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littlegiantposts · 4 years

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movie night

pairing: todoroki x f!reader

warning: strong language probably. possible anime/manga spoilers! grammar mistakes :( I suck at writing

summary: It’s not that Y/n didn’t want friends, it’s just people always found her intimidating

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent lol sorry about that, so like yeah I’m gonna be saying y/n, but also i am deriving her personality, attitude, looks from a character that I’ve sort of made up in my head haha. also idk if this is like a headcanon, imagine, or like a scenaro....so sorry. And like, sort of a side note, I love making main characters that are like sorta op so y/n’s quirk and story is sorta insane, but you guys dont really have to worry about it too much because its not really in this so....yeah, i guess its just some context. I wrote this while listening to a playlist I made, titled, “ur a badass hero with class 1-a” on spotify so if ppl wanna hear it, I will post a link to it lol. OH and class 1-a are in their second year! That’s a lot, sorry! But, I hope you enjoy!

y/n’s quirk (if ur curious): controlling the 4 elements (aang from the last airbender vibe lmao); but she also got a companion named koda (think of Moro-no-kimi from Princess Mononoke for the look)

Y/n was never good at making friends. It’s not like she didn’t try, because she did. When she was a little kid, living on Catalina Island, she made a lot of attempts to make friends with fellow children in her pre-school and middle school. It just seemed that they wanted nothing to do with her, talking bad about her behind her back or acting as if she just didn’t exist.

It started to get exhausting for Y/n to keep trying and ending up always failing. So, when enrolling in the top hero school, UA, Y/n thought that maybe, just maybe, things would be different.

Nonetheless, it’s not like she had absolutely no one. She had Koda! Her best friend in the whole wide world, well her only friend, which was her pet wolf. However, Koda doesn’t like being called a “pet”, let’s stick with her companion. They are quite the inseparable duo.

Y/n looked down at Koda from her desk who was lulling herself to sleep on the floor as Present Mic was teaching an English lesson. Y/n wished she too can sleep at this moment, “It wouldn’t hurt if I just closed my eyes for just a couple minutes.” Y/n thought. Oh, she was wrong though.

“Alright! We are going take a short break since we need to get our new textbooks,” Present Mic’s voice rang through her ears with all his elongation and passion, “Y/n and Todoroki! What about you two go get the books from the library!” Y/n would have jolted at the mention of her face, but she was honestly too tired to do so.

She nodded her head, got up from her desk, and looked at Koda if he was going to follow her. Of course, he perked up at the mention of her name and was going with her. A small smile was now on Y/n’s lips. Y/n was glad that she knew she can depend on Koda, always in her corner.

As she pushed her chair away from her desk, getting up and walking towards the door, she didn’t realize that most of the class was either looking at her or the half and half boy, for he had to endure the trip with the enigma that is Y/n.

The class just doesn’t know Y/n that well. She was one of the new students this year, along with Shinso. However, they at least knew of Shinso from last year. Y/n was a brand-spanking new addition to the class. Not to mention, her introduction to the class was nothing short of intimidating.

Aizawa knew Y/n had a lot of strengths. In fact, he used her skills as a type of learning lesson for the class. Not to mention, he completely singled her out during the “lesson” as he instructed the class that Y/n will have a bell that is tied around her belt. All they had to do was get the bell. Y/n, being the competitive person she was, didn’t back down at this challenge. Safe to say, no one was able to get the bell that day.

Y/n sighed at the memory. “Maybe, if you had some chill, you would be able to get a friend, Y/n” a voice in her head said, causing Y/n’s shoulders to shrink and her hands to be stuffed into her pockets. (Yes, she has pockets with her uniform. Yes, she’s still wearing the school uniform skirt. She sowed pockets into them for this very habit.)

“Uh, hey wait up.” a deeper voice called, already identifying who it is.

Y/n turned to right, looking at Koda for a brief second. From far away, one would think he was just grimacing, but as Y/n was closer, she can see he was very close to full-on growling at the sound of his voice.

Koda doesn’t really like Todoroki and Y/n always found it funny. Koda found everyone else real entertaining. As much as Koda was a wolf, he really was a people’s person. If Y/n didn’t know any better, it seemed Koda had a better relationship with her classmates than she actually did.

Y/n adopted a tired smile as she reacted to Koda’s growling at Shoto. She then looked behind her, seeing Todoroki jog lightly towards her. Her small smile soon faded away.

“Even if you try again to be a friend, you know that people will always end up fearing you.” Y/n honestly wanted to bang her head against a wall because this annoying voice was truly the bane of her existence.

Y/n stopped in her tracks. Koda made eye-contact with her, almost telepathically asking her, “Why are you stopping for him?!”.

“I may be aloof, but I have to at least be polite.” Y/n told her wolf companion. Koda only let out a breathe of frustration as he also stopped as well.

Todoroki soon caught up to the duo and was on Y/n’s left side. And the three began their trek to the school library.

There was some silence.

For Todoroki, it was so awkward. “Why don’t you say something to her?” he asks himself, “Or are you going to let another opportunity slip?”

You see, Shoto Todoroki admired Y/n. She was incredibly skilled with her quirk. She was confident, but not arrogant. She was an innovator, while still accepting old principles. She was naturally smart, but always open to learning. To him, she was so balanced. He couldn’t help himself as the admiration started to soon feel like a crush on the dark haired girl.

For Y/n, she didn’t think anything of the silence. In fact, she was grateful for the silence. More silence, means less time for talking. Less chance of Y/n making a fool out of herself.

“You seem more tired than usual. Trained a lot yesterday, I presume?” And Todoroki broke the silence that Y/n was trying to insist.

“Yeah, trying out a new technique with my water.”

Y/n was surprised.

She really could have been more blunt with her answer.

Theoretically, all she really had to respond with was a “yeah”, but she decided to add that last part.

Why? Why did she feel inclined to go into more detail? Now, Y/n was confused.

“That’s cool.” Todoroki wanted to hit himself in the head. “That’s all you got to say? What a conversation this is” Shoto mentally sighs. He feels like his heart is going to burst at how fast its going.

“I’m actually trying to freeze it, but that turns out to be harder than expected,” Y/n almost slapped her hand on her mouth.

Why is she going into more detail? This doesn’t make sense. She’s been quite blunt lately when people try to talk to her, so what gives?

Is it Todoroki, himself? “Maybe he put a spell on me or something.” Y/n didn’t think the “icy-hot bastard” would dabble in witchcraft, but things were just not adding up in Y/n’s mind. All these thoughts woke Y/n right up, ridding herself of her tiredness.

As for Todoroki, his mind was going into overdrive. “She’s having trouble with freezing water? She must know that this is my specialty. Is this her way of spending time with me? Does this mean the feelings I have for her are mutual? Perhaps, we can train together and I can help her with freezing.” The mere thought of spending time with Y/n outside of class made his cheeks warm up.

He was an absolute love-struck fool for Y/n.

“Oh, we’re here.” Y/n stated the obvious as they stand in front of the school’s library, halting Shoto’s mental mumbling, which almost resembled one of Midoryia’s ever-present babbling.

Shoto Todoroki immediately shot his arm forward to open the door for Y/n, but Y/n was thinking the same thing and they reached for the same handle.

Their hands touch.

And Todoroki thinks he can die happy now. Y/n’s hand is so soft. Much to his dismay, Y/n immediately drew her hand back as if his hand was scalding hot water.

Y/n mumbled a quick “sorry” and places her hand on the other handle as there are two doors to the library, she opens it and immediately walks through it as Koda follows in tow. Koda dawns an absolute confused look as he didn’t know what the hell that interaction was about.

The actual task of getting the books aren’t that hard. In fact, it was an easy and quick task.

So, why is this causing Y/n’s mind and heart feeling like they are overheating.

As they walk back to the classroom with stacks of textbooks, Y/n thought, “Okay, there’s no way in hell that he will try to talk to me again, especially after that awkward incident. Now, let’s breakdown why the actual hell you acted that way, Y/n.” She mentally scolded herself like she was a child.

Todoroki, as always, had a different plan and decided to continue the conversation, “You know, if you need help with freezing water, I can always help you since that is part of my quirk.”

Y/n has officially short-circuited.

He is voluntarily asking? Voluntarily. Asking?

Asking if Y/n wanted to train together?

This has never happened before, and she doesn’t know how to respond. “I would like that. I typically train in the morning and sometimes after school” is what Y/n felt like saying. It is as if her mind and mouth were working against each other.

However, Y/n’s thoughts were cut short as she heard the chatter of some of her fellow classmates. They three of them were very close to their classroom as their door to the room was wide open.

“Hey guys, if we’re having a movie night tonight, do you think we should invite Y/n?”

It was Midoryia who asked the question. Y/n, Shoto, and Koda stopped dead in their tracks at the mention of her name. Shoto and Koda looked at Y/n with a worried expression. For her own good, she probably shouldn’t be listening, but she couldn’t help but be curious of her classmates’ plan in regards to her.

“It’s not that we don’t want her there. It’s just that, who is up for asking her?”

Silence. No one responded to the question.

Koda notices how Y/n’s grip on the textbooks tightened. Shoto noticed how your head was now titled downward, hiding your face.

“She’s just so intimidating. And not to mention that training exercise we did when we first met her. She’s sort of scary, to be honest.”

“Scary. You’re scary, Y/n. Terrifying.” She couldn’t help but repeat her classmates’ thought of her. She was just torturing herself at this point. No point in dwelling on first impressions, but as this is affecting her current relationship, or lack thereof, with her classmates, she couldn’t help it.

“Y/n-” Todoroki tries to interject before Y/n gets the wrong idea.

But, it’s too late.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks for the offer though, Todoroki.” Y/n’s words were slow. As much as her brain was going a million miles per hour, her mouth was evidently slower as her breathing was heavier.

She wanted to disappear, or at least get swallowed by the ground. She kept her head down as she strode into the classroom. Her classmates being oblivious to Y/n’s knowledge of what they truly think of her, paying no attention to her.

Shoto was basically frozen in place, next to the door, but he gained composure and walked in the class as well, a couple seconds after. Y/n quickly placed her books on the front desk where Present Mic sat behind of, she sat back in her seat that was in the back of the class.

Y/n watched how Shoto was still standing in front of the classroom as he was stopped by his classmates. Now, they were just chatting, probably talking about the upcoming movie night.

Y/n felt jealousy bubble up inside her. She wished she can chat like how Shoto was effortlessly talking away to his classmates. Or how Midoryia stopped him with such ease to talk about a social event.

Y/n yearned for some friendly interaction. That’s what she wanted when coming to UA.

She wanted to be normal. As normal as she could be. A normal teenager.

“Things don’t always go according to plan, huh?” Y/n pouted and placed her head on her desk and just waited patiently till the school day was over.

Koda worriedly looked at Y/n. “She’s going to want to train after this. And I bet she’s going to push herself harder because of today.” Koda knew Y/n very well. Knew her like the back of his hand, well, paw.

And, Koda was right. Y/n was in gym gamma, completely exhausted. Sweat covered her body as her muscles were screaming at her take a break. Her labored breathe continued as her body was trying its best to keep up.

Y/n was frustrated. “Why? Why am I like this?” she kept repeating like a mantra.

“I want to be normal. Why can’t I be like them?”

“Why?”

“You’re a monster. It’s actually quite simple.”

Y/n threw a punch with her fist encased in water, and it wasn’t until after that punch was thrown, she realized that there was now an evident hole in the thick, solid concrete wall.

Y/n fell to her knees. Koda hurriedly made his way to her, making sure she didn’t do anything too stupid. Once Koda was close, she was doing something unexpected.

She was crying.

Hot streams, cascading down her face. She started to hiccup, her breathing erratic. “A-am I scary to you, Koda?” her voice was so small.

Koda nudged his way in between her legs and nestled his head into her neck. Y/n, full on sobbing now, wraps her arms around Koda and her cries are muffled by his fur. Wailing and self-deprecating questions can be faintly heard from her if anyone were to enter the gym.

A couple minutes passed. Y/n’a breathing returned to a calm rhythm.

“Thanks, Koda. I needed that,” Y/n sniffles, “C’mon let’s go make dinner, I’ll whip you up something special for putting up with me today.” Koda’s tail immediately began to wag at the thought of Y/n’s cooking.

Y/n was an independent person. She likes doing things on her own as much as can. She doesn’t eat the food from the school cafeteria, instead, she opts for making her and Koda’s meals from the kitchen that is provided to them in their dormitory. And indeed, she made a delicious dinner for both of them.

Now, the hard part. Because of how long her training took, showering, and making dinner, Y/n knew that her classmates were in the common space already, probably preparing to have their movie night. And, she had to pass them. It was a short distance, short walk, Y/n was trying to reassure herself. Just walk straight towards to the elevator and you’re safe.

Y/n takes a deep breathe and walks out of the kitchen. The chatter of her classmates emerges to her ears, but as she walks towards the elevator, the chatter dies down.

“Oh no.” Y/n’s eyes widened in fear. “Way to go on ruining the mood, Y/n.”

Thankfully, the elevator was quick and the doors slide open, making an easy escape for Y/n and Koda. She let out a breathe she didn’t even realize she was holding in as the doors slid shut. Y/n looks at Koda, who was already looking at her, “It’s better this way, anyway” Y/n didn’t know if she was telling Koda that, or herself.

On the other side of the elevator’s doors, her classmates collectively let out a sigh, “Well that was another chance we wasted.” Kaminari was the first to break the awkward silence.

“Tch. Like any of you have the guts to actually ask her.” Bakugo chimed in.

“Oh please, Bakugo, I know she intimidates you, too.” Mina fired back.

“Whatever.”

“She heard you guys.” Todoroki suddenly talked. Everyone casted their attention to him, “Earlier today, I mean. She heard you guys when you were talking about inviting her to movie night.”

The once light-hearted atmosphere in the room was now tilted with guilt.

“She heard all that?” Midoryia incredulously asked, only imagining what you would be feeling because of their words.

“She must feel terrible.” Ochaco openly voiced her thoughts.

“She probably hates us.” Kirishima adds in.

“She means well, I promise. I think we just need to give her a chance.” Todoroki tries to reason with his classmates.

“First, we need to apologize.” Midoryia proposes as he looks among his classmates. His classmates collectively nod their heads in agreement

“You’re right. Well, good luck Midoryia.” Kaminari pats his back as encouragement. Everyone else either gives an encouraging smile or a thumbs up.

“Ha?! What?! You guys already decided that I’m going to be the one to apologize?” Izuku was flailing his arm around and was checking everyone else’s reaction.

“Well, yes. It’s your idea and you are one of the most apologetic people here.” Iida explained to an overthinking Midoryia.

After regaining composure, he realized that this was probably the best option, “Okay, I’ll, I’ll go now.”

Midoryia makes his way to Y/n’s dorm room. He was nervous. He only had very limited interactions with Y/n. So, he really didn’t know what to expect. Before he knew it, he was before your door.

On the other side, Y/n was chowing down on her food. She took a swig of her water, “So, how’s the food? I tried a new technique on roasting the veggies.” Y/n babbled on for a bit, but she realized that Koda’s plate was hardly touched. Her gaze landed on Koda who was sitting on her bed with a very obvious frown, staring at the door. Y/n immediately knew why.

“Hey, if you wanna go hangout with them, I can push the buttons on the elevator for you-”

Koda was irritated at how difficult Y/n was being, she can just ask them if she can join. It was simple. Koda used his mouth to latch on to Y/n’s sleeve and started to drag her to her dorm’s door.

“H-hey Koda! Not cool, man! You know, I can’t go down there.” Y/n tugs her sleeve away from Koda.

Koda turned to his last resort. He did his signature pout.

“Oh, please. You know that stopped working on me awhile ago. Besides, we can have our own movie night, right?” Y/n tried to reason, but her reasoning just felt sad.

Before Y/n could step away from her dorm’s door, she heard a knock. The two quickly tuned their heads at the door as if something miraculous just happened.

Y/n took one step toward the door.

“It’s Midoryia.” Koda began to wag his tail, “don’t get your hopes up too quickly.”

Y/n opened the door only a slit for her head to poke out, “Oh, hi Midoryia. Is something wrong?” she asks.

“U-um, no nothings wrong.” he responds as nerves start to take over and he doesn’t continue on.

“Okay.” With that, Y/n closed her door. Koda wanted to scratch his eyes out. This was her chance! For someone who was the top student in her class, she was so stupid. “He didn’t want anything. Sorry to disappoint, Koda-” another knock interrupted her.

She looked at the door, “It’s still Midoryia.” Koda rolled his eyes.

Y/n went to to open the door, again, only opening a bit, “Yes, Midoryia? You sure something isn’t wrong?”

“Uh, well I was wondering if we can talk for a bit.”

“Oh, yeah sure.” Y/n stepped out of her door, and shutting it.

However, Koda was right on her trail, but was shut out by the now closed door. He pouts at the door. And how holds his ear to the door, interested in the conversation that has yet to come.

“So, what’s up?” Y/n asked the green-haired boy.

“I, we, as a class, wanted to apologize for our words today.” Midoryia spoke in a remorseful and quiet tone.

Y/n was taken back. “So, they know that I heard what they were saying? Must have been Todoroki’s doing.”

“Look, it’s fine. I know I’m intimidating-“

“But it’s not fine. We shouldn’t have treated or talked about you that way.”

Y/n was stunned at his words. He took that as a sign to continue, “and we were hoping, if you’d be okay if we start over and become friends.”

Y/n remained cautious with her walls, “You know, friendship isn’t really a perquisite for this course.”

“Of course, I know that. We all do, but it doesn’t hurt to have them, right?”

Y/n felt like tearing up. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to put her trust in that last statement of his.

“I’ll be be down in 5 minutes,” Y/n stated rather blandly, but it didn’t matter to Midoryia.

“Great! See ya!” He waved and started to head back to the elevator, before he pressed the button, Y/n called him once more,

“Midoryia?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” and nods his head. He couldn’t be more thrilled that this will all work out.

As for Y/n, she opened her door to her dorm, and closing it as she stepped inside.

As soon as she was in the comfort of her own room, she broke into her happy dance. Her fists clenched, eyes shut, shoulders scrunched, jumping in the air, squeals make their way pass her lips, with the biggest smile on her face

Koda felt a wave of relief of wash over him. He was glad that she was finally experiencing acceptance.

After the moment passes, Y/n sighs and looks at Koda, ruffling his fur on the top of his head.

“Well, shall we?” Y/n said in an extravagant manner as she opened her door and bowed.

Koda, playing along, held his head high and strutted out. Y/n let out a light-hearted laugh and they made their way down, together.

Once Y/n actually made it to the common room, all of her classmates were looking at her, stopping their conversations as well. The confidence that Y/n help was long gone, feeling now awkward yet again.

However, the silence didn’t last too long as the class enveloped her in boisterous apologies, hugs, and pats on the back.

To say Y/n was overwhelmed was understatement. She had never been around these many people, giving attention towards her. It was new territory she had yet to cross.

“Guys, you should probably let her breathe.”

That was Todoroki. Y/n pried her eyes away from Mina who was asking what conditioner she uses, and looked at Shoto. Y/n mouthed a “thank you” and he simply nodded.

The class went back to their seats, muttering apologies again for getting in her personal space.

Now, Y/n faced yet another problem:

Where is she going to sit?!

She kept standing where she stood for a good couple seconds, scanning the area for any good spots.

However, there was actually only one spot open. And, it just happen to be next to Todoroki.

Y/n mentally prepared herself and started her path towards him. Of course, Shoto knew this. He was the one who made sure he saved a seat right next to him just for this occasion.

But things don’t always go according to plan, right?

Rightly so, right before Y/n could take the unaccompanied seat, Denki was coming back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn, plopping right down on the seat.

“Oh, hey Y/n! I’m glad you made it! You want some popcorn?”

“No, I’m good, thanks though.” Y/n was able to play it off as she chose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, which coincidentally was in front of the seat that Shoto resided.

Shoto was irritated. He wanted you to sit next to him. For crying out loud, that was the whole reason he had this seat open in the first place. All he does is sigh, catching Y/n’s attention.

Y/n turns back to Todoroki, sending a small smile his way, but then turning back to the screen as her fellow classmates were arguing on what to watch.

Y/n put her hand to her chest. This is weird. Why is her heart rate so high? She’s not usually like this. Maybe Todoroki did cast a spell on her.

Y/n couldn’t think about it too much as the movie began playing.

#bnha shoto #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki x reader #midoriya izuku #mha x you #mha x reader #shoto todoroki x y/n #mha angst #bnha imagines

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aegialia · 3 years

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self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill.

for good:

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby.

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting.

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends.

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me.

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness.

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories.

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me.

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

#gloomth and circumstance #this is definitely not required reading!#i just felt like rambling for a very long time about my feelings and my blog #w bonus blog trivia at the bottom that amuses me and probably no one else

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not-a-christmas-tree · 4 years

Text

i watched the dallas theater company les mis and here are my observations part TWO

i recently watched a modern adaptation of les mis from 2014! i took hella notes bc les mis being set in modern day has a LOT MORE than you would think! i just posted my act one notes, so here are the ones from act two. enjoy! :D

ACT TWO

(Building The Barricade)

oh javert,,,you and your red beret-scarf combo

everyone shakes hands the same way?? they all like. half bro hug. young people ig 🤷‍♀️

oh on my own is gonna hurt me huh

éponine has her hands up when she goes to take the letter to cosette that’s an interesting take

jvj looks so done lmao “really bruh just give me the letter i’ll give it to cosette it’s FINE”

omg first time i’ve ever seen éponine not take the money after the letter!! that actually makes so much sense bc she doesn’t take marius’ money when he asks her to find cosette’s house either. that,,,yes that’s good

the modern era begs the question... why didn’t marius just ask for cosette’s number?? i’d assume it’s just a thing that jvj doesn’t allow her to have a phone bc The Cops, but. maybe marius and cosette are the straight version of cottagecore lesbians they just write letters for ~The Aesthetic~

(On My Own)

i was right on my own was gonna hurt me

first time i’ve ever seen an éponine disguise where she actually passes as a boy lmao

FINALLY A VERSION OF OMO WHERE ITS NOT JUST FORLORN SELF-CARESSING THANK YOU

surprisingly i have less notes here that’s fun i thought i’d have more

(Javert at the Barricades)

WOAHHHHH THEY DID NOT SKIMP ON BARRICADE SET PIECES THAT SHIT IS COOOOOL

oh the barricade scenes are already hitting too hard

cops are in riot gear cops. are in. riot gear.

oh the javert spy thing that also hits funny because obviously

gavroche is armed with a bat i love you son

FULL VERSION OF LITTLE PEOPLE AT THE BARRICADE AYEEEEE

(A Little Fall Of Rain)

wait hold on why is marius not,,,singing to éponine on “why have you come back here?” he’s like. scolding someone,,, huh??

oh enj goes to help marius with ép!! and he calls over who i assume would be joly i STAN

MARIUS CRIES AFTER ÉP DIES KILL MEEEE

(The First Attack)

i like how jvj does the second confrontation here. he looks less angry and more like,,,compassionate and that MAKES SENSE bc yk. he’s telling javert he’s wrong but he’s not doing it out of spite he’s doing it bc this guy NEEDS to know what he does as a cop and realize that being a cop isn’t just enforcing rules, and it never was just that.

i do love the exasperated “gO” from jvj that’s kinda great ngl

(Drink With Me)

i’m very sad that there won’t be any exr from these boys

v e r y sad here

i do see grantaire looking PRETTY sad though

bold of y’all to assume that the modern day amis would all be straight

okay i can tell that grantaire really is going hard on the Existential Singing like,,,sure he’s just standing there but like. damn bro

SO THERE A R E LADIES ON THE BARRICADE WHY TF ARENT THEY FIGHTING

BETTER SEE SOME CHANGE THERE

i just realized that the cockades are buttons that is the BEST

(Bring Him Home)

jvj actually looks kinda happy in BHH and tbh i kinda like it?? it’s only on the “he’s like the son i might have known” line but i like it

oh those vowels oh boy they TALL

(The Final Battle)

enjolras is for some reason, still angry...why...why bro....

the staging for gavroche’s death is INTERESTING bc he’s reaching up at the sniper on the tower. hm. i dont hate it

OH SOMEONE ON THE BARRICADE IS RECORDING I THINK!!! GOOD ADDITION!!

i can’t imagine how many blood packs they went through

oh enjolras’s death okay so. he’s in a like. No Man’s Land almost, and the riot cops come in after him. it’s an interesting take because it almost mirrors the scene in the book, except obvs grantaire isn’t here. they also have an added scene after he dies where cops are checking out and using radios that is. that is EERIE.

jvj walks over to enjolras’s body 🥺

HE ALSO FUCKIN S C R E A M S WHEN HE SEES MARIUS ON THE GROUND GODDAMN MAN O U C H

thenardier steals combeferre’s glasses wow thanks for that added pain

thenardier and jvj have a mini fight oh that’s kinda cool hm

(Javert’s Soliliquy)

javert opens his soliloquy with some SPICY SADNESS OH B O Y he sounds broken already!! start strong!!

emotions go broken - anger - confusion? - mAJOR confusion - hopelessness

javert can FLY! no legit he’s on ropes

(Turning)

turning is. turning is almost a funeral.

OH THEYRE N U N S !

nuns are visiting the barricade 🥺

OH DAMN “what’s the use of praying if there’s nobody who hears?” THAT CERTAINLY HAS WEIGHT NOW THAT THEY ARE N U N S

it has just occurred to me that people have been dead on the floor for like. a solid five minutes

(Empty Chairs At Empty Tables)

“now my friends. are dead. and gone” he pauses like he’s realizing it just then oh OUCHIE

wait is marius,,,at the barricades? is he legit singing to his friends dead bodies? oh shit oh NO

OH N O OH NONONO THIS IS WORSE

THE BARRICADE BOYS RISE UP FROM THE FLOOR OH N O OUCH OUCH

they group up and salute him and wALK OFF NO OWWWW

*cosette and marius kiss* jvj: *COUGH COUGH*

marius and valjean’s lil conversation is interesting in the way valjean seems to ask marius “who am i?” rather than ask himself. he phrases it in a way that makes me think he’s like. quizzing marius lmao

(The Wedding)

omg i think baby cosette and éponine are flower girls 🥺🥺

“go away thenardier” *madame mouths ‘dammit!’*

thenardier your boat shoes hurt me

madame: “get up! get up!” thenardier: “stop—STOP IT!”

TWO GUYS ARE DANCING TOGETHER AND WAVE AT THENARDIER ON “this ones a queer, but what can you do”

yeah i think i found my new favorite thenardiers thank you dallas theater company

fantine sits on the bench when cosette comes by, cosette sits on bench next to her, and fantine tries to touch her but can’t 🥺

jvj just gave a hand-over-heart head nod to cosette but fantine gave it back i,,,ouch

ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE ARE WITH FANTINE AND ÉPONINE FOR JVJ’S DEATH

the chain gang is in the epilogue i repeat the cHAIN GANG IS IN THE EPILOGUE

the orchestra rests on the last “say do you hear the distant drums” and that was the coolest thing i’ve ever heard

that final harmony is MONEYYYY and i want to cry

OVERALL NOTES:

this javert has the most interesting interpretation because up until his FINAL SCENE he is the stone cold police officer, and he plays it SO WELL. like i have never been truly angry at a javert up until this guy, and whether that was because it was modern and resonates A LOT in 2020 or he just looks like a cop i want to punch, I DON’T KNOW but he plays it SO WELL and i love it so much!!

these thenardiers are the fucking BEST NGL they are the perfect mix of funny and cruel. madame t is also funny as HELL and i wish i had her talent lmao

i said it before but the police costumes in this show are. woosh. kudos to the costumer i took one look at those guys and was like “haha, no!.” vaguely related to that, i think this was the first time i nearly cried at Look Down like. the first song at the show, simply because of the convict getting the SHIT beat out of him on the floor. that hurt me and i hate that it is completely accurate to what happens in prisons today.

lovely ladies was,,,a LOT and tbh, i feel like it didn’t need to be. obviously it does show how horrible it is for sex workers, but that is why the music is there. the music and lyrics is there to tell what you don’t show visually. (though i do love the male prostitute lmao he took no shit)

i also said this before but the fact that there wasn’t bigger of a relationship between enjolras and grantaire kind of annoys me simply because they are revolutionaries in the present day. you can’t tell me that ALL OF THEM WERE STRAIGHT. with how many people i know now that identify under the queer and trans umbrella, and also how queer they are (to me) in the brick, the absence of any exr in a modern interpretation hurts a little.

in conclusion, this show was fucking FANTASTIC and even though i’m six years late, it still resonates hard given the time we live in today. i think i nearly screamed when i saw the cops in riot gear on the barricade because that is LITERALLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. this just reminds me how timeless the story of les mis is because you had to change LITERALLY NOTHING from the story to make it make sense in the modern age, and that is really the lesson you should learn from les mis; these things happen everywhere, and they need to be fixed.

thank you for listening to my rambling, i am sure i forgot something because there was just so damn much but i hope you enjoyed otherwise! not-a christmas-tree out! :)

#les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #dallas theater company #jean valjean #javert #fantine #cosette #marius #enjolras #grantaire

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imaginexmeintheuniverse · 5 years

Text

5 times you infuriated me and 1 time you made it okay

A/N: okay so the 5 times concept is something i enjoy writing very much, however i am aware that in this piece in particular, a lot of the ideas are underdeveloped and probably especially dont make sense with the ending when you look at the relationship, but please keep in mind that this ‘5 times’ theme i chose focuses on those kinds of incidents so there are a lot of other times in between (and i dont have the time or energy to turn this into a super long fic but perhaps one day.. ) so this is what happened!

Warnings: mentions of torture (like in the 7th when Bellatrix takes to Hermione)

Tags: @expellimarvelous and for some reason my hp taglist got lost so let me know if you’d like to be added!

↠↠↠↠↠↠

I. Bad Start to the Sixth Year

Your sixth year at Hogwarts seems to be off to a good start as you laugh and snack on sweets with two of your three your best friends on Hogwarts Express. Or at least it seemed like it was off to a good start until the train arrives at the station, and Harry is nowhere to be found.

Waving off Ron and Hermione with a promise to catch up, you insist on going to look for him by yourself. Your search leads you all the way to the other side of the strain where the blinds are conveniently drawn. You can hear a voice muffled through the closed door, and you become filled with dread when you identify who it belongs to.

Sliding the door open a crack, you see a familiar head of slicked-back platinum hair. You aren’t able to make out what he says, but you do see him bring down a foot to meet Harry’s nose.

“Malfoy, what the fuck?!” you burst out, causing the Slytherin boy to jump in surprise.

“Y-Y/N- I-I—”

“I don’t know what the bloody hell you think you’re getting away with, but you better get the fuck off this train before I curse you,” you snarl, shoving him aside to get to Harry. Seeing that he’s been petrified, you take your wand out of your jacket pocket and mutter, “finite,” to which your friend thankfully wakes up, blinking a few times. He doesn’t move much, as he tries to regain control of his muscles, and you insist he takes a moment to do so.

Throughout this, Draco has gone so quiet you think he might have actually left, but when you turn your head to meet his stormy eyes, you’re filled with rage, once again.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! Get out!”

“But Y/N, I-I'm—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you say in a lower tone as you tend to your friend, not even sparing him another glance.

Why is it that just when you think there might be a redeemable quality buried deep in Draco Malfoy, he always does something that proves otherwise?

II. Welcome to the Slugclub

“Okay, okay! I was gate-crashing! Happy?” He admits, trying to shake off Filch’s grasp on his jacket.

His eyes that used to be sharp and bright, have recently become sullen. They lock with yours for a solid moment before he’s ushered out by Snape.

Your eyes linger on his figure as he’s led away from the party— probably longer than they should have, but you can’t help noticing how thin he’s become. You’ve barely seen him all year, despite having a few classes together. He was never that hefty to begin with, but it looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in ages. Other than his usual perfectly tailored wardrobe, he now wears dark circles under his eyes, and it’s impossible not to notice how the contours of his face have become that much sharper and his already pale skin has adopted a sickly pigmentation.

You and Harry follow the pair out, but for different reasons. You know that Harry wouldn’t be happy about yours because of his suspicions, but Draco looks like he’s crumbling under stress.

Eavesdropping only proves Harry’s doubts about Malfoy, and he then decides to rejoin the party as to not get caught by Snape, but you hang back, telling him you need to go to the loo.

You wait in the shadows until you hear Snape’s steps scurry away before approaching Malfoy who stays behind, sitting on a ledge. A half-smirk appears on his face upon noticing you like he’s been gathering an arsenal of insults to shoot at you, but really, under the snide mask, he marvels at how lovely you look tonight.

“Straying from your date with Potter?” he spits out Harry’s name like it’s revolting to have on his tongue. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think Potter’s lady is ditching him in favour of a more refined pureblood—”

“He’s one of my best friends!” You roll your eyes and flail your hands up in exasperation. “And how is the nature of our relationship any of your business?!”

He snorts, leaning his back on the walk behind him and crosses his arms over his chest nonchalantly.

“You know, I came out here to check and make sure you were okay!” You shout at him hands coming up to furiously push your hair back. “I can’t believe that for a second I thought that— no- but you—”

“You thought what?” His voice has become softer, hard exterior starting to peel away in your presence. He stands from his seat, mild concern washing over his features.

You shake your head, looking anywhere but at him. “N-Nothing—”

“Tell me,” his hands place themselves on your biceps, long fingers curling around your arms gently.

You fall victim to his intense gaze, getting lost in the grey seas of his irises. His features aren’t as hard as they usually are and the grasp he has on you is delicate; like he’s afraid to hurt you and you almost feel like you can let your guard down. Almost.

“Is it true?” you ask him, diverging from the subject and he raises an eyebrow in response. “Did you hex Katie Bell?”

He opens his mouth, and then closes it without a word when he realizes he has nothing to answer to that and you’re the only person he can’t lie to. That’s enough of a confirmation for you. You let out a breath of disbelief and he starts to panic, because contrary to the backwards dynamic the two of you share, part of him does care what you think. “Y/N- p-please listen—”

All emotion leaves your voice as you tell him, “Just leave me alone, Malfoy.”

You shrug him off, and spin on your heel, breaking the eye contact. Walking down the hall, you leave him there to bask in the silence and his dark thoughts.

III. Hair Like You

You’re already teeming with rage as you scour the castle for Ron, who slipped you one of Fred and George’s prank snacks that ended up changing your hair color. Running into Draco Malfoy, of all people, really puts the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

To make things worse, it looks as though he’s going out of his way to get to you when he spots you from across the courtyard. At first he squints, not fully sure if it’s you with the new physical change, and then tails you down two hallways, not giving a single damn how creepy he may look.

“What do you want, Malfoy—”

“It seems like you’re more obsessed with me than I had originally thought,” he snickers, catching up with your quickened pace.

That’s when it hits you, and you instantly halt, causing him to smack into your back. Spinning around to face him, your eyes widen in horror as you take in the familiar platinum blonde hair— the same shade you saw in the mirror earlier.

“That’s just great!” You throw your hands up dramatically. “Now I look like you!”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself—”

“Oh, sod off, Malfoy!”

“You know, it really doesn’t look that bad. Maybe you’re starting to have better taste.”

Despite knowing full well that that was Malfoy speak for a compliment, you’re in no mood for it. “Oh, well I’m so glad that the Slytherin prince thinks me, a lowly commoner, 'doesn’t look that bad’ just fu—”

“No! No! No! Y/N! I didn’t mean—”

“—ck off! Because on top of looking like the most insufferable git in the entire school what I really wanted was to receive a backhanded compliment—” And just then, you spot the familiar redhead with bad influences for older brothers from across the hall who you’re even more pissed off at than Malfoy.

“I don’t have time for this,” is all you say as you bolt down the hall towards Ron, screaming, “YOU’RE DEAD, WEASLEY!”

IV. Held Hostage

Hermione’s screams are enough to make you feel like you’re being gutted, and when Bellatrix takes her knife to your arm, you’re absolutely terrified. At least this means your best friend has a break from her torture. In the meantime, you nearly bite through your cheek to hold in your own screams whilst the saddistic woman spells out the hateful term that’s been thrown at you your whole life, carving it into your flesh.

After what feels like hours, the death eater sits back up, admiring the her work with a sickening grin on her face, and you want nothing more than to smack it off. Or at least you would if you didn’t feel like you’ve been drained. What you do feel is defiled; like your own skin is no longer yours, and the blood that runs through your veins doesn’t belong to you.

And Draco Malfoy has been standing on the other end of the room this whole time whilst his barbaric aunt tries to get information out of you.

The rest of what happens is experienced through the blur of hopeless tears your eyes are clouded with, until Harry picks you up off the floor after Bellatrix had pushed you and Hermione to save herself from the falling chandelier. A certain fire surges through you as you regain full consciousness.

You see Harry and Draco fight over his wand, and instinct kicks in as you lunge forward, efficiently tackling the latter to the ground. Snatching the wand out of his hand, you throw it to Harry. The blonde boy’s struggles are weak under your weight, almost half-assed as you feel the tension start to leave his muscles.

“Why?!” you shout in his face, grabbing him by the collar to keep him down. Tears well your eyes, but your gaze pierces through him nonetheless. The feelings of helplessness and emptiness are long gone as angry tracks burn down your cheeks. “Why—”

“Y/N!” Harry scoops you off him in one swift motion, pulling you to where your allies have regrouped. “This isn’t the time- w-we have to get out of here!”

You don’t say another word, and your infuriated eyes target the conflict and fear that resides in Draco’s. He’s left with the image of your anguish and fury engrained in his mind long after you disapparate.

V. Crossing Over

The Dark Lord himself beckoned him, and for a second you thought he might resist, but then his mother called him, extending her hand for him to come to her, and you saw him break.

“No!” You cry out as he starts to take hesitant steps towards the death eaters. “Draco, don’t do this!” His already shaky demeanor falters for a moment at the sound of his first name falling from your lips. “You have a choice.”

Steeling his nerves, he doesn’t allow himself to look back, because he would surely crumble under the weight of your gaze and the pain etched into your features. He continues forward, into the arms of a proud tyrant, and you swear your heart drops out of your chest.

Then, the whole scene with Neville’s heroic spirit ensues and you feel the fire within you flare up again when Harry tumbles out of Hagrid’s arms. Death Eaters that have been backing Voldemort start to disappear, leaving an unevenly distributed cloud of darkness.

Everyone else starts to retreat to the castle to regroup and fight as one, but you chase after the fleeing Malfoy family. It’s as though you have no control as your legs move under you on autopilot and as fast as they can go.

You’ve almost caught up to the trio on the bridge and can no longer help yourself.

“Coward!” You yell, trying your best not to let your voice crack, with no avail. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from spilling freely. Draco meets your eyes with his own that portray a boy who is terrified out of his mind, but you’re relentless. The truth isn’t always easy. “You’re a bloody coward, Malfoy!”

Avoiding your fiery gaze, he turns into his mother’s comfort. Not once do his eyes meet yours again before he disappears in a whisp of black smoke.

What you feel is rage, but with that rage comes with an added indescribable pain and disappointment.

+ Midsummer Night’s Dream

The next time you see the infamous Draco Malfoy is just over a year since he disapparated in a whisp of black smoke. Little do you know, immediately after apparating, the boy fell to his knees in the arms of his mother. He broke that day, and hasn’t been able to put himself back together since, contrary to the proud Malfoy mask he wears out in public. He hides behind crisp suits and perfectly-coiffed platinum locks. It’s enough to have anyone who reads the Daily Prophet fooled about how the heir carries onto a successful path despite everything that has happened.

But not you. He never could fool you of anything, really. So when you and your friends spot him taking a seat alone at the Three Broomsticks you know something’s up, because a refined Malfoy doesn’t just hang out amongst mere commoners like that.

“What is he doing here?” Ron spits out, red fury already starting at the tips of his ears and seething from his narrowed eyes.

As if on cue, Draco’s eyes lift from his glass to meet yours.

Hermione sends you a sympathetic smile before mumbling calming words to her boyfriend. The Malfoys and Weasleys always did get each other riled up.

Harry, who sits beside you, gives you a gentle nudge with his shoulder to get your attention and you can immediately read his expression. He can read yours just as easily and can see that you’re starting to get anxious. “Y/N…”

“Harry, it’s okay,” you simper, standing slowly from your seat. “I’ve got this.”

He casts a glance towards the blond across the room before his eyes come back meet yours, sending you a look as though to ask if you’re sure. You give him a nod and he sends you off with a comforting squeeze of your hand.

As you make your way to the table for one, you’re so focused on slowing your heart rate that you’ve arrived at your destination before you know it, seeing the shiny black dress shoes in contrast to the uneven wood panels of the pub’s floor. When you lift your gaze, it’s then that you realize he’s been staring at you the whole time.

“Malfoy.”

“Y/N.”

The sound of your first name rolling off his tongue lights something inside you— and it’s not pretty.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice is steady, but with a strong undertone of something darker. Like the calm before a storm.

“Can’t a man enjoy a butterbeer on his own?” Despite him being absolutely terrified of you, he somehow manages to exude a certain lightness. You look at his untouched pint and raise an eyebrow and he knows you aren’t in the mood for small talk.

“Cut the shit, Malfoy.”

Recognizing the beginnings of anger in your tone, he stands as smoothly as he can manage and gestures towards the door. The last thing he wants is for you to snap because he knows very well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your fury.

He follows closely behind as you lead him out into the dim lighting of Hogsmead. The summer air doesn’t feel as heavy as it has for the last week, and the sky proudly shows off the twinkling stars. It would be a perfect night if not for your circumstances.

You stop in your tracks and spin to face him so briskly, your forehead almost hits his chin. “You have one minute to talk before I hex you where you stand.”

“You always did excel in hexes and jinxes—”

“Fifty-five seconds, Malfoy.”

“Uh- erm- o-okay—”

You have about zero patience left. The anger thats been quietly bubbling for the last year has been on the brim of overflowing the second he walked in tonight, but so has all the pain and sadness you’ve kept locked up all this time. “You’re wasting my time.” You prepare to stalk off, but a firm hand pulls you back by your elbow, and for the the first time since the war, your face with Draco Malfoy. It’s the first time tonight that you can really see him. He looks worse than ever.

The silver pools that once resided in his irises look like shells of what they once were. And he sure felt that way, until he saw you. That’s when he realizes how empty he always is until he’s around you. My, how he took that for granted all these years.

Trying your very best, you fight against the urge to give into the part of you who still cares for him and wants to know the last time he had a good night’s sleep. You also try to fight against the water accumulation behind your eyelids, but it only makes it worse.

“What?! What do you want, Draco?!”

The use of his first name is the only sign he needs to be brave for once. Without further hesitation, he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Once over the initial shock, you give in for only a half second before you come to your senses and push him back, both hands planted firmly on his chest.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at?!”

“I-I- Y/N, I-I’m so—” Right then, is one of the few times you see what he’s really feeling on the inside be expressed on the outside. “I-I just-I thought—”

“You- you thought what?! We’d ride off into the sunset on the back of a unicorn and live happily ever after?!” You don’t care how frantic you look right now. You don’t care that the midsummer night wind is whipping your hair into complete and utter chaos. And you definitely don’t give a single fuck about how the drunk people stumbling by you giggle uncontrollably. You pause for a moment as you wait for them to be out of earshot, and once they are, you let out a frustrated breath and resume. “Did you honestly believe that you could kiss me, and then everything— all of the absolute shite of a mess would just go away?!”

His gaze drops to the ground that his shiny dress shoes stand on, with a few platinum strands that fall from their place. Those are the only visible signs of something amiss with the well-dressed man. But you see something else cloud his features: shame. The last time you saw that, which was also the last time you saw him, he left. He always left you while you were angry, enraged, and never stuck around to face the truth.

Draco Malfoy decides that this time is going to be different.

He has felt as empty as his eyes appeared for months, but when his gaze rolls back up to meet yours, you see the grey storms you saw when you first met him. Sure, they were masked by an outer shell that was brimming with entitlement, but they have now what they had then. Purpose.

“Y/N,” His hands twitch as he fights the urge to reach out for yours, deciding against it in favour of using two words you’ve been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry.” You soften, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you carried in your shoulders. The angry tears that stung the backs of your eyes melt to something peaceful as they escape their ducts. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I know I don’t deserve another chance, or any of the chances you’ve given me, but if you’ll give me one more I promise I’ll be better. Everything you’ve ever said about me is true; I am a coward, but I’m not leaving this time.”

“And what if I want you to leave?” You ask, testing the waters, more than anything else.

“If you tell me to leave— if that is what you truly want, then I will. Tell me to leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Okay, then leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Y-Yes—” You stammer out a complete lie. Every cell on your body knows it’s a lie, and apparently so does he.

“I don’t believe you.”

More than anything, you want to fling yourself into his arms but you feel like your feet have been colashoo-ed to the ground. A corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft lopsided smile as his hands raise to thread fingers through the top of your hairline, smoothing wild strands away from your face. His touch is so careful and delicate than you could have ever imagined. He leans down slowly and stops just as his lips have brushed over yours, asking for permission, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Syllables get caught in your throat, and channel themselves through you body as you move to slate your mouth over his. The sensation is so delicately mind-blowing, and it leaves you absolutely breathless when you pull away to lean your forehead against his.

All you can manage to breathe out is, “stay”.

The way your breath fans over his lips is intoxicating, and he’s certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful, no work of art finer, than the way you’re looking at him.

“I’m not leaving this time. Never again.”

His grasp tightens as he pulls you back to his lips and your fingers curl around the light fabric of his shirt. Every emotion and feeling accumulated over lost time is poured into this kiss.

This time, what you feel for him is something stronger and far different than anger.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #5 times fic #hp #hp imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp fic #hp fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #potatowrites

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pogaytosalad · 3 years

Text

Heres a wip of a sequel.

Dmviolence, by jade

Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.

I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.

I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.

Chapter 2

I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.

Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.

Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.

Chapter 3

Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.

I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.

The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.

Chapter 4

The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.

She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...

Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..

The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.

I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.

Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.

I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.

The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.

I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.

The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.

I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.

Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.

One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.

Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.

I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..

Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.

We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.

She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.

While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.

The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.

The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.

#writing #scifi #fantasy violence

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theflashfictioner · 5 years

Text

Bad Blood pt. 2

Pt. 2 from the fic idea by @rachelscosplay

After Wells turned on the Particle Accelerator and popped a bottle of champagne, it seemed like the air was alive with the happy, excited energy emanating from all the workers at S.T.A.R. Labs, including you. But, you knew what else was coming up, and while everyone was sipping champagne, jovially talking, you walked up and out of the cortex, choosing to enjoy the night's events in the fresh, cooler air.

Raindrops were falling lightly on your skin and cooling you off. You looked at your watch and then look up, seeing the raindrops slow to a stop before starting to float up. You hurry back into the building, finding the most stable point as the particle accelerator explodes. There's pure chaos both inside the labs and out, as you rush in to the cortex, where Caitlin, Cisco, and Ronnie all seem to be missing as many of the lab technicians and other engineers are panicking and suddenly the waves of dark matter ripple through the city. You hurry around to help those who were hurt pretty badly by the explosion, and everything hits you at once.

The worst has happened. You knew what Dr. Wells was planning, knew things had to happen as they did, but you were promised there were only going to be injuries. You had believed there would be minor damage, but as you spend the next few hours surrounded by paramedics, police, and even coroners. You feel dread settle in your stomach like a rock as you count the 17 dead, identifying them before they're zipped up in a body bag and taken to be examined. You notice Dr. Wells taken in a neck brace on a gurneys and many others following, tears flowing down your cheeks as you feel betrayed and hurt over a broken promise. This is the one thing you begged not to happen, and you later go to find and confront him.

When you finally meet up with him, you see him in a wheel chair, staring in the room at a patient who you knew was Barry Allen, and would some day soon become the Flash. As you come up to Dr. Wells, he wheeled himself around and his expression softens only slightly as he looks at you. "Y/n, my darling, why have you been crying?"

"You broke your promise. This wasn't supposed to happen..." you say.

"Y/n, we are making history. You get to help the Flash become the Flash! There are variables that I can't always predict, either? Everything is okay! See? He's alive. I'm alive, and so are you."

You shook you head and refused to meet his eyes. "You told me there would be injuries and that no one would die. You told me this needed to happen. That we did this for a reason but that everyone would come out stronger and survive. It makes me wonder whether you knew about all this or not, and I'm wondering what my dad is actually planning that would cause him to lie to me," you say, meeting his gaze when you finish your last statement.

"Even you, no matter how skilled you are, cannot save everyone or predict what's gonna happen next. You have to wake up and realise that not every promise is in my power to control." He turned back to Barry before continuing. "This is our chance to become a part of something. Don't you want that?" He asks and looks up at you.

A few days later, you smoothed out your dress and met up at the hospital with Dr. Wells who was now confined to his wheelchair. He smiled at you when you approached and asked, "Ready to be a part of something greater?"

You nodded with a smile and he wheeled himself in to talk to Joe. You followed a bit behind while they talked and studied Barry, wondering how someone who looked so fragile, someone who looked like they were going to die any moment was expected to become the world's fastest man alive. When Dr wells returned by your side, he nods and you and Caitlin help get him to S.T.A.R. Labs.

9 months Later

You were walking into S.T.A.R Labs and talking with Cisco about ways you could possibly wake him up, and Cyberstalking him on Facebook was a good idea. As per your conversation, Cisco puts on Poker Face by Lady Gaga, and both you and Cisco sing along while Caitlin criticizes the music, right as Barry shot up and freaked out. You stayed back as Cisco and Caitlin fussed over him for a bit, calling Dr. Wells into the Cortex as you hear, "...lightning gave me abs?"

You chuckled and see Dr. Wells enter as Barry inquires about how long he's been in a coma. "Nine months," says Dr. Wells and smiles before continuing. "We have a lot to discuss." He and Barry leave the cortex as you hang back with Caitlin and Cisco, smiling and shaking your head at them and making conversation about the way Barry was physically and mentally. Having had quite a few scares there was actually a lot to talk about. When they came in, you heard him ask about Iris.

"She talks a lot," you and Caitlin say simultaneously.

"Also, she's hot," Cisco piped up and you rolled your eyes.

" I need to go," he says and starts to the exit.

"Caitlin's right," you pop in. "We need to take more tests since you're awake and we dont even know the extent of the changes you're going through."

He shakes his head and says, "Thank you for saving my life."

"Really?" Caitlin says as he quickly walks in and asks to keep the sweatshirt.

A little while later, you were all at the airstrip, setting up for the testing Barry's speed and poking fun at Cisco for the "safety gear" he'd gotten for Barry. As Barry stepped out you bit your lip and looked away to stop from laughing really hard as Cisco explained what was gonna happen.

"So then what do you two do?" He says gesturing to you and Cisco.

"I make the toys," Cisco says proudly, explaining the gadget he was handing Barry and then they turn to you.

"I have many talents," you say with a smirk, "but I mostly provide help to Dr. Wells as we fix up S.T.A.R. Labs and annoying Cisco and Caitlin. I'm an extra perspective here to make sure things end up going smoothly."

Barry nods before turning to Caitlin. "You don't smile much," he said and you cringed as you felt your soul leave your body. /why Barry?/ you thought as he was put in his place by Caitlin, who then walks off. After being warned by Dr. Wells, Barry sets off running and you all see flashes of lightening marveling at his speed!

Until he loses focus and crashes, breaking his wrist...

Back at the lab, Caitlin explained Barry his fractures, and the amazing way they healed while Cisco commented on his needing to stop.

"We find out he has speed healing and you're concerned with him learning to stop?" You tease Cisco.

Dr. Wells talked to him about the field and asked him what made him lose focus, as he explains his story, something seems wrong, but you nod sympathetically and then Dr Wells let's him know he's one of a kind as you process what was said.

A little later, Barry bursts in angrily demanding to know if he wasn't the only person affected, and you all shared a look before Wells told him he wasn't sure.

"You said this city was safe! That there was no residual danger, but that's not true. So, what really happened that night?"

"Well... the accelerator went active, we all felt like heroes, and then... it all went wrong," Wells started as you pulled up an image of the accelerator on the screens. "It all went wrong. The dimensional barrier ruptures, unleashing unknown energies into our world. Antimatter, dark energy, X elements...'

"Those are theoretical," Barry points out and you bite your tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark, keeping your eyes on the ground.

"And how theoretical are you? We mapped the dispersion throughout and around Central City. Though we have no way of knowing exactly what or... who was exposed, we've been searching for other meta-humans like yourself," Caitlin says carefully.

"Meta-humans?"

"That's what we're calling them," you explained as Cisco commented with excitement about how cool this all was.

"This is not cool!" Barry snapped back. "A man died. Mardon must have gotten his powers the same way I did and he's still out there! We have to stop him before he hurts anyone else." He continued before starting to head out of the cortex.

"Barry, that's a job for the police," You piped in, trying not to make this worse.

"I work for the police,"he said, turning back around, and you felt like you'd made a mistake.

"As a forensic assistant," Dr. Wells replied and Barry turned on him.

"You're responsible for this. For him."

"What's important it YOU! Not me. I lost everything. I lost my company. I lost my reputation. I lost my freedom. And then you broke your arm and it healed in three hours. Inside your body could be a map to a whole new world of Genetic therapies, vaccines, medicines. Treasures buried deep within yourself and we cannot risk losing everything because you want to go out and play hero!"

Everyone was silent for a second, Dr. Wells and Barry holding a stare while you, Cisco, and Caitlyn tried not to feel too uncomfortable.

"You're not a hero. You're just a young man who was struck by lightning."

Barry looked disbelievingly at Dr. Wells before looking at the three of you to say something. When none of you did, he turned and walked out of the cortex. Everyone was quiet and then Cisco left to his workshop, Dr. Wells left to go somewhere else, Caitlin went into the lab, and you sat at the computer desk trying to get rid of the residual awkwardness left in the room.

A little while later

You, Caitlin, Cisco, and Barry were gathered around the table as Barry explained about how he was going over cases from the past 9 months and how the metas were busy. He let you know he doesn't blame any of you but he needed help catching them. Caitlin looked terrified, Cisco looked absolutely excited like he was part of his favourite show, and you schooled your expression into being neutral.

"If we're gonna do this, I have something that might help," Cisco said, and you found yourselves in the workshop as Cisco revealed a red suit and explained the all the features of the suit to Barry, and Caitlin talked about the satellites to help find Mardon, explaining the place that they picked up.

Barry then suited up and headed out as you, Caitlin, and Cisco headed into the cortex. When he arrived you and Cisco were trying to get his attention and he answered, explaining the issue of the tornado and his solution to it. You all took a second to think about it, Cisco explaining that he'd have to try and Caitlin worried he couldn't handle it.

"I have to try," Barry replied as you watched is vitals and speed.

"The suits holding up," said Cisco happily and Caitlin showed him his vitals, saying "But he's not."

"He can do this," Cisco said. "I know he can."

"You can do this, Barry," you said, at the same time Wells did. All of you looked at him in surprise as he coached Barry on how to do this after taking responsibility for all the damage.

And you all watched on screen as Barry was able to stop the tornado and Cailtin tried to get him to respond, calling his name out through the coms, until he answered and let you know he was okay.

Everyone celebrated and breathed a sigh of relief since the danger was now over.

#the flash #bad blood the fic #flash fiction #the flash imagine #barry allen x reader #barry allen #barry allen imagine #the flash x reader #harrison wells #eobard thawne #eddie thawne #caitlin snow #Caitlin snow #cisco ramon x reader #cisco ramon #arrowverse #x reader

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willandkatealways · 6 years

Text

Taken

A/N This is a different kind of Will and Kate fanfic I hope y'all like it.

Kate opened her eyes in the darkness, she had to be strong if she was going to get out of this mess. She knew they would kill her but would wait for the right time so she had to believe there was time. It looked like a warehouse of some kind. Her heart broke for her family. William would be heartbroken and she couldn't bear to think of the children. How long would it be before they killed her?

5 hours earlier

William woke up with Kate curled into him, they both had busy schedules today but these quiet moments made it worth it.

"Good morning sweetheart." He heard her soft whisper.

"Another busy day, should be done by the time the kids are out of school." Will said covering her face with kisses.

Kate sighed as she heard Charlotte running in, "Maybe to tonight." She whispered, "Lottie what have we said about knocking sweetheart?"

"I have to knock and wait to be invited in. But this was important mummy!" Charlotte exclaimed climbing onto the bed.

William chuckled, "Well what is the emergency?" He said tussling her bedhead.

"I'm hungry!" She said rubbing her tummy.

Kate smiled, "Well that is emergency! Are your brothers awake?"

Charlotte giggled as her daddy swung her into his arms, "George is playing in his room and Louis is talking to himself. He's silly."

William heard Maria calling for Charlotte, "Maria shes in here!"

Maria helped with the kids as Kate fixed a quick breakfast, she knew people would be shocked to know that she fixed her children breakfast and fixed lunches.

"You are visiting the children's hospital today correct?" Kate nodded at William as she spooned oatmeal to give Louis.

Maria was faking the children to school this morning so Kate made sure to get hugs and kisses before her team would be here to get her ready. "I love you both! Have fun today and learn lots!"

William finished feeding Louis while Kate got ready. "Just you and me kid." Louis was such a happy baby, he rarely fussed unless he had a dirty diaper but William felt that showed good sense. "Mummy is planning your first birthday, you will get cake and maybe a few presents."

He looked up when Kate walked in, she was wearing a blue overcoat with black heels and a matching hat band. "Louis isn't mummy beautiful?"

Louis looked at her and smiled his baby grin, "mamama"

Kate smiled, "thank you my handsome boys. I have to scoot but give me a kiss. I love you." She said kissing Louis head. She turned to William, "and I love you." She pressed her lips to William's, "I won't be late."

Present

William was outraged, his wife, his Kate had been taken. He would never forget the look on his protection officers face "Repeat." The man had said, his face pale and then those words, "Confirm the swan has been abducted."

William had lunged at the man, screaming at him, no matter that they were in an engagement. "Where is my wife? Where is she?"

And they hadn't known, they had taken him from the engagement and now he was on his way to Buckingham palace for his safety which he thought was crazy, they should be out finding her not worrying whether he stubbed his toe. "My children? Where are they?"

"They have been picked up and are on their way to the palace as well, they do not know."

William nodded and closed his eyes, where was she? Was she scared? If they hurt her, he trailed off he couldn't think that way.

He saw Charlotte talking a mile a minute in his father's lap, George was telling Harry about a spider at school. They were so blissfully unaware. He had to be to be strong for them, he looked around for Louis but didn't see him. "Where is Louis?" Fear clutched at him, what if he had been taken as well, then he saw Megan holding a smiling Louis, "Thank God" he murmured.

Charles forced a smile at his eldest son, "Glad you could join us son, Camillia why dont you take the children outside to play a spell?" He continued smiling as William hugged and kissed his children and ushered them out.

The second all three were out of earshot William exploded, "Where is she? I have to find her, I dont have time to sit around here!"

"Son, I know you are frustrated and upset but we have good men looking for her. You know you have to stay here." Charles tried to explain.

In his 36 years he had never come so close to hitting his father, "You cannot expect me to sit here! She needs me! She could be scared or hurt...or...no I will not lose her!" He felt Harry grab his arm and he shook it off. "Fine, if you won't help me, I will find her myself!"

He hadn't seen his grandmother and the Prime Minister walk in, "William please hear us out and then we will discuss the next steps."

Meanwhile, across town, "She is a pretty woman." The man named Rick ran his hand down her cheek, he took off the gag over mouth.

"What do you want?" She winced at how dry and sore her throat was, she had lost track of how long she had been in the dark warehouse.

"If we had time, a piece of you but we already sent your ring to the Prime Minister, do you think they know you are gone?" He seemed to enjoy taunting her, obviously he was the ringleader. So far she had counted only three men, they hadn't blind folded her, she knew they figured she would be dead before she could identify them.

Her wrists were raw from her trying to free them, "I know they know I am gone as do you." She had seen the news when they had showed her of William being led out of his engagement early, he had his public face on but she had seen the fear in his eyes.

"As soon as they give me what I want I will let you go." He said with a sneer.

"No you won't, you didn't blindfold me so you are planning to kill me. If and when you do, William will make sure you never breathe again." He grabbed her breast and she spat in his face. He slapped her and she tasted blood. She didn't react that's what they wanted.

She had to control her temper and figure out a way out of this mess.

William sat down as his grandmother did, then Teresa May handed him an envelope, "This was sent to me today, there is no way to know who it is from."

He gasped as he touched the ring, the blue sapphire sparkled, he clutched it as he opened the note.

"By now you know that we have the Duchess of Cambridge, give us what we want and she will not be harmed. Release Angus McCoy and she will be retuned. If not she dies."

"Who is Angus McCoy?" William asked, "Wait he was responsible for that bombing a few months back?" Teresa nodded.

William couldn't hear anymore, he didn't want to hear how England does not negotiate with terrorists.

He got up and began pacing, "Do you know where she is? It's been hours."

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, we have been able to pinpoint her location. Catherine's phone has a GPS tracker, apparently they took it and turned it off but now it's been turned back on. This is most likely a trap but an MI-6 team will go in and see what they can do."

William shot up, "I am going with them Granny, you cannot keep me here!"

Charles started to argue but Elizabeth shook her head, "Very well but you will abide by these rules. You will go in capacity of the pilot, you will not leave that helicopter for any reason. You must remember that other lives are at stake. I have told Captain Simpson that he is in charge and if you do not stay or try to argue he has my permission to handcuff you to the helicopter."

He looked from his grandmother to his father, he had forgotten Harry and Megan were in the room. "I understand, let me say goodbye to the children and I will be ready."

As William went into the garden, Charles turned to his mother, "Are you sure about this? What if he is captured?"

"If something happens to her, he will never forgive himself, he is a grown man and I have a feeling he will do as he's been told. He doesn't have to actually rescue her, but he needs to feel hes done something. " Honestly she wondered if it was a wise decision but Philip had convinced her.

William stood a moment watching them play, he walked to where Louis was crawling on a blanket. Louis looked so much like Kate it took his breath away. Since Louis was only a baby he could be honest. "Sweet boy, mummy is in danger but I am going to get her back. We need her don't we? I just cannot do this alone. I love you pumpkin." He kissed his cheek and gave him a cuddle. "Georgie, Lottie come here please."

"Daddy has to go on a quick trip in the helicopter but I will be back as soon as I can. Be good and help Maria with Louis." He said hugging them both tight.

George looked around, "Where is mummy? She said she would be here when we got home from school."

William hated lying, but he didn't want George to worry. "She was delayed, but she sends her love and will be home soon."

Across town, Catherine lay her phone down, a while ago she had gotten her hands free. They had left her phone out, so she had turned it on knowing the GPS would work. She hoped it was on long enough to get help and then turned it back off. She hadn't dare try to call. She put her hands behind her back as she heard footsteps down the hall. Please God let someone find me, she prayed.

The chopper was ready, William met the team and jumped in the pilot seat. The coordinates showed a warehouse still inside London city limits.

Andrew Simpson watched him, he was there with two more teammates, not a large number but if there Intel was right it was all they needed. He hoped Catherine could hold her own and not go to pieces. "Your highness" he began but was cut off by "You are going to save my wife's life please call me Will."

"Very well, Will tell me about your children? Trust me, right now you are paralyzed in fear for your wife but trust me talking about your children helps." Andrew Simpson had been through similar situations in war.

William nodded and cleared his throat, "My little girl, Lottie, people always say there's a bond between fathers and daughters and I never knew how right they were until we had her. She is our little darling, but dont let her fool you mischievous is her middle name. She is a little mother to Louis, loves to see what he is up to and help Kate with him." He was surprised to feel himself relaxing. "Louis is my baby, he is the happiest boy in the world. He looks so much like Kate. George boy he is a scamp, he really keeps us on our toes has since he was born really tests the limits sometimes but you won't find a bigger heart." He became lost in thought thinking of them, of George bringing home baby animals he swore were lost or hurt and needed care.

As they got close, Captain Andrew Simpson asked him to stay and he nodded as he landed near the warehouse. He had a weapon and knew how to shoot. "If you have a gun give it to her, she is skilled at shooting."

He watched as the team ran towards the warehouse. It killed him to stay but he knew he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Please God she has to be okay.

Catherine heard the gunshots, she tried to get a low as she could. She prayed someone was coming. Rick grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back holding a gun to her head. "I will blow your brains out princess." He sneered.

There was a pop and he fell, she looked in horror as blood poured around him. "Your highness, I am Captain Andrew Simpson, let's get out of here. Will said you could shoot, please carry this. Anything happens keep running when you get outside you'll hear the chopper run to it."

Kate nodded and grabbed her phone, she didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands.

The chopper was in the parking lot next door and she saw with a gasp her husband sitting inside.

Will turned to look, he almost couldn't believe it, he jumped from the helicopter and ran to her, "Kate oh baby thank God you are okay!" He held her in his arms until he realized there was an audience and he needed to get her to safety.

When Catherine woke up she knew she was in the hospital, she heard the beeping from the machine next to her. She looked over and saw William on the phone. When he saw her he hung up, "Hey baby how are you? They are going to release you soon. You have been asleep over 48 hours."

While she had slept William had finally taken a moment to look at her, he saw the bruises on her face and her cut lip. Her wrists were raw and bloody, rage filled him. If the scum wasn't head he would kill him.

Now she was awake and kept watching him, "The children?" He smiled of course she was more concerned about them.

"George knows a bad man hurt you but that I and a team of soldiers rescued you. Charlotte knows you were hurt but okay. Louis is blissfully unaware of anything." Will had told the kids that morning when Pippa had come to stay with Kate.

Tears filled her eyes, "oh Billy I was so scared. I thought I would never see you and the children again." She cried clinging to him.

"I know sweetheart, I was scared too but you are safe now. I love you always." They held one another as dawn broke. The bruises would fade but together they could overcome anything.

A/N hope y'all liked it!

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thirium-coffee · 6 years

Text

Gift From Eli

Short Snippet from a Convin Roleplay. Summary of Roleplay An AU in which Elijah made Connor specifically for Gavin as an apology for being a horrible brother and that maybe, just maybe, it might mend broken relationships. An excuse Kamski used for the gift, is Gavin's promotion as a Detective.

Detective Fuck Boy: Me Slut Sent By Cyberlife: @detroit-becomeslut

Detective Fuck Boy Here's the thing with Gavin. People thinks he loves sleeping, often seen passed out in his desk at work. When actually, he just has bad sleeping schedule, undiagnosed insomnia, and fucking noisy neighbors that ranges from college students partying to divouring adults that found themselves nearly having a screaming contest each night.

And tonight, after he manages a thirty minute sleep, it was a surprise that greeted him. There weren't awful dub music or shattering glasses that could be heard, what greeted Gavin were the lewd noises of two people moaning and groaning and a shitload amount of dirty talk and the words, he shudders, daddy.

He didn't hesitate to retreat out of his room, and thank fucking god, he was safe now in the living room.

Or so he thought as he was reminded of his Android sleeping peacefully on his couch. There wasn't any amount of guilt in his system as shakes Connor awake. He had work, and Connor can always sleep while he's gone.

"Hey, buddy, wake up. Just- look ya don't even have to leave. Just scoot over a little and let me pass out."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor looked startled and drowsy as he was awoken from stasis, LED turning yellow before he shifted over. Even though he was taller than him, he was quite petite.

He didn’t have as much muscle definition as some other Androids, but he was definitely toned. Connor yawned as he buried the side of his face into the pillows.

Even though he wasn’t human, he moved much like one did when they were tired, waiting for Gavin to join him as his LED turned blue.

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin dropped down beside Connor, not really caring he's practically sleeping beside an Android but if it means he'll get more rest then fuck it, he'll take it.

He did, however, noticed it's odd how they just... fit together perfectly in his little couch. Okay maybe his couch is actually bigger than normal, it's how he bought it, since Gavin knows he'll spend a lot of nights sleeping in it, but still.... it was weird. When he had exes and they sleep here, it never happens, it fails. Just not comfortable yet here he is, actually falling asleep despite the body beside him.

And a third party enters as Lucky settle in between their legs.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor gave a sleepy giggle as Lucky giggled. He was soon back into stasis, sleeping soundly next to Gavin. His chest moved up and down, a soft breath leaving his nose.

He even breathed like a human even though he didn’t really need the oxygen. Yet another small feature that Kamski added.

Detective FUCK BOY Connor's breathing was settling into a rhythm that slowly lull Gavin to sleep.

He ended up having a dream that didn't involved the smell of blood or a knife going through his neck, instead he had a dream of blue fireflies and a pair of brown eyes, staring rather lovingly at him.

When Gavin stirred awake, blinking his eyes open, he was met with inches away from a person's face.

He screamed, and shoved, and fell. Head hitting the coffee table as his legs got left hanging to the couch.

"Fuck!" he tightly shuts his eyes, rubbing the soreness and fucking hell, that hurt.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor was startled awake when he was shoved, wincing a little as he got up.

“Detective-“ Connor immediately helped him up and raced to get him pain killers and an ice pack.

Detective FUCK BOY "Hey, no, I'm fine- fuck it." He drops to the couch, sighing. Leaning on his elbows and covering his face with his hands.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor came back, a worried expression on his face. He crouched neck to him, resting a hand on his knee.

“Detective? I apologize for scaring you-“

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin sighed then leaned on the couch, arms crossing, "Sit down on the couch, let's talk for a minute."

He can't believe he's doing this. He fucking can't believe he's doing this.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor did as he was told, setting the painkillers and ice pack down.

“Yes, Detective Reed..?” He even sounded nervous as those brown eyes stared up at him.

Detective FUCK BOY Why did Eli had to place him in a situation like this?

"You're right about the fact we should just make this experience a little less shitty, 'cause like it or not. We're stuck together, so hell, let's do it."

He faces Connor, feeling a little like Tyler Durden announcing the rules of Fight Club.

"First of all, don't call me Detective. Gavin's fine. You're inside my fucking apartment not in the precinct. And you're just begging to be bullied. Not exactly a good cop, keep that in mind if you wanna be less hostile with each other.

Second of all," he had to briefly close his eyes, not really wanting to voice it out but... he looks at Connor, "Don't. Just don't. I'm not gonna hurt you... you look fucking pathetic always cowering away and apologizing to me, when- you get it, alright. Just don't.

And third of all, stop babysitting me. I hate it. I really fucking hate it. You don't have to worry or shit or be a maid. Pretend that you're my roommate. Surf the internet, use my Netflix subscription, read my books, I don't care.

Got it?"

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor seemed to lag, like he was buffering and struggling to comprehend what the other said.

“A..Alright Gavin...” The word was foreign and soft on his tongue, like an infant trying to say its first word.

“Though I don’t know what to do with myself. As an Android, I am built to take tasks and do as I am told, not to be free willed. It’s strange to be told to deviate from my specific purpose.”

His eyes flickered up to look at Gavin.

“I know you do not want to be taken care of, but if I am going to be considered like your roommate, may I at least help lessen any stress here? I can at least do minor things like do groceries and cook meals in return for you even keeping me here.”

Detective FUCK BOY "Yeah, sure. If it makes you happy."

Gavin nodded and was about to stand up, when he remembered something, "Oh yeah one last thing. You have any preference in clothing?"

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “I do not have any preference as I am expected to wear my uniform to identify that I am indeed an Android.”

Detective FUCK BOY "Cool..." he said it boredly and just stood up.

It was times like this that Gavin wished he had a best friend to talk to, just to rant about the stupid Android in his house or help him decide what kind of clothing he'd go buy for Connor.

Instead, he was left on his own to deal with this Android and shit fucking shit. He's slowly beginning to realize more why Eli have given him Connor.

When Gavin came back that evening, he dropped the gray hoodie and black sweatpants on the couch, and had to mentally slap himself as he looks at Connor.

"What are you doing?"

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor had been in the middle of playfully pinning Lucky. She was lying on her back with Connor pinning her front legs down while she stretched.

“We were playing.” He said it like it was obvious before letting Lucky go and watching her run off with a soft purr as she returned to her food. Connor got up and dust himself off.

“What are the clothes for, Gavin?”

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin is horrified. Eli had given him a new pet, a dog. It made sense, it's why Lucky likes him.

"It's for you."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “Oh.” He picked the clothes up before examining them. Suddenly, a smile broke out on his face.

“Thank you, Gavin. I rather like these. Would you mind if I change into these now?”

Detective FUCK BOY "What do you think was the purpose of me giving you that shit early?"

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “I see. My apologies.” The faintest of blue could be seen on his cheeks as he entered the bathroom quietly. After a few minutes, he came out in the new clothes, uniform folded neatly in his arms. The clothes were a bit baggy on him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Do they.. look alright?”

Detective FUCK BOY "Fucking better." And Gavin broke into a grin, his hand open, asking for Connor's uniform.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor took a moment before realizing what he wanted. He handed him the outfit, a confused expression on his face.

Detective FUCK BOY "You're not attach to this, right?" Gavin said as he starts walking to his window, taking the LED band from the uniform.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “Not entirely, but I still need identification that I am an Android, Gavin-“

Detective FUCK BOY "And goodbye motherfucker!" He says, happily throwing the uniform out the window.

He stands beside Connor, smiling at the flying uniform in the sky, then he looks at the Android, "What?"

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor’s mouth was agape, and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to figure some sort of response.

“G-Gavin— I needed that-“

Detective FUCK BOY "Not anymore."

Gavin tosses the LED band go Connor, smirking, "That's enough identification. Trust me. You don't need that ugly white uniform. Gray suits you well more."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “I..”

Software Instability ^

“..Alright..” He didn’t sound totally convinced as he slid his arm band on. Suddenly, there was an action that no android had done before. A nervous tick of lip biting.

Connor brought his plush, lower lip between his teeth absentmindedly and chewed on it as he tried to fully process what happened.

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin would be lying if he isn't finding this ordeal fun. "So what's for dinner?"

Gavin was staring at the ceiling, feeling the tiredness of his eyes intensifies as the seconds grew, and even though he had brought up music to try and silent the noises from next door, my fucking god was this bitch having a good time did her moans grew louder and louder and, Gavin's a little sad he can't hear Alex Turner's voice anymore.

He decided to grab the comforter this time as he heads into the living room. "Hey."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor was curled up on the catch, cuddling with Lucky. He looked up and tilted his head curiously.

“Hello. What are you doing up so late, Gavin?” He had thought the other had went to bed hours ago, reading his internal clock to see it was 1 AM.

Connor had played something quiet to break the silence, a random movie that he wasn’t really interested in playing in the background.

Detective FUCK BOY "Do you mind scooting over? My neighbors are trying to make a new kid next door, and I need to sleep."

He glances Luck a look of betrayal. So that's why she's not in his room, when normally she cuddles with Gavin. Wow.

Slut Sent By Cyberlife It took Connor a moment to understand what he meant before giving him a quick nod.

“Of course-“ He moved over, Lucky jumping away to curl up on the arm of the couch and watch the two.

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin settled down on the space, wrapping the blanket around him. He turns around, not facing Connor and just starts closing his eyes.

But then he found himself, twisting and turning every few seconds and shit, he's gonna be awake for the next thirty minutes, isn't he?

He exhales, looking back at the ceiling. He needed to waste energy and distract himself, just allow sleep to take over instead of forcing it but the thing is, he forgotten his phone in the bedroom, and he was too lazy to retrieve it.

He probably would never do this fully awake, but right now? His sleep-derived thoughts aren't working anymore, and next thing he knows, he started talking.

"Honestly I don't know who's she's having sex with anymore."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife Connor was surprised Gavin was talking with him, and Connor gave a shrug.

“From what little I know, I assume it must be the young man I’ve seen enter her apartment.”

Detective FUCK BOY "Derek must have been gone for the week then. Could only explain why Annabell's doing the nasty. Derek and Annabell are siblings. Derek's been living in that apartment nearly as long as i've been here. Annabell? About four years ago, after she graduated college.

Don't know much about them but they're nice. Kind of weird, especially Annabell. She's the type that looks prim and conserve but trust me, she likes bad boys." He smirks, looking at Connor, "She actually asked me out once when I was on my motorcycle."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “Ah.” He then furrowed his brows at the comment about her asking him out. A strange feeling blossomed in his chest at that comment.

Software Instability ^

“It’s illogical to assume you are a “bad boy” just because you ride a motorcycle. A fallacy in reality, honestly. You seem like a rather good man to me.”

Detective FUCK BOY "Seem.. like a rather... yeah, giving a lot of confidence that i'm a good guy here, tin can."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “I apologize, but I’ve only known you for a few days. Though, from how well you treat your cat, I can already tell that you are kind.”

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin gazes up above him, on the sleeping Maine Coon, "Fucking traitor."

He then snorts, as he turns to the side, pulling the blanket near him, "Yeah, well, try not to judge people base on their actions to others. I might be nice to my cat, does't mean i'm nice others. Luck's my cat, it would make sense why I should treat her right."

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “But, humans react to animals, much like they would children. I can tell you probably sympathize with children, especially if they’re victims. And you may not like others, but it doesn’t make you horrible.

After all, you don’t really like me, but unlike other humans who don’t like Androids, you’ve never attempted to truly hurt me or intimidate me much.”

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin looked over his shoulder at Connor. How the fuck did this piece of shit managed to look through his layers with just spending two days with him?

When Eli had spend years with him and yet, couldn't even go pass the first layer.

"Don't read too much into it. You'll end up overheating." he looks back ahead,

Slut Sent By Cyberlife “Perhaps I wouldn’t mind overheating if it lets me learn more about you. After all, you’re one of the few fascinating people I’ve met. Everyone else I’ve seen, encountered, they all hold an underlying motive, a front they hide behind.”

He gently brushed fingers with Gavin, though it was unclear if it was an accident or on purpose.

“You’re one of the few who don’t feel the need to hide them self.”

Detective FUCK BOY Gavin didn't dare to look behind him, just kept curling on his blanket, and just muttered a quiet, "Night, Tin Can."

That night, Gavin dreamt of sitting on his motorcycle while a pair of arms were hugging his waist. He couldn't see the person behind him, their brown hair the only thing poking out as their bury their face on Gavin's shoulder, but what struck to him most, where the fabric on his arms.

They were wearing a gray hoodie.

#[ Greedy Post RP ]#[ Greedy ]#convin #reed800

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the-queer-look · 5 years

Text

Motor Bi-Cycling

Not everyone who identifies as LGBTQIA+ is heavily engaged in our community. Many of us quietly get along with our lives without engaging to a great extent in what we know as queer culture. Not being particularly engaged in the community doesn’t make anyone less a part of it though, our community is a vast mosaic of different peoples and cultures. And everyone can determine their own level of engagement.

- K

Name: Rachel

Age: 27

Occupation: Mental Health Policy Consultant

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Location: Waterloo

Although I am a cisgendered woman, I don’t fit entirely into gendered stereotypes, because no one does, and the idea that we have to is ludicrous. For example, although I’m cisgendered, I ride a motorcycle, which is seen to be very masculine. I chose the motorbike that I have because the service that I got at that particular shop was the best. When I first went shopping for a motorcycle, I took my friend John with me, and whenever I would ask a question about the bike that I wanted, they would answer the question to John, rather than to me, and everywhere we went, the male customer service reps would treat me like I was a complete idiot. Going in to by equipment for my bike now, I’m assumed to be either gay, or an idiot. If you’re gay, the staff members have no interest in talking to you. But if you’re an idiot, they can at least sell you something, which I have absolutely taken advantage of from time to time by walking in and pretending not to know how to change my oil filter, so they change it for me for free because I act dumb and cute. I can change my own damn oil filter, but after having dealt with the level of sexism in the motorcycle community for years, I’m going to take advantage of it to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I can safely say that the level of sexism that I’ve received in the motorcycle community is greater than I’ve encountered anywhere else. When I bought the jacket that I wear on my bike now, I had to put up with the attendant telling me for ten minutes how great the jacket was, because when girls wear it he gets to stare down their cleavage, but when you want a girls motorbike jacket, it’s either that, or in pink, and I’m kind of stuck to my soft goth aesthetic. And you’d think it’d just be the one or two bad apples, but it was every place I went to, except the shop that I bought my bike at. They actually spoke to me, about my bike, without sexualising me, or making me feel different and unwelcome, it was really nice.

The first time that I kissed a girl, I was thirteen... We went to church together. It was in church, it was very cute, but neither of us were particularly religious, though her family was. My family wasn’t, but all of my friends went to that church, so I did too. I dont think I took it, or what I felt too seriously, I remember hearing all my life “it’s just a phase” because that’s all it ever is right? So I didn’t take it seriously until I was eighteen or nineteen and actually started sleeping with women and went “oh… maybe women are pretty great, because this is alright”. So I came out to my parents twice. Once when I was thirteen, after kissing that girl in church, and then again when I was about twenty six, just sitting them down to say “Hey guys, that phase? It’s entered a new phase called having a girlfriend… This is Kate” *laughs*

I definitely didn’t come to terms with my bisexuality when I was thirteen, I genuinely thought that my parents were right, and it was just a phase, just a thing I was doing to get the attention of men. I don’t think it ever made me question my gender, or pressured to present and dress myself differently. However once I started to move towards more queer spaces, and having a lot more queer friends, that’s when I started to feel that I didn’t fit in. I think I’ve hit this point where I feel too queer to be around my straight friends, too straight to be around my queer friends, and although my wardrobe is almost entirely black, that’s not enough to make me feel like I fit in with my goth friends.

What was interesting was that I started coming to terms with my bisexuality at about the time that I started going to fashion school, which I haven’t continued with because oh boy. I felt like I couldn’t wear all black all the time at fashion school because… well it was fashion school? So I was trying to wear colours all the time, and… lets just say that it didn’t stick. I’d gotten into this habit of wearing all black when I was a teenager to try to stop myself standing out so much. The loud colours that I wore trying to fit in at fashion school made me too uncomfortable, and I fell back on my blacks again. I realise now that wearing black all the time doesn’t make me blend in, because I wear it literally all the time. You’ll see me wear all black every day for a month and not think about it, until one day I wear white and you’ll go “oh fuck that’s a colour! Wait! You only ever wear black!” But even though it isn’t a help with not standing out, it just… feels more natural after all this time.

I feel that there’s a reason for more well known, generic fashion stereotypes for queer people. And I feel that they are useful for people who are learning to dress for their newly aware queer selves, and it gives them a good basis to work from. But I don’t think that those stereotypes are solid enough that I, as a member of the Queer community, can look at people and in an instant tell what they identify as. But as far as the stereotype that lesbians own cats- Everyone owns cats! they’re wonderful! Shut up!

I think that both representation of LGBT people, and the definition of queer fashion, is broadening, which is really good, as it allows people who are still coming to terms with their queerness, but dont necessarily fall into those older stereotypes of queer presentation to find themselves, and present themselves in a way that is more authentically them. It isn’t as broad as I’d like it to be, but it is definitely on the way.

full gallery available on facebook

please get in contact with us if you would like to take part!

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rainbowdoom32 · 6 years

Text

So I'm going to start identifying myself as aspec. Previously I identified as a bisexual aromantic but upon furthur consideration I might be asexual.

I'm posting about this b/c 1) it puts it out there and makes the lable feel more real and tangible

2) I know some of y'all IRL or on a personal enough basis that I feel you should know

3) A queers need more visibilty in gen

4) cause I want to talk abouy it

So Idk how to do a read more and am on mobile so if you dont want to hear about what being aspec means to me start scrolling now

So. In the aspec community (do we have a better word?) theres an overwhelming discourse about sexual and romantic repulsion. For those of you who dont know thats when the idea of sex , sexual content, sex itself, the idea of romance, romantic gestures, and/or romantic content acts as a squick for you it creates some spectrum of a revulsion in you to be confronted with one or more of these things. Its an overwhelming discourse for many reasons but the one I want to talk about is that it makes it obvious that your ace or aro if your repulsed by sex or romance. The process for discovering your aspec identity is easier in a way, specifically in a way it isnt for me.

See I dont experience sexual or romantic repulsion. I like romance stories and porn. I actively seek these things out. I'm not put off by discussions of others romantic or sexual lives (specific aspects may repulse me but in general I'm interested in these especially when coming from people I care about). So naturally as a teenager I never considered myself as aspec. i considered myself bisexual almost immediatly (there was a thing where I thought I was tricking myself into thinking I liked women to be included in the queer community. More on that later) it took two very short very middle school esque (one took place my sophmore year) relationships and an accidental internet encounter with the concept of aromantisim for me to realise that the reason this wasnt working for me was because I didnt really want it.

The more I thought of myself as aro the more things made sense. At the slumber parties as a kid I never had a crush to confess. Those two failed relationshios? Guy friends I'd gotten real close to and thought my new stronger friendship feelings must be what romantic attraction feels like. Also the real sticker, I dont get jealousy in romance at all. Like that one goes over my head. I dont understand why cheating is the worst thing someone can do in a relationship to the point that people who've been sucked into a cycle of abuse and have become convinced everything is their fault will snap when they discover they were cheated on. That is absolutly mind boggling for me.

The point of that is I never got that ew ick romance feeling. As a reult the road to discovering I was aromantic was long and and full of doubt. Doubt that went along the lines of "Maybe I just havent found the right person". Which also happens to be the exact thing my mum says to me everytime I try to explain that Im aromantic to her. Bisexuality she understands and accepts. This she doesnt. So even though I know intellectually theres no right person for me that niggling doubt remains andit haunts me.

Now im going to devolve a bit here and I know what this sounds like but im seriously not trying to be offensive just explain something

See I read a fanfic recently. I dont remeber how I found it but it was a Stony fic and the story and the set up were very romantic cliche. Basically Steve was Tony's booty call it evolves to friends with benefits Steve falls in love. Textbook stuff. But see theres a wrench because the author identifies as aromantic is with the definition we have aromantic. They write their identity onto Tony. Thats something we do in fanfic and in writing. But the problem I ran into is this: the author identifies as aromantic because they experience romantic repulsion(yes they told me this) so in the fic Tony is in love with Steve but experiences romantic repulsion. The idea of romance of romantic commitment makes him anxious and sick. This is how the author feels FWB allows them to experience intimacy without triggering their repulsion. Identifying as atomantic makes them feel not broken. This so good right? This is why we have labels

Except. When I read this part of the story it hurt me. Directly. See Tong Stark has Daddy Issues. Ehen the author wrote about Tony's romantic repulsion narritevly they tied it into Tony's not nice childhood. I dont know specifically why it wasnt part of thwir explanation when I told them their story hurt me. I didnt ask. But this narritive decision made what was essentially was an author expressing their experience as an aromantic in a story feel like a personal attack against my aromantic identity.

See when I read that what I read was "Tony Stark cant commit to an actual relationship with Steve Rogers because Howard Starks Grade A parenting fucked up his ability to recieve expressions of love and his ability to commit. Tony Stark is in romantic love with Steve Rogers but his childhood trauma prevents him from expresing it in the traditional manner this is what being aromantic is"

That hurt. Because it hit that little doubt in my head about not having met the "right person" and mixed it up with some childhood trauma made you a broken person. It also hit me while I felt safe. Romance stories are my escapism. Their like an extra element of fantasy in a story for me. I specifically seek out romantic stories as a comforting mechanism. Fanfics in particular because of their inclusivity. I was in my safe space, and I was whammed in a sore spot.

The problem is though the author has a right to that story and that label and to express themselves. We usually draw the line at self expression where it hurts other people but thats not what happened here. What happened here was definitial confusion. The author and I were using "aromantic" to describe two different but similar romantic orientations. In doing so we hurt each other ironically in the same way. We both said to each other "Your identity is wrong and toxic you hurt people and yourself by expressing it the way you do". (I left a comment saying how her story affected me)

When I say I'm aromantic I mean I experience no romantic feelings. None nada zilch. The idea that I might one day experience a type of romantic feeling is an aggression against me. The same way the idea that gay people can choose to be straight is an aggression against being gay.

But I can't invalidate someone else to protect myself. What do I do? I dont want to hurt myself and I dont want to hurt other people? Idk

And now to why I no longer identify as bisexual.

I'm a virgin. Because most peoples first time is with someone their in a romantic relationship with. And we'll I dont do that. Im also a socially anxious person. I have no idea how to instogate a sexual encounter and honeslty I wouldnt feel comftorable dping it with someone I couldnt trust or alternatively someone I'm friends with and would have to continue being juat friends with in post we had sex awkwardness. So ive never had an opportunity to have sex.

But I also havent sought them out. And I dont feel particularly driven to. These are reasons to think your asexual but I'm sure it's also the experience of many introverted and secually awkawrd people. And it's not like I couldnt have sex at some future point. Even now if an opportunity arose I might say yes, of only to confirm my asexuality.

The thing that has made me actually consider if I'm ace tho is a weird quirk of mine. I cant get off to prom videos. I use lit erotica. Why? Cause the idea that those are real live people puts me off. Porn stars and amateur porn makers know people get off watching their videos. Theyre okay with that. But I'm not. At all. Thats a big ol nope for me.

See I'm a ciswoman. Which means I have a clitoris. An organ whose only purpose is to provide pleasure. As everyone knows reciving pleasure via the clit requires no participation by a second person. The fact that my clitiros functions as intended and that I use it isnt sexual attraction.

Thats a new idea for me. But it's true isnt it? Sexual attraction is about other people. And sure I can appreciate other people's hotness. But just because I think a horse is pretty doesnt mean I want to fuck it. Remeber that thing about thinking I was faking bisexuality?? I was right. I wasnt sexually attracted to women. But what I hadnt bothered to consider because of heteronormativity was that I wasnt sexually attracted to men either.

Other fun fact in case you might be an ace person who's read this far (why? Also hi Katie and possibly Sadie but definelty Nishat. No im not implying any of you are ace) I dont have sex dreams. But I do have dreams in which I masturbate. So stick that jn your pipe and smoke it.

Anyways these are all experinces that I have that I feel neccessry to share to make it so the repulsion story isnt the only one out there. And also to start a discourse about how experiencing and not experiencing repulsion affect aspec experience. Thanks for reading!

#aro #ace #aromantic #aromantism #asexuality #aspec #lgbt #lgbtqa

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haonqq · 7 years

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30 Day Yinro Challenge: Day 1-9

All of this ended up longer than intended so its 9 days under the cut lmao

1. the basics: introduce us to your watcher!

You enter the walls of Caed Nua, met with the sight of milling guests and locals alike, small market stalls lined up. It almost appears akin to a small village, people going about their business, be it building, shopping, watching the speech in the foyer you can’t quite hear from your distance, or perhaps attending worship in the small, homely church. It certainly wasn’t what you’d expected from all of the ghastly descriptions of the place from merely a year ago. You peel your eyes from the sight and make your way towards the Great Hall, but as you approach, looking like one to proposition the local thayn, a guard stops you. “You won’t be findin’ him in there.” She gestures behind her at the large door, cracked slightly but seemingly empty. “This time a’day he’s usually out by Brighthollow, working in the garden or cookin’. If he hasn’t been stolen off to help out with some other chore.” What she’s saying doesn’t quite make sense, and you aren’t inclined to believe her, but follow her directions back towards this ‘Brighthollow’. Passing through a few groups of gossiping locals, you find the building matching her description and look around. Nobody seems to be in the garden, though it does seem recently tended. The kitchen seems to be your next stop, but as you make your way towards the door, you hear something like a curse above you. Squinting up into the afternoon sky, you manage to spot a shingle as it slides off the edge of the roof, managing to move out of the way just in time to avoid it landing on you. You look up again to see an elf. You blink again, having not believed the rumors of a pale elf being the new thayn and owner of Caed Nua. “Oh, gods, sorry! Did it hit you? I should have been more careful, slipped right between my hands!” He looks as apologetic as he sounds, wiping a wrist along his forehead, thin locks of strawberry dusted pale hair sticking to the sweat on his face and neck. “Here, let me just-” And within a moment he’s down the ladder and in front of you, checking you over carefully before wiping a fleck of dirt off your shoulder, then clapping his hand there. “There we go, good as new!” It was harder to hear from above, but its clear he isn’t from the Dyrwood. Rauatain, if your memory is to be trusted, but he speaks Aedyran clearly enough. He smiles as he looks you over, crow’s feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes and it’s only now you notice their striking pink color. “Ah, my apologies, Yinro Manaaki, Thayn and Lord of Caed Nua at your service. I take it you’re here to speak with me?” He starts out maintaining eye contact with you, but as he continues on he squats down to pick up the bits of broken shingle from the ground before standing again. You nod your affirmation, though you’re not sure what to make of him. He seems genuine enough, and the name matches. He smiles again, so genuinely you can tell everything he’s telling you is the truth. “You have excellent timing, I was just finishing up fixing the roof.” He disposes of the shingle pieces and wipes his hands on his pants, already dirty from previous wear. Then he gestures forward and takes a step towards the Great Hall, waiting on your before moving along, keeping at your pace. “So, what is it I can do for you?”

2. appearance: what race is your watcher? what do they look like? any scars, tattoos, or markings?

(photo by @riessene because its just,,, so good im cry)

I touched on a few things in the fancy dancy intro but! He’s a pale elf with strawberry blonde hair(though its on the lighter side) and of the lighter blue skin variety. Naturally, he’s covered in those white freckles because i love them He has two prominent scars, both on his face

The first is the scar on his mouth, which crosses both lips. While in a,, disagreement fight with his older adopted brother Branwen, there was always some shoving and punching and the like, but Branwen got a solid hit on him and Yinro managed to catch his face on something sharp and it just sliced through his lip and its healed but never really gone away,, The other is on his cheek, down to his jaw and he actually got this one when he met Aloth! Unable to talk the drunks down, Yinro assisted Aloth with taking them out for their safety and managed to catch one of the weapons on his cheek since he’s an idiot and doesnt use weapons when he fights and with everything going on with lack of sleep and all its unlikely it healed to full capacity and so it will remain for all his days

(im debating on one over his eyebrow at the beginning of Deadfire but that depends on how That starts exactly also debated on a tattoo but lbr i forget his scars all the time im good lmao)

3. personality & alignment: give us a look into your watcher’s personality! you can use theirmyers briggs type, d&d morality alignment, or just describe their motives and quirks.

As a start, Yinro is bordering the Neutral/Chaotic Good alignment, sticking closer to the Trying to keep lawful, but also following his own moral compass as to whether the Law is truly Good. He is however a supremely good person and tries to remain as honest as possible without putting someone in danger that doesnt need to be. While he is, as Eder put it, the type to “get involved”, in cases where the punishment seems deserved he won’t step in. However, while he does genuinely try to be good and make good decisions, part of it is attempting to make up for past wrongs and trying not to dip back into bad habits. He also has problems, because of that and misunderstanding teachings, avoids his anger. He used to let his anger pretty much control him, back when he was first adopted, and made a lot of trouble for people who didnt deserve it. He was supposed to be learning to control his anger and work with it and not let it control him, but ended up suppressing it in the long run. (which is going to be a primary Personal Conflict in Deadfire cause BOY is he pissed). But ultimately he’s a benevolent person and believes the best of everyone and believes that anyone can make up for their mistakes in the long run if they’re willing to try.

4. sexuality & gender: how does your watcher identify? is this important to them, or have they never given it much thought?

Gender hasn’t really been much of a focus for Yinro and he’s never really given it much thought. He probably thought about it a bit when literally soul searching provided his previous life was a woman, and if he didn’t already view gender as more of a biological thing than a soul bound thing or important at all, he’d probably be more fluid but he’s comfortable identifying as a man in this life.

Yinro is strictly attracted to men, both romantically and sexually, and is pretty important to him. While I dont think Rauatai in particular is against same-sex relationships, I think in his mind considering before being moved there he only lived with his mother and didn’t really interact with much anyone else he probably heard a lot about het relationships moreso thank gay ones and so when he got to a romantically interested age, he had that barrier of ‘but I SHOULD like women’ when realistically he was repulsed at the idea. It was a big part of realizing who he is and is much more important to him than gender.

This being said, he is a very touchy person (touchy being like. Physically touching peple, he enjoys physical contact) and isn’t opposed to being as touchy with female friends as long as they’re aware theres no romantic inclination there.

5. background: what’s your watcher’s culture and background? tell us a bit about their life before traveling to the dyrwood!

Yinro spent the first 20 years of his life in The White That Wends living a nomadic life with his biological mother. His father was still alive, but the relationship with his mother was purely to produce a child for her. She was a hunter, and decided clan life wasn’t for her, and so that was where Yinro grew up. An unfortunate accident after being ambushed by slavers hampered her mobility, and ultimately resulted in her death in an avalanche. This left Yinro travelling alone with no hint as to where a clan may be or really anyone at all. He lasted alright, knowing how to hunt and survive there, but that didn’t prepare him for the slavers catching up, trapping him and ‘escorting’ him to Rauatai for selling. He didn’t spend long in servitude but it was enough to twist his sorrow from losing his mother into an anger that would permeate the next 10 years of his life. Naturally when he managed to escape servitude, he was a scourge of the streets. Petty theft, shakedowns, anything to get by. After he was picked up by a kind dwarven woman with a knack for picking up troubled youth and adopting them named Vianna Manaaki, this behavior continued until he met his mentor. His mentor really kicked him a new one, but became almost like a father figure to him, even if he was temporary. After that, Yinro began to shape up and make amends for his previous wrongs and becoming a role model for his younger siblings and gaining some semblance of a normal siblinghood with Branwen, though the resentment for the trouble Yinro caused his mother was still there. He began making amends to a local tavern owner by washing his dishes, steadily becoming more and more interested in cooking while watching him in the kitchens. Over time, the owner began working with him to the point that Yinro was a full fledged assistant chef. Once the management changed, Yinro decided that was his time to set out and find somewhere he could really call his, always feeling a bit outcast. He set out for the Dyrwood after hearing about cheap land, hoping to find an inexpensive place to live and settle down and make a living off cooking. Then we find him with the caravan and WELL,, chefing didn’t work out.

Due to him spending a majority of his life in Rauatai, I went with the Rauatain Laborer background, though he does still follow some TWTW culturally, he’s more in tune with Rauatain (initially he was a drifter but ultimately didn’t fit with his bg)

6. family: who does your watcher consider family? do they place more importance on blood relatives or found family? do they keep in touch after traveling to the dyrwood?

Yinro always considers his birth mother family, but considers his adopted family (even Branwen) just as much family as she was. (guess who’s got nine fucking adoptive siblings, though two are older than Yinro) And while he does consider his companions family as well, there’s a different context, familial but definitely more on the ‘found family’ variety, whereas adoptive family are basically blood relatives in his his eyes. He was doing well keeping in contact with them on his way and at the beginning of the trip, but as things got more hectic and he got more tired, he didn’t want to worry them so he sent one final letter reassuring them that he was just getting busy and wouldn’t be in contact for a while. He has since resumed regular contact post-game.

7. stats & class: give us a rundown of those sweet, sweet base stats. do they line up with how you envision your watcher from a roleplay standpoint, or are they more gameplay based? do they line up with your watcher’s race and class? how did they begin training in their chosen class? (bonus! will they be multi-classing in deadfire?)

Not technically the stats i used in game, since these are from one of the replays with the laborer bg and more context to what the stats actually do. I try to stick closer to a roleplaying form rather than gameplay, but try to keep a clooose balance between the two, making it possible to do the things I want Yinro to be able to do as well as keep close to how he actually is. I think he is not nearly as perceptive or smart as the average elf assumedly is, he’s a lil bumpkin with no formal education but he’s not stupid either. I thinkkk its pretty good Monk stats though (okay he DOES have perception but he’s too much of a dingus to do anything about what he sees) I briefly touched on it in the bg question, but! (okay im changing how they met right now because i just came up with a better idea here we go lmao) Yinro was shaking some people down late at night, when his master(monk master/teacher is what i mean by master in this story) walks by. Of course, being in this part of town for a while he’s heard of Yinro, little shits got a rep. He waps Yinro over the back of the head with a his staff, knocking him down and dazing him, letting the two he was shaking down go but turning back to Yinro is able to recognize the pain and and anger behind his actions. Gives him two options: get turned over to the guard(again), or become his pupil and move past this. Yinro, conflicted but also WANTING to change and grow, took him up on the offer. And so for the next couple years he trained him in both combat and discipline, and Yinro stopped being so much of a little shit.

The plan IS for him to multiclass, but I’m not sure if I want him to be a Shadowdancer or a Brawler,,

8. fighting style & gear: what weapons and armor does your watcher use? are there any talents/abilities that they favor in combat? are there any that they refrain from using, for moral reasons or otherwise? (bonus! will they choose a sub-class in deadfire?)

A good portion of the game I had him in medium armor, but realistically he’s more likely to wear light armor(aka basically,, regular clothes,, with maybe a leather vest, MAYBE) He also didn’t use any weapons, depending purely on his little gay hands, though come Deadfire he’s realised that,, maybe he should,, use weapons and right now I have him using a sword/sabre in his main hand and dagger/stiletto in his off hand but thats subject to change depending on subclass and how viable monk is Debating on the Shattered Pillar subclass for monk, but Im not sure about a multiclass subclass (maybe avoid a subclass for one for simplicity’s sake)

9. reputations: what are your watcher’s dispositions? do they line up with how you envision your watcher? what are your watcher’s reputations? do they work to maintain any reputations, either good or bad?

Remember how i said Yinro was a good boy? When have I EVER lied to you?? I will say I didn’t play with dispositions on so a lot of the stoic options (esp the Hiravias one with the raw meat. Also Yinro would eat raw meat just not That Part) I was playing off for comedic effect which is. Really funny if you consider Yinro just being bad at jokes

Reputation wise he didn’t explicitly try for anyone to like him besides the Crucible Knights and that was so he could get into the peace talks since they seemed the closest Law without consorting with criminals or,, u know the Dozens,,, neither of which he was a fan of (he had some drawbacks with the knights ofc but less than the others) Which is probably why he ended up with some places only seeing him as a hero rather than a champion And some places,, not liking him much at all

#30 day watcher challenge #30daywatcherchallenge #pillars of eternity #yinro #idk if its tagged as one word or not

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acsversace-news · 7 years

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The bad news: there’s no new episode of American Crime Story: Versace this week. Good news: we still have episode five, entitled “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” to talk about.

More good news: Gianni Versace is finally back, even if most of the episode takes place even further back in the past. Seriously, I was under the impression that most of this season was going to be about the relationship between Versace and Andrew, but that doesn’t look to be the case anymore. Oh, well.

The message that “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” hits the audience with relates back to the idea of homosexuality — what does it mean to come out as gay? Is it easier for some people? Harder? Or is it just different?

We start with Versace arguing with Donatella about coming out. Versace’s scheduled an interview with Advocate magazine in which he plans to reveal his secret, which Donatella says is a bad idea. It’ll hurt their brand, after all, and the world isn’t ready for this kind of announcement.

Versace, with Antonio at his side (who may or may not have his own motives here, as he’s been called Gianni’s assistant for the past 13 years and wants to make a name for himself), still plans to go forward with it though, despite Donatella’s dissatisfaction.

Then we go back in time, before the murder of Jeff Trail — a move that seems odd at the time, but eventually makes sense by the end of the episode.

Andrew is booking a flight to Minneapolis to see his two best friends — Jeff and David. He’s low on money, injecting heroin into his toes and lives in a pretty empty and sad living space. But we do see an important, albeit, hidden image: a collage of Gianni Versace, with the Advocate interview at the heart of it.

At the airport, David and Jeff are reluctantly waiting for him. Neither of them is particularly happy to see Andrew — especially Jeff, who thinks Andrew is a creep after he “accidentally” sent a postcard to Jeff’s dad that tried to out him as gay. Yet, both of them owe Andrew in some way, so they’re more or less forced to show up.

That doesn’t mean they plan to be around the whole weekend, though. Jeff is letting Andrew stay in his apartment, while he plans to stay at his sister’s (who is pregnant and due any day now). The less he has to interact with Andrew the better.

Instead, Andrew goes home with David. David doesn’t particularly care for Andrew either, but he’s at least sympathetic towards him. At least, he is initially. That feeling doesn’t last too long when Andrew to gives him a $10,000 watch and proposes — something David has no interest in accepting. To make matters worse, Andrew won’t even take no for an answer. He tells him to think it over for the weekend, assuming David will change his mind in that time.

The situation goes downhill from there. David takes Andrew along with him to a polka club that night to meet up with one of his co-workers. David introduces Andrew as a friend, only for Andrew to get offended and re-introduce himself as a lover. After hearing Andrew make up a bunch of lies about what he does for a living, David can’t take it anymore: he tells him flat-out that he will never marry him.

Andrew heads back to Jeff’s house in a saddened glaze, unsure of how to react or what he’ll do next. He starts poking around Jeff’s belongings, only to find his Navy uniform. He takes it out, puts on the hat and then finds a hidden VHS tape at the bottom of it.

Putting it in, we see a news report that’s covering the topic of homosexuals in the military. All of the witnesses are anonymous, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the blackened shadow we hear speaking in the video is Jeff.

Then we go to ANOTHER flashback, two years earlier when Jeff is in the Navy. We first see Jeff break up a fight in which a sailor is being mercilessly beaten for being gay. Later that night the same thing happens again — the sailor is being attacked, and Jeff saves his life.

Jeff brings the sailor into the bathroom to look at his injuries. He tries to offer him some advice (just leave, he says), but winds up just silently comforting him. And, of course, that’s right when someone walks into the room and sees him.

The two aren’t beaten to death right there, thankfully. Instead, the man that saw him tries to intimidate Jeff the next day. He says that a gay sailor is going to identify all the other homosexuals on board by revealing what tattoos they have (the sailor doesn’t actually know their names, in this story).

Jeff just so happens to have a tattoo on his leg. After unsuccessfully trying to remove it with a knife (a scene that made me want to vomit), Jeff decides to give up and hang himself in the bathroom.

After gasping for air for a few minutes, he changes his mind just in time. Instead, he decides to try something else — he’ll embrace it.

He heads off to a gay bar, clearly out-of-place and uncomfortable. Yet, that’s where he happens to run into Andrew, and suddenly we realize what Jeff meant when he said he owed Andrew. The two hit it off that night (Andrew once again proves he’s perfectly capable of being friendly and charming when he so pleases), and Jeff suddenly feels a lot better about himself.

Better enough to where he agrees to do this anonymous interview for CBS, talking about his experiences as a gay man in the military. We then cut back-and-forth between the Jeff interview and the Versace interview with Advocate, showing the difficulty that different figures in different lines of work have in coming out as gay.

Cut back to the day of Jeff’s murder. Jeff walks in on Andrew, still in his apartment. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that Andrew touched his uniform, and Jeff rightfully freaks out. After arguing for a bit, which ends with Jeff saying “No one wants your love,” Andrew leaves to head back to David’s place.

We know the rest from there, seen in the previous episode. However, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” hits us with one last heartbreaking moment. We end this week’s edition of Versace in Jeff’s house, seeing his Navy uniform laying out on the bed. We hear the phone ringing again and again — his sister has gone into labor, and his parents are calling to tell him to come on down to the hospital.

Too bad the apartment is empty and we know the truth: Jeff (and David) are dead.

#acs versace #the celebrity cafe #2.05 #recap #review #article #february 2018

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inkstainedfanfics · 7 years

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Almost Easy

Summary: Reader needs to find a person that’s particularly good at hiding. Newt needs someone to clean up the messes his thugs leave behind as he searches for answers about his brother’s death. A self-proclaimed pyromaniac and a gang leader may just find allies in one another as they work to exact revenge on the ones that wronged them.

Word Count: 3,854

Pairing: Newt x Reader (not romantic)

Tagging @dont-give-a-bother and @sonuvawitch

Any comments/opinions on this piece, positive or negative, are welcome and encouraged

Fire crackles around you as the blood-splattered curtains turn into ash. The rug disappears as well, fading quickly into a pile of dust, next to the smoldering remains of the desk you’d chosen to burn first. It’d been beautiful, an obvious work of carpentry not many could accomplish.

Precisely why you’d decided it needed to go the second you walked in the room.

Avery raises an eyebrow, arms crossed where he stands in the doorway. “Are you gonna burn with all of this?”

You ignore the question, wiping at the sweat beading up on your forehead. “You placed the bomb?”

“You doubt me?”

Glancing at him sharply, you shake your head. “Answer the question or don’t. Leave the smart comments outside.” You’re on a mission, for Merlin’s sake.

Avery whistles, a low sound. “Forgot that you get touchy once you get the flames going.”

You glare at him as flames hit the lighter fluid you tossed in the corner and erupt.

“Did you or didn’t you?”

“Did.”

“In the vault?”

“Just outside of it, actually. Boss had bad information. We’ll get a bigger explosion where I set it.”

You watch him, wary. “You’re certain?”

Avery’s eyes flash, and he straightens, responding to your offhanded challenge. “When am I not right? You’ve got your expertise, I’ve got mine.”

The flames from the rug lick at your boots now, and their heat burns your calves. “Then I suppose we should get out of here. Decker’s got the car?”

Avery relaxes, slipping the bag he’s been carrying from his shoulder and tossing it to you. “Course she does. I swear she likes that more than the torture.”

You catch the bag and roll your eyes. “We don’t torture them.”

He grins, a wicked sight as the scar that runs over his lips and down his chin stretches with it. “If that helps you sleep, be my guest. Call it interrogation.”

The black ski-mask, a guard against anyone identifying you sneaking out, captures the heat filling the room, holding it against your cheeks and nose, but you slide the rough fabric over your face. “We gather information for Mr. Scamander, that’s all.” The words are sharp, meant to convince Avery that no, you don’t want to discuss the parts of this job that result in corpses and bloody knives.

But Avery’s an arrogant asshole. “But how? Think they like our methods? Think they wish we kept them alive just a little longer so we could-“

“Let’s go.” You say, shoving the bag against his chest as you stomp past him. You don’t want to think about the countless bodies left in your wake today, the bodies that won’t be returned to their families, not after Avery’s job works. You were hired on to burn evidence. That’s all.

“Ah come on,” he says, following you down the ornate staircase, “you’re Scamander’s pet. Surely you don’t mind a bit of death.”

“I don’t kill people.”

“And the security guard?”

You blink back the image of the stocky man, his hand trembling as he held the revolver, pointing it at your temple. “I had no choice.” You growl through clenched teeth.

“Stunning curse?”

“Mr. Scamander said no curses. Not today.”

“You’re the one destroying the evidence. He’d never know.”

“The man would be alive.” You snap. “He’d be alive as everything burned around him.”

Avery scoffs, feet pounding against the steps. “Don’t tell me you’re really that soft-hearted.”

You land on the ground floor, panting, wishing the flames were around you again so you could send them spiraling toward Avery. A nip, that’s all he needs, a small bite from the flames and he’ll watch what he’s saying to you.

Drawing your wand, you turn around.

Avery throws his hands up, sly grin returning to his face. “You wouldn’t really shoot the one guy that’s on your side here, would you?”

“Move or go up in flames with the staircase.” You let a beat pass before returning his wicked smile. “Your choice.”

His grin widens. “I knew you had a sadistic bone in there somewhere.” Then he bounds down the final few steps, landing next to you. The stench of his cologne suffocates you, ruins the moment as you cast incendio and watch the lighter fluid spread down the railings and the sides of the steps explode into flames.

Avery whistles again, and you have to resist the urge to hit him for it. How hard is it to shut up?

Far off in the New York streets, firetruck alarms blare. The trucks must be bumbling toward you. Slow. They’re always too slow.

“How much time do we have?”

Avery glances at his watch. Leather. Shiny face. Thick, black numbers. You don’t want to know where a goon like him got it from.

“Two minutes if you did everything right. Ten if you didn’t.”

His jab passes you as you watch the brilliant red and orange fill the hallway. The heat’s back, boiling you alive, and you feel a swell in your chest as it all begins to crumble with cracks and pops and snaps.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Avery turns with you, reaching for the door handle. “Decker’s got the car in an alley five blocks away. We hoof it. Keep your head down. Flatfoots are probably on the way. Don’t get caught.”

You nod, giving the flames a final glance before letting Avery lead you to the front. He’s serious now, all guises of being goofy and carefree disappearing as he scans the area outside.

“It’s clear for now. Hurry.”

You can’t help but admire this side of him. It’s these times, when he takes the lead in your small group of three, that you understand why Mr. Scamander hired him. He’s professional, respectable, and an asset anyone in this career would be lucky to have.

You rush to keep up with his stride as the moonlight bounces off the two of you. He’s a giant, dwarfing anyone and anything nearby, and you struggle to stay by his side. Hurry. An easy command for him.

Two blocks away from the building, you both tear off your masks, casting a quick spell to transform your dark pantsuits into more respectable clothing: him into a three piece suit and you into your own flapper dress, complete with a headband dripping with rhinestones and glittering jewels. Avery tugs his fedora low over his eyes.

You manage another block, half running as the watch ticks away the time remaining. The flames will be near the bomb now. You can almost picture the glowing reds that are eating away the beautiful woodwork inside, almost smell the smoke that’s clouding the ceiling, almost hear the cracks of breaking wood and burning bookshelves. You fight the urge to go back, to watch everything happen, reminding yourself that Mr. Scamander needs you.

Avery’s voice knocks you from your thoughts.

“Grab my arm. We’ve got flatfoots just around the bend.”

“So draw your wand.”

“Merlin’s sake.” He mutters before grabbing your hand. “Just try to pretend you’re in love with me.”

“Excuse me?” You hiss, but have no chance to let him elaborate when a voice stops you.

Two officers step out of a shadowed alleyway, hands on their belts. One’s older, obvious by the way he walks toward you with a raised chin and ramrod straight back. Experienced. Or, at least, he believes he is. His badge glints in the moonlight. His partner, a younger man, steps forward, but stops at the first officer’s hand.

“Pretty late to be walking around, isn’t it, folks?” The first officer asks, his gravelly voice a grating sound in the silence of the night.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I think it’s a lovely night. You don’t agree?”

Your eyes slide to Avery’s watch. Half a minute until the building explodes. He just needs to stall until then.

There doesn’t need to be another death.

“I don’t know.” The first officer continues. “Pretty cold out for your woman to just wear that isn’t it?”

You bristle at that comment, but Avery squeezes your hand tight. So tight you nearly yelp.

Another command.

“Sure, sure. The whiskey’s keeping her warm enough for now, but I’m trying to get her home quick as I can. Be easier if I weren’t stopped unjustly.” There’s a layer in his voice, a warning the cop seems to pick up on.

The older cop sizes Avery up. “Don’t know what you mean by unjustly.”

Avery grins, and you can see the malice beneath it as his hand drifts in his pocket. “Me and my wife are just trying to get home, sir. You going to let us?”

Fifteen seconds.

“Why don’t you step away from the lady, sir.”

“What for?”

Ten seconds.

“Just want to talk to the both of you.”

“We’re perfectly fine, sir.”

Five seconds.

The cop’s hand lands on his gun. It’s tiny, but threatening enough to cause harm if he draws it. You squeeze your eyes shut. Not again.

Three seconds.

“Wrong choice.” Avery says between gritted teeth.

The gunshot’s boom melts in the sudden chaos, overshadowed by the loud rupture of the building behind you.

A part of you is disappointed. You missed it, the initial spillage of flames and fire and concrete into the quiet street, missed seeing the very fire you began end. Another part of you is disgusted. The officer stumbles around pathetically, hand clenched around his throat, mouth opening and closing and opening again like the fish you caught years ago while fishing with your best friend. The final part of you is thrilled as you fall forward, only missing the ground thanks to Avery’s strong grip.

He shoves you forward, gaining his balance sooner than the younger officer who’s struggling to draw his gun.

“Run to Decker and stay the hell out of trouble. I’ll take care of this.”

“Mr. Scamander says to stay together.”

Avery growls. Honest to Merlin growls, eyes burning with anger. “Get the hell out of here before I kill you myself. I’ll meet you at the car.”

“Hell no, Avery. More are coming. You’ll be dead.”

Avery’s lip curls into a snarl. “Go before I make you.”

He says something more, eyes wild, but you don’t hear it. The officer’s drawn his gun, lined it up with Avery’s head, and his finger’s moving toward the trigger.

You leap forward, thinking of nothing but Avery’s unmoving body. There’s been enough death. He won’t fall, too.

The officer is light, thank Merlin, and your hit knocks him off balance. The gunshot bursts, a sharp pop in your ear. Avery’s voice follows quickly, muted, screaming your name as you roll across the ground with the officer.

The officer’s screaming himself, a wordless scream meant only to convey his terror as he scrambles to right himself, the gun still in his hand. Grabbing his wrists, you keep the gun pointed away.

He shoves a foot in your gut, hard, and the air rushes from your chest as your supper threatens to reappear. You curl into a ball, grabbing your stomach, releasing his hands.

Then the gun’s pointed at your head, a swinging silver glint, and you squeeze your eyes shut, ready for it all to end.

Then it’s gone, the bullet erupting out of the gun scraping the inside of your elbow, leaving a streak of burning flames on your skin.

You gulp in breaths, unable to scream, unable to move, unable to even think as you try to refill your lungs.

Somewhere nearby, Avery scuffles with the officer, feet pound toward you, and alarms blare. Still, you remain on the ground, convulsing as you finally manage a full breath.

The bag. You need the bag.

Drawing your wand, you cast accio, charming the lighter fluid hidden somewhere in there. The muggle officer’s too caught up in his fight with Avery, and the others, the ones a block away now, won’t live long enough to remember the magic.

You take a deep breath when the bottle hits your hand. Death. So much death.

Shutting your eyes, you picture your best friend, his face, and nod once to yourself. If the officer’s won’t let you go, they’ll have to die. You have a date with revenge soon, and nothing’s going to stop you.

Yanking the cap off with your shaking hand, you splash it everywhere around you, careful to be sure it misses your clothes, leaving a small circle of dry cement around you. A plan. You need a plan.

Avery struggles with the officer, moving around his back, grabbing his chin and forehead.

Your stomach turns as the man realizes what’s happening at the same time as you.

As you watch the scene unfold, helpless, you smell smoke for a moment, a curl of it, feel it burn your nose, though there’s no smoke around, not for two blocks.

Then Avery’s hands twist and it’s over with, and you’re safe except for the officers that are only a half block away now, their feet so close to landing in lighter fluid.

“Avery, over here, now!” You shout, eyes focusing only on Avery’s scar, his dark eyes, the way his stubble doesn’t grow in one spot on his neck. Anything but the glassy-eyed man at his feet.

Avery dashes to your side, kneeling next to you. “You okay?”

No time for pleasantries. “My matches. Grab one, light it, and toss it.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” You grab at your elbow, squeezing your eyes shut. It bites more than you would’ve imagined.

The officers are in the puddle of lighter fluid now, raising their guns.

“Avery, do something quickly for the first time in your miserable life.”

The match flares in his hand. “You’re so impatient.” He mutters it like it’s a joke, but you can see the terror in his eyes. He doesn’t want to go down, not like this.

You let go of your wound, hand coated in blood now, and grab his white shirt. “Grab me.” You say as the match soars to the ground.

A shame, you think, that you don’t get to see the flames erupt around you, don’t get to feel their heat, but Avery has both arms around your waist and you’re apparating, squeezed through a rubber tube. For a moment, you can see five nails, manicured, painted a light pink, then you’re falling on your face right next to Avery.

Merlin, you hate apparition.

You land in a heap on the ground of Mr. Scamander’s office. Rolling onto your back, you hiss out a curse and grab your arm again. Avery’s next to you, unmoving, just cussing as filthily as he can, staring up at the ceiling.

“Why the hell,” he finally says, “didn’t you listen?”

You gulp in a deep breath of the room’s smoky air, grateful for the chance to actually breathe. “He was about to kill you.”

“I had it under control.”

“Fine, I’ll just let him shoot you in the head next time. Would that be better?” You snap, turning your head to glare at Avery.

He props himself up on an elbow, rolling his eyes. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re an idiot.” Damn it, your arm hurts.

Avery reaches out, grabbing your hand and dragging it away from the wound. “It’s shallow.”

“I know. That’s doesn’t mean it doesn’t burn.”

Avery’s eyes light up, anger fading fast. “You’re the fire girl. You should enjoy the burn.”

“Shut up and just help me.” You take another deep breath, reveling in the scent of cigars permanently absorbed in the room. It’s a soothing scent, a familiar one you learned to enjoy when you began working with Mr. Scamander the previous year.

“Oh, come on, you saying you didn’t mean to make that pun?”

His anger’s completely gone now, and you’re grateful for it. He can be a real jackass, but when it comes down to it, Avery’s not the worst man you’ve met. “Just fix it, please.”

He chuckles, reaching for his wand.

A familiar voice interrupts any chance of getting comfortable. “Any information?”

Avery blinks as the wound finishes knitting itself back together, then scrambles to his feet, giant body casting a shadow over you. His eye’s bruised and his lip’s bleeding, but he seems no worse for the wear otherwise. Lucky bastard. “None, sir. They were a decoy, just like the other leads.”

Mr. Scamander, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, mustard vest half-buttoned, crosses the room, stepping behind the huge oak desk that fills the center of the room. “Not a thing? You’re sure? Not a mention of the senators, the concilmen?”

His footsteps clack against the wooden floor past the rug, and you notice his boots are untied. He just woke.

“They were just grifters, sir. Swear it.”

It’s unnerving, the silence that follows those words. Undoubtedly, Mr. Scamander’s disappointed, angry, ready to track down the informants that gave false information, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t scowl, doesn’t do anything but reach for one of the desk’s drawer.

He’s the epitome of calm, and it makes you wish you’d stood when Avery did. “You checked everything?”

“Every nook and cranny, sir.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you can’t expect news of your dead brother from a group of criminals, can you?” His lips twitch up as though he’s made a joke, but neither you nor Avery react. His icy gaze sweeps to where you lie on the ground a moment later. “And you destroyed it all?”

You shove yourself to your feet, ignoring the ache of your muscles, taking Avery’s hand. For a second, it’s callused, rough, as though the hand of an old friend you once knew, and his face morphs, too, and you almost shout. Almost. But then it’s over with and it’s normal and Mr. Scamander’s staring at you, so you wipe your hands on the front of your ruined dress and open your mouth. “I did, Mr. Scamander, sir.”

He nods. “Good.” He takes a box of cigars from the drawer. “Avery, Decker’s downstairs. She has a hostage. I’m certain she’d appreciate your help bringing him up here.”

“Right away, sir.” Avery gives you a glance, but turns away, yanking open the heavy office doors.

They shut with a click, leaving you and your boss alone.

It’s silent for a moment before Mr. Scamander speaks, eyes darting up to you. “How are you?”

“Sorry?”

He jerks his chin toward your bloody hand. “That’s yours?”

You raise it, staring at the amount of red covering it, relieved you can answer him truthfully. “Yeah.”

“This line of work isn’t easy.” He fidgets with the box in his hand, “If you’d prefer to leave, I would understand.”

Despite the exhaustion slowly creeping in as your adrenaline fades, you stiffen at the comment. “All due respect, sir, but you never offer Avery a way out, and I’m just as capable as he is.”

Mr. Scamander smiles at this, the corners of his lips moving up, the wrinkles around his eyes revealing just how tired he is. “Avery’s been here too long to leave.”

You stare at him, trying to read what he’s thinking as he lights the cigar. Avery’s only worked with him for six more months than you. Sure, he’s been here since Mr. Scamander became a true contender in the underworld, but he’s not any more important to the operation than you are.

“Avery’s as new as me.”

Mr. Scamander shakes his head. “He’s done this his whole life. You haven’t, have you? You had a life before joining me, didn’t you?”

You stiffen as he lifts the cigar to his lips. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” Or how he could know, not when you’ve kept it buried so deep under lies and half-truths that even you wonder if you’ll forget.

But no, that’s impossible. Every moment of that damned night is inescapable, the scars carved deep in your mind. You won’t forget.

That doesn’t mean Mr. Scamander needs to know.

Mr. Scamander watches you. “Perhaps it isn’t.” He murmurs. “But it’s important for you to consider. Why are you here?”

You mean to answer, but the scars, they’re throbbing, and you can’t block it out, not after a mission, not when you’re so tired.

The smell of the smoke’s going to your head, making you dizzy, and you swear the wound’s splitting open on your arm again as you sway back and forth, memories flashing in your vision. You can hear the screams again, see the smoke curling its way to the black sky.

Destruction.

Mr. Scamander’s in front of you suddenly, hands gripping your shoulders, holding you up. “Are you all right?”

You try to nod, to say something, but your words are gone and your tongue’s too heavy to move, to form the necessary motions to say what you need. His smell, the cigar, it makes it worse, and you can’t shake it out of your head as he drapes your arm around his shoulder, taking you somewhere.

You stumble forward, eyes shut but still seeing.

Dark blood under five manicured nails, screams tearing from somewhere far away that you can’t make out no matter how much you squint, acrid smoke burning your nose, rough hands under your arms, dragging you forward, whispering words of comfort in your ears, trying to block out the sounds of death.

“Merlin, make it stop.” You mutter, wishing you could go back, change it all, make sure it never happens. Then you’d be okay. Then you’d be at home with your family and friends and pets, not here, not next to the biggest gang lord in New York, so close you can count the scars on his hands.

Mr. Scamander’s saying your name, setting you down on something soft, something fluffy, and then he’s rubbing circles on your back.

You blink again, a scream building in your throat, but then it’s all gone. Vanishes as quickly as it comes.

Mr. Scamander peers at you, concern clear on his face, the scar over his eyebrow pulled down with his frown. “You’re not okay.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

You can hardly keep your eyes open, exhaustion crawling through your veins, tugging you down onto the bed Mr. Scamander set you on. Sleep. That will keep it all away. That will it tuck it back into the out of mind place it belongs for now.

“Why are you here?” He whispers, half a question for you, half a question he says to puzzle out himself.

“You led me here.” You murmur, hoping the joke will get him to leave you be. Goosebumps not from chills but from fear cover your arms, obvious to Mr. Scamander thanks to your silver dress.

His jaw clenches. Wrong answer. “You offered to help me. Why?”

You force your eyelids to open, peering up at Mr. Scamander’s worried face.

You’ve never told him or Decker or even Avery. It’s your secret.

You swallow, a final face flashing before your eyes.

You smile lightly, more cheeky than honest. “I have someone to track down, and you’re going to help me.”

#newt scamander #newt Scamander x reader #newt Scamander imagine #evil!newt #fbawtft #finally done #I hope it's not horrible #it took so long like eight hours yikes #and I actually edited this one a bit lol #so I hope you guys like it #but if it was the worst thing you've ever read #please do tell me #I don't want to write a series that sucks #because I have it planned on what'll happen #but I don't want to bother people #Newt will definitely be more involved in future chapters obviously lol #gotta show some Evil!newt bc I live for it rn #I hope you two don't mind me tagging you #I noticed earlier you said you'd be interested in seeing Evil NEwt #anyway this is me rambling bc I'm nervous haha #I haven't even slept #I've been living on chex and water as I wrote #and my playlist for this series lol #anyway #have an amazing day everyone!

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aucklandmed · 7 years

Text

Keep calm and move on from UMAT

So UMAT came out recently and some of you may not have gotten the result you wanted. Regardless of whether it was a 0-20th% or anything else, if you feel bad about your results, please take the time to read this post. I’m trying to help. I hope that I can, even just a little bit.

My summary of this post is:

1. Motivation and some small pieces of advice

2. Story time

3. What now?

4. What about later?

Before you leave this post, please read my post on dealing with bad grades. I wrote this after semester 1 results came out and I think it was helpful and is still applicable now to UMAT results.

http://aucklandmed.tumblr.com/post/162816784342/dont-let-bad-grades-get-to-you

Motivation and small pieces of advice

I purposefully said “small pieces of advice” because these are things you would have heard before. People don’t like hearing them (including myself) because they’re always easy to say when you’re feeling OK but if you can actually convince yourself to do these then they usually work. The hardest part is doing them.

Don’t (try not to) mope and beat yourself up. This will only distract you from studying and stop you from doing your best in other subjects. You won’t be doing anyone, especially yourself, any favours by being sad and making yourself feel worse. I say this with flashbacks to when I got bad grades and I would sit in my room, probably listening to sad songs and reading sad stories, making myself feel worse. Didn’t really help me but oh my god it was so tempting to do every other time I felt bad. Mourn for a bit, plan a list of actionable goals to prevent it from happening again. Real failure is when you give up. Never give up. You can’t change the past but you can change the future. More on this in the 3rd section

A bad grade really is only a bad grade. It doesn’t mean you’re worthless or have failed as a person.

Stay away from alcohol and drugs.

Sit in the sun without doing anything. I know it’s overcast in Auckland now but maybe tomorrow it will be sunny. Feel the heat of the rays hit your skin, think about how far that sunlight travelled to reach you.

Walk barefoot and feel the grass on your feet. Feel the sand, feel the carpet, feel the wooden floors.

Look up at the stars and the moon, understand how small we all are and how immense the universe is, realise what a miracle everything is, let your heart swell with amazement and admiration for life itself.

Remind yourself that everybody makes mistakes at times. You’ve grown and you’ve changed so much this year. If you’re going to think about the past, include your achievements too. We’re very good at beating ourselves up over our failures but not so good at realising our achievements.

Identify the lies you tell yourself and work on changing them so they’re more accurate and true. Don’t reinforce those lies by acting like you think they’re true. Feelings are not the same as facts. Don’t live based on those feelings because that will keep you trapped.

Remember why you’re here. Remember that your UMAT score isn’t everything. You know who’s gonna care about your UMAT score in the hospital? No one.

Story time

This will be a short paragraph but believe it or not, there are several people in 2nd year who got 0-20th percentile in UMAT. And I’d suggest you believe it because I really have no reason to lie to you. If there are people with those results in second year, they’re in other years as well. If they’re in other years, guess what: there are doctors with those results. I’m guessing they were also bummed out by their result but I’m also guessing they somehow decided to fight through it and take on the rest of the year and try to smash their exams and the interview.

I won’t sit here and tell you that “UMAT doesn’t matter”. The truth is I don’t know. No one knows. The general advice is “Do your best in UMAT but if your score isn’t good then oh well. Focus on the interview and core papers”. So that’s pretty much a TLDR of this whole post. But there’s more.

Don’t give up now. You’re so close. You’ve studied and cried and yelled your way to ¾ of premed and you’re almost there. The occasional sunny days remind you that summer is coming and it feels like it’s almost over. But it’s not. You’ve still got 40% of your med entry score to go. That’s one core paper (15%) and the interview (25%). Honestly, that’s a lot. It’s over a third of your application. Don’t give up now because you can turn this around for yourself. You’re probably on the right track and you’re just upset about your UMAT score. THAT’S FINE. But please don’t give up, you will get there, one way or another.

What now?

You have your medsci 142 test 1 coming up! Now this is some important stuff, your last core paper and your first test. Do the mock test. Study for the test. Don’t let this get in the way of your preparation for the medsci test! It’s so important to not let your past affect your future. Don’t let this one bad result dishearten you and prevent you from progressing. It’s really really not worth it giving up on your dream because you were so sad about one test and then you didn’t put as much effort into the next one.

If you can, and I know it’s hard, try to not think about it. Study for medsci. Watch a movie. Read this post again. The sooner you stop beating yourself up about it, the sooner you can get back to kicking ass and achieving your goals.

What about next time?

I always like to include a “what if it really doesn’t work out” point somewhere. Yeah, even if you really think that your UMAT is so bad that you can’t recover, I do advise you to keep going. Don’t give up. You never know. Seriously, you never know!

But if you do get to the end of this year, you get the bad news, know this: it’s not your last chance. I know this is difficult to listen to, I never wanted to hear it when I got rejected from med school but it’s really not your last chance at your dream. It wasn’t really until about halfway through 2nd year that I realised that it might actually work the second time and that that’s okay. It’s okay to not believe me either. But please don’t give up. Try to carry on and you will come to realise it too. It’s not the end of the world. If you really want to be a doctor and you’re prepared to put time and effort into it, I promise you will find a way. It may not be the easiest way and it may not be right now but it will happen.

If you’re particularly worried about UMAT, then know that you can improve the score. I am living proof of that and so are many other people. Here’s my last post about that.

http://aucklandmed.tumblr.com/post/162931914377/how-i-prepared-for-umat

This isn’t here to make you feel bad about how you prepared BTW, this is just showing you that if you really don’t think you’ll make it this year (but you’ll keep trying anyway because you are better than that and you’re strong), there is help. I’m here for you. I’m here to tell you everything I can to make it a little bit easier because I know what it’s like to struggle in first year, not get in and feel like crap because it’s my life’s dream. It’s not the end of the world and you’re not alone.

As always, if you need someone to talk to, flick me a message either here or on FB. It doesn’t matter whether it’s about UMAT or premed stress, I’m here for you.

If you’d like, here is a link to a post about a website where people publish their grades and UMAT scores and whether they got into med or not. Might be helpful, might be useless. Up to you.

http://aucklandmed.tumblr.com/post/163839823217/what-are-my-chances

#me #umat #advice

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siavahdainthemoon · 7 years

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your piece on historical evil reminded me of thoughts ive had about american politics lately. people are saying stuff like "well they just dont know any better thats how they were raised thats all the info they have no one taught them different" etc to excuse why a lot of people are trying to take away the rights and lives of other people. but in this era of immense internet access, when all the information they would need to learn is so immediately available… i dont think that counts anymore.

Like I said in that post, I no longer believe that’s an excuse that works for historical time periods in which people didn’t have access to outsider views, so yes, definitely, it absolutely doesn’t count now. Because short of being raised in some militant type fundamentalist compound with no access to the internet or tv or books…you really just have no excuse. There’s no way to live, in an industrial nation, and not have access to other perspectives - usually you don’t even have to look for it.

I mean, I was raised Roman Catholic, and by very conservative parents. This was in Ireland and the UK mostly, so we’re not talking American Republican levels of conservative…but my stepmother was ex-BNP (which is the British party that was so racist they were actually forced to dismantle it, and it became what’s now UKIP - which is still, honestly, super racist and isolationist and all levels of urgh, okay) who banned my brother from the kitchen because Only Women Cook and refused to take my half-sisters to see The Frog Princess because ‘she’s not a real princess, Sia, she’s black.’ My dad once said he’d rather his children were trans than gay, because at least being trans was a biological mix-up between brain and body and therefore ‘made sense’. My house was full of casual racism and fatphobia and again, just so many levels of urgh, okay? And I was such a brainwashed little idiot that I even defended Guantanamo Bay as a necessary thing for a school presentation, when I was eleven or so.

(I am still horrified by that. I recently even tracked down the teacher who was in charge of that assignment to apologise, because, well. I kind of had to.)

And by seventeen I was a pansexual-identifying neo-pagan who had one token straight in my gang of friends and was living off social welfare (because my parents had moved to the USA and I was alone in the UK and my student welfare was the only thing letting me eat, because my dad somehow wanted me to get my A Levels while working a full-time job and reaching suicidal levels of depression, which was obviously not happening). By nineteen I couldn’t have any conversation with my dad because we ended up screaming at each other no matter how innocuous the topic - I’m 24 now and that’s still true.

(My latest and last-ever trip to visit them in New Jersey, he picked me up from the airport and asked had I seen any good films lately. I told him about Ghostbusters, the all-female one, and how it had made me laugh till I cried - and he immediately dismissed it as ‘just a crazy feminist thing’. I was in the car for all of two minutes, we hadn’t even left the airport yet, and I was talking about a comedy film I’d enjoyed. And I’d promised that this trip I wouldn’t go near anything political to minimise the fucking trauma of being in a house with those people. I seriously considered getting out of the car and just living in the airport for a week until I could go home; I did burst into tears because I was so fucking tired and just, two minutes.

Two minutes. Two minutes is officially how long we can be around each other without it going to Hell.)

Some things I figured out spontaneously that my parents were wrong about - Roman Catholicism just rubbed me wrong and by the time I was nine I was refusing to go to Church, I refused to be Confirmed without knowing anything about any other religions. My dad and stepmother’s fatphobia upset me because I was (and still am) overweight for my size, and so their comments about other people or people on tv hit me, too, even though they rarely directed them at me. I didn’t know queerness was a thing until I was thirteen, when I found it through (of course) fanfiction, but after that I knew what they said and thought about being queer was bullshit. Other stuff I learned from my friends and my teachers, and fandom in general kickstarted so many revelations in my head - I went to all-girls’ schools almost exclusively but didn’t discover feminism until I was eighteen, and then wow, talk about a self-sustaining cycle of liberationlism.

And my point is - the moment I got old enough to start properly thinking for myself, which was at about fourteen/fifteen - there was just no way to stay brainwashed. Things that contradicted what my parents were saying was literally everywhere. And I’m not special, I’m not some kind of genius, I’m not an outlier. If I could do it, in the environment I was in, I’m not buying any excuses that other people can’t too. You have to be walking around with your eyes shut not to see everything that contradicts the idea that people not-like-you are actually not-like-you. Because they’re not not-like-you, they’re just like you, and should be treated exactly as you would like to be, by you and your family and your government and your world.

You just cannot live in the modern world and not be exposed to the fact that conservative little you is just wrong. If you don’t see it, then sorry, that’s entirely on you. The entire world is screaming it at you. If you don’t hear it, it’s because you’re not listening. And no one else is to blame for that, no matter who raised you.

You don’t know better? Bullshit. You don’t want to know. And that’s all there is to it.

#social justice sorceress #ethics #morality #social justice #personal #Anonymous

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