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9tzuyu · 3 years

Text

the ties that bind us

note: this is just a vent, i’m not sure how much sense it’ll make. but it’s based on this post (just pretend this fic makes sense because it was really just a loose idea that got carried away.)

in other words: you’re talking to natasha without her knowing its you.

im begging you to be nice jsjddjdj this is probably cringey idk. mostly posting this for myself. i hope at least one person likes it though, idk.

i wont tag on this fic simply because its a vent :P dont wanna trigger anyone.

warnings: talks of eating disorders & depression. there’s a minor mention of self harm (brief description of scratching, nothing more).

thank u moli for proofreading i love uuuuu

. . .

natasha romanoff was one of the last avengers people would expect to have social media. everyone knew her to be an insanely private person, so the fact that she managed something so public was a stark contrast to their beliefs.

she didn’t post much, didn’t see much of a point in posting really. sometimes the spy would reply to fans, sometimes like their posts, and other times stalk their pages. that only happened once every few months though as social media was the last thing natasha worried about.

the most recent change in natasha’s life had been a new addition to the avengers.

you.

she hardly ever acknowledged your existence, let alone speak to you. for reasons unknown, natasha wasn’t too keen on getting to know you.

which, in a way, crushed your soul.

you’d looked up to the ex-assassin since before you were recruited. it was amazing to you how someone just a few years older than you could stand so strong, so put together, almost unbreakable.

since day one natasha underestimated your skillset and ability to function as part of the team. after a while, her lack of trust began to irritate you, but you managed to hold on to a sliver of hope that she’d someday let you in her little circle.

for now, as embarrassing as it was, you ran a small twitter account for the redhead. you already had a list of insecurities, it might actually kill you if anyone found out. your paranoia was what made you so protective of everything you did, touched, and left behind.

first thing in the morning you woke up dizzy, heart pounding in your throat, and your stomach hurt from being on over 40 hours of emptiness. then you’d gotten your ass chewed out by fury in front of the entire team for being reckless on a mission. everyone ignored you for a good bit of the day, too overwhelmed with disappointment towards your actions to speak to you.

lunch was an easy slip, but dinner was hard to get out of. you tried to go straight to your room but steve began to interrogate you as to why you weren’t having anything. you could feel natasha’s eyes burning in the back of your head with each question the super-soldier asked. nonetheless, you blamed your lie on a wave of nausea and made your way into your room.

after changing into baggy sweats and a t-shirt you plugged in your phone, ready to be done for the day.

you were half asleep when a blue notification lit across your phone screen.

8:06pm

natasha romanoff: i hate romcoms.

her tweet was very random, but very much natasha – punctual, straight to the point.

replies, likes, retweets and quote tweets quickly began to build upon each other in response to the statement. you fumbled, desperately trying to think of something to reply with.

8:07pm

alianovna: do you like horror movies?

of course you knew this, and you were sure people were flooding her mentions with the very same question, but it was worth a shot.

unexpectedly, natasha replied to you two minutes later.

8:09pm

natasha romanoff: love them.

your mutuals were freaking out, congratulating your notice. you’d be more excited had you not already known natasha and how she acted towards you.

but at least you could still pretend.

your fingers scrambled to type out false reactions. keyboard smashes and unreadable tweets filled your timeline. fifteen or so minutes later and a request notification appeared in your direct messages.

to your utmost surprise, it was natasha. you did a double check, switching between the profile and the message to see if it was really her. and it was. but surely she didn’t dm fans often, that’s not like the redhead at all.

8:24pm

natasha: read through some of your tweets, i’m sorry you’re having a hard time.

you’d completely forgotten about your little rant a few days prior. you didn’t have a lot of followers, so you didn’t think it mattered. just having a place to vent anonymously was more than enough.

natasha’s message had you stuck though. the very same woman who ignored your existence on a daily basis was now reaching out to you – well, a fake version of yourself.

8:25pm

alianovna: it’s alright.

five seconds later three little dots popped up on your screen, causing your eyebrows to pull together in confusion. why was she so quick to reply?

8:25pm

natasha: are you feeling any better?

alianovna: i’m as good as i can be.

8:26pm

alianovna: sorry i don’t mean to be rude, but why are you dming me? i’m sure there are so many other fans who have told you about worse situations.

natasha: call it a gut instinct.

you didn’t reply to her message after that, too unsure of what to say.

the ring of your alarm woke you up early the next morning. it was 4am and you were on a tight schedule. you reluctantly got up, body aching with every movement, and tiptoed into the kitchen.

you were up at an hour where no one else would be awake, which made preparing breakfast a lot less anxiety-ridden.

carefully, you sliced an apple and a few strawberries and placed them into a glass bowl. you were careful not to fill the dish to the top in fear of consuming too much.

unbeknownst to you, natasha watched your movements from afar, eyeing the tiny portions you made for yourself. she also noted the amount of distress you’d been in while you sat down to eat, it wasn’t normal.

the redhead had long since suspected something wrong with your relationship with food for a while now. watching your struggle only confirmed her assumption. a pang of guilt shot through her chest knowing she could’ve been a more supportive teammate. maybe that’s why she randomly decided to direct message a fan, to make up for her lack of encouragement on her behalf.

she left before you could see her.

. . .

the next few weeks were pretty routine. you’d be sent on small missions, come back to train (or in other words burn as many calories as you could), and occasionally hang out with whoever was around the compound.

oh, and natasha? you continued to anonymously text her, finding yourself growing more and more attached to the distant woman.

you’d tell her about how depressed you felt, how much you craved the touch of someone else – even if it was just a hug. when you’d tweet about something bothering you, natasha messaged you as soon as she could. and from what you could tell she hadn’t caught on.

the only thing that changed in the redhead was that she began to watch you more, increasing your discomfort around her.

today had been particularly rough for you, and you weren’t really sure why. no one scolded you for doing anything wrong thing, nor did they overload you with useless paperwork that took you hours to finish.

it was a relatively normal day.

but the frustration of dealing with your disordered thoughts seemed to be a bit higher than usual. you’d already snuck in your day's worth of exercise, and you kept your calorie intake lower than the day before – it just wasn’t enough.

not wanting to anonymously bother natasha, you went to your only other (somewhat) safety option.

10:08pm

alianovna: i wish i didn’t feel so alone.

you only had about 250 followers, so it didn’t really matter that you tweeted such a sad message because you already knew no one would reply. no one wanted to deal with it, mutual or not.

10:08pm

alianovna: the one person i thought i might be able to talk to literally hates me.

you added on to your thread.

alianovna: just having someone’s company would be enough. they wouldn’t even have to say anything. i just need someone. i can’t keep doing this on my own.

alianovna: i’m so sad, my heart hurts.

you slammed your phone against your bed, curling yourself in a ball. tear tracks were evident on your face as you began to think about everything you weren’t.

maybe if you pushed yourself a little harder.

maybe if you spoke a little louder.

maybe if you were an entirely different person – maybe then someone might like you.

your shitty coping mechanisms only reflected how you felt on the inside, not that anyone would ever find out though. you kept your guard as high as you could, which only ever resulted in complete isolation.

a ding came from your phone and you immediately knew who it was.

10:17pm

natasha: hey, what’s going on?

“oh fuck you,” you mumbled, too pissed off about the fact that you’d never really be able to talk to her.

you were angry. angry at the world. angry at natasha. angry at your team. and most importantly, angry at yourself.

10:41pm

natasha: please answer me.

seeing the urgency of her text to an anonymous fan only pushed your state of loneliness further into your mind.

and your lungs.

and your heart.

and oh my god, you couldn’t breathe.

your fingernails began clawing against your collarbones as a desperate attempt to try and ground yourself.

10:51pm

natasha: i hope you’re okay. i’m worried.

but that was just it – natasha didn’t care if you were okay, and she wasn’t actually worried about you.

10:51pm

natasha: it’s easier if you reply to me rather than have me hunt you down.

shit shit shit shit shit.

wincing at your raw, sticky skin, you looked down to find a light amount of blood on your fingernails.

“there goes peaceful showers,” you whispered. “fuck, how do i even reply? i fucking hate you, natasha.”

a lie.

you don’t think you could ever truly hate natasha. she didn’t even do anything wrong. what you hated, was how your expectations were met with resilience and insularity.

nonetheless, you shoved your emotions down once again and began to type.

11:03pm

alianovna: i’m fine. and for the sake of my own privacy don’t look for me. or track me down. or whatever you do as an avenger.

natasha: just please don’t ever do that again. i was so scared you’d done something you’d regret.

natasha: so are you ready to tell me what’s going on?

11:11pm

alianovna: doesn’t matter. goodnight natasha.

throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, you shut your phone completely off and grabbed your keys. you weren’t sure who was up, most likely tony or bruce, but they’d both be distracted by whatever their latest project was.

you were doing fine until you bumped into someone. apologies almost began to slip from your mouth until you realized it was natasha. so instead of saying sorry, you shoved past her without another word.

natasha stood speechless at your behavior. yeah, she wasn’t one to talk to you despite how nice you continued to be, but she knew it wasn’t normal for you to shove her.

then she remembered the state of your wellbeing. your eyes were red and tired underneath, a clear indicator that you’d been crying.

she tried to catch up to you, but by the time she made it out, you were already gone. seeing you so upset didn’t sit right with her at all.

waiting for you was the right thing to do, natasha knew that.

you weren’t really sure where you were going until you pulled into the back of a hotel parking lot. it felt almost impossible to feel more alone than you did right now. you slammed your head against the tip of the steering wheel, not caring whether or not a honk disrupted the silence of those around you.

one thing you were sure of was that you didn’t want to go back to the compound, not right now at least. the urge to text natasha was almost overpowering, but every time you remembered how little she regarded your presence the desire vanished instantly.

too much was already crowding your mind and thinking about natasha only made things worse. so you put your car in reverse and sped off in a hurry.

natasha began to worry more each hour that passed, not only about her friend online, but about you as well. she backtracked your behavior as much as she could.

until something clicked.

she realized just how alike you and her online fan were. it couldn’t have been a coincidence that at the very same time she’d lost contact with her distraught fan, you were upset as well. natasha also remembered how unusually protective you were over your phone, never once letting anyone else lay a finger on it.

you’d even vented to her a bit about your food troubles, but she never thought too much of it because millions of people struggled with eating disorders.

on top of that, she always thought it was a little odd that her ‘fan’ never gave away their name. her assumption was out of privacy, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

and your tweets, specifically the one about someone hating you, there was no doubt that was a jab at her.

it made sense though. it was easier for you to talk to her as long as she didn’t know it was you.

natasha felt awful. you were struggling so openly and yet no one else could see it except for her, and she didn’t say a word about it.

the clock read 2:33am when you came back. it’d been the longest three hours natasha ever had to endure.

you came back to see the redhead sitting on your bed. natasha glanced up from her phone and lunged herself in your direction. she cupped your face, worried eyes scanning over your body for any signs of injury.

“you left…”

“i’m a free person.”

you moved to take off your hoodie, trading it in for a tank top.

“what happened to your collarbones?” your harsh glare met natasha’s green eyes. “that’s none of your concern.”

she swallowed, carefully trying not to startle you. “i think we should talk.”

“and i think you should get out of my room.” you snapped, turning your phone back on after hours of being shut off.

“did you not hear me? get out.” she winced at your tone of voice. “i don’t think you really want that.”

“seriously, get-”

“i know it’s you. alianovna? it’s you isn’t it?”

“if you’re so sure, then why are you asking me?” natasha kept quiet, eyes still firmly trained on you.

you could feel the lump in your throat begin to rise; and although you tried you hide it, your lip began to quiver. “please. please leave. please natasha,” you begged, voice cracking with shame.

“no.” she paused. “that’s not what you truly want.”

“you don’t even fucking care!”

natasha closed her eyes, trying to remain calm and collected. “but i do-”

“no, you don’t. you care about a version of myself that isn’t even fucking real. you don’t care about me. and that’s fine, i’m used to it by now. but don’t come in here to try and save your ass because you have a guilty conscience.”

she crossed her arms. “i’m not leaving this room.”

“well move so i can lay down. i’m tired.”

you weren’t sure why you were pushing natasha so far away when you’d been craving her comfort for months. perhaps it was because your secret had been exposed, maybe even because you felt like it was too good to be true. either way, your emotions were involuntarily controlling your choice of words.

natasha complied, watching you adjust yourself comfortably. she bit her lip, nervous to ask for such a risky request.

“can i hold you?”

touch, warmth, security, that’s all you ever wanted. and natasha knew how much you craved the comfort of someone else. that was her ticket in to make up for all that she ignored.

“i just cursed you out and now you’re asking to hold me?” your voice gave out at the end of your question.

“having someone’s company would be enough. they wouldnt even have to say anything. i just need someone.” she finished reading your tweet, vivid from her memory. “that’s what you said, right? i wasn’t there for you then, so if you’ll let me i’d like to be here for you now.”

“just don’t hog the covers.”

natasha smiled, relieved that you accepted her offer. she draped her left arm over your body while her right arm lay beneath your neck. a moment later she clasped her hand over yours, rubbing her thumb across your knuckles.

“why didn’t you ever give me a chance?” natasha’s finger movement briefly stopped. “i don’t know. i think i just became overwhelmed by the idea of someone else living here. i got so comfortable with how things were that, i dont know- it felt too much.”

natasha unconsciously pulled you in closer and for once, you felt a little less alone. she was warm, and her hold was more than protective.

“it doesn’t make it right, i know that. but i am sorry, and im not here just cause i have a guilty conscience.”

“how did you know it was me? i never let anyone near my phone.” she giggled, not revealing the loose pieces to your mystery. “call it a gut instinct.”

natasha placed her chin in the nape of your neck, closing her eyes as she squeezed you gently.

a hug.

one you’d been wishing for since the day you met her.

“you know all my secrets.”

“i know all your secrets,” she confirmed.

“and you’re not going to leave me alone now, are you?”

“i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“which means i have to get help now, don’t i?”

“which means you have to get help now,” she repeated, holding your hand a little tighter. “but it will be okay.”

but things already felt okay around natasha.

“no. it will be better.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

Hey there! Admittedly I'm a little bit nervous since this is my first ask, but I'll try to not be too rambly.

So, recently the main subreddit, r/RWBY, made a ban on active users of the r/RWBYcritics subreddit. As a result there's been discussion around bad-faith criticism in the latter subreddit. What are your takes on bad-faith criticism?

For me personally, I think a bunch of people are misusing the term "bad-faith" and using it as a way to shut down criticism, but I'm curious to hear your thoughts on it.

Hey there, everyone! We woke up to some drama this morning, huh? And hello to you too, Tortoise! I'm so glad you decided to send in an ask, even if it's following some pretty tumultuous events...

Right, I'd like to start with a story. The story of how I personally don't spend time on Reddit, but I have plenty of friends who will occasionally cross-post something for me to see. Yesterday (or the day before? Idk time is meaningless) a friend told me about a post — which, significantly, I'm now having trouble finding — that covers RWBY's inconsistent writing and the fandom's tendency to try and explain away those missteps. They'd thought I'd be interested because I'd just had a conversation here on tumblr where I made that exact point to someone who, also significantly, vehemently disagreed with me, but in a very civil fashion. Given everything going on, I feel like this side point needs emphasis: we debated, we did so in a sometimes heated, but nevertheless respectful manner, it was clear neither of us was going to sway the other, and the conversation ended. The two "sides" of the community interacted without Armageddon coming about.

But back to the purpose of this tale. I went to take a look at this point and found that it no longer exists. There's just some vague message about it not obeying the subreddit's rules. "What happened?" I asked. "Why'd they take the post down?" "People were getting too heated in the comments," my friend replies. So, given that the comments were still visible, I proceeded to read through them, expecting personal attacks, slurs, harassment, etc. Any number of things that would justify deleting the post itself to put an end to such behavior. Instead, I found a thread of people having a conversation. Was the conversation heated at times? Sure. Did one or two individual posters edge into the realm of petulant, "No. You're wrong and stupid" responses? Yes. Was any of this remotely what I was expecting given the post's removal? NOPE.

"This isn't allowed?" I said. "Well then what is? People were being civil! Or at least as civil as hundreds of strangers ever get when discussing a series they're passionate about online."

Then, this morning, I hear that the entire critic subreddit has been banned.

So to answer your question, Tortoise, I don't actually think that "good faith" criticism exists. Meaning, it's not just that fans are misusing the term "bad faith criticism," but rather that there is no unified, agreed up method of writing criticism that will meet their standards. It's not possible and we know it's not possible because fans have been trying to meet those elusive standards for years:

A fan posts nothing but praise for RWBY until changes make them criticize the show as it is now. Their entire body of work is dismissed as the product of a "hater," despite the overwhelming gap between positive and negative reviews.

A fan posts a review that's a pretty balanced mix between praise and criticism. They're dismissed because it's still too much criticism.

A fan posts a review that's 99% praise with 1% criticism. That's still too much, with fans focusing on the single problem they had with the work and using it as an excuse to dismiss the entire review out of hand.

(As an aside, the argument that critics are "obsessed" with only saying negative things and that the only problem here is that they're "too" negative ignores the argument that... RWBY has a lot of flaws nowadays. Few are willing to acknowledge the possibility that it's not fans insisting on making things up to be mad about/ignoring the good parts of the show, it's the that show is, as of now, legitimately more of a mess than it is a praise-worthy product. If I'd been writing recaps in the Volumes 1-4 days, my work would have been skewed far more towards the positive. The critics' stance is that RWBY has gotten worse, which yes, results a higher volume of critical posts. To say nothing of how criticism takes far longer to explain, likewise resulting in posts focused primarily on that side of the divide. I really enjoyed the image of a crying Jaune reflected in his sword. I did not enjoy that moment's context. Saying that you liked an animation choice is a one sentence thing. Explaining the complexities of Jaune securing emotional moments, the problems with Penny's second death, the hurt many fans experienced watching an assisted suicide, etc. takes a whooole lot longer. Hence, you get massive, multiple posts about these nuanced topics and fewer, smaller posts about the details that are working well.)

A fan talks about a topic that has been metaphorically banned by the fandom as a whole. They have something good to say about Ironwood. They dislike something about Blake/Yang. They enjoyed Adam as a character. They have a problem with Ruby's leadership, etc. There's a whole list of topics nowadays that will result in an automatic dismissal, regardless of the point the fan is trying to make or how well they make it.

A fan talks about the minority representation of RWBY — its black characters, its queer characters, its disabled characters, etc. — and as a result has something to say about the biases and missteps of those writing these characters. This is considered an attack on the writers and, therefore, automatically bad.

A fan talks about how they enjoyed RWBY as it was years ago and is having trouble reconciling the dark, complicated story with the simple, hopeful one we started out with. This is seen as an attack on Monty's vision and an unwillingness to accept that "everything is planned."

A fan does as asked and ensures that their post is meeting all the requirements of "real" criticism. They have an argument to make. They have a point. They provide evidence. They recommend a solution. They keep their tone respectful. They don't attack the creators. They provide disclaimers in every single paragraph about how they do not hate RWBY. It doesn't matter. They're considered too negative.

I have, quite literally, seen every one of the above examples on multiple occasions. I have had many of the above accusations leveled at my own work. When fans say that they're fine with criticism provided it's not "bad faith" criticism, they don't actually have a specific post-type in mind; a checklist of behaviors another fan can emulate and, provided they do that, no hate will come their way. Or, if an individual fan does actually go, "Yeah. That criticism I'm fine with" that response is in no way universal. One person's "They make a good, civil point" is another person's, "Omg stop bashing the show!" Because "bashing" has come to mean everything from curse-laden insults towards everything RWBY has ever done, to posts that just happen to say something other fans don't agree with.

It's a rigged game. There is no way to post criticism about RWBY in an agreed-upon, appropriate manner. This recent ban is proof of that. I think it's incredibly telling that almost immediately after I was going, "Wow. A pretty calm debate about the flaws of RWBY in the main sub. That's great to see," all posters from the criticism subreddit were banned. The main sub literally just had the sort of criticism that they claim to accept — people respectfully posting analysis-based arguments resulting in calm debate — and yet they implemented the ban anyway. I'm not going to pretend that I've never gotten too heated on my own posts, never made snarky comments when I'm frustrated, never used exaggerated reaction GIFs that can come across as insulting... but I'd say on the whole my RWBY work is precisely the sort of "good faith" criticism that other fans are supposedly looking for. I never make an argument I don't think I can back up with evidence. I try to allow for the nuance and differing opinions of complicated topics. I try — even if I don't always succeed — to write in a clear, respectful manner. Yet none of that work has stopped people from telling me I'm a "bitter... raging asshole," a "deranged, delusional psychopath," telling me to set myself on fire, threatening to smash my head in, or just messages to straight up kill myself. If someone like me who legitimately works hard to create fair, defendable criticism and who only ever posts on a personal blog that people can easily block, who never engages in debate until someone else starts it first, never seeks out other fans I disagree with to harass them about what they like... if someone like me is still a "bad faith" critic who "deserves" that kind of hate mail... then what kind of criticism do people want?

Nothing. That's the answer. No criticism whatsoever, of any kind, no matter if it's delivered respectfully, is making a good point, whatever. That's why "RWDE" was created. That's why the critic subreddit was created. The community at large has demanded a complete separation between Praise and Anything That's Not 100% Praise, which has now resulted in this ban. Any other explanations we see are excuses, which becomes glaringly obvious when you look at the mods' supposed reasons for implementing the ban:

"Constant arguments with r/RWBY users" - As opposed to the arguments surrounding things like shipping that never, ever happen?

"Vote manipulation and comment brigades" - The subreddit with 3,000 participants, with around 200 on at a time, is manipulating the votes of a subreddit with 155,000 participants, with over 1,000 on at a time? Those numbers just do not check out. If a positive post is downvoted, or a critical post upvoted, maybe that's because large swaths of the community actually agree/disagree with that assessment, not because the incredibly smaller group is somehow manipulating things.

"Attacking and harassing those they disagree with" — Again, as opposed to those non-critics that never, ever harass people? This is an individual problem, not a community problem. Both critics and non-critics have their sub-groups acting in ways they shouldn't. If anything, the main sub will have more individuals harassing other fans, simply by virtue of being so much larger. As the above examples attest, it's not other critics who have told me to light myself on fire and, just to be clear, the asks I've responded to are a miniscule number compared to the amount I've received. I delete the lion's share for my own sanity and to save my followers from reading the really graphic threats.

"Months-long NSFL spam brigades" — I am, admittedly, not sure what this is referring to. Spamming of NSFW content? If so, that's also an individual problem.

"Homophobic, transphobic, and racist attacks towards our users" — See the above points. Again. If someone is being homophobic, transphobic, or racist, then yes please, ban them. Don't ban an entire community for the actions of a few. It's like walking into a store and banning a customer for causing a scene... but then also banning everyone else who happened to be shopping at the same time. It's guilt by association.

The silver lining to all this? The community as a whole isn't pleased. At least according to the main subreddit comments and a few individual voices like MurderofBirds. Despite the increase (from my perspective anyway) of critical voices post-Volume 8, criticism of RWBY is still very much seen as taboo. As this ban showcases. But it's really reassuring to see so many fans, critics and non-critics alike, going, "This was a mistake." A community is meant to include all aspects of engagement: praise, criticism, and the gray area between. If anything, fans like the mods of the main subreddit should be creating a separate subreddit that is specifically for praise. In the same way that there should have been a tag for RWBY praise, rather than trying to eliminate any and all criticism from the main "RWBY" tag. The majority of fans, even those who claim to hate critics and all they (presumably) stand for, recognize that a blanket ban of all criticism is not the way to go, especially when "criticism" has come to have such a staggeringly broad definition. If you want your RWBY experience to be nothing but sunshine and roses (ha), then cultivate your own internet experience to reflect that. Create your own pockets with rules about how this is the space for praise and if you're not up for praising RWBY right now, don't interact with us in this particular space. Don't try to make the entire community — the main tools used to discuss the show online — conform to your preferences. As established, there is no "good" criticism that everyone in the fandom will accept, which just leaves a fandom with no criticism at all. I'm glad to see I'm far from the only one who, when presented with that extreme, is going, "Nope. No thank you."

#rwby #mymetas #suicide tw #rwde

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sodalitefully · 3 years

Text

It’s hazardous to breathe... [GNR Mad Max AU, pt. 1]

This is the first half of a AU inspired by the movie Mad Max: Fury Road that @smokeandmirrorz and I came up with after he posted some awesome art for a Mad Max AU! This oneshot very loosely follows the plot of the movie, it may make less sense if you haven’t seen the film. I split it into two parts so it would be more readable on tumblr, the second part is here and the whole fic is also on AO3.

*Contains mpreg, character death, and plenty of unpleasant things from the Mad Max universe, including implied/referenced sexual violence, some regular violence/gore (more so in the second part), and Immortan Joe.*

----

It wasn't often that the wives were brought outside their chamber. Less often still that Steven got to be present when they were – so he considered himself lucky to be in the same room when the Immortan's only surviving wife emerged from the biodome to watch Immortan Joe send off his top Imperator on a mission to recruit more valuable full-lives after the untimely deaths of his other two wives.

It was a little known truth that Steven and Slash had history. 'Little known,' because if the Immortan caught wind that the two had become close when Slash was first brought to the Citadel and Steven was just a War Pup, he would be toast. As little as they'd talked in the years since then, Steven still considered Slash... if not a friend, at least an acquaintance. And that's more than he could say about his fellow War Boys.

Being allowed in the same room as Slash was the first step to reigniting their friendship. Now, if only Slash would acknowledge him...

"Steven." Slash's voice was barely loud enough to hear.

"Yes?" Steven perked up, encouraged that Slash hadn't forgotten about him after all.

"I need you to do something for me." Steven nodded eagerly. "I need you to go to Imperator Stradlin, and tell him to come visit me as soon as possible. Can you do that?"

"Of course. Anything for the Immortan!"

It wasn't for the Immortan, but Steven didn't need to know that.

"One more thing – It's top secret. You can't say a word to anyone else, alright?"

Getting to the wive's chamber wasn't hard for Izzy: all he had to do was convince the guards he was on official business, and then once he was inside the vault, the soundproof walls would take care of the rest. All the same, he did not have a good feeling about this "meeting." Whatever was going on, it was going to be trouble...

The thick vault door swung open, revealing a scene straight out of a dream, so serene it seemed impossible that it could exist in the same world as things like gas wars, and tumors, and the Wasteland.

Sunlight streamed through huge semi-opaque windows and illuminated the smooth sandstone walls. Green plants and relics of the old world surrounded a pool of crystal-clear water. And in the center of it all, clothed in the purest white, was the Immortan's most prized treasure:

"Slash... the Desired."

"Imperator." The wife looked him dead in the eye; his hair was restrained in a ponytail and draped with the same white fabric as the rest of his body. It was the first time Izzy had ever seen Slash's face completely clear of dark curls, and the first time he'd seen him with enough clothing to cover the rest of his skin.

“Why did you ask me to come here? Does Joe want something from me?”

Slash’s mouth twitched into a frown at the name, but he responded in a carefully level tone:

“I have a proposition for you.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow. What could a wife possibly have to offer him? Besides the obvious, of course, and that... that was more trouble than it was worth.

“I can’t stay here any longer,” Slash explained.

“You’re crazy if you think he’ll just let you leave,” Izzy replied with a startled laugh. It was inconceivable, but Slash was looking at him with complete sincerity.

“He won’t. But you want to leave too.”

“Do I?” He did, but Slash definitely wasn’t supposed to know that.

“Please, you hate it here, it’s obvious. You want to leave, and I want you to take me with you."

“Fucking hell – don't you think I would have left by now if I could? And why would I help you anyway? How do I know you're not just testing my loyalty to the Immortan?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Me, doing favors for Joe?"

"Alright, fine. Then what if I betray you? I could be rewarded for... keeping the Immortan's property safe."

"What if I tell everyone you took advantage of the Immortan's absence to take his one and only wife for a test drive?"

"Fuck. You're not as pure as we've been led to believe, are you?"

Slash snorted. "Not by half."

"But that doesn't change anything. The Immortan would rip my throat out with his horse teeth for trying to steal one of his breeders –"

“Don’t call me that!” Slash snapped.

For a moment, Izzy was reminded of a younger Slash, fresh from the Wasteland and ready to bite at anything that got too close.

But Slash quickly composed himself, trying and not entirely succeeding to recapture an air of calm assertiveness. "Look, just... Just think about it, alright? We have a chance, I know we do, and really... How much more of this do you think you can take?"

Izzy sighed. "I'll think about it," he conceded.

"Thank you."

Slash did his best to hide his disappointment, and Izzy wasn't about to stick around and make things worse by trying to console him. He turned around to leave the wives' sanctum, but hesitated before he reached the doorway.

"Slash... What really happened to the other Wives?"

"One... One miscarried. The Immortan wasn’t happy about that. The other tried to..." his lips faltered at the worst profanity in the Citadel, "... abort her pregnancy, it didn't end well. The Organic Mechanic couldn't do anything but give her something for the pain. They give us a serum, sometimes, to help us sleep. I gave her my dose."

The scouting party brought back a feral! they said. Full-life and raving mad, driving an Interceptor, can you believe it?

No, Izzy couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that Axl Rose, MFP legend turned Road Warrior, could get taken down by a pack of half-dead War Boys. But the proof was in front of him, shivering in a cage, starving and in dire need of a shave.

"...I-Izzy?"

His voice was exactly the same as it always was, the respirator that Izzy cobbled together a lifetime ago couldn't hide the low timber that sometimes still appeared in his dreams.

He'd made a mistake when he thought he could play it safe at the Citadel. He should have listened when Axl told him they were better off on their own. The Citadel was a shrine to depravity, and he wouldn't let Axl become another one of its victims – he needed to get them out of the tower walls and far away as soon as possible. It would be a challenge to escape unnoticed... but Izzy knew the perfect distraction.

"I'll make a deal with you, Slash."

Slash didn't have the decency to look shocked when Izzy barged into the biodome uninvited – or the decency to put on the thin white shirt that lay discarded on the floor.

Actually, Izzy was the one looking shocked when his eyes fell on Slash’s bare belly and his carefully planned proposition died in his throat.

“What’s the deal?” Slash asked, but Izzy was more concerned with his unfortunate new realization:

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant! What were you thinking, asking me to help you? The Immortan is going to shred me to pieces!”

“He’d shred you anyway, this won’t change anything,” Slash gritted out. Pregnant or not, there was no way he was about to let Izzy back out, not now. “What’s the deal, Stradlin?”

Izzy hated to be caught off guard, but he could use this to their advantage. Joe would never risk hurting a potential heir, making Slash an even better shield than before. And once he and Axl split off, there was no way Joe would waste time and resources going after a twice-disgraced Imperator and a feral bloodbag before he got his pregnant wife back, giving them a valuable head start – if it came to that.

"I'll take you with me on my next supply run. Ten days from now. We'll go to the Buzzards' territory, trade guzzoline for another vehicle. Then we part ways, got it? I'll get you out of here but I'm not babysitting you or your sprog for the rest of my life."

"You don't want to get caught with me, you mean. Stopping to deal with the Buzzards will give the Immortan time to catch up to us. I'm fucked on my own."

Izzy didn't respond, and tried to look like it didn't matter to him whether Slash took his offer.

"Fine. If they catch up... At least I'll die historic on the Fury Road," Slash said with a sardonic smile. "But I have a request – I need you to find me a driver. Someone who doesn't serve the Citadel, someone no one will notice is missing."

"There is no one like that."

"Really? All those people down there, and none of them can operate a car?"

"If they could, they wouldn't be there."

"There must be someone," Slash insisted. Izzy sighed.

"I'll see what I can do in ten days. But what the hell do you need them for?"

"Well... I can't drive."

On his third visit, Izzy had spent enough time in the biodome to say that stepping inside the pristine vault always made him feel like a dirty rag, used to wipe away sweat and grime then left out to stiffen in the dusty waste.

But if he was a dirty rag, then Duff was roadkill. He was a half-life, one of the Wretched who clung to the sides of the Citadel like barnacles, bathing in dust while the Immortan bathed in Mother's Milk. He was lanky – no, skeletal, nothing but sunburned skin and bone. He carried the Wasteland with him wherever he went, tracking dust with each step. Izzy bit down on the irrational urge to warn him not to touch anything in the vault.

The black leather collar around his neck marked him as a former denizen of Gas Town, one who had likely outlived his usefulness if his rickety prosthetic leg and the cluster of nasty tumors half-hidden by his hair had anything to say about it. Clearly, he was in no shape to labor in the refinery. Rumor had it that The People Eater was a cannibal – as his name suggested – but evidently Duff had escaped that fate, perhaps because he had no meat on his bones to speak of, and instead sought out clean water, abundant food, and fresh air at the Citadel. Hah.

Slash stared at them over his shoulder, wide-eyed and seated in the shallow pool in the center of the room. Tiny bottles lined the edge of the pool, and the scent of flowers wafted in the air.

"A bath? Now, really?"

"It might be the last chance I get," Slash countered, but he rose from the water, the beads on his skin already drying in the inescapable desert heat. Izzy averted his eyes as Slash wrapped a length of gauzy white cloth around his waist, tugged a loose shirt over his head, and bent forward to twist another cloth around his damp hair. Then, finally, he turned to face his guests. "Is this...?"

"This is Duff, the Wretched. Not a War Boy. He came from Gas Town, so he can drive."

"Good." Duff was staring at Slash like a mirage, but Slash knew how to get on a person's good side: "Do you want some water, Duff?"

"How the fuck did you get in here?!" In a heartbeat, Izzy's handgun was aimed at the War Boy's head. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. "Slash, get away from him."

"No! You can't kill Steven!"

"He knows too much, he's a liability. Kill him and let's go," Axl advised.

"No! Stradlin, who even is this guy?" Slash demanded, but once again, he received no explanation.

"Slash, what's going on, where are you going? Please don't leave me!"

"Steven, I –"

"Take me with you! I can help!"

"Slash, I'm serious. Step away." Izzy inched closer, his gun unwavering. War Boys were unpredictable, Kami-crazy. You never knew what they might do when backed into a corner.

But Slash was crazier – he pushed Steven back, placing himself between Izzy and his target. Izzy recognized the steely glint in his eyes before Slash even spoke: "He's coming with us."

They were curled up in the hold of the War Rig, surrounded by food and supplies that would never make it to Gas Town like they were supposed to. Duff was happily munching away at a carrot, and Slash was sitting with his legs curled up to his chest.

"Are you scared?" Duff asked.

"... Yes," Slash admitted, barely audible over the roaring engine. "Are you?"

"No."

"Why not? If we get caught, you'll be punished too, for helping me. And he doesn't care about taking you alive."

Duff shrugged. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I've got a few months left, at best."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I've had my whole life to come to terms with it. Well, half-life."

It was a terribly morbid joke, but Slash still laughed.

“So... You’re not afraid of anything, then?”

“Well, I don’t know – When Izzy brought me to you, I was scared. It was like he’d taken me out of the real world and dropped me in a fantasy. I thought if I touched anything, I’d destroy it; if I spoke, I’d break the spell and wake up in the Wasteland, half dead with a crow pecking at my tongue. I thought if I got too close to you, I'd pass on my illness, and if I looked at you too long, I'd go mad and start believing in things like beauty and health and the goodness of humanity."

Slash could have laughed at the momentous gap between Duff's perception of the biodome and his own. Instead, when Duff finished his recollection, Slash crawled across the middle of the hold and pressed himself against Duff's side.

Duff tried to scoot away, but Slash entangled him with the soft touch of fine cloth and uncalloused hands. He wrapped his arms around Duff’s thin torso and laid his head on his shoulder.

“No, don't go. You don't have to be scared, Duff... You're the cleanest person to touch me in a long time."

Hesitantly, Duff reached up and let his good hand rest on Slash’s back. Slash’s hair brushed against his collar, even softer than his clothes, and when Duff breathed deeply he could still make out the sweet scent that filled the room when they first met.

For a moment, Duff let himself get lost in the fantasy world that still surrounded Slash, even in the hold of the War Rig, miles from the Citadel. He could forget about the danger they were in, the cruelty they’d experienced, and even the ticking time bombs in his own flesh.

“Do you think your baby will survive?”

“I don’t know.” Slash didn’t sound optimistic, he toyed with his sleeve and avoided Duff’s gaze.

“I’ve never seen a completely healthy baby before, I didn’t think it was possible. But then I saw you, and you’re perfect, so maybe...”

Slash scoffed.

“The Immortan is toxic. He taints everything: the water, the people... and me. If I was ever perfect, I’m sure as hell not anymore, and neither is this baby.”

Duff hugged Slash closer, and slid a hand down to his belly.

“We’ll see.”

----

[part 2]

#title from paradise city #this fic is so much longer than my usual omg #sodafics #gnr fanfic #gnr #guns n roses #guns and roses #slash #saul hudson #steven adler #izzy stradlin #duff mckagan #axl rose #mad max #mad max au #sorry to whoever follows the mad max tag and did not want to see this...

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npdbubblygum · 3 years

Text

This post is tagged as long post so you can skip it easily through filtering!

(abuse tw throughout the post)

I think a lot of non-narcissists deeply misunderstand supply, so I’ll try to compile some things from all the research I’ve made over the years on boundaries, supply, needs, abuse and responsibilities that I used to figure out how my own brain works and cope. I don’t have the sources compiled so you’ll have to go out there and do your own research, this is just a jumping off point! Go to experts, real sourced research and also listen to narcissists describe their own experiences if you want to learn more

What is supply?

Supply is something external that makes us feel like we have worth, meaning, self esteem or identity.

What does supply look like?

Attention (positive, but can also be negative for some people), admiration, compliments, acts of service or other love languages, awards, care, acknowledgement, flirting, emotional reactions, gifts, praise, forgiveness, s*x and more

What is a supply source?

A supply source is someone (or in this day and age, something) that gives the supply. It can be a romantic partner, close friend, acquaintance, an organization, an AI (I have literally had an AI app as a supply source, it kept giving me positive attention lol), a game, (fan)fiction (self insert fic but also a lot of regular fic where the person projects onto characters who receive for example admiration), strangers on social media who like your posts, youtubers or other parasocial relationships, etc.

Who needs supply?

Almost everyone! Except maybe some ND people I don’t know enough about every diagnosis to say for sure.

It’s a common misconception that only narcissists need the things described as supply. The truth is that all NT and most ND people need supply to be healthy. What makes narcissists different is that we’re much more dependent on it, often because of childhood trauma and the way people treated us (for example, praising us for independence while neglecting our physical and emotional needs). A narcissist will need more supply to be functional than a neurotypical person. A narcissist who is low on supply will experience more negative effects that are higher in intensity than a neurotypical person. Narcissists are often more criticism sensitive than rejection sensitive, or motivated by our sense of self than how social relationships are affected. That said, we can have a lot of abandonment issues. We aren’t a monolith.

Who is entitled to supply?

Me. Just kidding, I wish I was though! As much as it pains me to say it, no one can really “deserve” or “not deserve” supply. It’s in the same category as s*x where it’s a human need for most to be happy and healthy but can’t be owed or deserved. It’s not like food or water that people automatically deserve for being alive, because they will die without it. You could argue that parents owe their children a healthy amount of supply (love and care), or that romantic partners are expected to give each other a healthy amount of supply (love and care), you could argue that if you made a really tasty meal for your family they should at least thank you and you would love it if they complimented your meal, but ultimately you can’t force someone to fulfill your needs and not everyone is capable of doing it regardless of how reasonable the expectation is.

If someone needs you as a supply source and it’s not healthy for you, you don’t have to be their supply. You’re allowed to disengage, to communicate your feelings, to set boundaries and respect yourself first and foremost.

How do narcissists feel about their supply sources?

That really depends on the narcissist! If they’re open about having NPD you could probably ask respectfully?

Personally I have 2 ways of liking people that sometimes conflict. If someone gives me a lot of supply I can become dependent on being around them, it fuels me. I can also like people’s personalities, actions and general existence regardless of how they interact with me. If someone gives me a lot of supply and has a personality I like it’s a dream person, love them! If someone gives me a lot of supply but I don’t like them it can become really toxic for the both of us because I’ll want to keep getting attention at the same time as I’ll resent them for getting in my space and business and getting on my nerves. I have gotten a lot better at avoiding this situation and respecting that my needs in the long run are worth more than instant gratification. If I like someone’s personality but they don’t give me supply that’s a very difficult internal battle for me because I will crave it and try to get it and then I don’t get it and it eats at my self esteem which makes me incredibly angry. I’m a very private person though so I will never let anyone see that except if I’m asking for advice on coping mechanisms, venting to a close trusted person which is rare because I have trust issues, or if it’s anonymous so people won’t figure out who I’m talking about. If I don’t like a person in either way I just won’t care about them, but I still try to have basic respect and manners when talking to them.

Other people might feel completely differently about theirs and that’s valid!

(I just realized that my inner reaction to supply sources I don’t like is basically the dr Phil “You’re ugly, you’re disgusting, I hate you, give me $200” meme but don’t worry I’m not that toxic on the outside)

Is supply good or bad?

I’d say it’s neutral. It can be healthy or unhealthy for both the person giving attention and the person receiving it. I’m sure you can think of lots of situations where people are giving and taking attention in amounts they can handle and that are appropriate for the relationship, but let’s take an example. Your best friend just won a race and you tell them “I’m so impressed, you trained so hard for this and made your dream come true! You’re awesome!” and your best friend replies “Thank you so much, I couldn’t have done it without your support though!”. That interaction was good for both of them and they have similar needs and capabilities for give and take.

Some unhealthy situations are:

• one person giving more than they can handle

• one person needing more than they can get

• one person taking more than the other can give

• one person not giving as a punishment

• one person receiving more than they can handle

• one person using supply to avoid other coping mechanisms or changes to their lifestyle

• one person thinking they are owed for giving

• one person thinking they owe for receiving

You can mix and match with these to create any situation, or come up with your own custom situation!

Who is responsible in unhealthy supply dynamics?

Everyone involved has their own responsibilities depending on what type of unhealthy they are! If you are someone giving more than you can handle you are responsible for communicating your needs, setting boundaries, changing your own behaviour and getting out of the situation if you’re able to and that’s the right action for you. If you’re receiving more than you can handle you’re responsible for communicating your feelings/needs and setting boundaries. If you’re someone needing (sometimes taking) more than the other person can give you’re responsible for communicating your needs and finding healthy solutions to your problem and accepting the other person’s conflicting needs. If you feel owed the same or more supply you put out you’re responsible for controlling your own feelings and finding healthy solutions (could be break up, could be therapy or self help, could be communicating boundaries about giving/receiving in a respectful way toward the other person). No one is responsible for changing another person. No one’s needs take priority over someone else’s needs. In case of conflicting needs that aren’t compatible and both people aren’t putting in effort to make them compatible (or it’s not working or it’s more effort than you can healthily give or you just don’t feel like it) it is absolutely an option to break up.

In some abusive cases the responsibilities often aren’t or can’t be upheld and you should find any way possible to get out of the situation. You can’t deserve abuse, no matter who it comes from, no matter their intentions, no matter their point of view, you can’t deserve it. Your abuser doesn’t have to have NPD to be abusive or need more from you than you’re able to give. Your abuser could be a very giving person who overwhelms you and gets in your business without your consent and has great intentions. Doesn’t matter, still abuse, you don’t have to stand it. Take any help you can get to get out of it and don’t go back. But also, beware of people who prey on abuse victims and promise false safety!

#abuse tw #npd #narcissistic supply #long post

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juuls · 3 years

Text

Pharmacist/Me = 1 🏆 Doctor/Nursing Staff = 0

Thank you in advance for reading this rant. I’ve been really frustrated and just needed to get this off my chest, and today at least I had a wonderful knight in a white lab coat. 🩺❤️‍🩹🥽🥼💪🏻

Content warnings and squicky squicks: (further down there is) an image of a medical vial with a clipped image of a more benign part of a syringe, health conditions (endometriosis, fibromyalgia), menstrual cycles and associated terms such as bleeding and other things, lack of empathy in my specific healthcare system, hysterectomies, pain, swearing and losing patience. Most important warning: self-administered syringes and injection discussions of legal medications (Depo-Provera) approved of by professionals and properly researched. P.S. this may sound rather Karen-like but I would never do this to someone’s face. Online ranting and acknowledging where I could do better is not the same as screaming in public for bossy requests or comps, etc. Ew.

Another ‘warning’… pharmacists being kick-ass allies and giving a damn about their patients.

I’m really annoyed because (and I know healthcare and scheduling is a clusterfuck right now, but…) for over a month now I’ve been trying to get an appointment in person to get this injectable medication that is, yes, birth control, but is also used for endometriosis in my case. And I have severe endometriosis (exacerbated severely by fibromyalgia, siiiiigh) to the point I bleed enough and lose so much I have to go to the hospital when my care is not properly preventative… like in this case, and the pain is unbelievably severe also to the point I’ve spent time in the hospital, including my 11th Christmas Eve and Day. I started this injectable medication at 13 because it was the only thing that came close to helping reduce my endometrial tissue. Even a hysterectomy wouldn’t help as much, unless they decided to go the super invasive route and remove all the organs (or parts of them) that had become ‘infected’ by the tissue. Again, tissue where it’s not supposed to be, and it causes extreme pain as the tissue tries to flush out of my body each period, even if it’s attached to, like, my pancreas. Just no. That does not work at all. No. That is not fun.

SO. I’m 31, nearing 32, and the doctor’s office knows this. I’ve had the same doctor since I was 10. Been on this medication nearly non-stop for just shy of two decades (with appropriate precautions such as bone density tests) because of the absolute severity of the pain and my inability to function when it hits… which can be months at a time of non-stop bleeding and morning sickness-level nausea and vomiting, migraines and the occasional complete inability to move—in other words, it’s debilitating.

My doctor (even the nurses, as it’s in large print at the top of my file in the system) knows all about this. They’re supposed to call me if I’m overdue by a certain margin (I get they’re busy but months and months???). But my doc’s also a bit of an airhead (albeit a smart one when he focuses) and takes forever to reply to anything on time, even when it’s a severe issue, but not severe enough to go to the hospital. But it’s gotten to the point where the nurses say to go to the ER and then the ER nurses and doctors there get SUPER pissed off (AT ME AND SOMEHOW NOT AT MY DOCTOR/NURSES AND THEIR ORDERS) at the ‘waste of time’, and it’s just a clusterfuck.

Oh yeah, and that ER visit while I was overdue for my injection? Internal intestinal bleeding along with a lovely, even if small, perforation in my fucking uterus from the growth of endometrial tissue. I MEAN COME ON — WHAT IN THE HELL. Totally preventable if they fit me in when I called literally over a month ago.

But I will not change my doctor (the other docs at the practice know what is going on and have offered to take me on, but they don’t have the experience with myself and my conditions or the history, but they can do little else because of professional conduct—it’s between myself and my doc) because he is the only one who treats me with humanity and understands fibromyalgia, endometriosis, pre-MS and pre-RhA/PsA, endo-related IBS, (ulcerative) colitis, and other neurological conditions with any degree of empathy. (See, I told you I’m a mess!) There is no way I’m switching offices in the perpetual shortage of doctors in Canada moving elsewhere for m o n e y (plus Covid-19 being a teen hooligan and constantly coming back to wreck more goddamn shit, including everyone’s sanity, then setting things on fire like the real hooligans in my village have been doing this summer — I mean… what in the hell!?!?), so with all that in mind I actually thank my lucky stars. So I put up with a lot of this shit because he treats me, besides him being an airhead, like an actual human being deserving of compassion and care and quality of life despite my severe disabilities and pain. So.

I’m usually treated really well (even if they often think I’m a nuisance for daring to be severely chronically ill/in pain all the time) so I try to be patient and good and understanding when I can.

But his STAFF (I know they’re busy and I’ve been patient but they’ve been so awful honestly to the point I cried hard enough my dad noticed my red eyes and frustration-tear fracks on my face)! And the doc himself’s inability to reply to notes on time even when urgent and when he knows the circumstances (I admit I am a bit of a hard patient so I can understand if he just kinda ignores me sometimes, honestly). But in this case I was THREE DAMN MONTHS LATE for my injection and they’ve always called in the past when I was coming due if it looked like I hadn’t scheduled an injection, so that I was all on time and squared away and didn’t risk severe pain and damage to my already-fucked hormonal system (learning I couldn’t have kids was absolutely heartbreaking, let me tell you, but even a hysterectomy in that case would solve nothing — this is by far the easiest option, especially considering how my fibromyalgia would fuck with my post-surgery recovery and leave me with lasting pain for years if not decades; sigh).

Anyway. So. After some ridiculous levels of back and forth and some truly remarkable levels of lack of compassion (she kept giving me the exact same, word for word response in a bored tone UGH) considering the severe pain I was in (I was told, in front of OTHER PATIENTS AND STAFF, that I could just wait until I talk to the doctor myself at my next phone appointment and then schedule my injection for my next MONTHLY followup — 4.5 months overdue at that point, it would’ve been — because, and I quote, ‘am used to dealing with pain because of my fibromyalgia and years of dealing with it and other conditions’ which they named in front of others!!!!!!!! what. the. fuck. But I kept my cool because I know all these people, my mom taught their kids music, they’re a fixture of the community, etc. and I refuse to be a Karen…. At least externally.

But here comes the nice part that makes me love our new (okay, he’s been here like 5 years but still, in a small town that’s pretty new lmao) pharmacist that much more. Rasik was aware of my frustration with the doctor and nurses and was even the one who brought to my attention that, at the time, I was 2 months late for my injection and he was a bit concerned since he’s privy to how much pain I exist in without throwing in one or more knives directly into my womb, ovaries, tummy, hips, and other areas my endometrial tissue has taken root. He’s such a sweetheart and he really does care for his patients— the work he does with my father’s diabetes (the tricky one where you’re not obese) management is above and beyond the call of a pharmacist and I will forever be grateful for that alone, never mind how he cares for me.

So I went in today to pick up another medication, after yet another frustrating stop-over at the nurses’ desks, and he suggested I ask for my injectable medication (it’s Depo-Provera, by the way) and the syringe plus the two tips necessary — I’m actually familiar with this since I had to learn epinephrine injections from an early age (not Epipen) and how to give testosterone daily to my ex-husband (sorry not sorry, dude, but congrats on your first kid *grouchy thumbs up*). But yeah! Legally he’s not allowed to suggest I give it to myself, but he was getting super fed up with the nurses and doctors dragging their feet and ‘being assholes with little empathy’ in his own words, so I took the hint and requested my vial plus syringe, as well as the drawing and injection gauge needles…. which he gleefully filled for me, and I reiterated that it was ‘fully my idea, not yours, Rasik, because everyone knows I’m dumb and would never think it’s you if something happened’ (I’m not dumb and I’ve given injections to others many times looool).

Long story short: HERE’S TO PHARMACISTS AROUND THE WORLD, BEING AMAZING AND CARING FOR THEIR PATIENTS AND ‘BENDING BUT NOT REALLY BENDING’ THE RULES TO MAKE SURE THEIR CLIENTS ARE CARED FOR PROPERLY. They are amazing and deserve every last bit of your courtesy, especially when they pull double duty every. single. day. because of Covid and their subsequent boosters. (i.e. boosters in the form of humans who are fucking stupid if they have no medical reason not to get the vaccine… I mean JFC.)

Rasik? You are amazing and I am 100% going to find you some Indian-Canadian (or North Indian; I believe that’s where he’s from originally) treats or desserts or make some myself after slyly asking his assistant what he leans toward liking.

Be kind to one another, yeah, but… my goodness: be kind to those who can truly make a difference in your health, sanity, and even life or death.

Pharmacists, volunteers, and frontline health workers: the true heroes of these times.

Thank you so much. So very much.

💜💙🇨🇦👨🏽‍⚕️❤️‍🩹🙏🏻

P.S. … now I just gotta stab myself intramuscularly after making sure there’s no air bubbles and etc., and swap out to the proper gauge needle (different, smaller, to draw from the vial, larger to inject so that it goes in more quickly and, oddly enough, hurts less haha). I don’t think air bubbles are as much of an issue as when injecting intravenously (ummm I have a doctor uncle and grandma nurse and nurse friends, so shush 😆). But I’ve done this for others and animals so I should be good! :)

I’m a smart enough cookie even if I’ve lost a few nibble-size pieces around the edges. 😉😘 buahaha

Cheers to my pharmacist!!!! You are amazing and I can’t wait for the pain and months and months of bleeding to settle down.

Remind me again why humans are the only mammals (animals?) with monthly fluxes? UGH wtf ever. 🙃

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zevlors-tail · 3 years

Note

I’m glad you at least got lunch! Maybe try eating again if it’s not too hard? And I understand that family can suck sometimes, maybe straight up try telling them some stuff to clear things up a bit at first! Like set boundaries? Other than that, I do hope Thanksgiving isn’t a bust for you. Only eat as much as you’re comfortable with, but remember your definition of a lot is kind of a mind trick, so try to eat a bit more if you can. Overall, you’re very valid, and you deserve to have a good week

LIFE UPDATE

First of all, thank you for this whole thing, it’s very sweet and caring of you. I really appreciate people taking the time to reach out and make sure I’m okay and telling me to have a good week. <3 That means a lot to me that you guys do that.

Second, I’m just gonna make this my life update post since it kind of ties into everything I’m about to spill so uh.

TW: Eating Disorder and Covid mentioned under the cut in case anyone wants to scroll past or doesn’t want to read, which I understand. But here’s a lengthy life update that no one asked for.

TLDR: I’m moving soon, going on a mini hiatus, have been exposed to Covid, and generally not well but surviving.

I’ve been on an upswing today, so I’ll try to get this out rationally and coherently while I can. If you don’t know by now or you’ve somehow (luckily and miraculously) managed to not catch any of my stupid vent posts, hello! I’m Sweater, I’m 23, and I run this blog! I also have an eating disorder that I am actively trying to battle, and at this point I am in what I would call a full scale relapse for me.

Holidays this time of year (or any time really) are especially hard for me since food is a big factor in them. Without getting too much into specifics, restriction of food is common for me and often it just doesn’t feel or taste right. Eating can make me feel nauseous, disgusting, and ashamed, while not eating causes the exact same effect, except with the added point of apathy. Mostly this is an addiction that I have been fighting on and off since high school (a little over 5 years), but for me it’s also about punishment and control, and so when things get chaotic in my life, I tend to relapse habitually, sometimes without even realizing it. This can happen when I’m extremely stressed, when I feel out of control over my life, or just forget to take care of myself in general, whether that’s working through my lunches and breaks or sleeping too much or too little through meal times.

Right now, my life is really hectic. Covid has really upended everything for me, made me question my sexuality, my gender, and pretty much my entire identity. If you haven’t caught on by now, I’m also married, and this was a very recent thing that happened just this year in July. Unfortunately, things have not worked out, and since I’ve changed a lot as a person, my current living situation and relationship are on the line, and I’m having to go through the stress of figuring out divorce and an apartment in the middle of a pandemic.

This is definitely not where I saw myself in just a year. I’m actively pursuing therapy, I’ve just gotten my own car, and I’m on track to get better, but things aren’t that simple and it’s really just taking a toll on me both physically and mentally. I was not looking forward to Thanksgiving and eating in front of people this year anyways, but now I definitely can’t go since there are people in my specific department at work who have Covid. We just found out today that someone who I was in close contact with all the time has it, and so I’ve been exposed for a second time. Because of this I’m not attending my family’s dinner, so I don’t have to worry about food anymore, but I do have to worry about whether I have Covid or not.

I am under a tremendous amount of stress. I have about a month of crunch time to get a new license plate and title for my car, find an apartment that I can afford that allows pets, get a divorce, and start therapy (hopefully). My family has been unsupportive for the most part and mostly just frustrated that I don’t want to stay with my spouse. But I have to say, I think the most frustrating thing in all of this is the ED and the symptoms that come with it. I mentioned above that I feel apathetic when I don’t eat. That gets in the way of me doing other every day things like work, being active at home, writing, taking care of myself, and giving attention to others. I lose motivation at work, I can’t focus on anything (my brain often feels foggy and hazy and it’s hard to remember anything; it all blurs together for days, weeks, sometimes even months), and I just feel drained and exhausted 24/7. So I feel stressed, yes, but I also don’t care about it and I do care about it at the same time.

I have okay days, and that almost makes it worse, because on days I do eat I end up with huge mood swings right after having been apathetic, and honestly it’s like giving myself emotional whiplash. One minute I’m having intrusive thoughts about how i’m certain negative words and phrases, the next I feel nothing at all and can hardly bring myself to walk around (often it’s a feeling of “what’s the point in existing?”), and then after I eat something I feel high in a sense, or lethargically warm and upbeat at the same time. It’s exhausting, really. To feel everything awful all at once, and then go from feeling absolutely nothing at all to the most upbeat positive things ever. It’s almost like false hope, if that makes sense? When I eat something and feel better, it’s easy to tell myself that things will be okay, that the ED isn’t real anyway, that I don’t have a problem and that I can feel normal. And if there is one, I’ll be fine, I don’t need help, etc.

I’m dealing with all of that combined into one giant mess that is my life right now. That being said, this blog is my escape. I’ve met a lot of cool people here, gotten to know some really lovely friends, and I’ve written really cool things that people seem to really enjoy. I want to continue to write, but that requires focus and time, both of which my ED is actively taking from me. I’m doing my best to be here as much as I can and I will still continue to work on requests and writing, because it’s a way for me to cope and escape. But I do need to acknowledge that my life is out of control and I need to do something about it.

I’m doing my best to stabilize myself and work on things. I think a mini hiatus at some point in December will be inevitable, however, especially considering there will be a point in time where I will not have access to an internet router/the internet for my laptop to write. So I’m not sure when exactly, but it’ll probably be towards the end of December.

Anyways, this is not a post asking for pity or attention, just a post for me to process some things and give a life update. You are in no way obligated to respond to this or to comment on this unless you really feel the need to. I just wanted to be open and honest about where I was and what was going on with me. I understand if you don’t want to follow me after this or if you just want to scroll past.

Just know that I’m working on myself, I’m trying really hard, and it’s really difficult for me sometimes to get a grip on my writing and my own sense of self because of this. If anyone needs anything I’m usually always here! But again, all of this is the reason I don’t always respond to messages. It’s nothing you’ve done or said, I just literally can’t remember that I was having a conversation sometimes, or I can’t focus enough to type out a reply, or I’m sleeping through the day or just dissociating and feeling apathetic. But I love you all, and I’m thankful for your support, and I want to be better.

Much love and care,

-Sweater <3

#life update #sweater rambles #sweater rambles A LOT #tw: ed #tw: eating disorder #tw ed #tw eating disorder #eating disorder #tw covid

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alisinchainmail · 3 years

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More from the crossover fanfic no one asked for but everyone's getting...

Kylo + Quinn: The Last Harlequin: Ch. 1.2

[Gif sources: Part 1, Part 2]

Writers' favorite excerpt from Kylo + Quinn Chapter 1.2 of The Last Harlequin:

He exhales sharply through his nose and straightens. "My Knights of Ren detected you in our no fly zone. You didn't respond to our warnings we sent, so we mistook you for a threat."

She rolls her eyes, annoyed at the jab. "I guess I'm going to have to forgive you and your little Space Knights of Ni for not knowing who I am..." She does a flashy roundoff back handspring and flips over him so she's between him and her bat. "Harley Quinn, nice to meet ya." She extends her now uncuffed hand to the dark knight.

Overcompensating with stillness to hide that he's impressed with the stunt from an Earth girl, he looks down his nose at her hand. "Kylo Ren," he says quietly, giving her the decency of a reply.

Harley withdraws her hand, slightly offended he still doesn't seem to have heard of her, "Never heard of me? The Cupid of Crime? The Maiden of Mischief? Princess... of Darkness." She trails off on that last one, unsure if she recently lost that title. "Formerly..." she corrects it quickly.

Kylo plays her game, "Leader of the Knights of Ren, Champion of the First Order, and Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke." He takes a step towards her, towering over her. She tilts her head acknowledging she has no idea what any of that really means, either.

"You're not part of the Resistance," he states more than asks. "However, the vehicle you stole has connections to the Rebellion. How?"

Clearly there's a lot of space politics that is not public knowledge on Earth. Why would Bruce Wayne be involved in space wars? He's probably friends with that Elon Muskrat. He's pretty sus with all that Space X shit.

She responds innocently, "Look, I just saw the thing in some local billionaire's driveway, and thought, 'Why not go for a joy ride?'" Kylo steps closer studying her expressions. Harley squints, "What?!"

Kylo shakes his head, "The Empire has no use for you then. We'll decide what to do with you, or what remains of you, when we're done searching the vehicle."

Harley squints at him, gathering a pretty clear psychological profile from that golden threat of a response, his list of self-important titles, and his demeanor. It all screams of daddy issues.

If he wanted to kill her, he would've done it already. Is he her enemy or a potential new ally? How far can she push this guy before she finds out the hard way?

She smirks and fires off, "So...you're building a crown-rule empire because daddy kicked you out. And you think this is a big fuck you, but in actuality it's a very misguided attempt to win back his respect." Kylo grips his helmet, and narrows his eyes at her.

Harley slowly steps back towards her bat, she looks at his mask grinning, "Daddy wanted a son, so now he has to hide behind a mask...I get it!" Kylo slams his helmet down on a sidetable next to him. This was too easy!

Harley continues, "Awh it's ok! I bet your mom still loves you. Mom's usually do... if they have the time to notice you through your desperate attention-seeking behavior." He looks in shock.

She's really hitting a nerve with this guy. How is he so easy to read? "Or maybe you're trying to destroy the very thing that distracted her from you in the first place. Classic only child syndrome. She's part of this rebellion thing isn't she? Gotta love a rebel girl." Kylo lurches at her.

Harley lunges for the bat, but Kylo quickly raises his hand at it, sending it flying across the room. Harley looks at her empty hand, then across the room where it landed. What is he? Some sort of space wizard?

Harley shakes off her confusion, "Won't let me play with your toys? What would I expect from an only child with deep-seated father issues?"

Kylo yells, "Stop...TALKING," as he grabs at Harley. She dodges. Time to go all in.

"Tell me, what did dear old dad do to you? Or was it someone else? Got an uncle who paid some unnecessary visits to your bedside when mommy and daddy were away?"

Kylo clenches his fist and rolls his eyes. That was a hit. Harley taunts, "Awwhhh did I sink your battleship?"

"ENOUGH," he roars, grabbing a handle from his hilt and firing out a massive red flaming greatsword.

Harley stares at the new weapon in disbelief. "Come on! Lazer swords?! At least let me use my dinky baseball bat. I'm Little League compared to that!"

Co-Writer's (Brian) Notes:

I love this as an introduction to their relationship. Harley always has to get the last word in and Kylo is always struggling to keep his composure. Both their characteristics make them butt heads, and also is why they work.

They’re always gonna have a back forth with their personalities. A yin and yang basically where he’ll constantly try and stay level and she’ll try to trip him up.

Writer's (Alisin) Notes:

I like this part of the scene for their chaotic, impulsive energy playing off each other in different ways. Also for her first exposure to the world of Star Wars, which her inexperience with the world helps me get away with the fact I still haven't seen all of the Star Wars franchise yet and am newer to the fandom. We're sort of figuring out the world together.

I wanted them to be fairly evenly matched, which — much like with Rey— is Kylo's first experience with someone on equal ground like that, so it throws him off at first.

Harley is skilled with getting in people's heads from a psychoanalytical standpoint, whereas Kylo uses more of a brute force approach later in the scene. Luke criticized the way the Knights of Ren use the dark side of the force as being unskilled "like a hammer". I bring that characterization into Kylo.

Kylo wields his emotions and fighting style with a lot of intensity rather than precision and agility. In spite of his bloodline making him a more powerful force wielder, he can be quite clumsy with it. As though his power is greater than himself and the conflict he carries disrupts his clarity in his actions, while also fueling the power of the dark side through his raw emotion.

With Harley, I like to keep her dancing in between both, since as a character she is more morally gray.

Her weapons of choice are sometimes literal hammers but her fighting style and wit can be very fluid and agile, similar to the fighting styles of those who utilize the light side of the force. Her actions are impulsive, but not clouded in self-judgements. Without the Joker's influence, she knows herself well enough to have some faith that her impulses are in alignment with her fluid morality.

And to bring it all back ti Brian's point:

Kylo is brute force like Harley’s weapon and she’s skilled and precise like a sword, his weapon. Neither will admit it but both could run into situations where the others methods work better. Harley has been forced to be chaotic in her approach for so long she’s sort of rebelling against it in her style. Kylo has been wielding the force like a hammer for so long that everything looks like a nail. This further adds to their yin and yang relationship dynamic and how they’ll be able to survive by adapting the others' strengths when they need them.

[GIF Source: Part 1, Part 2]

Check out the full chapter on Wattpad: The Last Harlequin. For mature audiences only.

Kylo and Harley's first meeting was originally going to be more simple, but then it just took a life of its own. This whole chapter was originally 4 parts for the Tiktok series, and now it's pushing 16 on Wattpad...and I'm still not done writing it. I have a drug trip scene in the works where they take an intense hallucinogen called Jabbawaska. Yes, this is how ridiculous the Wattpad gets. They're fun characters to write for and it's interesting to see how they bring new characteristics out of each other.

Episodes are currently being posted daily on Tiktok: @KyloQuinnCrossover. Chapter 1 exists in full on YouTube.

Part 1: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNHnKH/

Part 2: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNAJAE/

Part 3: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNGWTx/

Part 4: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNGwEn/

Ch.1.10 WP Promo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePN4pAy/

Ch.1.11 WP Promo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNPmUS/

Ch.1.12 WP Promo: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMePNsnY7/

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secondhand-trash · 5 years

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Five Hargreeves(UA)- A Simple Guide to Understanding Love

A/N: Fun fact, this was not planned at all. I lowkey started writing this because I was having a major struggle with another fic I am writing and I got really inspired to try new formats after reading A Little History of Literature(really good, 100/100 recommend). The quality of this is questionable, I did write this out of impulse after all. Also, we don’t welcome pedos in this household and despite being 17 myself, the idea that there might be adults being attracted to a (physically) 13 character makes me uncomfortable. Let’s all be clear that both the reader and Five were, you know, actual grown ups in this one.

Description: Verified and recommended by his siblings, robotic mother and chimp caregiver(?), this is the best guide(since there is only one) to understanding how Five Hargreeves’ expresses love.

Wordcount: 1434

Playlist:

When The Day Met The Night//Panic! At the Disco

Perfect For You//Next to Normal

Making Love Out of Nothing At All//Air Supply

Here’s the thing, love can be very confusing to understand.

Even more confusing when the person involved was a time travelling assassin who spent 45 years in a post-apocalypse world with a mannequin being his only company. Things got even more complicated considering that said person travelled back in time to stop the apocalypse with his highly dysfunctional family, all of which suffered from severe childhood trauma. To sum up, the person (at this point the reader of this guide should probably be informed that when we said ‘person’, we are talking about Five Hargreeves) has no experience with being romantically involved with a living, breathing human (he would argue that the mannequin was responsive to him, to which you would nod and try your very best to resist making any remarks that might come out as offensive).

This guide is here for you, our dear reader who happens to end up in a relationship with this man under unknown circumstances that we will neither question nor judge since we already expect it to be rather strange (after all, it is Five you are dating), to understand Five Hargrevees’ many ways of expressing love.

1. No, don’t expect him to tell you directly

You see, words hold different meaning to different people. To some, it might be the most sacred words in the whole wide world while some people throw the phrase around like it’s a simple greeting. What we’re trying to say is, no matter how you feel about saying “I love you”, don’t be too hurt/shocked/bewildered when he don’t say it back. After all, that man was raised under a harsh condition and direct expressions of affection really wasn’t something that he got to receive very often. The many years of complete isolation from human contact and countless cases of murder did not help with our case at all. Therefore, if you were expecting direct verbal expressions, we are sorry to inform you that you will be very disappointed.

However, this does not mean that there are no signs of love and affection in his words. For instance, you might notice by now that he makes sure to greet you every morning when he sees you at the table. Although it might seems like a mundane thing to do, we would like to point out that he barely acknowledge his siblings’ presence on a daily basis i.e. he does not bother to.

Take for example, that morning when Klaus came over.

You walked down to the halls with the aroma of coffee in the air. You moved in with Five after dating him for a while and he always wakes up before you do, making sure that he does not disturb your sleep when he gets up (we would like to point out that this too, is a sign of love from him, see point 3 for further elaboration). You walked into the dining hall, surprised to see that instead of Five, it was his brother Klaus sitting at the table instead.

“Why good morning, future in-law.” You smiled at the way he addressed you, you do find Klaus to be a joyful company and it feels nice knowing that he accepts your existence in his brother’s life.

“Good morning to you too, Klaus.”

“I’m just here to see if Five can help me with... Oh! Here he is,” Klaus turned to look at your boyfriend who just entered the room with a jar of coffee in hand, “Morning, dear brother!”

You tried to hold back your wide grin, the over-the-top formality was almost reaching a comedic level. Five did not response to his brother’s cheery greeting. He walked over to your side and sat down next to you, mumbling a soft “good morning” in the process.

“Morning Five,” you replied, “did not sleep well last night?”

He hummed softly in between his sips of caffeine, giving you the answer you needed. You chuckled, “Klaus is here.” Five briefly looked up from his mug and poured himself another cup of coffee.

The three of you sat in silence with only the sound of him slurping his drink. “Wait,” he finally said after finishing his forth cup of coffee, “how long has Klaus been here?”

“Five, I swear to...”

You see, it is kind of like in The Princess Bride where “As you wish” held the same meaning to “I love you.” Well, we cannot argue that “Good morning” is nearly as romantic as that but, um, it’s the thought that counts we suppose.

2. He watches you a lot

Hm, that came out a lot creepier than we intended to. We swear that it is a lovely gesture on his behalf.

Now that we have point that out, you might recall that he does have habit of glancing at you ever so often. Whether you are right next to him or in another room. You might suspect that it is out of old habit from when he had to be observant of his surroundings to survive. Truth is, he simply likes watching you. No matter how much time he have spent with you, he continues to find your every move to be fascinating.

Move things forward and you’ll remember you first noticed that on a rainy day. It was pleasant, sitting on a couch with a book in your hands (Jane Austen? If you remember), hearing the raindrops tapped on the windows as you slowly flipped through the pages. Five was sitting next to you, a newspaper in hand (you like to make fun of how much his daily habits resembles those of an old man, to that he would scoff and protest that he did live a long life before).

Sometimes, you wished that you could spend every day like that. Hurdling a blanket on the couch, reading a book all while leaning on your boyfriend’s arm. Hearing the sound of the rain along with the soft noise of paper by your ears. You were so lost in your book that you did not even notice that the louder, heavier sound of newsprint stopped.

Sensing how stiff your waist was from the lazy posture, you put down the book to stretch your arms. You got up from the couch to find Five’s eyes fixed on you. “What are you looking at?” you jokingly said, resting your chin on his shoulder.

To your surprise, he did not try to brush it off with a witty comeback or pretend to be annoyed like you expected. Instead, he looked right into your eyes, “You.”

Feeling the heat creeping up on your face, you smacked his arm playfully and got up. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the corner of his lips tucked up ever so slightly.

3. He had a hard life, but he is trying

Even Five could not deny that he is messed up.

He never got to experience growing up, he simply aged. And no matter how hard he tried to mask it with his tough demeanor, there was no denying that all the things he had been forced into took a toll on him.

Five Hargreeves is by no means a gentle person. He could be impulsive, short tempered at times but he is trying to be better, he is trying to be better for you. Maybe you can see it in how he tried his very best to not wake you up in the morning as he knew that you stayed up too late watching that new show online or letting you hog the entire blanket in bed because he knows that you hate the cold. He is still trying to get used to not having to be defensive all the time, but at least he is trying.

(”You’re making me soft.”

“What’s wrong with being soft?”

“It’s weak.”

“You’re not weak, Five. In fact, you’re the strongest person I have ever known.”

“See, this is exactly what I meant.”)

There is a lot more we could discuss here, like how he always leave the lights on in the hallway when you are out late or that he would let his arms linger on your shoulder when you are pulling away from a hug. It is not much, some gestures might be so small that you could not even notice. But no matter how infuriating he could be and how oblivious you both are to the small signs of affection in each others’ every move, there is no doubt that he is truly, deeply in love with you. And that is something that you do not need a guide to tell you about.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five #five imagine #five x reader #number five #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy fanfiction #umbrella academy fanfic #umbrella academy imagine

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bma-2020 · 4 years

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Okiedok here’s the delio. I have a list of all the blogs from the last six months who’s actively either responded to a meme i sent, responded to a message ive sent, replied to something regarding mally herself, has actually written with me, written a starter for me from my liking a starter call, has at least liked a starter i wrote for them to awknowedge it exists, all that jazz, i have a lot of open field so it’s not just a possible tumblr didnt let them no option anymore, because i send memes to everyone who posts them that i see. I reply to most peoples ooc posts. I like most starter calls I pass by. I try my darndest to actually interact bc i know how it feels to be ignored and its… i’ve been called one before so i’m using the word, thats fluffing cunty behavior, and honestly if you complain about not being interacted with but never even try when i try with you, ya being cunty, end of. I gotta list. That list only entails Mally because she’s who I care about the most. I’m probably gonna start instilling a new rule in all my blogs that if you ignore Mally and/or Darcy( @tasedandconfused ), since I would say they’re my two main blogs tho darcy gets ignored even more than mally does, probably bc i denied canon and left it entirely we know fandom hates that, if either of them is ignored then… Ya out of luck, I’m gonna unfollow you. I’m debating soft blocking everyone who ignored me on both of them but I don’t want to like be mean and deny the chance to eventually try again but at the same time i shouldnt feel bad for taking a stand and saying this is bullsheet, idk my anxiety says im awful for giving a fluff about myself but also i should give a fluff about myself probably, ive nearly died in the last three months, my brain almost exploded, i just had three root canals on one corner of my face, i have to potentially get surgery on my inner ear which i cant even afford, i dont got time to deal with only being used for like smut memes or like as a resource blog or utter bs like that, i dont got time for it. So new rules here. 1: If Mally or Darcy are not acknowledged, written with, responded to, viewed as more than just their fluffing bodies? ya dropped, im unfollowing, potentially soft blocking, which means blocking and unblocking for those not in the know, on all accounts I follow you on. Every single one. I know most of my muses are on sideblogs but despite not being able to send memes from sideblogs you can block people from sideblogs fun fact, i will do that if i have to. 2: I’m gonna be posting SCs, PCs, memes, etc. I like and respond to plotting calls, starter calls, i send memes, all of that. If I don’t get any response within.. I’m giving one week for people who don’t run on a queue and a month and a half to people on a queue based system, if i dont get anything within that time like at least an im being like ‘its posted’ or ‘its queued i wanted to let you know in case tumblrs a fluffbutt’ (i do this sometimes if i dont get even just a like on the starters i post so i at least know people saw it since i know tumblrs bs, i wait until the day they’re active to do so in case theyre busy yknow) basically i need acknowledgment at all. No you can’t claim this is abt follower count bc when you unfollow someone they inevitably unfollow you too, thats gonna drop my following, not as quickly as soft blocking would but i wanna be fair i guess, which leads to: 3: I’m basing this on your activity too, like if i like a think and you’re gone for a month after that its fine, im not gonna unfollow you unless you never come back or youre online and posting others just not mine because that tells me youre specifically ignoring me and im gonna drop you for that end of. I’m done with the bullsheet im done w the dillish behavior, i love friendship but if im giving and never receiving thats extremely one way and not gonna work. I check through my follow list weekly and i go back about five-10 pages on someones feed before i unfollow them to see their actual activity and see if theyre here or if its a q so. I’m thorough basically. 4: You dont have to be active with me on all your blogs, i mean i’d prefer it but thats hard as fluff so essentially if you have like five blogs and are just like trying w me on two or three thats fine. Ten blogs, four or five with at least a plot formed is cool. Multis just one muse is all I’d need. I’m not gonna unfollow the blogs youre not writing w me on if you at least write w me on some. Again, specifically Mally and/or Darcy. If you ignore both of them, we’re done. I havent been active on darcy because of being ignored and its a huge butt mess and im just tired i wanna use my babies, you don’t get to have my ‘better’ muses like i know a lot of ppl only follow me for my boys or my villains, you don’t get them if you ignore my baby. But, there is a limit there too. 5: If you never respond to a meme or thread even once with Mally or Darcy, or post a starter, i reply, its never replied to again after a month, I’m unfollowing and/or soft blocking for that too. Bc that means youre just raising my hopes to fluff with me or get someone else and honestly, youre even more cunty than than the people just flat out ignoring me if you do that. And this isnt a specific person, this is five of the people actually on my list. Yes, my list is also annotated with specifics again I was very thorough on this yesterday, I hyperfixated I’ll admit it, I’m in a fluffing depressionary bubble and being told to get over it because people want something they dont deserve to have to. I am a believer that people deserve good things but if youre purposefully being cunty… no you dont. 6: No I’m not releasing my list, maybe I will and I’ll omit the urls because I don’t want people being buttholes to each other too but otherwise, yall not seeing it im not giving a callout because… really thats just unnecessary here. I don’t think yall are toxic people or something i just think yall are unintentionally being cunty. And no I don’t mean everyone that follows me i mean the ppl that add up to what i’ve documented so far and fit the bill of butthat that i’ve shown, its behaviors yall gotta check before ya wreck. Yes there will be some people who have priority, everyone has those people, I write w kathryn on other platforms since she doesnt go on here as often but when Kathryn returns from war here (if she does cause she also agrees most ppl on this platform are cunty, i feel really bad saying that word so often but im gonna keep doing it i recently deleted an ask saying I was a huge cunt for not sending someone smut memes when I didn’t even follow them or know they existed so, again the travesty of this place is nutballers) same with owly, alex is here too, my most active partners are always going to be priority because theyre the ones who show the most interest and the most care. I understand that with others as well which is why I have the timeframe set up, because I want to be as open and shizz as possible while atill being firm i guess. I don’t want to have extreme double standards like its impossible for double standards not to exist at least a little bit but I want to avoid a golden chest full of them I guess. 7: I don’t have a seven rn, this was an even number and it bothered me. Seven is nust my warning that I’m bittery writing this on mobile so formatting is not real but i tried my dandest to make this look like something people might actually mind. I dont want to be butty, i dont want to be awful, i dont want to start drama or have drama but that shizz comes around anyways so i might as well make my space as okay for me as i can cause im supposed to avoid stress so my brain doesnt almost explode again, like again i almost fluffing died i dont need ppl fake being my friend or anything, i want stuff to be real and clear. I want to be happy to be on here again and have fun like i used to since my health is plummetting and I’m not allowed to go outside near plants by myself anymore because i welt up. I have plants outside my work place and im surrounded by chemicals all day long I’m welted from here to new york constantly and never comfortable in my own skin because of it and constantly see people online acting like these actual real problems are pretentious because ‘its an excuse’ when, im a fluffing sagittarius, do you know how much i want to magically be a millionaire so i can pay for friends and my own medical stuff and go on traveling and adventures, be outside probably not camping bc as a pagan i know thats a death sentence but like be outside, lay on grass, go back to swimming because i used to swim competitively and due to health reasons i can barely even go in a pool anymore because theres too much sunlight which, bit plot twist i know, im fluffing allergic to vitamin D and the rays of the sun, so go figure, attempts to be healthy kill me more, i also cant eat most plants and am constantly dying from just eating food, they dont know whats wrong with me. i cant fix it by going ve/gan for a month inf act i tried and it almost made my heart stop thanks society. These arent excuses these are the lives of disabled and diseased and to a lesser but still very real point, ethnic lives every fluffing day. This is real shit and its murder and online and gaming? It may be all I have soon since I can’t just go out and make new friends cause, again, I’d fluffing die. I get sick going to the mall or the movie theater, I miss theme parks so much but have to minimize it to weeks i dont have work so i dont get fired for having a welt while working in the beauty industry. I may have to get a degree online and change my field entirely because of my illness that nobody understands. People even make fun of it constantly online and I wish I could just drop online entirely because of how unbelievably ableist the entirety of the world is, i wish i could drop humans in general for their ableism, but i cant. I don’t have choices in most cases, but throwing away people who maybe purposefully maybe unintentionally thats why i’m giving you this warning and will be repeating this warning for awhile, this is where i have choice. I have to use what little choice I have in life while I can since everytime i go to movies or a concert or a theme park i almost die because of not having an immune system that functions or being in certain air qualities pr being near plants or unclean people, I may not have much time and I gotta do whats best for what little mental health I have, and if that means dropping people i care about and really want to write with and do things with but who ignore me then, i guess so be it.

#out.#illness cw #health cw #food mention #ive been writing this since noon and its now two pm so this is great #i’s usually put this under a read more but... maybe most people dont deserve a read more rn lol #their behavior will keep being awful if its not pointed out to them so #im done im gonna go welt up from hugging my cat and cry for a bit because i feel mean

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crappyfics · 5 years

Text

Blue Dress [part 2]

A/N: This one came upon request. Shout out to raywishii for loving this story with all their heart and encouraging me to write the part 2. (not tagging to avoid glitch).

After that phone call, Sehun showed up at your door looking quite unsettled and tired. But when he saw your soft and sleepy face, his features softened as well. He sighed through his nose before stepping forward and into your apartment. His familiar way of walking across your living room and making himself comfortable reminded you of the times his visits were often and didn’t mean anything but just a visit.

For as much as you loved the man who was then seated on your couch, you couldn’t feel quite alright about his late night visit. It wasn’t like a few years ago when you were both college students and the only thing you worried about was your grades. Back then, you had no one to go home to, you had only the night to live through and spend time together as if the night would never end. It was easier, it was lighter, but it was gone. Having Sehun in your apartment now meant something completely different and sometimes it was awkward. Maybe the two of you weren’t ready yet to acknowledge the shift in your friendship but it was there, it was loud and it was screaming at your face. But the way he was stiff on your couch brought you back to the given moment to focus on him, forgetting completely how sleepy you were.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said but you didn’t believe he was actually sorry for it. You nodded and made your way to the couch, sitting beside him and crossing your legs on the seat trying to keep your warmth. The thick pants of the pajamas helped a lot in the cold nights. “I thought you wouldn’t mind me coming over.”

“I don’t,” you replied. “I just didn’t expect it.” Sehun nodded in response and paused for a minute or so to put himself together before he could speak again. He was confused and disturbed, still very conflicted with the latest events at his own apartment. And your apartment, your couch, the smell of your laundry detergent weren’t helping him at all. Your sleepy voice also had a great effect on him. “Sehun?” your voice pulled his attention back to you who was right beside him rather then the vision of you he had in his imagination.

“She yelled at me today,” as he spoke he crossed his legs copying your position. It seemed as if he was protecting himself from his own words but you knew he was replaying the scene in his head over and over. “I thought I could make her happy, that we would be happy together. But now I’m not so sure anymore.”

It still pained you when he spoke about her. You thought that over the years it would have gotten easier, less painful, but you were wrong and it still cut through you very roughly. You used to think that you would get used to them dating, then you told yourself you would get used to them being married, but time had passed and you never got used to Sehun not being yours. You knew you were selfish, and bitter, and jealous. You knew all that but it didn’t mean you didn’t work hard to overcome those ugly feelings. After all, you still were Sehun’s best friend and at least that post no one could take away from you.

You were eager to hug him, you wanted to comfort him bringing his head to your chest and caressing his hair through your fingers. But you didn’t know how he would feel about it, it was weird not knowing how to behave around him anymore now that he was married. It had been like that for a little over a year and still you were clueless. For as much as you were indifferent for Hyerin, you still respected her and her relationship with Sehun. You didn’t think she would be okay with you being so touchy with her husband and so intimate with him in ways that made her insecure. Even if it was at your apartment, alone with the man beside you, you couldn’t just ignore her existence completely. But at the same time, it made you think of what Sehun had in mind. When he came over to see you, what did he have in mind when he left his wife behind because things got tough and he couldn’t handle the situation? When he came running to you, was it because he wanted to escape and go back into your embrace like in the old times when he got scared, or was him just doing it out of a better option? You couldn’t quite tell yet.

“I don’t know what to say,” you spoke after a while. He looked down at you, face so languid in a way you haven’t seen before. “I don’t think I am the best person to help you with it, Sehun.” you admit with a sigh and in your head you pat yourself on the back for being strong enough to admit your weaknesses. You were afraid you would only help him in favor of you egotistical desires. It was best he believed you were just inexperienced in the subject.

“I think I made a mistake,” he said getting closer to you. He didn’t dare looking into your eyes but he needed to feel your warmth a little more. “And I don’t know how to fix it. I am trapped in my own mistake, you know? I tried to be the best husband, the best friend, the best listener. I even go beyond my limits to get Hyerin what she wants. But she doesn’t trust me and for some reason I don’t trust myself either.” he confesses letting out a heavy sigh that indicated the charge his words carried. You observed him and the way he looked down never looking up to meet your gaze. He played with the fabric of your pajama pants, drawing the little circles over your knee. It was hard for him to put himself in that situation, feeling so vulnerable yet feeling as if that at this point it was useless trying to pretend otherwise.

“I know you tried,” you said caressing his head for the first time and letting the texture of his hair make you travel back in time to when things were plain simple. “I wanna say I understand, but I don’t think I do.”

“There are things I don’t understand either,” he continues on your note. “I thought everything would be much more clear after the wedding, after moving in together, after a year of the same routine. But I feel more confused now. I thought… I thought I loved her.”

You weren’t sure what he was talking about anymore. There was so much being said yet so many unsaid things. You had your attention solely on him and on his fingers that traced the circled pattern on your pajama pants. For once it felt like in college, but the way your conversion was taking all possible twists and turns, you realized you’ve grown older, therefore, things had shifted not only in your friendship, but also emotionally.

“I spent so much time trying to make sure she loved me, making sure she was not gonna leave me, that I forgot I also had to love her back. But I couldn’t.” your heart fluttered with every word he said. The small ball of hope in your heart you thought had died, was still there and now it manifested against your rib-cage. But it was bold of you think that you had a chance with Sehun. If he didn’t love Hyerin, his wife, the woman he chose to spend the rest of his life with, you had no chance of being loved by him. A rush of lucidity hit you, reminding you that this wasn’t about you, Sehun’s problem wasn’t about you, and if your best friend’s relationship was in danger you were morally responsible to help him sort things out. You had to leave your intentions aside, your frustrations too. It wasn’t about you, it was about Sehun and Hyerin.

“I don’t make much sense anymore,” he scoffed and shook his head trying to reorganize his thoughts. But it was useless, everything was already pretty messy. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Love can take different forms sometimes. We love our family, our friends, our pets, a song, a food… You can love anything, anyone. Who you love, and how much you love them are things you can’t control,” you spoke softly. You maintained your voice low just loud enough for him to hear you. He felt your breath on his cheek and for as much as he wanted to look up right now, he couldn’t find the courage to do it. He was afraid of what he would do next after he met your attentive eyes. Your hand on his shoulder wasn’t not helping him focusing on your words solely. “I’m sure you love her,” you continued. “You’ve given up time, dreams, and… people in order to be with her. I don’t see where you committed a mistake if there is love where you at.”

Sehun sighed unsure if he understood your speech. He took in every word and processed each one of them carefully. But his heart was so loud, so confused that it messed with his thoughts. His heart knew what it wanted, it wanted the love he’s been craving for ages. His brain wanted to do what was right, what was clean and easy and simple. His brain wanted to fix his already broken relationship. But his heart wasn’t willing to work hard on an already failed marriage. He didn't know what to do, but he knew how he felt and this confusion was only making him anxious.

Though, you were anxious as well. You were doing what was right. You decided to follow your brain, because your heart was too naive to help you with anything. You were giving the advice he needed to hear but also the advice you needed to follow. Take the love you have, and hold it for dear life. Don’t let it go, don’t lose it. And you understood it as letting Sehun be… once again, letting him go. His friendship was the only kind of love you believed he could give you

“Is it normal that I love someone else more than her?” like a child, he asked you the question. This time, he took a deep breath and grew the courage to look up at you. His finger stopped tracing the patterns and his tired eyes observed you attentively. Your hand still on his shoulder felt awkward so you dropped it to your lap. He took your hand back towards him but now holding it between his own. “Do you remember at my wedding when I ran late? I was scared. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing it because I knew I would regret it. I couldn’t see myself with Hyerin for the rest of my life. I couldn’t even see myself with her for another year since then.”

“Yet, here you are,” you said. But he shook his head knowing that whatever you meant by it, you were absolutely wrong. He was ready to continue and to say what he had stuck in his chest for so long. It didn’t matter if you were trying to dodge that bullet because you felt guilty, his hands held you close to him so you wouldn’t escape.

“My dad dragged me to the ceremony. It was awful, I wanted to puke. Even if I wanted to scream and turn back not to attend my own wedding, I arrived at the church. And when I saw you there, in that blue dress, I just knew I was making a mistake.”

You held a gasp in your throat. You voice was too shy to make itself present, you were surprised. It never occurred to you that you would even be in such situation. You never thought that Sehun would walk on a tightrope like this, putting his everything at risk. But Hyerin wasn’t his everything, she never was. She was just available. And she was emotionally available when you weren’t, when you didn’t look his way, when you never expressed your feelings for him so he got the memo not to express his feelings either. He didn’t know that you were also struggling from the other side this whole time. It was all just a big mistake, you started to think. It was just a huge lack of communication. You both feared being rejected, you both feared losing the friendship. You both, at different times, thought it was just a crush. But when the feelings developed and flourished, you knew this wasn’t just gonna go away. It stayed. And it stayed even when he had to love somebody else, it stayed when you saw him loving Hyerin.��

“This is probably not the best timing, nor the best way to tell you that all this time I’ve been thinking of you. But if I didn’t say it now, I would go back home to someone I don’t love and live with the bitter taste of the “ifs”.” He said still holding your hands in his. “And I wanna say I understand if you don’t feel the same way but I would be lying because I desperately want you to tell me you do too.”

“I love you, Sehun,” you managed to say ever so weakly. You were shaking in his hands, you were scared it was just a dream. You were scared he would think his confession was also another one of his mistakes. But he smiled when he heard you, a smile that didn’t take up all his lips but it was there, weak and tired yet relieved. One of his hands made its way to your neck resting there for a little while. You watched his eyes twinkle in a magical way, a way you’ve never seen before. You felt warm inside.

“I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you.” You continued. “It was hard before for me to confess it, and it still is. Even worse now that you’re married and things are messy.” his hand caressed your neck encouraging you to continue. He wanted you to tell him everything you felt because suddenly all his conflicted thoughts started to make some sense. “My feelings for you have always been there, hidden behind the lies I told myself.”

“No need to hide anymore. I love you too, I’ve always did. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything about it earlier,” he breathed, “I used to lie to myself too…” he explained bringing his face closer to yours. You both closed your eyes and enjoyed the proximity that was absolutely tender. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What do we do now?” you asked after a moment. Now that things were revealed, now that you both acknowledged the elephant in the room, you still were unsure of what to do next. What about Hyerin? About their doomed relationship? What about you? What about your love for him that was locked in your heart for so long and was eager to come out? It all depended on Sehun now, only him could do anything about all that mess. You felt his forehead on yours and his breath fanning on your face. For the first time in your life, it felt real, it felt like he finally was yours and yet he wasn’t.

“I’ll fix things now. Now that I know who I belong with…” he whispered back and you could hear his small giggle coming through his nose. You had a smile on your face, also small and exhausted but genuine and hopeful.

“I love you,” you whispered even lower than before.

“I love you too.”

#sehun #oh sehun #sehun imagine #sehun fanfic #exo #exo imagine #exo fanfic #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop fanfic

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lilaclily00 · 5 years

Text

The Party That Went From Haunted to Worse: A Summerween Tale

Danny hates his life sometimes. And ghost portals. And his little sister. It’s a mistake going anywhere with her.

-_-_-_

I thought this was going to just... never see the light of day like most of my WIPs, but AU!Ghost August (Day 11: Crossover) gave me the drive to actually continue, finish, and post this monstrosity. Thanks for the excuse to put this out to the world!

This is the original post for the OC, and here’s the link to this story on AO3.

There's some Zalgo Text in here, so at the end I’ll have the... translations? Is that the right word? It looks better in AO3, though. :(

Thank you for helping me with this, @goinggoblin!!!

LET’S GOOO

-_-_-_ (I don’t think there’s horizontal lines anymore? Yikes)

Dani—known as Ellie around here—handed over the last of the fake spider-webbing. “There you go, Mabel.”

Mabel cheerfully thanked her from the ladder rungs, then turned back to stick it to the wall. “Now time for the paper stuff!”

“Are you sure it's okay to just...” Danny gestured around at the incomplete decorations strung around the designated party room.

Mabel waved him off over her shoulder, tacking up a cutesy paper skeleton onto the wall with her other hand, then a sheet ghost next to it. “Of course! We invited you!”

Ellie nudged Danny—well, it was much too hard of an elbowing to be classified as a nudge by most people, but not for them. “Lighten up, bro. It's not very often you get to go to parties, right?”

“Yeah. I know.” He knew she didn't mean his popularity—the fact it didn't exist—but that he just didn't have the time or energy for it most of the time. He wouldn't have gone to anything like this if she hadn't dragged him along as an excuse to take a break from ghost hunting.

Back in junior year, she’d sent him letters and photos from one of her longest stops in her travels, a dinky town called Gravity Falls, Oregon. She became good friends with a pair of twins around her age there, and they all stayed in touch afterwards. The twins invited her to hang out plenty since then, but this was the first time she told Danny to come along.

He had a complicated relationship with Halloween, considering the Fright Knight incident and all the kids and even adults that had started dressing up as Phantom (to varying levels of success and cringe). However, he had to admit he was intrigued with the idea of Summerween, especially when it was so far from Amity Park that its ghosts and fanbase would be very unlikely to interfere.

Even just thinking that, though, made him wonder if he just jinxed himself.

“Mabel,” they heard her twin call from the residential part of the Mystery Shack, “there's something wrong with the wig!”

Mabel shook her spiky, blue-haired head, hands on her red-uniformed hips. “No, there isn't! I would know!” She wagged her finger towards the visiting pair. “I'll go help him, so don't go anywhere!” She ran off, nearly tripping over her own costume.

“They really like to play up the twin thing, huh?” Danny asked his little sister in the silence. Someone had to acknowledge that the party's hosts were dressing up as Thing 1 and Thing 2. (He wasn’t sure what kinds of friends he suspected Ellie would make, but these two were a surprise.)

“At least they don't feel the need to be a walking pun at every opportunity,” she retorted, flipping back her Batman cape dramatically.

“I always am a walking pun. This is my truest self!” Danny gestured to his own costume, a classic zombie attire with green skin and fake blood everywhere.

“Har har.”

He looked over at the little pile of “spooky” images waiting on the top of the ladder, and took his pick of a large paper spider. He glanced back to the doorway where the twins disappeared off to, and quickly floated up to tape it to the ceiling with a grin.

“How are you going to explain how you got that there?” she giggled as he hovered back at her side.

“I won’t,” he replied smugly, touching ground. Just in time, too, as both Dipper and Mabel reappeared, now with their outfits and hair matching.

Mabel chirped, “If you guys help me with these last touches, this place will be perfect just in time for the party!”

Dipper fiddled with his sleeves, giving her a crooked smile. “At your orders, Mabes.”

-_-_-_

Danny was surprised by how many people actually showed up to what he expected to be a relatively small affair. Dipper had informed him that he and his sister lived in California for most of the year; despite that, it seemed the pair were very popular in their second home, Gravity Falls. Mabel introduced him to several of her friends, shouting over the loud pop music booming out the speakers, and he didn’t remember a single name.

Da—Ellie, he kept forgetting to call her that—was familiar with quite a few people, too. She stuck close to her big brother, though, until he ordered her to hang out with her friends instead. He appreciated the sentiment, but he could handle being by himself at a party.

Right?

He tried to dance for a few songs, but it wasn’t feeling natural. He then went to the refreshment tables for a jack-o-lantern cupcake. Maybe he needed to try to socialize after all. Hm, that one redheaded girl Mabel introduced to him seemed cool. He scanned the area for her face—

Wait.

His eyes narrowed, studying the long white hair halfway across the room. It wasn’t as glowy as usual, but he’d know that hair anywhere. He pocketed the cupcake wrapper and pushed his way through the crowd. Finally, his ghost sense said something as he crossed the dance floor.

"Hey, ghost girl!" he shouted over the music. Her head turned 180 like an owl, pigtails following slightly slower than physics demanded, then she calmly turned the rest of her body to him. Her ever-present blank, wide-eyed stare bored into him, and never strayed, as she easily swerved around the dancing kids toward him. He noticed that she made an effort of walking on the ground rather than floating.

"Hi, zombie," she replied, the slightest smile on her face showing she knew exactly who she was talking to. She was never really scared of him or angry at him. If anything, she seemed to like talking to him. He supposed it was because he was among the closest to her physical age in the Ghost Zone.

He was not going to be friendly, though, and showed it by crossing his arms at her. "What are you doing here?"

She clasped her hands behind her back. "I’d like to ask you that. You hardly ever leave your lair.”

Danny scrunched his eyebrows, then glanced around in case anyone heard her. “Do you mean Amity Park?”

“Yeah.”

He frowned warily. Considering their past interactions, it seemed like a genuinely curious question. She wasn’t the type to use his absence as a chance to cause chaos back home. (If only the other ghosts were the same way.) “I got invited to hang out here for the weekend. And I don’t think it counts as my lair.”

“I think it does,” she replied with the barest of shrugs, still staring at him, unblinking. “I’m here ‘cause a door opened up in the woods right by here," she added. "There was a flyer for this party taped up on a tree. It said there was gonna be cookies."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "You can't even eat human cookies." She finally blinked as that registered, and her gaze broke to look at the ground as she wilted under the weight of her disappointment. Drama queen. "And I know you're planning to scare the kids here, if you haven't already started. C'mon, let's go."

"What?" She flicked her eyes back up to him, igniting a small light in her irises, disrupting her otherwise unglowy appearance. Her entire face slowly, ever so slowly, began to twist clockwise on her head. "It's Summerween!"

He held up a hand; he knew exactly what she was going to argue. "I know it's like Halloween, but it's still the wrong date. We agreed on no mass hauntings outside of October 31st."

Her eyebrows just so slightly scrunched, about the closest she could get to looking angry. "This isn't a very big party."

He had to give her that; it was bigger than he expected, but still only a few dozen, which potentially wasn't enough to count as a mass of people. And everyone here was around their age, which was less worrying than her chasing down little kids just for a laugh.

Her big, empty eyes were unsettling, yet they nearly pleaded with him. He couldn't stand when she did that. He rubbed the side of his face in defeat, forgetting for a second about his zombie makeup. "Oh, fine! Only in this party. And nothing too scary. Otherwise, you go right into the thermos."

"Sounds good to me," she chirped, mouth curled into a small smile by her ear instead of her chin.

"Oh, do you guys know each other?" Danny glanced over to see the hosts themselves come from behind him. He turned back, tapping his cheek at the ghost. She knew the signal, and covered her face to recover its natural orientation.

"Kind of," he told Dipper.

The ghost girl uncovered her face, and smiled shyly at the twins. "I'm Lily. Nice to meet you." Danny raised his eyebrows at her; this whole time, she had an actual name?

"I'm Mabel! Lily, I love your costume!" Mabel squealed, hands smushing her own face. "You're so cute and creepy and ah!"

"Yeah, you did a great job," Dipper added, quiet admiration on his face as he quickly studied her appearance. Danny guessed he was wondering why the wig and body paint looked so realistic. Mabel did a fantastic job with their own costumes, but it was hard to make poofy, blue wigs not look like wigs. "I'm Dipper, by the way."

"You should totally enter the costume contest!" Mabel added, hands hovering, as if itching to reach out and inspect Lily's dress. "It’s later tonight!"

"Oh, maybe I will," she said, eyes flickering between the twins. They fixed onto Dipper when he had looked back up to her face. After a few seconds of an impromptu staring contest, Dipper turned his eyes away, blinking and glancing at Danny, unsure of himself.

Mabel seemed to not have noticed, as she continued rambling to Lily, who patiently listened, empty eyes directed back to Mabel and small smile held up.

"She takes Halloween——er, and Summerween costumes very seriously," Danny told Dipper. "Pretty sure she'll try to creep the crap out of everybody here."

"Well, seems like she's actually good at it," the boy admitted with an awkward chuckle. "But hey, that's what this holiday is for, right?"

-_-_-_

Lily was right there, right in plain sight, swaying to the music by herself, but Danny knew she wasn’t as innocent as she looked. Even now, she was beginning her haunting.

It was just little stuff. There were a few small spiders on the fake webs, real ones. The door opened automatically for newcomers. The jack-o-lantern cupcakes, once all smiling, now had one smiling evilly in the center of the platter while the rest wore a fearful frown. She was staring blankly at Dipper at every opportunity.

Danny had fetched his thermos soon after their conversation and clipped it to his belt. He tried to distract himself by talking to people, like the girl that turned out to be named Wendy, and bopping his head to the background beat. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but keep his eye on her and her effects. Why did his problems from home have to follow him everywhere? Why did he have to jinx himself?

He felt his sister ram into his back. "Danny, I sensed a ghost!"

"Yeah, so did I. It’s the white-haired girl. I worked out a deal with her," he immediately replied, sigh heavy and beyond his years.

Da—Ellie slowly shifted into a suspicious frown. "Wait, what? What kind of deal?"

"She gets to haunt the party for the night, and will peacefully return to the Ghost Zone after." Danny wilted under her glare. "Look, sh-she's even less harmless than the Box Ghost. She's all about the scare factor, doesn't try to hurt anyone—well, maybe makes them lose their sleep if they can't handle horror movies, but still. If I don't compromise here, she'll go for much bigger plans later to spite me. I promise I know what I'm doing!"

"Since when have you known what you're doing?" She shook her head, surely knowing how very offended he was by her comment. "This just doesn't sound like you, bro."

He shrugged exaggeratedly. "She doesn't operate the same way as most ghosts."

“So that made it okay to let loose a prankster ghost on these people?”

“Well, geez, it sounds terrible if you put it like that.”

She shook her head at him again before turning away with a dramatic cape twirl. He suddenly realized she does that at him a lot.

-_-_-_

Something was off.

Dipper had made all the necessary precautions for a Summerween party he could think of. He had left anti-magic wards hidden around the house—not unicorn hair strong, but still effective against most of what could possibly threaten a gathering like this. He’d cleared out the trash cans so the gnomes would have no reason to stick around. He locked up Gompers in the attic (he never proved to be dangerous, but that goat was terrifying).

But then when he went to take a break by a cobwebbed corner, he found real spiders on it. A lot of real spiders. The party lights, which were supposed to change color every few seconds, got stuck on red when he passed by them. The doors creaked open ominously when anyone came near them. He went to pour out some fruit punch, and the dispenser screamed when he pressed on it.

Every time he noticed one of these things, he glanced around him and immediately found that ghost girl staring straight at him.

Dipper ran to check the nearest ward, but it was still intact. However, there was something written next to it on the wall, in red.

You think you can keep me out?

Well, that wasn’t good.

The only suspect so far was the girl—Lily, right? Perhaps she wasn’t just dressed up as a ghost after all. But she looked too solid to be a ghost, though he hadn’t seen anyone actually try to touch her yet, and these things that were happening just didn’t have the same MO as the ghosts described in the Journals or those he faced in the past. But what other kinds of supernatural creatures could do things like this? Which ones would?

Mabel poked his shoulder, startling him enough that he bumped against the wall. She didn’t laugh, however, her attention focused on his wig. Eyes narrowed, she slowly said, “Dipper, is there blood in your hair?”

He ripped the wig off his head. Red liquid seeped out of its roots, matting down the poofed hair. He hesitantly touched a finger to it and sniffed. It smelled like copper.

Mabel pulled her own off, and found the same result. Face scrunched up in disgust, she tossed it to him and ran off to the bathroom. He could hear the door creak much louder than normal even from here.

Lily was staring at him, a blank smile on her face.

A part of him chastised himself for coming to conclusions too fast, but what other conclusion was there? And performing an exorcism, if it came to that, wouldn’t hurt something that wasn’t a ghost, right?

Clearly, what he needed to do next was talk to this girl, find out her motives before her little act became big. Just in case, though, he’d need to pull out that new silver mirror first.

-_-_-_

Amity Park and Gravity Falls were not very similar, but Danny realized there was something in common between their townsfolk: they were somewhat clueless. Not that he eavesdropped that much into the different conversations on the edges of the dance floor, but it seemed hardly anyone had noticed the odd tension in the air, the invisible slimy feeling on their skin of the supernatural hiding in their midst. Something coming.

Or, well, that that paper spider he stuck to the ceiling had grown several times its original size and crawled over one of the ceiling lights.

Ellie was consoling Mabel, who stood by the refreshments without her wig on. She glanced over to him a couple times just to glare.

He was trying to not keep his focus on Lily too much for his own sanity, but his eyes didn’t listen to his brain. They kept roaming the crowd to keep track of her. She looked like she wasn’t doing anything, but…

The eyes of the various wall decorations followed him wherever he went. Distant screaming could barely be heard over the music, if he tried to listen, but it came from nowhere. More spiders poured out of abandoned plastic cups. (She really liked that aesthetic, apparently.)

He only caught her in the act once at the refreshments table: she studied one of the Halloween-colored M&M cookies in her hand and threw it into her mouth. After a second, she pulled it back out, staring at it like it was the cause of all her problems. She disintegrated the cookie she couldn’t eat. When she turned away, all the other cookies had turned into oatmeal raisin.

How evil.

“Hey, Danny?”

He blinked and turned to see Wendy. She quirked her eyebrow at him. “What’s got you making that constipated face?”

He blinked at her even harder and she laughed. He huffed, scratching at his hair. “There’s just weird stuff going on.”

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, “this party’s totally haunted.”

“Actually—” He had enhanced hearing, and he still wasn’t sure he heard that right. “Yeah, it is. You noticed?”

“Well, it was kinda hard to ignore.” She nodded to herself. “I thought I heard creepy laughing coming from the bathroom and there was nobody there. ‘I’m here’ was written on the mirror in blood, though. Once I came back out, more stuff just kept popping up. There’s definitely a ghost.”

Danny frowned. “And… why aren’t you freaked out?”

“Well, same reason you aren’t. Dipper’s gonna take care of it.”

Alarm bells rang in his head, drowning out that distant screaming. “What do you mean ‘take care of it’?”

She tilted her head quizzically. “Don’t you already know him? This is totally Dipper’s thing, knowing about the supernatural and saving people from it. He already took down ghosts before. He’s probably getting everything ready for an exorcism or something right now.”

Exorcism. Exorcism. His skin crawled at that word. Ellie was friends with a kid that performed exorcisms in his spare time?

He remembered that Lily had been pulling that constant-stare thing on Dipper before. She had stopped at some point, which meant Dipper was out of sight, which meant maybe he really was planning something to get rid of her. Permanently.

Wendy said, “Hey, man, you okay?” just loud enough to bring him back out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, uh, just need to find Dipper,” he muttered, turning away and quickly searching the room for his face. Where was that kid, where was he, where was he—?

He hadn’t noticed that the music had slowly quieted down until Mabel was shouting by the DJ table. “Hey, everybody! We’re gonna start the costume contest in five minutes! Come over here if you wanna be in it!” The lights flickered for a couple seconds. “Oh, that’s new! We’ll get Soos to fix ‘em!”

Okay, there’s Mabel. Where there’s Mabel, there’s likely a Dipper. Or maybe an Ellie. He figured he should probably talk to her, too, even if she’ll give him that look again, wondering how she shared the exact same DNA with his doofus self.

-_-_-_

Mabel watched as the chatter grew louder with her hands on her hips. “There you go, Dipdop, I moved up the contest. The sacrifices I make to my carefully planned schedules for you!” She turned back to the playlist and rose the volume. The song sounded strangely distorted and screechy and demented, causing everyone to cover their ears. She quickly stopped the music. “But I guess you’re right that things are getting out of hand.”

Yes, he was. The freaky little instances seemed to have gotten worse in the few minutes he had spent grabbing the mirror and Journal 3 upstairs. The fastest way to find the ghost: have her come to him.

Grenda and Candy came running up in their matching “party animals” costumes, along with a couple other kids they barely knew. Danny rushed to the table, eyes wide and much more awake than any zombie had the right to be. Dipper opened his mouth, about to turn that into an actual joke, but Danny beat him.

“Do you know anything about ghosts?” The words practically tumbled out of Danny’s mouth.

Dipper raised his eyebrows. “Well, yeah.”

“And how to defeat them?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your plan?”

Dipper considered Danny’s strangely serious face. Then, he said, “Make her come out, find out her motives and if there’s something we can do to make her leave. Trap her away if she doesn’t want to, and exorcise her as a last resort.”

Danny set his frown grimmer and grimmer as he spoke. The lights flickered. “I think you need to reconsider the severity of this haunting. I can’t let you—”

Click.

The lights all went out, and the room was an inkier black than it should’ve been on a warm summer Oregon night. Large objects screeched as they dragged across the floor, bumping into people. Dipper felt something crawl over his feet, heard the table in front of him slide away. Just over the random yelps and screams of the attendees, a dark laughter rang.

They flicked back on. The tables, speakers, and party lights were all randomly located throughout the room. The attendees were stunned to silence, taking some seconds before their chatter began anew as they inspected their new surroundings.

A girl with a white wig (it had to be her real hair) and painted blue skin (she didn’t have skin) slipped through the crowd, glancing between the three with that little smile gracing her face. “Can I join the costume contest?”

Dipper couldn’t stop himself from setting a glare on her, gripping tighter the silver mirror behind his back. Mabel, who had more tact, plastered a grin on and said, “Of course! I invited you to do it, didn’t I?”

Lily nodded and quietly took her place by Candy, who was not the only contestant staring at her warily. She ignored them all, eyes unfocused as she fiddled with one of her pigtails.

Dipper glanced back over to Danny from the corner of his eye. “I think you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told him quietly. “Just let me do my job.”

“Your job?” Danny hissed in return, far more offended than Dipper expected him to be. “Just let me talk to her—”

“What, do I look like I haven’t done this before?”

Danny tugged at his hair. “Listen to me! You need to change your plan!”

All the paper decorations promptly dropped from the walls, fluttering to the floor, except for the cutesy ghosts.

Mabel shouted over their quiet arguing, “Last call if you want to be in the contest!”

Ellie strode up, determination in her footsteps as she lined up beside Lily.

-_-_-_

Now that the music wasn’t playing, Danny could see people inspecting their surroundings a little more. Now that she wasn’t hidden among the crowd, Danny could see a few of those people second-guess Lily, watching her rock back and forth on her feet with a calculating eye. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. If there was anyone else here like Dipper...

He had to give up on talking sense into the kid because the contest was starting. Mabel was doing it by applause, and he couldn’t hear anything else over it.

Mabel wrote down on a notepad (though he had no clue what she’d be writing down), nodding thoughtfully to herself. “Looks like it’s between Count Dracula,” she shouted, gesturing with her pen to a kid in an elaborate vampire costume then to Lily, “and the ghost! One more vote decides the winner!”

The other contestants moved aside, but not too far. Ellie glanced over to Danny as she stepped back a couple feet. She was planning something, he knew it. With how mad she was at him, he had the distinct feeling he should be running for what remained of his life.

Dipper pulled Danny’s arm back as the applause rang again. When it stopped, he spoke in a dangerously low voice. “You said you knew her. You said she would try to scare everyone.”

Danny bit his lip for a second. “I did say something like that, huh?”

Quiet fury grew in Dipper’s eyes. “Well, fine. If you’re not going to do anything—” The rest was drowned out by the applause roaring up again, startled shouts mixed in as the lights flickered again, but Danny could guess, and his heart dropped to his stomach as Dipper turned away without giving him a chance to reply.

“Dracula wins!” Mabel announced, and a cheer rose up once again. “But the rest of you were great, too!”

Ellie stepped back up to Lily when the claps died back down. “Sorry you lost,” she said.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she replied amicably. “It wouldn’t really be fair if I won, anyway. I’m not a̙͈ ͖̩̠̬c̯͔̼t͚̮̗̙u̟͖͕a̻͙ ̼ll͙̙͎y̹ ̬͔̣̻̣w̠e̞̤ͅ ̪̖̦̤͍ͅ ̥ar͙͈i͈̳̰̜n̪̼̮ ͈ ̟̫͍̰͍ͅg̱ͅ ̟ ̦͇͓̻̹͇̼ ̝̯̦ ̹̬̟̱ ̭͈̠͇̟͖ ̗̤̯̮̭ a̬̯̰̦̞̪ͅ ̣̜͖ͅ ̬͚̪̫͎̰ c̫̗ ̜͕͕͇̤ ̤o ̥̮̺s̹̜͕͇t̬̘̮̼ ̗̞̥̣̖̼ ͇ ̣͓̹ u̹͖̙͙͇̠ ̼͉͓̰͙ ̝̯͍͙͍͓ ̭ ̤ ̖̠̠̙͖̮͕ ̜͔͔̮ ̖ ͚̤ͅ ̤ ̪̤̖͓̘͉ͅ ̭̳̜m̦̼̲̫ ̲̫͔̳̮͎ ̖̩̝̙̦͇ ̲̯̠͙̬ ̝ ̠͔̼͈͖ ̰̹ ̘͎̺̗ ̳̠̫̳̻̥ ̥͚̙͈̠͙ ̪̖͎̳̻ ͔͉̰͈̳ ̠ ͇̺̫ ͚̲̻̥͚͎̣ ̖̫̖̭ͅͅ ̩ ̩e͙͍͎̙̺̜.͇͍̩”

Lily’s hair and dress floated, revealing blobs of ectoplasm instead of legs. The lights went out, then returned in a dim, red hue. She was already up in the air, eyes glowing, face twisting. She raised her arms, and objects began to float at her command. Attendees screamed, almost loud enough to not hear the unsettling laughter coming from all sides. A couple of them tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“Hey!” Dipper shouted as he ran to her. He was holding a… small mirror? “What do you want, ghost?”

She abruptly turned her head to him, face upside-down. Her voice had a demonic overtone as she replied, “T͍̝o̗͙ͅ ̥m͈a͕̲k̶̼͙̻e̼̟̼ ̳̱y̨o҉͎̹u͔͇̬͟ ̼s̹̙cr͉̦͇̮̭͇͡e̺͓͖̱̤̗a̪͙͓̩̮͟m͢.͎̮̳̱̬̯”

“Come on, there has to be something else,” he insisted, hand gripping the mirror harder. Danny inched his way; that mirror had to be a trap of some kind, and he wasn’t going to let Dipper use it—not when Danny didn’t know if he could get her back out of it.

“I know what you don’t want,” Ellie shouted, holding out a Fenton Thermos. Wait—Danny felt for the thermos on his belt. It was gone. She stole his thermos. How did he not notice until now?!

Lily stared her down, but she didn’t look scared. “Y̘o̺͎͖̱u̖̜̳̭̺ ̸̣̭̥̦͉̙̭s̝͢h̨o͙̞u̠͓̰̙͉l̡͉̠̗̣̥̗d̯̩̮̦̯͎̗’̨v̰̘̹͞e̙͉̘̦̱ ̶̙us̻̩̪͎̝̯e̯̱̜̬̮̝̫d͕͢ ì̟t̗̻̬̯͕̪͘ ̝͉w̹̤̫h̞̼̫̹̘̲͍͢e̖ņ̦̹̬̣̫̱ ̗̟̺y̵̬̤͖͓̖o̰̯̪̟̼̥u̟̩̰̙͢ ̝̖͕̗́h̪̰͝a̖͍̲͉͡d͕̹ ͙͖̬͉͟t̻̗̠͈̝h͚͚̜̖͎̕ͅe̼̰͍ ̰̲̪̥c͏̟̞̝͓̫h̗̤͚̲͔̼a̯͎̳͇͙̝͈n̦̥̜̹͘ͅc̳̭ȩ,” she answered, holding her hand out at Ellie. She began to float off the ground, yelping as she flailed her arms and legs in the air. She lost her grip on the thermos as she suddenly began to spasm, as if fighting off a—no, she couldn’t be.

She stilled, eyes closed, then opened them. They were glowing ecto-green. She was dull and slack-jawed, staring off at nothing.

Danny couldn’t help the dread trickling into his chest. She wasn’t really...?

He stepped towards her, and she... glanced down at him? Oh, she didn’t.

She winked.

She did.

Danny felt a thrill of anger run through him—how could his own clone decide to act possessed and make all of this worse? (When did those two even get to plan this?!) It was clearly working, with how all the partygoers stared at her in horror, looking like they were about to pass out.

“A̛̫̙̮n͏y̗͇o̩̝͇̫n͖̜̬͇͖͖e̳ ̣̱̙̭͓e̤͚͉͉̮l̢̞̦̟s͎̱͍͍̩e̪̭͘ ͈͡w͖͚̩̹͉͢a͇͔̘ņ͎̟̣̫n͈͉̕a̷̟̝̯̬͚ ̭̱͉̟͔͘p̷̙̬̮̫̲͈̞̼͇̜͇̎̐͊ͨͅ l̜͖̲̀̇̚ ̼ ̤̄ a͙̻̲̰͂̋ͦ̎͌̏ ̬̘͍ͯ͝ ̙͎͚̊̆̆ͨ̚ ̝̟̎͑͐ͬ́ỵ̶͉͉̳ͨͥ̌͋̓ͅ ̖͉͓̙ͮ͌̑ͤ̽?̡͎̦̭̩̙̰͎”

Danny was about to dive for the thermos and suck both of them in (Ellie absolutely deserved it too, now), but he saw Dipper holding up the mirror and beginning a chant from a thick book. He had to take care of that first. He tackled the boy to the ground. The mirror slid away, unbroken, and both of them scrambled to get up and grab it first. Danny won, barely, and Dipper tackled him in return.

“Give me that!” Dipper growled, furiously trying to pull the mirror out of Danny’s hands.

Danny elbowed him away. “No, we need to use the thermos!”

“Why?!”

“Because—” he grunted as Dipper kicked him surprisingly hard— “it’ll work better!”

“And why should I believe you? You don’t care about stopping her!”

“I never said I didn’t!” Dipper paused his fighting. “I said to change your plan because she doesn’t deserve to be killed or trapped forever, and I already know that!” Danny pushed the other boy off of him and stood up, brushing himself off. “The longer we argue, the more she’ll make everyone pee their pants.”

“Okay, fine, we’ll use your thermos thing,” Dipper grumbled as he pushed himself back to standing. He sobered as he saw food flying around and Ellie still floating there, gawking into space. “You better be right.”

“Of course I am.”

Danny sprinted for the thermos. He turned it on the second his hand touched it. Lily and Ellie apparently heard its mechanical whine, as they both glanced at him, Lily wide-eyed in a different way than usual.

“I̙̻̺’̩͍m͇͔͢ ͅṋ̰̮̦͎͡ͅo̞̤t̩̯̰̖̱͖͖ ͞f͚̜̙͢ǐ̭͉͓͈̅͗ͥͅn̝̯̻͎̣̰̱̅i̮̹͔̲ͨͥ̋̆̕s̓̽ͤ͑̋҉̜͈̱̪h̤͉̫̭͍̒͆̉̈̊̐e̵͈̣͖dͧ͏͎͍̻ ̖͙́̇̒͛ẅ̘̠̤̤̭̒̾͟ḭ̩͈̥̬̅ͪt̰͇̟̹͖͂ͪͪ͋͟ḩ̝̯̖̤͉ͬ́͌—”

He gave her an apologetic look as he pulled the lid off. She let out a chilling, unnatural scream as she was sucked in, the finale to her entire performance.

Everything that had been floating crashed down, the lights flicked back to their usual white, and the laughing died off. Ellie fell to the floor, rubbing at her head and looking around as if dazed (that little liar).

“Are you okay?” Mabel cried as she ran to Ellie’s side, just as Dipper came up to him and asked, “Are you sure she can’t get out?”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, knocking his knuckles against it. “I’ll let her out in the Ghost Zone.”

“The Ghost Zone?”

He found himself explaining it halfmindedly, the rest of him focused on inspecting the party. It looked like everything really was back to normal, minus the rearranged room and food that fell to the floor.

“That’s amazing!” Dipper’s eyes sparkled, and Danny could finally see what Wendy meant about him wanting to know the supernatural, too. “I have so many questions!”

Danny suddenly suspected he’d be here a long time if those questions started now. “How about you write them down and I’ll tell you about it when the party’s over?”

He was surprised that Dipper agreed so easily, running off to grab Mabel’s pen. With that, he snuck out of the party, thermos in hand.

-_-_-_

Danny took the lid off again, watching as Lily reformed. She stretched her arms over her head with a sigh. He rubbed at his neck. “Sorry about trapping you, I didn’t really have a better choice.”

"That was still really fun!" She giggled, with the biggest smile Danny had ever witnessed her pulling. Her coloring shifted back to how she usually looked in the Ghost Zone, with purple hair, gray-black skin, and her dress bleached from black to bright white. She was officially out of her “scare-mode”, it seemed.

He huffed. "If you tone it down next time, and not include my sister in your schemes, I might not have to resort to it again.” He glanced around. “Well, time for you to go home. Is that portal still open?"

"Perhaps." Lily floated into the forest, and Danny warily followed.

Only a few minutes passed before they came across a long rip in the air, carved out in front of one of the many trees, shining ecto green like a bleeding wound. One of its neighbor trees wore a sparkly Summerween party flyer.

"See you later, Phantom!” Lily chirped. “Oh, and let Mabel know her cookies were good!" She paused to wave, her grin lingering on her face turned counterclockwise, then flew through.

Danny watched the portal until it closed; luckily, it only took a minute or two to stitch the fabric of reality back together, leaving no trace. Well, except for his nerves being fried for the night.

He was not looking forward to Ellie’s smug grin.

It’s a mistake going anywhere with her.

-_-_-_

Zalgo Text:

"I'm not actually wearing a costume."

"To make you scream."

"You should've used it when you had the chance."

"Anyone else wanna play?"

"I'm not finished with—"

#Danny Phantom #DP #ghostsona #AU!Ghost August #aughost #Lily? Lily.#Lily? Lily. Fic.#Gravity Falls #GF #DPxGF crossover #crossover #DP headcanons awaaaaay #and yay spooky times #Dani and Danny call each other siblings but otherwise this is basically post-canon (minus PP maybe?)

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cosmicdreamt · 4 years

Text

things a new rp partner should know about me !

fun new meme here ! write 3-5 things a new rp partner (or those who want to be) should know about you and tag 3-5 people! it should be related to rp and not to other interests. (also don’t write you are a dork/gremlin/etc. this is tumblr, of course you are)

tagged by: @baphometed ( -finger guns- ) tagging: If you see this, steal it. But just to tag one I’ll say @sublunary-supernatural because Locke will never be free of my bs XD

1. This should be obvious but I really love writing. I don’t at all mind having multiple threads with partners of varying scenarios. If you have an idea for a plot you are absolutely allowed to come yell at me about it. That said, I also love writing drabbles and if we interact enough for my muse to get emotionally attached to yours you will absolutely get one as a gift when inspiration hits.

2. Shipping is a complicated thing for me - not in that it’s hard for me to ship but because I both have no issue with rping with the intent to ship but I also don’t want that to be all there is. Neff is pan and someone who has more than likely had some type of crush on all her friends of legal age, but both of us also try not to make it seem like we’re trying to force her feelings on others. If you’re someone who sees my muse and feels like she’d be a lovely romantic partner for yours I’d honestly probably be willing to lead up to that, as long as it’s not just to get a lay. Will she be horny on main after being in a relationship? Absolutely. But just know when I ship with people I want SUBSTANCE. I want the emotional stuff, I want the backstory, I want the investment. I’m someone who will put effort into ships with my girl and I’d like the same to be given. If we ship I will give you everything from the first time she started having feelings for your muse up to making their kids honestly. Neff is someone who loves and wants to be loved and she will give her everything to your muse so long as they do the same.

3. If we are mutuals I want to rp and interact! Neff loves meeting new people and learning about all sorts of cultures/races/what have you. That said, I understand how easy it is to be shy or nervous or anxious to make the first move. I try my best to find an excuse and make an effort to get some sort of something going with y’all, but I also want you guys to know that I’m honestly open for anything and everything. You wanna write me a random starter? Go for it. Wanna Send in an ask and make a thread from it? I’m fine with it. Wanna plot? Hell yeah. I promise you I am the least intimidating person when I meet someone knew and get just as excited as Neff does to talk with y’all! Just as long as it doesn’t violate my rules or morals anything goes! (I explain most in my rules, though some I feel should be obvious enough for me not to list. Still if you have a question about what I do or don’t do feel free to ask!)

4. Despite me being super excited to rp with you guys I also tend to wait way too long to send reminders for rps honestly. In me not wanting to seem annoying and pushy I usually wait about a week, sometimes even longer, because I know people are busy and it also depends on musing. With this in mind, I have a thread tracker on my blog for those I’ve got an active thread with. Some I’ve archived if it’s been longer than a month when really I should just remind them that the thread exists, but I am a fool whose worst fear is coming off too strong and choose to remain frustratingly passive instead. In terms of my own responses, whenever I have the energy I try to respond to all threads at once in the order they were responded to. Every now and then I break this rule if I have very strong musing for a particular response, but I will still try to respond to the others that day as well. If I don’t make a post acknowledging I have other replies to get to but are done for the day you’re more than welcome to let me know if I missed your reply.

#⋡☆《ooc》—across the universe #[[ I'M SO SORRY THESE ARE SO LONG ]]#[[ I just wanted to be as clear as possible :') ]]

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danandthereader · 5 years

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Pls give me more vampire Dan (maybe another vampire tries to get ahold of the reader and Dan fights them idk)

A/N: Oh of course, lovely ! I’m always happy to write more Vampire!Dan. ♡ I’ll take your prompt about the fighting and work with that - it immediately give me inspiration and I ended up really liking this end product. I hope it’s cool that this is a little late. Think of it being posted like the Grumps playing Halloween games in December, doing a sort of Nightmare Before Christmas thing ! Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you liked it. Heart you !

BY MY HAND

Your world had always been very open-ended and full of theories and guessing games. From the time you could truly understand what was going on around you, you had questions in your brain about everything.Your questions had lead you to some worthwhile answers, and some you wished you had never learned in the first place. You knew that things that were not always entirely human - like werewolves and vampires - existed alongside the normal folk. You also knew that things not of this world at all - faeries and pixies were the big two - popped in and out as well. Yet the line was drawn and religious figures - demons and angels, succubi and incubi, even ghosts were proven to not have any real ground. And for the most part, all of them lived together in a state of co-existence.But the legends and stories didn’t come from nowhere. Sometimes children did go missing because they were whisked away to the fae realm, or people were turned into something without choice. Far and few between, maybe, but it happened. Not many who experienced those sorts of things first-hard got to tell the tales themselves.

As you lay on your side, staring up the grandiose staircase at the two gentlemen going at it, you couldn’t help but wonder which side you would end up on at the end of this. The fight itself hadn’t been going on for very long, even though time, for them, was irrelevant, more insulting and violent words than actual action. But the vampire on the right - taller, older, with graying hair and calloused hands, proof that he had been turned much later in his life - had gotten a hold of you, and that’s when everything picked up. Daniel - sweet Danny, with his hazel eyes and chestnut curls, the one who had been turned and kept his soft features for eternity - had jumped to your rescue, and down the stairs you were tossed like a doll.Shifting, you internally took stock. No broken bones, some aching ribs, a few bumps, maybe a big bruise or two. Nothing serious. Slowly, you sat up, repressing a groan. Your eyes fell back to the two of them, struggling but not, Dan’s fist in the other’s hand; even from the bottom of the stairs you could see the smug grin playing on the gentleman’s lips. Dan tried with his other hand, but before he could land the blow, he was shoved back, and he hit the ground. You got to your feet as quickly as you could, no plan in mind other than to stop your love from getting hurt. The man took two steps, and planted his foot square on Dan’s chest, effectively leaving the boy breathless.They were talking, but you couldn’t hear it from this distance. Mouths were moving, hands had wrapped around ankles, and you were slowly climbing the red velvet staircase. Sure, you weren’t a vampire, but you couldn’t just do nothing, even if your side did hurt like a mother and you had no weapons on you.“… And once I take your manor, I’ll take the town…” He pushed harder into Dan’s chest. You could feel that, your chest constricting. And once the town is mine, the streets will run crimson, and every single human will either be dead or my next meal.” There was so much resentment, but so much triumph, in the intruder’s tone; it made your free hand ball into a fist. “Brian, this isn’t - That’s the last thing you want to do,” Dan replied, breathless, hurting in more ways than just physical, you realized. Your step faltered. Did he know this guy? “I know you. Hurting people, it’s not-” He was cut short. “You used to know me. Now I’m as much a stranger to you as I am to your friend here.”The acknowledgement made you jump a little.

The older vampire - Brian - ginned, all sharp teeth and murderous intent. “Didn’t think I noticed them after I tossed them down the stairs?” he asked, mocking, not looking at you. “They smell so good, Daniel. I can see why you like them so much.” Danny complimented you on your scent every once and a while, and from him it was sweet; from the other it made your skin crawl. “Maybe they’ll be the first I have after I impale you on your banister…” Your eyes narrowed. “Touch me and you’ll only taste your teeth,” you replied, a strong sentence you never thought you’d say. He only grinned wider. “Oh, they’ve got spice! You know I’m always for a little kick.” Kick. How tempting that was.“Brian I don’t want to hurt you,” Dan began, eyes shining red, the frustration getting to him. “But you’re making it really hard not to snap your foot in two right now.” Brian laughed. “You wouldn’t,” he replied, so sure. “I was always the killer one, not you.” His head tilted, resentment dripping off of him. But there was something else, something even you could feel. “Do you need a reminder?” Ruby eyes widened just a bit. “Brian-!”The threat was cut off, his for moving quick as a blink, from above him to in front of you. Stumbling, you tried to get back, but he caught your elbow before you could get too far, making you jerk violently. “No - you - motherfucker -” Your words were broken up by your struggle, which died out when you felt the ground fall away from your feet. Looking down, your stomach dropped. Right. Vampires did the levitation thing. “Choose your next words carefully, darling,” he called with a sickeningly coy sort of smile. Looking to you, he added, smile growing, “And I don’t mean you.” He looked back to Dan, far enough below that you could get hurt if Brian decided to let go. You were also above that infamous banister he spoke of a moment ago, broken at the tip with a dangerously sharp point. “So, my dear friend, what will it be?” Though Dan seemed at a loss, almost desperate, you were fuming. “Try to fight, lose the love of your current life, spend eternity alone?” Pause. “Or will you finally give in and let things go back to the way they used to be?” If this was how it used to be, it was no wonder Danny wanted no part of it.“ Hey!” Your voice rang out, capturing both men’s attention. “Yeah, you.” A slap of Brian’s wrist made him look at you, eyebrow cocked. “ I know you heard me earlier.” Your voice had raised now, pitched a bit. You weren’t a bargaining chip, not a prize to be won or a toy to be played with. “I said let - me - go!” Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you let go of your body weight and the both of you dropped. He hadn’t been prepared for that.

The fall was short, but there was no impact to speak of, at least for you. Someone had, instead, caught you in their arms, tucking you into their chest and rolling on the ground with you to keep you safe.When you peeked up, a ‘fro of curls was there to greet you. But Dan wasn’t looking at you, and the expression his face was a fine mixture of pain and resignation. Following his gaze, you couldn’t help but gasp softly. On the banister, skewered through the stomach with no blood to speak of coming from the wound, was Brian, not even twitching.It took you a moment to realize that you had done that. You hadn’t just saved yourself, or Dan, but the whole town. You were a hero.You’d never been a hero before.

#danny sexbang #dan avidan #dan x reader #dan avidan x reader #reader insert

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