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#and ''if my choice had been a different one I would have made it differently'' which I know was in reaction to SOMETHING but no idea what
runningfrom2am · 2 days
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cold nights // part thirty-one
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summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.6k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: heyyyy ttpd has got me fucked up and ALSO guess who heard from her ex for the first time in years?? that's been so dope and not at all causing me to spiral over the last like week :) anyway missed this series so here.
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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"You didn't have to come." You whisper in the dark, the open window doing very little to illuminate the room without the help of the stars.
"Yes I did." Lennox answers you, matching your hushed tone. You roll onto your side so you're facing him, smiling slightly. Sejanus had given you both your own rooms, but rarely did a night go by where you didn't miss sharing that mattress on the floor with your brother back home.
"Did Sej have to convince Ma to let you come?"
"He didn't ask me to come." You feel the pillows shift as he shakes his head. "He told me what was goin' on, and I said I'd be on the next train and that was that." He pauses, chuckling to himself. "I appreciate you havin' your meltdown on the last day of the month, by the way. Was awful convenient for me."
"Yeah, me too." You giggle. "How was your Halloween?"
He shrugs, tucking his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. "It was alright. Same old."
"Did you do a costume this year?" You ask, already knowing he didn't. Apparently sixteen was too old for that- he was too "cool" for that now.
"Nah." He laughs. "You?"
"Yeah." You whisper, your smile dropping slightly. "I was Juliet, Tigris helped me make it."
"I'm sorry, but that means nothing to me." He chuckles, looking over at you.
"Well, it was an angel costume. We made the wings, and Coryo was supposed to be Romeo. We made his too. I was real proud of it, he was 'sposed to be a knight." You explain.
"But he didn't wear it?"
You just shake your head.
"Prick." Lennox mutters.
"He actually... ruined it on purpose." You whisper. "Poured red wine all down the front."
"Why the hell would he do that?" Lennox frowns. "I mean, I coulda' told you that guy was an asshole, but that's just cruel."
"It was my fault." You admit. "I didn't tell him that couples costumes were a thing until the day of. I didn't give him a choice, and I should have asked if he was okay with that."
"No... No, Y/N/N, don't do that." You feel him shake his head again, dragging a hand down over his face in frustration.
"Don't do what?"
"Blame yourself." He states. "You coulda' asked, sure, but I can't think of a problem he could possibly have with it. That's, you know, actually a valid reason."
"You know how they feel about us here, bug." You say softly, reaching out to push his hair back for him from where it had been pushed down on his forehead. "Sej has never really fit in, and he's been here ten years. I can't expect to walk in and have everything be perfect. Of course he's going to be a little embarrassed."
"But you can expect someone who's supposed to love you to be willing to prove it." Lennox says frustratedly. "You taught me that. So don't go changin' on me now."
"I would never." You smile slightly. "But... real life is different. Real love is different, I think."
"Real love shouldn't be embarrassing." He mumbles. "Not that I know a thing about it, but I think he's an idiot. I mean, I'd wear a matching costume with you tomorrow if you asked. I'd do anything for you."
"I know you would." You smile sadly. There are a few beats of silence between you while you remember all the signs you missed. Coryo telling you the school was strict about physical contact, causing you to turn a blind eye to other students kissing or holding hands in the halls and him hugging Clemensia that very same day. Him telling you to give him space when your only crime was standing too close. The only times he would hold your hand in public being in the backseat of their car or under a desk or table, hidden from view.
"He's lucky to have ya. Hell, we all are." Lennox says after a moment. "If any of these stuck-ups had any humanity they would treat you just the same. I'm not here to convince you to come home, but I think you're better off with us. That's all. At least at home, you're treated normal."
"But I'm not." You reply. "Not anymore. I might as well take this chance to get an education, so I can get a good job and go home and provide for you guys. Dad could retire instead of workin' himself to death in those mines, and Ma would never have to patch another pair of coveralls for as long as she should live. You could do whatever you wanted, bug. You could go to school too if that's what you decide. I could buy you a house, a bike, anything you want in the world."
"That's great and all, but I don't give a shit about that stuff anymore." Lennox tells you honestly. "As long as you're... alive, I guess, we're happy just the way things were. We talked about it a lot. That we'd give anything just to have you back."
A smile twitches on your lips. "I get it." You agree quietly. "But if I can get something for all of us out of having to go through... all of that, I'm gonna take it. Then we can all be together and all the better for it."
"For how long? Until one of us gets hitched and has kids, and then in twenty years we're sending them back here to go through the same shit you did?" He argues. "It's all for nothing. We just gotta make the time for each other while we can."
You chew on your lip, sick at the mere mention of your kids possibly getting picked. Or, god forbid Lennox getting picked in the last three years his name is entered in the reaping, and the number of entries increasing with every passing year. "I suppose." You agree. "But, can you keep a secret?"
He smiles at the familiarity as he looks over at you. "You know I can."
"Coryo is gonna be the next president. I'm sure of it." You whisper. "He's sure of it, too, it's all he's been raised for."
"Forgive me for not feeling reassured by that fact."
"No, but you should." You insist. "He's... He's a good man. He knows how to do the right thing, and I'm sure he'll call off the games one day. He has to."
You can hear your brother's sharp intake of breath. "If he's got you, he will." He mumbles in realization and you nod slightly.
"I think I'll be able to help. To actually do something good if I stick with him." You whisper.
"That's... a lot of pressure." Lennox agrees. As of right now, Coriolanus Snow is far from in his good books. 'If he was, I'd burn my library.' He recalls you laughing over the line in the book, recounting it to him just a couple of months prior. He wants to see you like that again. Happy. Yourself. But if you have to throw that away to save a future of who knows how many children, would that even be worth it to him? He feels guilty for thinking that it wouldn't.
"I love him, Len. I do." You assure him, somehow seeming to track his thought process. "I just don't know... If he truly feels the same way about me. I thought he did, when we were back home. When he came to Twelve, he was different than he is here."
"That's not fair." He replies quietly, deciding that now would certainly not be the time to bring up the fact that if you did end up marrying the future President of Panem, that would mean there would be no "coming home" for you. This, here, a city that tore you apart and left him to try and pick up the pieces, would be your home. He knows that as much as you love him and your parents, you're too noble to give up the chance to spare his children from your fate. He wants to hate you for it, but he never could. "That you have to defend him at all, I mean. You deserve to be angry sometimes, Y/N/N."
"It's fair." You smile slightly. "I just... I was so sure he was the one for me. You know? He cared about me when no one else did, he risked so much for me. You can hate him all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that he saved my life."
"That doesn't mean you owe him your love."
"I know that." You whisper, lips pursed in thought as you pause to figure out what you want to say. "But I think I would love him anyway. More than anything, I feel bad that I put him in this position."
Lennox shakes his head abruptly. "You didn't do anything. He made this decision, that apparently he wants you here, so he shouldn't be "embarrassed" of you, or whatever. Not at all."
"I don't know what to do, bug." You admit quietly. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want him to leave me behind now that the Games are over and done. I feel like for a while it was like... like I was a shiny new toy. And now I'm not clean and fun anymore."
"You really love him?" He asks, and you nod. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Then I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you've gotta talk to him."
You open your mouth to speak, a small smile forming on your lips at his acceptance despite your nervousness about seeing Coryo again. "But don't let him off the hook yet, just let him plead his case." Lennox adds.
"I have to, bug."
"You're too forgiving." He replies, understanding but still disappointed. "I don't want to see you hurt."
"If I couldn't forgive, I would be ruined."
Coriolanus doesn't know what to do other than to go and get you before school come Monday morning. He hadn't heard from you, but Tigris insisted that you just needed your space. So he left a little early, the brisk air chilling him as he stepped outside the apartment building where their car was waiting.
He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he hears his name.
"Coriolanus Snow, fancy finding you here." He abruptly turns to look at the boy leaning up against the cement pillar only a few feet away.
The smug smile on your brother's face at his own joke is only mildly off-putting.
"Lennox. What are you doing here?" Coryo asks, clearing his throat and quickly readjusting the front of his coat. He knew your family- he knew he shouldn't be shocked that if you called, your brother would come running. Now he's just realizing that this didn't mean anything good for him.
Lennox shrugs as he steps away from the wall, a toothpick poking out from the corner of his mouth as he chews on it. "Sejanus called on Halloween. Said Y/N was having a tough time, and what kind of brother would I be if I didn't come to help?"
"That's very kind of you." Coryo states, eyeing him carefully. "So, you've been with her then?"
"Mhm." Lennox nods, smiling proudly as he not so subtly sizes up the boy in front of him. "Should we talk in the car? Wouldn't want you to be seen with me." He winks, flicking away the toothpick before brushing past your boyfriend to let himself into the backseat.
The blonde boy swallows, rolling his eyes before climbing in after him. "You going to school?" Lennox asks, already playing with the switches that roll up the windows and adjust the seats.
"I was going to pick up Y/N. She has class at the same time."
"Oh, she's already there. She got a ride with Sej this morning." Lennox states. "So don't worry, we wouldn't want her to be an inconvenience for you."
Coryo sighs, rubbing his head. "Listen, I don't know what they toldyou, but-"
"Oh, no. You're gonna listen to me now." Lennox cuts him off, suddenly serious as the car begins to move. "I don't know what you want from her. Not anymore. I had a pretty good idea when you showed up at our home unannounced, but clearly, that wasn't enough for you. So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you kidnapped her, right-"
"I didn't-"
"Yes, you did. As I was saying, you kidnapped her, but why?" Lennox shakes his head, eyes wide with genuine confusion. "If you don't want her, if you treat her like she's a burden to you, or that you're embarrassed of her, why would you bother? Was it just to break her again, because The Hunger Games didn't do a damn good enough job?" He hisses, fists clenched together like it was all he could do to not take a swing at him right now. "'My tribute gets touchy when she drinks'... Are you kidding me? You did this to her! All of it! I don't think it's too much of her to ask for you to care when you promised that you would!"
Coryo flinches a bit as his own words are thrown back at him, looking down at his lap in nothing more than shame as it fills him slowly from head to toe.
"It's not like that, Lennox. Not at all." Coryo settles on, shaking his head. "She is the furthest thing from a burden to me. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I want her to be happy. I want to help her."
Lennox looks down at his lap, the act of 'protective brother' crumbling to pieces over the back seat as tears brim at his eyes. "Then why would you take her away again?"
Coryo is shocked by this, eyes going wide as he stares at him. No longer was Lennox only your little brother who puffed his chest and rolled up his sleeves at every given opportunity to take a stab at your boyfriend, he was just a kid. A kid like you, who was completely torn apart by the games even though he had never set foot in the Capitol until the day before.
To Coryo, Lennox looked like he would have made a strong competitor in the same games; had his name been chosen. He was cocky, normally, and that was something that could be made into the spectacle that Dr. Gaul wanted. He would have no doubt done well. Coryo recalls you talking endlessly about your brother before the Games, and he remembered meeting him in Twelve and thinking that he was nothing like what he expected from the way you spoke about him. Gentle. Kind. Selfless.
From his limited interactions with the boy, Coryo only saw anger, distrust, selfishness. But knowing that he had to stand by back in District Twelve and wait for the news of his sister's death, maybe even watch it live, Coryo can now see that not only did it anger and scare him, but it traumatized him almost as much as it did you. The boy sitting next to him was nothing more than a kid who had lost his best friend. Who lost his sister.
"I..." Coryo stammers, waves of realization hitting him like he's run into a brick wall. "I had no choice." He says quietly to spare the driver's ears, and Lennox snaps his head back up to look at him.
Long gone was the sadness that told the story of who he had been while you were here fighting for your life a few months ago. Now, his eyes were ice cold, red from the tears that he didn't let fall.
"You're gonna have to explain before I tear every piece of that strangely white hair from your big head, Coryo."
Subconsciously, Coryo reaches up to make sure his hair is still styled the way he had just done it before he left as he swallows. "You know what happened to that peacekeeper?" He leans closer to say it so they won't be heard.
Lennox is scanning his face for any sign he could be lying. "And Billy Taupe?" He prompts him, the sad look flickering back in his eyes for only a moment. You had told Coryo about the relationship your family had with the Covey children, he hadn't even considered how your brother would handle the death of one of his closest friends without his big sister there to help. He lost you both in one night- that couldn't have been an easy pill to swallow, especially when he had only just got you back.
Coryo nodded slightly, looking up quickly to make sure one more time that the driver wasn't watching in the mirror.
"She was there." He explains it in as few words as possible. "And I knew if anyone found that out, if anyone saw her, the finger would be pointed her way."
"Did you kill them?" Lennox asks quietly.
Coryo shakes his head. "No, but I did hold one of the guns. She's the only reason I didn't. She wouldn't let me."
"Who did?"
"Spruce, I think his name is, but I shouldn't be telling you any of this."
Lennox gives him a solemn nod. "It's fine. I'm the one who hid the guns. Spruce brought them to the house and I ran everything out to the lake that night. Was sleepin' like a rock when Y/N/N came to pack all her stuff, I'd only been home for an hour or so." He explains, wiping a hand over his face as he remembers making that familiar hike in the dark. "They got Spruce, he was done the next day but I promise they'll never find any evidence connecting to you guys."
Coryo nods, internally sighing in relief.
"It's all secrets, now." Lennox adds, and Coryo knows what he means by that.
"What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" His own question is echoed back to him, but now he knows the answer.
"But if I knew it coulda connected you, maybe I would have left them somewhere more obvious."
Coryo doesn't expect the small smile that forms on your brother's lips. It was a threat, but first and foremost it was a joke.
"I'll be honest, I panicked." Coryo admits. "I couldn't just leave her there not knowing what would happen to her. I had to keep her safe, and bringing her back with us was the only way I knew how."
"I coulda protected her." Lennox insists, but the shake in his voice indicates that he knows that isn't necessarily true.
"I know." Coryo agrees anyway. "And I know it sounds like I'm lying to you but I mean it when I say I just want to help her. To give her a better future."
"Maybe," Lennox's jaw tenses and he slightly shakes his head. "But that doesn't mean you can treat her like she's nothin' to you. Especially if you actually care about her, which I am still skeptical of- for the record."
"I do." He assures your brother. "It's just... I don't expect you to understand but it is extremely complicated. There's a lot of pressure on me to keep the impression that our relationship is... professional."
"The hell you mean, 'professional?' She loves you. She loves you more than she should and you don't deserve that from her. Even if you saved her life, she doesn't owe you anything."
"I know." Coryo says again. "You're right. I won't deny that, but I need you to trust me when I say that everything I have to do, I'm doing it for her- so the Games didn't just chew her up and spit her out for nothing. She saved my life- and all I have to repay her with is my name. So I'm trying my hardest to do that."
Your brother is quiet for a moment. "Do you love her?"
"Yes," Coryo answers without a moment's hesitation. "More than I ever thought it was even possible to love another person, and I've known that since long before she ever set foot in that arena."
When Lennox doesn't reply, staring at him and trying to decide whether or not he believes it, he continues.
"I risked everything for her to win. I gave her that scarf, the rat poison, I even put something of hers into the snake tank so they wouldn't hurt her even if they caught her." He explains. "I was told before the reaping that if we cheated to help our tributes, we would have no shot at any kind of viable future but when it came down to it I didn't even consider another option because I could not live in a world without your sister."
Your brother's eyes soften as they find his again, a subtle nod indicating his understanding.
"She's... she's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning. I love her more than I could ever explain to you, Lennox. Please, even if you never trust me again, trust me right now." Coryo pleads. "I would never want to hurt her, and the fact that I have is killing me every moment she is not here."
Lennox straightens up, looking out the window as the university campus comes into their view. "I think she's the one who really needs to know that. Don't you?"
Coryo looks out the window, nodding in silent agreement and chewing on the inside of his cheek as the car comes to a stop for him to get out.
"By the way," Lennox says, that smug smile returning to his lips. "You spend too much time with my sister. 'She's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning'." He mocks his voice, using finger quotations to make his point and polishing it off with a scoff. "Never say anything like that again, Coryo. That's corny, even for Y/N."
Coryo laughs slightly. "Noted." He agrees, pushing the door open.
Armed with the information that you did still love him and maybe your brother wouldn't be hunting him down just yet for hurting you, he heads into the building looking forward to finding you for lunch.
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taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss
okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!
also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)
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I’ve been getting more and more attached to Jason’s character so please indulge me. I will be having to section these off cause I’m gonna be talking about two pieces of media </3
Titans
I’m watching season three of Titans right now and, it’s a wonder. There’s a few aspects that bother me but overall I’m in love so far.
The season makes a bold choice by literally opening on Jason- a hero- doing drugs. Sure in season two it mentions Hank doing drugs because of Hawk and it does show him in the act of snorting a substance, but the difference is, he’s an adult. Hank is a thirty something year old man who has probably most likely killed people, Jason isn’t.
Yes, Jason is violent. Yes, he did assault police officers, but he never killed anyone. Jason may legally be an adult but he still acts like a teenager because he is one. He’s a traumatized teen having to deal with the fact that he’s repressing so much from everyone he loves. He never gets an outlet to discuss what’s happened to him with people he trusts.
A great example of this is when he’s about to jump off the the Titans tower in season two. He tries talking to Dick, he says how he feels and he try’s expressing himself, he tries so hard to get his brother figure to understand what he’s going through. What does Dick do? He flips it around and unintentionally makes it about himself.
The closest we get to him actually opening up is when he starts trusting Rose, telling her about his upbringing and starting to get comfortable with her, comfortable loving her. Then she reveals that she only met him because she was trying to manipulate him.
The impact of him turning to drugs hits so much harder. He’s just scared, he turns to anything he can to help. It’s so much deeper when it’s shown that the drug he takes isn’t heroine or coke or anything like that. It’s a drug that stops fear.
He literally felt so weak that he took drugs to repress his emotions to the point where he felt nothing, he felt nothing and thought he was better because of it. There’s no doubt that at this point in the story he’s addicted. Jason started using before he died and the madman who gave him the drugs started using them to manipulate him. I’m really interested in where the story is gonna go with it, I really hope it actually dives into withdrawal and how Jason would cope with everything going on around him without the help of drugs.
Comics/Animation
Overall with every piece of media I see regarding Jason and the batfam, it never really manages to depict Bruce and Jason’s relationship accurately, one of the good ones was that single episode of Titans. (in my opinion).
Me personally, I see Bruce and Jason’s relationship in a very complicated light.
When he first gets adopted, Jason views Bruce as a nurturing figure. He sees him like every child sees their parents, perfect. It’s like he can do no wrong. He’s Batman! And he made Jason Robin! It’s a perfect opportunity, he was being helped, he finally had a dad, one that loved him.
Before Jason died, he still very much idolized Bruce but not to the point of thinking he was perfect. He knew Bruce wasn’t perfect, he just couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. Jason couldn’t face the fact that Batman didn’t need a Robin, he didn’t accept that he could still be Bruce’s son without being Robin.
After he died and came back, there was resentment. He hated Bruce, despised him with every fiber of his being. Depending on what canon you’re watching/reading, there’s different reasons for why. Either Jason is mad that Bruce took Robin away from him before he died, effectively taking away his only coping mechanism, therefore resulting in his death. Or, he hates Bruce for not killing Joker. His father didn’t avenge him, he could care less about Batman having an obligation to avenge Robin as his sidekick—fuck Robin. He cares that Bruce, as a father, didn’t kill the Joker to avenge his son. He let his sons killer roam free, putting the psycho in Arkham won’t do anything. Or or, he holds resentment that Bruce couldn’t save him. He couldn’t save his sidekick, his son, his Robin. He failed.
No matter what happens between the duo, Jason always holds self loathing in his heart because of Bruce.
Across all forms of media, he always develops the thought that Bruce hates him. He always thinks that he’s the ‘least favorite/most hated child’ even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Bruce loves him, Jason is undoubtedly the favorite child.
(Sneaking a Titans reference in here—) The fact of Bruce caring for Jason more than his other children, (cough cough DICK) is solidified when he takes the Robin mantle away from Jason. He’s trying to protect his son in a way he thinks is best. He saw and heard what being Robin did to Dick, he doesn’t want to put Jason through that. Even the line where Bruce says “I don’t want to make the same mistakes.” Jason perceives it as Bruce calling him a mistake. He lashes out and gets angry because he thinks that he’s being called a mistake. It’s not true, the sentence itself with the context of the episode and the episode before show that it’s not true. Bruce is calling Dick his mistake, not Jason.
Throughout everything, Jason sees anything negative that Bruce says or does as a direct attack on him, when he’s the only one Bruce actually tried to parent. Dick was treated like a weapon. Jason, as a child.
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alright so i’ve been seeing the watcher posts and gathering my thoughts so i’m gonna put all my watcher stuff in one big post under the cut cause it’s gonna get long and i need to get this out of my head.
i will say 99% of the fandom was expecting a fun, exciting, omg can’t wait for it type of announcement and seeing the title and thumb nail for the first time made me really nervous.
also, side note, why on earth would they choose a thumbnail of the three of them sitting on a couch like that with the title “goodbye youtube”?? just the imagery alone makes you think of the try guys and their now infamous video like why would you want that comparison right out the gate before you even say anything?? super weird choice.
then the video is all nostalgic and wistful, clips of steven’s, ryan’s, and shane’s, pre-buzzfeed youtube videos and i’m thinking “did someone die cause this feels like a video obit” none of this calmed my nerves and made me more anxious about what could be coming. and then we all know what happened next, they announce that they’re paywalling everything yada yada yada
and after seeing everyone else’s takes and the general vibe of the fandom being “fuck watcher” it continues to baffle me why they thought this was gonna go over well. because to me it feels like they went from “yay we have our own youtube channel” to “give us your cash we’re a media empire” and missed A LOT of steps in between.
and i dunno maybe watcher did try to change things and tweak their business model and things weren’t getting better but as a fan and someone who watches a lot of different youtubers you kinda see this one coming. like creators drop little crumbs beforehand to gauge how people will take it or they try weird series/shows that have like 3 episodes to see what their audience is more interested in. there are a signs as a fan you can see but i think one of the reasons this went so badly for watcher is because it was so far out of left field. there was never a hint that the youtube model wasn’t working for them.
but again maybe they did try x, y, and z without it working or being transparent about it and if they were trying things why not lean into that to garner compassion from fans? we all know the youtube algorithm sucks and if they had started the video talking about the things they tried and how nothing was working and how much it sucked to leave youtube i think people would’ve understood. then they could’ve had shane talk about how subscriptions suck and there are too many of them and they tried to find another solution but couldn’t. now not only do i have sympathy for what there going through i had my feelings validated. then they could’ve gone into why this is better and what i’m going to get out of it as a consumer.
like it’s not that hard. but instead the vibe i got from them was a real palpable relief that they were leaving youtube which felt like a slap in the face.
and while i don’t agree with the steven bashing at all i do think it’s a little bit funny that they kinda dug themselves into that hole with their end of the year behind the scenes video they put out last fall. they really painted steven as a genius ceo while ryan and shane are just on screen talent. so while i feel for what steven is going through they kinda put themselves in that position.
all of this to say that it doesn’t feel like they hired anyone to field this idea by or do any kind of market research at all and the vibe that i’ve always kinda gotten from watcher is one where they want to jump over the messiness and growing pains of being a new small business and be established. be this huge force a la dropout/college humor without putting in the time to get there. and i do think watcher showed it’s true colors here where they only think of fans as cash cows they can deposit whenever.
and just the arrogance of thinking their fans will follow them to a subscription and trying to spin it as it being the same thing as leaving buzzfeed drives me up the wall. it’s not the same.
anyway i think that’s it. if i think of anything else ill edit this post ✌️
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The Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth - O2 Academy Bristol. November 27, 2013 by Adam Gasson
After 11 years of not finding a single photo from this show, I found these yesterday! I can not begin to express what this means to me, I nearly cried and I couldn't sleep last night. I was still a rather new fan and this was my first time going to a show in the UK, the first show I went to see with a friend, and my first time meeting that friend, too. And these above photos are SO GOOD! Not much was preserved from this show at all, there was no recording allowed (no charcoal drawings either), and to my knowledge not even the full setlist for this specific show was preserved anywhere. So better late than never, but here's what I remember (with some help from these photos!) and the things I've puzzled back together:
If there was opening music or an opening act, i don't recall, but Russell entered the stage alone. It was dramatic and impactful, and it went quiet as he gave an intense stare into the audience and did a drawn out "ahhh" into the microphone. After a little moment of quiet, it turned out the microphone had been connected to a sequencer which now started repeating "ah ah ah ah ah ah". Suspense, excitement. Russell added: "Hold, hold, hold, hold". (...I was definitely freaking out.) While that started looping on top of the ah ah ah sequence, he made stop signs with his hand as we all listened. A few repeats passed. "I'm getting mixed signals, mixed signals - mixed, mixed, mixed signals".
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^ the only seconds of this show I recorded as I didn't yet know it wasn't allowed - security signed at me and I put the camera away. It was fine. (Here's a recording of it made during the US tour later that year - recording seemed to be less frowned upon at that point.)
I don't recall when Ron entered the stage at this show, whether it was during the song or after, but what a way to open! And what an amazing song choice!
The performance that left the biggest impression on me at this show though was Nicotina. It was a choice I didn't see coming, but also the way Russell sang it! Falsetto heaven. (Sadly not a single video is to be found of Nicotina from this tour. But for your falsetto heaven needs, I hope you can find a video of Here In Heaven that they also performed on this tour, because that will also kill you.)
As everyone here probably knows I am quite big on Bergman, which at the time was heavily promoted during the tours, and, the excerpts they played on this tour were different from what they played during Two Hands One Mouth! They played "I Am Ingmar Bergman", The Studio Commissary (my favourite song on Bergman), Limo Driver (but sang by Russell, and HOW!) and "Oh My God". (Here's a video of it from one of the American shows. It's extremely good. People who've been around for a while have seen me lose it over this video many times.)
The most unexpected song choice was probably Katherine Hepburn. Me and my friend had been joking for absolute months that we were going to see Sparks and they'd play Katherine Hepburn (as if that would ever happen, we were obsessed with that song though!). And here we were, and they were playing Katherine Hepburn right in front of our eyes. (What is reality.)
Falling In Love With Myself Again had me losing it over the organ sounds, always a fan of Ron on organ, and I LOVE that song. Russell sang a line in my direction (I died), and he managed to throw another line at me during Those Mysteries ...I died a few times that night. As you might expect. That was kind of the whole THOM/TROTHOM experience anyway. Lots of dying. But the variety of dying where you end up in heaven. (You're at a Sparks show after all.)
They wrote a song especially for this tour, which was not released but only ever played live: Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth. What a thing to experience! A very dark song, but wonderful. (REVENGE! REVENGE REVENGE!)
At the end of the show Ron took a photo of Russell with the audience. I don't really remember that happening, but the photo exists and it really was not a thing they did often back then. We had been a good audience :)
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Here's all the songs that were probably played that night in random order:
Your Call's Very Important To Us. Please Hold., B.C., Good Morning, Here In Heaven, Academy Award Performance, Those Mysteries, Falling In Love With Myself Again, Big Boy, Nicotina, Popularity, This Town Ain't Big Enough For Both Of Us, excerpts from The Seduction Of Ingmar Bergman, Tryouts For The Human Race, Katherine Hepburn, Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth. They likely also played The Number One Song in Heaven, When Do I Get To Sing 'My Way' and Suburban Homeboy. (I see mentions of How Are You Getting Home? and How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall? in setlists for this tour as well, which they very well might have played but I very sadly have zero memory of ever hearing those songs live.)
This tour had a real air of mystery, possibly even more so than Two Hands One Mouth, as the lack of existing footage definitely adds to it. But luckily some of it *is* out there, and I am so grateful for these photos :) On top of the songs I especially mentioned above, I would also advise people to look for recordings of Tryouts For The Human Race and Popularity from this tour, because the arrangements are probably not going to be the way you expect them to be. And as you might expect: B.C. is stunning live. (I could start a whole rant about Good Morning and Suburban Homeboy live but I think I sufficiently screamed about both in my personal notes on THOM the year prior.) Final note: I know Russell had some sort of dance move for Big Boy because me and another friend couldn't stop talking about it for months. I don't remember what he did, but both THOM and TROTHOM were wonderful for Russell dances <3
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bloogers-boogers · 2 days
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Forbidden Power AU. This AU focuses on Michael, it's the end of all Creation, all thanks to Lucifer's Spawn. Michael's final attempt to fix everything is to Disturb their father Only To Discover that his father is dead and has been dead for what looks like years there is still hope his father may be dead but his Authority can still be used... All angels authorities are held in Halos and God is no exception... Michael has a halo So he can go back and fix everything... The issue is the darkness in his heart, his Desire for the First man... Originally he was going to leave Almost everything unchanged...but this is an Opportunity he never did get or never should have had...can he stay on the noble path...ya No Michael has bin the good boy all his Existence and he will continue to be the good boy But he will be so when it comes to Adam and make Adam Exactly how he wants him to be
Hopefully this ask is for me and not mistaken for another blog shsiwbdjiwe do not get me wrong I love the guitarhero ship but I haven't posted anything about them aside from the drawing I made for @/ironbatpaperturtle (and my adamsapple fic) so I have a feeling that maybe this ask wasn't for me 😭
I should tho... like write more of them cause ngl I really like them together but my whole view on those two is far different than @/ironbatpaperturtle's Michael and Adam ahdjendiw
BUT if this anon is for me then I appreciate you for sharing me your au whdjwkdjdwoek 💖 now, with all that said let me proceed on actually answering you.
Omygod. Okay first, I think the God being dead for the longest period is such an interesting concept I read something similar like this before in a fic (adamsapple) called 'the devil you know /by anglotron' so I like it, kinda explains why angels would be put in so much work (do drastic choices) if God isn't there to guide them and solve things for them or just get involved but I also love the concept of him not giving a f*ck shjsiahdwiwbs after Lucifer's fall/betrayal he was just left hopeless for anything; his most "perfect creation" (Adam) corrupted by evil and then his most "perfect angel" turned out to have been the one to bring said corruption. (he may still care for Michael and Jesus tho but like it's hard for him to care about the rest) and letting all his children figure it out themselves (poor Sera), like, I can picture him just as depressed like Lucifer in the show issisofksos but unlike him who copes with making ducks, God just lays in the couch mopping about how disappointed in humanity he is and how "perfect" everything was before he planted the damn apple on earth, while he bosses Michael and maybe Metatron too (tho with him he's a lot more harsher bc he was previously human and he's kinda just bitter about them in general, but he's proven his worth enough) around to bring him shit like ice cream or junk food (tho he could easily just summoned all those things he subconsciously just wants company and Michael is there to bring it to him the only angel that has not yet disappointed/maintain loyal to him). So yeah.
Anyways — I still like the concept of God actually being dead. Like when you say Michael has a halo do you meant like he holds on to God's halo? Cause that's kinda cool af, imagine him just holding on to the halo of God (maybe even pitifully hopeful their father would return 'saving it for him') so he just has the halo on him and everyone just "oh shit this motherfucker really could just end it all if he wanted to" but Michael just doesn't cause 'with great power holds big responsibility' type of mentality and I think it'd be funny if Lucifer confronts heaven and is in a determined search for Michael to provoke him and remind him he's still the most perfect of all God's creation (mosty just salty as hell bc Michael cast him to hell lmao) and then when he finds Michael he like comes up with a taunting comment about how bad heaven turned out to be Yada Yada that neither realm is perfect or better than the other, and BAM suddenly his eyes drifted to Michael's head and recognizes the halo.
"Is that—...!"
"Yeah," Michael simply states defeated in his chair, unfazed by his brother arrival, from all the chaos going on, his people being murder, just, done, "father's gone, Lucifer."
So they just stare at eochother in silence, Lucifer with a stunned almost hurt expression and Michael with a nonchalant one. After the realization hitting him like a truck Lucifer realizes there was no end to the chaos released to all realms after Charlie unintentionally brought it to them if God wasn't there to fix it all...
Fear overwhelming him now cause he was kinda chilled out about the whole thing knowingly God would have to intervene soon because heaven was also being attacked by evil- but now realizing he's dead, it like hits him hard, mostly worried for his daughter's fate more than anything else.
Then, another thing hits him, "wait! What aren't you doing anything?! You can fix this, Michael! You have father's power, we can-"
Michael lifts his hand to signal him to stop, "I'm not planning to do anything."
"WHAT?!! Do you realize your people are also being attacked!"
"Your daughter brought this among ourselves, now, she must find her way to solve it."
"But she won't be-"
"Silence. If she was able to bring it to us then she's more than capable of putting it back. If not, that's no longer my problem"
"YOU-!"
"No, Lucifer," he stands up, the power of God emitting through his aura, the millions of eyes on him, big six graceful wings extended to show their full on glory, eyes bright like the intensity of a star. His voice was much more deeper and cold, distant, detached, "I lost everything because of your silly dream of free will, and now redemption. Look at where it lead us, prove me wrong this time, if it doesn't succeed then it was meant to be that way. Accept your fate.
I would create something new, something different. Something that won't betray its kind. No longer you existing. It will be perfect."
Lucifer felt so tiny now. That was no longer the brother he once knew. Not the caring, gentle, protective fiercely warrior that he once was.
Only filled with rage, grief and pain.
Michael... is dead too.
But anyways with all that, somehow lets say both Charlie and Lucifer mange to remind Michael of his love for the countless souls left at his hands to care and protect. And I dunno maybe a song too ahdhdiqgsjahsia and what gets the cake is Michael seeing Adam alive, behind the two, who somewhat stumble across their intervention in a 'bad timing'.
"Hey bitch you forgot your tampon— oh shit! Wrong room," Adam (now sinner) appears at the door oblivious of the whole deal.
"Adam!" Charlie shouted annoyed as they were already, almost, having a heartfelt moment between her father and Michael.
Michael eyes watered, "ADAM!" He pushes past Charlie and Lucifer who are now just confused as fuck seeing how Michael (filled with new growing hope) crushes Adam in a big hug with all the intensity of his power and somehow it was till so gentle and careful that it didn't kill Adam.
And the first man just there struggling to get loose while also suffocating.
Idk I just like Michael still having to be the hero even in circumstances where he doesn't want to. So the universe just grants him a purpose for he to keep following up God's title for him. If he wasn't gonna do shit because he lost Adam? Then BAM! Sinner Adam is now a thing so keep your ass moving Michael!
Michael now wants to fix things up to keep Adam safe; his new purpose (reason) on protecting heaven, his people and the countless souls God left him in charge with.
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rorja · 2 days
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synopsis. you, suguru, and a window left open— or, the soothing lullaby of springtime.
a/n. very much self-indulgent and probably with a lot of mistakes (be patient please, i’ll correct it first thing in the morning!) but i really needed to write a moment of peace after a troubling week…….. also, i’ve been very sick and this is my first attempt at writing after a long time so i apologize if it’s not that good TT — 🐣
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it was comforting, watching the thin but sturdy branches of the plum tree stretching to the glittering dots adorning the sky. regulus's fiery mane moving delicately as the evening breeze's note echoed in the air. waking up every sleeping blossom, cradling in a motherly embrace each of its sons and daughters that were yet to be awakened.
spring. where your eyes landed you could spot significant signs of its long awaited arrival, from the night sky to the grass steadily growing inches in your neighborhood's garden. it made a smile bloom on your lips, the same way pink and whiteish buds littered every branch of the plum trees.
you traced the astronomical asterism one more time, drawing an imaginary line that connected the three luminous stars of the evenings to come. an invisible triangle that linked arcturus with spica, just to finish on the other side of the sky and meet with the last component of the brightly lit trio: regulus. many people (and internet. mostly internet) would argue with power points at hand and scientific theories that the white star of denebola was a better choice than regulus. more suited to close the imaginary triangle, resulting in a nearly equilateral one at the price of brightness.
but you didn't care. that place belonged to regulus because that is what you saw the first time you used a telescope. and no one could've made you change your mind, of that you were sure. stubborn just as much over something that wasn't even real but dear to you.
your chest danced slightly— a breathy chuckle finding its way out as you eventually lifted your growing aching arms from the windowsill.
(you know a person who would've found that stubborness of yours endearing.)
a yawn parted your lips and the door cracked open. it had been a long day— a long week even, for both of you of course. but this time around it had been particularly rough for suguru. he was the one to come home with an aching back and tired limbs, though it was not that hard to see how fatigue latched on his body. a voracious snake that found a comfortable nest in between his chest, refusing to leave him alone.
it was the main reason as to why dinner was made a little earlier today and the dishes were left on the counter to dry for the night. you will put them back in the respective cupboard tomorrow as the first thing in the morning. for tonight, you decided to prioritize your rest.
it was also the reason why suguru took a longer-than-usual shower and got out of it only now. the noticeable difference in his shoulders made relief bloom in your chest— no more slumped, or a tad bit droopy but instead relieved, back to their natural stance as if the weight holding them down had been lifted. a minuscule change that probably would have gone unnoticed by others.
he walked toward the bed, phone steady in one hand while typing an answer to satoru and ieiri. it was easy to tell who suguru was writing to. you noticed overtime that when he texted the two of them he wiggled his nose a lot and (if gojo ended up saying something stupid or sending weird memes) his frown lines became more wrinkled, like a child trying to comprehend the meaning of a new word. it was adorable.
you followed his steps, raising the duvets and moving away the excessive amount of pillows on your side of the bed. suguru did the same on his own half.
"satoru giving you a hard time?" a breathy chuckle. he didn't answer, simply shaking his head in resignation and placing the phone on his bedside table before collapsing on the bed with a content exhale. you took that as a sign to join him.
"just satoru being satoru," you didn't fail to notice how his eyes softened when looking at you, "i think yuji should stop teaching him about internet slangs. he's been doing the deez nuts thing for two weeks already"
though there were traces of hopelessness heavily lingering on his words, you couldn't help but notice something else— something that you recognized immediately after as fondness. a familiar feeling that he reserved only for the few people he truly cared about. you didn't even try to stop the laughter bubbling in your chest.
(suguru watched as your eyes crinkled in amusement. the sound of your laughter lulling him to further relieve- soothing away every stubborn trace of stress still sitting heavy in his bones.
spring waltzed from the opened window, attracted by your presence. he couldn't blame it; you were the spring he eagerly looked forward to seeing each day.)
when your laugh eventually dimmed, his phone lightened up with new messages to read. suguru retrieved it and you did the same with yours, wordlessly shifting in a comfortable lull and a familiar embrace. a satisfied hum broke momentarily the blanket of silence falling on the room when you felt his free arm around your shoulders. fingers playing absentmindedly with the strands of your hair, messily splayed on the pillow.
you nuzzled closer to his chest, your cheek now resting on the thin fabric of his white shirt he had been recently using to sleep with. phone clasped in one of your hands while you scrolled mindlessly through the feed of your favorite social media.
and it's gentle. serene. a moment of shared complicity that carried the veiled scent of blossoming flowers and stardust. a needed addition to the relationship that brought somehow a welcomed sense of mundanity.
when suguru eventually fell asleep first, his chin resting on top of your head, you didn't have it in yourself to get up and close the window. too pleasant, too cozy to even entertain the thought of leaving it for a few seconds. you will close it tomorrow, first thing in the morning. as of tonight, you'll let yourself be cradled by the sweet lullaby happening outside that very same window.
(suguru's arms never felt so much like home before.)
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I have seen a post comparing Steven's adoption of Henry II in the anarchy with what the Velaryons did with the Strong boys wanting to justify that their claim is legitimate, but in my humble opinion it is not comparable at all. This situation could be extrapolated to Aegon II having adopted his nephew Aegon (that was the LEGITIMATE son of his political rival) having himself a living son, in addition everyone would know that he is not his son and well in this case it would not be applicable but the adopted heir retains his family name...This is not what happens with the Strong boys, It has nothing to do with the modern concept of adoption that they want to apply. I don't understand why it's so hard for them to accept that these guys had no real claim to the throne. They can continue enjoying their characters accepting that they are bastards in every sense of the word. Do you think they are comparable situations?
I haven't seen this argument myself but clearly those are two completely different situations. Stephen didn't adopt Henry II, he made him his heir as a compromise to end to the civil war. And yes, the clear parallel would Aegon II naming Aegon III his heir over Jaehaerys and Maelor, had they survived. Again, this was part of a peace treaty. Everyone knew who Henry II's parents were, and there was no question of his not being trueborn. Henry II was still Count of Anjou, the title he inherited through his father, and styled himself Henry FitzEmpress in honor of his mother.
To understand why this happened, we need to look at some context. Henry II was only 20 when he decided to re-take his mother's throne, and Stephen was past 60. At that point England had been at war off and on for the better part of 15 years and both the clergy and the lords were unenthusiastic about continuing and forced Henry and Stephen to the peace table after Henry made some early gains in his campaign. Stephen respected Henry, and Stephen's own sons were kind of uninspiring as future kings go. Eustace, the older son and main obstacle, died before Stephen did, and the younger son, William, agreed to renounce his claim. Stephen never really took the throne due to strong personal ambition in the first place, but because he was persuaded by people close to him that Matilda would be a poor choice for queen, both due to her being a woman and due to the influence of her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, who was pretty well hated in England. Leaving the throne to his children did not seem to be a major consideration for him when all was said and done. Conceding heirship to Henry II meant that the fighting could come to an end, and the country would be in capable hands, but Stephen himself would not face the humiliation and possible consequences of being outright deposed. As it turned out, Stephen died not even a year later, so Henry II took the throne sooner than expected.
Rhaenyra's Strong children are bastards that she's trying to put into the line of succession while claiming they are trueborn. They were not "adopted" by the Velaryons. The medieval world did not have a concept of adoption like we do in the modern world (Rome did, but not medieval Europe). The reason why it is treason to call them bastards is because what Rhaenyra is doing is illegal, and Viserys, Corlys, and Laenor are shielding her from the consequences. I wrote a post here about the whole idea that Rhaenyra's children are not legally bastards, but I have to admit comparing them to Henry II becoming heir after Stephen is a new one!
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cilil · 3 days
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Day 7 ~ Remembrance & New Beginnings
AN: My contribution for day 7 of @silmarillionepistolary and quick side note: I am aware that the Hobbits are said to stay on Tol Eressëa, but I prefer to hc that they went to the gardens of Lórien to hang out with Irmo and be healed by Estë and possibly visited other locations in Valinor as well.
𓂃🖋 Characters/pairings: Bilbo & Manwë 𓂃🖋 Synopsis: Bilbo receives an invitation from the Elder King himself. 𓂃🖋 Warnings: / 𓂃🖋 Oneshot (~600 words) | AO3
Dear Mr. Baggins,
I hope you are well and enjoy your stay in the gardens of Lórien. 
It has come to my attention that, during your time in Middle-earth, you wrote a book about your adventures. Now, I hear that you didn't take said book with you on your journey — which, as sad as it may be for those among us who love and cherish such stories, myself included, was a wise choice. It appears that written records are currently the safest and most convenient way to preserve tales and knowledge for future generations of Ilúvatar's mortal children. 
Even so, your memories remain, and I have been wondering if you would like to tell us about your adventures. My wife and I, as well as our friends, would love to listen. Your stories could, if you wish, also be recorded for the libraries of Valinor — though do not worry, you will of course not have to write everything down again, our dear friend Vairë and her Maiar would be happy to do so for you. 
I am certain you have wonderful tales for us, Mr. Baggins, and my birds tell me that you are a very entertaining storyteller as well. What they have told me over the years was lovely already, though their record of events would naturally pale in comparison to yours. 
Please let me know if you would be willing to entertain such a request. Either way, we would be honoured to have you as a guest, should you choose to visit us on Taniquetil — or, alternatively, we can also visit you in Lórien. The other Ring-bearers are, of course, welcome as well; after all they have their own stories to tell. 
I look forward to hearing from you. 
King regards,  Manwë Súlimo 
Pleased with himself, Bilbo folded the letter and caressed the fine paper. He reached out with his free hand to pet the bird that had delivered it to him — some species of falcon, if he wasn't mistaken — and smiled when it leaned into his touch without question. 
Even the animals are different here in the Undying Lands.
"Well, wouldn't you know that," Bilbo mumbled, addressing no one in particular, "who would have thought that an old Hobbit like me could get a letter from the Elder King himself?" 
He omitted the fact that he hadn't been entirely sure of his existence at times and instead thought of the birds Manwë had mentioned. So he had heard bits and pieces of his grand tales before, brought to him by them? Bilbo thought about the birds he had seen in the Shire, mostly tiny songbirds, and how they may have listened to idle Hobbit gossip and brought it home to their esteemed lord. 
To think that the Elder King may have heard us argue about silverware... The thought made him chuckle, and he carefully pocketed the letter. 
As for Manwë's request, Bilbo already knew what his answer would be. Of course he was going to seize the opportunity to tell the King and Queen of Arda about his adventures — especially when at least one of them seemed curious, which was quite flattering to say the least. And he would be able to leave another book behind, one that would be written and kept by immortal hands in an immortal land. 
He would leave this world one day, but his tales would remain. 
The bird stayed where it was even as he headed for his desk, watching him attentively. Perhaps it was going to wait until he had composed his answer, Bilbo thought, and sat down to do just that. 
"A long and wonderful tale indeed," he mused aloud, "and at the beginning, I would have never thought that an old wizard knocking on my door would one day lead me to the Elder King's palace."
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Thanks for reading! ♡
taglist: @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars
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haemosexuality · 11 months
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these past few days i have been uncharacteristically. emotionally open. w my friend and it has me thinking about how truly for all of my life i just did not expect anything from anyone
#like since i was a kid i just accepted in my head that all the ''friends'' id have were ppl who either were just putting up w me (probably#bc they had no one else and i was like. what was available) or ppl who cared ab me yeah but i was still their second or third choice#and i was just like. yeah ok. i can survive w that. like consciously i made the choice to hang out w people i knew didnt really like me#bc it was better than not having anyone to talk to#did it hurt any less when those ppl eventually stopped talking to me or i learned theyve been talking about how annoying i am to others?#no it didnt. bc i still cared about Them and had Them as my first choice. but i just thought. thats just how it is. im jist not really#likeable. so ill take what i can get#when i was like 7 or 8. i had one friend at school. and she had like some issues at home or smth idk but sometimes she would just start.#treating me badly or just ignoring me for months at a time. and its not like it deeply traumatized me or anything i honestly didmt remember#this fact until like last year but the thing is that i just. accepted it. i was just like yeah ok for half of the year or so my only friend#will act like she hates me and ill have no one to talk to. thats fine. ill just wait until next year when she likes me again. at age 7. and#now im just like what the fuck man why did i just accept that as my life. through all my childhood and then with other friends in my teen#years why did i never not once try to do better for myself. yknow?#when i was 11 and in another school my best friend suddenly started not talking to me. after a month or so of this i decided to invite her#to my house to play like we had done so several times before and she just looked at me like she was confused i was talking to her at all#and said ''why?''. and i was just like. ok. thats that i guess. genuinely why did i just accept these things#and like yeah i have friends that i feel Get me now and one i love just so much and i can tell loves me back but theyre online. i dont talk#to anyone irl. i dont know how. and im happy im so happy but im also scared that im just doomed to be extremely lonely forever irl#because i am legit just not likeable. not to be a weird a weirdo but yeah im just too different from ur average person my age i cant#connect with them in any way. and i also dont know how to talk to people or make friends or to find people that are like me. ill just#not have anyone forever#i guess#especially bc now i dont hate myself enough to hang out with people i dont like so like. i dont even have that as an option skdbskdjks#Every friend i ever made happened bc the other person reached out to me first and insisted on it. all the friendships that stuck were the#gay autistic/adhd weirdonerds who can relate to my hyperfixations and dont expect me to act Normal™. idk how to find the former group irl#and have never once iniciated a friendship. my fate is to be someone who has online friends only and exclusively#and dont even get me STARTED on the topic of having a girlfriend someday-#anyways. certified magnus archives moment
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wild-wombytch · 5 months
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Healthy anxiety coping mechanism ✅:
using the sophrology exercises I learnt today before tackling the call with my brother
My toxic chosen anxiety coping mechanism 😈 :
Sending a seething reply with thinly veiled threats to my ex harassing me/being creepy + filling it with radfem propaganda before having a 1min monologue with my brother's voicemail
#as a note : said ex is a male who made me realise that my idea of men was very different than the actual male body and being in a#relationship with one. He's also the kind radblr would want dead. He's a conservative pornsick pua who paid prostitues and raped me#on top of about all the male degeneracy you can imagine. So defo a terrible person I got with only because I was groomed#had internalised lesbophobia lack of self-awareness due to traumas and because I was overall in a terrible mental place#so don't feel sorry for him and please don't question my sexuality over him. I literally had my suicide planned back then#and made a lot of terrible and traumatizing life choices back then in order to self-sabotage and prompted by previous traumas#my agency over this was to break up/return in my country after three weeks of rapes under the same roof only to be raped againj#when I completely wasted myself and was coping with the process of whatever happened to me#I shouldn't have to justify it but some people here are quick to make assumptions and I've come to care a lot about radblr#and understand why some women here are wary of lesbians who have been with men given the rampant bi/lesbophobia#I was already repulsed by the male body before my rapes. i just thought I had to fix it and something was wrong with me and that being#a lesbian was bigoted (thanks TRAs for that one)#Anywaaaaays. I hope y'all are having a better day than me. It was fun to dump on my rapist that he has no business giving his opinion#about my sexuality or anything in general tho 🙃#Tañ ha Gerioù
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sluttyten · 2 years
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#I woke up with a pit of anxiety in my belly and I was so confused about what had me feeling this way#just like dreading getting up out of bed and going into work#like I didn’t know what I had so much anxiety over#and then I remembered my boss offered for me to go work at a different location in a different city for a week and I didn’t actually give#him an answer yet#I’m a huge homebody like if I have the choice of being at home or anywhere else I am most likely going to choose being home#plus I would be going to a city where I know no one and staying in a hotel alone for a week and driving to this place by myself and I’m just#so unsure about all of that. I think I should do it because it’ll probably be fine but at the same time I’m just incredibly like anxious and#because* of the thought of having to stay alone in a hotel room for a week#staying home alone for a week is bad enough#and when I asked my mom for her advice she didn’t really help me much but I think that’s because I wanted her to give me a yes or a no#and then my best friend was literally exactly 0 percent helpful because I vented all this too her and her response was ‘oof’ like??? you#don’t have anything maybe a little more helpful to at to me?#anyway my boss works today so I might have to give him an answer today#but I’ve been feeling sick to my stomach since he gave me this offer which lol is exactly how I felt when he offered me a promotion like 9#months ago and I worried about it for a week before agreeing to fill the position for a month (which gave me anxiety every day literally the#day he told me he had someone else to fill the position if I was sure I didn’t want to stay in it I felt a wave of relief literally so much#tension left my body immediately upon hearing those words)#anyway though that’s why I was so inactive yesterday bc I was sitting in my house in like an anxious stupor just watching Netflix and trying#to avoid thinking about this because it made my heart pound uncomfortably but also it was all I could think of#but also I was kinda in a weird mood before that yesterday#ALSO the week he told me he wants to go do that I’m like?? bc recently he also told me he needs me to fill in for a week for the girl who#filled the position I stepped back down from and I’m like? so you’re gonna have me go work in a different store then come back the next week#and do a different job that I don’t want to do in our store? all the while I really want to just take a few days off but I haven’t been able#to because there’s no one who can cover for me to take off and I don’t want to leave us shortstaffed and now it’s summer and we finally have#more people he keeps telling me he needs me to do/wants me to do things that make it impossible to take a few days off#but also my family is planning to go on a trip probably in the fall we don’t know where to yet and we have zero plans made but I probably do#need to save up my PTO hours for that instead of just a few random days off but ugh#also more and more lately I’m like I should really just find a new job. but this one gives me good hours like 40 a week and the hours I want#sorry for this rambling rant
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mcmansionhell · 3 months
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we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven
Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.
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Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.
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It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.
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The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.
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It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.
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And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.
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Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.
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A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.
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Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.
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At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.
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And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.
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thebibliosphere · 6 months
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So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)
The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."
They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?
Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.
Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)
It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:
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ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."
Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.
This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:
"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."
This is what the AI changed it to:
"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."
Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"
Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?
Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.
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inkskinned · 9 months
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no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
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zhongrin · 4 months
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festered wounds
— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.
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© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’
✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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“i’m sorry.”
zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.
“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.
“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”
“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”
zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.
belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.
zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.
“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”
“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”
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“a-are you sure you want me?”
out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.
“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”
“oh….”
“….”
“….”
you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.
“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”
you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.
and it angered him.
but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.
funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.
“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”
“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”
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“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”
wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—
he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.
“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”
he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…
“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”
“then is your own head telling you that?”
“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.
he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.
he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.
“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”
the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.
he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.
“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: yandere, noncon, size/strength difference
gn reader
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Thinking about breaking things off with your fuck friend 'cause you feel he's been catching feelings you have no intention of pitching...
“Why.” He asked, and the cross you’d made on your fingers in a wish to avoid the entire conversation untangled with a sigh.
“Please, don’t act dumb.” You groaned, exasperated and slightly irked. “You know why….” 
“No. Tell me.” He argued, and you sighed again in regret of your own common decency – wishing you’d taken the entire break-off over text instead, or at the very least taken the time to think about what you would say or do if and when he got this way. 
“You...”
You hesitated, taking a second to decide whether or not you really ought to voice it out loud – not because you had any doubts of it being true – but because the man in front of you was still very much a large brawny beefcake with temper issues no matter your sneaking suspicion that he saw you as something more than just a fuck friend.
“You’re getting too...” You continued, still scrambling for better words. Coming up short. “Clingy.”
He paused, his expression going from searching to a mix of offended and scrutinous.
“Clingy?” He repeated, forced disbelief a present factor in his tone. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who clings to me- screaming my name- begging me to cum inside you and-”
You cut his rant off with yet another sigh accompanied by a shake of your head. “That’s not what I mean by clingy. I’m sorry, I should have said emotional, and your comment just proved that.”
You folded your arms across your chest, watching him reel.
“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. We’re done.” 
You left him on the sofa to go put your shoes back on – admonishing yourself for coming inside in the first place when you could have just as quickly done this on the doorstep and walked away.
“You're not going anywhere until we talk this through.” He followed, his stronger hand latching onto your upper arm in a grip that was unnecessarily harsh.
You didn’t really mind, though – it was his lack of charm that had charmed you to begin with – you only wished he’d remained that same savage he was and not gone all lovey-dovey soft on you.
“There's nothing to discuss.” You felt as though you were repeating yourself, getting more annoyed by the fact. “It was fun; now it isn't.” You underlined, looking back into his eyes, cringing when seeing the gloss of something that you really hoped wouldn’t amount to tears while you were still there.
“I'm gonna need more than that.” He said, the grip on your arm still kept firm with no inclination of letting up.
You didn’t really want things to get more awkward by asking him to let you go – feeling as though maintaining the position of strength was important so he not mistake your resolution.
He had a nasty habit of never taking you seriously.
“You’re being childish.” You stated.
“Childish?!”
His grip tightened with his outburst, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your heart jump to your throat.
"Let go of me." Your voice had significantly diminished.
"You think you can tease me like this and then tell me to piss off?” He seethed, your arm aching in the bruising grip he had on it as he pulled you close until your face was an inch from his. “Think again."
Your breath thinned under his glare, and you felt nearly too stiff to do anything except stare back up at him in wait.
“Calm down.” You tried, but it seemed choice words were too little too late to save you.
“I am calm.” He hissed back into your face before pulling you back to the sofa.
Throwing you down on your back – you didn’t even have the time to gasp before he was on top of you.
“Get off me-” You whined, your hands shooting forth – trying with all your might to heave him off, but ultimately amounting to nothing more than a slight annoyance to the much larger man on top.
“It's all about sex with you, right? You want to have fun, right?” He said in a craze, and you cringed while he leaned down to graze your chest with chin-stubble and lips, whispering at your peachfuzz until goosebumps rose. “So let's have some fun.”
“Stop it – I said I don't want to anymore – I’m being serious.” You tried, once again – appealing to his reason.
But it would seem he was beyond reason…
“Oh? You're being serious?” He mocked with a sneer and a laugh. “You don't look it. If you want me to stop so badly, then stop me. Come on~ try a little harder. Show me how serious you are.”
You’re not sure why you took him up on the challenge, as you’d long known of your differences in build – how you posed as much of a threat as a bug in a mason jar...
But even a bug will try to escape still after the lid has been sealed.
“Come on~ you're not even trying~” He grossly crooned, smiling at your pitiful attempt at twisting him off with the useless help of your silly hands – how your much smaller body writhed beneath his weight and tried wriggling free.
Laughing dryly, he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cushion beneath you. Sagging over you, his breath fanned your lips.
“What was I to you, huh?” He asked in a murmur, his face blank but his eyes swirling. “Just a toy?”
You were afraid to breathe, only keeping your gaze terror-wide of what he might do – still grasping to fathom how he’d even felt possessed enough to do this much – confused as to how you’d missed the signs while having not a single clue what more he was capable of.
“Guess now you're my toy, huh...” He muttered coldly.
And you just couldn’t help the whimper that it tore from you – finally understanding exactly what position you were in.
The disorienting knowing of what was soon to happen dawned on you mercilessly – and you completely broke under the hefty weight it had. 
“Oh? You’ gonna cry now?” He scoffed before hissing. “That's cute, seeing as I’m the one who’s had his heart stepped on.”
“S-stop it, get off me-” You cried, whole body shaking where you squirmed to no use nor end.
“Not so cold-hearted now, are yah, fuckin' bitch?” Was all he had to say while leaning into where thick streams of tears rapidly ran down your cheeks in stingy streaks. “You scared?” He whispered in licks at your ear. “Gonna start begging, hm?”
You only shook – eyes squeezed tightly to a close.
“Nah…” His tone scraped, similar to how the shaven stubble on his chin scratched lightly against your neck as he started placing small kisses there despite your whines. “'Cause you want this too. I know you do.” He insisted. “You're just scared I'll break your little heart at some point.”
You’re breath hitched as his hands parted with its twin – leaving it to keep your wrists pinned by itself as the other one traveled down between your bodies to undo your zipper.
You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to – listening to him and his lovesick speech – full of so many things you feared could trigger much sicker things.
“But I promise you that no one’s heart is gonna break here.” He vowed, still with his lips pressed wetly against your throat. “Not yours or mine.”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Shinso, Kirishima
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo
HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo, Isagi
AOT – Eren
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