the story? AUGH!)  And there’s the line, “their mother had been taken from them”.... So nightsisters grow up with nightbrothers? What? Is this keeper brother Viscus? What is going on? What insanity is this?

This is what I mean by ignoring canon. Dathomir is presented as a society violently segregated by gender. You never see any young boys with the nightsisters or any young girls with the nightbrother. For all intents and purposes they all live apart until Violent Breeding Ritual of Rapey Undertones ensues. Any story where you want Maul to be raised at least partially by Talzin must account for this segregation and in that sense you don’t actually... need.... the bullies.... they are kind of superfluous.... You have a whole caste system beating down on babyMaul and his mother wanting to keep him besides her. But then once more you have to account for olderMaul remembering nothing of this. Which okay, fair enough, Savage seems not to remember either. Neither of them seem to be scared or even wary of women... though by all means Savage should definitely be....

I just think it was a good plot with a weak setup that ignored a super useful canon setting and does not account for Maul remembering nothing of all of this! 

When considering all of this I wonder if the most interesting explanation is that Maul did spend enough time in Dathomir to remember but he does not from sheer trauma. I think adult Maul seems to depend on Sidious a lot but... he also seems a lot more... I’m not going to say rebellious, but I’ll say “aware” than Anakin. He goes behind Sidious’s back much more than Vader and is way more resentful of his position as a subordinate (and ready to lord his masterdom over Savage as soon as he gets it... but.... harmlessly.....like siths but for babies, babysiths).

Maybe the more interesting view is to think that Maul remembers nothing and it is only upon encountering Savage and Talzin that, little by little, he begins to remember pieces of it. It would explain his sudden loyalty to Talzin. It would explain his desire for a long forgotten name that Sidious never gave him... it would explain... a lot...

[pallasperilous]

So It Goes

So, forgive me this indulgence as somebody who does not ordinarily write meta; a friend asked me why I thought that the manner of Dean’s death in 15x20 is an incredibly lovely and mature writing choice. I think it is so, for reasons that also happen to explain why so many fans of the show fucking loathe it.

There is some Vonnegut at the end. Hang in for that. 

PART ONE: 

Chuck's story direction has always made sure that the boys, if they died, did so in a mega intense or glorious fashion (minus the *Mystery Spot* meddling by Gabriel, and those weren't meant to be permadeaths). Those deaths were awesome heroic television deaths that FED the story rather than ending it. Every time, the surviving brother would do some extremely stupid and destabilizing shit to bring the other back, often feeding an entire new cycle of death and retrieval. 

If he *didn't* (cf: Sam in the Cage, Dean in Purgatory), it caused a massive rift between them, which then fed *further* wild-ass decisions. The dudes were in the dictionary under 'codependency'. People knew that killing or capturing one of them meant the other wasn't far behind. 

Chuck's endgame for Sam and Dean was literally to *die fighting God.* How much more heroically wanky can you get?

But they beat him. They’re free. Jack takes over, and makes it clear that he isn’t going to be a God who meddles or directs; he’s not going to be their in-house writer. He’s just going to set things back where they belong, reform the systems that Chuck established out of ego or cruelty, and then integrate himself with the universe so that anything that happens to it…happens to him, too. He’s won’t be a character anymore. He’s a setting.

PART TWO: 

So, minus Chuck, with Jack’s goodbye and Castiel’s sacrifice…the boys get to experience plain old…real life. Tuesday! Drinking beer, kicking the laundry machine, filling out shitty job applications, enjoying the little consolations of food and pets and free time. (I think that messy room and dog-bonding and staring into the internet bespeaks a Dean who is really doing his goddamn best to not implode with grief as he has in the past, but to try to thrive in the face of deep grieving). 

When Sam expresses grief over losing Cas, Dean's response is basically: yeah, it sucks. But our job, that our loved ones sacrificed for us to have a shot at… is to stop trying to reverse all of our losses, and to learn to live with them, like normal people have to. That’s the price of the gift they’ve been given — accepting whatever real life deals them.

They can literally do anything they want; circumstances won’t herd them into Season 16. What’s the first thing Dean really does, after this little break? 

He hears “missing kids, dead parents” and he dives right back in. He opens his Dad’s goddamn notebook for the info. He’s immediately choosing to go right back to where they started, for the sake of helping other people. He books them to fight some of the very first basic bitch monsters he and Sam dealt with. That is unforced 100% Dean’s choice. 

(Sam has demonstrated an ability to not take on the responsibility of eliminating all monster-based misfortunes in the world and pursue a life beyond just hunting, so long as Dean has been off the map…but Dean’s one attempt to take a job and settle down with Lisa ended up being so obviously hollow that Castiel felt SO BAD he took time off from RUNNING HEAVEN to rescue Sam FOR DEAN.)

PART THREE: 

Remember Chuck's little fit earlier where Dean wound up getting his teeth drilled etc? That bad luck was being magnified by Chuck being pissed at them, but the brothers truly did find themselves facing ordinary people shit they had never really had to deal with. It drove the point home -- Sam and Dean had been exempt, this whole time, from the petty little ways that failure and misfortune work in the normal world. That extended to their hunting, too — they found out that there were people they could fail to save, despite their best effort. People who, according to the rules they’d been operating under, should have been savable. 

So we see this hunt — which is really rough and tumble. They’re still doing amazingly considering how outnumbered they are, but this was some of the most intentionally graceless fight choreography I remember seeing on the show. They seriously almost lose the fight, and Sam kills that last vamp pestering Dean with the kind of “whew!” last minute heroics we’ve come to expect from the show.

And Dean realizes: something has gone wrong. Something that no pulp TV action genre writer would ever, ever draft for a hero’s death. There was some scary rebar sticking out and Dean got shoved into it in the scuffle and it hath Fucked Him Up. It’s the kind of shit that happens on construction sites. It’s an accident. It’s a random misfortune. It has nothing to do with his heroism or skill or the cleverness or powerfulness of his opponents. It just happens.

Under show rules, here is what would happen next: Castiel would heal him. Jack would heal him. Sam would call an ambulance and Dean would be DOA and Sam would whip out his cellphone and call Rowena or a crossroads demon or Sister Jo or research a spell and we’d be off and rolling for Season 16.

But Dean says: Don’t do that.

Because that is what Chuck would write.

Dean realizes — this is exactly the world they have fought to exist in. A world that is randomly wonderful, randomly shitty. This happened because he chose to be here. Nobody made them pursue this hunt. Is he surprised that it happened so soon, that he ended up having so little time to give unscripted life a shot? Yes, to the point that he clearly thinks it’s honestly kinda funny. Cuz who’d write it like that? Nobody! He likes the part that he gets to die on a hunt, standing up, in his boots — that’s what he’s always seen for himself. Not in a bad way, not in a “killing machine” or a “daddy’s little soldier” way, but because it means he kept fighting for other people up to the last second. He’s upset that Sam is so upset — he’s more worried about calming Sam and reassuring him than he is about how cool his death is gonna look on IMDB, or how they can cheat circumstance to buy him more time. 

Instead of buying more time, at the expense of living like real people instead of TV characters…he decides to make the most of this one moment. He tells Sam how much he loves him. He tells Sam that Sam will be okay; he’s going to go live a whole life on whatever terms he and the universe can work out together, and the fact that Dean isn’t there is gonna be a painful but acceptable part of those terms. Dean says: don’t go running off trying to change this. Just spend this last little bit of time with me, while the universe does its thing. That’s what they do.

TL;DR — this death is fucking awesome because Chuck would absolutely fucking hate it. He wanted Sam and Dean to go down in a ball of fire together, fighting their coolest foe ever, CHUCK! 

Instead: Dean dies like a normal person, from an accident bred under circumstances that he chose for himself. Chuck loses half his prize, not to some other big bad, but to a damn piece of construction material on a mundane job.  And Dean gets to die in a way that unshackles Sam’s fate from his own. Like Castiel did for him, he gets to say: I love you. This is enough for me. Go live your life.

He finally gets to drop his kid back off at Stanford.

Chuck would be so pissed.

And we, the viewers of Supernatural...well, hell, we’re ultimately fans of Chuck’s writing, aren’t we? So of course something so unprecedented, so un-heroic or badass, so mundane and intimate and random...of course it shocks. Because that’s not the show we’ve been watching!! But isn’t that the point? The author is dead. We can put aside his tastes, and we can look at Dean’s death, and say the words of Dean’s actual favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut --  So it goes.

[yandere-society]

The Ultimatum

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day has rolled around once again, and just like last year, you plan on spending it with none other than your emotional support dog. What you don’t know, however, is that you have an unexpected visitor awaiting for you at home.. and not only does he have a loaded gun on his hip, but he also has your beloved pet in his lap.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 6,000

Admin: @tatertotthethot​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, signs/mentioning of mental disorders such as: anxiety, depression, PTSD and dissociation; Mentions of gang violence; Depictions of gore; nonconsentual kissing (nothing sexual); no dogs were harmed in the making of this…

“Here you go, guys.” You said as you handed the couple across the counter their drinks. You returned their smiles and bid them a good day, but as soon as they turned away and linked their fingers together on the way out, your expression settled into one of disdain.

Baley, your manager, noticed it. But like always, she chose to ignore it. She’s very much use to your secretive, albeit bitter distaste towards romance. She’s been working along side you for two years now, and knows that you’re a big advocate for holiday decorations. You’ve decked the place out on Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas— even fucking Saint Patrick’s day. But for Valentine’s Day, all you did was slap some heart shaped stickers on the window and didn’t even look too happy to be doing that, either. But she’s never been one to push.

“Guess what I’m doing this evening,” She hinted, hanging the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

“Hm?” You asked, having zoned out while rinsing your shot glasses out.

“I’m gonna eat the rest of my edibles and read some alien erotica.”

Not expecting anything less from her, given her personality, you only choked out a laugh and shook your head. It’d be more amusing if you knew she wasn’t kidding. Baley has a weird obsession with aliens and you never took her serious about it until you bought her a tentacle dildo as a gag-gift on her birthday, and instead of laughing about it and going off into a banter like you were anticipating, she started screaming and jumping up and down like you just handed her the last Golden Ticket to the fucking chocolate factory.

“What about your boyfriend?” You asked, forcing yourself to engage in conversation to keep you from spiraling.

“He’s out of town. So I’ll be thinking of him as I read about the alien king abducting me and using my tenta-holes—“

“Never mind.” You cut her off, trying to let that lighten up the mood. You appreciated the effort, but it didn’t work. You just wanted today to be over.

It’d be a whole lot better if only you could tell her the truth and come clean about your past. But it’s not like she’d believe you, even if you had the guts. But in all honesty, her fantasy about alien abduction was more believable.

You’re a barista making $10 an hour, living paycheck to paycheck and inhabiting the house your grandmother left you in her will. You have no car, you rely on public transportation; all your clothes are from goodwill and when you’re not working at this shop, you spending your life in confinement of those walls with your dog, as a recluse.

If you even dared to tell Baley that, just three years ago, you were living in a million-dollar mansion in South Korea, and had a luxurious wardrobe from big-name designers and that you didn’t even own a pair of fucking socks that were under $100.. she’d look at you as if you were the alien. She wouldn’t entertain the bigger half of the story, about how you were engaged to a man who’s now serving a life sentence and could possibly be put on death row for committing a robbery that left one of the international banking systems short 23-million won— which would amount to be approximately 20 million dollars in America... you would’ve lost her at the word Fiancé.

It’d be easy to prove, though. Your associations to the crime may not show up in your background check, being as you’re back here in America and was never detained, and the news isn’t relevant enough to circulate here. However, a simple google search would reveal it all, even with pictures of you two in public.

But not even you wanted to look up his name to know what was going on with his case. You were still ambient to forget about him, in a way. You wanted to ignore his existence. You fucking loath that man.. you swear, you do.

You had fallen back into a brooding silence again without even meaning to, and although you were busily cleaning up off muscle memory, you were detached. He still has that effect on you. And truth be known, the first year you spent in lonesome isolation after leaving Korea was just a change of scenery but not very different from the lifestyle he had subjected you to. But even still, it was so much better than living with him at the estate. And now, with your dog Sweetpea there, you feel safe again. At least you were in the same place you grew up, and felt closer to your grandmother—

Fuck, you missed her so much. He wouldn’t even let you visit her in person before she past. The man owned his own private jet and it never had any maintenance problems until the one fucking night you needed to go back home. You only got to speak with her on the phone, and bawled your fucking eyes out and spewed out an incoherent apology just hours before her heart gave out. That’s when she told you that she left you the house, and how sorry she was for kicking you out of it because you didn’t pursue the career field she wanted you to go for.

If only they would’ve arrested Taehyung a month prior, you could’ve been there for her. You could’ve hugged her and the two of you could given each other the apology you both deserved.

“Hey..” Baley’s voice suddenly came to your left ear, the only one that you could actually hear out of. Your right one, despite being 80% deaf even with a functioning hear aid, was faintly ringing from the emotional tangent you had accidentally drifted into.

You looked over at her, and broke down. Although she could never fully understand, she still gave you an empathetic frown and was pulling you into a hug before you could sputter out an apology— not that there was any use for one.

You had secrets that still haunted you, and will always impair your daily life— much like your botched eardrum and this shitty device you spent way too much money on. That’s another thing you only had Kim Taehyung to thank for, along with your fucked up shoulder.

You had to carefully elevate your arms but eventually returned the hug and cried a little harder, not able to help it. Sweetpea was a great reciprocate for affection and did a swell job with distracting you, but as far as human comfort goes, you haven’t had so much as that in.. well, seven fucking years. Tae was always big on affection, and also comforted you when you needed it. But it was redundant and didn’t have a sincere effect, being as he was the very one that initially caused the hurt it derived from.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, I never do... but I want you to know that I can see how strong you are. You’re doing a great job at making it through each day...” she muttered, rubbing your back as it shook with each silent sob. You felt bad when you heard her own voice beginning to thicken, but that was no surprise. She was a sympathizer and a little bit emo in general. Seeing others cry was enough to jerk a tear out of her, and you loved that about her. She’s a weirdo, but she’s pure, and she’s very good hearted. You could even say that you may have deeper feelings for her as well, and they may even be mutual, but you were no good for her. Hell, you were already putting her in enough danger just by being an employee at her shop. If you were to let your relationship stem past being friendly coworkers, or even hung out with her outside of work, that could pose an actual threat to her safety.

So, even though you wanted to lengthen the embrace, and longed to tighten your arms around her even more, you pulled back and wiped at your face, giving her a weak grin and a nod instead.

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before taking a step back, recollecting herself.

“You go home. I got everything else.”

You sheepishly nodded again, thanking her one last time before collecting your things and booking it out of there. Had you not felt so broken and defeated in that moment, you would’ve refused. But her show of affection triggered a deep, dire need to give and be given more comfort.

Fortunately for you, though, you had a special someone for that. Your dog is the only living creature on this planet that can be trusted with the revelations of your past. She’s the only reliance you have for receiving unconditional love and support without any judgment... probably because she doesn’t even understand what the fuck you’re saying half the time, nor can she repeat the shit you say, but as far as comfort goes, it’s always a guarantee.

— That’s just in her nature, like most pets. Pitbulls, however, are very sensitive and attentive to certain emotions— especially depression and anxiety. They’re just as good with protecting their owners, as well as they are with babysitting them. Everyone knows pitbulls have a notorious and misguided reputation for being aggressive. But little do most know, before dog fighting became a popular thing and defamed their personalities, pitbulls were primarily referred to as ‘Nanny dogs’. They’re great with babies in general, and very domestic and charismatic by nature. But despite being big, loveable goof balls themselves, they can literally sense stressful emotions and will know what type action to take in order to sedate them.

Sweetpea may not have professional training and certification but it is by her true nature and personality that you call her an Emotional Support Dog. When you’re having another one of your episodes— panic attacks, senseless paranoia, nightmares— she’s running to your aid and doing anything she can to distract and get you to play with her. When you’re depressed and spiraling into another breakdown, she licking at your face and sitting in your lap, not even seeing the problem with her being three times bigger than the average lap dog—

“Kneehemplamaforseeking?”

You sucked in a breath and blinked over at the PetsMart employee, smiling a few away from you. You probably looked lost, and in a way you quite literally were. You hardly remember walking in the direction of this store, let alone entering it. But this a common thing for you, so you easily just went on about your way despite the sudden worry of missing your bus... again.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” You had asked, turning your good ear towards her and watching her lips move.

“Do you need help looking for something?” She repeated, carefully annunciating her words this time, now that she could see the device in your ear. In today’s age, most people mistake it as a bluetooth— which has unknowingly saved you from accidentally talking to yourself in public, more than you would know.

You shook your head in response to the lady, and checked the time on your phone. You had 30 minutes left, thank God.

“No thanks. I’m just here to get some treats and waste some time before my bus comes. It’s windy as hell outside.”

“Ah, it certainly is,” she agreed, making her way to the next aisle. “Be safe out there!”

“I’ll try.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing a bag of bacon strips off the shelf— the very thing you had ultimately came for. It should’ve taken you no more than 5 minutes to grab and go. But it wasn’t uncommon for you to take much longer and aimlessly wonder down multiple aisles only to get one or two things from the same aisle, though. You do it at every store you go to, if you can stand to be outside of your home or away from work.

After checking out, you made it a mission to stay present until your bus came. By the time you got home, you were more stable.. up until the bus driver— a sweet elderly man who’s been transporting you on this route for last couple of years, handed you a rose on your way down the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, young lady.”

You had the strength to give him a genuine smile, but as soon as you stepped off and the doors closed, and the bus engine picked back up and left you with a gust of wind, you broke again.

Taehyung always gave you a bouquet of blood red roses for Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sucker for them. And you still are, but sentiment wasn’t the only emotion to come now. They brought on an ache. A pain. A worry. A twinge of longing, but a fuckton of resentment.

You wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp at it.. better yet, you wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn while smoking a much needed cigarette. But first, you need to see your dog. You know she’s just as anxious to see you.

You trudged up to your door and was quick to unlock it... but frowned when you didn’t see her on the other side. Maybe it was because your ears were ringing again from how worked up you’d just gotten. But usually, the mere sound of your key twisting at the lock would have her running to the and practically beating it down, and you’d opened to see her gleefully wining out and wagging her tail.

But she wasn’t there.

“Sweetpea?” You called out, making it a point to swing the door shut behind you. Still, nothing—

Whimpering. You heard her whimpering and your head snapped over to the hallway. Your heart began to race. Your bed door was open, as always, and you could hear her in there but she wasn’t coming out. Only whimpering for you to come to her.

Fearing the worst, thinking perhaps she’d hurt herself to the extent that she couldn’t move, you barged down the hallway and listened with a sickening sense of uneasiness as her whimpering turned to muffled howls.

“Sweetpea, wha—“

You screamed. Sheer horror and white-hot adrenaline erupted through your veins and scorched your nerve endings, leaving you numb in the limb to the impact of the floor beneath your kneecaps. All you could feel was the volcanic eruption of despair in your chest and the strain in your diaphragm.

Sweetpea was okay, but very much in danger. She had a muzzle on, and her big, canopy-like ears were peeled back and her big, doughy eyes were wildly beading dead at you as she struggled and pawed at the carpet, watching you fall to you fall out. She was so worried to get to you but she couldn’t, do to the death grip of the man who was holding her by a leash. She couldn’t even interpret the lethality of the weapon that was also aimed at the back of her head— a glock you specially recall being the weapon of choice when Taehyung pistol whipped a man’s head open before emptying all twelve rounds in his magazine into his face.

Now, all you could envision was the same being done to that sweet face and big, bulbous head.

You screamed out and wailed even louder, not even looking at the intruder or registering who it was. Because you already fucking knew and in your mind it was too late.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, making you and Sweetpea flinch. You stopped screaming but your breath was ragged beyond your control. Your vision was bouncing between his fierce scowl and Sweetpea’s fearsome one. You dove forward, intending to crawl and beg but two pairs of shoes stepped out from where they’d been standing behind the door, and their hands gripped you by the biceps before hauling you up to your feet. You didn’t even try to resist them. You knew better than that. But fear still had you discombobulated and speaking out to yourself, feeling incredibly dizzy and disarrayed.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“You’re not dreaming.” Taehyung snarled, palm itching to slap some sense into you. But even within the three years he’s spent in bitterness, it didn’t change the morality he did have in relations to you. He’d never hit you out of anger.

But then he realized the real reason why you were saying that, when your knees suddenly gave out and the hold his men had on you became the only thing keeping you up right as you fainted out. He didn’t realize you still had that problem, and it hurt him to see that now.

Back when he had you in his possession, you had accidentally witnessed an execution down in the basement of his mansion. It was the first time you fainted, a d your body came toppling down a good ten-or-so steps, which were made of cement, and you were lucky to have only broken your nose and dislocated your shoulder.

Guilt crashed over him, suddenly. He meant to terrorize you in a way that wasted little time to gain submission, but he didn’t mean to trigger your PTSD— although he knew it was likely. Given the resolve, he put the gun back in its holster and stood up, beckoning for Yoongi to take the leash. Jungkook easily held you up by the waste and waited to pass you off to your fiancé before bringing your wrists behind your back. You slowly came to as he did so, and your head lolled back up only for your entire body to snap back into attention all at once, now that you were face to face with the Devil himself.

“Come on, you fucking idiot!”

Your head snapped over and you began to panic again as Yoongi fought with your, trying to drag her over to her cage by the leash. She was putting up one hell of a fight and audibly wheezing from the choke, her eyes now bulging as she looked at you.

You bucked against the both of them, your maternal instincts causing you to go feral as you saw red.

“QUIT! YOU’RE FUCKING CHOKING HER, YOU FUCKING PRICK! PICK HER UP!”

“She’s too squirmy!” He shouted back, the shock of your outburst causing him to lose tension and Sweetpea lunged the both of them forward. Tae was shouting at Jungkook to hurry with the restraints and squeezing you tighter, but you were kicking and flailing like a fish out of water now.

“MAKE HIM STOP!” You cried out, but was forcefully silenced by the gigantic hand that grabbled around the entire bottom half of your face— including your nose. Having been in this situation before, knowing his antics, you knew he wasn’t going to let you breathe again until you did as told. So you were forced to settle down but was still desperately pleading with your eyes, crying as your dog continued to heave against the menstruations.

“Yoongi, for fuck sake, the dog is 50 pounds. Just pick her up and put your in the kennel.” Tae stressed, eyes still locked with yours.

With a grunt, Yoongi tackled your dog and trapped her in a bear hug, snatching her up off the ground. You wanted to scream at him again but you were actually starting to struggle for oxygen, chest jolting with an involuntary attempts to inhale.

“Alright, they’re on. I just gotta link them.”

Tae’s hand finally dropped and you hacked out, swallowing as much air as you could. Now that Sweetpea was safely in her cage, you had time to worry about your own safety, but the look on his face wasn’t giving off such a merciful vibe.

“You do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I won’t fight back... but if you hurt my dog—“

“If I hurt your fucking dog, it’ll just be tough shit for you. I’ll still do whatever the hell I want and unless you need me to prove that, I suggest you stop with ultimatums..” he chuckled, but it sounded so cold and twisted. He was on the verge of snapping, and was fighting to keep as much composure as he could right now, for your sake.

But he was on a heist right now, you readied yourself for the unknown when he punctuated his sentence by grappling your throat with the same, vandalized and accessorized hand he just smothered you with— fingers digging in at the sides. Your breathing was once again constricted and your eyes reddened in strain, your voice dying out.

Tae may not beat you, but he knows your worse fear is dying by suffocation. Hence, why he’s so big in breath play.

“Can you?” He reiterated, snarling his teeth at you and revealing the top and bottom pair of golden, fang-shaped plates framing his pearly white canine teeth. Back in the day, you found them so extravagant and tasteful, but now you found them all the more threatening.

He waited until your eyes began fluttered back before letting go again, and Jungkook’s body was the only thing that saved you from falling back. You never understood why, but for some reason, Jungkook was the only person Tae allowed to be in closer range of you, even when it wasn’t necessary. He even reminded you of that when Yoongi had stepped a little too close and Taehyung shot a glare over to him that had him taking a couple steps back. But Jungkook was apparently free to stand there, holding you up even as you regained your footing. You feared that one day it will all make sense, but for now, you were thankful that he was there to at least to save you from collapsing.

It’d be great if they weren’t even fucking here, at all.

“Go put the kennel in the car— not on the seats, though. Hobi will kill me if I fuck up the interior.”

“Please let me rehouse her.” You begged, cringing as his eyes returned to you. They looked even more colorless than before. “I’ll come with you, but I don’t want her there with us.”

“She’s fine. As long as she doesn’t shit and piss everywhere and doesn’t chew any of my shit, or try to attack me, I’ll let you keep her.”

“You were just holding a fucking gun to her head, Taehyung. Please let me rehouse her. My friend Baley will take her. All I gotta do is leave her in the cafe with a note— I have the keys. I’ll even let you write the fucking note yourself and we can go...” It was significantly getting harder to speak, now that your airways were irritated and your unsteady emotions were only making it worse.

You had already accepted your fate, but had a twinge of hope left that he’d at least hear you out on that request. His features had softened into a crestfallen display of guilt, and remorse. But your faith in him shattered all over again when he stubbornly shook his head and reached for the gun again. You were just about to throw another fit until he pulled the magazine out and showed it to you.

It was empty, until he pocketed it and pulled out a fully-loaded one and clipped it into place, before putting it back in the holster.

He tricked you, and although it was still pretty fucking evil, you were relieved. He never intended to shoot her and wouldn’t have been able to, even if his finger applied enough pressure on the trigger. But you were still very much in the midst of an abduction, and you still hated this man for what he was doing to you now.

“Why are here?” You croaked.

“To come get you and our new pet,” he announced, faking the enthusiasm before reinforcing his glare. “I’m... incredibly pissed about the fact that abandoned me.. but even more so offended by the negligence to stay updated.”

His eyes then caught the flash of a blue light at your ear. Your hearing aid was dying and faintly peeping in your ear. The remembrance had his entire demeanor shift to a sullen one, like a switch.

“But at the same time—“ his voice had fallen into a lower pitch, almost to the point of being a whisper as he stepped closer and easily molded his hands around your face. You suddenly felt fragile, but not in a way that made you giddy, like it use to. Now, you had to swallow down the bile in your throat and fight against the nausea as his suddenly lips came near.

“—It’s really hard take that out on you, when I can’t even blame you for it. But It’s been three fucking years, honey. Three. How could you not even have enough concern for my well being, to not even send a fucking post card? Did you really think you‘d never see me again, and that you had snuck away from me? I knew what you were doing, and where you were going before you even boarded your fucking flight.”

“You’re suppose to be in jail. I thought you were letting me go.”

“First of all, you didn’t even know the original plan to think that it had failed. All my charges have been dropped and the suspicion of my involvement dismissed. Namjoon has been found guilty and is now serving that sentence, like I had initially plotted from the beginning. You never knew shit to fucking assume anything!”

You glared at him despite the jolt that came with his drastic notch in volume, and not your tongue as he went on.

“But I did allow you to leave the country, but only to give you space and to let you touch base with... whatever the fuck it is that you still find valuable here. I didn’t think I’d have to clarify the circumstances of your stay, but for you to not even reach out.. and the fact you got some shitty, minimum wage job on top of it all, when you still have access to the saving account I’ve put in your name.. You really thought we were over? You haven’t even checked the news articles to see any updates on the case. I’ve been out for a week!”

He was still holding your face but his hands were shaking and the pressure was increasing again. He always pulls back and regains control over his temper before inflicting harm, but it’d be foolish to not expect him to one day lose that control. He’s hurt you on ‘accident’ before. He’s slaughtered many people, more than you’ll ever know to keep count. Nothing is sacred.

But now, you are a lot more contempt and able to tolerate the fear of him hurting you on impulse, being as Sweetpea was out of harms way and no longer in the room. You were still shaking though and had closed your eyes, bracing for it. But the jerk of shock only came when his suddenly lips covered your’s, and Jungkook finally backed away.

The kiss only lasted about three solid seconds before he pulled back, and was heavily panting through his nose. You dared to look up and caught a glimpse of the physical pain marring his features. His eyes had gone watery and his jaw began ticking like a time bomb, nostrils flaring and chest rising. He pressed his forehead against your’s and snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, trying to fight off his own sobs and choking on them more and more with each second.

“You hate me.. you haven’t even missed me.” His voice was so thickened by his emotions that it deepened the natural richness he already had, making it sound contorted and almost inhuman. A tear dropped down his nose bridge and hit your quivering lips, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fight back the heart wrenching burn it inflicted on you.

How could you still feel anything for this man? It can’t be. It just fucking can’t be..

But it was. You were so bewildered and petrified by the oncoming sympathy that it stunned you into a froze state of shock. He kissed you again, thinking it was a show of fear for own safety— and he was right to interpret the fear, but it was with different cause. He was steadily conjuring up feelings that you wished you could’ve watched burn, like you had intended to do with the rose your bus driver gave you. But here you were, heart bleeding for him.

You still didn’t reciprocate the kiss but it brought on more involuntary anguish.. you cried harder and so did he, and as he leaned your head back to kiss at your neck, you stared in perplexing awe at the gigantic bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand.

“It’s okay. I‘ve missed you too fucking much to punish you now.” He calmed, and took a good 30 seconds to regain his composure. There was still a groggy undertone in his next words, but once again, he was back in his domineering mindset. “But I ain’t cutting you that much slack.”

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you back, straight into Jungkook for the nth time. He heatedly wiped at his eyes and stepped back, and it was the first time you took in how much more muscular and rigid he’d become over the years.

Before, he was a lot more slender and you’re certain that the very shirt he’s wearing now use to be at least 2 sizes too big on him before.. however, the black silk was skin-tight and clinging to the humps of his biceps, and straining around the buttons between his pectorals. His skin was more pale than ever before but now you could see a tattoo curving along his temple, arcing aside the edge of his pierced brow. The word that was written in elegant, cursive writing made your heart palpitate and your stomach twist even more.

Honey. That was your signature endearment. That was the name you’d given him in place of your real one the very night he met you, and asked for it.

This crazy motherfucker really is obsessed with you. How he can lie to you, deceive you, punish you and drive you fucking bonkers and stalk you down only in the act of what he calls love.. and for it to actually be a form of true—albeit dangerous love, was beyond you.

The scripture on his handsome, albeit matured face distracted you for a few seconds. You snapped out of it when Jungkook suddenly hauled you up by the midsection and slammed you down on the bed, pinning his hand down between your shoulder blades and rendering you defenseless.

“What are you doing? Taehyung! Please! Get him off of me!”

“If I could trust you to stay still, I would.” His voice was neutral again, despite a offhanded sniff. You struggled to look back, but it was no use as he was standing out of view.

“Stay still for what?”

“Do you still have your ring?” He asked instead, ignoring you.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. Now tell me—“

“Told you she kept it,” Jungkook finally spoke— and just like it was back then, it was a very rare occurrence for when he did speak on your behalf. That’s another thing nobody else dared to do, unless asked. But knowing that he was the one stalking you for Taehyung made you all the more disturbed with him.

“Fucking creep. You’re hurting me!” you screamed at him, and he had the audacity to increase pressure. Tae said nothing, nor did he stop his friend from retaliating.

“I also know about your little affair with your coworker. Since when did you start swinging both ways?”

“What are you talking about?” You growled, and he only snorted in response.

“She knows you like her. She knows you stare at her ass every time she bends over and that you bend over on purpose to make her look at yours. She knows you like it when she slaps it.”

You, one again, went unmoving.

Jeon Jungkook is her fucking boyfriend.

“What does Jk even stand for?”

“Jackson. But he doesn’t like to be called Jackie, and you know how I am about nicknames. So I call him JK.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Jungkook. You leave her alone. Tae, don’t you let him—“

“Don’t you worry about me.”

“BALEY?!”

Baley walked into view, an unreadable expression on her face. The mere realization of what was happening finally over filled your mental tolerance and you brain suddenly launched you away from reality.

The beach. You were at the beach with your cousins, all of you a little over the age of 18. You were on spring break your senior year in highschool and talking about the future. Graduation. Prom. College~

“She’s zoned out.” Baley said, and Jungkook finally let go. You were indeed paralyzed and had completely dissociated, talking to yourself. Taehyung, with a fully-loaded syringe in his hand, leaned over to look at your face. Your pupils were dilated, eyes stargazing in general, lips softly moving as you babbled nonsense. He hated knowing that it was coming to this, but he swore he’d earn your forgiveness.

“I’m gonna get your ear fixed.. or at least get you a better device. We’re gonna be okay. We’re so fucking rich now, I don’t even know what to do with all our money— only to turn it into more. I won’t have to work as much. We can get married, have the best fucking honey moon we can imagine. We can get started on a family. I’ll win your dog over, too. I promise.”

He sank the needle into your bicep, and you didn’t even flinch. Only blinked in rhythm as a tear fell.

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.” You incoherently muttered, having said that to your friend, Jessica, on the beach.

It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. Whatever memory you were reliving at the moment, was quite sometime before you actually began your classes for such profession. He bent down and kissed your cheek one last time as he injected the entirety sedation serum into your system and pulled it out. But you were oblivious to it all.

“I think I’m smart enough...”

”You’re very book smart, baby. But you’re probably gonna drop out after three semesters and become a bar tender at a strip club, because you’re not fit to be a homicidal investigator. You’re too soft.”

“I’m not..”

“You sure?”

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.”

“Well, you’re gonna become my wife before you become anything else.”

“Ew, don’t even play like that. You’re my cousin.”

“Jeez..” Baley muttered. “You really have driven her a little bat-shit, huh? This is way more disturbing than I anticipated—“

“Babe, lets go sit in the car. Come on,” Jungkook hurried, pulling her out of the room.

Taehyung continued to whisper sweet nothings into your deafened ear, but the last night you heard before it all went blank was the perfect, bittersweet saying that bidded you goodbye for the night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey.”

[thefamilycryptid]

Analyzing Miraculous Ladybug, Episode 1: An Analysis of the Love Square

My friends on discord found out I like analyzing people as both a way to ensure people cant hurt me and as a way to figure out what kind of gift they would like, so they asked me to analyze some of the things in the Miraculous Ladybug Series no clue how many parts of this I’ll do so submit me asks and I’ll work on them :D

@username8746489 asked me my opinion on the Love Square, more specifically if I thought it was healthy or not.

The short version of my answer would be no, I do not believe the Love Square - as the show portrays it - is a healthy relationship. Now I see you Adrinette stans about to reblog this claiming ‘its true love’ but think about it like this; yes they have the possibility to be an amazing ass-kicking couple but their writing is horrid. Lets dissect them individually so we can comprehend how their relationship would function in reality.

Marinette is a canonical stalker, we witness with several times, from Marinette breaking into Adrien’s household (that most likely has a high security system due to the Agreste’s influence) on several occasions.

And instead of intervening and stopping her “bff’s” toxic behavior so she doesn't get arrested later in life Alya enables her behavior and offers her more ideas on how to get with the person she’s ‘meant to be with’. 

As mentioned before she broke into Adrien's house and even went through his locker to steal his phone over nothing more than an embarrassing voice message. She also harassed Kagami because she liked Adrien, and caused her akumatization after calling a fencing match (keep in mind the fact that this is Mari’s first day doing fencing and she barely know’s the rules) in her crushes favor even thought it was obviously a tie. 

She also constantly berates Chat Noir, who - as we already know - is Adrien, if you cannot love all aspects of someone, even the messy and  chaotic sides then you should not be in a relationship. Now this can be justified by the fact that Marinette doesn’t know Adrien is Chat Noir, but it is also no excuse for the way she treats he partner, constantly berating him for every little mistake he makes and treating him like a tasteless sidekick. I get that this is a show about girl power but Ladybug and Chat Noir are supposed to be equals to keep the Creation and Chaos thing in balance right?

And then there is the thing with the pictures, I would understand having one or two pictures of your crush (or maybe more if you are close friends and have taken several photo’s together) but none of the ones in her room are actual photo’s of him, they’re just cut outs from magazine covers Adrien is the center piece of. This isn't anything outright criminal, but it is very odd that instead of making more personal photo’s of him to hang up (maybe them having fun or on a hang out with friends) she chooses to hang up photos of him in his ‘actor mask’.

Now the photo’s are a bit odd but nothing crazy, but what is crazy is the fact she has his whole fucking schedule in her room, like first of all where the fuck did she get it, follow up question why the fuck does she have it. This is extremely alarming and could possibly lead to a court case in reality if someone (like Gabriel or Natalie) were to learn of its existence, Marinette would have a permanent black spot on her record if she didn’t end up being sued (or maybe even arrested) for her actions.

I could bring up plenty more points here such as when she dug through his trash and responded to a poem he had disposed of (then broke into his house to deliver), how she cant even hold a proper conversation with him without foaming from the mouth (something she admits to during the ‘steal Adrien’s phone’ moment), how everything she knows about him most likely comes from A. stalking B. the internet/gossip magazines or C. Alya telling her, how she told Alya to stop taking photos of Adrien unless she sent them to her, and that she confessed her love to him on the anniversary of the day his mother went missing.

But thats enough about Marinette lets move onto Adrien.

Now Adrien has a bit more of an excuse for his less than ideal behavior, he was isolated his whole life and the few relationships he did witness (Chloe and His's Parents) were probably not the best seeing as Gabriel has a tenancy to neglect his child in favor of work it wouldn’t be too surprising if we learned that he neglected his wife as well which was why her condition worsened until she was unsavable and the fact that Aubrey cannot remember her own daughter’s name.

He probably grew up watching rom-coms where the lead love interest bullied/blackmailed/harassed the girl into a relationship and they got married in the end and everything was always ok with no repercussions for their behavior.

Plus Gabriel looks like the type to give the 'its legal if you dont get caught' advice for all the wrong reasons, that accompanied by Chloe ( and later Lila) constantly draping themselves over him like fucking skin shawls, leads to this kid probably having no clue what consent is. 

So far he hasn't done anything too drastic for me to fully pull apart and wack with a stick minus the over-the-top flirting, but a lot of boys his age flirt so thats fine so as long as he doesn't touch Ladybug in a non-consensual way he's mostly ok in my book. 

All-in-all they would be 100% better people if A) They were with other people B) They seek help for their issues or C) They spoke to one another like normal people, until this is shown in the show I deem it a toxic ship.

(Note: Before you come on my case about there being less for Adrien, please keep in mind that Marinette is the main character of this series not him so of course there would be more to dissect about her. We are walked through her daily life, so we see every misdeed and every creepy stalker-ish moment, while we only see Adrien without her a few times, almost all of which are him transforming, or doing something that with offer a chance for Mari to shoot her shot. Please also keep in mind that this isn’t my entire opinion on the matter, I love the characters but I hate their writing, I also encourage to formulate your own opinions on the matter.)

(note for people who may want to ask for analysis’s, please remember I am just a human and I’m not 100% used to typing out whole paragraphs on fictional stuff and my brain tends to wander a lot, this was written during my ‘big brain hours’ sorry if your request isn’t as well done as you would like it to be)

[djchika]

Alex Appreciation Week Day 5: wanna go for a ride (smut/fluff) | music

(aka a snipper from what appears to be a Pretty Woman AU)

-

When Alex left Roswell for the last time, he’d prepared for a life destitute. Possibly a hand to mouth existence, but one that wasn’t bound by his dad’s rules. Surrounded by found family and good friends. 

What happened was the opposite. Bank was all Alex had. No one he called family, barely any friends. Just a shit load of money from a dead father who forgot to remove his estranged son from his will. 

Funny how life worked out. 

- 

Manes security was the crown of the Manes empire. It had been built on his father’s unwavering, paranoid insistence that the human race needed to defend themselves. Against what exactly? Alex was never sure. No one else knew either, but they still bought into the belief. 

The company started with simple security solutions that branched out to tech which led to multibillion-dollar government contracts. His brothers were all happily ensconced in the family business while Alex had jumped ship the moment he could. 

Or so he thought. 

- 

“What the fuck do you mean he left it to me?” 

“Technically he left it to his sons, but Flint signed away everything to do with the company when he started his own business, Gregory insists he’s retired, and after his breakdown Clay gave Gregory special power attorney and Gregory’s saying Clay doesn’t want it either.” 

“Well, I don’t want it! Jim, are you hearing yourself? I can’t take over my father’s company.” 

“Your father had the entire board of trustees under his thumb and he kept a lot of secrets. Without one of you to figure things out they’re going to strip it for parts and sell to the highest bidder. You might not care for your father’s legacy, but the Manes Group cuts a hundred thousand paychecks across several businesses. That’s a lot of jobs on the line.” 

Fuck. 

- 

That had been five years ago. Five long fucking years of going from a quiet life running a small music shop near the home town to living full time in New York city. 

Nothing about his new life vaguely resembled his life in Roswell.  

Well, except for Kyle Valenti. 

“It’s two in the fucking morning. Go home,” Kyle ordered from where he was leaning against Alex’s office door. 

“Should I even point out how hypocritical that is considering you’re here too?” 

“That’s because you’re a slave driver.”

Kyle was lying through his stupid perfect teeth. Alex worked hard to make sure they were one of the best employers in the country thankyouverymuch.

Besides, Kyle wasn’t even technically his employee. Their firm, Valenti, Valenti and Son had been the company’s firm even before Alex took over. 

“I’m going home after this. Leave me alone.” 

“As your legal counsel I highly recommend sleep before signing any of those.” Kyle said, nodding at the stack of papers on Alex’s desk. “I’ll be back Wednesday. I already had Jill pencil me in to your afternoon so we can start discussion on the Long deal.” 

Alex clicked opened his calendar. “My Monday’s surprisingly free we can do it then.” 

Kyle walked over to Alex’s desk, leaning down just so he could point at Alex’s laptop monitor obnoxiously. “That’s because Monday is the day before Christmas Eve and you declared it a company holiday.” 

“Right,” Alex said, pushing Kyle away. “See you Wednesday, then.” 

“Are you sure—” 

“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want to go home with you for Christmas. Yes, I will be fine spending Christmas by myself. Asking me a dozen times isn’t going to change my answer.” 

Alex appreciated Kyle’s concern, but going back home provided complications he didn’t want to deal with at the moment. 

With a sigh, Kyle straightened and started towards the door. “Fine. I’ll see you in four days. You also have four days to get me the present you forgot to buy me so you won’t feel bad that I already left your present at your place.” 

Presents. Shit. He remembered signing off a list from Jill, but Kyle always insisted that didn’t count. Maybe he could get him something online. 

Seeming to read his mind, Kyle turned and pointed a finger at him. “You better make an effort of going to a store for me, jerk.” 

That was how Alex ended up asking the driver to see if there was a shop anywhere that was still open. 

That was also how Alex literally fell into Michael Guerin. 

- 

“You looking for something? Wanna go for a ride?” 

The familiar low drawl had Alex’s heart beating wildly in his chest. He turned quickly, misjudged his center of gravity and only avoided a complete pratfall because Michael’s arms were suddenly around him keeping him steady. 

The shock he was feeling was clearly mirrored in Michael’s face. 

“Alex?” 

- 

The last time he’d seen Guerin was the last of summer after high school. He was being shipped off to West Point, while Michael was supposed to be on going to UNM on a scholarship. 

They’d been friends in the way that two queer kids in a small dessert town naturally gravitated towards each other. Something had bubbled beneath the surface but they’d left it to simmer. Neither wanting to risk the tentative solace they found in each other.  

A long series of almosts that never culminated to anything. 

Alex had graduated, gone on a couple of tours, got blown up and opted for an honorable discharge. 

Michael had apparently graduated, found out working with any sort of system didn’t fit him, and chose to travel the country in his truck, picking up odd jobs where he could. 

When he meant pick up. He meant pick up. 

- 

Michael gave a low whistle when they entered Alex’s apartment. It was disproportionally huge for someone living alone, but it had come with the inheritance and he’d never gotten around to looking for a new place. 

"Always knew you were loaded. I didn’t think you were ‘bring out the guillotines’ rich.” 

“I’m not. Or I wasn’t. This was all my dad’s. I’m always afraid I’m going to find a room I didn’t know existed and find out someone’s been living there the whole time,” Alex admitted. 

Michael smirked as he made himself comfortable on the leather couch. “Still not a fan of horror movies?” 

“I learn from them. There’s a difference,” Alex corrected as he slipped off his tie, coat and shoes already discarded. “Drink?” 

“Yeah, why not.” 

Alex poured them each a glass, watching as Michael surreptitiously took in the rest of the room. He wondered what Michael assumed of him based on it. He’d never gotten around to looking for a new place and he’d definitely never gotten around to redecorating. Nothing outside of the bedroom was his aside from the baby grand he’d gotten himself as a gift a couple of years ago. 

“I see your horror movie education never taught you not to let strangers into your home,” Michael said when Alex handed him a glass of whisky, neat. 

“You’ve always been strange. Hardly a stranger.” 

He sat down next to Michael, taking a long drink from his glass as Michael did the same. The liquid flowed smoothly down his throat, warming his body quickly. It also served to quiet the butterflies that were fluttering oddly in his chest. 

“You never know what’s going on in people’s heads.” Michael smirked, eyes roving over Alex’s body. 

Back in high school, with his bad boy reputation, the almost trademark smirk had been charming and innocently dangerous. Now, the slow smirk was backed with a confidence in his sexuality that was outright devastating.

Or it would have been if Alex didn’t see right through him.

“Are the lines part of the package?” 

“Depends, is it working for you? 

Alex raised an eyebrow before downing the rest of his drink. Michael seemed to take that as an invitation, moving both their glasses to the coffee table before straddling Alex smoothly. 

It was his teenage fantasy come true. Michael was different, the cut of his jaw sharper, a dark beard where there used to be smooth skin, but the warmth of his eyes was still the same. The pull that tugged at Alex’s chest just as strong. 

“Do you have rules against kissing?” 

Michael shook his head with a laugh. “That’s not a thing.” 

The kiss Michael gave Alex was surprisingly soft. A tentative press of lips on lips that belied Michael’s previous confidence. Alex tongue darted out, licking against the seam of Michael’s lips until they opened up for him. He tasted like whisky, like the first burst of summer rain. 

It barely lasted a minute before Michael pulled back a little, eyes searching Alex’s as if to make sure he was okay. 

Unwilling to examine the sudden knot behind his ribcage at that look, Alex surged against him kissing Michael slow and deep until they were both gasping for air. 

“Sure this is a good idea?” Michael asked breathily even as his hands roamed, touching Alex’s chest, his neck, his hair.  

“Nothing but a business deal, right?” 

“Hmmm,” Michael’s hands moved to the buttons of Alex’s shirt, undoing them one by one. “Preferences? Hard nos?” He leaned in, sucking kisses into Alex’s jaw and down his neck.  

Alex groaned when Michael’s mouth latched on to his pulse point, sucking gently. He could feel himself getting harder, Michael’s own erection pressed up again him. The sweet friction was making it hard to concentrate on what Michael was saying. 

“You’re not going to make me sign a release are you?” he managed to ask finally. For all he knew there might be paperwork involved. He’d never actually slept with a hooker before. 

The laugh that rumbled out of Michael’s chest, drew a smile on Alex’s face. “No, but it’s gonna cost depending on what you want.”’ 

“Consider me your booking for the night then double it.”

He didn’t even care what that amount was. Michael was worth it. Using his father’s money to pay for him was just a fuck you cherry on top. 

Michael smiled, slow and filthy. “Works for me.” 

(to be continued....)

[brainless-but-thats-all]

tw talking abt doctors, experimentation (not in detail but a mention), mention of deaths and reanimation

Justkis a very odd character to look at from an outside view. they insist they dont want or need anyone in their lives because of how they were raised with no one besides the trolls hired to be their “friend” but they really just pushed justkis lusi’s views further (bc of the threat on their lives) showing them the world is definitely what they were taught and they dont want to be a part of it. so they kept everything inwards from a young age and onwards and eventually faked their death by burning all pages of themselves from the records and anything at all claiming they existed

at 4 sweeps they realized they didn’t want to be the heiress because of the whole defeating the empress only to have to change everything personally and then wait for a new empress thingy. but also that’s a lot of pressure. and they hated being called princess or heiress. they hated how often people feared them. tbh they really just didnt want to exist or be perceived. not only that but turns out their very first ancestor doesn’t want them to exist either. so they’re like bye

bc theyre a witch of blood they simply altered everyone’s perception that Pennsu had been there for years and was the heiress when in actuality Pennsu died centuries ago. justki also buried those files so they could never get caught.

when working for the rebellion the rebellion would dump the bodies of the fallen into their hands and they would simply go yeah. theyre dead. (brings them back to life at their home so theyre considered dead to the system and they can live life in eternal bliss)  they went underground (literally) with enough money to keep their 984 people 175 floor hive thriving for the next hundreds of years w a back up bank acc. not that money is really important here but idk man. they had the food connections they needed.

its... kinda odd to think about either way. they don’t want a family but still crave the interaction, still wanting to be apart of one. they use subtle little things to show they care about each of them even if some of them have awful views (682 is super into casteism :/ which justkis trying so hard to curb but theyre like the uncle who wont stop talking politics at family reunions) and a lot of the trolls in the underside simply know how Justki works.

They let Kitset (534) keep pepsi in the upstairs kitchen because someone keeps drinking all of their cans in the lower kitchens. Kiamae (1) knows Justki likes to be tucked into bed even if they fight to not go to bed in the first place. Sayram (840) knows Justki doesn’t like super sweet things and is constantly pushing themselves to do everything all at once so he leaves little dishes and snacks in their labs so they don’t forget. Reaper (486) knows Justki doesn’t like to be approached on their right side. So they make sure to go to the left side. Taonee (175) is someone Justki sees themselves in. dismissive, doesn’t want to talk to you unless it benefits them, hates to ask for help. So they do their best to make sure he gets included. And in turn Taonee trusts them (only them and reaper) because of that understanding they have.

we haven’t even mentioned the grubs yet either. the grubs were a total accident at first because justki was trying to make a limeblood. a lizard ended up in the box along w some soap that hadnt dried from beforehand use and it diluted not only the blood left in there but a whole different troll popped out. Jaakoo. half lizard man... and then they were like well if this can make a troll what about this? (tries it 13 more times) and then they got really attached to them. Justki wanted to see these little guys flourish “for science” they claim but... they really did love them.

which is why when the grubs don’t make it they become devastated. They blame themselves for it and although they know there was nothing they could’ve done they forever think its their own fault. That they fucked up. but that’s a gifted kid isn’t it? everything has to be perfect. And if it doesn’t go perfect because of odds they have no control over It’s Still, And Always Will Be, Their Own Fault.

[crimeronan]

i wanna hear more about your headcanon of declan as autistic (no pressure! only if u want to)

oh ariana we’re really in it now

not all of these bullet points are specifically related to autism bc this just turned into a post about how fond i am of declan.  however.  autistic declan lynch rights here we go

speech

declanisms

really, keeping a list of action-based conversation starters to meet your goals that all sound like something a caricature of a high-level business executive would say... honey

memorizing clever turns of phrase and the cadence of storytelling

and refusing to ever use this love of language in public lest it make him vulnerable or ruin anything he’s built

having practiced regulating his vocal tone and inflection to make them both as normal and as free of personality as possible

being unable to modulate his vocal tone and inflection when he’s Not actively concentrating on regulating them - speaking impulsively from a place of upset, getting excited about things, etc

physicality

having also practiced his physicality to appear as unthreatening and unobtrusive as possible

mirroring strangers, casual acquaintances, criminal associates

actively schooling himself not to talk with his hands; natural storytelling comes with gesturing and physical involvement

having pleasant conversations and being pleasant to exist around while managing to have absolutely no friends

anxious stomachaches

nervous tics

refusing to allow himself comfortable clothing or a comfortable living space despite seeming to want these things

deciding he can have nice shoes, as a treat (doesn’t have anything to do with neurodivergence i just think it’s cute)

internal emotions

Everything Is Horrible, All The Time, But That’s Fine Because That’s Just How Life Is For Me And I’ve Accepted It

deeply unhappy, deeply bored, deeply exhausted, deeply terrified

given up on dreams and ambitions because they will never be accessible to someone like him (one of those things that in-narrative isn’t autism-related, but sure can be a hashtag relatable feel)

happiness, excitement, joy, any positive emotions are all “dangerous” because they represent a loss of control

zero to one hundred IMMEDIATELY in terms of anger, manic excitement, terror, misery, self-flagellation

constantly self-regulating, compartmentalizing, putting aside, and refusing to act on emotions despite feeling Incredibly Deeply

anxiety

obsessing, catastrophizing, making contingency plans, exploring bad outcomes, regretting past actions literally every single second of every day

aforementioned physical anxiety manifestations

resigned to ronan and matthew’s eventual deaths even when things are Mostly Okay

convinced that if and when something happens to ronan or matthew, it will be his fault

none of these things are autism-related specifically, there’s just something in his repetitive thoughts / methods of self-soothing / ways of internalizing trauma that's..... a feeling

child development

one of those kids who would have been called “precocious”

had developed a system for watching/protecting ronan and trying to convince ronan not to dream things by age five

specific interests in things deemed uninteresting or unimportant

didn’t engage in the same play behavior most kids his age would

got overwhelmed and cried over liking a gift too much

consciously aware of niall’s disdain for him, aurora’s ephemeral nature, and ronan’s dangerousness to himself at age five

some of these things are definitely exacerbated or fully caused by a childhood of emotional neglect and endangerment; autism reading integrates with this rather than replacing it.  i strongly feel declan would still have been a “precocious” child with a healthy happy parental upbringing as well

sense of responsibility

extremely stressed by any situation he can’t control

will attempt to control situations beyond his jurisdiction to minimize this

studies so many parenting books after technically becoming ronan and matthew’s caretaker because he has no frame of reference for parenting and does not trust his instincts

“if you want something done right, do it yourself” a life motto by declan lynch

“everything is my fault, all the time” a life motto by declan lynch

“except when it’s dad’s or ronan’s fault” a pretty fair addendum by declan lynch

mental stimulation

so unbelievably bored with his life situation

THRILLED any time he gets to play games or engage in clever conversation - seen a little in his “crime makes me feel alive” vibes, his back-and-forth banter with jordan

won’t let himself get engaged in things because passion feels unsafe

enjoys himself for about one hour of one single night and then immediately starts cracking to pieces about how living in a constant state of mental dissatisfaction is killing him slowly

somehow manages to be surprised by this turn of events

interests

he hides art he loves in a murder attic like a feral cat who refuses to eat in front of people. i don’t even need to get into this

absolutely immediately enchanted to the point of self-labeled stupidity by watching jordan paint

infodumping about art history

trading art interests with jordan bc he’s legitimately interested and excited by what she knows and feels passionate about

this entire post should just be the murder attic. declan oh my fucking god

aforementioned collecting of language he likes

the whole tyrian purple thing.  again.  declan oh my fucking god

emotional intimacy

craves emotional intimacy but is TERRIFIED of being known and/or being rejected

is convinced he can never and will never have emotional intimacy in his life

has all the stamina of a wet tissue in terms of keeping his emotional secrets when jordan cottons onto them

gets annoyed by relationships with people who want emotional connection but continues playacting through the motions of said relationships in the hopes of being less lonely

comforting people / expressing genuine care

declan attempted to dispense comfort.  “everybody dies, matthew”

i have to put attempted to dispense comfort on the list again.  oh my god.  to declan’s brain, emotional comfort is a vending machine that’s eaten ten dollars in a row and is now falling on him after he made the mistake of shaking it

declan regretted saying anything.  [immediately says the worst thing possible]

write your routine, ronan. now. now. write it. write it down. (because i’m worried you’re going to kill yourself but have no idea how to say that so i have to focus on concrete action.)

every time he’s tried to say “i’m worried about you” and instead gone “why are you inconveniencing me this way.” king

having no sense of how to communicate feelings or solve emotional conflicts through talking despite attempting to do these things frequently, AFTER STUDYING OUT OF BOOKS, to his detriment

preferring to take care of people silently and subtly through protecting them and making things easier for them, extremely similarly to how ronan does

irritability

constantly in a low level fugue state of annoyance

runs on caffeine and fumes

very thin patience for anyone else’s inability to stick to plans, manage time, regulate emotion, do their jobs, follow through on commitments, etc

the unceasing “i’m not unhappy. i’m not unhappy. i’m not unhappy” while at work screams of “i am in sensory/emotional hell all the time and checking slightly out of this plane to deal”

loses control all at once, when he does lose control

drains energy like a broken cellphone battery from the effort of combating misery, anxiety, mental overload, boredom, masking all thoughts and feelings

bonus content: parents

the actual in-universe reasons for these things aren’t related to neurodivergence as far as we know, but

growing up as the unfavored child whose interests are constantly ignored or shut down 

seeing your siblings get preferential treatment for no reason

being silenced or punished every time you express dissatisfaction or unhappiness or anger

being considered disposable

internalizing the idea that you’re a burden unless you’re worth something to others

that’s a real common lived realty for autistic ppl

bonus content: brothers

i read all three lynch brothers as being on the spectrum and all having different experiences with it

i read matthew as having had the inverse experience of declan, in which he flaps and stims and chews loudly and talks a mile a minute and expresses himself with excitement and passion and bouncing

& he has Not been punished for it or made to feel like it should be hidden

declan’s ferocious protectiveness of matthew is in many ways bc he wants to keep matthew from suffering the same way he has

differing autism spectrum experiences fit neatly into that

ronan and declan’s experiences are in some ways wildly different

in other ways, though

going zero to one hundred on the emotional spectrum, defaulting to anger to avoid fully feeling internal chaos, being unable to understand the other’s feelings or thought processes / making wildly incorrect conclusions about them, preferring to show feelings through action rather than words, struggling to translate genuine emotion into expression without coming across as a dick

they are Very Similar

declan and ronan do a lot of “dog growls at its own reflection” about this because neither of them is more furious than when they see their own perceived shortcomings in the other

i’m positive i’ve forgotten some things and also positive i have not communicated all of these thoughts as effectively as i would like but i have been typing this post for a thousand years.  here you go

[mego42]

1x07 Discussion Questions

My b! My b! I usually try to do these when the episode is fresh but instead I went to sleep, I am at peace with my priorities, tbh. As always, many thanks to @pynkhues​ for her time and energy putting these together and shout out to @foxmagpie​ for the assist. 

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

Lot of contenders, tbh. I really love the scene with Mary Pat when she puts together the (extremely transparent) bullshit that is the whole secret shopper scheme (I mean come on y’all, did you even try????), I love Ruby and Stan’s date (high five to Stan for coming through with my parks & rec reference, it’s nice to know there is one (1) man I can count on). The Annie and Greg bit is REALLY SWEET LEAVE ME ALONE. The god tier brio content, specifically The Grab Heard Round The World My Living Room and the Give Me A Name bit. Some classic Rio nonsense (do you think if we asked him to point to an egg he’d point to an apple?) Tyler and his “reeeeeeally fill out the surveys?” was, obvs, the best moment on the entire show. Anyway, one of those for sure.

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

The Boomer setting up Annie stuff always falls flat to me and idk exactly why? Like, individual pieces of it are great, Mae does EXCELLENT work post police station and when getting arrested in the first place but ultimately I find it fairly forgettable in the grand scheme of things.

3. Let’s talk about the secret shopper scheme! What do you think were the strengths of it? The flaws? Do you think it had longterm potential? Or was it always going to crash and burn?

I said this during the rewatch but I straight up blocked out the fact that all of the shoppers are hitting the same store on the same day (waving around upwards of $5k in cash???? no less???????) because my brain cannot comprehend how three women we’re supposed to believe are reasonably intelligent didn’t realize this was the stupidest, most transparently obvious, most short-sighted scheme in the entire world. 

I struggled with the sustainability of it a bit when I thought they were spreading their efforts around (they roped in A Lot of people, there are only so many Costcos in the Detroit metro area and waving around that much cash and then returning it all, again for cash, is uh, already p memorable) but I could deal with it when I thought they were spreading it around. Short-sighted, immediate solutions are a cornerstone of Beth’s brand, after all, but all of them at the same store at the same day???? Too much. I cannot. 

4. The girls spent their money in very different ways! Ruby on romancing Stan, Annie on clothes for her son, and Beth on jewellery for herself. What do you think this tells us about them and their arcs? Particularly coming off the back of Ruby’s conflict with Stan, Ben’s issues at school with clothes, and Beth leaving Rio her pearls?

Love these connects. The show’s got a pretty clearly defined and consistent visual/character motifs (this may or may not be the word I’m looking for, shut up) when it comes to depicting the girls priorities and motivations. You also see it reflected and reinforced with their repeated coping mechanisms throughout the show. Whenever bad stuff happens, Ruby goes home to Stan, Annie crawls into bed with Ben and we usually close with Beth either alone (ouch david) or connecting with Rio in some way (exhibit a: the aforementioned pearls). 

In all of the instances it comes back to the heart of their priorities:

Stan is Ruby’s number one, (which isn’t to say her kids aren’t a part of that, I think Stan is both himself in this sense while also representing her whole Hill family unit—TV is all about visual shorthand kids—but also it serves to illustrate that Ruby has something Beth and Annie do not: a true partner). 

Ben is at the root of everything Annie does, she makes choices based on not only his. well-being, but how he sees her and he has the most influence over how she sees herself and what actions she takes as a result of that.

Beth, on the other hand, is at a contrasting point. She’s done the devoted partner and mother thing (lowkey implied by the little bits and pieces we get of her and Annie’s childhoods to some degree more or less for her entire life) and is now putting herself first, her needs, her wants. Which isn’t to say she doesn’t give a fuck about her family, she waits until she’s got a fat stack of cash and they’re taken care of before splurging on a thing, but as a symbol I think the necklace pretty clearly illuminates that for whatever Beth tells herself, she’s building an empire for herself, bc she wants it, needing it is secondary.

5. Eddie’s arrest is arguably what sets us on a collision course with the finale! Do you think Eddie was loyal to Rio until the end? How much do you think he told Turner? And what sort of loyalty do you think Rio inspires in his boys? And why doesn’t it translate with the girls?

OF COURSE EDDIE WAS LOYAL TO THE END HE HAS CLEARLY DEMONSTRATED HE HAS SOME KIND OF CODE OF HONOR HOW DARE YOU SLANDER MY BOY LIKE THAT.

Tbh idk how to answer the loyalty question without more information from canon because the gang and how they operate, how they all came together, etc is pretty well shrouded in not-central-narrative-focus, though I think it’s been implied somewhat heavily that what’s going on with the girls is not standard operating procedure.

My personal headcanon for Eddie is tied up in my personal backstory for Rio and Mick that I started for my (lmao first) Mick POV fic. I gave Rio and Mick a friends since we were kids backstory and decided Eddie was a kid in their neighborhood, slightly younger then them, and always looked up to them/followed them around/thought they were cool. He ultimately got involved in crime because they did and they looked out for him and brought him up with them (which, you know, makes how it all turns out that much more tragic). Obvs, this is all just me and my tendency to imprint on random side characters and give them backstories. Let me live.

6. This episode introduces us to Mary Pat, who’s probably one of this show’s most complicated antagonists! What do you think of her generally? And could you have predicted her arc with Boomer and Turner?

I love her and I’m done lying to myself about it.

LISTEN, first off, Allison Tolman is great. Her line delivery is fantastic, she has a knack for subtly adding SO MUCH to every scene she’s in and uses her face and inflection and pauses exquisitely. Top notch comedic timing. Truly a gem.

Second, on a character level, the lady is in a bad spot and the girls basically gift-wrapped the circumstances and handed them to her like here is a present!!!!!!!!!!!! What was a struggling girl to do besides accept what was offered to her??????!!!!!!???

7. This episode features a very pivotal scene in terms of the Beth, Ruby and Annie dynamic. What starts as tension between Annie and Beth quickly pivots when Ruby criticises Beth and Annie leaps to her sister’s defence. What do you think this tells us about the dynamic between the girls as pairs and as a trio?

I am so!!!! curious!!!!!!! about the backstory that exists in the writers’ heads for Ruby and Annie (all three of them, really, but the bff and little sister having an independent friendship is of particular interest to me bc it isn’t something you, or I guess I, run into a lot) and how much of it was defined at this point vs how much it’s evolved/fluctuated as the show goes on. This fight pretty clearly illuminated that when it really comes down to it, it’s Beth and Annie vs Ruby which a) breaks my heart and b) isn’t totally a dynamic I think the show ultimately stuck with? Or maybe intentionally fluctuates? Idk this is a half-baked thought. Ask again later. 

8. Greg is the one who kisses Annie! Who do you think left who in that relationship, and/or what were the biggest issues in that relationship?

I feel like there’s pretty much no way Annie wasn’t the one that called things off with Greg. Not just because of how it plays out this time but because he’s got a kind of persistent yet also go with the flow attitude that makes me think he would absorb a lot in the name of making it work whereas Annie seems to have a pretty established history of cutting her losses and bailing when she hits her limit. Based on how fond they are of each other and how much affection they clearly still hold, I tend to assume they just grew apart as they grew up which makes it almost more complicated and tragic because it leaves all of the good stuff and just mixes it with the knowledge that it wasn’t enough. 

9. What did you think of Ruby’s sauce story? And what do you think it meant as a turning point for her arc?

I HATE THIS STORY SO MUCH USED BAND AIDS ARE GROSS ENOUGH ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT MIXING IN FOOD SERVICE AND MONTHS, MONTHS, OF MARINATION. I REFUSE TO TALK ABOUT IT. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

10. Knowing that Beth, Ruby and Annie’s system of paying Mary Pat off doesn’t work, do you think there was a way they could’ve handled her on their own that would’ve worked? Or do you think Rio’s intimidation (and potential murder) tactic was the only way out?

Idk maybe I’m just cynical, but I take trust no bitch to heart, they pretty well screwed themselves into a corner by being idiots. 

[purplesurveys]

962

Do you have a pair of Beat headphones? I used to have a pair. I mean it’s still around in my closet, but it’s completely broken now with the cable all given out and the cushion for the left ear has been missing for a while. I just don’t have the heart to throw it out because it was my absolute favorite pair of headphones that gave me good memories during a particularly shitty time in high school.

How was your week? A little better. I’ve gotten into the groove at work so I’m no longer shy when it comes to asking questions and giving inputs, and I’ve gained a better grasp of the workplace’s dynamic so it’s also been easier to communicate with people. Heavy life stuff is still around and it won’t be leaving for a while, but they were easier to ignore this week.

Are any of your electronics not working properly at the moment? Not really, but my phone’s charger cable recently stopped working. I have a backup that I’m using at the moment and while it’s able to charge my phone, it’s starting to fray and I’m not feeling too good about the wires that I’m starting to see hahaha. I just don’t know how to take care of my cables, guys. Anyway, this question made me paranoid so I took a few minutes to wrap a shit ton of electrical tape on the frayed area so I think it’s all good for now.

Are you excited to pick out your wedding dress one day? I like thinking about my wedding but I truthfully dread the wedding gown part. I’ve never been able to decide what look and style suits me best and I’ve just never been good at determining things like that. I like to imagine that I’d leave that bit to whoever my maid of honor will be, because I’d definitely prize a second opinion more than my own.

When was the last time you felt relieved? Yesterday, 6 PM when I exited the last Google Meet for the day. It was a Friday night and it meant my work week was over :)) I mean I love what I do, but Friday nights will always hit differently.

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? I wouldn’t say it bothers me but covers are definitely a hit or miss for me, with way more misses than hits. Nothing wrong with acts putting their own spin on an already existing song, but I’m personally the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” type when it comes to music.

What brand of chapstick do you use? I don’t use any mainly because I’m bound to lose them within a week. Same goes for other care products.

Do you really think someone could be perfect? No. Everyone has their flaws and that should be okay to acknowledge.

When was the last time you cried? Wednesday, I think. It’s been three days! I’d count that as an achievement. But idk, my sadness comes in waves so I shouldn’t be celebrating too early. I’m sure I’ll feel a pang soon and be crying again over the weekend.

What’s a food that you like every once in awhile but not often? Cake. Too sweet and rich; I wouldn’t enjoy eating it every day. What letter is the song you’re listening to under? Not listening to music, but I have a YouTube video on.

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? 60s would be the lesser evil, I guess. I would NOT want to live through Martial Law in the 70s...I originally wasn’t even going to go with 60s because I think the world was a bit chaotic at the time, but I think my country was mostly unaffected by the political/cultural things happening then so it’s whatever.

Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? I don’t actively seek them out but it feels nice when someone likes me enough to extend their arms out to me for a hug. I haven’t been hugged for a while and I feel kinda empty.

Do your socks say anything on them? I think some of my socks have the brand name on them but that’s it.

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. AMC.

Have you found out who your true friends are? For now, yes.

Gray or Grey? I use both spellings for no particular context. I simply like changing it up lol.

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? LOL of course not. And I’m very picky when it comes to concerts that I choose to attend anyway, so I doubt I would’ve bought any tickets in the last six months even without Covid unless it was for Paramore or Beyoncé.

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? Nope, but everyone was hyping that movie up when it came out. It never really looked like my thing < Yeah pretty much. I feel like it’s such a teenage-y movie so I was never drawn to it. I also think it would be too triggering for my depression, so I’ve felt wary about checking both book and movie out.

Is there something you’d fall apart if you didn’t have? One of my biggest fears is to end up alone, so I always have to have some form of a support system to fall back into. I would be very lost if I didn’t have at least one person to rely on.

How many weddings have you been to? I can think of four off the top of my head. I was either a flower girl or a junior bridesmaid for all of those.

When you smile, are you confident? Most times I am; I like to smile. But sometimes I smile just to fake it and avoid any questions.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yesss, all the time. I’ve always been all about following the rules and I’ve never seen the appeal in breaking them. That makes me sound boring but at least I’ve never gotten in serious trouble lol.

Was the weather beautiful today? For me it is, but only because I like the rain and cloudy weather. Others might find it bleak and sad, but I feel right at home.

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yeah, all year long.

Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? If I had my dream modern/brutalist home, grey would be soooo fucking perfect for the bedroom. 

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? I’m open to it, but I don’t think it’ll be a good match for my black hair as both are darker shades as it is. If I could dye my hair I’d pick lighter colors like green or even go all the way to blonde.

Have you ever gone to a private school? Yeah, from kindergarten all the way to high school. Private schools here typically give a better quality of education and they don’t give off the for-lazy-spoiled-kids vibe that I always hear from private schools in other countries, which makes them the norm for middle and upper-middle class families.

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? I have other favorite animated movies, but that doesn’t stop me from loving Finding Nemo. :) I would always tune in for the whole thing if it were on.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? I had to wear one in my first school, but I didn’t need one for college.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? No TV where I am. I think my parents are watching a movie on their TV, but it’s on Netflix rather than a channel.

Does your house have security cameras? It does not.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? Eh, I guess it sounds fine but I’d rather have a pint of ice cream. I think that fits better with the weather and the mood that I’m in today.

What’s your favorite exercise workout? My weight training class last year was a lot of fun. I always felt dead after every session haha but I definitely felt healthier. I wish the semester had gone on longer just for that one class.

What’s your favorite thing to do? Lol I love doing many different things < Same lmao this question is so vague??? My favorite thing to do these days is binge-watch Rhett and Link content, but I like doing so many other things too.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? I was with Gabie that day and we went to a local art museum, as well as to a restaurant that she had wanted to take me to.

Does your local Walmart have benches in them to rest? We don’t have Walmarts.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? I never had stuffed animals. Well I was given a few of them as gifts, but I was never into them and they always ended up being owned by my sister.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Not even think about it. Just show them that I couldn’t care less, lol.

Are you good at swimming? I can do a few strokes and am pretty good at treading, but I'm prone to panic-kicking when I can tell that the water is too deep.

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet is such a pain in the ass. Shouldn’t even have to be an issue in 2020 anymore.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Cat-called, whistled at, winked at, lunged at. One good thing about this lockdown is that I haven’t had to deal with men as much as I used to. Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Well I only have one layer of bedsheet and it’s the one that covers up the mattress, so it’s tucked in by default. I have a blanket to cover me up when I’m cold.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? I find a few videos to watch as that tends to make me feel sleepy the quickest.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? I used to have a tumbler/water bottle in college but I forgot it at the gym one day and when I came back for it, somebody already stole it :( It was such a handy water bottle because it kept my water cold all day, so it sucks that I lost it. I’m planning to buy the same model again soon.

Are you afraid that one day you might get cancer? It doesn’t really run in my family save for one grand-aunt who had cancer, so I’m not too worried. But I’ve accepted the fact that it is at least a possibility.

Are you a fast or slow walker? I like being in the middle. Slow walkers are annoying so I try not to be one, and walking fast just reminds me of my mom and how quickly she walks at malls when she’s supposed to be spending time with her family lol.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? No. They all fit me just fine.

Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? Eghhh, it really does. I know it shouldn’t but it really does. I just feel like it’s so invasive and it gives me a lot of secondhand embarassment.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? Not really. I like staying safe with my hair. The most daring thing I’ve done with it is get bangs tbh, and I don’t plan on going any further than that.

When’s your birthday? April 21st.

What age do you look forward to reaching? I don’t feel that way about any age. Whenever I reach ultimate satisfaction and security will be a good enough age for me.

Name a state that begins with the letter M. Minnesota.

What’s the first thing you do after a car accident? Think about how to tell my parents. D:

What do you use to get rid of bad breath? Brush my teeth, drink water.

What exercise do you hate the most? Pull-ups.

What do you do at a party? Drink, socialize, tell stories, eat allllllll the food ha.

[valehirvas]

Hi! I need help understanding what Is gender dysphoria from a transsexual perspective because I'm confuse at my own experiences and the doctors I've seen viewerd dysphoria as only wanting to/believing you are the opposite sex and nothing more

I’m not an expert on this obviously, all I’ve got is just my own experience.

For me, it’s primarily a strong desire and a feeling of “should be” about male sex characteristics. As a child, I would often cry in my bed looking forwards in my life thinking it was already over because I wasn’t a boy, not because being a girl to me was bad in itself - I didn’t view it as limitating or see myself as lesser in any shape or form, I just didn’t feel like my body was as it should have been and the thought of never physically becoming a boy was crushing to me. This came along with various stupid childish misadventures like trying to learn to pee like a boy to feel more comfortable: let’s just say that one ended up in a disaster. I also quite classically tried to explain to my mother how I felt - that I wasn’t like a “girl girl”, I was more a boy girl. Something like that.

I didn’t have social dysphoria at this stage, because I’m very privileged in the sense that my parents and most adults around me allowed me to be exactly who I was, and those who found me disagreeable and too boyish never explicitly made it a gender issue, so I was blissfully unaware of the idea that girls weren’t supposed to act the way I was acting. I was very much a tomboy, but I was never made to feel like this was a bad thing, it was just who I was. I was in a lot of minor trouble often because of how active and curious I was as a kid, but nothing worse than doing what other adventurous kids were getting up to. For example, we liked breaking into the sewer system to chase frogs. Our parents HATED it, for obvious reasons. Things like that. But these were hardly things that only boys got into, and my friend group was rather equally split between the sexes at the time, so yeah, no, my social dysphoria did not exist at this time.

With puberty, things got a lot rougher. It’s tough to tell how much of it was because of dysphoria and how much of it was because of abuse in my life; I was targeted by a school teacher who made my life hell and triggered my depression at the ripe old age of 11, and ever since things were just really difficult for me.

I was still struggling with wanting to be a boy; I only had male role models, only male ideals of what I wanted to grow up to be, in terms of media and idols. I desperately wanted facial hair. Meanwhile, I was being raised by a single mother, and my experience with men was dreadful, and puberty chased off my male friends so I was left living in an all-female bubble, pretty much. I didn’t feel separate from it, but I was certainly different. My friends went down a more traditionally feminine path while I was a clusterfuck of alternative fashion and obscure interests.

My biggest “oh” moment was when I was about 12 years old and for the first time approached my mom to buy my own set of clothes - I’d secretly wanted to dress up as one of the boys for a long time, but this was the first time I really got to try it out. Being a skater was in because this was the early 2000s, so I bought a large t-shirt and a pair of skate shoes, and yes, a skateboard, and when I looked into the mirror like that, I felt like I was in heaven. I felt like things were finally going right and that this was who I wanted to be, that this was who I was supposed to be.

When I was 14, I met my first trans person. I had a terrible crush on him, he was a couple years older than me and identified as an FtM. The year was, what, 2005? I knew instantly that I was the same as him, but it scared me so badly I swore off ever thinking about it again, and that I’d just live as a woman like I was meant to be, because he was extremely suicidal and abused alcohol and drugs, and I didn’t want to die like that. It just seemed like the worst outcome - I knew I was like that, too, but I didn’t want that future. I was afraid if I’d accept how I felt, I’d end up killing myself like he’d tried to do so many times already. So I went DEEP into the closet.

I struggled a lot with relationships, being viewed as a girlfriend and treated as such, like my partners telling me they loved how I looked, touching my body, appreciating it as a female body. I told my first love that I wanted to go by the name of Gabriel, and that I felt like a boy inside, but that was as far as I went. I was 15 at the time. Around the same age I got sent to a group home because the social services were struggling with me (I wasn’t attending school due to my depression and various other mental disorders, and they needed to get me off their books asap). There, I was assigned men’s deodorant because they were out of women’s, and I never went back from there. Little things like that just made me feel so much better in my own skin. Now I at least smelled like a guy. It felt heavenly. In this same place, my supervisor was a nice young woman who borrowed me movies to watch. One of them was Boys Don’t Cry. Let’s just say I was pretty badly traumatized by that, and went ever deeper in the closet, because once more I knew that I was exactly what was portrayed on the screen but the reality of it was... well, I’d either kill myself or be murdered. Nobody wants that. So yeah, there.

Afterwards I went hyperfeminine but also became incredibly toxic because of how bad I felt in my own skin - I was extremely unstable, but at least I was playing my role right, right? I was suppressing how I really felt and trying to force myself into some weird caricature of a woman to spare myself from a painful death.

I used to do a lot of larping as an older teen and a young adult. When I was 18, one of my girlfriend’s characters was transsexual, and I went looking for information about the condition, you know, having the excuse of just “doing research”. That was the turning point. It was so comforting to know that I wasn’t alone, that this was something other people had gone through, too. That I didn’t have to live like this forever.

The things that bothered me most were the fact that I couldn’t grow facial hair, and my chest, which has always been very large. I’ve never had particularly bad dysphoria about the shape and size of my body, and I coped with genital dysphoria by packing, but the fact that I couldn’t grow a beard was the worst thing in the world to me. I went through a year of self-searching and research, during which my girlfriend left me because, duh, she’s a lesbian and I’d just come out as a trans man and it just wasn’t working out anymore, but she stuck by my side to help me become who I wanted to be, and fuck if it wasn’t working. Embracing the way I’d felt and doing the things that helped me feel better - like wearing the kinds of clothes that gave me that sense of comfort and rightness, and binding my chest - helped me to such a big degree that I stopped being completely fucking awful as a person. I stopped flipping out at the smallest of triggers and slamming doors and shouting and being an absolutely unbearable piece of shit, and my ex has repeatedly told me how good it felt seeing me become so much happier before her eyes. I practically changed as a person when I started my transition, first socially and then eventually medically, I became a very calm and difficult to irritate kind of an individual instead of the mess I’d been the years before. And I don’t mean “changed as a person” like I adopted a different personality, just that I stopped being blinded with anger and self-hatred at all hours of the day and lashing out at anyone who dared to love me as I was because I couldn’t.

Starting medical transition scared the shit out of me, because I’ve always been afraid of permanent changes. I nearly ran out of my tattoo appointment last minute because the idea of being marked forever killed me, and I only have one piercing that I can take out without leaving a visible scar for that reason. So obviously, taking that step was horrifying to me, but after doing my time looking into my soul and reflecting on my needs and desires for a year, attending some councelling and in general looking into what I really wanted from my life, I finally entered the diagnostic process, which here took at the time six months at the very least and included a lot of more thorough examinations like a psychological evaluation, chromosomal check and even an IQ test to make sure I was capable of consenting to the treatments.

Testosterone was a gift from gods in how much it eased my dysphoria. I ended up quitting it eventually because of how much it messed with my mental disorders like anxiety, and worsened my psychosis, but in terms of how much more at ease I became with my body, I can’t thank it enough. Seeing my body grow more hair on it, even some of that facial hair I’d always wanted, was blissful. Having my voice drop was comforting and comfortable, and I was excited to practice it and get back my range for singing and speaking, and that whole period of changes was just so good to me. I can’t describe it any other way. My dysphoria’s never come back since I stopped, because the changes that happened were those that I’d so desperately needed the whole time. I never got top surgery because of weight limitations placed on it, and this was an enormous source of pain for me for a long time, but I’ve learned to cope with it now. I’m getting along with my boobs because they’re just a part of my body, that is, unless they start growing cancer which does run in the family, and I’m never not suspicious of them for that reason.

It’s just, it’s hard to describe the story of my dysphoria without telling you all of this. It’s not just one or two things, it’s a history of a lifetime, little things that are good and this grand shadow that follows you around and makes everything more painful and difficult to endure because it’s already weighting you down. The terror of realisations and going back in the closet, but also the unmatched comfort and feeling of finally being how you were meant to be when you see yourself more akin to the picture in your head.

There’s a lot that I’ve left out, and not much of this is probably very helpful, but it is what it is.

[blakescoven]

You Decided That I Was Worth Saving | 1 |

Pairing: Sojourn!Michael Langdon x fem!Reader

Chapter One (1): “As I Lay Dying”

Summary: You were driving home from work, when something – or rather someone – literally got in the way.  Against any reason, you let him into your life. Michael would make you question your entire worldview. Were your paths meant to cross? Did you two meet by accident? By fate? Or there’s an evil force behind it, scheming and plotting with a devilish purpose?  

Warnings: car crash(!), mention of injuries, different POVs, some swearing

Word count: 4.7K

A/N: Hey lovely friends! Here’s a sort of Sojourn AU-ish, since the plot starts in that particular moment of Michael’s life. Still don’t know if I’ll include witches and satanists…we’ll see. It’s gonna be a series so I guess I’ll divide it into a few chapters. I loooove angst and slow burn, so I’m sorry but there’s no smut. Yet. Also, for this chapter, I took inspiration from: the scene of Elena’s car crash from 1x11 of TVD and a song, my fav of all times, that I listened to while I was writing this chapter and that is also the song playing in Y/N’s car; Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex. Okay, that’s it. Enjoy and thank you so much for reading it, despite the grammar mistakes (my apologies) and the fact that probably it really sucks. (‘WHAT AM I DOING?’ was the mood while I was writing it tho.) Anyway, love you and please, let me know what do you think and what I can improve!! I’d really appreciate any FEEDBACK!! I kinda need it, because I’m not sure I’m doing this right. THANK YOU xxx ♥  

You've always thought you could describe your whole existence with a wide range of adjectives, but 'adventurous' wasn't one of them for sure. At least, that's what you thought 30 minutes before the event that would have changed your life forever. Nothing would ever be the same again; just like a hurricane comes and goes, so that day, and the following ones, would have drastically rocked your world. And mostly your beliefs.

It was late. But you were used to it. You had recently got a new job, which allowed you to move out and finally get your own place, the smallest rentable apartment on Earth. Or in Los Angeles, no doubt. This was the most stressful moment since you were born, it was up to you taking care of your own now. Mommy and daddy no more.

Shifts were endless and you often found yourself staying late at the office, to finish what you've started. This new routine was already messing with your biological clock. Every single night, you looked forward to going back home, eat and fall apart on your bed. Even today, you were already savoring the anticipation of your sadly-glorious homecoming; you were dying for a relaxing hot bath and a slice of pizza. But who are we kidding, right? A whole pizza. Then, sleepiness permitting, you would have watched your favorite TV show petting your cat. A real party girl, uh? Well, that was your life now.

You have just finished college and this was the first experience as an independent person. At the very beginning, it has been hard leaving your parents' house, but soon you realized it was time for you to go on your own way. You were so full of dreams and expectations. You hoped to achieve great goals. Of course, what you haven't taken into account was that your future weekends wouldn't have been under the banner of fun, alcohol, and friends. But instead, your crazy Saturday nights consisted of you kneeled in front of the washing machine, hands in your head and a YouTube DIY video for dummies playing on your phone, which explained all the ways to get the laundry started and what products must have been used. All your life has become a huge dumb Netflix comedy. More like a parody, perhaps. You hung out with your friends less and less; you felt deeply guilty about that, but you were way too tired to make up for it.

As mentioned before, it was a late Friday night. It was raining, pretty hard. You were driving your beloved brand-new car (THE much-demanded graduation gift) and 'surprisingly' you hit traffic. At 9 fucking p.m. TGIF, they said. Sure. Your friends were definitely having fun and drinking in some random club by then.

You, on the contrary, were running out of patience; your shiny Lexus had not moved an inch in 10 minutes, so as soon as you could, you took a highway exit. That was supposed to be a kind of shortcut, according to the navigator. The pouring rain and the cadenced motion of the windscreen wipers sounded like a lullaby. A slow-core song started playing in the background. It was quite soothing and maybe, on second thought, you should have to turn it off…or had coffee before leaving.

You could feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, the exhaustion slowly prevailing. Trying so hard to keep your eyes open, that they've started burning; and not to miss anything, you got a bit of a headache accompanied by a soon-to-be-wrinkle frown.

Meanwhile, you were driving down a deserted one-lane road, going a little over the speed limit in your rush, in order to make it home as soon as possible. The wheels were slipping a little on the wet pavement, but you kept the car steady. ­ You peered through the front window trying to see what was ahead of you; it was pitch black outside, with not even one dammit lamppost; only the moon's pale light absorbed by the dark green leaves of the forest beside the road. You had no idea where you actually were.

Suddenly, the annoying metallic voice of the GPS started bullshitting about recalculating a new route. "Wait what? Fuck NO NO NO…come on! You stupid thing, why are you changing direction???" you maddeningly screamed, looking at the display and trying to change the settings with your right hand. You weren't exactly paying particular attention to the road ahead. Huge mistake.

Outside the windshield, the rain was coming down in torrents, blurring your vision even more. The wipers went back and forth, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass, but it seemed they weren't moving fast enough.

As if the universe had something big in store for you, right at that moment, something – or rather someone – came out of the dense vegetation, slowly limping while crossing the street, no concern for surroundings.

Your eyes were still glued to the GPS tracking your position; but all of a sudden, your distraction was abruptly erased when you caught a glimpse of a human shape in the middle of the road, illuminated by the car's headlights.

A goddamn person.

You had perhaps three-quarters of a second to register this.

You didn't realize it until it was too late. You couldn't have stopped all this now. The blood drained from your face. It all happened in a few seconds, but the moment seemed to last forever. The shock made you tense your muscles; your heart skipped a beat and your eyes suddenly widened. There was a scream coming from within that forced its way from your mouth as if your terrified soul has set a demon free. It was the kind of scream that makes the blood run cold.

With adrenaline flowing through your system, you slammed on the brakes. Your fists clenched with white knuckles around the steering wheel, immediately swerving to avoid the crash. Somehow you managed to not run over him, but you were going too fast to stop.

Your car rolled over and over, while clips of your life flashing like a slideshow. The vehicle has flipped so many times that you started drifting in and out of consciousness. The noise of the metal being bashed over the asphalt was deafening. When it finally stopped, you were stuck in your seat upside-down, coughing up pieces of the broken glass coming from the shattered windshield.

Then everything became still.

You could only hear the sound of rain on metal. Aware of the bloody taste in your mouth, you still weren't able to figure out if you were injured, because the seatbelt tugged on your chest was too painful. Heart pounding in your ears, you tried to scream for help, but it came out more like a gasp.

Meanwhile, the young man was still paralyzed to the spot in the middle of the road, like an unfamiliar force was holding him in a tightening grip, keeping him from leaving. For a moment he believed that that must have been another hallucinated vision. Then he slowly turned his head toward the wrecked car. An odd thought came across his mind: the driver crashed in order to not run over him. But why? Humanity had failed him so many times. He had lost the only one that truly cared about him. His Father had abandoned him and he wasn't able to understand what was his purpose, not anymore. He actually knew that a car was coming that way, but now he honestly didn't give a damn about his life. He had failed. He was utterly lost. This was the best coincidence possible to put an end to his suffering. But now, he felt something he couldn't explain, almost a need, the need to go and check if the driver was okay. Still confused about this new foreign impulse, he started to walk towards your car.

Once there, he kneeled and took a look inside, from the broken side window.

"You look stuck." he commented with an apparent childish but plain voice.

If you weren't, like literally, in that position, you'd have certainly sassed back to that dumb obvious statement. But your conditions weren't the best at all, you might have some broken bones, actually.

What, instead, came out from your mouth was stammering confused words.

"I-I-It… m-my… my s-s-sea..b-be..t" you tried to speak, holding and shaking the restraining belt tightly in your hands, while tears gathering in your eyes.

He hummed and shushed you. "Let me get you out of here." he whispered, thinking again about why he was actually doing this, it was none of his business. And yet, he stayed on.

"I want you to put your hands on the roof." You were about to obey his calming demand, but in that moment, you realized your left arm had to be broken and it hurt like hell. So somehow you managed to raise only the other one and take also your phone.

Then he closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and all of a sudden, the seatbelt mysteriously unhooked, as if by magic or an invisible force. But you were too rattled to think about it.

You fell and he gently grabbed and lifted you from the car.

"I got you." he smiled, holding you in his arms while standing up. "Are you okay? Can you stand? Is anything broken?" he questioned with a caring honeyed tone.

You nodded pointing your arm and moaning, still dizzy from the car flipping over. The stranger carefully set you on your feet, yet not letting you completely. Good, because immediately after you slipped, too weak to stand, but he caught you by the waist. Your head was spinning so fast.

"Hey hey, easy, don't force yourself, you're clearly not okay." he observed "Look at me." and he placed his thumb on your lower lip and chin to hold your head steady as he spoke. What was he feeling right now? Pity? Concern maybe? He thought he had already turned off those pointless human emotions.

You tiredly opened your eyes to meet the most beautiful pair of ocean eyes you've ever seen. Unfortunately, you couldn't focus on him any longer, neither when he run his hand down your water-stained cheek.

"Hey stay with me, don't close your eyes." he urged, just as your vision went fuzzy and your eyes rolled back. Within seconds everything went black.

You passed out into complete and utter darkness.

He caught you before you hit the concrete, gathering your limp body into his arms and walking away from the car. He abruptly stopped. What he was supposed to do now? He had literally come from the woods, after days of fasting and sleeplessness. He was covered in damn dirt. Not to mention that he had no place to go. He was too exhausted to reason. So he chose to gently lower you to the ground, kneeling, so half of your body was on his lap. He stroked your wet hair, wondering what to do with you. Just right now, looking at your face, he noticed how beautiful you were, how innocent and angelic. He swallowed and smiled. A soft side? In his evil and corrupted soul? Impossible.

It was still raining. You were both soaked and there was no shelter in the proximities. He thought he couldn't do anything more. That's when he remembered about your broken arm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, placing his hands above your head. Nothing. Maybe he wasn't focused enough. He took your hands in his own and tried again. This time his eyes rolled black until they showed only a white surface; then he started to mutter Latin words. He lifted his head up speaking louder, but his nose began to bleed, until his vision blurred and the car suddenly exploded. He lost consciousness right next to you, nevertheless his hand still on yours.

The next thing you knew, you were on your back on the ground and very disoriented. Also completely drenched. Making indistinguishable noises because of the pain, you turned your head resting on the asphalt. The rain in your eyes didn't let you have a clear view of the surroundings, but you immediately felt an extremely warm presence at your side. You blinked twice and finally saw the boy that had helped you, laying there unconscious. Hell, maybe you had hit him with your car after all. The plot thickens.

Saying that you were confused about the whole situation was an euphemism. There was nothing for it but to try to reach your phone, almost five feet apart from your leg, hoping that it didn't break in the crash. Despite the acute ache in your arm and the burning cuts and wounds, you were able to crawl back to it, so you dialed the number and called 911. You explained everything and asked for help with a wisp of voice. You probably had a concussion.

The rain eventually stopped. You were starting to feel cold, so you found your way back to the stranger. Little droplets of water drenched his hair, covering his features, and you couldn't help yourself, you brushed a few strands from his face, caressing his sharp cheekbone. Right after your head started spinning and your vision filled with white spots, until you fainted again, against the stranger's chest.

-

You woke up in a hospital bed. It was early in the morning; the sunlight was peeking through the blinds, the constant beeping of monitors echoing throughout the room. You sighed loudly and squinted with a grimace. Luckily you were just a little sore, nothing too serious. You took a look at your arm: you had a pretty unaesthetic cast. The universe's way of telling you, "Here, take this you little bitch." Amazing.

You got up very slowly and entered the bathroom, looking for a mirror to better check out your wounds.

"Wow, nice Halloween make-up though." you muttered rolling your eyes. You had a stitched cut on your left upper forehead, a split lip and dark circles under your puffy eyes. A Miss Universe at her peak. Not to mention a great number of bruises all over your body.

You called your parents shortly afterward. Downplaying the details of the accident wasn't enough, they completely lost their minds at the phone. They were shocked and worried about your conditions, so they insisted to get on the first flight to LA, to help you. You reassured them you were fine and ready to go home. It wasn't necessary for them to come. They even offered to pay for a new car, since yours was, sadly, destroyed. You refused though; you would have dealt with the car-issue later. Even though you couldn't still get over the fact that your precious SUV has gone for good.

A truly kind doctor got to your room and, after having checked out vitals and injuries, refreshed your memory about what happened last night. Shoot! In that moment you realized you had totally forgot about the boy. You immediately asked the doc if you could go visit him. He nodded but not without first warning you. John Doe here had to be sedated because, when he regained consciousness in the ambulance, he had refused to go to the hospital and started thrashing around. Luckily, he was too weak to harm anyone.

The doctor kept saying that they had found no ID, nothing that could tell them where he came from. He was completely dehydrated in addition to previous wounds. He probably hadn't eaten for days either. For these reasons, the cheap version of Derek Shepherd wasn't sure whether he should call the police.

You were listening to his words with much more concern you thought you could feel. Well, maybe because you had almost run over him. But you felt you had to go check on him. He helped you out of the car after all. He…saved you someway? What you couldn't understand was why he had stopped in the middle of the road; he hadn't even tried to get out of the way…Oh shit. Was there any chance he wanted to, like, get killed? No, c'mon, there are way too many other – and less-painful – "methods" to do it…It couldn't be.

When you arrived in his room, you immediately noticed he was tied to the bed and carefully, you set his wrists free. After a few seconds, he woke up. You tried not to pay attention, but he was undoubtedly attractive. To be honest he was much more than that. Handsome to say the least. He seemed almost angelic. Baby blue eyes piercing your soul with a magnetic gaze, golden messy curls spread around his head on the pillow like a halo and God-given sharp features. Despite that, he was still covered in filth and wounds. But even in such a miserable state, he was hypnotizing. You wondered why no nurse took care of him yet.

"Hi!" you whispered, sitting down on the nearest chair.

"Hi." he said back, almost imperceptibly. "Thank you" he added, pointing at his bruised wrists.

"I should be the one saying 'thank you'..." you stated; he gave you a half-smile, "…you literally saved my life."

"No need to thank me, I caused your crash so.." he stopped for a second "…we can say you saved me instead." he admitted heavy-heartedly, with his eyes down. He seemed so sad and so lost, and you really felt for him.

"Well, thank God we're both still alive!" you didn't know what to say anymore. And this cringy comment wasn't helping.

" Sure " he scoffed.

What were those, tear-stains? Has he been crying?

Then an awkward silence filled the room. You were starting to feel a bit uneasy, and the continuous biting your lower lip – despite the cut on the upper one – made it absolutely obvious. You could feel something was off about him. The sadness and despair in his eyes were pretty noticeable, and you were the kind of person that can't look away.

"Uhm, are you okay?"

"Yes" he was still staring at the void. No emotion showed.

"Sorry, I don't want to be pushy…but it's clear you're not."

"Why do you care? What do you want from me?" he snapped turning his head, but his face softened instantly, as if he regretted the outburst.

You honestly didn't know why you cared that much either. It was an odd sensation coming from your guts, it was pulling you so deeply into him. He needed help, and you wanted to give it to him.

"You got anybody I could call? Your relatives or a friend?" was the only answer you could articulate.

" No.. " he mumbled, "..I have no one."

Suddenly, you felt the urge to ask him if he wanted to go home with you, to recover. You would have never done – or even thought – anything like that before. This was against all the good bits of advice your mum ever gave you. Like, don't invite in strangers that could easily kill you in your sleep?! But it was as if, deep down, you knew you could trust him. You took the risk.

"Listen.. ahem.. y-you could come home with me. I have enough space in my apartment and we could help each other until you'll feel better" you paused.

He was staring at you now, with glistening eyes. He was speechless. No one has ever shown him selfless kindness. He was in disbelief.

"I don't want your pity."

"No, wait. This isn't pity. In case you haven't notice, I have this lil problem here" you chuckled, swaying your cast in the air "I wouldn't mind a hand" you said to release the tension.

"I-I can't. Please, go. Just leave me alone." he shook his head. The fear of being abandoned or rejected again was too overwhelming for him to open up and accept some help.

"Oh," you whispered, a bit down in the dumps, "got it."

You headed for the door, but before leaving, you turned one more time "I'll leave my number to the receptionist in the hallway, in case you change your mind." you winked and smiled, leaving him alone.

He sighed and slammed his head against the pillow; he didn't even have a phone, also because, come on, what good it would do? But above all, what kind of paradox was that? Him, the motherfucking Devil's spawn, needing help? From an innocent little soul like you? No kidding. He had performed a human sacrifice and eaten raw hearts for fuck's sake. Yes, he may not know what to do, and probably he had made mistakes, but it wasn't over yet; his satanic plan needed to be adjusted. This way, he would eventually recreate the world in his Father's image and earn his trust again.

He needed to leave as soon as possible, before some stupid human being started asking him though questions.

-

You were finally home. The entire Uber ride had been silent and for that you mentally thanked the driver, because you weren't in the mood to talk at all.

As soon as you turned the doorknob, your little friend immediately greeted you purring, making you jump. He really missed you…or at least that's what he wanted you to believe. You locked the door behind you.

"His Majesty is hungry, uh?!" you said mocking your furball "Yeah, me too dude...but hold on a little longer, I need to take a shower I smell like hospital, jeez."

Only now you noticed. There was a rather unusual atmosphere when you walked in, an unsettling silence sending shivers down your spine. An inexplicable heat radiating from the house itself. It was too hot in there and you're positive it wasn't normal in the middle of November. The room seemed saturated with unfamiliar vibes.

You went to your bedroom and started to undress. Then you entered the bathroom, ready to finally wash the last night events off you.

Odd. It was like you could feel eyes on you, all the time.

Whatever. You were too worn-out to indulge your paranoid thoughts.

But the same feelings still followed you, even later when you were eating your delivered dinner, half-dead on the couch with the fluffy monster curled up on your lap.

"Maybe it's a sort of twisted PTSD." you told yourself. Yet your heart wouldn't settle. Something wasn't right there.

Anyway, you chose to ignore your instinct; it was time to get ready for bed. You reached your closet as you slowly took off hoodie and sweatpants, changing into even more comfortable clothes, just a t-shirt actually. Since it was that hot, no pants. The loose garment barely covered your bare thighs though.

You were half asleep when your cat jumped up and suddenly rushed out of your bedroom like he was possessed. You stretched and changed position, that enormous cast wouldn't let you fall fully asleep. After 5 minutes of turning and tossing you heard what sounded like footsteps. Your pulse started racing.

"It's nothing," you told yourself, "I'm imagining things."

But then the typical creaking of your fridge being opened reached up to your room. Twice.

You froze, heart in your throat. You were most definitely not alone. Someone was in the house.

But right after you shook your head, "Ugh, probably it's just that furry devil."

Being as quiet as possible, you got up and made your way to the door, straining to hear, but your heart pounded too loudly and your breathing was harsh. Moving towards the switch, but on second thought you decided against it.

Nothing. Complete silence.

It was when you were finding your way back to the mattress that you heard a white noise, a loud thud and the clear scraping of a chair against the floor. You froze again with wide eyes. You swallowed breaking out in cold sweat.

The squeaking of the cupboard followed by the tinkling and banging of glasses and dishes. You almost had a stroke.

You internally cursed yourself. You had left your phone on the couch. Fuck fuck fuck. The only option left was trying to reach the door and ask for help from the next-door neighbor. But you couldn't do it, the kitchen had a space divider, but it wasn't long enough to avoid being seen.

Weapon, your mind screamed. You needed a weapon.

A relieved smile appeared unexpectedly on your features. You recalled about keeping a knife hidden in the drawer. 'Never say never' when you live alone. Well, it seemed it had been a good idea after all.

You slid your fingers around the rubber grip, dismayed by how much your hand was shaking.

Heading down the hallway barefoot, you hold your breath and slowly approached the living room. With one motion you sneaked into the kitchen, with the blade facing the intruder, and screaming,

"I'm calling the police!"

But what you saw made your jaw drop in shock.

It was Him, the guy from the car crash.

In your kitchen.

Eating your motherfucking chocolate chip cookies.

At 01:00 am.

"Uh, sorry..." he spoke while chewing the leftovers and then swallowing loudly, "..you wanted some?". As if he felt guilty for real, with that childish expression.

You couldn't keep quiet any longer. The situation was too far-fetched.

"WHAT THE HELL?" you snapped. He chuckled at the reference.

"I can't cook. I was starving and I found these. I didn't want to wake you, but this monster here won't get off me..."

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

He tilted his head, pretty confused. "You invited me to stay here..." he remarked, with a hint of displeasure in his voice.

"Yes, I did. But it doesn't mean you can break in without me knowing." You were still a bit scared; he could be dangerous as far as you knew, and his actions had already proved it.

He didn't say anything. He stood up from the island counter, making his way to you. You were slack-jawed in astonishment, still holding and pointing the sharp surface toward him.

"Put that knife down."

"No."

"Why?" he frowned.

"I don't trust you. Don't come any closer!" you ordered.

"I can't take you seriously looking like this" he smirked pointing at your 'night attire'.

He took another step and you run to reach the handle; it turned but the door wouldn't budge.

"It's locked." you turned to look at him "Don't you remember? You did that yourself." he observed, like it was obvious.

"Then how did you get in here?"

"Transmutation."

"Tra-what?" you supposed he must have been out of his mind.

The circumstances themselves were unbelievable. But he was right, you offered him help.

Now he was leaning against the wall a few feet apart from you, locking his eyes with yours, his beautiful features veiled by a shade of dejection and misery. Suddenly, the feeling you had at the hospital came back. Trust.

"I know I'll regret this, but yes, you can stay."

A thankful smile crept across his face and if it weren't for the dark, you could swear that he was also crying.

"But if you don't behave I'll kill you." you threatened in a playful tone, but you needed to scare him a little.

In that moment he understood that he had done the right thing, deciding to take your offer. He had to pick up the pieces and get back on his feet. He couldn't have done it alone.

And mostly, he liked you. You were a warrior. There was something special in you, he could feel it. He could trust you.

"You scared the hell out of me by the way…do not do that again." you spoke as your eyes narrowed.

"I promise" he whispered.

He was kind of a weirdo, but you imagined he'd been through a lot. For this reason, you decided to place the knife on the table and get closer to him.

"But anyway, sooner or later you're going to tell me how you did it." you chuckled showing him the door. You were standing right in front of him now. He was taller than you thought.

"We haven't officially met, I'm Y/N."

In that moment – a moment you'll never forget – he vanished right before your eyes.

Then a sudden voice – that didn't hide insecurity and expectancy – coming from behind, made you turn around and left you in absolute shock.

"I'm Michael. Michael Langdon."

___________________________________________

Tagging (hope you don’t mind, in any case just tell me!) @michael-langdon-appreciation @hecohansen31 @so-langdon @emmyrosee @ladynuwanda @sammythankyou @sojournmichael @hplotrfan

[kiritenyas]

things bnha vigilantes gave me that i'm eternally grateful for:

koichi, literally the purest human in existence

tensei doing hero work and p much adopting koichi after one (1) jog

tensei talking about baby tenya not being able to do sharp turns yet and getting excited over people who can

16 year old aizawa and his two loud bfs

the backstory on how tsukauchi and toshinori became friends and their pure friendship meetups

tsukauchi makoto, aka tsukauchi’s little sister, who also happens to be a human polygraph and the most gorgeous person who ever walked the bnha universe earth

little glimpses of miruko and ryukyu

mic and midnight annoying aizawa

mic saying that aizawa said he’ll come if he can and midnight immediately knowing it means he won’t come

aizawa and tsukauchi working on the same case while aizawa drinks all of the black coffee that exists in japan

a cool plot that makes use of world building and the interesting complications that come with the hero system

an old guy with high disregard for the law punched stain in the face 

koichi wears an all might hoodie to battle and insists that it gives him power ups 

people just start living in koichi’s apartment and the bean lets them eat his pudding

koichi likes picking up trash in his spare time, he helps people make it to work and not miss their trains, he missed an entrance exam because he helped a kid that fell into a shallow river, he’s genuinely the purest soul in the whole series

the characters from the main bnha manga that appear are written better and utilized better in the vigilantes story

the new characters are really cool and interesting

it’s canon that aizawa prefers a villain attack over making a public appearance and honestly mood

the main three new characters are “illegal” heroes but actual pro heroes turn a blind eye to the fact that the law says that they should be arrested and let them help with stopping crime

cool character designs for the new characters, awesome art style

iida tensei. i cannot say this enough. iida tensei

the backstory behind aizawa’s goggles which is surprisingly adorable

loud cloud aka oboro, who saves kittens off the street and smashes windows when he enters class instead of entering through the door

oboro helping aizawa get out of his bad mindset ;^;

honestly oboro aizawa and mic’s friendship is a fucking gift i’m never gonna take this for granted my crops are watered my skin is clear my grades are up

midnight spamming aizawa with cat pictures

when aizawa goes undercover in a fancy suit+hairdo the person with him says that it’ll be good practice for when he has to release a statement to the press regarding a scandal and aizawa says it’ll never happen to him jdshfjns

queen makoto who gathers info, blackmail and connections like a detective and handles events, phone calls, recruiting and anything else like a business major 

makoto and koichi fake dating for 3 minutes before getting found out

koichi’s awkward statements that are supposed to be compliments but come off rude instead

tsukauchi using the bath bombs toshinori bought him, which results in everyone teasing him by asking if he’s trying to impress someone/if he’s dating someone

seriously this spinoff manga: a whole ass treasure