#I don’t want to be guilt-tripped into forcing anything between us

[crysta1ized]

a theory on ep11’s preview

firstly, if you’ve guessed/ theorized that non was still alive, you get 10 points!

if you also guessed that perth would help him (in that case, thanks to tee) you also get 10 points!

knowing that tee helped non escape, was definitely a plot twist. he basically lives at his uncle’s mercy, is forced to work for him and has to follow every single one of his orders so his father doesn’t die. which is a pretty shitty situation!

we saw previously that he showed guilt after non got busted for the fake accounts instead of him, but to help him escape from that very uncle? you’ll never fail to surprise me, tee!

after that, tee gives an envelope to non and tells him he’ll get him out of there.

now, what is in this envelope? my first thought was obviously money. but i also thought, what if it was a plane ticket? it’d be safer for non to get the hell out of bangkok (or even thailand) to be sure the uncle and his men could never get him. a one way flight, non leaving without looking back.

i think that with the help of perth, tee could’ve gathered enough money to pay a ticket. i mean, that would’ve benefited tee a whole lot too. non forever out of his hair, not causing any more problems. disappearing without a trace. his uncle thinking he got rid of the troublemaker.

but what happened to mr keng then?

firstly we have no idea of the extent of his injuries. we guessed that non’s were only bad enough to knock him out on the roof, but the uncle might as well have killed keng for good.

i mean, he was hit with a car, which is way worse than a few punches. in the best case scenario (for him, cause i want that bastard dead), he only got a few bruises, but the most logical one would be that his legs are broken, as well as a few ribs maybe (depending on how hard the car hit him).

if we assume he’s alive, like non (which i seriously doubt), i don’t think tee would’ve helped him at all. he’s already risking everything to save non, he wouldn’t try saving both, especially because keng doesn’t mean anything to him. he probably never even had a conversation with him.

so in my opinion, we won’t see the teacher ever again, unless he found another way to escape, such as being rescued by the police as his disappearance could’ve been noticed after some time.

now onto the fun part!

white is seen entering the arcade place, where we’ve already seen non & phee meeting up and making out at.

which means we’ll finally get teewhite whole’s backstory!

my depressing theory is that we’ll get a cute little montage of their love story, and they’ll show us how cute they are, with their little puppy love, opposites attract shit just to snatch it from us right after.

mark my words, they’ll make us love teewhite and after those little flashbacks with bright colors that distracted us for a moment, we’ll get back to our depressing and dark present.

4 possibilities after that:

best case scenario: while we get a contrast between the past and how in love they were and acted, nothing terrible happens. tee explains to the group what was revealed to the viewer in the flashbacks, that he ended up helping non and that he’s still alive. he righted his wrongs and while white is shaken up, he’s glad tee isn’t just a bully who guilt tripped a kid into money laundering, he did feel guilt and saved him from his uncle.

same as above, tee reveals everything to the group but white doesn’t forgive him. he feels betrayed and mad that tee hid that from him for so long. in white’s eyes, tee is no longer someone he can trust, or hide behind.

tee dies

white dies

while i believe those 2 last options can happen, i don’t think they’d happen at that moment. tee’s reveal scene will probably be at the beginning of the episode while the following one with phee & new may happen soon after, which is why those 2 options seem less likely to happen then.

new is clearly urging phee on to shoot.

but how? in the last scene of ep10, fluke is the one who has it and he clearly doesn’t want to let it go. he let white out of his grasp and is now pointing it at tee.

but fluke is clearly out of it, and is the one suffering the most from hallucinations, which made him shoot top even though his only principle was clearly to never act, to keep his hands clean of anything that could prevent him of becoming a doctor. too late now!

someone could take advantage of his delirious state and while he’s distracted, take the gun from him, like white, who’s on the ground, kinda behind fluke and now out of his sight. which is when phee could take the gun, as he’s the unofficial new leader and appears trustworthy as he just exposed new.

but who is phee pointing the gun at?

i think it’s most likely fluke. he’s clearly losing his mind and the hallucinations are making him aggressive, like top. which is why they may have to kill him before he kills someone else.

phee clearly wants to make the right decision, surely wants to kill him or just hurt him because fluke is an active threat. but tan just wants to see them all gone! he clearly has nothing to lose left, now that phee exposed him, this is his last chance to avenge his brother.

alternative theory:

phee might be pointing the gun at someone else.

according to how tee’s revelation ends, especially how non’s story ends, something might happen after that.

phee wouldn’t be pointing the gun at someone who didn’t deserve it, who wasn’t a threat to the group.

so why would it be tee? in my opinion, non escaped the country, end of story. but maybe something happened to him just before he could get out. then new would get mad at tee, blaming him. tee fights him. then he would represent a threat. or maybe the hallucinations come back and he gets violent.

then of course new would be happy to see phee shoot tee, who was the whole reason non even got involved with dangerous mafia shit in the first place.

the last scene is new, lighting a cigarette.

why would he be smoking in the middle of all this? like he has time to do that?

maybe it’s just a meaningless scene they’re throwing in the preview so they don’t have to spoil too much stuff.

but, still, new is the only one who's going through with his plan, and he wouldn’t waste time on lighting a cigarette! unless it’s truly chaos, and like we know, he smokes to de-stress.

creepily, when i saw the scene the first time, i thought ‘this is his last cigarette. they’re holding him at gunpoint and they allow him to smoke one last time before they pull the trigger’ because he’s clearly shivering. but that may be way too far as i don’t think any of them would shoot anyone in cold blood if they weren’t actively threatened.

but a more plausible theory would be that they’re forcing him to smoke. in the scene where new is urging phee on to shoot, phee looks at him ‘like, what the fuck?’ like he’s not liking new telling him what to do at all.

maybe then, phee doesn’t shoot anyone, not fluke, not tee, but instead turns on new and points the gun at him. maybe phee really doesn’t want any kind of revenge for non anymore as his brother became too violent for his liking. but phee wouldn’t shoot new.

he could however hold him at gunpoint, and force him to smoke one of the drugged cigarettes, one with an X. maybe so he isn’t an active threat to them anymore, urging them to kill each other and to cause more chaos. they’d be on equal ground as he’d start hallucinating too.

what do you think?

#dead friend forever #dff #dff theory #dff the series #thai bl #dff ep 10 #dff white #dff new #dff tan #dff phee #dff jin #dff fluke #dff top #dff por #dff tee #dff teewhite #dff pheejin #asian lgbtq dramas #lgbtqia

[iamafanofcartoons]

RWBY Bumbleby Development Scene V7C7

Alright, let me talk about one that is a bit more underappreciated amidst all the amazing scenes they have.  Their talk in V7C7 is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show for multiple reasons.  But my main reason is the amazing portrayal of a healthy disagreement.

Usually bring this one up as often as I can, especially when comparing Yang and Adam, because it's one of the scenes which truly highlights how great of a foil Adam was, and in a way still is, for Yang.  Disagreements are inevitable. Regardless of the relationship you have  with a person. No matter how close you are with someone, you can't always agree with them. And that's okay. The important thing is always in how you both handle it.

Whenever Blake and Adam disagreed on something, Adam never listened to Blake's concerns, he always brushed  them aside or even went as far as to guilt trip her.

You don't have to end up agreeing with whoever you're having a disagreement, it's fine if you don't.  But the least you can do is listen to their concerns and take them to heart, which Adam never did.  And that's ultimately what makes the V7C7 scene so great for me. Blake and Yang don't even end up agreeing on the whole Ironwood situation, and that was fine, they didn't have to.  Yang listened to Blake's concerns, then put on the table her own point of view. 

In the end the conversation switches topics to Adam's death (which I'll get to in a bit), but it's clear in Volume 8 they didn't end up agreeing with each other's points of view here Yang still believed they should have told Ironwood the truth, while Blake didn't And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

In the end nothing changed between them due to the disagreement because this is a healthy relationship.  That was a healthy discussion between two people with different points of views.(the FNDM could never lmao)  It's a discussion which, along with Ruby and Yang's  disagreement as well, showed that just because you end up disagreeing with someone you love, that doesn't mean you love them any less.  Because that's what a healthy relationship of any kind is all about. Communication.  And that leads to the second part of the conversation  which solidified this scene as one of the best in the show for me, the talk about Adam's death.  Now obviously, I would have loved a bit more focus on this, but I am content with what we got too.  Because in the end it's once again an amazing comparison between Yang and Adam.

You can tell from her surprised face from the end of the conversation, but Blake didn't really expect her words to change anything.  Because that's what she was used to, her words not holding any weight and being brushed aside.  Her body language, the way she wraps her arms  around herself which we saw back in her argument with Adam too, it shows just how small and powerless she feels in both moments

But this is Yang. Blake's words hold more weight for Yang than she could have realized. Agreeing or disagreeing, it doesn't matter Yang never wants  for Blake to be forced to do something she doesn't want to. 

 And it's truly heartbreaking in a way how you can see Blake's surprise. How she was not used to her words being listened to.  But then the surprise breaks into a smile as she realizes that yes, this is Yang. Not Adam.

That Yang always listened to what she had to say regardless of if they agreed or not.  And all of this was such a great portrayal of a healthy disagreement. Of communication in a relationship.  And to top it all off, this all happens while that incredible instrumental of an  acoustic version of Trust Love plays in the background.  Because that's what they choose to do. To trust in each other, to trust in the love they have for each other and open up. 

https://twitter.com/SAlle1304/status/1635417982125113344

#rwby #iamafanofcartoons #rwby v7 #rwby volume 7 #yang xiao long #rwby yang #rwby 7 #rwby blake #Blake Belladonna #yang x blake #yangxblake #rwby meta #rwby character analysis #rwby character discussion #rwby bumblebee #rwby bumbleby #bumbleby #bumblebee

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

if ur taking request what's ur headcanon on yandere damian with cinnamon roll!reader

Yandere! Damian Wayne x Cinnamon roll! Reader

Damian Wayne x reader or Damian Wayne/reader

Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader or Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 2257 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, imprisonment, adult Damian Wayne (inspired and mostly based off of Damian in Batman beyond & Injustice 2: Gods among us), obsession. Other than that, there's no s*x or anything of the like.

Damian and you probably met through one of his brothers. Maybe you were a vigilante in training and they were the ones being your mentor. Or maybe you had been an old classmate of Tim’s. Whatever it was, I can imagine they introduced the two of you. Damian wouldn’t have usually walked up to someone like you, he had diluted himself into thinking he was only interested in the sarcastic and semi-stoic type of person. Yet, when he met you, the two of you just instantly clicked, like something in Damian’s life just felt right for once. 

The green-eyed man was overwhelmed with this feeling at first, being mean to you in the beginning, to cover up for the fact that he genuinely enjoyed your presence. However, when you didn’t fight back with him and instead just asked if he was doing alright, if he wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him and if there was anything you could do to cheer him up, he suddenly felt as if it was simply wrong to ever be rude to someone like you. You were just so genuine and it almost made him burst into a million pieces, he had never met someone like you. There was certainly no one like that at the League, and most others seemed to just be out for their own gains, whenever they inquired about how he felt. It was simply a fate he had resigned to, given that he was indeed Bruce Wayne’s only blood child and thus the one who would inherit the majority of his assets. 90% of the people he interacted with were all out for his wealth and fame… but not you. No, you simply cared… for some odd reason that Damian couldn’t discern.

He would certainly remain suspicious of any underlying malignant intentions to your actions, but slowly he started to feel more comfortable in your presence. You seemed to genuinely care for him… and while entirely strange to him, he ate it up. And who could blame him? It felt nice being cared for on such a profound and thorough level. There was nothing he liked more than hearing you inquire about his safety, it made him feel like he was finally being appreciated for his personality and not just for being a wealthy socialite or for being the Robin, and a damn good fighter. 

I can imagine that the two of you would spend a lot of time together after Damian came to the revelation that you were actually great company and he started to consider you a friend. He would let you pet all of his pets, from Batcow to Jerry. Heck! He’d probably sometimes just plop Alfred the cat on your lap so that you’d be forced to stay longer with him. “Come on! Y/N! You can’t just push Alfred away! Hear how he’s purring, look at how happy he is with you! It’d be a borderline crime to disturb him!” … He would definitely guilt trip you into staying. If you’re afraid of one or even all of his pets, no problem! He’d spend hours and days slowly conditioning you to the more harmless ones like Jerry and Alfred, and if you really don’t want to be near them, he can accept that… for a while, at least. Eventually, he will force you through a slow and careful conditioning process, so that you can at least be near them without feeling threatened.

Other than being with his pets. Damian would also make you sit as a model for him, using your cinnamon-roll nature to guilt you into sitting still for anywhere between half an hour to half a day just so he can get the portrait just right. Sure, he could’ve made the portrait in half of the time he keeps you there, but he enjoys your presence and this is a good way to make you stay around him for an extended period of time, without one of his brothers or his father bothering him. 

It would take him quite a while to become yandere, and even longer to fall in love with you. He is satisfied with the amount of control over you, which your personality allows him to gain. However, when it happens, it doesn’t happen separately. It happens all at once and it comes down on both of you hard. 

Perhaps, if you’re a vigilante sidekick for one of his brothers, it happens when you’re on a mission together and you end up in mortal danger. Maybe you gave the enemy a chance for redemption, which they promptly used to attack you, or perhaps it was simply an accident which landed you with a gnarly injury. If you’re not a vigilante, but rather a civilian, maybe it was simply that you were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up on the wrong end of a rogue’s weapon, making you injured. Whatever it was, it was at this point, that Damian realised that he was deeply in love with you, that he couldn’t live without your sweet words and comforting gestures. It was, however, also at this point where the green-eyed vigilante realised that he had to become more protective to protect you.

With Damian’s newfound protectiveness came a certain possessiveness as well. He would sit at your side for days at the hospital, holding your hands and cooing sweet words in your ears. When anyone outside of the medical staff showed up, however, he would turn ballistic. Especially, if it was Tim or whichever other brother who had mentored you, he blamed them for your injury and vowed to never let them near you again, just in case they hurt you. He’d try to keep these outbursts away from your line of sight, but he might slip up and do it right in front of you. In which case you may or may not scold him, if you do, he’ll pretend to take it to heart, but in reality, he’s planning on how he can get rid of whoever disturbed the two of you. In Damian’s eyes, the best way to keep you safe was to keep everyone else away from you.

When you were finally signed out of the hospital, Damian would not only pay for all bills involved, but he’d also take you to his home, rather than your own. He claimed that this was the best way to let you fully recover, as he would be available 24/7, and not only that, but Alfred would be available to do all normal chores within the manor, that you would’ve usually had to deal with yourself, like cooking and cleaning. Even if you protested, Damian would manage to convince you that it was indeed the best decision… he paid for your medical bills, after all, why don’t you just let him take care of you?!

While at the manor, Damian would be with you most of the time, except for when he’s out as Robin. As a matter of fact, if you are a civilian, this will be the point where Damian reveals his secret identity to you. He’s already sure that the two of you will marry, so why wait with the big revelation, when he can simply get it out of the way now? Obviously, this knowledge would make you trust his judgement more if you weren’t aware of it before. How could you not? This is the Robin! Crime-fighter extraordinaire! Surely, he would never want anything bad to happen to you, right? Besides, he’s also Damian, a dear friend of yours. Those two combined would probably fool you into believing his good intentions for longer.

If you’re a university student, Damian would force your teachers to either film their lectures for you or teach over the internet, lockdown-style. Yeah, as a Wayne, he has that type of power, most colleges and universities are on the Wayne’s payroll, so they often feel obliged to give in to any demand coming from the family, in fear that if they oppose, they’ll lose their funding. 

As you stay at the manor, I can imagine that you’ll be sleeping in Damian’s room, on a separate bed, next to his. Thus giving him better access to nursing you back to health. It was a pretty bad injury which you received, after all. Your placing has the added advantage(… disadvantage?), of giving you a front-row seat to watching Damian slowly bring in your stuff to his room, practically moving you in without your consent. 

Damian will slowly start to drop hints about the true romantic nature of his feelings towards you. Bringing a rose, gifting you a whole bunch of stuffed toys and practically anything else he can come up with to win your favour. He’ll constantly make small contained comments about how he adores your soft personality. It will take a while for him to build up the courage to confess to you. You’re probably almost ready to go home when he drops the, “I love you more than life itself, Y/n” bomb. 

If you accept his feelings, he’ll move you in immediately… not that there was much left in your own home anymore… but still. He would be cocky and spread the news to the entire family within the hour of your “yes”, and the entire vigilante community will be aware within the day. Yeah, he likes to brag about you. Who would have ever thought he’d be able to pull someone like you? Certainly not him! It probably wouldn’t take him too long to propose and get married to you. The Al Ghuls are known for being intense romantic partners, just look at how Talia acts with Bruce! 

If you do not accept… Oh boy! Damian will chain you to his bed with a pair of handcuffs around your ankle, the other end fastened to his bed post. He’d threaten to kill your family if you reveal your newly made prisoner status to his father, brothers or Alfred, and he is most certainly not kidding. He does blame your family for your injury as well. Why didn’t they protect you better? Especially since he found himself so capable of exactly that! You will never leave that bed for more than half an hour or when you’re eating supper with the rest of the family, not until you finally accept his feelings, at which point he’ll act as if you said “yes” in the first place.

Married life with Damian as a cinnamon roll would be delightful, even though he’s a yandere. He’d protect you at all costs. Someone was rude to you? Dead. Oh! You felt hurt by something someone said, if they’re not online, they’ll be gone within the hour. If they are online, he’d take the time to comfort you to the best of his ability… which is admittedly limited… Actually, come to think of it, I actually doubt that he’d let you have access to any online forums, at least not without his supervision. He doesn’t want you to get emotionally hurt by the anonymous pricks that could lurk there, after all. Other than that, he’d do everything to channel his soft side. Cuddles? He’ll do his best not to get restless or flinch. Cooking together? You betcha! But he will be the one handling the knives, he doesn’t want you to get hurt. Movie nights? Absolutely! You get to choose the movie, as long as it’s not a scary one which might frighten you… also, he would roll you into a blanket burrito quite often, especially when watching movies… he just really likes seeing you wrapped up in layers of soft cloth, it makes him feel comforted to see you so… safe? Also! Damian would definitely make sure that you remain healthy! At least 8 hours of sleep and a healthy diet! … The biggest downside is that you will only be interacting with Damian and maybe Dick, Bruce and Alfred… maybe Jason, but definitely not Tim. Yeah, you’ll be kept away from the paparazzi as well. They’ll know that Damian is married, but to who? They have absolutely no idea. 

In conclusion… Damian will keep you safe and sound, at all costs, your personality will be mostly to blame for this mentality of his, but it is also the thing he loves the most about you. He will kill, maim and otherwise hurt anyone who tries to get between you, even his own family. No one will ever hurt you again… because no one will ever interact with you again, except a few select people. Your family will be entirely removed from your life, Damian doesn’t consider them safe. Safety becomes Damian’s prime goal concerning you, someone so sweet and genuine should never experience the hardships of life and he will make sure that you’re protected and right within his grasp 99% of the time, excluding his nightly escapades, where he trusts Alfred to keep you safe… the man was an MI6 agent in his youth, after all. The fact of your possible imprisonment will be a secret between the two of you… and possibly Dick, who would never go against Damian’s happiness, no matter who got hurt… if you ever try to tell Bruce or anyone else, Damian will do anything to keep you and I mean anything… I wouldn’t advise telling anyone. Just keep quiet and enjoy being very safe and very loved by the one and only Damian Wayne.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it! It was a bit rushed and short since I finished this up before school, but I've honestly never written about a cinnamon roll reader before, didn't even have one in mind, (maybe with the exception of my teen titans! reader x Yan! Damian Wayne), I always try to make my readers more of a sarcastic and savvy one, but I hope this turned out okay and that you enjoy it!

#damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #damian wayne #yandere x reader #dc x reader #yandere damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you

[arcanarubinaito]

MC & M6 Dynamics

Each section contains a mini-playlist with six songs. It’s followed by a general analysis of what I aimed for each playlist to convey when listened to.

A song they’ll sing to/with each other. (In Lucio’s case, specifically him to Auric.)

A song that summarizes the start of their relationship, post-death.

The dynamic from Auric’s POV.

The dynamic from the character’s POV.

An instrumental song that fits their current dynamic.

Bonus song.

Muriel’s playlist will have nine songs, in an attempt to encompass both where their dynamic is currently and where I aim to take it. I’ll show the pattern below using the numbers from above to show what each song is meant to represent.

(Present, first four songs)—2,3,4,5

(Future, last five songs)—1,3,4,5,6

Brothers.

It’s a term that both use without even needing to think about it. Family, siblings, so incredibly close that sometimes it takes Asra a moment to remember they weren’t always in each other’s lives.

Long before they lost half their heart, it already felt like it was missing. The experience forced a lot of their trauma and unresolved issues back into the forefront. They began retreating frequently once Auric was able to take care of himself, taking lengthy trips to get away from it all before it consumed them entirely.

Even without his memories, Auric still loved him. He looked up to him, depended on him. Frequently, Auric wondered if that was why Asra kept leaving—if Auric loved him too much and scared him away.

He stayed. Even when it was painful, sleeping all alone in the loft they shared. Auric stayed right where Asra left him, waiting for them to come back.

Can one still love when they feel so angry? Auric couldn’t figure it out. As time went on, the resentment would build up and all Auric would feel was guilt for it.

Love and care, soured by resentment and loneliness. Auric is finally pulling away, keeping things from Asra that he never did before. Asra wants to fix it, and they’re hoping to god it isn’t too late to do something.

Best friends; confidantes, even.

They knew each other before Auric died. They met at the wedding, and quickly figured out they had a bit in common. While they weren’t particularly close—they led very different lives and rarely had the chance to interact—they were still fond of one another.

When they met again, Nadia had been expected someone brighter and happier. That was who she met in her dreams after all. Instead, she was faced with an anxious, slightly irritable apprentice. And it felt horribly, horribly wrong.

She took extreme amounts of care to make sure Auric was comfortable at the palace. One of the smaller guest rooms, (mostly) practical outfits made from comfortable fabrics, she even incorporated foods into the menu that Portia recommended the average citizen of Vesuvia would enjoy.

Nadia found a unique confidante in Auric. It wasn't long before she confessed her memory loss, and now the two know they have something they share.

In many ways, they leaned on one another. For two people that felt lonely throughout the lives they remembered, there was nothing better than to encounter someone who knew how they felt.

Nadia wants to foster more trust between them. If ever Auric should need anything, Nadia will be right there for him to assist in whatever ways she can.

What else can they call themselves but family? Their relationship fluctuates, depending on their situation.

Meeting Julian for the first time was an… experience. But glimpses past Julian’s façade quickly revealed that he was desperate, not dangerous. Didn’t save him from getting smacked with a broom though.

Honestly the song dedicated to the start of their relationship is more or less just the vibes Julian gave off to Auric at first. Yes, it’s a Will Wood song. You can’t make a playlist without one, I don’t make the rules I just follow ‘em.

It would be a lie to say Julian didn’t have a healthy fear of Auric at first. That wasn’t what Auric intended, but he got a little intense and Julian didn’t know Auric well enough to realize that’s not how he is normally.

There’s a lot of running into each other because there’s a lot of following each other around. Auric tracked Julian down for the purposes of his investigation; Julian started following Auric around to make sure he didn’t run into trouble.

One thing they both could relate to is a longing for adventure and exploring. On top of that, the feeling that they had to stay behind for one reason or another, and in Julian’s case, the guilt that came from finally leaving and pursuing his interests.

These two keep each other in check. Both are impulsive and self-sacrificing; which means they’re perfect to keep each other from diving headfirst into something without thinking, or otherwise doing things they might regret. (Cough, cough, Julian nearly giving himself up to the guards so Auric could escape despite them both being in a very secure hiding place.)

Auric is yet another person Julian hopes can forgive him, for his past and for what he’s planning to do.

Best friends in that do everything together, giggling school girls talking about their crushes, going to the ends of the earth for each other kind of way.

They clicked faster than Auric did with Asra. Like the platonic version of falling in love at first sight. Auric found it incredibly easy to talk to Portia, and vice-versa.

See the thing is, they both love with their entire beings, absorb the stress of everyone and everything around them, and deal with it through borderline overworking themselves. It cancels out with each other. There’s no feeling like they have to prove themselves, and they can feel relaxed.

Auric hadn’t smiled like that in months. His cheeks hurt, his feet ached, but it was worth it to dance and let go of his stress for a couple hours with Portia.

It really just felt natural to talk to her. She was warm, sweet, and caring. Auric felt the most like himself, the most relaxed he had been in ages. That’s not to say he isn’t comfortable around the other M6, but they all carry stress or stressful situations with them that make it hard for him to really let go and unwind.

Boundless energy and curiosity. When Portia and Auric had the time, it was pursuing books in the library or exploring the secret passages. If their schedules didn’t line up, sometimes they’d use their time off to help each other out with whatever they were working on.

There is trust, but also secrets. And that is perfectly fine; they’ll tell each other in good time.

Once upon a time you could describe their relationship as friendly rivals. As a child, Auric often engaged in prank wars with the new Count.

Now they’ve become mortal enemies, their laughter and antics lost in the past. A small part of Lucio missed it, which spurred his actions a little; but whatever kindness and affection he might’ve had was swallowed up in anger and resentment during those three years.

Death was not kind. Or in Lucio’s case, the lack thereof. Three years allowed his anger and desperation to fester and rot, lashing out at anything that wandered into his abandoned wing.

Originally there was a sort of cat and mouse dynamic. It started when Auric first stepped foot into Lucio’s wing; taunting, chasing, even outright hurting Auric in his limited capacity. Auric didn’t remember him, which made it all the more frustrating for Lucio. Although slowly it became a point of interest.

Once he had his own body, his attention shifted away from Auric for a while. It returned swiftly once he completed his deals and he began to realize the little apprentice actually posed a threat. It’s at this point as well that Auric’s fear of Lucio transformed to full-fledged hatred. (Morga’s death was the catalyst.)

It didn’t help that The Devil and The Fool had their own issues going on, and that was beginning to influence things.

Blood will be shed because of their mutual hatred. But while Auric tries to keep it contained between them, Lucio frankly doesn’t give a fuck who gets caught in the crossfire.

They may have begun as strangers but they end up as partners.

Of course, the road to that point is long and slow when one can’t remember the other, and the other doesn’t like the first one.

Muriel barely knew Auric before he died. His opinion only really started forming after Auric’s resurrection; ‘The dead should stay dead.’ is what he told Asra. And he stood by it; he saw firsthand what trying to resurrect Auric did to them. And he saw the aftermath of it too, and how it changed his best friend.

The first time he properly met Auric post-resurrection, it was only because Asra needed someone to keep an eye on him the first time Asra took one of his trips. There wasn’t anything Auric did wrong in particular, but Muriel left with a sour taste in his mouth anyways.

Auric was afraid of him at first. The first several visits were like that; reactions of fear that never quite ebbed away. Muriel could deal with that, he was used to it. What really started to disturb him was when Auric began to slowly become more comfortable around him, despite the curse.

It’s not fear but it slowly developed into wariness. Muriel long discovered that his fear was not absent entirely; it remained attributed to whoever remembered him. And while Auric didn’t remember him entirely, something still did—something small, just under the surface. So whatever fear and anxiety Muriel was developing about the situation mimicked that.

Though to someone who lived a few years now with very limited fears, that was more than enough to trigger some avoidance and general distrust. Especially because he couldn’t control this; he had no say in whether or not Auric remembered him. And in that tiny, under-the-surface way, that was terrifying.

After this, he watched Auric only from a distance and very, very rarely would he interact with him. Warning him about the palace the morning Auric set out to see Nadia was the first time he had spoken to Auric in a good year.

… which was then subsequently followed by multiple interactions over the span of a week, and Auric’s slight recognition began to turn into vague familiarity.

To be honest, Auric was starting to freak out. He was insanely attuned to his own memory out of paranoia that he would lose it all over again; so it was very easy for him to notice all the missing ones. And it really didn’t help that they were cropping up more frequently.

Thankfully Asra returned and Muriel wasn’t needed anymore. And by the looks of things, Asra wasn’t going to leave for a while yet; good. Muriel wanted to put as much distance between himself, and Auric, and these weird feelings of slight fondness and concern as possible.

Asra asked him to stick around longer anyways. Auric was accepting only so much help from them, and they didn’t trust Julian to keep Auric safe and out of trouble either. Great, now he was stuck watching TWO people he didn’t like.

Muriel had to wonder just how much fortune hated him, for Auric to stumble across him that fateful evening in the forest. Sure, he was bleeding out from a gaping wound in his side and sure Auric unthinkingly healed him up and spent his magic reserves…

… and then they were traveling together…

… and getting to know each other…

… fuck.

Now he understood exactly what ‘butterflies’ meant. Now he knew a different kind of fear. Now he knew a different intensity to the fears he used to have.

His knee jerk instinct is to run away from it all when it gets too intense. But Auric didn’t really let him… which was surprising. And nice. Everything Auric did was surprising, mostly in good ways.

Whatever happens, they’re prepared to weather the storm together.

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcanarubinaito #vesuvia weekly #mc/li dynamics #auric the apprentice #auric x muriel #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #the arcana julian #julian devorak #ilya devorak #the arcana muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the hermit #the arcana Portia #portia the arcana #pasha devorak #the arcana lucio #lucio morgasson #count Lucio #Spotify

[soulofapatrick]

Stitches - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You wake at Bill and Frank's with no memory of how you got there 

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: blood; mentions of injury

Notes: Part Two of Save Who You Can Save 

Y/N’s POV

I’m drifting in and out of consciousness, hearing mumbles and yells before I’m passing out again. I’m being forced to drink water and eat things but it’s all dry and heavy on my tongue, hard to swallow as my body keeps yelling at me to sleep. I’m sometimes rolling onto my side and coughing things up, a stabbing pain in my chest so bad it knocks me straight back out. Time and place is lost to me, the only normals being the gentle sounds of Joel and Ellie’s voices and the soft whispers of Tess and the brush of gentle hands keeping my hair out of my eyes. 

When I flutter my eyes open Tess is kneeling by my side, a soft smile on her lips. She looks younger, happier and her eyes is no longer swollen. I must have been out for a while for that to heal. She’s humming softly and carding her hands through my hair as my head is somehow now laid on her lap and we’re in a field. Why are we in a field? Where’s Joel? Where’s Ellie? Something’s not right, I shouldn’t be here. Neither of us should be here but the feeling of Tess’ fingers scratching over my scalp has me wanting to sink into her embrace but something is yelling at me to get up. I’m sitting up, pulling Tess into a bone crushing hug and just taking the time to remember every detail about her: the way she hold me like a mother holds their child; the hints of blue in her grey eyes; the deep chestnut of her hair and the way her voice sounds when she whispers, “You can’t stay here. Joel needs you.” 

I’m jolting up, eyes flying around the room and a broken cry of Tess’ name on my lips before a door is slamming open and Joel’s appearing. I’m in a room. It’s familiar. The smell of paint and fresh flowers filling my senses. We’re at Bill and Frank’s. I’m in the room they made for me and there’s water and a half eaten sandwich on the bed side table, bloody bandages stuffed into the bin and my hands are flying down to my ribs. They’re tender, splattered in a galaxy of purples and greens and there’s a freshly healing stitch going up my side. Joel’s eyes are full of guilt as he moves towards me, every movement of his cautious, as if scared he’s going to hurt me by doing anything. 

“I saw Tess.” I whisper, throat dry and voice wrecked, when he finally sits on the edge of the bed, “I saw Tess and she told me I couldn’t stay with her.” There’s pain in those honey eyes, “Joel. Where’s Tess?” 

I know where Tess is but I have to hear it. I won’t believe it until I hear it. Joel just looks down at the stitches, the rough pads of his fingers ghosting over them instead of answering and it has me gripping his shirt and yanking him towards me. He’s pliant beneath my eager fingers, pulling him up so he’s next to me so I can rest my forehead against his, laying facing each other. I card my hands through those salt and peppers strands when he lurches forwards and buries his face in my shoulder, tears quickly wetting it and he’s gripping any part of me he can as if I’m going to disappear too. It makes my heart ache and I’m whispering sweet nothings to him, just holding him and comforting him in any way I can as he grieves. Something has changed between us, Joel’s showing his emotions to me and I don’t know what to do. 

Tess was the person Joel went to, I was just the spare parts. I was the one who would be taken on smuggling trips if they needed an extra set of hands, someone needed to be persuaded with flirting or there were spaces too small for Joel or Tess to fit into. I was acknowledged if I was useful otherwise I was gone, part of the shadows that clung to the shitty apartment Joel had. I was a forgotten piece until the stakes were high but now there was only two of us. Joel had lost his partner and here I was just filling in the empty space until the mission was done then we would most likely part ways. I’d find a settlement with Ellie to seek shelter in and Joel would reunite with his brother and the world would be as right as it could be then. I would fight and die for Ellie while Joel could live his days out with his little brother and all would be well in this fucked up world. It would be how things are meant to be. 

“Y/N?” Joel’s calloused hand is cupping my cheek, my eyes fluttering open to see him watching me with puffy and red eyes. I just hum, taking anything from him I can and he’s moving away too soon but all I can do it let him. He’s guiding me up, my legs feeling shaky under the fluffy carpet and I watch as Joel grabs the clothes on the chair before coming back over to me. He helps me slip my arms through the sleeves and I want to protest when he crouches in front of me to the do the buttons up. I don’t though as I want as much of him as I can get and it’s like he knows it. He’s cupping my cheek again after, a small chuff leaving his throat as he seems to scan my face as if memorising all he can before he’s pressing a kiss to my forehead and standing back up. I follow, taking the sweatpants from him and stepping into them myself despite his protests before my hands are grasping his forearm so he can help me to the living room downstairs while I try regain my balance. 

The house is the same with paintings that Frank’s done hung up everywhere and the smell of fresh coffee invades my senses as we finally make it down the stairs, the creaking of the floorboards alerting everyone to our presence. Frank and Ellie are sat on the sofa watching a movie and Frank’s laughing, explaining everything Ellie won’t get because she was born after the outbreak. Bill isn’t anywhere to be seen but the smell of rich gravy and garlic wafting from the kitchen lets his whereabouts known. Ellie’s up in a split second and hugging me tightly, apologising over and over again when I cry out in pain when she squeezes my stitches. I just hug her back, pressing a kiss to her messy auburn hair before it’s Frank turn to envelope me in a safe hug. Frank has to be the best hugger, hands down, and he lets me just stand there with my head on his shoulder until I’m ready to let go. 

I’d have stayed hugging him for eternity but the crash of the kitchen door swinging open has me jumping until I register it’s just Bill being stubborn and trying to carry five plates at once. Ellie rushes over to him and grabs a plate while Frank guides me to my usual seat between him and Joel while Ellie settles opposite Joel and there’s a space opposite me. I have to swallow the lump in my throat as my body naturally just expects Tess to sit there, sending me a bright smile and her hair in a ponytail that she asked me to do half an hour earlier but instead I’m facing the empty chair. A firm hand lands on my thigh as I pick up my fork, blinking back my own tears, and I try to focus on anything other than the chair taunting me with the promise of something I’m never gonna get again. 

Instead I turn my attention to the full meal in front of me. There’s meat, an assortment of veg, mash and gravy and it smells heavenly. The meat is tender and slices so easily, practically melting in my mouth at the first bite, causing a small groan to escape my lips and Frank’s laughing, sapphire eyes crinkling before he speaks, “Joel told us your favourite was gammon.” 

My head flies over to Joel who shrugs lightly, focusing on his own plate of food but there’s a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. It’s barely there and hard to miss, I might be imagining so I just murmur my thanks and go back to eating like I’ve never eaten before as I don’t know how long I was out, how we got here or what Frank had to do to me and why I had to be cut open. I thought I just broke a rib or two but everything is blurry after Joel accidentally smacked me in the ribs. My hand seems to go to massage the stitches as it feels like there’s an itch under my skin that I can’t quite get and it has Joel moving his hand from my thigh to grab my wrist, “Hey, none of that. Don’t want to ruin Frank’s handiwork.” 

“I’m sorry about that, your rib…” Frank swallows his mouthful before continuing, “You punctured a lung. You’re very lucky they got you here when they did.” 

Bill lets out a quiet grumble and for some reason it has me grinning as Bill will always be Bill. Paranoid schizophrenic according to Frank. Then again that’s what Frank calls Joel too and he’s not wrong really as they really are very similar. The first meeting of Bill and Frank was like looking into some distorted mirror of Joel and Tess and I think that was the first time I realised I liked Joel as I finally saw the bond between him and Tess. It broke my heart but I had kept it to myself but Frank and his ability to read people had me convinced there was nothing between them except a platonic bond but he didn’t see the way they cuddled in bed or the glances when they thought I wasn’t looking. I’d never tell Joel but I really did consider staying with Bill and Frank when my companions left me there, sneaking away in the early hours of the next morning and Frank waiting for me to hand me two letters. One from Tess and one from Joel. I still have both of them tucked away in my favourite book at the bottom of my bed here as I don’t want to get them damaged. They’re the first admittance of some form of love from them and I intend to keep them forever. 

Bill’s splutter has me snapping out of my thoughts, Ellie having just asked “Can I put your hair up?” Frank snorts and Ellie laughs, getting up and pulling a hair tie out of her pocket, “Oh damn man your hair is soft I expected it to be greasy and gross!” Bill goes to turn his glare on her but she smacks his shoulder so he just goes back to angrily cutting up the gammon on his plate. Despite Bill’s hard exterior he has a heart of gold and Frank’s right he looks like a paranoid schizophrenic with his long thick beard that Frank has managed to tame over the years for him and shoulder-length brown hair that is now in a ponytail. I think Bill’s face has always been stuck in a permanent scowl, the only one ever to really remove it is Frank and it’s in the quiet moments when he thinks no one is looking. Frank on the other hand is sunshine in the form of a person. He’s charismatic and energetic, kinda has to be to win Bill's affection. Frank’s sensitive and connect with anyone emotionally. They argue a lot but it never lasts, a few minutes of standing opposite each other and glaring before one of them comes up with a compromise and it makes me wish for something like that with someone. They’re the best of the best in this weird world and I love it. I love them. If I could pick my family I would so be the child of Frank and Tess, both of them having taken up parental figures in my life as I’ve grown. 

“Pretty as a peach.” Frank’s laughing as Ellie sits back down with a satisfied smile and I’m glancing opposite me to see Tess’ reaction, wanting to see her big smile and the way her grey eyes dance with amusement but all I get is the wall and my heart sinks again. My appetite fades and I’m just pushing my food around my plate until everyone else has finished. I don’t miss the concerned looks that are passed over my head before Joel is squeezing my thighs to get my attention again. 

I raise my eye to him, blinking away the tears, and his whole face softens and the creases fade away a little. Our plates are being taken and suddenly I’m alone with Joel and he’s turning my chair so I’m facing him. His large hands move up to hold my face and he ducks his head enough that I have to look him in the eyes before he speaks softly, “It’s okay darlin’. You’re allowed to grieve too.” I just fall forwards, my forehead falling to his shoulder as I squeeze my eyes shut because I don’t want to cry again. The pain of everything is slowly starting to make itself known, starting in the back of my head and my side and I’m gripping Joel’s wrists as he’s still holding my face, thumbs rubbing over my cheekbones soothingly. 

“M-migraine.” I choke out as stars begin to dance around my vision, blind spots appearing and disappearing in an aura. I always get these auras before I get a migraine and Joel’s had to take of me through them before so he’s acting instantly. His thumbs move up to rub my temples, trying to keep the migraine at bay enough for me to get some painkillers in me. They’re handed to Joel by someone who smells like lemongrass, gunpowder and ginger: Bill. I open my mouth obediently and take the glass of water being pushed into my hand, downing the pills quickly before going back to leaning my forehead on Joel’s shoulder. 

“Alright, that’s enough for you today. You’re tired.” Joel’s voice is gruff and full of too many emotions for me to decode right now so I just let out a small sound of acknowledgement. His arms are moving, one wrapping around my back and the other under the bend of my legs before he’s lifting me, calling to the others that he’s taking me back to bed and they all chortle goodnights to me and I try to say it back but nothing really happens. My body feels heavy and weightless at the same time as Joel carries me back upstairs, the bed feeling like a heaven when he sets me down. Then panic replaces the bliss when those familiar arms move away and I’m reaching blindly for him, “Hey, hey, I’m right here darlin’. Just getting into something comfier to sleep.” 

The bed dips behind me and we move in sync, Joel always staying when I have my migraines. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls my back against his chest so I can feel his heartbeat and the heavy weight of his arm if my vision disappears completely. That’s only happened a few time but the first time scared all three of us.

*

My vision was not there, zigzags and stars dancing around me instead and I blinked again to make sure I wasn’t being stupid and have my eyes still closed. I could hear Joel and Tess talking about their routes and what they needed off the people they were meeting, they were to my right meaning they were probably about to leave. The throbbing in my head calming me a little as I wasn’t suddenly permanently blind, no I was just having a visual migraine. 

I stretch, trying to act as normal as usual as I’m not going to burden them with my migraines as well as they seemed stressed. My legs and hands shake a little as I pull myself to my feet, both of them greeting me and I reply, hoping I met their gazes correctly or they’d get suspicious. A cup of that herbal tea Tess managed to find sounds perfect right now so I picture the layout of the apartment in my head and make my way towards the kitchen with the confidence of a madman. I was doing so well, stepping around my pack which I remember just throwing next to the coffee table and I move a little to my left to avoid said coffee table but my knees hit something solid and I’m flying forwards. 

“Y/N!” Joel and Tess cry out, concern lacing their voices as I buckle, the coffee table isn’t where it should be and now I’m on the floor with a sprained wrist as well as a blinding migraine from trying to catch myself. Two sets of hands grip my shoulders and upper arm, helping me to my feet before I reach out for the person to my left. I must look like a right lunatic, hands waving in the air but those familiar hands grab my wrist and guide my hand to his cheek where the rough stubble feels right. 

“What’s wrong?” Tess asks, touching my other shoulder as I keep my hand on Joel’s cheek, picturing his face in my head. 

“Migraine,” I mumble, looking in the direction of my feet as if I can really see, “Visual migraine. ‘M blind ‘till it passes.” 

“Blind?” It’s Joel talking this time and I just nod, feeling so stupid but those two sets of hands gently guide me back to the sofa before their voices become low whispers across the room for a few minutes. Then the front door is opening and shutting and a pack is being dropped on the floor before the voice surprises me, “What can I do? Painkillers? Bed?”

“Tea and painkillers then laying down in a dark room.” I mumble, not wanting to burden him, “I can do it.” 

“Stay.” There’s that sharp edge to his voice that he gets when I suggest something stupid so I just stay where I am, clicking my heels together as I listen to him moving around me. There’s the sound of bubbling from the pot on the stove and the heavy thud of his boots on the wooden floor and the rustling of him going through his back and it’s all a lot of sound. I’m covering my ears with my hands, wanting the pain to stop and it does. It stops with chapped lips against my forehead and a warm mug being pushed into one hand before his thumb coaxes my mouth open. Two pills are placed on my tongue so I take a sip of the peppermint tea to swallow them down. Joel hovers and I get the hint so I drink all the tea, the cup being taken from me almost immediately before hands take mine. I’m being led to a bed, it’s not mine, it’s too big to be mine and it smells like Joel. 

It has my heart racing when Joel manhandles me, hesitating each time he does anything so I have time to say no if I want to but I never do. He slides my jeans down my legs before it sounds like they’re chucked aside before those rough fingers ghost over the back of my bra. I nod and he’s unhooking it, helping me take it off without lifting my shirt or exposing me in anyway which is more than what most men would do, especially in the world now. 

Joel pushes me to lay down before his presence is gone to only return moments later with him climbing into the bed behind me, cocooning me in his warm and safe embrace. I think I imagine the brush of his lips against the back of my neck. 

“Joel… you don’t have to-“ 

“Shut up.” 

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

Tag List Form

Chapter One ⇢ Save Who You Can Save

Chapter Two ⇢ 

Chapter Three ⇢ Keep You Safe

Chapter Four  ⇢ Escape Kansas City

Chapter Five ⇢ Finding Tommy

Chapter Six ⇢ Revealing Secrets

Chapter Seven ⇢ Crossed Paths

Chapter Eight ⇢ Finding Family

Chapter Nine ⇢ Two Become One

Chapter Ten ⇢ Coming Soon

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

TAGS:

@words-are-cheap @clover723 @a-psych0s-w0rld @sexyvixen7 @iraot @gemimawrites​ @pedropascalsrealhusband​ @twopercentmilk​ @amythenortherner​ @sxnshinebxcky @nelsoomon @urnewghostfriend​ @grooveandshit​ @reyas-world @canpillowscry @androgynoysgaz @outl4wage @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @quinnverses​ @librafilms​ @leonkennedyslefthand

#Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller angst #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us smut #the last of us fluff #joel miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller fic #tlou x reader #tlou joel #tlou fluff #Pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction

[backslashhhh]

My One and Only

David ‘Hesh’ Walker x Reader

Genre: Fluff

WC: 1241

Authors notes: this is my first fic ever so don’t judge me too hard lmao, not proof read cause who has time for that. Also I apologize if the formatting is weird as I am on mobile. Definitely let me know if there are any mistakes and I’ll try to fix them

————————————————————

“How much longer?” You groaned. You had been walking for what seemed to be hours at this point.

Hesh said nothing but let out a chuckle, watching as Riley excitedly darted up ahead, only to fall back and loop around both his legs.

It was your second year anniversary, two whole years of dating this amazing man. You didn’t think that a measly two years was worth celebrating, but Hesh insisted on you both taking the time off work. He definitely deserved some time off, one thing you had always admired about him was how much of a hard worker he was. The man was practically married to his work. Made you a little jealous sometimes.

He finally spoke, “Just up past this hill,” he vaguely pointed to something that was very much a mountain, not a hill.

You groaned loudly. Hesh had always been more of an outdoorsy person, always taking Riley to the beach or on long hikes. You? Not so much. You had been burned one to many times in the great outdoors, be it bugs, sunburn, or even that one time you fell down a small cliff.

But you agreed to come on a camping trip with him. You were never able to resist the puppy eyes he gave you when he wanted something. So once you begrudgingly agreed he all but forced everyone to start packing. Riley made himself useful by padding around with his favourite toy in his mouth.

Hesh outstretched his hand “-kay?” You came to and realized you had been staring at Hesh with that dopey smile he always makes fun of you for while he was saying something. You smirk at him and nod, pretending you had heard what he just said.

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear me did you?”

“Nope.”

He huffed and pecked you on the cheek, “I’m just that handsome, huh” he pulled back with a shit eating grin.

You playfully swatted him and pushed forward, aiming to get to the campsite while there was still light.

—————————————————

It was hard to tell what time it was by the time you made it to the campsite, as dark heavy clouds began to roll in with the promise of a very wet start to the trip.

You and Hesh scrambled to set up the tent as quickly as possible, adding extra tarps under and on top. Riley, (ever the smart one of you three) laid himself down under some thick brush as little droplets began to fall.

You both had just finished up when the sky opened and layers of rain pelted down. You both scrambled inside and quickly called Riley before the wet dog smell became too bad.

A moment of quiet had settled between you and Hesh. Too quiet, for Hesh at least. You glance over at him and see him staring at you with a guilty smile.

When you raise a questioning eyebrow at him he finally speaks, “I’m sorry,” he glances down, playing with a stray stick that had made its way into the tent.

“For what?” You chuckle, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“The rain? I’m sorry this was supposed to be perfect” He clarifies looking at you with such guilt you’d think he was apologizing for stabbing you instead of the weather.

You beam at him, saying nothing but scooting closer to him. You pull a spare blanket from your hiking backpack and pull it snugly over the two of you.

“You really think the rain can ruin this? David anywhere with you is perfect, never mind the weather.” You peck him on the cheek.

“I know, I know. It’s just…” he trails off with unfocused eyes. “I don’t know, forget I said anything.”

At this you frown, why was he acting so weird all of a sudden. It wasn’t like him to get caught up on something as simple as the weather.

“It’s just what? You’re scaring me.” You giggle nervously. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

Hesh looks you up and down before taking a deep breath.

He starts “____, I’ve loved you for a while. I liked you for years before I even attempted to ask you out, and the fact that you said yes to dating a guy like me blows my mind to this day.” He pauses to run a hand through his hair. “As much as you and I both like to dance around the topic, my job is scary, the world is scary, there’s never a guarantee that I’ll come home to you.”

You say nothing, staring at him. It was true that his job held no guarantee of survival, but you had met the ghosts, and you trusted them to keep him as safe as possible. You trusted him. You wordlessly nod, urging him along.

“But I can guarantee that you are the single best thing to have ever happened to me. I know that we’ve only been dating for two years, but for me it seemed like an eternity. Two whole years you’ve put up with me being away for work, not knowing whether or not I’m coming home in a body bag. And I just- you always- I love you ____. I love you so much that it physically fucking hurts.” He stares into your eyes, somehow conveying what he’s struggling to say perfectly. “I wanted this moment to be beautiful and sunny, I even had a fucking speech planned but fuck it.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears.

“_____, I can’t just sit around and pretend like the time we spend together isn’t precious. If my time with you is limited, and god knows if it is, I want to be married to you for as long as I can be. ____, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?”

.

There’s a beat of silence as thunder rumbles in the background. At some point you had started crying. Even Riley was watching with canine interest.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “David Walker, is that even a question? Of course I’ll marry you. Yes, YES!” You cry out and rush to hug him while placing sloppy kisses all over his face. Hesh joined you in crying while stumbling to put the ring on your finger.

You immediately cuddled into him whilst holding out the hand with the ring on it. You studied the ring, feeling as though you had seen it before. Hesh nestled into the crook of your neck breathing contentedly before whispering out “It was my mothers ring.”

It finally clicked where you had seen it before. Hesh had shown you a photo of his mother a while back. It was a beautiful photo from her and Elias’s wedding. Hesh always joked that he was a carbon copy of his father, but you could always see some of his mother’s features shine through.

You cuddled impossibly closer into his side, now wrapping both arms around him. Riley, apparently getting jealous, crawled through the tent and rested his head in both your laps.

The sound of rain bounced around in your ears. The world was a cold and cruel place. But for now, if not just for just a moment, it felt as though nothing could hurt you, Hesh, or even Riley. Everything was perfect.

~

#cod x reader #cod: ghosts #hesh walker #david hesh walker #hesh x reader #gn reader #cod fluff #fluff #I’m so new to this please don’t be mean 😊 I’ll cry 😊 #cod hesh #logan walker

[shaesinflames]

Burned Bridges

Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo’s relationship has been incredibly strained since the rainbow infection began to spread, but no pony understands why.

Rainbow Dash tapped lightly on the door with her hoof. No pony answered, but she let herself in anyways. A tray of food balanced on one of her wings, and she had to maneuver awkwardly through the door to keep it from spilling. She squinted through the darkness; all the curtains in the room had been drawn, and only the faint sunlight that managed to slip between the cracks of the fabric illuminated the room. A small orange shape was hunched in one of the shadowed corners, and it shrunk further when open door let more light in.

“Hey, Scoot,” Rainbow called softly. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Scootaloo growled. “Leave me alone.”

Rainbow frowned and took another step inside, shutting the door behind her. She carefully slid the tray off her wing onto the table by the bed, then crossed to the other side of the room and pulled the curtains open. Scootaloo groaned as her fur was washed with sunlight, and she huddled further into herself.

“I brought you some food,” Rainbow said, standing over the little heap of feathers and fur.

“I’m not hungry,” Scootaloo snapped. She flattened her ears with her hooves and screwed her violet eyes tightly shut, rejecting Rainbow Dash’s presence with all of her being.

“Pinkie said you haven’t been taking your share of the rations,” Rainbow continued, ignoring the obvious hostility radiating off of the little pony. “You’re worrying everyone, Scoot. You have to eat.”

Scootaloo didn’t respond. Her tail thumped against the floor as if it were trying to shoo an annoying fly.

A tense silence followed as Rainbow fumbled for the next thing to say, and Scootaloo tried to pretend she wasn’t there.

Rainbow scoffed, her ruffled feathers making her wings twitch in agitation.

“You know, you can’t treat me like this forever,” she said with a glare. “You don’t have the right to try and guilt trip me. I saved you, Scootaloo!”

Finally earning a reaction, Scootaloo’s head whipped around, her eyes wide and glittering with resentment as she scowled at her former hero.

“Are you serious?” she snarled. “Have you gone insane? How selfish can you possibly be?”

“That’s not fair, I-“

“Saved? You call this being saved?” She tore on without letting Rainbow Dash get a word in, the anger bubbling inside of her rousing her to her hooves. “Cloudsdale has been abandoned. Pegasi are dying. I don’t know where my parents or my aunts are, or if they’re even still alive. Equestria is falling apart around us, and it’s all because you were such a coward!”

Rainbow’s wings shot open in indignation. She was taken aback by Scootaloo’s ferocity, but the fillies anger had only sparked Rainbow’s own. She thrust her muzzles into Scootaloo’s face, her teeth bared.

“You can’t pin all of this on me!” She spat. “You can’t fly, Scootaloo, the Rainbow Factory was going to take you one day no matter what. If I hadn’t been there, you would be dead.”

“I wish I was dead!” Scootaloo screamed, her voice catching in her throat as she choked out a dry sob. Tears brimmed in her eyes but she forced them back, her legs trembling as she struggled to hold her ground. “I would die a thousand times over if it would stop the infection from ever happening! I would do anything if it meant saving everyone. The fact that you don’t understand that means you really aren’t the pony I thought you were.”

Rainbow’s anger faltered, and a familiar look of regret and guilt darkened her expression.

“I didn’t know this would happen,” she murmured. “I only wanted to protect you. I never would’ve thought that…”

“If you wanted to protect me, you should’ve done something about the factory when you had a chance,” Scootaloo glared at her unsympathetically. “You could’ve told ponies. You could’ve revealed the truth and made a difference. You could’ve saved so many pegasi, but you only ever cared about yourself. Now look. We’re doomed.”

Rainbow’s head hung with shame. A long, sorrowful sigh escaped her, and she forced herself to straighten back up.

“I can’t change the past,” she resigned. “We just have to hope that Twilight can find a cure to save whoever is left.”

Scootaloo stared at her. She sat down heavily, as if her legs had lost the will to support her, and shook her head dejectedly.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, speaking more to herself than Rainbow. “I can’t do this…. I can’t do this… get out.”

“Scoot-“

“GET OUT!” Scootaloo shrieked, shaking her head more violently and stomping her front hooves. “GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!”

Rainbow stared at her in dismay, her mouth opening and closing as she grasped for something to say, but Scootaloo bellowed on and on without even pausing to breathe.

Rapid hoof-steps closed in from the other side of the door. With a thundering bang it flew open and slammed into the wall, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom standing in the doorway with terrified expressions.

“What in Celestia is happening?” Apple Bloom demanded.

Rainbow looked over her shoulder at them, her eyes wide with shock, but Scootaloo continued to scream as if she didn’t realize anyone had arrived.

Belle and Bloom raced over to their friend and threw themselves in between her and Rainbow, forcing the older Pegasus to take a few paces back.

“You need to leave, Rainbow Dash,” Sweetie Belle said firmly, meeting Rainbow’s eyes with a venomous glare.

“I-I-I was just-“

“You need to leave, now,” Apple Bloom reiterated, taking a step forward and forcing Rainbow further back.

She swallowed thickly and looked past them at Scootaloo. Her screaming had dwindled into a silent, breathless sob, and her entire body trembled like a leaf as she hid her face with her hooves once again.

“Okay,” Rainbow agreed, her voice tight as she backed out of the room. She paused in the hallway for a second, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Scootaloo,” she said as Apple Bloom slammed the door in her face.

#sorry if this is out of character I’ve never written any of these characters before lmao #mlp #my little pony #infection au #rainbow factory #rainbow dash #Scootaloo #sweetie belle #apple bloom #cutiemark crusaders #fanfic

[mischiefmanaged71]

The Love Hypothesis (7/22) - Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Strange, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors in the university.

A/N: AU! Stephen Strange is a Professor/Doctor at Columbia University and reader is a Ph.D. student (Reader - 28, Stephen - 34). Credits to Ali Hazelwood for the original story. This work is a piece of fiction. I have no ownership over anything, this is ff.

Pairing: Stephen Strange X FEM! Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Series Masterlist

As the time drew close to 11:00am, Y/N was almost done with Tom’s report. Organised under titles, size 12 font in Times New Roman, each section devoted to its designated focus area. Coming round to enter her lab, she glanced around the room, recognising the lack of women present. Despite trying her most to clear through the constant struggle of being a woman in STEM, she still found herself in a majority-male laboratory. 

Her gaze fell on her lab mate, Greg, who planted himself on the chair opposite with an aggravated noise. “Everything alright?”

“Not. At all.” he grunted.

She offered a sympathetic look, “May I ask why?”

He made eye contact with her, leaning his elbows on the table as he gripped a pen tightly, “Your boyfriend happened.”

“Who?” she blinked and Greg all but, spat his name out.

“Strange.”

Chase, sat next to him, continued, “He’s on Greg’s dissertation committee.”

Her eyebrows raised, “Right. What happened?”

“He failed my proposal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Greg.”

Greg ran a hand over his face, “This is going to set me back months. It’ll take so long to revise, because Strange just had to nit-pick. I didn’t even want him on my committee. Dr Xavier forced me to add him because he’s so obsessed with stupid computational stuff.”

Y/N sighed, not sure of what response she was supposed to give. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Chase cut in, wide-eyed, “Y/N, do you guys talk about this kind of stuff? Did he tell you that he wasn’t going to pass Greg?”

She gaped at him, “What? No. I-we don’t talk about that. It would be against regulations if he did.”

Greg continued on, “God. He is such a dick. Asshole.”

Y/N’s face hardened, hearing people talking about Stephen in that manner. From her end, they weren’t actually dating, but she still felt this sense of guilt and awkwardness, sitting here as they shit-talked her boyfriend.

“Did he tell you why he failed it? What do you need to change?”

“Everything. He wants me to change my control conditions, add another one, which will make the project more time-consuming. It’s not even just that-the way he said it-this air of superiority. He’s so arrogant and high-strung.”

Well, it wasn’t news, but it still hurt to hear. She wasn’t sure what else to say besides another apologetic look. “I’m sorry, that sucks.”

“Yeah, you should be.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Excuse me.”

Chase glanced between them, a tension filling the air. “You’re his girlfriend.”

“And? I am not him. I’m dating him. Do you see the distinction?”

“You’re fine with it all. How he acts - like an asshole on a power trip. You don’t give a shit about the way he treats people, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stomach being with him.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not-”

Y/N stood from her chair, “No, Chase. Let him.”

Greg and Chase both paused, watching Y/N with a cautious look. 

“I didn’t fail you, Greg. That was Dr. Strange.”

“Maybe, but you don’t care that half of the department lives in fear of your boyfriend either.”

She clenched her jaw, leaning her hands against the bench “You know what your problem is? Instead of focusing on making your project better, you're too focused on your pride. Maybe that’s more to do with you, than a professor with a few suggestions.”

“You obviously don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “What the hell do you want?”

“Get him to stop failing us.”

She laughed, right in his face “Greg. You’re asking the impossible. How is that a rational response for you to have in response to Stephen failing you-”

“Stephen?” he repeated back, watching her meet his gaze and slink back to her side of the bench.

“Yes. Stephen. What else should I call my boyfriend? Professor Strange?” she narrowed her eyes in frustration.

“If you were a half decent person or ally to any grad, you would just dump him.”

“Do you realise how stupid you sound?” 

With no other reason to stay, Greg left the room and Y/N found herself inhaling deeply and allowing her eyes to fall shut.

“He doesn’t mean all of those things, at least about you. He’s just really upset about the review.”

She huffed, “Yeah, whatever.”

“It’s not personal. It’s just...Strange is notorious for failing projects. You know of his reputation, yes?” she nodded in response. “Now you guys are dating and...it shouldn’t feel like a matter of taking sides, but it can feel like it, you know?”

Y/N looked down, unsure of what to feel. Those words stuck with her for the rest of the day as Y/N ran through her schedule. Among her friends, Sam and James had unpleasant experiences with Stephen. After the initial shock of the news, they got over it and it seemed normal. Now, this new perspective shook her for a moment as she thought it over. Tugging her phone from her pocket, she ran through the contacts and to the one she saved under his name.

Y/N: Did you just fail Greg?

She didn’t expect a quick response, but her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Stephen: Y/N?

Y/N: Yes, it’s me. Did you fail Greg Cohen? I ran into him after his meeting with you and he was very distraught.

Stephen: I can’t discuss other grad’s dissertation meetings with you.

Y/N: I know. I’m not asking you to tell me anything. Greg already used me as a punching bag, so it was pretty clear how he felt.

Y/N: Because I’m your 'girlfriend'

Because of you. Because we're dating

A moment passed as Stephen was typing.

Stephen: Committees don’t fail students. They fail their proposals.

She huffed.

Y/N: Tell that to Greg, Stephen.

Stephen: I did. I explained to him the weaknesses in his study. He’ll write up a new proposal and then I’ll sign it off for his dissertation.

Y/N: So you admit that it was your decision to fail his proposal?

Stephen: Yes, currently, his proposal is not going to find anything of scientific value.

Y/N sighed, staring at the screen. How could he just ignore the fact of the situation? Fragments of her previous conversation flickered in her mind and she took the plunge.

Y/N: Couldn’t you have tried to word it in a nicer way?

Stephen: Why?

Y/N: I don’t know, maybe so he wasn’t so upset. He seemed very angry.

Stephen: My job isn’t to coddle grad students. He’s in a Ph.D. program. He’ll be inundated his whole life if he can’t take a bit of feedback on his project.

Y/N: Still, maybe try not to look like you enjoy delaying his graduation.

Stephen: The reason he needs to revise his proposal is because it’s set up to fail in its current state. My job on the committee is to provide feedback and that is what he got.

Y/N: Do you realise you fail more people than anyone else? Your criticism is unnecessarily harsh. You have to know how grads view you.

Stephen: I don’t.

Y/N: Antagonistic. And unapproachable.

A moment passed before he began typing again and the message flickered on her screen.

Stephen: My job is to ensure we nurture researchers and scientists, not clutter academia with terrible and mediocre scientists. I could care less about how your friends perceive me if I work up to standard. Not everyone has what it takes to be a scientist.

Y/N stared at the screen, her heart hammering in her chest with each word. She had barely slept properly the last few weeks because of her report and extra work. Hearing those words repeated back to her was not only disappointing, but filled with a sense of inferiority as the words blinked at her.

She had to make this path especially for herself just to be accepted into a position in the program. So it was easy for her to simply leave him on read.

***

“Go right.”

“Got it.” Sam flicked the turn signal, “Going right.”

“Don’t listen to Steve. Go left.” Natasha said.

Steve leaned forward and swatted Natasha’s arm, “Don’t listen to her, Nat’s never been to this farm. It’s on the right.”

“Oh, my god.” Y/N exclaimed, “I’ve got Maps open and its says...” she trailed off, “its on the left.”

“Google maps is wrong.” Steve replied.

“It can’t be wrong.” Y/N’s face scrunched.

“What do I do?” Sam made a face to Y/N in the rear-view mirror as she held her phone. “Left or right, Y/N?”

“Right. If it’s wrong, we circle back.” She quickly shot Nat an apologetic look, but she knew Steve wore a smug look.

“That’ll make us late. God, I had these stupid picnics.” Sam groaned.

“We’re already one hour late. I doubt being any later will make a difference.” 

Her stomach grumbled after rushing out to meet up with the group. The argument with Stephen almost made her skip, but then they would all know. She could’ve used the time to work in the lab, but now she was here.

“Don’t worry, Sam. We’ll get there eventually. Oh god, why is it so hot? I brought sunblock, by the way. No one is going anywhere until they put it on.”

When the arrived, the picnic was bustling around, faculty members crowded around a station, grads mingling and playing sports. Making eye contact with Dr. Xavier, Y/N happily waved and smiled. Glancing over at the various games going on, she watched another group in a circle.

“What are they playing?” she squinted, the sun catching her eyes. 

Nat responded, handing Y/N the bottle of sunscreen “Ultimate frisbee. I don’t know.”

“Sounds fake.”

“You know what isn’t?”

“What?” she looked at Nat.

“Melanoma. Now, put the sunscreen on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Y/N grinned, taking the bottle, “Is there any food left?”

“None if you don’t count corn bread.”

“Do not eat that.” Steve replied, “Jess said that a pharmacology major first-year sneezed all over it. Where did Sam go?"

“Parking-holy shit!”

“What?” Y/N jumped, looking around before returning to Nat, “What, Nat?”

“Holy. Shit.” she grabbed Y/N’s face and shoved her in the direction ahead of her. Her eyes widened, heart racing all too fast at the sight.

“Is that Strange?” Steve remarked, “Is that him running around shirtless?”

“Shit. Is that a six-pack?” Nat exclaimed, looking at Y/N with a bewildered look. Y/N stared in amaze all the same as he moved around under the sun.

“Is he actually sculpted that way?” Nat nudged Steve.

Sam arrived back, without food, of course. “Was that under his shirt the entire time he was destroying my dissertation? Y/n/n, you didn't tell us he was ripped."

Y/N was just as stumped, glued to the ground. Arms limp at her sides, she remained frozen while staring at his form. She had seen the outline of his body, but not-never like this. 

“Unbelievable.” Nat grabbed the bottle, squeezing the sunscreen onto her hands, “I’ll start putting on your arms and you do your legs.”

“Nat, calm down. I’ll get to it.” 

“Quick, before you get too much exposure.”

The others were throwing around questions about the actual studies on melanoma and skin cancer, but she wasn’t listening. Y/N was still absorbed in her boyfriend, forgetting to correct herself, and just where he had to be right now. She wished to be anywhere else right now.

Nat suddenly squeezed another large amount of slabbed it into her hand. “Hey!”

“There. Now you are protected against carcinoma. Sounds scary on its own.”

“Ugh. This is so oily.” Y/N groaned, “What am I supposed to do all of this? Where did Sam go?”

“He’s over there with Jordan.”

“Jordan?”

“Yeah, she’s a fifth-year-”

“Oh, my god, guys. Fix this now, Nat before I dump it on your head.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Alright. Alright, you are so dramatic.” waving her hand to someone behind Y/N, “Hey! Dr. Strange! Have you put on sunscreen yet?”

Y/N’s eyes bulged, wanting to hide as Nat continued to wave him over. In the span of a few seconds, she wished desperately to strangle her friend. Her brain told her not to turn around. “No.” she heard him say from afar.

Spotting the pile in Y/N’s hands, it was pretty obvious what Nat had intended as she smiled at Y/N knowingly. “You do realise how inappropriate this would be, right?” she hissed.

“Why?” Nat blinking at her innocently, “I put sunscreen on Steve all the time,” squeezing an amount and slapping his face. “I am putting sunscreen on my boyfriend. Do you think its inappropriate to protect him from getting melanoma?” Am I inappropriate?” she shone.

Y/N would murder her when they were alone.

Finally turning to Stephen, she met his eyes for the first time since their argument and it all seemed to dissipate away. She would have apologised, but this was out of her control now. Nat had a radar for this sort of thing now. She waved and he nodded, throwing the frisbee to Dr. Reyes, “I’m taking five!”

They were really doing this in front of everyone.

“Hey,” he said once he was close enough.

“Hey,” she tried to avoid looking at his chest but it was right there in front of her. “Can you turn around?”

He paused before following her request. “Duck a bit.” she suggested.

Soon enough, she was slathering the sunscreen on his back, trying hard not to think about all of the people staring at them. It wasn’t the first time she touched him before, but the intimacy of touching someone’s skin was a little uncomfortable in front of all these people. Many, of which, she knew. Faculty included. 

“This probably isn’t a good time, but I’m probably running out of apologies for these weird situations.”

“It’s fine.” she felt the vibration of his voice against her hand as she moved to cover his shoulder. 

“Really though. I don’t know what it is...” she trailed off.

“It isn’t your fault,” he continued, a slight change in his voice that she caught.

“Are you alright?” she froze up.

“Yeah,” he nodded, although she was hesitant to move on.

“How much do you hate this on a scale of the scenarios we’ve found ourselves in? Where does slathering sunscreen on you in front of the entire science cohort fall?”

“I don’t hate it. And this isn’t your fault. Again.” he repeated.

“This is probably the worst thing-”

“It isn’t, Y/N. These things will continue to keep happening.” he turned to look at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes at her discomfort.

“Figures.” she huffed, blowing her hair from her face, the breath brushing Stephen’s face. He stole some of the sunscreen from her palm and rubbed it on his chest. Dr Xavier was probably watching them, along with the rest of the Ph.D. program. “I am regretting befriending Nat right about now. She’s getting out of control.”

She ducked around to get the front of his shoulders, “Hey, at least that part of our plan is working out. The Department chair definitely can’t miss this. You looked like you were having fun.” brushing the sunscreen along his collarbone.

Her face burned, freezing as he paused “I meant playing frisbee. Or whatever.”

“Beats small talk.”

“Hey, you’re doing fine now.” she mustered a smile. “You must have played sports growing up, I suppose. Explains why you’re-”

“Antagonistic. And unapproachable?”

Her smile dropped, faltering to a guilt expression as she froze up. She looked down from her stance, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to-”

Catching the slightest curve of his mouth, she tilted her head and huffed out a breathy laugh, “You little s-” she would have slapped the rest on his head if not for his grin that caught her off-guard. 

She shook her head. So what if he was attractive and handsome. That was a fact. Just an observation that she had taken into account. Nothing more. 

Once she was done with the sunscreen application, she rubbed her hands together, “Alright. Good to go, Dr. Antagonistic.”

“Thanks.” he remarked, “Thank Nat, I guess.”

“Not gonna happen.” she replied, a smirk on her face as she gestured for him to go back to his game.

“What do you think is next?”

“Maybe she’ll elevate her game.”

“Hand holding.”

“Fake-move in together.”

“Fake wedding.”

“Fake-honeymoon?”

Y/N laughed, but the way he looked at her threw her off. It was attentive and curious. The way one might focus on every word. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she turned to Tom who approached them. He too was shirtless and fit, and yet for some reason or another, she didn’t see to care.

“Hi, Tom. Loved your talk the other day.” she smiled.

“It was good, wasn’t it? Did Stephen tell you about our change of plans?”

Her smile faltered, “What change of plans?”

“We’ve made progress on the grant, so were going to Boston next week. We’ll finish setting up the stuff on the Harvard side.”

She slowly nodded, understanding and yet felt a disturbance as Stephen forgot to mention it. Or he chose not to. Either case, she was pushing it aside. He was a grown man and he didn’t necessarily have to tell her everything in his life. It wasn’t as if she were his real girlfriend anyway.

“That’s great news.” she smiled warmly, “How long will you be gone for?”

“Just a few days.” Tom’s tone was quiet, “Would you be able to send your report by Saturday so we can discuss it while I’m still here?”

Something sparked in her chest as she blinked at him numbly. She forced a smile on her face, “Sure, course. I’ll send it to you Saturday.” She surely wouldn’t sleep at all this week.

She mumbled under breath, “No problem.”

“Perfect.” Tom winked, but it was anything but. “You going back to play?” he turned to Stephen who nodded and followed.

Shuffling back to her friends was the awkward moment of scanning for watching eyes after what had happened.

“So, what’s he like?”

“Who?”

“Strange.” Nat asked, “I should say Stephen, shouldn’t I? You don’t call him Dr. Strange do you? Because if you’re into that-I do not need to know.”

“Natasha.” she blinked, aghast at the implication.

“Yeah, I’m curious. How is he any different when he’s with you? Or does he also critique the font size for the labels of your x and y-axis?”

A smirk appeared on her mouth as she imagined him saying just that. “No. Haven’t gotten that yet.”

“What is he like, then?”

“He’s...” she paused, staring off.

“He’s?” Nat pressed.

“You know.” 

“We don’t. There must be more than meets the eye. He’s so moody and negative, and angry-”

She wet her lips, interrupting Nat “He’s more than you guys think. He isn’t like that. He can be some of those things, sometimes. Just as the rest of us.”

“If you say so.” Nat shrugged, “How did you even meet? You never told me."

"We just talked and then got coffee. And then..."

"How does that happen?" Steve interrupted, "How does one accept a date with Strange? Before seeing him half-naked, that is. He's not exactly the most inviting character."

You kiss him. You kiss him twice and then he's helping you convince all of your friends that you're in love. He is saving you and buying you coffee. He's calling you a smart-ass and calling you out on your weirdly specific questions. And then you insult him and probably ruin it all.

"He asked me out and I said yes." She repeated to them, staring almost defiantly to make them believe it.

"You didn't meet on Tinder?"

She sighed, "No. I'm not even on Tinder."

"So...does that imply Strange was?"

She rolled her eyes, "No it does not."

"I suppose his profile would be very bland anyway." Nat remarked.

"Who is saying we met on Tinder?"

"Everyone. Someone said Craigslist." Sam cut in, tracking back to the group, although his gaze was set on Hayden Reyes in the distance.

"Craigslist?"

"Not saying that people believe it."

"Who are these people you're talking about? And why do they care about my relationship?"

Nat brushed her shoulder, "Don’t worry. This will all blow over and all the rumours will die. Dr. Moss and Sloane had a very public argument about..." She drew an arm around Y/N, "Hey. Everything will be fine."

"I know some people may be hyper fixated on this, but Steve, Sam and I - we are so happy for you." she added.

TAGS

@goldencherriess @severuined @thewinterpoet2 @pasta-warlord @typical-bistander @judig92 @captainbarness @gaitwae ​ @sleutherclaw @angstsfordays @mavsketch @mando-is-the-way @samisubi @liar-liar13 @evelynrosestuff @stanny-uwu @colorfuly-blog04 @frostandflamesfanfic @katsuphobic @fiadh-bell @awmysherl @sourgrapes-aa @orighami @apple-and-berry @blue-aconite @kaykay0315 @hunterofshadows04 @ohchoices @empty-canvas @99queenrory99 @savage-rhi

#Stephen strange X reader #Stephen strange #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x y/n

[infernalodie]

𝐋𝐞𝐱𝐢’𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 || 𝐋𝐞𝐱𝐢 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

“𝘔𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘔𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦? 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯“

Inspo: Baby Keem - 16 Drake - Yebba’s Heartbreak

Pairing: Lexi Howard x Bennett!Male!reader

Summary: Your life revolved around self destruction. From your sister destroying her body and relationships around her, to you destroying whomever got too close to you. Perhaps karma decided to strike before you could cause anymore pain.

(gif used is not mine)

Warnings: Angst

Words 1365

“I’m not going through this shit with you, mom!”

“Like hell, you’re not!” Leslie yelled. “You are the reason your sister can’t keep her life straight. The shit you do is the cause of this family's pain!”

You were packing a bag, stacked with clothes that you would need with moving in with Fez, The bullshit at home was becoming too much for you to handle. Not to mention the fact that Gia found your piece. So, now, you had to live in an environment that has been your life for the past 3 years of working with Fez.

But in that process of getting your shit together, Gia had told Leslie, and Leslie wasn’t giving you an opening to get your foot out the door. Bombarding you with guilt-tripping comments that you guessed she hoped would make you reconsider. But if anyone knew you well enough, they knew it would take a lot more than that to get you to change. Especially when you would be deviating from someone who you’ve become comfortable with for 3 years.

There was more to the story that no one else knew besides you. The explanation to how you got all this cash still hidden behind a thick curtain that was too heavy for them to remove and reveas the answer to why you were in such a hurry.

“That’s pretty rich coming from the woman who was willing to call the police on her daughter.” You walked to your closet, grabbing your bomber jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

“Don’t think I won’t do it with you, boy,” Leslie warned. “I ain’t got problem put some wannabe thug in jail. Especially when it’s my son trying to be harder than he is.”

“Well, you haven’t survived a drive-by before to know if you’re hard or not,” you snarked. “You, Gia, or Rue know what it’s like to scrap. So, keep your bullshit opinions to yourself.”

Leslie could only watch as you slipped your air force one’s on before grabbing your duffle bag and shouldering it. Passing by her with your shoulder bumping hers. She remembers when times were simpler with you. Your goals were laid out and you knew what you wanted. It was easy with you being the oldest and only boy in the household. You took care of her, Gia, and Rue when times got hard. When Leslie had trouble making ends meet, you were there helping cover the gap in money that you guys didn’t have.

If she knew it was blood money she’d been spending, she may have booted your ass out of the house before she ever took it. But she just didn’t understand how you got to this point. When she thought she already had a lot of baggage with Rue, you came in parading around with your Glock and backpack full of cash. The transparency between you 4-years-ago to now was so blatant, that Leslie had a hard time figuring out which side of you was her son.

“And what about Lexi, huh?” Leslie followed you down the hall. “You just gonna lie to her like this? After everything, she’s done for you?”

“Won’t be a problem if you don’t say anything,” you answered. “I don’t want her on my back about this shit. This shit is my problem, not hers.”

As you stepped into the kitchen, Glock in hand, you found Lexi sitting at the table with Rue beside her. Both look nervous and even a bit anxious, chiefly by the gun in your hold. Safety on, but still the fear of seeing an angry Y/n, that could snap within a moment.

“Lex,” you breathed, body tensed with your eyes as wide as saucers. “Wha- What the hell are you doing here?”

Her lips parted, letting out a slow exhale. “We can get you help, Y/n.”

That made you burst with a cold laugh. “What the fuck does that mean?” You questioned. “You think I’m some druggy? An addict?”

“Judging by the drugs in your bag, we can only guess,” Rue spoke up.

“Don't give me that bullshit, Rue!” You exclaimed. “You actin’ like this is brand new to all of you. Even when Rue had a suitcase full of that shit. So, don’t come at me for shit you had no understanding for.”

You walked towards the front door, Lexi shooting up from her spot to follow you. “Then help me understand so I can help,” she pleaded. “None of this can be good for you. We promised to keep nothing secret from one another.”

Stopping short of the door, you tucked the Glock into the back of your pants. Turning to face your teary-eyed girlfriend. Her eyes held hope that despite all the cocaine, lean, pills, everything, she could maybe cope with this pain you’ve created unknowingly.

But it was there you noticed that you two were on completely different planets. Having been for the past few months after your other “activities” had been taking more and more of your attention. It hadn’t been the same since you got into this business and you were the person to blame. Lexi had been nothing but perfect and you were the reason for all of this beginning to fall apart piece by piece.

And even now, faced with an ultimatum, you chose her safety over your own. Stepping closer to her in a hushed tone. “Lexi, the people I killed for this money, for these drugs, they ain’t about showing mercy,” you explained. “I can’t tell you. I won’t risk you getting hurt.”

“You don’t have the right to decide what I do or don’t do.”

“I do when it’s my life on the line.” Your words had her shocked, giving enough time for you to kiss her forehead softly. “I’m sorry.”

You exited the house without so much as another word. Leaving Lexi to try and comprehend the weight of your explanation.

Cars passed by you occasionally. The late hours of the night are nothing unusual for you to travel under. As well as the walk between Fez’s place from yours. Its path comes as distinct from any other and almost muscle memory. Even having counted the number of steps it takes to get there.

Rounding a corner, you spotted a group of guys laughing and talking about something that was indistinctive. Your feet slightly faltered, your heart, beginning to pump with you catching their gazes. And if felt like the moment that one saw you, the rest turned and grinned wickedly.

“Y/n Bennett!” One of them called out. “How it doing, bro? I think we got some unfinished to discuss.”

“I don’t know y’all.” You dismissed, continuing to walk.

“Oh, is that how you fell, homie?” Another asked. “After you shot up our spot and stole our supply?”

You couldn’t stop your body from freezing up, indicating just exactly what you had done. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” one said. “I think we need some payback on you, bitch ass.”

When you turned around to face them, the clicking of the hammer of an m1911 filled the air with what you guessed was the leader of the little pose pointing his pistol at you. “Karma a bitch, homie.”

His finger squeezed the trigger, the hammer slowly unlocking from its position and then…

BANG!

“Breaking New, only a few minutes ago, there had been a call about shots taking place in the southern side of Highland,” A news anchor announced. “In this shooting, one 17-year-old boy by the name of Y/n Bennet was killed. The people responsible are still unknown. So, if you have any evidence to help the investigation, call the police department or go in to relay the information.”

Lexi laid in your bed, body curled into a ball with tears wetting the pillows that still held your faint scent. As well as the sweater of yours that she clung to her chest for dear life. Hearing the sobs belonging to Rue and Gia just a room over from where she was.

If she’d known more, maybe Lexi would’ve saved her heart from this pain.

And maybe she could’ve saved you.

#lexi howard #lexi howard euphoria #lexi howard x male!reader #lexi howard x male reader #poc reader #x black reader #rue bennett #rue bennett fanfiction #lexi howard x black male reader #x black!reader #euphoria x black!reader #lexi howard angst #lexi howard x black!reader #lexi howard fanfiction #x black!male!reader #leslie bennett #gia bennett

[tragedygroupie]

God Loves You, But Not Enough to Save You

eli sunday x female reader

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Nsfw, religious themes, religious guilt, fingering, smut, somewhat angst???

Cruel as the god he serves. He pretends to be loving, a shepherd for a flock of lost sheep, but I see him for the wolf he is. He knows it. That’s why he spoke to my family, poisoned them against me, told them I was becoming corrupted by forces of evil. I don’t know what I could’ve possibly done to earn his scrutiny. All I know is now, as he sits across from me in the empty church, I feel as though I am a lamb cornered by a wolf. Where is the gentle shepard he once pretended to be?

“Why do you fear for my soul, father?”

He stands up and strides forward. This must be a power trip, he’s practically toe to toe with me.

“My child, I see how you look at me. You look at me as though I am a snake in your garden. You believe I am a liar, a charlatan, a salesman trying to hawk his wares. You question me, and by questioning me, you question God. Your soul is in the hands of evil forces, the devil is in you my girl, and I plan on getting him out.”

I look up at Eli, anger coursing through my veins. He is so full of himself, so sick with pride, it enrages me.

He meets my gaze, his eyes spell something that is anything but holy.

“What if I don’t want your saving?” I reply, trying to remove the shakiness from my voice. Before I know what is happening, my back is shoved against the wall. A large hand grips my face, forcing me to look into green eyes that are wild.

“Dear girl, I am the only one who can save you. You think you can save yourself? You think God loves you? God may love you, but not enough to save you. I am the only person who can save you, by showing you your true purpose.” He seethes, spitting the words out. His hot breath on my face and neck is making it hard to listen to what he’s saying.

“My purpose? what purpose could you possibly reveal to me? You are merely a man Eli, and a sorry excuse for one at that.” I hiss, staring into his eyes. His pupils are huge, almost manic.

We stand there, locked in place, his hand still gripping my chin.

That’s when he crashes his mouth against mine. It feels good. Why wouldn’t it. A warm, searing kiss that makes me forget how to breathe. I kiss him back, as his hand moves from my neck down my body. I moan from the sudden tug on my clothes, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. His hand slides down my legs, underneath the skirt of my dress, traveling up my thigh until he reaches my panties. Eli practically rips the thin fabric off my legs; how impatient. He shoves a finger inside me, I whimper in surprise.

“You are dripping with sin.” he says with a heavy sigh, as if his excitement is not brushing against my legs.

“Then fix me,” I pant as he starts pumping his finger.

He pushes another finger inside me, and I bite my lip to stop from crying out.

“It hurts… Eli it hurts,” I whimper.

“Of course it hurts. Punishment isn’t meant to feel good.”

He curls his fingers against a spot that makes my knees buckle, but thankfully he has me pinned between him and the wall. His thumb wanders while his finger pump, and I feel bolts of pleasure spark through me. When he suddenly pulls his fingers out of me and I whine from disappointment, but that quickly subsides as he roughly grabs my hips and spins me around. My head would have been slammed against the church wall if I wasn’t frozen from shock.

“I am going to cleanse you.” He says simply, and it isn’t until he’s unbuckling his trousers that I fully grasp what he means.

He turns my head so i’m facing him and simply asks,

“Do you want salvation?”

and I respond.

“Yes.”

He slides into me and it hurts, the stretch unlike anything i’ve ever felt before. The pain rocks through my body, it’s absolutely piercing. As he rocks his hips against me, I’m pressed further into ornate church walls.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel how your body was made for this?” His whispers can barely be heard over the reverb of him slamming into me over and over again.

Tears well in my eyes as the pain gives way to pleasure, and I nod desperately to his question. He keeps thrusting into me, his hands on my hips eternally pulling me back towards him just so he can ram into me again. The friction of Eli rushing in and out of me is so intense I cry out. It was like a switch flipped in him.

He starts slamming into me over and over again, his grunts becoming uncontrollable.

“So good…you’re doing so…oh…good, such a good girl,” he pants into my neck as he speeds up. I can barely contain myself, every twitch he has inside me causes obscenities from the both of us. He hits such a sweet spot inside me I can’t help but shout.

“Oh…god..oh my god…I-“

“Yes my girl,” he pleads with me as if he is performing and exorcism.

“The devil is leaving you”

Eli’s voice is picking up in volume as his rhythm picks up the pace.

“Yes…yes please…please let him out”

“Let him out my girl, you need to scream it”

“Eli I dont-“

My response is quickly cut short by Eli taking a hand off my hip and grabbing my hair in a fist. He pulls my head completely back, so far I can see the top of his eyes looking at me with an unwavering determination. I shout out in pain, but he needed me to be louder. His fingers are interlocked in my hair, every thrust in, he pulls my head back again. If he wants me to scream I will. I felt pressure inside me building up, and one particularly strong thrust sent me careening over the edge. I yelled out every piece of anger and pleasure he had ever made me feel. Everytime he stared at me during sermons, everytime he whispered to me in the confessional, everytime he gripped my hands as if I was a person of utter sin. Every single instance could be heard in my voice as it rang in our ears and echoed off of the walls. Eli yelled with me as if to aid the escape of the devil. His scream added to our combined climax. He exploded in the back of me and I felt it drip down the inside of my thigh. He tried to sound masculine in his finishing but his leftover whimpers from overstimulation said something otherwise. He gently backed out of me and buckled his trousers once again.

“I will be speaking to your father this afternoon.” he says quietly, as if he was telling me the morning hymn. I look at him with confusion.

“Whatever for?”

“So I can ask for your hand in marriage.” He responds simply.

“What??” I yelp, and it echos off the walls just as our combined moans had.

“If you were to marry another man, it would be considered adultery. What we did was necessary for your soul, but the only way forward for you is to marry me.”

That is the moment I realize, I am a fool.

He wanted to trap me all along, to ruin me for every other man. He wanted to ensure that I could never be with anyone but him, so I could never endanger his position of power with my disbelief. He never wanted to save my soul, he only wanted to get ahead of a problem. How clever. How angering.

“Eli, do you even love me?” I ask softly.

Shock registers on his face, his cheeks still rosy from our body heat.

“Love you? I need you. You’re the only one here smart enough to challenge me or make me think. You make me feel alive. You complete me, in a way no other person ever has. You may be headstrong, but a good husband can fix that. I will be a good husband.”

He cups my face in his hands, I can feel the warmth emanating from them.

“I saved you. if I can save you, I can save anyone.”

#eli sunday smut #paul dano #danonation #danocel #there will be blood #eli sunday

[chaifootsteps]

I don’t know if it’s me, but I just think Octavia is going to be an unintentional tragic character if anything that later half of season two suggests.

I remember asking myself two days before the latest episode aired, “wouldn’t Stella know that everything would go to Via?” Then low and behold her brother has to point that out to her. Then starts scheming to manipulate Via because they think she’s a gateway to getting the riches.

Like, the thing that majorly ticks me off is wouldn’t Stella know that? She’s been raising her with Stolas. Why does need to be told this if initially this arranged marriage also included a precautionary heir. There is nothing to say she wouldn’t know that.

Back to Via, her parents—well mostly Stella—but that could because Viv doesn’t want her interacting with her own daughter until they need to for Stolas reasons—refers to her as an “egg” and seemingly forgets she’s Stolas’ heir should he die. Meanwhile as Stolas is making his points, he calls Octavia “that girl” which is…I get they wanted to prove that he may not want to become like his father and wanted to give her a happy childhood, but dude why can’t you say daughter? I don’t know if Viv wants to even commit to this precautionary heir stuff because half the time they keep making Via repeat the same arc which eventually go on three times now.

Like, one of the reasons why parents who may not love each other would still want to stay for the kid which is real, and if they really wanted to commit to the precautionary heir stuff, maybe make Stella want to ask where the Grimoire is and needing to feel like “we have to keep this deal that we both don’t want to do, but our society has rules we must play apart of” and Stolas being torn with wanting to give Via a happy childhood but also knowing that the deal still exists so that just starts the further deterioration of the marriage between him and Stella. Maybe if in the S2 E1 flashbacks it could slowly show him becoming more withdrawn from them if they say he’s tired of it. The ideas from the first episode can work, but it focuses too much on retconning Stolas and Blitz characters that it should’ve focused on how his relationship with Stella deteriorated because neither of them want to be here and would play more into the nobility of the Goetia if that is slowly taking the driving force for the family.

If Via feels guilty of her birth, it could make become more isolated and depressed. The kid would feel guilt if they were the active cause of the pain if that is what the writers are attempting to imply but only loosely using the pieces that there and trying to spin it by making us feel more sad for the Dad than the daughter who is scared of being abandoned, thinking she isn’t wanted and apparently planning to guilt trip her even more.

I am with in being scared of them possibly turning the audience against Via instead of sympathizing with her. People either already understand where Stolas is coming from in S2 E2, which is fair, we don’t want invalidate victims of spousal abuse, but if they do it a third time then the writers run the risk of making the audience think Via is selfish or something. Or probably those who would blame Stella more whichever comes first.

Sorry for the ramble.

Nah, rambles are always welcome, we love rambles around here. And this was a great one!

Stolas, Stella, and Octavia are frustrating because all three are in an immensely shitty situation put together by forces outside of their control. None of them are handling it well, but Via's got the excuse of being a child caught between two deeply unhappy parents. There's so much potential there, so much to explore, and Vivzie and Brandon won't because that would involve holding Stolas accountable for literally any wrongdoing. It would involve letting Via be the bigger victim here, and we can't have that, can we?

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #actual blog post

[sir-klauz]

Okay so this form of ableism reallyyyy gets my goat. People with ADHD get this treatment a lot. It really unsettles me how often as well. Like, why do people so often expect someone with a mental health disorder which specifically surrounds focus irregularities, to focus at the exact same level as someone who’s not got ADHD?

Getting angry at people with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder for not being able to write/read giant blocks of text on demand is ableism.

We can do it when we can do it, forcing us is much more much distressing than a neurotypical person/someone who doesn’t have focus irregularity would feel, and even those people get distressed at having to do things like this.

I don’t care if you’re annoyed, I really don’t, and even less if you begin ambushing and bxtching about it, then guilt tripping or indirect posting acting like it’s being done to you because “this horrible person doesn’t care”. This is abuse and emotional manipulation to mentally disabled people.

There’s a big reason why many of us suffer in education and that’s because of teachers not being trained to accommodate our needs.

I know you’re not a teacher, and it is not your responsibility to “teach” us anything, but it is your responsibility to not lash out and punish us if we can’t give you big blocks of text, writing, chapters fast enough, big reviews, essays, and completed books/creations on demand. It is also useful if you accommodate us as well, and promotes mental health awareness and accessibility.

Our symptoms literally include the inability to control our focus, meaning it can express by the inability to focus and get distracted (especially under pressure, even with things we really want to do) with big and small tasks which need focus. Unfortunately you’ll have to make peace with the fact it may never happen, or don’t ask someone with this mental health disorder to do this stuff and preform ableist exclusion since you despise our symptoms so irately.

It’s either this, we will hyperfocus and overwork ourselves, completing tasks in an hour or at the very last minute, or doing hundreds of hours of things in massive blocks but still out of our control when this happens. Not to mention adding perhaps excessive information that may not be necessary and be occasionally hard to follow.

Many times we cannot stick with one project, and not one topic for a very long time.

If you have a massive problem with that, and begin to ostracise people for doing this as well, it’s ableism.

Stop targeting people with ADHD with your stigmatic opinions, and stop asking us to do things knowing we have it if you expect guaranteed results.

It’s okay to be privately frustrated, or a little upset it didn’t get done, but you can’t do much about that except learn, educate yourself, and attempt to understand and be compassionate afterwards and take time to realise it’s often not done to spite you or because we hate you. Not forceful and not punishing.

A person with a broken leg isn’t turning down going jogging with you “just to spite you”, or “because they hate jogging/hate how you jog”. It’s because they cannot even walk, obviously involuntarily and they’re not “choosing to not walk” or “just being lazy”. Don’t apply the same theories to people with mental health disorders.

This also stands with anybody, even for people that are neurotypical. If this person does not work for you and isn’t being paid to bring work to your table or finished projects, essays, writings, and more, then you have no right to become vicious/critical when they can’t or don’t want to commit 100% to the request they are asked to do/offer to do for free, or can’t finish it for whatever reason they communicate.

Also this applies between people with ADHD doing it to each other. You can be ableist/have internalised ableism if you’re disabled/have a mental health disorder as well. If anything though, if you do have ADHD, it’s a little questionable if you don’t consider any of this. Though no two persons experience is necessarily the same plus you may have a different type of ADHD/not have combined ADHD, plus, many people are misdiagnosed which would also be another reason you might not get these things.

ADHD is a kettle of fish which is both amazing and difficult to live with, in a world that rarely accommodates us, or especially won’t for free like neurotypical people would receive.

Making it harder and refusing to accommodate us isn’t okay, and condemning us for not being on par with your demands which are often unrealistic, isn’t acceptable. Don’t be surprised if we start to avoid you after this behaviour. It’s offensive and tiring to receive.

We probably have 70 other things we are trying to be doing rn, not to mention juggling a hectic life full of responsibilities whilst trying to commit to fun things, or over committing to too much at once.

It isn’t usually because we don’t want to either, this inability to do things on demand so easily is applicable to things we really want to do as well. Hell, if I can’t open and play a game I’m in love with, idk what to say! But it certainly isn’t on purpose haha.

#adhd #ableism #ableism tw #stop being ableist #ableist nonsense #ableist society #mental health awareness #mental health disorder #adhd tag #living with adhd #adult adhd #adhd inattentive #adhd combined #adhd queer #queer adhd #adhd rant #adhd things #adhd tumblr #adhd post #adhd pride #adhd community #adhd hyperfocus #adhd hyperfixation #adhd hyperactive #adhd acceptance #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #disability #disabilties #adhd ableism

[arya--donovan]

On the 18th of October, Arya became aware of what her brother had managed to accomplish with the assistance of her boyfriend.

She had been greeted early in the day by a couple of detectives at her front door. A couple of hours later and she was sitting in an interrogation room mirroring the stone-cold serious expression of the detective seated across the table from her. It was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud after seeing what they had just shown her. The surveillance footage was a bit grainy, but Arya knew her man and she could have picked him out in an instant even in the shittiest of footage, and of course, she knew her big brother too, she recognized him instantly. She watched with the same unwavering expression as they climbed into a blacked-out SUV and sped off before the detective turned the tape off and she was forced to turn her attention back to him.

“So what does this have to do with me?” Arya asked, lifting a hand to gesture to the screen that had previously played the footage.

“This was captured yesterday when an inmate of the Pelican Bay state penitentiary made a daring escape from the facility with the help of a Corrections officer.” The detective was watching Arya like a hawk waiting for her to show any sign of guilt. Like he was already positive that she had something to do with this whole thing.

“Please don’t make me repeat myself, Detective.” Arya got a humorless chuckle out of the detective.

“That inmate happens to be your brother, Adriel Donovan, and the Corrections officer is one that you frequently post about on your social media, Warren Cold.” He looked so pleased with himself as he laid out the papers with the printed connections between Arya and Warren on the table in front of them. “We have reason to believe that you may have had a part in this. Can you tell me your whereabouts yesterday?"

Arya reached for one of the printed photos on the table, it was from the day they had spent poolside on Warren's day off. She was silent as she looked at the photo and read the caption she had written to go along with it. If she had focused on his face smiling at her from the photo for much longer, Arya would have lost her composure all together. Things were adding up now, rapidly making sense to her and threatening to release a torrent of emotions that she didn't want the detective to witness. 

She slammed the paper back onto the table blue gaze blazing with fury, the only emotion she knew she could rely on to keep herself from saying anything that might be used against herself or her family. That fury was focused on the detective now and for a moment, he truly appeared frightened. 

"You or your assistant or whoever the fuck was able to find this on my socials was competent enough to do that, but not enough to see what I was up to all day yesterday?" She asked, her tone was icy, she knew well what the detective was getting at by that point and while she knew she wasn't involved in her brother's escape, she had a sneaking suspicion she knew who was. There was no way, however, that she would tell that to the detective or anything that could be considered helpful. 

He was taken aback by her sudden change in disposition and when he began to try and reply, he tripped over his own words causing Arya to laugh and cut him off. 

"Calm down before you hurt yourself trying to come up with a good excuse as to why you bothered wasting my fucking time. I was working all day yesterday at my eldest brother's business Elijah's. It was a promotional event that also happened to include live feed on our business' socials. If you'd like more to corroborate my alibi, I'm sure you can get one of your tech wiz kids to dig into my socials and find what you need." Arya pushed back the chair she had been sitting in and stood. 

"Unless you have anything else you'd like to try and accuse me of, I think we're done here." She was grateful for the fact that the detective didn't try and detain her for any longer. Even more grateful that he didn't object to letting her make her own way home when she insisted that's what she wanted to do. There were so many emotions warring within her that she was desperately trying to make sense of. 

----- 

Even now, nearly a month later Arya's barely managed to sort through all of those emotions. She's been careful to keep from saying anything that could get her brothers in trouble, because she knew they had to be involved in Adriel's escape along with Warren. It hurt to be left in the dark, but she knew exactly why they chose to leave her there. It was for the best. To protect her. That's how it had always been with her brothers, no matter what shit they were getting into, they made sure to keep it clear of Arya and their momma. 

She was happy to know that Adriel had managed to escape. She never believed he deserved to be locked away for the rest of his life. He may have taken a life, but the life he had taken was the life of a monster, a man who had caused nothing but pain and destruction his entire life. It brought her peace of mind to know that Warren was with Adriel and Cat, probably somewhere far away where they could live happily together. 

No matter how positively she tried to think of the situation, the fact that she was likely never going to see Warren again was the one that weighed heaviest on her. There wasn't a single person in the world who had ever made her feel the way that Warren did and there likely never would be another. Despite her attempts to move forward with her day to day life, Arya's been struggling more and more to hide the fact that she's utterly heart broken. 

#Arya narrative

[whyismangososour]

I’m gonna just let out this one last rant real quick before I just block JKR from my tags forever and hopefully never have to speak about this again. Because I’ve been holding in these feelings ever since I made this blog last year and it’s all just coming out in a fit of reblog rage after destroying my mental health for so long. Plus I know I’m just speaking into the void. I just- I need to get these feelings out.

Harry Potter was both the first fandom I was ever in and the first time I fell in love with storytelling. It’s also one of those special pieces of art that kept me alive when I was in the thick of my depression, being bullied relentlessly, and didn’t realize I was queer (with both my sexuality and gender). While I don’t want to spend money on Joanne anymore, she’s not going to fucking stop me from engaging with this story. I have my hand me down copies of the books my parents gave me when I was seven. I have my old merch I got as a gift when I was 12. I have my daydreams and my fanart and A Very Potter Musical and Wizard Rock. I’m not going to buy her dumb wizard game or watch her stupid HBO show. But I’m not going to let Joanne take away this thing I love without a fight. Without Harry Potter, I wouldn’t even be here alive, let alone on Tumblr. And I know I’m not the only one.

To bully people relentlessly for holding onto and reclaiming whatever parts of this story they can that, often, was there for them when no one else was, not only is lacking any nuance and critical thinking, but also is incredibly cruel and is clearly a projection onto others. Plus it’s so clearly driving a complete wedge between people, both in the LGBTQ+ community and those who are just allies. I know I’ve never felt more isolated than I have since Joanne started her tirade and brought on people’s clumsy boycotts.

And listen, I get it. I get it if you’re one of the victims of this systemic abuse Joanne’s caused and you just want to lash out. You want to do anything to stop her. So, you immediately block and shut down anyone who so much as mentions their Hogwarts house in their bio. Because, to you, supporting this story is supporting bigotry which is supporting these hate crimes and legislation. I get it. You don’t have to engage with people who still enjoy Harry Potter. But the depressing fact is that yelling at them to overcorrect and boycott everything that Joanne has touched, not only doesn’t get rid of the problem, but it actively makes it worse. When you are telling people to stop engaging at all with Harry Potter, you are basically telling them that what Joanne is doing is their fault. It’s basically a guilt trip and it’s only going to drive them away from the right advocacy or force them into it unwillingly (and if you’re forcing someone into advocacy then that isn’t real advocacy).

And the thing is, Joanne knows this. That’s why she claims so adamantly that people who enjoy her work are supporting her. She knows it’s driving a wedge between us and therefore distracting us from the actual, visceral harm she is contributing towards. She actively encourages it because it’s taking some of the blame away from her for a change. Meanwhile, there are god knows how many trans people actively dying everyday and fighting over a slightly outdated children’s book series from the 2000s isn’t going to change that.

It doesn’t mean you have to enjoy it or engage with it at all. Really, that’s up to personal choice. But what it does mean is that each of us has the responsibility to be there for each other no matter what. And it also means we have the responsibility to stay as educated as much as possible. This doesn’t mean erasing the books from our cultural history (another thing that makes it worse). Nor does it mean obsessively doom scrolling about every hate crime committed against the queer community. No, it means befriending different people, talking to those with different experiences, donating money when you can, reading up on trans and queer history, and goddamn it, maybe it even means writing queer Harry Potter fanfiction. Just as long as you don’t forget who the real enemy is because it’s not each other. It’s the people in power that Joanne forgot she clumsily advocated against in her dumb books. The type of person she has now turned into. Don’t you ever forget it.

#rant #harry potter #joanne kathleen rowling #jkr #jk rowling #trans rights #lgbtq+ #genderqueer #protect trans kids #critical thinking is sexy #and so is being kind to one another #thank you

[kissmejusttokissme]

Summary: Robin & Steve aren't the first people someone would come to for advice but Steve knows a thing or two about having a bisexual crisis. (Max would have picked Nancy but she's out of town.)

[Family Video - A Year Post Vecna]

“Are you busy?”

Robin and Steve both look up from the stacks of videos they’ve been sorting through and shake their heads. It’s been too long since their last customer and they’re about ready to pull the fire alarm just to feel something.

“Not at all,” Robin says, pushing the stack of videos nearest to her off the counter. “What’s up?”

Steve ducks down quickly to catch the videos before they hit the floor but matches Robin’s eager energy. “Please say it’s something that’ll take up at least an hour.”

“It’s been the slowest shift ever to exist,” Robin explains, climbing up onto the newly cleared counter. “But, don’t get us wrong, we’re also one hundred percent on board to help outside of how bored we are.”

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Steve nods. “Always eager to help.”

Max looks between the two of them, earphones slung around her neck playing the same Kate Bush song people had come to expect from her, and sighs. She sighs a lot when she’s around them. Around everyone, really. Well, except for Will but that’s only because his faces starts to crumple the second he thinks someone is upset with him and Max doesn’t have time to deal with the guilt.

“You can’t tell anyone about what I’m about to tell you,” she says, shoving her hands deep into her jacket pockets. “Not Eddie,” she looks at Steve. “Or Nancy,” this is to Robin. “Or any of the boys.”

“Our lips are sealed,” Robin says.

“With glue,” Steve says. “Or, like, cement.”

“But heavy, babe.” Robin shakes her head. “I was thinking more like a lock. Then Max can be the only one with the key.” She tilts her head slightly to the side, her hair falling out from behind her ears. “Any cement? Really? You can’t breathe through cement.”

“Oh, but you can breathe through a lock?”

Max clears her throat and they both look back over to her apologetically.

“Sorry,” they say in union

“This was a bad idea,” Max turns to leave, one hand on the door and the palpable feeling of being let down.

“No!” Robin calls after her. “Seriously, we’re sorry it’s work brain. Or, like, more like lack of a working brain. We kind of turn off all critical thinking when we’re here. It’s the only way to get through a shift without wanting to slam your head against a wall.” She sits up, back straight like a kid at an assembly. “But we’ll get our shit together, OK? You’ve got our full attention and we promise, no more fucking around.”

“Maybe a little fucking around,” Steve says. “I can’t really help it.”

Robin rolls her eyes but Max seems satisfied with the deal.

“You guys know that I went to visit my grandparents over the summer, right?”

They’d both heard about Max’s trip from the kids during the rides to and from the various places Steve was ‘forced’ to take them. Two weeks without Max and they talked like she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. Abandonment issues, Robin had said. More like the trauma of almost losing her, Eddie had corrected. (He’s like that sometimes. The first to stop the joke and remind them that they’re all fucked up. Steve thinks it's something to do with him being dead for a bit.)

But, long story short, while the rest of them were stuck in Hawkins, Max was off living the dream. Her grandparents live somewhere out west and their condo is so close to the beach that it might as well be in the ocean. Occasionally, Max would send them letters with Polaroids attached of her on the beach or eating an ice-cream bigger than her head or, once, on the top of a literal mountain. She’d come back bronzed and more relaxed than she’d left.

Well, except from when she’s around Lucas.

“Something happened when I was out there,” she says. “Not, like, anything bad. But it’s kind of messing with my head and I don’t know what to do about it.” She looks down at her feet. “And I can’t talk to the guys about it and Eleven wouldn’t understand and, well, Nancy’s out of town.”

“Ouch,” Steve winces. “At least we came above Eddie.”

“The suns still out,” Max says. “And I couldn’t wait till tonight.”

“Makes sense,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “I kind of set myself up with that one. Sorry, not fucking around, what happened?”

“In your own time,” Robin adds.

“Well, my cousin lives near my grandparents and she took me to this club.”

“A club?” Steve repeats, horrified. “You’re sixteen.”

“Not the time, Steve.” Robin says.

“Sorry,” Steve says but his faces is still doing that thing that mom’s do when they’re upset. “Carry on.”

Max exhales. “First of all, it’s one of those clubs that’s made for younger people. For, like, dancing.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, there weren’t any creepy guys and they played good music and I had a good time. But, uh, I met someone and we spent all night dancing and, uh, before I left we, uh, we kissed.”

“Oh,” Robin looks at Steve. “That’s… good?”

“I’m not with Lucas,” Max says defensively. “We’re taking it slow and we talked about giving it another shot when I got back so I don’t think kissing someone before then means I’ve done anything wrong.”

“You’re right. It’s not like you’ve cheated on him or anything.” Steve agrees. “So what’s eating you up then?”

There’s a moment of silence and Steve can’t help but jump to the worst possible conclusion. It’s this thing his brain just seems to do when he’s around the kids. (And, knowing their track record, he doesn’t exactly feel crazy for doing it.)

“The person I kissed,” Max says quietly. “It was a girl.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “Right.”

“And, I don’t know, I guess I thought that everyone looked at other girls and thought…” Max shakes her head. “At least a little bit, y’know? But then I was talking to my cousin and she said that she’d never thought about girls like that. That only lesbians would want to kiss another girl.” She’s looking everywhere but at Steve and Robin. “And I know that I liked Lucas. Like, I really liked Lucas. Still, really like him. But now I keep thinking that maybe I don’t -or I didn’t- because I liked kissing that girl and what if I’m just dragging Lucas along and I don’t even like guys.”

It’s the most either of them have ever heard Max say in one sitting and, for once, Steve knows exactly what to say to help.

“You know you can like both right?” He echoes the words Robin had said to him only six months before. “You can like boys and girls.”

Max looks up at him suddenly, meeting his eyes with a fierce intensity. “You can?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I mean, I liked Nancy back when we were dating. Like, really liked her. And now I like Eddie.” His cheeks tinge pink at the mention of his boyfriend. “ I love Eddie but it doesn’t mean I loved Nancy any less.”

“Did you really just tell us that you love Eddie before you told Eddie that you love him?” Robin laughs. “But, yeah, Max. You can definitely like both. It doesn’t mean that you’re going to like every girl you see just like how you don’t automatically like every boy you see. It doesn’t even mean that it’ll happen at the same time. But it’s very much a thing.”

“Bisexual.” Steve says. “That’s the word for it.”

“Bisexual.” Max repeats. “So, I’m not leading Lucas on?”

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you see him and get all mushy, like someone’s blended your insides and then made soup out of whats left?”

“Jesus, Buckley.” Steve says.

“Uh,” Max says. “Kind of.”

“And do you want to kiss him just as much as you wanted to kiss the girl?”

Max nods. “More.”

“Well, duh, you’ve got history with him.” Steve says and then winces as Robin elbows him. “Sorry, bit harsh.”

“Incredibly harsh Mr. Talking-about-eddie-fifty-times-a-day-doesn’t-mean-I-like-him”

“At least I got my shit together when I figured it out,” Steve says. “Tell me again how you managed to get a date with Nancy.”

“Pure luck,” Robin says. “Truly a miracle.”

“You guys are weird.” Max interrupts. “But, uh, kind of helpful.”

“It’s like a genie thing,” Robin smiles. “We grant your wish but we’ll annoy you while doing it.”

“Talk for yourself, Buckley, I’ve never annoyed anyone in my life.”

Robin laughs. “Please, you came out of the womb annoying.”

Max goes quiet again, pressing her lips into a thin line, before saying, “Should I tell Lucas?”

“Only if you want to,” Robin says.

“You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t.” Steve says. “But, between you and me, there are some good people around here that’d be happy to talk to you about the stuff you’re feeling.”

“You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you?” Max asks.

“Me and others.”

“Yeah, we have kind of absorbed the whole of Hawkin’s queer population into our friend group.” Robin says. “Which is to say, there’s people who will understand if you ever feel like you’re losing your mind.”

“About being bisexual,” Steve adds. “We’re kind of useless when it comes to anything else.”

“I mean, you’re kind of useless when it comes to being bisexual as well.”

“Not the time, Buckley.”

“When is it not the time?”

“When I’m trying to impart wisdom onto the youth of today.”

They carry on bickering, forgetting that Max is standing right in front of them, and it should be annoying. It should be something that Max rolls her eyes at and complains about later. But, at that moment, she just smiles. A small one. The tiniest quirk of the corner of her lip.

Maybe she’d come to them for advice again.

(You know, if Nancy is still out of town.)

#stranger things fic #ficlet #steve harrington #max mayfield #robin buckley #bisexual max mayfield #steve & robin #steve & max #implied vampire eddie munson #(also when i say club im imagining a slightly less shit version of those discos you'd get at butlins but for an older crowd)

[darkanddirtyknb]

PERSONAL UPDATE

Hi lovelies, I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted anything. Things have been rough lately--dare I say, much harder than usual. I've been struggling to come to grips with the fact that I can't overcome my mental issues, which are predominantly health-focused. I strive to be a positive person, but I have been surrounded by negativity for so long that I can't help but get sucked into a dark space from time to time. Lately, however, it seems I'm stuck in this crippling void. As some of you know (if you read these updates), I recently started therapy for my chronic pain and mental health. I can't say it's done much yet, but I know it takes time. That said, I have been learning some things about myself. One of those things is that I struggle to prioritize myself. I will drag myself through hell to please the people closest to me. I am proud of this part of me because it shows that I have empathy and compassion. I care about people. I used to struggle to understand my feelings, and sometimes I wondered if I felt anything. I went through periods where I felt empty and still do. I would wonder in the past if I was emotionless because I couldn't find it within me to care about others how I felt I should. But that's not true. The problem is that I care too much, meaning that I get taken advantage of within my family, and while I want to be there for them, it's starting to wear me down. I've been sick for so long that I'm no longer capable of handling my problems and theirs. It makes me feel selfish for saying so. But I'm not good at taking care of myself. It's something I've always struggled with mentally. I used to self-harm in the past just so I could feel something. Because between being a child who was forced to shoulder all of my family's problems and witnessing things I shouldn't have, I needed something tangible I could hold onto. I'm not condoning or excusing my behavior. It was a bad thing to do, but it happened, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I did a lot of things I shouldn't have. Unfortunately, that's a part of growing up, and while I'm different in many ways, I'm still human. This leads me to say that I've been very frustrated lately. I've grown a bit resentful of my condition(s). I want to live my life normally. I want to travel and visit the people I've grown close to and love. I can't do these things that are arguably simple to achieve because of my physical health. Not to mention my financial position. I can't save money because all of the funds I earn go to medical costs. My entire life revolves around my physical health. I've been saving for a trip I have to take next week. I need to see a neurologist to further discuss the possibility of having MS. Again. It's a never-ending cycle. It's a 4-5 hour trip, and the anxiety I have about it is ridiculous. I'm tired of being in pain all the time. I'm tired of waking up, ready to write, and getting a migraine that stops me from being able to do anything. I'm tired of not being able to walk without pain or shortness of breath. I'm sick of struggling to do menial tasks without needing to take breaks. I suppose some people might see this message as a rant full of complaints, but I'm just trying to convey my position. I'm not looking for pity or sorrow. I just feel so much guilt all the time, like I'm always letting people down, myself included, and that goes for my followers, as well. I really enjoy putting out new content. I love the feedback. I love how happy it makes people. I don't even mind the occasional discourse. When people tell me that my stories have saved them or helped them through hard times, I am filled with a sense of joy that I can't often find in my everyday life. Having said that, I am blessed to have a beautiful girlfriend, a wonderful dog, and extraordinary followers and friends in my life. I don't ever want to take what I have for granted. I just wish that I could do more of what I want to do without my ailments stepping in. I have a hard time admitting weakness, but I'll say this here, I am scared about my future. I'm fucking terrified that my health is going to keep getting worse because that's all it's ever shown me. I don't know how much more I can handle. I've been fighting chronic illness for over ten years now. It's exhausting. But I also know that there are people who have it much worse than I do. Still, each day is a struggle, and life is never easy with its constant curve balls. Recently, my girlfriend was on the brink of suicide because of medication withdrawal (SNRI). It scared the shit out of me. If anything ever happened to her, I wouldn't make it. We've been together for well over ten years. She's my everything. Then, my dog had a mini-seizure, and I had to take him to the vet. He's already ten, and I believe he has a lot of time left, but I can't stomach the thought of losing him. That means I'll do anything I can to keep him around and comfortable. Fortunately, I have an account I can make payments on. But after only 20 minutes, I was handed a bill for $340. It's just constant stress on top of everything else, and I understand that all of this is a part of life, and everyone has problems. It's just been tough lately. I feel like I can never get ahead. Not in anything. I can't get ahead in life. I can't get ahead of my pain. I can't get ahead financially. I'm trying very hard to get to a place where I can get back to normal. I want to write again. I want to have sleepovers and chats and open up my box again. I want to feel like I'm living, not just getting by. I want my life back. I'm sorry that this turned into such a long-winded update. I just felt like it was time to share some things with you. Thank you for reading and sticking around. I love you all. I'm always wishing you all the best. Take care. Love, Kai

#out of bounds #personal #tw: self-harm mention #tw: suicide mention #nothing detailed or graphic #update