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magnoliamyrrh · 6 months

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okay so. my opinions on their eyes were watching discourse that i disagree w. here goes english class essay on tumblr

starting w quickly one of the worst complaints ive ever heard, "its written in backwoods, uneducated, slave talk" "it portrays african americans as uneducated and lower class." dear lord. yes the book is written in heavy southern dialect or avve or both bc theyre basically the same thing, but it adds a lot to the book as far as im concerned. if i as a foreigner can manage to read it just fine and enjoy it, im sure you can deal w it. if i could read this when i was like 16 and had only been speaking english for 6 years rly, im sure u can cope. hurston was also an anthropologist who predominantly studied southern and carribean african diaspora, and thus her writing is heavily based on this. she also,,, was born in alabama and raised in florida, and thus, she was trying to portay not "those backwards rural folk over there" but her own people. and you can tell too, in the book, she was also trying to find and understand herself. others have called their eyes were watching god a brilliant capturing of the soul and culture of southern black ppl, and uhhH yea, id tend to agree. the fact she focused on rural peoples doesnt somehow mean she was saying all of the african diaspora is like this, and also...... .. theres nothing wrong with "uneducated" "backwoods" poor and rural people god damn get the classism out of here

but onto the main shit

a) its a grand love story love life goals. + her relationship w tea cake is feminist goals somehow

uhh,,, not quite, not as simple as that. even the summary of the book, along w many other summeries in some versions, calls it "an enduring southern love story" and to an extent it is, but also, its far from,,, something to be glorified too much. especially not as other book summaries say, "tea cake comes along and is the best thing ever a liberator etc etc"

its true that thats part of it. hurston from what i know said she wrote the book almost as a love ode to a man she fell in love with when she was in haiti, and it shows for sure. but tea cake, and his relationship with janie, isnt without problems. after they get married he steals her money, uses it to "feel like a rich man," to buy food and drinks for ppl, to buy a guitar, to party, leaving her alone for days while she wonders if he aint dead, or if he hasnt stolen her money and left her, used her - she's struggling, in pain, anxious through the roof, he finds her sitting on the floor staring into nothing when he come back. and sure, he apologizes, he explains himself with charm and humor, says he couldn't help but want to know, says he didnt wanna bring her around lower class folks out of fear she wouldnt like it - and when she tells him she'd want to be there, after that, he does always bring her w him and doesnt exclude her. he gambles the money back and comes back stabbed, bleeding, but keeping his word, "look in mah left pocket and see whut yo' daddy brought youh. when ah tell yuh ah'm gointuh bring it, ah don't lie." its playful, charming, you get drawn into his shpeel, and i think anyone whose ever had a habit of falling in love w,, , how to say, those rough around the edges, those w street smarts, can say yea, theres a charm to it. he tells her after, from that point on, they're going to be living on his money, that he's a man and thus he's gonna provide - and in truth he never steals her money again, never uses her money again despite her having it, and while she works at times, he also works more than her, and its clear hes okay w sticking by his word of providing.,, and janie forgives him for this ordeal, sure. at the same time,,, it could be said its a red flag and that yup, he stole her money once right after they got married and left her feeling bad for days, which aint alright

next, the domestic violence between them, and the jealousy too, which the book at times romanticized and portrays as normal. theres several instances of this throughout. janie talks about how he strikes her on multiple occasions, but also how she strikes him. she talks abt finding out theres consequences for trying to fight him, which is getting beat. when she gets jealous and thinks he might be sleeping w another woman, she slaps him and they fight from room to room, him trying to keep her from beating him, that time not beating her and ending up w them having sex. another time when tea cake gets jealous that a woman is trying to set her brother up w janie, even tho he knows she aint gonna leave him or cheat on him, he beats her just to show that he possesses her, owns her. he knows shes done nothing to justify the jealousy, but does it anyhow. "no brutal beating at all. he just slapped her around a bit to show he was boss. everybody talked about it next day in the fields. it aroused a sort of envy in both men and women. the way he petted and pampered her as if those two or three face slaps had nearly killed her made the women see visions and the helpless way she hung on him made men dream dreams." this line v much shows the romantization and normalization of domestic abuse. and then, tea cake goes on to talk to the other men about it, to brag about it, to talk about how bc his wife is mixed and lighter skinned you can see the marks and bruises a beating leaves on her. the other men say beating on darker black women aint the same, bc noone can tell the next day you beat them, and because they will fight you back and beat you back all night, but janie seems to just take it obediently (not exactly true in all instances, she does fight back and beat him at times) and u can see it on her skin. tea cake brags to the other men that thats why he likes his wife, and that she is wherever and however he wants her to be........ which is something janies previous husband joe said too :/ except janie seems to accept and romanticise this, while having an issue w her previous husband, when in many regards tea cake and joe are doing the same thing.

and this takes us to,, well, tea cake aint exactly a "liberator" and their relationship isnt feminism 101. its just not. yes, tea cake in a sense liberates her. he reminds her of the boy she had a crush on as a teenage girl and the bees in the bloosoming tree. he unlike her previous husbands lets her.. be. he teachers her how to play board games, teacher her how to shoot a gun, goes fishing with her, takes her to games and dances she wasnt allowed to go to before. hes proud of her for shooting better than him, and he never once tells her to shut up around pll like joe does. when shes with him she talks to other ppl, shes finally involved in community life like how she wished. they spend nights on the muck dancing, singing, gambeling, joking and talking w other people, joining the carribean dancers around the fire. its clear in a sense that throughout the progression of her marriages, janie ends up w a man who Does in some regards represent and give her freedom, and who is also much closer to lets say, an african spirit and traditions than the previous two, especially joe. janie says, tea cake made her soul come out of its hiding place, and he did.

but he also..,,, was a man of the times, and they were both people of the times. and while tea cake saw her as much more an equal than her other husbands ever did, he was also clearly in charge and their marriage was still following a series of traditional norms

janie is still in many regards submissive to him, and "like a child." despite her being older than him, he calls her a girl child, a baby girl, a little thing, makes several statements and allusions to this sort of thing a lot. he calls himself her daddy, he holds up the idea that a man ought to provide for "his woman" and take care of her. she wears blue like a young gal bc tea cake says it looks good on her. and still, yea, this isnt a one way thing in their relationship, bc janie also, especially when hes sick or wounded, calls him a boy, a boy chile, her baby, mamas him etc. and theres many times when hes all too happy to try to fulfill her wishes and needs and do what she wants. and yea, its part of how love makes you feel young, its part too of how some ppl search for that sort of parental care in their partners, especially those who havent had it much (like janie, who grew up without a father.) still, this is mostly seen the other way in their relationship

and here its important to take into account janies history of trauma and how she was raised. she was raised by her grandma, who was born a slave and raped by a white master, which is how she got her mom. her mom in turn was raped, and thats how she got janie. there is a deep history here of violence and submission - her grandma even tells her, the black woman is made the mule of the world by both white and blacl men. janie is also used to being struck by her grandmother as a child, thus, to her being hit is normalized, a part of life, and even a sign that someone cares about you a lot - loves you enough to beat you for your own good. janie is married off to a man x2 x3 times her age at 16 by her grandma, and shes expected to settle bc shes not being beat, shes not being worked too hard, and the mans got property. janie struggles throughout her entire life with the lessons and morality her grandma taught her, and her marriages taught her, even saying at some point she hates her grandma for it.... janie has been conditioned throughout her life to be submissive, and to accept violence, and while she definetely has a fighting spirit and craves more than shes told to settle for, while she certainly stands up to wanting a certain amount of independence, shes also... bound by her times, by her conditioning, and this has limits for sure.

and thus we see her submission in her marriage w tea cake, even as he gives her more freedom than others - even that phrasing, he "gives" her freedom, but really, it aint his to give is it...? not only does she forgive him for the money steling, and for the beatings, but its also shown regularly that shed much rather follow his lead w things. in many regards, shes the one that asks and does - they go where tea cake wants to go, they do what tea cake wants to do. hes the one that chooses where they get married, hes the one that chooses to go work on the muck, hes the one that tells her to come work the fields w him, and hes the one that tells her to stay home and not work... after the hurricane she tells him again, well do and go where u wanna go. and while she goes along w it, while she says well do whatever u wanna do,,,, shes still following his lead by all means. shes been sweeped off of her feet like a child, and in many regards shes following his lead, and its known that hes the boss. more equal than her other marriages, but, still

.... and so. its complicated. it sure as hell aint a relationship which is "feminist" or "liberating" in a feminist sense or a modern sense..... and yet. it would be unfair to say, it also didn't liberate her soul somewhat, and they didnt love each other

b) and this takes us to the second critique i dont agree w, that the book is outright bad bc it promotes and romanticizes violence and all this. and also its definetely not a love story at all

,,, and. yea i dont think this is a fair critique at all. i think its up to you to interpret zora's writing and what it means to you. she clearly had more than just a one sided puritanical moralistic view and feeling on all this, and yes, she wrote this book in part infleunced by a whirwind romance she had in haiti and im sure to a great extent her own life experiences. she also wrote this book in the the 1930s. there is something deeply deeply honest, raw, real, and soulful about it because of this, it is complicated in the way real life is

no, janie isnt some sort of modern day "feminist" protagonist but also. she wasnt meant to be, she just wasnt i dont think

and i dont think its,,,, fair, to dismiss this entire book and all the brilliance in it bc of that.,, or to say that they didnt love each other either. it was far from perfect thats for sure. and i do really get why some would look at all this and say yea, this isnt love. i do... but i think its more complicated that that. and i think in many ways, it is a story of people and love in the context of the, well, limitations of who they are. in the context of deep deep generation and current trauma, in the context of the times, in the context of a lot of things..... and ive said this before, to me its in many ways the same sort of conflict i had when writing that ethnography on my grand grandma and grandpa, child marriage bridal kidnapping and all that, and trying to make some sense of what love and marriage mean in circumstances like that. and i could not reach a conclusion which simply said, they never loved each other. i just couldn't no matter how much i wanted to, bc, despite how fucked it all was, that wouldnt have been the true, messy complexity of it all....... tea cake did love her, he did bring her to life, he did cherish her, he did protect her, he did see her as more his equal than other men - he risked his life for her and died for it. he was also possessive, and jealous, and physically abusive. and she beat on him too.

........ and on the ending of the book, it can be interpreted in different ways for sure. tea cake's death and the way he dies could be interpreted in many ways. it was rabies that took him, and rabies is why janie had to shoot him, but the rabies made the jealousy he had before and the violence he had before come out to a stronger extent. in a way it could be said zora ending the story w tea cakes rabies being the final issue relieves him too much of his responsibility and actions, gives janie a "justified" retaliation and end... zora also v much shows how the other black ppl shed been living w largely turned on her when she shot him, caring more for him they did her. surprisingly janie talks about how some of the white women in the courtroom pitied her and "formed a protective shield around her", while her own turned their backs on her..she hears the men say, "well, you know whut dey say, 'uh white man and uh nigger woman is de freest thing on earth'. dey do as dey please." even if soon they forgive her and feel bad for their turning on her and her treatment of her and come to their senses. and thus, were also reminded that the book is Indeed very vocal of black mens views and treatment of black women, (as well as on how colorism affects things but thsts a whole other long train of analysis) and that zora wasnt just saying and showing that all this is a-okay. she wasnt saying that the other men were all good all fine, she wasnt saying that tea cake was either

.. and as for janie coming back home. welp. i think it can be interpreted again in many ways. some say it shows she had to kill tea cake in order to truly gain her freedom, it was the final step in her coming to self and self actualization, and that the ending of the book is "feminist" in this regard. others say the ending is the ending of a great love story, with janie coming home now with her soul alive, having seen the world as she says, to rest and be at peace. she sobs of what has happened, and yet she realizes tea cake lives still in her love. a beautiful metaphor of how the dead live through the love of the living. his memory lightens up the room like a sun, she draws the fishnet of his light and love and freedom over her, she calls her soul to see.... she has also learned from tea cake in part to not care what others say, so she doesnt care that the town women want to talk shit about her.. others say, the ending of the book is a feminist disaster. it shows janie giving up control over her narrative by not caring what the other women are saying about her. it shows her shutting herself into her old house with memories of a man who really, wasnt all that great. others say, its not a feminist disaster bc while the ending means the above, in zora writing it even beautifying, were still meant to critique it

honestly by this point, not quite sure i know. id say its neither and all three all in one bc its way more complicated than just "a feminist or not feminist message" "a role model message" ,,,, but rather, something deeply real and complicated...

either way. im sure i could say more but thats most of my thoughts. i think its a pity to diminish this book either to some grand perfect love story, or to failed feminism, or whatever else. its so much more..... it is a book about deep deep trauma and pain, slavery, culture, humor, coming of age, soul, love, hope, hate, racism, colorism, women and men, religion, and beauty.... and id say, most all really, it is a story about how beauty somehow comes out of deep sorrow and pain.... reducing it into bits is a pity and disservice to its sheer raw and real spirit

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askglassanon · 8 months

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Incorrect Quotes: Glass Addition

Spare Keys (derogatory)

Glass, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Firestorm: Hey. Comet: Hello. Prism: Hi! Glass: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Serum: We were out of Doritos.

— (Can't think of a funny title)

Glass: Can I be frank with you guys? Firestorm: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Serum: Can I still be Serum? Comet: Shh, let Frank speak.

— Glass if she was mortal

Glass: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Bee: You're like 15 years old Glass: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

— Why is this so accurate?

Glass: Bee... Bee: Oh no, 'Bee' in b-flat. Bee: You're disappointed.

— This is low-key interchangeable

Glass, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Bee: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

—

FFR!Glass: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back. Comet: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

— Modern nobody dies AU

Glass, at a restaurant: You guys should get the orange soda, it's amazing. Serum: Okay Waiter: Can I get you guys anything to drink? Glass: Orange soda, please! Serum: I'll have the strawberry soda. Firestorm: Me too, strawberry soda. Glass:

— MND AU Follow up (Oddly in character)

Glass, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Serum: You did WHAT– Firestorm: William Snakepeare

— MND part 3

Glass: I trust Serum. Firestorm: You think they know what they're doing? Glass: I wouldn't go that far.

— Imagine if Glass was ever this bold (Fun fact this Quote was in the Unshipping category)

Glass: I just wanna be called cute 21/7. Firefly: Why no 24/7? Glass: Snack breaks.

— Hehe >:3

Firefly: *holds a gun out to Glass* Glass: I-I don't believe in guns. Firefly: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

—

Bee: Why do you hang out with me? Glass: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Bee: … Bee: I feel a bit sorry for you.

— If Serum had a childhood

Serum: *watching their house burn down* Serum: Serum: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

— Four am (original prompt mentioned bread but I don't think Serum would like bread)

Pyrite : *Turns on the kitchen light* Serum: *Sitting at the table, eating sardines from the can* Pyrite : It’s four in the morning. Serum: Turn the light back off.

— Donnie would teach Serum to be a little menace

Serum: DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT JOKE WAS FUNNY? IT WASNT. NOBODY IS LAUGHING. Serum: *pulls up a graph* THIS IS WHEN YOU TOLD YOUR JOKE, YOU HAVE SINGLE HANDEDLY RUINED COMEDY! IVE ALSO ASKED MANY COMEDY SCHOLARS ON THEIR OPINION OF YOUR JOKE AND THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY! Pyrite : I've been researching comedy for the past 20 years, and I have genuinely never seen a joke this bad. We have used quantum physics to look into alternate universes to see every joke made, and yours was still by far the worst. Serum: CONGRATULATIONS! YOUVE SINGLE HANDEDLY CREATED THE WORST JOKE IN HUMAN HISTORY! HERES A MEDAL! *pulls up a horrible ms paint drawn star that says "you need help*

— Oh my gosh the Celestial AU!?

Celestial!Glass: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Celestial!Raph: Three words. Celestial!Glass: ♡

— Seems about right

Glass: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Glowbug: It’s not a joke. Glowbug: *sniffles* Glowbug: I’m a legit snack

— Serum wouldn't break and enter casually with zero hesitation

Pyrite : Serum, I am nothing if not a man of principle. Pyrite : Now let’s break into this apartment.

— .. Yeah. Given Potion's genuine and general lack of concern for potions safety this is accurate

Serum: Are you sure this is safe? Potion : Safer than Flintstone vitamin gummies in a bottle. Potion : Keep twisting, junior! All you’re gonna get is clicks.

— FIRST TRY!

Comet: Potion , you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Potion : DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

— Wasp Glass probably

Bee: You shouldn't be using a straw. Glass: I know, I know, it's bad for the environment and stuff. Bee: Yeah, but I mean... it's a weird way to eat spaghetti.

—

Glass: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Firefly : Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Glass: THE WHO? Firefly : Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

#Incorrect Quotes #OC Incorrect Quotes #OC Ask Blog Incorrect Quotes #Maus #Out Of Glass #OoG #// This is so much funnier with Comet #// Other blog OCs get a little cameo as a treat

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therummonster · 1 year

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round two! ft Charlie and Kayla

Charlie: Kayla is not allowed to decide which one of us is the chosen one.

Kayla: That’s the key slice of truth we need to complete the entire truth pie. Charlie: Ooh, can we get some actual pie? Kayla: I like the way you think.

Charlie: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan. Kayla: We could attack them with hummus. Charlie: I stand corrected. Kayla: Just keeping things in perspective.

Charlie: honk. Kayla: WHAT. Charlie: HONK. Kayla: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

Kayla I got us matching friendship bracelets, and you say I don't care about our relationship. Charlie: These are handcuffs. Kayla: Yeah, 'cause we're partners in crime!

Kayla: DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT JOKE WAS FUNNY? IT WASNT. NOBODY IS LAUGHING. Kayla: pulls up a graph THIS IS WHEN YOU TOLD YOUR JOKE, YOU HAVE SONGLE HANDEDLY RUINED COMEDY! IVE ALSO ASKED MANY COMEDY SCHOLARS ON THEIR OPINION OF YOUR JOKE AND THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY! Charlie: I've been researching comedy for the past 20 years, and I have genuinely never seen a joke this bad. We have used quantum physics to look into alternate universes to see every joke made, and yours was still by far the worst. Kayla: CONGRATULATIONS! YOUVE SINGLE HANDEDLY CREATED THE WORST JOKE IN HUMAN HISTORY! HERES A MEDAL! pulls up a horrible ms paint drawn star that says "you need help

Charlie: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. Kayla: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out. Charlie: Th-that's not how that works-

Charlie: Kayla is restricted to decaf for the rest of this adventure.

#popcrossstudios #charlie the biomech #mikayla maciel #therum creation

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abimee · 2 years

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4 and 20 for the ask thing :0?

4. Favorite thing to draw

🤔 hard to say but i think how constantly i draw characters naked in bed asleep i would posit drawing characters naked in bed asleep is one thing. i think i also love drawing characters smoking fsr. i also loooove drawing character redesigns im too lazy to make OCs but i love being given a character to mold and shape into my own image especially if theyre really boring to look at

20. A piece from this year that you're really proud of

surprisingly ive been hating most of what ive made so far this year but i genuinely think althaea gag reflex comic is the best thing ive ever drawn so i think it counts even if its. well

if i gotta choose a serious picture i gotta say im always devasted whenever a comic of mine doesnt do well because theyre the things i spend the most time on while Also considering them the ugliest and worst pieces of art i make, so when they dont do well i weigh the idea that they Are bad and that i wasted a bunch of time, and that valentines comic i made not doing well at all made me really sad at the time and i havent made a comic of that scale since. but i really like how it came out regardless and will consider it the best piece of art ill make this year because i put my time into drawing the anatomy closer to my usual style than using a shorthanded one for faster drawing, and i made sure to color most of it in and even use some light shading and lightsourcing to really make sure it looked nice. my most intensive piece of art in a few years so its going on the wall for a while

#thank you for sending one in #i appreciate it heavily

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fromfaewithlove · 4 months

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Some Reflections on My Time in Europe So Far.

Ive been here for almost a month now so I thought I’d share a little specifically as it pertains to race, gender, languages, and nationalities. European racism isn’t better or worse it’s just more awkward also it’s very dependent on gender.

In the northwestern big cities Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin etc it was pretty normal / non noticeable but there’s a lot of young black people there and all kinds of black as well. Biracial, African American, East and West African, and a lots of islanders so we fit in pretty seamlessly. When approached people assumed I was French Canadian and that he was from Texas (lol we have very different accents). If we didn’t speak at all people in the Netherlands assumed we were Afro-German students. The real tensions didn’t arise till we went southwest to Italy.

As soon as we crossed into the country from the Swiss border Italian police pulled my boyfriend off the train and started yelling at him in Spanish asking if he was a Colombian drug dealer and they tore through our bags (we’re both afrolatinos and mostly speaking Spanish in Italy because we don’t know Italian he also has a thick Ecuadorian accent from living there) We were asked if we were Colombian several times -even after they had our American passports. However once we pulled out our college ID’s and threw around some ultra midwestern slang (a few over drawn howdies and yeppers) their tones changed and all of sudden they claimed they were helping us not profiling.

They did the same thing to a group of Asian girls demanding them to give up all their fentanyl - I felt so bad for them they weren’t older than 15 on a student exchange and the cops wouldn’t let their host parents step in at all. Multiple people tried to step in for both my bf and I as well as the other girls but the cops were pretty hostile to them too. Eventually they let us all go but the whole debacle made us miss our next connecting train. Overall me and my bf experienced the worst xenophobia when we spoke Spanish. When addressing the authorities English was always our best bet. Unfortunately this was not our only experience with Italian law enforcement on this trip.

I was genuinely just ignored a lot when I wasn’t with my bf which was fine by me. I didn’t associate it with racism as much as people who didn’t speak English not attempting to speak to me unless they absolutely had to (waiters, airline workers, people working in shops). People weren’t necessarily as nice or as helpful but it seemed to be more of a difference in work culture in general. Customer service is just a much bigger thing in the states. Service with a smile just doesn’t really exist here. Additionally, contrary to common belief ( i.e. TikTok videos about girls trying to speak in their target language and being quickly shut down) most people in Europe don’t actually speak English and it’s a hassle for them to try. They speak about as much English as Americans who last took a language class in middle school and now open Duolingo 3x a year claim to know a little Spanish.

However once I spoke French things changed tune. No matter what country I’m in I received the best customer service (which wasn’t much lol) when I spoke French. I equate this to French just being a significantly easier linguistic switch to make in countries that already speak Romance languages. And France being significantly closer than England or the States.

We experienced some racism from other Americans abroad who assumed me and boyfriend were thieves. It was fucking hilarious. In most Italian train stations there are loud PA announcements in English warning people to look out for pickpockets and guaranteed you know who the Americans were because they would immediately stare at us like they saw the ghost of negroes past while checking for their belongings. At one point I failed to contain myself with this one woman i was waiting in line behind in order to get a train ticket and said “oh please bitch you’re okay”.

It was so funny tho cause I’d watch Italian teens pickpocket and steal and they weren’t necessarily good at it - it was just that most of the tourists were too racist to pay attention to who the real thieves were. They weren’t looking for the normal looking European guy in converse in jeans that’s inching up on them, they were trying to avoid the POC. I will say, in Italy a few guys tried it unsuccessfully just because they’d be so obvious (granted I’m from a big city so I’m used to knowing when someone is trying to get me in a situation and pretty adept at getting out of them).

Regardless of the culture shock and xenophobia/racism. I know for a fact I’m gonna move back to Italy in less than a year. It’s beautiful and warm year round, housing and food are so much more affordable and it’s without the same threat of political instability that currently exists is other places I was considered moving to. Additionally this racism just isn’t as bad. In America racists treat me like I’m a threat to their very existence, here i mostly felt like an alien that people weren’t sure how to address. And free college + affordable healthcare and greater access to travel and study/use more languages are absolutely worth a few awkward uncomfortable situations for me.

#reflections #thought dump #travel writing

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tingslisbon · 9 months

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#hebrew #Inquisition #Jews

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gothcryptid-art · 2 years

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whats good gamers heres. a fanfic. i wrote this on a whim and there is no title. ive also never published a pic before

otto octavius x gender neutral reader

takes place after the events of No Way Home

(reader is gender neutral but theres a slight mention of makeup, nothing else tho)

Otto looked in the mirror at himself, finally seeing a changed man. He still had the actuators, remnants of a distant mistake. Since then, he had travelled across the multiverse and received the help he didn't know he needed. He was able to return home and pay his dues, his time in prison wasn’t exactly a highlight of his life, but it was far above his personal rock bottom. He spent three months there, before being released.

Then, by some miracle, Columbia University offered him a job. They were willing to overlook everything he had done and hire him as a professor. Having the chance to shape the minds of the next generation was an honor, and he truly gave his all to his job. He had done so well, in fact, that he was currently staring at himself in the mirror when he was meant to be getting ready for a faculty gala. He was nominated for Professor of the year, and he was already overjoyed. To even be nominated for the award was more than he could’ve dreamed of, after everything.

His eye was drawn to the doorway, and he saw the real reason he had changed. You. You had been there with him through it all, after it all went to shit, that is. You met him at his worst, and by some miracle you were still here.

You looked absolutely elegant in the flowing fabric of your outfit, perfectly tailored to accentuate your frame. Dressed up and ready to go to the gala that Otto had briefly forgotten about in his little daydream.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, approaching him with a tie in your hand. “Are you overthinking again?”

Otto lets you mess with his collar and wrap the tie around his neck. Your gentle fingers manipulate the fabric into an intricate knot he couldn’t dream of tying. He watches the way your wedding band glints in the harsh bathroom light. He hadn’t thought he could have this again, not after Rosie, but here you were, getting him ready for his big day.

“Not overthinking, my dear. Just thinking,” Otto smiles. “What kind of knot is this?”

“It’s called an Elderedge knot, I googled it about fifteen minutes ago,” You giggle as you finish the knot. He loves that sound. “I just thought it might be a nice touch.”

Your hands begin to retreat, but Otto takes one and places a kiss right onthe knuckle of your ring finger. He watches your face begin to flush as you smile.

“Thank you, my Dear,” He says as you turn away from him to lean over the counter beside him, looking closely in the mirror. He just watches you, taking in your microexpressions as you scrutinize your makeup. After deciding it was sufficient, an epiphany seems to strike you.

“Oh! I forgot one thing!” You quickly stand up straight and look at Otto. “Stay here.” Just like that, you’re out the door.

Otto waits for your return, wondering what you could possibly have up your sleeve. Your head pops into the doorframe a moment later, but nothing else.

“Turn around. And close your eyes!” He does as asked, but the actuators are still looking at you. “All of them, smartypants.” He obliges and turns the actuators away from you.

He hears you approach, and then he feels you fiddling with the ends of his actuators. Again, he wonders exactly what you’ve planned.

“Aaaaaand… Ta-Da!” Your hands gently usher the actuators into his field of view. Your arms wrap around his midsection, and it’s only a little awkward that the bases of his actuators are in the way. You’ve both gotten used to it by now.

He opens his eyes, and when he sees the actuators again, their ‘heads’ are adorned with… little top hats and bow ties. He can’t help the snort that escapes him. You gently tap him on the chest and murmur into his back that he can take them off if he wants to.

Oh he wouldn’t have this. He steps away to face you, taking care not to nudge the accessories off, and takes your chin in his hand. Your eyes look into his, and he can’t help but take a moment to appreciate just how elegant you look tonight.

“They’ve never looked better,” He whispers as he leans down. His lips capture yours in a sweet kiss, only lasting a moment. As he pulls away, he plants a peck on the tip of your nose. He watches the way it scrunches as you let out another giggle.

“Thank you, my love. How long until we should head out?” He asks, remembering that he is, in fact, on a time crunch.

“Oh shit!” You pull away, grabbing your phone from the counter and checking the time. “We have two minutes to get our asses out the door. Hustle!” Your voice trails behind you as you leave the room to finish getting ready.

Otto takes one more look in the mirror, making sure to pay extra attention to his fancy tie.

Even if he doesn’t win the award tonight, Otto’s more than content with the life he’s made for himself. Especially with you by his side.

#otto octavius x reader #otto octavius #doctor octopus x reader #gender neutral imagine #otto octavius imagine #doctor octopus imagine #doc ock x reader #doc ock imagine #idk what else to tag this with hehe #anyways if ur reading this i hope u have a wonderful evening

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moonknightly · 3 years

Text

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier

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alleiradayne · 3 years

Text

Innuendo

A Very Destiel Series

If you asked Castiel, something was definitely wrong with Dean. Of that, he had no doubt. Whatever it was that bothered him, Castiel also knew that were he to get to the bottom of it, he must tread lightly. Press too hard on Dean Winchester and he'd bottle up tighter than the lid on a pickle jar. But when the possibility of a hunt distracts them, Castiel is forced to put his concerns aside and focus on the task at hand. Unfortunately for them both, the case reveals far more about themselves than they ever anticipated.

Part IV - Headlong

Summary: Why bother with a plan when they always go to Hell in a handbasket? Warnings/Tags: Holy cerebral headspace, trippy, monsters, fighting, Main Character Death and Immediate Revival, lots of trauma-responses, mind-palace, elements of horror, it's the big fight, the showdown with this episode's Big Bad, okay, like, they're fighting a monster, it's dark, it's grim, it's fucking psychotic, Castiel goes through some shit and it's intense Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Word Count: 2,991 Song: Headlong - Queen

“Alright, I take it back. This plan sucks.”

Castiel counted the marinas and docks glowing in the darkness like little beacons. The Merrimack River stretched away from their perch on a lift bridge, reaching for the distant horizon. At least six large warehouses dotted the southern shoreline as it widened and emptied into the Gulf of Maine, and more docks lined the northern bank. Dean was right. But Castiel kept that thought to himself.

A lone sedan crested the north embankment headed south, its headlights blindingly bright. Once it had passed, Castiel chanced a cautious look at Dean, and what he found there troubled him. “We could start inland and work our way northeast.”

“That would take the rest of the night and the better part of tomorrow,” Sam said.

He, too, was right. And again, Castiel kept the thought to himself. Why, though? Despite his concern, he held back, restrained the urge to speak. Yes, he wanted to avoid Dean’s ire. But to what end? His thoughts snarled further, tangled in a web of possibilities. Inevitabilities. He could hardly make any sense of it. The longer he stared at the river mouth, the worse his fears grew. Control slipped from his fingers with each reaching grasp, and terrifying conclusions spiraled wildly until the worst flashed before his eyes.

“We can start with the frontage roads at least,” Dean sighed as he turned back to the car.

Drawn from the depths of his subconscious, Castiel followed wordlessly. Three doors opened and shut in unison, and then the motor roared to life with a violent snarl.

And you’re rushing headlong, you’re out of control...

If he hadn’t caught Dean’s smirk in the rearview mirror, Castiel would have ignored the music. But it was Queen. Again. And something about it tripped whatever human instinct he had developed in the last year. Inevitable violence lingered at the edges of his subconscious, like an old friend waiting their turn to greet him. So Castiel did the only thing he thought might work. Whatever he could try to keep Dean from rushing blindly into the fray, he’d do it.

“Maybe we should head back to the motel,” he said as Dean pulled away from the curb. “We could investigate the locations the witnesses said they saw the creature.”

The Impala pitched over the southern embankment and lumbered to a slow stop at the bottom of the hill. A blinking red stoplight droned on in the darkness, streaking through the amber streetlights that bathed the sidewalks in their golden glow. With each passing second, that impending dread pressed in, snaring his senses. The grim darkness at the edge of his subconscious loomed, threatened. Like a rolling fog, those distant reaches of his awareness encroached until he was consumed.

“Do you… are you guys seeing this?”

Castiel followed Sam’s pointing finger through the windshield to their right. As though his mind had manifested it, an actual fog, thick and dark as slate, crept past the old stone buildings. Low, it clung to the road as it coursed into the intersection. More crawled atop it, coalescing into a mass that overwhelmed the amber lamps, blotting out their light with inky darkness.

“Dean…”

Sam’s voice cracked through the eerie silence. But the Impala remained right where Dean had stopped, and it was then that Castiel realized he had shut the car off. As the wall of gray neared, a deafening silence accompanied it so thick Castiel hardly heard Dean speak.

“Like I said,” he started as he racked his Colt Paterson, “one of our brains had to draw it out.”

“Dean, wait, we—”

Too late. Dean rushed ahead, a man with a mission. He had his hammer, and with a nail in sight, there would be no stopping him. Despite Sam’s grumbling, he followed expeditiously, gleaming Taurus in hand and striding headlong into the fog after Dean.

Castiel swung the passenger door aside, silent as the grave. He looked over the roof of the car and found nothing but darkness amidst the gray. His boots bore him soundlessly to that massive roiling wall, towering so far over him that it disappeared into the endless night. Consumed. No sound escaped, no light penetrated. It was as if the entire world beyond had ceased to exist.

Mortal though he was, Castiel had to press on, rush into the maddening fray as had his family. Without them, he was nothing. So he stepped, and like a lover greeting their partner, the gray enveloped him. Coiling tendrils smothered him, slithered up his nose, into his ears, his mouth. But there was no pain, no sensation at all. Weightless, he drifted in a sea of nothing, listing aimlessly.

“You have always been nothing, Castiel.”

Wet and thick, a fathomless voice echoed through the deafening silence as though it bubbled up from unplumbed depths. And yet, nothing had spoken. But he had felt it, that rolling thunder of words. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and the air shifted just behind him. Only, when he turned, he found nothing but more of the great gray mass. The pressure, that sense of an impending presence teased at his every nerve, but there was no one. Always no one.

“You are aware of yourself. Acutely. Aware of how small and insignificant you are.”

Blood rushed past his ears as Castiel spun about. More gray, more darkness.

“Is that what you fear? That which you do not know about yourself? Those dark recesses where anything might hide?”

He whirled about once more, then shouted. “Dean!? Where are you?!”

Nothing.

“Or is that what robs you of rest? Irrelevance born out of sacrifice. You were valuable once, useful. Now you’re just like him.”

Castiel clamped his hands over his ears. “It’s an illusion,” he hissed. Then he called into the endless fog once more. “Dean?! Sam?!”

Silence. But only for a moment too brief.

“Rejected by everyone you’ve ever cared about. How… pathetic. Cast out by your own kind, but unworthy of acceptance by humans. So utterly alone.”

“No,” he cried. “That’s not true. It can’t be.” The damp sank into his bones. “Dean?!” he called as he shivered, stumbled. “Dean, where are you?!”

At long last, he heard something. Dean’s voice echoed in the distance, muted by the thick fog. He scrambled to his feet and ran towards it. Stronger, closer, each response to his frantic calls spurred him onward, racing as fast as his tired legs could move.

Then the gray parted so suddenly, Castiel skidded to a halt. And what he saw drained him of all hope.

A small clearing encircled the same intersection at which the Impala had stopped. At its center, Sam struggled on the ground, unable to gain his footing. And beside him, Dean fought for breath in the grasp of the most horrific creature Castiel had ever seen.

It towered well over twelve feet tall and exerted no effort holding Dean aloft. Whatever manner of disguise it had once used, the Illithid had abandoned it. An oblong head of an octopus tapered to a narrow face with four tentacles covering its mouth. Regal robes in shades of midnight blue, plum, and rosewood draped in many intricate layers, aiding the illusion that it levitated. A large brass pendant, worn with age, hung from its neck and lay on a narrow layer of white linen just below the hollow of its throat.

“You’re too late. As always.”

So close, that booming voice rang as though Castiel had stuck his head inside a struck church bell. Though it spoke barely above a whisper, that cavernous voice rolled like peels of earth-shattering thunder. He collapsed to one knee, hands clamped over his ears, and shook his head in a vain attempt to rid himself of the voice. Unrelenting, it struck again and again, repeating claps of thunder that rattled his teeth, his bones, his soul.

“Cas!”

Dean’s faint gasp rent the air, a sharp breath slicing through the thick stillness. “Don’t listen to it!”

Castiel dared a look. His jaw dropped in absolute terror as webbed fingers tightened about Dean’s throat. His choking voice spluttered as he tried to speak, face reddening and eyes bulging. Castiel stared, no will to tear his eyes away and no courage to act. Every time Sam stood, he collapsed, wracked by the same silent voice that had cleaved Castiel’s mind asunder. And Dean’s face swelled, crimson plunging to purple as the last of his life drained from him.

“You fear that which you are becoming.”

No, he thought. He could tolerate it no longer. Castiel wanted—needed—to run, to flee the wretched nightmare. He could not witness the death of his family, not again. Not ever again. Too many times, he had seen their lifeless bodies. Too many times, they had died at his hands. Too much, it was all too much, and against his own willpower, he screamed a righteous howl swallowed by the fog. He would not be a party to it again, no, never again, he loved them, and they loved him no matter what, no matter if he was human or angel or anything in between, if only he could just move—

Gray vanished, replaced by an inky black void. He felt the ground beneath his feet but saw nothing, endlessly nothing. The Illithid, Sam, Dean, the fog. Everything was gone. Familiar surroundings sucked the air from his lungs. His stomach plummeted, and a deep chill numbed his fingers and toes, drained of all sensation.

In one moment, he had become nothing. Empty.

“You cannot hide from me.”

A flashing image burst through the void, and Castiel watched as though he relived a memory. The Illithid released its grip, and Dean crumpled in a heap beside Sam.

“You have failed them again.”

No!

Somehow, Castiel fled. The endless nothing shifted, pitched, tumbled as his awareness vacated his physical existence, seeking, searching. But for what? And why that void? It no longer served a purpose. And yet, synapses fired, each connection leaping further and further as he neared something, someone.

“There is nowhere for you to go.”

Another vision penetrated the darkness, and he watched. Dean lay where his body had landed, unmoving. Sam reached to him, and with his feeble grasp, shook the lifeless body. Sam’s righteous howl of anguish barely broke the suffocating silence, but Castiel felt it all the same. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he wept, trails of ice that branded his skin.

In the depths of his misery, a tendril of gray fog lanced out of the darkness and pierced Castiel in the chest, straight through his heart. For one terrifying moment, death seemed inevitable. But that moment lingered, suspended, stretched so thin the universe split at the seams.

“You lie!”

“No!”

Crashing waves of laughter rolled over him, drowning Castiel in an endless sea of despair. “You do. You have lied to yourself and those you love every day. You claim to have sacrificed for that love. And yet you cling. Cleave. Clutch. Without it, you are nothing. Because of your cowardice, your selfishness, your fear, those people you profess to love so dearly will die.”

For the third time, the world split, and those seams stretched near to bursting, the very fabric of his existence ripping apart. But instead of fighting it, instead of railing against everything as he always had, Castiel submitted.

Without it, you are nothing.

He knew then. He understood the truth, not of what the Illithid spoke, but for what his mind dug so deep. And he found what he had so desperately sought. There at the distant edges of the endless dark sparked a tiny flicker of light. He raced for it, sprinting, chasing, flying...

“It will not save you.”

With each and every inch he covered, the light bloomed, pressing back the darkness until, at last, he bathed thoroughly in brilliant white. Relinquished of its bonds, his consciousness soared on wings reborn, obsidian iridescence glimmering with the very last remnant of his grace.

“No,” Castiel groaned. “But it might save them.”

That light, what felt like all the light in the world, collapsed so suddenly to a single pinprick. And in one liminal, fleeting second, Castiel floated in his euphoria, reunited with the one part of himself he had always trusted.

And then the world shattered.

Mind and body melded, coalesced with such force the concussive blast rocked Castiel back to reality. All that light burst from him, from his wide eyes and gaping mouth and freshly minted wings as he screamed. His entire body, down to the very last molecule, echoed his anguish as the light burned through him, consuming him in a righteous inferno. So many feathers, he thought. So many ruined plumes took to the wind for their final flight as cinders and ash.

But it was worth it. The gray receded, blown back in a sweeping arc. Sam stirred, rising to his hands and knees. Beside him, Dean coughed violently as he rolled to one arm, a knee, then shielded his eyes against the light. Castiel saw his lips move, saw how his neck strained as he shouted, but heard nothing.

Last, he looked to the Illithid, and though the final traces of his grace threatened to consume him, Castiel only knew relief. Understanding shined in the Illithid’s endless gaze, almost as if it was inspired. Grateful. Amused.

Unburdened.

Foggy tendrils curled from its head, its hands. It seeped from every stitch in its regal robes. The gray diffuse amassed until it enveloped the Illithid. With open arms, it greeted the end, embraced its death, and vanished in a whorl of twisted clouds. On a zephyr gust, it took with it the towering walls of fog, and the world reemerged brilliantly illuminated by Castiel for one liminal moment.

Then he collapsed, hands and knees crashing to the asphalt. Gravel and dirt ground into his palms, stinging, cutting. The entire weight of the world seeped into his muscles, his bones, his very soul, threatening to crush him. A deep breath rattled his lungs, and he coughed, choked. One sleeve came away bloody from his mouth, and his hand shook. Not once before in all his millennia had he felt so used, so drained, but there was no mistaking it. He had been given another chance. Not just to make the right choice. But to devote himself. To the cause, to his family, to the world.

It was done. And it was worth the gloriously terrifying ache of complete humanity coursing through his entire body.

One foot steadied beneath him, and the other followed out of sheer force of will. As he stood, he found Sam and Dean dusting themselves off, checking in with each other. Then Dean turned to Castiel and, much to his surprise, enveloped him in a hug reminiscent of those they had shared upon reuniting in Purgatory.

Committed. Of all the people in the world, Castiel knew then that he had bound himself once more, irrevocably, to Dean Winchester. And with that thought, he clung to him a little tighter, a little closer, as if to hold onto him forever.

“Do I want to know what just happened?”

“I uh—” Castiel stuttered a breath as Dean parted from him and held him at arm’s length. He laughed then and said, “I think the appropriate innuendo here would be that I went ‘balls to the wall’ and managed not to kill myself doing it.”

Sam choked back a laugh, and Dean startled back a step. The late October chill replaced his warmth, and Castiel silently cursed the distance between them. He had hoped an innuendo would work, would finally crack whatever armor Dean refused to shed.

Instead, Dean averted his long gaze and said, “That looked a helluva lot like angel powers.”

Not quite an accusation. But close enough. “That’s... because it was,” Castiel said.

“But I thought Billie… and The Shadow—”

“I did too,” he interjected. “It wasn’t a… conscious decision.” Words struggled to find his leaden tongue. “I think I didn’t want to give it up completely. Like a part of me was terrified of how useless I’d be if I became—”

Castiel caught himself before he finished the thought. But Dean’s glare darkened, angular brow and narrowed eyes weighing him, measuring.

“If you became human.”

He couldn’t bring himself to repeat it. So he nodded.

“Castiel, you’re not worthless.” Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re family. Between you and Sam, the two of you are all I got. I’ll take you, useless humanity and all, over any other douchebag out there.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, as much out of relief as exhaustion. “I forgot what it felt like. I think I could sleep for a month.”

Dean turned him towards the car and began walking. “Completely human, then? Like, if I stabbed you with a sword, you’d—”

“Out of all the methods of murder with which you are familiar, why was your first thought swordplay?”

Pealing laughter echoed down the street as Sam doubled over, clutching his stomach. Dean stopped dead in his tracks and shot a glare over his shoulder at him, but that accomplished little beyond spurring Sam into motion. He cackled as he shuffled to the car, patting Castiel on the shoulder as he passed. Only when he was inside the vehicle did his laughter quiet. Marginally.

Castiel turned back to Dean and found, even in the darkness, a pink hue coloring his entire face and reaching his collar. And as much as he wanted to press, as much as he wanted to understand, Castiel thought better of it. At the very least, Dean was in a good mood. And when Castiel motioned to the car, Dean nodded, silent but for a single grunt. Together, they walked, shoulder to shoulder. And that was close enough.

For now.

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM! Catch up on previous parts with the link below!

INNUENDO MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

#destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfic #deancas fanfiction #dean x castiel #castiel x dean #castiel x dean winchester #dean winchester x castiel

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 3 years

Text

Subtitles: Episode 4, We Interrupt This Program

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: [Y/N] is still recovering from one of the worst migraines they’ve ever had and they have the scars to prove it… Wait. Those scars weren’t there before and they certainly weren’t from passing out on the sidewalk a few days prior!

Word count: 9,361

Warnings: Mentions of (not super graphic) death and mental illness. Also Reader being just a little horny on main, but what’s new; almost 9.5k words and they’re simping for most of them. Lots of dorky fluff and also talking about insecurities.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend

~~~

In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, voices were conversing.

“[Y/N] [L/N]…” one started.

[Y/N] [L/N]. Age twenty-five. Born to Killian and Alice [L/N] in [city, state] but Dad wasn’t in the picture. No siblings, no living relatives. They wanted to go to school for botany but Mom was diagnosed with early-onset dementia while they were still in high school, so they changed their career path to neurology in hopes of finding a way to help her. She still lives in their hometown.

“Oh, wait,” another voice chimed in, almost indistinguishable from the first, “I know this one. Oh, God.”

[Y/N] was an Honors student, at the top of all their classes. A degree in neurology with phytotoxicology on the side. They took an internship in Europe one year and somehow found themselves in Sokovia. HYDRA was still laying low at the time, caught wind of them.

“Wait,” a third voice, this one easier to differentiate from the other two. “They’re HYDRA?”

The second voice responded, “Former.”

[Y/N] had no idea what they were getting into. HYDRA, always good at hiding in the shadows; they brought [Y/N] in under the guise of an assistant job studying new forms of neural regeneration. A job that paid well enough to live comfortably and even send a little extra home, while developing something that just might solve all their mother’s problems? It was a dream come true.

Fortunately for HYDRA but unfortunately for [Y/N], they were very good at their job too. They helped HYDRA develop all kinds of nasty stuff. Nanobots that changed brain chemistry, near foolproof brainwashing tech— They even helped develop special toxins, one of the world’s deadliest poisons. All the while, thinking they were doing something good.

“How is that possible?” the original voice asked. “How could they have been so oblivious?”

“One-track mind?” the second voice offered, “Plus misinformation on HYDRA’s part and ‘routine health checks’ with something a little extra mixed in.”

“They were tested on?”

“A victim of almost everything they’d helped create, except the fatal stuff and anything that would disrupt business as usual. IVs and shots full of toxins, nanobots being released into their room while they slept.”

The third asked, “What changed?”

“Wanda.”

[Y/N] stumbled upon Wanda and her brother by pure accident. They’d been late that day and in their hurry, ran through a wrong door to where HYDRA was keeping Sokovian volunteers for testing. The twins were the youngest in their group, [Y/N] was only a couple of years older and the youngest in their division. It was a match made in heaven, really.

“Try hell,” the first voice suggested with a scoff.

The other voices offered their murmured agreements.

“So they knew each other,” the third voice said, “Before.”

That’s when [Y/N] started pulling at threads and HYDRA’s costume began to unravel; their one-track mind had switched gears. There was something too weird about the whole thing, these Sokovian civilians had stories that didn’t line up with [Y/N]’s own.

“And they believed them?”

They believed Wanda. She and her brother were just two more Sokovian citizens suffering at the hands of war and wanting to help their people. They had no reason to lie. They had more reason to be honest to [Y/N] than HYDRA ever did, actually. It was just a bonus that for Wanda and [Y/N], being around each other was like being a moth drawn to a flame.

[Y/N] may have been naive but they were far from stupid. When they figured out what was going on, they wriggled their way deeper into HYDRA’s ranks under their own disguise of loyalty. They became a full-fledged HYDRA agent, tasked with assisting in neural and poisonous weaponry. They weren’t able to protect Pietro and Wanda from testing, obviously—not that Wanda would have let them; she and her brother still believed they were being tested on for the greater good—but they did their best to stay nearby and keep the Maximoffs’ sanity intact for as long as they could. They even managed to save a couple of the other test victims by injecting them with temporary poisons that lowered their heart rate to the point of appearing dead. When the bodies were dropped off, the poison wore off not long after and some of the victims were able to escape. No side effects to be seen.

“I have a question,” Original voice said abruptly. “Why do we know this much information on one person? Like, this is some in-depth, intimate stuff. Why do we know that [Y/N] and Wanda had the hots for each other since day one?”

Second voice answered, “We’ve done extensive research on [Y/N]. The result of an investigation on the person who caused the apprehension of an entire faction of HYDRA after successfully poisoning them.”

The tests that were done on [Y/N] were not without their outcomes. They gained the ability to transform almost any matter into almost any other form.

“Huh,” Third voice hummed, “That reminds me of a series of disappearances a few years back. One house was replaced by rose bushes and another—get this—burned down because the roof had been turned to lava. Whoever it was, they either stopped on their own or died. What were they called?”

“The Alchemist,” Second stated simply, much to Third’s dismay. “And those were incognito HYDRA agents.”

After Pietro died and Wanda disappeared—not really disappeared, just left with the Avengers—[Y/N] had a choice to make. They were far too deep into HYDRA’s work now, the awful things that they had done were beginning to weigh on them, as Wanda and her brother had been just as grounding for [Y/N] as [Y/N] had been for her. After she was gone, they had a hard time dealing with the horrible business going on around them. So they did what they knew how to do; they mixed up a combination of poison and nanobots.

[Y/N] had fully committed to perishing with the rest of their coworkers but apparently, the poison hadn’t been quite strong enough. They’d made a miscalculation in a time of poor mental state and woke up the next day to hear that not all of the HYDRA agents had died either. At least the survivors had been taken in for the time being but that just wasn’t enough for them; they’d had a right to be concerned too because HYDRA had a habit of getting themselves out of sticky situations. This case was no different.

[Y/N] most likely felt responsible for having a hand in HYDRA’s dirty work, for not doing more, and they must have felt even more responsible when they learned that HYDRA was a much bigger problem than they could have ever imagined.

First blurted, “Well, what happened next?”

Second answered, “They went after agents until they got caught, the only way they knew how.”

The second miscalculation that they’d ever made got them caught. The agent put a gun to [Y/N]’s head and pulled the trigger.

“So are they dead too?” First asked. The voice seemed to quiver.

The third voice hemmed and hawed a bit before saying, “They must have, with the way all this weirdness had been going. Oh my god, poor Wanda, not one dead partner but two—”

Second spoke over the other two voices’ rambling, forcing them to calm down and listen. “They didn’t die, though, they—”

The voices started cutting out like the dream was a TV program being interfered by a poor connection and static.

“—Found by—Barely alive—Hospital—Braindead—Westview—Find a doct—”

Suddenly gunshots sounded, one followed by several more, and the darkness cracked and shattered, revealing blinding light behind it. A silhouette walked silently through the wall of light; it was Geraldine—no, Monica—poised with a gun in the outfit she helped deliver Maximoff twins in. As she walked forward, crossing from a plane of burning white to one of void black, the image of her warped and distorted until it changed. Monica, looking much more modern, in a uniform that included a bulletproof vest and a lanyard with S.W.O.R.D. printed at the top, moving carefully towards a broken and bleeding body on the ground with another in a heap behind her. The image distorted and changed again, and the first body was sitting on their knees and looking up defiant defeat. The person they were looking at was no longer Monica but a bulky figure in a dark outfit with straps in the form of an H across their chest, the body that had been laying in a battered pile behind Monica just a moment earlier. The H-adorned assailant held a still-raised gun to the kneeling person’s forehead.

[Y/N] could only spit at their feet before another gunshot sounded and the image disappeared to black.

You woke up sweating and choking on your breath. Your brain, throbbing with a pain that shot through it like a bullet, didn’t register fast enough that you were standing instead of laying down so when you flailed, you threw yourself off balance and fell forward. Catching a quick glimpse of your surroundings on your way down told you that you were somewhere outside and that it was the dead of night. You tried last minute to brace yourself for a concrete-laden impact.

You were instead greeted with soft fabric and arms wrapping tightly around you.

“Goodness, [Y/N], are you quite alright?”

You squinted at the striped sleepwear for a moment before looking up where Vision’s worried gaze and whirling irises were waiting for you; it took your eyes a moment to fully focus as the pain in your head faded but left a faint ringing behind. Then you looked around at your surroundings; not only were you outside but you were standing in Vision and Wanda’s driveway. Your gaze settled on a particular section of the house’s exterior where you vividly remembered a vaguely human shape exploding out of its walls.

You were standing in the exact same place you had been when it happened.

“[Y/N]?” Vision said again, drawing your attention back to him.

“Oh, cosmo, I’m sorry,” you said but your throat was too dry and you had to stop and clear your throat halfway through. Being in Vision’s arms, you were keenly aware of the fact that you were both in your bedwear and that yours had been sweated through. You slumped against him, partially to hide your embarrassed face but also because you felt like you hadn’t slept at all.

“Vis?”

“Yes, my favorite teacup?”

You snorted softly at that. “You don’t even drink tea.”

“Oh, I know,” Vision lilted back. Then he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I do like the patterns and the daintiness of them though.”

That time you laughed a bit. Feeling his warm breath against your scalp and his strong arms holding you safely in place against him, you almost instantly melted into the embrace. You wrapped your own arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. “What are we doing outside?”

“Ah, yes, about that. You appeared to be sleepwalking again.”

You groaned. “Again? This is a nightmare.”

One of Vision’s hands moved to run itself through your hair and down your neck. “That accident you had the other day certainly did a number on you.”

The accident. In other words, that time where you walked off in the middle of a conversation with Vision, Agnes, and Herb to mumble at a wall and then faceplant onto the sidewalk. Not only was your nose still recovering but your mind and dignity as well.

“The only time I’ve slept well since is when I fell asleep on your couch,” you whined. Then you lowered your voice and grumbled into Vision’s chest.

Vision chuckled. “What was that?”

You looked up at him and scowled. “The four of you are over here in your stupid, big, warm, cozy house. Meanwhile, I’m across the way, alone and uncomfortable, with only Bernard to keep me company. Bernard’s terrible company.”

“Truly,” Vision agreed, grinning slightly. He loved your strange, cute, not at all challenging struggles.

The both of you turned to give the lawn ornament in question a pointed look. Bernard seemed to glower back.

“Well,” Vision said as he pulled away from you a bit, “why don’t you come inside then? Wanda’s up with the babies anyway. You might as well join us, especially if it means you’ll be able to sleep better.” Not taking no for an answer, the synthezoid was already tugging you towards the lit-up porch.

You were too tired to argue and, quite frankly, you didn’t want to, so you allowed yourself to be pulled along as you admired the soft cotton of Vision’s matching pajama set.

“Oh, my.”

“What?” You looked at Vision’s face again only to catch him staring at a spot above your eyes. The porch light glinted off the gem embedded in his own. “What, do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Vision responded slowly, “but you must have done something to it. You have quite the scar.”

Your eyebrows raised. You moved away from him to look at your reflection in one of the windows and surely enough, you had a raised scar on your forehead, near your hairline. You gingerly pressed your fingers against it; it certainly wasn’t new.

A seemingly random thought popped into your head. Is that… a scar from a bullet?

“What on earth did you do to yourself?” Vision asked. Him walking up to stand directly behind you and press his hands to your neck, under the collar of your shirt no less, was more than a little distracting. “You’ve got one back here too.”

You reached back to where Vision was touching and when he removed his fingers, you could feel a similar scar at the base of your neck.

You thought again, Bullet… exit wound…?

Something about the dream you were having earlier called out to you but you couldn’t remember anything about it. When you tried to think about it further, the excruciating pain came back in waves and you had to steady yourself on the windowsill to prevent yourself from collapsing.

“Huh,” you said instead, “I have no idea.”

“They don’t hurt?” Vision questioned. “They’re not just… odd raised bruises perhaps? Welts maybe?”

“No, I don’t think so. They don’t hurt at all, though.” To make a point, you pressed down hard on the raised scar on your forehead, watched the skin turn a few shades lighter before releasing the pressure and dropping your hand again. Under the thick, stiff tissue, you barely felt the pressure at all.

Vision thoughtfully hummed, placing his hands back on the curves of your neck; you prayed to whatever deities existed that you didn’t make any sounds you’d regret.

“Well,” your partner said, “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

A pause. Your eyes stayed trained on the window’s reflection, specifically where you could see Vision’s fingers gently cupping your neck.

Then he abruptly leaned down and pressed a kiss on the scar tissue, missing a pulse point by a hair. “We should head inside then.”

You had to take a solid minute to recover from the shockwave of tingles that briefly made your veins turn into lightning. Then you shuffled after Vision into the ever so inviting house.

Stepping out of chilly darkness and into a home of cozy furniture and warm light that turned the entire place a golden brown felt like walking into another world. An extra added layer of comfort to the usually perfect home was the slight disarray of baby equipment almost everywhere that wasn’t the floor itself, most of which you had gone out and bought during the babies’ day of birth and all of which Vision and Wanda appreciated; somehow, you had prepared for the babies’ accelerated growing on a panicked whim better than the Maximoffs. Tiny baby blankets and stuffed animals were strewn about and each visible part of the house—the living room, the dining area, and the kitchen, although the kitchen was partially blocked off by a drying rack of baby clothes and swaddles of various patterns and sizes—had a designated Baby Tray. These trays, perched on whatever flat surface had been previously free of decor or clutter, held bottles, nonperishable treats, diaper-changing equipment, teething toys, a mini first aid kit for each, and other useful trinkets; the new parents had apparently completely forgotten that almost all their house’s rooms were openly attached to each other and that, if one singular Baby Tray was designated to the dining area, it would take the same amount of about five steps to get to it from either the living area or the kitchen. It was almost comedic, the number of baby care items that were laying anywhere but the floor or in proper storage because, according to Vision, god forbid something gets a speck of dust on it and have to be washed or, according to Wanda, one of the babies be without their favorite toys easily accessible at every given moment. The only thing allowed to touch the ground, aside from feet, was a playpen that now replaced the usual coffee table in the living room area and a play mat in the babies’ room with its attached toys for the twins to play with. A final touch to the hominess was the soft light that you could see streaming out of the baby room’s open door, and the gentle voice of Wanda, singing a Sokovian lullaby, fluttering out of it.

It felt like coming home.

Vision stepped away from your side to clean up somewhat, picking up a few toys and folding baby blankets and onesies to move them aside in case you wanted to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Standing inside now, you could much better make out Vision’s dark blue terry robe over a pair of bright yellow pajama pants that no doubt had a shirt to match hidden beneath dark blue fabric. The yellow of his pants matched the yellow gem that was embedded in his forehead, glittering with an unused power that you had yet to experience and that felt warm whenever you went to place a kiss on it. Poking out from the hems of his robe and pants were perfectly human hands and feet, despite their deep red color that matched the rest of his body; you found the continued presence of fingernails when not in his human disguise—absolutely unnecessary to his design, he’d pointed out when you initially asked about them—weirdly cute and continuously felt the urge to grab nail polish and paint them to match either the color of the gem or the same silver as the plating that started at his scalp and trailed down beneath the collar of his shirt. You briefly wondered how far that plating traveled across his body before mentally kicking yourself.

The greatest thing about this still-fresh reveal of Vision’s inhuman identity—aside from the fact that he was no longer hiding something important from you, obviously—was that you now knew that he wasn’t just difficult to make blush but rather he quite literally couldn’t blush. You wondered what else he could and couldn’t do, only to mentally kick yourself again.

I can’t tell if I’ve gotten worse or better since I’ve started dating them, you thought.

Oh, your brain responded on its own accord, so much worse.

Shhh!

Vision was still puttering why while you stared and inwardly argued with yourself. At this point, he’d cleaned up most of the chaos and moved the stuffed animals and now-folded blankies to sit neatly on the dining area table.

“Vis,” you said.

Before you could continue, the man perked up and looked in your direction. “Yes, duck?”

You blinked. “You make my heart go rainbow-colored. Anyway—” You broke off into a laugh when Vision went flustered, his hands flapping about while he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did I win this round?”

Sometimes Vision got into the habit of ending all of his sentences around you and Wanda with a pet name. When you had first noticed this feat, you’d decided to start doing the same, just to see what would happen. He noticed and began purposely doing it back, where he had previously done it unintentionally, and now doing the occasional back-and-forth conversation that ended in pet names more than punctuation was somewhat of a competition between you two.

Vision scoffed at you, picked up a plushie, and tossed it at you. “Not fair!”

Being in the house that was beginning to feel more like home than your own, around your partners and their sweet baby boys, seemed to shield and reenergize you from the exhaustion you felt after first waking up that night. You caught the stuffed animal, a plushie of a wizard, grinned and tossed it back at him.

“Oh,” Vision chirped, catching the plush wizard again, “I see how it is.” He puffed out his chest and gave you a warning, albeit amused, glare, then picked up a couple more plushes. In a lower, sort of growling voice that made your heart leap out of your chest and into your stomach, he continued, “If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you shall get.”

You yelped as he started in your direction and dived across the front of the couch to get some stuffed animal ammo of your own. He nailed you in the foot with a cream-colored bunny and you returned the favor with a plushie of a witch in a red dress after taking cover behind the playpen. Now each of you was standing where the other had previously been, with you poking your head over the playpen’s sheer wall and Vision slowly pacing around the back of the couch for his second lap. You pulled the playpen with you with one hand as you moved away from him and the two of you began circling each other.

Oh, if Wanda could see her partners now.

“Oh, Wanda—” you started to stand, only to get smacked in the face with a blue teddy bear; luckily, it was of the very soft variety. You stared at Vision in disbelief.

Vision stared back, eyes bulging, unsure of whether he should apologize or prepare for an attack. He was too torn to do either, though, and had to scramble back to avoid an onslaught of stuffed bullets flying his way.

Still aware that it was very late at night, your war-cry was softened, “Revenge!”

Then your attack quickly diminished, partially because you were running out of ammo and Vision wasn’t throwing anything back and partially because Vision was now floating off the ground and heading towards you, arms full of said ammo.

Wow, didn’t know it did that, you thought randomly, eyes fixed Vision floating in general, before specifically fixating on the devilish grin he wore while doing so. He looked like a very handsome, well, vision.

A handsome Vision, if you will, your brain offered. You almost snorted before remembering you had not yet moved to avoid Vision’s floating plushie attack. You stumbled backward and scrambled out of the living room just as Vision started throwing.

“No no no no no nonononono—” You were choking between laughter and squawking as you got up and began running down the hallway to save yourself. “Not fair, not fair not fair, not fair—!”

You ran past the baby room and caught Wanda mid-turnaround, saying, “What on earth is going on out there?” You reeled back to pause in the doorway, caught a glimpse of the babies in their one large crib, smiled, went to pant out an answer—

Only to feel arms wrap around you and drag you back down the hallway. You started to shriek, then forced it into a startled laugh as to not disturb the babies, and flailed around in Vision’s arms as he lifted you off the ground. It was brief, though, because then your struggling caught Vision off balance and the two you tumbled to the ground. There, you both harmlessly pummeled each other until you both were out of breath and snickering, and you somehow ended up with his top half under you but his legs pinning down your own.

“You can fly?” you bubbled. You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks in your hands. “What the hell?”

He laughed and nodded, and one of his hands caught your own. He glanced up at you as he kissed your palm and replied, “Yes, just a little.”

“Just a little—”

“And his wife can move things with her mind, like the crib she just finished rocking to put the boys back to sleep, and if she has to do it again because of her partners’ roughhousing…”

You and Vision quickly disentangled yourselves from each other and looked up at Wanda, whose face said serious but whose eyes twinkled with amusement and who looked no less terrifying in a pale pink, puff-sleeved nightgown.

You got up and straightened your clothes, with Vision following closely behind. “I will very happily take over the next shift because I started it and I’m very sorry.”

“What? Nonsense, [Y/N], I threw the first stuffed animal.”

“I threw it back,” you pointed out.

“Neither of you better have thrown and hit something,” Wanda warned.

You glanced at Vision for confirmation; you didn’t exactly see much when you were chucking plushies aplenty and then running from your flying boyfriend.

Vision nodded. “Nothing at all, although I did make the evaluation that we do have a plethora of plushies and baby blankets.”

“I thought I was the one who pointed that out when you first gave me the shopping list, but okay,” you huffed under your breath, then grinned with Vision lightly bumped you with his hip. “So, the babies having a bad night?”

“Actually, they were apparently worried about you,” Wanda said.

That made your head do a confused tilt. “Me?”

“Ah, yes,” Vision nodded, “We fell asleep with them in the living room and Billy started crying. We woke up to figure out what was wrong and Wanda saw you standing outside.”

Wanda added, “Tommy started crying shortly after I walked to the door with him like he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Aww,” you cooed, peering over Wanda’s shoulder to see the babies. She stepped to the side so you could walk in and shuffle over to the crib, and she and Vision stood nearby as you crouched down to brush a hand over their little sleeping heads. You continued, much softer this time, “Were the boys trying to make sure I was safe? Are they my little protectors? My little superheroes?”

Tommy gurgled happily in his sleep. Billy remained quiet but his head leaned into your hand.

You looked up at their parents with big, awestruck eyes to see them leaning comfortably into each other, watching you with the same level of affection you felt for them and their babies.

“Heroes indeed,” Vision said. He walked over as you stood up again and lightly rocked the crib; Wanda strolled over to join the group. He continued to the twins in baby-talk, “But no hero-ing until after college, my little honeydews. For now, leave the protecting to your parents.”

“Especially this one,” Wanda chirped, making her way over to your side and slipping her arm around your back. “They’re a handful.”

You faked a gasp, “I’m a treasure.”

“You’re a putz,” Wanda said simply, with a smirk and a light pinch to your hip.

You gasped harder and stared at her with utter betrayal.

“A goof,” Vision chimed in. He slipped his own arm around you, the final piece of your three-person puzzle.

You gasped harder still— and almost choked on air. Then you looked to the babies. “Bullies! Bullies, both of them! Billy, Tommy, you must protect me!”

Very enthusiastically, neither baby did anything.

“I’ve been betrayed yet again,” you cried, not too loudly, though. You slumped against Vision and Wanda’s waiting arms. “Betrayed by my own brood!”

“Your brood?” Wanda questioned, quirking a brow. Vision was giggling softly at your other side.

“Yes,” you whispered, looking at her with wide, distraught eyes, “My brood. My pack. My murder.”

“Your what?” Vision said.

“It’s a group of crows,” you explained under your breath, before slumping down farther and continuing your distraught monologue. “I’m all alone! Oh, the horror—”

“Well,” Wanda said, “We’re supporting you very well a family that has completely abandoned you.”

You flopped your head back in her direction. You were so far to the ground now that you were practically on your knees, only your arms and shoulders being held by Wanda and Vision. You traced fingers lamely across each of their arms. “So strong, those who once held me…”

The married couple exchanged an amused but mysterious look.

“Wanda, darling,” Vision said, “They seem to have gone delusional.”

Wanda nodded sagely in response. “Clearly lost their mind.”

You squinted, glancing between them. What were they up to?

“To the ward with you,” Wanda suddenly announced.

Then you caught a red glow by your feet, but not fast enough before you were swept up into the air on a cloud of red mist. You burst into startled laughter but quickly slapped a hand over your mouth so you didn’t wake up the children. Once you relaxed—enough to stop laughing anyway, not enough to not be freaking out about being magically escorted out of the nursery—you waved your hands through the red; it felt like waving your hands through the open air. The only thing actually felt was the pressure on the back of your body that was holding you afloat and carrying you out of the room, but when you tried to balance on it and move to a different position, all you did was squirm and twist awkwardly in the air before flopping back down. You craned your neck, mostly to make sure Tommy and Billy hadn’t woken up from your outburst, but you only caught Wanda, hands glowing red, following you out of the room and Vision trailing after wishing his babies a goodnight.

You looked back at the ceiling for a moment. After you heard the nursery door shut, you asked at a normal volume, “I’m not gonna fall, right?”

“Not unless I let you,” Wanda reassured you. You couldn’t see her but the teasing tone of her voice made you imagine her with a smirk. A smirk, narrowed eyes, her pretty nightgown floating around her, magical powers that she could definitely use to crush you if she wanted to and you’d probably thank her if she did.

Wow, okay, I either need to confess my sins or go to sleep.

“Why?” Wanda asked suddenly.

“Why what?” you choked back, heat rushing to your face. Surely, she couldn’t read your thoughts…

“Why ask if you would fall?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started flopping around in the cloud of magic, testing the proverbial waters; you were being taken to the living area now. You heard both Wanda and her husband laughing from beneath and behind you when you settled again.

Vision asked through chuckling, “What could you possibly be doing?”

You suddenly flung yourself to one of the magic surrounding you, thinking maybe you would fall through, but the magic held. You huffed and laid back again but not before you caught a glimpse of the couch that you now hovered over. You grasped at the magic again, watching it wisp through your fingers but feeling nothing at all. “This is so cool.”

Wanda’s voice was softer when she spoke this time. “You think?”

You couldn’t hold back the disbelieving laughter that bubbled up. Suddenly breathless out of sheer excitement of learning more about the people you cared for most, you sighed, “Wanda, baby, you must know that you’re amazing.”

Then you squawked as the magic suddenly disappeared around you, but instead of falling straight to the couch below, Vision flew up to catch you. He held you bridal style as he gently dropped back to his feet next to the couch, grinning—he very rarely just smiled, it was always a big, happy grin when it was directed at you or Wanda or the babies—and giving you a peck on the forehead when you stared up at him, doe-eyed.

“Got my own Superman, too,” you said, “Damn.”

Vision plopped you down on the couch. “Who?”

“Comic book character,” you responded with a wave of your hand, “Doesn’t matter. You’re far better looking than him anyway.”

You shifted a bit to get more comfortable and watched as glowing red magic started swirling all around you. The magic was misty, red around the edges and glowing orange-white in the center, picking up the scattered toys from your and Vision’s scuffle and tossing them into the playpen, pulling said playpen out of the way and sliding the original coffee table back from its place against the wall, picking up any other stray blankets or baby items and placing them neatly out of the way; it also straightened out Vision’s robe and ruffled your hair. Part of the magic moved out of your line of vision, so you twisted to follow it and saw it taking the baby clothes off the drying rack to fold and put on the counter next to it, then continued watching as it folded the rack itself and moved it out of the way.

Wanda was now in your sight again too; she was standing still, palms up with magic flowing outward from the red clouds around them, and looking around to see if there was anything else she needed to put away. She was also blushing, from you calling her baby or saying she’s amazing, you couldn’t tell. After staring for probably way too long, probably looking at her with the same starry-eyed, dopey look that a teenager had at their first concert or after a first kiss, her gaze flitted to yours and made a nose-scrunching face at you before finishing her magical cleanup and making her way over to the couch as well.

You slumped back in the pile of throw pillows behind you, covered your face with your hands, and flutter-kicked your feet few times. “This is so cool!”

You felt a nudge at your feet and you raised your legs so he could sit, then did the same with your head when you felt Wanda’s hand brush across your forehead. When they were both seated, you laid your legs and head on their respective laps and the three of you settled into the comfortable position that had been adopted long after your relationship had started.

That is until you quickly sat up again. “Is that how you unpacked your house so quickly?”

Wanda smiled and nodded. She rested a cheek in the palm of her hand, endeared by your wonderment towards her powers.

“Is that you unpacked my house?”

Another nod.

“And the magic show was real— Wait.” You scowled. “But all the pulleys and stuff.”

“That was, ah, my bad,” Vision offered with a raised hand.

“Covering for him actually using his powers,” Wanda explained.

“I knew the mirrors didn’t make sense with you putting your hat through your body!” you exclaimed. “So flight, super strong, and… not sure what to call that last one. What was with you that day, by the way? You acted drunk, but you can’t get drunk!”

“I swallowed some gum,” Vision muttered, glancing away and rubbing the side of his neck. His other hand waved towards his torso as he continued, “It got all… stuck. Gummed up my gears, if you will.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at the pun. You snickered at it.

“I had to magic it out of him,” she added.

Your gaze flitted back and forth between your two superhuman partners multiple times as you took in the information. Because you were sitting between the two, this involved the turning of your head various times, which made your head swim a bit. You almost wished that they were both sitting to one side of you.

Instead of suggesting this, you settled your gaze to stare aimlessly ahead and said simply, “I’m dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar people in the world. How the hell did I manage that?”

“Charisma,” Vision offered, even though you and him both knew at this point how you’d weirdly creeped on him at the office the first day the two of you met.

“Sheer force of will,” Wanda suggested, but you guaranteed she was remembering how, for the few dates you went on with them, you’d had to be reminded that you were actually on dates and that they weren’t just casual friendly hangouts.

You looked between them once more and then you wished you had suggested they sit to one side of you. Despite their steady, comfortable voices, Wanda was in the process of hiding her flustered face behind the curtain of her hair and Vision was chewing on his lip and couldn’t seem to keep his hands and feet from tapping away.

“Okay,” you said after a moment, patting your thighs to do something with your hands. “I’m grasping that you guys don’t agree with me here. Wanda, go sit by him so I don’t get whiplash from trying to look at you both.”

You and Wanda quickly switched places. You sat cross-legged on the couch to face them and Wanda and Vision shifted around to sit in a way that allowed them to face you without one blocking the other. After a moment, you waved your hands at them; the cheery air has since faded into something more somber. “What is it? Tell me why you get all quiet like that when I tell you, with evidence, why you’re the actual grooviest people I’ve ever met.”

There were a few more moments of silence before Vision went to speak first, which surprised Wanda. She looked at him, eyebrows raised high on her forehead, and lightly grasped his wrist.

“Vis?” she murmured.

He sighed softly and placed his other hand over hers. “Oh, it’s really nothing dear, I promise. It’s just… Well, you’ve heard how the people of the cul-de-sac talk about us sometimes.”

“Mean girls,” you grumbled under your breath with a nod, “the lot of them sometimes.”

Wanda seemed to suddenly sag with sadness and both you and Vision reached over quickly to hold her.

“Oh, darling,” Vision said, “It’s not your fault—”

“That’s not true,” Wanda whispered.

“It is true,” Vision said, and this time he said it with a fierceness that was familiar to you, whenever Wanda was being treated poorly by people like the Queen of the Cul-de-Sac, Dotty, or when Wanda decided to get down on herself. He grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezed them until she looked up at him. “Wanda, darling, love, I didn’t exist before I meant you. I mean, I did, of course, I did, but I was just this strange, non-human, non-machine thing that was just… kind of… there. It was you that gave me an existence, Wanda. You made me human.”

Both you and Wanda stared at him, surprised. Wanda stared because she obviously didn’t fully agree with his opinion of her. You stared because of course, you were dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar, and most romantic people ever.

Get yourself a man like that, you thought. Then after a moment, Wait, that is in fact also my man.

“And you—” Vision said, turning his head in your direction.

“Oh, I’m next?” you stammered. “I thought it was Wanda’s turn.”

Vision still held Wanda but also reached over to tightly grasp your hand and bring it to his mouth. “I just wished we could have confessed to you sooner. I just hate, hate, hated lying to you and now you’re involved with all this too—”

The synthezoid with the English accent looked up at you with eyes begging forgiveness as if he’d committed one of the worst sins imaginable. You let out a hoarse laugh and ran your thumb across the side of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you said, still chuckling as you wriggled closer to your couple, “but as much as you might like to think you’ve subjected me to something I didn’t sign up for, I’d like to point out that I’ve been about a month ahead of you. I was here before you.” You felt a nagging urge to look at Wanda and repeat the last sentence, and there was something extra special about saying it that second time like there was a double and then a triple meaning behind it, but the way you both furrowed your brows afterward made it clear that neither of you really knew what those meanings were.

Not yet, anyway.

You cleared your throat and removed your hand from Vision’s grasp to place it on the back of the couch. “I moved into this town with no husband or wife, no family, nothing but a pile of letters and a new deed to a new house that happened to be the smallest in the neighborhood. My first week here I told one man in front of the entire night watch that I thought the joke he made about his wife was distasteful, and then the week after I tripped and spilled wine all over his wife. Agnes brought because she thought I’d be a form of entertainment and we somehow ended up becoming friends over a flask that she hid in a pocket sewed into the inside of her skirt.” You offered a look to Wanda again while you mentioned that Agnes never thought your “for the children” jokes were all that funny, though. “I’ve dealt with the comments and the rumors and the ‘what’s wrong with them, they don’t have no kids!’ People are weird and they’re mean and they’re fun and they suck. You want human, dude? You got it. If I was still bothered by comments that are nothing but a bummer, I think I’d be trying a little bit more than wearing clothes that I enjoy over the clothes that are expected of me, telling Dotty she needs to stop being awful before she gets frown lines, or, you know, pining over two people—a married couple nonetheless—until I somehow seduced them with my staring at them from around corners and just generally horrible, awful attempts at eye contact.”

The married couple in question chortled at that.

You used your hand on the back of the couch to hoist yourself up on your knees so you towered over Vision just slightly.

“Here’s the thing, sunshine,” you continued, “I’m not in your boat on this one, you dorks, you’re in mine. I was here first and I don’t give a fuck.”

Wanda gave a sudden laugh. “What language.”

“Has he not told you about the time I said ‘Fuck you’ to a plastic bird in my garden?” you asked. “Multiple times? His name is Bernard and he’s plotting to kill me, I swear.”

Wanda’s troubled expression was split by a wobbly smile.

You threw up your arms in the dramatic fashion that you knew the two people in front of you loved and hollered—then quickly quieted back down to not disturb Billy and Tommy in the other room—“All this for my rambling putz ass to say, who cares about what’s outside this house! You two, and your kids, and I are the only people that matter here. Here being the house, Westview, whatever! Everyone else? Nonexistent.

“Also, just to clarify,” you paused to wave your arms around, gesturing at the entire house, “Love it here. Love this shit.”

You suddenly caught Vision’s slacked jaw in your hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. “This face? Love it.” You moved to peck a spot of silver on his skull. “Love this too.” You pecked the gem on his forehead and swore it glowed brighter in response. “Love this.” You pecked one of his ear plates. “Love these goofy things.” You pecked the tip of his nose. “Love this and the fact that you have it even though you don’t technically even need to breathe. Oh, speaking of which!”

You lifted one of his hands with one of your own and tapped on his red fingernails with your other. You caught a glimpse of his face now that yours wasn’t directly in front of it and noticed him trying to hold back a giddy smile—and failing—while he watched you from underneath red lashes; your whole body would have tried to twist itself in knots under that look if you weren’t too busy swearing to kiss those eyelids and lashes too, at another time. Instead, you pecked each fingertip of the hand you were holding. “Love these ‘useless to my design’ things too. You know what, just speaking of hands—” You dropped Vision’s hand, which made itself to your waist as you went to grab Wanda’s; you were vaguely aware that you were practically leaning into their laps at that point but that could be dealt with when you weren’t trying to make a point.

When you went to touch her, she let you hold her wrist but quickly squeezed her hand into firsts before you could hold it like you had with Vision’s. She was looking away.

You pressed a kiss to her whitening knuckles. “Wanda.”

She looked at you, her perfect face distorted by a deep sadness that almost shattered your heart on the spot. She tightened her first further. The deep emotion appeared to make her slip back into her natural Sokovian accent when she spoke again. “You don’t know the pain it’s caused.”

“I’ve done my fair share,” you affirmed even though you weren’t quite sure why. Then you kissed her knuckles again. “And maybe I don’t, but I know what good it’s caused, that you have.”

Her face twisted into an ugly grimace. She asked hoarsely, “Like what?”

“The first time I saw your face, I wanted to go to space, grab the moon, shrink it down—so it looked like one of those cool little lava rocks, you know? But prettier—and get it put on a ring,” you offered, then kissed the back of her hand and whispered, “and that’s after I found out you were married to a very attractive man too…”

Vision snorted. Wanda cracked the smallest of smiles.

You whispered lower, “And I may or may not have even been interested in marriage before that…”

That time Wanda rolled her eyes; you smiled and grabbed her other clenched hand to share the attention with. You continued, “You’re also so nice, like so nice. You are so kind and care about what people think so much, it’s almost buggy—and bordering on self-destructive but that’s not what we’re talking about— And I sort of get it now, you know, but wow, making your magic show worse for the sake of people’s sanity? Wouldn’t even be on my radar.”

Another little smile.

“I’d be like, ‘Who wants to see me turn this entire table into a rosebush! Dotty’s rosebush specifically; Dotty, I stole your rosebush.’ I actually did steal a rose from her bush that day.”

Wanda blinked and you noticed the lines of her expression weren’t as deeply etched into her face anymore.

“That was Dotty’s?”

You grinned and nodded, then kissed both of her hands. “Also, I love your hair and the way it perfectly frames your perfect face, and I love your little nose scrunches, and I love your eyelashes and the way you look at me from under them sometimes, and I’d kiss all those things but I’m not going to because I gotta get these stubborn, always-working, never-wanna-take-a-break, always-somehow-perfect-nails-having hands to relax before they hurt themselves even though it’s very clearly hard enough to make who woman who owns them do the same. Oh, I did I mention that smile—hoo, Wanda, that foxy smile…”

Wanda was blushing now and bringing up her smile made it happen again, just slightly. You took advantage of the moment anyway and flung yourself back onto the couch with a hand over your heart. “Be still, my pounding heart!”

Vision, who was watching by your and Wanda’s sides, laughed a bit. Wanda herself rolled her eyes again; the smile didn’t disappear afterward.

You sat up again and pointed at Vision, now that he’d brought attention to himself again. “And I don’t know whether you heard any of the stuff this guy said! You made him exist? You made him human? What? You two also do this thing where you just look at each other and have a whole conversation, I don’t know if you guys know you do that or not. You do, though, and I don’t know if either or both of you are psychic but if you are and still love me? With my unhinged brain? Migraines and all? I wouldn’t understand, even if you explained it to me.”

Vision offered, “Neither of us is psychic but anyway, please continue.”

“Have anything to add?”

“You’re doing wonderfully.”

“Thank you.” You looked back and Wanda, noting that her face had almost completely softened now, as she was too busy being flustered to be sad at this point. You quickly scooped her hands before they could curl into fists again placed kissed on each of the crescent moon-shaped marks now dug into their palms. “Your magic rocked your babies to sleep. Your magic cleaned up all their and put it all in one nice, neat place. You floated me around the house with your magic and even protected me from falling when I was wriggling around up there; bet that was fun for both of you to watch. Vision said earlier that that was your job, to protect me, and while I don’t fully agree because I consider it the other way around, is that not what you did?”

“I thought it was cute,” Wanda replied softly to the second to last sentence you said. She watched as you gave her hands a few more pecks.

“So, you agree then,” you said, “that your magic protected me and also made me cuter?”

She laughed and the sound made your heart soared, performing an aerial performance in your chest. She tried to wriggle her hands free from you but then you scowled and tucked them protectively under your chin.

“Gotta say it. Gotta say your magic made me cute.”

“I’m not saying that.”

You shrugged and got comfy, laying your head in her lap with her hands still hidden. “Have to. Otherwise, no hands for you. Oh, did I not mention how good you are to your kids yet? You’re so good—”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Wanda forfeited through a wet laugh. Hearing said laugh, your head shot up in concern, but the woman was smiling as she snagged your hands back; what she chose to do with them next was grab your face and place a kiss directly on your mouth.

It was quick and soft and sweet and absolutely none of that prevented the fireworks that went off in your skull and your chest and your stomach and your veins that made tingles shoot all the way down to your toes. She pulled away as quickly as she had moved in and you blinked; your brain was still short-circuiting, like a robot—like a Vision with his gears all gummed up, and your dazed brain thought that was a very funny connection, so it repeated the joke verbally.

Luckily, Vision was close enough to the level of dork that you were and he laughed at it with you.

It took a deep breath and a head shake to de-gum your brain—if only Wanda could magic that—but after the excitement wore off, you felt sleepiness start creeping in and decided to make your final push. You curled a hand around both of your partners’ necks and brought their faces closer to nuzzle your noses together; they responded by each of them wrapping an arm around your waist and returning the affectionate action.

“So, in conclusion,” you stated, which caused Vision to laugh lightly and Wanda to grin just slightly, “I love both of these perfect faces.” You kissed each of their noses. “And these funky, magical brains.” You kissed Wanda at the base of her hairline, then Vision just below his forehead gem. “And these equally funky, magical hands.” You grabbed the hands not looped around your waist and kissed the back of them. “And both of those babies, and this house, and y—”

You sucked in a sudden breath to stop yourself so hard that you almost choked and you reeled back to the other side of the couch only to drag Vision and Wanda with you. The three of you tumbled into a flustered heap on the couch and over their shoulders, you could see early morning light filtering through the windows. This barely registered, though, as you were too busy focusing on the fact that you almost L-worded them on a silly, tired whim.

Despite the awkwardness of the moment and the unspoken words, no one made a move to remove themselves from the warm, cozy entanglement. One of both Wanda and Vision’s arms was pinned under your back, keeping them solid in place against you while simultaneously and successfully enveloping you in between them; your own arms, which had instinctively wrapped protectively around their shoulders in the tumble, kept them in a similar state. Wanda’s hair fanned found and covered the three of you like a blanket, and you were keenly aware of her breath softly wafting over the exposed skin of your neck from where her head now rested on your shoulder. Vision’s rested slightly lower, on your chest, and you felt a quickened pulse where his gem pressed into your neck, but you couldn’t be sure whether it was yours or his.

You stared past their shoulders and watched as sunlight shone through the curtains and dappled the ceiling. You tried to figure out whether you were stupider for stopping yourself from finishing that sentence or for not saying it at all.

Then you felt a kiss being pressed to your clothed shoulder.

“You’ve said so many things that you’ve loved tonight [Y/N],” Wanda murmured, her hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “What’s two more?”

“I—” you started, then bit your tongue again. There was something about saying that phrase that made you worried; you felt like if you said it now, the happy little world you lived in would begin to crumble, like it would all end far too soon. You sighed softly and said instead, “I don’t know how I would live without you.”

There were a few moments of silence where you watched more sunlight filter in and wished you could take it back because what a way to talk a big game and then not follow through—

Then Vision’s head appeared above you and he pressed a dizziness-inducing kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose with his own as he murmured, “I love you too.”

In almost the same moment, Wanda was mumbling the same phrase against your jawline.

Sleepy and hazy-brained you couldn’t do much else but stare at Vision like a lovesick puppy that struggled to say that L-word, then snuggle back down with both him and Wanda when they relaxed against you again. That seemed to be the last of what needed to be said, though, because everything was cozy and warm and golden brown in your home again and, one by one, the three of you fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, you heard the vaguely familiar First Voice finish chewing something and then go, “Aww…”

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warmau · 4 years

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☆ lovestruck!au jisung find others here: jeno | chenle | haechan

ive never been a good liar

jisung thinks as he keeps his eyes on the familiar city streets

peddling easily around the corners and up the hills until he comes to a stop in front of the schools main gate

ive never been a good liar, but ive got to learn how to become one. there’s just no way theyre going to live it down when they find out i have a crush on-

“jisung?”

he turns and nearly loses his grip on the handle bars when he sees you

you light up and clasp your hands together

“i knew it was you! are we in the same class this year?”

you’re taking steps closer to him, jisung is aware that your hair is slightly shorter then when he saw you last at the beginning of summer

your backpack is different, youre wearing some kind of necklace he’s never seen before

for what its worth - past the little details jisung wishes he wasnt so vigilant about - you still look like you

you still are the most beautiful person jisung thinks hes ever seen

he drops down to chain his bike to one of the posts before shooting back up to try and formulate some kind of greeting for you

but he doesnt even have to, for his brain goes static when you reach out to touch his shoulder

your eyes go wide, jisung thinks he sees the hold world reflected in them

“you got taller!”

“i-i guess so.”

jisung knows this is off to a bad start.

for one, he feels like he’s sweating through his uniform and the sticky feeling makes his head spin

two, the image of him walking through the class doors with you by his side is going to be cause for uproar in his friend group

and three, the worst of them all, is that somehow in this awkward atmosphere he manages to feel a whole flurry of butterflies spin and flutter in his stomach

because your fingers brush his and you keep laughing about some summer anecdote you’re telling him

and the sound is like an angel’s hymn

“oh! we are in the same class - i hope we get stuck for cleaning duty together, you can reach the top of the lockers so easily now, huh?”

you reach to pick up jisung’s wrist and hold it high above your head

he looks down at you

im such a bad liar, the guys are going to ask if i like them and im going to try and say no but im such a bad-

“ooooo am i sensing a summer romance in the air?”

na jaemin twirls over before jisung can even finish his thought

jeno and chenle smirk at his sides as jisung quickly slips his wrist from your hold

“well if it isn’t you troublemakers”

you roll your eyes as jaemin casts another starry-eyed look between you two, chenle - jisung’s closest friend - nudges him in the side

leaning up to whisper in his ear; “did you ask them out?”

jisung clenches his teeth and says; “no, why would i?”

chenle gives him an unconvinced look

the kind that reads ‘you’re joking right? you obviously like them’

but thankfully chenle is too good of a friend to spill it out loud

or at least jisung hopes thats the case

either way - you get called over by your own friend group and jisung realizes he’s about to face the relentless teasing he’d been dreading

jaemin is smiling at him in that foxish, glinting way and jeno is wiggling his eyebrows

“i dont like them, stop pushing it.”

jisung manages to say

but something in his voice sounds almost weak

“uhuh”

the three friends of his nod in unison, but when they all pass your desk - they point fingers at jisung’s back and wink

you brush it off and jisung tries to do the same

but he reckons its harder for him since, he ..... actually does like you

as soon as he settles into his seat, he feels something hit his shoulder and fall onto his desk

he opens the note, obviously written in jaemin’s handwriting

its your name, surrounded by hearts and badly drawn kisses

jisung groans and lets his forehead hit the desk

he was right

he really needs to figure out how to lie better otherwise he’s going to suffer forever

as predicted, jisung’s feelings for you don’t get any smaller

not when you catch up with him as he’s wheeling his bike through the gates every morning

when you end up sitting beside him during gym and leaning so close that you could practically swing your leg over his

and half of jisung’s mind is screaming and the other half is trying to divert his attention anywhere else but on the fact that you smell like fresh daisies during GYM no less

not when you get paired up for physics lab and jisung realizes that instead of studying you two have been goofing around for an hour

naturally enjoying each others humor and presence until you look down at your notebooks and there is nothing there but the doodles you did on each others pages

and as predicted, jisung doesn’t get any better at lying

in fact - he thinks he’s getting worse

because now when he gets teased at jaemin for staring at you

or when jeno and chenle write you and jisung’s name on the chalkboard - getting chased down by the TA

jisung doesn’t even ....... fight it anymore

what’s the point, he could say “no! no i don’t like them!” but no one would believe it

so he just lets it happen, he doesn’t say anything, and he’s too scared to look at your reaction from the corner of his eye

because he knows itll hurt

because he knows youre not lying when you say

“we’re just friends.”

but all of it at some point comes to a head

because he can’t tell lies anymore

and you aren’t getting any less perfect in his eyes

so when he walks into the classroom after basketball practice and hears

“you know, you’re jisung’s ideal type.”

someone - its not even jaemin or jeno or even chenle, its just some random person - says this

and you, in the quietest syllables ever go

“no, im not.”

jisung thinks, or actually he doesn’t even think he just knows that

im such a bad liar.

but that’s a good thing because i always say what i feel.

“yes you are.”

you turn and the room around you disappears

the corner of your lips go up a little, in that way they always do when you’re nervous

and you say, “what?”

as if you don’t believe it

jisung’s mind has never been more clear than now, when he takes you by the hand and pulls you out into the hallway

all your classmates gather at the door to hear what is going to be said

until chenle jumps up from his seat and catches his bestfriends eye

he nods, closing the door and giving you and jisung some privacy

you still have that look on your face, the one that matches the shocked “what?” you just asked jisung

outside the open window of the hall the sweet scent of hydrangeas floats up

the reality of the situation is hitting jisung in waves - but he’s already come this far

“i like you.”

he looks to the side and then clears his throat, just to say it again

but this time he adds, “you’re more than my ideal type. you’re you....and everything about you...”

he can’t find the words, he hasn’t experienced being so lovestruck before so its hard

but as he’s sort of trying to collect what to say next, you put your hands on his cheeks and force him to meet your eyes again

you’re smiling, and your eyes are smiling and jisung thinks that before he saw the whole world in them

now he thinks he sees the universe and beyond

you press your lips to his just as the door swings open

you and jisung both turn to look and jaemin is there this time

“excuse me for the interruption.”

he says, shutting the door with a hard slam once again

you giggle and then look back at jisung, whose so pink the face it looks like hes got a sunburn coming on

“park jisung, i like you too.”

even though you just kissed him, jisung can’t help but ask -

“really?”

“you think you’re the only bad liar? i cant lie to save my life.”

he laughs and feels your hand take his own

the sudden affection almost makes him hiccup as he tries to say something

but his hearts beating so fast he can barely manage the words

its always better to tell the truth anyway, right?

#nct dream scenarios #nct dream au #jisung scenarios #jisung au #sfw #nct dream #park jisung #nct dream imagines #jisung imagines #lovestruck au #im na jaemin minding other peoples business

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floralkittygambler · 3 years

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HuskerDust - More Toxic Than You Think [LONG]

This is the rough version of a deeper and more complex subject I want to ‘decorate’ with more ‘screencaps’. DISCLAIMER: This is allegedly controversial and led to me getting literal death threats and an ED triggered. Ive about heard a lot of people’s shit on this so dont try it. I’m speaking from personal experiences too - experiences I really fuckin dont wanna be sharin yet they kinda validate my points. I want people to be aware of the damaging image from someone who can speak from experience without attracting dickheads or people twisting things. Again, I aint particularly comfortable sharing this so yeah- Be courteous- TW AHEAD - ALSO LONG ASS READ. DNI STANS OR ANTIS. May tag a few folks, may not. HuskerDust is an extremely popular ship in the community however there’s glaringly obvious flaws in this one-sided relationship that both the fans and even the team fail to see. Neglecting the dangerous real world implications this ship [as well as many others] present to it’s audience - especially the more influenced of the audience, most who are children.

Angel flirts with all the male cast however one who catches his eye the most is Husk. Now I want to point out a few things [of many... obviously]; Angel is instantly starry eyed upon seeing Husk, likewise he actually started off with a ‘Hey~’ instead of something sexual. However he quickly ruins this after Husk tells him to go fuck himself [defined by: “ go fuck yourselfphrase of fuckVULGAR SLANGan exclamation expressing anger or contempt for, or rejection of, someone.” ie, he rejected instantly] by responding with an offer to allow Husk to essentially watch him masterbate. Alongside this, he cradles his face. Husk pulls away and seems to pull a face to express rage/disgust or growling imagery alongside COMPLETELY withdrawing his body away from Angel as Angel stares with goo-goo eyes. Firstly, Angel loves animals - perhaps it’s Husk appearing cute that adds to this, however Im not going to address animal imagery just yet. Secondly, Angel isn’t really portrayed to respect other’s boundaries BUT he does respect... Alastor’s. Al declines the blowjob to which Angel shrugs and doesn’t push this matter any further. With Husk, he’s pretty harshly told to piss off yet he makes quite and explicitly sexual remark, alongside invading his personal space and touching a man clearly disinterested and pulling away. From the initial rejection, it then becomes sexual harassment. I also want to add that Husk comes with [some] perks in his feline form. And if my name didnt make it obvious, I work with and live with cats on a daily. Briefly, I have been educated in how to understand cat’s language in various individual cat as well as how to handle and work with them. Cats are often drawn towards me and Ive been successful with various types of cats. My most recent being a cat I’ve dubbed as Big - Big was abandoned quite young and has lived most his life on the streets [where I live is high in crime and drug rings, so you can imagine how strays are treated] leading to him being extremely fearful and hating people, hissing and fleeing just seeing people. I took time out last summer to finally give befriending him a shot. It’s taken just under a year of hard work and now he visits every day for his mush [wet food] and kisses, responds to his name and runs up to me in delight. Ive even taught him a phrase to signal that I dont want him or the other cat’s to fight [keeps them all safe and aids them becoming acquainted under supervision - something that’s been working surprisingly well]. I apologise in advance as this is not going to be the first instance of this sort of thing but they are relevant. Trying my best to keep it as brief. For Husk, I will be using a mix of cat and human characteristics to break down his reactions. In this first interaction, he turns his body away in a way to suggest caution, wariness and disinterest. In fact, much of his general body language is that of a man deeply closed off from connections - for starters, he folds his arms quick a bit which suggests lack of openness, shutting off and defensiveness *usually*. Likewise, when touched, he slightly jumps and tenses before pulling back in aggression with flattered ears - a sign cats give to display extreme hostility in a situation. It’s NEVER a good thing but then again, neither is crossing someone’s boundaries. It’s even stated that Husk hates Angel’s advances and wishes for nothing to do with him - the same dislike of sexual advances that Al dislikes in Angel. The ending as they all walk inside, Angel turns to Husk, winking and blowing a kiss his way despite the clear rejection earlier. In fact, Husk once again grows tense and is even irked by such a gesture. This won’t be the last mention of Angel totally disregarding how Husk feels - something that rubs off onto the fans AND the team themselves. And it’s... *concerning*, to phrase it lightly. Angel so far is the most persistent towards the most resistant, and in my post on RadioDust I have already established [briefly] on how Angel seems to chase unavailable men. The more unavailable, the more tempting. The one that got away, mentality. It’s not healthy. And I’m surprised so few have acknowledged this. Taking a break from what we’ve seen in the Pilot, let’s establish some facts about the pair. Angel died in 1947 in his 30s [some posts specify 34-35], putting his birth year around 1911-12ish. Husk died in the 70s IN his 70s [again, nothing is truly specified, so for both we’ll go with 75 - the same number in his IG username] that puts birth year roughly 1900′s. Now an age gap between two adults of 11 - 12 years difference is actually reasonable and can work, depending on circumstance and whether theres a balance in power or not. But when we account for their life experiences and death ages, it’s something else entirely. Angel died young. Not only that but his mind seems more stuck in his raunchy teens than of an adult. And even THEN, he wouldnt be one to necessarily settle down [by which I mean in life, not romance]. He’s extremely emotionally stunted and his selfishness and wanting his own way come off very spoilt [when Husk is pissed off about the cat costume, Angel gets moody because he’s used to compliments AND is dressing to impress Husk. When Husk wanted the money he was rightfully owed, Angel threw a fit for ages until starting to earn it back - even though he owed Husk a drink, which I’ll be coming back to, Husk still wanted the money in the end perhaps hinting to only accepting a freebie as it’s on offer as well as Angel being overly persistent. He even dumps his pig onto Husk to look after, while theres no issue in pet sitting, Angel said Husk ‘owed’ him due to missing the show yet when HE owed Husk, he threw a fit.]. Angel’s life style is wildly chaotic in life AND death, and even though we all know he’s most likely going to be redeemed, he still lacks a lot of experiences in life. He lacks maturity. On the other hand, Husk’s been through his own share of chaos and heartbreak. Difference is, he’s had a life time of experience. He doesn’t act immature in a childish sense. He truly behaves like a downtrodden old man. He’s had his days and would feel more secure settling down in a more peaceful environment with fun yet much needed calm. A better way to handle his need for risk. Age gaps in adults that are large [75 - 35 = 40 years!] are far less likely to work for a multitude of reasons. The main reason is the difference in life stages - that difference in mentality and experiences plays such an impacting role on compatibility. Often their goals and energies are polar opposites and their common grounds minimal. There’s also the looming concern of power dynamics. Whilst it’s usually the older figure that’s holds the power advantage, in this case it’s a little bit more complicated. I’d argue that it’s possibly Angel with the higher power. This rarely works irl but it’s POSSIBLE. Look at Hugh Heffner and his last partner before his death. I believe she was around 22. However there’s many common grounds, immediate attraction, and similar goals. Though incorrect, Heffner does give off a pimp-like vibe (he’s not but you get what I’m implying with mothlike imagery). Husk does not strike me as that type. It would definitely cheapen his character. In terms of interests, the main thing they have in common is that they like to drink. A bad habit, especially when one is an alcoholic. Both are also rather lazy except for certain circumstances [Husk will go out of his way to help HOWEVER he’s obliged to under Al, the only one he’s seen to willingly help and bond with/be seen with is Niffty. Angel is when there’s a fight, chaos, drama or any sex work]. Both are also rather snarky and vulgar. In terms of love, both suffer intimacy issues. On Husk, it’s ‘losing the ability to love a long time ago’ meaning he was likely cheated on or at least had a failed relationship. If he was ever ready for a new start, he’d definitely want something stable yet rewarding. For now, he needs a LOT of work - work he is not yet willing to put in, nor does he have a reason to. Angel doesnt want to commit because he’s extremely selfish as well as in an already abusive ‘relationship’ already. Sex work is sometimes VERY taxing on the mental health due to some of the folk you service. He’s seen the worst in many and just enjoys the pay and fuck. IF Husk was cheated on, then it’d make a lot of sense if a sex worker wouldn’t be his flavour, it would just serve as a reminder. Not only this, but Angel HIMSELF actively participates in cheating. Not with Val... but with *Travis*. BOTH know Travis is married (I’d be feckin worried if Trav didnt-) yet they still choose to cheat anyways, regardless of the pain it could cause. Angel even mocks this by sending greetings to Trav’s wife. Honestly this... Reminds me a LOT of Stolas - a main character who sexually harasses another character clearly not interested/comfortable, participates in cheating and we’re supposed to root for them (and before anyone gets offended, I do have more to say on Angel’s behalf so please be patient). Either way, it’s very toxic and concerning. Even if Husk wasn’t cheated on, I dont think many would feel exactly secure after having such a rough past with love, diving into a relationship with someone who’s openly participated in multiple affairs. And that’s no shitting on sex workers either, it’s just a point that some would feel uncomfortable with the idea of being with ANYONE (regardless of their work) having actively and KNOWINGLY took part in having an affair previously - especially multiple. Husk’s in an emotionally fragile place and needs more security. We’ve already established Husk heavily dislikes Angel’s advances. In fact, his responses to Angel are similar to his responses to... Al! His body language is VERY test and closed off to even Al, who’s most likely knew him for a very long time. If even Al gets this treatment (whilst also disrespecting his boundaries) then it’ll be the same with Angel (both force Husk into their lives and schemes, both disregard his boundaries). And he’s shown to STILL go out his way to help both however this is most likely tied to an unspoken ‘debt’ he owes Alastor. Plus he’s been mentioned behind the scenes to be a secret softie and protective grandpa type. But this animosity is very reflective of how Loona behaves and responds to Blitzo as well as how both Loona AND Husk (One being a ‘lowly servant’, the other being a literal old MAN) as pets - even the fans - just because of their forms. But this isnt the first of the disrespect they receive. Now we delve deeper Both are addicts of some kind (Husk - drinking, gambling. Angel - Drugs, possibly sex). Not a good mix at all romantically. Addicts often and unintentionally feed their addictions to each other as well as can increase likelihood of relapsing which even a recovered addict can slip back into. When times get tough (a natural occurrence) both are likely to suffer with their addictions. Interestingly, they can become addicted and dependent on one another, which is genuinely unhealthy for a mindset anyways, regardless whether addiction existed prior or not. Addiction only increases these chances. Angel likes confidence in a man (confirmed on Patreon). Yet, Husk is even confirmed in streams to be deeply troubled and insecure. One thing he hates is his demon form, something that we’ll touch on shortly. Angel loves quality food ESPECIALLY of Italian origin whilst Husk is willing to eat the shit they give you in bars (admittedly that was painful to type as someone who grew up around pubs - either way it’s not exactly high quality or gourmet is what I’m saying). Interestingly, in some character references of Angel, it’s stated that he hates rejection. Hates. That’s a VERY strong word. This could explain but not justify why he’s persistent with Husk (similar to NiceGuys believing you’re playing ‘hard to get’ - further illuding to an immature and toxic mindset) though it interestingly doesn’t apply with Alastor. Odd. There’s a counterpoint to symbolism in art. A very VALID counterarguement... If it suited Viv’s style. During Media Studies, Business, Design and Art, hell fucking Silent Hill! - I’ve been educated on effective symbolism as well as artistic trademarks (the most famous that most should know is Alfred Hitchcock!). Hitchcock often appeared in all his films, usually as a sidefacing silhouette, trading marking his films with his very PRESENCE. Viv’s seems to revolve around hearts. I mention this because an IG account made the point that hearts were to symbolise anyone connected with Angel’s story and love life (Valentino’s business and shades/collar, heart behind Angel’s head, Heart tattoo on Cherri’s right shoulder, hearts for Husk’s paws, eyebrow marks above natural brows, wings, and nose as well as most of the playing cards). Thing is, there’s hearts EVERYWHERE in all of Viv’s works and such symbology of Angel and hearts is weakened if it connects to the villains/abusers as well - taking away the positivity in a love symbol. Viv’s used hearts in her font, backgrounds, in characters ears, in all her series just generalised, Blitzo��s forehead, background characters, again the cards, Travis’s eyes, Millie’s right shoulder in the SAME place as Cherris. Even Vaggie had a heart tattoo on the shoulder in some christmas themed artwork (on her left). Heart’s is just something Viv seems to brand herself with. And that’s fine though I feel she could do with cutting it down slightly. One thing to early note on the cards (again, this’ll creep up later and my name should tell you why), most are heart suits and usually either a face card (J, Q, K), Joker, ace or 2s. Face cards/Jokers for more details close up (look at the signing artwork) and the rest are just easier to animate, though a little bit of a peeve to someone into their cards as well as the massive overuse of red in Hazbin overall. It’s extremely unlikely to be symbolic. If they change it to be so, then it’s... Weakened. As I’ve mentioned earlier, Silent Hill is an example of extremely clever symbolism in more darker media (more so, SH is considered a ‘hell’ of sorts and does feature religious iconography WITHOUT causing offence. A great example of how to portray this type of thing - they even mix humour in if you consider some of the sneaky references, dialogues and odd UFO/dog endings). Discussing Viv’s art further, she drew a gift for her sister (original creator of Husk when he possessed white fur) of Angel playfully dragging a disinterested and annoyed Husk (I believe this was still around the time SpiderMoth was canon). The newish art tends to have Angel putting a holly crown on him or sitting on his knees, Husk seeming too lazy to really do anything about it. Very nonchalant. I also want to include some interesting stream arts here and later to further highlight their bond. A fan asked Viv in a stream to draw them “actually getting along” - this wording implying that the fan is aware of Husk not enjoying Angel’s company. So Viv did, with an extra doodle of Husk being one of the ‘canadian people’ from South Park who sing “Im not your friend”. The art alone shows Husk’s absolute discomfort, even the extra thing Viv added w/o request. As they’re her characters and the fan asked for what they’d look like getting along, to show this discomfort goes to show the dynamic once planned. Husk just isnt a fan of Angel, especially when he’s being sexual and touchy. It can be great for small comedic parts, however both the team AND fans have now crossed this over to really creepy and triggering realms in their ships. It’s creepy and doesnt look good on Angel (who they actively root for) nor the gay community (more on that).

[Yes Ive already pointed out the comedic side of this ^ but it doesnt bode well considering the other points and issues that arise] There’s also a request for drag angel flirting with drunk husk. Personally thats a lil creepy to specify one of the two being intoxicated and thus not able to truly consent. If Angel is willing to flirt with someone in that state, it doesnt mean he would fuck them, but it does feel the fan was thinking that’s the case. In all truth, I think Angel WOULD flirt with those incapable of consent purely to swindle or pickpocket. I’d like to think [and HOPE considering his own abuse by Val] that he’d never take it further. And I hope Viv, the team and the fans see how incredibly creepy that thought is. I’ll give benefit of the doubt though it is still a concern. Either way, Angel appears... Annoyed? Husk is completely turned away and seems incredibly grouchy and confused. This shows yet more rejection on his behalf as well as Angel’s response to being rejected, which highlights his immaturity towards it. Remember, he’s USED TO and EXPECTS everyone to want him (even saying this in the Pilot). Hell, there’s even a Rich Vaggie request where Viv again randomly includes Husk. This time, he’s faced towards her and relaxed, though seems unimpressed and overall disinterested in this type of behaviour. Behaviour and interests of Angel [Celeb status and rich appearance due to Val, despite getting very little of the cut and the vanity, as well as Husk just not giving a shit about this sort of peacock display]. (Also wanted to note in Viv’s #3 stream 1:50:50, Faust makes out that Husk is a ‘dirty, creepy old man’ as well as him constantly threatening violence towards Angel. I dont see him as *creepy* in this context - as it implies perversion that he blatantly lacks fortunately - though it’s very telling of how Husk feels and again shows this toxic relationship).

/Angel’s Type: First off, daddy issues. He has them. Now let’s look at ‘daddy’. Henroin is shorter than Angel, dark fur, grumpy, old, wears only a hat and tie, big brows... Sounds familiar? Ok, look at his brother Arackniss. Similar to Henroin, dark, short, grouchy, bullied by and bullies Angel, is adverse to Angel and overall possess a bad relationship. Ok.... His main client, Travis! Short, dark fur, moody, Only wears hat and tie, drinker (shown in stream as request so take drinking with a pinch), similar face to- Is no one else seeing this trait? Angel seems to go for these shorter than him grouchier men who either want him for sex or hate his presence. Men who are like his dad and brother. All of these guys are far too similar, and we’ve got enough men in suits, bowties and sharp teeth in this show to boot as it is- The psychology of this type of attachment is rooted in a bad familial relationship alongside the subconscious desire to repair or compensate for it. Unknowningly the person will keep seeking out this sort of guy who isnt good for them to fix this internal issue. The resolution is to NOT go for these types. It’s also connected to intimacy fears, by going for those you know arent good for you/right for you/interested in you is often the manifestation of these issues. Pair them with daddy issues and it’s a disaster! There is science to back this up. Valentino is interestingly the opposite yet still toxic issues arise. Why? Because he’s going from one extreme to the other but with the same mindset. Neither of these men or types for MANY reasons are right for him. And visa versa. Seeing a pattern? ~~~~

Angel w Husk? I mentioned before that Husk hates his demon form. If you’re an old man, a gambler, some Vegas bloke and have this grouchier disposition, why the fuck would you want to look like an oversized pet? Exactly. Angel however adores his own aside from the feet. Now I find it strange how the guy we’re rooting for just so happens to like his own form which was intended for punishment. But that’s not todays post. I said earlier that Angel is heavily fixated on Husk’s appearance. Especially the feline aspects (calling him Husky and Kitty - petnames he hates that also treat him again more like a pet than a man -, dressing as a ‘sexy cat’ to appeal to him which can come off as more mockery. This is even backed up by fans who seem to think an old guy’s gonna act like some school girl anime trope?). All of this completely disregards and disrespects Husk’s feelings and perspectives. Something the fans and team take part in actively. Angel - whether you want to hear this or not - is SELFISH. When Husk ‘owed’ him for missing the show (babysitting Fat Nuggets), Husk begrudgingly fulfils this. The second Angel owed Husk for stealing drinks, Angel threw a hissy fit. The silent treatment, going to other bars and posting about it whilst complaining (again focusing on Husk being ‘cute’). Trying to cop out of it by buying Husk a smoothie (though it looked like a date, lets be real, do you REALLY have to bribe someone to date and be around you? No) and even then he still had to owe the money which was more of Husk’s concern. Yes he did in the end and more money than needed, hence the returning of the extra cash, but that is no excuse for the childish behaviour prior. He’s much too accustomed to being adored and pampered and getting his own way that he cant grasp when people arent a fan or willing to pamper him. If they make them a ship, all it does it make Angel completely into a shitty Gary-Stu that everyone loves and pities for his suffering, rather than teach him to grow, earn his redemption and confronting his own toxicity. Let me make this extremely clear: ANGEL DOES NOT DESERVE ABUSE OR RAPE. But when he starts behaving as shitty, he’s hard to root for. Remember, he’s sexually harassing all these guys, with Husk getting the brunt of it. But it’s treated as a joke for them and only taken seriously for Angel. Val abuses all of his employees. He abuses VOX and even THAT was mocked by fans and staff. It’s... It’s frankly gross. In every interaction Husk has with Angel, his body language is closed off, tense, uncomfortable, turned away and hostile - look at the IG. He wont even allow Angel to touch him. Compare this to Niffty, who he’s fine with taking pictures with and letting her hang around and touch him. Body language is relaxed (relaxed shoulders, open body language) and he doesnt look hostile at all. What does Angel do? Always tries to get close to Husk (such as sitting as close as possible during Poker) and forces both his OWN hobbies onto Husk (ones that Husk shows a strong disinterest in) and Husk’s hobbies (Poker). It’s very FORCED and not natural. Going back to immaturity, he blames Husk and his cards for being shit at the game. They’re always bickering, insulting, fighting in the comments but fans only see this as a ‘cute couple fight’ or Husk being ‘tsundere’.Tsundere. An anime trope often used in young characters. Irl tsundere is NOT this dramatised. The tsundere you see in anime, apply that irl and you get the recipe for the most toxic, petty and immature relationship going. You get constant fights, unease, not feeling loved/appreciated, little trust - the list goes on. Plus an old bloke really isnt going to indulge in tsundere traits. It’s childish. After his history with love, I doubt he’d be up for games and messing about. For something meaningful, he’d just want open honesty. Their ‘relationship’ feels like it’s written by horny kids attempting a fanfic after being inspired by 50 shades and twilight (both show toxic relationshiiiiiips~). The worst is that these are adult writers trying to portray some realistic yet sensitive topics. This is just ill fuckin taste. Even the warnings in Helluva’s ‘Horny Demons’ leaves a bad taste when the fans are thinking Stolas is the best dad despite both parents ruining Octavia’s mental health. Despite the next day after that episode aired Stolas starts flirting with Blitzo again on IG. Despite Blitzo being clearly uncomfortable and sexually harassed and even co-herced into sex (VERY UNHEALTHY MESSAGES HERE). Viv herself has been in bad relationships so how the fuck she’s blind to this and even borderline fetishizing this sort of behaviour that everyone seems to play off as ‘Awwww cute tsundere <3 BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS’ is abhorrent. I’ll go into this more later on how this really just... It treats male sexual harassment and assault as a fucking joke- Angel’s constant unwarranted flirting is no different from the freaks on IG that send dick pics to underage kids and random women in their dms and fathom that they’re ‘nice’ and have a ‘chance’. Wanna know the creepiest? The candid photo of Husk on Angel’s wall. Something Husk seems horrified about. It’s fangirlish and teenager like at BEST, and obsessive stalker at worst. He’s NOT respecting Husk’s boundaries or feelings. That’s still up despite Husk’s reaction. He still wore the costume despite Husk’s feelings. Angel’s thinking with his dick and it’s such a fucked up message that everyone seems to support just because ‘its FICTION. Theyre in HELL.Theyre BAD people.’ Yeah? Well look at how that’s effecting and warping reality and perspective. It’s glamourising it. Fetishsizing stalking and making it cute. Yer have celebrity or boyband or whatever youre a fan of pics on your wall. NOT your crush. NOT someone who clearly isnt interested or happy with this. If someone who kept commenting on your pictures “sexy” suddenly had a picture of you on their wall, what would YOU think? How would YOU FEEL? Because myself and my own sisters have been in VERY fucking similar situations and it’s traumatic. His paw is even attempting the lens - Angel is crossing his boundaries and not getting the message that Husk doesnt want this. He’s forcing himself onto Husk. Yknow... VAL forced himself on Angel and it ended up in numerous rapes. Angel hasnt raped Husk, but if he wont take no. If he wont respect boundaries. If he only wants Husk to do what he wants but throws a fit when he owes husk - he’s picking up on Val’s bad habits more and more. How are so few - even the very team creating this - not seeing how disgusting this is? Are we only supposed to give a shit if Angels hurt? If so, the message isnt so much of how despicable Val is but how awful it is to upset Angel. Fans constantly blame Husk for being grumpy, annoyed at or rejecting Angel. Look at this real world implication. Not only that but Angel being gay just reinforces one of the worlds most disgusting and inaccurate stereotype of gay men being sexual predators and forcing men to have sex whether theyre comfortable or not. MOST gay men arent like this, and those who are its just because THEYRE shitty people (Jeffree fucking Starr, but look how people ‘stan’ his fuckin behaviour). Val is rubbing off on Angel as much as fiction has a MASSIVE impact on reality - whether we’re willing to admit it or not. Like Val, hes pushing past boundaries, he’s selfish, hes more into visuals than anything else. It’s one sided, superficial and theres no click. No connection. Be in this situation yourself and seeing this sorta shit becomes second nature to stay alive. Angel even says that most of hells residents are ‘ugly freaks’ yet finds Husk cute. It’s all LOOKS. Who else likes appearances alone? Val. I know this will trigger and upset fans, Ive been told to fucking die and have my ED triggered when I mentioned it before. But accept that all of them have flaws. Everyone irl have flaws. But there’s flaws and then theres a fuckin crime. If Husk was a woman, more people would see the flaw, but even then... Look at many romance movies - not all but many go for opposites attract (science proves this inaccurate irl), stalking, or even sexual harassments and assualts but she falls for him and they end up together. That aint love thats Stockholm with extra steps. Think you’re triggered and upset? Go through this shit - have a history with it happening - and then see some show you love and a comfort character get treated the exact same and everyone JUSTIFIES it, including the team themselves. It’s NOT cute. Part 2 to the previous point: Both do share common interests, but it’s very unhealthy such as excessive drinking, both being addicts and being rather lazy, etc. Otherwise the common ground just isnt good. They’re opposites that really dont compliment each other. (Not a valid point here but I find it interesting how Angel loves aquariums and Husk can fly too). Viv’s writing is mediocre at best (but with glowing potential - a diamond in the rough - hence why it’s so frustrating) but Husk’s writing is the laziest. According to Viv he’s (paraphrased) “easiest to write... doesnt care about anything, almost always grumpy leading to similar reactions to everything”. His voice and alcoholism even has a lot of inspiration from Rick Sanchez. As I said with Angel in the RadioDust post, it’s almost like the addictions are seen as a joke. A running gag is fine if you can play it off well and it’s not about something so serious EVEN MORE SO when the series is about how damaging the addictions are and redemption. Why is this end goal being ignored unless it’s about Angel himself? That’s not just favouritism or bias, that’s also heavily self indulgent and a backwards ass message. Right now, Hazbin and Helluva have this ugly fixation on sex and ships. VIV has a fixation on ‘horny demons’. Her main characters are incredibly sexual bar Al (dont even say Husk, Niffty, Charlie or Vaggie or even loona and Moxxie are even on par with the focus and treatment Val, Angel, Blitz and Stolas are given). It’s very fixated and concerning. Its starting to feel like it’s about to divulge into hentai than a legit series with even a hint of the plot or a message. It reminds me of Family Guy trying to be BoJack. It’s starting to remind me of fucking Sausage Party and the final orgy. Sex and swears makes it inappropriate for kids but that doesnt make it adult or mature, and this is coming from someone who swears more than a fucking sailor whos stubbed his bare pinky toe on a fucking crate corner. Constant swears arent funny or artful in the slightest when it’s over done. It’s just... childish adult humour. We cant be expected to want to root for any of them at this rate- All A24 and other companies are seeing is big cash and easily manipulated child audiences (for easy money). They KNOW it can be better but theyd rather be lazy as they’ll profit big either way. This is going to end up like YanSim and YanDev. Amazing potential, shit writing with a leader too stubborn to accept and act on criticism, seeing it as hate. At this point, Husk isnt a deeply troubled man with vices and interests. He’s just fuck candy and romantic end goal for Angel. To compliment and complete him. Just another accessory to the Angel Show. Vivs sister who made Husk even loves Angel so it’ll only serve to further this already toxic narrative. The ship doesnt look or feel right. There’s too much established now to see the dynamics and favouritism in the creators. Self indulgence. You cant play favourites when you do this sort of thing professionally. The audience can see it and it turns people away. Ask any nonHaz/Helluva fan what they think and it’s... Well, average. Another thing is everyone went full hype on Frozen focusing on something other than romance as a form of love. But then go back to “Ok now everyone reenact the final scenes of Sausage Party” afterwards. Not everything is sex and romance, and it really is starting to feel Viv and the fans are focused on that like Incels focusing on ‘chad’. It’s creepy. Helping with food, telling someone self conscious on their weight that they’re not fat, not taking more money than someone owes, even helping out with a pet - that’s something that a good friend would do. In fact, Husk even laughs at the goofy Angel cutout and it being destroyed. It doesnt instantly equate to wanting to fuck. The fact that the fans and even some of the team seem borderline horny is... Completely destroying this show, it’s message and everything about it. Viv said ships were hardly the focus in her stream but look at it now. Look at what Viv focuses on now. It’s just fanservice shit. Nothing more. Self indulgence shit, look at the team making rape into a fetish or shipping themselves publicly with the characters on the public IGs. It’s like watching children run a business and it’s painful because the entire series is suffering when it could be amazing. Friendship should be more normalised as a valuable type of relationship just as much as love or family are. I’ll also add that Husk adding after the show “Oh fuck... Is this what I missed? Shit.” is ooc like the ‘date’ (that was compensation for stolen drinks, like a tamer version of Blitzo fucking Stolas for the grimoire). It contradicts that he slept it off rather than an attempt at staying awake, as well as calling it a “god damn peepshow” implying a repulsion to the peverse tendencies. The constantly commenting, following and posting Angel related pics makes little sense either from someone who’s blatantly been sexually harassed as well as the clear repulsion of the candid pic on the wall. He outright rejected Angel. What would be realistic are the IGs focusing on learning about the characters, their lives and interests - ALL updating at realistic paces. Old men arent tech savvy usually nor care for social media that much. He’d post drinks, gambling, casinos, life with Niffty and Alastor. Heck maybe a picture of Angel captioned “When will this guy leave me the FUCK alone?”. He even only seems to tag angel, even in the pic that had Charlie and Vaggie [their shared account] or Niffty. Theres a CLEAR bias in the staff room and it’s messy. Look how most the female cast is ignored (Vaggie/Charlie, Velvet who posted a birthday gift to one of the new artists on the merch WHY? Gasu btw, Niffty, Millie only posting twice - heck even Vox and Loona sometimes get neglected. CLEAR. BIAS.) The ships focused on are 1) NOT established canon yet publicly favoured by Viv and the team (Stoliz, HuskerDust, VoxVal - that last pair havent actually got a VA either-), 2) Are TOXIC and theme around abuse or sexual harassment but it’s ‘cute because gae’ - NO. This makes gay people look really bad when they’re not. 3) HD and SL focus on one sided, stalkerish, cop out ‘tsundere’ excused ships to sugar coat the creepiness which only further fuels bigotry, 4) SL has MERCH on it now, so thats also profiting on sexual harassment imagery (again, dont give a shit they arent real - the EFFECTS are. The people who can relate ARE. The people being horridly stereotyped ARE). Thing is, the IGs originally were there to promote ADDICT which started as a fan song anyways despite everyone saying how Viv is stubborn in her ways an uninfluenced by her fans (proof says otherwise) yet shes allowed a fan song to be canon. Theres a focus on forced love for fanservice. The IGs have long outstayed their welcome. The Val account allows glamourisation of the sick shit Val does AND entinses fans to bully as they forget a REAL PERSON runs the fucking account, Val isnt even a scary villain either - hes just a big teen like everyone else - stuck in a teen drama with all this. Pimps are smart. Theyre scary. Theyre masters of manipulati- HOW DO THEY NOT DO THE RESEARCH?! Viv wanted this sense of realism and dealing with sensitive topics in one of the worst executed ways Ive ever seen- It’s toxic. It’s dangerous. These are shit messages and your fans display that when they think all criticism is ‘hAtE’ and actively bully real people w REAL EXPERIENCES. Telling them to ‘stop pls’ does fuck all because you still promote shit messages straight after. Like with Stolas to Blitz in a IG story a day after Ep 2. Classy. Fanservice seems desperate to keep these fans (rather than market correctly... Just like YanDev) and it leads to fans feeling like they have the audacity to steer the series. Poor business with WEAK boundaries. Viv, you lost your series a long time ago. Want it back? LISTEN TO LEGIT CRITICISM. Stop surrounding yourself with yes men. Even my best fucking friend calls me out when Im out of line because a real friend will fucking take the chance of hurting your feelings if it means helping you in the long run and grow. Mick joked about the inside of Husk’s ears matching Angels coat, that the ears are cat’s most sensitive and vulnerable parts. 1) Cats vulnerable part is their tummy - hence why you need their trust first (alternatively yer get the odd cat that has full confidence they cat hurt you a lot faster than you can tickle them - I own one), 2) Its weird that Viv doesnt know this considering how many cats she has - its important to learn the language of those you love to give them your full understanding and a great bond 3) This romanticises sexual harassment more than it already is in the media (remember, theres women out there still murdered for saying no!) as well as reinforces the stereotypes of gay men forcing non-interested men into sex (again, a very toxic and unrealistic trope - a dangerous one thats led to gays being murdered!). And the ears design is unnecessarily overly complex considering those fuckin wings he supports. If the design adds nothing to the character but aesthetic, then it can go on the chopping block. Rules for simple animation. Besides from Angel sharing the same tooth as Val (who knows if that was added after he started working for Val as branding?) you could use this argument to say Pent or Al are soulmates for Angel because of having striped suits, or sharp teeth - no, it was intended as a joke that Viv fueled to irresponsibly because it’s not the first time she’s dodged publicly addressing something (something youll NEED to get used to in a big company), and she’s publicly dodged shit after this too so Im not putting faith in her until she can act professionally as the job requires. Likewise, professionals should consider what and how they joke as they’re presenting an image of a company/business. And people WILL eat that shit up face value regardless. In her stream #2, a fan requests for art of flustered angel and smug husk to fuel their ship. at 2:10:21, she does so. She’s also done this for Baxter x Niffty and Cherri x Tom. As a professional, you really should be avoiding this sort of thing in the name of fanservice. I get it, fanservice = financial gain. But it also results in empty meaning. It’s a shell of what the passion project once was, hence why you make the ENTIRE skeleton before involving others. The team help construct the muscles, tendons and organs. The public - moreso critics and the more experienced in those fields help sew the skin. Then you bring it to life, the fans become like blood. They aid to keep it alive. Even Ash and Mick mention Husk being ‘tsundere’. Im had most my piece about it earlier, however I’ll repeat and add some extras. Tsundere is an exaggerated personality, often used in younger characters. In terms of a relationship, it’s very immature, leads to poor communication and results in a toxic love. Science can back this up as well as the lack of realism. It’s more immature minds/hearts that go to what they interpret as tsundere in hopes of the love life the media portrays. A farce. Y’know what Angel needs? Someone open, honest, open to love and comforting. He doesnt need someone rebuffing and him chasing. It’s nothing more than an immature thrill. Once the love begins, it’s burns out QUICK. It’s far from sustainable or healthy. It’s not what either really need and further show Angel’s fixation on men who subconsciously remind him of his father. It’s not healthy. Another thing is a tsundere actually IS interested but shows it in the most immature and childish means possible. Would a really old bloke actually give a shit to play those sorts of games? No. Not one coming from a place like husk has. It’s painful how lacking in research and experience these people are. Science backs up that opposites solemnly attract also. In fact, they often either repel or only get as far as friendship. Fan and Team Mentality in Brief: Im coming out with my ultimate pet peeve: if you’re going to have one of the MAIN characters be a gambler, do your research. The only background shit is a casino, LOADS of sex references (in Pride? Really?) and drugs. It’s like someone listing what they think is adult and tabboo and naughty. It’s yikes. Cards are almost always aces, 2s or blank. MOST are heart suits (like we need MORE red - we get it, it’s hell. But it’s an immature larvae stage hell). I get 2s and aces being easier to animate, however you have Husks wings, the entire of alastor, angels arms - if youre busting the budget for the menial then bust it to the cards. Theres like ONE spade. The full house isnt a full house (here’s a display of the fans lack of education on the matter as well which serves as a sure sign that they know just as little on any of this as SpindleHorse, they think it’s a sign on him being a card cheat. A card cheat. I aint saying hes not but what I AM saying is poker professionals are some of the most observant people in the world. Especially when money’s involved they’ll ensure youve got your facts right. That wouldnt fly at ALL. But theres more~ fans think Husk spent loaaaads of time staring at angel’s face in the IG poker out of <3 Newsflash. When you play poker you read EVERYONE like a book. Every little twist and twitch of the features. Its not about love. It’s about winning. Its about money. Play enough poker and it’s instinct if you want to actually play decently. Call bluffs. Life aint a fuckin romance.) And playing Poker at a BlackJack table? In a casino? These are all common knowledge and basics if you just research. And this is coming from someone with a history of this. The fans even believed Tipsy Bartender’s ‘Peach Princess Cocktail’ was something Spindlehorse made as a beverage form of Niffty, Angel and even Charlie because of the name. Now, Im not expecting everyone to be a fuckin boozy either, but to not even consider it’s a very real drink does show that many fans are far too young for that 18+ label. Fanart of HD often has Husk being OOC OR being held hostage (often via webs - one even being reblogged by Viv, aint that cute!). Some even have Husk completely intoxicated, which would be rape. Im not sugarcoating it. Because too many are getting the sweet treatment and copying Viv’s ‘dont address and it disappears!’ tactic - A LOT of internet celebs do it. The ship is drawn a lot by the team in the public eye, Viv reblogs it publicly (SL, HD, alongside canon only ships, how curious-). Husk is pan yet doesnt behave as the stereotype. And Id FULLY support this with my fucking SOUL (fun fact: you cant sell a soul. Thats myth to scare people-) if it was done correctly. But the way bisexuals, lesbians, gays and aces are portrayed so stereotypically (even Pan in terms of Val’s sexomania), it’s really REALLY uncomfortly coming across as Husk being pansexual JUST to make him an ‘option’ for Angel. Hell even the hets are given a shite representation. Some art btw has husk tricked into a kiss. Cute, we’re really starting to like blurring consent aint we? Remember, Angel has celeb power in his world. In the real world, he has a following. HE has the power in the ship massively. Hell, fans JUSTIFY Angels behaviour and absolutely rip Husk a new shithole if he fuckin even so as to DARE OPPOSE ANGELS MUCH DESERVED LOVE! - sarcasm because I have to make that shit clear now. Fans dont care about Husks feelings, he wasnt even popular until this ship started to explode. Y’know what would be cool and break stereotypes? An old straight white guy actually accepting his friends sexualities. The pan thing feels really fucking gimicky and exploitive and gross based on the history of all this shit. It feels disingenuine. Representation doesnt come from it just being there. What next? Katie whips on blackface to further show shes a bigoted knobhead whos white and straight? Dont get me wrong, Katie’s an arsehole but theres other means to show this rather than ALL HETS HATE THE BIG GAE. They dont. They really dont. But hey, we’ll show a gay man sexually harass every guy and root for him! NO. Thats fucked up. It makes gays look like the predators theyre not. It’s like the fucking 50s with modern tech - is that the real identity of Vox? Fuckin maybe. WHAT THEY NEED - FUCKING FINALLY, ITS THE END IVE BEEN ON THIS SHIT FOR DAYS WHILST SICK LUCKY ME EH? CAN YER FEEEEEEEL MY TIREDNESS OF FANDOMS AND CREATORS EXCUSING SHITTY THINGS FOR CLOUT, MONEY, FAME AND OTHER DUMB SHIT? IF YOU CANT, THEN WHAT THE FUCK, AND OTHER NEWS: Right. Lets get our main shit. Compatibility between the pair is really low - lower than even the team seems to see. And yer old fart of a Hag here’s gotta use my personal suffering as an example because thats what the cool kids do, right? Their friendship compatibility is high. VERY high. But low for love. HEALTHY love. In terms of convo flow, it only has a river when insults are flying, otherwise Husk actively cuts Angel short or outright annoys him. In reality, someone like Husk would gross out Angel, but the cute cat look can turn that the fuck around - JUST the look. Fans and the team oddly think it’s cute though. Yes, I remember being negged at the bar and thinking “BOY arent my pants flooded like the fuckin planet when the ice caps are melting”. There’s no click. Theres infatuation and lust one sided based on looks. Husk isnt even remotely interested and no means delayed yes apparently. Angel as a rape VICTIM should know better than to blur consent like this. Angel isnt a rapist [for the skim reading raging stans ANGELS NOT A RAPIST, YAAAAAY!] but he sure has a shit grip on when he’s looking like Val when Val forced Angel into a kiss by not accepting rejection. It’s. CREEPY. Its fuckin weird. Husk is literally named after being a shell of his former self, I doubt random sex and forced interest is gonna make him spring to life like bastard Zeberdy from the Magic Pissin Roundabout. Honestly, sexual harassment and addictions are treated the same in this - a joke. A punchline. A gag. Sure makes me fuckin gag. Nah, the more healthier Chaggie relationship (needs work on Charlies damn part - dont let freaky taxidermy men sexually assault your life partner like that) is booooring, lets focus on sexual harassment leading to true love like all the other shitty romcoms shall we? Or sugar coat it with ‘getting to know them better <3′ like Beauty and the Beast. A story, by yours truly: My mom’s mates with this woman. Lets call her M because her name starts with an M. M is just like Angel except slightly older, overweight and disabled - so not everyones cup of tea visually (shes neither here nor there to me imo, not like I hold interest in shaggin her). Like Angel, she fuckin flirts with any ANY man around her. She’ll even touch without consent, rub allllll up and down their backs and bodies, and not leave them alone. She even did this with a few gay men. Shes not a horrible person BUT mom and I are constantly trying to stop her and get through her head how DISGUSTING this treatment is. But nothing gets the message across. Shes ALWAYS talking men and sex and has an on/off fling with this one bloke (dont worry, hes the male M, cheats and does the same as her). Everyone, even women, are uncomfortable with this. Irl it’s desperate and a HUGE repellent. Men are visibly SO uncomfortable. She does it to my father too who is - in case youd forgotten - MARRIED TO HER BEST. FUCKING. FRIEND. My father is not a man of fear (and interestingly, hes one of the real life Huskers I know!) but this woman? *insert Heavy bc why tf not* She scares him. My dad does everything in his damn power to pull away, reject, resist, avoid and cut her off. The only reason hes even nice to her at all is because mom likes her (when M isnt a gross hornbag, shes genuinely a good friend to my mother - much like angel and Cherri). My dad’s strictly banned from insulting her or telling her to fuck off from my mother BECAUSE of her nature with him. Even at her non horny times, he’s even said shes not his flavour. I’ve had numerous accounts like this myself (ask any woman-) but the worst was the guy thinking - THINKING - that Id eventually be his whilst he played up a lot of our similarities up, seemed nice and I actually thought I had a good guy friend (put it this way, Im genuinely scared of men because of guys like this). At this time, there was a character I discovered who looks and behaves SO much like me, and shes married. My simping arse for this fictional BEAUT [Im sorry but Iris is fucking awesome] compared her romantic traits towards Olgerd as something Id do - and this was a STATUS. It wasnt even too him, tagging him, nothing. I was just spamming Iris like the Iris whore I am, and... Yep. Ill be honest and say that God only knows what else I did that made him think I was ready to rip off my clothes and shag him. My post history back then showed Im like this when I find a character I relate to. I also send hearts a lot publicly and to friends to express joy - I get NERVOUS how that’ll be taken now. He tried to pit my ex friend and I against each other for him and even cyberstalked us pretending to be a girl named Raven. My GUT told me this aint no bastard ‘Raven’. The vibes he gave me, and the fact when I kept saying no he took it as a delayed yes (He even said “Ill wait for when youre ready” not “I understand and am happy to still be friends”) gave me literal nightmares of this guy tracking me down and raping me. He’s currently dating that ex friend (I was still willing to be their friend and support them but they said it was hard to keep us separate in her lifes and she didnt want conflict, so I cut it off amicably with her and I fuckin hope he treats her right. I even sensed in my gut she’d like him and he’d like her - even that theyd be good together! But then I found she was 17 and he was 10 years older, that he was cyberstalking and pitting us against each other, that he was secretly an arrogant fuck and that he gives off red flags like her ex’s - but shes passed 18 now and I want to trust her as an adult that she can deal with this. Shes got a good family.) As a kid, Ive been fuckin groped at school in my shitty neighbourhood. One kid even harassed me wanting to know if Id started my periods yet. Hed constantly fondle girls and ‘keg’ them aka yank down their skirts or trousers in public, and 2 years later held a fucking KNIFE to my throat in a classroom with the shittiest substitute teacher, all because I stood up to him (I was not known for my bravery at school so). He was harassing my female friend who suffers from it since as well as her upbringing, bullying her and stealing her stuff. Shes TINY. She was bullied just as bad as I - who was somehow both the school ghost AND pariah somehow- - and I stepped in and told him to cut that shit out before snatching her things back. I told her to ignore the desperate prick. Thats when he took a boxcutter and held it to my throat, threatening me to keep my head down. Now my neighbourhood fucking qualifies as the British ‘hood’ but Id been lucky to avoid this. Ironically, I wondered what this situation would be like a year prior. Im convinced I can fucking foresee bad shit now and with anxiety that aint good. I froze mentally and I just said “Wooow, Im fucking scared- *friends name*, ignore him” and continued my work. I fucking mentally kicked myself for speaking but I genuinely didnt know what to do. Obviously not fucking that. He sat the full TWO HOURS at our table with this knife, jolting forward mockingly and switching who he pointed it at. The knife btw was from that very room as it was graphics and art. Teacher didnt even notice though honestly Ive had an entire class throw shit at me and call me a whore and the teacher in that class looked at me and TURNED AWAY. End of the day, I reported it to my actual graphics teacher when he returned and he told me he’d take this higher up and to get my parents. My home was only 5 minutes away but I had to walk alone when most the students were gone AND through a fucking alleyway. I always walked with my head low but that day I kept it high and tried to look brave because I genuinely thought he was waiting for me. That he was going to rape and kill me because he’s a pervert and Id just discovered a fucking violent one at that. I broke down at my door. Do you know how fuckin hard it is to look your parents who are dealing with two cancer patients and other issues in the eyes and tell them their ‘little girl’ had a knife to her through for standing up for herself? We went back, I described everything and even remember the yellow-orange handle just to get this kid punished? I even wrote an official police statement (well, the written witness account they add to their statement and evidence) and had to speak on mine and my friend’s behalf because she was that shook up. I never even used to speak for myself! He got expelled, but yknow what us jolly folk dealt with? Hearing kids and his mates mumbling about the ‘rat’ and how much of a cunt they were. Teachers and kids praise him for his art skills and even pin them on display EVERYWHERE (one - ONE - was a fucking self portrait and none of the staff seemed to find issue in that) and even an occassion where he came back into the school when he legally wasnt (trespassing). Do you know how hard it is to fucking avoid someone without raising suspicions from everyone around you in a narrow corridor? Im TALL too. I got NO support from this and felt on edge because he could easily sneak into school. I couldnt say shit because his stupid ‘spies’ were about. Just typing this is upsetting enough- I also know a rl Angel who’s like him minus the sexual harassment. She’s... I never used to like her and visa versa but we actually get along really well now, even though she can be creepy and perverse- But she wouldnt be my type either nor I with her. Often we really fuck each other off but we can also bond great. Another incident reminds me of Husk’s candid photo. Ive had people keep my photo despite me saying not to however I had someone SOMEHOW at that school one the fuck up that. There was a cut out from a magazine of a lady who looked like my DOUBLE except she was asian. Now I thought this was cool and it made me feel sorta pretty. This one girl showed everyone and the teacher, pretty much everyone was like “Oh shit that really is you, C!” and it was harmless fun at first. Until I wanted the picture. Again, this woman looked EXACTLY like me. Yet this girl refused and said she wanted to keep it and even carried it around in her pencil case. Yes it wasnt me but due to the similarities, this photo was called me (tbf the fuckin pic got more respect than I did-). This isnt the only creepy instant between me and this girl but the photo reminds me of it. And this tops people keeping photos OF me which happened in primary school. This was me but legal at that time. And asain. It was super fucking neckbeardy the way she treated this photo and stared, often stroking it and looking at me. I just hope she was only trying to scare me. Theres one final instance of a sexual assault but Im just not yet ready to be public about it. 2 here already know. Those are some of my rl experiences and more to come (unfortunately) that show these behaviours in real life. It seems - it comes across - that sexual harassment, MORE SO TOWARDS MEN, is seen as some punchline and not something legitimately horrifying or dangerous. It’s not cute. It’s fucking FAR from it. Ive already mentioned how putting two addicts together can lead to relapsing, dependence on each other in an unhealthy way. And Ive even mentioned what Angel needs in a relationship in the RD post. Luckily for you, I’ll copy and paste it here: “ We need to think about where both are mentally. What benefits would a relationship give both? How would they be good and bad for each other? For Al, aside from his outdated views and being a fucking murderer and narcissist, he actually seems in a good mindspace for a relationship IF he opted to be in one. Angel however has a very immature mindset, likewise is in a phase of life where hes bed hopping. IF he were to be in a relationship, I’d say he needs a male equivalent of Cherri - someone with a similar mindset yet some differences, willing to have fun and in touch with their younger side, down to cuddle, open to share and receive love as well as not afraid to publicly be affectionate with him, someone who sees him as more than just for sex, someone fun, someone who’ll let him embrace his cutesy side publicly without shame - Cherri is younger so maybe someone who’s his age or slightly younger perhaps? I think Angel’s not retirement home ready to settle and needs someone on his level that can cuddle and chill as well as feels free and youthful enough to go wild with him. In one sense, he’s got a teen girl sorta mindset (dont put him with a teen though, it’s fuckin weird-). He needs someone positive and raw, someone to let him be himself as well as someone comfortable to be themselves around him. He has a habit of latching onto unobtainable men (in psychology, this is self sabotaging subconsciously): Travis the client, Val a pimp, Husk (emotionally unavailable and needs HEAVY self work - interestingly far more than Angel - plus he’s still onto his last relationship and an addict to gambling and alcohol), Pent who’s the enemy he was currently fighting (inappropriate timing), Alastor who’s not interested in another but his own needs [selfish, VERY bad for a relationship]. Subconsciously he’s self sabotaging on purpose. There’s many psychology books as well as sources online for this, if you’re interested. Either way, Angel is drawn to men either like his father [who dislike him, shun him, or are otherwise cold, abusive or just blatantly dislike or otherwise dont care about him] or anyone with money to fuel his drug addiction/’debt’ to Val. Going with any of these men isn’t a good idea. Preferably, Angel needs someone who he doesnt immediately crush and obsess over. Someone who he doesnt sexually harass or assault. Someone he can build a connection with quickly that can bud into romance (think how Chaggie started as a friendship which clicked immediately). Maybe even someone he doesn’t expect to fall for but does so anyways. It would be more realistic as Viv wants as well as more healthy. That for once he isnt sex or money craved instantly, thus doesnt sexually harass/assault and is given a proper chance to develop and grow a friendship and love. Someone who isnt an addict. Someone with an on-par mindset where they click. Someone open to love. For any chance of a good relationship, Angel needs to be with anyone BUT who we’ve already seen. There’s too much toxicity that’ll be swept under the rug and justified otherwise. Too much shit to fuel homophobes in terms of gay stereotypes. Even though Ive focused a fair bit on Angel, it’s NOT just about Angel. That’s something fans forget. Some he depends on or someone who depends on him in the long term wont last and will be very dangerous to both. Just because you suffer, you dont then deserve to be rewarded with ‘something nice’. You dont get to have everything youve ever wanted. Giving him any of these blokes [minus Val] gives him a pass. Gives him what he wants. I get Viv loves him but life doesnt work that way. True lasting growth comes from learning that. Acceptance and growth. You dont get everything you want and sometimes thats a GOOD thing. He’s not a spoilt kid who gets everything he asks for, he’s YOUR creation. If you really wanted what your creations deserve then you need to research and be realistic with it. Because hes starting to feel like a shitty Gary-Stu at this rate.” Sorry for that copypaste clusterfuck. Copy paste is not my forte lol Now Husk. Remember Big? Probably not after the info overload, but if you do GREAT. Big needed love, patience, understanding, someone who could help him, someone who understood and respected his boundaries. I spent so much damn time and now he cuddles up and exposes his tummy because I make him feel understood, loved and safe. He NEVER purred or meowed (why would he need to meow when he didnt speak to humans?) but now he does. He lives on the streets of a neighbourhood with rough folk. He used to draw blood and go rabid on my arms. But I was patient and showed him that I understood his reasons but that he was safe with me and had no need to strike out. I never pushed his boundaries let alone doing it multiple times (the rl angel I know is fucking skilled at pushing cat’s boundaries and wonders why they all huddle up to me and avoid her lol). Husk is an unavailable man. Romantic/Sexual love does NOT heal his wounds. But thats the only thought fans and the team have given on his side. He needs love to ‘fix’ him. The WORST reason to get with someone. Theyre not a project and you arent a fucking miracle worker. Treat them as an equal. He needs a good friend. JUST a friend. Like Big, he needs patience, trust, understanding, and extensive help (arguably more intense than Angel’s). He needs to love himself a bit more FIRST. Someone who respects his boundaries INSTANTLY. Someone relatable and similar, open to love not just sex and not as troubled (if they are, they need to handle it way better, healthily and overall be in a good mindspace). Viv can ship whatever the fuck tickles her fancy, but once your passion project becomes public and funded, you have set responsibilities on how to address and handle sensitive issues as well as having to accept criticism. If Husk goes sober in the name of love (ESPECIALLY with the guy not respecting his boundaries and sexually harassing him), then it’s a fucking INSULT to alcoholics. I know a few rl Husks but there’s one that anyone who knows me enough knows the man I hold closest to my heart was an alcoholic and spitting of Husk. That’s why Husk’s character means so much to me. But there’s only 2 here who know a bit more of this man. This is something Id hoped to not share so soon, nor as messy. And Im already getting waterworks because this is FAR from easy. I guess Husk became the very thing *I* needed in order to face this. This man was my grandfather. WAS. I cant even fucking accept that. I was a fucking child. I feel stupid being so open about this over some stupid cartoon but it just shows the real life effects this has on REAL fucking people. This man was old and lonely. Always at the pubs. He taught me card games, card tricks and card magic as well as one of his own sons dealing with a gambling addiction. I feel so fucking stupid crying about this- I dont want to open up but its the only way I feel I can get people to understand my side in all of this. This man was a fucking MESS. A closed off, lonely, grumpy old bastard. He lost his love because of his alcohol addiction and never found love again. Never got over that woman. (Shes still kicking and we’re close - im keeping some things under wraps between them as its not my place). Gave up on life and love. Worked hard at his fixation on cards and puzzles, as well as crass jokes and knowledge. But he was very lazy otherwise. Bitter and angry. And you know what? He was my world. I love this man with every fiber of my being because he was the first person to love and accept me for me. He treated me as an equal and helped me grow as a person. In fact... He was only ever happy around us kids. He had hope again. Protected me. He used to hate gays and blacks and you know what? He taught HIMSELF as to why that was shitty thinking. He taught ME about differences in people and to accept it. He taught me that you dont always have to understand to accept. He taught me poker and... swears admittedly. He was a beautiful soul that was broken inside. He needed to love himself. But you know what actually fucking happened? You know what I watched as a kid? I watched as he smoked until every morning he woke throwing up phlegm just to BREATHE. I watched as sometimes the light in his eyes died and through smoke breaks and early drinking how he’d sometimes slip and show me his pain. And we’d have deep talks about it and the world and everything. How alcohol ruined his life yet he craved it. His scent. I remember arguments I wasnt supposed to overhear and growing up seeing him fucking DIE slowly in a hospital bed. The man he was ended up as a fucking husk. His skin was bloated and purple, he was half machine on how much shit he was hooked up to. How he was barely a man at all. He was dying of cancer and he fucking knew and never told us. His cancer meds gave him horrid hallucinations. And I practically spent most of my time in that hospital because TWO people had cancer. Two stunning people had fucking stupid bastard cancer. He was a fuck up. He was flawed to shit. But seeing glimpses of the real him was a fucking ethereal experience. He made me feel like a PERSON. And all we could do in the end was watch him just die. He WANTED to die and you could see it but hed only eat around us to fake fight out of his own hubris and not wanting to let us down. That year, I watched 2 of the only people who ever gave a shit about me die the most dishonourable deaths God could have gave them. Years prior I watched his son gamble EVERYTHING away - his lover, his house, his everything. Hes a moderate gambler now with a partner who never had a history of any addiction. She helps keep him in line as he helps her. But most nights I fucking dream of this shit. I cant even think about my hero because I fucking weep. I still have nightmares. Im still up thinking how I could have saved him from himself when it’s him who was the only one able to. I have to live my life with those memories and I was just a kid. Im a full woman and Im still haunted by it. Even that year is blasphemy and I fucking hate it. I want to take him in my arms, hold him and tell him he’s enough. That its ok and he can get through this. Anything that reminds me of him, I love because I know the other side. The real side. The side not tethered to vices. When I see people like that, I pray they see themselves like that too and I want to help them see it. Tell them that they can live again. It’s better than fucking decaying in a hospital bed. That when people make this sorta shit into a cute quirk it’s not. And it’s dickheads like me who have actually seen it play in the real world to REAL people they love. They arent a fucking accessory to fix for your own narrative. They arent a fuckin performing monkey. At least with Rick and Morty it’s kinda humorous and never played for some shitty toxic ship to appeal to everyone who’s never had to face that shit themselves. And Im like my old man but with more hope and no addiction. I drink and I gamble but I’ll never let myself get that low. Because I honour him but Im not as fucking saft. I wont allow it even though it’s a fucking battle. Those addictions are in the blood. My family history. Its always been so fucking normal. I’ll never knock someone for an addiction or try to preach them out of it because theres often pain fueling it, but I’d never encourage it or toxic faux cures and stupid romance promises as some bullshit MLM remedy either. I KNOW it’s fiction but I want people to see the real side. I want VIV to see the real side. Id willingly for FREE fucking sing that shit if it meant spreading a good message. Because this is fucking hell. FIXING IT: The ship’s basis is too set in stone now - too familiar to change. Best is to never let it be canon. Because you know what else it teaches? That rOmAnCe cures all. Not therapy. Not rehab. Not any REAL work. Just fuck and date it all away as if it’s that easy. It’s a mockery! I tried to be professional about this but when the media bombards this shit constantly, the has the AUDACITY to play like it’s giving a good message is salt to the wounds. A kiss with a fist. An old man dont care for the petty teen drama that Angel and Cherri (even fuckin Al) thrive on. Want this to send a good message still? Angel hates rejection and thinks everyone wants him. Have Husk reject him. Especially because no one should go out with someone whos sexually harassed them there. Been there, done that got the fuckin tshirt. Have Husk reject Angel the way Gravity Falls has Wendy reject Dipper. It helped Dipper move on and mature, and this is what Angel needs for growth and to be more humble. Husk would be a fucking excellent mentor to Angel, a friend and protector, someone who shows him the ropes like Grunkle Stan like a grandfather figure. To not fall for his mistakes. Husk would be a better expert than any of them plus it balances the power dynamtic. It’s healthy and realistic. Touches the topic with the sensitivity it needs. Not everything needs a ship or romance. Wounds healed that way dont stay healed long. Angel seems more fitting as a son like figure, and he can play that dad like role for him. And if any of the team EVER saw this, fucking take this idea. Its YOURS. FREE. FOREVER. If we wanna play this NDA but still reblog some of the story telling arts and have some of our team indulge in it. I wont sue. Fucking TAKE IT if it means doing this shit right because Spindlehorse have beautifully triggered so many different people and their different traumas to please teenagers sexual fantasies, their own kinks and for a jolly good joke. This is a bastard long read and Ive had to face the traumas again but if good can come from it then I’ll GLADLY dance this duet again. Stans, Antis, dont even TEMPT interaction. You arent brave sending suicide threats behind a screen, youre a coward and a waste of oxygen. I WANT Hazbin and Helluva to succeed. I want Viv and her crew to do well. Trust me, I wouldnt waste my time if I didnt give a shit. Viv is fucking gifted and its being wasted if it’s not at her full potential for the approval of a rabid army of kids and immature adults who dont know any better (stans and antis). I know she would like a good and decent fanbase. Stans and antis arent it. Tagging you folks because it’s long but yall actually helped me have the courage to open my trap to this. Screenshots are coming later though all of what Ive said is easily sourced. But this has been days, Im sick, im tired, ive been upset facing my own traumas. If any tags wanna help then by all means but otherwise. @honesthazbinarchives, @siaesnow (also added age still bc despite the lack of physical aging, theres also the mental aspect and experiences as well as power dynamics side to it, in case youre wondering), @noirellearts, @enchantedchocolatebars, @galemalio (thank you for letting me weep like a bitch), @angel-blitz, @critical-hazbin, @what-the-hazbin, @hazboobhotel, @pineapple-critiques-stuff, @devils-advocutie, SORRY AGAIN FOR BEING A LIL BITCH FOLKS, I feel awkward like my teen years but yeah- fuck it Im old and imma rot soon anyways. If this experience can help then Ill be glad.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #anti huskerdust sorry folks #vivienne medrano #criticism #toxic relationships in fiction #how fiction impacts the real world #yeah im a wimp who cares?#hazbin needs to change for the better #concerned fan #dont be another yandev #dont be another yansim #stans and antis dni #stans and antis will be blocked and reported #hope this gives justice to my hero about the rl effects of addiction #rest easy Kiddas got this #still shitting myself #read more wont work sorry

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