#you see a post about equality and go well yes except

[audhdnight]

I can’t download the video so just pretend that right here is a slideshow featuring all different types of religions and genders and sexualities and relationships and ages and skin colors etc, and it’s captioned “I was raised to believe that all of these are okay”.

Moving on to the comments-

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[hiveswap]

Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024

I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.

Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.

1. The previous round (preparation)

I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:

...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.

2. The Finale

Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.

I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.

I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.

3. The Fuckening

Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:

which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:

This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.

We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.

4. Conclusions

Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:

(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:

This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:

Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.

I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.

[olympeline]

Gonna post my thoughts on the Hetalia Nations Revealed AU. Always a fun one to chat about. (￣▽￣)

We call it an AU but it’s actually pretty accurate. The part about nation-people not being a secret, I mean. I recently reread the webcomic and canon leans into NPs being public knowledge. Obviously their bosses are aware of them, but there’s lots of strips where NPs interact with members of the public as well. There are strips starring humans who don’t recognize their NP (that one soldier in France, Lisa, Davie, etc.) but they’re fewer in number. We all know Heta-canon is flexible so, for this post, I’m coming down on the side of “people know.” Here’s how I headcanon it all working:

Nation-people are common knowledge to the extent it would be really weird if you met someone who wasn’t aware of them. It would be like talking to a guy and he says he’s never heard of religion. Like, any religion. In the whole world. Not even the concept of it. You’d be all: “Whaaa?? Man, how?? Did you grow up under a rock?” It’s like that for NPs.

NPs are more than human and so aren’t too bothered by us. In a nice way. They still love their citizens but it’s not a relationship between equals. More benevolent demi-deities existing alongside the mundane. This is where I differ from some interpretations of this AU, I think. I can’t see the NPs as being weak and helpless around their people. They’re partially representations of the Earth itself and nature is much stronger than humanity. Like that panel where Francis was getting harassed by historians? Only happened because he allowed it. NPs let humans get close to them when they choose, but they can lose them if they wish. That’s what France did when he’d had enough. The historians blinked and he was just gone. Slipped away like a breath of wind. Leaving two very disappointed academics to continue their argument, lol. The only exceptions are their bosses. NPs have to obey any direct order given by them.

Have to, have to. Compelled in the old fae-like way. NPs are completely under the control of whoever’s running their country. The one who has the final say is the head of state, but they can and do delegate if someone else holds the true power. Kiku directly obeys his emperor, for example, but the emperor obeys Japan’s Diet. So the Prime Minister gives Kiku his orders through their symbolic ruler. If a country’s government is overthrown then that control passes to the new ones in charge. NPs don’t get any choice in the matter, sadly for them. When an NP starts obeying the “other side” then the writing’s on the wall that the regime change has succeeded.

They aren’t considered fully human and so don’t have the same rights and privileges we do. I’d imagine there’s been many high profile court cases about stuff like this in the modern era. Just what an NP can be ordered to do by their bosses before it becomes abusive, how culpable they are for crimes committed by their nations, etc. “The Nation of [x] vs. Nation-Person [y] in the case of Historical Crime(s) [z].” I don’t think much would have been accomplished over the years, lol. No country is going to let their NP go to a foreign prison. Plus the NPs always have the “magically compelled” defense to fall back on. So no progress, just lots of debate. NPs are considered somewhere between guardian deities, ordinary people, and “things” in the broader public consciousness.

Yes, they have social media. No, it has not always gone well. I bet after a few instant-major-historical-event cases of careless and/or hot-tempered NPs calling their bosses assholes on twitter, NP accounts were mass nuked. They were reinstated only after their bosses gave them loooong lists of subjects they weren’t allowed to talk about. Afterwards their posts were all fluff about hobbies and personal interests. Doesn’t stop foreign governments, economists, gossip channels, NP enthusiasts, and curious people combing through every tweet, post, and video to try and guess what the NPs are “really” talking about. So many conspiracy theorist channels, oh god. Even thinking about it is making me tired. 😂

NPs have two homes: a work address and a personal one. The former is usually located in their capital and is either where their boss lives or close by. So Alfred has a home at the White House, Arthur has one on Downing Street, etc. However most NPs don’t consider these their real homes and only spend time there while doing government work. Ordinary, if nice, houses and apartments out among their people is where they like to live. These can decorate them to match their personalities the way they can’t official residences. They use their power over the land to make sure no humans can find these sanctuaries unless the NP wants them to. Stops NPs being swarmed by paparazzi, tourists, and fans 24/7.

De-anoning to say it was me that sent @forsoobado137 the money ask. So just repeating what I said there. All countries put their NP’s face on their money. Along with the state’s name, the NP’s human name, and a picture of the actual land they represent. The money can have other famous people on it too, just on the other side. Governments have been doing this since money was invented and some of the only surviving visual records of ancient NPs are pictures on coins.

Any human being knows an NP and the country they represent just by sight. Unless it’s somewhere they’ve never heard of. Then all they know is that they’re looking at a nation-person. I imagine it would be considered a huge faux-pas to let it slip you don’t know an NP’s country name. Like telling a Holywood A-lister you don’t know who they are at a red carpet event. 😭

NPs have many default jobs, mostly related to their governments. One of them is being in their nation’s armed forces. They’ve always done this ever since the first age of empires. They even led armies and were seen as good luck charms in the past. Soldiers tend to make up the bulk of the humans the NPs remember most fondly. The relationship between Francis and Joan of Arc is one of the best known historical examples. Whether an NP actually enjoys their time in the military depends on their personality. Which is in turn influenced by how warlike the actual country is and has been. If your NP falls in battle, it’s one of the worst war omens possible.

Speaking of death, I headcanon that NPs can die from illness or injury. Or at least their human bodies can. They’re tougher than we are, but not unkillable. They’ll come back so long as the nation itself survives. True death for an NP is reserved for when the civilisation they represent stops existing. If an NP dies in a foreign country, they’ll crumble to dust and regenerate somewhere deep in their heartlands. The place they were originally “born” from the earth. Only a select few very high up in government know the location of their NP’s birth/rebirth place. This also happens if they die on home soil and their body is destroyed. If they die at home and their body is okay, they’ll heal and wake up after a few hours. If the country isn’t doing well it takes longer for its NP to come back.

Speaking of countries not doing well: NPs get sick either when their economies go bad, or when there’s an epidemic among their citizens. A lot of European NPs can chalk some of their early deaths up to the Black Death. When an NP get “depressed” it’s code for a financial fever. Nothing can be done but keep them comfortable until the economy picks up.

Hetalia is so fun to post about, my god. Such a prime series for theories and headcanons. You feel me, gamers?

[kevinsdsy]

I know you ended the socmed au but if you have any Kevin and Shane hcs to share…

YES PLEASE I WOULD LOVE TO KEEP TALKING MY SHIT EVEN THO I’VE WRAPPED UP THE SOCMED AU HEHEHE and i was planning to do a headcanon post later so this is perfect 🙂‍↕️ (fair warning what’s red is nsfw ig)

before shane met kevin he literally had no idea whether he liked guys or not— he has never given sexuality much thought and was more of a ‘i see what happens, i like whoever i like who even cares’ kind of person

then he meets kevin day (and who isn’t in love with kevin fucking day) and he’s like oh. okay. i definitely like this guy.

he has his sexuality crisis for like twenty minutes and he’s like “do i really like kevin day? or is this just the kevin day effect everyone is talking about?” and then he’s like who even cares i need to make out with this guy and he immediately goes game on and just starts flirting.

at first kevin isn’t even sure what the deal is with shane. is he flirting? is he just a guy in sports? is he just being a trojan? and shane takes his oblivious act for like half a day and then is like “ok dude. i just figured out i apparently like guys and i would love to make out with you. and we only have a summer together before going back to our lives— so no time to waste. do you want this? yes or no? no pressure.” and kevin just gapes at him for a second before saying “what the fuck?” under his breath and then he decides oh whatever. they’re in paris and they end up making out 🙂‍↕️

and they keep making out. and if they’re not watching sports and they’re not with their friends, they’re most likely together.

they discuss A LOT of exy.

(sometimes they discuss exy while having sex/making out) ((i feel like kevin is insane enough to get off to that))

i have this headcanon that no one sleeps in their designated hotel rooms— so these guys wake up in each other’s rooms a lot of the time, but also they end up in god knows which room?? so people have definitely walked in on them (not during sex pls just a shirtless make out session) and everyone knows kevin day and shane reed are making out with each other this summer.

whenever anyone asks them about it they just shrug it off like: “we’re in paris.”

because at the end of the day it’s just going to be a summer fling.

they both end up back home, idek how many miles apart, but they’re not going to commit to an established relationship.

doesn’t stop them from texting. and making inappropriate jokes online. and having phone sex, but oh well.

we all have to go through our complicated situationships, do we not?

ntm when the foxes and trojans have to face each other again on court they’re being really professional about it and they’re competitive and all. until the last seconds of the game pass and they’re both stuck doing press and then when they’re finally done with press and exy— they find some time alone to “catch up”.

and with catch up i mean discussing their game in great detail while getting each other off.

and both of them return to their teams looking like hot messes and even though they’re behind closed doors both teams have an equal reaction to them entering and doing the walk of shame (except they’re both shameless)

“guess you had a chance to catch up with shane?” kevin just grunts while making his way towards the shower.

“kevin?” someone asks. and shane just proudly nods, while confirming “kevin 🙂‍↕️.” as he makes his way to the showers.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hello

I want to see cowboy reader get captured and hurt by unsub and JJ worried because those two seem to have chemistry

Description: Cowboy reader's father visits, things don't go too well...

Warnings: abuse, abusive parents, abduction, claustrophobia, judgy nurse, hospital visits, child abuse mentions

A/N: I'm panicking that this feels rushed but equally, I started writing this on the 15th of May so it can't be that rushed can it? Lmao (Also I'm so sorry it's taken this long). Posting this before I can doubt myself some more :))

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout

You and Spencer stood in front of the geographical profile, to be honest, Spencer was doing most of the work, you were watching the wheels in his brain tick. Since meeting the young doctor, you had almost been in awe of his intelligence and the way his brain worked (and you couldn’t help but want to protect him from the world). 

This precinct was set out slightly different to the others you had been to, this station’s conference room had no windows, purely lit by shitty lights that were screwed into the ceiling. The only way you were able to read in this room was if you also switched on a bright light that was a lot less warm-toned to actually see. 

"(Y/N)?" You snapped out of your train of thought, turning to the voice, it feeling vaguely familiar. 

"Yes?" When you turn to him, you instantly know who it is but you force your face to stay neutral.

"You don't remember me." He manages to look somewhat defeated, you'll give him that. 

"No, I remember you." You said, folding your arms, "You just don't mean anything to me." 

"And why’s that?" 

"You're not worth my energy." 

He places a hand on his heart, "You wound me, son." 

"Shame." You answer, you turn to Spencer, "Can you go get Hotch?" 

Spencer looks at the scene hesitantly, not wanting to leave you alone with the man. Especially if he is your father. "It's okay, Spence." You reassured with a tight smile. 

"Yeah, it's alright, Spence." Your father says as he takes a step towards Spencer. 

When your father takes a step closer to Spencer, before you know it, you have him pinned against the wall. "Don't you even fuckin' dare stand near him." You growl, "I don't care how much you think you've changed, come near him, I'll break you." 

Chuckling, despite his head pressed against the wall, your father turns his head to look at Spencer. "I have changed." 

"Bull. Shit." You force the words out of your mouth, anger flowing through your blood. "Spencer, go get Hotch." You wanted Hotch here for a multitude of reasons. The main three being:

Make sure you don't nearly kill him

Make sure he doesn't nearly kill you

Make sure Spencer is safe 

As soon as he's gone, your father's demeanour shifts and he smirks, "I thought we'd never be alone,"

And with that, he manoeuvers himself and slams your head into the wall, knocking you unconscious. 

When Hotch and Spencer ran back into the room, three minutes later, you were nowhere to be seen. 

You didn't know how long it had been, just that it must have been ages - at least four days. You had been there for ages, in the dark, a closet to be specific. And everywhere hurt - so, so much. Your father had been in multiple times and it was like you were twelve years old again, stuck at home with a monster with no one to save you. Except you knew that you had people in the outside world that actually cared about you (your team).

Each time your father visited you, dragging you out of the closet and throwing you to the floor, he inflicted a different pain that reminded you of your childhood while he hurled insults in your direction. It had been a while since his last visit - a few hours, perhaps - and, to your dismay, you were beginning to worry whether he would come back.

"This ain't creepy at all," You muttered to yourself, perhaps if you closed your eyes and simply pretended you were at home that would help.

You leant against the back of the closet, trying your best to get comfortable. You closed your eyes, picturing your bed at your Mama's house. Everything was okay. "You- You're fine," You mumbled to yourself, clutching your arm tight to your chest, trying to stabilise your shoulder. It had been dislocated on your first day here (wherever here was).

Everything ached heavily, throbbing in beat with your heart. Between the cuts, scratches, and burns, you felt like you couldn't take a full breath. It was dark and you couldn't see. You didn't know who was there, if anyone was really there. God you hated the dark. And it was cold, so very, very cold, you knew there was no way that you had lost enough blood to make it so. You knew that the only way in which it was so cold was that bastard had made sure there was no way heat could get into the room (assuming there wasn't a thermostat).

The beat of your heart filled your ears, mixed with the roaring that was occupying your ear drums. All with such force and such volume that you don't hear the gunshot in the background.

"Everythin's fine, you're gonna get out of this. Team'll find you. It's fine. It's fine-" Your feeble attempt at self-reassurance died in the back of your throat when you heard the familiar unlocking of the closet doors. You curled into yourself further, not looking up when the doors creaked open.

"(Y/N)?" JJ approaches you slowly, and you stare at her, trying to figure out if you've finally gone crazy or if she's really here. God, you hoped it was the latter. You couldn’t help but notice that the air around her seemed slightly brighter.

"JJ?" You wince, not only from the pain it caused in your throat and chest to speak, but by how utterly defeated you sounded.

"I'm here," She answers, "We're all here." With that, there was a small click and light flooded into your room. You winced, quickly ducking your head down and squeezing your eyes shut. When your eyes had adjusted, you opened them, forcing yourself to stand. 

The team's eyes widened at the sight of you, covered in blood and dirt, stripped of your shirt and socks. When you finally looked up, you curled into yourself slightly, trying to ignore the damage. 

You took a breath, "What about-?"

"He's dead." She answers and your shoulders deflate. They did come for you. He was wrong. Of course they would come for you.

"Who- Who shot him?" You asked hesitantly.

"I did," Morgan replied, frowning slightly. No matter what the man had done, he was still technically your biological father. You stumbled over to him, wincing and limping as you did so.

"Thank you," You mumbled, collapsing into a hug when you finally reached him. 

”How about we get you sit down?” Morgan asks gently as Prentiss places a seat next to you. Despite you protesting that you were fine, Morgan helps ease you into the chair while Hotch calls the paramedics to check how far out they were. 

When the paramedics arrived, they were quick to transfer you onto a gurney and then into the ambulance - the team keeping close. 

“Do you want us to call your emergency contact?” The paramedic asked and you shook your head.

“No, no thank you,” You mumbled, giving her a small smile. 

“Are you sure-?”

You nodded, “She, er, she’s already here,” You don’t notice Morgan shoot JJ a knowing smile - who responds with an eye roll and shaking her head.

“Okay, just so we know, who is it?”

“Oh, er, JJ,” You said, nodding to her, “The blonde haired lady,”

The paramedic takes a note of this, jotting it down on your form. “Thank you,”  

When you get to the hospital, you’re settled into a rather uncomfortable hospital bed (but you know better than to complain). They start by giving you pain killers and treating your major wounds - the burns along your side and chest, a variety of deepish cuts along your arms and torso, and finally checking your ribs and collarbone for fractures. You had tried telling them you were fine, but they weren’t having it - especially when they poked it and you cried out in pain.

"We need to take you upstairs," The nurse said, "We need to do an x-ray."

"Upstairs?"

"Yes, the x-ray department is on the fourth floor," The nurse said and you drew in a deep breath. "We need to transfer you into a wheelchair."

Eventually, you were out of your room, trying desperately not to think about the elevator. Being trapped in a small metal box.

"No, I- I'll take the stairs." You mumble, shaking your head as you approach the lift. Not now. You can do this right now. You begin to stand when a hand is placed on your shoulder, instantly making you feel relaxed. You know its her without even having to look.

"You know you can't take the stairs right now," She responds quietly.

"JJ, I'm fine." You answer, grinding your jaw. You did not want to go in that lift under any circumstances.

"It's the only way to get there."

"Then I won't go,"

"You need to get an x-ray,"

"Don't need to."

"What would help you feel safer?" Her voice is soft, calming.

"You." Your answer is instant, that's not the embarrassing part though. The embarrassing part would be asking to hold her hand. The embarrassing part would be asking if Hotch or Morgan could also come with. You knew that they wouldn't let anything happen to either you or JJ - and they were physically healthy and therefore actually able to protect both you and her (normally you wouldn't have a problem with protecting the pair of you if needed, but you were currently slightly incapacitated).

"What's the other thing?" Damn, she can read you like a book.

You swallow, frowning slightly as you flush red and look down at your hands, watching them tremble for a moment, "H-Hotch or Morgan?"

JJ nods in understanding, gently rubbing her hand along your arm. "Does it matter which one?" When you shake your head, she turns to the nurse, "Can you get Agent Hotchner or Agent Morgan please?"

"For an elevator?" You frown, staring at your hands more intently as your face grows hot, watching as they continue to shake from adrenaline at the idea of being in a lift right now.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying, he's a grown man, he can ride an elevator-"

You can sense the anger radiating off the blonde so you shake your head, "JJ it's fine..." You mumbled, "Let's just go n get it over with."

"No. You'd feel more comfortable with Hotch or Morgan here, so we're going to make sure that one of them are here." She says strongly, not breaking eye contact with the nurse. "So, can you get Agent Hotchner or Agent Morgan. And another nurse."

The nurse stares blankly at her for a moment before nodding and walking off. "Are you alright?" JJ asks softly and you give a small nod, hands continuing to shake. Seeing this she slowly reached down, lightly taking your left hand in her right.

"I-I'm sorry," You mutter before your tone turns bitter. "I shouldn't be feelin' like this. It's just an elevator."

"(Y/N)," You look up at her, "You've been through something most people can't even imagine. You're okay to feel shaken by that."

"M an adult." You said, trying to ignore your eyes began to feel the familiar sting of tears. "I shouldn't be-"

"I'm scared of dogs." JJ said. "I- Spencer was taken by an unsub years ago and his dogs attacked me and now, I'm afraid of dogs. Is that unreasonable? I'm an adult."

"That's different."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Wha-? No. Because you went through a traumatic experience."

"And this wasn't traumatic?"

"No! This was my childhood! I got over it! I should be fine with this! I shouldn't be here shakin' like a leaf over somethin' I must have gone through a hundred times!" You exclaim, "I should be able to get in an elevator without vibratin' so hard I’m creatin' my very own massage chair!"

"You're allowed to feel this way," JJ says gently as she crouches in front of you. "It's okay to acknowledge things that scare you. And doing this? Getting in an elevator shows how strong you are. Even if it's with two friends."

"Is everything okay?" JJ looks up at Hotch, who let's his gaze settle on your form - he can't see much, but he watches as you lift a trembling hand to your face, presumably to massage your temples. JJ says nothing, unsure of how much you want her to say, so you take the lead.

"I don't wanna go in." You mutter. "I wanna take the stairs."

Hotch had never heard you sound so small. "I get that," Ensuring that his voice is calming, he continues, "But we both know you can't make it up all those stairs right now."

"Its- I feel like 'm trapped and 'm not even inside yet."

"We'll be here the whole time," Hotch adds and you nod.

"Is the other nurse here?"

"Yep," Another voice chimes, "I'm Nurse Maddison."

"Hi," You whisper. "I-I'm not normally like this," You mumble, this was slightly mortifying to say the least.

"That's alright," She replies, "We've all got our fears. I find it difficult to go on public transport - I'm scared of a lack of control."

"I-I'm scared if I get in the lift, I won't be able to get out." You admit. "I'm scared the lights will flicker, n I'll wake up, n I'll still be there. Or worse, the lights will go out n he'll be here."

"Who?" Nurse Maddeline furrows her eyebrows when you don't answer.

"I just really don't want this to be a dream," You whisper.

JJ squeezes your hand lightly, "I promise you, this is real."

"We're here, (Y/N). You're safe. You're with us."

You sat, taking deep breaths outside the elevator for a minute or so. Just catching your breath.

"Are you ready to get in?" She asks. Despite the question, her voice is full of understanding. "We don't have to push any buttons yet, and I can stand in the way of the doors until you're ready."

"Can- Can we do that one? With you in the doors?"

"Of course!" Nurse Maddison gives a small smile before pressing the call button for the elevator.

When she wheels you into the elevator, you forget how to breathe. Shaking your head quickly, you find Hotch and JJ (which is easy as Nurse Maddison placed the wheelchair so that you could see both of your colleagues), "I was wrong, I can't do this-"

"(Y/N), look at me," JJ speaks this time, "You're okay, it's okay."

You shake your head, "No, no, I can't-"

"I need you to calm down for me, okay?" Nurse Maddison says.

"No! No, I can't- I can't do this!" You bow your head, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

"(Y/N)." Hotch's voice is stern and makes you look up, "You can do this. I know you think you can't, but you can."

"Do you trust us?" JJ asks and you nod. Because you do. You trust the pair of them with your life. "Then close your eyes." You look at her for a moment before doing as she says, letting your eyes flutter shut. There's a warmth that floods through your body as she takes your hand again and you grip it lightly.

When the doors close, your grip on JJ's hand tightens and your eyes shoot open. "It's alright," Hotch is quick to reassure as JJ rubs soothing circles on your hand. "It won't be long before we reach the floor we need."

"No, no, Hotch, I need out-" You shake your head, desperately trying to get your breathing under control. "Hotch I need out, I can't breathe-"

"(Y/N), look at me." JJ's voice drew your eyes away from Hotch. "You're okay."

"No-"

"Yes you are, you're okay." She says softly, gently squeezing your hand in hers, "We're nearly there."

You pushed the palm of your hand into your eye, trying to force the tears back. "Not a coward." You muttered bitterly to yourself, not caring if the others could hear. You needed to get yourself through this ride without having a panic attack (and it was close). "Not a coward. Not a coward." You mumble the phrase, over and over. Intent on repeating it until you believe it. Of course, before that could happen, there was the familiar ping of an elevator door and your head shot up as they opened.

"Can we get out now?" You asked, looking up, "Please?"

Both Hotch and JJ give you a reassuring smile as Nurse Madeline gently pushes the wheelchair out of the elevator. 

JJ leans forward, so only you can hear her as she whispers, “See, I told you you could do it,” 

The x-ray went relatively smoothly, except for finding out you had three broken ribs and had broken your clavicle. You were also a lot calmer on the way down (still with both Hotch and JJ), feeling relatively calm (in comparison) when they wheeled you back into your room. 

The team immediately greeted you with smiles as you entered your room, Garcia standing up from your bed (where she may or may not have laid down on it).

“So, what’s the verdict, cowboy?” Morgan asked. 

“Um, three broken ribs and clavicle.”

“Clavicle?” Garcia asked.

“Collarbone,” Spencer added. 

“Does that mean no baking for a little while?” Both you and Garcia asked, turning to Hotch (who had to fight off a smile).

“Probably.”

[longing-for-rain]

Can we please get rid of the idea that a “strong” woman with an effeminate guy is automatically a subversive and progressive relationship?

Look, I know this take comes from people whose only relationship experience is from fandom tropes and TikTok memes, but it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating to me because I am that woman, and even if it physically “looks” subversive, it often actually isn’t.

Just for context here, I’m speaking from my experience as the kind of woman I am. I’m tall; I’m 5’10”. I have a muscular build. I’m highly educated. I actually used to like the idea of being taller than a male partner, earn more, be the provider, etc. It felt empowering to me, so like a lot of you, I became interested in that idea when I thought about relationships with men. I always hated the “woman role” forced on me and I thought my stature would help me escape it by switching roles.

However, actual experience made it seem a lot less empowering. Because here’s the reality.

Despite what they say, men don’t like it when their wives/girlfriends are taller, or earn more. It makes them feel emasculated. You might notice this immediately, or it might take months for the mask to come off, for him to start acting insecure. But he will. And who will he take it out on? That’s right: you.

Sure, it will be “my girl acts like a booktok boyfriend I love her!” and “my wife is the coolest ever I love her!” at first, but in reality? There will always be some lingering insecurity. He’ll expect you to hold his hand and reassure him that he’s still a man to you and that you respect him constantly.

And that brings me to my next point—these relationships really aren’t as subversive as they seem. Sure, he puts on nail polish and flower crowns. But does he do the dishes? Does he help out around the house? Sure, he gushes about how “cool” you are. But does he support you emotionally the same way you support him? Can you truly be yourself with him, or do you find that you repress and downplay your feelings to protect his?

The unfortunate reality is, there is simply always going to be an unequal dynamic. It’s been instilled into us by thousands of years of patriarchy. You can’t undo that with some fandom tropes. It’s like painting over water damage instead of fixing the broken pipe. The fact remains that as a woman, no matter how physically strong you are, no matter how tall, and no matter how successful, that “progressive” man will still always see you as the woman. His woman. He’ll happily enjoy the benefits of your paycheck while still expecting you to do the majority of the work around the house. He’ll happily “let” you be strong because it also means you’re spending your energy coddling him emotionally. This isn’t subversive or beneficial for women.

There is, of course, an exception. Men who have fetishes—which to be clear, it is never a compliment to be someone’s fetish. I’ve experienced this as well. It’s dehumanizing. You become an object. Even a man who claims to “worship” you in the name of his fetish really isn’t worshipping you—he’s worshipping the gratification he’s using you for. Gratification which comes from the humiliation of being subservient to a woman, because to them, women are weak and inferior so therefore being the servant of one is the greatest humiliation imaginable.

So yes, I’m really sick of seeing posts glorifying these dynamics, because it’s obvious they’re either coming from people who have no experience with them or from fetishists. I don’t care if he wears a flower crown. I don’t care if he’s shorter and cowers behind his #girlboss wife while she epically stands up for him. It’s cheap faux progress and reminds me of how isolated and neglected you feel when you actually have to be that woman.

If you really want to be subversive, as a man, try actually treating your girlfriend as an equal instead of putting her on a pedestal. Try actually asking her what she wants and needs from you instead of assuming. Try sharing responsibilities with her like a partner instead of a grown child. Try defending her with the same passion she does you. Be just as strong for her as she is for you. Stand up for her against other men. Challenge other men. Learn about what she cares about and values. Focus on what you can do for her. Engage with her hobbies. Treat her like a human being and not a trope.

Now that would be an actually subversive heterosexual relationship for a strong woman to be in.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

1500 Followers Event

*Gasps* Can you believe it? The day is here! The day is actually here! The day of….

Mitsuri: The 1500 Follower Event Poll!!!

Wait, what are you doing here?

Mitsuri: I’m… I’m here for the event poll.

Guest appearances aren’t supposed to be until the event itself…

Mitsuri: w-what? 

Well, I suppose I’ll make an exception this time. So, let’s tell them what the poll options are!

Mitsuri: Yay! Alright, well, with the 1400th follower (shoutout to @audrey-93 for being our 1400th) our wonderful Astra decided that she’d run a poll to let the followers decide what the 1500 follower event would be.

And what a great time to do it! During Election Season (In America)! So the options are as follows:

AU Event 3: AU Event 3 would be exactly like AU events 1 & 2 at 200 and 300 followers. Much like AU events 1 & 2, you will choose a character, choose an AU from those that I will put together, choose a prompt from the lists I’ll put together, and a please, thank you, or other form of politeness/pleasantry. Then you’ll send it in and if it follows my rules, then I’ll write it!

Open my inbox of 3-6 months: So I closed my inbox some time ago because I felt underappreciated. I felt like my followers and/or readers were treating me like some sort of writing machine that spits out fanfics without any sort of care about who I am as a person. This option would open my inbox to regular requests for a period of 3-6 months depending on what sort of requests I get. I would, of course, expect my rules to be followed and patience to be had, but I would open my inbox to requests.

Old Fic Rewrites: pretty self explanatory. You send in a request to rewrite one of my older fics. I’ll make a list of fics that I absolutely will not rewrite as well as a rule of how old a fic has to be for me to rewrite it, but in general, you’re asking me to rewrite a request. Depending, I may or may not add a prompt option to this. In which you, the requester, say “Please dearest Astra, rewrite this fic with this prompt.” and I’ll go, “Awww, how sweet of you to be so kind, alright, let’s see what I can do!”

Top To Bottom: This is a new one that was offered by one of my beautiful followers (named by me). What this means is that it will be reader (or character) x bottom!Character. Please Note that just because they’re bottom, does not necessarily mean they’re submissive. You can be a dom and be on bottom. Furthermore, this won’t be nsfw only. There will be sfw options! Do I serve smut? Yes. But this is an equal opportunity, all inclusive blog, meaning minors are allowed so long as they stay out of the smut!

Other: send me an idea! If enough people vote ‘Other’ I’ll take all of the other ideas and put them in a new poll!

None: you don’t want an event. You don’t want me to run an event. For whatever reason, you think that I shouldn’t run an event.

As a final note! I require 150 votes on this poll to run the event! That’s 1/10th of 1500 followers. I’m asking for a total vote count equal to 1/10th of the total followers to reach the milestone! That’s not that many. Heck, I have no way of knowing who voted and whether or not they’re a follower! You could message 150 friends and tell them “I’ll give each of you $2 if you go on Tumblr and vote this option.” (If you have this many friends and that much money, however, I think you’d be better off paying me, it would be much, much cheaper to pay me to run the event, lol). Or you could reblog this post as go “hey guys, vote on this for me!” whatever it takes to get 150 votes! Anything less and I will not run the event! I don’t care if it was 148, I don’t care if “I didn’t get time”. This poll will be set for 1 week! 150 votes! With that said, happy voting! (And happy voting season to all my fellow Americans. Please vote!)

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Entanglement (2/2)

PAIRING: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Medic F!Reader 

WARNINGS: allusions to smut || MDNI

A/N: I promised a sober part 2 for the 141 challenge by @glitterypirateduck || but it's very late because I am physically unable to get my shit together || but I made it softer and sweeter than the first part to make up for it :')

Prompts used: Secluded beach, pursuit (used literally as in one person chasing another), “I need a ride”, “Here, I’ll show you”

Part 1 || Part 2 || 

____

He ships out for a tour that keeps extending for some stupid reason or another and you don’t see him for three months.    

You tell yourself that your position as one of the medical personnel on base means that you must be present at the landing pad when the 141 arrive, you must check that they’re all okay and that no one’s injured and that you must search desperately, panic clear on your face, neck craning this way and that until you see him.  Until Johnny’s face comes into view, laughing at something, because of course he is, and then you can start to convince yourself that your finally being able to breathe normally is attributable to none of the boys being injured.  

Except…except when Johnny sees you, his brows shoot up to his hairline, and the smile on his face is beautiful, with just the slightest amount of smug.  Such a horrible, annoying, perfect man.    

He jogs to cover the last few feet between you, and stands in front of you, eyes just drinking you in—smiling, but pointedly not saying a word.  

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.  Or anyone else,” you inform him quickly, eyes widening at your slip-up.  “It’s um…it’s why I’m here.”

“‘Course, luv.  No other reason, aye?”  His eyes sparkle in the afternoon sun, and glove-covered fingers lightly brush your cheek.  I can’t believe you’re here, his eyes tell you.

“Of course not!  Just wanted to make sure that no one needed emergency care,” you whisper, leaning into his touch.  Where else would I be?

“Thought about tha’ date yet, lass?” he says, and his attention is briefly drawn to Price rallying everyone to his office for the post-op debrief.

“Johnny,” you whisper, and his head whips around to look at you.  “I…I—”  You close your mouth quickly, too embarrassed to say anything when he stands there in front of you, looking like…well.  That.  

His brows are furrowed and concern floods the bright blue of his eyes.  “Wha’ is it?  I was only takin’ the piss, luv, dinna fash, it’s alrate if ye—,” 

“I have the next three weeks off.  I’m going to Scotland.  Edinburgh.”

“Edinburgh,” he repeats, his eyes wide and shocked.  And then his expression changes.  It’s subtle at first, but the smile that breaks over his face makes you feel like you’re looking straight at a sunrise, and you almost want to squint at its brilliance.  “Coincidence, lass.  I’m on leave m’self.  Might find myself in Edinburgh too, y’know?”

***

Johnny does finds himself in Edinburgh.  

And he finds himself equal parts impressed and happy and captivated when he learns of the hoops you had to jump through to arrange annual leave at the same time as him.  “So ye lied, eh?”

“I—no!  I didn’t lie!  I just withheld information, that’s all.”  You pause and turn to him, gingerly reaching out to hold one of his hands in both of yours and looking down at your intertwined fingers.  “I really wanted to be here with you.”

Lazulite.  

When you look up into his eyes, you’re met with pure, warm, melted lazulite.  His eyes hold you captive and you find that you want to drown in them, a prisoner by choice.  

When he doesn’t look away and you feel warmed by his gaze, you turn to look at the horizon, taking a couple of steps away from him and towards the water.  

It’s cold, so very unbearably cold, the freezing water and the frigid breeze it incites doing their jobs of keeping people out of the outdoors.  You’re alone with him on the beach, the tiny shops in the beach-town in the distance calling your names with the promise of warm food and an ale for your troubles.  But, the time for that will come…just, not yet.  

You turn back to Johnny and find that he’s moved closer to you, standing at the edge of the water with you.  “Ah’m glad ye changed yer mind,” he says.  “Ah’ve been…looking forward to this.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenge, grinning.  “What specifically have you been looking forward to?”

He shrugs nonchalantly.  “Pussy from the 141’s medic, obviously.”

Your gasp is dramatic and your eyes bulge at his words, too shocked to respond with anything but a bewildered  “What?  What?!”

But when Johnny doesn’t respond to you, doubled over in laughter, wheezing at your expression, you know exactly how to get him back.  You’ve barely even considered the consequences in your mind before you bend down and use both hands to splash him with the Arctic-temperature water, and he splutters, looking back up at you in shock.

You’re both frozen for a moment, before his expression narrows—“Oh, yer’ in a world of trouble now, lass,” he growls—and you make a run for it.    

The only sounds on the beach are the gentle sounds of the water on the shore, your shrieking laughter on the beach and Johnny’s occasional taunts as he chases after you.  You know he only lets you run away from him because it’s fun—the chase, the sound of your laughter, the adrenaline warming you both despite the cold winter air.    The man was a beast in the gym and on the track, could’ve caught you in a second if he wanted to, but this is fun.

Everything about being with him is fun. 

When he finally catches you, his large arms go around you and he lifts you, chuckling in your ear while he spins you around.  Your heart is full at that moment, so completely overflowing with your infatuation for him, so completely joyous at his cheesy actions that make you feel like you’re in one of your guilty-pleasure movies.  Being on a date with him is exactly like what you’d imagined—he’s effortlessly charming, naturally funny, attentive to you, and most importantly, he’s enjoying himself too.

You can’t believe you’d been saying no to this for months, denying yourself the pleasure of being with him for months.   The thought boggles your mind a bit and you forget all your reasons for doing it in the first place. 

So overwhelmed are you by your inner turmoil that when he finally sets you down, you turn around to face him, promptly put your palms on his cheek and kiss him full on the mouth.  He’s shocked, frozen for a second but seems to snap out of it, and kisses you back.  One arm goes around your waist to pull him flush to you, the other winds around you to rest on the nape of your neck.  There’s no escape from the intensity of his kiss, even if you wanted it.    

And you don’t want to leave his embrace anytime soon.  

His body shields you from the bitter cold, pulling you into his warmth until you’re left feeling like your bodies have been fused together.  Johnny is just as playful while he’s kissing you as he is at any other time.  He’s all enthusiasm and exploration, sharp little nips on your bottom lip, soothed by gentle licks.  When you hungrily open your mouth for him, you’re rewarded by the taste of what you will come to learn is just Johnny.  

He grips you even tighter, not even enough space for air to pass in between you, gets carried away by the way you sigh and moan into his mouth, and when he grinds into you, you freeze because you can feel him.  Hard, against your thigh.

Johnny whines when you stop kissing him back, your lips motionless against his, but releases you in a second when he realises that you’ve frozen against him.  “Bonnie, y’okay?”

“Erm, yeah, I—” you cut yourself off, because your cheeks are starting to warm and you don’t know where to look right now.  Definitely not at him, but you also cannot look down because what if your eyes wander to his crotch, and you cannot and must not be caught looking at his crotch and—

“Hey…y’alright?  What’s wrong, luv?”

Hm, how do you diplomatically and politely tell him that grinding against his hard cock had jarred you for a second and made you flood your panties with your arousal the next?  “N-no nothing’s wrong, I uh.  I was wondering…” you say softly, looking up at him from underneath your lashes.   “Do you want to go back to the hotel?  If it’s alright, I need a ride.”

His pupils contract to pinpricks. “Ah’ll give you a ride, bonnie.”       

***

Of all the things you thought would happen between the two of you in your hotel room after the first time you fucked, this wasn’t it.

“Ye wanted to know what I was looking forward to?  Here, I’ll show you.”

He proceeds to demand that you stay in bed while he sneaks into the bathroom and shuts the door quietly behind him.  Ten minutes later, the man emerges, victorious, with pink cheeks and looking mighty proud of himself.  He leads you by the hand into the bathroom, and helps you take off the fluffy, indulgent bathrobe he’d put on you.

The bath’s running, steam swirls around the room, warming it pleasantly, and Johnny’s managed to find a candle, somehow.  

“Get in, lass, come on.”

“Only if you come in with me,” you say, smiling.

If you were any kind of artist, you know your masterpiece would be your recreation of Johnny’s face in that moment—blushing, eyes downcast shyly, the perfect contradiction to the man who’d brought you to ruin only a few minutes ago.

You both take turns sinking into the warmth of the water, and when you’re finally settled, your back to his chest, your head leaning on his shoulder, you sigh deeply.  He brings your hand up to his mouth and gives your knuckles a kiss.  In quiet, hushed words you both decide on a strategy for keeping this thing you’ve just discovered private, just for the two of you at the moment.   

“And so when you say we’re not telling anyone, that also means you’re not going to tell Gaz?” you ask, sceptically.  

 “Naw, bonnie, we agreed.  I didnae ken what ye mean.”

“...yeah, okay, Johnny.  How about…three dates?  Three successful dates, and then you can tell your boyfriend about me.”

You hear him sputter behind you and it makes you chuckle.  “We’re gonna ‘ave more than three dates in the next few weeks, bonnie.”

“Oh?”  You turn around slowly, mindful of the water splashing out the sides of the bathtub and shift so you’re straddling him.  His eyes widen slightly at the sight of your wet body against his, and his hands grip the flesh on your hips immediately.  “Is that so?  What makes you so confident you’re going to get a second date?”

“I’m no’ a betting man,” he says, conspiratorially.  “But if ah were…the way you sucked my cock, bonnie?”  He leans back with a contented sigh and a look of overconfidence on his face.  “I’d say ah’m gonna get a second date.”

“Hmm,” you say noncommittally, and he leans forward to kiss you.

“And a third,” he says, smiling against your mouth.  “And a fourth.”   

“Maybe you’re right,” you concede.  “You’ll have to work hard for a fifth, though, Johnny.”

And when Johnny’s fingers touch you between your thighs at the words, his expression even and not betraying his intentions whatsoever, you’re convinced he’s going to work hard and get that fifth date.

[daisygirlwrites]

Little Things (Simon "Ghost" Riley + Reader "Crash") Platonic Headcanons

Part Three to Rough Start & Olive Branch

a/n: hey hey! been a minute, sorry about that ;-; also sorry that this is a bit shorter than usual but i might write some small fics about a few of these headcanons in the future. should be posting again sometime soon though! thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @itsscromp , @d4z01

Being friends with Ghost is like putting a puzzle together except all of the pieces are scattered. Finding some of them would bring you delight and while others give you a better understanding of the man. Throughout your long years of friendship, you come to an understanding that there will be pieces of him that you will never get to see, some forever gone. And yet, even if the puzzle is incomplete, you had most of it together. You’d rather have that than nothing at all

That being said, your first year with the team was quite good, besides the constant threat of almost dying and a certain member of the team being mean for almost half of it

But after bonding over knife throwing and tea for the last couple months, you and Ghost have grown close. To him, at least. From your perspective, after getting your new callsign, you felt like your relationship with him hasn’t progressed much

However, it’s the little things that you’ve noticed with him:

Like making your tea in the early morning. Half of the time you would join him and other times when your nightmares don’t show up, he’d leave your mug in the microwave

Knowing that you were raised in the Rocky Mountains, it kind of surprised him to learn that you hate the cold. So during missions in colder climates, after watching you shiver like a wet cat, he’d give you his extra pair of balaclava and gloves.

“It’s a little big on me” “Fine, give it back then” “No >:( “ 

Another thing that he does for you is taking your first watch during missions. In the first couple months when you joined, Soap and Gaz had a list of “Rookie Responsibilities” and of course one of them was to take the first watch. It wasn’t really mandatory but being a people pleaser, you did it anyway. 

It went well at first but in the last couple months, Ghost noticed that you, in his words, looked like shit after missions. And of course, you’d volunteer for the first watch. Sometimes, when it was his turn, he’d find you somehow looking worse, giving him the frog blink and thumbs up, before watching you immediately pass out on the cot or couch. 

You’d make a fuss when he would take the first watch and he had to basically pull rank to force you to go to sleep

Still calls you Rook/Rookie besides your callsign. Would sometimes call you Tiny and Mini-Me just to piss you off

Isn’t a surprise but Ghost is really observant. Knows your nervous ticks and honestly reads your emotions well. He didn’t do it before but he does check up on you 

Head pats is a thing that he does. Used to do it to his nephew and Joseph would look up to him with his cheeks puffed and whining “Uncle Si!”. You’d have the same reaction except with calling him Uncle Si, you’d usually say “Ghost, what the fuck”

You find out that Ghost doesn’t like talking about family and Christmas. Hearing some bits of info from Price, it broke your heart to learn about the reasons why he’d always gone on missions during the holiday. But at the same time, you understood him

You kind of do the same thing, taking on missions instead of going on leave. Kind of surprised Ghost when hears that he’s going to get paired up and with you of all people

“I figured you’re the type to celebrate the holidays” “Oh, I am, Just didn’t want to see my dad, that’s all.”

He opens his mouth to comment but chooses to not say anything at all. He gives you a nod instead. Ghost understands your family dynamic, it mirrors his.

Would copy his accent to make fun of him over coms. Yes, it was very bad but it did make the team giggle. He hits you back with an equally horrible American accent that made you cry

He accidentally told you one of his favorite dishes during a stake out. He was listening to you talk on coms about how much you missed pizza and how you can’t wait to go back to base to make some, silently nodding in agreement. 

“I would kill for a bubble and squeak right about now,” he thinks out loud, not realizing that his coms were on He became slightly concerned when heard you stop talking for a moment, before repeating to him, “A bubble and squeak?!” Even without seeing you, he can tell you had a big grin on your face, “I’m gonna keep quiet.” “No no, LT. I’m not making fun of you,” you assured him, “Tell me, what’s a bubble and squeak?” Ghost lets out an audible sigh before he gives you an explanation, “Basically mix some leftover mash, vegetables and roast and then fry it up in a pan." "Holy shit , that sounds delicious.”

Taught him some gen z slang because you notice that he would eavesdrop during your conversations with Soap and Gaz sometimes

Share the same type of humor. When you, Soap and Ghost got separated in Las Almas, they would hear you cackle on coms

Both of you wear your balaclavas as a second skin and would forget to take it off sometimes. Would sit in silence together as the rest of the team roast you for getting your masks wet with tea

Crash : “I have no soul. Have a nice day! :) “ Ghost : “I don’t have one either.”

Honestly, he finds you annoying but in a good way. Having you talk to him gives him the comfort that the relationship is improving but at the same time, he wants to smack you upside the head

That’s when he realize how much you remind him of his brother

When the queen died, Ghost wasn’t too upset. That is until you reminded him that Charles is now king

Due to some previous events, you’re the one driving Ghost everywhere when you guys hang out. Is offended when you straight up tell him that he has shit driving skills. 

Calls him Passenger Princess as a joke

Ghost is more into books than movies. So it does come as a shock that he mentions that he hasn’t seen the LOTRs movies. You basically force him (and the rest of the team) into a movie marathon for a day. He grumbles about how some of the scenes are different from the book but he does get into it during the Mountains of Moria

Impressed with how you handle your liquor. Watched you beat Soap and Gaz in a drinking contest before drunkenly demanding chicken nuggets and then passing out

Ghost is surprisingly decent at video games. During game nights, he’d beat everyone at Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. You accuse him of cheating and of course, he denies it. Had to be held back by Price as you repeated “These hands are rated E for Everyone.”

Your face wasn’t a mystery to him or to anyone in the team. You took your mask off regularly around them. But like many others, you saw his face in Mexico. There was a greater sense of trust that you felt when you made eye contact with him. He gave you a soft smile and you returned it

"Huh, didn't think you'd be a blondie," You remarked as you both head towards the truck "Didn't think you'd be short but here we are," Ghost jokes back

He will never admit it in front of you that he's sees you as more than friends. That you have the best qualities from his family; his mother's compassion and his brother's humor and determination. Hell, at some points, you even resemble Joseph with your optimism.

He has someone to call family again

Bonus Memes:

[missmeinyourbones]

sweet L!! congrats on your milestone u deserve it so so much!! for the event, how about “meet me at midnight” and suna :)

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT (s. rintaro)

a/n: post high school - pre college AU, talks of suna going pro, mutual pining, childhood friends alluded, slight mentions of religious comparison, i need to gargle him in my mouth like mouthwash 

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

When your phone vibrates, the sun has long set and the moths outside of your window are flocking to the dim porch light. 

And even though you know who it is texting you at this hour, your heart still does that thing—the childish fluttering of excitement and nerves and insecurity all in one. With a deep breath, you let your thumb swipe your screen. 

From: Suna ;p

[10:41 PM] meet me at midnight

To: Suna ;p

[10:43 PM] well hello to you too

From: Suna ;p

[10:44 PM] hello [10:44 PM] meet me at midnight

To: Suna ;p

[10:45 PM] that's awfully cryptic of you

From: Suna ;p

[10:47 PM] cryptic enough for you to agree?

To: Suna ;p

[10:48 PM] ... yes

Suna does this a lot. 

Both a creature of habit and the night, he loves doing this with you. Texting you when the heavy summer sun goes down and the night sky protects him from the reality of the morning. Nights that were meant to be impromptu, but are now a part of your routines, you find yourself looking forward to his (un)expected texts. 

He doesn't give a location, but you don't need one, because the two of you have been meeting at the same quiet spot outside the corner of the town's 24/7 convenience store for months now.

When you arrive in one of his old hoodies and a pair of cartoon pajama pants, he's already waiting for you beneath the store's fluorescent signage.

He looks annoyingly pretty. Neon mirrored lights illuminating his side profile like a painting, eyelashes naturally curled upwards like a goddamn prince. 

You almost want to punch him, but when he notices you walking towards him, he shoots you a knowing smile—and suddenly, that feeling of punching him slowly turns into one of kissing him, which is equally as bad. 

He doesn't say anything, merely nods beneath his hood and hands you a plastic bag. 

You take a peek inside, seeing your usual go-to purchases, and reaching into your hoodie pocket, "Thanks, I think I have a ten in my—"

"Don't want it."

You raise your eyebrows, lazily fighting off the grin that can't help but make its way across your face. But Suna, as always, is more shameless than you—not even bothering to hold back his own proud smile.

"You're paying for my pretzels and orange soda?" your voice comes airy, teasing, and Rintaro skims his tongue over his canine tooth to pretend he doesn't want to swallow the melody like water.

He's equally as playful when he flicks your forehead, "Only the finest for you." 

"And they say chivalry is dead." 

The night then goes how it always does, and the two of you begin the walk back to your house.

You never understood why it's always this song and dance, but one day, Suna insisted he walk you back. Just to be safe. You remember saying something about that not even making sense, about him walking twice as much for no reason, but he merely shrugged and continued to shove you towards the side of the pavement furthest from the street.

It's nice like this, with the sugar bubbling on your tongue and the humidity of the day dwindling to a nice cool summer night. The slight breeze is refreshing on the back of your neck.

The two of you walk in step with one another, talking about anything and everything—except what's actually on both of your minds.

Because two weeks from today, Rintaro leaves once again to travel across the world with EJP. And it's not the first time, but every time he leaves, you're afraid it will be the last. 

Because there has to be a last, there always is. 

One day, he's bound to get tired of returning to the small suburban town that holds your withering high school and shitty convenience store and you. He's destined for something bigger than this, olympic and grand and impressive.

It's inevitable that one of these times, he's going to get on a plane and not come back, and you can't even blame him. 

Noticing your faraway thoughts, he gently pushes your arm with his shoulder. 

"Stop thinking," he says, not needing to be told what you're thinking of. 

You shoot him a weak smile before your eyes return to the passing cracks in the pavement and you breathe, "I'm gonna miss this."

Rintaro thinks about saying that there's nothing to miss, that he’s still right here with you, but he knows what you mean and decides to bite his tongue. 

"Me too," he eventually sighs, kicking the rock he walks with and seeing how long he can keep it in his stride. "Being honest with you, it's like, the only thing bringing me back here." 

Your walking slows, eyebrows furrowing when you ask, "What do you mean?"

Rintaro follows your pace, eventually coming to a stop and turning around in front of you. The two of you stand on the barren sidewalk in the middle of the night, and though the silence is deafening, everything in the moment feels far too loud. 

In a wordless battle of who's gonna break first, Rintaro bites the bullet. 

"You're really gonna make me say it?" he whispers. 

You continue staring at him, and beneath the gaze of your pretty eyes, Rintaro finally allows himself to say what he's been trying to for all these months. 

"I've traveled the country, got to see places I didn't even know existed on the other side of the planet. I think I've tried every type of pretzel and shitty orange soda in the world, and then some." 

His voice falters a bit when he sees your face slightly fall, getting the wrong impression from his confession.

So naturally, he panics. Pathetically trying to find the correct romantic string of words to tell you everything he feels accurately, what ends up fumbling out of his charismatic mouth is—

"And you think I keep coming back to our shitty hometown for any reason other than you?"

You feel like all of the air has been ripped out of your lungs and the rug swept beneath your feet.

Suna swears that, thanks to some miracle handed to him, you’re laughing and shaking your head. And beneath the summer stars and humming of the streetlights, he decides that your smile is the closest thing he's seen to any kind of good omen or message from above. 

And a few weeks from now, you'll learn that irony is a funny thing—because while you were under the impression that this was the last time you'd be seeing Suna for a while, his nervous hand fiddled with his phone in his pocket, the same one he knew to hold two digital plane tickets, instead of one. 

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Fandom's Takes On Trauma Are Terrible And Here's Why: brought to you by terrible Coriolanus Snow and Anakin Skywalker discourse

I've been on the verge of making this post for a while now, but I kept not doing it because this might be a bit of a hot take and I don't like offending people. However, I've been growing increasingly annoyed with the perception of one specific character type so lets see how much my dumb opinions stir the pot this time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. This will be focused mainly on my current main fandom: The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes, as well as Star Wars. You'll see why. Now, I need to make it clear that I'm not judging anyone for their opinions on characters for any reason. In no way am I insinuating you're a bad person for having opinions different to mine or that you’re not allowed to have them. What I am saying is that fandoms have some frustrating and frankly insulting beliefs around trauma and those who survived it, and I'm gonna talk about it because I want to get this off my chest. With that said:

Y'all don't understand how trauma works and it annoys me

As stated in the title, I'm writing this because of the Coriolanus Snow discourse, specifically regarding whether he's a good or bad person. Lets rip off the bandaid straight away: He's a bad person. There's no question about it, Snow is a vile human being. And he's one of my favorite characters because of it. He's fantastically written and hands down one of the most realistic, viscerally terrifying yet utterly pathetic villains ever. And what I hate about the TBOSAS fandom more than anything (aside from how some of them treat the actors) is the way they take away all his agency in the story. But I'll put a pin in that because I have a lot to say about him and instead start at the beginning of my growing frustration with how fandom perceives trauma (feel free to skip through this post, I'll label my sections in case you don't wanna read this whole thing). There's two sides, and both are equally stigmatized and wrong. So lets start with the more obvious one through the lens of Anakin Skywalker.

The Star Wars Fandom's Weird Relationship With Traumatized Children Behaving Like Traumatized Children

So Anakin Skywalker AKA Darth Vader is pretty explicitly a Bad Dude who's done some Bad Things. Bro committed genocide, ain't no getting around that, except... It's a little more complicated. Sure, he did all those terrible things, but a lot of people take that to mean he was always a horrible monstrous big bad in the making who was destined to become the galaxy's worst nightmare. That's missing the whole point of the prequel trilogy, because those movies essentially serve to explain all the reasons for Anakin's descent into villainy, and he had surprisingly little hand in it. Growing up into slavery means he not only has a warped view of the galaxy thanks to all the horrors he's witnessed, it also means he lacks the teachings Jedi younglings get when they grow up in the temple. He was pawned off onto Obi-Wan who had only recently been knighted and was in no way ready to raise a child, and became "friends" with Palpatine who fed him all sorts of lies to manipulate him into becoming little more than an attack dog. Not exactly ideal circumstances for a child in their formative years. Did Anakin shirk the Jedi's rules? Yes. Did he do dumb stuff? Yes. But he was a traumatized teenager, of course he's acting out. When he massacres the Tusken Raiders, it's Padme Amidala who reassures him it was the right thing to do. He felt guilty about it, so this idea that he's some apathetic monster from the second he's born is dumb. It's not that Anakin was born wrong, it's that the people around him either failed to help him go down the right path or were actively trying to push him down the wrong one. Anakin never fully grasped the Jedi's ideals, because the person meant to teach him just wasn't equipped to do so. If he'd had someone to teach him how to get a hold of his emotions, distancing himself enough from them to make the best possible decision and helping him understand the importance of letting someone go when you have to, he wouldn't have fallen to the dark side the way he did.

Anakin did terrible things, but blaming it on him just having an evil heart shows a fundamental misunderstanding of how people's environments change who they are. A life in slavery, where he was not allowed to have anything and risked losing what he held dear at any second with no control over it likely caused him to be very possessive of what he held close to his heart once he did have some control over what he kept and lost. Shmi died because he wasn't there to protect her (in his head), so he clung to the people he loved so he could save them the way he couldn't save his mother. Palpatine actively groomed him, if you think that didn't have any effect on him I don't know what to tell you. Throughout the war, he constantly lost people he was close to. That control he had slowly starts to fade as Ahsoka leaves and he starts having dreams about Padme dying. He does everything to save her, only to find out she betrayed him (in his mind, a thought quite likely influenced by PTSD as well). I can tell you that believing one of the few people you trust has betrayed you can make you act very impulsively. Anakin made an impulsive decision and regretted it for the rest of his life. He wasn't born a monster, the world turned him into one.

However, that does not excuse his actions. It explains them and spreads the blame to more people, but his actions are still his actions. Anakin separated himself from his past because of all the pain it brings him, and in doing so he did a lot of bad things. And he still needed to face consequences for those actions, even if the events that led up to them aren't necessarily on him entirely. If he'd gotten therapy, he wouldn't have choked Padme to death. Possibly he wouldn't have attacked the temple. But he didn't, and he did all those things trauma or not. I have major issues with the way some Anti-Anakin parts of the Star Wars fandom insist on ignoring or writing off his trauma, but that doesn't mean I'm absolving him of all guilt.

An explanation is not an excuse, and that sentiment brings us to the reason for this little rant:

Coriolanus Snow's defenders have a habit of infantalizing trauma survivors and I wish they would stop

Oh Snow, how your amazing character completely flew over the heads of most of your loyalest fans. I'm joking, obviously, but also... It's not exactly wrong. Now, I need to make this clear: I'm not insulting Snow fans here. I'm kind of one of them (I hate his guts but I love how he was written, it's a love hate relationship). However, the way people talk about his trauma... I'll be honest, it's kind of sickening for reasons I'll talk about later after getting through the technical(?) stuff. Where the way people view Anakin disgusts me, the way people treat Snow disturbs me. Because people view The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes as if it's some typical tragic villain backstory that humanizes and in some ways justifies who he became, to show what changed him from a normal person into a monster. It's not. It actually shows that Snow has always possessed the traits that made him the monster we know from the OG series. What it does is explain why specific things were so important to him and how he grew to lose all redeeming qualities, letting the worst aspects of his personality grow and take over until it's all there's left of him.

What made Snow do stuff like poison political adversaries and constantly beat down the districts so they don't rebel? A thirst for power. A thirst he's always had, born from the feelings of entitlement he held thanks to his family's previous status. He deserves that power in his mind, so he'll do anything to get it. Power, control, and influence are his driving motivators. It's at the back of his mind throughout TBOSAS, and by the time he becomes a gamemaker it's the only motivation he has left. Those traits, the things that pushed him to do what he did, they were always there. There was just more stuff to cover it up. Stuff that fell away with time. Snow is a terrible person, but people pretend he's some poor misunderstood baby who just needed a hug because... why? Because he has trauma. And that's the root of the problem. Does he have trauma? Absolutely. He survived a war, he lost his parents, struggled through poverty while being raised by propaganda from the Capitol and was arguably groomed by Gaul. Sound familiar? It's kind of like Anakin. Horrible childhood filled with loss, less than amazing figures raising him and grooming. Except people use the opposite argument for him which is equally wrong: he's traumatized, so we cannot blame him.

Yes we can.

Trauma does not justify your actions. It might explain them, but you are still accountable for your own actions. Snow murdered people, starting with Bobbin, and every single time it was his choice to do so. It doesn't matter why he made that choice, because he still did it. He ruined countless lives and ended nearly as many, both directly and indirectly. No amount of trauma justifies that. I've seen people claim he's just an anxious young boy who's a poor victim of circumstance, and anyone who doesn't believe so is simply unable to separate the actions of an 80-something-year-old from the 18-year-old, but... No. That's one of the most braindead takes I've ever heard, I'm sorry. Snow hadn't committed the crimes of his older self yet, but the behaviors he shows in TBOSAS are the ones that led him to doing so later on and ignoring that is just stupid. I don't need to judge Snow based on his later actions to call out how fucked up he was in TBOSAS. Again, he chose to murder several people and deluded himself into believing he was justified. That's what makes him a great character. Bad people always believe, on some level, that they're doing the right thing. It's fascinating. But people take his words at face value when he says he's doing the right thing, and the whole point is that he's wrong. He's lying to himself. Because that's what people do sometimes. Snow's family was knocked off its throne, and Snow clung to the idea that the districts are beneath him and at fault to cope with that. He deluded himself into believing Gaul's dumbass theory to justify continuing the games.

It's the exact opposite of Anakin Skywalker: Trauma is relevant, it does inform your perspective on the world and your actions, but it does not mean you can do no wrong. Snow had every chance to be a good person: Knocking Bobbin out or running away instead of murdering him, joining the rebellion with Sejanus, staying in district 12 with Lucy Gray and being honest with her. But he killed Bobbin. He fucked over the rebels and got Sejanus killed. He lied to Lucy Gray and destroyed any chance he had with her. Every chance he got, he threw into the fire without hesitation. Anakin leaned into being a bad person to forget the past, Snow chose to be one because it benefitted him the most. Neither of them are excused because of their trauma, their descent into villainy is simply explained. You know why? Because both of them created new victims. Snow was complicit in the murder of hundreds of children before becoming responsible for thousands more, he killed people with his own hands and ruined several lives over the course of TBOSAS. All that pain he caused isn't erased because we can explain why it happened. Even at 18, Snow has many things he should be held accountable for. War, being an empoverished orphan, being groomed, none of that nullifies the shit he's done. People who say Snow's just an anxious, young, traumatized boy are one side of the horseshoe theory of the myth of "the perfect victim". The "Anakin's Trauma Should Be Ignored Entirely" crowd are the other side. Which brings us to...

It's all horseshoe theory

To conclude the analytical part of my post, I'll bring it back to what I briefly mentioned in the intro to all of this. Agency. That's the running thread here. Both in cases like Anakin and cases like Snow, the fandom takes away all agency a character has in the story for the sake of justifying one's feelings about them. Anakin was born a monster and he was always destined to be evil. It wasn't the trauma, it wasn't the events of the story, he's just bad. On the other hand, Snow is a good person who was made to do terrible things by his trauma. It's all the trauma and nothing else. His bad childhood caused him to be this way and it has nothing to do with his own worst personality traits. See the connection? In both these instances, the characters had no influence over who they became. With Anakin, nothing could've had any influence because he's just born wrong. With Snow, it's everything around him that shaped him into who he was. Both scenarios completely ignore the character and focus on external factors to explain everything. One demonizes trauma victims by saying those that went off the rails are just bad people and there's nothing to be done about it, the other infantilizes trauma survivors by saying they shouldn't be held accountable for their actions just because they have trauma and it's only when they're older and should know better that we can bring consequences down on them.

Victims of trauma should be held accountable, though. The only thing the presence of trauma should change is what kind of accountability. Merely locking them up won't change anything, they should receive help to work through their problems while residing in a place where they cannot hurt anyone else. Including themselves. That is what acknowledging trauma is useful for. But this? This is doing nothing but stigmatizing trauma survivors even more than they already are, and I hate it. And you wanna know why I hate it? Because I've been both sides of this horseshoe, and it nearly got me killed.

The part where I talk about my Tragic Backstory(TM) to explain why this bothers me so much

This'll be a little heavy, so while I'm not gonna go into detail I advise you to please be careful. If you're not in the headspace to handle talk about actual real life mental health issues, feel free to stop reading here. I'm putting this at the end for a reason. If you really wanna know why people's perspective on Snow disturbs me but don't wanna risk getting triggered, skip to the last bold line in this post.

Without going into detail, I've dealt with some pretty big mental health issues throughout my life. One of them is PTSD, so believe me when I say I understand that trauma can heavily influence one's actions in ways even they don't understand. But I had to learn the hard way that there's a difference between explaining and excusing. I used to believe that, because of my previous experiences, I was entirely justified in doing what I was doing. Kind of. At that point, I didn't know that what I was experiencing was PTSD, but I did feel justified in my actions the same way Snow does. I explained every bad thing I did away and wrote it off as nothing or sometimes even as a good thing. Granted, I never did anything as big as committing murder, but I don't live in a country as dark and horrible as Panem so we'll chalk it up to that. As I grew older, I started to recognize the ways in which I accidentally hurt the people around me, and eventually had the realization that my past does not in fact justify the pain I was causing people entirely uninvolved in what happened to me. They had nothing to do with that, and shoving all my pain onto them the way I did was wrong. My view of myself pivoted to the other side of the horseshoe. If I'm not justified, am I... am I bad? Am I evil? Am I just born wrong?

I don't know how to explain this to anyone who hasn't gone through this themself, but that is a horrible feeling to have. To feel like you're just bad and there's nothing you can do about it... It kills something inside of you. A hope, a will to keep going and keep trying. Why bother when you cannot be fixed? I've lost the will to live at two points in my life, and that was one of them. And now I get to see both of these mentalities be repeated by dumbasses who don't understand the first thing about trauma. It's... not fun. It's grating and aggravating in a way I can't accurately bring across with just my words. It makes me wanna scream and laugh hysterically until I cry.

Here's the thing: I relate to Snow, and the way people perceive him disturbs me on a visceral level.

As I said, I justified my own bad behavior the same way he does. I convinced myself I was a blameless poor victim who had no hand in their actions. But just like Snow, I did. Not nearly as much as I would have liked, but I did. I learned to control the defensive mechanisms my trauma gave me, and I grew from it. Seeing people defending Snow with the same arguments that kept me from ever getting over what happened to me, crying out that he's just traumatized so none of it's his fault... it disturbs me. Because they're outsiders who should be able to see the pain he caused others and realize that nothing changes the fact that he did that. But they don't. They're me, without any of the personal stakes that kept me trapped in my own delusions. It's all just fiction, and I know that, but it hits just a little too close to home for my comfort. It's a little too raw and a little too real for me to just let it go and move on again like I always do.

I'm sorry for the rant, I didn't mean to make this post this long but I guess I hope you find something of interest in here that made it worth reading? Have a nice day 💜

[thehollowprince]

I've already said before how much I can't stand Screenrant, and yet I fall for this clickbaiting rage bait every time I see it among my Google recommendations. Seriously... every time.

And I don't make posts like this because I think it's going to change the minds of anyone who irrationally hates the Jedi because someone in the fandom convinced them too by using guiding terminology. No, I make posts like this so that when someone goes looking, they'll find opinions that differ from what's popular, as well as using facts from the source material to back up those opinions.

So we're just going to go through this, point by point, and highlight the flaws in this "argument."

The only question I have for this is Why?

Why would an organization dedicated to defending peace and justice throughout the galaxy not have a base of operations? This is a question I'll repeat later on for one of these other "points," but it just bears repeating. How is the populace of the galaxy supposed to reach out to these new Jedi for help if they can't find them?

And while it sounds nice on the surface to travel the galaxy and train padawans as she goes, it's totally impractical, considering she's the ONLY Jedi doing this. Like, do you have any idea how long it would take to train new Jedi this way?

Like, I'm all for Jedi traveling the galaxy to bring peace and all that, but to do that, you have to have Jedi to travel.

I know this point has been talked about repeatedly, but let's once again hash this out.

The Jedi did not forbid relationships!

Relationships happen all the time, from romantic to familial to friendship. The Jedi frowned upon attachment. And before anyone hops on this post or jumps into my inbox, please look up the philosophy of nonattachment as it pertains to Buddhism and Eastern Philosophy.

Also, look up the difference between an attachment and a connection.

A Jedi's whole purpose was to put the needs of others first. That's their whole schtick. And if a Jedi couldn't put their commitment to the Order and the Republic above their own wants and desires, they were always free to leave. There are plenty of other Force-based groups in the Galaxy that didn't frown upon attachment or relationships. I don't understand why so many people think that the Jedi should have to change their entire philosophy to account for a few selfish individuals.

Go back and read the books and comics from over the years. With very few exceptions, every time a Jedi tried to have their cake and eat it too, they fell to the Dark Side. So Rey's Order actively encouraging relationships (because that's what Fandom is about anymore) is just going to continue the cycle of the Jedi Order falling because "how dare this ancient organization follow its rules and not throw out their entire philosophy" and thus starting the cycle all over again.

Yes, because having multitude of voices with differing opinions and viewpoints is bad. They should all just do their own thing, Lone Ranger style, regardless of how such chaos defeats the entire purpose of the Jedi.

Side note: what movies was this author watching where they came up with the idea that the Jedi Council thought they owned the Force?

The ranking system was there for a reason.

Can you imagine a new initiate coming to Rey and saying, "Hey, I know I've only been training here for two weeks, but I deserve to look at that Sith holocron because I'm a Jedi and we're all equal members with no rank."

You want them to be vigilantes.

Just say you want them to be vigilantes.

The entire point of the Jedi being such a prominent part of the Republic was to avoid bias in justice. We've seen how Senators and politicians and law enforcement could be bought off, but that wasn't the case for the Jedi. They were impartial peacekeepers and their place within the Republic was a vital part of that.

To me, this feels like the author wanted the Jedi to say, "Since you're mean to us, we're not going to help you," which is the complete antithesis of what the Jedi stand for.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I know your toddler is Force-sensitive, and your house falls apart every time they have a temper tantrum, but I can't help you. We don't offer training until they're older and have already caused massive damage. Best of luck."

Yes, absolutely. Because the defenders of peace and justice throughout the galaxy who should strive to remain calm and keep a level head in the heat of the moment should have LESS training. We just want cops with lightsabers, right?

The Jedi did not join the Republic as a military unit. All the times they acted as military commanders throughout their history was at the insistence of the Republic. Hell, they were drafted to lead the clone armies during the Clone Wars.

The Clone Wars, which I'd like to remind everyone, were orchestrated by several Sith Lords over the span of a decade, after decades more of destabilizing the galaxy. The Jedi specifically tried to stop the Clone Wars from happening, but the deck was stacked against them.

All of this blame on the Jedi for the failures of the Senate and the direct machinations of a Sith Lord who chested his way to the highest office of the Republic.

I highly recommend these people look up what George Lucas has to say about the Jedi and the Force. He specifically says that the Dark-Side is unbalance.

I'd also like to point out that the first mention of "the Light Side" was in The Force Awakens. There is no mention of "the Light" in the Original Trilogy or the Prequels. The "Light" is the balance.

This has been discussed multiple times by multiple people, but apparently it bears repeating.

When did they not "pay attention" to Force visions?

Because in both Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, when Anakin has dreams about his mother and Padme, respectively, he doesn't tell Obi-Wan or Yoda the full extent of them. If he had told Obi-Wan what his dreams were about, they probably would have gone to save Shmi. And it was Anakin's own actions that led to Padme's death, the very thing he'd been dreaming about.

Hell, even when Luke had his Force vision in Empire Strikes back, if he'd heeded Yoda and been more cautious, he wouldn't have lost his hand. I want to remind people that when Luke showed up, Han Solo was already frozen in Carbonite, and Lando was able to save the others without the Jedi. All Luke being there accomplished was him receiving an ass-whoopin' and the revelation that he was Darth Vadar's son.

I don't know why people are so dedicated to trying to smear the Jedi at any and every opportunity, but it's getting boring. Especially when all one needs to do to refute these claims is to just watch the movies.

Like I said in my earlier post, this author wants Rey to create an entirely new organization and just slap the name Jedi on it for branding rights.

[tonyglowheart]

Thinking again (more, lmao) about The Contentious Chapter 45, and my Why It Needed to Happen thesis, so here are some more semi-organized thoughts on this topic:

Why It Needed to Happen: Yan Wushi edition. So, we don't ever really know what specifically Yan Wushi went through/experienced in his life and more specifically his childhood - we get hints here and there that seem to imply or can be interpreted to be that he's gone through some shit as Xie Ling, and that's (partly? mostly?) what led him to reinvent himself as Yan Wushi, and then there's also the New Years Extra that has a line about how he'd (already) witnessed countless evils borne of the human heart - but the text does tell us he has this belief that human nature is wicked, slash humans can be pushed to do wicked things no matter how "good" they may think themselves to be. As far as YWS knew by Chap 45, SQ was no different -- he'd received no proof yet that SQ was different, he just hadn't found SQ's bottom line. This is sort of similar to the abused child or abused dog thing, where they will lash out to try to provoke the abuse they're expecting either to "get it over with" or so they know where the line is with this new person (except these are purposeful tests that YWS is doing and not like a reactionary mechanism). Basically, this needed to happen for YWS to know/believe that Shen Qiao is different from what he's observed of human nature -- he needed this proof of concept that the world isn't just rival(/rival peers) -- the closest to equals he has, and rabble. This needed to happen to show/prove - to him and the reader - that there may be a thousand Chen Gong's in the world, but there is only one Shen Qiao.

Why It Needed to Happen: Shen Qiao edition. Shen Qiao is a good guy, but he WAS very sheltered and naive. He holds his beliefs firmly, but his worldly experience was limited and so his character was untried. It's the "it's easy to be a good person when you're rich" idea -- he doesn't know if he has a bottom line yet if he would snap. It's easy to say that you will stay true to your principles when they're not tested - it's when they're put under the stress test that you can truly say that you know yourself and your character. Yan Wushi threw him into a fire, yes, but in many ways this was a tempering of his character, much as one would temper steel. This whole experience very much was an absolute low for Shen Qiao, and it's easy to see fire (analogy) as only destructive, but fire can also be a creative force -- e.g. the forging/tempering analogy from earlier, fires used to clear out brush and weeds choking up the land so that new growth can germinate in the new fire-enriched soil, that kind of thing. This isn't to say that Shen Qiao doesn't experience agony in this metaphoric fire, but he also very much textually experiences a sort of epiphany and rebirth. This is both a spiritual (character-based) sort of rebirth, as well as a rebirth of his wugong. It's after this and after traveling with Yan Wushi that we see Shen Qiao exhibiting much more wisdom when it comes to people, where he's not just naively believing and expecting the good in everyone (I don't have specific citations but iirc this is textual, there's whole parts where it's like, before he might have thought x, but now having traveled with YWS he knows xyz, etc.) Yes this was "bad," maybe, but it tempered Shen Qiao, catalyzed his recovery/"rebirth," and overall led to the strengthening of his wugong and his character. (The conversation they have in Chapter 124 underscores this point, actually.)

Why It Needed to Happen: Yanshen edition. Or maybe more like, what does it do for us from a yanshen perspective lol. Cuz imo, it does a lot. I've posted about this elsewhere before lol, but like aside from the above for the YWS side of things, an argument can also be made that this was YWS going "wait. oh shit, I'm experiencing... feelings? for him" (narrator voice: that feeling was friendship, although he had never experienced it before) and like, lashing out at Shen Qiao like "that'll show you for thinking of me as a friend (and maybe making me feel friend-like feelings towards you..)" -- he was already softening before this (him digging that grave for the dead boy unasked, for example), and the way he's like. ....so you think of me as a... friend? before he pulls the rug from under SQ's feet. But this is important because it tells us that YWS *does* care. He's flippant and teasing and gives the impression that he does it for personal amusement and not really out of affection or anything, so really Shen Qiao may be his latest target of amusement, but it could be anyone. But the fact that he reacted like this to Shen Qiao declaring him a friend instead of just dismissing him as not being worthy of being his friend, not being on his level, etc (I mean he does also do that, but it's not the FIRST thing he does, and also I'd argue that when he Declared it contextually he was purposefully trying to hurt Shen Qiao's feelings), or like, just laughing at him and ridiculing SQ for something so preposterous -- this tells us that he IS feeling some kind of way about Shen Qiao already, that something HAS changed and Shen Qiao went from "latest disposable amusement" to at least "point of fascination." We're not in the endgame yet with this, but it does show that for all that Yan Wushi is trying to influence and "experiment" on Shen Qiao, traveling with Shen Qiao/being around him is conversely having an effect on him, too. That he's not just some unchangeable flat "evil" archetype but is also a complex character that responds to stimulus/reacts to his environment and is capable of being influenced by Shen Qiao. Theirs isn't just a one-sided relationship of one influencing the other or one trying to change the other-- it already by this point is a mutual communion between the opposing but complementary worldviews they hold and embody. They're already like if the taijitu were people (sans the dots in each section-- that comes through the course of the story with their mutual temperings). The same or similar actually holds for the SQ side of things too. Actually, the very fact that he feels anguish from this act and finds it a betrayal is also a very huge indication that Shen Qiao also already cares. I mean, yes, he declared YWS his friend, but like YWS said when they were burying the boy - you didn't even cry when your shidi Yu Ai betrayed you - or later when YWS was about to face Hulugu and SQ says if he were to do it, it would seem natural, but if a friend were to do it, he'd worry. and YWS is like, a friend? If LQY were to face Hulugu would you feel the same way? -- Basically, a similar idea holds here. Would you feel the same way if it were someone else? Yu Ai betrayed him, we didn't see him experience this level of individual, personal anguish. Chen Gong betrayed him, he just kind of sighed and moved on. But coming from Yan Wushi... he reflects on how much it hurt, actually. I still hold to my theory that SQ fell first and by this point was already at least kind of in love with YWS, but even that aside, the very fact that this "betrayal" hurt SQ shows that Shen Qiao, like Yan Wushi, despite seeming above worldly/petty matters slash is disconnected from such normal-people-problems like getting your feelings hurt or, godforbid, heartbreak -- are very much not above that, at least, not when it comes to each other. They're not just two ships passing each other in the night -- they're already mutually entangled together, and this growing bond will only grow stronger as they travel more together

[lovemyromance]

"SJM is a fated mates author, y'all don't know SJM like we do"

I'm sorry - are any of you secretly SJM? Because that's the only way you'd be able to 100% predict what SJM is going to without acknowledging what is printed in the books.

Even SJM's friend Steph or Ava or whatever tf her name is was told to PIPE DOWN about her theories bc SJM DID NOT ENDORSE her running her mouth about Gwynriel on every social media platform.

Fun fact: You can read every SJM book. You can read every romance book. It STILL wouldn't give you any more clue into what is going to happen in the next book of ACOTAR, unless you are picking up on the clues and setup currently happening in the books.

Like why are y'all out here using SJM liking Jamie from Outlander and outdated Pinterest posts instead of actually what is printed on the page?? Why are y'all using deleted Facebook comments from a decade ago instead of the words SJM has written in her book?

There are patterns that exist in writing, yes. But not every book, not every story is going to be 100% the same. Someone has an equal chance of breaking a pattern as well as conforming to it.

And at this point in the ACOTAR series, SJM has laid out more groundwork and setup for Elain to break her mating bond rather than accept it.

That's it. That's the difference.

It doesn't matter what SJM has done in the past. Elriel is no exception to the rule of building up to a plot twist. Elriel is not an exception to SJM's "true love and choices prevails" theme.

At any point, an author can change their mind. What they cannot change, is the setup they have already laid out, the existing plot development they have already written.

SJM is not going to change all the setup she has carefully laid out for Elriel, just for Elain to decide "actually yk what, I'm going to do what everyone expects of me and accept my mating bond with Lucien like a dutiful lil mate, even though I have feelings for someone else and I can't stand being in the same room as my mate."

Eluciens are arguing that "fated mates will prevail because SJM always writes fated mates" when

1. no she doesn't ALWAYS do that

2. The setup we have seen so far has showed Elriel, NOT Elucien

Like I'm sorry but I'm not holding a mating bond Elain has explicitly said she doesn't want, a mating bond Lucien doesn't even seem to care about, over the fact that SJM has written canon Elriel moments instead. Nearly every important moment concerning Elain has been tied to Azriel, NOT her mate.

"But SJM is a fated mates author she would never-"

She. Just. Did.

It's not her fault or Elriels fault that y'all can't see it and have chosen to put your faith in some misplaced belief that you know SJM better than herself ig.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Down the Water Well - Feysand Oneshot

Never go near the water well. For eleven years, Feyre obeyed her mother’s command. Except now, she was standing on the edge of that barren circle, staring at the stone well at the top of the hill. The wooden signs were worn and weathered and still illegible to her. She always wondered, did the signs warn about what waited at the top? She’d never been brave enough to ask. Come, a dark voice beaconed to her. Come, Feyre. See what’s inside. See what waits for you.

A contribution to @officialrhysandweek Day 1: Lord of Nightmares

Read on AO3

-

The first time Feyre saw the water well, she was eight years old.

It wasn’t the well that she’d noticed to begin with. It was the large wooden posts staked into the ground, each boasting signs that she could not decipher. There were many of them, an equal distance apart, charting the perimeter of a large dirt hill so that those who approached on any side would be certain to see whatever was written on the signs.

She didn’t care much about what they said at the time. What caught Feyre’s attention was that the grass stopped growing beyond the posts. On one side, a green, flush carpet. On the other, dried, shriveled grass. Her eyes followed the dead zone up to the top of the hill, where a large circle of stone erected from the earth.

Feyre didn’t know what it was, but the moment she rested her eyes on those stones, she felt the air drop in temperature. It was midday, not a cloud in the sky, yet smoky darkness clung to the air around the hill. She knew, without quite knowing how, that the well was responsible for the decay around it. Like it leeched life from the surrounding earth. Fed on it.

It was eerie. Strange. Though Feyre had never been a skittish child, the sight chilled her. And yet. Yet she stepped toward it. Curious, drawn like a puppet being pulled by the strings. She wanted to know what lay on top of the hill, why it was there.

Yes, it seemed to call. Come to me. Come see.

“Feyre!”

She paused, her toe just past the perimeter of dead earth. Glancing over her shoulder, Feyre spied her mother striding toward her on furious footsteps. Feyre thought that was strange, too. Her mother rarely paid any attention to what she was up to. They were on the outskirts of the village because a seamstress lived here, in the cottage that her mother had swiftly exited. Feyre had snuck out as soon as her measurements were taken, and she’d assumed her mother would be too preoccupied with choosing designs for Nesta and Elain’s dresses to notice that her youngest daughter had snuck away.

Ordinarily, Feyre might have been delighted at the attention, if her mother’s face wasn’t twisted in rage. When she caught up to Feyre, she wasted no time with scolding. Instead, she grabbed Feyre’s arm so fiercely that her entire body jostled, and in Feyre’s shock, she bit down on her lower lip. Copper burst into her mouth a moment before tears swelled behind her eyes, and her sobbing began.

It was impossible to forget through her wailing and the unsightly blood dribbling down her chin, splattering to the dirt, the way her mother scooped her up and hissed, unsympathetic, “Never go near the water well ever again, Feyre.”

-

Never go near the water well.

For eleven years, Feyre obeyed her mother’s command.

Except now, she was standing on the edge of that barren circle, staring at the stone well at the top of the hill. The wooden signs were worn and weathered and still illegible to her. She always wondered, did the signs warn about what waited at the top of the hill? She’d never been brave enough to ask.

Come, a dark voice beaconed to her. Come, Feyre. See what’s inside. See what waits for you.

Darkness. Death. Something worse, perhaps.

Come, it repeated, more insistent. Less patient.

“No,” she said. What was she doing here?

Wind twisted her unbound hair, pulling at her nightdress like it was trying to tug her past the perimeter, away from where it was safe.

You’re hungry, it purred. Come to me, and I’ll see that you’re fed.

“No,” she repeated.

You would let your family starve?

“I know how to hunt,” she protested, tearing her eyes away from the well, towards the forest she ventured into every morning. “I don’t need you.”

Oh, but aren’t you tired, my little huntress? Tired of fighting and scraping to survive? You’ve been working so hard for so long. Let me take care of you so you can rest.

Rest. That sounded so nice. There was scarcely enough food to supplement the energy she expended on every hunt. And though she often came home worn to her bones, body so, so heavy, it was always difficult to sleep. Knowing what waited for her.

Lies. Lies, lies, lies, she chanted to herself. It wanted something from her and knew what to say to draw her in. She never liked to examine too closely how the creature knew so much about her.

She whispered, “What are you?”

Your loyal servant.

Feyre snorted.

It’s true, the midnight voice crooned. Free me, Feyre, and I am yours. Your every desire is mine to fulfill.

“Like… a wishing well?” she asked, feeling so childish to even entertain the idea. But she remembered the stories, as a child, of the water wells that would grant any wish for a coin dropped inside them. The cold stone at the top of the hill didn’t evoke the same whimsy, but she could certainly feel the power emanating from it. Pulsing, like a heartbeat. In time with her own.

There was humor in that voice as it answered, in a sense.

“What has you trapped?” That was a less intimidating question than what she truly wanted to ask—Why are you trapped?

Humans are fearful creatures. They push away things they cannot understand. But you are not like them, Feyre. You could free me. My huntress, my salvation. I’ll grant you any wish for that debt.

Don’t ask how, don’t ask how, don’t ask—” How?”

The darkness rumbled as if pleased by her question. Come to me. I will show you.

It wasn’t a far distance up the hill. Ten strides at most. How deep was the well, she wondered? If she fell in, would she ever come out? For years, she had nightmares about tumbling inside, falling down, down, down into an abyss of darkness.

“No,” she said, shaking her head and stumbling back from the perimeter. “No, no, no, no—”

The ground beneath her began to shake, and dirt and stone started to ripple. Feyre screamed so loud that she could again taste the copper in her mouth from years ago, when she’d bitten her lip and bled onto the earth, and her body began shaking, shaking—

“Feyre!”

She blinked, opening her eyes to find Nesta’s snarling face leaning over her in their shared bed. Elain was hovering, too, her pretty face pinched with concern as Feyre shook off their touch and pressed a hand to her head. It felt as if something had coiled around her mind and squeezed, leaving a blistering migraine in its wake. A usual remnant of her nightmares.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You were screaming—”

“I’m fine.”

The words were as cool and icy as the stone atop the hill. Nesta and Elain didn’t say anything, only shared a glance with each other. Feyre couldn’t stand the words they were exchanging, passing their judgment without saying anything at all. With a huff, she pushed out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Nesta asked as Feyre began shoving on her hunting clothes.

“Where do you think?”

Feyre hadn’t caught anything in the woods yesterday. Somehow, the creature in the well had known that, known that she was more desperate than usual. Maybe her mind was weak from the hunger.

“I’ll be back by sundown,” she said, grabbing her bow and slinging her quiver of arrows over her shoulder. She didn’t wait to hear if Nesta or Elain responded before she darted out of the rickety door of their decrepit cottage.

Feyre glanced down the path to the woods, the same trek she made every morning, now laid with a fresh layer of snow that had settled in the night. If she was wise, she would venture down the familiar path and check if her snares had managed to catch anything. But there was another path. One she never allowed herself to glance towards.

But some residual talon of the nightmare must have still been hooked in her mind, because she found her neck turning. And then she was staring down that path, the one which led to the outskirts of the village, where the water well would be waiting for her atop a lifeless hill.

Come to me, Feyre, she heard it call. The voice of her nightmares. So disarmingly sweet, gentle. Lulling. That’s it, the voice purred as she took a step, then another. Such a good girl for me.

She continued walking until she passed the seamstress’s cottage, her footsteps swallowed by the silent, killing snow. It was winter. The animals in the forest had treaded past where she was willing to follow. She was desperate. Desperate enough to look, though she promised herself she would not do anything more.

Her mother had made her promise to never come back here. But her mother was dead, and their family was starving, and that voice was calling to her. Chanting, Feyre, Feyre, Feyre. How bad would it be if she looked? What could possibly be waiting for her that was worse than the winter woods?

Feyre paused outside of the circle, squinting at the signs like she might finally be able to make sense of them. B… Be… war…

Come closer, Feyre darling.

There was no use trying to read them. If her mother was truly determined not to forbid her from walking past the signs, she would have taught her how to decipher them.

Feyre took a deep breath that condensed in the winter air, blending with the clouds hanging low around the hill. Drawing her bow, she notched an arrow and drew the string taut. Then, she took her first step past the circle. Even the wind died.

Despite the snowfall in the night, not a single flake had fallen to the dirt at her feet. It was dry, utterly devoid of life, apart from the energy humming through the earth, crackling in the air. Feyre was reminded of standing outside in a thunderstorm, the way every single hair on her body stood at attention.

Feyre, the voice sang, louder now.

The hill was steep enough that she felt breathless by the time she ascended its peak, and her heart was thundering, though she suspected that had less to do with exertion. The well looked ordinary enough—a large circle layered in stones and flattened at the top. It was boarded up beneath slates of iron held down by four large rocks. Maybe she could kill whatever was down there, and the nightmares would finally stop.

Each of the stones was heavy. She pushed them, unable to lift, and gasped as they tumbled to the ground with large thuds, kicking up small clouds of dirt. Whatever lived in the well, it would certainly know she was here, though the voice had gone mysteriously silent. Like it was holding its breath. Waiting.

When she’d managed to push the last of the stones to the floor, Feyre pushed the iron slates just enough to create a small opening. She winced at the scrape of rusted metal and more so at the pitch-black darkness she uncovered. Heart leaping in her throat, Feyre pushed the metal a little bit further, hoping to let more light in.

She gasped as a pair of violet eyes met hers, and a white-toothed smile flashed through the thick shadows.

“There you are, Feyre darling,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”