#i love our limits i love that there are places we're simply not meant to be

[c-kiddo]

jacob geller rly doesnt miss with these eldritch, cosmic (but right by us) horror videos huh. . . (watch it watch it watch it watch it !!!!)

#i love th fear of depths and fear of colds ones too #i already rly like deep sea creature things and hearing abt this thing so :DDD SO GOOD VIDEO #fear of depths mentions annihilation a little too so hehe >:) also is about caves a lot. i lov learning abt caves #i love the unreachable places on earth #i love our limits i love that there are places we're simply not meant to be #i love th rare attempts to go there anyways because its terrifying and humbling #i love th creatures already there #the deep sea is alive without us. the caves are alive without us. space is too. its so cool #kiddo say

[jackhues]

this time around - angel's world

NOTE: this takes place during april/2024. if you'd like to be tagged in coming works, comment on this <3 also... i think updates on this are starting again now (maybe next part in a week idk)

this is a series/interactive au, so feel free to send in any ideas/requests/thoughts you have about this! angel's world au masterlist!!

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE|| PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX - SMAU (COMING SOON)

verstappen!twin reader x mat barzal ,, f1xhockey

angel looked at the time, nervously playing with her dress.

it was almost five o'clock, which meant her dad was almost here. it'd been a few months since she began dating mathew, and besides max, no one in her family had met him.

the truth was, she was nervous.

she knew everyone would love mat, he was a great person. but her dad might not. he was a person who'd done... questionable things while raising her and her twin. and while she held no grudge against him for those things, mat wasn't his biggest fan.

angel could only hope no one caused a problem today.

"you alright?"

angel looked up at mat, a smile spreading on her face just at the sight of him.

"i'm great," she promised. "just nervous. please don't say anything about the things dad did-"

"i won't," he held her hands in his. "look, i know he wasn't a great person, and i know you're okay with the things that happened. i also know that i'm not okay with those things... but this is only the first time we're meeting. i'm not going to say anything stupid, i promise. i'll be a nice canadian boy for the night, promise."

angel smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "thank you. i know you don't like this, but it's... it's too hard explaining things to dad. he doesn't get it. so we just limit our time with him instead."

"well, it's something," mat shrugged to himself. at angel's look, he raised his hands in the air, "i'll behave. i promise."

"alright lovebirds," max entered the living room, "you ready for the biggest test of your life?"

"max," angel groaned.

"i'm joking, i'm joking," the older twin laughed. "he'll love mat, and if he doesn't, that's fine, because lewis already offered to walk you down the aisle in dad's place."

"max!" she groaned again.

"i'm just making sure everyone knows the options!" he responded.

before angel or mat could respond, the doorbell rang, casting a spell and freezing the trio in their places.

"let's hope he didn't hear that last comment," max muttered, breaking the silence. "i'll get the door."

"i'll get it," angel grabbed max's arm to hold him back.

he'd spent his entire life putting himself in their dad's view, keeping angel away from him and his anger... but they weren't little kids anymore. she could face him.

she slipped down the hallways and to the door, opening it before she could chicken out.

and there stood jos verstappen, nodding at the sight of angel. he didn't smile much, angel knew that. so the nod was his way of smiling... or at least that's what she told herself.

"hi dad," she greeted him, hugging him since she hadn't seen him in a while. "how have you been?"

"same old," her dad responded, entering her apartment and making his way to the living room. "too many races on the calendar this year, flying back and forth is hard."

angel was tempted to remind him that he didn't have to be present at every race, but she managed to keep her mouth shut.

they entered the living room together, and jos did a double take at the sight of mathew.

"this the boyfriend?" he asked simply.

"mathew barzal," mat came over to introduce himself.

jos shook his hand and introduced himself.

"here, have a seat," mathew made space for him on the couch.

max and angel exchanged a glance, slightly surprised that jos took a seat and continued the conversation.

"i never knew he was this polite," max whispered to his twin, and it took angel a second to realize he was referring to mat. "didn't he tell charles to drive his car off a cliff after he beat him at mario kart?"

"maybe it's the canadian in him," angel offered. "lance does similar things sometimes."

"it's so weird," max muttered.

"i know."

surprisingly, the rest of the night and dinner went on without a hitch, and when it was finally time for jos to leave, he even gave mat a hug. angel tensed, but mat patted his back as if the two were old friends.

"he's a good one, huh?" jos even said to angel before leaving. "i like him."

angel didn't know what to say, so she shut the dmaoor in his face.

she walked back to the living room, still trying to process her dad's words, when she noticed mat and max in deep conversation. mathew knew next to nothing about f1, and max knew next to nothing about hockey... they were from two different worlds.

and yet, they sat in angel's living room, conversing as if they'd known each other for years, as if they were friends who simply enjoyed each other's company.

and with a start, angel realized that she did indeed, choose a good one this time around.

#naqia writes! #angel's world! au #naqia's au's! #formula one racing #formula 1 #formula one x oc #formula one #formula one imagine #mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal x oc #new york islanders imagine

[tac0tesseract]

Time Split

((Edit: Tumblr keeps eating the time-split formatting so I'm putting it in as an image instead fhejrkfhjkehjk ))

“Try it on me.”

“I will not.”

“But I have to understand.” Emma grinned, holding her arms out to the side as if needing to make herself a larger target somehow mattered here. “I can't get better at this if I can't think the way that you do.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You know that's not how it works.”

“I knooooowwww, but I can at least do my best to get as close as possible. That's why we're such a good team! I do the 3D-thinking, you do the 4D, and by our powers combined…”

The smile grew. “We're invincible.”

“Yes!”

Sam sighed, though the smile remained, and he paced a little upon his projection pad. She got the sense he'd be pacing the room if he could; that he'd love nothing more than to move around so freely. It was an existence he did his best not to think about – genuinely desiring the orderly reprieve his chains brought him, while fiercely lamenting their limits. Emma wanted to do more research on how to extend his reach, but she knew that particular search history would not go unnoticed – or appreciated – on their network. Queen was giving her enough grief over Sam as it was.

“Very well,” Sam said at last. “But if I sense even a mote of discomfort, I'm returning you to normal.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course it's going to be uncomfortable. I'm a monkey! You've gotta give me time to get used to it.”

That seemed to amuse him. The flowing nebula of his hair rippled in what she'd come to know was his silent laughter. Without further ceremony, Sam extended a hand to her with his fingers pinched together. And when he opened them

It was in that instant that her own startled will kicked in, and Emma somehow snapped herself back into one piece. She sat on the floor like she'd just fallen down the stairs and stared up at him moon-eyed. His arms were still extended as if he'd meant to catch her. Sam slowly straightened. His hair went wild.

“Well that's new.”

“Have you ever used it on a person before?”

“You know how I'm going to answer that.”

Right. Never ask 'have you ever' of a Didymos.

~*~

It was a strange memory to recall in this moment, but Emma couldn't help it – not as she watched the truck-bomb split with that same telltale static that had once enveloped her. She hadn't asked Sam to do it; he'd simply deemed it necessary, knowing full well the weight of the payload it carried and how many lives depended on it. She braced for the question as to why there were two trucks now. Feren was the only other person here who wasn't spooked by NHPs; probably better to blame the time-split on the Lich and call it a day.

That sent her mind sliding elsewhere, to their earlier conversation – to the idea that she had apparently sent herself a warning from a reality where Sam wasn't there. Emma supposed that there was a timeline where Boss hadn't acquired a Didymos, either because he couldn't or didn't want to, but – surely that was a reality where either Sai got the Lich like he was supposed to, or Emma was too batshit to send herself a warning in the first place. No...the only thing that made sense was that she had somehow lost Sam in that failed timeline. And that thought...that thought made her ill.

Can't trust her...

Was the warning about Sam's killer?

“Argh. Focus...” she muttered at herself, drawing a concerned side-glance from his projection.

“Emma?”

“I'm fine. Careful with the time stuff, though. These guys aren't like our home crew, they're...kinda jumpy about it.”

“I'm not worried.”

She chuckled. “Clearly.”

He turned to her screens, as if he had the physical need to look at them. “Got the virus loaded? I'll help you deliver it. Not expecting much, but I'd still like to see whoever's in there try to keep pace with me.”

“Ooooh, I do like when you get like that, though.” Emma was suddenly glad her helmet was on, so he couldn't see how red she was.

It was a welcome distraction, though.

Over six hundred and thirty people were relying on them.

Once this started, it would be utter pandemonium.

She couldn't afford to think too much right now.

#lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancerrpg #horus lich #didymos #nhp #emma tansy #sam #my writing #just a random-ass drabble as I sit here fucking perishing from suspense #we're about to run a heist on a ssc facility to try and rescue all the hostages in there and #ahahahaha #there's no way this doesn't go sideways

[itsclydebitches]

Has it ever been mentioned if Tai and Summer we actually romantically involved? Maybe it's just me but the scene where they talk didnt feel like a married couples and more like really good friends. It would be interesting if Tai isnt actually ruby's father and him and summer decided to just co-parent ruby and yang to give them a normal family life. I just feel icky that tai ran to summer as soon as raven left.

Obviously it's entirely personal what does or does not feel "icky" to you, though it if helps, I frequently remind myself that RWBY has nonexistent timelines. Like, by the writers own admission none of this has been thought out. So if you get into the nitty-gritty and start asking questions like, "How long was Raven gone before Tai became romantically involved with Summer?" yeah, you might run into some timing snags that impact our overall view of the relationships. However, that's not because the writers wanted to engage with that kind of complicated dynamic, but simply because they throw out plot-points and ages without ever thinking through with how those two things intersect. I feel similarly regarding the "Yang raised Ruby" fanon (which is fanon and I find it frustrating that much of Volume 9's sisterly interactions, like Yang standing in front of Blake, have been squeezed through this largely unsupported lens of, "Well, Yang is basically Ruby's second mom so that's why this moment is wholesome and not a super weird animation choice) which doesn't hold up upon scrutiny, at least not without a lot of assumptions. If you start thinking about when Raven left, when Summer left, Ruby and Yang's ages, when they were both born, the adventure into the woods, them starting their training young enough to get into Signal, who was supposedly around when, what's a literal fact and what's just someone's emotional interpretation of events... any simple timeline falls apart. There are simply too many contradictions and vague claims to map out a coherent, canonical timeline. We can assume and headcanon many options, but they remain just that: assumptions and headcanons.

BUT that means there's plenty of space for your interpretation, anon. For me personally, I don't think RWBY is ever going to reveal that Tai isn't Ruby's dad and I read the not-very-romantic-y interaction between him and Summer as simply indicative of RWBY's overall approach to romance. After all, Blake and Yang have been in love for several Volumes now, but up until the big kiss all they did was hold hands. However, what RWBY puts on screen is what they've put on screen, which means it's perfectly valid to watch something that looks fairly platonic and extrapolate from there. One of the things the RWBY fandom needs to get better about is allowing the prevalence of fanon to produce outright anger over other ideas. Fans harass others for arguing that it's unlikely Yang actually raised Ruby, or theorizing that Qrow might be Ruby's dad, or writing fics where Blake and Yang are in different relationships. There's such a focus on maintaining the One True Fanon that it obliterates the very purpose of fanworks. We're meant to be transforming the canon in ways that please us and, if we're up to sharing it, pleasing an audience of like-minded folks too. Why would you want to adhere to just one standard telling? That's boring. That's just canon 2.0. You might as well watch RWBY, watch one other version of it (like Ice Queendom) and call it a day if you're not willing to allow a wide variety of creative content to exist. You don't have to engage with it, no one says it has to be your personal cup of tea, but leave fans who want to play with the fictional dolls their way alone. The internet is a big place and the block button doesn't have a limit.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Good day knights!

We are here to celebrate a 3 year anniversary of being here. Let us make the very best out of it! Though the anniversary date itself is on August 6th, we welcome you to send in your thoughts and requests as late as August 10th.

However, you know how missions sometimes take away from our ability to complete paper work, and thus the replies might take longer. Nevertheless, we promise to reply to your messages.

We present our most genuine thank you for having us here.

And! And, apologies, didn't mean to barge in like that.

But I would like to remind you that though the last option for this celebration event is one meant to appreciate your under appreciated favourites, they're more than welcomed in other submission types as well! That goes to say that you can send, for example, a headcanon ask about them too. It doesn't need to be only for the third option. However, the so-called fandom favourites submitted for the "unappreciated blorbo" option will, unfortunately, be declined since we don't wish the spotlight to be stolen from those who have had their time in the shadow.

And thank you for having us from me too!

Now! Let's move on to the options, and all regular rules apply during this event as well, as per usual.

Option #1. A oneshot.

"We work hard, and sometimes it's nice to just relax, which is why we ask you to join us for drinks! You may choose if you wish to kick back on your own, or with someone, as well as the type of beverage, the place and a little side order. It's all about treating ourselves a little bit!"

Option #2. Headcanons

"Choose 1 character and up to 3 headcanons per submission. However, there's no limit to submissions per person."

🤔 Are they intro, extro, or ambivert

🌹 Love language

🤫 Unpopular headcanon if any

👀 Interesting AU

🤭 Their silly little secret

😤 Their proudest moment

✨ Secret wish

😔 Secret shame

😆 Funny headcanon

🦄 Free option (any HC you can think of)

Option #3. Under appreciated favourite

"There isn't enough love to some, and we're here to change that with this section of the event. So let's talk about your favorites! What makes them great and interesting! And because sometimes a flaw can give rise to a great success stroy, there are also options to ask about their weaknesses. As said, this is to have a conversation about your fave! What makes them interesting and amazing? You may simply ask for my opinion or send in yours and I'll respond to it. "

🍁What is the most interesting about them?

🍂What is their strength as a person?

🌼What is their strength as a character?

🌻What is their weakness as a person?

🌿What is their weakness as a character?

☘️Thoughts about their magic?

🤝Their friendships? Any thoughts on those?

💎Free option! Ask/request about anything that comes to mind.

-Thoughtfullyrainynightmare 2023

#black clover event

[just-my-type-x]

A statement from me to u

I'm currently waiting for my food to cool down and I had the idea of putting some things into place.

I'd like to start by saying that I'm so used to dramatic shit, that nothing in the celeb world actually surprises me, nor does it affect me. When I said I'm not biased, I really meant it. The fact that I don't care about certain things a certain celeb does and my reaction is completely blank and I'm not bothered whatsoever, doesn't mean I'm biased. it simply means I don't give a shit and that that thing doesn't affect me or it's not a matter of importance for me. And because it's not a matter of importance for me, it doesn't mean I or we as a tiny group that we're on this platform should be called delusional or that we're lying to ourselves in order to feed our imaginations on something that's not real.

Secondly, fans in general should have low standards when it comes to certain celebs bc not all of them are great. I'm not saying the band fits this pattern necessarily, but there should always be room for disappointment, as I also said in the past. Therefore, the whole Brad situation can be a great example. If u met him and didn't like him, why bother go around and try to explain to people why he's shit, just ignore him and the rest. Proof or no proof, his behaviour can depend on a lot of factors, this is why I find this an irrelevant topic. Everyone says bad things, he shouldn't be held accountable for something like this just bc he's famous and almost everyone expects him to behave how they think it's appropriate for a celeb to act like. And another thing I'd like to add here is that if u've made a bad impression about himself the 1st time, u're most likely to have a biased conception about him from now on, which will look like everything he does or says is wrong.

Now, I like to think of myself as a patient person when it comes to certain subjects we approach and with people as a whole, especially if we're passionate about the same artists or topics. I don't know what that was a few days ago, if that was to test my limits or whatever, but I draw the line at being disrespectful. I want to apologize for that ask that I got which said that we should all go down together or whatever that shit said, bc none of u deserve such a statement from anybody. I should've stopped the anonymous asks right then, but I value all sorts of opinions and I am not the one to silence anybody, hence why I discuss every single topic with u guys. But to get to that extent, to which other people started sending me stuff about that ask, is disturbing.

From now on, whichever I feel like might end up like that conversation, will be deleted from my inbox. I also draw the line on that topic. I promise I'll do all my manifesting to meet Brad and give u a full-on review (😂 let's joke for a second cuz I don't like being so serious, and I'm also not making fun of that anon, I'm pretty serious also about that bc I know people don't talk just to keep themselves busy. I also leave a full-on possibility of the anon being right, wrong, being in the middle and so on).

Ending it in a light note, love u all and thank u for these years on this platform and I'm looking forward the next gossip session ♥️🌺

[lonelyvomit]

I would actually really like to know more about your world view and spirituality, I find beliefs really as long as people don't use them to be assholes

lmao let me get some key points I guess

main thing are the 3 powers that run the universe. not gods, as they're not sentient beings of any kind, they don't think nor have morale to judge people on, they're just energies - Fate, Time and Balance. I said my main teaching was "shit happens, roll with it" which is not far from the truth. the way I tend to phrase it more often is "what is meant to happen, will happen when the time is right, and the universe will always balance it out and make sure it fits in with everything else." that's why I have a star, an hourglass and a scale tattooed on my collarbone. these 3 energies work in a harmony with each other to make sure the world runs as it should and stays in balance. you cant fight them, but since they're not sentient, they also cast no judgement nor require any kind of worshipping. they don't know if you waste your time doing that or not. tho I do find it amusing that a "holy trinity" has been a thing in many religions throughout history and somehow ended up in mine too lol.

staying on the energy path, I do believe in souls, and I believe the reason we don't have scientific proof of this is because it takes a soul to detect another one. you know how you can sometimes feel someone looking at you or being there even if you didn't hear them? that's your soul feeling theirs. but since machines don't have souls, they cant find ours either. trying to get scientific evidence of souls is like trying to photograph a smell. our technology cant detect them, but it does explain why so many people believe in angels, ghosts etc. because people can. furthermore, the soul is like a cloud of cosmic energy, and it's running through us and in and out of us all the time instead of being a specific bundle of it that's just chillin inside you, and when a person dies, their current energy is freed into the world. and that specific soul will never exist again cus like. you cant pour a cup of water into the ocean and then try to scoop up the exact same water you had before u know.

which brings me to reincarnation. which is technically a thing but also not cus like. obvs the specific souls dont reincarnate, and the soul energy gets released into the world and might end up running through a new being at some point, but also we're talking about like, the entire universe/existence of everything, so the amount of cosmic energy that is ever actively inhabited by living beings at one time is like a teaspoon (or less) of water out of the pacific ocean. so a lot of it also ends up just floating out who the fuck knows where cus we humans sure as hell haven't discovered the limits of the world yet.

last but not least, what's the point of life then? simply to make things better. learn. love. understand. make others happy and let them make you happy. find your own way to make the world a better place, to turn the energy in you and around you more positive. humans are like purifiers, and what we do affects the energy around us and the world we live in, and our actions can either make the world better, or we can act all moldy and rotten and make things worse. we will never be able to purify all the energy that there is out in the world, both because there's too much of it and because bad and ignorant people do exist and do their fair share in making it all harder, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try and do as much as we can. after all, it's not that hard. just do your best to be kind. in the mushiest way I can possibly say this, it's all about love. the purpose, the secret, the journey and the destination. the point is to love.

#OVERSHARING HOURS HUH #asks

[pagesoflillyslife]

July 17/23

Today is the new moon- it's the Cancer new moon, and that's about as much as I know about that. New moons are for transformations, new thought patterns, and new ideas. Well, yesterday I was given the chance to move towards a new way of thinking after talking to one of my best friends.

You ever have someone share their opinion with you (their mindset about a certain thing) and it immediately feels wrong? You hear it and think, "Nope! That way of thinking is definitely not for me." In this case, I heard it and instantly disagreed because I knew it was a reflection of the mindset that I have been working on changing. She said, "A hot guy will never be with an ugly girl because they don't care about personality, they only care about looks."

I wanted to argue about why it was wrong and that's so sad to think that, but I stopped myself because I realized her mindset really is in a low place. [And there's nothing wrong with that! I know that people will heal in their own times, while some just aren't meant to heal in this lifetime. And that's okay!] The things that I wanted to say were along the lines of- "does that mean neither of us can be with a guy if we deem him to be hotter than us?" or "Is that what makes you go for guys that are mid at best because you have to play it safe when it comes to looks?" That last one was a bit mean, but it was because her main point was that "you will always find ugly guys with attractive girls because girls go for personality."

The thing is, I know where this way of thinking comes from [well not the exact place] because they're thoughts that I've had before. They would go something like "I really like that boy but there's no way he'd go for me because I'm not his type." It's as if at some point in our childhood we were taught that we couldn't have things because... [insert some sort of limitation here].

Boys were simply met with the same thinking as everything else. You end up with "he's so hot, BUT..." There always has to be a "BUT"! But I'm not pretty enough, But he'd never go for a girl like me, But I don't hang out with the same friend group, But I'm not thin enough, But he probably thinks my blonde skinny friend is hotter, But I'm not outgoing enough, But it wouldn't last, But, But, BUT. It's so frustrating because the only thing I wish I asked myself was "BUT why the hell not, LIlly?"

In these instances, we just love to "read their minds." We convince ourselves time and again that we know exactly what guys want. The truth is, we have no fucking clue what they want! It's just the same in reverse, his fears are not my ways of thinking and my fears don't dictate his thoughts either.

Why would the hot guy go for me if I'm not his type? Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what his type is? Actually, no one has a specific type, boys or girls. Take my main friend group for example, 4 girls, who tend to disagree on the degree of a man's "hotness" more often than we do agree. Sure there are times when we can all agree that a guy is definitely not unattractive, but for the most part, we've ended up dating guys with looks that none of us can collectively agree on. So if we can't agree on boys, isn't it safe to say that men don't always agree when it comes to looks?

This limiting belief of "I'm not good enough", has seriously been keeping us from what we truly desire. That doesn't mean there's no hope though, because there is this part of us that disagrees with that mindset. It's almost as if it's there because we're not supposed to think this way at all because it revolts and asks "Why do you think you're not good enough?"

It's with this question, well the answer to it, that you will get to see firsthand how far you've come in your own self-growth. [At least it's shown me that the work I've been doing has paid off.] Someone who isn't healed yet will answer that question with the qualities that we have convinced ourselves we lack. "Because I'm not skinny enough, I'm not worthy of someone that attractive, I don't have enough funny, I don't fit into their lifestyle, I don't work out enough, etc." The negative reasonings always seemed to be never-ending!

On the other hand, someone who is healed and sure of themselves will be able to answer with: "No you're right, I AM GOOD ENOUGH. I am worthy of anyone that I'm attracted to regardless of looks or status or whatever else. If I want someone then I can have them because I am always good enough. I don't have to change or be different, I am good enough just the way that I am."

So yes, this New Moon I would like to start a new habit of asking myself "why not?"- Because I said so, because I believe so, because I am worthy of it.

[yombleflobber-mobile-emporium]

My wife and I purchased a house, and paid it off in five years. It has been a strange experience, as she had lived in more houses than her age (somewhere around twenty to twenty-five different houses) and I had lived in one house for twenty-five years. I want to note that this new house is not a splendiferous mansion, nor are we titans of income. The house was cheap, and we're poor. Kinda.

Basically, I want to make it clear that, for lack of a better term, we were lucky.

I've been in a lot of different churches, and a running insidious thread I find in a lot of them is the line between fascination and legalism. See, I like words. I think looking up etymologies are super fun, and I made sure to rescue Use the Right Word, by S. I. Hayakawa from a slow and painful death on my parents' bookshelf. That said, I take issue with the weird way Christians often treat words.

We do not own the word "hope", for instance. I appreciate that in a theological context, our hope in Christ is sure, and not subject to the shifting ephemera of the hopes and dreams of the world. No big deal.

My issue is that you can't just stop using the word "hope" in other contexts. The phrase, "I hope it rains tomorrow." is a whimsical statement of desire, mixed with perhaps a passing knowledge of meteorological tendencies, and may or may not be met with the satisfaction of a delicious, soul-drenching downpour tomorrow. Many Christians would argue that this use of the word "hope" is inappropriate, or at least inappropriate for us to use.

I disagree. If you heard someone say, "I hope it rains tomorrow." you would understand exactly what they meant. If you hear someone say, "I hope Christ returns soon." or "I hope that one day there will be perfect justice done on earth, and sin and death are dealt with and removed from existence." I would argue you also understand what is meant. Obviously, if you are not a Christian, you might not believe that those events will take place. If you are a Christian, you have a little something called Assurance that those events will take place.

When people don't use the word "hope" outside of a religious context, I find their communication suffers. It sounds like they are trying to squirrel around a word that seems fairly innocuous. It isn't even per se difficult to understand what people are trying to say, but it seems like they use an abundance of words to say it. My impression of it is that people are afraid to use certain words, elevating them to a status they do not deserve, and seeking to assign meaning that, while there, should not be exclusive.

I feel the same way about the word "love". I have had my feelings completely devalued by many speakers who insist that "love is a verb" and those butterflies in your stomach are going to go away — never to be seen again.

Look.

You should always understand that love is something that needs to be proven somehow. If you say you love someone, but are engaging in unloving acts, you are simply lying to them. You should also be careful about saying you love someone if you are not willing, ready, and able to commit, and if they are not also willing, ready, and able to do so.

That said, if you feel all squirmy about someone, that is totally fine. Don't get obsessed, but, like, that's pretty cool.

Sometimes you have to work things out, and other people telling you you're a fool when you already think you might be is...not endearing.

All this to talk about the word "Lucky".

I don't believe in luck. I believe in providence, and I believe that is not a bad stand-in, definition-wise, for saying something is "lucky". That said, I feel like, as a guy who struggles with assurance, married to a gal who also struggles with assurance, the word "lucky" is sometimes better to use.

We got our house through providence. God saw fit to provide us with a set of circumstances by which we were able, with limited income and the changing tides of different employments, to afford a house that was not particularly expensive.

Was it difficult? Yes. We have had to knock out all the walls, put in insulation, and wire the electrical for the whole thing, while working full-time and doing school. We would have done that earlier (we're not done yet) except we both struggle with depression, lack of motivation, lack of training, and difficulty asking for help. We have to get it done this summer because we're pregnant with twins, and we need a functioning kitchen, and a bedroom.

We are not remarkably good with money. Yes, I have been indoctrinated with Dave Ramsey's Money Management Platitudes, but I would not recommend that to you. Sometimes you have to take on debt, and that is absolutely not a moral failing. Dave Ramsey makes me stressed, and unable to move forward with a lot of things. Do what works for you.

And that is why I hesitate to attribute our relative success to "providence" off the bat. We are not particularly virtuous, we aren't financially competent (often), and our set of circumstances is unique.

"Providence" comes with a certain baggage I am sure not everyone has, but may recognize. "Providence" suggests that we did something to earn what was given. Perhaps we prayed hard enough (not really), or helped the poor a lot (eh), or go to church regularly (trying, but nope), or in some other way deserve the situation we are in.

I'm a Calvinist. It is my understanding that nothing we do influences what God has set out for us. The sovereignty of God precludes luck and chance. All that we receive is out of God's benevolent providence.

That said, we were lucky to get our trash pit of a house. It's coming along pretty well, but dang the summer is going fast, and it hasn't even really started yet.

#S. I. Hayakawa #words #what are your thoughts on semantics? #I realize I don't really express my desires for the future much; I wonder why #80s #kokomo #our church is a bunch of level-headed folks

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa headcanons #haikyuu writings #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsurou #oikawa tooru #haikyuu imagines #post break-up heartaches

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part II

Part I (complete)

Part III (complete)

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

Making deals with a vampire was one thing, (Y/N) supposed, but fulfilling such a deal was quite another.

When Zeke— who held the contradictory position of the regional Commander of the Hunters as well as the alpha of a local werewolf pack— had approached her with the idea of infiltrating Eren Jaeger's inner circle, she had jumped at the chance; her great-to-however-many-degrees grandfather really had been Jean Kirschtein, and she had read his old journal, and her curiosity about the Old Ways was always bubbling just beneath her skin. Zeke, she thought, must have known of her curiosity, because his offer had been everything she was searching for.

You'll have your answers, he told her, And we'll have ours. One way or another, the problem of Eren Jaeger will be solved through your efforts. There is no possible way to lose.

If only she had known how wrong Zeke had been.

At first, things with Eren were simple— well, as simple as things could be with such a delicate arrangement. It had been beyond easy to bait him into approaching her at the Creature bar on 76th Street, and aside from the first time, allowing time for Eren to feed was almost nothing. Even the process of feeding itself wasn't much of an ordeal— there was hardly any pain since he drew from her wrist after a warm soak, and the whole thing took less than five minutes— but around the second time, when the visions began, things began to be… different.

Little snippets of Eren's past began to come as the two of them interacted more and increased the amount of regular feedings. Sometimes it was as little as a feeling, a memory of a face that (Y/N) had never seen before; other times, it was like (Y/N) was truly there centuries ago, in a land that would one day become her home. Now, almost every time she let Eren drink from her, she was thrust back into a world where humanity was (literally) with it's back against the wall, fighting demons and mindless monsters just to survive; and, sometimes, the visions were so intense that she would come back from them terrified, shaking, and incapable of cogent thought. It was during those times that Eren held her, silent, resigned, and yet somehow caring until she was herself again.

It was strange; in the visions, Eren was often passionate to a fault. He was wild, like an animal, but kind, too. During times like these, when he cradled her in his arms as she was trembling with the force of a particularly poignant memory, (Y/N) wondered if the centuries had truly changed him, or if he hid that passion beneath the jaded indifference she had come to expect.

"You think too much," he told her as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Your heart is racing."

Of course it was— the terror of watching hundreds of people be consumed by the very wrath of hell itself would do that to a person— but (Y/N) had no rebuttal. She did think too much, and the end result was muddled reports sent back to Zeke and a clouded heart.

"You loved her."

It was a statement, not a question. Mikasa— the brave, beautiful woman that Jean Kirschtein had once loved— may not have always known it, but Eren truly had felt very deeply for her.

"More than life," Eren replied.

(Y/N) thought back to the memory— the sheer panic Eren had felt at the thought of losing his comrades, the desperation with which he strove to save them— and she amended her statement.

"You loved them all."

Eren hummed.

"More than the wide, wide world."

And (Y/N) thought that, perhaps, he truly meant it.

"What did you see this time?" he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) pulled back so that she and Eren were face to face, her legs straddling him. His eyes were glowing-green, and she shivered beneath their scrutiny.

"I saw a field full of demons," she told him, unable to meet his gaze. "You and Mikasa were defenseless, yourself having been pushed to your limit, and Mikasa's blades having been broken. There was nowhere to run, and you— you screamed, and—"

A large, warm hand caressed her cheek, and it occurred to (Y/N) that it was her own blood within Eren that gave him such warmth with which to comfort. She placed her smaller hand atop his, and the world seemed to freeze for a moment to allow this brief, intimate interlude.

"Do you understand now?" he asked as he did almost every time she had a vision. "Do you see why I did what I did?"

As always, (Y/N) shook her head, moving his hand from her face.

"No, I don't."

The response was never met with anger or frustration; Eren was only ever resigned to it. Before, (Y/N) might have felt scorn for such a man who cared so little, but now that she had seen who Eren had been, what he'd been through… perhaps he was simply tired of caring so much.

"You're beautiful when you're thinking."

The words caught (Y/N) off guard. She had known that Eren had thought she was attractive— his emotional feedback told her that much— but she had never thought that he would voice such a thought. The compliment heated her cheeks, and (Y/N) had to fight the urge to bury her face in her hands.

"I've always thought," said Eren, speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully, "That one can never truly appreciate the beauty of a blush until one could see it with the eyes of a vampire, or smell it as it rises on the cheek."

Eren placed a hand on her face, tilting it until their eyes were level.

"And as a vampire who has seen many beautiful blushes on many beautiful women, yours is the most bewitching of all."

(Y/N) swallowed thickly.

"Why are you saying this?"

Eren cocked his head to the side, studying her. It was a long moment before he spoke, but when he did, he gave an answer that (Y/N) was not expecting.

"Because it's true, and because I would very much like to kiss you."

(Y/N)'s heart leapt into her throat, but she didn't dare move one way or the other. She just stared at Eren, slack-jawed, as he stared patiently back.

"Why?" she asked when she had collected herself.

Eren shrugged. "Does that matter?"

(Y/N) supposed very much that it did matter, but she didn't feel the need to say so. She studied Eren closely— the latent hunger in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the stain of her blood on his lips— and she thought of how gentle he had been with her, how patient. She had no doubt that he would prove to be equally so in other matters, and she wanted him— but something stopped her.

It would be wrong of me to allow this, she thought, letting her eyes wander to Eren's lips. I'm his enemy, a spy for the Hunters. Allowing him and myself the potential of intimacy is too deep a betrayal, even for me.

Even so, she didn't stop him as he shifted her closer; even so, when his lips brushed hers, she kissed him back, tasting her own blood on his tongue.

"This is a bad idea," she whispered against his lips, shifting in his lap.

"How young you are," he said in return. "There is no such thing as a bad idea, only poor timing and execution. Take it from someone who has centuries of experience; rarely ever is the regret for having done something greater than the regret of not having done it."

So saying, he kissed her again, and (Y/N) threaded her hands in his hair as he reached beneath her shirt. His hands— warm, now, with the heat of her own blood— reached beneath the cup of her bra to cradle her breasts, and she exhaled a hiss as his fingertips found her nipples. She arched into him, pressing her flesh into his hands and parting their lips; he chuckled, dark and low, and she shivered at the sound.

"How many other Creatures have you tricked like this?" he asked, pressing kisses against her neck. "Tell me, pretty girl— just how many have fallen prey to your charms so that you can run back to your little doggy master with their deepest, darkest secrets?"

(Y/N) froze, stuck somewhere between fear, dread, and ecstasy. Eren knew— somehow, he knew— and yet he continued to touch her, kiss her, caress her as though nothing were amiss. Her whole body went still with shock, but Eren never stopped even for a moment.

"Come now, you can't think I didn't know." His lips were just below her ear now, and he closed his teeth around the lobe, teasing her with the sensation. "I can smell him on the papers in your bag; I can hear the clicking of the letters as you type your memos after I've pieced you back together for an evening. Most of all, I can hear the way your heart pumps a little faster when I feed you the information you want. I can taste your guilt in the very blood I take from you. You can hide nothing from me."

"Eren," she said as fear— rancid and terrible— began crawling up the back of her throat, "Eren, please, I haven't told him about the important things, I'm trying to make a case for you—"

He pulled away then, and when his piercing green eyes locked with her own, she stilled like a sparrow caught in the gaze of a cobra.

"I don't care," he replied simply. "You are what you are, and at your core, you cannot change that. It is the same with me. I'm not afraid of my half-mutt half-brother no matter what you tell him, and as long as you want what I have to offer, there's no reason not to take it for your own."

(Y/N)'s mind was reeling.

"Half-brother?"

Eren chuckled at her confusion.

"Oh yes, pretty one. Zeke Jaeger is my older brother, and I suspect he sent you to me just to you with the both of us." With a carnivorous grin, he added, "But little does he know that I play for keeps, and you're not the good little Huntress he must assume you are— that is to say, he must have no clue at all how hungry you are for vampire cock, hm?"

(Y/N) would be lying if she hadn't pictured Eren in… less than appropriate situations, but for fuck's sake, she wasnt blind. The man— vampire, Creature, whatever— was fucking gorgeous, and he damn well knew it, but that didn't mean she was gagging for it.

Did it?

"We can't do this," she said, pushing at Eren's chest, though he didn't budge an inch. "We shouldn't do this."

Eren cracked a grin, toothy with fangs that glistened.

"Says who?" he asked, his large, strong hands coming around to grab her by the ass. "You were perfectly fine with letting me kiss and touch when you thought I was in the dark— is it no longer any fun now that you don't feel like you're taking advantage of me?"

(Y/N) couldn't take it.

"Eren, be serious—"

"I am serious."

When she looked in his eyes and reached out with her own heart, (Y/N) knew that he was telling the truth. He wanted her regardless of anything, regardless of everything.

He simply wanted her.

Could that be so bad?

***

Eren didn't think that this would happen even in his wildest dreams, but when he saw (Y/N) splayed out on his gold silk sheets, he knew it wasn't the madness that Armin accused him of lying to himself about. No mind, well and whole or not, could ever conjure up such a vision. The woman who lay before him— naked and gorgeous— was beyond imagining. She was something from another world entirely.

"What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled as Eren stood over her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. "Come hold me."

And how lovely was that? His natural enemy, his perfect prey, asking him to come hold her, as though his skin on hers was blessed assurance that he was there and wanting.

Maybe Eren was mad— or, perhaps he was dreaming. If he was, he hoped he never came back to himself. A world without this was not a world he ever wanted to return to.

"Yes," she hissed as he crawled atop her, his mouth suckling at her breast. No other creature that walked the earth could ever taste as sweet as her— having tasted many, many before, Eren would know— but even were that to be disproved, Eren wasn't sure he would much care. This woman would be his undoing.

"Touch me," she demanded, canting her hips up to him. "I want to feel you."

How could Eren ever deny her? He brought a hand down to her sex, caressing her there before parting her folds to quest for her clit. Having found it, he drew small, teasing circles, and she whined.

"Am I still a monster to you?" he asked into the hollow of her throat, placing biting kisses there as his hand kept busy with its work. "Still something to hate and abhor?"

"You're still a monster," she replied, so startlingly honest even now, "But I never once hated you. Oh Eren, please, I want you inside me, I—"

Her wish was his command; Eren plunged two fingers into her depths, and (Y/N) gasped at the intrusion. She was so wet already, and so tempting as she squeezed down on those fingers, rocking her hips as he withdrew them just to the tip and repeated the motion. The way she felt around his digits shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did, but as Eren slid in a third finger, he had to keep himself from letting out a groan.

"You're so beautiful," he told her as she writhed beneath him. "You truly, truly are."

Distantly, Eren wondered what Jean would think if he were alive to know who was finger-fucking his great-granddaughter, but when Eren remembered the nasty right hooks the taller man used to give him when he was being a shit, he figured that he would rather not know. Still, as he watched (Y/N) come undone on the tip of his fingers, he couldn't help but think that perhaps it was something of Jean's spirit— the part that even Eren had to admit was better, kinder, more human than most— that drew him to her.

"I want you," he said, withdrawing his hands and licking his fingers clean of her juices. "Do you feel ready enough?"

And then, as though to prove his point, (Y/N) sat straight up with the cutest little Jean-like scowl he had ever seen and pushed at his chest with no small amount of force. He went with the motion, and he found himself being mounted by her as she said,

"I'm not made of glass— if you can't wrap your head around that, I'll have to show you just what I'm capable of."

She did— and how! Powerful thighs— the thighs of a Hunter— levered her up and down on his cock, squeezing him until he thought he might die from it. He thought she was never going to stop impaling herself again and again, and by the time she did eventually tire, Eren was sort of hoping she never would. He was in ecstasy with her, and like the selfish bastard he was, he wanted it to last forever.

"Such fire," he said, reaching up to press kisses into the skin just between her breasts. "You've made your point, now let me take over."

Let me take care of you.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted as he thrust up into her, the head of his cock buried so deeply within her that he marveled at how she didn't seem to be feeling any discomfort. "Oh fuck, right there, please don't stop—"

Eren didn't stop; he couldn't. He was beyond restraint.

"May I?" He asked, tapping the wrist that was trapped in his right hand. "I won't take much, but I want to show you something."

Delirious, drunk with lust, (Y/N) nodded, and Eren pierced her skin with a single fang, letting a drop of blood fall onto his tongue. In that moment, as they connected physically, her blood connected them spiritually, and Eren groaned as he physically felt how close she was through the link he had created.

It wouldn't be long now.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried, and Eren buried himself as deeply as he could within her as he came. "Oh, oh, oh—"

And then (Y/N) was following him, shaking and gasping as her orgasm overtook her. It seemed that the world had stopped existing for a moment, and Eren found it hard to breathe even though he had no particular need to do so at all.

In the afterglow, they clung to each other like the survivors of a shipwreck; when the world began to exist again, it felt new, and as Eren closed his eyes to sleep, he knew that this changed everything.

I must keep her, he thought as sleep overtook him. I don't know if I could feel like this ever again for anyone else.

#aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #eren x reader #vampire!eren jaeger #aot smut

[baezdylan]

Scrapbooks of flowers

The fourth photograph: scrapbook of begonias

"We're all just learning how to smile."

- Learn to smile, INXS

People remember each other's faces for a reason. She could declare how her name was Nova Sparks under a million different circumstances and it would never matter as much as a single smile or a handshake does.

When her brother smiles, Nova feels the most at home. And Revelius smiles. He smiles like each breath holds an entire world.

Something that gets talked about a lot are the graduations. The valedictorian speeches. The breakups, the reunions. The births, the deaths. You know, the big moments. Nova doesn't seem to remember those (even though she desperately wants to). She remembers the little ones. The quick shining glimmers of passing hopes.

Nova dreams of captivating city lights and rooms filled with people who don't do anything but glow. Her hands are peppered with moonlight kisses as she rests them against the window frame of her room. The city seems so much brighter if you don't want anything from it in return.

She finds herself thinking about all those days that were brilliantly usual and how she never stopped to notice them. Something about that doesn't sit right with her, but she can't pinpoint the exact cause of her uneasiness. She never stops. That's what she does and that's how she is. She's Nova Sparks. Nova Sparks whose nails are unevenly cut and whose cheeks are always a bit rosy and whose eyes are emerged from burning passion and twinkling flames. She's not the one for waiting.

The sky is a nice shade of blue when Lyerr asks her to wait. Lyerr is a nobody, they barely interact apart from these Saturday nights in which they meet to discuss plant names and rank indie records.  Lyerr is not a family member nor a friend. He's only there so that he could point out that she is in the wrong and that he is in the right. She's there for the same thing, just put it in reverse. That's why, when he tells her to "wait up", she doesn't give it much thought.

The town thinks that Revelius and Dorothy, her brother's person, are dating. Nova understands where they are coming from. For instance, they hug in public places. They embrace one another so tightly that Nova wonders how could they still recognize air. She asks her older brother about the rumours and all he says in return is: "love never repeats itself". She isn't sure what exactly does he mean by it, but the line never leaves her head.

Nova fills her bedroom with maps, calendars and compasses. She buys a hundred colourful posters that she never hangs anywhere. She wishes to travel. Travelling means moving, hunting for happiness. She just wants to go somewhere.

When they were little, Revelius and Nova used to climb trees. Their hands always ended up embellished with scars. She often cried because of that. The adventures were wonderful, but why did you have to get hurt while experiencing them? 

That's when Revelius first starts drawing flowers on her hands. The next time it happens, he asks her if he could do it again. She lets him. Never does he ask her again. 

"What's that on your hands?" Lyerr wonders during one of their debates. She looks up at him and doesn't immediately process what he's referring to. Her hands always look like this. It takes her a few whole lifetime resembling minutes to process the statement. It's not before he lifts her hand from the table that she does. "Those are flowers, my brother paints them". He looks at her. She looks at him. This is when he is supposed to drop her hand. "It's like you have your own personal garden right there on your hands." It's not before he says it that it hits her just how much Lyerr actually talks about plants.

It's late when she overhears the conversation. She was just going to the bathroom and she didn't even know that Dorothy was there. "How do I make the clocks stop?" Nova expects to hear Revelius respond to that but she never does. She doesn't want to think about what Dorothy said. She doesn't. She shouldn't have heard that. What Dorothy said wasn't meant for her to hear. But she does think about it. She thinks about it and she wonders what is it that Dorothy wanted to say. Because for Nova, the clocks never go anywhere. They cannot stop because they were never moving to begin with.

***

"Do you always spend your time here? I mean, do you ever hang out with anybody else?"

"And you consider this hanging out?"

Lyerr isn't teasing her. He's just being his blunt annoying self.

"Well it is going out, we meet up here each and every Saturday and we talk about a whole bunch of stuff which both of us accidentally happen to like. We are hanging out."

"Oh, I just never looked at it like that."

"Now, answer my question."

"No, I don't hang out with anybody else."

The truth is, she expected him to say that. It's not the words that are intriguing her. It's the way that he says them. He's not embarrassed. His cheeks aren't reddening. His eyes aren't trying to get away from her. He's simply stating a fact.

"Don't you need people?"

"People can't make you feel whole. You do that yourself."

 

He says that, adjust the pencil behind his ear a little, frowns at her (because he's Lyerr) and they go back to the topic that they were discussing before.

All Saturdays are the same, she concludes.

***

Dorothy is leaving for college. And yes, she knows that it's none of her business. Dorothy is her brother's friend. But everything that happens to Revelius also happens to her in a way too. And no, this is not something that she hides and "could never admit to anyone". Revelius is her brother, but more importantly, he is her friend. She loves him with her whole heart and she is willing to admit that to anyone.

So, Dorothy is leaving for college. Nova wakes up with an unsettling feeling in her stomach. She spends the entire morning pacing around the living room rearranging stuff that most certainly don't need to be rearranged and folding and unfolding the same blue sweatshirt over and over again.

She's sitting on the floor when he walks in, coffee in hand. Mum and dad are still at work. Revelius takes a few steps forward, stops for a second, turns his head around as though in search for something and then he sees her. He pulls off a smile (because smiling is what he does) and lies down on the carpet beside her.

"The world looked beautiful today."

She isn't sure if it's her place to say anything in return to that and therefore, she doesn't.

***

It lasts for exactly three minutes. Not a tiny bit less. Not a tiny bit more. In conclusion, it barely reaches the limited timeline of a single shoulder brush.

She stumbled. She was walking home and she stumbled over something and now she is on the ground, checking for bruises. She wouldn't have looked up. She wouldn't have, but the sound is so beautiful that she basically has to look up. There is a girl sitting on the ground, cross legged, singing and holding a guitar. There's a purple ribbon wrapped around the girl's wrist, her hair is all messed up and her clothes seem old. And she's smiling. It's like her words are chuckling as she sings.

It's not about the specific event as much as it is about the discovery that the event in itself is specific.

***

"But people don't appreciate them enough!"

"Just to be clear, you are trying to convince me that dandelions deserve more love from people? What kind of conversation is this exactly?"

"Nova, the dandelions need our love and devotion, those flowers offer so much to us and we never offer anything in return! Now that, that is not what a decent human being does!"

"You're gonna need to elaborate on that, Lyerr."

"Oh, you bet I'm going to do that."

He does proceed with his intentions and makes some rather interesting points (Taraxacum, Nova. T a r a x a c u m, doesn't it simply roll off your tongue? The way that the word dandelion sounds like in latin is a reason enough to love it!). She chuckles despite herself and Lyerr chuckles despite himself too. His face is red from all that passion and she is busy writing down the information that he is sharing with her because they need to remember these debates, they are practically world heritage (Lyerr's words, not hers).

This is happening every single Saturday.

It's happening every single Saturday and it's still not dull.

All Saturdays are the same.

"You remind me of parts of myself I will never have a chance to meet."

- Mariah Gordon Dyke

#editing and writing notes later #had to post it right now #was too excited not to do it #scrapbooks of flowers #my storybook #original stories #original characters #my writing #books #coming of age #flowers #flower meanings #art #quotes

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hi everyone. Fraxus Week is at an end, and I really enjoyed writing everything this year. The AU's were a lot of fun and canon writing it always enjoyable, I hope you liked what I've written, and make sure to look at @fuckyeahfraxus to see everyone else has made.

Links: Chapter One ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter Two

Laxus was many things, but patient wasn't one of them. Honestly, it was miraculous he'd lasted a week before it had come to this.

He stormed into the apartment building that Freed lived in, walked to the address Makarov had given him, and slammed his hand against it three times; loudly. He was bouncing from foot to foot slightly, hearing the shifting of movements from behind the door as Freed walked towards it. He was taking his time, and Laxus felt the urge to slam his hand on the door again a few times to make him hurry the hell up.

For a week, Laxus had wanted to do this. He'd stopped himself for seven long, long days, but it was getting too much. Laxus couldn't go to sleep another night knowing that Freed was living twenty minutes away. That if the rune mage stopped with this shit, they could be repeating that kiss.

That fucking kiss!

He'd never been kissed like that. He doubted that anyone had been kissed like that. It had been so… so… The words couldn't come to Lauxs. It was all encompassing. Overwhelming. It was like standing in the centre of a thunder storm, letting the lightning burn across his skin and explode in his throat as he consumed it. Freed had been against him, attached to him, but battling him in a way Laxus couldn't understand.

Realistically, he knew it was for the mission, but he couldn't help but think there was more to the kiss. He'd caught a few of Freed's glances at his body – how Freed hadn't noticed Laxus doing the same thing was miraculous – and the reactions throughout the day seemed to suggest Freed had been just as affected as Laxus had.

But then the rune mage had just shut off. Any semblance of relaxation was gone the moment they pulled apart, and all Freed seemed capable of thinking of and speaking about was their mission. He spent the next hour avoiding Laxus, stating that they'd spent enough time together for plausibility and that it would be better to spread out. Laxus had agreed because he wasn't going to push things if Freed wanted to focus on his work then he could understand it, but for the rest of the afternoon he'd found his gaze drifting to him whenever his mind wandered. The press of the man's lips against his was like a haunting: inescapable and unforgettable. Laxus had wanted to storm over to the man, kiss him properly and say 'to hell' with the mission.

He'd never felt like this before. It was exhilarating.

But when the mission had ended, and Freed fell back on his habit of taking missions and spending no time in the guildhall, Laxus realised that Freed was avoiding him. Laxus was damn insulted by that.

Freed was into him, Laxus knew that, and he hoped that the passion with which he'd kissed Freed and the many times he'd lost focus because he was checking Freed out was enough for Freed to know the attraction was reciprocated. Freed didn't, for a second, seem to be a coward. Not about fighting and not about his own feelings, so why the hell was he avoiding Laxus? It took Laxus a full week of thinking over the situation for him to realise what was actually happening.

Laxus was an old hand at wizardry, and knew how to have a life outside of work. Freed didn't. Hell: when Laxus had reported the mission's success to Makarov, he'd asked the old man why he'd chosen Freed to spy on him, and he'd been told Freed needed to balance his work and life better, and Laxus was meant to help him.

So, as he stood at Freed's door, Laxus was going to do that.

The door opened, and Freed was revealed. He was wearing nothing but his white shirt, unbuttoned and sightly ruffled, and the trousers he'd worn during work. For a moment, Laxus allowed himself to relish in the sight off the man in a rumpled and domestic state, with his hair tied up high and his eyes still sleep worn because of the early morning. He shook his focus and met Freed's eyes.

"Laxus," Freed said with a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Bored of this whole avoiding me shit," Laxus grunted, placing a hand on the wall to lean against it. "Pack a bag, we're going on a mission for the weekend."

"Excuse me?" Freed said, almost laughing. Laxus understood that – coming to the man's house unannounced and demanding his presence for a weekend was pretty arrogant – but he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. "What makes you think I'll do that simply because you tell me?"

"Because I haven't finished the paper work from that spa mission, and since I was meant to teach ya how to be a mage during the mission and it's not over, I have authority over you," Laxus grinned, knowing that Freed was not going to take that level of bullshit. He smirked when Freed went to argue back, and cut in before he could. "Besides, if you don't come with me, I won't be going on any missions with you, and all that S-Class money goes away. Wouldn't want that, huh?"

It was a dick move, but a means to an end. Freed glared at him, and that was all the agreement Laxus needed.

"Train station at nine AM," He informed Freed, turning, and walking down the hall. He spoke without looking back. "See ya there."

---

The train juddered to a stop, and Laxus felt his stomach settle almost instantly. He closes his eyes, swallowed down the small rising of bile that crept up his throat, and ignored the amused expression that Freed was looking at him with.

"Feeling a little sick, Laxus?" He taunted gently, and Laxus faux glared.

"Peachy," He grumbled.

Any lingering annoyance from earlier in the morning had gone when Freed had reached the train station. Laxus had brought him a coffee, bagel, and pastry as a peace offering. He'd been forceful about getting Freed to leave with him - he felt like it was necessary to kick Freed into action - but he couldn't have Freed pissed at him. If Laxus was right, and played his cards well, he might end up with Freed before the weekend was over. He wanted to do it properly.

"You look it," Freed taunted, taking his bag from the overhead rack and handing Laxus his rucksack. "May I know what the mission is now?"

"Not yet," Laxus dismissed the request.

They climbed off the train, and Laxus was thankful to be on solid ground again. The town they'd arrived in was a small one, tucked away high in the mountains; something that had not helped Laxus' motion sickness. He'd looked the town up on one of the guild's many maps before leaving, so knew exactly where to go and started following the roads without hesitation. Freed kept in step with him, clearly waiting for Laxus to offer some explanation.

He wouldn't get it. Laxus had spoken with Makarov about Freed once the mission had finished. The main thing he'd learned was that Freed needed to sort his shit out, because he was damn near hitting his limit. He also seemed like the kind of guy to refuse help, so Laxus was going to make sure he couldn't.

Once they got to the hotel, Laxus would confess. Until then, they were on a 'mission'.

"Could you at least tell me the type of mission?" Freed pushed the matter because the smartass needed to know everything. It was kinda funny seeing him getting pissy about it. "Eradication, interrogation, reconnaissance or escort?"

"You actually use those terms?" Laxus quirked an eyebrow as he chuckled, and subsequently walked into a wall of runes. He stumbled back, and rubbed his nose as he mumbled "You quick castes that? Damn."

"Why are we here Laxus," Freed insisted

"Who trained you how to cast, because that was impressive," Laxus ignored the question, walking forward when the wall dissipated. "You're gonna be a damn powerhouse in a few years."

"Answer the-" Freed cut himself off. "What do you mean 'going to be'?"

"You think you're powerful now?" Laxus taunted.

"I know that I am," Freed narrowed his eyes for a moment, before laughing at himself. "You're rather good at distracting people, aren't you? Perhaps you're smarter than I thought you'd be."

"You thought I'd be dumb?" Laxus asked.

"Yes," Freed said unflinchingly, and Laxus barked out a laugh.

"You should spend more time with the rest of the people in the guild," He smiled. "You're as much an asshole as the rest of 'em."

"How flattering," Freed said, voice droll. "You still haven't answered my question though. Why are we here?"

Laxus could see the hotel, and decided that it would be best to not push his luck with Freed. He thought about how he'd say it, and decided that he might as well jump into it rather than pissing around and avoiding the issue. Hell, if he couldn't be honest he'd be a damn hypocrite.

"I lied about the mission," He admitted, and Freed frowned. "We're here for a weekend break."

"A what?" Freed asked as if the concept was foreign to him. Given how much he worked, it might be.

"A weekend break. The place we did the mission for has a branch out here, and as a thank you for our work they gave up some coupons that we can use here," Laxus explained, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulling out the two tickets, handing one to Freed. "You clearly need a break from the work before you get sloppy on a mission and it ends up getting you hurt, and I'm not gonna turn down a free weekend in a luxury resort."

"And why didn't you tell me this from the beginning?" Freed demanded, clearly irritated.

"Because you wouldn't have come if you didn't think you'd make any money from it," Laxus shrugged as they walked into the lobby of the reception. "Like I said this morning, until the paper work's done, I'm meant to be teachin' you how to be a mage. Biggest obstacle for that right now is you not treating yourself right. Until you do it on your own, I'm gonna force you to do it."

They were at the front desk, and Laxus was speaking with the receptionist, before Freed could get a word in. Laxus made sure to confirm that both rooms would be required, and the receptionist assured him that their cleaning staff would have them prepared as quickly as they could, telling them both that they had access to all the amenities and facilities the resort had to offer in the meantime. Laxus thanked him, signed the book to confirm his booking, and stepped back to look at Freed. Again, he spoke before Freed had the chance.

"You don't need to live mission to mission anymore," His voice was softer now. "If you don't give yourself a break, you burn out. I'm sorry I lied, I'll make it up to you somehow, but enjoy this place while you're here. You put in a lot of effort since you joined the guild, treat this as your reward."

Freed looked like he wanted to argue, but halted. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I would enjoy a break."

"I know," Laxus said bluntly, placing a hand on Freed's shoulder. "And when you're ready, we're gonna talk about what happened on the mission. Because I don't wanna forget it ever happened, or push past it, or do whatever it is you thought could happen when you were ignoring me."

"I wasn't-" Freed began, but Laxus stopped him.

"We'll talk later," He said softly, before grinning. "I'm gonna take a swim. You can come with me if you wanna ogle me again, but I think a massage would do you good. You look really tired, basically dead to the world."

Laxus was walking away with a grin before Freed could respond to the teasing, and when he came face to face with another runic wall, he simply laughed. His stomach did a little flip when he heard Freed laughing too.

---

"I'm ready to talk now," Freed said, and Laxus nodded.

It was the evening now, and the two men had spent the day in different parts of the resort. Sometimes apart, sometimes together, Laxus had underwent almost all of the treatments available, as well as spending a good few hours in the pool, sauna, and hot springs. He'd retreated to his room when the relaxation had brought on a bout of tiredness, and had been napping until Freed's knocking on the door woke him. He'd adorned a robe and answered it, feeling weirdly excited when he'd seen it was Freed.

He looked good. Obviously, he had made use of the facilities, as he looked well rested, without the stress marks that bordered his eyes, and was holding himself looser. His hair was damp and tied up high, perhaps from a recent shower, and Laxus again revelled in the sight of a domestic version of Freed Justine.

"Take a seat," Laxus said, motioning to the chair as he sat on the foot of the bed.

"Thank you," Freed said, voice relaxed and without fear. Good. "When you said we needed to talk, I assume you meant about the kiss."

"I did," Laxus agreed. "But before you start, I wanna say something. Give you a piece of advice about being a mage that it takes a lot of time for most people to get," Freed thought for a moment, but made a gesture for Laxus to continue. "When you become a mage, you give up your safety, your stability, and your time. Sometimes you don't know when you'll next be paid, and sometimes you don't know if you'll make it out of a mission alive. When you get into wizardry you have to change how you live, act fast and do what your gut's telling you. Your instincts aren't just important in the mission, they're important in your personal life too. Sometimes you just have to follow them."

"And this relates to the kiss how?"

"If you don't want to be with me, then go with that. Don't worry about offending me, or pissing me off, or me stopping the missions together, or anything. If that kiss was just for the missions, and I've misread things, then don't fuck around being polite. Rip the band aid off and tell me straight."

"And if you didn't misread things?"

Laxus grinned, leaning back slightly. "Then follow your instincts."

Freed did just that, by standing up, tipping Laxus chin upwards, and bringing him into another earth shatteringly perfect kiss. And this time, there was no doubt. The kiss was for him, and there would be many others.

---

Ten Years Later

Laxus groaned as he submerged himself into the bubbling warm water. It was late at night in the early spring, and the hot tub he submerged his body into was in beautifully warm contrast with the cold evening air around him. The feeling of half-healed injuries and tense muscles seemed to weep for the hot water, and he closed his eyes in relaxation.

He needed this. He'd needed it for weeks, and now it was finally happening.

Obviously, taking over as guild-master would lead to an adjustment in his life, and teething troubles had occurred. There were more responsibilities than he had expected, everything from paperwork to ensure the building was fixed every time one of the brats damaged it, to arguing with the local councilmembers about how the good that Fairy Tail did greatly outweighed the bad. Honestly, trying to explain that an idiotic fire mage had literally saved their lives multiple times and therefore had earned the right to blow up the occasional fountain or set fire to a random ornamental tree was not a fun task to take.

Admittedly, he didn't make life easier for himself. He insisted on taking at least one mission a week, something that almost everyone in the guild deemed to be idiotic. But he was only thirties, he was an incredibly strong mage, and couldn't simply just hang up his profession because he was in charge of the guild.

"You're back then?" Freed asked amusedly from the patio.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, opening his eyes, and smiling at his husband. "Wanna join me?"

"Sure," Freed nodded, and made work on removing his clothes.

The hot tub was something they'd brought three years prior, two years after they'd brought their marital home. After the odd inclusion of spas at the start of their relationships, they'd become reliant on their facilities after a hard mission to relax and untense their bodies. When they'd moved, the distance from their house to the nearest spa had been too long, so they'd invested in a hot tub of their own and learned how to massage one another. The latter advancement in the relationship had been a fun, fun few weeks for them both.

Laxus grinned a little as he saw Freed remove his underwear, and he raised an eyebrow at the man. Freed noticed, laughed a little and playfully kicked the man's thigh as he climbed into the tub, sitting beside him. Laxus raised his arm slightly to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"The mission went well, I assume?" Freed asked, idly playing with the surface of the water.

Laxus halted, before looking down at Freed and speaking slowly. "Was fine, no problems."

"No problems at all?" Freed probed.

"Not one."

"You are aware that you are my husband and Bickslow is one of my best friends," Freed continued playing with the water, voice equally annoyed and amused. It was a tone only Freed could manage. "And if my husband collapses in the middle of a fight due to exhaustion, my best friend is going to tell me."

"Fucking traitor," He muttered, before sighing and looking to Freed. "I'm fine. I'm back here, so no problem."

"Laxus, you passed out because you're overworking yourself," Freed chastised, placing a hand on Laxus' thigh and stroking it softly. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Laxus knew he couldn't, of course, but it wasn't that easy. "I know," He admitted, sighing. "But I just can't give up working as a mage, not yet. I always thought it'd be what I do, y'know. I thought I'd always be the guy who goes to a town, fixed their problems, burns through my magic, and that's all. And I knew that eventually it was gonna end, but, well, I've been a mage for twelve years. It went by too fucking quickly and it feels…" He thought for a moment. "Being a mage is all I have, and I don't wanna let myself slip if I ever need to fall back on it."

"I do understand that, Laxus," Freed sighed. "But as you are now, you're losing you're edge not because you've dropped the sword, but you've used it so much that it's starting to shatter."

"I get that," Laxus whispered, nodding. Freed hand clasped on his thigh and patted him. "I'll stop going on 'em, it's time. I know that."

"You don't need to stop altogether, I've no doubt your grandfather didn't when he was young," Freed smiled, resting his head on Laxus' shoulder. "Perhaps you take it down to one mission a month, maybe not always go on S-Class missions. Only allow yourself to take what you can handle with your new responsibilities, not what you were able to do ten years ago."

"You're right," Laxus nodded, pulling Freed closer and kissing him on the top of his head. "When d'you get so smart about this shit?"

"I had a good teacher," Freed chuckled.

It was almost ironic. Almost exactly ten years to the day, here they both were again. Sat together in a hot tub, side by side, one of them struggling with the responsibilities of their new life while the other tried to advise them on how to deal with it. Laxus could almost laugh at the cyclical nature of it, but was distracted when Freed's roaming hand slid up his stomach and his husband moved closer to him.

"You know," Freed began, voice a little naughty now. "If you ever need to burn off some energy, I could teach you a few techniques that have proven useful in the past."

"Oh really?" Laxus quirked a brow, hand roaming down Freed's back, stroking his spine.

"Indeed," Freed nodded. "I'm sure you'll become quite the addict though."

"I can risk that," Laxus smirked.

And when Freed shifted so he was straddling Laxus, the blonde grinned. He leant up and pulled Freed into a passionate, explosive, lightning-filled kiss. A kiss he would indulge in anytime, anyplace.

#Fraxus Week #Fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Two Shot #Chapter Two #canon divergence #Word Count: 3.5k

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 3: Trivia

Hello People!

I hope you have had an amazing week and are going to have an ever better weekend. I am so done with this week. It was really crappy and I just can't wait for the beginning of next, hoping it will be better. The only positive side is that I was able to get over my writer's block and have finished about 3 new chapters.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter of Family Matters and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 3: Trivia

She closed the blinds and made sure for the fifth time the door was locked. Her breath caught in her throat and the fear and adrenaline that had rushed through her body made even Spencer Reid nervous.

"What's going on?"

"This is bad, I didn't realize the consequences of this until it was too late. I am so sorry I got you all tangled up in this mess."

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"I-" She turned and took a peek through the blinds, ensuring there was no one around. "I did not think things through. I think it's best if you go home, that way you might be spared."

"You are seriously starting to make me nervous, please tell me what's going on, how can I help?"

"There is nothing you can do; I am basically a dead woman."

"Why? Who's after you?"

"Anna Hemingway."

"Your cousin is after you? Did she threaten you or something?"

"No, she didn't have to." She walked towards the bed and sat on the edge, still glancing every now and then, making sure the coast was clear.

After her and Spencer's victory, they had both decided to go to bed, and while the rest of her family insisted on having another dinner dedicated to the couple, they had both decided best to eat and head back to their cabin. He had finished first and decided to head back, and as soon as he was gone, the memory hit her making her mistake obvious. And the main reason she had resorted to a passive competition with the world's worst cousin was clear once again. In a hurry she had returned to their cabin, ensuring she was not being followed, and locked the door, startling the doctor.

"The last time I beat Anna at something was when I twelve. We were both auditioning for the same role in our school musical. They gave me the part." He smiled, truly excited for her accomplishment, as well as happy to learn this new fact about her. "Don't get too peppy. On opening night, at Grandma's celebration for the play, I fell down the stairs."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because, Dr. Spencer Reid, as hard as it is to believe, me falling down the stairs was not due to my immense clumsiness."

"Wait, your cousin pushed you down the stairs?!" He exclaimed, truly horrified. How are children so cute and so evil at the same time?

"More like, she set her foot for me to trip on, but you get the idea." She glanced back at the door and then at the man in front of her. "I was lucky, I didn't break anything, but I have a feeling that might not be the case the next time. I also would prefer not to drown or anything like that."

"But we're federal agents, doing something to you or me would be unwise."

"You're speaking of the girl that tripped me down the stairs and thought that stealing my boyfriend and marrying him was wise."

"I'm gonna double-check the door is locked."

After hours of attempting to stay vigilant, her body had given in and she had fallen asleep. Although Spencer knew the danger, to him it was as simple as closing his eyes. She knew they were trained to deal with a lot of sick people, but he didn't understand the limits his cousin would go to destroy those who she felt wronged by. Although her main target had always been her, she once had basically ended a girl's life by getting her banned from pretty much any respectable college or job position because this one had made fun of her prom dress. Anna Hemingway was one to be cautious with, and they had both just embarrassed her in front of the people whose attention she had snatched years ago. It was worse than she realized.

"Spencer, Spencer." She spoke as she slightly moved him. He growled and moved away from her, attempting to continue his slumber. "Spencer."

"No, let me sleep." He complained.

"Spence, get up, please." After minutes of silence, she devised a new plan. "Spencer!" she screamed, making him jump, falling off the bed and landing between the edge of this first one and the door of the closet. "Oh good, you're awake."

He didn't say a word, for what seemed like centuries, and she wondered if screaming him awake was not the best decision, especially as her next request would not be something he would be inclined to.

"Sorry for that, I just needed you to wake up."

"Is there a fire I don't know about?"

"No, I just thought we could go for a run." There it was, the look Spencer had only given the unsubs he despised the most. She had earned it, but that didn't mean she liked it. "Sorry, I just, Nicole had to leave, and since I have a target on my back and there's safety in numbers... I also didn't want to leave you here alone, and vulnerable. I just felt like, despite your muscles, I am concerned you haven't yet mastered the use of your body."

"I will have you know that by all accounts I definitely know how to use my body. Quite effectively if I do say so myself, and others."

After his words, her mind went to a thought she never imagined having. She wondered if he meant it that way or she was just losing it. "Good, then you can come with me." That sentence following her thoughts was probably not ideal.

"No thank you, you can do it by yourself." She needed to change the direction her thoughts were going; they were definitely not helpful.

"Spencer, please. I am honestly a little terrified, and you should be too."

"Well, I'm not. She isn't worse than any unidentified subject we've dealt with before."

"Oh but she is. She's the worst type of unsub you could think of, but ten times worse."

"What's the worse she could do?"

"Let's not find out."

After whining from him and pleads by her, they both made their way out of the cabin. The shorts he had avoided yesterday were now covering almost nothing as they jogged. This was not a good reminder of their earlier conversation, so she simply focused on something easier: her cousin's imminent revenge. She thought it would come in the form of her accidentally pushing her into the lake, or a repeat of her falling down the stairs. She was even worried this time Spencer would be the victim since he had been the one to embarrass her. Her thoughts were interrupted by deep breaths and a yelp.

"Are you okay?"

"We've been running for hours, how dare you ask me such a question?"

She looked at her watch, "We've been running for exactly three and a half minutes. Actually, we haven't been running, more like jogging."

"How long do you usually do this for?"

"Depends on the day, but from thirty minutes to two hours."

"You need help."

"It won't be as bad, come on."

"You can go on, I am just gonna sit here and have a heart attack real quick."

"How on earth did you pass your physical?"

"I got it waved."

"Cheater."

"If it isn't it the 'it' couple of the weekend!" Suddenly the one having a heart attack was not Spencer, but her. "I didn't know you guys ran together, that's so cute!"

"Yeah, truly the reason I love her," Spencer said, a pinch of sarcasm in his voice.

"How adorable." It's coming, she could feel it. "Anyway, I was thinking, since love seems to be in the air this weekend, why don't we celebrate it by wrapping up the family retreat with a trivia night!"

"What does trivia have to do with love?" She regretted the words as soon as they came out, as Anna looked at her like she might as well be six feet under.

"Silly, the trivia would be about your significant other, of course!"

"Well, that's just-"

"Wonderful, I know!" The blonde smiled, delighted by her idea. "The family has already been briefed and they are all on board, I have started taking in questions and designed the cards, so we'll all meet around the campfire for dinner, and then we'll have trivia night!" She smiled brightly and began to leave, stopping by to appreciate Spencer's figure and palming his behind as she left.

"Did she just-?"

"Yes, yes she did."

"I need a shower."

After both had showered and changed they made their way to grandmas house, alert as to anyone following them. Most of her family had moved on from spying on them, but she knew Anna and Uncle Ernie were not that normal.

"So, what did your grandma do?"

"No one really knows, I mean it had to be good to make her so rich, but by the time my uncle Ernie was born, the eldest, she was already rich enough to sell whatever business she had and become a full-time parent."

"What about your grandpa?"

"He died before I was born."

"Oh."

They sat at the same table he had been at the day before; the chessboard was still in place. She began messing with the pieces, creating the game that always made her win, courtesy of her grandma.

"I didn't know you played."

"I too began at a very young age. I haven't really played since grandma died; she was my game partner. The only one that treated me like I was a human being." She sat down, remembering the hours she spent here when Nicole wasn't around, and everyone pretty much ignored her. "She was the only one that ever consoled me for losing my dad. Losing her was just one more box to check."

"I am sorry for your loss." He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently, hoping to convey his sympathy.

"Yeah well, by how calm Anna looks right now I guess it won't be long before I join her, so we don't have to worry about that anymore."

He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "So, what should we expect during this trivia night?"

"To lose, that's our safest bet."

"I don't really do losing."

"And all I do is lose, so I will be your guide this time."

The family had made their way inside, their excitement overflowing the room. She couldn't help but wish she could simply run for the hills. She knew the chances of them winning were null, because a) she needed to lose and b) Spencer and her hadn't known each other, really known each other long enough to be able to answer these questions. She wondered if that was the plan all along, that Anna somehow had found out about their lie and was using this as a means to expose it.

"Okay everybody, let's get started." Said, uncle Ernie. He wore the same clothes as their first day here. "Let us start with the competition. Since we have the newlyweds as well as the new couple in the family, I think they should make the honors."

She looked at Spencer and he smiled at her, she leaned closed and whispered. "Remember, to ease the monster, we need to lose, which shouldn't be hard, we're not even a real couple, there is no way we know enough about each other, right?"

He nodded and they both moved to the sofa that was designated as their spot, her uncle who now apparently served as the show host, handed Spencer and Tyler a buzzer, explaining whichever sounded first would get to answer the question. She mentally prepared herself, hoping she could answer enough questions to not raise suspicion but not enough to win the game, what a grand world that would be.

"Ready everybody?" everyone cheered in approval and she prepared herself. "This round is for the guys, once we finish you will pass the buzzer to your partner and at the end, we will have one round where either of you can answer. Now, the first question, what is your partner's Starbucks order?"

Spencer's buzzer went off as Tyler attempted to recall the memory. "It depends on the season. During winter and for as long as she can get it, it will be a Grande Peppermint Hot Chocolate, during the summer it will be no-coffee Double chocolate chip cookie crumble Grande Frappuccino with extra whipped cream, and no straw." She looked at him completely taken aback by his answer, how specific it was, and the fact that he knew she was a seasonal drinks person.

"Yeah, that's it." She spoke.

"Point for team FBI!" Her uncle cheered. "Next question, what is your partner's favorite color?"

His buzzer went off and the doctor spoke again, "Blue."

Ten questions later the scoreboard was 8-2, Spencer's lead, and the two questions he hadn't answered were because he decided that would be enough to lose. She didn't understand how he knew these things, or the fact that she knew what her answer for him would be, but what she did know, was that she had to be really bad in order to allow Anna to take the lead back, what she wasn't sure about anymore, was whether she wanted to let her cousin win.

"Ladies, you're up." Spencer handed her the buzzer and she smiled at him. "First question, how does your partner drink his coffee."

"That's easy. He doesn't drink coffee." She said soon after her buzzer went off. "He drinks sugar with a side of coffee, no creamer. Eighty percent sugar, twenty percent coffee."

"That is so mean to say! But it's true." Spencer agreed.

"How are you a doctor and drink so much sugar?"

"Not that kind of doctor." He clarified to the man.

"I have no idea what that means! Next question, what is the thing your partner is most proud of?"

"His job. Spencer loves helping people and using his knowledge to reunite families, he's the bravest guy I know." She smiled at him and he returned the gesture.

It was no surprise Anna was not content with the results, as the end was a 23-4 in favor of Spencer and her. As soon as the game was finished she knew that she had basically carved her own grave.

"That is not fair, they are not even really dating!" Her cousin screamed, "it's all a lie!"

"What?"

"Yeah, I know your little secret, I overheard you and Nicole talking about how Spencer was not really your boyfriend and how he didn't actually have dyslexia!"

"I-" She didn't know what to say, how had she not seen her? How could she let this happen?

"First of all, I think it is very inconsiderate of you to suggest that my dyslexia is not real. I have fought so hard for such a long time to ensure my condition didn't prevent me from succeeding, going as far as getting a Ph.D. in mathematics, for someone to simply come and question my hard work." Spencer said, seemingly very upset. "Second of all, this woman right here is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I will not sit here and tolerate you calling her a liar. We are in love with each other, and you as her cousin should be happy about it. Yet you seem so upset about her finding someone, it seems to me you're jealous, but what do I know, it's not like I can understand human behavior or anything. Oh, wait." He said, he took her hand and pulled her as close to him as she could. "Just leave my girlfriend alone, you took her sloppy second and married him, so what more can you want from her?"

The room fell silent, everyone eyed Spencer and Anna, trying to grasp what had just happened. "You and I both know you're lying, you two are not a real couple, you are just trying to ruin this weekend for me."

"Really, not a real couple? Then how did we end up destroying you at trivia? You made the questions Anna, I had no idea what was on them, you did. And I am not the one wearing a wedding ring. So my question is, how do you marry someone without knowing their proudest moment, or their Starbucks order?"

"Well, how come no one has ever seen you two kiss? You can learn facts about each other but that doesn't really make you a couple."

"You want to see a kiss? Fine." She turned and pulled Spencer's lips to hers. She let herself enjoy the moment, really enjoy Spencer's kissing skills, not because she wanted to or anything, but rather because that is how she should kiss him, there was no way anyone would have any doubt about them if the kiss looked authentic. Which it did, it also might have felt a little more authentic than it should but now was no the time to dwell on that.

Spencer kissed her back, creating an atmosphere in which her cousin's word didn't matter any longer, in which the humiliation her family had put her through was nothing worth thinking of, and the fact that both of them had such deep knowledge about each other only fueled it, melting her a little in her spot, she felt his teeth on her lower lip applying slight pressure and she couldn't help but wish they were by themselves right then and there.

"We get it! You guys want to take your clothes off, now please stop." Tyler's voice echoed, and the two doctors left each other's lips reluctantly, looking at him. "Now, can we please move on?"

"No! Not until they admit they are not really dating, and all this was a plot to humiliate me!" Anna screamed.

"You know what? I am not going to stand here and tolerate this behavior any longer. Bitchy Anna, you can whine all you want, but that will not change that I am with a man I love, and that loves me. I have let this family make me feel like less for long enough and I am done doing so. You can all go fuck yourselves because I am done with each and every single one of you. You allowed this crazy brat to humiliate me and treat me like I was less for long enough. Let's go home, Spencer." She grabbed him by the hand and exited the house, giving her family the middle finger before she banged the door. She walked to their cabin and gathered her stuff, him following suit. As soon as they were in the car and far enough away, she pulled over and sighed, coming down from her adrenaline rush.

"In the wise words of Penelope Garcia, that was hot," Spencer said.

"What was?"

"Everything." They laughed for a couple of minutes, the scene she had just created replaying in her mind. "I am so proud of you."

"Why? Because I gave my uncle Ernie the middle finger?"

"Because you stood up for yourself."

"Yeah, well even if she was right, I tend to get a little too angry when people call me a liar or get in my way."

"Yeah, I know." He chuckled, "How did it go, oh yes, 'Nu-uh bruh, I know you didn't just interrupt me mid-sentence.' And then you commented how a man who wore sweaters in the middle of July was not going to cut you off."

"I am so sorry about that; I was just so used to being cut off I didn't want it to be a thing at work."

"It's okay, I understand. I began cutting people off because that's what most people did to me when I spoke."

"Well, that's dumb. I love hearing your facts, you have all this knowledge, and you chose to share it, people should be grateful for it."

"Thank you, I appreciate that." He smiled, "Speaking of facts, our chances of getting murdered will increase by the minute if we continue to sit on the side of the road."

"Right, forgot about that!" She turned the car back on. "Let's go home, Spencer." As his apartment complex became clear, she slowed down, making a stop right in front of it. "Thank you for coming with me this weekend, I really appreciate it."

"No problem, that's what friends are for." Before he moved to get out of the car, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "What was that for?"

"For being the best fake boyfriend and real friend a girl could ask for." She smiled at him, so grateful for his existence. "I will see you tomorrow morning at 5:45 am sharp. Goodnight Spencer."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow." He opened the door and walked out, waving to her before he entered his building. She sat there for a couple of minutes, taking in the past weekend. She knew her mother wouldn't let her get away with her actions, but right now that didn't matter, Spencer Reid had told her he was proud of her, he had even used the term hot which in itself was hot because she never even imagined he used that type of vocabulary.

Regardless, she stood up for herself, she let Anna have it, and Spencer was proud of her. It seemed like a win-win. She drove home, a smile on her face.

#spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #cm

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Me, at 6am, having stayed up all night writing 5k words: I never want to write again. Or at least not for a couple weeks.

Also me: OMGOSH THIS SONG WOULD BE SO GREAT FOR A PREQUEL FIC

Still me: ಠ∀ಠ

So yeah, I've been simmering this idea for a month or two now. It can be read as a standalone, but is meant as a prequel to my other fic, Blind Trust. The song is Waste It on Me by Steve Aoki ft. BTS and you should totally give it a listen!

Hurt/comfort, 1.1k words

Moving Saeran into the bunker was a deceptively difficult task. Mostly because he had limited possessions, clothes that wouldn't even fill a backpack, and, to top it all off, no bed to sleep in. So, the twins left to go shopping for necessities, leaving Vanderwood and MC to deal with the chaos of the bunker. They tackled various tasks to attempt to clean up the place as best they could, but eventually, there was only so much more that could be done without the items from the shopping trip. Naturally, then, the only thing to do was steal Saeyoung's snacks and collapse on his couch. After munching for a few minutes, Vanderwood broke the silence.

"I've got to ask. How on earth did you deal with all of the insanity—Saeran, the crazy woman, that blue-haired man, even Sev-Saeyoung—without losing your mind entirely?"

MC's face forced itself into a small smile. "Let's just say I have experience dealing with dysfunctional people."

Vanderwood hummed. "I won't ask unless you want to tell me."

She sighed. "It's not like it's not all in the past now. It's just not fun to talk about too much. Long story short, I've had one too many bad exes. One was a liar and a cheater. Another seemed nice until you realized he was a manipulative little snake—actually, that's an insult to snakes. Another expected me to just give up all my career plans to be his good little housewife. You get the idea. So yeah, I figure dealing with the dysfunctional is just a part of my life now, and I haven't dated for a while for good reason. At this point, trying to find 'love', whatever that means, is just a waste of my time."

"Well, first of all, I don't know how no decent men have seen your strength of character or your kindness despite the absolute trainwreck your circumstances seem to keep being."

MC snorted, but Vanderwood held up a finger before she could open her mouth. "Second of all, I know I'm the last person you should ask about love, but I do know this. Real love isn't like that. I hate to use Saeyoung as any sort of example, but I'm going to anyway. He may not have gotten much right, but joining the agency to keep Saeran safe was the real stuff, even if it didn't go as planned. Sacrifice just so that the other could live a better life, finding each other again under absurd circumstances, learning enough about each other to be able to come to a truce, finding ways to compromise. It may not be the same kind of love, but that's what love is, MC. Each giving all for the good of the other."

"Wow," MC finally managed to get out. "I guess it's been a while since that sort of thing even occurred to me. But it's not like it matters anyway, since I'm not likely to find anyone who's even decent to me, much less has that kind of mindset. So like I said, it's just a waste of time."

Vanderwood growled in frustration. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that you deserve good things and that those things aren't unrealistic?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Why do you think it's such a waste of your time if you know what you want and what you don't want and if it could make you happy?"

"Because I've lived over a quarter of a century and not seen it once, Vanderwood!" Her voice broke. "Not once."

He gritted his teeth. "Fine then, MC. Fine. If love is nothing more than just a waste of your time, why not waste it on me?"

His jaw dropped at the realization of the words that had just fallen from his lips. MC's eyes widened.

"Uh—I mean—"

"I don't know what to say. I've just...been single for so long that I don't even know what it feels like to have feelings for someone anymore. But I mean, you're attractive and all that. And quite honestly, you reminded me today of what love even looks like. So I think that's a good place to start."

"I...don't even know how to respond to that. I didn't even plan to ask you out today, much less expect that I'd get a positive response. I have to warn you, though, we won't be on even ground." MC groaned, but Vanderwood continued, "We won't be on even ground because you hadn't even considered dating me until today, whilst I couldn't shake my admiration for you since the moment you first opened your mouth. Believe me, I wanted to. But I couldn't ignore the grace and strength with which you handled the insanity involved in dismantling Mint Eye and the agency, one right after the other. It also didn't help that you were absolutely beautiful, either."

"Vanderwood, you know I can't promise anything serious. I'm willing to try, but you know my history. I have too many trust issues to be able to commit to anyone anytime soon."

"Well, I think that's something that I can match you pretty evenly in. I've been taught never to trust anybody. If I did, I could be a major liability to a mission. Because of this, if you'll excuse the invasion of privacy, I had Saeyoung scour your background in every way I could think of, because there was no way you were as good as you seemed. Yet, you came back clean. Absolutely normal. So while I know it's something I'm going to have to consciously work on, I'm willing to trust you as a person and trust your judgement. You can take whatever time you need, and I will put no pressure on you to commit to anything. But," he looked her in the eye, "don't think for a second that I'll treat you with any less respect and care than you deserve just because you can't promise commitment yet. Do you understand?"

MC's eyes welled up in spite of herself. "Yeah," she sniffed. "I'm. I'm just not used to this, you know? But I won't try to be flaky with you just because we're starting out with a casual relationship, either. I hope you understand where I'm coming from."

He pursed his lips. "I may not understand firsthand what you've gone through, but I've dealt with a lot of seedy men over my career, and I know what they're like. I also know that simply saying I won't be like them won't convince you, but I will do my utmost to prove it to you through my actions."

"Okay."

"Waste it on me?"

She smiled. "Yeah."

#my fic #my writing #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fic #mysme vanderwood #vanderwood x mc

[imasimpforstevengrant]

Why do we like this clown so much?

Change the "we" for "I" and you get an usual tag I use whenever I post my content in Tumblr. And it sounds funny at first but whenever you start diving into that phrase, the deeper it becomes. So, I finally have decided to share my thoughts about this strange but wholesome attraction to this deeply flawed character. It's not something I usually do since I don't know how to write down my feelings properly and also in english so please forgive any typos (I'm from Chile so don't be surprised lol).

So...Why do we like this clown so much?

Why was it that a character precisely designed to scare and to disgust the fuck out of us ended up unchaining a series of feelings that shouldn't have taken place in a beginning?

Let's take a look at the background: Joaquin Phoenix was cast as Arthur Fleck/Joker in 2018. The first image of him as the aforementioned character revealed a deeply disturbed man. We knew the plot. A man driven to insanity after a brutal history of abuse, creating concern in people if the upcoming film would inspire real life violence. Incel violence and mass shootings, more specifically.

(the image in question)

As 2019 arrives, the two trailers generated so much hype that media needed to fuel its concern about it. Since it wasn't your typical comic book film, media basically bombed our minds making us believe this film was going to be a total disaster, an excuse to cause harm to others among other nonsense, as if the film would justify everything Arthur would do in the film, eventually. As the release date is closer, the film receives thunderous applause and unanimous praise from critics. At this, fans rejoiced and expressed impatience to watch the film.

October 5th.

People left the theaters amazed, shocked and genuinely moved by the inhuman treatment Arthur received in the film. The fear media tried so desperately to infuse in us with all the incel bullshit and such turned out to awake one of the most positive, best feelings in humans:

E M P A T H Y

The word that so gloriously cleared away any dark thoughts or actions not only proves media was wrong but it turned out to ridicule it in way nobody will forget: Hundreds of people advocating for mental illness, calling out to the kindness that could change a person's bad day and questioning how politicians and rich people are indifferent to social problems proved how much as a society we have changed in comparison with the one shown in the film.

However, since we are on Tumblr, I'll get straight to the point and try to explain why the fuck does this clown has us dying out of love and compassion (and lust).

I. Background.

As nurturing as we women are for a biological matter, we see a man deprived of a good job, is on seven different medications, working like a slave to sustain his ill mother, putting aside his own health and well-being to look for her, struggling to make his dream of being a comedian despite everyone stepping on him, underpaid and treated like a freak for a disorder he did not ask to suffer, which makes it impossible to be indifferent to all the horrible ordeal that eventually will reach the limit of what he can tolerate without going insane. It is impossible to not say or think, at least, that someone (even if it's just one person) should stand for him just as it is impossible not to feel the need to throw ourselves at him to shield him from people who hurt him or simply offer him our shoulder whenever he has had a bad day, specially when he learns he was sexually assaulted by his step father.

This horrid behaviour terrifies newer generations because they get a taste of what being a social outcast was like more than thirty years ago in comparison with today, where there's more acceptance and treatment for mentally ill people like Arthur. We see in him someone who could have been saved with a proper education and emotional support instead of descending into madness as a criminal. Others simply saw themselves being treated like him at some point in their lives and couldn't help but put themselves in his shoes.

II. Personality.

TRUTH BE TOLD:

There's something called "attraction by proximity". It is the explanation to the eventual love you feel whenever someone doesn't catch your eye at first terms of physical attraction but his/her personality does attract you. This happens to be the base of this situation. His shyness, introverted nature, tenderness and innocent desire to make people laugh and put on a happy face awake some kind of tenderness we cannot resist. This combined with the gloomy background increases our understanding (but not justifying) of the bad decisions he'll eventually take during the course of the film. This traces a line of harsh, almost hurtful contrast of the violence he shows later on the film. Once again, it is not justified in any way but it is certainly understandable.

III. Appearance.

Arthur Fleck is unconventionally attractive.

This happens to be a plus for most women. He is out of the male beauty standards (no abs, not too muscly or particularly tall), which makes him even more unique. It is precisely the fact that he's not a model one of the reasons women love him. He could easily be your man next door or your colleague or the guy you always see but never dare to talk for fear to bother him Because it's about proximity. Arthur looks like your common neighbour. He's not meant to be your typical desirable male protagonist at all.

... And yet.

Jesus Christ, he's so fucking hot I can't even---

It's not about how beautiful his green eyes are, his long slender fingers, his hair or his smile only. It's the charm behind it.

Another "magnet point" is the way he dresses. I know he's impoverished and his wardrobe tend to be repetitive but it is so unpretentious, so simple that is hard to not fall for. The modesty of the shirts, ironed trousers reminds us of a mature man deeply withdrawn into himself, love starved and longing to be seen and loved by others, like a war veteran who still fights the most important war: with himself. Is someone who needs to be listened and understood.

AND OF COURSE WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE ABOUT IT?

He's also brought back the old gentleman outfit, white shirts, red/yellow vest, red suit and elegant dancing moves and the retro style of the film boosts this attractiveness.

People keep comparing him with the previous interpretation of Joker (Leto's) whose costume appealed to young women with a tattooed, gangster, mumble rapper crazy-guy wannabe which didn't connect with the audiences (young people in general). This supposedly was to match or even have a sexy, tormented and desirable villain like Marvel's Loki. We all know how that story ended but it's the link for the next point below.

IV. Transformation

This is a particularly strong point considering how much we loved to watch the process of this weak, powerless, forgotten caterpillar into a beautiful and visible butterfly that will gracefully stir its wings for everyone to see its colours.

When Arthur transitions to the Joker, it's so cathartic to see taking revenge on those who wronged him (even when we're not supposed to root for him) like seeing his shyness fading away into a vivid confidence when dancing half naked in the bathroom, or witnessing him making way to make his name known to people in Murray Franklin's Show:

Adding to this newly gained confidence, there's another turn on: the way he walks.

At the beginning, his pace is hunched and limping, displaying his submission to violence, which makes the viewer more satisfied to see his broken yet beautiful soul turning the past pain of his existence into art: he lets music guide his moves as a way to tell the world he's a new man by cutting most of the sick, evil roots that harmed him, that he's invincible, that no one can stop him. Watching this cathartic display of euphoria was the most iconic scene in the film, following his speech at the TV and the inevitable meltdown that caused Murray's death.

Going to further appreciation, even his clown make up is beautiful. Why? Simple. The combination of colours, shapes and the intimidating glare just embellishes even more the character.

The dark blue triangles in his expressive eyes makes the light green colour to highlight, specially in dark backgrounds, giving the impression he's piercing your soul whenever he stares directly at the camera. Same can be said about the red smile and emerald green hair. They boost an already intimidating look.

The cold and warm colours paint a picture of a man full of intense emotions, mirroring it in a simple yet masterful artistic way.

Another interesting point is the way Joker dresses. Usually we had almost every single live adaption of this character in purple coat, hat, etc. But this particular version is not following any comic, which gives more freedom to creativity and once again, out of the standards of what we could have expected.

Red is a colour related to passion, action, love, strength, motivation and excitement. As for yellow, it indicates freshness, happiness and enlightenment and finally, green. Green is renewal, growth and regeneration. Colours that represent a new stage in his life, a mirthful chapter at last. We finally get to see our battered, always humiliated protagonist (or hero) descending into madness, but finally free from his repressed man who held his soul captive like a bird to fly away, to never come back. An insanity that despite being his downfall, turned out to be his ticket to freedom as he walks to the light in Arkham Asylum dancing at the end.

Ladies and gentlemen: behold the film nobody asked... But the film we fucking deserved.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

❤️💚💛

#joker movie #the joker #joker film #joker 2019 #2019 joker #joker joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix #joaquin is so hot omg #dcedit #dc comics #he's so beautiful #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck #Arthur Fleck is I C O N I C #clown daddy #why do i like this clown so much? #i love this clown so much #hes baby #hes so pretty #omg hes so cute #protecc him plz #plz protecc #plz hug him #lol sorry #i had to #this movie gives me life #this man will be the death of me #i can't get enough of this dude #i can't get enough of this babe #arthur fleck x reader