#i’m too tired to even type essays in the tags what have i become

[cyncerity]

alien terrarium au!!

here it is! i said it’d be today, so it’s done! 1 min before it becomes tomorrow!

minor thing, tho: this is extremely unedited. like, there are a lot of things i post that aren’t edited fully, but i didn’t even fully read this one in one sitting. but i’m not free again until this tuesday or wednesday, so i’m not gonna make you guys wait that long lol

basically it’s midnight and i’m way too fucking busy so i’m gonna post it and edit it when i have time to later in the week. if you wanna wait for the fully edited version, ignore this until i specify that I edited it. if you don’t care, i hope you enjoy! this has been an on again off again thing for a few weeks and i’m so glad to finally have it like 95% done :)

tw: soft safe vore, unconventional vore ig?

“We have to cut our losses here. We don’t have enough to fund this any longer, and there’s no one we can reach out to for more money. We can’t risk this getting out.” “Fine, I- I know, it’s just…this is a breakthrough. We can’t afford to give up now.” “We won’t. We just need some time to get back on our feet is all. Besides, he knows what to do now…” the scientists turned their heads to the one way mirror they stood behind. A little boy, barely a teenager, sat behind it on his bed, his eyes glassy and unblinking, turned a glossy pearlescent white. Their project, practically their life’s work. Well, the container for it, anyway.

***

Wilbur heard the three scientists come into the room, and somehow registered one of them motion vaguely with their hand despite his eyes being effectively turned off, which meant they wanted him back in their world. Ugh. Still, he cut off his thoughts with his practically other half, eyes beginning to function again and the scientists approaching him as they saw his eyes shift back to the colors they were supposed to be.

“Wilbur, what we’re going to tell you is very, very important, so you have to listen carefully. It’s your life at stake if this goes wrong. And his.” The one in blue said, gesturing to Wilbur’s torso. Well, that was certainly a way to get his attention. Wilbur didn’t say a word, though; the green one didn’t like it when he ‘sassed them,’ so he instead scooted back and placed both arms protectively around himself and his…what did they call him once, ‘cargo’? He was sure he heard Green call him a ‘parasite’ once, which was rude. Still, they must have noticed his panic, cause the orange one responded immediately. “It’ll all be ok, things will just have to change for a minute here. You’re…youre not going to be able to stay here for a while.” “What?!” Wilbur said, unable to restrain himself. The green one went to speak up but was silenced by blue, who just whispered something about him being ‘scared’ and how this was ‘probably a lot to handle.’ Yeah, no shit it was!

“I get this is a huge change, I do, but it’s necessary for now. We don’t have the necessary resources to keep taking care of you here. We need to find a way to keep you safe and healthy, both of you. You’ll be staying somewhere secure while we find somewhere more reclusive to hide you. We don’t want anyone finding out anything and putting the two of you in danger.” Orange said, sitting next to Wilbur and rubbing a thumb across his knuckles. Right. Right, he had a purpose. And if part of his purpose was to survive without his caretakers for a short while, he could do it. If it meant safety for his stowaway, he could do it.

“You doin ok, bud?” Orange asked, and Wilbur nodded slightly. Orange was his favorite of the main three. He was always nice, and even gave him extra treats when he was behaving! “When do you think you can be ready to leave, Wil?” Green asked, crouching to be at level with where he sat. “Whenever you need me to be, sir.” Green smiled and ruffled his hair. Wil always tried to be extra good for Green. It’s not like he didn’t like him, it’s just that Green was more likely to yell at him if he messed up. “Good kid. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and introduce you to who you’ll be staying with. Try to get some rest.” He said, smiling before leaving and leading the other two out with him.

***

“Sam! Hey buddy!” Dream said, jumping out of the side of his van and running over to his old friend. “Dream! How’ve you been?” “Pretty good, you?” “Doin pretty good myself.” Sam replied, pulling Dream in for a hug. “So, who’s this kid you found?” “Calls himself Wilbur. We found him a few months ago, but we’re a bit short on money right now and can’t handle another mouth to feed. He won’t stay here for long, promise, just till we find a more stable income.” Dream hated to lie to an old friend, but he couldn’t afford his secret to be leaked. “I’m always lookin to help out, especially for a friend. Anything I need to know about him?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of an odd one, but that’s what we love about him.” Dream chuckled, hoping his friend was still oblivious. “He disassociates a lot. Like, constantly, and tends to get really upset if people try to mess with him when he’s like that. He also doesn’t do a lot of physical activity. Bruises take longer to heal for him, he gets sore easily, and his immune system doesn’t handle cuts well. He’s not very talkative, and he’s got some weird scars all over him. We think the two are connected, but we don’t know what this kid has been through.” Dream finished, and Sam nodded solemnly. Great, he was taking the bait. He was less likely to ask questions if he thought he was prying into the past of an abused child.

meanwhile, in the van…

“We found you abandoned. You’re just staying here until we get more stable jobs and can afford to feed you again. If he ever asks you about where you came from, you look away or change the subject as quickly as possible. You don’t know why you disassociate. You don’t know where the scars came from. Never do any of your caretaker necessities for him in front of Sam. He can’t know. Got it?” “Got it. He’ll never know.” Blue nodded back. Orange had just kind of been pacing in the van as Blue gave him the rundown again. Green came back to the van with a hand out towards Wilbur, giving him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was about to take the hand before his arm got tugged and he was pulled into a hug from behind. A gentle one, obviously no one wanted to risk damaging what was inside of him, but a hug all the same. He didn’t get many of those. When the person pulled away he saw it was Orange, who was smiling proudly. “You’re gonna be fine kid. We believe in you. I’ll miss you, ok?” Wilbur just smiled back and nodded. “I’ll miss you, too. We both will.” He said before taking Dreams hand and walking outside with him.

***

It had been an…odd week with Wilbur in Sam’s opinion. Firstly, he’d been way more interested in things like trees and grass than any normal child would be, but refused to touch them. He also spent 95% of his time in the guest bedroom with the door locked, never making a sound. Who knows, maybe the kid just liked to sleep. He refused to play any sort of physical game, like Dream had warned him, but he seemed overly cautious of anything that could hurt him. But he wouldn’t pry, that wasn’t his job. His job was to take care of the kid until Dream, George, and Sapnap could take him back. Right?

That’s what he was supposed to do, but somehow, against all logic…he knew this kid. The giant brown eyes, the curly brown hair, his face shape, it was all so familiar. But why?

Until it hit him.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat, immediately racing to his computer to see if he was right. And his suspicions were confirmed, against all odds. There, on his friends facebook page, was a photo of him and his young son. His young son who was Wilbur’s age. His young son who used to have an identical twin brother who went missing when he was just a few years old.

Sam knew Wilbur’s face because Wil wasn’t the only person he knew with that face.

Sam wasted no time calling. He must’ve called 12 times before someone answered, which was fair given the ungodly hour, but this was urgent. “What the fuck, Sam…” and groggy voice answered. “Mate, it’s, like, 4 in the morning, what could possibly be this important-”

“Phil, I think I found your son.”

***

Breakfast was different the next morning. Wilbur walked downstairs only to see two strangers sitting at Sam’s table, one an adult and one a child around his age. The adult looked about as old as Sam, which was to say a bit older than his scientists. He had blonde hair and kind blue eyes, and was wearing a dark green sweater jacket over a white button up. The other had long pick hair pulled back into a loose messy braid and glasses almost reminding Wil of his own except square instead of circular. He wore a simple pink hoodie and dirtied jeans and surprisingly clean white sneakers, but he must have been staring, cause soon the kid looked over to him and-

Wilbur’s breath froze.

Why…why did this kid have his face?

At this point, the man had looked over to, and immediately shot up from where he was sitting, knocking over the chair he was sitting on in the process and making Wilbur flinch. “Orpheus?” Wilbur stared blankly for a few moments before the man rushed him, barely giving him time to react before he was pulled into a hug.

Not a gentle one like Orange knew to give. Not one given by someone that knew why so few people were even allowed to touch him. A lung crushing, tight hug that was unbelievably painful after so much time with such infrequent gentle touching. He rarely found his mind drifting back to his the feeling of cargo in him, given that he’d lived most of his life with him and had gotten used to the odd sensations, but now it was impossible to ignore. Everything in him, everything that had been worked on so diligently, everything that had been removed and replaced and rearranged to make him perfect for his purpose, and his stowaway inside were being crushed. His purpose, the thing he’d been raised to protect, his only true constant in his life, was being crushed. It was the most horrifying downpour of fear he’d ever felt.

Wilbur screamed.

He screamed bloody murder as the adult let go and backed away, eyes wide. Wilbur vaguely noticed that both the strangers were crying, but he didn’t care. Wilbur only stopped screaming once his air was gone and now replaced by jagged breathing and spasms in his lungs. He felt like he was about to collapse as his vision darkened and his limbs began shaking. He needed to know if he was ok. If he wasn’t, Wilbur would never forgive himself. He needed to know.

“Kiddo, I need you to take deep breaths, ok, I think you’re having a panic a-“ “Stay the hell away from me! All of you!!” Wilbur screamed, voice hoarse as he smacked Sam’s hand away and ran up to his guest room and locked the door. He sat on the bed with a thud and tried to stop his shaking, but couldn’t spare much time for that since he had to make sure his cargo was still ok. He needed him to be ok. God, he was still just a kid, even younger than Wilbur. He can’t have let him get hurt.

He tried to take deep breaths and reached his mind out to some foreign instinct he knew. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how it came so easily, but it was such a central part of his brain that he could find it with ease. The second he got close to it, his whole body relaxed involuntarily. He hadn’t done that, which only meant…

“Oh, Tommy, thank god.” Wilbur sighed out loud, though the rest was said just to Tommy in the special way only they could communicate. He felt Tommy slow his heart rate more as he felt like he was being sucked away from his body into a void that words couldn’t possibly describe. “Wilbur!” a voiced called out. It hadn’t come from anywhere, just everywhere, like Wilbur’s did when he was here. Wherever ‘here’ was. He didn’t really know. It wasn’t like a darkness or white area, it was just…nothing. Not a nothingness that couldn’t be seen, but felt. Devoid of anything that could make it describable. Wilbur liked to joke that it was the emptiness in Tommy’s brain. “What was all that outside? You know i’ve got se-“ “Sensitive hearing, I know. I was being loud. Sorry.”

Wilbur could basically see Tommy huff and roll his eyes, despite the fact that he’d never seen Tommy at all. He knew every detail of his little brother friend, and Tommy knew every detail of Wilbur. Despite neither of them being able to see in their respective nothings, somehow they could sense every “move” (aka the movement they imagined themselves making since they didn’t have bodies in the nothingness) the other made in the void. Also Tommy can sometimes see through Wil’s eyes to look at reflections, but he rarely does that. Green doesn’t like when he does that.

Still though, he knew Tommy. He may not know what he looks like perfectly, but he knew Tommy. In an odd sense, he knew his details, but never what he truly looked like. He could list the facts of how Tommy was, but he had a feeling of deja vu whenever he tried to imagine a face or any detailed image of his body. He never could, he just knew the facts, like he’d seen Tommy but the detailed image in his brain had been removed and blurred beyond recognition. It seemed kind of unfair to him, given that Tommy knew exactly what he looked like because of the shared vision things and mirrors existing.

Still, though, he knew the pale white-blue of his skin the bright blonde of his hair and otherworldly accents. The shining, almost glowing iridescence of his eyes and the strange markings found on his body. He was mostly humanoid, which had initially shocked Wilbur and the scientists. Orange had warned him once that since they had no idea what Tommy was, something inhuman and vicious could easily rip through him. It scared him a little, but at that point he’d seen Tommy’s egg once and had grown monumentally attached, lethal beast creature or not. But Tommy was humanoid, except for one thing; he didn’t have legs. Rather, he had a long predominately red scaly tail like a snake.

When Wilbur was first getting used to Tommy’s being in there, the hardest thing to deal with was one: the odd feeling of scales against his sensitive organs and two: Tommy was almost always cold. How he could stay shockingly chilly in almost 100° Wilbur didn’t know, but that’s probably a big factor on why Tommy couldn’t be in open air; he’d freeze to death. Or his aversion to any form of light (maybe that was an understatement: a dim lamp 2 rooms over could kill him). But besides that, his unnatural colors, and a few other random snake-like features, Tommy was far from the horrific deep space lovecraftian monster he or the scientists were expecting. He was more just a little person who also happened to be a snake from space. No biggie.

“I- I don’t know what happened down there. There’s…there’s these two people, and one looks exactly like me and the other called me the wrong name and rushed to hug me and I panicked cause I thought he hurt you. You’re not hurt, are you?” “I’m right as rain, mr. human man. I’m sturdier than you think. Er, well, you’re sturdy and I’m in here so yeah I’m good.” Tommy responded, letting out an unearthly mix of a rumble and a hiss as he did. Wilbur liked Tommy’s weird alien noises, it comforted him. He sighed. “Still, I should’ve been more careful-“

“No you shouldn’t have! Stop bein a..a uh…” he paused for a minute to mumble a series of his weird Tommy noises before starting again. “what’s the english word for someone who takes blame for no reason and thinks that they need to solve every problem ever cause somehow everything is their fault?” “I think you’re talking about a martyr complex.” “Stop have’n a martyn complex!” Tommy yelled back, making Wilbur laugh. He pressed a hand against where he felt Tommy within himself, in one of the open areas that had been cleared just for him. Tommy pressed back and started to purr, a common reflex for him when he was happy, excited, or just needed to comfort Wilbur.

Even if Wilbur’s and Tommy’s consciouses were in the nothingness, they could still feel their body’s and move a little bit, even if it was more difficult than when they were awake. Wilbur liked to think of it as the same type of gesture that his scientists would do when they rubbed his hair or gave him a side hug, something he would love to try but could never do with Tommy. He thought Tommy deserved to have his hair played with or to be hugged, but it could never happen. But the pressing in, the only amount of intentional contact they’ve ever had and could ever have, worked just fine as a replacement. Something comforting and quick to show he cared. Of course, Tommy knew he cared, they’ve lived together (well, one within the other, but same difference) for most of Wilbur’s life and all of Tommy’s.

“Still, though…i don’t know what to do. Sam hasn’t had anyone else over, i don’t know what they’re doing here.” “I’d say good old fashion spying, then. See if you can get closer and make out what they’re saying.” “Good idea-“ Wilbur said, beginning to break off the connection before Tommy shouted out. “Wait! Aren’t you gonna let me see?” Wilbur rolled his eyes and somehow, in a way he couldnt describe, let Tommy’s weird telekinetic force into his mind. He opened his eyes and he was back in his room, the nothingness vanished and his body back in his full control. He looked to his mirror and sure enough, the shiny white gloss that overtook his eyes when talking to Tommy had confined itself to just Wilbur’s pupils. He’d given Tommy access.

“There, is that better?” Wilbur asked quietly, unable to respond telepathically when not in his weird zoned out state. The lack of that void didn’t seem to pose an issue for Tommy, though, as Wilbur heard an enthusiastic “Yup!” mixed with a few alien chirps echo through his mind as a response. Wil nodded to his reflection (and Tommy by proxy) and went to the stairs. He probably didn’t need to go down, he just needed to be able to hear them.

***

Ok that was, in hindsight, a bad decision.

“‘Dad?!’ I have a dad!? And a brother!?!” Wilbur whisper yelled, pacing back and forth across his room. With Sam and the now-not-so-much-strangers still talking in their kitchen, he figured it’d be safe to talk outside of the mind void. Tommy, meanwhile, laid himself against the front of Wilbur’s storage, rubbing circles into the walls to try and calm him down. “Maybe that’s not so horrible! I mean, you’re not an orphan! That’s normally a good thing, right?” Tommy said skeptically.

“Maybe it would have been 9 years ago! But now I have you!” Wilbur said, stopping to sit on his bed and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don’t know them. I don’t remember them at all; you’d think if they were a good family to me I’d at least recall that they existed. But I don’t. How could I ever trust them with knowing about you?” “I…I don’t know. But…you have a dad, Wil! And a brother! That’s not something you can just ignore! Neither of us know what it’s really like to have a family, maybe…you could learn for the both of us?”

Wilbur sighed. He knew Tommy was right. And they’d both wondered where their families were; if they missed their sons, if they even wanted to give them up in the first place, what ever happened to them. Wilbur always felt awful because Tommy would likely never know. The odds that his parents were even still alive were slim, and it’s not like he ended up on earth with very specific instructions on how to take care of him by accident. But Wilbur had never thought his family could show up, either, yet here they were.

“What do we do about the trio?” “You know how I feel about them. Let’s see if those two are any better.” To be fair, Wil did know how Tommy felt about them; he didn’t like them at all. Tom didn’t like the tests they ran on him, he didn’t like what they put Wil through in order to do tests on him, he didn’t like how they treated his big brother caretaker as the less important one in their experiments, and he didn’t like how damn nosy they were. That part even bugged Wilbur. How the hell did they expect Tommy to be able to explain so much about what he was? He’d never met anyone like himself either, he’d been hatched on earth!

“Well, at least we know them. They’re predictable, and we know they have our best intentions at heart. Our. They know how to help the both of us and I- I don’t know if I can do all this alone.” “Wilbur you haven’t been alone since the day I was born. You’re not gonna start now.”

“What if something happens to you and I don’t know how to fix it? It’s my job to make sure nothing bad happens to you. I couldn’t live with myself if I let myself get caught up in some familial adventure and you ended up getting hurt because of it.” “I get it but don’t you think that’s unfair?” Wilbur paused. “Wh..what do you mean ‘unfair’?” “We’re kids. You’re a kid. It sucks for you that I’m your responsibility, it’s unfair that you gave up your childhood to keep me safe. But you can get it back, some of it, at least. Just…see if this can work out. If not for you, then for me. I hate seeing you put yourself on the back burner like this, Wil, I hate it. I can’t stand that i’m the reason you can’t have friends or play or be a kid. But this could change that. If it can’t, we’ll go to whatever lab the trio puts us in next. I’m sure they’ll be sooo thrilled that you’ve met your family.”

“Tommy don’t say those things about yourself.” Wilbur said, hugging his arms around himself. “I chose to take care of you, and I’ve never regretted it. Not for a second. You’re worth everything I willingly gave up, ok?” He heard a disgruntled noise in response. “Fine, we’ll come back to this conversation later. For now…ok. I’ll..I’ll give them a shot-” He heard Tommy cheer with a mix of wooing and trilling that he made when he was excited “-but Sam obviously knows the trio, so i’m sure he’ll tell them about my family at some point if he hasn’t already.” “I figured, but what are they gonna do? They can’t take you if you want to stay.” “Emphasis on if I want to stay, remember?” “Got it, bossman.”

“Wilbur?” He heard a voice outside call while knocking before the door opened a crack. “Were you…talking to someone..?” Sam said, poking his head in through the gap a bit. “Uh, no, I just..uh..kinda talk to myself sometimes. But I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” Wilbur said, trying to move past his previous conversation as quickly as possible. The less Sam questioned why he was talking to an empty room, the better. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that, I just…don’t like being touched.” Not exactly true, but if it would keep the blonde guy and his clone from touching him it could be the truth for a while. Sam just solemnly nodded. “I’m sorry, I told him about you and how you were just kinda found with no memories, but…I don’t think he believed that your amnesia was as bad as I told him it was. I don’t think it hit him that you really didn’t know him until you ran off…Wil, he’s-” “He’s my dad, apparently. I was eavesdropping, i heard you talking downstairs.” Sam stared wide eyed for a second before he nodded solemnly.

“I know this must be a lot. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by calling them here, you obviously didn’t expect to meet your long lost family while you stayed for the month. But…I’ve been friends with Phil for a while. That’s the blonde guy, by the way. He…he didn’t take losing you well. I was there for him when he and Techno were grieving and it..it was horrible. They were so broken.” Sam said, eyes beginning to shine from unshed tears. “I can ask them to leave if you want, I understand if-“ “I don’t want them to go.” Wilbur interrupted, almost mad at himself that he’d let Tommy talk him into this. “I want to meet them. I want to see what they’re like again.“

“Really? I mean, you can, but I just thought-“ “I’ve made up my mind. Can I meet them again?” “Y-yeah, yeah, absolutely.” Sam said, leading Wilbur out the doors down the stairs. He heard Tommy make a few more excited chirps before he started purring again. Like always, it put Wilbur at ease a bit. He followed close behind Sam down the stairs and back to the kitchen, where he saw the pink haired boy leaned over the blonde guy, who was sitting at the table with his head on his folded arms. The pink haired boy’s head snapped up from where he’d been comforting his father as Sam and Wilbur re-entered the room, eyes narrowing at Wilbur like he was a rabid animal. In the awkward silence, Phil looked up, and it almost pained Wilbur too see his red cheeks and puffy eyes. He really hadn’t meant to hurt the guys feelings, he just panicked. They all stared at each other for a moment before Wilbur realized that they were probably waiting for him to speak up. Great.

“Uh…I’m sorry for screaming at you, Mr. Phil. I don’t do well with…surprise contact. You just scared me, is all.” The man just continued to stare back at Wilbur for a moment. “You…you really don’t remember me, do you, Orpheus?” Wilbur looked back and took a deep breath. This may have been for Tommy, but he had to stand his ground here. “I’m going to say this once, and only once cause I don’t think you can handle hearing it a second time, ok? You think you can handle this?” Phil looked a bit confused at the annoyed tone but nodded, prompting Wil to continue. “Good, cause here it is: I don’t know who Orpheus is. I don’t know who he was. All I know is he’s not me. Maybe he was, but not anymore. So maybe your grieving wasn’t in vain: because he is in fact very much dead.”

Wilbur paused as Phil’s face fell and tears started to run down his face again. Even the pink haired boy had started crying. He tried to ignore it. “My name is Wilbur. If you want to know me, not Orpheus, me, I…I’m willing to try to connect with you again. I don’t mean to be heartless but I need you to understand that if you want me back, there will be no prior standards for me. I won’t try to change how I am now to be the person I used to be for your amusement, because frankly? I couldn’t give less of a shit about what you want, because I don’t know fuck all about either of you. If you came here to find the son you lost, I’d suggest leaving. Any questions?”

Shocked silence filled the room. Phil stood silent and still as tears poured down his face, his clone even started to cry when he saw Phil crying, and Sam looked like he’d just watched a bomb go off. Wilbur just stood at the center waiting for something to change. For Sam to send him to his room, for Phil to break down even worse or for him and his son to deem Wilbur too different and abandon him (again), but nothing was happening. ‘Way to sugarcoat it, Wil.’ quietly played in his head, as if Tommy was afraid he’d somehow interrupt the group despite them not being able to hear him. He’d elbow himself in the gut later, that’d probably look really weird if he did it now.

“…Do you want to come home with us?” Phil said after a few minutes, shocking Wilbur. “Do you want me to?” Phil just nodded and wiped a few more tears from

his face. “Even if you don’t remember us, you’re still my son. You always will be. I’ve missed you so, so much Wilbur.” He said, kneeling to be at eye level. Wilbur just sighed. “Ok, then…let’s go home, I guess. I didn’t come here with much, I can just go with you now?” “Really?” Phil said, surprised but seemingly excited. “Oh, o-ok then! I thought you’d want a few days but, uh, sure! As long as Sam is ok with that?”

“Oh yeah, Sam!” Wilbur interrupted, turning to face the man who’d just kind of been standing silently, clearly unsure of what to do in the situation. “I need you to tell my guardians what happened. They’ll

probably understand, but they’ll also want to meet my long lost family

since they raised me and all.” ‘More like interrogate them and possibly file a restraining order so they can never take us again, but same difference I guess.’ Tommy chimed in unhelpfully. Wilbur ignored him. “Give them Phil’s address asap so they know where to find me. Also give me their phone numbers, i don’t remember them.” “Wait, guardians?” Phil chimed in, lightly tapping Wilbur on the shoulder with a concerned look. “You have legal guardians?”

“Three college aged guys, yeah. But I wouldn’t say legal,” Wilbur explained, “they just kind of took me in when I was lost without my memories. They tried to find you for a few years but gave up after a while. I couldn’t really give them any info to go off of.” “Oh…do they treat you well?” “Yes.” ‘No.’ Wilbur and Tommy said at the same time, though obviously only one was heard. “That’s…that’s good, i guess.” Phil said quietly, then it was back to the awkward silence. Godammit, Wilbur hated silence. Was it gonna be like this all the time with Phil?

“Well then, let’s get a move on.” Said the pink haired boy who Wilbur had only remembered was in the room when he spoke up. He’d been pretty silent, but at least his tears had dried. That was better than Phil was doing. “And you are?” Wilbur asked. “Technoblade, but most people call me Techno.” he said, holding a hand out. Wilbur just stared trying to figure out why he was doing that. Was it a high five? Sometimes orange would give him a high five when he did a good job testing, but why was he doing it sideways?

Wilbur smacked his hand quickly and pulled away, smiling awkwardly. Techno just lowered his hand and stared. Shit, he was wrong about the high five, wasn’t he?“Ok…” Techno said, “we’re gonna have to re-teach you some stuff, aren’t we?” “Uuuhhh…maybe.” Wilbur said quietly as he heard Tommy laugh at him. Asshole.

Wilbur made his way to their car after grabbing his bag and saying goodbye to Sam. The packed into the car, and Wilbur was met with the silence again. Phil seemed…weary of him, to put it best. Like he was dam one bad storm away from breaking. Techno seemed more disinterested in him, just playing on a phone as Phil started to drive, never looking up at him. Well, he wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence this time. He didn’t want to talk to them anyway.

Instead, he let himself fall into his nothingness, connecting with Tommy on the other side. “Well that went great!” Tommy said sarcastically. “I stood my ground.” Wilbur shot back. “I don’t want to be treated like some lost broken kid. I’m 13. I know what I’m doing.” “Well, I like them. They seem nice!” Wilbur wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, Phil seemed like he wanted to care about him. Techno seemed…willing, at least, even if he was a bit nonchalant. But could he trust these people? They were the people who abandoned him and left him to almost starve to death in the woods as a toddler. That wasn’t exactly something a loving family would do, but they seemed happy to see him alive. Was it a mistake? How could they have fucked up badly enough that he got amnesia and almost died at the ripe age of 4?

But Tommy seemed so excited. As much as the scientists always tried to make sure it didn’t happen, Wilbur loved Tommy. He really was like a little brother, they’d grown up together. They’d both always been told that it would be for the best that they didn’t make that kind of connection in case something where to go wrong, but who else did they have? Tommy was family to him, and damn if he wouldn’t do anything to make the little boy happy. He sighed. “Yeah, well…let’s hope so.”

#i’m too tired to even type essays in the tags what have i become #jokes aside tho im conkin out once i type this all #cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #alien terrarium au #cynwrites #mcyt g/t vore #tw vore #soft vore #safe vore #tiny!tommy #alien!tommy #giant!wilbur #giant!phil #giant!techno #giant!sam #alright gn y’all peace

[stillflight]

This is that essay I mentioned in the tags on the semiverbal post yesterday: An extended metaphor to explain my struggles with speaking as a verbal autistic person. If you’re allistic, I know it’s long but please open this and read it because it’s something you should understand-- autistic people cannot easily be sorted into fully nonverbal and hyperverbal, no matter how a million infographics make it seem. Maybe also open this and read it if you’re autistic and consider yourself “fully verbal” because it might make you realize something.

Most people can run, right? Most people are capable of running. You might run out of the building when you’re late for work and then walk the rest of the way. You might even run all the way to work and you’d be pretty spent but you could manage it. But you wouldn’t run everywhere. You would get tired pretty quickly, you’d hurt your body, and soon you wouldn’t even be able to walk anywhere.

Speaking is like running for me. Walking is like writing or typing. I could run to work every day but it wouldn’t take even a week for me to be so drained and hurting that I couldn’t even walk. That is to say, using words at all, typing, writing, would all become very difficult. I would have to drive next time I wanted to go somewhere (that’s like, say, using an AAC app), but there are problems with that; it’s expensive, not as safe, and you have to learn how to do it first. And let’s pretend I can’t afford gas prices right now, let alone a car, and that I don’t know how to drive yet. For the hell of it let’s also say that I worry about my safety on the road, which is mostly threatened by other people.

So I try to conserve energy for walking. That’s why I sometimes avoid social situations that require speaking. Not because I’m depressed or anxious or shy. Just because I’ve spent the past week running everywhere.

Sometimes, also, the terrain makes it very difficult to run. For me an example is Zoom calls. I can do my best running up a hill so steep for so long but by the end I’m gonna be too tired to walk home, so it’s in my best interest to quit early. Different terrains are more difficult or less for different people. For some people it’s oral presentations. That’s not difficult terrain for me, but it is like a marathon, which you can’t do without getting some rest afterwards. And sometimes, you know, you get an injury that prevents you from running or even walking. I remember times when I’ve been surprised with difficult conversations that made it very hard to write, or when I overworked myself, or dissociated, or there were fireworks outside, you get the idea. But “injuries” are just temporary.

And, y’know, sometimes walking is fun. I like to go for walks by the lake and get some exercise. I like to write poetry and short stories. In fact it’s kind of my aspiring profession. So I would rather not run everywhere, because I don’t want to be too tired for a nice walk. I would rather use text-to-speech or sign language when it’s possible because I don’t want to be too spent to write important papers or my poetry.

But like. Now imagine that everyone around you runs everywhere, all the time. Or that everyone in your life is an Olympic sprinter and/or regular ultramarathon runner. They can’t understand how on Earth you get tired after running for only an hour! That’s unthinkable. Because running doesn’t require any energy for them. It’s as if, they can just glide along and they don’t even have to think about what muscles they’re using and their brain doesn’t have to manually move their legs. Mine does-- it’s not automatic for me, it’s a conscious effort. I cannot turn on autopilot for speaking, it is stuck on manual. And the way I run and how I run so slowly and I can’t keep up, that’s weird and unnecessary to them too.

But when I ask very politely if maybe I can walk somewhere, they don’t want to have to wait for me, and I can run, so I should have to. Then of course, they get frustrated that I don’t run the correct way. Wouldn’t you start to quietly wish you’d just break your leg so you wouldn’t have to run at all? I used to be ecstatic when I got sick enough to lose my voice and people were ok with me writing to communicate, and I wished it would happen more often. I’d get jealous of people who got surgery on their throat -- I genuinely had no idea why they were upset that they weren’t allowed to talk for several days. It seemed like a dream scenario to me. I didn’t know speaking didn’t require effort for them. I even wondered briefly if I had BIID because I wished I couldn’t talk at all.

I know that all sounds ridiculous but that’s legitimately what it’s like. I can speak, so there is never any reason whatsoever I should be allowed to use text-to-speech or sign language when I don’t “have” to, and the people in my life who know I can “run a marathon” when I have to will never allot me any sympathy or lenience.

#I have had this written out for a LONG time #not even in my drafts‚ in a google doc #I was that nervous to post it #but that post inspired me #autism #disability

[twst-campos13]

Could you do a Dire Crowley x Male teacher reader scenario nfsw please? I’m just in the mood now..

I dont take nsfw scenarios, only headcanons!! I’m sorry!! That’s probably my fault because I haven’t fixed the link for the rules ヾ(￣0￣;ﾉ I made this as a (kind of) general nsfw hcs but your relationship with Crowley is more of a fwb type!!

I hope this satisfies you still  ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀

Warnings: NSFW UNDERCUT!! MINORS DNI Tags: semi-public, light restraints (mention), mild degradation, praise kink, male!reader

"...now, don't forget to turn in your essays on Thursday next week. Take note: it is a two-page, essay!"

You sighed at how eager your students left the classroom, knowing well that they couldn't wait for you to dismiss them anyway. Not that you mind. You're well aware that your students are tired for the day so you rewarded them with an early dismissal.

"No pushing and running out the door now! Show some respect for your subject teacher. Goodness!"

Ah, yes, the early dismissal was for another thing, too.

The Headmaster dropped by (literally) to provide "extra motivation" for students after classes. It was rather thoughtful of him to do so...if you weren't well aware of his other endeavors to have him flock to you after classes.

"What a kind sir you are, rewarding your students greatly!" Headmaster Crowley chuckled almost akin to a crow. You stacked your teaching books neatly to one side before turning around to meet the headmaster. Both of you nearly bumped noses with each other. Well, in this case, you nearly poked yourself in the eye with the beak of his mask. You smiled when Crowley composed himself but did not set a distance.

"And I suppose you would want a reward too?"

The sudden stiffness of his posture is enough of an answer.

You tilt your head at him, a smile that only Crowley can decipher. "Alright. Who am I to deny my gracious headmaster?"

➸ To make things clear between the both of you: you're more than friends but less than lovers. The students don't really know if you guys are dating or not. The juniors try to make it their business but failed to get any straight answers.

➸ The Headmaster is a switch, definitely, but leaning more towards being a power bottom. It's in his entire vibe. He may exude mysterious daddy vibes that can bend you over his office table and pound your ass but think about it--only bottoms TALK SO DAMN MUCH-

➸ Look me in the eyes and tell me this man doesn't release bratty power bottom energy.

➸ He's got a mix of praise and degrading kink. With praise, he is willing to give it as he likes receiving it. You can see imaginary feathers ruffle up when he drinks in your honey praises. He loves it when you tell him what a good boy he is while you're stroking his hair. At the same time, he loves being called a rotten, perverted man as you tightly grip his hair.

➸ You actually didn't think he would have a degrading kink. You thought he'd be so into that but you observed with your sessions together that he deserves more praises than insults. You tried to balance the two but you realized that degrading him when he starts getting bratty then easing into praises is a better way to make him more pliable.

➸ Though, when Crowley praises you, he really sings them. He becomes a bumbling fool when he's under you, taking your cock (or his cock when you wanna ride him) eagerly and stammering praises of how good you feel and how amazing you are. He can make you blush by the eloquence of his compliments.

➸ Having sex naked is for rare and more intimate moments. Most of the time (and Crowley wordlessly insists) you both get frisky with only half your clothes off. You already know why ;)

➸ "There's something sexy about neckties, yknow? So sharp and elegant." | "Dire, if you have any particular interest in light bondage you can tell me."

➸ He's not wrong is he? Impromptu and light bondage is his preference. Even though he wants it to be done to him mostly, he'd still ask you if you're fine with a bit of restraints! If you are then get ready for a lot of flirting that involves tie pulling and tie bondage LMAO

➸ Another kink of his: he likes to gift you pieces of jewelry that you graciously wear yourself. He doesn't want you to take them off especially when you fuck.

➸ Fucking....crows.....

➸ He's a raven actually but-

➸ HE ALSO MAKES USE OF YOUR TITLE AS A TEACHER. HE CALLS YOU SIR. In every!! way!! he gets to!! You know he's a brat needing your attention when his sir sounds a little more than professional.

➸ You wonder where this man's decency is because he always wants to do it with you after classes or at his office. You indulge him anyways; grinding your arousal with each other, an intense and heated make-out session against the desk, until you pull away and tell him that you both should take it elsewhere lest your students walk in with. They do not need to be traumatized.

➸ Quickies and semi-public sex with Crowley hit differently when you two take it to bed, though. When you're out doing frivolous activities at school like two rowdy teenagers, there's this almost rebellious atmosphere, the thrill of doing the act. However, in private that atmosphere completely shifts and you'd find yourself wondering if there's any meaning to your intimate dance

➸ And when aftercare happens that warm feeling just grows. He always insists on taking care of you after sex. He does the equivalent of preening (from what you noticed) which is stroking your head and nuzzling your neck. He cleans you up from your neck down to your feet then bundles you in blankets. This level of comfort doesn't happen when you fuck at school but he makes it up by fixing your uniform and buying you food.

➸ You scold him when he takes too long cleaning around your dick though.

➸ Could you be more than friends that are not less than lovers? That's a conversation for both of you to tackle next time.  

#detroitsmash #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst #dire crowley #headmaster crowley #dire crowley x reader #male!reader #twisted wonderland dire crowley #i hope youre still in the mood #idk what i just wrote ajfae

[avenger-hawk]

Hi you have a great understanding of Sasuke's character and awesome blog. Could I ask you for tips on how to write Sasuke right in fanfiction? When I try I never seem to get him right

Hello and thanks Anon. First of all, y’all don’t get offended if I’ll destroy some of your fave tropes in fics...I don’t judge ppl writing what they want in their fics, it’s their own fic so ofc they write what they want and how they want it and if they have fun with gay-uncle-Izuna, CEOItachi and sluttySasuke good for them...but when ppl impose their OOC Sasuke (or Nar or Itachi&co) as the real thing, and boy if they do....well. Nope.

Anyway I replied to similar asks here, here and here, so I’ll copy-paste some parts. My Sasuke tag. More Sasuke meta. More headcanons. More essays tag.

Sasuke is not dominant. He’s not bossy. He’s not assertive. He’s very passive in relationships and he values individual freedom, his own and other people’s. Ppl mistake his determination in pursuing his goals with assertiveness but it’s a totally different thing. He never makes the first move with ppl, unless he has a goal and he needs them, and even when he needs them, like Taka, he never imposes his will on them. He first freed them then he asked their help for his own goal, saying that he would accept if they refused. He never imposed himself on his brother (a child wanting his big brother’s attention is not being dominant, it’s natural) and he never did it on Nar or anyone else.

Sasuke is not selfish, he is the most selfless character in the whole series. He respected people, he didn’t see himself above them. He didn’t see himself as a genius or anything. He worked hard because he had a low self esteem, he was always compared to Itachi and he always lost. He was humble enough to ask others’ help, like asking N*ruto how S*kura was able to climb the tree with chakra in the beginning, or asking Team Taka’s help to find Itachi, asking Kakashi to make him stronger and following Orochimaru for more strength. And during all these, he was thrown in his face parts of the tragic truth about Itachi and his clan and he always had to get back on his feet and fight more. His world crumbled so many times on him and yet not only he reacted but he always was able to help those around him. Not with big words like N*ruto but really, freeing Orochimaru’s prisoners, Taka, and earlier protecting his team from Gaara, protecting N*ruto from Haku, and later proitecting N*ruto from Kaguya and then protecting the whole world from her, protecting Itachi’s ideal, his sacrifice from those who threatened to make it useless. He was ready to become the world’s only enemy to keep them together, following what he thought Itachi had taught him indirectly.

Sasuke is neither possessive nor jealous. He never showed any sign of possessiveness or jealousy towards anyone. He protected Taka and N*ruto. He defended Itachi’s name, unlike too many like to think: when he threatens Danzo to stop talking about Itachi it’s not because he’s jealous but because he doesn’t want that bastard to talk shit about his perfect brother, especially cause that bastard was the reason of his ruin. He was defending his name from an enemy and it was pure and selfless, not possessive at all! Proof of this is when Hashirama praises him instead, Sasuke is happy. He likes people to speak about his brother in a good way! When they were children Itachi always dismissed Sasuke who pouted but never got really angry or jealous at Shisui for example. And at the end of the fight vs Kabuto he aknowledged Itachi’s resolve to leave even tho it broke his heart to lose him again, and he let Itachi go with the saddest face but the utmost respect.

Sasuke is not arrogant. He has a low self-esteem. He was raised in the shadow of his genius brother, he suffered for his father not noticing him, he later developed an inferiority complex towards N*ruto as well because of his quick progress, compared to his own that he perceived as slower and not enough (that’s why he joined Orochimaru). When he brags it’s not because he’s the bragging type (aka N*ruto, Kiba &co) but it’s because he’s either making fun of N*ruto, since they were rivals/friends (not to mention it’s a shounen trope) and, even more so, because he is proud of his achievements. He worked so hard always and when he created a jutsu or smth he says it. Because he has low self esteem but he’s not socially awkward or shy or whatever (see later paragraph). So he is proud of his own results. (which is also a very TE thing, for those who care about mbti stuff).

Sasuke doesn’t value his life much. This is a result of his low self-esteem, which leads to poor sense of self-preservation (to prove that he’s strong, like when he was a genin and he trained so hard,and later to pursue his goals, for which he’d give his body to Orochimaru and his life over and over). Also he is so determined to achieve his goals that he’d do anything for them. He was ready to die on many occasions in canon for this and even later, after the ending, he’s seeing himself as a tool. Also, he never really got over the sense of worthlessness first caused by his father and then by Itachi’s words the night of the massacre. Not in a real life trauma-like thing, but as a way to see himself. this means that all those stereotypical rocking back and forth, cutting, whatever behaviors are not like him, who always got back to his feet and lived, although not for himself but for his goals.

Sasuke is not bitchy or spoiled. If he was he would have a great self esteem, and he clearly showed to have a very low self esteem instead. He never made anything about him actually, as all his goals were about others, his family, his brother, and so on. He was the one who did better teamwork in team7 actually, and he protected his friends and comrades, not to mention he freed Orochimaru’s prisoners and fought for the village and its people. How is this spoiled or bitchy, and btw, bitchy ppl do get offended and he never paid attention to offenses towards him, only towards his brother.

Sasuke is neither the haughty élite type nor the shy/socially anxious/‘emo’ type. He is neither Neji nor H*nata. He is aloof, he is always lost in his own thoughts and he doesn’t care about socializing because he wants to become strong, because he cared more about his family and goals, because he cared more about their opinion than the opinion of classmates. He valued strength since the beginning, being raised the way he was raised, so he valued the praise of strong people and not of the others, unlike those who seek praise from everyone. On the other hand his being aloof doesn’t mean he can’t have normal interactions, and the fact that he doesn’t use honorifics doesn’t mean he has socialization problems. Only that he doesn’t pay attention to these things anymore. He was always pragmatic, and after the massacre he became pragmatic to an extreme level, cutting off all unnecessary things, manners included. It doesn’t mean, though, that he doesn’t respect some people (=those he deems strong. Including Team Taka). He just shows it through actions.

Sasuke is not se/xually aggressive/dominant/whatever. He is too busy with his own goals to have se/xual or romantic thoughts (unlike other characters both male and female, not just Karin but also S*kura, Ino, and ofc N*ruto). I wouldn’t define this being asexual tho, because their universe is not ours and I’m sick&tired of all the real world/Nar universe parallels. He’s passive in relationship and on many occasions he showed indifference to se/xual anything, not disgust. Just, it wasn’t his thought. Because he is on a different wavelength. So even when he told characters to not be so close to him or smth, he didn’t move away, he just told them, which kinda proves my point once more of how passive he is towards ppl and relationships, he just lets them be. On the other hand, aceSas is better than hornydominantSas that is so OOC it hurts, be it with Itachi, Nar, S*kura or whatever other girls/boys.

Most MAIN characters didn’t understand/didn’t try to understand him. The ones who understood him more are unexpectedly not his friends. Not counting Taka ofc.

Sasuke is passive. He is the yin and N*ruto is the yang. In case this isn’t clear. It’s canon. Kishi used a yin/yang parallel for him and N*ruto, so while N*ruto is yang/sun/warm/ positive/active/male principle in nature/masculine, Sasuke is yin/moon/cold/negative/passive/passive/female principle in nature/feminine. Passive doesn’t mean weak. It means receptive, adaptable, flexible, which Sasuke is, since he’s the one who adapted his life and goals to new events, truths and changes, unlike most others who just kept going their own way no matter what (see N*ruto or Itachi). Many see him as assertive because he faces every situation in a very determined manner, taking actions and deciding everything independently. But being an independent thinker has nothing to do with being assertive or passive. I say he’s passive because he actually always reacts to what life (or Itachi) throws at him, every time. His reactions are quick and strategic, so it’s easy to miss this, but still, again, Itachi or N*ruto actively engage the environment and life, and influence other people, not Sasuke. He’s also passive with people, in relatioships. He never seeks anyone unless it’s for practical reasons, he only reacts to them approaching him. And he reacts in a very calm way, quite mild compared to how determined and detached he is, considering that a lot of characters invade his personal space or more, in the whole series. When he chases after Itachi it’s because he’s his younger brother and it’s natural for them, and mostly because Itachi set up his life so that he would focus on him, still it’s Itachi who is assertive, and he reacts in return. He makes a deal with Orochimaru, to obtain strength and give him his body in return. When he forms Team Taka, before asking their help, he first gives them freedom and only then he asks them to join him, making it clear that he won’t force them if they’ll refuse. He gives them something before asking something in return. This is not just a passive thing but something more because he is not selfish, like I said before.

Sasuke is an independent thinker. Unlike other smart thinkers like Itachi or Madara, to whom the story associated him, Sasuke was kept in the dark about many things, so he developed his own view of the world later, but when he did it was original and unique, just like his fighting style and strategy.

Sasuke is private about his thoughts and feelings but he’s also honest about them. Itachi is mysterious and not honest about his feelings, not him. He is aloof, it’s different. Just because he doesn’t trust many people and he’s lost in his own thoughts it doesn’t mean he is a shoujo mysterious character lol.

Sasuke is goal oriented. He does whatever it takes to achieve his goals. He would have given his body as a vessel for Orochimaru, not caring about what would happen to him, as long as he could have his revenge. He would have lived an eternity in solitude so that the world would have lived in peace. And, again, his goals are never about himself.

Sasuke wanted to die after he killed Itachi, but then when he woke up and was told the truth he had another purpose, and so he lived on.

Sasuke admires and respects strength but he’s not power thirsty. He wanted to become strong because he wanted to be worthy of Itachi and his father, than because he had to avenge his clan, then he had to avenge Itachi. It’s because he had low self-esteem and was selfless that he sought power. He wanted to be beside his father and brother, not to surpass them, actually. It’s Itachi who talked about surpassing.

Sasuke is very smart and logical, but he is easily manipulated with the right arguments. Like using Itachi, or appealing to his low self esteem, his feeling of worthlessness, his emotions. Because people who are logical are actually not emotionless. In fact they have a hard time controlling their emotions when they feel strongly, and this can be seen clearly every time Sasuke loses control. He becomes more impulsive than N*ruto who instead gets calmer, because he’s more in touch with his emotions (lol ofc he is, everything is always about his own emotions and feelings). Sasuke puts his feelings and emotions aside to reach his goals, he acts logically and pragmatically, he observes, makes plans, finds the better ways to do things, no matter how hard or dangerous for him they are. He has logical arguments even though they appear ‘crazy’ to other characters, and it’s sad to see how in the end he was belittled by N*ruto, as if his arguments were meaningless, they were not addressed at all, just deemed wrong, not with counterarguments but with illogical emotion based words that just made him feel unstable, as it happens when you have logical arguments and they tell you ‘you’re just depressed, you don’t get things right’.

In the end, he was tamed into submission. He was defeated, put in jail, isolated, guilt tripped and berated because of his ideals and goals, denied the justice he rightfully demanded.

All these can be observed directly. Others, more subtle things about him I wrote here, towards the end of this long post.

#sasuke #I don’t have much motivation to reply to asks tbh but this is important I guess #Anonymous #vivalarevolution: visions #vivalarevolution #vivalarevolution: not crazy but desperate

[songtoyou]

Epiphany - Part Four

Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,080

Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery. Swearing and self-doubt.

Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.  

A/N: I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write and upload this chapter. I have not been feeling so good since I posted that last chapter. Lots of anxiety keeping me from doing things such as write. Anyway, here is the new chapter. I wanted to write about Aunt Janet. I felt that the show didn’t really tell us much about her except that she took care of the kids after the events of Hill House in 1992. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people are actually liking this fic.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @morningstar09

~Aunt Janet’s House – 2002 ~

“Luke! Hurry up, or you’re going to be late for school!” Aunt Janet yelled up the stairs.

“Luke! Come on!” exclaimed Nellie. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Janet. Her youngest nephew often worried her, especially since it was the tenth anniversary of Olivia’s death this past summer. Janet started to notice that Luke became more recluse and stayed up in his room. The only person Luke would interact with was Nell, which was not surprising to Janet. The twins only managed to become closer as they got older.

What really began to cause Janet to worry was catching Luke steal money from her purse. She asked him what he was doing and why he was stealing. However, Luke could come up with a pretty decent lie about needing money to buy flowers for Olivia’s grave.

In truth, it was to buy beer. Luke had taken a liking to the barley and hops beverage. It helped him feel numb and not worry about anything. Unfortunately, Luke had one too many beers last night and was paying for it. Nellie found him headfirst in the toilet regurgitating the contents of his late-night beer binge.

“Eww, gross. What is wrong with you?” asked Nellie. She pinched her nose as the stench of Luke’s puke was overwhelming.

“What does it look like! I’m sick! Tell Aunt Janet that I can’t go to school.”

“Luke, come on. You have missed too many days already. They’re going to hold you back another year if you miss any more school,” Nellie argued while searching through Luke’s drawers and closet for clothes.

Luke managed to get up from the bathroom floor when he felt it was safe. He rinsed out his mouth to relieve it from the after taste of throw-up.

“Come on! Get cleaned up and put these on,” ordered Nell and shoved Luke’s clothes in his arms.

Luke groaned and plopped down on his bed. “Nellie…I can’t go to school today. I’m too sick.”

“Well, your sickness is also making me sick, but I managed to get up and ready for school today. Now move it! I’ll keep bugging you if you don’t move. I’m not going to let you fall to the waste side. Do you hear me, Luke?”

“Fine! I’m getting dressed!” Luke yelled to get Nellie off of his back.

No matter what occurred between them, neither twin could ever hate the other. They were each other’s best friends and closest confidante. They had to be. Especially now that they were the last two left in Aunt Janet’s care. As soon as their eldest siblings turned eighteen, they hightailed it out of Janet’s house for college.

Luke slowly trudges down the stairs with his backpack slumped on his shoulders.

“Hey, there he is,” greeted Aunt Janet. “Would you like some breakfast, sweetie?”

“No! No breakfast,” Luke replied with his head on the table.

However, Nellie pushed a plate of dry toast in front of him and told him to at least nibble some bites. “Here’s some orange juice. Take slow sips. The last thing we need is you spewing junks in the toilet again,” whispered Nellie while Aunt Janet was in the kitchen. She would not out that her brother was hungover. That last thing Nell wanted was to cause any more trouble for Luke.

She knew why Luke did not want to go to school, and it had to do with, what else, their family. Some of the kids at school saw Luke as an easy target to bully and terrorize. The topic of their “messed-up” family was their go-to whenever they wanted to antagonize Luke. Nell often found herself a target for bullies but could stand up for herself a lot better than Luke.

With the anniversary of Olivia’s death, the bullies made it their mission to torment Luke about growing up without a mother or father. They would push him against the lockers, knocking his glasses off his face, and trip him in the hallways. It was too much to handle, and Luke was tired.

Leaning back in his chair, Luke re-read the words on the computer screen. His instructor loved the essay he turned in and advised him to expand upon it. Luke pushed aside his reservations about exploring his past traumas through writing. It was a better outlet for Luke to help cope and tackle past stressful life experiences.  Not only did Luke have support from his instructor and you, but his counselor at Banyan Treatment Center, Rob, also supported the idea of using expressive writing as a way to heal.

Luke could not deny that writing helped clear his head. Something he learned while being in rehab back in Los Angeles. It allowed him to face things from his past that he had pushed aside. However, Luke had some reservations about how much he should…open himself up when it comes to sorting out his past events. There were still things that Luke was not quite ready to face.  

Oh my God!" exclaimed Luke. "It has been a month and a half since we have seen that movie. It would be best if you got over the ending. It happened. There is nothing you can do about it."

"I can't, Luke. It was total bullshit!" you yelled back furiously.

Luke calmly said your name to get your attention. "Listen to me; we don't even know if Steve Rogers actually stayed back in time to be with Peggy. He may have…"

"Then where did he go? Huh? He just up and left his friends who he just got back. Steve and Peggy never even dated! They kissed, that is it. Yes, there was an attraction that each had for one another, but that was all it ever way…an attraction. They are a 'what could have been' type of couple—the movie completely throughout all of Steve's character development…right out the window. Whatever, I'm over it," you stated, throwing your hands up in defeat.

You and Luke were driving to his Aunt Janet's house for a visit. He mentioned to you about wanting to visit his aunt for some time but had not gotten around to it. You were surprised that he asked you to come along.

Luke mentioned that Shirley and Theo were too busy to come with him and did not want to go alone. You agreed on the condition that he drive since Aunt Janet lived an hour and a half away from Wilmington. Lately, your anxiety has been going up and down, so you were not comfortable being at the hands of the wheel, especially on the freeway. You did not understand why you had such anxiety these past few days. You chalked it up to being nervous about your final project at school. The assignment was to create a self-portrait. It should be simple enough, but of course, the art instructor wanted students to "think outside of the box" and not have it be a regular standard portrait of themselves.

Each draft you came up with was of you in some state of turmoil, whether it be you depicted on a gurney getting resuscitated from your heroin overdose or lying in a pool of your own vomit. You could not understand why this particular project was giving you such a hard time. You were three-years sober. You had a steady job and gone back to school. Your relationship with your parents was better than ever. So, why the thought of a self-portrait brought upon negative thoughts about oneself?

You mentioned your troubles to Luke, and he was very sympathetic. While he was now 206 days sober, there were times where he felt…like the achievement did not mean much.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked him while on the way to Aunt Janet's house.

"It's just…this isn't my first rodeo when it comes to recovery," Luke began to say. "There is always this little voice in the back of my head that…"

"That it is only temporary. I have that little voice too. I'm not too fond of that little voice. Three years sober, and there are times where I still feel like a total failure. I shouldn't, but…I can't help it," you revealed to Luke honestly.

"Thankfully, there is another little voice in the back of my head that gives tells me that I'm doing a good job now and then. It's just that positive little voice has been a tad quiet lately," you added.

Luke could pick up on the little defeatist tone in your voice, and he did not like it. You immediately felt his worry about you. "Hey," you said to get his attention and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about me, okay. I'm fine. I have my fears like every recovering addict. It is nice to talk to someone about it, particularly someone who understands, you know. That helps."

Silence soon filled the car, but it was not awkward. You never had awkward or uncomfortable silences with Luke. For some reason, Luke was one of the few comforting presences in your life. Regardless of all of the hardships he has gone through in his life, he offered a sense of hopefulness. With his 6'3 stature, Luke really came off more like a gentle giant. It was like he did not view himself as this grown tall man, but probably still felt like that little kid hiding under the bed from the "Tall Man" at Hill House.

"Luke," you said to get his attention. "Are you happy?"

"No," he replied immediately, then clarified when he saw the look you gave him. "I mean, am I happy that I am over 200 days clean, then yes I am, very much so. But…I don't know, there is a small part of me that is scared to be happy…to be content in fear of something going wrong."

When Luke pulled the car into Aunt Janet's driveway, the older woman immediately came out of the house to greet her youngest nephew.

"There he is, my little boy," she said and wrapped her arms around Luke, which he reciprocated.

"Hi Aunt Janet, how are you?"

"I'm fine, darling. How have you been?" Aunt Janet asked, pulling away to get a good look at Luke. He looked much better than he did at Nell's funeral.

"Good. I'm doing good. Everyone is doing…fine," Luke replied, then turned towards you. He introduced you as his friend and not his sponsor to his Aunt, which kind of surprised you.

"So nice to meet you," said Aunt Janet taking your hand. She motioned for you both to follow her into the house. "I hope you both are hungry. I made an array of sandwiches and salads for lunch. Luke, I also made your favorite…chocolate pecan pie bars."

"Thank the Lord because he was hoping you would make them on the car ride here. It was all he talked about?" you teased.

"Once you have one, then you will know what I am talking about," Luke responded with a smile.

Aunt Janet lead you both into the kitchen.

"Can I use the bathroom to freshen up?" you asked her.

"Oh yes, dear. It is down that hallway, the first door to the right," told Aunt Janet as she showed you where to go. "Luke, you should probably wash your hands first," she added.

"Yes, Aunt Janet," he said and went to the sink to wash his hands.

When you were no longer in earshot, Aunt Janet stood beside her nephew and said, "Your friend seems really sweet."

Luke could not hold back his smile, "Yeah, she is genuinely nice. She's fun to hang out with. We have a lot of the same interests. Shirley and Theo have met her as well," he mentioned and shared that both of his sisters really liked you.

Aunt Janet turned her head to see if you came if you were around the corner. When you were not, she leaned over to Luke and said, "Very pretty too. She'd make a lovely…"

"Aunt Janet, she is just a friend. I can't date her anyway. She's…they say you shouldn't date anyone while still in recovery."

"I'm so proud of you," Aunt Janet said as she placed the food on the kitchen table. "You are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

Luke would be lying to himself if he denied that there was some form of attraction that he had for you, both physically and emotionally. He knew that the feelings that he was slowly developing towards you could be considered wrong. You were his sponsor…a dedicated one at that too. It would not be right for him to act on any attraction he may have for you—no doubt, that you would not reciprocate them, which would be disappointing to Luke.

"Better to just suffer in silence," Luke thought to himself.

"Don't you want a girlfriend? A family of your own someday?" asked Aunt Janet.

"Yeah…maybe. Someday. I'm just learning to take care of myself without drugs in my system. There is no way I can be a dedicated father or husband to anyone… at least not right now. I am still a work in progress," Luke admitted to his aunt. "I do like…" But Luke stopped when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Oh, my goodness. The pictures on the wall… I'm assuming the little kid with glasses is you, Luke."

The three of you sat around the kitchen table with your plates stacked with delicious food.

"Luke was the absolute cutest kid. He had a little lisp as well," Aunt Janet shared. "I have more pictures of the kids if you would like to see them?"

"Yes," you replied ecstatically.

"No," Luke disputed, "We are in the middle of eating."

"We can multitask. Let's see those pictures," you asserted gleefully while Aunt Janet got up from the table.

With a belly full of food, the three you were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking tea, and eating Aunt Janet's yummy chocolate pecan pie bars. You already looked through three photo albums that showed Luke and his siblings' younger years.

"I wanted to take as many pictures as I could of the kids. They hated it, but I told 'em they would appreciate it when they got older," expressed Aunt Janet. "Here's a picture of Nell on her wedding day. That's her husband, Arthur. Sadly, he passed away a couple of months after they got married. But…they are together now."

You looked at the photo of the young couple. Nell looked very much like her older sisters and her mother. You could tell that there was a kindness about Nell just by looking at the picture. She was the type of person to go above and beyond for her family and even strangers. Luke would say that Nell was just that type of person to care about everyone, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Luke did share with you that one of his biggest regrets was not going to Nell's wedding. He said that he tried, but Shirley told him to leave. Luke said that it was for the best and that he was in no right state of mind to support his twin the way she deserved on her wedding day.

Thankfully for Luke, Nell understood and held no hard feelings. She never did when it came to her other half.

Aunt Janet began to sniffle, and when you looked up from the photo, you saw the older woman dab her eyes with a napkin. Out of instinct, Luke grabbed his Aunt's tiny hand and squeezed it with his as a way to show support. Just as he was Aunt Janet's little boy, Nell was her little girl. She was the one to raise them, take care of them, and guide them into adulthood.

None of the Crain children were perfect; they were far beyond that notion. However, there is no denying that if they did not have Aunt Janet take care of them and love them, they could have been worse off. Luke had the overwhelming feeling of guilt encompassing him at the moment as Aunt Janet tried to hold back her tears.

You instantly looked up at Luke. You could feel his sense of guilt towards the way he treated his aunt while growing up. He looked over at you. It was a silent conversation you both were having between one another. You mouthed, "Do you want me to go?" so he could have this moment alone.

With a shake of his head, 'No,' Luke spoke up to get his aunt's attention. "Aunt Janet…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for…for all the Hell I put you through while living here. You did so much for Nell and me, and the others that I…shit all over it. I stole and lied to you like it was my job. You deserved better. I just want you to know that…me getting hooked on drugs…well…that was…no matter what had happened…it was my choice to go down that path of destruction. I love you, Aunt Janet, and I am so appreciative of the sacrifices you made for my siblings and me. I wish that I weren't such a fuck up…"

"Oh sweetheart, no, you are not a…fuck up," Aunt Janet interjected and continued, "Not at all. I love you so much that…I would do anything for you, you know that, right? Your childhood is in the past. It happened. It is a part of you. The fact that you are continuing to remain clean after all that has occurred…well, that is something you should be most proud of. It shows that you are dedicated to your sobriety and turning your life around. No one said this process was easy, but you stayed the course and continued to make good decisions. As I told you earlier, you are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

"Now, I'm going to cry," Luke giggled as he dabbed his eyes with a napkin. "I didn't mean to turn this into a sob fest, but I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I put you through and that I love you very much, Aunt Janet."

Aunt Janet emerged from her seat to wrap her arms around her nephew and kiss the top of his head. It was a sweet moment to witness.

#luke crain #luke crain x reader #luke crain x female reader #the haunting of hill house #oliver jackson cohen

[long-after-love]

ON GEORGE – The youngest Beatle

(Originally written my Vietnamese for the local community, but I modified it a bit to post it here, since I love this essay so much... sorry for the self-indulgence)

First and foremost, I love the Beatles for their music. But there are also many other groups that I like because of their music, yet none ever had a permanent place in my heart like The Beatles does. I suppose I'm not really a music lover at heart, I don't care much about tastes, accolades, criticisms, records, and I'm not the type of person trying to express my personality through my taste in films, books or bands. If my love for Beatles could be divided into ten parts, three would be for the music, and seven would be for their history and anecdotes.

Ages ago, well, perhaps months ago, I received an anon ask about George that I couldn’t even recall at the moment. Must be something about George being unintellectual and a bit unaware of things. But I don’t think I was being overly critical of George – this is a John and Paul blog, but George was my first crush and when you think about your first crush, how you grew out of it and slowly learned how to fall in love again – you feel a bit embarrassing, but it is still something you hold dear, you just put it in a realistic light.

Now I think of George as the youngest, the cutes Beatle, though normally the moniker Cute Beatle belongs to Paul, I guess people were overly impressed with his doe eyes and rat bunny teeth. I couldn’t disagree with George’s _“Quiet One” _image more, George is anything but a supposedly spiritual, enlightened  person. Recently, with the celebration of All Things Must Pass’s 50th anniversary, people have even more reasons to buy that image. But is that really the case?

My perception of George started to change when I came across an interview with John and Yoko in 1971 with Peter McCabe. I think most of you are familiar with this:

 MCCABE: Let’s talk a bit about George. He’s perhaps the most enigmatic Beatle. Are you saying George is more conventional than he makes himself out to be?

JOHN: There’s no telling George. He always has a point of view about that wide, you know. [John places his hands a few inches apart.] You can’t tell him anything.

YOKO: George is sophisticated, fashionwise…

JOHN: He’s very trendy, and he has the right clothes, and all of that…

YOKO: But he’s not sophisticated, intellectually.

JOHN: No. He’s very narrow-minded and he doesn’t really have a broader view. Paul is far more aware than George. One time in the Apple office in Wigmore Street, I said something to George, and he said, “I’m as intelligent as you, you know.” This must have been resentment, but he could have left anytime if I was giving him a hard time.

MCCABE: What did you say?

JOHN: I didn’t answer. Of course, he’s got an inferiority complex working with Paul and me.

YOKO: In the case of Paul, it’s not that he’s not sophisticated. I’m sure that he’s intellectually sophisticated as well. It’s just that he’s aware, and yet he doesn’t want to know.

JOHN: Whereas George doesn’t really know what’s happening, you know.

— John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe & Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

 For those who firmly believed in George's “Quiet One” image (where quietness is meant to show enlightened reticence), the above interview can make their blood boil, but in fact, if you read the Beatles biographies carefully, you have to realize that John and Yoko’s observance, albeit being absurdly blunt and mean-spirited, was true. George was a spiritual person from his late twenties to his death, but he was never enlightened type, the sage-like type. I always appreciate the innocent part of his nature more, even though he, at times, acted unseemly. There are many funny and endearing anecdotes surrounding George that prove it, told by family and close friends of the Beatles since the band was unknown. Here I only pointed out three of them.

The first story is the look on George's face. On the stage, George stood silently a bit behind John and Paul, rarely smiled. Since the Cavern days, girls had asked Louise Harrison, George's mother, why George wouldn't laugh. What Mrs. Louise revealed turned out to be nothing complicated: George was afraid of making mistakes (Davies, 2009). When people are concentrating, their facial expressions will naturally become serious. And thus, just as naturally, the unknowing seriousness gave George some mysterious air that subtly differed him from the fierce John and the bouncy Paul.

Second, I would like to quote from John and Cyn, as seen on some earlier post:

“When George was a kid, he used to follow me and my first girlfriend Cynthia. We would come out of the art school together and he’d be hovering around.Cyn and I would be going to a coffee shop or a movie and George would follow us down the street two hundred yards behind. Cyn would say, ‘Who is that guy? What does he want?’ And I’d say, 'He just wants to hang out. Should we take him with us?’ She’d say, 'Oh, OK, let’s take him to the bloody movies.’ So we’d allow him to come to the movies with us. That’s the sort of relationship it was.” 

- John Lennon

“Hi John, Hi Cyn.’ He would hurriedly catch us up and then it would be, 'Where are you two off to? Can I come?’ Neither of us would have the heart to tell this thin gangly kid in school uniform to push off. Poor George! He hand’t really got to the stage of serious girlfriends yet and was totally unaware of what it was all about, Alfie! So we would spend the lost afternoon as a jolly threesome, wondering what on earth we were going to do with ourselves.” 

- Cynthia Powell

In addition, Cynthia also told this story in her book, John (2005): 

“It was appendicitis and I was stuck in hospital for two weeks. After a couple of days John came to visit me, dragging George with him. I had been so desperate to see him, and was so frustrated when I saw George, that I burst into tears. Shocked, John told George to hop it and held my hand for an hour to mollify me. After a while my mum arrived, and later took John and George back to our house for tea.”

Please note this little detail: John went to the hospital to see his sick girlfriend, but apparently George insisted to tag along. When John saw Cyn crying, he asked George to leave, George seemed to hang outside, waiting for John to finish his visit. This is very telling: how desperate George wanted to hang out with John then! With the part where Cynthia's mother invited both John and George home for tea, Mrs. Powell probably had been familiar with this little boy who followed John and Cyn all the time.

I would like to give another example with Astrid Kirchherr’s memory of George. It was 1960 – Astrid and Stuart Sutcliffe were in love, but this still didn't stop the naive little George just seventeen years old then, and Astrid was certainly moved by his sweetness, quoted from The Beatles (2009) by Hunter Davies: 

“I got on like a house on fire with George. He'd never met anyone like me before and he showed it, so openly and sweetly. After all, he was only 17. There was me, the sort of intelligent girl he'd never come across before, with my own car, working as a photographer, and wearing leather jackets. It was natural he would be very interested in me. I never fancied him or anything like that. It wasn't that sort of thing. I was five years older, so it didn't matter being open. We got on great.”

You may argue: but it was just baby George! Oh, I couldn’t agree with that, my good friend. I think George’s attitude was always like that – he was the youngest child of his parents and the youngest boy of Beatles – he was immature, not very worldly and made questionable choices, especially in his effort to butter up John by recording HDYS: it wasn’t fruitful as it was self-defeating: John, all in all, just saw him as the kid that tagged along.

After the Beatles’ break up, George always seemed most annoyed with the Beatles, most frustrated about the past. But it seems that George only overreacted because he was tired and powerless against the morbid curiosity of the press and fans for decades. I think if George hated the Beatles or hated Paul as he made himself to be, then George would not have held Paul’s hand reminiscing about the past, nor chosen to die at Paul's house (I know Paul lent him the house, but George wasn’t too broke to rent a house near the treatment facility). Thus, with such an attitude, I couldn’t take him seriously as a spiritual person, but hell, wasn’t he a lovely man with all the flaws?

#george harrison #the beatles #john lennon #my take.txt

[titconao3]

tagged by @beguilewritesstuff​

i’m going to change the formatting bcs i’m evil like that and must ramble on, feel free to ignore. as usual, i take these things way to literally and i don’t understand the questions, probably.

tagging: whoever’s into this!

indoor plants or gardens: depends on whether we’re talking in my place, or everywhere. If everywhere, both. If my place, none: i can’t be arsed to take proper care. also i’ve tried to have plants in pots and i tried to Do Things Right and it didn’t work out, so... i gave up. know thyself and thy limits etc

cloud-watching or star-gazing  both yes both, as long as i have proper eye-protection from the sun for option 1.

water or fire ...uuuh.... watching a fire in a hearth etc (i mean, not Nero style, obv) is great? but the ocean too? i don’t understand T_T

paperback or hardcover hardcover: too heavy. but i often use an e-reader.

running or hiking: omg neither. running means dying lungs, Extremely Painful Knees, etc very quickly. Hiking is... idk, everything is bad: i get all the branches in my face, all the rocks start moving when i step on them, etc. Put me in a city and i can walk for hours; put me in nature and i #suffer. i have also been somewhat traumatized by people claiming “Oh come one it’s a small easy walk not even a HIKE” and it was in fact climbing up a small mountain with very narrow, gravely, unstable paths hugging the side of the mountain and if you stumbled, ti meant a fall so SOMEHOW i have become Extra Wary of the word “hiking”

sleeping with socks or without socks although with wouldn’t be a problem. i use a hot water bottle in winter.

fruit or vegetables fruit only if i can use them in a salad, or cook them LIKE a veg.

hanging plants or succulents see above re indoor / outdoor plants. succulents also mean repotting etc; they’re not care-free.

dark wood or light wood both yes both. i have both at home, in the same room.

handwritten or typed typed is way easier to read. ofc if we’re talking postcard, personal letter etc, handwritten is more pleasant, personal touch etc. my handwriting is terrible, btw.

instagram or pinterest: neither. who wants to see my face or what i eat? no one, not even me. pinterest: i don’t even really understand what it’s for apart from thing to filter out of my google & co searches.

braids or pigtails: on me, neither. my hair refuses (because length when it’s short, because it’s not thick enough if not, and in any case it just Won’t Stay In Place)

dc or marvel i’m not super familiar with DC, although Batman is my kind of character.

books or movies why would i choose? my attention span has drastically reduced since childhood, but it means it affects both. 

oceans or meadows: meadows > flowers > sneezing.

forests or fields: see meadows above

sweet or salty oh yeah i’m def not one for sugar.

ice cream or chocolate you... you (person who created this) do know there’s chocolate ice-cream, right? but i’ll go with DARK chocolate. DARK only, 70% cocoa minimum. i can accept salt / pepper / coffee / mint if i MUST, in it. D A R K

hoodies or sweaters: tbh both but a hood is def good at times.

piercings or tattoos: i have or want neither. they’re cool on other people, but i don’t really feel a need for myself. If for other people, both, if for myself, neither.

summer or winter well, the cold is easier to deal with than the heat because once you’re naked you can’t take your skin off, but longer sunlight is good? probably??

boots or sneakers WhaT Am i DOinG How Am i SupPoseD tO KnoW

cars or motorcycles: public transportation ;-) but i have a licence for cars only, not motorcycles.

curls or straight hair: i have curls, if that is the question; on other people, idgaf

castles or cottages to visit? to live in? i mean, castles are super expensive to maintain... and what kind of castle? European Middle Ages? even among those, there is a Wide Variety in architecture. if we’re including more geographical & historical areas... 

sunny days or storms: once again, *bafflement* storms are really cool to watch but can be destructive, and sunny days can be too hot or painful if i don’t have sunglasses but are pleasant if mild...

reptiles or birds: as pets neither. i don't want to be responsible for a living thing, and end up not caring for them properly because i’m too tired / not in the mood etc. otherwise, i’m totally cool with both. however... birds are dinosaurs are reptiles (private joke moment!!! @pixelbypixelfanfic​ do you remember that museum). a baby bird pooped on my once, idk if that counts. oh and i got adult bird poop on me too. this hasn’t happened, yet, with reptiles.

disney or nickelodeon: (what about if you’re not the USA) i have never been into what we think of Disney (princesses and THE CONSTANT SINGING), and don’t have nickelodeon here

strawberries or watermelon: well i’m not into fruit or sweet things, as previously established. Watermelon can go into salads, and strawberries one in a while are okay i guess?

essays or posters... i don’t understand. posters go on wall? do you people put essays on walls??? what IS the question *sobs*

phones or laptops or desktop desktop because big screen, big keyboard, separate mouse: more comfortable. if not, laptop. if i’m desperate and far away from both, phone.

glass or stone i drink in glasses, i wear glasses, i have Pretty Decorative Stones. ik, what are we talking about?

dark or light: if it’s a computer screen setting, dark. if we’re in winter and outside, light, otherwise it’s too cold. i need context!!1!1!1!

photos or paintings: uuuuh. i have a few paintings from my grandfather around, but not photos. that's, um. i mean. photos... that’s... old? or are we talking about stuff that stays on your hard drive? i have a bunch, from trips. as long as my face isn’t there, cool; i take them to remember. i’ve found that the action of taking the pic was enough to help me remember, not necessarily looking at them again: because i make the conscious decision of taking the pic, thinking about what i want to preserve,et c, somehow it sets the brain drive into memory mode, at last better than if i didn’t take pics.

circuses or theatres: neither; RL, live shows make me uncomfortable.

reading or writing i do both but i only write fanfic.

dogs or cats i like both, i would have neither.

poetry or novels poetry just leaves me cold. i know, i know, how dare i.

monsters or ghosts why choose?? (shaniac though)

thrift shops or libraries: i like browsing through thrift shops, and i’ve lost my voracious Real Grownup Book reading obsession that i had in my younger years. i like looking at silly mugs and cute objects and sometimes i’ll buy something, and Do Good at the same time when they’re charity shops!

fiction or non-fiction both, although these days fiction is mostly fic.

#tagged #tagging game #tagging thing

[lanseax]

okay so give me your opinion on all the girls, who is your fave what are your thoughts

HELL YES, thank you for giving me permission to spill my soul (obviously gonna contain spoilers)

dot: Love her, her story breaks my heart, her story hit me really hard on the aspect of doing things for yourself, being your own support system because your parents are sick or not around, and that made me instantly feel for her. i also loved how she was written, she wasn’t volatile, she didn’t explode because thats not who she was, she was tired of living through hell day after day and finally gwtting this one chance to go to hawaii and do something fun and it fucked her over. her scene of giving the lighter to rachel made so much sense like she has done EVERYTHING she can and the world keeps shitting on her. (would have liked to see a bit more of her and shelby)

fatin: so when i saw the trailer i was instantly like “who dis” and wow did they fucking serve up a god damn six course meal with her. she just wants to be a kid, she wants to have fun and party and get a B on a test without thinking how her parents are going to react. she’s every student who was told they were gifted and then their parents hounded them to keep up with their gift even if they didn’t want to. i did want to strangle her dad tho like he turned it on his daughter instead of taking responsibility fuck that. her and leah’s relationship was something i wasn’t expecting but really fell in love with. her being an anchor while leah was suffering from so much. (looking forward to more of her mom-ing the group)

leah: i’ll be honest i thought she was a whiny bitch at first, i didnt like her, her story was meh, a usual girl falls in love with boy, boy breaks her heart, girl cant cope. i wasn’t super interested in her until that turning point with fatin going missing and the deep realization that her heart is gonna be broken but she cant let that be a block for the rest of her life. she’s gonna need more help to get through it but she’s taking baby steps and we love to see that. (more of her and fatin please!!)

martha: IF ANYONE TOUCHES HER ILL FUCKING KILL THEM, i’m very worried because like she wasn’t in the “present” timeline (im assuming the interviews are present) and they were talking about her parents possibly suing. please dont hurt my baby. Her entire arc was baffling, i said it in the tags of one post that the comparison of sexual assault to hunter vs prey was a beautiful comparison i just think the ending was a bit too much. but i could write an essay on that alone. her and shelby being friends was so heart warming like they were making plans to hang out omg. PLEASE DONT HURT MY BABY. (im serious please dont hurt her)

nora: DIDNT TRUST HER FROM THE START, it was her initial line when leah asked if anyone remembered how they got there that pulled me in. she was conscious for the whole thing, no one remembered going to shore they just were there but suddenly nora was conscious and she pulled rachel to the shore??? mmmm dont buy it. her story with rachel was so deep and compelling that i was expecting more of that not her falling for a guy and the breakup. that shit made her betrayal hit different it didnt make me pissed at her it made me sad for her, gretchen completely manipulated nora’s grief into a tool to get her to agree to this. that shit hurted.

rachel: man that entire story of an athelete peaking was so well done, because its not a story often told with athletes its usually they broke something and it made them no longer able to compete or something or they get a big comeback but rarely is it, “hey you’ve done the best you can”. and i’ve seen what that can do to people, young girls especially. it hurts and its painful and you would do everything to hold onto that. it made me wanna wrap rachel in a warm hug and give her a cookie. (would like to see her get more friendly with the others, am very interested in finding out if in “present” time she knows nora was in on it and if she’ll choose her sister vs her friends)

shelby: i was honestly expecting a more violently homophobic back story. her story floored me though, im so upset at how she lashed out at becca but i know it must eat at her every day, how could it not? i really do hope she becomes more confident in who she is and who she wants to be with, i really dont wanna see her regress but i know it might happen. i know for a fact if i was in the situation and someone was as optimistic as she was i would knock em out so props to the other girls (THE SCENE where she keeps asking to “see her” i was so hoping she meant toni and they were gonna get this reunion kiss but when she said leah that made it even more intriguing)

toni: i cannot state how much i love toni and how much i related to her in the sense of just wanting to yell and scream and break shit when you’re angry, i’ve gotten to a much better place but man i knew that energy so well once upon a time. her story with regan kinda fucked me up, that type of heartbreak hurts. but seeing that and then seeing toni be so calm with shelby because they’re already in such a shit scenario and toni knows shelby has to go at her own pace FUCK THAT MADE MY HEART MELT (i need the entire piss throwing story because like... how? just how?)

my favs are toni, shelby, fatin and martha. i love all of the girls but they’re the ones im deeply invested in. i noticed a bit ago that this is shockingly one of the only shows where i love every single character. like all of them are so interesting snd complex and that just speaks to the team behind the show, like fucking kudos to them they deserve some awards.

#nox answers #anon #ASK ME MORE BOUT THE WILDS PLS #tv: the wilds #tv #the wilds spoilers

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Whumptober Prompt 14 - Tear-stained

Read on ao3 

I’m not too happy with this but when you have one day what are you gonna do.

Summary: Peter gets really stressed

The thing Peter hates the most about himself is how much he cries. No matter what situation, he’ll probably cry. He cried when he saw a video of two puppies playing in the snow. He cried when he had to get three shots in a row. He cried when he discovered he had the ability to be Spiderman and help people. He cried after he met Tony Stark. He cried when Liz broke up with him and when Ned got him flowers to make him feel better and when MJ brought him a box of homemade cookies.

But even despite how much Peter cries, he hates crying in front of people. He hates how people look at him when he cries. They all this he’s weak, some kinda crybaby. They all call him emotional. But Peter can’t help it. May always told him that it was okay to cry, he’s never once believed her.

So you can imagine his terror when he starts to cry in the middle of the Avenger’s living room beside his childhood hero, the Black Widow.

In Peter’s defense, he’s had a long day. He forgot his lunch, both Ned and MJ were absent, and it was freezing cold and he left his jacket at him. And on top of that, Peter had been given three days to write a fifteen-page essay on the causes of WWII. Needless to say, he's a bit stressed and has a multitude of repressed emotions. All it takes is one little push.

Once he starts researching, he feels like he’s digging himself into a hole. He can’t put the fact together and he keeps re-reading the same information without taking any in. His frustration is the tipping point. He bites his trembling to keep it still, but he can’t do anything to keep the tears in his eyes. His chest heaves, but he presses his lips closed to keep quiet. Hoping Natasha won’t notice, Peter rests his forehead on his knees, hiding his face from the rest of the room. But his soft sniffles and hiccups give him away.

“Peter?” Natasha asks. She stands up from where she was sitting and crouches on the floor beside where Peter sits. “Are you alright?”

He nods, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just stressed and...and frustrated. You can...go back to your...your book.”

“Are you crying?” Peter hates how soft and concerned her voice sounds. This isn’t the Natasha he knows.

“Yeah,” Peter sniffs, there’s no point in lying. “It happens...happens sometimes. I’m okay...I’m okay though. You don’t need-need to worry.”

Natasha frowns and sits next to Peter on the couch, rubbing his back, “You’re crying in the living room, I’m going to worry about you.” She adjusts her position so that Peter is leaning against her shoulder, his face still hidden. “What are you stressed out about?”

“Life. School project,” Peter’s voice quivers. His cheeks are wet from tears, he doesn’t even want to think about the project.

Natasha leans over him and looks at his computer, “World War II?” She snorts, “You know we have two resident experts on that, right?”

Peter looks up at her with watery eyes, “Yeah?” Peter can see Natasha’s face become more caring and gentle as she sees his tear-stained face. He doesn’t like seeing how different she is around him crying, but he knows it’s coming from a place of love.

She smiles at him, “You’re really tired aren’t you?” Peter nods, mopping up his tears with his sleeves. “I’m talking about Steve and Bucky. Both of whom would love to help you with your project.”

“They would?” Peter asks hesitantly. “Are you sure they’re not to busy?”

“Of course. They're two old men who have nothing better to do than talk,” Natasha and Peter share a laugh. “Are you up to work on it now? Do you want some food first or take a nap?”

Peter shakes his head, “No-no it’s due in three days.” He doesn’t want Natasha to think he’s weak. Just because he’s crying doesn’t mean he can’t get shit done.

As Natasha calls for the two men to join them, Peter wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a tight hug, “Thank you, Nat.” She grins and wraps her arms around him.

“Of course.” When Peter lets her go, she asks, “Are you alright?”

He nods, “Yeah. I’m just really emotional and I cry a lot.”

Natasha laughs, “I get it You should have see Clint when he watched Marley and Me, he almost flooded the apartment.” Peter snorts.

“Here come the old men,” Natasha teases as Steve and Bucky walk into the room. She climbs off the couch and goes back to where she was reading a book previously, squeezing Peter’s shoulder. Peter moves his legs to make room for Steve and Bucky on the couch.

“Heard you need our help,” Steve says with a smirk. “Causes of World War II?” Peter nods. “Good thing you are living with two of the best primary sources you’ll ever meet.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “You’re giving yourself too much credit, punk.” Steve laughs and gently shoves Bucky’s shoulder. Peter smiles, already beginning to feel better. As Steve and Bucky begin to explain the war, Peter pulls his laptop into his lap and types. The longer they talk, the more Peter sags against Steve’s chest. Steve smiles and simply moves his arm to allow Peter to lay against him.

Something Peter learns quickly is that it’s so much easier having someone explain facts to you than to try to put them together yourself. But what he loves about Steve and Bucky is that he can stop them at any point and ask them to reword something or explain something he doesn’t quite understand. And they will. You can’t do that on a website.

By the end of two hours, Peter gives them both big long hugs, his eyes brimming with grateful tears, thanking them over and over again.

Tag list:  @just-the-daydreamer, @irondad-is-cannon-bitch, @anxiousangstyangel, @wicked-starlight-collector

message me to be added to my whumptober tag list

#whumptober 2019 #marvel whumptober #irondad whumptober #peter parker #tony stark #natasha romanoff #black widow #iron man #spiderman #spiderson #spiderson fic #irondad #irondad fic

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1, Chapter 13 (One Last Yeehaw)

• It's the chapter everyone's been waiting for! We're pregnant, we get to tell our spouses, we get to tell our friends, we get to tell the courtly ladies, Olivia wears leather, our MCs get to buy a crib for an poppy seed-sized something in their womb that doesn't even know what hands and legs are yet (forget cribs), and the best news of all...WE ARE FINALLLY LEAVING TEXAS!!!!

• If you don't want to see this post on your dash, these are the tags to block: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs and #long post.

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Universal Studios 77 YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the HIMEME YouTube channel

Maxwell: @itsbrindleybinch

Title: Spreading the Word

Alternative Title: It's a Child, Not the Gospel 🤦🏽‍♀

• Before I start talking about the chapter...storytime!

• Sooo...my first pregnancy was a couple of years ago. And I like telling the story of how I broke it to my husband coz it is pretty damn funny. We'd been trying for two years, and had a couple of times when our tests would be met with a disappointing negative. So by the time I did get pregnant, the hubby was a little wary of hoping too soon.

• I had an inkling just before my periods were expected to arrive, because I found myself flopping down on the bed immediately after work, without even making dinner. No morning sickness, no giddiness initially, just constantly feeling so tired. Anyway, hubby insisted I wait a couple days more before a test because he was too afraid of getting his hopes up, and I agreed.

• I took my test around 4 or 5 that morning? And had to wait a couple minutes for the lines...and THERE WERE TWO. Do you really think I could keep such news to myself for more than ten seconds?? (even that was too much). Of course I was going to shake poor hubby awake and show him the test.

• It took five vigorous shakes to wake the poor guy up, and as soon as he was somewhat awake I shoved the test in his face (I was excited ok! 🙈) forgetting that without his glasses he couldn't see shit (very high power). "I can't see anything," he said sleepily, so I gave him his glasses. Ensuing conversation went as follows.

H: There are two lines.

Me: Yeah...sooooo...? 😀😀

H (sudden realization what two lines are supposed to mean): OMG there are two lines??? *sleepy smile*

Me: YES. I'M PREGNANT.

H (weakly): Yayyyy. (pause)...can I go back to sleep now?

Me: But what will I do???

H: You also sleep.

Me (running on sheer adrenaline now) : I CAN'T SLEEP I JUST FOUND OUT I'M PREGNANT.

H: Oooookay. (is too sleepy at this point to process anything).

Me: (excitedly hops over to Google at 5.20 in the morning and types out "I'm 4 weeks pregnant now what")

LMAO. That first pregnancy was quite something.

• The chapter begins with the MC sending her spouse a text. Depending on whether you mentioned a surprise, mentioned that you need to have a talk or texted emojis instead, the LI will react accordingly.

• With the surprise option, the LI flirts with her. With "we need to talk", they appear tense and believe she's angry with them. The emoji option is the funniest, coz the MC sends a string of emojis with the last one being this: 🍞, and the LIs are confused and referencing the bread (I've seen only two routes of this one - Liam talks about the Cordonian Baker's Festival which will only happen after a couple months, and Hana speaks about a bread course). The MC is puzzled at first, then gets to choose how to tell her spouse the news.

• AAAAAND NOW THEY KNOW.

Liam: Ecstatic and excited at the thought of holding his own child in his arms. Immediately after, he worries over the preparations they will need to make, the childproofing of the throne room and the things they will need to get ready, and it is the MC who calms him down.

I personally love that the narrative makes a mention of Liam "recentering himself" here, because it does show me that this is a rare display of raw emotion, of Liam letting go of his control, and you get a glimpse of what calming down for him looks like. Wish it hasn't taken four books to actually muster up the effort to write that.

Hana: One of the sweetest reactions ever - "We're going to be moms?" and a hearty squeal after that. She then becomes emotional and teary, cries with joy. There's some gentle teasing of each other where they call each other "cute", and then Hana tells her she's so glad she gets to share both this moment and this entire journey of pregnancy with the MC.

Hana doesn't show many signs of her intensive planning in this particular scene, because this - again - calls for raw emotion where the LI basically forgets their "normal" and truly savours that moment, but we do see signs of the same type of planning in other scenes.

Maxwell: WHOOPS with joy and excitement as soon as he realizes. Wants to scream out the news on a mountaintop. He promises the MC that their family will be the most awesome, most fun one that the kingdom has ever seen.

I love how Maxwell's overall vibe in this chapter seems to reflect his family situation - he definitely wants to be the exact opposite to his own child what his father has been to him. It's a pity they don't explore that enough.

Drake: Wild with joy, can't stop grinning. But also worried about whether he is being careless with the MC and is overly concerned for her. Calls her not just by her surname but also her first name. I wonder if that should be added to my Book 1 tallies 😂

• That TRR lullaby music is going to be played so much after this that we'll eventually get sick of it. I know it. I know it already.

• The LIs also get to check in with the MC about how she's feeling, and you as the reader get to decide how she is feeling at the moment (ecstatic, nervous, scared?). We also get the option to decide when to break the news to our friends (at the reception itself, or the next morning at breakfast). I think enough of us had an axe to grind with Savannah and Bertrand for the stunt they pulled (with our help) last book, that most people slammed that "reception" button like their lives depended on it.

• The LIs also act in different ways before their friends find out about the pregnancy:

Liam and Hana both dote on the MC, and Hana specifically keeps the MC's dietary restrictions in mind (gets sparkling water/orange juice in place of champagne/mimosas, asks about caffeine content/salmon during breakfast - this varies depending on when you make the announcement). With Drake, the group figures out that he has something on his mind because he's grinning nonstop, and Maxwell tries really really hard to hint at the MC's pregnancy by using phrases like 'bun in the oven' and 'expecting', and gives up in frustration when no one catches on.

• There are three ways you can tell the news to the group - if you're at the reception, you can leave them to guess, get the LI to announce via loudspeaker or scream it out. If you're at home, the same three options except the second one is simply the LI delivering the news in a more low-key manner.

•

YOU'RE SUCH DORKS ISTG.

• Bertrand is happy for us but Savannah is surprisingly (to my great joy) nowhere to be found.

• CELEBRATORY DIAMOND SCENE. For 30 diamonds, which is usually reserved either for finales or turning-point diamond scenes. Again, these scenes deal with the newness of it all, the jubilation, the end of a (not very long, actually) wait, and the LIs get to talk about family.

•

The sex part is 🔥 🔥 🔥 as usual, but the parts that really justify the 30 diamonds we're spending come before and after that. Each LI, as I've mentioned before, responds differently, but the thread that connects them all is the awe and wonder at this new life, and their plans and worries for the future (Good. You all should be worried if Olivia's diamond scene is anything to go by).

- Liam: In the pre-sex portion, the focus is on celebrating this moment they have alone - as parents - together, because once this news is brought out to the world, both they and their child will be thrown into the spotlight. I have spoken in this essay about the kind of upbringing royal children tend to have and the lessons they unknowingly learn in that environment. Liam has gone through this, he is aware his child will go through it too, but he wants the child to have as normal a life as he as a father can provide. This is clear in the last portion of the scene, where he touches the MC's stomach, marvels at the life they both created and - as per the MC's choice - communicates with said child. My favourite option of course is the lullaby, because it's one that Eleanor used to sing to him - and it is interesting how a lot of Liam's memories of an actual parent, doing actual parent-things, is of his mother.

- Hana: In the pre-sex portion, she speaks about how nervous they've both been over whether this pregnancy would happen and the pressure from the court, and how excited she is that that moment is finally here. When the MC asks her if she is nervous or scared, Hana tells her that even though everything that has led up to this (leaving her parents, having a new life in Cordonia) has been unknown and scary, knowing that they will finally have their own family outweighs "all the worries in the world". In the last portion of the scene, they flirt playfully, leading Hana at some point to wonder about whether they should set ground rules if the child is going to be such a charmer. She's already got a whole range of things prepared - from a pregnancy kit to snacks and drinks appropriate for the MC's condition - but the MC encourages her to relax and not worry too much. You can tell that Hana is already in the zone of wanting to be a better parent for her child than her own.

- Maxwell: I find the Maxwell version of this scene really interesting this time, because it deals with both his struggle to change for his child, and his struggle to NOT be the kind of father Bartie Sr was (finally they address this!). The first part of the scene involves Maxwell being his usual excitable self, wanting to scream the news from the rooftops then realising that it might be too risky for his wife. He speaks of wanting to "rewire" himself into "Good Dad mode". The last portion is especially poignant, because he speaks both of what a life without the MC would have been life (an enjoyable Beaumont Bash, but one where he is forever searching for someone, and feeling constantly lonely, like something is missing in his life), and he also promises his wife that he will be the kind of father who will learn and grow from his mistakes, and who will be there whenever his children need him most, not just drop by on the day of their child's wedding.

- Drake: Drake also falls back into old-habit before getting into father-mode - he mentions celebrating with drinks before realizing the MC cannot have them. The MC gets to choose either a non alcoholic beverage or a massage, and as far as I have seen the massage comes with yet another family story about his father massaging a particular spot in his mother's shoulder that would easily tense up. It astounds me how much effort the writers make into making Drake's scenes and exchanges so much more personal than the others. Like the others have their moments in this scene too - but in their cases such moments are the exception, not the norm. In Drake's it's always the norm.

In the aftermath of the scene, the couple get to discuss how they will bring up their child, even though that child will be heir to Cordonia's throne, and get to choose if they want to bring that child up with a sense of normality, or to appreciate the benefits they get from the royal life. In the end, all Drake wants this child to know at the moment is how much their parents love them.

• We now have brunch, hosted by the newlyweds. If we have not yet announced our pregnancy, Bertrand will simply announce us the way a herald would at a royal event before Savannah teases him for doing so, and if we have, he mentions that we are "celebrating the happy news with them once more". Bertrand speaks of being overly formal when he's very happy, and is even happier to mention the word "wife". That'll last.

• Leona gives Bertrand a cup of bourbon as a reward for the way he stood up to Chuck, claiming that she thought of him as a "pretty boy" who knew nothing, but was impressed by his behaviour on the wedding day. At this point I can only roll my eyes and finally celebrate when Auntie Bitch disappears. We've wasted way too much time than necessary on Drake's shitty family.

• If you haven't announced the news, you announce it after this scene. There are a few slight changes, esp the drinks mentioned in certain cases because the brunch is a more relaxed atmosphere than the reception so the food and drink items mentioned are pretty low-key. But everything else is pretty much as is.

• Bertrand and Savannah have a honeymoon to plan, which means we will finally get a break from them too, and Bianca asks us what we're planning in order to celebrate the news. Maxwell suggests getting a gift for the new arrival (9 months before arriving), and Savannah suggests they go to the general store and get something from there. The MC is nervous, because she wasn't exactly planning to meet Cassidy West again. Thankfully, he isn't at the store, so she's pretty safe 😂

•

All the LIs have items they will check out with their friends/wives, but the scene varies related to who the MC married. Minimally in most cases, quite a bit in just one. As usual.

Maxwell shows us baby socks, and realizes that this child is a "miniature human" who will have small-sized everything. Virtually nothing changes in this scene except for Maxwell calling the child "our baby" instead of "yours" in his own playthrough. Everything else is disappointingly identical.

Hana shows us a toy tea set (it's still early days but Hana tells the MC it will be fun to practice and to think of the treats the child can eat from that). If you are married to her, she gets a single line referencing the childhood scene where she waited in vain for her mother at her own tea party.

Liam's scene is the one wit the diamond option - as the King of Cordonia whose entire country's future rides on this child, he is the one who gets to show the MC (+ LI in their respective playthroughs) the crib. There are two variations in this scene - the ones where Liam speaks about "our heir". Other than that, very little difference (though he does mention Constantine in one line later, so I guess that's a plus).

Drake shows the MC a wooden rocking horse. In his friend playthrough, he speaks of the gift as something the child can have to remember "ol' Uncle Drake" by. But if you're married to him, there is a whole set of dialogues where Drake talks of riding horses being part of the Walker DNA, and there is a reference to the secret wedding (riding off into the sunset), and there is interactive banter between the MC and Drake that you don't see much of in the other playthroughs. I wish I could say I'm surprised.

• I mean...seriously??? Maxwell gets NO OTHER VARIATIONS??? Hana's mention of her mother never coming to her tea parties isn't even followed up by a line expressing comfort from the MC????

• Just as we got there options for our nursery decor, we also get three options for the crib (classic, royal, forest fairytale). The royal option is lavish, all gold and cream, and the fairytale option is whimsical, wood finish and the same patterns of forest animals and flowers and leaves as the walls. The classic option is, like its corresponding decor, "very neutral. very baby".

• We exit the shop as quickly as we can either because Maxwell broke a trampoline (in the Liam, Hana and Drake playthroughs), or Hana dropped some teacups (in Maxwell's playthrough).

• Once we're done shopping, we get a call from Olivia, who is at our estate in Valtoria, asking us for the most precious thing in our room. But before she can ask, we tell her we're either furniture shopping or pregnant. The option the writers want us to be choosing is "pregnant", because there's a scene where Olivia secretly happy-cries for us when she learns the news. We can agree to loan her either some fancy shoes, our engagement ring (in the Maxwell playthrough, apparently, there is a reference to the twig ring he made back at the beginning of Book 3) or the Cordonian Royal Sceptre. She isn't sure if she'll come back alive, so she thanks us in case she doesn't.

• The ensuing Olivia diamond scene comes with a chance to figure out what Olivia is upto, an advantage over Auvernal, and a tiny hint at a Nevrakis name for TRM.

• I must say, the writers never cease to go all out for Olivia. Even over the female LI that should have been treated like a co-protagonist. And it's tiring because yet again I'll have to see half the fandom drag Hana just so they can drool over the white girl (in fact I already have).

• Olivia's sprite on the left side of the screen...is going to take some getting used to. It's disorienting. But it's fine after a second one!

• Anyway. She is now at a casino in Monte Carlo, meeting up with Bradshaw and Isabella. She's clearly in super-spy mode, since she refers to the King and Queen of Auvernal as targets rather than their names or titles. She has a better edge over the two if she is honest about her intentions and doesn't pretend she just bumped into them.

• Bradshaw speaks about King Liam sending his 'attack dog' to them and 'not doing his own dirty work' which is hilarious considering this man is from a militaristic society yet doesn't even know the C of combat training and has never done anything besides strategizing.

• Isabella always delivers her stinky, unwarrented opinion as if it holds any weight or has any relevance. In Olivia's case, she mentions Anton's marriage contract with Olivia and wonders aloud how the Queen/Duchess still trusts her enough to allow Olivia in her inner circle after that. All three options to push back at Izzy are 🔥 but my favourite one is "you look like you know all about poor judgement" (which is true, look at who she married).

• Olivia then gambles with Bradfraud and Stinkybella, with whatever the MC chose to give her as stakes. The best option is to simply call Bardfraud on his bluff, because he folds easily. Depending on whether Olivia wins or loses the game, he either asks the guards to place the item in the penthouse, or to get more funds from there. Olivia takes note.

• She then has to make sure she nicks the key to the penthouse from Stinkybella, either by acting tipsy or by coming closer to her for an "awkward hug". Both do the job.

• She learns the following from the penthouse:

- Bradfraud and Stinkybella stay in separate rooms, which means things "aren't as rosy" between them.

- She finds a letter of rejection, doubtless from another royal couple, and this is an indication that they aren't as popular as they pretend to be.

- She finds a map of a land she doesn't recognize (is it Monterisso? Olivia would recognize a map of her own country...and neighboring countries...but who am I fooling it's not like team TRH concerns themselves with such ridiculous things as logic!), which has troop formations on it. They're planning something called Operation Swan. I've heard of "Black Swans" and "Swanning About" used as military terms, but there's not a lot I understand from this. Perhaps this leans more towards a "black swan" idea - where they will launch a surprise attack with a nation they are allying with? IDK.

- Basically, we have enough leverage to win against these two, thanks to Olivia's work.

• In any case, someone comes to the room, and Olivia is on the verge of getting caught. So she'll need to scale her way down.

• This shows us if you have Olivia pray to her ancestors for wings:

(Theodosia is clearly the Renaissance Nevrakis)

• If you don't choose to scale down, Olivia will land on the pool instead, but even then she makes it out okay. She decides to keep an eye out because Bradfraud and Stinkybella could pose as a problem for Liam and the MC.

• Olivia is operating on her own, as far as she has told Bradfraud, but the possibility that Liam is aware of what she is upto still exists. And the MC has no clue even if she is Liam's wife because:

a. The writers are too lazy to code this for Liam, and

b. It's not like the MC puts any effort into finding things out anyway

• We're now leaving the Walker Ranch, a couple hours later, and saying our goodbyes to Drake's mother and aunt. I heave a sigh of relief at the fact that there's no additional "memories" from Bianca become this family has gobbled up enough of our attention. Seems like their horrible attitude was really about the money they didn't get after all (it's a fair gripe to have, but doesn't exactly warrant the attitude they've been throwing around).

• Leona still acts like she did us a huge fucking favour hosting us, even though she was an awful host and seriously deserves to lose her ranch. Bianca tries to be civil but no apologies from her for allowing her son in law to be treated like crap until his wedding day. Seems like all Walkers have a habit of expecting civility from others while giving none.

• Bianca asks us to keep in touch and I'm pretty sure a huge chunk of the fandom said "no way in Yeehaw Hell".

• Liam continues to be mysterious with regards to what Olivia is up to, and Esther - who I HC'd as inquisitive - seems not to care enough to ask more.

• The LI tells us, as we leave, that Kiara, Penelope and Madeleine will be traveling in the jet with us, and it's up to us to decide how we break the news to them. If you own corgis, that features as an option. Two of the options (writing on a cake and announcement by corgi) come with a simple "Coming Soon...The Royal Heir", but the charade one is my favourite 🤭

• Penelope is that particular Drake/Walker Ranch stan who loved the time we spent at the ranch and Kiara is the rest of the fandom, who would much rather be in Cordonia than cooling her heels in Texas.

•

AAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA.

The MC then tries another charade, one that resembles cradling a baby in her arms, which Kiara takes to mean "American football" (thank God they don't force Cordonians to call it "soccer" anymore), Madeleine takes to mean "a common pirate jig" and Penelope somehow gets the guess right (though Kiara is the one who straight-out says it).

• The ladies are ecstatic, and congratulate us. Penelope calls for drinks, but Kiara has the common sense to add that the drinks should be alcohol-free. Madeleine informs us of the events lined up for us, including the Apple Ball which will doubtless be the ball we will be attending in the finale.

•

There's a small private moment where the LIs dote over the MC more than necessary, wanting to pamper her and keep her in comfort. The MC calms them down, convinces them that they have a very good support system/are a great team together who can achieve anything.

• Mara still finds out about the pregnancy via Maxwell scouring the online shops for corgi-themed onesies even when he is the father. Which makes sense. It's still Good Dad Mode 😁

• In the tiny space of time it took between Madeleine finding out we were pregnant and us talking to people, she managed to schedule a conference for the same day! At least let us confirm the pregnancy with our docs???

• Plus, announcing this early, even if you're not royalty, is pretty risky. You're mostly advised to not disclose it too soon because the first trimester can be a little risky. And there are also cases where your first ultrasound turns out to not be that happy moment where you see that yolk sac and hear its heartbeat, or an ectopic pregnancy 😔. I recall reading about it on pregnancy forums before my first ultrasound (and stressing, but I had to be prepared) and not being satisfied until I confirmed it for myself.

• The writers and the readers know she'll be pregnant because that is what the story is, but perhaps if the team hadn't wasted so much time on the Walker Ranch, they'd at least not have to hurry like this.

• Actually...no. "Hurrying" would be the wrong word. Because they're going to stretch the press conference itself to like two chapters, it seems like. Basically they will spend time on everything that isn't important to the story as long as it's important to their pet character.

• The summary of Chapter 15 (CHAPTER FUCKING FIFTEEN. We're stuck at the beginning of all this even by CHAPTER FIFTEEN) speaks of the press conference heating up, so I'm having an inkling that there will be some pretty heavy stuff being asked in between? Maybe with regards to alliances, or a new scandal, or something else. But it's not going to be easy at all, that much is pretty clear. It's going to be frustrating and there's going to be stuff that will anger the LIs I think. I could be wrong, though.

• Overall this chapter does better in terms of variations even though they still do beef up Drake quite a bit over the others. But at least Liam, Hana and Maxwell get the rare opportunity to briefly address the mistakes (too small a word for what they've done) their parents have made. It's still not enough though. Esp considering the last 9 chapters have seen such an overall of Walker history and Drake's memories and the others have barely a handful of chapters to catch up.

• Sometimes I wonder if Olivia's independent investigation is also fueled by her desire to be so different from her parents and aunt as to wipe out the memory of their betrayal through her deeds. I do wonder if she will burn herself out completely in the process. She is made of sterner stuff than that, I know, but the determination she was showing in this scene and in the last few chapters was on another level.

• I wonder if we will get intel on Monterisso as well (I don't fully trust Amalas yet), or whether the narrative plans to establish this country as the underdog we will be supporting. Who knows. But I'm sure we will see more of that country in further chapters as well.

• That's it for this chapter, I think. Until the next one!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #drake walker #trr kiara #trr penelope #trr madeleine #the royal heir

[spadesinglasses]

Love Victor (series)

oooh new format for this post let’s get into itttt.

Below are my reaction per episode. I will be writing them as i finish each so its more clear and fresh and all that jazz.

Let’s see if tumblr posts has a word count limit.

lol wrong title earlier X_X

Note, the #glassthoughts tags is a reaction tag. Its never a review, or an intellectual essay about stuff I watch. I dont have the capacity to do all those.

Spoilers below so beware. Episode 1 is posted separately because I intend to make posts for the first and last epsiode only but that did not work out lol.

EPISODE 2

it took me a looong time to finish this episode. I kept on pausing it because something just feels so wrong about it. I didn’t know what it was when i was going through it, but when it finally ended it finally clicked.

The episode reminds me of the sentiment most homophobes use against gay people. “If you focus on the emotional part of the relationship, you will be happy with the opposite sex.” Growing up ive heard this phrase used against other people so much. Hearing it in my native language has always been a punch in the gut. 

And now this show who is supposed to be something happy and nice, is just having this kind of phrase of mentality just well up there.

I’m sure that its not Victor’s and that he is just exploring his sexuality. But the usual tinge of homophobia whenever he talks that he might be like Simon is honestly grating.

It’s definitely a me issue because other people seem to be enjoying the series immensely, but whenever Victor gets into that headspace, I just hear my child self crying myself to sleep because of internal homophobia.

Also i can see why people say  that for a show that is supposed be about Victor’s sexuality and growth, it does sure show a heck lot of heterosexuality of those who are around him.

Maybe in the future i will rewatch the series again with a more patient mind, but for now, expect me to skip a lot of scenes X_X

End

Episode 3

Okay the audacity of Victor saying “he tries” to be a good friend. Like dang okay chill with the lies. You’re already lying about your sexuality lmao.

Sorry im being very critical and bitter about this show, but i must persevere for the fanfics and fanarts i will gorge myself into later.

anywho reaction time!

Mia and Victor would’ve been cute if only Victor doesn’t sound like he keeps on enforcing this compulsory heterosexuality he has in mind.  BUT hey he might be Bi people! 

I keep censoring myself because of how bitter and hateful i sound. My apologies for the phrases i forgot to delete above and beyond this line xD.

Anyways im over anything about Andrew. He can go fuck his egotistical self. If the series will show 

Hmm i wonder if the term “Comp Het” will even drop in this series.

Back to reaction,

Honestly Felix is just a lesbian in a man’s body at this point. Making his own shampoo? Like wow give me some of that kind of friend. 

The number of times I rolled my eyes at Andrew is ridiculous. 

Whilst typing this part it was more enforced in my mind that Love Victor is just a “supposedly gayer” Teen Wolf without the wolfing parts.

Lake is Lydia Felix is Stiles Andrew is a walmart Jackson Benji is basically a less grumpy Derek or Danny tbh Victor is Scott

I really hate this idea now.

The parents drama! Honestly, very unnecessary in my opinion. Victor is already dealing with a religious family, now he has to deal with a religious and broken family? Like dang they could’ve just chosen one struggle for him, now everyone will think his sexuality is a consequence for his parents’ sin or sth.

Maybe it’ll play into a bigger plot twist in the future?

Maybe Victor’s mom is cheating with Mia’s father? Seeing as how there was an unnecessary shot of her father with the back of a woman facing on the camera which is weird but okay. 

Im theorizing now X_X

Anyways have y’all seen how poor Felix was so nervous because his goddamn friend isn’t there to supposedly help him?

Sorry im hating on Victor too much but this scene reminds me of how awful Simon’s friends are and like bruuuh is Felix supposed to be the lead character?

He really is like Stiles who is supposed to be the lead for Teen Wolf in my opinion, he’s just a much better written character that Sc/tt

lmao sorry my issues with other series is bleeding into this one X_X

End

Episode 4

Not much to say without getting too salty so moving onnn.

End

Episode 5

This series is just showing all the fear and pain i went through and am going through back when I was a teenager and til now. Without getting into any personal stuff, that last bs Victor’s father spewed just hit me so much.

I guess one of the reasons why its hard for me to watch Love Victor is because it shows me the teenager side of me way back when. Minus the girlfriend one because i never really persevered that much to tamper any likes for men. Internal homophobia really hit me back then tho xD

End

Episode 6

This episode is a mess and I hate it.

We saw yet again Victor literally using Felix’s ignorance and naivety to get himself out of a situation he put himself into. 

AND Felix even got the wrong idea or got fed with the wrong idea that the reason why Victor brought him along is to act as a buffer because he wasn’t ready to give up being a virgin or have sex in general. Yep that is definitely the reason, no other reason at all that involves making latte art with a known barista.

Lake and Felix kissed so there was that. I still am shipping Victor and Felix together despite Victor’s continuous bs with him being a good friend, but that’s just me.

And totally knew Andrew and Mia got a thing. If this blew up and hurt Lake im suing.

Lake and Felix are literally the two people keeping this show intact. Not gonna drop some political statement here no sir.

Again Benji needs to grow a personality out of this whole barista thing. One thing i am grateful for this show is that there was no family drama at all!

I think.

End

Episode 7

UGHHH MISS ME WITH THAT NORMAL TALK.

Ive been making a conscious effort to stop saying that heterosexuality is normal. That shit is hard to unlearn because its what ive always heard in my asian household for yeaaaaaaars. And now this twink is just gonna throw the term around like he has no issues with it. TO SIMON EVEN.

Like brooooooh. Im over my 2010 internal homophobia, no need to dig it all up again. Every episode.

Aww the dancing in different clothes is cute but,

FUCKING VICTOR LIED JUST FOR WHAT?

Homeboy be doing the most to keep his fucking sexuality from bursting out, with his foot both planted firmly inside the closer AND THEN THE NEXT SECOND would end up as if he is ready to risk it all just to see Benji naked.

I AM FUCKING livid, confused, and just intense emotion everywhere.

Ive seen a couple of dumbo scenes from other shows that got the “closeted” man be doing literally the most obvious shit that could make anyone catch them, BUT THIS, with how VEHEMENT Victor is against being “NOT NORMAL” AND THEN LIE JUST TO STAY IN A MOTEL WITH THE GLORIFIED HOT GUY, takes the goddamn cake.

The fucking hypocrisy man. Ive battled internal homophobia before, AND ACKNOWLEDGE THAT WE ALL DEAL WITH IT DIFFERENTLY but holy fucksticks. I’m not this evil.

The thing is, there is so much a person could do that you could go “ah its because they are in the closet and is afraid to come out” before it goes to the territory of “fucking hell, this is not just about his sexuality, this is just him now doing stuff consciously to take advantage of his supposed fear”. The girlfriend thing is even waaay over the top, but we all went with it because he’s supposed to be figuring things out. BUT most of the time, he literally could not even imagine going beyond the line HE CREATED for their relationship. AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT HE WILL LIE JUST TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH A GUY? Now he wants to test the male side of his sexuality? BECAUSE PORN DOESN’T EXIST?  BECAUSE LOOKING AT MALE UNDERWEAR MODELS IN THE UNDERWEAR SECTION IS NOT ENOUGH? HE NEEDS IT TO BE ACTUALLY PHYSICAL TO CONFIRM SOMETHING?

Im ahead too much, real time the scene im in the episode is still them about to leave the shop but holy fucking hell. If this lie ended up becoming something more in this same episode, expect more capslock because jfc.

And people will still claim he’s somewhat attracted to the other gender. 

AND SOMETHING DID HAPPENED. ANDREW AND MIA KISSED

FUCKIN VICTOR

Also i was very very worried that Pilar and Felix will be a thing BUT THANK GOD THAT DIDN’T BECOME A THING. Still unsure whether i like Lake and Felix together, but i love them individually.

I cant really comment on any of the parents drama because to be honest i skip them whenever its just her and him.

These two fuckers lie to one another. BECAUSE OF WHAT? THEY WANT TO FUCKIN STICK THEIR TONGUES INTO ONE ANOTHERS MOUTH? IS THIS REALLY WHERE THIS SHOW IS GOING? AND THEY ALMOST CENSORED IT BECAUSE ITS GAY? NOT THE OTHER HORRIBLE STUFF THAT IS HAPPENING?

Im tired.

But i hafta finish the show for fanarts and fanfics.

okay Benji has a legitimate reason for lying. I’ll take that.

See people you see me live writing this whole rant thing :D.

BOY TOOK MONTHS KISSING MIA FOR MIA TO ONLY SAY THEIR TONGUES GRAZE SOMETIMES.

bUT THE SAME GUY JUST WENT LAPLAPAN TO THE MAX WITH BENJI THE ONE NIGHT THEY SPENT TOGETHER?

REALLY PEOPLE? REALLY?

Huh I wonder back when I was his age, would I also just kiss the first gay guy i became comfortable with? Despite being so into the closet and battling internal homophobia via punching the walls?

Dang that monologue tho. We as non het doesn’t want our lives to be hard. But at this point, i stopped blaiming my own sexuality and just started blaming heterosexuals for making the world this fucking horrible for us. That’s when my internal homophobia SLOWLY lessen. It’s still there but hey at least every crosshair  is not on me.

Okay i get people saying that Simon is irresponsible for making Victor like put his family on the back burner for a bit etc etc. Also the reaction against Benji getting mad when Victor wanted them to stop being gay while in their house, is reasonable. Victor did calmly told Benji and his beau that his family is stretched thin etc etc. I get that. I get that sometimes hiding your sexuality for other people is what is necessary.

BUT  fucking please recognize how damaging that is to the person you are talking to. Even if you think Victor is in the 100% right about this, AT THE VERY LEAST acknowledge why Benji is mad. Sure he could’ve just left with his boyfriend instead of just staying there. And sure Victor pulled through in the end and put that dusty grandpa motherfucker to his place, but that’ll fucking sting okay.

Also i might be saying all this in a place where I’m not really that close to ANY of my relatives, so ya know, call me ignorant or ungrateful whatever.

END

Episode 8

Okay uhh Mia and Andrew is still a thing APPARENTLY.

AWW BRAM IS CUTE

Lol Simon’s “Yay boobs” like please Victor keep the heterosexual drama out of this chatroom lmao.

Also Felix group texting the others is hilarioussss.

If Victor touches or says one bad thing at Bram? its on sight.

Also Im not sure what to feel with Mia getting jealous at Andrew. Like girl you were the one who said he’s nothing, and now this? Issa bad look honey.

Victor is embarassing. Are all extroverts just this i dunno peppy? 

You know what makes me happy in this episode? Keiynan’s attitude bleeding out to Bram’s character. I love it!

Goddd Keiynan is so hot XD

hahahaha this episode is lighter thank god.

“why would they want to help a complete stranger” because they are good people and surprisingly they still exist! 

Ohhh So it seems like Nick Robinson filmed his scenes for this episode on a different day. Ive never seen him be with the main group. That’s weird.

END

Episode 9

Benji distancing himself because he wants to make his 1 year relationship work? Good guy! Him not saying to his boyfriend about the coworker of his kissing him? Bad move.

Sure we can all talk about how little stuff doesn’t need to be told to your lover if you’re sure its not gonna happen again. The thing is,  communication is key. Y’all will talk about communication being integral in a relationship but keep shit like this in the DL because yOU’RE JUST THAT SURE IT AINT GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN? Fo real?

Also Benji is feeling guilty for a reason.

Vincent is very in the wrong for kissing a taken man just because said taken man is comfortable with him or showed vulnerability. Victor is in the wrong 100% and I��ll never forget that.

Felix and that hug with Victor is adorableeee. Love that coming out scene. Again raising my eyebrows at those who say Victor is Bi.

Felix showing what’s in his apartment is fucking great. No wonder we don’t see his mom or anything. They say that the saddest people are always the one who will do their best to keep everyone happy. Felix is being peppy, have these random phrases he use to just amuse people makes sense.

In this household, we protect Felix no matter what. HOPEFULLY next season we get to fucking know his surname or sth.

Again nothing new with the drama surrounding the parents. I hate them and honestly i am so annoyed by the father’s face and everything. (still have that hatred from One day at  time but we don’t talk about that here)

The letter is stupid and i wonder what Pilar will do about it. Are we gonna get a To All the boys i loved before thing?

OH Felix giving Lake an ultimatum. Wow what a move honestly. On one hand Felix has the right to protect himself. He wants to be free with who he loves, and keeping it a secret stopped being amusing because he knew what it feels like to hide a part of yourself.

Lake’s confidence has been obviously shot and damaged by her mother. Not saying that justifies what she is doing  BUT it came from somewhere. A night with Felix talking to her about his life IS NOT going to just uproot all those thoughts from her mind. As much as i love Felix, he is not a solution.

hmm what else. The father can go die for all i care. Lmao.

END

Episode 10

OH I THOUGHT PILAR KNOWS NOW BUT NOOOO

OH NOOO O NO NO NOOO

AND ANDREW STIRRING SHIT UP NOOOOOO

PILAR STOOOOP

NOO NOT PUBLICLY

OMFG

 I CANNOT.

Also i cannot get over Andrew’s actor looking like Stromae. They have the same eyes, eyebrows and expressions X_X

THIS IS WHY WE DONT KEEP SHIT BEFORE A PUBLIC EVENT. IT ALWAYS EXPLODES ON A PUBLIC EVENT.

YOU BET YOUR ass i skipped the whole confrontation scene. I’ll go back to it maybe or just look at gifs but nope. My cancer rising and moon can’t handle that shit.

Is ... is Mia going to see Victor and Benji together and then theorize? Because god freaking damnit im tired of that plot twist.

Oh Benji. Honey honey honey please don’t do whatever I think you’re about to do.

FUCKING NEW IT. CALLED IT. CALLED ITITTTT MIA FUCKIGN SAW I HATE VERYTHING.

....

wait the way the ending was shot is weird. The cliffhanger is weird. Everything is weird.

ILL MAKE A HUNCH that it was actually just Victor in his dream land thinking that coming out is that easy and that you just blurt it out.

Bet you the next season will start with no body but Felix and Mia and Andrew know about his sexuality.

The shot was too much on Victor. There was no sound cue from the family etc etc.  I hate the ending so much. Love Victor could’ve been so much more. Could’ve pioneered a fresh way to show lgbt stories and how coming out is this and that. Even if the show is for Gen Z and this generation, coming out should reflect to how coming out is generally perceived nowadays. But i guess that was too much. Foolish me for having my expectations waay too high.

The End

#Glass thoughts #love victor #love victor spoilers #this exhausted #me

[pandawritesmanythings]

Halfrid // Part 3

Platonic!Loki x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your life has always been dictated by the fact that you are smarter than most adults. This has made you antagonize many of them, it isn’t your fault that you are just citing facts! However, when the god of mischief becomes your friend, are there enough facts you can cite to prove his innocence?

Warnings: None, just no Loki this chapter, sorry!

Word Count: +3000k

A/N: Wow! A lot of people responding positively to the last part! I’m really glad you guys are enjoying it. I am opening the tags list in case anyone wants to be notified when the next chapter comes out!

TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!

NEW YORK 2014

The streets were filled with the usual buzz that surrounded New York. In the distance, the sounds of construction jolted you awake.

You had fallen asleep in your desk again. You sighed and rubbed your hands all over your face, wiping some of the dried salivae away from your mouth.

Your computer was still on and running, its fans warming up the area where it was sitting. With two fingers you slid through the pad and wrote the password on the lock screen.

It opened to the essay you had been working on last night. You smiled while reading it, your teachers had praised you before on your essays, and you were really proud of this one. Quickly you clicked the share button and sent it to your personal account and to your teacher.

You pushed your chair with wheels away from the desk and hopped off it when you reached your closet. You pulled out a simple sweater and jeans, your black flats and pulled your backpack over your shoulder. You rushed to the bathroom and quickly brushed your teeth.

Your parents were getting ready to get to work. They still hadn't forgiven you for 2012, but you knew they would get over it soon. At least they didn't hang it over your head every time you walked into the room anymore.

"Good morning munchkin!" Your dad called from the kitchen, the blender sounding off.

"Good morning dad!"

"You almost ready for school?" Your mom asked kissing your forehead.

"Yep. I already finished my essay and I left my project on my locker, so I'm good for today." You chirped taking your place in the table and placing your backpack by your chair.

Your mom was typing furiously on the keyboard of her own laptop, even though her expression remained calm. Trying to catch a glimpse you leaned in to see what she was doing.

As soon as she felt your curious gaze on the document, she snapped it closed. 

"Come on mom! Let me see!" You whined.

"No. Finish your breakfast, this is not something for you to meddle with." She seriously stated, her brow furrowed.

You deflated in your seat, a long breath of air coming out of your lips. "I was just curious..." You mumbled.

"And where did your curiosity lead you to, last time?" She rhetorically asked.

You hid your face in your arms trying to avoid her fiery gaze.

"Why do you have to make my appetite go away?" You asked muffling your voice in your arm.

"Stop mumbling and eat your breakfast. I'll pack it if I have to, but you aren't leaving the house without at least a bite out of your sandwich." Your mom seemed to be very final about this, completely ignoring the fact that it had been two whole years since New York, and yet she didn't trust you had become more careful.

A mom's mind must be one of the most complicated ones. You only saw the annoyance that her attitude brought you, but under it, there was an honest and sincere worry for your safety. 

Since 2012, your mom had become more overprotective of you. She had given you a phone and a computer, but they were constantly monitored. If you were on a website you shouldn't be in or downloaded any information that didn't come from an official website, she would get a notification. And let's just say since the attack on New York you haven't been particularly keeping out of trouble.

As you took a bite out of your sandwich and scooped some yogurt out of a cup into your mouth you heard your mom sigh behind you.

She placed her head on her hands, rubbing her sides as if she had a headache. "Darling... My little girl. Why can't you be like others?" She asked, not in an accusatory tone, but one of a very tired mother. She hated having you on such a tight leash, but trust was earned and you hadn't earned it.

"What? You want me to be boring and dumb like my classmates?" You asked in disbelief.

"No! That's not what I meant. I just..." You mom was obviously at a loss for words. So your dad swooped in to save her.

"I think your momma is just tired of you getting in trouble kiddo." He smiled putting a platter of sliced oranges on the table and a homemade strawberry smoothie. "She wants you to go out and play on the hydrants during the summer, and be curious about the world. Instead of only researching it on Wikipedia." He smiled slyly.

"But that's boring!" You retorted. "You know what's fun? Figuring out how to get hidden files from the FBI." You giggled. 

Your mom groaned but your dad just laughed. "Oh, love. She's going to be a great agent someday."

"She's not going to end up entering your business, Frank." Your mom deadpanned him.

"But what if I wanted to?" You butted in.

"I still wouldn't let you. You already cause a lot of trouble by yourself. I can't imagine what you would do with actual authorized access to verifiable sources." She frowned as she opened her laptop and resumed her furious typing, this time letting the frustration bleed onto her face.

You angrily took another bite of your sandwich and downed your smoothie. "I'm done." You jumped out of your seat and slumped your backpack on your shoulder. "See you later." You frowned at your mom and she raised her head to look at you.

She looked worried. You walked up to her, biting your lip. 

She brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I love you, sweetie. I just want you safe, okay? Please forgive me if my way of showing it is sometimes a little..." She struggled to find the words.

"A little mean?"

A light chuckle left her lips. "Yeah, something like that." She kissed your forehead and looked in your eyes. "Have fun today. I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled.

As you turned around to say goodbye to your dad you found him leaning on the threshold of the kitchen entrance. He smirked at you and you rushed and hugged him by the waist.

"I love you, kiddo." He ruffled your hair.

"I love you too, dad!" You smiled up to him.

As soon as you let go, you waved them a final goodbye, grabbed your anchor shaped keychain, and ran out the door rushing to school.

You said hi to Mrs Alianza, your tenant, and ran out the front door. You walked with a pep in your step, humming a tune to yourself.

The sounds of constructions and particular smells of New York greeted you. The usual people did their usual commute. Store after store was speckled with familiar faces, all of them buying, selling, and working as every other day.

The way to your school wasn't that long, which is why it was one of the only things your parents trusted you enough to do by yourself. You would walk up the street, make a right and at the end of that street was your school. The scent of the Starbucks hit your nose when you passed by the open door. You really wished you had money so you could buy yourself some hot cocoa. The weather of the last few days of September was nicely fresh, but since it was usually colder in the mornings the sweetness and wariness of the chocolatey goodness was just what you needed.

But since you were broke as the hobo down the street, you walked past it and headed to your destination. Prison.

Your school was an old building, it looked really fancy on the outside, but had the same crappy classrooms as any other public school had. The halls were filled to the brim with students who were chatting the start of their day away. You, however, just walked straight into your class. Mrs Peyton wasn't there yet, so you decided to simply sit down and open your assigned book. And yes, you had already read up to were your teacher told you, but what else were you going to do right now? Talk to people?

The seat next to you was usually empty, which is why it surprised you when you saw another girl sitting there.

Ok, you are a social incompetent. But please try this time to be relatable. Or at least not scare her off. You bullied yourself.

"Hey," You snapped your book closed and gave her an awkward smile. "A-Are you new here? I've never seen you before."

She looked taken aback by the fact that you were talking to her, but she also awkwardly smiled and nodded.

"Oh, well... Welcome!"

There was a heavy silence between the two of you. Mainly because you didn't know if to ask a question, or let her talk or ask you a question. Your mind kept rolling around to try and make this disgusting silence disappear.

"U-Um..." You struggled. "So, have long have you lived here?"

She looked at you weirdly. This is why I'm a social outcast. You thought.

"All my life? I just transferred schools." 

WELL, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT. You inwardly screamed.

"Oh! That's cool. What school were you attending before?" You asked as you repeated inwardly: Please don't say Visions. Don't say Visions.

"Visions Academy." SWEET MOTHER OF ICICLES-! "It was the best school I have ever attended."

"Ah. Why did you come here then?"

She looked at you as if it was an obvious answer. "My parents think I need to experience The Real World." The did an exasperated gesture. "What does that even mean!?" 

"Well, maybe they want you to see the other side?"

"And mingle with peasants? I would rather die." She huffed.

"Well, you are technically mingling with one." You pointed to yourself.

"Oh, no. I know you are, I just see you and don't think you'll remember what I tell you in a couple of days." 

Did she just call me stupid? You tried to maintain a calm and collected face.

"You don't look like the social type, so I guess you don't care that much for people's problems and grievances." She swatted the air with her hand. "To be honest. I wasn't even that popular in my other school. But if others know I was studying there, maybe I'll finally be popular!" She beamed as if it was her goal in life to be the centre of everyone's attention.

You had two options. Forget this annoying and self-absorbed girl, or make something out of this.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, A fake friend and a shadow only come by when the sun shines?" You looked at her and she shook her head. "It's Benjamin Franklin. Great guy. You might have heard of him."

That got a snort out of her. "Yeah, I have."

"What do you think that means?" You thoughtfully gazed at her.

She looked at you blankly for a second. "I... Don't know...?"

You adjusted yourself in your seat. "A shadow is by your side when the sun is out, just like a fake friend will. But disappear when the clouds roll by. A friend can do the same if they don't care for you and only care for your popularity. You think they'll stick around when the hard times come?"

It left her thinking. She was silent for a minute, looking everywhere except where you were sitting. Something told you that there was more to this girl than you initially thought. Just as she was going to answer you, Mrs Peyton arrived in the classroom and the bell ringed.

You didn't see the girl for the rest of the day.

The girl. Wow. You really had to start asking for people's names first, didn't you?

When your last period was over the bell rang and kids started filing out of the classrooms. Then you saw her.

She was wearing a pink skirt, as short as the dress code allowed her and a pink sweater with a white dress shirt neck coming out of the neck of the sweater. Yeah, she definitely came from a prep school. She contrasted highly with you. Yet, she pushed off the wall and approached you meekly.

"I was thinking about what you said." She claimed. "The truth is... I don't know what I am truly doing here. I don't know how long will I stay, but I just wanted... The validation I guess."

You smiled at her, sympathetically. "So, what do you really want?"

"A friend."

"I... I think I do too." You smiled at her.

"My name is Ashley."

"Mine is (Y/N)"

MONTHS LATER

You had no idea where this had come from. And honestly, neither did Ashley.

You were just one day chatting about the fact that the Avengers were the only guys without cooties in the whole world. They were actually super cool. You laid in your bed listening to Ashley talk about why Thor would beat Iron Man in the blink of an eye.

"I mean. It makes sense, as smart as Stark is, he doesn't level out with Thor's powers." She finalized the rant that you were barely paying attention to while you re-searched about them online. No. You weren't stalking. That's creepy.

"But that's where you are wrong. His source of power comes from his hammer. Right?"

"I guess?"

"Then look." You turned the laptop to her and showed her the security feed you were watching. "If we are talking combat, yes he is great. But so is Stark." 

In the feed Thor tried to lift his hammer just to not being able to and giving up, melting in a puddle of despair. "See? Without his hammer, he is basically defenceless."

"He still can fight. Without the suit Stark isn't much more, isn't he?"

"No no no. That's where you are wrong. Stark has the brains. Thor has the brawns." You smirked. "If Tony had to manage to beat Thor without his suit, I think he would find a way. He is way too intelligent for his own good."

"Maybe. But if there is something we can agree with, is that Cap is the whole package." 

You both flopped onto your mattress laughing at that. "That is America's good soldier!" You laughed.

"His butt, tho." 

"EW. NO. DISGUSTING. SHUT UP." You slammed her with a pillow.

You both kept laughing for a bit longer and slowly your laughs became more breathy and ceased being so loud and frequent. You slowly sat up.

It had been a while since you had thought about the 2012 incident. But seeing that footage from Thor and all that talk about mind versus brawn got you thinking... What was Loki doing here anyway? He definitely wasn't the brawns. And the way he got defeated was... Almost comical. But when you talked to him, he came across as a very thought inducing and mysterious guy. And being honest, no bad guy tries to dominate if he doesn't have a clever plan.

"You ever think about the villains the Avengers have to defeat?" You asked, your mind wandering.

"I barely do, honestly." She got up too and placed you pillows back into place. "I just like to think about how many lives they save. I know that they can't save everyone, but I am pretty grateful for the fact that this world is still here. I don't think we would be if it wasn't for them."

"Yeah... Yeah. You're right."

But after Ashley left you were still thinking. Your mind was going in circles. You had always been bad at social interaction, but the only two people you had ever felt truly comfortable talking to were Ashley and, strangely, Loki. How? You had just talked for a few minutes with him, but you could recall what he told you that day almost completely.

So that is how it started. You brought out your personal notebook and wrote down:

The 2012 Incident

And wrote all you could remember about your exchange with him. All you could remember about the ship, how you entered his cell. Your conversation. You repeated the events in your head over and over again until you wrote everything down. Over the next few days, you analyzed all you wrote, over and over again.

Your teachers noticed.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" Mrs Peyton asked as you wrote down ideas for the latest essay in her class. You had been spacing out for too long.

"Um! Yes, I'm good. Just... Writer's block, you know how it is..." You stumbled over your words. She didn't look convinced, but still, she gave you a tight lip smile and continued on to help students who were stuck.

A couple of days later you heard your name being called through the teacher's radio.

"(Y/N). Miss Jennifer wants to see you."

Ashley shot you a worried look, it wasn't often that you were called to your adviser's office. But you gave her a slight nod and got up your seat to go to the adviser's office.

You were surprised to see your father sitting there. "(Y/N), dear. We are happy you could join us."

"Is everything okay?" You questioned.

"Yes. Of course." Miss Jennifer reassured you and pointed towards the chair so you could sit down.

"We have had many comments lately on your daughter not being able to fully concentrate in classes. We just wanted to know if there is anything you would like to tell us, darling?" She said as nicely as she could.

Your dad raised an eyebrow in your direction.

Oh, crap. How were you going to explain this? You couldn't just say that a psychopath that you once crossed roads with had been occupying your thoughts.

"You see. Sometimes I want to write about many things, and if I get an idea for something I... Kinda space out. Sorry if I have worried anyone." You tried to answer, your voice sounding more confident than you actually felt.

"I see." She wrote something down.

"Has it been affecting her grades? I know she is smart, but she does have a tendency to lock herself in her head." You dad ask concerned.

"Well, although she has certainly been distracted, there is nothing wrong with her grades. She astoundingly completes her work. Besides her spacing out, her teachers don't fault her much on anything." She tried to calm your dad down. "I called this meeting, firstly to address this subject and make you aware of it Mr. (Y/L/N). However, there is one more matter I wanted to discuss."

"Well?"

She proceeded to show us in her laptop a scholarship program. "I know that (Y/N) is still quite young, but I think this would be an excellent outlet for her imagination." She slid a pamphlet towards us and continued to explain. "See, the WRITE Scholarship is based on talent, and not grades. Some start writing their entrances since they can hold a pencil, but I think that you have enough experience to start trying. You must turn it in, as of late, the last month of your senior year. Some write short stories, but some of the most successful are those who turn in essays about things that interest them. For example, a girl last year won by turning in an essay with proof and facts of how HYDRA had infiltrated so quietly into SHIELD. It won her the scholarship and she went to the college of her choice to keep learning what she loves."

It left you speechless. A scholarship that would fully pay for all your college expenses if you turned in an essay that blew their minds? It was like a dream come true. And you could write about anything. Anything at all.

Miss Jennifer kept talking and gushing about it, but you had already heard enough. There were so many possibilities as to what you could do.

But your mind kept going back to that girl who had investigated HYDRA. What if you could do the same... But examining why did the Incident of 2012 happen?

To Be Continued...

#loki x reader #loki odinson #Loki Laufeyson #loki x y/n #loki (marvel) #loki #Loki Friggason

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[momentofmemory]

it’s almost the end of october, which means one of the greatest, most terrifying exploits known to writers is upon us: NaNoWriMo.

there are plenty of super good survival posts out there, but as this’ll be my seventh time participating (six wins, hoping for a seventh), i thought i’d drop my own set of tips into the mix. i’m going to focus mostly on the practical details of how to write; if you want tips on the writing itself either search the writing/reference tags or pester me to do another one later :P with that said, ~on with the post~

Step One: Figure Out Your Goal

i know, i know, obviously it’s to write 50k, but what does that mean to you? are you expecting

polished prose, ready to send off to a publisher?

being able to write every day? 

just throwing up a bunch of ideas?

a mix of everything?

all of these are valid, but they’re going to require different approaches. if you want jaw-dropping writing, you’re going to need in the ballpark of five or more hours each day, if not more. if you want consistency, you’ll want to look at your normal schedule and set up a couple times you know you can write at. if just you want words, pretty much all you need to make sure is that you squeeze writing time in whenever.

your goal will probably change as the month progresses, and that’s totally fine. just check in every so often to remember a)what you’re working for and b)if it’s actually plausible. speaking of...

Step Two: Realize Your Limitations

1. Typing.

imma get super practical here: your typing speed dictates how fast you can get done. if you write 40wpm (the average), you cannot write the full 1667 in a half hour any more than you can run a mile in under three minutes. it’s honestly not a bad idea to check out your own speed, if only to help you understand yourself better. in my experience, actual writing then works like this (using my max speed, 89, as an example):

Absolute Max: 89 wpm (baseline)

Warring: 70 (75% of baseline)

In the zone: 45 (50% of baseline)

Taking my time, concentrated: 22 (25% of baseline)

anything lower than your max/4 probably means you’re spending a lot of time either researching or staring at the page, so just be aware of that.

2. Time & Focus

this kinda goes without saying, but best case scenario this is at least 1-2 hours of your life a day, or dedicating full Saturday/Sundays if you’re a weekend warrior kind of person. it’s so, so worth it if you can make time for it, but also don’t feel bad if you can’t! doing a half nano (25k) or whatever you want is also a fully acceptable plan.

that said, if you do have time, figure out your focus too. if you’ve never been the kind of person that can type for six hours straight, you will probably not magically become this person when it hits Nov. 1 (though with practice, you might be by Nov. 30). i like trying to write at least 300 before work and another 300 during lunch. that way there’s only 1k left for the evening, and having words on the page just makes me feel better. experiment with different ways of blocking out your time in the first few days and see what works best for you.

3. Don’t Forget You Live in a Body

writing is hard work, you will need to eat brain food! hunching over wrecks your back, stand up and stretch every so often! you will hate existing if you forgo sleep for days! and for the love of charles dickens, patron saint of getting paid by the word, take care of your mother-effing wrists!!

seriously on that last one. i’ve ignored it in the past and thoroughly screwed up my wrists one year; don’t be me. keep in them in a neutral position, do regular stretches, and if you need to, get wrist wraps (i recommend these).

Step Three: Actually Doing the Thing

the previous steps have had pretty broad advice, but now it’s time to get down to the nitty-gritty. these are mostly things i know work for me, and therefore may not for you—adjust to your own needs!

1. Write for 15 Minutes Every Day, Non-Negotiable.

i don’t even mean this is a “write 15 min and then your brain will be tricked into writing more” kinda way, but like, literally. you’re probably not going to be able to do 1667 every day—sometimes you’ll be tired and just won’t have the time. you’re very likely, however, to have 15 minutes, and you’ll want to use them. Doesn’t matter if you write 50 words or 500 in that time, at least you’ll have done something, and that’s usually enough to keep you from feeling like just giving up the next day.

2. You Might Need Physical Spaces

i’m a pretty sensory person when it comes to writing, and having a dedicated writing space is so helpful for me. going back to the idea of being an embodied person, it’s a lot easier to get your brain into a writing mode if your body’s already there. some good options include:

coffee shops (cozy! food!)

a specific room in your home (easily accessed! do what you want!)

libraries (free! quiet!)

a friend’s house (writing buddy! easy access to sounding board!)

all of these places usually have access to wifi, which is a positive.

3. You Definitely Need Digital Spaces

i pretty much always write in the same processor, once again because it helps set the mood. the main options include:

google drive (solid choice, cloud backup, mobile accessible)

dabble writer (cloud backup, links to nano, dark mode, chapter options)

write or die (only for actual writing—a scary but effective motivator; save elsewhere)

word/pages/etc. (ready to go on your computer, formatting options)

scrivener (great plotting tools, detailed interface)

i use dabble writer myself (they’re a nano sponsor, so you can get it free for this month, and as a double bonus you get it half off for the rest of the year if you win). and no, i’m not getting paid to wax poetic about them, but honestly i’ve used it to win the past two years and i adore it. 

anyway my biggest tip here is that i SUPER SUPER DON’T RECOMMEND NON-CLOUD OPTIONS. it’s very risky, but if you must, do a proper back up at least once a week. that shiz is not worth it.

4. The Timer is Your New Best Friend

because i’ve heard this argument before: no, it’s not a crutch, and no, it’s not cheating. it’s literally best practices. i’m personally a big fan of this online timer, and i let it run for 15 min every time i write. after each session i check how many words i wrote, then after maybe a quick 1-2 min break, start over.

you can totally set the timer for longer or shorter periods, depending on what works for you. i’m a fan of the 15 min sessions bc it’s just long enough to get a bit of flow going, and just short enough that i can convince my spacy brain that we can get through it without wandering. it’s also a fantastic length for warring, if you’re down for that.

5. Write That Idea Down for Lewis’s Sake

the original idea for the chronicles of narnia came to c.s. lewis when he was at a restaurant, and thank the lord, he wrote it down on a napkin. he wouldn’t write it until some time later, but if he hadn’t written it down, he might’ve forgotten it. why is this important, you ask?

BC YOU WILL FORGET THINGS.

if you have an idea, write it down in your phone or your notebook or the waterproof paper in your shower, because i don’t care how sure you are that you’ll remember it, you super won’t. i’ve forgotten many solutions to plot holes in my time and i still hold vigils over their graves. don’t be me. write it down.

Step Four: Managing that Inner Critic of Yours

all right, pay attention. i’m not going to tell you not to edit, because i would be a massive hypocrite if i did. i totally edit during nano. the important part is letting your editor help you win, not hurt you. and that means gaming your critic’s system.

1. Have a Dedicated Deletion Section

many people hear “don’t delete anything” and baulk, because for some of us it’s distracting and we want to rewrite that section until it matches our vision. so, i’m here to tell you: delete it!! rewrite entire chapters!! just save the original content as part of your word count. this is another reason i love dabble, bc at the start of nano i just make a separate part of the book, label it “delete”, and any time i’m writing and dislike a sentence/paragraph i just dump it into that folder and move on. this way you still get to keep the numbers (and why shouldn’t you? you wrote them!) while also writing words you actually like. plus, sometimes that line you deleted in ch. 1 winds up being supremely pertinent in ch.15, and now you can just copy/paste it instead of having to try to remember what exactly you’d said.

2. Acknowledge Ranting as a Time Honoured Tradition

think there’s no precedent for that 2K diatribe you wrote on the london underground? well fear not, because you can’t possibly do worse than hugo’s entire chapters worth of content on the french sewer system! or melville’s frankly terrifying obsession with the finer features of whale biology!

like, yeah, maybe you’ll decide later you don’t need it, but for now, embrace that soap box. dead white guys have been doing it for centuries and still get places in college syllabi. the least you can do is give it a place in your word count.

Step Five: Have Fun!

i know, i know, it’s cliche, but seriously. if this isn’t fun, or at least rewarding, why are you doing it anyway? so enjoy it! send passages you’re proud of to your friends! daydream about it in the car on the way to work/school! cry over a notebook about the twist you just came up with! nano’s a time of fun and exploration, and you shouldn’t miss out on it because you’re thinking too much.

also, this might be counter productive to put at the end of an essay on nano, but don’t obsess over reading essays on nano :P there comes a time when one must simply do, and nano is pretty much the definition of that.

#nanowrimo #writing tips #writing #reference #writing advice

[justice-for-shayla]

Chicken/Egg

A/N: The prompt was Sex before Love and Mutual Pining and I went all the way off. I guess I had something to get off my chest. 

Word Count: 1941 

Warnings: Sexual content, though not graphic, scary academic situations, angst, complete lack of editing,

Tag List: I’m tagging people who liked the prompt ask and some writers I admire in the hopes that people will read this because I’m very proud of it. @sassystrawberryk, @lieblingliebgott, @r-ahh-mi, @rami-hoe, @elliotmercury

Your acquaintance started with crowds.

He was a face you saw in a coffee shop, the only person who was there as often and as long as you were. You spoke for the first time when he came over to your table, awkward as all hell.

“Is someone sitting here?”  

The empty chair in front of you was a challenge. You both . knew perfectly well that you came in here nearly every day and spent hours working on one assignment or another, and no one had ever joined you. You had seen him watching you, and he had seen you watching him right back. The fact that the lunch rush had the place so packed that there really was no option other than for strangers to share was just the thing that finally made it impossible for the two of you to keep ignoring each other.

“No.” 

He shuffled, worrying the strap of his bag. “Can I sit there?” He gestured at the crowd, at all the full tables, at the first dates and business meetings and tired moms catching up.

You nodded and shifted your stuff on the table, allowing him a bit of space. “Sure.”

It took all of three minutes for him to get annoying. He didn’t have to say anything-- people rarely did with you-- it was apparent without words. He typed way to fucking fast.

The stupid clicking was rattling around in your head, driving all the very salient points you’d been trying to put into your essay out of your head. “Could you not?” You snapped after a minute?

“What?” He looked up at you with an expression like you’d yanked him out of a movie theater in the middle of the show.

“The… clicking. It’s annoying.”

He looked at his hands. “Um, sure.”

To his credit, he did try, and you appreciated that, so even when it kept being annoying you didn’t say anything else.

The next time you came in in the middle of the lunch rush, you saw him tucked in the corner like a shadow, and beelined for his table, rather than make eye-contact with the guy who was clearly trying to pack up the nerve to offer you his spare chair.

“Do you mind?” You asked, already putting your stuff down.

He just nodded.

His typing was less annoying today somehow, and you did your work in silence while he did his, neither of you overly concerned with the other’s presence.

Your friendship started with panic.

Sitting with him had become natural, an easy second-best to sitting alone. Neither of you bothered to ask before sitting anymore.

“Morning, Y/N,” He said, surprising you as you sat down.

“You know my name?” You asked, running through your limited conversations trying to remember when you’d told him that.

“Your coffee,” He said, “I noticed it last time.”

You stared at the cup, the barista’s scrawl marking out a slightly misspelled but legible version of your name. “Right.” You looked at his. “Ed? Huh, doesn’t fit somehow. Shit, sorry that was rude.”

“It’s not my real name,” He said casually, not looking up from his screen. “I’m Elliot.”

“You give a fake name when ordering coffee?” You asked.

He looked up at you, his eyes humorless and level. “It’s funny.”

“Right…” With that, you went back to your work.

Two hours later, you fucked something up. Your dissertation, nearly complete, nearly perfect, worth more to you than gold at this point, was gone.

“How? What the…” You searched through all your folders, sure that it had been moved somehow. Sure that this page, which said “File corrupted” in terrifyingly simple text, was somehow not your precious magnum opus. “How?”

Abruptly, your throat is closing and your eyes are filling with tears. “No… No, this can’t be--”

“Are you okay?” You had completely forgotten Elliot, he was so quiet, and in his dark clothes he slipped easily into the background, which is how you thought he wanted it.

You shook your head. “No, I… I did something dumb. I’m not even sure what-- My dissertation is gone.”

There was a small silence while expressions flitted across his face like he was arguing with himself. “Can I see?”

“I doubt there’s anything you can do, see it says that the file is  corrupted. Christ, i don’t even know what that means.”

Those eyes, which you were just now noticing were the most interesting color you’d ever seen, scanned over your screen. “Give me a minute.”

His fingers flitted over your keyboard, typing in languages you couldn’t make sense of. You vowed that if he managed this, you would never be irritated by his typing again.  He was almost exactly right; a little over a minute later he said, “Is this it?”

“Holy Christing Fuck,” You said, staring at your paper, risen from the dead like a sexy intellectual dracula. Unthinkingly, you stood up and moved around the table to wrap your arms around his neck.

He flinched, and you leapt back. “Christ, I’m so sorry. I have no sense of boundaries, I’m so sorry. Just… holy shit, thank you.”

In that moment, you could have kissed him, could have done a great many things to express your gratitude, not that you would have told him that.

“It’s fine,” He said, looking away from you. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

Somehow, that weirdness broke the ice, and after that you talked--Chatted!--whenever you sat together, and he even started walking you home if it got dark while you were there. He never answered when you asked what he was doing, but seeing as he lied about his name for coffee, this didn’t surprise or offend you. He was quirky; you liked that.

Fucking Elliot started because of the heat.

It got hot in New York in the summer, the ugly, sticky, shit-smelling heat that clogged pores and ruined moods. You had turned in your dissertation and were now researching a book, but your days looked the same as they always had. You woke up, you drank coffee, you researched and wrote.

And Elliot was there. Even when the heat got bad, he walked you home and didn’t take off his hoodie. You had kind of started to think about taking it off for him. Weeks and months sitting across from him at those stupid cafe tables had called certain things to your attention. His long fingers, his eyes which were so strangely colored and so fascinatingly keen, his low, steady voice which you were sure sounded amazing when it was gravelly with sex.

You didn’t say anything, remembering your disastrous attempt at hugging him, but at night you fantasized about those hands, those eyes, and that voice.

One day, it all crashed around you, like something out of a movie neither of you would like. He walked you home on a sweaty saturday, where thick clouds hung over the city like wool blankets, making the air soupy and hard to breathe. You were walking, a block away from your apartment when they finally released their burden in a sudden onslaught.

You were soaked through in an instant but you ran anyway and Elliot ran with you, his limbs flying strangely like he’d only heard of running, and was just now trying it out. If you hadn’t been floundering in a rain-soaked white dress you probably would have stopped to laugh at him.

As it was, you both powered to your building door, and strangely, he didn’t stop at the stoop like normal, he followed you up the stairs, right to your door.

His hair was stuck to his forehead, his hoodie sodden and clinging to him, and he was frozen in place staring at you.

What had been loose, flowing white fabric--perfect for the heat--was now transparent and plastered against your skin, highlighting every detail. He licked his lips, paused for a beat, and then put his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

He did, and after a moment of frantic grasping at hair and clothes and keys and doorknobs, you both fell into your apartment and he pressed you against the wall and held you there.

Both of you had to get out of all those wet clothes, the urgency perhaps more extreme because of how much you wanted him inside you in that moment. Your dress fell next to his hoodie, winding around it like a strange, artistic yin-yang sign on the floor, which you barely had time to notice before he brought his lips back to yours and on your neck and then your chest, your nipples.

You had been right about his voice. It had been good before, but low and rough with need and desperation while he thrust into you, it was something else altogether. You wished you could have kept the sound he let out when he came for another rainy day, one when he wasn’t here and you would have to take care of yourself.

After that, you had sex regularly. The heat and the sweat of the New York summer didn’t subside, and the two of you made your apartment that much hotter, but somehow you didn’t mind. Elliot was surprisingly good in bed, and when he wasn’t, he listened and learned well. It was a perfect situation, he wasn’t too much in your life, and you weren’t too much in his, exactly as you wanted it.

Except that you started to talk after you fucked. He told you about his parents and his sister, and you told him about your classmates and your book. You learned that he wanted to help people, that he was lonely most of the time but that he cared deeply about things he would never speak of.

You started to love him because of him.

Because of all that kindness wrapped in all that damage. He was so perfectly your type, and you connected with him better than you had with anyone else, but not on that level. No, Elliot didn’t love you the way you loved him. You watched him become comfortable in your apartment and imagined him moving in, living with you in your shitty overpriced studio. He hadn’t even invited you over to his place.

But he let you in in other ways. He showed you his favorite movies and he would lay down with his head in your lap, no longer skittish about touching you. You let yourself believe that these things meant something, even though there was no way. Distance was what Elliot did best.

Still, you couldn’t pull away from him, not even to save your sorry excuse for a heart. You kept sleeping with him, sharing coffee with him, yearning for him whenever he looked away from you.

It was pathetic, and you couldn’t even really care. You wanted him, and you wished he wanted you. It was classic, the very definition of romance from those books you’d pretentiously enjoyed as a teenager.

For weeks, you assumed it was one-sided, that Elliot would never see this as more than a casual fuck between friends, but it changed rapidly, shifting in an instant just like everything in your relationship had before.

He was dozing off on your chest, laying over you in the slow, heavy moments after a particularly good orgasm when he muttered, quietly but perfectly distinctly in his beautiful voice, “I love you.”

Though you wanted to cry, or to leap out of bed and punch the air, you simply smiled and pressed a kiss against his head in an easy little affectionate gesture you’d been denying yourself. “I love you too.”

#Elliot Alderson #Elliot Alderson x Reader #Elliot Alderson Imagine #Elliot x Reader #rami malek x reader #rami malek imagine

[jamiebluewind]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity :) ❤💛💚💙💜

What a fun question! Hum... let's see

1. My best friends. I love them so much. I have two wonderful best friends that have stuck by me for years, even during the hard times. They are just the source of so much of my happiness with our all goofs and indide jokes, but also a feeling of comfort and safety with them. I can tell them anything and they either just accept it (like me coming out or telling them about my past) or are ready to help (like if I'm having a panic attack). It's not all one way of course. I will drop everything yo be there for them too. It's funny, but when we're tired of people and want to be alone, it never includes each other. Like we just don't drain each other's batteries. It's nice.

2. My online friends. Yes. I'm talking to you @winterpower98, @fuocsniperbot98, @parano--vigilant, @fangirltothefullest, @random-pianist, @thesearcher1092, @champions-of-spirits, @madly-handsome, @crystrifoglio, @anotherphaseofpain, @5am-the-foxing-hour, @shoot-i-messed-up, @dillbugg, @an0therrand0, @ymmm-someone, @uwillneverknowwho, and anybody else on here that has touched my life (sorry if I missed anybody!) as well as the wonderful people I've met on other platforms too. You all have brought me so much joy. Yes, some of you can annoy the ever lovin HELL out of me sometimes, but I still love ya ;) Thanks for being a part of my life. You are all such wonderful people, each in their own way.

Winter, you are overflowing with kindness, understanding, and artistic talent that makes everyone who knows you see you as precious. I mean it. You are a beautiful precious bean. Anybody who doesn't see that is an idiot and I will fight them (and I wont be alone). You are always willing to listen, always ready to help, and always willing to learn and grow as a person. You accept everyone as they are and you are such a giving friend. You love what you love so purely and enthusiasticly too. Is it any wonder that anyone who knows you is ready to protect you with the ferocity that most people reserve for their favorite character and baby animals?

Fuoc, you are filled with chaotic energy, but also so much good and such a strong desire to help that you at times feel like a dnd character given human form. You are also a kickass artist! I love what you create and watching you put your own spin on things. You are a delight my wonderful rainbow demon seal and I am so lucky to have met you. ^_^

Celeste, you are a great listener and so brave and creative with your art. Not a lot of people are able to withstand the pressure to keep putting themselves out there like you do. You also have this... undercurrent of kindness that flows through your being. I'm not sure you're even aware of it, but it's always there and it's beautiful.

Toshi, you are just... you. A goose let loose on the world. You feel how you feel. You art how you art. Just... stream of conciousness randomness creating beautiful insanity. You own who you are and what you believe fearlessly. You work hard to achieve your dreams (even when your professors are being idiots) and harder to help your family. You deserve to be as kind to yourself as you are to others.

Random, you are cautious and walk the world like an adventurer exploring a cave with light steps and wide eyes, but when you share something, it's always worth it. Rather it's art, a story, or letting down a wall just enough to let yourself shine through. I love the caring talented person you are.

Blue, you are the embodiment of the kid in a candy store. Just so filled with bubbly pure excitement (with a bit of anxiety that tends to leak through at times *hugs*)! You apreciate things from rooftops, both creations and people. It's a sight to behold and absolutely contagious. I can't tell you how much I squealed when I seen your art of my story. I really did print it out ya know? I lost it in the move, so I plan on making another at some point. My new fridge requires art ;)

Josie? My dear? You are a doll. A tiny ball of hope, anxiety, and dreams. You care - just so much - about everybody. Strangers? Animals? Superiors? Friends? Family? It doesn't matter. You want to help them all. You will drive yourself into the ground to help someone. You will juggle as much as it takes. Your major in college was even picked BECAUSE of how much you want to help people! You are an amazing talented beautiful person who deserves all the love and appreciation in the world and your love of the written word is precious and contagious. Just... try to direct some of that beautiful carring nature towards yourself ya?

Madly. Madly, Madly, Madly. My fellow beautifully insane person and lover of dark things. We literally met brainstorming a serial killer! I love your dark sense of humor. Sometimes it's nice to just sit down with someone that I know wont get nightmares from darker story ideas and recommendations (or look at me like I must have something seriously wrong with me to come up with such things). You are that person. And you care. You really do. When you ask someone how they are, you mean it. You sincerely want to know. And you are so very... alive. It's the only way I can describe it. Just filled with... life. It's a beautiful thing.

Cryst, you are one of the people that inspired me to come on tumblr and share my first short story. You are wise beyond your years, kind, creative, and a real friend to those you know in real life and online. Your that person who always needs a tablet on hand because you never know when creativity will strike. You love the silly things and jokes, but you aren't afraid to roll up your sleeves and get down to business. You're also also a good listener and an honest editor and I'm so glad you seen my note on your speed paint. ^_^

Menace, you are the other person who inspired me to come to Tumblr and share my story, but instead of excitement (like Cryst), you used a gentle nudge and I think the one-two punch of the two of you is exactly what I needed. You my dear are made of feelings. You wear them like a cloak and they pour out of you with pure sincerity... and yet you somehow still have this quiet calm energy about you. It's like a flowing stream; calm and overflowing with life and movement at the same time. It actually comes through in your art and gives your pieces a very unique and beautiful feel. You're also kind and willing to listen. I know sometimes it feels like the world is on your shoulders, but I also know that you are filled with such great and beautiful things that sometimes are hidden just under the surface. Thank you for finding me.

Foxy? God. What do I even say about you? You dive in head first when you love something and make it your own. And when you don't like something? You don't play around with it either. You walk the world with a stubbornness that could put some bolders to shame, but because of it, you are honest about how you feel. You talk to a person because you like them, not because of social norms. You praise something because you think it's good, not to take it easy on somebody. It's actually very comforting. You're also silly and goofy and fun. You're empathetic and always trying to help out your readers, rather it's through asks, over tagging your creations, or making sure you balance your creations so they never end on a bad note. You are... you.

Shoot, you were my first reader. The first person to find me on this mess of a site. God. How confused were you when I practically wrote an essay thanking you for liking my little fic?! XD I've watched you grow and become the person you are and that person is pretty cool. Your desire to create comes in bursts. You live up to your username a little too much though and I desire to flick your ear when you worry so much. This momma bear says you are an amazing creator and a good friend and I'm proud of you ^_^

Dilly, you were always a hoot. I loved your stories and your creativity. It's been entirely too long since we've talked.

Rando, I haven't known you long, but I like you. You remind me of a kid rocking on their feet before jumping into a game of double dutch (type of jump rope with two ropes), hesitate and anxious, but still willing to jump in. I look forward to getting to know you more.

Ymmm, you are also fairly new, but I have had so much fun getting to know you. I think we started talking when I seen my phone was blowing up and realized you were going through and liking everything I've ever posted and reblogging half of it. XD You are fun, energetic, and you still read my tumblr even though I'm far less active than I used to be. I love your asks, your random messages, and chatting with you about nothing in particular. You are half the reason that I started getting back on occasionally to post things. ^_^

Who, you are the embodiment of a keysmash. Just stream of conciousness feelings and thoughts and all the things you love. It's a blast. You love to listen, you love to talk, and you love to have conversations about everything and nothing. It's wonderful to witness you finding something new and spazzing out over it. Your energy is infectious and sometimes it's nice to talk to someone who is cool with me talking in paragraphs. Case in point. Jesus. I think my point 2 went on a LITTLE long O_O

3. My cat Danny. He's a wonderful spoiled boy and a FANTASTIC ESA. He makes me laugh, he brings me comfort, and no matter what's going on, I know that this gray ball of crazy cat energy loves me.

4. Reseraching. Yes. I'm well aware that that's weird, but there's something about diving into something new and learning new facts and viewpoints that you never knew your entire life that is just so satisfying. Reading, experiments, or just talking to someone outside of my social circle. They all help me understand the world a little better and be more open minded. Some are simple (like learning how dice are made and what makes them more or less likely to be fair), some that seem simple at first turn out to be complex and nuanced (like black haircare, styling, and culture), and some are massive undertakings from the start (like intersex conditions). Each subject - from big to small - changes how I see the world.

5. Enjoying creations. I know that sounds vague, but I sincerely enjoy seeing what people create! As long as the creations aren't bigoted, odd are I'll love it because I love seeing the result of somebody take something from thought to reality. From classical art to fanfiction to my nephew's lego towers, each creation has it's own merit because each creation (even commissions) shows a part of the person that created it. After all, you can give five guitarists the same chord to play and no two sounds would be exactly the same. Now rather I actually like the end product of their creation varies. Some thing just aren't for me (like creepy pasta and country music). However, I can still appreciate that they made it.

On a side note, please don't be cruel to creators. Imagine there's a toddler still inside every creator who shows what they create. Some who are shy and fragile. Some who are overwhelmingly confident and proud. Some who just want to draw on the walls. All so easily crushed with a single hurtful word. Choose to see the good in what they make. Point out where they improved, tell them what you liked, and gently and tactfully pointing out small mistakes (like a typo or some other small overlooked thing) if you need to. And for god's sakes, don't be a bully.

#chain mail #bluewind talks #love my readers #dear god this got long #gonna copy this just in case it doesn't post #learned my lesson after so so many lost posts

[brynprocrastinates]

Do you think it's worthwhile for a young writer to make a writeblr? idk im sort of considering it but then i get intimidated and you made that post and i dont know what it's about and yeah. Feel free to not answer if you dont want to! I dont want to cause any drama

An Essay on Communities Like Writeblr.

It’s worthwhile (and imo, necessary) for up and coming writers to make some kind of social platform in which they can connect with other writers and build their writing skills. 

There’s no reason this needs to be done through tumblr. 

Tumblr is an easy place to make these kinds of connects, because it allows anyone to talk to anyone else through many different methods. Unfortunately, that also means anyone can criticize, bully, or gossip in a great number of (usually public, even anonymous) ways. All other platforms (like twitter, facebook, wordpress, blogger, instagram, etc) have their pros and cons for connecting with other writers too, and I’ve heard people have great success on all of them, as well as much disappointment. You have to decide what you think the best fit for you is.

There’s also no reason that you can’t use tumblr to connect with other writers and still keep yourself away from the ‘writeblr community’ aspect of it.

I’ve been on tumblr with character and writing driven blogs of all kinds for almost its entire lifespan, and there’s a cycle I’ve seen happen over and over again within these online communities, one which looks very nice from some angles and for some people, but has never been healthy for me personally (and often for the community as a whole.) 

The cycle looks something like this:

A group of people with similar hobbies or likes find each other and they become a community. (Or one person finds an already connected circle and joins the community.)

The community begins to grow. Around this time a few popular heads arise. People decide to try and make lists of the community members. They create norms and models for how the community should be and act. Everyone should be friendly and supportive, should have a page for their wips, should use one of a dozen specific formats for their url, should tag their posts with specific tags, should engage in community tag games, should post about certain things etc.

The community continues to grow and the community heads fight to hold their own personal norms within the community, often subconsciously. Someone says writeblr is a place for positivity and then people start attacking anyone they feel isn’t positive enough. A bunch of writbeblrs produce the same kind of introduction post and then someone gets mad if anyone suggests that isn’t the best way to introduce yourself. Some writeblrs get overwhelmed by certain things that are highly integrated into the community and tension forms with the people who love those aspects simple because it’s hard to keep track of who wants to participate in what. A few prominent writeblrs start mass tagging everyone on their ‘wip list’ so other writeblrs who had no interest in that feel like they need to do it in order to maintain the same level of attention and interaction as their friends. Certain types of posts act as a sort of popularity currency, and it becomes better for someone to create poor or inaccurate versions of those posts then to post what they genuinely want to talk about.

The closer someone gets to the heart of the community, the more pressure they’re put under to act as much like the more popular norms as possible, and the more competition breaks out to be the best within those norms. People who can thrive within the community norms do very well. People who either can’t or don’t wish to be in competition any longer either break out or slide into mentally and emotionally unhealthy patterns to continue fitting in. Occasionally the community breaks into groups or exists in a permanent state of ‘civil war’.

In a cycle like this, those existing in micro-circles at the edges of the community often don’t experience the same pressures (or see the same drama) that’s present at the community’s center, especially if they aren’t following the heads of the community. The bigger the community, the worse the toxic center becomes, but there’s also a higher chance that a wide array of safe and non-toxic micro-communities will form.

Now, it wouldn’t be right for me to talk about this without acknowledging my own part in it. I’ve tried to keep as much ‘drama’ off my main blog, and to not push my personal opinions of what should be the writing community norm on people, but I’m still a vocal believer in having wip pages and not giving unsolicited negative critique, and I’ve answered more in-depth asks about the right way to run a writeblr than I would’ve liked to. I’m not some innocent bystander in this. 

But I’m also very tired and a bit older than a lot of writeblrs. I don’t have any desire to feel the strain of acting under the norms I’ve contributed to setting up and I don’t want to continue to contribute to them in ways that might cause other people strain down the road. I came here to talk about the things I’ve been learning in my writing and conduct my blog in a way I enjoy.

I don’t want to say what a writeblr should be. I don’t want to hear anyone else say or imply that a writeblr should act in a certain way either. I want to go back to being a writer who could just write and a blogger who could just blog, and not give a shit what some online community thinks about it. 

So that’s what I’m doing: I’m declaring publicly that I don’t give a shit anymore. 

Whatever you choose and how you attempt to conduct that choice is a personal decision. There are many, many good people existing within the writeblr community, and there’s no reason not to engage with them. But it’s also worth acknowledging the cycle going on behind the scenes, because it will continue eating people alive.

#Anonymous #writeblr #I'm too tired to edit this #excuse the quality