#Please understand I’m poor! I’m very poor! I’ve been poor all my life and I devoured books at an unhealthy rate

[tracle0]

So uh if you pirate books please just… don’t follow me ?

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[rainylana]

“My angel baby, I’m here.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds out that you self harm.

warnings: reader self harms and is severely depressed, undertones of poor eating habits but very brief, language, lots of tears, blood, angst to the max, mentions of periods.

a/n: this is the longest that i’ve posted yet since getting back into writing and i’m super happy with how it turned out! it is a sensitive topic so it won’t be for everyone. this is dedicated to all the ones who can relate to this fic. i hope you all have an eddie in times when it gets too much. please let me know what you think. it means the world and more than you can imagine.

You knew that what you did was not healthy. You knew it was sick and messed up. You knew that if anyone found out, they’d think that you were insane. The scars you gave yourself had no real reason to be there. You blamed yourself for that. You didn’t know how to deal with your issues any other way. The moment you were alone you’d drift off to the bathroom, turn the shower on and begin your twisted ritual of self abrasions.

Life for you was difficult, but still, marking your self up was no excuse. You had tried to quiet, of course. Many times you had, but it was a habit you could not break. You were too used to doing it. It was an everyday thing. It was like breathing. You breath to live. You can’t not just breath. So for you, cutting yourself was like breathing. You didn’t think you could stop. It helped you deal with your pain.

If you’d have known what the evening was going to hold for you, you would have slit your throat the moment you woke up.

Darkness clouded your mind. Sitting in class, the fog you knew well was storming your brain cells, making everything else fuzzy and hard to understand. Everyone looked blurry, their faces funny and distorted. They sounded odd. Your heart ached and sunk into the pit of your stomach like it always did. You had no way of explaining what this feeling was and what it meant, but you didn’t like it at all. Once it got you, it had you.

You didn’t try to share any of this with Eddie. You didn’t want him to know how much you struggled. Scaring him away was your worst fear. It was why you never let him see the tops of your thighs. Sex was always under the covers. Lights off. Eddie didn’t complain of course. To him, sex was sex.

And god, did you love him. You loved him with your whole heart and soul. You’d be devastated if he knew your secret. It felt awful to bare, this huge burden you carried on your shoulders. You wondered if any of your other classmates shared it too. There was a darkness in your heart that was eating you alive.

“Babe,” A warm, thick hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you from sinking to the bottom of the pool you were drowning in.

“Huh?” You said a little louder than you’d realized, blinking rapidly as your vision spun around the room. “What?”

You turned around in your seat to find Eddie’s doe eyes narrowed. “You good?” He whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve been staring at the floor for fifteen minutes.” Your class wasn’t even doing anything important. You had a sub, so everyone was doing their own studying or reading. Eddie had been talking to you until you drifted off.

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded with a swallow, grabbing his hand that still laid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Ed.”

“Just checking on my girl.” He gave you a wink that made you blush. “You coming over tonight?”

“Yeah.” You whispered with a fake smile, exhaustion taking over. He could see the way your lips had faltered. You turned back around and laid your head on your desk, arms being your pillow.

Eddie stared at you.

He might not have been the brightest bulb in the shed, but he knew you weren’t the happiest girl in the world. He knew you were sad and weren’t telling him about it. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to pressure you into it, but still, he was worried about you. He wished for one night that they both could talk about you instead of his problems for a change.

Maybe tonight could be the night.

•

You must’ve gotten your period, he figured. Here it was four o’clock in the morning, and for some reason he couldn’t sleep. He had gotten up to get a glass of water but stopped when he’d seen blood seeping through the tops of your sweatpants, the blankets kicked down below your feet.

“Babe,” He said groggily, giving your shoulder a light shake. “Y/n, wake up.”

You hummed back asleep.

“Y/n, I think you got your period,” He rubbed his eyes, leaning over you to switch on the light. “You’re bleeding.”

That woke you up. “Huh?” Your eyes went wide and you sat up. “Oh,” You gasped upon seeing the red leaks of blood seeping from your sweatpants. An inhumane shock of terror left your throat and you leapt from the bed to disappear into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Eddie, thinking it was your period, thought it was a little funny, even if he was exhausted. He got up and followed you to the door. “Baby, hey, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll get some new sheets from the closet, alright? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You didn’t respond. He waited for a moment to see if you would. He even knocked a few times before giving up and switching out the sheets on the bed. In fact, he did a lot before you actually came out. He changed the bed entirely, knocking again until you muttered a shaky response that you’d be out soon. He bit his thumb nail and paced for another five minutes before he went out for a smoke. He remained seated on the bed when you finally came out.

When he saw you, he knew something was deeply wrong. Your face was white and you were visibly shaken. Your face was stained with dried tears, your eyes bloodshot. Your heart felt like it was broken. This was too close. Nobody had ever gotten this close of finding out. The idea of him knowing made you feel sick. It was your burden and yours alone. It was yours. As sick as it was, it was who you were. Who were you if you didn’t do this? You were so used to it. It was routine for you. Half of the time you did it just to….well, just to do it, to feel something. You were addicted.

“Y/n,” Eddie glanced you over. “what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He stepped toward you, grabbing your elbows lightly. “Hey,”

You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go to bed.” You dismissed, now wearing a pair of dark leggings.

“Wait— babe, you’re crying,” He followed you to the bed, watching as you fixed the blanket over yourself. “Are you sick?”

“No, Eddie, I’m fine.” You adjusted your pillow, your body shutting down into survival mode. You needed the situation to be dismissed, shut down. “I’m sorry about the blood, was just my period.”

He sat down on the bed by your thighs. “Don’t be sorry bout’ that, honey. Just want to make sure you’re alright. You need anything? You want some water or something?”

“Eddie, I’m okay.” You stressed, laying down and turning your back to him. “Just forget about it, please.” Your voice broke.

He absolutely did not want to forget about it, not with the way you were trying not to cry. He sat there in the same spot for almost three minutes, eyes glued to your cheek. “Y/n,” He said again. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You groaned into the pillow. “Damnit, Eddie, lay down!”

“See, I know you,” He shook his head. “You would never be this bothered over your period. Hell, last month you chased me around with your tampon!” He said bewildered, chuckling slightly. “Something else is wrong and you’re not telling me, and when something makes my girl cry, I want to know what it is, so tell me what’s got you so worked up, huh?”

You let out a sob and curled into yourself. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. God, you were so stupid. You shouldn’t have cut so deep.

“Baby,” Eddie frowned, leaning down to lay his torso on you, his chin laying on your shoulder so he could look at you. “Did I hurt your feelings today? Did I say something?”

“No.” You cried into your pillow. “No, Eddie, it’s not you. I promise, it isn’t you.”

He thought maybe he should just drop it, let you go to sleep and maybe it would be okay in the morning, but you were still crying, little puffs and pouts here and there. He couldn’t just dismiss that.

“It’s me.” You found yourself saying, out of the blue.

“What?” He missed what you had said. “I can’t hear you, honey.” He strained his ears to hear you.

“It’s fucking me!” You sobbed into your pillow, chest heaving with a heavy breath that made him jolt. “I’m the fucking problem!”

He had no idea why you were so upset. He didn’t know what to do. He gulped harshly. “Y/n,” He cooed, shushing you gently. He scooted closer, holding you tighter to place a kiss on your temple. “I’m here, baby. Shh, shh, I’m here.”

You let go, sobbing in his arms and into your wet pillow, you broke down in sobs. Most of it was just because you were purely exhausted and you were emotionally drained, depressed. This week you were in a deeper funk than what you’ve normally been in. You hadn’t been eating properly to start. Your showers consisted of laying on the floor and imaging yourself drowning. The idea of Eddie knowing your secret made you want to die, yet you spoke anyway.

“I’m so sad.” You whimpered while Eddie rocked you in his arms, his hands stroking your hair.

He’d thought maybe you’d fallen asleep. You’d been quiet for several minutes. “Why, baby?” He kissed your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” You thought, a crinkle in your nose as you tried to reason why you felt the way you did. “Something is wrong with me, Eddie.”

You were starting to scare him. He’d never heard you talk like this before. He swallowed hard, batting his eyes across the room like his answers were a poster on the wall. “Y/n, if you tell me maybe I can help you.”

God, was help possible? Could you stop? Did you even want to? Who were you if you didn’t have that one constant in your life?

The idea brought on a wave of fresh tears, your lips turning down in a blubbering frown. “You’ll think I’m disgusting.” Your back shook against his broad, bare chest. “You won’t— you won’t ever look at me the same. You’ll think…fuck, you’ll think I’m disgusting.” You sobbed broken-hearted.

Eddie started at your face, features masked in concern. He didn’t know what to do to make you feel better, and his mind was flashing the worst things that could’ve made you so upset, his imagination getting the best of him.

“Sweetheart, I promise whatever you think I’m going to say or do isn’t true.” He leaned over to wipe a tear. “I’m going to love you no matter what you say. That’s how this works, remember? Please, baby, tell me. You’re worrying me.”

Guilt made your heart pound. You let out a long mewl, curling up like a cat so you could cry. Eddie still didn’t let you go. This was your nightmare, yet you, yourself, were making it come true.

“I didn’t get my period.” You said with wet lashes.

“What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes down at you.

You let out a sob, holding a hand to your stomach. “I mean, I- fuck, I didn’t get my..my- period!” You hyperventilated through your breath.

“Shh, calm down, sweetheart, you don’t have to rush,” He soothed you, rubbing your arms. “Come on, sit up with me.” He gently lifted you by the torso, your hair cascading down your back. You looked like a scared little girl. Your eyes were wet and your face was soaked like you’d been laying in the rain. Eddie sighed, his mouth in a frown as he tried to help you.

“Breath, honey,” He fixed your hair, smoothing it down in rough places.

“I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, grabbing his hands tightly, squeezing them.

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for, angel. Just want you to tell me what’s got you so upset. What is it that you want to tell me?” He knew whatever it was, you wanted to tell him. And deep down, you did. Maybe that was why you couldn’t shut the hell up.

“I’m so scared.” You shuttered a breath. “I’m so scared that you’ll…what you’ll think of me.”

His heart was beating loud in his chest. “You said that you didn’t get your period,” He tried to question you gently. “What does that mean?”

Did you really want to do this? Did you want to just let it all go within a blink of an eye? Truthfully, yeah. Yeah, you did. You couldn’t do it anymore. At least not alone.

You sat up slightly, fingertips grabbing the waistband of your sweats as you tugged them down to your knees. You didn’t look at him as you sank back down to sit on your ankles.

“I cut too deep.” You wept, staring down at your thighs. It was your canvas, your target area. They were scared on every inch. Some white and faded with age, some angry and red.

When Eddie saw them, it connected all dots instantly. His eyes widened in horror at your legs. They looked absolutely terrifying. He couldn’t help let out a gasp. “Oh, god, y/n,”

His large palms ghosted over them, and he leaned down so he could examine them closer. “Jesus,” His own eyes blurred with tears, his bottom lip quivering with emotion.

“I know,” You shook your head shamefully. “I know, Eddie, but I can’t help it.” You lifted your head up as you shuttered out a tearful breath. “I can’t stop no matter how hard I try. It’s the only thing that helps me.”

“God, y/n,” He traced your scars with his fingertips, jaw fallen slack in shock.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You bawled. “I’m so…I don’t know, I’m just- just- so miserable and it’s the only thing that seems to help. I’m just so used to doing it and I don’t think I can stop!” You blubbered, snot dripping onto your cupid’s bow and dipping into your lip.

Eddie’s head snapped up. “Oh, baby, come here.” He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You crawled to him immediately. He cradled your back as you threw your legs around his waist, your chests flush together in a bear hug. You sobbed into his shoulder, his kisses peppering your neck. “I’m here, I’m here.” He repeated.

“My angel baby, I’m here.”

Your body wracked with moans and groans of heartbreak, but you couldn’t deny the amount of relief that left your soul. It finally wasn’t alone on your shoulders. “God, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” Eddie hushed you. “You have nothing, nothing at all to be sorry about. I should be apologizing. I should have realized. I had no idea you were unhappy.”

“I’m so fucked up,” Your voice muffled against his skin. “I don’t even know why I’m sad I just- I just am! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Stop saying that.” He held the back of your head with his palm. “How you feel is perfectly understandable. I’m glad you told me. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Baby, I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this alone, but I’m right here now, okay? I’m gonna help you through this. I’m gonna help you rise above this because you’re so strong and you don’t even realize it. But you’re my girl and I know.” He rocked you in his arms, cradled you like a baby as you cried. “I know, baby, I’m here, I’ve got you honey.”

“Please, help me.” You fisted his curls, your chest hollow, yet heavy with emotion. “I need help.”

He nodded, whispering soothing words of encouragement as he fought off a wave of tears. “You can get past this. I did.”

You pulled away, your face an absolute mess. Red, snotty and tearful. Your lips pulled down in the deepest of frowns. “Oh, Eddie,”

He turned his elbow in a 90 degree angle, and angle you’ve never exactly examined, and cried when you saw the faded white scars. You went right back to his chest, holding him like a teddy bear. “Oh, Eddie, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

He held you close and kissed your shoulder, allowing one singular tear to spill that you didn’t have to see. He stopped when he met you. You were his saving grace. He’d be sure and do the same for you. His angel baby.

[foreingersgod]

Hi, I just read the Caitlin Clark x tennis reader. Would you possibly do a Caitlin Clark x volleyball reader, where the reader is more femme. Something along the lines of maybe reader plays for Texas vb and wins the championship.. sorry for the poor wording. Keep up ur amazing work!!

-anon

i would love too! again, i apologize for any inaccuracies in how i wrote the volleyball aspect of this, i’ve never played before so bare with me ! <3

Championship . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin supports you during your big win

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you had been working your ass off this season. it was your senior year at the college you attended and your last year playing volleyball with your team, you were very overwhelmed to say the least. there were so many nights spent on the court late at night, trying to perfect every move and every technique. you desperately wanted to take your team to the championship and win this title for them.

so you pushed yourself to your limits, still trying to maintain your grades and personal life. caitlin, your girlfriend, was incredibly understanding of course. she knew what it was like to want to win so bad, so bad that it felt like you were going to lose your mind. but she kept you grounded. you had always been there for her with basketball, and she wanted to show you that same appreciation for your dreams.

she attended every single game, often making the trip with you for away games. she’d bring flowers for you on occasion for your big wins, and she’d tend to bruises on your knees from diving and scrapes on your arms. she was so incredibly good to you.

you were lucky to have someone who understood the stress of the game and how it felt to struggle with wanting to win and not let down your team.

your hard work had paid off this season, though. thanks to your team, your coach, your family and friends, and especially caitlin. you led your team to victory and you were now heading to the final game in the champions ship. of course, your training remained intensive up until the game, stretching you thin.

the night before your game, caitlin made sure to treat you to a small night in to help you relax. she set up a movie and dinner, tended to your aching shoulders, completely shifting all of her attention to you. when you had woke up the next morning to get ready for the big day, she had even helped you get ready to help keep your mind at ease.

“you know i can braid my own hair, right?” you were finishing up your makeup, putting on some mascara and the lip gloss cait had gotten you for your anniversary a while back. caitlin had walked into the bathroom, offering to do your hair for you so you didn’t have to worry about it.

“yea i know, but i want to do it for you this time” she smiled at you through the mirror “like my way of sending you good luck, then you’ll know i’m always with you even on the court”

“that’s so sweet, cait” you turned around, pecking her on the cheek “just don’t do it too tight, please”

so there she stood, towering over behind you, twisting the 3 strands of your hair into a braid. her tongue sticking out slightly as she stayed focused on getting it perfect, just how you liked it. when she was finished, she proudly showed it off to you. you thanked her again before changing into your uniform and grabbing your bag.

once you arrived to the court for the championship, you and caitlin walked down to the locker room so she could give you a quick pep talk and a final kiss goodbye. “you’re going to absolutely kill it, babe, good luck!”

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

after ages of waiting in the locker room; getting warmed up, strategizing with your team, talking with your coach, it was finally time to head onto the court. you could hear the entire audience cheering as the announcers called on each one of your teammates, the anticipation for the game sat thick in the air.

the game started off well, everyone was quick on their feet, prepared for the opponent’s next move. you were probably having one of the best games in your career and you could just about feel that trophy in your hands. you had managed to hold a lead for the majority of the game, but within the last few minutes it tied, all boiling down to one last play.

you held your breathe as your teammate served the ball, watching as it sailed over the net. you stood ready, feet planted, heart racing, and determined more than you had ever been. the ball bounced back and forth over the net before eventually hurdling your way. your muscles tensed, eyes glued to the ball. you leapt, body a blur of motion, hand connecting with the ball in a perfect spike. Time seemed to halt as the ball soared over the net, bypassing the outstretched arms of the opposing team. the crowd erupted into cheers as you all watched the ball land on their court. you had scored the final point.

your team immediately surrounded you, lifting you up and cheering your name. there were so many tears and so many hugs as you all cherished the win of your last game together.

once the excitement died down with your team, you noticed caitlin on the side, making her way over to you. you smiled so big your cheeks hurt, running over to her as fast as you could. caitlin scooped you up into her arms, spinning you around from how fast you ran into her. your head buried itself into the side of her neck as you cried tears of joy, her arms squeezing you tight.

“i’m so fucking proud of you baby” she whispered in your ear, praising you gently and setting you back down on your feet “the best fucking player out there, hands down”

“thanks, cait” you beamed, pulling her back into another hug. “i can’t believe it”

“i can! you’ve been working your ass off for four years to get to this point! you deserve it more than anyone, YN” she said, watching how you bounced with excitement.

you and caitlin celebrated a little bit more on the court before you had to spilt to go talk to your friends and family, she waited patiently for you, observing how happy you looked taking pictures with the trophy and talking to your friends. it was such a rewarding sight to see, she was the most proud a girlfriend could be.

even when you had both arrived home, still buzzing with the post-win high. she showered you with praise and attention, making sure you knew how happy she was for you.

cait made you feel so special, no matter how sad the loss or how big the win. you were so privileged to have her at your side, supporting you through such an amazing collegiate career.

[toutvatoujoursbien]

A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash? 

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably.  Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it. 

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really). 

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo. 

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very  unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play. 

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read. 

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make. 

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he’s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part. 

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media -  they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it. 

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time. 

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way. 

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye. 

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything. 

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

[migalloyuji]

I hate the F1 community so much, how is it that Checo has a bad performance and he’s beyond “criticized”? And this criticism is full of xenophobia, slurs, insults about his personal life.

Not to mention completely erasing his previous achievements? Great wins, great results, Constructos Championships and the first 1&2 for Reb Bull Racing ever completely forgotten.

I love Charles Leclerc and how I celebrated his win in Monaco, his home race, an achievement not only for Ferrari but a personal one for him after so many unfortunate bad GPs where luck wasn’t on his side. Yet for some reason I’ve never seen any f1 fan doubting his place in Ferrari, claiming he doesn’t deserve his seat.

I need to clarify this is no hate to Charles, he’s an amazing driver, I’ve been supporting him and I firmly believe he will be Champion in a few years, but let’s be real, he has had a very poor performance ever since his win in Monaco and he is the number one driver from Ferrari. But we can blame it on the car, on the strategy, many factors never once his skills and talent are questioned let alone claim that he doesn’t deserve a seat.

Again and very important to clarify, is no hate to Leclerc, is just an example and a reminder that this treatment is only reserved for Checo for no reason other than racism and xenophobia.

yes he bolted the Qualy in Silverstone and is a mistake he can’t afford, but his team gives him poor strategies or uses his car for testing yet all the blame is on him? never once on the team? Who ordered an unsafe release? It wasn’t his call, He had an incident with Gasly which left a big ass hole in his car yet suddenly he doesn’t know how to drive?

May I remind you he was up in the podium at the beginning of the season?!

I seriously can’t understand why people treat him this way

Anayways I’m beyond drunk and had to get this out of my system somehow, Good day and please Universe stop mistreating Checo and Charles, they deserve better

[bots-and-cons]

Could we please have comfort scenario or hcs (whichever one will be easier for this prompt) with a transmasculine reader who got poor treatment from doctors/medical personel and is now scared of doctors - with Knockout?

Thank you! Your writing helps fills in the hole after tfp ended <3 /pos

A/N: I started doing a scenario for this but I got like two sentences in and didn’t know what to write anymore. So HCs it is, also thank you very much. I’ve certainly been subjected to some bad treatment by medical professionals, though in my case it’s been because I’m overweight among other things. I also have this post and this post about trans!reader. These ended up pretty short, so sorry about that and not very specific to trans stuff, sorry about that too...

•Knockout knows your fear of doctors is very much justified, he’s heard all about how bad they’ve treated you

•Honestly, the stuff you humans have to deal with is sometimes very much beyond his understanding, because what the fuck?

•Cybertronians don’t have the same concept of gender as humans, so he doesn’t really understand the discrimination and stuff that happens because of it

•He does experience other types of discrimination, such as the whole “why is your alt mode a car and not something capable of flight?” and he has heard that all his life

•It’s probably better to say he doesn’t understand the experience of it, because he has never had to deal with it, but he can still empathize

•Anyway, Knockout has seen how hard it is for you to go to the doctor’s because of past experiences

•He always drives you to your appointments and waits for you while you’re there

•Knockout has calmed you down after many bad appointments, and he’s always there for you

•He lets you complain as long as you need to, and he doesn’t offer advice unless you want it

•Since you go to the same doctor every time, you two also gossip about whatever you happen to hear when you’re in the clinic

•Knockout is a huge gossiper, and he comes up with pretty outlandish scenarios about the nurses and doctors based on the little info he gets, just to make you laugh

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WITAH for not telling someone my middle name?

My brother invited me to go bookstore browsing with him, his friend John, and John’s wife Rachel, neither of whom I’d met before. We’re all adults, late 20s-early 30s, I present F.

After introductions, we split to browse individually, saying hi if we ran into each other but otherwise continuing to do our own thing.

The second time Rachel and I crossed paths, she asked what my middle name was. I swear it was the first question out of her mouth in a one-on-one conversation, which absolutely floored me because in the many places I’ve lived, it has always been my experience that middle names can be a touchy subject, so it’s never something you’d just come out and ask someone?

I really didn’t want to tell her because, besides being a very private person, my middle name is *john mulaney voice* one of the things I’m sensitive about.

But I didn’t want to be rude and didn’t want to make her feel like she had been rude either, so I compromised and said that my middle name is actually a last name but didn’t tell her what it was.

I thought my words and tone were a strong enough indicator that I Didn’t Want To Tell Her So Let’s Please Talk About Other Things Now, but when she explained she wanted to see if mine was similar to a family member’s who shared my first name, she very clearly still expected an answer.

(sidenote: I can understand the curiosity but also have such a common first name that 5% of the people I work with have it, so it’s not like her meeting someone with my name was a rare occurrence or anything)

Well. I still didn’t want to tell her and couldn’t for the life of me think of a polite way to express “I literally met you 30 minutes ago, there’s no way I’m telling you my middle name when most of my friends don’t even know it??” So I just kind of laughed awkwardly and said that if her relative’s middle name wasn’t also a last name then it definitely wasn’t similar.

Then I asked her if there were any books she was hoping to find while we were there, and after a little small talk, we parted and didn’t really talk again for the rest of the night.

I fully realize this is low stakes but I feel like I need a reality check here like is this a normal thing to ask someone you just met?? Was this just a case of poor social skills or was Rachel the AH for asking (and then pressing) a near-stranger for their middle name? Is this just my anxiety-brain overthinking the entire interaction, or am I the AH for being so cagey and not answering when she asked me multiple times?

What are these acronyms?

[vodika-vibes]

Undersea/Merfolk AU with the Bad Batch please! Can be romantic or platonic.

Stand By You

Summary: You spent your whole life living in the Royal Orphanage of Atlantis. According to the Matron, you were found on the front steps when you were hours old, and no one ever showed any interest in adopting you. You’ve since aged out of the system, luckily, you made some pretty solid friends. Unluckily, you’ve also landed squarely in the crosshairs of a Sea Wizard.

Pairing: platonic TBB x F!Reader, hinted Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2792

Prompt: Merfolk AU

Warnings: reader is attacked

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I wasn't sure, at first, where I was going with this, and then I had an idea. And then I had to change the idea halfway through because it was edging into Little Mermaid territory. Anyway! I hope you like it~

“I’m telling you,” You say with a roll of your eyes as you flip so that you can look at Tech while swimming backward, “I am a very poor fit for the Atlantis military.”

“You have not even tried,” Tech points out as he adjusts his glasses, then swiftly grabs your wrist to keep you from swimming into a statue, “You can not continue living in a cave outside of the city.”

A petulant pout forms on your lips, “Watch me.”

He sighs as he carefully tugs you so you’re swimming next to him, “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

You glare at him and flick your fingers towards your tail. Your very mammalian tail. Unlike the other merpeople of Atlantis, your tail looks more like a seal than a fish.

Tech glances at your tail, and then at you, “No one cares that your tail looks different.”

“Correction, you don’t care that my tail looks different. Everyone else cares a lot.” You fold your arms, “Just because they don’t say it around you, doesn’t mean they don’t say it.”

“Well, that is a good reason for you to get a military job,” Tech tries, “Make people see you differently.”

“It’s like you’re being deliberately obtuse, Tech. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“I am listening to you!” Tech stops and grabs your shoulders, “You are not listening to me. It is not safe for you to live outside the city. Do you know what it would do to us if something happened because we were not there to protect you?”

You sigh and lightly wrap your hands around his wrists, “Tech. I know you’re only being like this because you care—”

“Because you are family,” Tech says.

“But you’re making me feel like you don’t actually care about what I’m saying.”

He closes his eyes, and drops his hands, “That…is not my intention. I am sorry, vod.”

“I forgive you.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, and then Tech bumps your shoulder with his, “I would feel more comfortable if you moved behind the walls.” He says, “But I understand why you might not want to do that.”

“It’s not like I want to live in a cave like a sea witch, Tech. No one will hire me. And, without any money, I’m kind of stuck.” He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off with a press of your finger against his lips, “And don’t even think of saying that I can move into your barracks. There’s barely enough room for the four of you.”

Tech sighs, “I do not like that you are right about that.”

You grin at him, “Relax. I’ve been living in that cave for years now, and nothing bad has happened.”

“Yet. Nothing bad has happened yet.” Tech corrects.

“Well, maybe I’ll be lucky.” You shrug, as if you’re unbothered, “Anyway, thanks for coming shopping with me.” You add as you lift your netted bag.

“You are welcome. Are you heading home?”

“That’s the plan. Tell the others that they can come and visit whenever,” You say as you back away from him, “And be careful at work, all of you.”

“You do not have to worry about us.”

“Truth, I’m going to do it anyway.” You quickly dart in and press your lips against his cheek, “I’ll see you later, Tech.”

“I will tell the others that you say hi,” Tech replies.

You toss him one more grin, and then turn to swim down the path that will take you out of Atlantis proper, splitting from Tech, who continues straight to the military barracks. 

Your home is near the kelp forest, several miles away from the solid walls that mark the city of Atlantis. The location tends to work in your favor, seeing as there’s a lot of food in the kelp forest that you can gather, or catch, without having to pay for it.

On the other hand, your neighbors aren’t the best.

One of your neighbors, a Cecaelia sea wizard, who goes by the name Verdant, has been trying to coax you into his employ for the better part of the last two years.

He’s nice enough, you suppose. He understands what it is to be seen as not normal in Atlantis and has always been your biggest supporter when it comes to helping you advocate for yourself.

Still, you have no intention of working for him. 

You have the feeling that working for him would put you in opposition with your closest friends, and you’d sooner cut off your arms than allow that to happen.

You slow as you approach your home, a single brow arching when you see Verdant, and his two most loyal retainers, in front of your cave. “Something you need, gentlemen?” You ask as you swim over to them. 

“Ah, my dear,” Verdant beams at you as he swims over to you, “I was wondering where you were.”

“In Atlantis,” You reply, “They get deliveries of surface fruit this time of year, and it’s something that I enjoy when I can.”

Verdant’s grin seems to widen, “How wonderful! Tell me, my dear,”

There’s something about the way that he’s grinning that makes your skin crawl, and you begin to regret not taking Tech up on his offer to crash with him and his brothers for the night. 

One of Verdant’s cronies moves so that he’s almost circling you, ushering you closer to Verdant, “Tell me, you’re friends with several members of the Atlantis Military.”

“We grew up in the Orphanage together,” You reply, it’s not an answer, not really, and judging by how his smile fades, he agrees.

Roughly, Verdant grabs your chin, “I want you to convince your friends to look the other way while we enter the city.”

“No.” The answer falls from you almost without your permission. 

“No?”

“No. I’m not going to help you. Let me go.” You try to jerk your head out of his grip, but he just tightens his hold on you, until it’s painful.

“I have been exceedingly patient with you, child. You have to help me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” You counter, “Can’t we go back to just being neighbors who sometimes say hi to each other?”

“No.” Verdant releases you and you try to back away, only for the twins to latch onto you, holding you still. “If you won’t work with me, then I suppose you’ll just have to suffer.”

“What do you—?” You’re cut off when you feel a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

“I am a variant of the Blue Ringed Octopus, little one. Your death is going to be very slow and very painful.” He lightly pats your cheek as your vision starts going grey at the edges, “Assuming you don’t bleed to death first, of course. Release her. We have places to be.”

The arms holding you still vanish, and you sink to the ground.

They swim away while you struggle to cling to consciousness. Whatever they did to you, you can’t seem to move your tail, wherever you try, it sends shockwaves of pain through your whole body.

The next thing you’re acutely aware of is a cry of your name. 

Omega leans over you, her hands pressing firmly against the wound on your abdomen, “—ld on, just hold on! Help is coming!”

What a shame.

The last thing you would have ever wanted was for Omega to find your body. The only thing worse would be dying in her arms.

Shame that it isn’t your choice anymore.

You sink into darkness with Omega’s increasingly panicked cries of your name ringing in your ears.

The waiting room in the Atlantis Military Hospital is silent save for the muffled sobs of Omega as she buries her face in Wrecker’s side.

And while Hunter would usually love the fact that it’s not loud, after six hours of waiting for some news, any news, the silence is beginning to be deafening. 

He drums his fingers against his side for a moment and then swims over to the window, just for something to do, while he tries to stop thinking about what she looked like when they found her.

He wants to forget the blood and how unnaturally still she was.

Hunter wants to be angry that Omega was the one who found her, he wants to rage at her, and tell her that if she just listened to them, this wouldn’t have happened.

But after 6 hours, his rage has been totally extinguished. Replaced with an icy terror.

What is he going to do if she dies?

How is he supposed to keep their family going if she dies?

Hunter flickers his gaze around the room. Omega isn’t crying anymore, though it looks like she’s cried herself to sleep while cuddled against Wrecker. She still has blood on her hands and shirt and streaked down her tail.

Hunter should have helped her get cleaned up, why didn’t he help her get cleaned up?

Wrecker is tense, his hands curling into fists, and then relaxing, before curling back into fists. This has to be torment for him, the sitting and the waiting. He seems pretty calm, all things considered though. Probably because Omega is right there.

Hunter wants to say something to him, to reassure him that she’ll be alright, that she’s stronger that people give her credit for. But, in truth, he doesn’t believe it himself.

So he keeps his mouth shut and flickers his gaze over to Tech.

Tech is sitting closest to the doors that lead to surgery. He’s flipping through a book, very quickly, and a glance at the titles makes Hunter shake his head. They’re books on medicine, surgery, and poisons. Of course, Tech is dealing with the situation in the only way he can. His hands are shaking, though.

Makes sense, Tech was the last person to see her before she was injured. He’s probably blaming himself. No one else here blames him, of course, but Tech has always been his own worst critic. Hunter will have to keep an eye on that, and maybe call Phee if he starts to spiral too badly.

Finally, Hunter turns his attention to Crosshair. Crosshair is folded into a chair, his head in his hands.

Right. Crosshair has always been closest to her. She’s always been very good at handling his mood swings, even when they were kids, and Hunter’s pretty sure that Crosshair’s feelings towards her have long since stopped being simply platonic. 

Not that he’d ever admit it, even to himself.

“You’re staring, Hunter.” Crosshair says quietly.

“Just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’m not the one that was nearly murdered. I’m fine.”

“She’s going to be fine.”

Crosshair releases a bitter laugh, “You don’t even believe that yourself.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything for a moment and then turns to face Crosshair fully. He opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when the door to the surgical suite opens, and the Doctor enters the room.

He looks exhausted, but pleased with himself. 

The Doctor’s gaze sweeps the room, and he nods once, “Her injuries are severe, but I’ve managed to repair the worst of the damage, and she has been given the first of three doses of anti-toxin. We won’t know the extent of the damage until she wakes up, but assuming nothing goes wrong over the next couple of days, she’s going to be just fine.”

The tight string of tension that had been running through all of the brothers snaps at the doctor's words as they slump in relief. “Is she allowed visitors?” Hunter asks.

“Not just yet. Give us some time to get her settled in the observation ward, and then you can visit her.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Tech says as he straightens, “This is very good news.”

The Doctor smiles at them and then turns and leaves the room.

No one moves for a moment, and then Omega lets out a delighted noise and she twirls, “She’s going to be okay!”

“So it seems,” Hunter agrees, a relieved smile on his face.

Slowly, you open your eyes, feeling like you’ve been asleep for far, far too long. You feel warm and comfortable, and it takes you a moment to completely push the sleep away to figure out where you are. 

There’s a quiet beeping noise coming from nearby, and you roll your head to see what is making that noise, momentarily confused when you see a heart monitor next to your bed.

You slowly sit up, the blanket tumbling from your chest to settle at your waist, and you absently tug on the sleeve of the shirt you’re wearing. It looks, and feels, like the soft material used in hospitals. 

And then you remember. Verdant. His Cronies. The stabbing.

You lift the hem of your shirt and peer down at your stomach. There’s a massive wound, running from just over your hip, across your stomach, and stopping just under the breast at the opposite side.

You touch the injury, and aside from some faint pain, it doesn’t hurt.

You must be on some good painkillers.

It’s about that time when you realize that you can’t feel your tail. For a moment you think that Verdant cut your tail off to punish you, though as you move the blanket, you can see your tail is still there. 

White and dark grey with black spots.

The same tail you were born with. The same tail that had you treated as an outsider. 

You stare at your tail as you try to move it. To twitch your flipper, or anything.

But nothing happens.

The door to your room opens, and you turn to stare at the Doctor. He looks surprised to see you awake, but then he smiles, “How are you feelin—?”

“I can’t feel my tail.” You interrupt.

His smile vanishes.

The next couple of hours fly by. Tests and more tests, and long conversations with dozens of different doctors, and they all say the same thing.

The attack that nearly killed you permanently damaged your spinal cord. You’re likely never going to be able to move your tail ever again. And then they leave you on your own, with little more than an appointment with a therapist to help you learn to live with your new circumstances.

And so, you’re not in the best mood when your family arrives to visit you. 

Though, Omega flinging herself into your arms, wrapping her arms tightly around your neck, and burying her face in your hair is almost enough to make you smile again. 

“How are you feeling?” Crosshair asks, as he moves to the other side of the bed, his sharp gaze flickering across you as if searching for any injuries the doctor might have missed.

“I’m…okay, all things considered.”

“Just okay?” Tech asks.

You frown slightly, “I’m going to be in the hospital for a bit longer.” And then you hesitate.

“What’s wrong?” That’s Wrecker, from the doorway. The room isn’t really big enough for everyone.

“Um…well,” You pause, “The attack left some lingering damage.”

Hunter lightly takes your hand in his, “Tell us.”

“I’m paralyzed,” You clench your jaw, to keep yourself from crying. You’re still alive, there’s no reason to be upset. “I can’t swim anymore.” Hunter’s grip on your hand tightens, “The doctors are working on coming up with a way for me to still be independent, but—”

You start when Crosshair lays his cheek against the top of your head, “We’ll help.”

“As much as we can.” Wrecker agrees.

“If we pool our money,” Tech says, “We can afford a place outside the barracks for all of us to live. I will work up a budget.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly,” Omega says stubbornly, “We’re family, this is what family does.”

Some of the anxiety fades away, and you flash the smallest smile towards all of them, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Hunter says, “We’re not doing anything that you wouldn’t do for us.” He flashes a small smile, “We take care of each other.”

“You are going to have to talk to Marshal Commander Cody about the attack,” Crosshair says, “Everyone is very interested in knowing who attacked you so close to Atlantis.”

You nod at him, “I know. I’ll tell him everything he wants to know.”

Two weeks later, you’re released from the hospital with your new mobility harness strapped around you. You’re going to need help for a while, while you adapt to it, but you’re not too worried.

You have a pretty solid support system, after all.

And they’ll never let you get hurt.

[pippytmi]

leah x fatin from this prompt list: "it’s like 3AM and my roommate locked me out of the house and I forgot my keys and I’m really drunk pls take pity on me and let me crash at your place for the night o’ neighbor of mine AU"

_______________________________________

“Dorothy,” Fatin groans, thumping her head against the door for the millionth time. “Please, please, let me in. Are you mad at me? Is it because I called your boyfriend a grade-A hottie? I was just trying to be supportive, I don’t really find him that hot.” She pauses. “Or is it the laundry thing? I swear I’ll stop stealing your T-shirts and actually go to the laundromat more. I’ve never touched your lesbian cargo pants! Doesn't that count for anything? Dorothyyyy.”

Still nothing but continued silence. Fatin takes a sad gulp of her beatbox and debates crying. Maybe then Dot will open the door—she hates it when Fatin cries, calls it gross and ugly. At the very least, Dot won't subject the neighbors to it.

There’s a sudden cough, and Fatin sits up, prepared to fight for her life (or at least her drink), but there’s no danger in sight; it’s just Leah, the reclusive student who lives across the hall, who sometimes comes over when Dot needs help drinking the beer Fatin refuses to touch. “I think your roommate is out,” she tells Fatin slowly. “I saw her leave like three hours ago.”

“Well fuck me,” Fatin says, stunned. “I’ve been groveling to that bitch for like twenty minutes.”

Leah shifts from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. “Yeah, I heard you,” she says. “It’s kind of distracting.”

“Distracting?” Fatin repeats, first out loud, and then several more times in her head, not sure what to make of it. Until understanding suddenly dawns, and she sits up with a renewed interest. “Holy shit, do you have company over? Are you getting some?”

“What? No!” Leah’s skin turns a bright shade of red. “I’m trying to write a paper.”

“Ugh, lame,” Fatin says, slumping right back against the floor. “Just when I thought you might be interesting.”

Leah blinks. “Okay, well,” she says after a beat. “I just wanted to let you know.” She cracks open her apartment door, lingering in the doorway only to ask, “Will you be…alright?”

“No, Leah, I will not,” Fatin scoffs. “I’m drunk as shit and I need to pee and Dot has obviously abandoned me when I need her the most. I'm probably going to die in this hallway.” She has to pause for a necessary shiver. “I think this might be the lowest I've ever been. Like, physically and emotionally.”

Two doors down, there is the distinct sound of a bang against the wall. “Shut the fuck up!”

“You shut up!” Fatin yells back at whoever it is. Toni, probably. What an asshole.

Leah doesn't move, still half-shielded by her own door, and she does not comment on Toni’s asshole-ness. “Did you try calling Dot’s phone?”

“Obviously,” Fatin says. “But now my phone’s dead, and Dot didn't answer any of my calls. I called her like fifty times, Leah. At least.”

Another bang. “It's three in the fucking morning!”

“Go to hell, Toni!”

Leah sighs. “I can try to call Dot,” she says, like this is all some big inconvenience to her, which is really very rude considering that Fatin and Dot are stellar neighbors. Plus Dot is almost Leah’s friend, so…Fatin is a friend by association. Or whatever. “Do you have anywhere you can stay in the meantime?”

“No, I live here now,” Fatin says sorrowfully, stretching out onto the horrifyingly sticky carpet floor. “Hey. Wait a second, I can just crash with you!”

“Uh,” Leah casts an uneasy glance over her shoulder. “My roommate is asleep, and the place isn't really fit for…company.”

“Are you really going to make me beg twice?” Fatin says. “Cause you know I can do it. I will cry on your doorstep. That is a threat and a promise.” She sits up, determined, as Leah continues to hesitate. “Come on! Take pity on a poor, drunk, damsel in distress. I have a stupid chem final tomorrow—are you really going to let me suffer out here all night?”

“I guess you can stay until Dot’s back,” Leah says, finally opening her door all the way. “But you have to be really quiet. Rachel will kill both of us if you wake her up.”

“Rachel loves me, don’t even worry,” Fatin says, downing the rest of her beatbox in one go. Or mostly, anyway, because some of it spills out of the corner of her mouth. Whatever, it’s not like the carpet hasn’t seen worse spills.

Leah doesn’t attempt to hide her wince. But she also does not take her invitation back, so Fatin counts it as a win.

“I’ll get you a phone charger,” Leah says. A beat. “And some water.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Fatin says, sinking onto the couch with a deep, satisfied exhale. “Any chance you have food? I would actually kill for something deep-fried.”

“We probably don’t have much, but you can look,” Leah’s voice fades out as she vanishes into the bedroom, and Fatin doesn’t need to be told twice.

Probably is too kind a word—there is absolutely nothing to eat at all, beside a stack of individual meals in tupperware that are aggressively labeled “Rachel.” Fatin abandons the fridge and rummages through the cupboards instead, finding her saving grace in the one constant of any college diet: instant ramen.

Before Fatin can even tear it open for an attempt at (drunk) cooking, Leah comes back, and she eyes Fatin up and down like she wants to say something but doesn't. Except: “I found a charger.”

Fatin hugs the ramen to her chest and can only stare. “That's not an iPhone charger,” she says. “Oh God, are you an Android girl?”

Leah frowns. “What’s wrong with having an Android?”

“I am so sorry you live in the dinosaur age,” Fatin says, crinkling her nose in disgust. “Forget it, I’ll have to borrow one from Rachel in the morning.”

“So now you’re staying the night?” Leah doesn’t even try to hide her unease at the idea.

Fatin huffs. “Oh relax, I’m not trying to sleep in your bed or anything,” she says. “Just let me crash on your couch, c’mon. Don't be a dick…please.”

“Fine, whatever,” Leah says, obviously affronted at the idea of being called a dick. “You’re not going to throw up, are you?”

“No, I will not throw up on your precious couch. Damn, you’re judgy.” Fatin goes right back to her unopened ramen in a futile attempt to open it with her nails (they’re a new set, and too expensive to break), before Leah finally sighs and takes pity on her.

“If I make you something to eat, will you be quiet?”

“Can you even cook?” Fatin snarks right back, but Leah plucks the bag from Fatin’s hands without taking the bait.

“Bathroom’s the first door down the hallway,” Leah says—an obvious dismissal—and Fatin would be offended if she didn't have to take a piss.

The bathroom mirror has seen better days, cracked right down the middle like something out of a horror movie. Fatin’s mascara-smeared face reflects back at her, and she halfheartedly scrubs at the marks until she looks more alive.

When she’s done, she re-enters the kitchen to find Leah poking the bubbling Ramen with a fork and inspiring zero confidence that this girl can even cook. The fact is only driven home when Leah asks,

“Do you want cheese?”

“Cheese?” Fatin repeats. “Am I a fucking mouse?”

Leah rolls her eyes. “On your noodles.” She waves a Kraft single between two fingers, and Fatin officially loses all respect for this girl.

“Ew, no way,” Fatin says. “That stuff's practically radioactive.”

“Then here.” Leah pours the soup into a bowl, immediately moves off to rinse out the pot and clean up the minimal mess from her efforts.

Suddenly, Fatin feels the tiniest bit guilty. Maybe she's not exactly the best house guest…or whatever. “Wait, don't you want some of this?”

Leah twists to look at Fatin, and she's noticeably perplexed at the offer. “It's three in the morning.”

“And?” Fatin waits for a better answer. Leah doesn't give one.

So that's how they end up splitting instant ramen noodles, Leah with (gross) cheese on hers and Fatin with a generous helping of Sriracha on her own. They put the TV on mute and read the subtitles for a horrible black-and-white movie on Netflix, and a thought suddenly occurs to Fatin.

“Hey, is this a date?”

Leah chokes. “What?”

“We’re having dinner and watching a movie,” Fatin says. “This is more wine and dine action than I’ve seen in years.”

“I’m just keeping you company until Dot comes home or you fall asleep,” Leah says. “God, you’re a lot more self-centered than Dot says.”

Fatin narrows her eyes. “She told you I was self-centered?”

“She said self-involved, actually.” Leah carefully drinks some soup from the rim of her bowl. “And you’re also drunk. I wouldn’t go on a date with a drunk person.”

“So you’re saying you would consider a date with me when I’m sober?” Fatin asks, and Leah turns a bright shade of red.

“No,” Leah says, and continues eating.

“That would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t keep staring at my tits,” Fatin says, unfazed as she waves her chopsticks in the air, and Leah chokes all over again.

(It’s certainly going to be something to revisit in the morning, in any case).

[may-jailers-version]

The untold tale - a Lara Croft fanfic

So this is supposed to evolve into a Lara Croft x (fem) reader thing but I pumped this sort of intro (in the middle of the night instead of sleeping lol) and I want to see if ppl are actually interested in knowing more about this fanfic idea I’ve been having for months. As you’ll understand it’s also a lot about Lara’s mother (bc let’s be honest this woman is so fine and deserves some fine ass story of her own) and it is set shortly after the shadow events, so don’t expect lots of adventure at least in the beginning of the story. Pardon me if there is some inaccuracies regarding the video game I watched the play through a lil while ago (yes “watched”, I don’t have the money to play the games, sorry, I’m a poor student leave me alone 😭).

Even though the following text isn’t really “mature” rated, if I continue the story there will be prob adult themes so I’ll kindly ask minors not to interact with this post :)

Enjoy now I guess, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language (+ I wrote this sleep deprived) ; if you notice any spelling or grammar mistake, you’re welcome to let me know in an indulgent way in the comments. Any other kind of criticism, as long as worded kindly, is also very much welcomed!

TW : mention of death and loosing a relative

Lara Croft finds out about the passionate but gut wrenching love story her mother had with another woman in her youth : in her quest for informations, she confronts herself to what remains of this love story, and what could ensue of it. 

Or

What happens when the girl who wants to know more meets the girl who wants to forget ? 

Lara pushed the wooden panel still decorated by her own mother’s hand. The intricate scrolls of vegetation were faded in some places, the colours used had lost a bit of their brightness, but the spirit of Amelia Croft’s creativity and skills was still present. In fact, the whole room Lara was about to enter was still and always impregnated with the aura of the mourned and regretted mother and artist. That is probably why it was one of the first rooms the archaeologist was inclined to check after her return to the Croft Manor. 

3 weeks ago, she was done helping the people of Paititi in the Peruvian jungle rebuild and comfort their community. After days upon days  of giving more than a hand to the Mayan inhabitants, making amend, no, begging for salvation after all the wrongs she had caused, the call to home had finally hailed her. She had found her peace, somehow, seeing as the people of Paititi weren’t as resorting towards her as she was towards her own self. It had always been a wonder, how the people around her were not absolutely despising her after all the bad omens that had followed after her person. 

How could Jonah still be an infallible friend and partner after everything he has had to face because of her ? How could Joslin still speak to her after her daughter’s dad had been killed trying to protect her ? How had Sofia not shot an arrow between her eyes after witnessing her father die and the blood of so many of her people being spilled ? How could Unuratu’s people be so subservient towards her after what she had done ? 

The only time when shit seemed to have come back at her was when she had at last been forbidden from seeing Sam. There was not a week during which she didn’t think about her, about the brightness she brought to any room she entered, about the glow that used to dance in her eyes, about the softness that would envelop her skin, about the feeling of her arms wrapped around Lara’s waist. The vivid memories of times spent with what had probably been her first love, was probably the punition Lara was seeking every moment of her cursed life. The sinfulness of her existence could be purified by the aching provoked by her lover’s souvenir, and the feeling she had lost forever a part of herself. 

But today, Lara had decided to torture herself with the souvenir of another person. As she took some steps into the sunlit room, the wood under her life long partner rider boots cracked, and the floating dust twirled around her figure. Nothing had moved since the last time she had come here. This part of the house, much like the rest in fact, had been stilled, frozen into time, not as if its objects and furniture were waiting for their users to return, much like if the whole setting constituted some sort of mausoleum to the deceased that were once owners of this place. 

In this mausoleum of the matriarch, Lara was ready to bend and bow at the relics, reminders of the past, beholders of present nostalgia. So she stepped further, and let her eyes glide over the surface of the walls, of the tables, over the dryness of the paint buckets, the stillness of the brushes neatly stacked in clear goblets, or negligently sprawled on the floor. Her heart squeezed tightly when her gaze fell onto the unfinished canvas throning on its easel. A scenery, a lavender field in the french Provence, in the middle of which the faint silhouette of a woman holding down her hat could be deciphered, had been left incomplete by Amelia. 

Lara remembered what had pushed her mother to depict this specific landscape. It was some days after her mom and dad’s dispute, to which, unbeknownst to them, she had assisted, hiding behind the door of the office. Her mother needed to decompress, and found herself in her shed to practice her art in its most meditating form. But here she had been struggling to find inspiration, the conflict with her husband clouding her mind. That is when Lara had mentioned missing the sights of the southeastern french region of Provence, to which she wished to return soon. 

After her mother’s death, Lara never returned to Provence. She never got to see once again the azur blue sky, feel the wind as it brushes under a woman’s hat, smell the lavender fields her mom had been trying to captivate in her last moments. 

After some time freezing on the spot at the sight of the canvas, Lara decided to redirect her attention towards something else. The wardrobe. The same pastel green patterns of the room’s door were adorning the wooden structure of the piece of furniture. Lara pushed the clappers open, her eyes roaming its interior ; various objects were sitting on the different shelves, mainly paint brushes in other glass goblets, boxes full of paint tubes, argile statues deprived of any polychromy, some créations little Lara had made on her own. Her eyes settled for a wooden box littered with childlike drawings made of striking colours and her hand reached for the top shelf on which it had been sitting for years. 

After sitting legs crossed on the floor in front of the wardrobe, she opened the box delicately and instantly started smiling. In there were preciously conserved sketches, simple drawings that yet held bits of the Croft family’s intimacy. Pencil drawings of a chubby baby Lara smiling ear to ear, Richard reading a book to his daughter sitting on his knees, Amelia teaching her little girl how to paint… A time in which comfort seemed granted. A time in which emptiness and longing were unknown feelings to Lara. 

As her mind and heart yet again mingled with sorrow, her ruffling stopped at the drawing of a singular person. Her hand held onto the paper displaying the traits of a woman in her early 20s, a beautiful woman at that, but that she failed to recall. She must have missed the drawing during her precedent scorching, because such beauty in a woman’s face would have easily been remembered by the archaeologist. After some more contemplating, she flipped through the rest of the drawings, stumbling in the same time upon some of her own attempts of creation that her mother had kept as treasures. She finally put everything back in the box before closing it and getting up to stack it back right where she had lifted it. 

But when trying to push it in the back of the shelf in order to ensure its safety, she felt the box bumping against something hard. Intrigued, she tried to check what was constituting the obstacle, but found herself not tall enough to get a good view. Placing the drawing box upon a nearby table, she took a chair and climbed on it. Now she could see that there was nothing else than an other box sitting in the back, one she had never seen before. 

Gliding the box over to herself, she then picked it up to get a better look at it. Upon sitting it on the table, she noticed there was a lock to it, but unfortunately, no key in sight. She quickly looked around, scanning the room for any object that would be of help in her situation. She finally settled for some sculpting tool, a steel linear object with a pointing end that could easily be inserted in the little hole. After some seconds of struggle, Lara could hear the clicking sound of the interior mechanism giving up, granting her access to the content of this mysterious box. 

The felted inside revealed itself to be full of letters, written in a style that she didn’t recognise as her mother’s or father’s handwriting. She picked up the first paper, and unfolding it, started reading. 

“My dear Amelia, 

I saw you at the bar the other night. I saw you sitting right in the middle, legs crossed, chest proud, eyes piercing but oh so charming. There was only you for me, in this room, and I like to believe there was only me, too, in your own irises. My voice that evening, I hope, carried itself to your ear in order to let it hear the whisper of affection and longing. My melody, I wish, wrapped your heart in the most tender embrace. My words, I pray, have led your soul into a waltz into which each step is the remembrance of a dead poet. 

After the show, that night, your face has filled my dreams the same way my voice had filled the room. But I did not remember the clapping, the applauding, the whistling. All I could recall was how your eyes held onto my lips like the roses hold onto that morning mist. And what a rose you are to the world, what a bloom you are to me. 

Your last letter has lingered on me like a winter fur. Warm and reassuring, it’s all that keeps me from deflating by your absence on my side. Because you are like the sun to my harsh winter, only your rays can melt away the frost that the world impend on me every day. I get weary of anything foreigner to your sensuality. 

You can join me in my dorm by 9pm this Friday, where my eyes will survey the movement of the  clock sting, waiting for time to bring your physical envelope to my arms, as you know how your heart already and forever lies in mine. 

With deep and devouring love, Gabrielle.” 

Lara stayed still, frozen for the third time in a single hour. Her brain was processing what she had just read, her psyche fighting to accept the words that had been put under her eyes. Gabrielle… who was this Gabrielle ? When had she written and sent that ? Why was there so much passion in the way she spoke to her mother ? Clearly if the letter had been kept so meticulously in such a box, it must have meant a lot for the latter. 

Lara’s heart race fastened at those thoughts, her mind racing, questions fusing. Frantically she grabbed handfuls of letters and sprawled them onto the table surface, her eyes feverishly jumping from one piece of paper to the other, not knowing which one to pick next. There must have been at least 3 dozens of letters in this box, but upon emptying it, Lara’s eyes stopped on pictures stacked at the bottom. 

The first few ones were of a woman singing in a café displaying a 1920s look, a “année folle” aesthetic. Despite the picture’s quality not being the best, Lara could clearly spot a striking resemblance with the woman in the sketching. She flipped through the other pictures, where she could observe the woman’s trait more clearly, the latter being shot in different settings, at different moments, in different lights and angles. All of those pictures were showing a beautiful woman in her 20s, a captivating look in her eyes, and an almost bewitching smile adorning her face from time to time. 

And then, a vision that made Lara’s heart skip a beat. A picture of the same woman laying on her mother’s thighs in a minimalistic bedroom, the first looking up to the other looking down at her, both holding hands, both adorning a tender full and fiery expression for the other.  

Lara spent minutes observing the picture, her brows lightly furrowed, her stomach in knots, a strange sensation in her chest. She took the chair, put it back before the table and sat on it. She rested her back onto it, flipped the glossy paper to read at its back “I wish this moment had last forever, just you and me in this room, without the struggles of the outside” which was, this time, of her mother’s writing. Lara straightened her back and starting flipping the other pictures to spot any other indications and left messages. Behind one of the pictures of the woman singing in the bar, there was written “her voice like silk, her movement like water, her body like a dancing flame. She’s my angel.” 

A tear rolled down Lara’s cheek. What was all this about ? Why hasn’t she never heard of this ? How come her mother had experienced the same thing Lara had felt so shameful of in all her teenage years ? Had her father known about this ? And who was this woman her mother had loved so fiercely ? 

The curious spirit of Lara and her palpable need to know more about her lost mother drove her to spend the rest of the day into reading more of the letters, decipher all the pictures and try to find hints of this past love story in her mother’s art laying around the shed, attempting to reconstitute a puzzle to which half of the pieces were missing… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I need to find my ao3 password and stuff back so I can publish it on there. In the meantime, here some kind reminders :

🍉Keep getting informed on the situation in Gaza (Palestinian genocide) and share the story of unfortunate endangered families. 

🇨🇩If you can, donate to charities for Congo so that shelters can be built for families and especially women and children fleeing exploitation, mass murder, and SA.

🕊️Keep your eyes on countries which are currently suffering from imperialism such as Ukraine, Georgia, Armenia, Kanaky (New-Caledonia).

💙Boycott fast fashion brands like Shein (just one example) to protest against the exploitation of endangered ethnic groups in China. 🌧️Last but not least, stay HYDRATED, the world needs healthy activists ! ♥️

Happy pride to all also :)

[my-little-random-world]

Marta: Jaime! Jaime! For God's sake, Jaime! Jaime, are you okay? My God, I thought you were—Jaime. Can you? No, slowly, slowly, slowly. My God! Try to sit up. What happened?

Jaime: I was talking to Jesús, I got very upset, and he left. I guess I lost consciousness.

Marta: Breathe, breathe. This can’t go on like this.

Jaime: No, Marta, everything is fine. It was just a dizzy spell.

Marta: It's not fine! This situation is unsustainable.

Jaime: Marta, I don’t want to talk about this, please.

Marta: I know you're scared. But precisely because of that, the others need to know.

Jaime: Marta, no, please.

Marta: Do you realize the burden you're carrying by keeping a secret like this, or how terrified I’ve been since I found out you're sick? I can’t be the only one who knows what's happening to you. The sooner the rest know, the better it will be for everyone.

Jaime: Not for me. They’ll start looking at me like a dying man.

Marta: Jaime, look at me. You know how dangerous it is to pretend nothing’s happening, both here and in the clinic where you have lives in your hands.

Jaime: You too with that, please. I already have enough with Luz.

Marta: This could happen to you anywhere, anytime.

Jaime: Are you really asking me to stop practicing? I thought you would understand?

Marta: I don't want to be harsh with you, but you're not leaving me any choice. If you were a patient, would you want to be in the hands of someone who could lose consciousness at any moment?

Jaime: Marta, I can’t! If I’m not a doctor, I’m nothing.

Marta: You're my husband, remember?

Jaime: Don’t tell anyone, please.

Marta: I already have.

Jaime: Fina?

Marta: Who else?

Jaime: And why did you do it?

Marta: Because I needed her to understand why I can't go with her to Barcelona.

Jaime: What do you mean you’re not going to Barcelona?

Marta: We may not have had a perfect marriage or been in love, but we’ve always been companions and friends. I’m not going to leave you alone.

Jaime: Marta, no, no, you can’t throw your life away because of me, please. I couldn’t bear it.

Marta: I can still decide some things freely. And nothing you say will change my mind.

Jaime: You’re making a mistake.

Marta: My biggest mistake was accepting your conditions and keeping quiet in front of everyone. Tomorrow, we’ll tell the family that you’re sick.

Jaime: And how will our life be then? What are we going to do?

Marta: Take care of you and let others take care of you.

Jaime: As if I were a poor...

Marta: A great man, which is what you are: intelligent, generous, and very handsome. Even though it may seem frivolous to say so now. We need to face the truth as soon as possible.

Jaime: I’m scared.

Marta: I know. I’m terrified. But to deal with it, we have to be able to talk about it. And I’ll be by your side.

—NEXT SCENE—

Marta: And Andrés?

Don Damián: That’s what I say—Andrés?

Andrés: I’m here, sorry. So, what’s going on?

Marta: We need to tell you something.

Jesús: Yes, we already guessed that, Marta, but what?

Marta: Could you be a little patient for once in your life?

Andrés: Don't mind him, Marta.

Jesús: Marta, do you want to say something to me? Have you gathered everyone to argue with me, is that it?

Jaime: We’ve gathered because I’m dying.

Andrés: What?

Don Damián: What are you saying, Jaime?

Jaime: I have a tumor in my head.

Andrés: My God, Jaime.

Jesús: How long have you known?

Jaime: I’ve been seeing a neurologist for a few months. I’ve had vision problems, severe headaches, fainting spells.

Marta: They ran tests until they discovered the source of it all.

Don Damián: Alright, what treatment do you need? We’ll do whatever it takes to take care of your illness. Sometimes these tumors are caught early and...

Jaime: Damián, it’s incurable.

Marta: It’s confirmed. The tumor is inoperable, Father. There’s nothing to be done.

Andrés: Jaime...

Jaime: No, Andrés, it’s all right. Don’t worry.

Andrés: I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.

Jesús: How much time have they given you?

Jaime: Not much. It’s hard to say for sure, but it won’t be long.

Don Damián: We’ll get a second opinion. We’re not giving up so easily. You know you have the support of the whole family.

Jaime: Damián, as you can imagine, I’ve already consulted the best specialists.

Don Damián: And?

Marta: There’s nothing to be done. We have to accept the reality, no matter how hard it is.

Don Damián: I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry, son. Life is unfair, damn it.

Begoña: Julia? Guys, have you seen Julia? I can’t find her.

Jesús: What do you mean you can’t find her?

Begoña: Well, she’s not at home. I’ve been looking for her everywhere for half an hour.

Jesús: Have you checked upstairs in the attic?

Begoña: I just told you I’ve looked everywhere, Jesús!

Don Damián: Calm down, please! She has to be somewhere.

Begoña: And if she’s run away?

Marta: You think so?

Jesús: We should all look for her. Everyone search a different area. Let’s go.

Begoña: Is something wrong?

Jaime: Let’s go look for the little one.

Don Damián: I’ll get the dog.

[coco-bee]

COCO'S REVIEW: BLUE'S STORY

Welcome to Coco’s Review! Where I review and breakdown episodes, movies and etc and overthink every tiny detail and/or give my thoughts and opinions :D !! THE STORY I’M ABOUT TO DISCUSS HAS TOPICS ABOUT S/A AND OTHER DISTURBING TOPICS PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION !! Ok so this may not be something you’d expect me to cover but I wanted to discuss this series on my blog for a while now! Today I’m discussing Blue’s Story by Victaton!

Blue’s Story is a series by Victaton over on youtube that mixes gacha life 2 character designs along with animation. I like to think of the gl2 designs as character models and Victation expands on it through animation. The series doesn’t have proper episodes, its installments mainly continue music videos that go in a specific order. The story is about Blue, a man in his early 20s entering the company his older sister works in with a positive attitude only for it to fade away as a lot of women in his new job want to get in his pants and cause irreversible trauma on the poor guy. This series is meant to show how abuse in the workplace can happen and how s/a can be done anywhere and by anyone. It seems to be a response to the misconceptions of how men who are preyed on by women are not valid victims of s/a and how they should’ve enjoyed it or that only women can be victims (which is never true). Though keep in mind I’m not qualified to determine if the way the story conveys s/a and just abuse in general is shown accurately because I have not had these experiences myself but my heart goes out to the victims in the world who could resonate with Blue’s Story and I wish for nothing but happiness and peace for you guys. You all are very strong and deserved much better<3

I can tell Victation really touched people’s hearts and according to some people in the comments who are victims the story is pretty accurate to some experiences and some research has been put in this series which I heavily appreciate. So I’m happy people can feel seen with this!

So with this series I want to start off light and mention the animation- AND MY GOODNESS DOES THIS SERIES HAVE AMAZING ANIMATION!

I really love this art style that Vic has going on here

Like I said the gl2 designs seem to make the base and Vic uses their art skills to expand on it It really gives a dynamic feeling and you can hardly tell it’s gacha

Vic has a lot of dynamic poses and a great understanding of body language with these!

AND THE EXPRESSIONS<33 I LOVE THE WAY VIC DRAWS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS! IM SUCH A SUCKER FOR VERY EXAGGERATED AND STYLIZED FACES

And I’m not even showing the best parts! But I want to keep it as a surprise for those who are interested in watching the series. I just couldn’t stop praising the visuals enough! Vic is the most experimental gachatuber I’ve seen when it comes to the visuals!! I hope to talk with them sometime to get some tips or to post how their creative process works because THE ART IS SO GOOODDDDD! AND THE CHARACTER DESIGNS RADIATE SM PERSONALITY AND ADD TO THE SYMBOLISM AND UNDERTONES OF THE STORY! It’s so fun to see :D and the color associations are a very interesting character design choice! It helps add a very colorful look to what is otherwise a very heavy story and makes it very easy to distinguish the characters and give them certain color motifs. Anyway I want to talk about the characters in Blue’s Story! Mostly by order of their debut! And I’ll only talking abt the characters that have a big impact on Blue (So I won’t be talking abt Magenta or her brother) and the ones that don’t have a definite character (So the red eye people won’t be mentioned) Anyway now that that’s established the character I want to talk about first is well- Blue himself! After All this is his perspective we’re following

Also quick appreciation for the silly little Blues that Vic draws<3 Anyway Blue is the most interesting character I’ve seen in a gacha series. I like how Vic doesn’t use Blue as a representation or a role model for victims to take after but a person who goes through his own stories and has room to be human. You can see his descent in his own trauma and self loathing in his story. Which leads him to make mistakes and have a difficult time navigating his relationships and how to make meaningful connections. Seeing him go from confident and upbeat to quiet and reserved is so heartbreaking. What I find so great about Blue is that not everyone can relate to his situation but his thought process is near universal. I can relate to having to be in survival mode when it comes to relationships after being done dirty by different people. Not to mention people would do the same things Blue did, they just went through different experiences. It’s a really great touch to the writing. What’s also interesting I find about Blue are these different personas of different ways he handles the trauma caused by all these women.

This is sorta a mix of my interpretation of what these versions of Blue are plus what Vic actually calls them From left to right 1.Hypersexual Blue (confirmed) 2.Heart Eyes Blue (confirmed) 3. Reality Blue (not confirmed) 4. Cyan Blue (confirmed) 5. Numb Blue (not confirmed) I’ll expand more on these personas when I do a character study on Blue (which is something I REALLY wanna do sometime)

Next up is Pink Who is the first character we meet when Vic started this series

Pink is a married woman around Blue’s age who he engages in an affair with. And one of the women Blue has a significant relationship with throughout the series since Pink was the first one in the workplace to have her way with Blue. A truly manipulative bitch 💀 I don’t have much to say about her because Vic themself made a video discussing the women in Blue’s life and their thought process on writing them(?). So I’ll just give my thoughts! Pink is a very interesting case of the “Abused to Abuser” situation and not to mention how she’s not one dimensional. She’s an abuser to Blue but also a victim to a different man. (her husband) There are scenes where she is being a nice person (highlighted with her scenes with Lilac) but what’s preventing her from being good is her philosophy of how men cannot be victims. How could they be? To her the most heartless person she knows is a man, while it’s close minded, it’s understandable but not excusable why she perceives men this way. Which I find very interesting! There’s also a cool animation choice with her lipstick color! Her lips are white when she’s doing nice things or is not perceived as a bad person, then grey when it’s more neutral (I think) and finally black when she harms Blue. Hence why her kiss marks start from white to black.

What’s also interesting is that Blue pursues her first! Since he started out so confident and upbeat he wanted to try and shoot his shot with an attractive woman. But backs off when he learns that she’s married, but things didn’t go as planned. But I find it very interesting how that’s how things started. Next we have Purple who is the CEO or just the boss of the company Blue works in

Purple imo is definitely the most uncomfortable character to watch (what am I saying ALL the abusers make things uncomfortable to watch) but Purple just gives me a chill up my spine. Especially with her design, it has been confirmed by Vic that Purple is in her 40s and would prey on much younger people. First she attempted to prey on Red (who is confirmed to be 19), but was unsuccessful then went after Blue, and was successful.

Not to mention she’s very inconsiderate of her workers, example in the second part of “Baby Hotline”.

Up next we have Red! Who is my personal favorite in terms of how she is written and her design! (I do not condone her actions)

I love how Vic went for a more cutesy innocent look for Red!

But not without giving her sharp black nails to show how harmful she is

It really nails the message home on how anyone can be an abuser no matter how they look like. I also want to appreciate her little heart eye effect that Vic does with her that’s constantly looping like HOW DOES VIC DO IT- IT LOOKS SO DIFFICULT TO PULL OFF- I’m guessing it’s green screen With Red she is an obsessive stalker who has feelings for Blue and is constantly pursuing him even if he doesn’t return the feelings. It starts off as an innocent crush but turns into something more harmful. I don’t have much to say that’s not been said by Vic on their video. I just really want to appreciate how well designed she is and I rly like the heart motif she has. You can tell she’s a naive girl who can’t understand how harmful she is. I’ve met someone who was my equivalent to Red and while thankfully I had people who managed to protect me, doesn’t mean the harm did not get to me. While they were not as intense and Red, I was still being harassed verbally and I just didn’t feel safe. ALSO HOW DOES VIC DO HER HEART EYE EFFECT I NEED ANSWERS Now we have Lavender who is Blue’s SISTER

YEAH THATS RIGHT- SHE IS BLUE’S SISTER And I swear everytime I see her I just want to punch her in the goddamn face and wipe that stupid smile off her face- Lavender is an example of non-physical s/a and incest with how she had sexual thoughts about Blue and would show it through more subtle actions. Not to mention she’s also a bystander to Blue being abused by other women and doesn’t do ANYTHING about it. As an older sister myself with my own little brother- Lavender ENRAGES ME! I could never imagine doing what she did to my own brother. He drives me crazy but I’d protect him no matter what. What is fascinating about her design is definitely how her eyes are constantly closed, as if she’s turning a blind eye to the harm Blue is a victim of and/or how she’s hiding so many things. Especially with how she only opens her eyes when she’s preying on Blue.

SHE'S JUST AS TERRIFYING AS PURPLE Lastly we have Lilac! Who debuts in the same video as Lavender

WHO IS THE ONE PERSON THAT DOESN’T TREAT BLUE LIKE SHIT She’s a very fun character! She’s a single mom who works in the same company as Blue. She has a lot more significance in later installments so I won’t spoil but I just love her<3 She’s so sweet I just can’t- it’s such a breath of fresh air compared to the toxic waste Blue’s been getting from the other women. Her relationship with Blue is so interesting to watch and I am just rooting for them to at least stay friends.

(Also she looks so pretty here) AND THAT’S ALL THE CHARACTERS!!

Overall I really enjoy this series but I do have some gripes with it. The pace is definitely a bit much- so much can be happening in a span of a few mins. And there are stories that could rly benefit a longer time limit. This problem comes up most with “Baby Hotline” where I hardly understood what was happening. Like I got the gist but I didn’t get the specifics. It can be difficult to keep up with. So yeah the series could work with a longer timeframe- “Sweet Little Bumblebee'' is a great example! Not everything is too fast and everything makes more sense while “Baby Hotline” tried cramming a lot in one minute. Well the first part of ot, the second part of “Baby Hotline” was at a much better pace in my opinion but still a bit hard to keep up with at first.

Anyway in conclusion! Blue’s Story is a really interesting story that deserves the recognition it gets and is worth your time if you are into really deep stories with heavy subjects!

(Credit to Vitaton for all the art presented) This is Coco typing.. Thank you for reading!

[dumplingsjinson]

I haven't seen many bodyguard type of prompts so...may I ask for one?

List of “so now I apparently have someone who’s supposed to protect me because I’m incapable of protecting myself” prompts

“I’ll protect you, I swear.” “Well, you’d better, because you’re not getting paid if I die.” 

“Now, why would they hire you as my bodyguard? You look like you’d break in half if someone so much as kicked you.” “Well, my blackbelt says otherwise.” 

“You have a soft spot for me, don’t you?” “I don’t.” “You answered too quickly for that to be the truth.”

“I didn’t realise you were this soft.” “I’m not soft.” “Sure, keep lying to yourself then.” 

“Don’t fucking die on me, I swear to God!” “…It’s literally a paper cut, I’m fine.” “Yeah, but— but a paper cut can still cause life threatening complications!” 

“People think you’re scary but really, you’re just a soft marshmallow, all soft and mushy on the inside and burnt on the outside.” “…Are you comparing me to a roasted marshmallow?” 

“I didn’t ask for you to protect me! I didn’t— I didn’t ask for any of this.” 

“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me anymore, so I’m firing you. You’ll no longer work for me.” “That’s not for you to decide. I’m staying right here until I’m absolutely sure you’ll be okay.” “…Why the hell do you have to be so stubborn? What part of I don’t want you getting hurt don’t you understand?!” 

“I think you can use those strong arms of yours to do plenty of other things with me, if you catch my drift.” 

“You’re paid to care about me, let’s not forget that, so don’t overstep your boundaries.” 

“I asked you to teach me how to defend myself, but how the fuck did we end up in this very weird and very compromising position and most important of all, why do I kind of like it?”

“Why the fuck are they standing in the room while we’re trying to get it on?” “Well, they’re… They’re supposed to be there to protect me so I can’t do much about it.” “What, so they’re just gonna watch us fuck?”

“You know you don’t have to keep watch over me all the time, right? Especially when I’m about to go to town with someone.” “They might end up harming you for all I know; I’m not risking it.”

“Just admit it: you’re jealous because I’m out here fucking around with other people and you don’t want that to happen.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I said get out of the way! What are you doing?!” “I can’t let you get hurt.” “And I can’t let you get hurt, either!”

“My job is to protect you so if you think I’m doing this because I care then you’re wrong.” “Don’t— you don’t mean that.” 

“You’re like, the only friend I have, even though you’re paid to be here. So, please don’t leave…”

“It’s not about the money anymore. It’s because I fucking care about you. So please, don’t tell me to leave, and please don’t tell me to not get hurt because I won’t be able to bear it if you’re the one who gets hurt.” 

“Why do you care, anyway?” “Because I’m kind of paid to do so and if I don’t, then I lose my job? And your family pays well, so…”

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way as I do.” “…I’m not supposed to feel the same way as you do.” 

“What are you doing?! Put me down!” “Not until you promise me you won’t run away again.” 

“Fuck! Why’d you kick me?! I was literally just injured—” “Don’t you fucking do that again, you asshole!” “But it’s my job—” “I don’t care, just stop getting injured because of me! How are you supposed to protect me if this keeps happening?!” “But that’s the point of what I do. It’s why I’m even here in the first place.” 

“I leave for five seconds and you end up in the hospital. Are you kidding me?” “Look, I thought I could climb that tree to save that poor kitten. I’ll have you know I was an agile kid back then!” “…My God, what am I going to do with you?” 

“I swear if you actually die—” “Relax, it’s just a bullet to the leg. I’ll survive.” “You idiot—”

“You’re stressing me the hell out and I’ve only been doing this for a week.” 

“How stupid are you?! You could have died!” “…Are you yelling at me right now?” “Only because I’m worried about you.” “Since when did you ever worry about me?” “Since the very fucking start, that’s when.” 

“Can you pretend to value your life for one goddamned second so I don’t have to constantly worry about you?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” “I’m tired. Can’t you piggyback me?” “No.” …. “You can never say no to me, can you?” “Shut up.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone while I’m fucking crying?!” “…I’ve a feeling that’s the exact opposite of what you want.”

“God, why don’t you ever listen to me? Stay. Don’t go.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’ve never learned to ask for things nicely?”

“It was the danger of the situation which caused a sudden rush of adrenaline which caused me to kiss you so it didn’t actually mean anything!”

“I’m grateful to you for protecting me but I also want you to take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Fuck, wake up— I told you not to die for me—”

“…That goes beyond what a usual bodyguard would do and I think you’re well aware of that.”

“You sometimes make me feel like a damned babysitter.”

“You were hired to watch over me. You do realise that, right? So I want you to keep your eyes on me at all times.” 

“You’re always so gentle with me. Why? Do you think I’m that fragile?” 

“Since you’re responsible for my life anyway, why not become responsible for me as a whole?”

“Are we going to pretend like you didn’t confess to me because you thought I was dying?” “Well, you ended up okay so it doesn’t count. People say stupid things when they’re panicking.” 

“Why are you straddling me?” “Because I’m practicing self-defence?” “I can easily throw you off of me. You know that, right?” “But I know you wouldn’t.”

“You know I like it rough, right?” “…Excuse me?” “Well, considering the position we’re in, I think we can take advantage of that, no?” 

“This is strictly a client-customer relationship.” “That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“Your clumsiness is your biggest enemy at this point.” “I’m not that clumsy!” “This is the third time you’ve injured yourself this week.”

“Really, what are you going to do without me here, making sure you don’t accidentally knock yourself out?” 

“You want me to stay?” “Just… For tonight. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You make me worry for everyone else’s safety.” 

“Can’t you stay?” “My job here is done. There’s no reason for me to stay—” “Not even for me?” 

“You need to let loose a little. Look at you! You’re so tense! How can you live like that?” … “Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t let loose too much. Lesson learned.” 

“You’re scaring everyone away!” “Well, it’s good to know I’m a natural threat eliminator.” 

“You were hurt because of me.” “As long as you’re safe then it doesn’t matter what happens to me.” 

“…I get you’re trying to take care of me but have you considered leaving me alone? I think I can recover quicker that way.” “But you nearly died protecting—” “I think I might actually die if I have to eat one more meal made by you.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this.” 

“You’re going to be the death of me and I mean that literally.” 

“I don’t need you.” “What happened just then proves you otherwise.” 

“You did not have to hit them that hard. They weren’t even a threat!” “You didn’t seem comfortable talking to them so I had to do something about it. It’s in my job description.” 

“How about I be your bodyguard for one day? Like, a role reversal thing?” “Not if I want us both to stay alive.” 

“Wait, why are you leaving?” “Because you’re about to change and I’m not going to stand around watching that happen.” “What if someone climbs through the window and tries to kill me? Will you take responsibility for that?”

”If you really do think of me as just your cliental or whatever the fuck you want to call me then there was no reason for you to kiss me that hard back there.”

“If you’re the one who protects me, then who’s going to protect you?” “I don’t need protecting, unlike some people. For one, I don’t trip over thin air on a daily basis.” “…You know what? Fuck you.” 

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Your sick little head, so brain damaged and lying in that hospital bed.

This art means a lot to me. It isn’t as rendered or polished as my other work, but I want it to look scrappy, messy, and still pretty. If you’d like to just read about the style and story of the art unrelated to myself, feel free to skip this section.

Last week I mentioned being in the hospital and the psych ward, and while I wont give extreme details, it was for an overdose. Recently after getting out I’ve been trying to act like nothing happened and it’s all going to go back to normal, but this is the 3rd time I’ve done it or been on the edge of it. Just last week I had to get rid of two of my cats just after I’d been discharged and that on top of the trauma of the whole situation I’ve just felt strangely empty. Overdoses don’t just come and go like that. The mental effects aside from whatever you took linger and hurt more than anything. “I’m doing better” really just means I’m not about to do it again, but those feelings are still stored somewhere deep inside me. For this specific piece I wanted to describe that feeling and wonder of “How would anyone feel if they found me? What will they do after?”

People don’t talk about Molly nearly as much as I think they should, but it’s understandable given that she has no set substance yet. For that reason I have made my own. The biggest thing I’ve mentioned before—in my Angel Dust headcanon post—is that I believe Molly is the one that found Anthony after he overdosed and called 911. The rest of his family was likely a bit worried, but I don’t think any of them cared as much as she did. Another headcanon of mine is that Anthony and Molly had matching rings with “AN” & “MO” engraved onto them. Molly sold her ring to pay for Anthonys funeral after his passing in the hospital and now wears Anthonys as replacement on her index finger which she eventually takes to heaven with her.

I don’t imagine she was able to visit him very often while he was in a coma but she still did when she could and would talk to him in hopes he could hear her a little bit before he left. It’d take a bit of a tangent but when sinners enter hell, in my mind entering hell takes as long as it did to die. So for Anthony it likely took him a week to a month to die during his coma from complications, and in turn, it took that same amount of time for him to full wake up in hell. Sinners to me are made and formed out of the ground in hell and wake up in a similar location to where they died. Angel Dust would’ve woken up alone in a hospital while his sister was now left alone and Anthony’s body likely already buried by then.

These are reasons why I included forget-me-nots and sweet peas as taped on decals. Their meanings being “Please don’t forget me” and “Goodbye, thank you for a wonderful time.” respectively. I also added the “M” wax seal over one of the sweet peas because I feel that it’s a sentiment that Molly held close to her heart and still does.

Molly’s body is torn from pink paper while Angel’s is blue paper. I intended for these to somewhat be seen as hands, like how the pink paper wraps over the forget-me-not when the blue paper lays beneath it to show Molly’s attempt to hold onto the memory of her brother while Angel is trying to remember his own life yet is unaware of what is happening to his sister now; unaware if she’s alive or not due to his poor keeping of time. Angel is also a scrap of paper glued above Molly’s hands to pretty genuinely symbolise they’re both in different dimensions now and can’t fully be apart of the same without the help of an external force. I also wanted to include more jumping spider elements so I’d like to think the string holding the tears is silk. Jumping spiders leave silk behind incase they fall so they can climb back up and when you put that in the form of a mentality I think Molly would fit into that very well.

I really hope we see more of Molly and I hope she had a good life and can see her brother again. Of course, she is a fictional character, but I can’t imagine the trauma she’s experienced in her life even without my personal headcanons. I love Molly a lot and just from how I personally interpret her she reminds me a lot of my mother.

Hopefully you can enjoy my ramblings and craze about these funny little spiders. 🩷

[monstersinthecosmos]

I know you probably don’t want to dwell on the show and the negative but I absolutely hate what has happened on here and how hateful people are in the VC fandom it’s just very demoralizing and makes me want to retreat from anything besides the books completely. The discourse was spicy before the show but everything is just even more divisive now and it has sucked the fun out of it. Not really an ask more of a vent sorry

Hi there!

You’re correct that I don’t particularly find it fun to dwell on the negative stuff – as you said yourself, SOMETIMES THE DISCOURSE SUCKS THE FUN OUT OF IT. But I do understand how you feel and I want to say a couple things and I hope this helps you find a groove.

First of all, I did my best not to acknowledge it too much because I didn’t want to validate the folks who were being cunts to me lol, but please know that this fandom (at least on Tumblr) has ALWAYS been kinda fucking violent towards me LOL. I started VC tumbling back in 2016 and it’s ALWAYS been a fucking trash fire. It is hard out there for Marius stans lmfao.

Like, when I was first posting on Tumblr and acclimating to the Tumblr culture it was so much of like, me feeling brave enough to share meta only for someone to be RB’ing me to tell me I’m wrong, or me talking about how much I liked something about Marius only for someone to vague me, or it was me hosting the huge fandom Discord back in 2017 only for people to then come on tumblr and complain about how the Discord was way too Marius Friendly as if like, a drama-free space where we can discuss the books makes it a harbor for predators.

Of course I also had the gaggle of fucking morons who were constantly stalking me, catfishing their way into my servers to try to take screenshots and write call outs and cancel me, who would not stop preaching about how “all these big blogs” are “actually such terrible people” because “look at the things they ship” even when I’d never been unkind to them, even occasionally donated to their GFMs. These are folks who think they’re morally in the right for protecting the virtue of Armand’s poor teenage asshole and executed this justice by stalking and harassing an ACTUAL PERSON LOL. Like, listen. I’m sorry to burst ur bubble, but Armand doesn’t exist. He’s letters on a paper. I’m actually a real person and you’re up my fucking ass because I don’t’ even fucking know why, you’re jealous of my fucking Tumblr engagement or something? Which one of us is actually the creep here lol?? Is this a race to the bottom to be the valedictorian of clown school on the website for homeschooled clowns?

I’ve also had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of acephobic discourse, being told I don’t do enough to protect every individual in fandom from their own bullies as if it's my job to do that, being called ableist for how I wrote Daniel in my fics even though I was projecting and discussing my own personal experiences – I’ve also had a project collaborator have a tantrum and try to steal my work until I had to threaten with legal action, I’ve been put on block lists, I’ve had many people consume my fics in secret without actually leaving comments because I’m too toxic for them to communicate with in public.

BLAH BLAH BLAH.

This was all before AMC showed up LMFAO. It was not easy for me! It’s still not always easy!

And so yeah like, by nature of the fandom EXPLODING we are going to see more drama. More people is more drama. The nature of the discourse often hedges into real life issues that people are very opinionated and passionate about and there are conflicting needs inside the same space about how to hold conversations. Even just the other day I RB’d a joke about Anne Rice and OP got upset with me because they didn’t want actual fans interacting with it. Whoops! I didn’t know! I just thought it was funny. ;.;  

Even in good faith and with the best of intentions we’re going to step on each other’s toes, and we’re gonna find people we don’t vibe with. And that’s normal and it’s fine.

What ISN’T normal is this inability to disengage that I think we see often in online space, and I don’t want to get into a whole side essay about all the reasons why I think that happens. But sometimes you gotta be the bigger person and take it on the chin.

Like, yeah, it sucks. It sucks the fun out of the room when you share a space with such bitter people who can’t be kind to each other. But like. THAT’S A THEM PROBLEM, YOU KNOW? And I think we gotta remember that sometimes people like that do it for the attention or the spike of dopamine when they can pick a fight and honestly like, you don’t need to waste YOUR OWN time on it, but you’re also doing that person a kindness if you don’t enable the bad behavior.

And it sucks that Tumblr’s mute tools are awful!!!!! It would make navigating so much easier to be able to curate the dash a little better and keep the bad actors out of your space. I sometimes just fuck off and don’t even come online for days if I know I’m not in a good headspace and won’t have the strength to just fucking ignore it, because sometimes drama catches my eye and I get nosy and go down the rabbit hole, too – having ADHD makes it really hard to avoid sometimes LOL – but like I try to be reasonable and love myself enough to avoid it when I can help it. I’m not willing to make my own problems everyone else’s problem, and I hope that some of these shit starters in fandom will get there, themselves.

So yeah it blows when the vibes are fucking atrocious, and it REALLY blows when it’s a fandom this small where you can’t avoid it. Even when it’s a vocal minority it really just kills the fucking mood.

BUT WHAT I WILL SAY.

Whenever I say shit like “write what you want to read” and we’re talking about fanfic, or even meta or even silly headcanon posts or jokes, that also means draw what you want to see, it also means make what you want to hold, apply it to any creation you can think of. Put the thing you want to see into the world. And it counts for fandom, too.

I don’t want to be part of a fandom that’s constantly infighting and attacking people, so I don’t fight and attack people. I don’t want to be called a predator for being a Marius fan and so I don’t engage in posts that say as much, not even to argue, because I don’t want my followers (who might also be Marius fans!) to have to see that on their dash. I want us to protect our peace and create a space we want to be in.

Like I have a policy that any time someone says I’m a freak or any time I see truly godawful word salad discourse, I go out of my way to post something kinky and offputting about Marius LMFAOOOO  because I want to be surrounded by reasonable fun people who share my sensibility for fiction. AND SOMETIMES IT’S CRICKETS, AND SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO WORK HARD TO FIND YOUR PEOPLE. But at the end of the day I know I’m being my most sincere self and I’m trying to have a good time and just post fun things that I enjoy. And like, the book fandom is small as fuck and we’re all famished, but I think if more of us did that, we’d build a much more productive and tolerant space.

And for all the shit I’ve mentioned, all the drama and attacks and all the times people have harassed me or tried to make me feel small, you know what? I just got back from @apoptoses & @cup-of-lixx 's wedding and they met in VCblr! We spent all week with our VCblr friends! We all went to New Orleans together last Halloween !

When I used to work on ships it was like a fandom friend world tour! I had so many coffees in port with my vampire friends!

I’ve learned so much about writing from all the time I’ve spent here and the community of writer friends who supported me! There’s folks I met on VCblr that I talk to LITERALLY every day! They are such huge parts of my life and genuine life-long friends!!!!!!

Sometimes it seems like the ROI is garbage but like, so much of finding the joy is also learning to protect yourself from the negativity.

It IS out there. It DOES suck. And it’s lonely when you haven’t found your people yet. But fandom doesn’t have to be the 500 angry assholes arguing with each other about a fucking TV show, it can be your 3 besties in a private group chat having a great time.

Like I just drove @hekateinhell to the airport (met THROUGH TUMBLR!) and on the way back I was listening to an episode of Last Day and they were discussing the concept that “community is a life raft” and it hit me so hard man!!!!!!!!!!!

Find your people! Block the shit starters! Mute discourse buzzwords that you know are going to upset you!

Keep! Posting! What! You! Want! To! See!!

Fandom is self-generating, we can do this!

My inbox is always open and BELIEVE ME I have been motherfucking persona non grata in this place before and I know how rancid the vibe can be so please come talk any time it's grinding you down, I got you!!!!!!!!!!!!