#not to mention the trending page being so broken

[ellemfaoh]

Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 1 | Vance Hopper x Reader

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word Count: 2.9k

Categories: Enemies to Lovers (eventually lol), Rivalry, Angst, Fluff, mentions of past Bruce X Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Mentions of Blood, Fighting, Female Reader implied

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You both end up getting detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: let’s pretend the grabber decided to start grabbing like a year or two later or smth cuz high schooler Vance and Bruce seems more plausible to me personally

A/N 2.0: Please excuse weird formatting like spaces behind paragraphs n shit. I wrote this on docs because my personal laptop is broken and my school laptops block tumblr—so all this uploading is done from my phone lol

——————————————

You never figured that walking into the Grab ‘N Go on a hot Denver summer day would have catalyzed as big a domino effect on your life as it did—and yet it did.

It was the middle of a Denver summer in 1977, the year before high school; and everyone was dealing with a week hotter than satan’s armpit. Most kids were either in their houses with the AC on full blast, in stores and the local theater, or away to go to the beach with their family. It explains why the town was just a little more empty this week. Both of your parents worked full-time jobs down in the city around an hour away, so you were confined to either your house or local entertainment attractions—the same ones you had been using since you could open your eyes. It was kind of old by the time you were twelve and stuck in your small town for yet another summer.

You were currently situated on your bed, reading last week’s edition of the Teen Beat magazine, flipping through the pages of celebrity interviews, dating tips, and latest fashion trends—which eventually got old, especially considering this was last week’s magazine. You checked the time. 12:53 PM. Probably the hottest part of the day. You only lived three blocks from the Grab N’ Go though, so if you biked or just walked quickly you probably wouldn’t get heatstroke just from being outside.

“Ugh.” You groaned, peeling yourself from the comforts of your bed. You had to change. “All of this for a magazine and some cola.” You muttered to yourself, sliding on the nearest (and hopefully clean) pair of jean shorts and exchanging your spaghetti strap pajama top for a plain white tee.

Getting out of your room and down the hall, you picked up the shoes you kicked off in the hallway yesterday and slipped them on, grabbing the $5 bill your parents left on the counter for you to order lunch with—which you were deciding to use for snacks. Maybe you’d pick up a small lunch thing on the way home. The money’s use was ‘to be determined,’ you decided.

Leaving your house and out into the Denver summer air, any amount of chill you felt on yourself before was wiped away completely. You needed to make this trip quick. What was a little jog compared to the instant relief of the too-cold Grab N’ Go?

Walking into the small convenience store was instant relief. Not too many people were around—and those that were wouldn’t bother you, the lady at the counter looked less bothered too, which was surprising since Vance Hopper was stationed at the pinball machine as per usual. Maybe it was because no one who would piss him off was there. Then again, anyone who bothers Vance must have a death wish.

Grabbing a soda and the new edition of Teen Beat, you walked over to the counter and slid the money over, opening the drink and quenching your thirst for a cold drink. Taking the return cash the lady gave you, you walked over to the exit, flipping through some pages absentmindedly. It was this exact moment where life seemed to have changed forever. An excited kid—probably an elementary schooler if you had to guess, ran into your arm, causing your soda to splash out of the bottle. You definitely had a death wish now, because your soda got all over Vance Hopper; the sugary drink now in his hair and on his back.

When the losing chime of the pinball sounded around the store and the blonde went still, the air in the mart tensed. Everyone was waiting. Watching. You didn’t bother to wait either, quickly speeding out of the store. Maybe he wouldn’t remember your face. You had never really talked with him before, the most you had done was look at him a few times in classes you had previously shared.

You had drank a little more soda and tossed it in the nearest trash. Sure you were running away from what was probably certain death, but you already bought the soda. Might as well finish what’s left before running away. You rolled up your magazine and tucked it into a pocket before moving into a slight jog to go back home. Or maybe you should go get something from a restaurant. Usually when you commit an unsaid crime hiding in unexpected places could benefit. You barely made it a block away before you heard Vance shout at you, his footsteps getting increasingly louder.

“Hey dumb shit! You just got your soda shit all over me!”

You sped up, breaking into a run and not responding to him. If you made it home in time then maybe he’d leave you alone. But what about school? You’d have to change your name and face and move across the country.

“I’m going to kill you!” Now he was running after you. He wasn’t unused to running after kids who fucked with him, so he was pretty used to this kinda thing. And he was fast at it too. “Gotcha!”

You yelped when you were grabbed and thrown down onto the grass next to the sidewalk. At least you were next to a park. Maybe God would be a little more merciful today, considering you could’ve been thrown onto the pavement. You really hoped that the next thing that would happen would be you getting saved right before he starts beating your head into the ground. You really didn’t feel like going to the ER today, and your mom would be pissed about how you knew you shouldn’t start shit with ‘Vance fucking Hopper.’ Your dad would probably beat you for a second time over the medical bills.

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You pleaded, choosing to explain yourself as he straddled your waist, keeping you in place between his legs as he grabbed at your shirt collar. Maybe he’d punch you softer? “Some kid ran into my arm! I promise I’d never bother you ever, Hopper!”

Vance just started down at you, fist by his side, assessing your words. “Huh.” He said, letting your shirt go as your upper body fell to the ground. Now you were winded. Better than the alternative. “Guess I’ll just get a similar payback then.”

You watched in horror as he pulled out a pocket knife. What was he gonna do? Carve his name into you? Cut up your face? Oh god, he was gonna murder you. With a not-so-gentle hand, the blonde boy pulled your hair, hands threaded firmly in your locks. “What…?”

Vance cut off a good length of your hair, and you watched in horror (as best you could) at the hack job. What previously used to be your clean-cut hair was now resting on the floor or cut in the most uneven way possible. Maybe a bright side would be the fact you had the layers all of your hairstylists could never give you. After he was finished, he stood up and looked at the hair in his fist while you sat there crying. “Now we’re even.” He said, tossing the rest of your hair into the grass next to you.

That was the start of your burning hatred for Vance Hopper.

——————————————

High School had finally started a few weeks after your and Vance’s incident. At least your hair could grow into its new form for a little bit. To say your mom was angry when she came home that night to find your hair hacked up was an understatement. She was livid—ranting about, ‘how could you let this happen?!’ And, ‘We need to schedule you an appointment with Shelly immediately.’ You had to hand it to your mom and Shelly though; cuz they got your hair not looking as horrible as it did. Hell, they even kept the layers, which was actually really nice. As you walked through the halls, you could tell there were a few people talking about your hair. It made sense though, considering you ended school with longer hair.

You walked up to your friend, Bruce Yamada, leaning against his neighboring locker as you let out a quiet groan of exhaustion and annoyance. He just chuckled and closed his locker, slinging his bag over his shoulder and gave you a light punch in the shoulder. “Spur of the moment decision, or did you get caught in something?”

“Does Vance Hopper count?”

“Yikes.”

You quickly socked him in the shoulder, lips turned into a frown as you looked at him. Bruce just gave a light chuckle and apologized for the remark while rubbing his shoulder. You weren’t by any means a crazily strong badass, but you can pack quite a mean punch. Just not against Vance Hopper, or Robin Arellano. Though, after your run-in with Vance this summer, you did practice your swings and basic attacks—just in case, you thought,

“Whatever, let’s just go to class.” You sighed, grabbing Bruce by his backpack strap and pulling on him. You two were lucky to have three out of your six of your classes together, and they were in every other class period, so it wouldn’t be horrible.

Rolling into your first period, which was Biology, you were relieved to not see a certain blonde-headed dickhead anywhere around. Bruce chuckled at you when you let out a sigh of relief and dragged you to the last available seats that were next to each other. You both would be damned if you didn’t sit next to each other. Bruce wanted someone to help keep his ‘crazy fans,’ as you dubbed it, away from him. You? You just didn’t really wanna sit next to someone you didn’t know well. You really hated the awkward silence when the teacher asked you guys to do the ‘get to know your classmate’ activities.

“Class one cleared.” He whispered to you, getting a giggle out of you. That was the nice part of being friends with Bruce, is that he always knew how to keep the mood light. Previously, a few summers ago, you both dated. It wasn’t anything big, and it just felt like being friends. You both decided to just keep up with the friends thing, considering there was no romantic chemistry there. Now you were both the other’s special person. Bruce’s break-ups, your family issues, no secret was kept between you two.

——————

After Biology ended and you started heading toward English, your stomach lurched up your throat. Vance Hopper was right in front of you. Luckily he was walking forward so he didn’t see you, but you almost bumped into him for a second time. You didn’t need to be re-acquainted with his pocket knife again. You saw a small space in the hallway clear out and give you a direct ‘in’ into your English classroom, so you quickly ducked your head and hurried into the classroom, finding a seat in the back of the class next to the windows. Thank god this spot was still open.

You set your bag down on your desk and laid your head on top of it, listening to the buzz of kids talking with their friends as they entered the classroom. What was a short 5-minute power nap gonna do? Just before you could relax fully though, the buzz turned into a quiet hum suddenly. It was weird. Did the teacher walk in? Was it Mr. Manning? He was the worst teacher to have. You lifted your head up to see what the quietness was about, expecting to see a balding middle aged man at the front of the class, but you were met with Vance Hopper.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching him walk up to you.

“Hey dipshit, you’re in my seat.”

The kids in the classroom visibly tensed as he spoke to you, watching as you gave him a tired look. You knew the easy path would be to relinquish your seat and move, but you were particularly pissed at him. You didn’t want to give him the right to walk all over you. It was the middle of a school day—what was he gonna do?

“No I’m not. I’m in my seat.”

Vance gave you an angry look, standing right next to you. “Do I need to cut off your tongue next? I’m telling you to–”

“Everyone sit down and be quiet. I’m taking attendance.” Your teacher walked in, and what did you know? Mr. Manning. “Also, these are your seats for the rest of the school year, so enjoy.” Everyone looked up at him, waiting for him to finish with whatever paper he had in his hands. Please look up. Please notice Vance. “Hopper! I know about you. Sit your ass down.” He said, pointing at the seat next to you. Fuck. That wasn’t occupied?

Vance gave you one more angry glare before dropping his stuff and sitting down begrudgingly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Well, at least Vance wouldn’t be able to torment you too much here. When you looked up though, he slid his finger across his throat. A warning.

You’re dead.

——————

“I’m telling you Bruce, he kept kicking my legs during class! It hurt like a bitch too. Have you seen his boots? I’m gonna die.” You finish telling Bruce, sitting at your table and chewing angrily on your sandwich. It was Friday, the last day of the first week of school, and you were just hours from 48 hours of freedom from Vance Hopper. “And I have to deal with him in history next.” Yes, you had Vance Hopper in two of your classes

“Wow. Good luck.” He says, trading you his apple for your peach. “I mean, good luck with getting through high school. With Vance in your classes and all.”

“Your support speaks volumes.” You say flatly, laughing along with Bruce. You couldn’t ask for a better friend—he just always made things feel so much better.

That was until you felt a cold substance coat your head entirely, slowly dripping in your hair to your clothes. Vance fucking Hopper just poured his milk all over you. Bruce just stared at you for a second, standing up instantly as you took a moment to process what happened and wipe the milk off of your face.

“What’s your problem with (Y/N), man?!” Bruce shouted at Vance, the blonde walking away with a cocky smirk.

“I mistook her for a trash can, my bad.” He chuckled, kids turning to look at the commotion building. “Maybe you shouldn’t hang around her so much, you wouldn’t want me to have to—“

Vance was met with a right hook to the face, not expecting you to fight back ever. The first time you had cried over a simple accident, but now you were swinging at him? Oh were you getting bold. He blinked in shock for a moment, pressing a hand to his face and looking at you. Maybe now would be a good time to back down and accept what you had coming, but you were feeling really stupid today.

He seized you by your collar, holding you close as he growled out, “You’ll regret that when you’re six feet under, you bitch.”

You spat in his face, kicking at his knee to get him to let go—which he did, and you fell back to the ground with all your body weight, watching him wipe the spit from his face as he wound back and gave you a good kick to your legs, a yelp caught in your throat. Now the entire cafeteria had eyes on you both, kids watching in horror, shock, and excitement. You’d love to see these kids go toe-to-toe with Vance Hopper the way you were now.

After a short while of fighting, you and Vance were on the floor. Scratches, bites, punches, hair pulling. Blood, and bruises, and welts. Vance’s arms were for sure fucked to hell and back, but he did a large number to your torso. You would totally believe it if you were told you broke a rib. It wasn’t long before Bruce had run back in with security and staff, watching the two of you get pulled apart.

Vance had a bruise already taking place on his cheek and his arms were visibly harmed—hell, you even got a hold of some of his hair. The previously fluffy but somewhat tamed mop on his head was now a mess of tangles and abuse. You meanwhile had a bloody nose, and you were holding an arm around your stomach, knees wobbly. While you managed to get back at Vance in your own way, you definitely took the brunt of the beating, and not to mention the milk in your hair was still there.

Vance fought against the grip on his arms like an angry restrained dog, while you stared at the floor, walking to the office with the teacher who was next to you. Looking over at Bruce, he mouthed a ‘sorry’ and you just gave him a small smile, shaking your head. You could always count on Bruce to somehow end up a hero in a sense. With a last look back at Vance, he also walked in defeat to the office, refusing to look at you. What a fucking asshole.

#the black phone x you #the black phone x reader #the grabber #the black phone #vance hopper x you #vance hopper #vance hopper x reader #vance the black phone #pinball vance #bruce yamada #bruce yamada x reader #robin arellano #finney blake #robin arellano x reader #finney blake x reader #brady hepner #mason thames #miguel cazarez mora #tristan pravong #blumhouse #fanfic #x reader fic #requests open #asks open #enemies to friends to lovers #fanfiction #ethan hawke

[nancypullen]

Maple Tea and Murder

I had an interesting afternoon. I spent an hour in the conference room at Adkins Arboretum with women who love murder. Okay, maybe they don't love it, they just love reading about it. For $5 I attended Crime and a Cuppa.

Join mystery maven Kathleen Wilson for an hour of intrigue, humor, and thrills as she discusses her favorite crime novels set in the great outdoors. Brace yourself with a cuppa in the face of murders, kidnappings, some twists, and many laughs. You'll leave with a solid list of titles to see you through the winter months.  When I arrived I was welcomed by Ms. Wilson and invited to partake of the scones, cookies, and many flavored teas available. I chose Maple Cinnamon tea and a gingersnap. Perfect for a fall day.

The speaker was absolutely delightful, we covered four pages of recommended murder mystery books in just an hour. Lots of laughs, plenty of good information, and a room full of women who decided to spend their Tuesday afternoon compiling a reading list for the coming winter. Good stuff.

But, and you knew there'd be a but, I don't really read fictional murders. I prefer coverage of real crimes, the unraveling of a case via smart detective work, pivotal moments, etc. I like to be able to do a little internet research after finishing the book, and discover everything from old interviews and photos to the murderer's death row meal request. I felt like a poser as the attendees bantered about their favorite authors and series. I'd never read a single book they mentioned. I may or may not read anything from the list I received today, but it was still just really fun to be in a room full of crime readers. I just felt a smidge more bloodthirsty than them. They talked a lot about "cozy mysteries" - where the quaint town and quirky characters play a big part in the plot. That all sounds delightful to me, but is that as interesting as the woman who killed her husband by putting Visine in his tea? Or the guy who started the whole slow death by antifreeze trend? How about the gal out in Washington who replaced her husband's Excedrin tablets with cyanide (she planted additional bottles on store shelves to cover her tracks, killing two other people). When it comes to crime, fiction doesn't hold a candle to reality. People are crazy. It was still a delightful talk, a really nice crowd, and I probably will try something from the list. It seemed like most of the series were built around game wardens with broken hearts, or sassy female crime busters with an angsty back story who has to team up with said hunky game warden/park ranger. I normally need more depth in my books, but I'm no snob. I love a good story and there's always a time and place for a light read. I'll probably pick up a couple at the library and give them a whirl. On other news I'm doing a little giveaway over on my PrissyHippie Facebook page. I'll be sending some lovely person a bunch of earrings just for being nice enough to follow my page and comment.

Honestly, I steer clear of Facebook anymore, at least my personal page. I'm so over it. But I enjoy interacting with the handful of folks who have found my Prissy Hippie page. They're so congenial. Same with The Happy Bookers, a wonderful collection of women who share good reads and funny book memes in a friendly space on Facebook. The rest of it can rot. Aren't we all a little burned out on social media culture? Kind of weird that I'm saying that as I post to Tumblr. I suppose it's the mean-spirited, self-important, aggressively opinionated crowd that I avoid, Not the nice folks here. I want to live in a bubble of kindness. I have grown weary of this mean ol' world. Oh well, it's time for this bookworm to wander upstairs and run a bubble bath. Maybe I'll start one of those cozy mysteries. Bet I can download one from the library tonight. Sending out loads of love tonight, I hope you feel it and it warms you. Let's all be good to each other. It's really all that matters.

I've written on this blog since 2007. It used to be more interesting, certainly a lot funnier, but life changes and so do we. Some of you have been reading my silly snippets since the beginning, some of you I've never met but consider you a friend, many of you are family and friends in "the real world". Thank you all for walking with me. What lovely company. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[avelera]

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

4. What detail in Giving Sanctuary, Come Live with Me, and This Rough Magic are you really proud of?

Oh man THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THE QUESTIONS so I didn't have to go looking XD

1 . Uhhhh.... honestly, it comes down to time?? I've got a lot of short one-shots, but I think my completed long fics like Prayers to Broken Stone or The Only Way Out is Down are more representative?

2 . So, so many of my fics boil down to "Someone either physically (transformation) or mentally (possession) is turned into their own worst nightmare version of themselves and while their lover helps them, they can't ultimately be the one to save them." like.... just so many of my fics, that's the main storyline. Whenever I get enamored of a new longfic idea it's amazing how many times that theme is at the core XD

3 .

In Giving Sanctuary: I'm really proud of the setting details of the Naxos arc. The Cycladic Islands are a personal favorite historical and geographical location for me, so researching for example that the Venetians controlled Naxos at the time, and what the population was, what the climate would by around June 10 when Dream and Hob are there, and that the Temple of Apollo (now the Portara gate mentioned as the grave of Orpheus in the fic) was briefly a church... all of that I'm sure was largely invisible to the readers but I hoped it added gravity and texture to the setting that elevated the quality of the story!

In "Come live with me": Apparently, I might have been one of the first fic writers if not the first to have Dream change to a female form while still considering himself male, because he's a shapechanger and those things are immaterial to him? Since then it's become quite a trend to hav Dream playing with gender all over the place, but at the time I published it, I was quite worried that it would be misinterpreted as trying to make Dream/Hob het, when really it was that I wanted to play with them being openly married in a historical time period and deal with the historical details female-presenting people faced in those time periods, and then subject Dream to those difficulties, which I felt he was too arrogant to really understand going into the situation?

This Rough Magic: We haven't seen it quite yet in the fic, but Hob does some super fucking cool spells in the fic, one of which @maybemalapert came up with which is just so clever I'm dying to share it with y'all. Seriously, I have to control myself not to just post everything I already have because the spellcasting stuff is so goddamn neat once we get there.

#ask meme #maggie rambles #1689 fic #arranged marriage au dreamling #occultist hob fic

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 5

betrayal / misunderstanding / broken nose

(Hockey AU)

***

He’d always thought the night Jay took the picture would be the worst of it.

Buck’s hands were clutching the rails of Jay’s iron headboard, where Jay had wanted them, where Jay had placed them after stripping Buck of his clothes, saying “Don’t let go.” His slow, sexy, predatory smile was the last thing Buck saw before the silky black blindfold was tied in place. Jay was gone after that, climbing off the bed, telling Buck how good he looked and what he thought he might do and Buck had arched into the words until he was begging to be touched.

“Be patient,” Jay had purred, appeasing Buck with a single finger drawn shiveringly down his thigh. Buck could feel that he’d climbed back onto the bed, but Jay was too far away and he wasn’t teasing; he just wasn’t there. Stretching out longer on the mattress, trying to find him, he’d said, “What’s going on up there?”

Then the flash went off, the bright light cutting through the thin fabric of the blindfold. Jay swore, “Shit. Fuck,” and when Buck let go of the bed with one hand (one hand because maybe he misunderstood, maybe it was fine, maybe he’d laugh and put his hand back and they’d-)to push the tie away, he’d seen Jay, crouched above him with his phone in his hand.

If he’d asked, Buck might even have agreed. He liked posing. He liked having his body appreciated. But Jay’s expression was the alarm of being caught red-handed and Buck knew, knew with a sinking feeling of dread and betrayal, that Jay wasn’t just taking a memento to savor later. He was taking a picture of Rangers center Evan Buckley, naked, smirking, and vulnerable, to use exactly the way those kinds of pictures get used.

Buck forced Jay to delete the photo, made him prove that he’d done it, and then had somehow managed to get himself dressed and down to the street to get a ride without throwing up. His face burned the whole drive home and for half of the night.

And that was the worst of it until five years later. In a new city. When Buck was finally playing the way he’d always known he could. When he was finally earning the respect of his team and the hockey world at large. When he started thinking he might stay. That was when the anonymously authored post was retweeted and reblogged and shared and gleefully discussed on all corners of the hockey internet.

MY WILD NIGHT WITH AN NHL ALL STAR

The Good, the Bad, and the Kinky

His agent’s was the first text he saw when he got done with practice: “Do NOT respond yet. Call me first.”

It had taken another couple messages before Buck realized what he wasn’t supposed to respond to and in the meantime, the texts kept rolling in. Half of them from numbers he didn’t even have saved in his contacts.

“Dude, is that shit true?”

“Are you okay?”

“Do you know who it is?”

“You dog 😜”

“You never told me you were into that 👀”

“Ignore it, Buck.”

“We’re all with you.”

“Fuck that guy.”

“Hey if you need something to take your mind off of it💋💋💋”

“Evan, Mike from the Tribune. If you want to set the record straight, please give me a call.”

From the looks on the faces of his teammates as they tried to pretend they weren’t stealing glances at him, they were getting messages of their own. Hen was the first one to start to approach him with a look of concern, but Buck avoided her, grabbing his bag and sneaking out the door without bothering to hit the stationary bike like usual.

“What the hell did you do to piss this guy off?” Geoff said as soon as he answered Buck’s call. “More importantly, what else does he have on you?”

“Nothing!” Buck answered, nearly merging directly into another car as his hands shook on the steering wheel. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“I don’t know, Buckley. None of my other clients get up to shit like this. You need to get yourself a publicist. I’m going to get in touch with Grant and make sure they’re not already shopping you.”

His agent hung up and Buck’s phone continued to buzz and chime all the way back to his apartment.

There were cameras outside which there almost never were. Mostly only hockey fans cared about pictures of hockey players and the press was limited to the arena and their official events. Maybe one or two regular guys who Buck knew by name. It was just his luck that he lived in LA where there were almost more cameras than there were disasters to photograph.

“Buck! Do you know who the author is?”

“Have your teammates seen the post?”

“Are you worried about other former partners coming out with similar stories?”

Buck pushed past them, but the questions followed him inside. His phone didn’t stop. His mentions were a nightmare on every platform. He shut Twitter as soon as he opened it and saw his name in the trending topics. The statements put out by the Kings and Buck’s agent condemning the piece and the interest in it were drowned out by outlet after outlet picking up the post and sharing it out wider and wider.

Can you guess this NHL player by his sexcapades? (Hint: It’s exactly who you think)

Hockey players used to be the humble, hard working gentleman of sports. What happened?

Should the Kings trade Evan Buckley? Can they?

Nash should make Buckley sit for embarrassing the team like this.

Aw, man, don’t do that. Sitting’s a little tough for Buckley right now

🤣

And I thought it couldn’t get worse than the time he fucked that mascot in Carolina

{This post may contain explicit content}

😵‍💫

🤮

Excuse you, Gritty has standards

[98 more posts]

Whether from a latent masochistic streak or just because he didn’t want to look away and find that the story had gotten bigger while he was gone, Buck couldn’t stop refreshing the pages. He read Jay’s words over and over again as his stomach roiled. If it had all been lies, Buck wouldn’t have spent the morning pressed into the corner of his couch, hoodie pulled up over his head like armor. If it had all been lies, he could have made a fiery statement, condemning the mystery author and condemning everyone who thought they had a right to consume and critique another person’s sex life.

There were some lies, of course, but it was true enough that Buck’s heart clenched with it. True enough that he could remember how he felt when it was happening, during the three times they’d been together before the photo. Soft and desired and joyful. There was a part of him that was still exposed to Jay, that always would be, this man with the sharp wit and the sharp smile who got Buck bare, begging and biddable all to make him a joke. As he read the smug asides in the unforgiving narrative, he could hear Jay’s voice in his ear.

The sixth time he read it, there was an addition.

Edit: Ha ha wow this really blew up. Doing an AMA at 6 eastern if you’re looking for more dirty details.

And for the first time, Buck felt the burn of tears in his eyes. Furious. Powerless.

The buzz of his phone started making his skin crawl so he shoved it between the couch cushions and tried not to think about it. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around, rocking just a little as he felt panic creeping in.

What else could Jay possibly have to say? Would he make up more and more audacious lies as long as he had an audience? Would an NHL team want to touch Buck when he was done?

Were there more pictures?

It was the fourth night, the night that Buck caught Jay. Not the first night with the blindfold. What if? Buck shuddered, sinking lower, deeper into the couch, folding himself tighter and smaller, trying to crush the mounting, hopeless fear. He was there for a long time.

When the gentle knock hit his door, Buck jumped and then crouched tighter into his ball. He didn’t answer. There was no one he could face right now.

The knock came again.

Then the door opened.

Buck was up like a shot, nearly falling over the coffee table as he whirled around toward the intruder. Eddie stood in the doorway, holding up one empty hand and pulling his key out of the door with the other.

“Just me.”

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to hide the fact that he’d been digging his nails into his palms for the last hour.

“Well, you took off. And you weren’t answering your phone.”

Hot shame flushed across Buck’s skin. Eddie knew. Eddie had seen the article and the articles about the article and the tweets about the articles and been shouted at by the cameras outside and Buck wanted to sink into the floor.

“Notice you didn’t take the hint.”

The attitude in Buck’s response didn’t faze Eddie at all, “Do I ever?”

And that almost made Buck feel like smiling, because no, no he didn’t. He said, “No. But there’s always a first time.”

Eddie came a little further into the apartment and Buck felt crowded. Eddie always seemed to take up so much space around him. Maybe it was just that Buck felt his presence most strongly than anyone else’s. Especially when he was like this: arms crossed, focused, not letting Buck wiggle out of a conversation that he didn’t want to have.

This time was no exception. When Buck turned and went back to the couch, compulsively refreshing the comments on Jay’s post again as he went, Eddie followed right after him.

“I came by to make sure you were okay,” he said and Buck flinched again, hating that Eddie knew. Hating that the team knew.

“I’m fine,” he answered, keeping his eyes down and away from Eddie. “Coach is going to rip me a new one tomorrow, but my agent hasn’t called me to tell me I’m being traded so yet so I guess that’s-”

“Who the fuck said you were being traded?” His voice was loud enough that Buck looked up, surprised to see the intensity of anger in Eddie’s face.

“THN. NHL Network did a round table on it too, but they didn’t think anyone would take me. Oh, then Kirk Davis did a radio interview.”

Everyone had picked up those soundbites. Even through the heavily bleeped broadcast, the future hall-of-famer’s opinion on Buck had been crystal clear. At least that wasn’t new information for Buck. Davis had all but refused to shake Buck’s hand when he first joined the Predators and was a big part of why his tenure there had only lasted until the trade deadline.

“Kirk Davis is a fucking asshole. There’s a reason they never made him captain.”

“He’s not the only one who said it.”

“Then he’s not the only fucking asshole out there.” When he didn’t respond, Eddie came around the couch to stand face to face with him, noticing the open comments page as he did. “Christ, have you been reading that shit all day?”

Somehow it made Buck laugh. “It’s the same shit I’ve been reading for 8 years. Since I got drafted. Buckley’s a distraction to his team. Buckley’s an embarrassment to the game of hockey. Buckley cares more about getting laid and partying than he does about winning. It’s guys like Buckley that hurt the NHL.”

His voice pitched up as he recited the familiar accusations, staring somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder because Eddie already knew all this about him. Eddie was the opposite of Buck in every way. He would never make himself the center of attention. He’d never do anything to make his teammates ashamed to play with him. He’d never be so stupid as to go home with a guy like Jay.

“Buckley’s finally getting what he deserves.” Buck whispered.

“Look at me,” Eddie said. When Buck couldn’t, Eddie reached out, setting a light hand on his shoulder that got tighter when Buck tried to shrug out of the hold. “Hey. Look at me.”

He moved his head into the space where Buck was staring into the middle distance and waited. Until Buck couldn’t help but flick his gaze to meet Eddie’s. Once he did, he found a furious compassion that startled him.

“You don’t deserve this, Buck. You did nothing to deserve this. It is not your fault. Nobody in our room thinks it is. Bobby doesn’t think it is.”

Buck shuddered under the weight of the words. He wanted to pull himself free and he wanted to step in closer, “My agent told me I should own it. Post a couple thirst traps and a middle finger on instagram and just wave it off like another classic Evan Buckley weekend.”

There was a time when he would have. Times when he had. But this wasn’t a ridiculous paparazzi photo outside a bar, it was… It was private. It hurt.

As if reading his mind, Eddie said, “That’s not what this is. Fire him if he wants to make you pretend this is okay.”

“I just keep thinking if I was anyone else. If I was someone good, they’d all go after him and not me. I didn’t even do anything to him, Eddie. I didn’t-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eddie tugged him forward and his arms were tight around his back. Buck should have tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but fall against his chest and cling on. “You are someone good,” Eddie said, making Buck’s breath hitch. “And if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s wrong. They’re wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Buck confessed into the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt. “I was so stupid back then. I just wanted- I wanted him to like me. And I’m still- It still hurts that he didn’t. How fucked up is that? He did this. And I still just wish he liked me.”

One of Eddie’s hands moved up to cradle the back of Buck’s head. They were swaying, just a little, Eddie rocking them gently. “I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

He managed to keep from crying, but Buck couldn’t stop his breath from coming out in soft, stuttering gasps. Couldn’t keep his fingers from digging into Eddie’s back. If he thought about it, he could imagine this post too (Evan Buckley cried like a baby on my shoulder AMA), but Eddie would never do that. The warm heat of him against Buck’s chest was like a blanket hiding him from the world. It was the most vulnerable he’d been all day and the most sheltered.

Eddie didn’t let go until Buck pulled back and even then he didn’t go far, “Have you eaten since practice?”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to without throwing up,” Buck said honestly.

“Do you want to order something from-”

The timer on Buck’s laptop shrieked and they both jumped. Eddie recovered quickly, but Buck’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d almost forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Pulling away from Eddie, he turned off the timer and refreshed the post, looking for the link he knew would be there.

“Come on, Buck, really?”

Eddie reached out to slam the laptop closed, but Buck shoved his hand in the way. “I have to, Eddie. He’s doing an AMA. I have to-”

“I’m not going to let you torture yourself reading what a bunch of sick assholes have to say, Buck. No way.”

“I have to.”

“No, you-”

“Yes, I do!” He shouted it, standing up to look Eddie in the eye. “I have to read it. I have to see it now because if- if- if I wait and it gets reposted- I have to know if he has- I have to-”

“Buck,” Eddie said, putting his hands on Buck’s arms, trying to rub calmness back into him even as Buck’s heart-rate accelerated. “What does he have? What could be worse than what he already-”

“Pictures,” Buck yelled. “I have to know if he has pictures.”

A dark, dark look came over Eddie’s face and he stopped rubbing Buck’s arms to squeeze instead. “You think he has pictures?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Buck whimpered. He saw himself as if from above, stretched out long and lewd against Jay’s sheets. He imagined ten thousand other people seeing it. “He took- I caught him taking one. Once. But I don't know if it was the only one. I don’t- I can’t let them get out. If he has them, I have to know. I have to report the post. I have to-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“Yes, Eddie. I have-”

“I hear you. Okay? I hear you, but I’m not letting you do that. I’m not letting you put any more of that garbage in your head.”

“Eddie.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll report every goddamn post.” Lifting one hand, Eddie stroked a thumb softly along Buck’s hairline. “Let me do it. Let me protect you.”

Buck swallowed hard, fear and relief and longing fighting for control of the tears that were building up again. He didn’t want Eddie to see any of that. He didn’t want Jay’s words in Eddie’s head. But Buck really really didn’t want them in his own. He wanted someone to protect him. “Thank you,” he said, falling forward again to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie replied, rubbing his hands firmly up Buck’s back.

Eddie wouldn’t let Buck sit on the couch while he monitored the thread. He fished Buck’s phone out of the couch and made him answer the important messages. From Maddie. From Bobby. From Hen and Chimney. Then he’d told him to order food from the Lebanese place they always ordered from when Eddie came over, asking for extra of the pickled turnips. All the while, Eddie’s fingers slammed onto the keyboard, that sound the only reaction he gave to any of the posts.

It should have been unbearable, letting Eddie comb through the messages. Even without seeing them, Buck knew what they were like. He blocked people every week for the same kind of thing. But Eddie had a defense against them that Buck never had: he didn’t believe they were true. Not even a little bit. He didn’t believe there was a chance that Buck was getting what he deserved for being a show off, for never being a points leader, for being open and soft hearted, for being himself. Eddie believed Buck deserved to be protected and he was ruthless about it.

“No pictures,” he said, a while later, when Jay had finally stopped replying to every comment on the page. “And the rest of it is… well. It’s nothing new.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s done.”

Eddie closed the laptop as if by making that gesture of finality, he could make the words true. Buck, allowed back on his own couch, let himself believe it too. Let himself lean into the safety of Eddie’s arm over his shoulders, breathing in a deep sigh of relief as they caught the Canucks game.

The next morning, Jay’s story was hardly anywhere to be seen. It was replaced. By an essay in The Players’ Tribune. It excoriated Jay. It called out Kirk Davis by name and hundreds of online posters by their bad intentions. It praised Buck’s grace, tenacity, and backhand shot and it demanded respect and compassion and privacy from anyone who called themselves a hockey fan. And it wasn’t anonymous.

#whumptober2021 #no. 5 #betrayal #fic #911 #hanging out at the angst end of the spectrum #911fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hockey au #allison can’t write a short fic to save her life #minimal edits #messy ending #questionable formatting #230 am #😴

[juusworld5728]

Lets talk about Azriel’s shadows...

I think that a lot of people seem to forget what Azriel’s shadows actually represent and what different reaction from them actually mean.

Lets start at the very beginning to his childhood... For the first 11 years of his life, Azriel lived in a cell with no windows or light. He was allowed to come out only for an hour a day, and to see his mother for one hour every week. There are many different ways that one can argue how Azriel came to acquire his shadowsinging abilities or whether it was something genetic (either way, its very rare). Rhysand did mention that he might’ve learned to speak to his shadows in the cell that he was kept in. Either way, his shadows are not something of his past that he necessarily wants to remember. Whether he’s appreciative of those shadows now does not reflect the fact that they were born out of fear and loneliness.

In terms of personality, it’s very important to note how he reacts to things and different people. The way that I see it, he uses his shadows as a defense mechanism. Whenever he’s in an uncomfortable situation, he tends to hide in a corner and his shadows surround him to block from sight. However, when he’s in a good situation or surrounded by certain people, they seem to go away. A lot of people see that as a bad thing, but his shadows are not only supposed to represent his powers, but also his very traumatic past. Soooo you might ask, what exactly do the shadowsinger’s shadows represent?

Well, here is my take. Those shadows in terms that are not power-based, represent that very same cell that he was locked in for the first 11 years of his life. I’m not talking about Nuala and Cerridwen here. I’m talking about his defense mechanism shadows. This wonderful male was trapped without social contact, friends, or anyone to rely on. So yeah, he will be introvert. He has a family, but that doesn't stop him from the fact that his social skills will not be the best in comparison. His shadows represent his loneliness that he feels he deserves and craves when he feels cornered. For the first 11 years of his life, that was ALL HE KNEW. When his shadows “brighten” or are nowhere to be seen, I can imagine that as being the hour he had out of his cell every day. That feeling of relief and freedom. Yes, he needs to learn to accept himself more and who he has become. However, that can be done in the sense that his shadows do not have to be around him ALL THE TIME.

Now, in terms of relationships: 

Mor: His first love. At the young age of around 19. Only 8 years after he’s been let out into society and learned his way through. Does he even know how to handle love?? Probably not. He was born a bastard and probably saw his mother being treated like shit by his father and stepmother. So I doubt love is something he believes in at this point. However, he does fall in love with her. His reaction to that? What he knows best. Avoidance. That dark cell still very present in his mind. That feeling of being very aware of how broken you are but don’t know how to fix it. He does not want to put that burden on Mor. Everything that happens between Cassian and Mor probably makes him feel even worse. Throughout the years though, he can’t help but feel happy just to be around her and in her presence (hence why his shadows disappear). It can be argued that he's known that she hasn't been interested for a while. Maybe what he truly craved wasn't the actual love that he wanted from Mor, but the feeling of love that came from her that made his shadows go away. He craved it and wanted to be around her for that feeling.

Elain: The first time that Azriel meets Elain is in the human lands. She asks him if he can truly fly. He blushes and gets flustered, and why? Do you think that maybe a lot of people haven't bothered to see him in a certain light to ask those type of questions? I mean sure he has his family, but this human girl that is supposedly terrified of him because he’s fae, asks him such a simple and light-hearted question... Slowly but surely, in ACOWAR he beings to get more comfortable with her. She’s broken but at the same time, holding on. He takes notice of a certain light that she radiates as well as her seer powers a little bit later. The first time they’re brought over to the House of Wind, she calls his scars beautiful. The importance of this scene is very overlooked. She called the thing that makes him the most insecure, induces the most amount of fear, and creates his hatred... beautiful. This woman that barely knows him has already accepted every part of him. He further loves to glance out at the garden (a place of happiness that reminds him of Elain) and loves to look at that hidden light in her eyes that makes his shadows either brighten or disappear. It’s very similar to the feeling with Morrigan, but more direct and has incentive. Now, lets talk about truth-teller (the knife that always strikes true). That is one part of himself that he has never shared with ANYONE. Why did he give her truth-teller? Because Elain has already accepted every part of him. Truth-teller is an extension to himself in a sense. Something that belongs wholly to him and makes him feel safe. He trusts Elain enough to give her a part of himself. A very vulnerable moment never seen before by Azriel. In ACOFAS, When Azriel asks about Lucien, he truly does not want to spy on him. It could be for privacy reasons because of Elain but also because he’s afraid of what he’ll see from him in terms of Elain. His siphons gutter and he stutters over his words. Now, winter solstice was a very light-hearted moment but very important as well. As we can tell, Elain is the perfect gift-giver. She gives Azriel a potion for his headaches which is perfect and very hilarious since he laughs (he’s never laughed before in Feyre’s presence). It’s very telling to Elain’s personality as being a very attentive person which amounts to her really caring about Azriel and what’s going on with him. He tends to be pretty hidden and keeps a poker face most of the time, so for her to notice the little things like that is very important. I rest my case..... for now.

Gwyn: I honestly cannot say much about this ship. What I can say are from pages I have been sent and trends I have been seeing through Azriel’s personality. It seems to me like Azriel is the least tense around people he considers his friends and brothers. Even though he's usually pretty serious anyways, the bat boys seem really comfortable with each other. When Mor was around (especially in ACOMAF), he would get worried. However, when she wasn't paying to him, his shadows would disappear (similar things happened with Elain). It seems to me like Gwyn has an outwardly fun personality and Azriel has no problem with that because he is not worried about anything happening. The most I’ve seen from the books between them is simple banter that included the rest of the friend group. When either of them talk, what I’ve seen from Azriel is amusement. That amusement results in Azriel’s shadows dancing around HIMSELF. Not anyone else. No, the shadows did not dance around Gwyn or any other person. I currently see this as a friendship and would need more build-up for me to even ship it. It seems like Azriel seems fine acting like this with people he is not worried about catching feelings with.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#acosf #acotar #azriel #azriel meta #biggest wingspan #azriel's shadows #elriel #elriel vibes #pro elain #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #morrigan #the gentle grower of things #elain archeron #acosf spoilers

[persepholline]

I've read that article about the romanticization of the Darkling and while I absolutely understand people who are pissed off/sad and I agree that it's shitty, I find LB's attitude towards Darkles stans very funny in a "girl what are you doing" sort of way because it's so petty like I've never heard of a bestselling author writing a portion of their fans into their books as a crazy cult before, it clearly hit a nerve

I'm new to the fandom but the feeling I get is she wrote something problematic ten years ago and became very embarrassed about it afterwards so she turned on the fans that liked it as a way to absolve herself. Especially since fandoms in general have become a lot more focused on discussion of what constitutes healthy/acceptable relationships to write about. And in a way I get it I had a huge Twilight phase in high school and afterwards I was super embarassed about it because of how problematic and cringe it was. But now with distance and more maturity I'm able to both still see why it was problematic and also why I was drawn to it (mostly the very unhinged representation of female desire) and like...it's really not the end of the world and no it never made me believe that breaking into somebody's room at night to watch them sleep was actually ok in real life lmao. This feels so obvious to me but apparently it needs to be said.

(More under the break this is turning into an essay, I've been thinking of this a lot recently)

And of course it's good to have these discussions about how historically romance tropes have echoed social dynamics of men's shitty behavior being romanticized and excused. But these days they often are so simplistic and focused on chasing clout that they become this weird new puritanism and moral panic about oh now women are reading novels it's going to make them hysterical or something

So you have these weird assumptions that you can't like a character and also be critical of their actions, or enjoy certain parts of a character and not others, or wish they were written differently and like them more for their potential (which I'm sure stings a bit for an author lol) - it assumes that if you like a character it means you would approve of their actions in real life, or that people just stupidly reproduce whatever they see on TV. That tendency to treat fictional characters like real people is the thing that actually worries me, to be honest, because it indicates a lack of distance and critical capacities regarding how stories are used and received. But people - fans and authors - are so scared of being called out as problematic and harassed for it that they're going to shy away from any nuance.

And yeah I think that it's good that standards of what constitutes an ideal relationship are evolving and becoming more feminist and communicative and all that and we definitely need more of that. But not all fiction has to be aspirational! Sometimes you just want to read about fucked up shit, because it's cathartic or fascinating, even healing at times because with fiction you are absolutely in control and can choose when to close the book. Toxic relationships in fiction can have an appeal specifically because they go to extremes of feeling that we don't want to go to in reality, in exactly the same way as horror movies or very violent action movies - which I don't see a lot of people besides fundamentalist Christians argue that they turn you into violent psychopaths (and that feels very obviously sexist). And for women, who are often taught growing up that love is the purpose of life, the "saving someone with your ability to love" can be a power fantasy in the same way that being a buff superhero who saves the day with their capacity for incredible violence can be a power fantasy for men. Still doesn't mean those women are going to fall in love with actual murderers or that those men are going to start beating up people at night. And love is scary, and weird, and weirdly close to horror at times, with all the potential for loss of self and being vulnerable and overwhelming feelings and potential for being horribly hurt and it should be possible for stories to explore that without anybody screaming about how this is going to Corrupt the Youth or something

And I mean I get it LB wanted to write a cautionary tale for teenagers, but it just did not work for reasons a lot of people have already written about - the fact that the Darkling is the leader of an oppressed minority and is the only one with a real political agenda to end that oppression in the first trilogy, the fact that he helps Alina come into her own power while her endgame LI is someone she keeps herself small for, that she's shamed for wanting power after growing up without any, a generally very wonky conception of privilege, and a lot of other stuff with yucky regressive implications to the point where stanning the villain actually feels liberating and empowering which is a surefire sign that the narrative is broken (unless it's a villain focused story lmao). But of course that Fanside article makes almost no mention of the political dynamics, it's all about interpersonal stuff which is an annoying trend in YA, there are those massive events happening in the background but it's made all about the feelings of the hero(ine) ; war as a self-development quest (which is kind of gross). Helnik is kind of an example of this too - I like them, I think they're fun ! But Matthias spends a big part of the story wanting to brutally murder Nina and her kind, and he mostly changes his mind because he finds her hot. Like you don't feel there is some sort of big revelation that his entire moral system and political framework is completely rotten ; it's all better because of feelings now.

As a teenager that kind of sanctimonious bullshit would have annoyed the hell out of me ; I read those books in my early twenties and I found the ending so stupid I wouldn't have trusted any message or life lessons coming from them. And I liked reading/watching dark stuff as a teenager, as a way to deal with the very intense inner turmoil I was dealing with - and I turned out fine ! Meanwhile I've seen several times women in very shitty relationships being obsessed with positive energies and stories ; they were so terrified of their life not being perfectly wholesome they ended up being delusional about their own situations.

Like personally I think the Darkling is a compelling, interesting, alluring character and also a manipulative, murderous piece of shit and that Alina should get to punish him (like in a sexy way) - but he's also the end result of centuries of war, oppression and trauma and reducing that to "toxic wounded boy" feels kind of offensive ngl ESPECIALLY since the books don't offer any kind of systemic analysis or response to oppression beyond "the bad guy should die" and "now the king/queen is a good guy our problems are solved!!!!"

In Lives of the Saints, we see how Yuri is abused extremely badly and almost killed by his father, and so when his father dies when the Fold swallows Novokribirsk, he thinks the Starless Saint has saved him. Later in KoS/RoW he's turned into this fanatic who explains away all the Darkling's crimes. The other followers talk about how the Starless Saint will bring equality for all men. Then the Darkling comes back and actually thinks his followers are pathetic, which feels again like a very pointed message to his IRL stans. Which is absolutely hilarious to me. Like oh no, if he was real he would not like you and think you're pathetic ! Yeah ...but he's not. Real. Damn right he would not like the fics where Alina puts him on a leash. I'm still going to read them. What is he going to do about it, jump out of the page ? Jfjfjjdhfgfjfj

Anyway I think the intended message is "assholes will use noble political causes for their own gain and to manipulate people" and "being abused/oppressed is not an excuse to behave badly." Which. Sure. But that's kind of like...a tired take, honestly ? A big number of villains nowadays are like this ; either they've been bullied as kids, or they're part of an oppressed group, or they have "good ideals but too extreme". This is not surprising because a lot of mainstream heroic narratives present clinging to the status quo as Good and change as chaotic and dangerous. And like sure in real life people often do bad shit because they're wounded and in danger. But if you want to do a story like that, you have to do it with nuance, talk about cycles of violence, about how society creates vulnerable people to be exploited, about how privilege gives you more choices and the luxury of morals, etc. The Grishaverse does not have this level of nuance (maybe in SoC a little bit but definitely not in TGT). So it kind of comes off as "trauma makes you evil" and "egalitarianism is dangerous" and "if you're abused/oppressed you're not allowed to fight back". And ignores the fact that historically, evil generally comes from unchecked privilege.

I guess my point is that there are many things I like about LB's writing, she knows how to create these really exciting character dynamics, and the world she has created is fascinating. But these stories are not a great starting point for imparting moral lessons. And her best characters tend to be, at least in canon, the morally grey ones. I hope one day she'll be at peace with the fact that she wrote the Darkling the way she did and leave his fans alone but in the meantime I'm just not going to take this whole thing seriously I'm sorry

#darklina #the darkling #alina starkov #aleksander morozova

[paula-of-christ]

My conversion story

This is extremely a long time coming. People have been asking for my full conversion story for a long, long, l o n g time. So here it is! Been sitting in my drafts and I finally finished it! I still consider myself on my “conversion” journey even now as a devout Catholic, because there is always so much more to learn and so much closer to God that I can grow and so much more virtue in which to receive. But, I hope this gives a good outline for you all and I will be making a FAQ page soon for this as well as other questions people often have about myself!

Major Trigger Warning for mentions of depression and suicide. It is after the cut and in italics so that you can scroll past if you want to read the rest of it.

So I grew up Catholic, not really devout, but I went to Church every Sunday and every holy day. Got all the sacraments and such (except confirmation because that is when I'm 16). So in middle school I was kind of angry at the Church for various reasons, not so much blaming God as I'm blaming the Church. But then my dad ended up getting really sick with cancer. Right before this I had started getting super into Greek mythos and I started relying on that instead of God. I still was going to church every Sunday because that's what my family did and I was going to religious education, but I was actively finding ways in which I thought the Church was wrong. As my dad's cancer developed I was pretty much just an angry pre-teen that never had a strong basis of what it meant to be Catholic. And right after I started high school my dad ended up passing away. For about a year and a half after that I tried relying on my Greek paganism and some Wiccan things to combat the depression. And I was still angry at God because I felt like He abandoned me. So I was writing my suicide letter and I wrote one to my mom but while I was writing it I was praying for something to happen to stop me. And I wasn't really sure who I was praying to but I knew my mom still had faith so God was kind of on my mind.I ended up (clearly) not committing suicide that day and being able to continue on to go to a youth retreat that summer. At that point in my life I had already started coming back to the church, but was still convinced that you could believe anything and still go to your respective "heaven". And I was in a bad relationship at the time (which contributed to the depression) and just a bunch of other stuff that inhibited me from going to God. After that first retreat I started praying and reading the bible every day. And I went on another two retreats in the fall. One a youth one and another a women's day-retreat. And between that and it starting to be my junior year, so my catechism classes were geared towards confirmation, I was really starting to become comfortable with the notion of being "Catholic" and having a faith life outside of my family, which was never particularly strong. 

But let’s go back again a few years to my catechism classes from middle school through high school. I was the Problem Child that looked like I would never be Catholic and after confirmation just stop going to Mass. At class I either didn’t care enough to pay attention and when I did pay attention I gave my teachers crap at every turn, asking why and debating it. I actually made a nun/someone who worked with nuns tell my youth director she was never going to come back to talk to us because I didn’t back down on my argument that she never made a real point during her whole big speech she had about environmental justice (a talk that was supposed to be about social justice according to Catholic Social Teaching).

This trend continued until I was about 15-1/2. My first real boyfriend had broken up with me, I was still trying to sort out on my own the trauma of my father having passed, and there was no fulfillment in paganism. I would read about how we personally have all this power and it’s in ourselves and we just need to ask for help in unlocking it through spells and rituals to these pagan gods, yet no matter what I did I could never get out of it. I was starting to turn towards Christ more and started watching A.D. The Bible Continues with my mom and got hooked, but I wasn’t really sure about the whole “only God” thing.

I felt hopeless and I wrote a letter, I don’t even know where it went I think my teacher had taken it, and I begged God that if He would save me, prove to me that He was real, I wouldn’t ever try to kill myself again. I had gone over to the windowsill of my classroom (3rd story) and was going to jump out of it. It was during class but no one ever batted an eye about someone sitting up on the heaters next to the window because it got warm in there and we were allowed to sit up there. The class was taking a test and right before I was going to do it, a boy that I hardly talked to, and that I didn’t talk to after that, pulled me down and just bear-hugged me.

Somehow, by the grace of God, word didn’t get out that it was me that had tried to kill myself. It was a small school and stuff like that traveled fast but it was never something that anyone except my own friends and the people in that class knew was me.

I started watching AD The Bible Continues, which seems like something silly to have had such a great affect on me, but it really did. I started reading Acts of the Apostles after that and was moved by the way that the Apostles cared so much for Christ. I was getting really close with my youth group, which in high school split between guys and girls (which was a serious blessing) and my teacher, while she didn’t have all the answers, was always super patient and kind to me as well as charitable and always answered my questions to the best of her ability. Even when it was slightly off topic. A big part of why I converted was because of the apologetics. I wanted to know the answers to my questions so I started looking for them.

That summer I started an anti-depressant and went on my first youth trip, because I had to for youth group. I attended Steubenville Midwest (I think that’s what it was called then) in Minnesota, and was hooked on monotheism from there. I went to confession for the first time pretty much since I had my first Reconciliation. It was freeing, but I knew the next year I would be preparing for Confirmation and I didn’t want to make a choice about Catholicism until I was sure. I knew God made me feel good but I started researching Islam and Judaism. I think if I had learned more about Orthodox Judaism I would have had a harder time discerning but as it stood I only really knew about Reformed and Conservative Jews so that left my mind pretty quickly. I was enthralled with a lot of Islam’s teachings but when I researched further and got a Quran it just didn’t make sense. The teachings from one part were in complete contradiction to other parts, as well as their teachings about the dignity and worth of women. God, who created humans in His image, would have no reason to make women worth less than men in any capacity. So that ended up getting struck out.

Then that fall I went to NCYC 2015. It was amazing, and that is where I met the Salesian sisters and talking with them and fully realized my call to religious life. When I was little I used to always say that I wanted to be like the Virgin Mary when I grew up, and now, discerning with the cloister I am now looking in to, I really feel like that want is being fulfilled. God speaks His truth through His little ones and I feel like from that time I’ve come full circle. Back into the embrace of God as my Creator and Father and Comforter, like a little child going to their parent not only in times of distress, but in times of joy and wonder as well.

And of course, a huge thank you to so many faithful Catholics here on tumblr, that have helped my journey through the years. So many of whom are no longer with us here but if you don’t mind I will tag a few of you that are truly in my heart forever. @keepcatholic @captainvatican (and co, I can’t remember everyone’s urls rip) @sonia-marmeladova @tradcatmaria  and gosh when I think about it, so many that have helped me with my theology over the years are just no longer on tumblr and I haven’t been able to contact for years.

Alas, that is the last of my very long, very long awaited, conversion story. Thank you thank you to all that have asked! And I hope this can help many that come to my blog.

#catholic #catholicism #traditional catholic #traditional catholicism #christian #christianity #conversion #ex pagan #ex suicide #ex depression #tw suicide mention #tw suicide #tradcatholicism #tradcat #tradcatholic #nuns #nun #priest #priests

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Enzo anon here - the more this era is progressing, my theory about gaymila being used as damage control and for profit seems to be happenening.

I have some thoughts that I know many other CS share, i think it would be good to summarise what i’ve seen on different blogs into one post as well as adding my own theory. So this will be a long one but i hope you guys find it insightful and Stuck thank you again for giving me a space on your blog!

Let’s look back on CC2 and the aftermath of its release. A quick disclaimer : I’ll only be addressing her situation in terms of the social/PR aspect as we have no idea what other factors might be at play such as contracts and money etc.

It’s fair to say that C was and is not in a good place reputation wise. Señorita was of course a smash hit but was mostly used to promote S. Her fans complained about C almost becoming a double act with S. These fans understandably signed up for C, not S and so subsequently most of them unfollowed her on SM and stopped paying attention to her to escape the constant Showmila. For the GP, Showmila became a mockery and so it’s asking a lot from her fans to stay when she was constantly embarrassing herself to the point that it made it uncomfortable for them. Of course with this comes the racist controversies also involving Normani which brought back the entire 5H feud. This put C even further than she already was against LAND and so the narrative that she was hated by the other girls for being obnoxious and attention seeking was further reinforced by her being racist towards N. All of this made/makes Camila extremely easy to hate, to the public she seems like a privileged straight girl who has never once had any sort of difficulty or obstacle in her life.

On the CS side of the fandom, many having left after having enough of the Showmila circus, leaves very few CS to fight back against the narrative. Even more leave after Lauren’s bombshell of a podcast. For example, this graph from google trends show how searches for “camren” or “camila cabello camren” are/were decreasing.

We know that CS are a very large part of C’s fanbase so who are we left with ? Many solo C stans all have converted into SS accounts and again even then S takes the main focus, not C. So… its not looking good, having people being fans of yours only for your relationship is a risky move business wise. We’ve all wanted Showmila to end for a long while and we definitely can all agree that the end is long overdue, infact a lot of us believe that had there not been the pandemic they would’ve broken up a while ago. So where does C stand now? Well, in my opinion, after this entire circus (which unfortunately is still ongoing) C is in a very vulnerable position. How does she promote her upcoming album with so much of her fanbase gone? Perhaps a big break up album? That option doesn’t sound great when she most likely will get the short end of the stick narrative wise and be further disliked by the little fans she does has left. If Camila doesn’t have Shawn anymore, the SS will most likely all disappear leaving her with a very limited amount of people who have the guts to actually publicly support her. Another option she could have is to keep riding on this relationship until people get bored, only that’s already happening and Showmila does not have the punch it once did to get a second Señorita. What about a fake pregnancy or a marriage? God we hope not and I really believe that Camila would do anything in her power to avoid that as we’ve seen how extremely unhappy she seems just being his girlfriend. For all we know Shawn might be very against this idea too and even if they did go along with it would it really be enough to promote CC3 ? After a few weeks the excitement would have died down again and leave them both back to square one. Not to mention that C getting married/pregnant would make even some of her most dedicated fans leave for good and would still not be enough to get her out of the racist accusations.

This is where my theory comes into play, however i think her team will only follow through with this if they are smart and if they aren’t actually sabotaging her. This past year I watched as Taylor Swift released her two albums and broke numerous records and achieved incredible success. I do not think this success would’ve been achieved had it not been for the insane rise in speculation over her sexuality due to her new songs. T is of course a household name, she’s earned her place amongst the top artists of this generation but people were starting to get bored hearing dramatic songs about her oh so difficult love life being a straight white girl. This is why when folklore and evermore came out there was so much buzz and excitement about T possibly being LGBTQ to the point that it found it’s way to the GP. People were wondering what these gay songs with gay lyrics were and so they went to listen for themselves. Eventually tons and tons of extra streams and talk generated from people who would’ve otherwise never paid attention. Myself included. You can see below on google trends the massive increase in online searches for “gaylor swift”. The gaylor side of tumblr also expanded as there had never been so many songs with so much queer interpretations to analyse and discuss and more and more of the GP were getting curious enough to read the blogs. Regardless if you think Taylor is gay or not, the general public discussing it was an essential part in improving her image for Gen Z and promoting her albums thus creating $$$ for her team and label.

Keeping this in mind, I believe that C might (not having many options left to salvage her career/reputation) take a page out of TS’s book and have an era that will attract more LGBT fans than ever before. We’ve seen how camren is slowly coming back. Even just by C liking a picture of L’s it was enough to bring back out a whole lot of fans who had abandoned her. Her team see this, they know this, they are aware. If talks of Camila being gay will generate more $$$ they will use that to their advantage and push out the new gay narrative as much as they can. I don’t think she will explicitly come out any time soon, and i don’t think that they will “confirm camren” but this era will definitely set her up for it in the future like the way it has for TS and it will give her a stable fanbase for a long while, which at the moment she is in dire need of.

Although C would’ve probably liked her relationship with L to remain private I think she may have no other choice but to use it more than she ever has before to save herself. Sadly no amount of self improvement and apologies will ever erase her racist past, it will follow her forever and people will never stop talking about it, unless there’s something more interesting to discuss. That’s the way the internet works, a photo of camren together in 2021/2022 would generate more buzz than anything Showmila related. Not only would all of the CS who left come back but all the anti-CS would be talking about it too and an entire wave of new fans would be interested enough to join. There would be no room to talk about Camila Cabello being racist when Camila Cabello is actually gay/dating Lauren Jauregui is the new talk.

Of course this entire process will not be instant but we can see that they are building up to something like that. Perhaps Camren being public friends again which would still generate a ton of talk as it did back in the 5H days. She will not instantly break up with S and then be seen making out with L the next day but I do think that although it wasn’t her or her teams plan to use her relationship/sexuality, i think she has no other choice if she ever wants to gain favour with the public again. Let’s not forget that the rest of 5H seem to be on their way to having new music out very very soon and just as camren worked to promote 5H in the old days it will work again in 2021/2022. This would encourage her team even more to follow this route as it would suit everyone, even if they no longer are a group they will always be connected.

We shall wait and see what happens, of course circumstantial situations may arise to cause them to switch up their plans but for now all this 5H, camren and gaymila interactions are no coincidence. That’s for sure.

This concludes my very long post! thank you to anyone who took the time to read this, thank you again to Stuck and if anyone has anything else to add that i might have missed or any questions don’t hesitate! I love hearing what everyone else has to say. To clarify these are all my personal thoughts and speculations and I am not claiming to know anything for certain.

____

Wow, I didn't expect to be a window into another great submission from my dear buddies, but Enzo, I loved your post. And I really totally agree with you in what you mentioned.

The truth is that it is true, Camila has been selling her LGBT + agenda of hers since 2020 and even long before because I always had the theory that she would be let out after having a big heterosexual PR circus. This PR circus with the diva is that circus and what we have been seeing, because it checks all our theories.

As for Gaymila, she has always been there. More crushed with the fucking circus shit maybe, but she's always been there and one thing I want to emphasize is that most of Camila's fandom other than SS or homophobic, would accept Camila out of the closet, ALWAYS AND WHEN NOT WITH LAUREN.

That is why I think Camila would have more followers if the aforementioned are left aside, because they would have no problem supporting her and we would be more, considering that those clowns are partly paid fans and bots.

I don't think she will even give him permission to leave her, but if she does it is because that would also be part of her contract. Of her agreeing to do all this theater of the absurd with the circus, as long as they let her out at the end.

The fucking shit hole that is the industry knows that it has to please its LGBT + audience because we are the ones who support artists the most. The main audience for them may always be heterosexuals, but when they get bored and look for something else, the ace up their sleeve will always be the community and with the examples that you have given my dear Enzo, that is proof of it.

The thing with Camila is that she's never been in the closet. They forced her into a closet and that's different. Camila always felt good being herself and they have tried to cover that with different types of circuses since she was in the band because it is what suits business.

What we are seeing now with Camila is that, a double agenda, that of the circus managed by the idiots behind it and Camila's own agenda that lets us see Gaymila from time to time.

And when I talk about an agenda, I do not do it in a negative way but as something that she must have already planned.

My theme now is that it will come in that aspect. I don't think I'm waiting for a circus engagement or a lavender marriage, but I do hope that Camila can set Gaymila freer every time. Unfortunately, everything else is still very screwed up and this circus just represses it more and more.

The problem is that as long as she does not regain some control over her career and her image, no matter how small, nothing will change.

#submission #enzo anon #love you buddy

[soyforramen]

If you have time/energy, 41 for the bughead prompts pls! It’s the “overhears they have feelings for you.”

Now that i finally have the time, here’s some fluff to counter the angst!

-

             Betty paused at the door to the Blue and Gold office when she heard voices.  This late in the day, it was usually only her and Jughead still working on the college newspaper. Or, rather, while she continued working diligently on page layouts while he worked on homework on the couch.

             “It’s not that big of a deal,” Jughead said.  “Right?  So I should just say it.”

             She peeked in through the crack in the door and saw him pacing back and forth, his hands waving wildly in the air.

             “If it’s not that big of a deal, why haven’t you said it?” came a reply from Toni.  

             Strange; Toni was always the most punctual person on their team.  Her photos had been ready to print for over a week, and she rarely spent her free time in the office..  Unless Jughead had dragged her into his usual shenanigans regarding things that went bump in the night?

             “Because –“

             Jughead stopped and made a pained noise. Unsympathetic, Toni snickered, and even Betty had to cover her mouth from laughing.  As much as she enjoyed his company, even Betty had to admit it was amusing to see him get so wrapped up in himself.

             “It’s just three words,” Toni pointed out.  “And it’s not like it will kill you to say it.”

             “She might.”

             “Betty is not going to murder you –“

             “Not her, Cheryl.”

             This time, Toni burst out in peals of laughter that covered up Jughead’s response. Curious to hear her cousin’s name, Betty leaned closer to the open door.   The fiery tempered red-head was as much of a fan of Jughead’s as he was of hers, and that wasn’t saying much of anything.  

             “Cheryl is why you’re afraid to say ‘I love you‘?”

             Jughead grumbled something inaudible, and Betty glanced up and down the halls to make sure she was alone.  This close to information so pertinent to her life – Jughead was in love???? When did that happen??? Why??? - the last thing she needed was someone as boisterous as Kevin or Veronica yelling her name down the hall. Pressing herself against the door frame, Betty bit her lip and tried to calm her pounding heart.

             “The last time someone even mentioned asking Betty out –“

             Betty had to bite her tongue to keep from starting.  A pen fell from her pocket and echoed in the empty halls. There was a silence, and she waited to be found out.  

             “That was because it was Reggie Mantle doing the asking,” Toni pointed out, completely ignorant of being eavesdropped on.  She continued in a less than sure voice. “Besides, Cheryl … doesn’t dislike you.  She’d probably even be happy with you if you got Betty out of the apartment for something that wasn’t school or work.  You know, like a date?  The thing people ask about when they like someone?”

             Now too nervous to stay still, Betty rushed from the door, clutching her bag to her chest, and fled to the bathroom.  As soon as the door closed behind her, she couldn’t help but clasp her hands together in glee.  She and Jughead had danced around each other for over a year now and the closest they could get to anything called ‘dating’ had been a late-night stake out to see if the Dean of the Journalism school really was moonlighting as a click bait writer for BuzzFeed.

             She breathed deeply to calm her nerves. Try as she might, she couldn’t contain the thrill of hearing that Jughead Jones, the guy she’d been crushing on since freshman orientation, liked her.  Not just liked.  He loved her.  Betty couldn’t help but hug herself.  

             Straightening her shirt and steeling herself to be as forward as she imagined Cheryl would be, Betty stepped out of the bathroom and made her way, once more, to the Blue and Gold office. As she neared the office, Toni emerged and sent her a wink.  

             “Good luck in there, boss,” Toni said with a salute.

             Betty bit down a response and opened the door.   Jughead jumped up as if electrocuted, his face white at the sight of her.  Any other time, Betty would have rushed towards him, asking him twenty different questions to try and figure out why he looked so ill.  Now, though, it was all she could do to keep from smiling.

             “Good evening, Jughead,” she chirped.  

             He stammered a reply and she set her backpack on her desk.  

             “You know what I really love?” she asked, unable to help herself, especially when a faint blush rose to his cheeks.  “Those wontons you got last week.  Where was that from again?”

             “Klump’s Kafeteria,” Jughead said.  “Did you get my article?”

             Betty nodded, disappointed he’d jumped so quickly to business.  “I did. I really love,” she paused, sitting down on her desk and pulling her laptop out, “the way you captured the emotions in your review.  Especially whereyou talk about the mise-en-scene and how well it pulled everything together. It made the recommendation that more meaningful.”

             “Honestly?  I couldn’t stand the movie,” Jughead said.  He rolled his eyes and sat on the corner of her desk.  

             And suddenly, the spell was broken, and her regular, normal Jughead was back in front of her.  She watched his face as he complained about plot pacing and script-incongruities.  Only half paying attention, Betty wondered if he’d finally make a move.   It would be even better, though, if he’d finally notice that she’d been flirting this whole time.

             “Regardless, it was a very well written piece,” Betty said when he’d finished.  “You know what I also love?”

             Jughead raised an eyebrow at her, finally beginning to notice a trend.   “Those weird blue macaroons that taste like Peto-Bismol from Chez Bonuit?”

             She flicked her pen at him and scowled.  “You just have a warped sense of taste after eating all that grease and sugar at Pop’s.”

              “And yet who’s the one also asking me to bring them a strawberry milkshake whenever they find out I’m eating all that grease and sugar?”

             “It’s one of the little things I love you for,” Betty said, slipping it in as casually as she could. “That and the lattes you bring me after a late night editing.”

              Jughead’s eyes flew open and heat bubbled up in her cheeks.  Pressing on, Betty opened up a browser on her computer and turned it to him.

             “I also love, and I hope you will too, that R.R.J. Swift is putting out a new Play of Chairs book next month.”

             His face light up and he crowded in next to her, their faces a few inches from the screen.  “How did I miss this?  There’s no way they could get that to print so quickly.”

             “Everyone in printing was told it was a new Donna Sweet novel,” Betty said, clicking a few times until a different website came up, “so it’s been hush-hush until he broke the news an hour ago.”*

             “Finally, we can see what happens to Trienne of Barth.”

             She elbowed him lightly.  “I can’t believe you still like her after she betrayed Don Ice.”

             “I can’t help it.  I love her storyline,” he shot back, his eyes searching hers.

             Undeterred, Betty thrust out her chin.  “And I love –“

             “Yes, yes, we get it,” Toni said.  “You two are trapped in a bubble of love.”

             They both turned, blushing, to the door.  

             “Sorry to interrupt the futile flirting, but I forgot my notes,” Toni said, walking towards the couch.  She held up a notebook and shook it at them.  “Just kiss her already Jones, or I will.  And since the last time that happened I ended up going to prom with your girlfriend...”

             “She’s right, you know” Betty said when Toni left.

             Jughead cleared his throat.  “About which part?”

             “You should kiss me.”

             “I –“

             Whatever his protestations might have been, Jughead smartly decided to ignore them.  Instead, he leaned towards Betty, who happily met him more than half-way.

             A few months later, when Jughead claimed their first date was at a Play of Chairs release party, Betty couldn’t help but cover a laugh.  She loved that he was technically correct, even if it was only a party of two.

*(No, I do not know how printing works, nor do I care enough to Google this or other characters from the series.  Apologies if I’m wrong.  If I am, just pretend they’re talking about Minecraft.)

#bughead #riverdale #prompt fic

[blookmallow]

Can you do a rating on child animatronics like you did with the clowns

i sure can

welcome to animatronic nightmare preschool

theres a trend ive discussed about spirit before where all their female animatronics tend to be either the “old hag” type, or “creepy little girl” - and now that im thinking about it i actually couldn’t think of any boy characters ive ever seen. i dont know why this is exactly. theres something to analyze there but im not really sure what it is. i found a few but almost ALL of them are little girls. i dont know what to say about this but i did notice it 

there IS a boy in this group though: 

ring around the rosie

enter the ritual 

just some nice kids having a fun time. it may be cliché at this point but i love the “spooky nursery rhyme” trope anyway (and y’know, ring around the rosie was already creepy to begin with. im not sure if the theory that it’s really about the black plague is actually true but its still highly questionable to include the line “ashes, ashes, we all fall down” in a childrens rhyme with no explanation either way) 

for some reason the fact that none of them have hands and its just their sleeves tied together is really funny to me and i dont know why. they also dont have feet and im not sure if its a technical limitation for convenience purposes or if they’re supposed to be little ghost children but it definitely comes across like they’re little ghost children who tied their sleeves together to try to feel like they’re holding hands which is very cute. 10/10 big fan of this one 

i already mentioned harriet hustle in this post, shes fantastic 

angeline

i LOVE this one shes SO cute

i dont really understand how she's supposed to be scary, the description is like "she'll scare the lights out of your guests" or w/e but like, she's just. a kid who can see ghosts. she herself isn't even a ghost. i like her id adopt her i think she'd be a fun addition to a graveyard scene 10/10

abandoned annie

ok technically this one is a doll but im counting her anyway, shes one of my FAVORITE spirit animatronics bc A) i love creepy dolls B) shes cute and most importantly C) her entire fucking face unhinges i need y’all to watch the video on this one its so good 12/10 ive said this before but animatronics that do something completely fucking unexpected are my absolute favorite 

broken girl 

completely batshit. horrifying. shes actually initially standing upright and then snaps backward and screams and the image does not do it justice i highly recommend the video for this one. not much there as a Character but as “really effective way to scare the shit out of someone” its, i would imagine, incredibly effective. 9/10

there’s also menacing molly who looks similar and has the same kind of “facing away from you but then snaps backward” scare but is on a swing and sings “I see dead people, I see ghosts 💖i see the things that hate you the most” before she does her jumpscare which is incredibly funny to me 

double trouble

creepy little girl trope meets creepy twins trope, at first glance i thought this was just like, discount grady twins (which it looks like they also have, in blatant knockoff form. they’re uh, not good) but it looks like their description backstory is that they killed their mother and disappeared with their rumored-insane father so its slightly different. one of their phrases is “daddy says we have to play outside :( he doesnt want any more blood on the floor” and i love it 

they have a pretty good sense of personality and character to them even if its not necessarily groundbreaking. 7/10

ellie hatchet 

i love this one bc so many of the creepy little girl animatronics are just pretty much standing there being creepy but not ellie. she’s fucking DONE with all of you. you come near her she will swing an axe at your face. 6/10 not really a big stand out but i appreciate her undying rage 

lunging lily 

shes spooky. she jumps out at you. thats about it. i dont really have anything to say about this one. that sure is a creepy little girl that jumpscares you. i like that she goes “help me... help me...” before she jumps out but i feel like it would be hard to get the timing right for that to actually work as a lure to make guests curious where the sound’s coming from since most of these are motion activated. anyway 6/10 shes just not very interesting 

johnny punk 

one of the rare boy characters, i have actually seen him in store and just completely forgot about him because he was that uninteresting. he doesn’t really do much and his backstory on site is just like, “He's got a nice house, loving parents and a severe attitude problem.” 

like this isn’t an undead child back for revenge against those who wronged him or a crazed circus runaway or anything. he’s just a bratty kid. hes like a 13 year old who just saw Joker and has decided to make it his entire personality. this comes across less as a threatening figure and more just like some shitty kid who thinks he’s cool. i glanced at the comments on the wiki page and it turns out absolutely everyone hates him which is completely hilarious to me 

2/10 nobody likes you johnny go do your homework and apologize to your mother 

i also found limb eating zombie boy, who is considerably better 

gross. bloody. would probably be pretty effective if you had him like, placed among some boxes or something so people dont see him at first and aren’t expecting him there. pretty standard zombie. i dont have much to say. He’s Fine. 6/10

mommy’s favorite

ive seen this one in the stores several times, I think we have her there now, and i just don’t. get it? she just moves back and forth with the “shhh” gesture and it’s like, ok, she’s vaguely creepy, but what’s going on here. she just says “don’t wake my mommy! she’s been sleeping for a long time!” so i guess the implication is that her mother is dead and she doesn’t understand, which is just sad rather than scary. the description says she makes mommy’s tea just how she likes it with five drops from the special skull bottle, which could imply she killed her mom, which would make more sense as a horror character, but if that’s How Mommy Likes It that implies the mother instructed her daughter to unknowingly poison her, which is horrifying but in a way darker sense than a spooky halloween prop lmfao 

anyway if i have to go digging into descriptions to try to figure out what this character is or what shes supposed to be or anything i just dont feel like its a very effective character design. and i did read it and i still dont really get it. 2/10 i just feel like im missing something here 

anyway there’s a bunch more variations of “scary possessed child” that are all basically the same, so im just gonna close this out with:

swinging skeletal boy 

allo there, guvna 

look at this dapper little victorian child im gonna cry he’s so cute 

he just swings but has this surprisingly endearing soft little voice which COMPLETELY contrasts the weird shit he actually says. hes this precious little skeleton kid with a sweet little voice who goes “your skin is so nice :) can i have it? haha. that’s okay. I’ll take it when you’re sleeping” 

absolutely love animatronics with that “wait WHAT did that thing just say” factor to them i love this guy 11/10 good boy my new son 

i would also like to mention that people are also continuing to dunk on johnny punk in this guy’s comment section too fsadkflj people hate that shitty joker kid so much their hatred has bled into other completely unrelated swinging children

#spirit halloween #spirit animatronics #halloween #halloween animatronics #pinned

[babygirl06301]

When Did Dean Fall In Love With Cas?

tl;dr: S11

I’ve wanted to talk about this since the show ended and the Spanish dub that broke Tumblr came out. So, when did Dean Winchester fall in love with Castiel?

This is entirely my opinion of course, and I know there are some people that will say it was right away or that it never happened at all, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there so other people could tell me their thoughts, too. I’ll probably get off on some tangents here and there, so feel free to send me any Destiel thoughts you’ve got.

Also, it’s worth noting that, to me, there’s a difference between falling in love and actually being in love. I mean, if you’ve fallen in love with someone, every point in your relationship has been a stepping stone to that point, so I guess it’s all abstract, but still. Hence, S11 being my answer to this question.

Keep in mind I’m doing this without the benefit of a recent rewatch, so I may miss some behaviors from Dean that would change a few things.

Warning: sappy stuff ahead; read at your own risk (also crappy images).

S4-5

I don’t think it’s that big of a secret that Dean attached himself to Cas, like, right away. I mean, the dude never talks about his emotions, and yet, it took eight episodes of Cas being around for Dean to break down in front of him and talk about his fears. It’s almost like you could say that’s because they were always meant to fall for each other.

However, I don’t really the think the process of falling in love with Cas had started yet. I do think that Dean cared about Cas, but I don’t think it was anything extremely special. Reason being: it was the literal end times and Dean didn’t have that type of time. That, and I think there’s something to be said for being raised a certain way and believing certain things about yourself that affects how long it takes for you to notice that something has changed. So, yeah. I don’t think Cas had been around long enough at this point for Dean to start feeling anything more than kinship with him.

That’s not to say, though, that Dean didn’t subconsciously find Cas hot or get the warm fuzzies sometimes because:

I mean, come on.

S6-7

So, this era is weird because I do think something had begun to change in how Dean saw Cas, but I don’t think he got to fully begin the process of falling in love with him because: a.) Cas betrayed them and b.) Sam’s head was broken.

I’m gonna say something rude now: I think a lot of the Destiel moments in the beginning of S6 were born of Dean needing Castiel’s abilities as an angel and not of needing Cas. For example, Dean calling on Cas to help with the Staff of Moses or with Soulless!Sam. He was usually pretty demanding and sometimes curt with Cas and got irritable when Cas couldn’t help.

However, I think that Cas always being there despite his battle in Heaven began to shift Dean’s feelings toward him. I do think this change was almost imperceptible, but you can see Dean showing more and more concern for Cas as S6 progresses. Like this:

This is the primary reason I think Dean got so defensive of Cas when Bobby and Sam started suggesting that Cas was working with Crowley. It’s also why he got so hurt when he found out that Bobby and Sam were right.

Here’s my super abstract and vague take on it: he’d started feeling romantic emotions for Cas, but as soon as Cas’s betrayal was revealed, it got replaced with pain. Basically, Dean almost started to fall for Cas in S6, and then the Purgatory storyline interrupted it.

And then Cas died. Which didn’t help.

Here we enter S7, which has fuck all for Destiel content beyond the first two episodes—until Cas comes back. I know some people are going to say not to gloss over the trench coat thing, and fair enough. I think the keeping of the trench coat was akin to Dean trying to hold onto what he did feel for Cas, obviously not consciously. Almost as though Dean could tell he’d lost something special when Cas died, and not just in losing Cas, but in losing part of himself, a part that he didn’t know existed yet. I don’t consider the trench coat to be a sign that Dean was falling in love with Cas but a sign that he was about to or that he could’ve. Is that weak? Whatever.

Now, I do think that some shit got shaken loose when Dean saw Cas again because, for all intents and purposes, he should’ve been pissed. But instead he was... whatever this is:

I still, more or less, think that he was too preoccupied with Sam to really begin falling in love with Cas. I think that’s clear to see in how he treated Cas after he came back into the story for the final battle with the Leviathan. He did give the whole “I’d rather have you” speech, but all the stuff before that was more along the lines of “Nobody cares that you’re broken, Cas! Clean up your mess!” So, yeah.

S8

Okay, so this is where the Purgatory stuff comes in. In the words of the great John Mulaney, “we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” but this is where I believe Dean started falling in love with Cas.

Dean told Sam that Purgatory felt pure because he could only focus on the fight at all times... but he still had the emotional availability to worry about and search for Cas, so...

If I had to pick an exact moment, I’d say somewhere around here:

And thus, rather than just keeping a trench coat when he lost Cas, Dean literally rewired his own memories because he would rather think that he left Cas behind than think that Castiel chose to leave him.

From here, we can start seeing Dean paying attention to Cas more, noticing when he’s not being himself, and more than that, worrying about him in a more personal way. For instance, when Dean insists that Cas talk to him about what’s bothering him in “Hunteri Heroici.” Not to mention, Dean becomes a lot more emotionally vulnerable regarding his feelings for Cas. One example would be when he insists that he didn’t abandon Cas in Purgatory. Another would be, of course:

I would also mark this season as the season Dean’s prayers to Cas become more emotional and, at times, cathartic, as though he’s confiding in Cas. In “Remember the Titans,” for example, Dean prays to Cas to ask him to look out for Sam; the scene reads like Dean is asking for help but is, in equal measure, asking for Cas. This is also the first season an adversary pokes at Dean and Cas’s relationship in a way that specifically targets Dean and his feelings about Cas rather than Cas’s feelings about Dean as it had been before; this would be when Naomi says “You’re hoping Castiel will return to you.”

S9-S10

Well, these seasons are complicated to say the least because of Gadreel and the Mark of Cain. I don’t think, at this point, Dean ever stops feeling what he’s feeling for Cas. However, I do think that a lot of the hiccups throughout S9 and S10 made Dean step away from those feelings.

Of course, Dean is still stressing about Cas 24/7 in the beginning of S9 what with Cas being human, Cas being hunted, Cas dying, Cas working at a Gas-n-Sip—you know, drama. I think when Gadreel said that Cas needed to stay away if Dean wanted Sam to be healed, Dean had to let what he was feeling for Cas go—not that that means he stopped feeling it, mind you. No, I don’t think Dean consciously went, “Well, guess I’m done falling for this dude,” but I think he knew somewhere in his heart that it wasn’t the time.

Now, the Mark of Cain. The storyline that put the characters down on the page once and left them stagnant and unchanging until it was resolved. Now, as you might imagine, slowly turning into a demon that wants nothing but death would put a damper on any relationship. Finding Destiel in the B season for S9 and throughout S10 is hard. Especially on Dean’s end. 

There are moments when you can tell that Dean’s feelings for Cas are still there, and I would say, developing slowly, like the cheeseburger date. Probably the biggest Destiel moment in the entire Mark of Cain stretch is when Dean nearly kills Cas but resists, despite the Mark’s hold on him.

That’s really it, though. No backwards movement, but barely anything trending the opposite way, either.

S11

This is the Big Season™, the one I believe Dean fell in love with Cas in. Now, obviously, it isn’t like Dean lost the Mark, and boom, fell in love with Cas. Plus, there’s the whole pull-to-Amara thing. However, I don’t think falling in love necessarily has to be a big moment; I think it can just happen, and I think that’s what happened with Dean. At some point between the start of this season and Cas being released from Lucifer’s possession, Dean fell in love with Cas.

That being said—if I was really reaching for a moment—I wouldn’t say it happened during a happy scene. I’d say Dean fell in love with Cas when he lost him.

I know that sounds weird, that Dean didn’t fall in love with Cas completely until he realized Cas had been possessed by Lucifer, but in my head, it fits. I think it’s because Dean is so emotionally closed off and tries not to let his emotions show if he can help it that it took knowing that Cas was gone for that last switch to flip in his heart.

So, now Dean is in love with Cas, but Cas is Lucifer. I’d say this has something to do with the fact that, even though Dean is supposed to be attached to Amara, he still calls out for Cas even though Amara is right in front of him.

Considering the fact that Cas comes back in the literal last episode—at least, that’s when Dean realizes he’s back—there isn’t a whole hell of a lot of time to see how being in love with Cas has changed Dean. We do get the “you’re our brother, Cas” scene, but seeing as how that’s pretty inconsistent with everything that comes afterward, let’s just chalk that one up to bad writing and/or Dean being dense.

S12

Alright, so my post should be done, yeah? I’ve answered the question I’ve set out to answer. However, there’s still more to talk about here. When did Dean first sense that what he felt for Cas was different? When did he have an inclination that it was romantic? When did he know for sure?

That’s why we’re here in S12. Now, S12 is the most Destiel-heavy season in the entire series. In my opinion, while it does have many of the best Destiel scenes, it doesn’t have the best Destiel scene. However, as far as number of moments, S12 takes it.

This is where we really get to see how being in love with Cas has changed Dean. Realistically, I think this has a lot to do with S12 being the beginning of the Dabb era because this era marked a change in tone for both Castiel’s character and his relationship with Dean. Dean began to worry about Cas a lot more frequently and, as a result, got mad at him a lot more, too. I see S12 as the season that Dean moved away from simply being worried about losing Cas to being terrified of losing Cas. And that translated into anger any time Castiel put himself in danger. For example, killing Billie. Any other time, the threat of losing Cas translated itself into fear, like when Cas nearly died from being stabbed with the Lance of Michael.

Of course, the mixtape is also in this season, which is another example of how being in love with Cas has affected Dean. I could probably make an entirely seperate and very long post regarding Destiel in S12, but the general idea is that Dean’s newly found love for Cas made a big difference in how he treated Cas.

S13

Alright, S13 stands outs to me because I believe this is when Dean first realized that Cas meant something more to him than a friend and that he felt differently about him than he did about his family. Again, I don’t think that Dean actually thought those exact words, but I think his heart knew them to be true even if he mind didn’t. Reason being: Cas had just died. Which is the first time Castiel has died since Dean fell in love with him. Dean knew he needed Cas, in a way he hadn’t really realized it before. Which is why he demands that Chuck bring him back.

Then Cas comes back, and it’s like Dean forgets what hopelessness and misery are because Cas is his “big win.” After this, honestly, there isn’t much else by way of emotional development for Dean regarding Cas, but I see that as a good thing. It’s a sign that, though Dean hasn’t realized it yet, being in love with Cas is comfortable for him. There are still expressions of concern for Cas’s wellbeing throughout the season, but mostly, we just get to see Dean be content with Cas.

S14

Alright, S14 a.) mostly saw Dean’s feelings much in the same place as they were in S13 and b.) just kidding because Dean tells Cas that he’s dead to him in this season.

To be fair, if we’re talking Destiel, there’s more of it on Castiel’s end this season than there is on Dean’s because Dean is dealing with Michael. There are a couple moments that stand out to me as moments where Dean’s love for Cas comes through: when Cas asks Dean if his plan to trap himself in the Ma’lak Box means that they’re supposed to say goodbye and when Dean confides in Cas about how he’s handling keeping Michael trapped. In the former scene especially, I think it’s clear to see how much the idea of saying goodbye to Cas affects Dean.

And then we get to “Absence,” which is the episode where Dean tells Cas that he’ll be dead to him if Jack killed Mary. Now, going off on a tangent here to explain how this ties into Dean being in love with Cas, let’s talk about when Dean gets mad at Cas.

When Dean gets mad at Castiel, it’s always out of pain. I think that’s a very unique effect that Cas has on Dean that no one else does, and I believe it’s because Dean gets so overwhelmed with the emotion of betrayal that all he can do is push Cas away. Why a feeling of betrayal? Well, in this case, it’s because Cas knew something was wrong with Jack and didn’t say anything. I think that, as Dean fell more and more in love with Cas, his expectations and feelings for him grew, and because of that, when he feels like he’s been let down by Cas, it turns into rage. 

When Dean walks away from Sam, it’s usually because he’s either worried or angry. With Jack, he walked away because of anger, maybe even disgust. But with Cas, it’s always pain; it’s always because Dean feels like he’s been personally betrayed in a way that has nothing to do with worrying about Cas and everything to do with wanting to hurt Cas back. It’s almost a selfish sort of anger, which is actually a positive for Dean’s character since he rarely puts himself first.

To me, the way Dean gets mad at Cas—especially in S14—is so personal and unique that it serves as proof as to why Dean is in love with Cas. So, even though the “then you’re dead to me” line is so damaging, it’s still a result of Dean loving Cas.

S15

Last season. The hardest season by far, for a lot of reasons. I’m not going to get into the lack of closure the ending of this show gave us in terms of Dean and Castiel, and I’m not going to talk about this final season in conjunction with the Spanish dub—just what I, as an English speaker experienced in canon since that’s what was intended in the final cut—but I will talk about everything else. There’s three episodes/points I’m going to hit with this season, and I’m sure we all know them: “The Rupture,” “The Trap,” and “Despair.”

I’ve already discussed why Dean’s anger points to his being in love with Cas, but I think the important thing to note with “The Rupture” is that Dean still didn’t want to lose Cas, even in the moments when he was hurting Cas and pushing him away.

There’s still a couple questions I’ve asked that I haven’t answered yet, and one of them will be answered with “The Trap.” I think this episode—and really, the moment Cas told him he heard his prayer—marks the first time that Dean considered that his feelings might be romantic. I don’t know how clear those thoughts were or if Dean told himself he was wrong afterward, but I do think that that scene was the beginning of possibility for Dean and Cas. Had they had enough time, they would’ve decided to be together, and that scene is where they both really felt it for the first time—even if they didn’t believe the other felt the same way.

I’ll be honest: I really don’t want to talk about “Despair” because it’ll just make me sad. Alas, there is one question that still needs to be answered: When did Dean know that he was in love with Cas?

When it was already too late. Much like in S11, I think it took Dean losing Cas to realize how he felt about him. The difference here is: I think Dean would’ve realized it regardless; hearing how Cas felt about him and then losing Cas just forced it. Had Cas not died, I don’t believe it would’ve been too long before Dean realized it naturally, and that’s the most frustrating thing about this scene is that Dean didn’t have to learn how he felt through the trauma of losing Cas.

I’m not trying to diminish this scene because, had there been closure—and proper editing—I’d say this scene was the perfect avenue for Castiel’s character to go down because it would mean that, when he came back, he could be with Dean.

Again, I’m not getting into the semantics of the final couple episodes or how they handled Destiel because it’ll just make me mad, but I think Dean realizing he was in love with Cas was just as big of a factor in him seeing himself differently as Cas’s speech was. I think Dean wanted to honor Cas by being the person Castiel saw him as; I think Dean wanted to live as a man worthy of being loved by the man he fell in love with.

Anyway, that’s my take on when Dean Winchester fell in love with Castiel based on what canon gave us. As someone who had been very realistic about the possibility of Destiel over the years and had never truly hoped for it in canon because I knew better, I have never been more convinced that Dean is in love with Castiel as I am now, after the show has ended.

I don’t think I can say I believe he was in love with him all along, but I believe that his story, their story, of falling in love is real and true, however long it may have taken. I’ll never say goodbye to these two, but I’m happy that I can at least walk away from this show knowing that they found each other in the end, even if their ending didn’t do justice to their legacy.

Let me know when you think Dean fell in love Cas or vise versa. I’m curious to know what you see in their relationship. I don’t think I’ll be making a post like this for Castiel because, in my opinion, Cas fell in love with Dean rather quickly—his journey was just realizing what that meant. Anyway, thank you for reading this, and thank you for being a part of this twelve year long love story that is Destiel.

#destiel #casdean #cas x dean #dean x cas #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural

[richincolor]

Book Review: Blackout

Title: Blackout

Author: Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany D. Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, and Nicola Yoon

Genres:  Contemporary Romance

Pages: 256

Publisher: Quill Tree Books

Review Copy: Purchased

Availability: Available now

Summary: A summer heatwave blankets New York City in darkness. But as the city is thrown into confusion, a different kind of electricity sparks…

A first meeting.

Long-time friends.

Bitter exes.

And maybe the beginning of something new.

When the lights go out, people reveal hidden truths. Love blossoms, friendship transforms, and new possibilities take flight.

Review: I’m loving the recent trend of YA short story anthologies, so when Blackout was announced I was so excited but also didn’t know what to expect. Anthologies where the stories are connected are not done very often so I was looking forward to seeing what these fabulous authors would create. I will say I was not disappointed.

Tiffany D. Jackson’s “A Long Walk” starts off the anthology setting up how all the other stories link up. Kareem and Tammi, Jackson’s couple, have been broken up for a few months and are together by happenstance when the blackout hits. The way Jackson writes this moment had me laughing because we’ve all experienced the pause of “what just happened?” when thrust into total darkness. After the building they are in is evacuated, the two have to figure out how they are going to get home to Brooklyn and decide to start walking. What we get over the course of the book is akin to a tour of New York City as the two make their way home and rekindle their relationship.

Jackson’s story also serves to connect the characters as the stories also connect in a “six degrees of separation” way. Nic Stone’s story “Mask Off” is a sweet story of crushes and friendship. The story is told by Jacorey “JJ” Harding who is a basketball star who holds a secret, and is on the path to exploring his identity. He is on the subway when the blackout hits with his crush Tremaine, who is Tammi’s younger brother. As Tremaine fights to control his claustrophobia, JJ watches over him and reflects on the times the two have interacted, culminating in a night where JJ and Tremaine connected romantically, but have not seen each other since. The blackout is basically JJ’s second chance with Tremaine and their conversation about being queer and family and basketball is beautiful. I loved the two young men together and I would love to see how their relationship blossoms.

I also loved Ashley Woodfolk’s short “Made to Fit” as that story takes place in a senior home where Nella is visiting her grandfather, Ike, when Joss and her dog Ziggy walk in. I loved the way Woodfolk writes all the seniors and how, just as grandparents do, create a scenario for Nella and Joss to team up to solve a mystery (and to set the two girls up of course!). The story had me giggling with a huge smile on my face and I really loved Nella’s and Joss’s interactions. Nella had been avoiding meeting Joss because her grandfather kept saying the two would be perfect together, which through the course of the story, Nella realizes her grandfather was correct and opens herself up to starting a relationship with Joss.  

I forgot to mention another connection all the stories have. There is a block party in Brooklyn that a character named Twig is hosting that night. Twig is mentioned in just about every story and all the characters, at some point, decide to make their way to the party.

Next up is Dhonielle Clayton’s story, “All the Great Love Stories…and Dust”, which is set in the famous main New York Public Library where best friends Tristan and Lana hide to complete a bet after the library is closed due to the blackout. This friends-to-lovers tale gives us a look into their comfortable relationship where the two push and pull each other. Clayton also effectively used footnotes as asides for Lana’s thoughts as she tries to find the words to tell Tristan that she is in love with him and I loved that technique. I’m not a fan of footnotes, but they brought the story alive to me in a unique way that fit the character perfectly (she’s a huge reader).

The story that cracked me up the most was Angie Thomas���s “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” as the story is told through Kayla’s eyes as she’s on a school trip to New York from Mississippi with her boyfriend and her crush. I loved that an tourist’s view of NYC was included in this collection as we got to experience NYC in a different way. The interactions between the students and the teacher also had me cringing and giggling, while I really felt Kayla’s internal conflict at being with her boyfriend because that is what everybody expects since they’ve been together for so long, versus having someone else see her for who she is now. Being stuck on a tour bus really heightens the emotions and I enjoyed how the drama in a small space played out.

Nicola Yoon’s “Seymour and Grace” finishes out this wonderful collection of shorts with a dual perspective story of a unique meet cute between the two characters. Grace is on her way to Twig’s block party to try to get back together with her ex-boyfriend and Seymour is her ride-share driver. They initially butt heads but after being stuck in traffic, then a car breakdown, the two eventually find they have much in common. It is the perfect story to round out the collection as we get glimpses of the other characters at the party while watching a brand new couple come together.

Overall Blackout was a fun read and a perfect book for summer. I loved all the different ways the stories connected and how they captured the spirit of New York. I cared about all the characters and how their relationships developed so much that I was sad to be leaving their world when I finished the book. I hope any (or all) of the authors would revisit these characters as I would love to know what happens next. This was a great book of the different types of love and for Black love and I’m so glad these six authors came together to create a wonderful set of stories for us to fall in love with ourselves.

#book review #weneeddiversebooks #black love #Book Recommendations #get it now

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Changes Writing Challenge

I love this little nook of Tumblr so much, and I love the people in it who have become my friends. No judgement, the least amount of drama I’ve seen in a while, and just so much encouragement! Huge thanks to each and every one of you for making me feel like I’ve accomplished something whenever I post a fic or series! 

To celebrate hitting 500 followers, I decided to do a little writing challenge. If you saw this post then you know I’ve been making some changes as I have gone through the last year of rediscovering myself. In light of that, all of the twenty prompts below are quotes/from quotes which I have hoarded during this time to keep my spirits up and remind me I’m not alone. First, the boring-but-important stuff. Please read all of the information carefully! 

Rules, Guidelines, Important Dates:

1. Sign-Ups start when this post is live and will go through to June 28, 2021.  2. I will accept one writer for each prompt. If I have to add prompts, I will. 3. Please send your sign-ups to my ask box so they’re easier to keep track of. 4. In your ask, please include your preferred prompt and a backup option. Since I’m only taking one writer per prompt, I’m not worried about your pairing this time around. Also, please let me know if you’ll be posting from a URL other than one you’re asking from. To be included in the challenge masterlist, please post your fic (or the first part, if it’s a series) by June 30, 2021. 5. Please include an author’s note tagging me and mentioning the challenge in your fic post; include #ChangesWC in the first five tags. If the tag doesn’t work, you may DM the link to me, also. If you decide to write a series, please create a masterlist and only tag me in the masterlist. 6. Please give me up to 48 hours to read your fic before checking if I have seen it. If I have not liked it after 48 hours, please DO check. (You know, since we’re all aware of how unreliable tumblr is. And how I can space out at times.) 7.The challenge masterlist will be posted between July 1 and July 4, 2021. 8. There are no word count limits, but please use the Keep Reading feature if your story goes beyond 500 words. Additionally, if your fic goes beyond 5000 words, please consider splitting it into multiple parts. This is not a requirement, only something to think about.  9. You can use your prompt as dialogue, as an inspiration for a scenario, any way you want. If you use it as dialogue or somewhere else within the fic, please make sure it’s in bold text.  10. Because this challenge was inspired by rising up and not letting life get the better of me, I will accept most genres as long as your story has a hopeful ending.  11. For personal reasons, I do not read and will not accept into the challenge stories that include: non-con/dub-con, underage sex, adult-child romantic/sexual relationships, spouse-bashing, child abuse – I could go on, but I think you get the idea. If you’re not sure about something, I’m always happy to answer questions. Whatever you include, please be sure to warn accordingly. 12. Characters and RPFs are welcome.  13.  Bring on the ships, OFC’s, reader pairings, put yourself in the story. Whatever you’d like.  14. I can’t promise that I will read everything. Again, for personal reasons.  15. This challenge is about writing what makes you happy. I have to set some boundaries for (yep, you guessed it) personal reasons, but otherwise, please feel free to go wild with expressing yourself. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask or a message! 

Prompts are below the cut, you know where to send your sign up! Happy Writing! 

1. Change is hard at first, messy in the middle, and gorgeous at the end. 

2. We cannot become what we want by remaining what we are. 

3. If you’ve been brutally broken but still have the courage to be gentle to other living beings, then you’re a badass with a heart of an angel. 

4. If you have an idea you generally think is great, don’t let someone talk you out of it. 

5. How amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the tings that go on in your head. 

6. It’s a strange thing to nourish the thing that could kill you, in the hopes it does not kill you. 

7. I don’t really have a plan. I rely solely on caffeine and weirdness to get me through the day. 

8. You can’t fuck up anything that is meant for you. 

9. You scare people because you are whole all by yourself. 

10. You don’t know how strong you are until years later, you look back and see an incomprehensible survival. 

11. You either say how you feel and fuck it up or say nothing and let it fuck you up instead. 

12. It’s funny, you know? How some people won’t listen until you have nothing left to say. 

13. Sometimes feeling right, after feeling wrong for so long, is the hardest thing to get used to. 

14. You had to be that person to become this one. 

15. Whatever you do, never run back to what broke you. 

16. You don’t know pain until you’re staring yourself in the mirror with tears in your eyes, begging yourself to just hold on and be strong. 

17. Forgive yourself for the survival patterns and trends you picked up while enduring a trauma. 

18. I’m still learning how to go back and reread my own chapters without feeling like I want to set all of my pages on fire. 

19. Healing comes in waves; maybe today the wave hits the rock. You are still healing. 

20. It could take you years to actually face what has happened. And numerous more to overcome it. 

Tags because why not:  @captain-s-rogers  @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @beakami @heartsaved  @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13 @connie326 @whitewolfvibraniumdreams

#changes wc #changes writing challenge #500 follower milestone #change is okay i guess #a queue of armor around the world

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights of A Nindroid

Chapter Twenty-Five

(Previous Chapter Here)

There’s something slightly extra angsty in Zane’s section... try and see if you can figure out what ;)

Also oh my god I hate politics this is going to suck-

Kai groans as he stares at his computer. “This is a lot harder than I thought…” he mutters to himself, closing his eyes for a moment.

But he quickly shakes his head, returning to the computer. Zane needs him! It doesn’t matter what he has to do or how exhausting it is, he needs to save him.

Politics are the absolute worst, but this was Kai’s idea, so he’s going to have to suck it up and keep going.

Right now, he’s looking into how Lloyd can start running on the ballot: there are two main political parties, and if they want to stand even a chance of getting him elected, they’re going to need to find a way to get him on one.

The current Emperor- or in this case, Empress- is called Harumi, and she’s running again on the political party Monocrean. So the other political party, Arosticarist, will-

Kai mutters a quiet curse as he reads the next line. Damn it.

Someone is already running on the ballot.

His name is… Rune Duncan, apparently. Huh. Kai’s never heard of him, but he’s never really been all that invested in politics.

But if they already have someone running, there’s no way that Lloyd could get in!

Grinding his teeth, Kai shakes his head. No, no, no! They’ve come so far!

With a huff, he gets to his feet, grabbing a jacket and heading out. His house arrest had ended the other day, so thankfully he can go to Borg Tower without breaking any laws.

It doesn’t take him long to find Sentry, who’s talking to some weird blond. But when Kai tries to get into the room…

The automatic door won’t open.

Why does technology hate him so much? What did he ever do to make technology work against him?

“So how has your paper been coming along?” The nindroid general prompts, not seeming to have noticed him.

"Pretty well, actually!” The blond chirps. “But there's still so much I want to learn here, so it may end up being twenty something pages long-"

Finally, Kai manages to get the door open. Ignoring the other guy, he goes up to Sentry. “We have a problem.”

Sentry frowns. “... well hello to you too.” He pauses a moment before adding, “What’s wrong?”

Wasting no time, he cuts to the chase. “Did I tell you about the new plan? Rescuing Zane by making Lloyd Emperor?”

He gets a head shake in response. “No, but it’s all over the news, so I kinda figur- wait, that’s why you’re doing it?”

Annoyingly enough, Kai can’t answer, because the other guy there decides to speak up. "Hey, haven't I seen you trending on Chirp? You're that, uh, Kia guy."

“The name’s Kai, actually.” He corrects. “Look, I don’t know what you do here, but I’ve got something kind of important going on, and I think you should go do something else.” He makes a gesture for him to leave, but Sentry shakes his head, looking mildly annoyed.

“Actually, no, he works here and I was talking to him.” The nindroid general argues. “He can keep working while we talk.”

The blond gives him a smug look, and Kai makes sure to shoot him a glare before continuing on with his point.

“Okay, fine, whatever.” He agrees. “We’re having Lloyd run for Emperor so that he can have the authority so get Zane out of there.”

Sentry nods. “And Cryptor, right?”

Kai feels his frustration building again. “Yeah, him too. Not the point. The issue is that there’s already someone running on both ballots. We need to find a way to get him on one.”

The blond speaks up again. “Have you asked any of them if Lloyd could join them?" He prompts.

“Wh- no.” Kai scoffs. “No, we haven’t, because...“ He stops as he realizes that that might actually be a good idea. “... well. That might work, I guess?”

Sentry shakes his head with a grimace. “No politician gets this far by being nice.” He points out. “They wouldn’t let Lloyd join unless we have a good excuse for them to consider it.”

"Well, there's loads of good reasons and excuses.” Kyle returns. “Blackmail, mainly, has been proven to be… useful."

Kai stares at him for a minute, trying to process what the hell he’s talking about. Blackmail? Seriously?

Eventually, he turns back to Sentry. “... so these are the kind of people you hire here, huh?”

The blond scowls at him, crossing his arms. "I mean, you haven't contributed much yourself. I'm just saying, this could be a possibility."

With a snort, Kai shakes his head. “Yeah, but that’s a little thing we like to call illegal.” He reminds.

“Has that really stopped you so far?” Sentry looks disapproving as he speaks. “How many laws have you broken already?”

A sputtering noise escapes him as he tries to come up with a defense. “Aggravated assault is one thing, blackmail is completely different!”

It only registers that the former is actually worse when he gets a look from the nindroid general.

His face starts to heat up as he crosses his arms, trying to find a way to play it cool. “Why are you trying to convince me to break more laws?” He argues. “Weren’t you just trying to get me to stop?”

“I’m not trying to get you to commit more, I’m trying to point out how bad the ones you’ve already committed are!” Sentry seems to be at his wits end.

As Kai’s about to respond, he notices the blond stifling a laugh of some kind. Frustration wells up inside of him again, and he turns to glare at him.

“Something funny?” He snaps.

The blond smirks. "Nothing for you to worry about."

Kai opens his mouth to snark back, but Sentry speaks up before he can.

“Okay, we’re done here.” The nindroid general pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kai, why don’t you brainstorm with your team to come up with an ethical way to convince them to let Lloyd join. Kyle, please don’t antagonize him- I know he’s annoying, but-“

“Wh-“ Kai fumbles for an argument against that. “He started it!” He snaps.

Sentry gives a tired sigh, but Kyle is soon talking. "Please, Sentry.” He gives Kai a wide, plastic smile. “We're like best friends now!"

Sucking in a deep breath, Kai resists the urge to do something that would probably get him banned from Borg Tower for life. Instead, he forces a strained smile. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He agrees tightly. “Just stop talking.”

Groaning, Sentry shakes his head “Could you at least pretend to be polite?” He pleads.

Huffing, Kai crosses his arms again. “Like I said: he started it.”

He notices the blond- Kyle, had Sentry said?- typing something on his phone. After a moment, he stops, and Sentry sighs again, glancing at him.

“Kai.” He looks the brunet dead in the eyes. “Go back to the Bounty. I’ll try to come up with some things on my end, but you should keep working on yours.”

Flashing the blond another glare, he gives in. “Fine, I’ll leave.” After getting the words out and turning towards the exit, he pauses. He doesn’t like what he’s about to do, but Zane would probably want him to be polite, if he were still here…

Quietly, he mumbles, “... thanks for the advice, I guess.”

He can hear the smug grin in Kyle’s voice. "That? Oh, that was nothing, you're very welcome."

Sucking in a deep breath, Kai heads out, back to the Bounty.

It’s time to do some research on this Rune Duncan.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Zane stares blankly at his handcuffs, staying silent as he walks.

As of late, Kyle and occasionally a guard will take him out of his locker and walk him around, most likely to prevent any of his joints from locking up after having been caged away for so long.

Still, the logical reasoning behind it doesn’t make the way he’s taken around by a chain on his cuffs like a dog on a leash any less humiliating.

After a while, Kyle speaks up. “How are your ankles?” He prompts. “They look fine, they didn't lock up once this time."

The words make Zane instinctively glance down at his feet. “I’m functioning normally.” His voice has a very bitter note to it as he speaks. “Nothing’s currently locking up.”

"Good.” Kyle smiles- and not even a psychopathic one. “That's awesome."

There’s silence for a long minute as they walk, but Zane doesn’t speak. He just stares downwards numbly and waits to be addressed.

There’s a part of him screaming at the injustice of it all, at the way he’s being treated and the humiliation he’s been forced to endure. But the vast majority of it simply… doesn’t care.

This is happening to him whether he resists or not, so why should he keep fighting? It never makes a difference, and he’s been fighting for so long that he just… wants a break. To be able to rest. He’s so tired of all of this, and it feels so much easier to simply give in to their whims.

After a few more moments, Kyle speaks up.

"...Kai passed by, today.” He comments. “Talked about politics." As he speaks, he seems to be studying him carefully.

Zane tiredly glances up, not enough to make eye contact. He doesn’t know whether to believe the words, but it doesn’t really matter if he does. Having an actual verbal conversation is a form of relief, and Zane will gladly take this chance.

“That’s interesting.” He comments quietly. “Did he mention me?”

There’s a low chuckle. "He did, actually! He's still trying to get both of you out, somehow.” Kyle smiles as he shakes his head. “Good to know some things don't change."

Some things never change, huh? Just like the torturous routine in this facility.

A tired sigh escapes him as he looks off to the side. “Yes, good to know,” he agrees in a dull tone.

"I'm actually surprised at how little you care about him, now.” The blond continues to walk alongside him, thankfully not randomly tugging on the chain like he had done in times past. “I mean, it was never real emotions, but it's weird not hearing you ask desperately about him like before."

Zane feels himself tense up. “They are real emotions.” He growls out under his breath.

Kyle suddenly stops, making Zane stumble at the unexpected pause. "Zeroes and ones. It's the only real thing about them." He reminds, stepping in close. "You better remember that."

Refusing to look up, it gives a weak nod. “I’ll remember…” he agrees, hating how little life is left in his voice as he speaks.

"Good.” Kyle has a satisfied smile on his face. “Let's go." He prompts, starting to walk again.

Zane dutifully follows, cursing himself for how easily he’s begun to give in. There wasn’t even a real threat this time, he had simply given in of his own accord.

His days are numbered.

At the realization, he stops in his tracks, feeling himself begin to tremble, fear taking a cold grasp over him.

Kyle stops beside him, raising an eyebrow in a way to demand answers.

He finally manages to look up, to look Kyle in the eyes. His voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks a simple haunting question.

“... what do you plan to do with me?”

There’s a brief pause before Kyle answers him. It seems that he doesn’t quite understand what Zane’s getting at.

"Break you.” He says bluntly, seeming almost confused by the question. “I thought it was obvious."

Zane manages to shake its head. “No, I know that.” He agrees. “But… after that. When you’ve won. What will become of me?”

The question sets dread seeping through him as his mind comes with worse and worse possibilities of what he may be made to do.

Kyle frowns, seeming to be pondering the question. "...We could use extra engineers for weapons no one in their right mind would agree to build." He decides.

Confusion momentarily takes place of the dark feeling inside. “... you were upset that someone had died because of me, but you would use me to create things to kill others?” He questions.

Kyle’s voice is quiet and almost threatening. "...Gavin was the only thing I cared about. Still is. Now…" He looks over at Zane, and he can see the bitter darkness in his eyes. "...Now the world can burn, for all I care."

After taking a moment to process the words, Zane gives a soft nod and looks back down. “Thank you.”

He can feel Kyle’s confusion. "For what?" The blond questions.

“Answering.” Zane says simply. “I… I do not want to build weapons, but I… I’m glad to at least know what my future will be before I…” He trails off.

Before he no longer cares.

There’s a bitter laugh from the blond. "Not like you have a choice." After a pause, he sighs. "I feel like I'm being way too nice to you again."

Zane stays quiet, unsure of what to say. He keeps his eyes cast downwards as he waits for further instruction.

There’s a dark pause for a moment before Kyle roughly yanks on the chain connected to his cuffs. "Walk." He orders.

Zane stays silent as he does what he’s told.

There are no words left for it to say.

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago fanfiction #psychological torture #torture #trauma

[panharmonium]

more rambling re: that last post (+ the merlin/will fic survey overview)

because i generally refrain from reading fic while i’m actively writing for a fandom, the only real ao3 reading i have done for merlin is my survey of the merlin/will ship tag.  and the only reason i undertook that survey in the first place is because while i was doing an introductory cruise of the various merlin tags during my first exploration of the fandom (after i finally finished S5 and was able to start looking into fandom dynamics without fearing spoilers), i noticed that a LOT of the fic tagged with this ship was also tagged merlin/arthur, and despite the fact that i personally am more interested in gen stuff, i started to get both suspicious and annoyed about what i was seeing.  but i also wanted to have the data to back up my annoyed feelings, so i made a little spreadsheet for myself and then just filled it in whenever i had time to kill and wanted something to do. 

the data, when i eventually finished, backed up my annoyance pretty much as well as i expected, which was disappointing, but not surprising.

to clarify - i’m not annoyed by the fact that will and merlin don’t have a whole lot of material in their ship tag.  will only showed up directly in one episode; i don’t expect him to be a popular subject.  what i AM annoyed by is the fact that there are actually more merlin/arthur fics in the merlin/will tag than there are fics that actually focus on...merlin/will.  by, like - an extreme margin.

(the rest of this is just me griping about fandom trends.  popping it under a cut so folks can just move on with their days if this isn’t relevant to their interests.)

The Numbers

two quick notes before i get into the nitty-gritty:

1) i originally did this survey a few months ago, but i updated it this week with fics that have been added since then, so the numbers are current.  

2) some of the data below would probably vary slightly depending on who was conducting the survey, so there’s a bit of wiggle room in either direction.  the criteria i had to use [aka what counts as just a ship ‘mention’ vs actual content] would be subject to reader interpretation, obviously, but even with that, i do feel that most stories fell into pretty clear categories.)

so, without further ado -

total # of fics in the ship tag: 145

number of fics that are inappropriately tagged (meaning either will himself or merlin/will as a ship does not actually appear [which is kind of bizarre, but which i saw happen surprisingly frequently], OR where there is only a brief reference to will or past!merlin/will and that’s the extent of their inclusion: 50

number of fics that are duplicates of works already in the tag (ie podfic), or (in one case) a meta podcast about the show: 5

so, that brings down our total number of fics with some sort of actual merlin/will content to 90.

of these 90 works, only 17 of them are actually focused on merlin/will.  

everything else in will’s ship tag, including the 54 works from the previously discussed "incorrectly tagged” category, is either a) fic where will is dumped, broken up with, or otherwise passed over in favor of arthur (and very occasionally gwaine, at least once mordred, once percival, once arthur and gwaine in a threesome, and once CENRED, which i’m sure will would be especially thrilled about), or b) fic where will is only included as a previous/ex relationship (again, almost always in lieu of arthur).  

moreover - of the 17 actual merlin/will fics, 7 still end with will dying or the relationship ending for reasons other than him being passed over for arthur.  an additional 4 are <1000 word PWP snippets, generally written for old LJ summer pornathons, one of which still somehow manages to be...you guessed it - all about arthur. 

in terms of actual one-shots/full fics where merlin/will is the endgame/non-dead pairing, there are only 6 stories.  

i repeat: will gets six earnest stories, IN HIS OWN SHIP TAG.  

i repeat once again: will, in a non-dead, endgame form, gets 4% of his own ship tag.

The Content

the in-fic trends are frustrating, if you actually like this character.

the asshole.  will is an abusive boyfriend.  he is a jealous ex. he’s a shitty friend.  he’s a stalker.  he’s manipulative.  he’s emotionally abusive.  he’s physically abusive.  he dumps merlin for someone else.  he cheats.  in one fic he’s so mad at merlin that he outs merlin’s magic to arthur.  in multiple fics, i watched him literally go off the rails and try to murder somebody.

the fuckbuddy. they’re just messing around, guys!  no, of course it’s not serious!  they just do this for fun!  of course there’s nothing to get in the way of arthur’s inevitable arrival!  no sirree!

the unrequited.  will is actually in it deep for merlin, but merlin doesn’t feel the same.  this does not, however, prevent merlin from using will for sex, companionship, comfort, distraction, etc - until arthur shows up, when will either steps aside in deference to merlin’s all-consuming passion for arthur or is dropped like a hot potato.

“not even will.”  that sentence.  over and over again.  merlin had never felt like this before, not even with will.  nobody had ever understood merlin like this, not even will.   even in fic when they were like.  married.  or engaged.  fanon arthur pendragon must be truly mind-blowing, y’all.

dead long-term relationship.  will was merlin’s husband/fiancé/long-term partner.  now he is Dead.  merlin getting together with arthur is what allows merlin to Heal.  (these stories sometimes contain some variation of “not even will,” as discussed above.)

lastly, in a related phenomenon:

who are you and what have you done with arthur pendragon???   i suppose in a way it’s nice to know that will isn’t the only one who gets the OOC treatment, but it is still really...something, to read fic where will is twisted into an unpleasant, abusive, canon non-compliant version of himself, and then to see arthur, on the very same page, transformed into a gentle, solicitous, kind, caring, equally canon non-compliant angel.  fanon!arthur is more worried about merlin’s well-being than literally anyone i have ever seen.  he is so invested in merlin’s emotional health.  he is so concerned about merlin’s boundaries.  he says things to merlin that no version of arthur pendragon has ever - EVER - in any universe, thought about saying to anybody.  he wants to hear all about merlin’s problems, and he’s all about taking it slow and making sure merlin feels comfortable and loved and worthy and safe (from all that horrible stuff done by that horrible other guy; that must’ve been so hard, merlin; ‘it’s okay, i’ve got you now’) - the man is utterly unrecognizable.  and you know what?  it’s okay!  it is fine to make your characters as OOC as you want.  it is fine to make them better/nicer than they were in the canon.  sometimes we all want that, right?  it’s fanfic!  have a ball.  i will never tell anyone to stop writing what they like, and i will NEVER interact negatively with a fic i don’t care for.  EVER.  do not do this, people - click the back button and move on with your life.   but i reserve the right to be annoyed, in my own space, about a persistent trend of will and arthur’s canon functions being flat-out reversed, in service of merlin/arthur.  not in the sense that canon!will is particularly gentle or sweet, because that’s not the case - but in the sense that will, in canon, is the one who actually cares about merlin’s best interests, whereas arthur is, quite frankly, the ass. a lovable ass (sometimes).  but an ass nonetheless, and one whose relationship with merlin is, from start to finish, an unhealthy, oppressive mess.

The Point

the point of me typing this up is not to say that what people choose to write is bad or wrong.  this is fanfic!  you can write whatever you want.  you can make characters as OOC as you want.  you can create as many AUs as you want.  i don’t mind fic authors writing stuff i don’t personally care for; someone else probably loves those stories!  and i am never going to interact negatively with anything i don’t personally enjoy - i am going to let people continue to have fun in their own ways, and i am going to grumble about my frustrations in my own space, and then i’m going to direct my energy into writing stuff i would personally like to read.

the point is just that i needed a brief second to complain, on my own blog, about my most familiar bbc merlin nemesis (otherwise known as ‘single-ship ubiquity’).  and what i mean by this is that it is REALLY FRUSTRATING that other little relationships are not even granted the tiniest concession of owning their own ship tags, in a fandom that is already so SATURATED with merlin/arthur content.  like - even if i’m generous and use the number 17 for the number of actual merlin/will fics in the tag, that still means 88% of will’s ship tag is actually fic about merlin falling in love with people who aren’t will (*cougharthur*).  eighty-eight percent!  of his own ship tag!  

(to put it another way - the ship tag isn’t supposed to be where you go to watch your character get repeatedly dumped or left behind for someone else, okay?  it’s supposed to be literally the opposite of that.)

will’s ship tag is already tiny.  and almost all of it belongs to arthur.  moreover, a significant chunk of it uses will as a convenient villain (completely contradicting every canon aspect of his characterization), when in the actual story will dies to protect arthur (who he doesn’t even like) and then lies to save merlin (at the expense of his own reputation, and despite the fact that he personally thinks merlin returning to camelot is a bad idea).  his behavior in canon is selfless, and wholly committed to merlin’s welfare, and yet in his ship tag he gets treated like trash.  

the kid can’t catch a break.  and it’s such a pervasive thing that even though i personally am primarily interested in merlin and will as friends (i am pretty romance-averse in general when it comes to media, and i have never written anything that isn’t gen, for any fandom, ever, in my life), i am also so indignant on will’s behalf that i’ve basically become invested in the well-being of this ship as a matter of principle.  it’s not my main thing, and it’s not necessarily how i view the canon-verse, but i am SO IRRITATED about how virtually all of will’s shipfic has been taken over by merthur (and about how maligned will is in his own tag) that i have actively committed myself to supporting merlin and will together in as many AUs as possible.  

(this is basically like when i trained myself to love allison argent after teen wolf killed her off.  i did that out of spite, y’all.  it’s the principle of the thing.)

so, y’know.  all i am saying is that i think will deserves his share of happy endings, and i think it would be nice to see fics where he is not just a stepping stone on the road to merthur or an unrecognizable parody of himself.

more importantly - EVERY merlin ship deserves to have a tag that isn’t completely swallowed by the local fandom behemoth.  merlin/arthur already owns three quarters of the archive.  a gargantuan oil tanker like that can afford to let the little rarepair canoes float down their own streams in peace.

#tl;dr version: #GIVE MERLIN AND WILL THEIR OWN FICS 2K20 #I WILL NOT REST UNTIL THIS INJUSTICE HAS BEEN ADDRESSED #(y'all think i am kidding but i have already walked the walk ok) #(i am currently the internet title-holder for 'most words dedicated to this relationship') #(it might be the platonic version but if you don't think i will stretch myself and try something new) #(then you underestimate just how aggravated i am) #(and just how much i want this kid to get everything he deserves) #the once and future slowburn #no kings no masters #fandom

[cozy-the-overlord]

Crimson Curls

Summary:  A barista at the Avengers Tower coffeeshop goes missing. Her boyfriend, prominent Avengers engineer Michael Hauer, headlines a desperate campaign to find her, aided by the support of Tony Stark and the rest of the super-powered team. But as Hauer’s narrative begins to unravel, it becomes clear that a certain Asgardian prince knows more than he’s telling.

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 3: Solace

Previous Chapter |

Word Count: 4,281

A/N:  Final chapter! Hope you like it :) Thank you so much for reading!

TW: domestic violence

Read it on Ao3

“Oh, did I mention that I finally convinced my mom to buy a smartphone?” Elaine was chuckling. “She just discovered the world of emojis. Every text I get from her is immediately followed by like twenty different happy faces!”

Laughter erupted up around the small table. Kristine found herself giggling too, despite herself. She almost hadn’t come tonight. She didn’t think the others had expected her to come, either: Curt had invited her with a nervous sort of hesitance that gave her plenty of room to back out.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to come. We totally understand.”

The excuses had bubbled to her lips in an instinctual panic—I can’t, I have plans, I’m not feeling well—but she clamped down on her tongue before they spilled out. Her therapist was always telling her that the only way she could take back control of her life was to trust herself to control it. So, Kristine swallowed her insecurities and smiled at her coworker.

“I’d love to. What time?”

It hadn’t been a perfect night. Old habits die hard, and Kristine found herself looking over her shoulder more often than not. Every time, she’d turn back to the table, feeling stupid. What did she expect to see? Michael lurking behind the bar in his orange jumpsuit? Her fellow baristas had to notice—if there was one thing that this whole ordeal had taught her, it was that she was incapable of subtlety—but they were kind enough not to say anything.

It had been fun, though—more fun than she had expected. Kristine hadn’t realized how little she knew the people she worked alongside. She found herself learning all sorts of things. Curt played rugby on the weekends. Kristine hadn’t even known rugby was a thing in America, but apparently he was in an amateur league right in New York, and went straight to practices after work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Tasha was a self-titled crazy cat lady, with five felines living with her in her small apartment. She passed around her phone with pictures of the newest kitten, a tiny orange fluffball named Tigger. Elaine was locked in a never-ending struggle with her 63-year-old mother to “introduce her to the 21st century.”

At first, Kristine had felt guilty that she didn’t have any captivating stories to contribute to the conversation. Her only hobby was her art, and there wasn’t much to say about that. I draw people when I’m bored. Certainly nothing compared to Curt’s gripping account of how his friend fractured his neck in a game two weeks ago. But there was no pressure for her to add anything, and slowly, Kristine relaxed, content just listening to the chat.

The couple at the table across from them caught her eye towards the end of their meal. They had been whispering to each other ever since they sat down, looking back and forth between Kristine and their phone screen. She stiffened as they gestured towards her. Getting recognized in public… that was a thing she still couldn’t wrap her head around. She didn’t understand why seeing her made people so excited… it wasn’t like she was a singer, or an actress, or some other type of celebrity. She was just… her. Normal. No different than anybody else she passed on the sidewalk.

Kristine tried to ignore the excited couple and turn back to the conversation, but it was hard with the tell-tale clicking of a cell phone camera to her right. She closed her eyes. Just ignore them. Just ignore them.

The camera shutter soon caught the attention of the others, however. Elaine stopped what she was saying and turned to glare at the other table.

“Hey!” she snapped at the couple. Kristine jumped at the sudden shout. “Knock it off! She doesn’t want pictures!”

The two were stricken. Mumbling an apology, they turned back to their dinner.

“Thanks,” Kristine murmured, eyes downcast. It seemed she couldn’t go anywhere these days without being interrupted by someone. She couldn’t imagine how annoying that must have been for those she was with. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Elaine said. “It’s not your fault that people act like dumbasses around famous people.”

Famous people.

Kristine wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Should she be upset that the whole world seemed to know every intimate detail of her broken life, or should she be honored that they cared? Because they did care—that was maybe the most shocking part of it all. Once she woke up in April, after the whirlwind of finding herself in the Loki’s penthouse room and getting examined by the Avengers’ private doctor team and being interviewed by police investigators for hours, she finally looked at the Twitter hashtags that had been trending while she slept. It was… surreal.

Just saw the news about the blood in the apartment and I’m crying. I want her to be alive so badly, but I don’t think she is anymore. Please, @NYPD, don’t let this monster get away with her murder. #ArrestMichaelHauer #WheresTheBodyMichael? #JusticeForKristine

He controlled her, abused her, and tried to blame her for her own disappearance. Do NOT let him get away with it. #ArrestMichaelHauer #WheresTheBodyMichael? #JusticeForKristine

She’s such a beautiful girl. I hope they find her and that the boyfriend gets what he deserves. #JusticeForKristine

There were thousands of them. Thousands, and not a single handle she recognized. Perfect strangers, rushing from across the country to fight for her.

When Loki had returned with tea, he had found her in tears.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked, rushing to her side by the computer.

Kristine shook her head. “There’s just so many,” she whispered. “I never thought there would be so many!”

After the announcement was made that she had been found, alive and well, she thought the support would stop, but the floodgates had only just been opened. She started getting messages addressed directly to her, from tweets that read like letters to actual letters in the mail. Kristine had never gotten a letter in her life, and yet here she was having to open a special PO box because of all the mail coming into Avengers Tower addressed to her.

She got letters from people who followed the case, people who were so relieved to find that she was okay that they had to let her know. There were people she had never met, writing to tell her that she was beautiful and talented and deserved so much better than the likes of Michael. There were people writing to tell her that they hoped she knew that they would always support her, even if they could never understand what she had been through.

And then there were the people who understood exactly what she had been through. Some days, she found herself reading stories from women she didn’t know that read like pages from her own diary. Kristine had always been aware that she wasn’t the only person with a significant other like Michael—she had seen the PSA’s on television, she knew the words “domestic violence”—but somehow, she had always felt like the only one. Who else in real life was foolish enough to get into such a situation, and who else was weak enough to stay? But there were others.

So many others.

Those letters were overwhelming in a completely different way.

Kristine hid them all away, in a cardboard box underneath her bed in her Avengers Tower apartment. She had been staying there ever since she woke up: Mr. Stark had insisted. She had never really liked Tony Stark. He was fun to draw, because his face was so recognizable, but to her, that was where his merits always ended. Maybe it was because he adored Michael so much: every party she went to, he made a point of telling her how lucky she was that she snagged such a talented man. He provoked a deep bitterness in her chest, masked only by her anxiety. Kristine never had any doubts that if it came down to her word against Michael’s, Mr. Stark wouldn’t even bother to hear her out.

She couldn’t believe it when Loki told her Stark had fired Michael. He had done it early on, too: before the blood and the knife had even been discovered.

“The phone calls?” she whispered hoarsely. “That’s all it took?”

Loki looked at her sideways. “Those calls were horrific,” he said. “He’d have to be soulless not to terminate him after hearing them.”

And then, when she realized that she would have to find a new place to live now that Michael was in jail, Mr. Stark insisted that she stay at the Tower, at least until she found a suitable apartment elsewhere. He told her to consider it his way of apologizing.

“But—you don’t have to—to apologize for anything, sir,” she stuttered, unable to look him in the eye.

Mr. Stark was adamant. “This whole shitshow comes back to me. I hired him, I hired you, he met you because of it. Matchmaker, remember?” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, it all comes back to me.”

Kristine wasn’t so sure of that, but she was touched by his guilt. He had even offered to send his Iron Legion to retrieve her stuff for her, but she elected to do that herself, with Loki. There wasn’t much to retrieve: clothes, art supplies, little bits and baubles she had taken with her when she moved to New York.

She froze in the doorway when they first walked in. The floor was as clean as ever, and yet in her mind she could still see the sticky red trail, the sickly warmth seeping down her shirt. It had taken a minute to process that all that blood had been coming from her.

Loki squeezed her hand gently. “If you’d prefer,” he murmured into her hair, in a voice just barely loud enough for her to hear, “You don’t have to go in. Just tell me what you wish to fetch, and I’ll take care of it.”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “No. No. I’m—I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Still, the events of that night played out in her head as she made her way through the apartment. How Michael had been ordering that she quit her job at the coffeeshop. He had been wanting her to quit for a while now, convinced that she was constantly flirting with other men while he was at work. If she loved him, he said, she’d prove it by doing this one thing for him.

Kristine refused. Honestly, her resolve surprised herself. At this point, she had learned that the only way to keep the peace was to cave to Michael’s wishes, but this demand stirred something in her. The barista job was the last thing she had left, the only thing he couldn’t touch. She told him he couldn’t make her quit even if he killed her for it.

She had regretted the words immediately. He lunged at her with wild eyes, that vein popping in his neck. When she tried to call Loki, he ripped the phone from her hands and flung her into the coat rack.

Kristine had scrambled into the kitchen area. She had grabbed the knife in a panic, some half baked idea of defending herself, but he was on top of her before she had time to think, shouting at her and wrestling for the handle.

And then it was in her.

She didn’t feel it go in. Even after it went in, it wasn’t that bad—just a dull stinging in her abdomen that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. She looked down slowly, dazedly, reaching out to grip the handle buried in her stomach. Michael looked down too, mouth agape. Kristine remembered thinking that he looked like a fish.

She wasn’t sure how she got back into the hallway floor, but Michael was yelling at her again.

“What the fuck were you thinking, going for the knife? Are you fucking insane?”

She was breathing hard, and it hurt more with every breath, sending shockwaves of pain through her body. Blood was dripping down her front. Her blood, she recognized dimly.

That was the scene Loki had arrived at. She didn’t remember much after that.

That moment ensnared her as she stuffed shirts into her ratty old suitcase. Loki didn’t talk about what he saw much, but it was clear from what he did say that he was certain Michael meant to kill her. She supposed she couldn’t blame him—had she seen what he saw, she probably would have drawn the same conclusion. But as it stood, Kristine wasn’t so sure. Maybe he would’ve finished her off, had her Asgardian knight in shining armor not come to rescue her, but she couldn’t forget his shocked fish face recoil when the blade pierced her stomach.

“What were you thinking Kristine?”

Why was she so hung up on this? What did it matter what Michael might’ve done if given the chance? The only important thing was what he did do: he hurt her, he manipulated her, he stabbed her. Wasn’t that enough?

It was enough for him to be arrested. Or… remain arrested, she guessed. Of course, the murder charge was dropped once it was proven that no murder had taken place, but police were quick to smack him with attempted murder and numerous charges of assault and battery. News outlets were constantly reaching out for comment, but Mr. Stark shut them all down for her.

“Ms. Ververs has been through a very traumatic experience,��� he said at a press conference. “She has no desire to comment on anything at the moment, and we at Avengers Tower would greatly appreciate it if you all stopped pestering her.”

“Well, Kris, it looks like you’ve made it,” Agent Romanov said to her as they watched coverage from the television in the penthouse. “You’ve got Tony Stark acting as your PR. You can either celebrate or be extremely concerned.”

Kristine forced a laugh. Out of all her new super-powered roommates, the Black Widow was easily the most intimidating. Still, she seemed to like Kristine for some reason. Actually, all of the Avengers seemed to like her. Dr. Banner seemed to enjoy striking up quiet conversation with her, completely unbothered by her inability to get a coherent sentence out when she was nervous. Captain Rodgers was impressed by her artwork, always ready with some new compliment that made her day. Thor never failed to greet her with a smile.

Kristine was pretty sure they were just being nice because they felt bad for her, but she decided not to let it bother her. It made her feel nice too.

They were all outraged on her behalf when Michael took a plea deal. He plead guilty to attempted murder in the second degree in exchange for all other charges being dropped and was sentenced to seven years in prison.

“Seven years,” fumed Loki when the news broke. “He could have killed you, and he only gets seven years. It’s ludicrous.”

Despite popular opinion, Kristine was relieved. If Michael had pled innocent, there would have been a trial. She would have had to sit on the witness stand and face him down as she attempted to tell her story in front of dozens of eyes. Seven years was more than enough for her.

The check was paid, and the group made ready to leave, still laughing and telling stories as they walked through the door. Avengers Tower was only a short walk up the street, so Kristine said her goodbyes and started on her way. She never really went out much after the sun set. It was strange to think that even cloaked in night, the city still was wide awake. The night air sent shivers up her bare arms, but Kristine didn’t mind. She was wearing short sleeves a lot more these days, now that she didn’t have to worry about covering up bruises. It was freeing, in a strange sort of way.

Kristine noticed one of her missing posters taped to the stoplight while she waited to cross the street. The ink had mostly been washed away by recent thunderstorms, but she could still make out the outline of her face, grinning awkwardly at the ground.

It was a really awful picture they decided to plaster across the country. Michael had taken it, the morning after the first night they spent together. Her hair was a complete mess (but then when was it ever not?), and she had that uncomfortable photo smile she wore in every picture ever taken of her. She wasn’t even looking at the camera!—why on Earth had they chosen that one?  

She glanced around for a moment. When she saw that no one was looking, she ripped the poster from the pole and crumpled it into her purse. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. She hadn’t been missing for nearly half a year now, no reason to keep them up anymore. Still, Kristine crossed the street with the feeling in her stomach that she had committed a capital offense.

If her mother could have seen her now, she would have been laughing. Diana Ververs never understood her daughter’s desperate need to be seen by no one. It had been a problem her whole life. There was one time, all the way back in second grade, when Kristine had come home begging her mother to let her dye her hair brown so that she wouldn’t be the only redhead in the school.

At the request, her mom had tilted her head and frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Everyone looks at me!” Kristine cried. “It’s ugly and I hate it!”

“Oh, Krissy, that’s not true!” she said. “They look at you because your hair is the prettiest color in the whole world. That’s why I married your dad, you know.”

The girl hadn’t been convinced. “I want brown hair!” she said. “Like Ashley and Erin.”

“But if you had brown hair like Ashley and Erin, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you,” her mother said, pulling her into her arms. “I’d say, ‘where’s my pretty little Krissy with her red hair?’ I’d be sad and lonely. You don’t want me to be sad and lonely, do you?”

Little Kristine had faltered at that. “Nnnooo…”

“Then you’ll keep your red hair for me?” she asked hopefully, kissing the crown of her head.

“Alright,” Kristine agreed reluctantly. “Just for you, Mama.”

Growing up, it had just been the two of them. Kristine’s father had died in a car accident before she was born, and they didn’t really have any extended family nearby. Kristine had been exceptionally close with her mother, closer than she had ever been with any friends or acquaintances she met at school. When the diagnosis came in, the ground just fell out from under her. What had been simple complaints of back pain was suddenly stage IV lung cancer, and Kristine was dropping out of her master’s program to help her mom through chemo.

Everything spiraled so fast. Within months, she was gone.

While she had been asleep, Kristine had dreamed about her mom. Her dad had been there too: Kristine recognized the diabolical red curls that he had so kindly passed down to her. They had swirled around her in a mist-filled limbo, smiling and singing to her in voices too quiet to hear properly. Kristine had wondered if she was dead. It made sense to her healing-stone-drugged brain: dying young was in her blood, after all. Death and her were old friends at this point, might as well embrace it.

Frustratingly though, her parents remained just out of reach. Kristine cried and screamed and begged, grasping at thin air for her mother’s hand, but she couldn’t quite bridge the distance. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes into the elegant chambers of Prince Loki and felt her groan vibrate in her throat that she realized she wasn’t dead after all.

Actually, it seemed her life might have just begun.

Kristine slid her ID card in the door of Avengers Tower, smiling awkwardly at the night watchman, then swiped it again in the elevator.

So much security. Sometimes, she almost forgot that she was living on what was essentially a government base. The elevator chimed as the doors opened at the top floor and she slipped into the common room.

“Did you have a good time?” Kristine jumped. Loki was stretched out on the couch, legs crossed elegantly, not even looking up from his book.

She raised an eyebrow. “Were-were you waiting up for me?”

“Of course not. Not everything’s about you, you know.” Loki turned the page, but there was a glint in his eye that made Kristine smile.

“Um…” she pushed her hair out of her face. “I think I’m going to make some tea. Want some?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Kristine fumbled around the kitchen as she heated the water, feeling his eyes on her all the while. She found herself stealing glances back at him as well—he just looked so regal, lounging there as if he owned the whole place. She wished she could get away with snapping a picture on her phone, just so she could have something to reference for a sketch later. Kristine had been drawing a lot of Loki recently—after all, she had promised—but she had yet to show any of these portraits to him. The floundering, bumbling part of her was convinced that they weren’t good enough, that he’d hate them. Stupid, she knew—he had nothing but praise to shower on the artwork she did decide to show him, but still she was nervous.

She wanted him to like her so badly. Like them. The drawings. But her too. Kind of. And that was stupid as well, because she knew he liked her. He had saved her life, after all. But even excluding that, Loki had always been so nice to her. Kristine had often wondered if he knew how badly she looked forward to his little visits every afternoon at the coffeeshop, the silly little chats they’d share for a few minutes. And he never stopped looking out for her: even now, months after everything had been resolved, he’d still check up on how she was feeling.

Still, sometimes she wondered. Did he actually like her, or were his actions just out of pity? It was a strange thing to consider, especially given his tumultuous past (imagine trying to explain to the average New Yorker that Loki of Asgard might have spent months being nice to some random girl just because he felt bad for her), but she considered it often, nonetheless. She didn’t know how to feel about it.

Kristine brought the teacups over to the couch. Loki sat up, moving his legs so that she could sit next to him, thanking her softly as she handed him the cup. For a while, they just sat there, sipping their tea in silence.

Finally, though, she found the courage to clear her throat. “Hey,” she asked. “Remember when you asked me to dance at the Christmas party?”

He grinned. “How could I forget?”

“Why did you?” she asked bluntly. Her cheeks immediately flushed red. “I mean—did you—could you tell? That he—Michael and I—that we—”

Luckily, Loki seemed to get what she was trying to spit out. “Not exactly,” he said, stirring his tea methodically. “I could tell that you were unhappy, and that he was completely unbothered by the fact that you were unhappy, and I found that to be concerning. But at that point, I never would have guessed the extent of the situation.”

No. It seemed no one could have guessed the extent of the situation. “Oh,” Kristine mumbled. “Is-is that why you asked me to dance? Because you were concerned?”

Loki raised his eyebrows, turning to fix Kristine with an amused gaze. “I asked you to dance because I wanted to dance with you.” When Kristine stared back at him in silence, he laughed. “Is that so difficult to believe?”

“N-no.” Now it was her turn to focus on stirring her tea and ignoring her companion. “I just… I’m not sure what happens now.”

“That would depend,” Loki said. “What do you wish to happen now?”

Kristine gulped. He had put the ball in her court. Even months later, she still found herself expecting someone to pop up and tell her exactly what to do. But Loki was waiting patiently. This decision was hers.

“I guess…” she started, speaking far too fast. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you took me out for coffee. Not in the Tower, I mean. There’s-there’s a place down the street. Unless you’d like the Tower better, that is. I don’t really care—”

Loki hushed her gently. “I’d be honored to take you out for coffee,” he said. “Would tomorrow morning suffice?”

It took her a full minute for her to fully process what he was saying, but once she did, Kristine couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, that would… suffice.”

“Good.” Loki leaned back against the cushions, and silence lapsed around them once more. Kristine hesitated for a moment before following him, shyly resting her head on his shoulder. He stiffened at first, and Kristine made to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around her and held her closer.

She sighed contentedly. She was safe here.

Safe with Loki.

#loki x ofc #loki marvel #loki fanfic #avengers fanfic #crimson curls #cozy writes