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#jane has seen me eat TOO many times
ladybirdswritings · 4 months
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Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader
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TW - PTSD, mentions of abuse.
Summary - You realize that maybe working with a man as intimidating as Miguel O’Hara just isn’t for you… Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333
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six
You feel out of place. Stuffy, anxious, like a walking corpse with heavy eyes and an empty stomach. You’ve convinced yourself that once you waltz up those stairs, everyone is going to turn to you. Point and laugh as Mr. O’Hara rips you to tiny, pretty pieces with those awfully sharp teeth of his.
You took the stairs today because the glass elevator seems too dreadful. Each floor rising just getting you closer and closer to your demise, out in the open for the world to see.
You only have one flight left before you know it, though. The bittersweet stamina your body remembers from the times you used to twirl upon a silvered stage. You frown, maybe definitely purposely going slower up the final steps.
Your morning has been hectic. Your curls were in a battle with your hands and the straightener, reflecting the heat away like they were made of ice. Your hair is frizzy, and your ribbon has a tear in it. The sole of your boot is mere threads away from ripping apart and you’re terribly hungry. You had no time to eat, though.
The air constricts you as you reach the tip of the castle where the fanged creature with dark, unforgiving eyes dwells. Your body is overtaken with soft trembles yet you do your best to keep composed. Through the glass door and onto the shiny tiles.
The ambush doesn’t come… you ease.
Your eyes scan through the cold air that greets you. To your complete surprise, your Christmas tree still stands, covered in its pink bows and golden lights. You doubt you’ll ever be as confused as you are right now again at any other moment in your life.
Your eyes wander to the front desk where Cindy is seated, she smiles and nods and you swiftly make your way to her. Mary Jane wears glasses far too big for her petite face, clicking and clacking on her ivory keyboard.
“Hey!” She greets, handing you your bag of ribbons immediately.
It hasn’t been lit up to ash, it shocks you.
“Hey… is um…” thankfully she understands and you don’t have to say much more.
Christ, you’re treating him like he’s a monster tucked underneath your bed.
“Nope, he’s been out all morning… super weird between you and I, he’s never late!”
You believe her, but that doesn’t matter… all the tension in your body floats away like a cloud returning itself to the sky. The breath you’ve been holding since you conquered each step leaves you, and you finally feel as though you can breathe again.
“Uh oh, what’d you do?” Mary Jane inquires as she takes a sip of her peppermint tea.
You can only manage to shake your head, mumbling your gratitude softly and dragging the bag to the tree. The ladder still stands tall, taunting you with rusty screws.
“Hi pretty.” You whisper to the giant thing, hand burying itself in the tote to pluck out yet another pink ribbon. Knowing he’s gone, you work with ease. Gentle on the ladder, the ballerina in your heart still dances even though you cannot. Your balance is impeccable as you blanket the back of the tree now. It doesn’t take long.
Without him here, the office is alive. It’s happy. The women chat as they would while getting manicures at a salon. They giggle and swoon over Mr. O’Hara which is to be nothing more than expected. It makes you giggle. He must feel so high and mighty being surrounded by people bowing at the beck of his hand. Yet when his thumb doesn’t suffocate them, they blossom like roses.
They’re lovely, fun to listen to while you tinker with the tree. This is nice.
This is nice and the laughter and joy and “Santa, Baby” purring on the radio lasts all but an hour before dead silence and gasps soon flood your ears.
You chill, freezing up with your hand in the bag of bows. Your body is kneeling before the tree, the gold shining like starlight on your pretty features. Someone lowers the music quickly, and the man who simultaneously suffocates all the fun with just his presence alone walks through his elevator door.
You hear it ring, you hear the heavy clicks of his shoes and the adjust of his tie. Everyone is dead silent, now. Tense. Back to the normal that is known here.
You? You’re frozen, your head still bowed. You’re afraid of him, maybe. It is rare for you, you’re afraid of no one. Not anymore. Not after… well, it’s a promise you made to yourself.
Closer…
Closer..
Closer his boots near, until?
They stop.
They stop right beside you and god, it is right then in that moment that you’d rather run out and lay in the snow as you’re certain it would keep you warmer than you are in this moment, beneath him.
“You, come with me.” Is all he offers before marching forward on his path.
You gulp, maybe you misheard? A cautious glance at Cindy’s wide, sympathetic eyes and you know all you need to. This cruel, cruel man. He let you blanket his stupid, limp tree in ribbons, he let you get comfortable like a mouse under a warm lamp— not knowing there’s a serpent hiding away… ready to strike. Ready to tell you he’s letting you go.
Cindy raises her brows, as if rushing you to do something. To unfreeze. You dig your nails into your palm, hard enough to snap you back and you’re soon up on your feet. Each step you take, you look at nothing but your worn shoes.
The oak door is held open by him. They’re all staring, eyes like daggers stuck in your back.
“Time to actually do your work, ladies.” He commands, they comply immediately. Does he have a spy? Perhaps a meter that starts ringing when there’s too much fun…
The oak door slams, trapping you— the little mouse into his warm den. The sound startles you, making your eyes fall shut.
Keep it together…
He walks past you swiftly, scent of rich firewood and coffee intoxicating your body so much so that if you weren’t so horrified right now, your mouth would water.
“Sit.” He commands as he takes his place upon his leather throne.
You let out a shaky breath, making your way forward with all the force you have left within you. Maybe you should just blurt out an apology and book it straight for the highest hills you can find…
The zombie you are, dressed in clothes you used to wear for rehearsal as it’s all you have. Ivory tights and pom pom boots, a pink skirt and wrapped shirt. You rehearse the moves of walking and sitting like a dance you’ve danced before. The leather is cold when it engulfs you, unpleasant.
You clasp your hands in your lap, picking at the remnants of the French manicure Rio gave you last week. Waiting for it, expecting, remembering. Your head is hung in shame, in submission.
“You look nervous.” He observes.
You stay silent, reluctant to admit how true that really is.
You feel him, you feel him like fire on your skin. His eyes demanding your attention, but you can’t. You won’t. It isn’t good enough for him. He leans forward,
“You’re new here, but if you cared to ask my girls what my first rule is? You’d know that you look at me when I talk to you, do you understand?” He commands, and like a ballerina does, you mend and comply. Heated as your face as becomes, rapid as your heart flutters, and nervous as your being is… your eyes follow the order and shoot up to face his own.
They are dark, scorching into you like hellfire, an incomparable inferno. You want to shrink, but you won’t. You can’t give him the satisfaction.
“Rule two. Answer me.” He commands.
“Yes…” you whisper.
He’s satisfied, at least you hope. It certainly seems that way. He leans back in his leather chair and keeps his eyes locked on you. It is then you’re certain he’s a sadist. It’s obvious, obvious by the way you press your knees together and pick at your polish that you’re uncomfortable. He doesn’t care.
The silence is dreadful, heavy and suffocating. You try your best to hold it, stare into his eyes and ignore the fire burning your skin from the bone but god— it’s too much.
“I didn’t know!” You blurt out, half hoping he is deaf yet also half hoping he understands what you mean.
His eyes narrow and you’re certain you’ve made a fool of yourself again. You let your gaze fall and the subtle sound you hear under his breath makes you snap them right back up.
“I know. Keep it that way.” He forces through clenched, sharp teeth.
If he wasn’t so horrifying, so cruel, you’d feel sorry for him. His words, the subject, it’s painful for him to utter— to think of. You can tell.
The silence blankets the room again, and your eyes beg him to let you glance anywhere but at him. You’re desperate though, the bigger part of you. Desperate to suffer here, instead of home. Maybe he knows just how desperate you are, maybe he’s using it. Maybe he’s delaying the inevitable, maybe there’s nothing you can do to avoid it.
It seems like forever, but he eventually speaks.
“I want you to do something for me.”
Pack your shit and leave…
You finish his words within the confines of your mind, prepared for them. They never come, no… what follows only shocks you.
“I want a tree. A small one for my office. Red and blue ribbons, and soccer ornaments.”
What?
This man, this enigma of a man seems to be the most capable creature alive and able to make your head spin like a record. You shake your head, confused…
“What?” It’s a soft whisper, weak.
“Rule three, I don’t repeat myself. You heard me.”
You did. You did and you still don’t slightly believe it. You’re dreaming, that must be it. You fell on the stairs on the way up and you’ve been tucked away in a coma.
No. It can’t be true. Sure, if anyone on this earth would be intimidating enough to make you truly feel their gaze in a coma, it would be him… but it’s far too real, too intense to simply exist within your imagination.
“I— can do that, sir.”
He only nods, once. Voice louder now, commanding the room, commanding you.
“I want it done by tonight, on my desk before you leave.”
You nod, mind still jogging to keep up with this conversation, to understand it. Your brows are furrowed, eyes searching for an invisible answer around the room. They land back on him and it’s as if he was waiting for them to do just that. A raise of his brow and he gives you an expression you can’t quite understand.
“You’re dismissed.”
Oh.
He talks to you like you’re just a dull-brained creature, incapable of understanding a word he says, an idiot. You stand on your feet and then swiftly turn your back on him, which is somehow more frightening than looking him in the eyes.
That must be it, you suppose. You’re grateful. Baffled but, grateful. You won’t test your luck, you won’t question it. Perhaps Cindy was onto something with her analysis of him. He’s just not— soft.
No, he’s in control and commanding and intimidating and far far easier to deal with than the cavalry at home. Okay… okay, you can manage this.
Even so? You can’t walk quicker to the door, it seems— hurrying out like the inferno from his eyes is just behind you. It is. The oak creaks softly behind you, and you huff as you make it out to the other side, surviving to tell the story of how you evaded the beast. Mary Jane and Cindy’s eyes are wide and waiting.
You only offer a thumbs up and nod, then get straight to work.
You’re happy for the excuse to waltz the city during this lovely time of year. Especially when you’re not paying for the things you buy. The streets are lined with snowfall surrounding cobble pavement, brick roads and sparkling trees that reach the sky. There are smiling St. Nick’s on every street corner and employees dressed as elves in every small shop. It smells of coffee and chocolate chips.
You’re not at all dressed for December. Your check hasn’t come in just yet, you’ll buy warm clothes when it does. Jack Frost is a bite on your shoulder, cheeks and nose pink and chilled from the snow. You’re trembling.
That doesn’t matter though because you’re also dancing, right now. Dancing like you did as a ballerina; that equates to simply following orders. It isn’t until the warmth of the small gift shop nearby embraces you that you ease. Warmth crawls up your spine and burns Jack off of it. You can think, now. You can stop following orders, stop dancing.
Your trembling fingertips are numb, grazing over the snow globes, ribbons and ornaments. Hmm…
Soccer…
Perhaps he’s a fan…
Blue and red ribbon…
Your teeth chatter as you grab a wicker basket and collect each color. You find lights to compliment them and a dark, lonely little tree by the windowsill. Fitting. Ornaments, then. Soccer balls and goals, flags and tennis shoes. It becomes more apparent as you fill your basket that this is not for him.
Cautiously, you grab your cracked phone and find your watch history. The thumbnail, the picture from last night. Where the grinning ghost sits on his shoulders, she’s adorned in a socccer jersey. No, the tree is not for him at all…
It’s for her.
Sadness swells at the base of your throat but you force it down with a gulp. Gentle thing you are, always so empathetic with the world around you. Even the cruelest parts.
Yet, his words from earlier only echo in your mind.
Keep it that way.
Maybe you’re stupid or maybe you’ve just never been good at following orders when there’s not a wire hanger involved… but you just can’t.
Your eyes glaze over the wooden ornaments stand and land upon a dark oak frame with a vacant place for a picture. You know just what you’ll do…
Time passes quickly and you are back at the office soon. The tree is small, but you handle it with care and adoration. You tie the ribbons by hand and place them snugly upon the blossomed branches. The lights are a mixture of red, gold and blue. The star is gold too and it compliments the rest nicely. The ornaments are small, hanging like icicles from the tips of each branch. Overall? It’s perfect. Missing one, final touch though.
Everyone has left, the office lights dim. It’s just you and the grinch who’s steadily growing a heart. Maybe not three sizes bigger just yet, but you’ll take even a quarter. It’s big enough for him to keep you at least… for now.
You hurry over to the front desk where you print the picture, ink staining the colors vivid and bright.
Her smile was so pretty…
You cut the excess paper and grab the photo frame ornament, adorning it with the heart warming picture of him and his little girl. After you clean your mess, you place the final touch upon his tiny tree and revel in your masterpiece. Perfection, all you ever strive for.
But now? Back into the devil’s den.
You would be lying if you said your heart isn’t pounding as you approach the oak door, but as soon as you make it there— you steady yourself.
You remember who you are, what you have survived.
One cold man who you won’t know in a few months can’t take that. Your fire.
The tree is stable in your hands, but it needs both of them to balance upright. With your foot, you knock.
No answer.
You knock again…
And, no answer.
With a huff, you risk the possibility of angering the beast more than he usually is and use your bum to push the large thing open. You’re very much annoyed to find him alert and well, glasses resting on his face as he types away at a document on his laptop. The square thing looks like a toy compared to his hands.
Christ.
He doesn’t regard you, he doesn’t need to. He already gave his orders. You’re careful to maintain balance as you gently bring the tree to his desk and place it to the corner of him. A switch of a button and it glows. You catch him then, glancing just once at it before continuing his work. The lights reflect in his glasses.
You tidy up a few spots and ribbons that shifted from transfer and then step back to admire. You’re satisfied. You don’t bother saying goodbye, he’s immersed enough as is and you’d rather refrain from unnecessary interaction with the heatmiser.
You smooth your skirt as you make your way out, ribbons bouncing on your locks. The door shuts behind you, you’re safe again.
The tiles squeak as your boots kiss them, gathering your bag and phone— you get ready to leave. Near the stairs and then— oh, right. You forgot to unplug the tree.
You know well how much of a disaster it would be if you set the floor on fire. With a huff, you make your way back and check the moisture with two fingers. All is well. You bend over and unplug the golden shimmer to make the top floor even darker, hearing the oak door shut swiftly as you do. It makes you jump.
Just when you almost missed him.
His steps are heavy… heavier than usual. Quicker too.
He must be tired, anxious for his bed. He’s filthy rich. He probably has the biggest bed with dozens of pillows and the softest of sheets. You wish your bed was like that…
You turn.
Maybe one day you’ll have a bed just as— oh!
Two hands case you up against the wall beside your ribbon tree, and all you see in front of you is that look.
That. Look.
It’s back.
Monstrous, horrifying, furious with you.
The darkness, the redness in his eyes is clearer now. The veins in his neck and the tension in his shoulders and jaw.
He raises his hand, you flinch by habit. Grasped tightly in it is the picture, except now— the glass has been shattered and it’s cutting into his palms. Your eyes widen, hands reaching out to help him. He pulls his palm back before you can, moving his head so that his eyes are staring directly into yours.
That look.
You chill.
“¿Qué carajo es esto!? Huh!? Tell me!” He growls, voice guttural, loud, horrifying— and it is then that you realize now more than ever that you truly are the mouse. And he? He’s the serpent.
With a grunt, he throws the glass ornament with his smiling, pretty girl across the room. It shatters even more once the wall finds it. He cases you in again, and you know now just how trapped you truly are. Just you and him on this lonely floor. He’s angry. You’re shaking.
You’ve seen this anger before. In her… in Katerina.
A gulp, maybe you’re a fish because your mouth bobs open far too many times to explain and yet you can’t. speak. The words catch themselves on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes can’t take it, they fall shut as you slow your breathing. There’s panic on the horizon. Memories so familiar to this flood back like an ocean of poison in your mind.
His index and thumb move to grip your chin, so angry and yet his grip is only firm, not painful. He tugs your face enough so that your eyes shoot open again.
“Did I tell you to do this?” His voice, perhaps it’s scarier now. It’s dark, low, composed like a cap on shaken pop.
“You knew better, girl! You knew better!” Her voice now… Katerina’s. Echoing in your head.
You’re suffocating, the air around you is too thin. You can’t breathe, you can’t look at those eyes.
No, no no. You’re panicking. His features blur as tears pool in your sight. He tugs your chin again, they fall onto his fingertips.
“You already forgot my rules, huh? You stupid, stupid girl…” he spits.
“You ungrateful, stupid girl.” She screams against your skull.
“I told you to keep it that way, didn’t I? Díos mio! What’s the matter with you?” He’s exasperated. He’s asking, eyes commanding an answer from you. You don’t know.
What is the matter with you?
Like the mythology of Rogue, it’s like everything you touch withers by your hand.
After everything Katerina gave you… after he took a chance letting you work here.
Your throat constricts as you gaze into the serpent’s eyes. Your heart is a hummingbird’s then, fighting so hard to fill that clouded brain with oxygen. You’re dizzy. You’re remembering.
You can’t. You need to move you need—
You can’t stop yourself, hand shooting up to dig your nails into the skin of his wrist. His eyes shoot toward the spot and he hisses, pulling it back. You take the chance to escape.
Under his arm and you stumble forward, hugging your midsection with a gasp, desperate for a lick of oxygen to bless your burning lungs.
A sob takes over you, but a close of your eyes and a quick inhale of the firewood and coffee that intoxicates you and you remember just where you are. You’re in his office. You’re not with her. You’re here. You’re here and you don’t want to be, anymore.
No, no not with him. Not after this. All of it, all of him. It’s too much, it’s too far. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve home either but at least there you can save up and flee…
You’re so panicked, all your mind can do is run over the many ways you’re going to call home through the flashing images of her. Images of Katerina bloom like ivy in your mind as you plan out your next steps. You feel glued in place yet so desperate to leave.
You glance at the broken glass and jagged smile of the ghost girl, jumping when the warmth of his palm greets your shoulder.
“Mirame, look at me.” He commands, but softly. Rather, softer than usual.
You feel pathetic yet still, your hand shoots up to push his own away from behind you.
You’ve had enough.
You buried the devil in your past. Your life is far too valuable to dance with another one.
You’d rather be cased up at home forever, working a job around family that think of you as nothing more than scum than be around him for a day longer.
You know, now…
“I quit.” You force out through another sob, not daring to turn and face him. You’re hunched over, shaky and weak. On the verge of suffocating completely. You wipe at your eyes and don’t hear another sound from him before you snatch your bag and phone and practically run to the stairwell.
Two steps at a time, maybe three before December’s chill kisses you in icy greeting. You don’t need to whistle for a cab to brake. In you go, familiar as you’ve done this twice now because of him.
Only this time? You’ll never come back again…
🏷️ ‘s @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield | chap 6 song 🎧:
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twistedinthreads · 13 days
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Lost In The Labyrinth
Felix Catton x Fem!Reader
Part 2.
You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: drinking, drugs, mentions of sexual assault (not detailed, though it is very implied, and we will probably get into it in later parts), mentions of wounds/blood/a scar, sex talk, mentions of being called derogatory names during sex (no mention of what those names are though), movie references, Elvis reference (because I think that requires a warning lmfaooo), sweet Felix, Americanisms (there WILL be more, lol)
Playlist (a work in progress!)
A/N: we are soooo back baby! a little more reader lore and sweet Felix. Let's go!!! also if anyone has suggestions for songs to add to the fic playlist, let me know.
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The pub is crowded; of course it is. It’s Friday night and there’s an abundance of college students who wanna get fucked up, your friend group being one of them. You’re already a few rounds in, the alcohol flooding your system and your brain fuzzing. It feels nice, a subtle buzz that doesn’t completely overtake your senses but has you feeling relaxed and calm. The calm before the inevitable slurring of your speech and blurry vision as you get more drinks deep. 
“So, like,” Vera begins in her posh London accent. “Is he good?”
“Huh?” You ask, sipping at your pint, confused. You’d just been talking about Bette Davis in What Ever Happened To Baby Jane?, and have no fucking clue who the he could possibly be.
“Felix. Is he good in bed?” You nearly spit your drink out. Of course you talk about this stuff, but your friends have never really taken much interest in him in particular. “Has to be, the way everyone falls over him.”
“Yeah,” you shrug. “He’s good. I mean… sometimes he forgets I also need an orgasm, but when he does make me come, holy shit.”
“What about that other guy you fucked? At the beginning of the year?” Katie interjects. “Farleigh?”
“Oh,” you chuckle a bit. “Farleigh is Felix’s cousin.”
“Ooh, keeping it in the family I see.” Vera teases loudly, and you lightly slap her shoulder. You know she’s had too many when she gets rowdy and raucous like this. 
“Shut up,” but you laugh. “He was… he was good. Kinda mean? Like, he asked me if it was okay and stuff first but he called me names and shit. It was kinda hot. But Felix… Felix is sweet. He’s really like… earnest. I don’t know.”
“Someone’s in love,” Michelle sing-songs from your left. “I can’t blame you.”
“I’m not in love,” you mutter, though it’s a lie written in bold right across the page. “I could be, though. Like, if it keeps going. But enough about me! Vera, we know about that girl you’ve been seeing, stop keeping it a secret and tell us!”
Vera’s in the middle of a practical sonnet about Jade, this girl that she allegedly hates so much yet let eat her out for hours a few nights ago, when she abruptly stops and lets out a loud cackle. Your friend motions toward the door, her bobbed black hair bouncing on her head. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Of course it’s Felix and his posse; Farleigh, India, and Annabel never far behind. There are a few stragglers that you’ve seen before, but can’t remember the names of. You hadn’t made plans for tonight, telling him you were all booked up, so you’re not surprised to see him. Farleigh meets your gaze, and he taps Felix on the arm and points to you, giving you a smirk. 
Felix’s eyes light up and he makes his way through the maze of tables. “Darling!” 
“Hey, Felix,” he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, and you feel them heat up. Your friends are watching, eyes glued to your interaction. “Nice to see you.” It’s all so formal, but you don’t really know how to act with all eyes on you… though you’re so used to it. The paparazzi photographed you many times with your new “boytoy” as they always loved to say, or your “friend” whenever it was a girl. But this, somehow, feels like the exposure of something too intimate to share, something confined to dorm rooms and club bathrooms. He’s touchy in public, sure, but it's usually just your hand in his or an arm over your shoulder.
“Mind if we join you?” There’s enough seats, you guess, and you look at your friends. Katie purses her lips and nods, Vera is giving you a smirk, her red lips contorted toward the right side of her face, and Michelle just shrugs and says “sure!” and you know they’ll tease you later, but it’s not like you care.
“Lovely!” He hits both palms on the table, knocking your drinks so they fizz and move like the undulating sea in their glasses. “Farleigh!” He shouts over the noise, catching his cousin’s attention. 
“Oh my god,” Annabel’s eyes widen when she looks at you. “That jacket is gorgeous! You have to tell me where you got it.”
You hide your distaste; hanging out with Felix’s friends is when your pedigree really shines through. Your mother always did say you could really be an actress if you wanted to be, and your prowess is never on display more than when you have to lower to their shallow whims. “Oh! It’s one of my mom’s vintage Versace pieces. One of a kind. It was from one of her premieres, but she didn’t want it anymore so sent it off with me.”
“I love that!” She replies, and settles in across from you. 
If you were just buzzed before, you’re properly plastered by round 5. You can barely walk yourself up to the bar to order your round. Felix has to help you up, and walk you to the bar, and carry the shots for you. 
“Okay, okay,” Felix says when all the shots are distributed. “Last round. Seriously. Need to get this one home.” He kisses your cheek, just like at the beginning of the night. If you weren’t drunk, you’d be embarrassed by how sweaty you are. You’ve shed the jacket, leaving you in a black ribbed tank top, and still, you almost feel feverish. 
Once the drinks are downed and the conversation has run out, Felix helps you out of your seat and helps put your jacket on. Even in your stupor, you manage out an “I’m pathetic. Letting a man do everything for me? Humiliating.” It’s meant as a joke, but only kind of. Your cheeks, already warm, feel the embarrassment of having to have him assist you with everything. 
Felix laughs his hearty, genuine laugh, and you immediately sink into his arms. You wave a goodbye to your intoxicated friends, fumbling to light up a cigarette as you leave the pub and begin to make the trek back to your dorm. It’s not far, but it feels like forever, even with Felix’s help. 
“Woah there,” he grabs your waist when you nearly twist your ankle on a curb. “Gotta be careful, now.” 
“I am so drunk,” you slur out, laughing maniacally. 
“Believe me, I know,” he laughs. 
“I really want chips,” you murmur. “And a Diet Coke.” 
“I think that can be arranged,” he replies, as you stumble up the steps to your dorm building. “And chips as in…”
“The American kind. Crisps!” You mimic a British accent, nearly falling down in the process. 
When you get to your door, Felix takes your clutch, rummaging around to find your key before unlocking the door and ushering you inside. “There we go. Here, come here.” You sway a bit, and he helps to steady you, leading you over to your made bed. Your room is free of clutter, everything in its place, such a contrast to his. You fall back, moaning at the feeling of your mattress, though it’s much stiffer and bumpier than the one back home. 
Felix then goes to your closet, picking out the softest t-shirt he can find, and a pair of shorts with little blue stars on them. He finds them endearing; they look worn and well loved among your designer clothes and hand-me-downs from your mother. 
“Okay, I’m going to change your clothes, is that okay? And you should probably be sitting up, in case you throw up, okay? Can you do that for me?” His voice is so gentle that your eyes well up with tears. 
You’ve never been this gone in front of him before, and though you know he won’t take an apology in the morning, you’re going to give it. 
You reposition yourself on the bed. “Good girl,” he says under his breath. “Alright. First order of business, let’s get these shoes off.”
“You’re so nice to me,” it comes out dreamily. “And you’re really cute.”
That makes him chuckle. “As are you, darling.” He asks for your cooperation as he pulls your tights off, followed by your skirt, and then pulls the shorts up over your legs. He then asks you to sit up and put your arms above your head so he can take the tank top off gingerly. 
“Bra or no bra?” Is his next question. 
“Literally no one sleeps in their bra,” you reply matter-of-factly, booping his nose. “It just isn’t done, Fe. Women around the world resent you for assuming that’s a thing that happens.” 
“Okay, okay. Sorry.” But he knows you’re joking, knows you’re drunk, and unclasps the bra before sliding it off your shoulders. 
“No funny business, mister,” your voice has grown less amused, less enthusiastic, taking on a lethargic timbre. Your sentence trails off and your eyes flutter for a second, and Felix takes that time to stand up and make his way to the door to go get you the packet of crisps and Diet Coke you’d so desperately wanted, and a bottle of water for the morning. 
“Don’t leave,” you murmur, almost barely audible. “Please. Stay with me.”
“I’m just going to get snacks,” he reassures. “Go to sleep, I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”
You nod your head, and by the time he’s halfway down the hall, you’re out like a light.
The light streaming in wakes you up, barely recognizing that there’s a body next to you. It feels so normal, like this is the way it's always been. His arms around you, holding you so closely and tightly like if he lets you go, he’ll float away. You’ve gotten so used to this morning routine, especially on weekends, that it feels strange when you don’t wake up beside him. Two months of hot-and-heavy, constant time together, yet you still don’t know everything about him, and you’ve still got secrets you’ve yet to spill. 
You notice the pounding in your temple a few seconds after admiring the man next to you, and groan viciously at the pain. Maneuvering your hand out of his grasp and to your head, you find Advil and water neatly placed on your makeshift bedside table. You swallow the pills and chase them with the water, gulping it down before collapsing back into bed. 
“Rough night, yeah?” Felix chuckles, voice with a scruffy edge. 
You groan. “I’m so sorry,” you start lazily, still groggy. “Looks like old habits do die hard. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“Any time,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “Can you pass me the medicine? I’ve got a headache.”
“Sure thing,” you grab the glass of water and the bottle of pills. The rattle of them sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you now, and you cringe a bit. He swallows them down quickly and then grabs at your hips, pulling you back down with him. 
“Come on, we don’t have to be anywhere today,” he says quietly. “Let’s just be here.” You nod, and the two of you drift back to sleep. It reminds you of that interview you saw with Priscilla Presley once, about how she and Elvis would just stay in bed for days at a time. It doesn’t sound like such a bad idea when you’re wrapped up in his arms.
Later, once you’re awake and showered and dressed, after Felix has agreed to join you for a special screening of Lost in Translation at the local art house cinema, you utter it. While sitting at the American themed diner not far from campus, a tempered thank you. 
“For what?” He asks as the two of you walk, hand in hand. 
“For taking care of me,” your cheeks heat up once again, just like last night. “I just… I’ve been in some compromising situations before and you didn’t have to do that. No one else ever has. I’ve kinda just been on my own.”
He frowns and leans forward, dipping a fry in ketchup (he’d laughed at you when you’d called them fries, and you’d rolled your eyes and mocked his accent playfully, correcting yourself to the waitress.) “I’m so sorry… that’s… that’s rough.”
“You see this scar here?” You point to the one right above your eyebrow. “One time I passed out completely at a party… it was some executive’s kid’s birthday. Unlimited alcohol, unlimited cocaine. I must’ve hit my head on the tiles of the bathroom or worse… because I woke up completely naked with a bloody forehead.” You shudder, and he reaches his hands out to grab yours, letting the two of you bask in the stillness. “I still don’t know what happened but I’ve always assumed… I guess it’s good I don’t remember.” You feel the tears coming, and pinch the bridge of your nose to try to stop it. 
“Fuck.” 
“Yeah,” you breathe. “Fuck is right. I used to be a different person. That shit woke me up, quickly. But, uh, let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? Just uh, thank you. It means a lot.”
He rubs the back of your hand. “I care about you, okay? Just want you to be safe.” You nod. 
You eat in silence for a little bit. You take small bites of your burger and sipping at your Coke. None of it is as good as your usual haunts in New York, but it still makes you feel warm inside, gives you a little bit of home. 
“Are you going back to the states for winter break?” He asks later. 
“Yeah,” you dab at your mouth with a napkin. “Christmas in New York with mom, New Year’s in Charleston with dad.”
“And that’s a good thing, yeah?” A shrug in return. 
“I guess,” you take a bite of a cold fry. “I don’t really have… like, friends there. In either place. That’s the funny thing about New York. There are so many people, and yet, that allows for so much loneliness. Here, I feel like people care? They know me, it’s a community. I didn’t go to Columbia or NYU so I could get away from there. I don’t know. I love it, but I also hate it.” 
“Maybe someday you can take me there,” he says casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He sips at his soda and you look down and smile. “What? I’ve never seen New York, it’d be perfect.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. It’s a deal, Catton.” 
“That way it’ll be less lonely.” And it feels as though your heart breaks and mends all at once. 
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eyeballsoup7310 · 6 months
Text
(Rachel Rand voice)
There is a spiderweb in the corner of my room.
It’s been there for years, at this point. Mama’s hit it with the broom countless times, but after a few days it’s right back where it was. Dad says there’s an infestation— not just spiders, but everything. Ants. Wasps. Moths. There are more moth balls in my closet than anywhere else in the house, so Mama always has some candles burning. Dad thinks the candles just make it worse. I’ve never seen any of the bugs. I’ve never seen the spider, or the ants, or the moths when they eat through my cheap, secondhand Star Wars shirt. They eat through my clothes more than anyone else’s. Even Dad’s fancy tweed jacket that he never wears.
Tomorrow is Halloween. I’ll finally be able to get out of the house, I think. Tim has a party he has to go to, but Mama made him promise me he’ll bring me trick-or-treating first. He’s going to pick me up from dance class. I hope the mosquitoes won’t be out this year, like they were last year, and maybe even the year before. Tim hates the mosquitoes. I don’t know how many more years he’ll let me drag him along.
Tim tells me he never gets bugs up in that old attic that he moved into after the basement flooded last year, but I know he’s lying. I watched Dad, up on that old, rickety ladder, as he tried to break the wasp hive away from Tim’s window. They left eventually, but not before stinging him half to death. I’m the only one in the family who’s not allergic to bugs— my friends are all jealous that the mosquitoes never seem to bother me. Tim’s friend, Rolan, isn’t allergic either. Rolan already has plans to move away once he’s old enough. I’m going to miss him— he’s a better brother than Tim is, sometimes. I hope he comes with us trick-or-treating. I hope I’ll be able to leave this town when I’m old enough, too.
Sometimes I think I can hear the web talking to me. Whispering. Humming. Thrumming. Burning.
I’ve learned not to bring it up around other people, even Mama. My dance instructor. My friends. But the spiderweb is still there, and it’s taken up so much space, in the corner of my bedroom. I watch it while pretending to be asleep. I can’t see the molding anymore. I can hear it. It’s talking to me. I want to tell someone. I want to tell someone. I want to tell someone I want to tell someone Iwanttotellsomeone but no one can hear it except me. I don’t know what it’s saying. I want to know what it’s saying. I want to know why it talks to me. It speaks in a language I can’t understand. But I could. I know I could. I want to learn.
I think it wants me to learn, too.
Tomorrow is Halloween.
(Context for the Halloween bit, also inspired by Jane Prentiss’ statement in TMA)
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borzoilover69 · 9 months
Text
> BORZOI: READ HOMESTUCK LIKE ITS 2011 (PART 5)
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We pick back up after [S] END OF ACT 6 INTERMISSION 1 (page 4390) with a fucking spectacular music number (Infinity mechanism - Thomas ferkol). I'm such a big fan of the beat that comes in when we get to see Jane looking out her window, you have no idea. Also I didn't cover the intermission because i didn't say much. I appreciate and love the beta kids and trolls but I just have more gears turning where the alpha kids are involved because they're not so clear cut and dry emotional wise as the betas. I'm pretty sure greater analysers than me have said all there needs to be said for the beta kids. All I have to add is this piece of dialog from 4359 that I liked:
KARKAT: ALRIGHT IF YOU'RE REALLY GOING TO GO KARKAT: JUST KARKAT: BE CAREFUL KARKAT: NO MORE POINTLESS BLOODSHED, OK? THAT'S AN ORDER! KARKAT: WAIT FUCK KARKAT: I'M NOT LEADER ANYMORE KARKAT: ROSE CAN YOU ORDER HER TO DO THAT? KARKAT: SAY WHAT I JUST SAID, REALLY ANGRILY KARKAT: ASSUMING YOU CAN EVEN BE ANGRY. ROSE: ...
I really love how clingy Karkat but also accepting of his friends decisions goes. It's one of his great points as a knight of blood, but it also leads to some pretty funny turnabouts as he contradicts himself and fights himself on it.
4394 GIRL LOOK OUT
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4397 (call back to page 4107) Oh wait I've seen this before. That's neat.
4400: Get this shit outta the way. You're a busy bureaucrat. The clock is ticking, and time is dead kids.
Dead kids you say?
4405 Well dead kids it is. These scenes.. when i read these scenes.. with such shitty sketch lines.. in my mind I hear Buy Somethin Will Ya? from the Earthbound OST. Or Hi Hi Hi (Theme of Saturn Valley).
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You should be pleased to know those nuts were super deadly! Though to be fair he doesn't know if he died from the poison, or just choked on a bunch of barely chewed peanut bits. You know what else is super deadly, you say? Knives. Sharp deadly knives you stick in people's soft torsos to make them bleed until they die.
He doesn't have anything to say to that.
Dude i love this guy like deadass him and his whimsical hats and umbrellas and whatnot. I think he's my fav besides DD.
4408
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Lifey thing..
4413 IVE SEEN THIS BEFORE. HOLY SHIT!!(3220)
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4419 I really like parallels in homestuck. They make the world go round, you could say, because you read things and dont feel as lost because in a way it's strikingly familiar! Which is what happens here.
4422 Oh hunny.. nobody understands how whimsical. Jane crocker is to me. Look at her. ooo. That's a face. :o. õoô She is the whimsy.
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Nobody takes into account how many batshit things Jane sees and she hits them all with the ,':| ....
You guess you should feel grateful toward him for saving your life, but you know he's just as likely to rescue you from an explosion as he is to randomly teleport you across town, forcing you to call your dad and ask for a ride home, while you spend all day standing in some random field in the pouring rain while you wait hours for your dad to come and pick you up after he gets lost because he plugged the wrong place into google maps.
I really like the small bits of background we get about Jane too. Like this! Its such a nice scene. But it seems.. that uh oh! Guardian jumpscare.
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He tells you to get inside this instant.
Goddamn. Now where have i seen this before.. 4430 referencing 212.
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Except in this case, it's no case of magical happenstance gone awry with a server player losing internet, but a dad being.. a *tad* more serious than given with how you're so totally grounded. No wonder Jane is so stubborn!
As long as you just got done paying the piper, you might as well get busy eating all this goddamn crow. Oh so much of the stuff has gathered on your plate.
Eating the crow:  to admit that one was wrong or accept that one has been defeated.
paying the piper: bear the consequences of an action or activity that one has enjoyed.
These sayings are sooo cool too. Like I've never heard anyone use them but they're really neat!
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bowtied-pasta · 2 years
Text
Another callout post? On my blog? Yes.
If you simp for…
Slenderman
You have a suit kink
You absolutely have daddy issues and it’s terminal
Do I have to say anything about the tendrils or can we just all agree to not say anything about the tendrils?
Splendorman
You have a thing for that one trope where the characters are living in bliss until someone fucks with one of the characters and the other ones flips a switch and goes batshit trying to save them
How’s it feel to simp for a man that like 4% of the fandom recognizes enough to write about of their own free will?
You either headcanon he has a “normal” voice or that he has the silliest fucking clown shit going on, no in between
‘Fenderman
Much like Slender simps, I don’t believe I have to say anything about the very obvious attraction to tendrils that you have
How’s it feel to simp for a man that like 4% of the fandom recognizes enough to write about of their own free will?
You have your own version of him in your head and much like me, you have completely trashed the og scummy version of him and made him absolutely dateable
Kagekao
You probably hate wine
You have a thing for bullies that would absolutely be mean to you, regardless if that means they like you or not
You probably haven’t seen the art where his talon like toe nails actually fucking stick out of his stereotypical converse black shoes
Dark Link
You had a crush on Peter Pan when you were a kid
How’s it feel to like a character that 90% of the fandom doesn’t even know is a creepypasta?
Can I hear a “Ben is too much of a twink, so I became attracted to his goth twunk version instead.”
Zalgo
You want to be a prince/princess/royalty of some kind
You are a monster fucker and I cant explain enough how attracted to mouths you must be
You suffered through so many y/n fics that painted him as the bad guy, looking for a fic that would finally allow you to fuck him
Jeff
You absolutely read those y/n fics on quotev and wattpad and you were somehow smitten from the moment he cursed you out
You prolly have commitment issues or just emotional issues in general
You attempted an sfx version of his smile at least once. You cant lie to me
Jane
You are punk or you think punk is hot
You definitely have mommy issues
Tim
You have daddy issues
You tried smoking at some point because of this man, and if you decided you didn’t like it, you immediately moved on to try vaping
You probably like pink drinks from starbucks
Brian
Something something you like kidnapping tropes
In addition to that, you probably also like this man as a yandere
Dont even get me started on your mask kink, you cant deny it
Toby
You probably have adhd
You very likely believed his favorite food was waffles at some point, no matter how long you thought so
You like found family fics
Ben
You dont communicate very well at all
You like to call yourself a gamer. Wether or not that’s true is up for debate and I quite frankly don’t care enough to have said debate
You either despised the canon green hair picture of BEN that came out or you like it. There is no in between
E Jack
You would trust this man to patch your wounds and I can’t tell you enough how wrong you are for that
You have never tried to actually taste what kidneys are like, but growing up, you would answer those y/n quizzes as if you had eaten many organs in your short life
You, for some reason, think this man would smell good… and I’m sorry you think that
L Jack
I said this last time, but you fuck clowns
You like to say you don’t have a favorite candy, but if this man happened to give you something you didn’t like then you would be incredibly disgusted… but we both know you would eat it anyway
You don’t know if you prefer his monotone lack of color or if you think his rainbow self is nicer, but stripes… my guys, stripes just does it for ya, huh?
Helen Otis
You either are an art major or you make the mistake of over romanticizing the major by thinking it’s sexy
You can’t draw to save your life
Therapy sessions probably sound like a good date idea to you
The Puppeteer
You listened to Discord by Mandopony a lot when you were growing up
You have a bondage thing and refuse to admit it
You hate dolls because their creepy, but hell if you dont wanna be this mans “doll” for some reason
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ejzah · 6 months
Note
Would you do a short fic where Kensi freaks out about Twinkies being discontinued and Deeks tries to help her? Then maybe a time jump to when Twinkies were brought back?
A/N: I feel like someone has done a fic on this before, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me. Hopefully my fuzzy memories of said fic won’t influence this one two much.
Also, elements of this are fairly ridiculous.
***
Comfort Food
November 2012
“Oh my god,” Kensi gasped, stopping in the center of the bullpen as she stared down at her phone.
“What’s wrong?” Deeks asked with mild concern. She lifted her head, a distant, horrified look in her eye, and Deeks stomach sank.
“Something horrible,” she whispered.
“Is it—is someone sick?” He was by her side in a second, gently cupping her elbow. In all his time as her partner, Deeks had rarely seen Kensi so upset.
“No, it’s not like that.” She licked her bottom lip and gave the phone a little shake. “The Hostess company declared bankruptcy. There’s not going to be anymore Twinkies.”
“Wait, this is about snack cakes?” Deeks clarified.
“Not just any snack cake,” Kensi said, voice raising. “Twinkies. They’re soft and fluffy, cream in the middle. There’s nothing else like them, and I’ve been eating them since I was four.”
Although his first reaction had been bemusement, followed by the urge to laugh, he could tell Kensi was genuinely upset.
“Um ok, well I’m sure we can figure something out. Come on and sit down.”
Kensi did as he said, her shock quickly turning to anger. “I bet they’re going to be sold out everywhere too. I knew I should have restocked my supply last month, but I was on that whole health kick and it’s been bikini season.”
“Understandable,” Deeks replied while she rambled mindlessly. Despite his desire to comfort her, he felt his lip twitching.
“Now I’ll have to make do with Little Debbie,” she continued with obvious disdain. “Fancy Cakes are just not the same.”
“Yeah, they’ve got that whole waxy coating, like you’re eating a sweet candle.”
“Exactly.”
“You know what, I have a friend who works at one of the stores around here. I can ask him I he can set a couple boxes aside for you,” Deeks offered.
“You do that for me?” Kensi said softly. As though he’d just offered her a kidney.
“Sure. If it makes you happy.”
“Thanks, Deeks.” Kensi squeezed his hand. “You’re a good partner.” As he grabbed his phone, she added, “Um, maybe you can see if they have the family size boxes?”
“I’ll check.” Deeks grinned as he pulled up the right contact. There probably wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for Kensi Marie Blye if it meant she was happy.
***
October 2013
“Ok, what are we watching?” Kensi asked, coming back from the bathroom. Deeks was already reclined on her couch, sorting through the stack of DVDs she’d pulled out for movie night.
“I’m thinking “Somewhere in Time”,” Deeks decided.
“Sap.” Kensi gave him a fond look. “I approve though since it has both Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour in gorgeous dresses.”
“It always surprises me that you like those styles. But then I remember your obsession with “Titanic”.”
“Oh hush up and put on the movie,” she said, curling up beside him. “Wait, what’s this?” She pointed to the light blue paper gift bag on the side table.
“A present for you.”
“Okaaay. Should I be worried? You didn’t put some kind of gag gift in here that’s going to jump out at me, right?”
“Nope, that’s more your style than mine,” he said, glancing back as he slid the DVD into the player. “C’mon, open it.”
Sending him another suspicious glance, she pulled out the fluff of tissue paper on top, and pulled out the content without looking inside.
“Twinkies?” She glanced up with mild confusion now.
“Yeah, I kind of missed the grand reopening, but still wanted to celebrate the occasion,” Deeks explained with a shrug. “I figured you could never have too many Twinkies, right? I guess it’s kind of stupid.”
“No, it’s sweet. Thanks,” Kensi said, offering him a soft, genuine smile. “And you’re right, you can never have too many.” Tearing open the box, she dumped out a couple packages, tossing one to Deeks. He caught it in one hand before it hit the lamp.
“Uh, don’t you want to get one of the older boxes from last year, since those will expire sooner?” he asked.
“Um,” Kensi mumbled guiltily, a cake already halfway to her mouth. She bit into it, cheeks flushing slightly.
“Kensi, did you eat all of them already?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered around the Twinkie.
“Well, now we know who’s single-handedly keeping the company afloat,” he teased. When she didn’t answer, he nudged her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I still like you, Kensalina. Twinkie obsession and all.”
***
A/N: The second part was a little difficult because the production of Twinkies started back up smack in the middle of post-Sidorov time. So, I had to shift things a bit, because that’s all little too dark for this particular fic.
Thanks for the prompt!
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arkhamsrevenge · 1 year
Text
Dent’s Daughter
Pt. 2
(Authors Note: Sorry it’s taken so long for me to write a part 2! I have horrible writers block each time I write something. I never seem to know where to start pt2! Also, I imagine Gotham Knights Jason, Dick and Tim for part 1 &2)
“Here.” Red Hood handed me another ice pack. My throat had bruised over about 2 weeks into hiding. Red insisted on hiding me the moment we left the building. I didn’t remember most of our journey to the safe house, still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. Harvey...no Two-Face almost killed me. Red sat down next to me as I placed the ice pack on my throat, the cold dulled the ach a little bit. Out of the 2 weeks we have been here Robin hadn't come to see me. Red said his guilt is eating him up. He blames himself for what happened. I didn’t blame him at all. It was going to happen one way or another, I knew I'd have to confront that fear eventually. I just hoped Harvey would have been the one I spoke with.  “Is there anything else I can do?” Red whispered. I shook my head, still not able to speak. Some words were making their way out to my mouth but often my throat started to pulsate if I used it for too long. “Ok. I’ll be...outside.” He said getting up and walking out of the room. Red insisted on guarding the safe house himself, making sure Two Face’s goons weren’t lurking around. I closed my eyes and laid down on the couch.  
When I woke again, it was light out. The ice pack was gone but water and some eggs were waiting for me on the coffee table along with the Jane Austin book I was reading. “I was wondering where that went.” I sat up and turned to Red. “I must’ve put it in your pile of books when I got them.” My eyebrows furrowed.  
“Y-you re-read?” I strained. Red nodded.  
“I read a lot and do some knitting.” I felt a soft smile appear on my face.  
“I..cro-chet.” I croaked. “Easier.” Red chuckled, his voice boomed throughout the room. I felt my cheeks get hot. Over the 2 weeks we’ve been together, oddly Red and I became close. I enjoyed his company and he seemed to like mine.  
“Really? I thought knitting was easier for me. Do you like the book?” I nodded. “Good. Glad someone else has a good taste in books.” Red then took two long strides to sit next to me. The couch creaked as his weight was added. “Eat.” My eyes broke away from the white lenses, picked up the eggs and started to eat. The eggs were soft and didn’t need much effort to get down. As I ate, I reached for the remote to turn on the TV.  
“This is Vicky Vale with the morning news.” Oh fantastic. “Two Face has been behind bars for days now. His hearing begins tomorrow so he may answer for his crimes.” Red reached for the remote, but I held it out of reach giving him a “I’m not a baby” look. He then retracted and held his hands up surrendering. “However, Gotham citizens are still wondering where his adapted daughter is. Many guess she is in hiding, now we all hold our breath to see if she will testify again-” I turned the TV off. Testify? Are they nuts? I can’t even speak right now? “Shit.” Red mumbled. I turned to him, he was starting at the turned off TV.  
“How?” I asked in my raspy voice. Red finally turned to me. I could almost see the clogs turning in his head as he thought of what to say next.  
“You don’t have to.” He boomed. “You wanna stay and hide, I’ll make sure no one will interfere with that.” We sat in silence for a beat. “I’m going to contact Wing and Robin...I’m also gonna call Batgirl. She might be nice company to have around.” I nodded and swallowed roughly. “Hey. No one is gonna force you to do anything.” Red said putting a hand on my thigh. I was too scared to even get nervous of how close he was. All I could do was give him a small sad smile before he got up and left to call the others. Once I heard the door close, tears started to stream down my cheeks. Not wanting to be seen, I ran to the bathroom before covering my mouth to hide the sobs. I slid down the door and let myself fall apart. My heart broke from the attack from Two Face, and the loss of Harvey as a father.  Fear crept in, would I have to testify again Two Face or worse Harvey.  It looks my legs turning numb to bring myself back to reality. I rubbed them to get the blood flowing again before I stood up and cleaned off my face. I stayed in the bathroom for a little while longer to calm down before I opened the door. Before I walked out, I caught myself in the mirror. I had been avoiding them since the attack but this still I turned to see what I looked like. I look like shit. My throat was bruised yes but Red forgot to mention that the bruises took the form of Two Face’s hands.  
“It’s really not that bad.” I jumped when a deep voice came through, I turned to see who was not recognizing the voice. I was met with a shadow, a HUGE shadow.  
“Red?” I asked. I still sound like I smoke 9 packs of cigarettes a day.  
“Yeah sorry, should have warned you.” I swallowed, hoping he didn’t see my cheeks turning red. Without the mask muffling his voice, he sounded deeper and handsome. “It doesn’t look as bad as you think, and it’ll heal.” I nodded and looked back in the mirror.  
“You might wanna put your mask on.” I croaked. “Or else I’ll tell Two Face who you really are.” I heard a deep grumble emerge. He was laughing.  
“The mask is for you not me.” Red chuckled.  I gave him a small smile.
“How so?”  
“Can’t have you fainting at the sight of me. You might hit your head.” I snorted.  
“Ah. To handsome for the human eye?” There was silence between us.  
“Not exactly.” He grumbled. “Handsome isn’t how I’d describe my face.” I then understood, he was uncomfortable with the look of his face. He didn’t want to be seen by me. “Might scare you.”  
“I don’t think you can scare more than Two Face did.” I whispered. “But I’m not gonna force you to do something you're not comfortable with. I’m ok with little to know lights.” Red hummed.  
“Thanks.” I nodded and exited the bathroom. I was then met with Nightwing and Robin, who took one look at me and looked like he was gonna burst into tears. Guilt radiated off of him.  
“Let me guess. I need to testify.” I croaked.
“Hey, your voice is coming back!” Nightwing cheered. Robin’s eyes dropped. I started to get annoyed, he could at least look at me.
“Dude. It’s not your fault. It happened. Are you concussed?” Robin’s eyes shot at me and widened.  
“Am..I ok?” He asked. I nodded. “I’m good.” The tension seemed to ease. “You’re not gonna testify.” And here it comes again. I swallowed roughly.  
“How come?”  
“DO YOU WANNA TESTIFY?” Nightwing shouted. I blinked.  
“Would it help Harvey get better?” Everyone’s eyes were on me. I felt a creep up my spine.  
“Damn, you were right Red Hood. She’s got hella balls.” A female voice entered. I turned around to see Batgirl. Holy shit. “Hi, I’m-” “Yeah, I know. Batgirl. Big fan actually.”  
“That hurt.” Robin mumbled.  
“Just prove she’s got great taste. Right again Red. Oh. Are we showing her?” I took a step back.  
“Show me what?”  
“Who we are of course.” Batgirl said like it was nothing.  
“Why the hell would you show me who all of you are. I’m Two Face’s daughter.” I was in shock. What the hell is wrong with these vigilantes. The purpose of a secret identity is for it to be a SECRET.
“No. Your Harvey Dent’s daughter.” Batgirl said softly.
“Why does that matter?” I whispered.  
“Because your adapted father and ours were close. Very close.” I furrowed my brow. Batgirl then stepped forward and took off her cowl.  
“Hey. I’m Barbra.”  
“Oh. The Commissioner’s kid. Ok yeah, that makes sense.” I thought for a moment. Who did The Commissioner talk to the most. Bruce Wayne. I smiled and turned to look at Nightwing. “Dick Grayson, Tim Drake and,” I turned to the towering shadow who had been silent. “Jason Todd.”
After a very long pause we were all sitting around the small safe house sharing stories about our mentors.  Jason had been silent for most of it. I felt his eyes burning into the side of my head, like he was confused or something. I caught Dick elbow him to which Jason grunted.  
“Well, it was nice to finally meet you. But we all have...a case to build. Two Face may have more allies than we thought.” Barbra finally said as she stood up and stretched. I nodded.  
“I can help. I know most of the people Harvey put away. Maybe Two Face made friends with them.” Barbra’s face lit up.  
“That would be wonderful! Can you write them down tonight? Jason can send it over to me.” Barbra asked, getting ready to leave through the window with Dick and Tim. I realized that Jason was staying behind, hopefully he’ll talk to me instead of staring and grumbling.  
“Yeah.” I answered before they all disappeared. My stomach growled at me, guess it’s time for dinner. I turned to Jason who had his head down. “Hey you hungry?” He didn’t respond. By now I’ve picked up what was wrong, why he was so apprehensive about showing his face. There's a giant scar on the side of his head. I didn’t mind it, thought it made him look cool but I’m sure he doesn’t like it because it holds as a painful reminder of trauma long ago. “I’ll make something for you anyway. You’ll defiantly eat it,” I turned to see Jason looming over me, his eyes still down. “later.”  His huge form boxed me in against the kitchen sink. “Dude. Are you ok?” I asked genuinely.  
“Are you scared of me?” Jason asked.  
“Uh, no? But the way you're looming over me doesn’t exactly scream harmless Michael Myers.” Jason moved back slightly. “What’s really bothering you?”  
“You.” He answered. I blinked not knowing why I was the one bothering him when he’s been all dark and bruiting for the past hour. “You look at me like my face isn’t scary.”  
“It’s not.”  
“Don’t lie.” I took a step forward.  
“I’m not. Your face isn’t scary Red. Quit the opposite.” I waited for his response. Jason finally raised his head, his blue eyes met mine. He seemed to be studying me to see if I was really telling the truth. His eyes changed when he confirmed I was indeed truthful with him. Jason’s hands slowly made their way to my arms; they traveled upward till he stopped at my throat. His fingers brushed up against the bruises lightly not wanting to disturb them causing pain.  My hands reached up to hold his wrists. We stayed in our position for minutes or hours I’m not really sure.  My body felt tingly and calm. I knew he wouldn't hurt me; it didn’t even cross my mind. I waited for him to say something. Finally, his arms dropped.    
“Sorry. I just-” Jason started.  
“It’s ok. I trust you.” I said, walking around him, still confused about what the hell just happened. “Do you want-” I was interrupted by Jason pulling me back. His lips were on mine. One arm had pulled me to him while the other cupped under my jaw. I closed my eyes after a second to process what was happening and kissed back. Jason suddenly jumped back, breaking the kiss.  
“Sorry I shouldn't of force you to-” This time I pulled him back to me to kiss him again. It’s been a bit since I’ve trusted anyone like this. I smiled to myself as I felt him relax into the kiss.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” I whispered letting go of him. Jason shifted on his feet.
‘I’m not...right. And this is new for me, so I don’t-”
“Woah. Woah there. It was a kiss Jason, not a marriage proposal.” I chuckled. Jason actually smiled. “It’s ok. We’ll just...for now.”  
“I’ve got a lot of baggage.” Jason mumbled.  
“Me too.”  
“I’ve got a lot of trust issues.”
“I was strangled by the one person who promised never to hurt me.”
“Fair enough.” I laughed at that. Well not fully laughed more like wheezed. “I’ll make dinner. You don’t use enough spices.” I rolled my eyes.
“Excuse me for being unseasoned.” That made Jason laugh.  
“It’s been four days since Two Face broke out of Arkham. How is she doing?” I heard Babs whisper. Currently, I’m “asleep” in my bed.
“She’s fine. She knows nothing is gonna get past me.” Jason whispered back in a low tone. I smiled. Yes I do.  
“Damn it Killer. Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” My breath caught in my throat. I turned around to face the monster that had attacked me weeks ago.
“H-Harvey? How?”
Harvey’s eyes widened as they looked at my throat, tears started to well up in his eyes.  
“They-they wouldn’t tell me what I did. They only said it was bad and I need to get better before I see you.” I heard the heart break in his voice. The realization of what he had done was finally hitting him. Harvey stepped closer; I backed up in reaction. “Hey....Killer come on you know me. I’d never-not on purpose.” The tears were falling now.  
“Harvey you gotta get back to the doctors. They can help.” My voice shook as I kept a good distance between us.  
“I know but I was worried about you. Just come with me back to the doctors, I just wanted to know you were ok.” I knew it was a bad idea, but I wanted to believe him so badly. He looked, talked and acted like Harvey but my flight or fight response wanted me to fly out of the parking lot. We are literally in the parking lot of Gotham PD. I agreed to testify for Harvey, I was going to take the stand and tell our story, how Harvey took me in, how he cared for me.  
“I can’t go with you.” My heart was pounding in my chest, worried it was going to explode. I slowly started to walk backwards. Harvey started to advance towards me until he stopped short. I felt a gloved hand around my waist. I knew who it was. Red Hood. I let him push me behind him, shielding me from Harvey.  
“You’re sick Harv. You hurt her bad, do right by her now. Turn yourself in.”  
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hollowcreeps · 5 months
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Jeff The Killer Headcanons
Jeffrey has a tattoo machine and has given himself many tattoos. He's not actually bad at it. He definitely has a half sleeve.
Is actually really good at drawing. He doesn't have an art style. He just wings it.
He named his knives. Fight me.
He listens to all kinds of metal. Nu metal? Black? Metal? He has a wide variety.
He likes slasher films. His favorite was sleepaway camp but then he watched Idle Hands.
His room is covered in band posters and horror movie posters.
It's also pretty dirty. He doesn't clean up after himself well, but it isn't filthy. He has clothes littered and he doesnt change his sheets (if he has any at all)
He has eyelids in my universe. He also wears eyeliner. He paints his nails too.
He really likes cucumbers..like..he realy likes them. The other creeps are concerned.
He also loves cherries.
He drinks. A lot. It's not as bad as it was but he still does it quite a bit. His poison of choice is peanut butter whiskey.
He drinks the original monsters and thinks it makes him better than others. He thinks he's the shit for not drinking the other kinds.
Some parts of his skin is messed up from being burned. Don't mention it unless you want a knife thrown at your head.
Jeff has no problem eating some foods raw or undercooked. He has been seen eating raw pasta, under baked brownies, slightly undercooked hamburger meat. It's a hazard at this point.
He has a habit of choking on his food. He either doesnt chew it enough or unintentionally breathes in while eating.
He is a prankster. He will set clocks to different times so no one knows what's right, and will even do it on whoever is unfortunate enough to keep their phone unlocked. He once switched some of everyone's clothes out. Ej had Toby's favorite sweater, toby had one of sally's dresses, clockwork had one of Jane's dresses-it was awful.
He carves shit into random places. There is a stick figure etched into ej's bed frame and he carved "dick" into Jane's bookshelf. People have to routinely check for carvings that the smiling psycho has left behind. Slenderman got so sick of it, that jeff can find wooden disks around specifically for him to carve on.
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stonyponyofficial · 9 months
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aw sweet! see what it says on the calendar?summer has sprung, it seems! some might say its time to show u sillies some songs for the season!
spotify link :3 :: yt link :3
full list + notes under the cut ^w^
Aluralura - Sweet Trip: this somg is soooooo fucking smooth. and cool. using the strictest definition of cool i can. perhaps cooler than cool. dk what ud even call that but this is it. sounds like i should be cruisin down the information highway to this straight up. feels like im being hit with a million little lightning bolts in. a good way? that doesnt sound good but it is. ull get it just listen pls just li
Babe of the Abyss - Girls Rituals: UGH devi.. i was so sad when this was pulled from streaming for a bit like some of the other singles from the upcoming girls rituals, but thankfully it did return :3 unlike the rest of those songs :/ eh this one is good enough to make up for it! so glittery and clicky and kinda unlike a lot of other songs devis done but it's v unique like that :3 the cover is interesting to me too bc it looks ai generated and it reminds me of a video devi made explaining her songwriting process a bit and after setting an arpeggiater (dk if i spelled that right lmao) to random she said she likes the collaboration between her and her computer and letting the computer decide some things like that :3 idk just a neat little factoid for ya
BALD! - JPEGMAFIA: was gonna put one of the tracks off scaring the hoes in this spot but, after deciding to go through peggys solo stuff a bit i liked this one even more than those ones :3 he has a very interesting and wide ranging sound tho so im really excitied to listen to more. uhh nothing else to say really. juts good song 👍
Cops and robbers - underscores: new underscores era hello anyone rockin wit it???? ME im rocking with jt thank u very much!! that one song count of three (you can eat $#@!), which ive heard is very good :3, was the end of the fishmonger era for them, where the "thing" was apparently that underscores wanted guitar on each track. still trying to find The thing about this eras sound, and maybe its the deeming it "the Wallsocket era", but to me everything just feels very buzzy, very electrically alive idk. like theres just this CRT/fluorescent light hum that backs the bass at the beginning. and the middle section just sounds like im listening to a fucking tesla coil make a pop song. shit Rocks. and Fucks. i give this one the Makes Violet Sing And Dance Around In Her Room Alone award this season, which is something i will absolutely be doing from now on and will not forget for the fall hehe :3
Dariacore Song Tutorial - leroy/Jane Remover: wait i thought there was YEAH there was dariacore on the last one, but as ive seen it so elegantly explained, this is a jane song more than a dariacore song. i mean obviously sonically right, no memey hyperpop mash up font, just some loud ass guitars n drums, but its good!!! jane literally incapable of missing.
Dress Down - Kaoru Akimoto: one of my many music moments recently has been getting into city pop more! i kiiinda only know the hits, of which this is definitely one of them, but ive seen my way around a bit B) (my cool sunglasses guy do not steal.) and even after my journey round the city.. pop, this is still one of my faves.
FELL - Varg^2™️ (im toolazy to make it superscript sowwy) & Bladee: since i began my drain journey i thought id listened to most if not all of bladees stuff besides like really old stuff that actually isnt good. like, bladee isnt good, but u get used to it as the saying goes and u kinda get to see his artistic vision unfold as he releases new stuff. but old bladee really isnt good. anyway imagine my delight and splendor when i see theres another Varg^2TM, Bladee collab... besides ecco and the rest of drain gang varg is probably my favorite bladee collaborator. in fact i almost put SHINIE, another collab from them, on some spring songs but it didnt make the cut unfortch. glad i could find something new from them to dig into mm yummy bladee :3
!¡! find the answer ¡!¡ - six impala: holy FUCK i am listening to six impala!
光の中へ (hikari no naka e)- Kessoku Band: yeah yeah i know there was kessoku band on the last one BUT THEY MADE MORE SO I LISTENED TO IT. they have such good push and pull with their tunes. like the moments of silence/slowing down before going all out. the quick drum interjections to pick things back up again. like nijikas fuckin getting it!!!! actually i read something recently about the critical reception to kessoku band, the self titled album, that makes a similar point. they were saying that although the album is just good j-rock on its own, the strength of the individual instruments and the texture of the songs themselves embodies the characters in your mind. like i listened to the beginning a bit closer one time and heard the little shreds the guitar was giving at the top and it instantly made me think like "oh shit bocchis fucking tearing it up!" soooo good instantly one of my faves from them.
It Was A Good Day - Ice Cube: fuuuuuuck i cant fucking find it i wasngonna put it here bc its the reason i added it to my playlist and have been listening to it so mch recently but. i cant find it. it was a top text bottom text cat meme edit of this song, in the same vein as that one of death grips' hacker. a very good morning walk song btw, cuz even tho it would be very easy for that situation to feel trite, im like shit. mama cooked the breakfast with no hog! todays gonna be a good day. it usually isnt with where im heading on my morning walk but. eventually itll be a good day! and the iced cube told me that.
Les Os - The Unicorns: sooooo this song is extremely horny to me sorry. also very kinda toxic t4t core but thats juts meeeeeee :3... + the singers voice is very similar in register to mine when in singing so it makes it v easy to project who daid that.... uhh anywag in the ol violet amv machine (what i call my brain) i imagine the singer with the mic stand tilted back between their legs, perhaps a cheeky little leg wrap around like sexy singers tend to do, as they stare down from the stage into yuor eyes specifically. asking u directly, out of everyone. tell me bout ur love affairs.. tell me bout ur moral resignations... so then u meet after the show and [transmission lost]
LOU - whoTF (Folie & Forget Basement), Fraxiom: [transmission regained] and from the production stylings of new hyperpop ish duo whoTF comes another lyrical miracle from the mind and pen of fraxiom music!!! includes such bangers as "I’m blowing up your car/I see Mercedes boom/I’m off four drinks of alcohol/Pissing in the ladies room!" rhyming "you can watch a youtube video" with "get your fitted tutu biddie hoe" (LIKE?) and also the amazing outro from which i could just paste the whole thing but this part resonates especially "I need to become alive, in the morning, like a rooster!/Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee and foodstuffs"..."Estradiol, finasteride, adderall, and thc im juiced up!" making rooster rhyme with foodstuff and juiced up and also everything else in that part god. they dont call them fraxiom fucking music for nothing. um but also whoTF is v good, for one without frax that is still good listen to cigs up as well :3
Natural Disasters - Enon: love me a song with a strange guitar hook! ive heard this bands like top 2 songs (which include this one) bc it was just a night of spotify surfing, but those two songs are quite good. very boucy, good energy. makes me wanna do the bounce in place dance and flail my arms as i sing only the chorus and maybe try to approximate the sounds of the lyrics i dont know. sounds like a good time to me!
Overflow - Een Glish, Tyfty, Ben Glish: eek! so ai voiced songs specifically rap is very good to me. that family ties edit with spongebob and patrick is probably one of my favorite pieces of music. but this artist is v interesting to me :3 een glish is a vocaloid (? not sure if entirely correct but u get what im getting at) made from the google translate ladys voice. and its GOOD this one specifically is very catchy but she has bars too!!! check out rap game bob ross too, and also the remix with bars from SONIC HELLO? im giving this one the Sound of the Summer distinction bc not only is it a very summery jam, but it is the one im really telling u to check out if u get the chance. lots of good jams here.
Scatman - Scatman John (DJ Kadozer 2003 Remix): (why did i accidentally type out 'evil remix' at first?) sooooo i was having a bit of a scatman moment recently, as was documented in THIS other epic music post u should go check out if u havent already hihhii :3 tho she TOTALLY STOLE the one i was gonna do, Scatman's World, cuz everyone knows scatman right? skabadaba bweebopbopbadop bop? bopbop badop bop? yeah that one! but.... have u ever heard scatman. like this???? probably not... all im sayin... scat vocals/eurobeat foundation translated to this stabbing edm remix.. its quite good. good enough that the first few seconds alone get me to smile big like this :)
Shop - Toby Fox: songs to order a You. Pick. 2... to...... haha but seriously guys this ones just a really chill one :3 i can alwasy hear the you. pick. 2. part in the song bc theyre punctuated exactly the same way its kinda hell. im chillin. like usual. listenin to undertale musicand then how boutta You. Pick. 2. with some brawwwcolli cheddah. onsecond th... and then were done with that and back to the normal undertale song! like an angle in the knight.. or tiers in the reign...... here and then gone forever. truly, ephemeral..............................
The Flag Is Raised - Asian Glow: in case we couldn't drain enough this summer, asian glow put out this really neat interpretation of one of my faves off bladee and ecco2k's recent masterpiece, Crest. follows in the footsteps of many a bladee cover for me where the cover often plays over the actual song in my head. like i expect certain isntrumentation when i listen to the original that is only present in the cover but that just means theyre both good ! the guitars and the cymbals all over this make this version feel so shiny... aww and they use the little sigil ring from Crest on the cover for it too :"3
THE FLIES - Operation Sodasteal: think i mentioned this in the tags of a post that im sure uve all read before coming to class today, but ive been listening to a lot of these guys recently! just some furry emo nightcore rock that sounds plucked right out of 2007. the one vocalist, slaney(in)famous i think? im not confident which is which, has such a good voice for it too like they have all the good vocal inflections of ur typical lead pop punk vocalist, and i usually just end up singing the lyrics like them bc im just a silly little mirror huh?
This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody) - Talking Heads: ooobh i got plany off time....... yeag ive been getting down with this jam recently :3 another good morning walk tune. been trying to get into talking heads a bit more too bc every song i hear is soooo good. like i almost put the girl wants to be with the girls here bc of that OTHER meme edit i actually dont remember if it was lolcats again. it was specifically the "girls are getting into.. abstract analysis!" OHHBB it was a rose homestuck thing bc i memba her sitting at her lappytop :3 doin some fuckin abstract analysis i suppose..
Tin Man - feeble little horse: this is another single turned favorite-song-on-the-full-album-bc-i-took-too-long-making-this-list-again-lol. i love what theyre doin to these guitars maan theyre really fuckin em up in there..... also i love that this band just calls its music guitar music. its fuckin true.
Vicinity of Obscenity - System Of A Down: songs that have done irreversible damage to my psyche and syntax. i will bust out a banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie when the fuck ever just let me know the time and place my man. it is such a vocal stim for me. this whole song is honestly. some of the silliest nu metal u can get ur paws on i checked (she is lying to u again tho it is quite silly with it 😳) + had to go with the 2008 youtube editor lyric video for the youtube playlist obviously.
ahmmmmm so thanks u all once again for enjoying some more songs with me (summer edition)!!!!! <3333 see yall...... in the fall.. with some more songs hehe (or perhaps for summer......2! who knowce :3 the summers still got plany off time as some might say)
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bazzybelle · 5 months
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Get to know me (and you)
Thank you @windsweptinred for tagging me! I am sorry it took me so long to get to this.
1. 3 ships I really like right now: Ohhh this is always tough for me. I have so many ships at all times. Ok well if we're going by my current brain rot...
Dreamling: No one is surprised by this. They caught me by the throat and have not let go for the last year. It's so funny coming in as someone who was familiar with the comics before the Netflix adaptation, because they are not at all romantic. Like, I got no romantic vibes from them (and I'm someone who sees romance vibes in everything). The MOST romance I can see MAYYYYYBE (and this is a massive maybe because I only read this arc after the show aired and I was already getting into Dreamling) happens in The Wake (and I won't go into further details because those are massive spoilers). Why do I like Dreamling? They're just so feral for each other in fanon. Plus it helps that the actors on the show had incredible chemistry with each other (I would also consider HellDream and DreamMuse as other potentials because yeah he looked like he was about to make out with those two actresses).
SnowBaz: I still have so much love for SnowBaz. This was the pair that got me through a massive depression/writing slump. Seriously guys, read Wayward Son and Any Way The Wind Blows if you want an accurate representation about depression and intimacy problems and just finding yourself once that biggest event of your life is over. It's about learning to live after trauma and how to heal. Plus this was also the first CANON queer couple I read and helped me to become comfortable with my own queer identity. Yeah... I may move on and have other loves, but Simon and Baz will always hold an irreplaceable part of my heart.
Tie between Ineffable Husbands and BlackBonnet: These are two very new relationships and I just love them both so much. I don't know much about BlackBonnet, because I've only seen gifs of the second season and nothing more, but from what I've seen, omg I am so excited. As for Ineffable Husbands, they are SO interesting to me and I have been enjoying reading the Metas that have been coming out after the second season. It's so interesting to me, to connect this to SnowBaz, to see the reactions after the second season aired. It reminds me A LOT of the explosion that occurred after Wayward Son was released (an explosion that not only continued the closer we got to AWTWB being released, but also contributed to Rainbow Rowell leaving Twitter). I'm not going to get too deep into this (though @carryonsimoncarryonbaz has been trying to convince to write a meta comparing the two because MY GOD ARE THERE SO MANY CONNECTIONS).
2. First ever ship: Honestly? Sailor Mercury/That boyfriend she had... what was his name? Greg? I thought they were so flipping cute. Plus I liked that the nerdy girl had someone who thought she was cute. As the Nerdy Girl myself, it made me happy to see.
3. Last song:
Fegari - Natasa Theodoridou: One of my favourite Greek songs. I've been in a Greek music mood as of late, and this is a beautiful song. It's about a woman who prays to the moon to bring her husband back from his mistress, and to watch over him if she can't. She also asks the moon to take her from the Earth so that she may see her husband from above.
At least... that's what my husband tells me. Greek music is so morose you guys.
4. Last movie: I watched Barbie last week with my husband. We both loved it so much. It's such a great dark comedy.
5. Currently reading: Lots of fanfiction, but I recently bought a beautiful Jane Austen collection, as well as an illustrated collection of poems by Rumi, so I want to dive into those.
6. Currently watching: My husband on the couch. But in all seriousness, we're probably going to watch either Our Flag Means Death or Silo next.
7. Currently eating: Nothing, but I am craving some cereal.
8. Currently craving: xD Cereal.
Tags: @seiya-starsniper @mentallyinvernation @mallory-x @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @ninemagicks @amywaterwings @namistrella @signiorbenedickofpadua @tryan-a-bex @artsyunderstudy @yellobb @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @spockandthings @wellbelesbian @j-nipper-95 @zigzag-wanderer @fleabaggotme @arialerendeair @aristocratic-otter @messofthejess
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kadi219 · 10 months
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The #TedBecca fandom went nuclear after that ending, and I get it. I’m not going to comment on how people should feel or not, because I’ve been there.
Sweet Lords of Kobol, have I ever been there.
I have seen some shitty finales. It’s why I hate them now. I loathe final seasons, and I’ve gotten to a point where I just don’t watch a lot of television while it’s airing. I have honestly gotten to a point where if my faves made it out alive, it’s a win. Fix-it fic is a very happy place.
#TedLasso and #StarTrekPicard were the exceptions to that rule, and probably the only thing besides football that I’ve watched live in a long time.
I have shipped some ships that went straight to shit. I have shipped some ships that ended tragically (Voyager, House and Major Crimes left their mark on me, okay? And it’s deep, scarred, and I’ll never trust an EP again).
That said, with #TedLasso, I did not feel the same old trauma that I’m used to. I liked that ending. I laughed, I cried, and I thought it was great.
1. Jamie and Roy — We’ve been told since almost episode 1, Season 1, that there is no such thing as perfection and people are a work in progress. They got drunk, and like idiots, their drunken mouths and egos overloaded their good sense. The point was not their regression though. Roy acknowledges at the end of that scene that they are both “fucking idiots”, and Jamie acknowledges that. Then they go eat. I think they’re okay, as far as the friendship we saw grow. And we see Roy working on himself, both as a Diamond Dog, and in therapy. These are not perfect guys, and we were never going to see a perfect resolution to their issues, but I love how far they’ve grown…. Roy in therapy with Dr. Sharon? LOVE IT! BUT – As I said, the point of that scene is not their regression. Keeley chooses NEITHER of them. She chooses herself. I think she and Roy could end up in a place where they could get back together, but he’s got some work to do on his own, and then there’s the point of Keeley’s storyline this season (IMO), she has some work to do with being happy about who she is, in her personal life and her professional. She needs to feel secure in that, and she’s almost there. To me, the series ended with the potential of their reconciliation. There’s hope! Which has been one of the main themes of the show.
2. Beard and Jane — that chick is hella weird, and I don’t get it, but Beard does. I think the wedding part of the montage might have been a dream, because I agree – in no universe is Ted missing that. Either way, I just didn’t care about them. It doesn’t bother me.
3. Rebecca and Boat Guy — I don’t think he’s the lightning. But I think she deserves the opportunity to be with someone else post Rupert, before anything serious develops anywhere else. She hasn’t had many post-Rupert relationships. She deserves to have those, given how long she was with that asshat.
4. Ted and Michelle – Ok, this is probably going to be the controversial, unpopular opinion. Ted was always going to go back to Kansas. The entire show has been leading toward that. The question is whether he ends up staying in Kansas, or not. Ted feels, very strongly, like he needs to be with Henry. This is what he feels will make him happy, and will make Henry happy. Rebecca gave him solutions to that, and they’re great ones. He's not there yet. Here’s why: Now that Ted knows Michelle was with Dr. Asshole, but we’re given the idea she isn’t anymore (I’m going with that), Ted deserves to know how much of their marriage breaking up was truly about THEM growing apart, and how much of it was Dr. Asshole being an unethical shit. And, IMO, Michelle deserves to know that too. How much of her thinking Ted was must “too much” and pushing him away was Dr. Asshole influencing her? How much of that was this absolute Frakweasel being so unethical that, I can’t even find the words. Michelle was vulnerable, and the question is, did he use that vulnerability and her trust in him to break them up? It’s a question that needs to be answered for Ted and Michelle, before either of them can move on, and it needs to be answered for Henry too. What I think, honestly, that they would find is that they really did grow apart. I think that it would make them better co-parents. They are still family, there is no reason they cannot be amicable in their split & their joint custody of Henry. I also feel, very strongly, that neither of them is going to be comfortable with the other moving on, or with themselves moving on, until they know the answers to those very big questions. I also think, ultimately, in my damaged, scarred, very traumatized shipper heart, that this will lead Ted back to Rebecca, and to a place where the two of them, Ted and Michelle, could have that conversation about her and Henry making the move to England.
So really, for TedBecca to happen, Ted had to go home.
I also think, for Ted to truly be happy, he had to go back. Not that being in Kansas is what will make him truly happy – but what will make him feel strong in himself, as a person, and a father, and a friend. There are so many unresolved issues for him in Kansas, that, I agree – in that final scene he doesn’t look totally happy with his choice. He didn’t WANT to leave the people he loves in England behind. He’s going to miss them. He felt like he needed to. But to me he looked content in where his choice could take him. There was hope there.
There was hope there for all our characters to get the futures they deserve. That’s the kind of finale I can live with. That’s why I loved it.
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latibvles · 1 year
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SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.
beautiful, tragic // sink or swim.
all you can do is try to know who your friends are, as you head off to the war.
masterlist | gallery | taglist
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TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs , @monalisastwin , @mads-weasley , @eugene-emt-roe
SUMMARY: Daisy begins to sink — and she's decided to do so alone.
WARNINGS: heavy discussions of grief-induced depression & the intense emotions associated with grief.
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To Mrs. Irene Clarke,
It is with a heavy heart and with deep regret that I must inform you that your son, Corporal James W. Clarke, has been killed in action while defending the good name and morals of the United States of America on February 19th, 1945.
Your family must be going through a range of emotions right now, from anger to devastation to pride. Knowing that your son passed while serving his country hopefully brings you a small piece of comfort in this difficult time. James was incredibly proud of his country, and he spoke highly of his work every day. He made many strong friendships during his service, and he will be remembered for his kindness and strength.
It is never easy losing a child, and we send our sincerest condolences.
She couldn’t finish reading it. She feels like she can’t breathe. Ron puts down the letter and looks at her.
He says nothing. His arms wrap around her and she clings onto him. It’s like her voice is shot. Daisy can’t scream, or cry out, not like she wants to. But she’s crying. She knows she’s crying because her cheeks are wet and her vision’s blurry and Ron’s shirt is wet with her tears. Her throat hurts, and every time she shuts her eyes she sees that cold, lifeless, typewriter print and its empty condolences. Her head is pounding.
It takes a moment for her to register the sound of a sniffle, the muttered swear, and the familiar tremble of Ron’s body — only slightly different from his drunken weeping the night before. His fingers are digging into her, like she might slip away from him otherwise.
Daisy just holds him tighter.
It doesn’t feel real. She can’t even… envision it. She’s seen so many soldiers die, so many be blown up by mortars or crushed by debris or shot full of holes. She’s watched her own friends get limbs blown off, succumbing in one way or another to bitter cold or bullets or some other unfortunate circumstance. But she can’t see it. She can’t see James among them. Maybe if she could, she would know how to deal with it. If she could, it wouldn’t be eating her alive, swallowing her whole, drowning her.
Her arms drop, she untangles herself from Ron, wipes her eyes.
“I need- I… I need…” she takes a measured breath and sniffles, pulling herself up to her feet and grabbing the letter. He rises, as she wipes her nose and her eyes. “I need to see Jane I didn’t- she doesn’t know I was… here… so-”
“Daisy-”
“Please, Ron.” She’s never felt this desperate before. I’m drowning. But we can’t both drown. Let me go. He reaches forward, cupping her cheek and wiping her tears with his thumb. She can hardly breathe under the weight of it. She might burst into tears and fall to her knees all over again.
He says nothing. He kisses her forehead. She chokes back another sob.
“Do you want me to walk you back?” And she shakes her head, and pulls away, walking towards the tent’s opening and trying to steel her features. For the first time in a long time, she isn’t even sure how effective her own attempts are.
“I’ll… see you, Ron,” she mutters meekly, scurrying out before he can make another attempt to stop her.
She keeps her head down in a way she isn’t used to. The sun is less welcome, now that it comes with the fact that anyone who passes can see her red eyes and her flushed face. She finds her tent, walks inside wordlessly. Jane isn’t there, which is fine. She falls onto the cot without another word, pulling her knees into her chest, staring at the wall. Her heart still pounds in her ears, her chest still aches, and everything just feels like too much. The fabric beneath her, the quiet, the light breaking in from outside. It’s too much. It isn’t enough. She wants to be alone but she wants to be held. She wants to eat but she wants to vomit.
Daisy just wants her brother, but that isn’t even an option anymore.
So she just cries, until the pillow’s wet with her tears and until she’s gasping for breath and lets herself succumb, lets her head sink under, until she’s so tired that all she can do is stare. She hears the flap of the tent open, doesn’t make a move to look and see who it is.
“Can you just give me a second? Christ. Be patient.” She recognizes Jane’s voice, and while the words don’t register, she knows the voice belongs to Talbert. There’s a pause, a heavy silence, and then some shuffling.
Jane lays a blanket over her, folding the sheet so it doesn’t cover her head, but covers the rest of her. A bit more shuffling, and then she leaves.
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It’s harder to pull herself out of bed, in the later days.
Daisy doesn’t go out anymore. She heads straight to bed most nights, and on the ones where Jane is there before her, they don’t… talk. She wakes up some days with a wet pillowcase. If she’s sobbing in her sleep, Jane hasn’t said anything about it. On the nights where she dreams, James is there, smiling and whole and alive, with a familiar redhead on his arm. Sometimes she’s pregnant. Sometimes it’s a wedding. Everytime, she wakes up with wet cheeks and a stuffy nose. The letters remain folded on her pillow by her head. She can’t bring herself to read the second one.
She knows it has to be from her mother. She knows the handwriting well.
And she can envision it clearly. Her mother, begging her to come home. How they need her there, how they can’t lose both a daughter and a son in the same year. Come home, we need you. Come home, we miss you. Come home, I’m scared. And it isn’t even that she doesn’t want to come home. She knows that if she reads it, if she’s granted that permission — she’d beg on her hands and knees. Put her down as combat fatigue, pregnancy, a casualty, it didn’t matter. Just get her home.
It’s all just too much. She’s never flinched away from touch before, never failed to return a smile. Hands feel too heavy on her shoulders and smiling feels like lifting a weight she doesn’t know how to carry quite yet.
She needs someone older, wiser, who can show her how to carry it.
When was the last time she’d lost someone in her family? It had to have been Grandma Beth. She wasn’t very old at the time. She was four, James was five, they held hands because her mother’s were occupied with tissues, holding them to her nose. They were too little to understand, so they giggled at the honking noise her nose made. They played tag with their cousins outside the funeral home. They went back to the old house for lunch. She slept on her brother’s shoulder in the car on the way home.
“Daisy? Daisy!” she’s pulled from her thoughts by Ginny staring at her across the table. She blinks, staring at Ginny blankly. The latter frowns, reaching for her hand. She retracts her hand in response, and the blonde frowns. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” She can’t deny it, so she says nothing, looking around the empty mess. When was it empty? Ginny sighs. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m just tired.” she offers, in lieu of unpacking everything right here. My brother died weeks ago, and I’m only learning about it now. My brother’s been dead for weeks and I still can’t wrap my head around it. My brother died weeks ago and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to grieve this or where to start and part of me just wants to go home. Ginny narrows her eyes at him.
“You know, your business is your business. But it’s really hard for me to mind my own when everyone that matters is worrying about you,” she looks past Daisy, towards the door, before back to her. “You think I don’t notice these things, Dais? You barely eat, you’re not… around and when you are you’re hardly there. Ron says you haven’t even talked to him in days,” Daisy reaches up to rub her mouth, eyes downcast. Ginny leans forward a bit towards her. “I don’t care what you say to anybody else but that isn’t gonna work with me.”
“Can we walk and talk, please?”
Ginny frowns, but stands, offering a hand to her that she doesn’t take, and they walk out the door. Daisy picks at her nails, it feels like someone’s pulled out her tongue and rendered her mute.
“Well, we’re walking.” Ginny remarks, and there’s no venom to it, but there is a tentative concern. No matter how many times she says it, or thinks it, it doesn’t feel real. She breathes slowly, swallows and runs her tongue over the back of her teeth as though to ensure her mouth still works like it's supposed to. She can’t look her in the eye like she should.
“I…” This should be easy. It’s Ginny, for Christ’s sake. But saying it is still so hard. She wants to deny it, vehemently, everytime she says it. Like his letter will come in the mail boasting about his achievements and complaining about the little things — like the taste of the food or the all-consuming heat.
She feels Ginny reach out to take her hand, squeeze it and hold onto it.
“Talk to me.” Daisy swallows the lump forming in her throat, forcing herself to look away.
“What if I got sent home?” she asks, feeling Ginny’s hand tighten in hers as they stop walking.
“Daisy, are you…” Ginny leans forward, to keep her voice down. “Are you pregnant? Are you scared to tell him? Is that it?” In another situation Daisy might’ve laughed at that, or even blushed at the very idea. But she’s too tired for that, so she just shakes her head, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment and hoping she doesn’t spill out onto the beaten path.
“No, I’m not,” Daisy refutes. “It’s… my brother, he…” And again, Ginny squeezes her hand, tightening. Daisy knows she’s likely connecting the dots. “I found out four days ago.”
“Christ Daisy I’m so sorry I—”
“Don’t apologize,” Daisy turns her head to look at her now. “Ron’s the only one who knows, I didn’t- I didn’t say anything I just-,” she reaches up to rub at her face again, blinking away tears before they can fall down her cheeks again. “I’m so tired, Ginny. And I- I know I should be talking about it and dealing with it but it’s… talking and dealing are too much and I just want to sink but I can’t let you, or Ron or anybody do that with me.” There’s a part of her that wants to reach out and fall into Ginny’s embrace like they’ve done for one another so many times before — and a part of her that knows that even that is too much for her to handle.
There’s a heavy silence between then for a moment — thick enough to cut through. Ginny sighs, then gives her that furrowed brow look again. She feels like she’s being analyzed, watching as Ginny’s eyes flit over her face.
“Do you want to be sent home?” She almost wants to laugh at how they’re talking about it, like it’s as simple as just packing a bag and going.
“I don’t know, I just… I don’t know what to do with all this and I know my parents want me home too.”
“Did they say that?”
“I think anyone who loses a kid would want the other kid home for the goddamn funeral.” It comes out sharp and clipped — bordering on a snap. No, she almost immediately corrects herself, it is a snap. Daisy regrets the way she says it the moment it leaves her mouth. Ginny presses her lips into a line. For a second, Daisy thinks she might snap back at her. She doesn’t.
“I think it’s something you think about,” Ginny releases her hand, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her own ear. “And if you think about it and it’s what you want then maybe we can work something out. But I can’t promise anything.” Ginny looks over her one last time, reaching over to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. There’s more that she wants to say — Daisy can tell, but she’s biting her tongue, leaving her with that nonverbal goodbye.
She wants to apologize, but Ginny’s too quick and the words don’t form fast enough.
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dirtyvulture · 4 months
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😎 I have been listening to a lot of songs ( Let me know if you want a full song analysis in regards to Wolvie R) and so many of them just screamed Wolverine R . They were “ Daylight” “ Dead Man” both by David Kushner and “DNA” by Lila Marie Johnson . Now the last song I haven’t listened to in full but there is a distinct part that just screams our dear Wolvie . It’s called “ Northern Attitude” by Noah Kahan Ft Hozier .
There is the long awaited reaction from the Hudson family members who found Esther’s secret box . Jane and Rose Hudson ( they could be sisters or cousins that is your choice but I think that they are close in terms of age and relationship) were probably up in the attic looking at and through all the old stuff and boxes until they both stumbled across one odd one that they had never seen before ( they are both in their early twenties but they grow up looking at all of the past Hudson clan things as Hudson children do. The box was of a decent size and was once a brilliant Red now dulled by age and collecting dust while gorgeous intricate detailing designs and on the lid was engraved with EVH ( Esther Victoria Hudson) . Now Jane and Rose are digging through everything and at one point Rose just shots “ I KNEW IT …. I FUCKING KNEW IT !!!!!! Great Grandma ( or adjusted accordingly to how many greats it is) Esther was FUCKING FRUITY and was in love with Wolvie !!!!!!! God damn …… wait a second . Hey Jeff around up all the cousins and siblings and fuck it around every body up the betting pool is FINALLY RESOLVED and Janey and I FUCKING WON !!!!!!!” Jane digs deeper and finds Esther’s ✨ fantasies ✨ and was blushing profusely ( this is why I had them be both in their twenties, didn’t want anyone under eighteen to see that) but then notice the evidence that this was Esther expressing emotions but not that They( Esther and R ) were in a relationship. It hits Jane Hudson that it was a one sided love affair and those writings , letters/ Notes were just fantasy ( well as far as Jane / the other Hudsons know) and then called after Rose Hudson “ Rosie they weren’t together!!!!! It was just Esther exploring and releasing her own romantic feelings but to Wolvie they were just best friends!!!!!!” Then Jane hears a chorus of Rose Hudson and all the other Hudsons that won the betting pool “ GODDAMN IT !!!!!!!” “ No !!!!!!” “ They would have been so cute together” “ Wolverine deserved her more than Great grandpa Will ( his name was William) !!!!!” And lastly 🎶“ History Hates Lovers” 🎶
I would imagine that some time later on that Esther’s writings / letters/ notes/ her ✨fantasies ✨ were made into a period piece novel or some other story that is super popular ( one that storm , Jean and all the other girls or students of the school just eat up and swoon for . With out knowing it is about Wolverine, but R feels a a strange sense of  déjà vu ( Esther had put in WORD FOR WORD CONVERSATIONS and other interactions that Esther and R had . She also had the Chirstmas Truce of 1914 written down where they danced , R sang her heart out and Esther being so drunk but R took care of her tucking her into bed and they cuddled to sleep that night) .
Ok so I maybe I conveyed or worded something wrong because I read your reply Vulture and you seem to be under the impression that I believed that R was just looking at Nat with lust or thought that she was an object. That is not the case at all and I would never besmirch R’s honorable name to suggest that and I love Natty too much to ever do that to her. R be a player or compulsively brings people into bed but R is NOT A ✨FUCK BOI✨, she is a gentleman Casanova who  respects the people she is with and just respects ( she has no respect for people who harm anything that is defenseless or people who views others as objects or tools rather than people) people in general. I agree that R did genuinely want to help Nat and all the other great points that you Vulture brought up. What I was trying to get at was when R realized that the warmth and feelings in her chest and body wasn’t just her usual protectiveness or sense of duty to help and it’s not the same feelings she gets from watching over and looking after children ( or the feelings she has for her own child Rogue) . The first thing she thought of was it was lust or physical attraction ( R wouldn’t have acted on it because she knows Nat is EXTREMELY VULNERABLE right now and she would never take advantage of that ) because I mean Nat is a very beautiful person but then R realizes that it goes deeper.
Now Listen to Daylight and that is R’s ( Young R when her mutation activated and she is in the church covered in dried blood praying and begging for mercy and forgiveness, when she was in the church after hearing the news of Esther’s death still covered in dried blood and everything in between) feelings of her self , her mutation , her supposed “ sins” but also her talking to Nat . I can do a whole ass analysis but I will stop right now because if I don’t this will run off on me .
Listen to Dead Man and that is R telling of how she has been here before ( “ dying” in battles and wars over and over again) and how there is beauty hidden in the gore ( life and love and good people amongst the horrors ,  atrocities , bloodshed of war) . She is also talking to the people behind her witch hunts and attempt executions  . At one particular moment of “ I screamed as your smile was growing wider” could be she was burning at the stake and she saw them smiling wider or because Vulture teased Sabertooth or a sabertooth counterpart ( will it be a male or female version) and we all know what Sabertooth did to Wolvie’s love ( or what Wolverine THOUGHT was done) . So what if Sabertooth had caused R’s old friend’s death ( they actually did it because A) I think our Wolvie would be smarter and figured out it was a ruse where her male counterpart didn’t and B) I don’t think Wolvie’s old friend would actually do her dirty like that and betray her .) and R screams as Sabertooth smiles wider from where ever they were at. Possibly both because I fully believe that R was burned at the stake in one of her witch hunts/ “ trails” . The line “ Do you remember September ?” Could have been Sabertooth taunting and asking because that is the month the old friend died / when they had killed the old friend or this could be R asking herself because that was the month that activated her mutation and all that went with it. The line of “ Wait on” and “ Give me back my old salvation” R is asking ….. begging for her angels back , her salvation in this purgatory of existence. Esther Hudson and Old Friend as well as all the people who R cared about.
DNA isn’t a exact match but this is R talking to / about, arguing and fighting with Thomas Logan or rather the memory of him . Making sure she isn’t like him and her being so afraid that she is going to turn into to him when she “ Erupts” just like he did and that people will look at her like she looked at him ( when he was being a violent drunk before and how she looked at him before the RAGE and Mutation took over THAT NIGHT…… in absolute horror and fear). You see while she mostly looked like her mother Elizabeth ( Elizabeth sure got lucky with her affair love child being a daughter that looked like her and that both John and Thomas had matching figures in the parts that R didn’t get from Elizabeth like the color of R’s eyes. That way Elizabeth had no explanations that needed to be made. ) but R had her father’s eyes and while she thought they were John’s she loved them but now she can’t even look at them. Because all she can see is that night and looking at Thomas after he had murdered John , “ Eyes like yours can’t look away” . That night was “ Dark as Midnight” and it was “ Past my Bedtime” , it was a pitch black night of the new moon and it was overcasted so the was no stars. So it was even darker but Because of R’s mutation and newly heightened senses she was able to get around. It was also very late and R was asleep when Thomas broke in, that and yell the yelling woke her up and as she was getting up that is when the gun shot rang out. R has constantly been shakily asking if the pieces of Thomas Logan are in the pieces of her but deep down she is afraid that she already knows that answer and that answer being yes there are. Thomas was a drunk and had violent temper and disposition he also smoked and he hurt people . R’s coping mechanism is drinking ( I don’t know if R is an alcoholic or could be addicted to substances because of her healing powers affect every part of her but addiction well not completely a hereditary condition it can be made so a person is genetically susceptible or have a genetic disposition to become a addict ) and She smokes and she also hurts people ( she hurts bad people who do bad things and also protects people but she isn’t seeing that). She has this constant RAGE inside of her and is always begging to be unleashed and she has done far …. far worse things than Thomas Logan has done and that fear that she has of being just like him when she erupts just like he did already happened and people already looked/ looks at her like she looked at him. It’s like Thomas is standing there hovering over her as it’s sinking in as she says while his  condescending voice echoes “ But you can’t stop DNA , no you can’t stop DNA” . After all R isn’t John Howlett’s angel , she is the groundskeeper’s bastard fallen .
The whole song is a huge internal struggle and fight for R .
Lastly the small bit of “ Northern Attitude” that just screams Wolverine R . “ If you too close and i am not how you hoped , oh forgive my Northern Attitude I was out in the cold . And if the Sun don’t shine till the summertime forgive my Northern Attitude I was rise on little light .” It’s obvious that R is Canadian so “ Northern Attitude” and “ Rise out in the cold and If the sun don’t shine until the summer time , being rise on little light” is very very obvious. Plus R is afraid but letting people too close and not being how they hoped, that if she wasn’t what they wanted they will leave. Like her mother forced R to go. But I think that it’s more to that , maybe the men in the First World War had made a comment about R and her “ Northern Attitudes and How the sun doesn’t shine till the summer time ” to describe she cold and distant attitudes to people and how she isn’t bright / bubbly enough and she only marginally gets warmer and happier is when she is tending to children or local communities .
So when Esther was trying to befriend R and R was trying to convince her that she is dangerous and unworthy of love like you said vulture( just lashing out like a wild animal really but with out actually hurting anyone or being problematic) R sarcastically said while rolling her eyes “ If you get to close and I am not how you hoped , OooHhh forgive my NORTHERN ATTITUDE , I was Rise OUT in the COLD. And if the SUN Don’t shine Till the SUMMER TIME , OooooHhhhh forgive my NORTHERN Attitude I was RISE On LITTLE LIGHT.” But then as time passes and Esther Hudson broke down R Mannnnny walls and was starting to be let in . On day R stood before her with shaking hands out stretch and reaching for Esther as she shakily saying with her voice breaking “ If you get to close …… and I am NOT how you HOPED , forgive my northern attitude I was rise out in the cold. And if the SUN DON’T Shine till the summer time oh forgive my northern attitude I was rise on little light.”
This time it means if R lets Esther in but she isn’t what Esther wanted or hoped R is essentially begging her not to abandon her and she was explaining why she is cold and not always able to do or say the right things and why she isn’t good with people. She was rise without people caring about and for her , that she rise herself. R is also explaining why she isn’t exactly a outwardly happy and bubbly person and shows a lot of a emotion and that is because she never had a safe place to feel ANY TYPE of emotions good or bad . Even Before R was finish saying “ If you get too close and I am not how you hoped” Esther had pulled her in a close and tight hug and R buried her face into Esther’s neck and shoulder.
In the beginning when Esther hug R she would roll her eyes and eventually tap Esther’s arm three times to be get go off but when Esther hugged and held R during this R tensed up but then relaxed and totally collapsed in Esther’s arms after speaking and was sobbing . That night Esther tucked her into bed and held her to sleep . After that R was more welcoming to her touches.
Well I had more thoughts but that is for next time and I hope I cleared up that misunderstanding Vulture. Also I know I was going to wait on you before doing a full song analysis but it turn to that anyways 😅😅😅 my bad sorry .
Ooo and now we get some song recs now 🥰 You really are going all out for me anon, and I am enjoying it
I wonder why no one had found the box in the attic before. I love how they just got the entire family around to read Esther's private thoughts about R lmao.
I bet Storm has tried getting R to read the books, and even though R doesn't really remember Esther as much because of the amnesia, she definitely has a weird feeling that the inspiration of the story hits too close to home.
I did not mean to offend you anon, I think I was just trying to make a general point but my apologies if I seemed I interpreted it a different way. And I know what you mean now! You'll get to see more of their relationship blooming in the next part(s), don't worry. :)
Honestly, I never even considered a gender swapped Sabertooth. 👀 If I ever decided to introduce the character, that might create an interesting dynamic with Wolvie!R, but we'll see. I always saw Sabertooth as just an extremely unhinged, wildly feral version of Wolvie (a.k.a. how Wolverine would have been had he not learned to live in a normal human society and gave in to his instincts), so that could open up a lot of opportunities for new plots.
I think R can be considered an alcoholic even though it takes an extreme amount for her to become intoxicated. But like you said, it's definitely a coping mechanism, along with the smoking, because along with the decades of mental trauma, she still feels physical pain like any normal human and even though she heals very fast, the phantom pain can still bother her for weeks or even months.
It's also probably good that R hardly remembers her childhood because man it is rough lol.
Thank you for all the thoughts and even including some songs with excellent analysis! You've really kept this blog alive while I try to finish the rest of the series, but I promise it will be worth the wait!
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jvstheworld · 4 months
Text
My Ted Lasso Re-watch: S2E2
Lavender
Oh Jamie, going from reality TV, to talk show and looking like a muppet. Also, the bit with Phil and Holly has not aged well with ermmm... Recent discoveries behind the scenes. Not of Ted Lasso, of the talk show This Morning.
Man City doesn't want Jamie. But he still has support of fans, that's good. We do eventually find out why he left Man City.
Beard and Jane are not a good or healthy couple. They should not be together. Beard deserves better but the thinks that's what he deserves.
Nate micromanaging Will. He's just doing his job, and doing it well. Leave the poor guy alone.
Aww, Will has a girlfriend. Good for him.
Roy cares about his new team. Especially Kokoruda and Phoebe. Too bad he wants nothing to do with Richmond.
Keeley knows what she likes in a man and isn't afraid to express it. Go Keeley.
Ted riding the lawn mower, what a dork.
Ted is hurt about Dr Sharon staying for the season because he still doesn't trust her. Even though it's good for the team and later him. She does have a cool bike though.
Ted is confusing. He wants to be included about decisions for the team but wants Higgins to make his own mind up about things. It was Higgins's idea to bring Dr Sharon in and since he is director of football operations (what does that even mean)? He should get a say in what is best for the team. And Dr Sharon is what is best for them.
Nate is still too quick to complain about Will. I will say, personally I find lavender to be kind of horrible to smell.
No one wants Jamie. Because he shows no loyalty to anyone. And clubs and the public have seen that. They don't wasn't to sign him for something if he's just going to jump ship when he gets bored.
Ted bursting though doors is everything to me. I love that manic pixie dream boy. But yeah, don't barge into a therapist's office.
Sudeikis does actually play video games in real life, because they are fun. If something is taking over your life you should change your habits to prevent it from taking up most of your waking hours. This only applies to non-addictive things. You don't want to deprive yourself of enjoyment because that will make you miserable, but just adjust how you view that relationship you have with it. It's why some people struggle with dieting. Because they try to eliminate the things that are 'bad' for them, instead of accepting that they can be part of their diet but not a major part of it.
Ted is very disarming. He wants to know everything he can about a person straight away. But Dr Sharon sees through it.
Keeley mentioning Dubai Air, for the campaign that Sam will be a part of next episode.
Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. I have watched too much Supernatural to have gotten that joke before Ted did. Plant and Page were Sam and Dean's most used aliases. You are off your game here Ted, Dr Sharon really must have you rattled.
'What a fucking arsehole' is back again, because Dr Sharon doesn't eat sugar. I'm going to have to keep track of how many times it's said in the show.
As much as Rebecca might know what her problems are, she still show see a therapist because they would have knowledge and the capabilities to help her move on from her relationship with Rupert. She manages on her own well enough, but there are still things that might need addressing. And Ted, he works out that he needs help eventually. Friends aren't your therapists, they can only do so much to help. If you need help, see a professional, your friends are your support network to help keep you in the right path to getting to a healthier emotional state. You're not burdening people by sharing your problems, but they might not always be able to help you in the way you need, that's where professionals come in. Spoken as someone trying to get that help now.
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inlocusmads · 5 months
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14. What are you going to spend money on next?
70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?
80. Hot tea or cold tea?
for your mc and li thank you for answering!!!
Hiya anon! Thanks so much for sending me an ask!
> make me admit stuff
14. What are you going to spend your money on next?
Nora: A table. I have browsed a lot of IKEA catalogues for a nice, simple wooden table. I just have a lot of stuff and it's hard to put them anywhere.
Trystan: Books.
Nora: You don't need the first edition Jane Austen. eBay is scamming you.
Trystan: But the cover is so gorgeous, Nora, you must see it! I think I will also spend my money on some porcelain cutlery.
Nora: That you'll never end up using and eat out of the same plate over and over again?
Trystan: (a little insulted) It will be buried with me. Like the Egyptian kings.
Nora: Ah yes. They'll find thirteen dollar family plate sets in your tomb.
Trystan: Some of them have gold linings too!
Nora: (teasingly) Would you put a curse on them?
Trystan: I do not like this questionnaire anymore.
70. Is there a profession you picture(d) your future spouse doing?
Trystan: A pirate or a nice, swashbuckling captain.
Nora: Really?
Trystan: I had a thing for pirates back then. You?
Nora: I never really pictured my future partner much less what they do. But I think younger me would have liked a cheerleader of sorts..? I played soccer as a kid and for a while I thought that would be my career.
Trystan: And look where it brought us.
Nora: I am not a pirate though. Just some boring.. person or something, I dunno-
Trystan: I am happy. I do not have to get scurvy on the high seas. And ye' are far from boring, lass.
Nora: Do not talk to him on the 19th of September. Doesn't matter if he's dead or alive.
80. Hot tea or cold tea?
Nora: I think hot tea. I'm Chinese. Hot tea is a staple with meals.
Trystan: I prefer all kinds of teas, really but nothing can beat a lukewarm tea. Drakovia has many tea traditions too. Did you know we infuse tea with brandy? It is perfect for the cold winter. It gets very cold there.
Nora: Damn!
Trystan: Plum brandy. Sugar. Honey. Some herbs and spices, preferably the aromatic ones. I prefer a gingery kick. It reminds me of home -- at least the good parts.
Nora: Ginger is pretty common here too. I like to make my tea with a mortar and pestle. You can really grind it up with pure muscle.
Trystan: I have never seen you do it.
Nora: It was a long time ago. You weren't there. I think I was in the NYPD then.
Trystan: You still drink those boxed, bagged teas, no? Your culture pioneered tea. You are disappointing your ancestors, Nora. Tch.
Nora: C'mon, they're convenient. Sue me.
Trystan: Grandpa definitely will.
Nora: I think coffee is nicer though. Tea is too mild. Not strong enough.
Trystan: Addiction is real, children.
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ellayuki · 2 years
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08082022 - Thor: Love and Thunder
waiting is a harsh endeavour (made easier with company)
~
Jane is in Valhalla exactly three days before she runs into the last person she’d thought she’d see there. 
She’s met Thor’s friends she learns he lost to his sister, Hela, and Heimdall has brought her before Odin and Frigga (and Frigga’s hug had been nearly bone-crushing), and slowly, she’s been settling in into an afterlife she’s never expected, wondering about the day (and dreading it, too, for what it would mean) when Thor would arrive.
She meets his brother first, though.
And really, Jane hasn’t seen nor thought of Loki since the whole thing with the Aether, had known him to be dead and gone, lost to the harsh terrains of Svartalfheim.
It never occurred to her that he’d be in Valhalla, too, though he did die in battle. 
“Jane Foster,” he greets her, and Jane has to blink in confusion. He looks… he sounds, he even feels different, than she remembers. Gone are the dark circles beneath his eyes, gone is the perpetual grimace on his face. Loki looks rested, at peace, though there’s something like sadness behind his eyes, something like longing. Something Jane recognizes because she feels it just as keenly.
“Loki,” she nods, because there’s no point to past animosities here. And he did kind of save her life once. So. 
They go for drinks, because what else is there to do but eat and drink and reminisce and make merry in this place? 
~
“I didn’t expect to see you here, honestly,” she says after the second tankard of ale.
“Whereas I always thought you’d end up exactly here, whether by your own strength or my brother’s bullheadedness,” Loki says, head leaning on his fist, elbow propped lazily on the edge of the table.
~
“I heard you dumped him,” he says, looking up at the starry sky. 
Jane doesn’t know what he sees, but she knows who he wishes he could see. “It was… complicated.”
He hums at that.
~
“He mourns you, you know,” she whispers it like a secret that isn’t really hers to tell. But then, Thor’s always been both hers and his, she thinks. She knows he mourns them both now.
Loki huffs, something rueful and heartbreaking to hear. “He’s always been sentimental like that.” He shakes his head, takes another drink. Jane pretends she doesn’t see the way he bites his lip. 
~
“I do miss him.”
“I know. I miss him, too.”
“Though I don’t want him coming here anytime soon.”
“Yeah, no, me neither. He still has a life to live. Things to do.”
“Mn.”
~
It's centuries before Thor's long-awaited arrival in Valhalla, though maybe not as many as Jane thought would pass. His face when he sees both her and his brother there to greet him, though, is more than enough to set her soul at ease.
"Hey," she says with a smile at the same time Loki says a soft, "Hello, brother."
Thor tackles them both to the ground, sobbing on them and laughing, and Jane thinks, Finally.
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