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#hopefully the tag system helps with some of the toxicity
enderman-ezra · 2 years
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I hate to be that guy but I am actually worried about everyone from Twitter migrating over here
I feel like Tumblr in the past couple years has been such a nice space for me where I’m not afraid to share my opinions or be cringy and I’m genuinely worried about losing that, I hope Tumblr doesn’t adopt the same energy as Twitter
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heartbrake-hotel · 8 months
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TIME FOR A WIP TAG GAME 💫
rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
oh nooo exposed by smitty for my ridiculous doc names.. how could you DO this to meee 😭 dfghs but thanks for the tag darlin @prompted-wordsmith.!!
(tagged on my main but i thought i'd go ahead and post here instead... if i posted all of my wips for every fandom, we'd be here a month 🤭)
my naming conventions are notably all either coded nonsense only comprehensible to me, or song lyrics that are not, in fact, from the song i Actually titled the fic with.! it got so ridiculous i made a spreadsheet to keep track of their shorthand names, their Real Actual Titles, and their summaries. just so i could always find right what i was looking for. i love to cross-reference ! three cheers for color-coding ! 🎉 luckily for me, said doc came in veryyy handy when it came to copy/pasting for this tag game 😂😂
daddy? sorry, da-
i get no help around this goddamn house
this is the Real t&s
he was the congregations vagrant
cry about it, fucker
the saints we see are all made of gold
all the small things
lover's lover's alibi
he's the one to call (dr. feelgood)
my middle name is miseryyy
ho ho hopefully
this is NOT feederism it is cARETAKING
who do you love
what breed is he just a little guy
toxic las vegas
achy breaky head
catch a falling star💫
being weird together is a love language
oscars flop era
9 to 5
go out by the oak leaf
motorpsyche 🏍️
ive beaten the orange camaro
ginger snapped 🐺
vacation all ive ever wanted
polk salad booty is this anything
some of these have been in the works for YEARS, like.. since the movie actually came out.. i started writing two days after i got home from the theater the first time oOP look y'all know me alright the likelihood any of these will actually make it to posting on this blog is,, uh. Slim !! ngl it's pretty slim. i have wips from over a decade ago that STILL don't feel done enough to publish 🙈 but these in particular are very near and dear to my heart and i'd love to gauge y'all's interest anyway.! so fire away, ask me anything, i love to talk and am always down to gush 👍
tagging: @whositmcwhatsit, @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @vintagepresley, @floralcyanide, @whatstruthgottodowithit,@dreamingofep, @ooihcnoiwlerh, @suraemoon, @vintageshanny, uhhh i panicked at the length of this list and don't know who else writes around here and is left to tag, but pleaseeee take this as an open invitation to join in if you want!! i'd love to see everyone's systems 🥰🥰 and of course no pressure if you don't 👌
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rilli-luci · 1 year
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What does Pro/Shipper Mean?
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I’m only typing this cause I had to explain to a friend why the label of pro/shipper is so controversial and I like to act on the benefit of the doubt that some people may not be informed so under the cut I’m gonna explain this and why there’s so 
I’m not really gonna debate the morality of it but I am going to just explain the general gist of the term and WHY a lot of people don’t like the word and I hope it helps some people when it comes to fandom labels.
Reblog if you want but please do not come to my inbox or IMs to debate this topic. This is an information post ONLY. Not a discussion one.
Warning before you read, this post will cover Problematic Ships with triggering topics. They are mentioned for the sake of information. But I don’t want to unintentionally trigger anyone.
Going to start with the fact that this word has changed meaning over time. When I first got into tumblr rp and heard this term, it meant a completely different thing than it does now. And I think this is important cause when words change meaning and people just may not know, it can lead to a lot of misunderstandings that could be avoided if people just y’know...communicated. But that’s besides the point.
Pro/shipper at some point USED to mean one who supports a specific ship or shipping in general.
I’m currently very much so still in my Owl House hyperfixation so I will be using ships from this fandom to better explain the point. So if you are a big fan of Goldric (Hunter x Edric) then you were considered a pro/shipper for that ship. The opposite of this would be an Anti-Shipper as you did not like this ship. There was nothing generally wrong with being pro or anti as long as the ship was not problematic. Most of the discourse came from Antis sorta flooding the tags of the ships either due to their pettiness or tumblr’s shitty tagging system.
HOWEVER that is not the case now. Roughly around the 2010s (I like to think it happened somewhere around 2012-2015) the word changed its meaning.
That’s because people who supported what are called Problematic Ships.
These are your ships (with examples) that ignore canon sexualities of one or both parties of a ship (such as Hunter x Amity), are in/cest (Such as Lilith x Eda),have inappropriate age differences (such as any ship regarding a minor and an adult), those that display abusive dynamics ( such as Lilith x Belos ), etc. Ships that generally will make the average fan feel uncomfortable.
Some people who highly enjoyed problematic ships started using the term Pro/Shipper as a way to either defend their ships or justify their reasons as to why they were okay.
At this point the meaning has changed.
Pro/shipper NOW means one who supports a ship or shipping deemed problematic and/or believes in the freedom to create and consume fanworks with such elements.
Now content with toxic or abusive dynamics is more of a gray area, they’ve sorta always existed even before fandom culture became what it is today and it of course isn’t just purely tied to ships (For example, Hunter and Belos have this dynamic but are HOPEFULLY not a ship). Its all dependent on if the person making the content genuinely ships it or is making content for some other purpose that’s far less problematic and its complicated and definitely a case by case basis. But for the previous problematic examples, well there’s really no reason to ship in/cest now is there? Its just pretty gross. 
So when a person says “I’m a pro/shipper” today while there is a good chance they’re very much so meaning the first definition, it may be automatically assumed by others that they mean they are the latter. And for those other people, they may not have the energy or time to invest in meeting this person and learning what they think a pro/shipper is and if they still stand by that label if they know the connotations it presents. Its generally safer to them to just call it a lost and not interact.
So if you read this and  you still think this label is for you, then this is the sort of risk you are taking by taking on this label. Does it suck? Maybe, depending on who you are. But like I said, this post is meant to inform people and I’ve done just that.
Words have power now and days, more than people know. Especially when it comes to labels.  And when words change meaning like this one did, then I feel its important that everyone gets on the same page.
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archon-maenad · 10 months
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hello, welcome to my pinned post! I'm archon-maenad, formerly known as wormpinions, and this is meant to be a guide and warning all at once for my blog. if you're following me with any level of active interest I highly recommend at least skimming this.
below the read-more contains general disclaimers I wish everyone who read my posts could know, a list of takes I have that might be deal-breakers, a summary of each au I created that I post about on here, and an extensive masterlist of my insane tagging system.
and here's my ao3 above the rm, because I'm shameless and desperate for interaction.
honestly, by general disclaimers I mostly mean one thing with a few aspects that I really really really want to make sure people know. specifically the concept of bashing vs criticism.
I do not like the idea of bashing characters. fics tagged with that are a red flag, I always use the "[character] Critical" because it's more accurate to the nuance I want to have. people are not one dimensional. they can have a fuckload of flaws I want to scream about from the rooftops and/or cackle about and still have the opportunity to become better people.
I can admit that I do like bashing settings, but I also use the "[topic] Critical" tag for that because once again: nuance is very important. some worlds are completely fucked but that doesn't mean they don't have redeeming qualities or became that way for a reason.
having to add on to every post that I have thoughts beyond the scathing analysis or (hopefully) amusing dunking would get old real fast, so let me put it here. I do not hate unconditionally. I am capable of exploring generous good-faith interpretations of characters I dislike or settings I criticize. I acknowledge the layers of why people act or places work.
that being said, welcome to the possible deal-breakers part of this post. here are a list of popular characters I will ruthlessly drag for making awful decisions.
itachi uchiha. why does nobody talk about how he literally deadass canonically no-I-am-not-exaggerating tortured his little brother. how can people call him a good sibling What The Actual Fuck????
kakashi hatake. he did team 7 so fucking dirty, mans was really willing to throw a bunch of children out into life as soldier-mercenaries unprepared. I understand why he did (70% of his personality is trauma) but that doesn't mean I condone it.
naruto uzumaki. yes I am very critical of the main boy himself. he's so blind to the privilege he has and expects other people to forgive things as easily as he does, minimizing the very real grievances they might have just because the person being criticized is one he cares about.
sasuke uchiha. do I need to elaborate.
minato namikaze. this one is more me just being really annoyed at how the fandom is so quick to paint him in a saintly light when he killed a thousand people and became a military dictator.
batman. I have a lot of problems with how he handles his rogues and the child heroes trailing at his heels.
all-might. he's a criminally negligent teacher and taught japan that triumph written in blood is peace. dude really singlehandedly fucked up a whole country's culture.
eraserhead. the fact he is a good hero willing to die for his students does not mean he isn't actively sabotaging their ability to trust authority figures, and dadzawa is entirely a fan creation. in canon he seriously gives so many rancid vibes.
izuku midoriya. his self-righteousness and lack of respect for boundaries just makes me nauseous. and instead of getting a mentor who helps him grow as a person, he got one who reinforced all his toxic traits.
daemon targaryen. he ordered the deaths of children and SEDUCED HIS FOURTEEN YEAR OLD NIECE. FOURTEEN. and then fucked her later right after her husband's funeral like that genuinely makes me want to throw up it's so disrespectful and disgusting.
rhaenyra targaryen. yes the double standards for women cheating are definitely real, but passing off her bastards as trueborn and then getting mad when people don't want a woman who believes she has a right to break vows on the throne is just. wowza. hubris should have been her middle name.
padme amidala. if you aren't going with an interpretation where anakin (probably out of unconscious negligence but that doesn't excuse it) manipulated her emotions, then you gotta face the fact that your precious girlboss married a mass murderer and is willing to put all the bills she pushes concerning the jedi at stake by doing that.
on the flipside, here are some characters I shamelessly love that are divisive figures in fandom.
sakura haruno. her harassment of sasuke is disgusting but she was a twelve year old girl who was taught such behavior was acceptable and also that doesn't mean she should be sent off to die with no training. why y'all hating on her she's a queen.
ron weasley. I probably won't make any actual posts about hp because contributing to the discussion of jk rowling's works makes me feel slimy, but appreciation of ron is a very important personality trait of mine y'all need to know.
the whole jedi order. they handled anakin's situation horribly but it was out of ignorance and not malice, and we are jedi culture positive in this household. jedi knights and masters not marrying has a lot of valid reasons actually and if that's a dealbreaker you should transfer to the corps or leave! it's not a lifestyle for everyone and it doesn't need to be.
sansa stark. I'm getting pretty tired of writing all these up so I'm not even going to elaborate. I love sansa and I'm not sorry about it.
and finally, yes I am the bitch who got dragged for liking kill orders. please go here for my explanation for those thoughts in detail that the (in hindsight really badly written because I was too enthusiastic to give enough context and oh my god it really does paint me in a bad light) original post didn't cover.
now the fun stuff. my aus!
riley midoriya au: a reformed but still pretty wild bonesaw is reborn as izuku's twin sister, quickly replacing bakugou's canon role model status. cue a protagonist who grew up around scathing commentary concerning japan's cape scene bc homegirl is Not Impressed by her new life.
bonesaw at camp half blood au: riley is reborn as annabeth chase. her unique worldview and curiosity shake things up quite a bit, because everyone around here is too damn quick to accept the status quo and not question the facts being told.
taylor uzumaki au: taylor hebert is reborn as naruto. she hates her new world, especially the normalized child soldiers and thoughtless way they take chakra for granted, and unknowingly makes ninja double take by being her usual unhinged self.
forbidden histories au: two codependent eldritch gods from cultist simulator get stuck in the body of sakura haruno and proceed to wreak havoc trying to get back to their home reality.
genesis generation au: my own personal post-canon fix-it. aka hokage sakura, ambassador naruto, under house arrest with chakra binding seals and rethinking all his life choices sasuke, and economies not based on child soldiers.
the rest of my tags will have to be sorted by category because there are just... so many. why am I like this.
first are the general fandom tags. they're what they say on the tin, and are for any mention or reference to anything in one of these pieces of media.
parahumans
naruto
pjo (aka the percy jackson books/world)
my hero academia
dc universe
svsss (aka scum villain system)
danny phantom
asoiaf (aka a song of ice and fire, or game of thrones)
star wars
danganronpa
disco elysium
the promised neverland
cultist simulator
animorphs
also the individual characters from those pieces of media but I'm not gonna list em all I ain't insane
next are the opinions tags, used for when something of actual substance is said on a topic. I had to prune these down they were getting crazy so here's the new list.
taylorpinions: taylor hebert opinions
rileypinions: riley grace davis opinions
ninepinions: slaughterhouse nine opinions (for the concept and non-riley members)
betpinions: earth bet opinions (culture, other unique aspects, and also now covers the aftereffects of endbringers)
bcfpinions: brockton's celestial forge by lord_roustabout opinions
wormpinions: worm opinions (everything else parahumans)
shinobipinions: shinobi opinions (covers everything naruto related so far)
dcpinions: dc universe opinions
umeipinions: all fics by umei no mai opinions
starpinions: star wars opinions
mansuspinions: mansus opinions (cultist simulator and book of hours)
miscpinions: miscellaneous opinions (fandoms I don't cover with regularity)
and finally, the uncategorized tags.
mae just talks: what it says on the tin, me talking (usually not fandom related)
fic rec: also what it says on the tin, posts with links to recommended fics
worm liveblogging: what it says on the tin, my live reactions to reading worm.
I have no idea if anyone will actually read this monster of a post, but it's important to me that it exists. so if you made it here to the end, thank you. I hope you enjoy my -pinions!
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whumperooni · 4 years
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two in the morning and i’m all yours
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Pairing: Dabi x Reader
Tags/Warnings: tw toxic relationship, public fingering, drinking and drug mention, degradation, possessive behavior, daddy kink, fingers in moufs, reader is kind of a bimbo, mentions of punishment/trained behavior, drool, slight puking mention (just briefly, nothing graphic and not described in any detail- it’s all in the past)
Word count: 2.1k
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A/N: I, uh, have never ridden a train before. But I’ve ridden the subway! So I’m just going to slightly modify the request to subway rather than train;;;; And I skimped out on fucking, but hopefully this is tasty enough to make up for it ♡
✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤
Two in the morning and all is quiet.
It’s quiet as Dabi yanks you into the station and it’s quiet as he makes you hop the gate. His snicker when your clumsy, drunken feet stumble over one another is quiet and your whine against his chest is quiet, too.
The terminal is a ghost town as he hauls you through it- empty, dingy, washed over in a sickly green light that makes you feel so disconnected from the world above. It’s like a horror movie, almost, but you couldn’t ever be really scared of a vaguely spooky subway station- you face actual horrors in your life every day; you’ve got crooks for friends, bloodthirsty debtors haunting your every step, ravenous heroes looking to snatch you up just to get to the League, and a monster for a boyfriend.
All that is much, much scarier than any silly subway station.
And Dabi is the scariest of it all- thrilling, frightening, vicious, nasty.
A hum slips from you- dazed and faint- and you twine your fingers through Dabi’s, smile sleepily when his hand holds yours tight.
You like the way he holds your hand as if he’s terrified you’ll try to run away from him. You like how he crushes your palm and squishes your fingers together until they’re aching for a good few hours after. It feels like you’re precious somehow- though you know it’s a twisted way to be treated.
He just wants to keep you his is all. He just wants to make sure you won’t- can’t- ever leave him.
Not that you want to. Not that the thought of doing so could ever enter your giddy, empty head.
Dabi pulls you into a car and you giggle when he yanks you to sit down on his lap, curl your fingers into shirt and peer around curiously. It’s empty in here- just like the station- and your fuzzy mind can’t help but wonder if you really did happen to stumble upon a ghost town.
Ghost town? Ghost station? Ghost subway? Ghost...
Oh, whatever.
Another giggle as Dabi grips your waist and you smile up at him- eyes so heavy and cheeks flushed, your lashes fluttering as he digs his thumbs into deep circles along your hips.
“Are we goin’ back to the hideout?”
Slurred, a little whiny- Dabi huffs at the question and his grip on you tightens as he pulls you closer. You can’t help a small shiver when his hands wander lower and you pout when he huffs again, when he moves a hand away to take his cigarettes from his jacket pocket.
“Where the fuck else would we be goin’?”
You don’t know- a hotel? Another party? Some isolated little house to break into and sleep the night away?
A shrug from you and Dabi clicks his tongue, snaps his fingers and lights his cigarette with a pretty blue flame. He takes a draw and breathes smoke out into your face and he laughs when you whine, when you squirm on his lap.
"Dabi, you're so mean."
"Oh, I'm mean now? You didn't think I was so mean earlier when I was bashin' in that fucker's face for ya."
Your cheeks flare at the memory and Dabi sneers whenever you bite your lip- gloating, smug, undeniably arrogant over the way your muddy eyes get just that much more hazy at the recollection.
It was some perv- some handsy guy with too much coke up his nose, too much whiskey in his system. He had cornered you when Dabi had went to the bathroom, had grabbed onto you and laughed at your stuttered panic, had tried to run his hands up your skirt. He’d been dumb enough not to keep an eye out for Dabi and god when Dabi had come to find you, he had melted that jerk’s face with a flaming punch.
You can still smell the stink of burning skin. You can still feel the ache in your wrist when Dabi had squeezed onto it tight with a snarl.
A shiver runs through you and you squirm on Dabi’s lap, swallow and dig your teeth deeper into your lip when he runs those piercing eyes of his over you.
“You know, princess,” he drawls, “you never thanked me for that.”
You didn’t? You could have sworn you had...
“I- I’m sorry, Dabi,” you mumble- meek, genuinely apologetic and genuinely upset that you weren’t a good little girl that had thanked him like you should have. “Thank you, Dabi. Thank you for savin’ me.”
A snort, something smug in his eyes, and Dabi takes a draw of his cigarette, blows the smoke out through his nose. You’d almost giggle at it if it weren’t for the way his fingers dig deep enough into your skin that you’re left whimpering instead.
“You’re losin’ those good manners of yours, sweetheart,” he huffs. “Am I gonna have to teach you a lesson?”
A- a lesson? Oh, no no no- not a lesson.
Dabi’s lessons are so cruel. Making you kneel on concrete with a bar of soap jammed in your mouth until you’re sobbing and gagging, puking up bile. Spanking you with a flaming hand until you can’t sit down for a good month. Fucking you in the bar right in front of the League, making you cry out your sins while they watch him scorch his palm prints into your waist.
They’re so cruel.
But you never forget your lessons. You’re always so good after them- so well behaved for him.
Another whimper and you shake your head quickly, get your drunken mind spinning from the desperation. You press up against him and you curl your fingers tight into his shirt, try and fail to keep your lips from wobbling and your eyes from glistening.
“N- no, daddy, please,” you whine, plead. “I- I’m a good girl. I’m sorry- I promise!”
Dabi scoffs, cigarette bobbing in his mouth, and he runs his hand down to your thigh, pushes it up until he can poke his spindly fingers against your panties.
“Yeah? Then why the fuck are you so wet?”
Wet? You’re...are you really wet?
Your eyes widen and you’re left gasping whenever he nudges your panties to the side, when a skinny digit runs along your slit.
“Fuckin’ soaked,” he sneers. “What kinda good girl is this fuckin’ drenched on the subway?”
“D- Daddy-”
Fingers plunge into your mouth and your words get cut off in a gurgle, a garbled whine slips from you as they push down on your tongue, as his rings scrape against the roof of your mouth, as you taste yourself.
Oh- oh you really are wet.
A whimper trembles out around his digits and Dabi’s sneer grows as he plunges his fingers deeper into your mouth.
“Such a little slut,” he mocks. “A bad little girl with a sopping little cunt.”
No! No! You’re not bad! You’re not!
Tears well up in your eyes and drench your lashes faster than they usually do- how can they not when you’re drunk and ashamed? How can they not when Dabi’s fingers jam down so deep in your throat that his knuckles are past your teeth?
You gag- still trying to plead even as you do- and Dabi takes a draw from his cigarette, stabs it out on the empty seat next to him without even looking.
“Oh, baby, you’re just so fuckin’ hopeless, aren’t ya?” he taunts- so sickly fake with his sympathy, with the hollow sweetness in his voice. “You can’t help it, huh? Can’t help being wet for daddy.”
No, you can’t help it. You really, really can’t. Not with the way he’s practically trained you to need him. Not with the way he has you so tightly wrapped around his finger.
You whimper, again, as you try to shake your head and you make yourself gag even harder as you do, make yourself drip tears all down your cheeks and onto your lap.
“Da- Da- Daddy...”
It’s so garbled and pathetic, so hopelessly pitiful. Dabi’s eyes go half-shut as you try to gurgle out your drunken apologies and he clicks his tongue as drool drips down his wrist.
“Messy little skank,” he huffs- this time truly fond in his own rough way. That makes it better, a little, and you sniffle whenever he pulls his fingers from your mouth, cough and spill spit all over you as you try to catch your breath.
Dabi dips his drool drenched fingers under your skirt and you gasp, mewl as they plunge into your cunt, moan so loud it echoes through the empty car whenever he curls his digits deep inside of you.
“Daddy, please!”
A snort, a scoff- Dabi’s lips twist into a smirk right as his wrist does and you collapse against his chest, tremble with a little sob.
“Oh, angel,” he hums, “are you begging me to fuck ya right here? On the subway? Where anyone could get on and see you creaming on my cock?”
Yes? No? You don’t know.
It’s so hard to think with the liquor in your veins. It’s so hard to think with the way his fingers brush against your sweet spot with each curl, each pump he gives them.
It’s so hard to think when Dabi’s disciplined you to go absolutely dumb at just the simplest of touches.
You whimper and a hot huff of air brushes against your cheek, his free hand reaches until he can grab you by the hair, yank your head back until you’re forced to look at him through your bleary eyes.
“I asked you a question, princess,” he drawls- words sharp with a threat, eyes narrowing as you whimper once more.
“I- I- Daddy, I’m sorry...”
Slurred, stupid- at least it has his face flickering into something amused. His fingers still curl tighter in your hair, though, and you sniffle as your cunt clenches around him, as your hips try to stutter against his hand.
“Daddy, please! I want- I want it...”
Dabi snorts and you whine as his fingers slip from you, as he brings them up to his lips and gives them a lick. They’re so shiny even in the dingy light of the subway and seeing those glossy digits has your pussy throbbing, your cheeks flaring, a whimpering mewl crawling out from your throat.
“‘Course you want it,” he drawls, swiping his fingers down your shirt. “But you ain’t going to get it.”
What? But that’s not fair!
Your mouth flies open and tears drip down your cheeks as you try to protest, but Dabi grabs onto your jaw before you can speak so much as a word and he squeezes your face tight, sneers at the squeak that leaves you.
“Maybe at the hideout,” he taunts. “Maybe if you’re a good little girl and show me how thankful you are that I didn’t let that asshole fuck your dumb ass.”
He would have- he wouldn’t have...would he?
A sob from you and Dabi huffs, something softens in his expressions as you warble out a “no, please, ‘m yours” to him in a drunken, pleading whimper. A click of his tongue and his grip on your face loosens before he gives your cheek a wet little smack, before he rolls his eyes at you.
“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles. “As if I’d let anyone fuck my girl.”
His girl...his girl. That’s right- you’re his girl.
You sniffle, still tangled up in your upset, and Dabi clicks his tongue again before shaking his head.
“So pathetic,” he snorts. “Fuckin’ dumb, pretty thing.”
This time when you whimper it’s misty eyed and pleased, full of undying need and accompanied by trembling lips, a rock of your hips. Dabi scoffs, softly, and his hands grip your waist, force you to stillness.
“Be good for daddy,” he tells you- orders you. “Or you won’t get fuckin’ nothin’ but a whuppin’ when we get home.”
You don’t- you don’t want a whuppin’. You can be good.
Sniffling once more, you nod and rest yourself against his chest, nuzzle into his neck with a shuddering little mewl.
“I’ll be good, daddy,” you promise- soft, sincere, words just whiny enough to make him huff. “I promise.”
“That’s my girl.”
A snap of fingers, a deep inhale, the scent of a freshly lit cigarette. You melt into Dabi as he smokes and you close your eyes, let yourself be rocked into something content and almost peaceful by the gentle swaying of the subway car- a smile on your lips and tears drying on your cheeks, your cunt throbbing with more and more need with each passing stop.
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lovedinapastlife · 3 years
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Rec List
Hey. It’s me. Sunlit Garden on AO3. If you would like to find a bughead fic, beta, be long-term groomed with positive feedback and helpfulness, then have your self-confidence chipped away, be isolated from other support systems, be negged, insulted, and emotionally harassed/toyed with to output to her idea of perfection -- or find someone who did this to others and will most likely weasel their way into doing it again -- I recommend none other than jandjsalmon, the gal who runs theblueandgoldoffice - a handy fic-finding website.
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I made a prior post about my personal experience but apparently not everyone knew it was her because I didn’t name her specifically. Hopefully, this is the last post I’ll ever make about her. A lot of wonderful people reached out with similar experiences or sympathy but I’ve also seen some continue to interact with her or rec her as someone to follow. Now, I’m putting it in the tags. Her name is out there. If I see her on rec lists, at least I know the info is out there that she abused me and others and whoever posted didn’t want to deal with having to deal with her bullshit of her harassing them or they think I’m a liar. I have nothing to lose in this fandom or to gain by outing her. I’m doing it because I don’t want her to be introduced to new waves of authors/readers/people will trust her without protecting themselves or doing something to protect others. Unfortunately, me and the victims I talked to did not feel comfortable sharing how much she hurt us with each other until she’d done a fair amount of damage, and we were all trying to make it work with her until we hit a breaking point.
As a reminder... this is just a potential scenario based on past experience.
If you do become mutuals, and she thinks you have an ounce of fandom fame or MIGHT post things she likes if she bugs you enough, she might make you aesthetics, reblog, comment, buddy up to your friends to get closer to you, find out and exploit your insecurities or mental illness, notably withdraw support to prove a point if you like something she doesn’t or even show love for another person who doesn’t love her, keep records of your convos, show them to other people, vague post about you (sometimes even going so far as to message you without you even asking to make sure you know ‘oh it wasn’t about you’ to rub salt in that wound), let her husband talk shit about and to you even when on good terms with her, and try to get involved in your personal life to be your (only) best friend and support system... only to tell you you are nothing without her, people rely on her for recs and she can turn the tides on fandom favorites, you should not write original works because original romance is “disgusting” YA is “immature” and no one likes your work and your mind is too fucked up to be productive without her. No one will love you or have time for you like her.
She will insist you include scenes even if you don’t want them there, then try to claim she helped write your fic in the comments of it when all she did was tell you to add something you already wrote and deleted back in, though she did comment on the doc and talk through your million ideas and pick her favorite OF YOUR OWN IDEAS and help with grammar. She will also tell you at least one of your fics is disgusting and berate you to the point of not wanting to post it, especially if it shows Betty even slightly interested in someone besides Jughead at some point in her life, claiming “that’s not her!” but OOC or Jughead with past/current partners is no problem... and she will be very apologetic to have to tell you and make you feel bad, but brag in DMs of her friends that she “made you change your mind” and “taught you how to think” if you eventually cave and adjust something. Conversations become drags where you agree with what she says just to avoid confrontations and meltdowns sometimes.
If you talk to her and try to rebuild your friendship or set boundaries, she will either lash out or apologize and be good for a few days until she can find a reason to turn on you again. When you distance yourself for protection or make new friends, she will harass you in DMs asking why you unfollowed (even if it’s a tumblr glitch) or followed so and so, why you did or didn’t like something, tell you how awful everyone except her is, and try to get you to talk shit about your own friends when you know she’s talking shit about you, too.
Oh and if you compliment her on something you’re considered good at that she’s insecure about (prompted or unprompted), be prepared to be called a fake liar and a judgmental bitch in general for having an opinion -- yes, even if it’s positive, so imagine how fun it was to disagree on something neither of us even made.
She is not a neutral party when it comes to abuse and harassments either. Despite being very anti-cheating, she stoutly defends the Sprouse brothers despite multiple women and outlets coming forward claiming they cheated on or abused their partners, claiming the sources are “crazy” or “jealous” or “unprofessional.” I have some pretty ironic in retrospect screenshots someone sent me of some of her rants but I won’t post them publicly here. What Jandy told me of her former victims was that they blocked her for no reason. She was nothing but supportive of them and they got too big for their britches and had other friends and abandoned her. I’m sure she says similar if not worse things about me for calling her out and cutting her off.
So yeah, it will be uncomfortable to unfollow, ghost, and/or block her. It might even be inconvenient because of the service she provides to this fandom. But please keep in mind that even the slight fear/dread of her shadow-banning or harassing you is a sign that she’s affected you, too.
If you really miss that one extra comment per chapter, hit me up. I’ve got a lot going on but I’ll make an exception for people who need that extra support as long as I can. For additional support, please see local and online organizations to talk to a professional or volunteer trained to help with emotional abuse, toxicity, depressive, or anxious thoughts like therealdepressionproject. Good luck and have a wonderful day.
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bubblegumflavor · 2 years
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I'm so tired.. can we please finally decide how old Daniel LaRussa is?? Considering his birthday he turns 18 in the movie. In Germany he is 15. Here Ralph says he's 16 but Johnny is a year younger right? So is he 16 too and Daniel turns 17??? I need some consistency here!! Should I even trust a source that calls him Daniel LaRussa ??? 🥲🥲🥲
This post was meant to be in a more joking way but some people are always out for conflict even if there isn't a single reason for it.
Calls me a person who "can't be helped"... for what? Telling you facts? lol
For me saying you pick your version, I pick mine and I made my peace with the inconsitensy?
Anyway, thanks to everyone for the kind input and sharing how you deal with the inconsitensy! I loved reading your tags as always! =D
For those who were confused about my confusion: If you google Daniel's and Johnny's birthdays, all sources will tell you Daniel is born 1966 and Johnny 1967, which makes him a year younger. I think Daniel is in the same year as Johnny and Ali because they have gym class together and stuff and 17~18 is the age for senior year. So it makes sense that Daniel is 17 and turns 18 which would line up with him being born 1966. But not him participate in the under 18 tournament twice.
Because I am a fanfiction writer who is very in love with getting the facts right, it's driving me crazy that there is no real canon age for Daniel to some degree, but not too seriously, so there was literally no reason to be an ass. There is no right, so why fight about it?
Anyway, that person is blocked so will hopefully never bother me again..
I want this place to stay free from toxic people
This is also kind of my diary and sometimes I just want to get something out of my system without discussing it over and over and when I reply to you that I already made my peace with it, please don't be salty about me not wanting your "help", lol. I never asked for it. I know your listed facts. I know all the obvious facts, I researched for hours. This was never a problem that could be solved in the first place... IT SAYS DANIEL LARUSSA XD
that was the point, I hoped it would make people laugh like I did, not end in a conflict that made me feel shitty for having to block someone.. :/
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katsuhera · 4 years
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part i: finding a diamond in the rough [you’re my haven mini-series]
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this is: part i | part ii | series masterlist
pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (y/n)
summary: you’re alone in nyc, struggling to warm up to the mundane routine of corporate life. levi is a bartender at your favorite hole-in-the-wall, where you go to ruminate and unwind. he’s noticed you for a while, when will you notice him back?
tw/warnings: alcohol, language (cursing)
wc: 2.2k
a/n: i just wanted to clarify that this series will not end in fluff/sfw (it was labeled as such on my masterlist/etc, but i’ll be updating that to reflect the changes. this series will eventually become nsfw and the chapters in question will be tagged accordingly! 
if you are a minor, please do not interact with my nsfw (18+) content. also, i’ll try my best to update this series as often as possible but daily updates will likely not be happening. i’m sorry to all those who enjoyed the daily updates for keep it on the low! i will try my absolute best to make up for it with quality content💖 that said, i hope you enjoy!
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god damn these stupid idiots, your eyebrows furrowing in anger as you tried to keep your composure on the subway ride home. thankfully, you had a seat - otherwise, you weren’t sure if you’d have kept your calm.
fuck pr and fuck all of these entitled assholes, you seethed.
you were in charge of one of the more irritating clients, and being a younger assistant, you had little say over which clients you took. your client’s company had been struggling for a while, as many of its higher level employees were caught in a money laundering scandal. and recently, several of its employees spoke out against the company, claiming to have suffered from discrimination and bias in the workplace.
you hated having to handle public relations for a company like that, but it wasn’t up to you - they paid good money to your agency so that they could bullshit and lie their way out of their scandals, and you were but a cog in the corporate workplace.
oh, how you loved adulting.
how were you even supposed to cover up scandals like that? you felt nothing but disgust for the higher-ups who worked there, and couldn’t help but direct some of that annoyance towards yourself as well for having to come up with a plan to salvage the company.
you thought back to all of your classes in college, your university professors spewing bullshit and telling you that pr is all about storytelling, that you and your peers were all in pr because you were great ‘storytellers.’ yeah right, you scoffed inwardly. storytelling? what a euphemism for blatant lying.
you were jaded. you hated the system. but were you going to do anything about it? could you do anything about it? not at this point, anyway. maybe sometime in the future when you’d finally made enough money to support yourself - hopefully it wouldn’t be too late or hypocritical then to take a stand against toxic corporate culture and capitalism.
8th Street - NYU, rang the monotone subway announcer’s voice. jolting from your inner fury, you got up hastily and left the train, following the crowd. the only thing saving you from spontaneously combusting at that moment was the thought of a whiskey sour at Scout’s.
you let out a deep sigh as you slowly climbed the stairs out of the station. your feet hurt, your body sore from the stress you kept bottled inside throughout the week. hitching your bag higher onto your shoulder, you crossed the street and headed straight for your safe space.
the one thing you hated about Scout’s was that you had to pass by a group of glitzier bars, frequented mainly by a louder crowd. not that they had ever been overtly disrespectful or rude to you, but they were definitely rowdier and usually drunker - not what you wanted to be around after an awful 8-hour workday.
pushing the heavy door, you were welcomed by the bar’s clean, woody scent. other bars tended to reek of alcohol - as one would expect them to, but Scout’s was always clean. you appreciated that.
wearily, you took a seat at the bar this time, feeling like you needed a change of pace today. as you got settled, the bartender caught your eye.
“what can i get you?”
you opened your mouth to answer: a whiskey sour, you almost answered - that was your regular order. pausing, you decided to go try something new.
“a grapefruit daiquiri, please.” you’ve had your fair share of fruity drinks, but found that once you graduated, you’d started to drift towards other cocktails and liquors your college self would have rejected. but… maybe the fruity kick could raise your spirits tonight.
“sure,” the bartender responded, turning away. you felt bad for him - he almost looked bored.
i mean, it would make sense if he was, you thought inwardly. this place isn’t the busiest, he is probably pretty bored.
the bar’s brass lights reflected off of his raven black hair, highlighting his crisp undercut. you absentmindedly watched him make your drink, not realizing how blatantly you were staring at him. you’d only snapped out of your dazed fervor when you heard his voice again.
“this drink seems unlike something you’d order,” he said simply, placing it in front of you.
surprised, your eyebrows lifted.
“what do you mean?”
he shrugged. “your go-to’s a whiskey sour.”
“and how do you know that?” you challenged, surprised at how plainly he spoke.
“because i make it for you every friday,” he scoffed.
oh. that makes sense, you thought. if you could roll your eyes at yourself, you would have. 
“i see.” your eyes wandered down to the nametag on his shirt - levi.
“well, levi, thanks… i guess.”
“for?”
“for making my whiskey sours every friday.”
“mmm,” he grunted.
“what? did i say something wrong?”
“no,” he replied, holding your gaze. “but now that i think about it, i make your weekly whiskey sours and yet i don’t know your name.”
you weren’t expecting that. “oh,” you snorted, surprised. “i’m y/n.”
levi half-smiled, looking down, busying his hands with a rag. “hi, y/n. it’s nice to finally put the name to a face.” ‘y/n’ is definitely better than ‘friday happy hour girl,’ he thought.
you sipped on your drink thoughtfully, perplexed at how you weren’t irritated right now. you certainly entered Scout’s with a bad mood, but you somehow felt it dissipating.
“so why do you come here only on friday’s?” he asked, turning to look at you. levi had been meaning to finally ask you that - ever since you started to become a regular, he found himself interested in you, your personality, why you always only came alone.
you paused, wondering if he was genuinely curious, or if you should spare him the sob story. after taking another sip, you settled for the summary.
“work sucks,” you said flatly.
it was levi’s turn to snort. “no shit.”
you lifted your drink up, ‘cheers’ing the air. you liked him already.
“what do you do?” he pressed.
“are you sure you wanna know? it’s a long story, but it’s not interesting.”
“try me,” he said simply. he gestured to the sparse number of patrons in the bar. “it’s not like i’m busy.”
you quirked an eyebrow, but decided to indulge him.
you went on about your dreams in college, being brainwashed into thinking about how vital communications are and how they’re present in every single facet of life - which, objectively, is true - but you hadn’t realized how so much of it is filled with absolute bullshit until you got a real job. a real job, ironically, at the top agency you’d worked towards since you were a freshman and found out what an internship was.
“so now, everyday i wake up to the same bullshit meetings and meaningless emails just so i can use my degree to help filthy assholes worm out of problems they created for themselves,” you explained, downing your drink.
levi was thoroughly amused, though he knew that now wasn’t the time to laugh. he listened intently, cleaning shot glasses with a towel. you wouldn’t have realized, but levi appreciated your opinions… a lot. it made you human, he thought.
“so what’s your plan?” he asked, curious.
“my plan for what?”
“escaping the corporate bullshit.”
you studied his face, cupping your chin in your hand as you rested your elbow on the table. levi seemed to legitimately want to know. “don’t have one.”
“mmm.”
“thanks,” you said, rolling your eyes. you handed your empty glass to him. “another, please.”
levi took your glass, smoothly mixing the ingredients for your second drink. “i mean, you don’t have to have another plan. you just seem to hate what you have going for you.”
“yeah, i do,” you answered. “but who am i to try and look for something different or more exciting? my goal is to make enough money to live comfortably and take care of my parents so that we don’t have to worry about money for the rest of our lives.”
he shrugged. “fair. no one’s blaming you. it just seems like you could do with a little more… something in your life.”
“i really could,” you said. if only i had friends here, you thought deplorably.
“you don’t have any friends here?”
crap. did i say that out loud? the alcohol was getting to you - you’d forgotten how unsuspecting fruitier drinks seemed; they tasted like juice and hit you like a truck when you least needed it.
“nope,” you sighed. “i’m the only one from my college friend group who moved here for work. my best friend’s in boston, but the rest of my friends are on the west coast.”
“ah,” he said, handing you your second drink. “also, take it slow with the drinks. you have the symptoms of someone who’s about to be drunk but doesn’t realize it yet.”
you crinkled your eyebrows. “what? what makes you say that?”
“i’m a bartender. i have instincts.”
sinking your cheek further into your palm, you gave him a once-over. his face was serious, but his stone-gray eyes twinkled in amusement.
“yeah, whatever,” you huffed, but took only a tiny sip. levi was right, and you knew it. he smirked before leaving to tend to another customer.
you turned your attention to your phone, seeing a few notifications. christa, your best friend, had texted you.
christa: wanna facetime later? christa: i have tea!!
you smiled. christa always had tea. keeping up with the drama in her life was one of the only things keeping you from going utterly insane.
you: sure, i’ll be home soon you: like in an hour?
you wanted to give yourself some time to sober and wash up - an hour seemed like decently enough time.
christa: 15 minutes? you: im not home right now though christa: it’s ok!!!
giving in, you couldn’t help but smile while texting her back. must be some important tea, you mused.
you: okayyyy okay, sure
you switched apps to instagram, distractedly scrolling while you tried to down your drink. you may be drunk but you were sober enough to think about getting your money’s worth.
“oi oi oi, stop drinking so fast,” levi said alarmedly, rushing back to grab your drink.
you looked up, surprised. “oh, but i have to go soon.” 
he seemed displeased with your answer.
“what does that have to do with you chugging a daiquiri?”
“it would be a waste!”
levi sighed in disbelief at your response. “i’ll only charge you for the first one, how about that? it’s on me, because of… capitalism. the shitty system that you hate.”
you laughed, the first genuine laugh to escape you in god knows how long.
“capitalism has finally done something for me,” you said, the sound of your laughter like twinkling chimes to levi’s ears. “okay, fine. i won’t chug. but i do have to go.”
levi snatched the drink away from you before you could take back your words. “do you have someone waiting for you? are you going to get back alright?”
you grinned, the alcohol loosening you up. you’d forgotten about your work issues for the moment; now, you were just touched that the bartender you met today seemed to actually care for your wellbeing.
“i’ll be fine, i live nearby. thank you, though,” you said. you hoped your sincerity came through in those last few words.
“bye, y/n,” levi said suspiciously, handing you back your credit card. “see you next friday.”
“see you next friday!” you said, getting up. you gave him a little wave, and you were out the door.
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“hello?” christa answered, confused.
“huh? you told me to call you in 15 minutes!” you said, glancing down at your screen as you shifted your bag higher up on your shoulder.
“oh, i wasn’t expecting you to actually call me on time,” she laughed.
“are you walking somewhere?” you asked, studying her background. the camera jolted with each step she took, and you could see her hair bouncing behind her.
“uh… yes.”
“are you going to be home soon? it’s dark out, you need to be careful,” you said, worried.
she rolled her eyes at you. “bitch, aren’t you out walking and talking to me right now? and uh, yes i will sort of be home soon.”
“‘sort of’? what does that mean?” you watched her, trying your best to scan for any creeps visible in her background.
her eyes lit up, smiling at something. “turn around!”
“huh?” bewildered, you turned your head just slightly before something crashed into you from behind.
“HELLO!!!!” christa shouted into your ear. you winced at the ringing of her voice coming in from both your earbuds and your actual ears.
you stared dazedly at her. “what the fuck? what are you doing here?”
christa pouted. “i thought you’d be happier to see me.”
honestly, you still weren’t sure if you were seeing things or if christa had really just shown up out of nowhere. you decided to test it with a forehead flick.
“ow! what was that for?”
“wait, you’re really here,” you said half-apologetically, laughing. you pulled her back into a hug, sinking into it. you really, really missed your best friend. “hello, i missed you, bitch.”
she giggled, hugging you even tighter. “i missed you, too. i hope you don’t mind, but the ‘home’ i said i was heading to earlier was yours. i’m sleeping over.”
“tch. where else would your broke ass stay? yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s just a few blocks down.”
“yay!!” christa grinned, hooking her arm through yours. “let’s go!”
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[TAGLIST; dm me if you’d like to be added!]
@chrollosheadband​​ @redhairedace @fluffyleviackerman​
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back to series masterlist
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ffxiv-angora · 3 years
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Day 27: Benthos
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Tagging @caspianking and @liyeraaurel for mentions~
It wasn’t often that Altani ventured out from the tribe on her own. This wasn’t because she was nervous or anything like that. Not at all. She simply had a lot of work to do back home. Like staring at the desert from a guard post. Or cleaning every piece of gear she could find. Today was a bit different. Rin and Zaya were both visiting home about the same time tomorrow so...Altani wanted to have a gift for them. Like any good partner would do!
Normally she would find something within the volcano or local area to make a gift with. But this time she wanted to think a bit more out of the box. That meant traveling to the neighboring Yanxia. One of her tribemates who’d been there recently spoke of how you could possibly dig up pearls and beautiful shells from the bottom of the river. Altani had her doubts seeing as that sounded more like the Red Sea instead of some river, but it was worth a shot. Surely she’d be able to find something.
You would think that swimming was the last thing that someone who not only grew up in a desert but also in a volcanic cave system. Altani was actually a decent swimmer. You never know when you might need a skill like that. Plus sometimes it was nice to have cold water on her scales instead of scalding hot sand and rock. It was actually here in the Yanxia river that she’d learned how to swim. Now, diving was different. It shouldn’t be too hard! Right? Just hold your breath and swim towards the sand. Sure.
It didn’t take too long to make her way over to the river with the help of one of the tribe drakes. She’d managed to pawn off her guard shift onto a younger warrior for the small price of letting him punch her in the face later. An…odd request. But an easy one. The younger generation confused her. As long as she didn’t get a black eye right before her partners returned.
Altani slowly wandered her way to the edge of the water where it gently lapped up onto the shore, tugging at the smooth rocks and small plants. The gods had blessed her with a warm day. Her tail wouldn’t completely freeze off. She wouldn’t completely strip down either. Not that the flowy undershirt and loose shorts she wore would do much in terms of keeping warm.
She tests the water with a toe first. It wasn’t terrible. Still colder than she’d like but Altani was determined. Might as well get it over with. Altani takes a deep breath before charging into the water. Gods, it was chilly. But with the help of a few strong kicks and some flicks of her tail, the Au Ra finds herself in the middle of the river. Now it was time for the hard part.
Her face is dunked first to get a good idea of what she was working with. The water was surprisingly clear! The only issue was this part of the river was fairly shallow. Even at the deepest point, she was still able to stand without issue. All that she’d be able to find here is a bunch of river stones and whatever little creatures lived in the sand. Perhaps...if she moved further down the river where it opened up to the sea? All sorts of interesting things could be there. Altani sighed, pushing off to start the long swim down the river. This would just be a warmup! Totally planned. The drake she’d brought along her looked less than pleased, but followed her from the shore nonetheless.
While she’d expected the end of the river to be marginally deeper...Altani hadn’t quite expected for it to be that deep. Even when she sunk down enough to be fully submerged she couldn’t quite make out the bottom. Living within the cave system of a volcano full of toxic gasses had thankfully blessed her people with strong lungs. Hopefully, it would be enough to carry her to the bottom and back. Only one way to find out! Altani surfaces for just a moment to point a finger at the increasingly bored drake onshore.
“Stay! Will be back soon!”
The drake just gives her a slow blink in response. It’d already curled up in the sand to get comfortable. Altani shrugs. Good enough. Might as well not waste any more time. The Au Ra closes her eyes, taking the deepest breath she could manage before diving back down below the water’s surface. Her eyes burned when she forced them open to take in the sight in front of her. Everything was...blurry. At least it got a bit better as her eyes adjusted. Perhaps she should have brought goggles. Too late now!
Down she went. Further, further, and further. It felt like the sand below just continued to move away from her the longer she swam. A whisper in her mind told her to just turn back, but Altani ignored it. She’d come this far, so she was determined to bring something back for her troubles. Even as she finally reached the massive boulders that sat on the riverbed, Altani pushed herself deeper. All the way down to the sand. That is where the real treasures would be hidden.
Altani dug her fingers into the cool sand and used her tail to push herself every so often so she could keep close to the bottom. All sorts of things had settled here. Rusted pieces of scrap metal from the nearby Garlean fort, other remnants of war such as arrowheads and bullets, splinters of wood, and colorful shards of glass that had been smoothed into beautiful translucent pebbles. There were also all kinds of shells and...questionable bones. Surely they belonged to an animal. Anything that could possibly be used was greedily shoved into her pockets. Her time was limited here.
She’d been about to push off and begin the long swim back to the surface when a glint caught her attention. Something far more reflective than anything else she’d picked up. Altani’s head tilts and she pulls herself along the sand. It takes some digging, but it’s worth it! What she found was a beautifully ornate necklace made of gold that had one of the largest gemstones she’d ever seen. Along with it was an equally detailed hand mirror. Clearly, these had belonged to someone important. Well...as much of a shame that it was that they lost them, they were Altani’s now. A reflection in the hand mirror pulls Altani’s eyes upward. It’s only then that she really takes in her surroundings.
This was not Altani’s first time underwater. It was her first time this deep, though. The view was...breathtaking. She desperately wished she had a way to share it with her partners. The sun was filtering through the relatively calm waters, causing shadows to dance about. Casting most of those shadows was the impossibly large seaweed that nearly stretched the full distance from the sand to the surface. All sorts of fish and aquatic life swam about. Schools of smaller fish would dart between the swaying seaweed. Altani could only imagine how colorful the fish in the Red Sea were.
This place was so peaceful. The only sound was the bubbles that would escape from Altani’s mouth every so often. She could spend a whole day just floating there and staring back at the surface. There was nothing like this back home. Sadly, the burning in her lungs reminded her that she did not belong here. Altani frowns and uses her legs to push off as hard as she can to shoot back to the surface. It was time for her to leave this serene place and return to the world above. That was okay, though. The world above had Rin and Zaya. That’s all that mattered to her.
Someday she’d return here with a way to stay below the water as long as she wanted. For now, she had some gifts to deliver.
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holy shit
i've done it that was a lot see it all here (sidenote lucian is my boi)
Hanuman was ready. The Elite 4 was going down, and this Dustox especially was going down.
The Dustox cast a Light Screen to protect itself, but Hanuman had already Worked himself Up. He sprayed a Flamethrower, only to be sprayed back by a Toxic. No good. He had a time limit now. And that Full Restore didn't help. Nevertheless, he kept breathiog a stream of fire, and the Dustox was fried to a crisp. He even got the Poison out of his system!
Next was a Heracross, which Hanuman Flamethrowered again. It survioved, however, and slammed the ground in an Earthquake. Oh o. But he saw his Trainer had an idea. Quickly he tag-teamed with Ea-Nasir, who took a Brick Break, then another. But he kept a Calm Mond then blasted it wih a Psychic, and it went down.
Next was Thetis vs- Oooh, pretty butterfly! Time to freeze it! She blasted it with an Ice Beam and it fell to the floor as a frozen lump.
Next was... A Vespiquien? Oh no. Bees! She Ice Veamed it again but it managed to sting with an Attack Order. Ouchh.. Another Ice Beam, but the Vespiquien was Acrobatic and hit her hard. Finally, washing a wave over it with Surf took it out. Phew!
Finally was Scathatch vs. a Drapion. Tough, but she could taske it, hopefully. She dashed and whirled in a Swords Dance, even as the drapion Night Slashed her, then went for an Earthquake, knocking the Drapion asunder.
Hmph. Some bugs these were.
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The Great And Proud Narcissus The Roserade Esquire felt this seemed simple. A Ground-type Trainer with a Quagsire.He could take care of this!
He promptly Giga Drained it into submission, and it was replaced by A Whiscash, which met the same fate despite a Berry.
Next was Thetis vs,. a Sudfowoodo! She made her Tail Glow but the Sudowoodo slammed her with a Giga Impact. Shne slammed it back with a wall of water of a Suirf, knocking it out.
Next was a Golem which Thetis tried to do the same to - but it survived by being Sturdy! Oh no was that an Earth-
Ea-Nasir had to clean up a mess again. Sigh. The Golem got sprayed with a Full Restore but he just Calmed his Mind and then promptly blasted the thing with Flash Canons until it went down.
Next was a Hippowdon. Ea-Nasir calmed his mind for this more for his- oh no a Cruin-
Now Narcissus had to clean up Ea-Nasir's merss! He Gigfa Drained it, only to be slammed by an Earthquake
That wasn't so simple after all...
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Thetis was in awe. Wow, another cool Rapidash! And she was fighting it!
She hit with a Surf, slamming it against the side of the arena with a THUD, and it was replaced with a Steelix! OOh, big.
She promptly made her Tail Glow, but the Steelix bit her with a Thunder Fang! Ow,,, She did the same to it as she did the Rapidash.
Lopunny? Sur- Wait, it survived? Oh no, a Mirror Coa-
Hanuman's turn. Time to show this dumb bunny who was vboss.
The Lopunny got sprayed with a Full Restore, but it didn't matter. Beating the shit out of it with a Close Combat did the trick.
Next was Louhi vs... a Driftblim again? Just like old times! She tried to Thunderbolt it, but it hung on and hexed her with a Will-o-Wisp;! Then it shrunk itself with Minimize! That's CHEATING! Thankfully she survived a Strength Sap and blasted it away with a Shadow Ball.
Finally was Scathatch vs.Infernape. This was weird. It fe.lt like she was fighting Hanuman. But Hanuman would want her to do this. Probably.
The Infernape slammed into her with its fists in a Close Combat, but she remained steady and wracked the ground with an Earthquake. It survived via a combination of a Focus sash it washolding and a Full Restore sprayed on it, but another Earthquake fixed that.
Well, Scathatch HOPED Hanuman was proud.
-------------
Ah what was this? Louhi was fighting a Mr. Mime! Witch vs. mime, the ultimate showdown!
She made a Nasty Plot even as the Mr. Mime tried to Reflect, then blasted it back with a Shadow Ball. Alakazam trying to Future Sight? Shadow Ball.
Then it was Scathatch's turn, vs. a Girafarig. She didn't like how that tail-head was looking at her. Nevertheless she Swords Danced, even as the Girafarig cast a Trick Room on the floor.Sathatch got blasted by Psychics from the Girafarig and the Future Sight from the now-fainted Alakazam, but shje toughed it out asndf but down on the Girafarig multiple times with Crunch, eventually causing it to slump over.
Back to Louhi! Ow, that Medichamm! Ow, that Zen Headbutt hurt. But she phased through the next one, concocted a Nasty Plot, then took it out with a Shadow Ball.
Finally was a Bronzxongf Not Shiny like Ea-Nasir though. She quickly disposed of it with a Shadow Ball. Hmmm,... Ea-Nasir seemed more durable. Maybe he was right about being more high-quality.
--------------
Sathatch had heard legends of this "Spiritomb." A frightening creature born of lost souls.
It - and its "champion" of a Trainer - were going down.
It blasted her with a Pulse of Darkness but she Swords Danced and hit it with a ground-pounded Earthquake, sending it flying.
Next was Louhi vs. a Milotic. Louhi knew this Milotic had some trick up its sleeve, and promptly used Nasty Plot. It blasted her with a Scald, and- Aha! It had a Flame Orb to activate its Marvel Scale!
She started blasting it with Thundrbolts, dodging another Scald in the process. The Champion tried to Full restore, but ha, it backfired - she had paraluyzed it!
She tried to Thunderbolt it again but the Champlion had swapped it for a Roserade. Hmph. Two could play at that game. She immediately tagg teamed with Hanuman, who-
Ow. That Shadow Ball hut, and the following Sludge Bomb huret more. But he couldn't give up here. He blasted the Roserade with a Flamethrower, burning it to a crisp.
Next was The Great And Proud Narcissus The Roserade Esquire vs. a Gastrodon. Hmph. easy fare for the final fight. He promptly Giga Drained it into submission. Same with the return of the Milotic! He supposed he had to thank Louhi for warming that one up for him.
Next was Scathatch vs. a Lucario. Wepwawet.. She was sad he couldn't be here, and thus reminded her of that. But she had a job to d-
Dragon Pulse. Of cours-
Hanuman's turn. He got sprayed with a Full Restore, but then got hit by a pair of Aura Spheeres. No... He had to perserverde... Hew leaped at the Lucario, ummeling it with a Close Combat, sending it sprawling across the floor.
Finally was Ea-Nasir vs. Garchomp. This seemed to be an exceptional-quality Garchoomp, moreso than even Scathatch. Could he or his team take it?
He dodged a Dragon Claw, then Calmed his Mind to brace himself. The Garchomp used Swords Dance, then blasted it with a Psychic when it tried to Swords Dance.
A Dragon Claw sank into him. He couldnt give up now.
He channeled all his willpower, all his focus, all his faith in his teammates and TRainer he tried to desperately hide, into one more Psychic.
The Garchomp held its head, wobbled, and fell over.
Ea-Nasir stared in shocked silence. Then cheered. He had done it.
He was the highest-quality Bronzong in all of Sinnoh.
***
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zigtheeortega · 4 years
Text
out of time
✿ pairing: sienna x danny
✿ word count: 3354
✿ warnings: death, loss
✿ author’s note: well, i thought i’d just flesh out what we didn’t get to see, since i highly doubt they’ll expand on it since it’s off screen. it’s not my best work, but it was written out of spite so hopefully that makes up for the lack of quality LMAO. anyways, i tagged everybody who liked this post and added it to the end since there were quite a few! [sidenote: i wrote this post after i’d started this fic so if you see similarities, that’s why] i really hope you like it and that i did both sienna and danny justice!
•─────────✦✿✦────────•
She sprinted down the hallway, pager still beeping erratically on her hip, the weight of the numbers enough to make her feel like she was slugging through wet concrete.
No, no, not him, please, not him, she chanted to herself, vision blurring with tears before she had the chance to let the negative possibilities set in.
He’s gonna be okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.
Thankfully she was only one floor away, taking the steps two at a time, shoes squeaking against the waxy floor. Sweat formed on her brow as she shoved through the stair’s exit door, pushing past every intern in her way.
Normally she’d stop to apologize, but not today. She didn’t know how much time she had. It could be minutes, and she wasn’t going to waste even a second apologizing when someone’s life was on the line.
She saw the small crowd forming outside of the room and barrelled towards them without a second thought, tearing her way to the front.
When she saw Spencer’s terrorized gaze, her chest tightened involuntarily. Her body covered the entrance to the room, so she could barely see into the room, but she did catch a glimpse of something that made her blood run cold.
A purple pant leg strewn across the floor, ankle relaxed, unmoving, peeking out behind Spencer’s side.
“Sienna, stop. You can’t go any further,” Ethan murmured, gently holding her in place with his arm.
“But I have to – Danny – he’s –” she struggled against his grip, lip wobbling.
“Please,” he said, more of a statement than a question, like he was holding back, too, the strain in his voice enough to stop her in her tracks.
She watched, helpless, as Spencer and Rafael scrambled to seal the room, Bobby convulsing on the ground, Travis passed out, and Danny getting weaker and weaker by the second.
It was like turning on the news and seeing tragedy after tragedy – she always felt absolutely helpless. Her empathy always felt like a curse in those moments. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling everything, whether she wanted to or not.
She wrapped her arms around herself, digging her fingernails into her side, rocking from foot to foot. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Danny’s frail form on the ground.
“Hey, I came here as fast as I could,” a voice huffed at her side. She turned, met with Jackie’s concerned gaze, hands on her hips as she panted, tiny sweat stains dotting her teal scrubs.
“It’s… All of them, Jackie, –” she couldn’t find the words to quite describe the soul crushing weight of the situation.
Bobby, Rafael, Spencer, and Danny… people that had been her emotional rocks through the lowest points of her life.
Bobby was her unsung hero. He’d keep guard while she cried in the supply closet so she wasn’t disturbed, in return for a dozen of her chocolate chip cookies. After the first few times, she brought him baked goods weekly regardless of whether she had a breakdown or not.
Rafael was her empath twin, as weird as it sounded. She’d branded them that as a joke, between giggles, on her late night break at the cafeteria. Despite it being stated jokingly, it was true – they found themselves confiding in each other each time they faced a difficult situation, bonding over the fact that their jobs took a lot more out of them than the normal person.
Spencer was her late night confidante, the person who she’d crawl into bed with at 3 a.m. after having another detailed nightmare where she was cursed with endless terminal patients. There weren’t that many people she’d platonically cuddle and sob until she was a snotting mess next to.
And Danny… he was the future. He was a vision of what she’d always wanted.
It took her too long to break away from Wayne’s hold. She knew he was toxic, but she didn’t want to admit it – how was she supposed to admit that she’d been wrong for that long?
With Danny, she was comfortable. He got her in a way no one else did. He had the potential to be every single role that her friends played simultaneously.
God, and she’d told him she needed time. She hadn’t properly healed from Wayne so she needed some time before she moved on and –
Now it’s too late, she thought to herself as she watched them wheel out Travis and Danny in glass cases.
And Bobby in a body bag.
“Holy shit,” Jackie breathed, eyes widening. “Fuck – Oh my god, Sienna –”
The tears were already flowing as she slammed her face into Jackie’s chest, body wracked with inconsolable sobs.
She’d never hugged Jackie like this before, as she hated physical affection unless it was… PG-13.
Jackie stiffened, but wrapped her arms around Sienna’s shoulders, patting her back, slowly melting into the embrace.
“We’ll visit him as soon as we can,” she said in her ear, holding Sienna up as she nearly crumbled.
––––
Danny’s body was still, the only movement his heaving chest as he took shallow, labored breaths, his normally warm skin tone muted, drained of color.
“Hey, it’s me,” she called as she closed the door behind her, voice shaky, tote bag at her side. “I hope you can hear me.”
No response.
“Uh… I brought some of our favs. Secret of Ninradell and some music to play so hopefully it makes your dreams a little sweeter – ” she forced a laugh, trying to keep her brave face. “I brought some cookies that I baked last night – uh, I’m sorry they’re not fresh – I –”
Her voice cracked, and she rolled her lips together to keep her chin from trembling. She dragged a nearby chair closer to the glass box, sliding into it, never taking her eyes from his face.
God, why did it have to be you? She thought to herself, covering her mouth with her hands as she cried, her soft sobs muted by the loud machines monitoring his vitals.
She popped open the cover of the hardback, highlighter in hand. “I’m gonna read this to you, if that’s okay? I’m highlighting passages that remind me of you,” she smiled sadly, watching his eyes roll underneath their lids. He was dreaming.
“I know you hate when I mark up books. That’s the librarian speaking, huh?” She giggled, remembering the time he told her about his job in the campus library, and his deep hatred for the Dewey decimal system.
She began reading, trying her best at different accents, failing miserably, but it distracted her from reality if just momentarily.
Her year had been full of blow after crushing blow, both professionally and personally. Losing Wayne, breaking the news to terminal patients, dealing with the toll it took on her mental health, as well as dealing with an intern that was using her – she wasn’t stupid. She just would rather suck it up than have someone upset with her that was supposed to look up to her. Stupid, but she couldn’t handle the thought of disappointing another person.
Hours later, voice hoarse, pages and pages marked up, her hands stained with neon yellow ink, she was drifting off to sleep where she sat – but a groan startled her awake.
“Uhhhhhh,” he moaned, visibly in pain, writhing uncomfortably.
“Danny? Hey, I’m here,” she rushed forward to the box, pressing her hand up against the side, hoping he could feel the warmth of her hand through the glass.
“Sienna…?” He asked, eyes fluttering open and closed. He couldn’t focus on her face.
“I’m here. I’m not leaving.”
“Good,” he croaked, weakly flopping his hand to touch the glass.
He didn’t know it, but those two words were enough to strengthen her withering resolve. She fell asleep cradling the glass, arm slung over the top.
–––
She was ripped from her sleep by intense beeping from the machines surrounding Danny, and she glanced down, peering through the glass at Danny’s quivering form, switching between violent shakes and gentle shivers.
She slammed the emergency button and quickly went to work trying to find the source of the issue, waiting for the nurses to come as back up.
“Danny. Danny, stay with me. Listen to my voice. Hold on, alright? Nurses are heading here now, and we’re going to take care of you,” she said calmly, betraying her shaking hands.
They set to work immediately, trying to keep him from slipping into unconsciousness, all four nurses working swiftly, nimble fingers and precise movements, never getting into each others’ way.
Sienna watched from outside as they worked, glass box open, desperately wishing she had a hazmat suit. Ethan and Jackie observed, giving calm commands.
“Sienna!”
She turned, eyes red rimmed from crying and lack of sleep, startling Elijah as he rolled to a stop next to her.
“Jackie asked me to send an intern up to bring you a hazmat suit… but I thought I’d bring it myself, to check on you,” he said, eyebrows furrowed, handing the folded hazmat suit from his lap to her arms.
“Don’t feel like you need to talk to me right now, alright? I’ll wait out here, if you need me.” He gave her a sympathetic smile as he patted her arm.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, hastily throwing on the hazmat suit and ripping at the zipper, growing more and more frustrated as it caught on her clothes. “Come on. Come on, come on –”
“Here, let me help,” Elijah offered. “Bend down and I’ll zip it up.”
She followed his instruction and squatted as Elijah glided the zipper upwards, patting her back softly when he was done.
And like before, she had no time to thank him. She didn’t want to miss one second with Danny.
She burst into the room, not disturbing the hive-like efficiency of the nurses.
She watched as they poked and prodded and worked tirelessly to keep him conscious. There was an undeniable tension in the air, stretched so thin it could snap at any moment.
The strained atmosphere of the room didn’t come from the doctors – it came from the nurses. Sienna knew how much Danny meant to his coworkers. He was always the first to resolve conflict and make people feel at ease.
They were tight knit; losing Danny would be a crushing blow.
“Please, Jackie, tell me what’s happening,” she said between panicky breaths, unable to contain her anxiety. “I need to know.”
“We’re trying to stabilize him… but we’re not sure what’s causing him to go into shock in the first place,” Jackie said, brows furrowed.
Three long, painful minutes later, his heart rate returned to normal, his whole body in a feverish sweat.
“That took a lot out of him,” Sienna whispered, watching a nurse press a damp, cool cloth to his forehead and neck.
“You know we have to get rid of your bag, right? It’s contaminated,” Jackie grimaced, motioning to the nurse that was zipping it into a sealed bag, about to throw it away.
“No, you can’t – I didn’t even get to finish reading Ninradell to him last night,” Sienna pleaded, rushing forward to the nurse.
“You can’t take it out of this room,” Ethan shook his head, his statement dismissive, but his tone of voice sympathetic.
“Can I at least finish reading it to him? I promise I’ll dispose of it properly. I just… I need some more time with him.”
“I don’t think –” “I’ll stay with her,” Jackie nodded, holding Ethan’s gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll page you if anything happens.”
With one firm tilt of his chin, he left the room, presumably towards Spencer and Rafael.
“We think he can hear what’s going on around him, so it’s actually a great idea to read to him,” Jackie said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It might help pull him through this.”
Jackie grabbed the bag from the nurse wordlessly, handing it back to Sienna. “You can take a break,” she said to the group of nurses anxiously huddled next to Danny. “We’ll watch over him.”
One of them started sealing the box, but Sienna stopped them with a frantic “Wait.”
“Keep it open. I’ll seal it later,” Jackie ordered gently.
She slipped into the seat next to him, holding firmly onto the edge of the glass.
Jackie must’ve noticed she was debating whether or not she should touch him, so she confirmed it for her. “You can touch him. Don’t be afraid.”
“But I am,” she said, voice cracking, tears threatening to spill. It was tiresome how much she’d cried over the past twelve hours.
She was thankful he’d held on for that long, but she had no idea when it was coming. From his steadily declining health as well as appearance, it was inevitable.
“I’m so scared,” Sienna whispered, refusing to look at her, eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest.
“You have every right to be, babe. I’m so sorry,” Jackie said, striding over to rest an arm around her shoulders.
“I… told him I needed more time to be me, you know? I needed to figure out more about me because with Wayne and with surviving last year and the stuff with Spencer and Mrs. Martinez and – and –” she cut herself off, trying to regain her composure.
“You lost sight of who you were.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it. Everything I thought I knew was thrown out the window and it’s like I haven’t even had time to recover,” she said, her voice still wavering.
“I did the same thing last year. But you can’t beat yourself up about it. You never in a million years would’ve guessed that this could happen.”
Sienna took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to unravel the tight coil in her chest. “But he was the only thing making coming to work worth it. I like him a lot and I just… told him to wait.”
“If he had a problem with that, he would’ve moved on.”
She glanced up, met with Jackie’s soft expression, sympathetic and kind – so much different than the tough exterior she was used to. “Don’t blame yourself, Sienna. It’ll break you.”
She knew she was right, but the nagging voice at the back of her mind wouldn’t allow her to let it go. 
She cracked the book open, flipping to the last page she’d read from, about two-thirds into it. But before she could start reading, Danny stirred.
His hand twitched, his fingers flexing like he was grabbing for something. Without a second thought she grasped his hand between her glove-clad palms, the book clamoring onto the ground.
“Sienna…” he whispered, trying to open his eyes, but they fluttered shut, like a weight pulling at his lashes.
She wanted desperately to see his bright eyes again, to hear him to reassure her that it’d all work out. That she’d be okay. That he’d be okay.
“Hey, I’m here,” she said, lightly squeezing her hand.
He moaned, presumably in pain, wiggling like he couldn’t stay still.
“How bad is your pain on a scale 1-10? I’m gonna count up and you squeeze my hand to stop me, alright?”
He gave a weak tilt of his chin, a single nod the only thing he could muster.
She began counting. “One… two… three…”
Nothing.
She kept counting, feeling a weak squeeze when she said “Nine.”
“I’ve never felt this bad before,” he whispered, Sienna having to lean in to hear him.
“Danny, if it’s a ten, you need to tell me,” she chewed the inside of her lip, already racking her brain for the best pain medicine that wouldn’t react with the mystery poison.
“It’s not at a ten…” He stirred, wincing, managing a weak smile. “Because you’re here with me.”
He sighed, like it took a lot out of him to say two sentences.
“That was so sweet,” she said, glancing up at Jackie, knowing her haunted expression would ruin the moment if she let him see it.
Jackie looked equally as upset, her jaw set, fists clenched at her side.
“Stop it, Dr. Varma… you’ve done –” he took another deep, shuddering breath. “You’ve done so much for me already.”
“So have you. You’re a trooper,” Jackie nodded, looking up at the ceiling. Sienna couldn’t tell if she was trying to hold back tears or keep herself from thinking about it. “Thanks for holding out for us, Danny.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can, though,” he said, gripping Sienna’s hand, opening his eyes unexpectedly.
She shook her head, holding his hand to her chest. “No, don’t think like that. You can hold on for a while longer. I believe in you.”
“Sienna… You’re my favorite person,” he breathed, looking up at her with a spark of life in his eyes, a contrast from the gaunt look of his face. His dark circles gave the allusion that his eyes were sunken in, a skeleton of who he was less than 24 hours ago.
It scared the hell out of her how quickly he changed – and how content he looked with slipping away.
“You have to let them test on me,” he squeezed her hand. “It’ll help.”
“No, you’re gonna be fine –”
“It’s okay,” he reassured her, a soft smile adorning his lips, pale and cracked. “You’ll be okay.”
He craned his neck, trying to hold his head up. Sienna slipped her hand underneath the nape of his neck, supporting him. He tilted his head forward, lightly pressing his damp forehead against her hazmat suit.
She leaned forward, pressing hers against the loose protective fabric, feeling the warmth of his skin through it. 
“You can’t go, I – your family hasn’t even gotten to visit you –” She choked, the warm tears dotting the thick plastic screen, streaking down to fall farther into her suit.
“They couldn’t get here in time,” he said, matter-of-factly.
They sat there like that for a while. Her concept of time was thrown out the window as soon as she got the initial page, so it could’ve been ten seconds or ten minutes.
“Thank you for reading to me.”
She laughed, sniffling. “We spent all night talking about Ninradell, so it was only fitting I stayed up all night to read it to you.”
Another little while passed. Talking took so much out of him, that he had to take a few breaks between his speech so he wouldn’t pass out from exhaustion. “Don’t blame yourself,” he said, cutting through the silence. “You couldn’t have stopped this.”
She stared at her hands, clasped around his own, drained of color. He’d closed his eyes, so thankfully he couldn’t see her pained expression.
“I know. I can’t help but feel responsible for everything, even when it’s out of my control… I’m so sorry,” she said, voice breaking for the millionth time. She could barely form words without choking on them.
She cursed herself for not being stronger. Overwhelming emotion was enough to render her speechless, meanwhile Danny was pushing through searing pain in order to leave her with words she’d carry with her forever.
He’d mustered his last bit of energy to tell her to be kind to herself.
The machine behind him beeped. His heart rate had slowed to a crawl, and he was gone before Jackie could spring to action.
And when his hand went limp in between her palms, she let out an inhuman wail that no one, not even Spencer, had heard before.
––––
tags: @saintniceguy ; @part-of-the-circus ; @vandalasal ; @dudebro-lahela ; @averysheart-raleighsdick ; @cptnvers ; @bringing-back-socks-with-sandals ; @la-huerta ; @ironysyndrome ; @anotordinarygoldfish ; @pumpkinbutt ; @browneyedmissy ; @soo-empty ; @anonymous2094 ; @lumpyspaceprincessismybitch ; @lady-stirling ; @papinaveensbitch ; @writinghereandthere ; @unusualvisionsblog ; @beccadavenport ; @messofakind ; @violinet ; @serafinedupont ; @raleiighcarrera ; @pixeljazzy ; @pixelsandkink ; @altairadtaz
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hi there! [feel free 2 tag this post as romeo]
tw for toxic relationship, mental abuse(?), and stalking
hi! i got help one time on this blog before and it helped me so much so i decided to ask for help again. i have an ex named K. Me and k broke up 7+ months ago. im okay with that, i still need to heal a lot from the traumas of that relationship, but im getting better. K stalks me, though, and my best friend. He stalks through our accounts and tries to spite us and make sure we feel uncomfortable and as if we arent safe. this is taking a toll on both me and my best friend, and im not sure exactly what to do, as we both have him blocked but he circumvents our blocks to stalk us. thank you! <3
RAINN has some basic information for victims of stalking:
https://www.rainn.org/articles/stalking
But if he's circumventing your blocks, it sounds like you're already doing everything you can and it hasn't been effective. Sometimes it can be very hard to get stalkers to stop. Is going to the police something that you feel would be accessible to you and helpful in your situation? Police can sometimes access more resources (like helping you get a restraining order through the court system) than you would individually have.
I found a TED talk that might help you feel less alone and provide some useful advice:
https://www.ted.com/talks/robin_brockelsby_overcoming_fear_after_being_stalked/transcript?language=en
Hopefully some of our followers will have additional resources.
- Mod Allison
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bxthharmon · 4 years
Text
Never Go Home Again, Pt. VIII || JJ Maybank x Reader
Words: 4102 (jeez, making up for a short last episode??)
Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex tapes and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking
Pt. Warnings: Breaking and entering? / underage drinking
Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy.  teenagers getting in way over their heads
Pt. Summary: Midsummers takes place as the pogues make headway in the hunt, Y/N struggles with her two friends’ enmity.
A/N: okay so longgg chapter. hope it’s not too bad, and i only hv one chapter left in my drafts so im gonna have to start writing instead of just editing... hopefully updates will stay just as frequent tho. lemme know abt tags and feedback, and pleaseeeeeee send requests!!! lockdowns giving way too much time.
Chapters linked in my masterlist.
“masterlist”
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You borrowed your dad’s car, and dressed in the simplistic, elegant dress intended for your prom back in LA, you arrived at the party. 
You found yourself surrounded in summery cocktail dresses and flower crowns, tuxedos that ranged from elegant dark blue to pastel pinks, a couple of floral patterns spicing up the mix. Soft lights hung loosely over the patio, lights hardly noticeable in the soft, bright hue of the evening, the sun yet to fall into the glittering sea stretched out from the view in the hotel. You worked your way through the silks, chiffons and satins. Drinks were pushed into your hand, tapas offered and awkward smiles shared. By the time you found Kie, you were armed with a glass of champagne and the feeling of not belonging. She laughed at your already exhausted smile, and had dragged you to find Pope. Once you were with Kie, it took twice as long to get anywhere, because everyone seemed to stop her and ask about her parents, the restaurant, or to offer criticism on her choice of friends, giving you side-eye. You were the one who spotted Pope, pointing him out and letting her drag you over to him.
“Excuse me, sir,” Kie mocked a British accent, “do we have to shuck these ourselves? ‘Cause it might mess up my costume.” 
You all laughed, hugging him in greeting. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Pope returned the joke, doing your pogue handshake.
“That accent was bad.” You shook your head.
“Yeah, it was. I was gonna let it go.” She laughed, “Y/N’s is way better.”
“Oh stop it!” you joked, in your British accent, pretending to blush, “You’re making me blush.”
“You ever seen this many kooks in one place?” Kie asked.
“Yeah, last year.” Pope grinned.
“We’re in the lion’s den.” You sighed. “Hey, have either of you heard from JJ?”
They looked at you sympathetically, shaking their heads.
“He’ll be alright.” Kie soothed. “He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.” 
“In the month I’ve known him, this is the longest I’ve gone without hearing from him.” You sighed, and Pope looked down guiltily.
“This is my fault.” 
“You didn’t do this, Pope.” you assured him, “Topper almost killed you, remember? JJ chose to, you know him, always putting others first. You can’t carry the blame, that’s not fair on you.”
You turned to the noise of an applaud, seeing Sarah and her family entering. You held back a snigger at the sight of Rose’s crown, but smiled at Sarah, who smiled back.
“Here come Lord Capital and the exploiters.” Kie sighed.
“She’s definitely gonna poke someone’s eye out with that.” Pope commented, and you looked back at Rose’s headdress, this time unable to contain the giggle.
You chatted for a while longer, finishing the lavish champagne and wanting to have some fun. You had practically dragged Kie to the dance floor, making her dance with you as a steady flow of drinks passed both your systems. Eventually, she was summoned to talk with her parents, leaving you alone on the dance floor. Before long, you found yourself dancing with Sarah, spinning her round, and exaggerating the both of your moves, mocking the way the adults were dancing. You went to get a drink after a few songs, and walked straight into JJ.
He was just as surprised as you, but you reacted quickly, pulling him down into a soft kiss by his collar. You looked over your shoulder, blushing at the sight of Pope and Kie clapping and giving you thumbs up. You turned your attention to him, tracing your thumb over his split lip and the bruises on the left side of his face. The dark cut contrasted the pink of his lips, and the bruises looked a painful, mottled purple that spread over his jaw and up to his cheek bone.
“JJ,” you murmured, “Did your dad do this?” 
“My dad, got a nice right jab, ya know?” he tried to joke, seeing the worry in your eyes. The light he hoped would return to your eyes stayed gone, as anger took over your features.
“JJ, I’m gonna fucking kill him.” you seethed, “He had no fucking-”
“Y/N,” he said, cupping your face, “leave it, okay? It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.”
“JJ that’s not making me feel any bet-”
He kissed you again, taking you off guard, and you smiled softly when he pulled away. “I gotta go,” he mumbled, “I’ll see you in a bit, I promise, babygirl.”
You nodded dumbly as he walked away, turning back to Sarah, and seeing her wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you. You rolled your eyes at her, making an excuse to leave, and walked over to Kie, who started pestering you for details, which you supplied. Your discussion with Kie was cut short by the sight of JJ being hauled out of the house and into the garden.
“Hey, Mr Dunleavy, I see you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually gonna down that.” he took the drink, and, well, downed it. “It’s okay everybody!” he yelled, “Do not panic. Leave it to the men and women in uniform! Let’s hear it for them!” he shouted, making you and Kie smirk, trying to hide your giggles. “Rose! You look like lady liberty. Good to see you again. Hey, buddy, can I have one of those?”
“Let go of him!” You called, working your way towards him.
“You can’t just boot him!” Kie backed you, ignoring the warning looks you were both getting from her parents. He looked up at you, a tiny smile on his face. “I invited him here! I’m a member of this club.” she continued through her parent’s protests. JJ turned and pushed the guard into the crowd, stumbling in the opposite direction.
“Sorry about that! Hey,” he pointed at you and Kie, “mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie, Y/N. Pope, you as well, alright? Rixon’s cove, let’s roll! A’ight Y/N, come on!” You grinned, he turned to Kie, “Workers of the world unite, throw off your chains!”
Kie and Pope ran ahead, both hugging John B, and you ran straight into JJ’s arms, letting him swing you around and kiss you, for once, not caring that everyone was staring.
--
“Hey, guys, so like, my dad’s already gonna kill me.” Pope said as you all settled around the campfire. “So what’s this mandatory meeting about?”
John B shot finger guns to JJ, who looked up, “Might as well tell him, man, before we’re all gaffed.”
“You ready for this? John B replied.
You and Kie looked at each other, “Yeah.” you said, in unison.
“So, the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant.” John B started.
“Here we go again.” You muttered, settling into JJ’s side.
“No, alright? Wait. Hear him out, alright?” JJ backed John B, and you frowned, shrugging and gesturing for him to continue.
“It’s been here the whole time. It’s on the island.”
“Are you serious?” Kie asked. “Oh my God.”
“I’d like to voice my skepticism.” Pope spoke.
“I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you with my evidence, Sir?”
“Proceed.” Pope mocked.
“Alright, so, in my backpack, I have a letter from Denmark Tanny.” 
“Who the fuck’s that?” You questioned.
“Denmark Tanny was a slave who survived the Royal merchant wreck. Check this out.” he handed Kie some paper, “So slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but my dad, he found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery. So Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom.” Kie passed you the paper. “After that, he bought his farm. Drumroll please,” you drumrolled on your thighs, “because that farm is… Tannyhill Plantation.”
“Tannyhill?” Kie affirmed. You passed Pope the paper.
“Yeah.” John B continued, “so after that, he used his money to free even more slaves. And then he sold a shit ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and then they decide to lynch him. So on the day they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell, and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold.”
“Where?” You whisper excitedly.
“Harvest the wheat, in parcel nine, near the water. Except, there’s no wheat. You see, wheat is code for gold. Check this out.” he shows you another piece of paper, and a map. “The gold is in parcel nine, near the water.” you and Kie squeal, laughing excitedly, “All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we’ve found the gold!”
“Okay, so, this might have a small chance of actually being true.” Pope said, and JJ got up from beside you.
“Dude,” you laughed, “this is like, King Tut!” 
JJ pulled John B into a hug, lifting him up. “Hello, fire! You’re near the fire. You’re gonna burn.” John B warned, and JJ put him down. “I’m so proud of you right now.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s really sweet of you.” JJ looked at you, “And jeez, Y/N, what is it with you and Tutankhamun?”
“4th Grade history?” You guessed.
“Okay, so, guys,” Pope brought the attention back. “What’s the plan?”
“Good question.” John B agreed.
“How long does this go on for?” you moaned, “Wrap it up, JB.”
“Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight.” he simplified. “And she’ll bring the original survey.”
“Hold on.” Kie stopped him, “Sarah? Wh-why Sarah?”
“This is gonna be good.” JJ muttered, and you raised your eyebrows at him.
“Sarah, um, she - she helped me into the archives at Chapel Hill yesterday, and that’s where I got the letter.”
“You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?” Kie frowned, anger contorting her features.
“Are you guys macking?” you asked, a disbelieving smirk on your lips.
“He was mackin’ on her.” JJ confirmed, interrupting John B’s pitiful attempts at an explanation, and earning him a giggle from you.
“For real?” you asked John B.
“I wasn’t macking.” John B defended.
“You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.” JJ repeated.
“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was using her for access.”
“There was access, alright.” JJ mumbled, earning another giggle.
“Okay,” you piped up, “JB you should have consulted first, Kie, she obviously did something shitty, but JB, using her is pure shitty, so you better just be covering for yourself right now.”
He looked at you defeated, and you groaned. “Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie asked.
“I was just trying to get into the archives!”
“Is that a yes?”
“I left out key details!”
“Yo, what? You let a kook in on our secret? What about Pogue Lyfe? What about the t-shirt company, bro?”
“I was just using her for information.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I’m tryna make us filthy rich here! Okay, so that we can pay off a boat, or - or, uh, send you to autopsy school to study dead bodies! Look, you guys know me! Do I look like the kind of person who would fall for Sarah Cameron?”
You and JJ made eye contact, “well..” you started.
“Um.” he chuckled.
“Do you want us to answer that, or-”
“Just - just stop.” John B looked at the pair of you, defeated.
“Look, you don’t know her yet, I do! You can’t trust her!”
“Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club.” Pope pointed out.
“Rafe and Sarah are different human beings.” John B countered.
“What did she do to you, exactly?” you asked Kie, wandering how she could hate your friend so much.
“She’s like a - a spitting cobra. First she - first she blinds you and then she-”
“This is a bad analogy.” you mumbled.
“Listen to me!” Kie demanded, “Whatever we get, she’s gonna try to take.”
--
You and JJ were lying on your bed, not having bothered to get changed before getting under the covers. You interlocked your fingers with his, snuggling closer, your eyes barely open. “What do you think Sarah did?”
JJ turned his head to look at you, he could tell it was tearing you up. “I… don’t know.” JJ sighed, defeated. “I’ve known Kie for years, and she’s never talked about it.”
“Sarah was super kind to me, I don’t understand why Kie is so against her. It’s so shitty, ‘cause they’re both my friends, and I want them to get on, but they obviously won’t.”
“They might?” JJ muttered, thinking.
“C’mon, Jay, you know it’s impossible. And I don’t even know what happened between them, so I can’t fix it.” 
“You know it’s not up to you to fix it, right?”
“So why do I feel like I have to?”
“Because you’re an empathetic, kind, brilliant person?”
“Jay,” you groaned, as he kissed you, “Be serious!”
“I am.” he mumbled, kissing you again.
“You’re infuriating,” you giggled, “you know that?”
“It’s all part of my brand.”
“Your brand?”
“Oh yeah, super-hot surfer pogue, insanely funny, get’s the best weed on the island, you know, the usual.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Hey! At least I have a brand!”
“Is that a comment aimed at me?” you mocked offence.
“I mean, your brand is ‘mysterious new girl’.”
“You think I’m mysterious?”
“I mean, yeah, none of us know, like, why you moved or anything about you.”
Your heart twinged, but you covered for yourself, mocking him, “It’s all part of my brand.”
--
“I’m sorry, you’re staying where?” Kie passed John B to get to the bar, the group having gathered in the Wreck.
“Tannyhill.” John B repeated, and you shook your head, disbelieving.
“So you’re living with Sarah Cameron?”
“Okay, look, the only reason I’m living there is because her dad bailed me out, right?”
“I still can’t believe you got pushed off that wooden frame thing.” You muttered, and he smirked, fighting down a laugh as you and Kie went to the group’s table.
“And it’s way better than foster care,” he continued, “which, by the way, where I was about to go if Ward didn’t-”
“Hey, so do you have membership to the clubs now?” Pope asked.
“I don’t know, Pope.”
“What about those little golf carts that they drive around?” JJ added, “You get one of them?”
“Does it come with a sweater-vest, or do you have to buy one of those on your own?” You add.
“Look, you promised.” Kie brought the focus back, like always. “You said you weren’t with her.”
“Bro, just own it.” JJ backed, “She got you.”
“Look if you wanna hang out with her, that’s fine.” Kie sighed, “I mean, Y/N sometimes hangs out with her. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m not doing anything with Sarah.”
“Do you guys see her here?” John B pointed out, “No, right. Okay. A little focus would be fantastic. We’ve got the map, right?”
“It’s all out of whack ‘cause the guy was ganja’d when he drew it.” JJ commented.
“No,” you corrected, “the coastline changed, dummy.”
“So we just have to look for landmarks that haven’t changed.” Pope clarified.
“What about the old forts?” John B suggested.
“You know, the more you guys talk, the more I realise that I know nothing about this island.” You observed, treasuring the feeling of JJ running a hand through your hair.
“Battery Jasper.” Kie pointed.
“Let’s go.” you  stood up, leading the group out to the VW.
John B drove, none of you really paying attention until you reached the landmark.
The five of you looked out over the island, expansive green leading to expansive blue, you were at a high point. “We’re in battery, right here.” Pope points on the map. “So if this is parcel nine, then it’s somewhere northeast of here.”
“Somewhere over there.” Kie points, and you take JJ’s juul off him, taking a puff, then handing it back.
“Over there?” JJ followed the point. “Guys, that’s not Tannyhill, that’s a subdivision.”
“Tannyhill Plantation used to be the entire island.” reminded John B. “It got sold into smaller pieces over time.”
Pope inspected the map again, “So we’re just looking for an old stone wall.”
You ventured back to the Twinkie, following Pope’d instructions, again. John B took a sharp left, pulling up next to an overgrown stone wall.
“That looks like a stone wall to me.” JJ said, almost proud.
“This is it.” Pope confirmed. Your car doors clattered open as you hopped out of the car.
“Not the Crain House.” John B sighed.
“Are you kidding me?” Kie repeated the sentiment.
“Worst case scenario.” JJ confirmed.
“Why’d it have to be here of all places?” Pope asked.
“Hang on a second.” You turned to your friends, your lack of apprehension standing out in the group. “It’s just a house. What’s the big deal?”
“I heard Mrs Crain buried her husband’s head on the property.” JJ told you. You all looked at him, the other’s in fear, you in skepticism.
“Well that’s bullshit.” you shrugged, taking a hold of the top of the wall and pulling yourself up, throwing your legs over and landing in the overgrown thicket. You pricked yourself in the brambles, and swore. The pogues on the other side of the wall immediately started asking if you were okay, making you giggle. “Just be careful of the brambles.”
Once they were all on the inside, you began to venture inwards. “Look, Y/N, you know whose house this is, right?”
“Some old lady’s?” you guessed, and were greeted with four unimpressed stares.
“Honestly, I don’t really believe the stories of this place.” John B joined your skepticism, but was shushed by Pope.
“Which stories did you hear?” JJ asked Kie.
“The one where she killed her husband with an axe and that she’s been holed up ever since.” said Kie, making you snort. “On certain nights, when the moon is full…”
You saw where it was going, and joined in with Kie’s mockingly spooky hand movements as she finished, “... you can see her in the window!” the pair of you giggled.
“No, girls, it’s not funny, ‘cause it’s all true.” JJ shook his head, as you and Kie made ‘Waah’ noises. “I swear to God guys, this is all real. I knew Hollis. Jeez!”
You smirked, “Yeah, jeez. Who knew you were superstitious? And who’s Hollis?”
“Wait, you knew Hollis Crain?” asked Pope.
“Who’s Hollis?” you repeated, ignored again.
“Yeah, dude.” JJ confirmed.
“Dude, how do you know Hollis Crain?”
“Dude, who is Hollis Crain?” you mocked Pope’s anxious movements.
“She was my babysitter, man. She told me all about it.” He looked around the group, “She told me the truth… about her mother and what happened in this house.”
“And what would that be?” You asked, still skeptical as you looked up to the unkempt house.
“So as a kid, she heard all the stories that her mother killed her father, and she was a murderer and all. Hollis didn’t believe it. Until that night.”
“What night?”
“It all came back to her.” JJ turned to look at the house, “When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So she goes downstairs to see her mom washing her hands in the sink full of blood. Her mother just says that she cut her finger. The next morning, she says her father and her split up. But then, Hollis noticed something. Her mother going into the parlour constantly, in and out and in and out with plastic bags. Weeks pass, and Hollis decides to use the outhouse. And as she’s using it, she looks down, and there, in the outhouse, is her father’s head, looking straight back at her.”
“God, you are so full of shit.” you and John B outburst in unison.
“Dude, I swear to God, man.” JJ shook his head.
“Did she call the police?” Pope asked.
“She didn’t have time.” you and John B started to walk on, only to be grabbed and pulled back by JJ.
“What?” you asked, confused. He turned to John B.
“You sure you wanna do this? She’s an axe murderer. You got a cast on.”
“I don’t give a shit if she’s an axe murderer, okay? I got nothing to lose, right? You comin’, or what?”
You follow John B through the garden, and he gathers you in a semicircle. “So here’s the plan. We need to look for the wheat near the water like it said in Denmark’s letter.”
“Okay, like, what kind of water?” asked Pope, “Like, pond water?”
JJ chuckled, “Bong water?” you slapped his arm lightly.
“It just said look for water, okay?”
“That’s the shittiest secret message ever.” Kie moved past John B.
“You wanna complain a little more, Kie? Nobody said it was gonna be easy.”
“I’ll search the northeast quadrant,” Pope started, addressing you and JJ, “you two search the northwest.”
“The decapitation quadrant?” JJ objected, and you took his arm, pulling him with you.
You scanned your area, coming up empty, then followed John B into the basement. You went in before JJ, who started singing a song about how Mrs Crain was going to kill you all.
You and Pope turned, shining your torches in his face.
“Can you stop?” You hissed, and he shut up.
You swung the torch light over the room, the broken and discarded furniture giving the room a horror-movie vibe. You’d never admit it, but you were beginning to feel creeped.
“This is the part of the movie where we get attacked by the old, half-dead blind lady.” You muttered, and JJ nodded, gesturing to you as if you had predicted the future, the others rolling their eyes.
“See any water?” Kie asked, five torches sweeping around the place. You felt a tickle on your arm and slapped, your palm coming away with the brown stain of squished insect. “Another dead end?”
JJ ran his hand on the pipes, “There’s not even water on the pipes.”
“There’s no water here.” Pope confirmed as you slapped another bug, noticing that it was a mosquito.
“Not a dropamino.” JJ continued.
“Know why we didn’t find it?” Kie piped up, “Bad karma.”
“Oh, God, here we go.” John B muttered.
“You know, we had a good thing going. And then you decide to rope in Barbie, and now the trail’s gone dry.”
“Literally,” smirked, “there’s no water.”
“Coincidence?” Kie continued as Pope and JJ sniggered, “Probably not.”
“This is exactly why I didn’t wanna tell you about Sarah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell’s the deal? What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Is it because I kissed you? Is that the problem?”
Your eyes widened, your mouth forming a little ‘o’ as Kiara slapped him, JJ and Pope both calling out in surprise.
“Stop treating me like I’m some girl that’s obsessed with you instead of your best friend who’s actually trying to look out for you.”
The pair of them started bickering, slapping each other, using skeeters as excuses. You slapped your leg, seeing the brown stain of a mosquito, again.
“Why the fuck are there so many mosquitoes?” you fumed, slapping yourself again.
“Dude, I know, seriously. Tiny little vampire bats, just leave me alone.” JJ added, the pair of you slapping again, and again, and again. “Oh my gosh, can we leave? ‘Cause I’m already itchin’ to leave. Haha, punny.”
You looked at Pope, who was staring at the floor, his torch shining over it. You both stomped on the ground hearing the hollow sound as JJ tried to show you ‘Mrs Crain’s voodoo doll’. You picked up a stone, dropping it through the crack in the floorboards, and hearing the ‘plop’ as it landed in water. You and Pope scrambled, pushing the loose bits of wood out of the way to lift the board, opening up the well. Pope shone his torch down.
“Well, well, well.” he joked.
“Water great discovery.” You added.
“Great dad jokes, guys.” John B sighed.
“They built this part of the house right over it.”said Kie.
“This is where she hid the bodies.” JJ nodded.
“JJ, just stop.” You shook your head.
“No, I’m dead serious.”
“Yeah, you will be, because I’m seriously considering pushing you down that well.”
“It was never an outhouse.” JJ continued.
“She probably doesn’t even know it’s here.” Kie shrugged.
“So, we found water.” Pope looked to John B.
“We’re gonna need a really big rope.”
Tags: @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @lolitstiana @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @teamnick @thoughtsofthestars @obxmxybxnk @jjmaybankswife @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @sxcretinhuman @alexa-playafricabytoto @angvelics @badwolf00593 @coloradogirl07 @mendesmaybank​ @jiaraendgame
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liongoatsnake · 4 years
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Hi, I hoped I could ask for a piece of advice if that is alright. I am a singlet, and I've been reading about systems and discourse and in general I find myself fairly pro endogenic systems. I don't want to get involved in discourse because it's not really my place to argue, but I have seens some people in my circles who are anti endo, and I was wondering if there is a way for singlets to argue for endo systems in case an argument starts with someone
Apologies in advance, asker. What started out as personal response turned into a plead into the void. However, hopefully the few nuggets of thought we have would still be useful to you. Apologies. Also, we aren't one's to take part in syscourse if we can avoid it so our advise is pretty bare bones. So apologies there as well. If you were wanting arguments to use, we’re not the best plural system to ask.
 Syscourse overall is a nasty discourse that has cropped up within the past few years. Our advise for anyone that falls into it, regardless of their viewpoint on the matter and regardless of if they are plural or singlet, is:
 First, please for the love of whatever is sane in the universe - discuss the topic, don't attack the people with the viewpoint. This isn't directed at you directly, anon. Just more a pleading into the void of the internet. We are not even endogenic and we have had some seriously messed up DMs sent to us. Most of which are meant to trigger trauma survivors or poison any trust a person has toward any mental health professional they see or might see. We don't care what "side" someone is on in this syscoure, that is wrong. Don't hurl personal attacks against people no matter how heated a discussion might get. Syscourse has been toxic enough. People have been hurt enough.
 As to the discourse itself, state facts. And CITE THINGS. Archived websites for community history, articles and books for professional perspectives. Far, far too much of this syscourse is based around bad information heard from someone else who heard it from someone else. Again, don't care what side of syscourse anyone as on. Making claims without anything to back it up is bad argument making. Also, don't just take other people's word that this book on that page says something or whatever. Especially if you're really invested in this syscourse. When possible, fact check people. Even people on the same "side" as you. Also take note of dates when using academic material due to the changes psychological theories and frameworks over time if you are arguing based on frameworks.
 Finally, don't destroy your own mental health just to "win" some internet debate. Please don't run yourself into the ground emotionally just to feel like you have "won." Block people, block tags, block words, ignore people - whatever necessary (within reason) to not let internet drama drag you down. No one is selfish for saying that they want no part in syscourse. Again, it doesn't matter what "side" someone is on. Misinformation hurts people but you can’t help others if you won’t help yourself. You matter. That means your mental health matters too.
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Hi. This could be a long shot but I used to rp on jcink and I left it almost a year ago to take a break as I found the communities very toxic. I miss my characters and I forgot you there were rp communities on tumblr! I have never rp'd on tumblr before and I'm not sure how it works, as in where is the actual place where written character posts are or where members chat? I'm a newbie to tumblr rp and would love to join. I would appreciate some advice on how to start! xx
Hey there! Thank for for taking the time to reach out to us, we’re more than happy to try our best and give you to tumblr RP rundown! Sorry to hear you had a poor experience elsewhere - rest assured, if you want to be part of Crooked, we don’t bite! (We even have Game Nights !)
A summary of what I’ll try cover: 
Your blog is where you post as your muse/character per se, you can reblog musings and anything you like about your character(s) on here for the group to see. 
Your replies/roleplay interactions are also on here where you can post responses to open starters and engage in all that’s happening! (If you don’t use discord - we use it as our OOC platform, your OOC communications will go on your blog(s) too!)
So, to begin, the way the process of on the dash RP-ing works is generally: You create a tumblr account separate to your personal/main. You can use a little trick in the sign-up process to avoid creating new emails and losing track. For example: 
[email protected] can be used for your personal tumblr escapades! And then, for an RP one, you can use the same email, but format it like this: [email protected]. (It still goes to your same inbox, but it allows you to have multiple accounts - if you’re using them for different groups.)
I already feel like I might have lost you a little here - so, let me continue off this topic... we can always help you set-up later! 
Once you have a tumblr account, you can then decide if you want to keep it organised in the sense of individual character blogs or if you want to compile multiple characters onto one blog; then use the tumblr tagging system to make it clear which you’re using if you have gathered a few muses! We have a mixture in the group who use Mumu blogs (multi-muse) and those who use individuals - it’s purely personal preference! Despite using a Mumu myself here in Crooked, I generally prefer individuals because it makes it a little easier to keep up with the replies I may owe! 
Alrighty, so there’s that ramble added... It’s honestly much simpler to navigate than I may be making it out to be - my apologies! Essentially, you reblog interactions at your pace and create new ones for those to engage in and your threads are you ongoing interactions. If you would like some examples, I’ll list the admin blogs below so if you wanted to have a quick scroll for examples of how we kind of interact - there’s not really a right or wrong way! 
@crxxkedevil , @twistedxpromises & @eternallyxcrooked 
These listed above are all mumu blogs - so we have multiple characters we have compiled into a single blog, whereas we have members that have a main blog and then add side blogs for each picked up OC character. But you should be able to see the method of roleplay in each of these. There is also no rule on length or tense you write in ... you’ll see some variation, I’m sure. As long as it’s understandable and we can gauge interactions, you’re on for a win! Hurrah! 
I feel like that’s the getting started basics kind of covered? Everyone has their own tumblr tagging system on their posts to be able to retrieve former interactions and such. 
A beneficial program (I’d recommended getting.) is a free add-on for google chrome browsers called XKit as it offers the ability to edit posts once they’ve been posted and you can reblog just the newest interaction instead of swarming the dash with previous/repeat engagements. Honestly, if you haven’t realised I’m Queen of the Rambles - you... do now... but truly, we’re all friendly and willing to help you every step of the way! You’ll pick it up in no time, I’m sure! A lot of information and step-by-steps are covered in sections of the Main blog that might give you some insights beyond my explanations! 
As for discord, this is the OOC platform we use for out of character interactions and general day-to-day conversations. (Also, game nights... and lots of other chaos.) It’s also free and is available on both mobile & desktop. There’s no obligation to be part of the server there - but you’re more than welcome to get to know your fellow members and RP-ers! Helps with plotting threads and interactions too.
As a last addition: we’ve broken down the process a little on the Navigation page (Mobile Navigation, here.) so you’re able to look at things pre-application and then post-application to try encourage an ease of access for all. Hopefully by looking at some blog examples of ours and having a meander through the CrookedSoulsRPG main blog that you should find some helpful resources. We also have a resources blog, here if you want to look at gifs and icons... especially if you’re potentially not used to using gifs/icons/gif icons in your interactions, we try to where we can and there’s many faces for inspiration if you haven’t acquired an arsenal of faces yet! 
Thank you again for sending this in! I hope that this somewhat helped you in your starting up process? If you need clarification on more, you’re more than welcome to hit us with all the messages you like, or if you want to pop in an application if you think you’e got the ropes and an idea of what muses/characters you wanna throw into the Crooked world. A quick read down our guidelines to check they’re all good for you and you’re away! 
We’re more than happy to continue helping you through the process in any way we can - we’re all very welcoming! Please, don’t be shy! Believe me, we’re all been there before, we all start somewhere! 
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yesloverboy · 5 years
Text
Never Let You Go (mgk! Tommy Lee x Reader)
Requested: Anon
“I have 2 requests but they are completely up to your interpretation anyways, so for one like tommy taking care of his drunk girlfriend or friend or whatever you want and then another request would be tommy (lol love my tommy) where like the reader and tommy are friends and they’re at a bar and readers ex is there and shit goes down. Hopefully those make sense, do what you want!”
Note: Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute but my love for Tommy and Crüe will never die so thanks for being patient! Love y’all bunches and I will be posting about my updated writing schedule shortly. 
word count: 2,712
[Warnings: blood, violence, cheating, toxic relationships, swearing, and alcohol mention.]
permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3
mötley tags: @lauravic 
tommy tags: @chlobo6
 After your breakup, you were almost certain that not even all the alcohol in the world could drown your problems. Heartache left an unfillable void in your chest that wanted to suck every last bit of your happiness deep down inside, never to be seen again. Luckily, your best friend, Tommy, was determined to spend the entire weekend proving you wrong. According to Tommy, alcohol can drown any problem if you’re with the right people– and he just so happens to be your favorite person in the entire world.
 If someone were to ask you weeks– maybe even days –ago, you would’ve claimed that your boyfriend Kyle, of three and a half years, held the position of favorite in your heart. That is, until you found him grunting and thrusting into a woman that most definitely wasn’t you. Hell, she wasn’t even a woman you knew. As it turned out, your beloved boyfriend had been fucking other women on and off since they day you’d met.
 Teary-eyed and utterly brokenhearted, you went to the only person you knew who could hold you together at a time like this– Tommy. In his usual fashion, Tommy had greeted your desperate raps on his door with a goofy grin and open arms. However, once his blue eyes met your red-rimmed ones, his chipper mood quickly dissolved into concern.
 “Hey button, what’s the matter?” Tommy asked, using his long arms to envelop you in a tight bear hug. Button had been his nickname for you ever since grade school. Tommy had always been bad with names, and the rainbow buttons of your first-day-of-school overalls sealed your place in Tommy’s memory from that day forward.
 You had prepared what you were going to tell Tommy on the cab ride over but, the moment he uttered your nickname, everything fell to pieces. Big, fat tears welled up in your eyes, dripping onto Tommy’s shirt like heavy rain. To your relief, he didn’t press any more questions your way. Instead, he shushed you softly and tucked you through the doorway with a protective arm.
 It wasn’t long before Tommy had you curled on the couch, wrapped tightly in a quilted blanket with your head resting comfortably in his lap. He gave you time to cry out the rest of your frustration as he ran his long fingers through the snags in your hair. Tommy didn’t say much, even if seeing you in crisis mode devastated him to the core. You were always the strong one of the two of you, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to keep it together while you crumbled at his feet.
 After a while, your sobs eventually devolved into pitiful sniffles, allowing you to catch your breath enough to finally speak. When you finally mustered up the courage to tell Tommy what your boyfriend– well, ex-boyfriend – had done to you, his blood began to boil incessantly beneath his skin. Tommy wanted Kyle dead. Hell, deader than dead. If you hadn’t just been sobbing in his arms for the past hour, he’d already be on the phone with Nikki to plot your ex’s demise.
 Tommy physically couldn’t comprehend how a slimeball like Kyle could possibly have it in him to cheat on a girl like you for so long. You were patient, kind, and positively beautiful in Tommy’s eyes. For most people, a guy like Tommy is a lot to handle, but you never asked him to shrink himself in the presence of other people. You loved Tommy’s ‘too-much-ness’, as you affectionately called it, and wanted nothing more than to bottle it up and save some for the rainy days. Unfortunately, this day had been the rainiest of them all.
 Although he would never admit it, you were Tommy’s dream girl, and he would do whatever it took to make you feel like your old self again. Even if it were only for a few, fleeting moments in between bloodshot eyes and broken cries.
...
 It’s that same desire to make you happy that has Tommy dragging you to some sleazy new wave club halfway across town. You and Tommy are renowned metalheads in the L.A. music scene, but you can’t deny the way that the heavy synth and pounding bass lifts your spirits from the inside. As much as you despise its trendy nature, the appeal of cheap pop music isn’t entirely lost on you, and going to the last place anyone would expect to see you is exactly what you need right now.
 The club is packed full of patrons, each demonstrating new and interesting ways to incorporate nylon and neoprene into their glowing ensembles. You and Tommy undoubtedly stick out like sore thumbs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as he takes your hands and swings you across the dancefloor. You Spin Me Round blares through the sound system, causing the light-up floor to vibrate obnoxiously beneath your feet.
 Tommy picks you up and begins spinning you around in his arms at a dizzying pace, causing you to erupt into a fit of cringes and laughter. The two of you haven’t even made it to the bar yet and you’re already giggling and shoving each other like a pair of carefree idiots. Tommy’s childlike sense of fun and comforting grasp bandaids the gaping hole in your chest for a moment, but the fear of your all-encompassing sadness leaking out again makes you shiver beneath the strobing lights.
 As if he can read your mind, Tommy’s roughhousing ceases so he can stop and look at you. His dark blue eyes scan yours for any sign of an imminent breakdown on the horizon, but you quickly plaster on a brave face. You have no reason to hide the wave of sadness passing through you, but figure there’s no time like the present to practice looking fine in front of those you love.
 Before Tommy can ask if you’re okay, you bounce on your tiptoes and grasp at his shoulder for leverage. “I’m going to get us some drinks, okay?” you project your weak voice into Tommy’s ear, practically yelling over the pulsating music.
 Tommy seems to get the idea and offers you a weak smile as you turn towards the bar. Stay here, you mouth and Tommy shoots a reassuring thumbs up in your direction. With a shaky breath, you maneuver your way through the energetic crowd, doing your best to scout out the farthest available bartender. Initially, the crowd and the noise did a great job of clouding your memory, but now you needed a little extra help from some good, old fashioned hard liquor.
 You belly up to the bar, relieved that the music is just quiet enough in this corner of the club that you don’t have to strain your voice as much. Giving the bartender your best fake smile, you order yourself a double vodka soda and a Jack and Coke for Tommy. It feels like it’s going to be a long night, and you could use all the help you can get to even dream of keeping up with Tommy’s excessive drinking.
 Just as you’re about to grab the glasses and search for your lanky companion, you sense an all too familiar presence at your side.
“Y/N? Baby, is that you?”
 You suck in a breath, the sickly sweet tone of Kyle’s voice driving an icy stake into your palpitating heart. No, no, no, no, you flounder, this can’t be happening. You turn around, mouth running dry as soon as your eyes meet the confident gaze of your ex-lover. It was a look you had seen a hundred times before, and yet the familiarity of it all is exactly what’s bringing you to your knees.
 Kyle takes a step forward and you immediately find yourself taking an instinctive step back, the base of your spin quickly bumping harshly into the bar’s edge. Kyle rests a casual hand on the bar next to your hip, not exactly pinning you to the spot, but making it more than apparent that he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.
 “Thought that was you, sweetheart, I’d recognize that tight ass anywhere,” Kyle purs, looking down on you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “Miss me yet?”
 The ice in yours and Tommy’s drinks rattles in its glasses, giving away the tremor in your nervous hands. You want to yell, scream, cry– anything, but you find yourself frozen to the spot. The memory of Kyle on top of that mystery woman in your shared bed replays in your head like a threat, reminding you that he never really loved you at all. Feeling small and pathetic in front of the man that abused your trust for so long, you silently pray that the floor might swallow you up.
 You grit your teeth as hot tears blur your vision, but do not speak. A sob starts to build in your throat and, before you’re able to release it, a flash of movement catches your eye. Looking past Kyle, you’re relieved to find Tommy storming over to the scene with bared teeth and clenched fists.
 “Hey asshole!” Tommy growls, jerking Kyle’s shoulder back in an effort to yank him away from your trembling form. The look of overwhelming fear and anxiety in your eyes fans the fire in Tommy’s chest, and it takes all of his strength not to drag your ex to the floor right then and there. In all your years of knowing Tommy, you never imagined he could ever look this furious and you find yourself getting scared.
 You aren’t scared of Tommy, no, you could never be– you were scared for Kyle.  
 Kyle just laughs and brushes at his lapels for show, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Easy there, man. I was just about to ask my girl if she wanted a ride home, is all. Isn’t that right, hon?”
 The cockiness in Kyle’s voice turns your stomach as he looks back at you expectantly, silently willing you to comply. Your eyes dart between him and Tommy, and you can already picture how the next couple of minutes are going to unfold.
 Tommy steps directly into your ex’s personal space, the visible height difference making Kyle shift his jaw nervously. To anyone passing by, Kyle probably appeared to be in total control, but you knew him well enough to recognize the look on his face. He’s in deep shit, and he knows it.
 “Funny you call her that, Kyle,” Tommy spits, his voice dripping with venom as he presses an accusatory finger into Kyle’s chest. “Make no mistake, I heard you had a girl– actually, a long list of girls. But Y/N? Yeah, she ain’t one of them. Never was.”
 Kyle laughs nervously, puffing out his chest in a weak attempt to seem taller. “Is that right? Then what is she, then? Your girl?”
 “And what if she is? What the fuck are you going to do about it?”
 Tommy’s face is only a few inches away from Kyle’s, the tension in the air so palpable that even the bartender across the way seems to be frozen it. The bass from the dancefloor thumps ominously in the distance, its hollow thud matching the heaviness of your heartbeat.
 To your surprise, Kyle is the first to relent. Casting you a bitter glance, he shoves Tommy’s chest away from his and begins backing slowing out of the room. His eyes never leave Tommy’s, watching him with the same caution as a zookeeper getting ready to feed a hungry lion. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it comes far too soon.
 “Fine, have her,” Kyle hisses, “she’s a lousy lay, anyways.”
 The moment the insult left your ex’s lips, his fate was sealed. Tommy’s restraint melts away as he lunges forward, his fist swiftly connecting against Kyle’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurts out from Kyle’s face and onto the glowing floor like a broken spigot, instantly causing your stomach to flip queasily. Even in the low lighting you can see splotches of ruby red seeping into the fabric of his stark white shirt.  
 Kyle stumbles backward, falling disoriented to the floor. He cries out in agony but Tommy continues to stalk forward, relentlessly hunting him into a corner like some kind of feral animal. You know it can only get uglier from here and, as much as you’ve enjoyed seeing Kyle eat his words, you really don’t want to add bailing Tommy out of jail to your to-do list.
 Before Tommy can cock back his fist for another hit, you catch his arm. The glasses you were previously grasping in your hands clatter noisily to the floor, the watered down alcohol and soda pooling lazily at your feet.
 “Tommy, that’s enough,” you warn, but the words are cushioned by tenderness you feel for him. All ever Tommy wanted to do was shelter you from all the bad things in the world, and you’d be lying if you couldn’t admit that he did it well.
 With an angry sigh, Tommy begrudgingly allows you to pull him to your side. Snaking his arm protectively around your shoulders, he frowns slightly as you shiver beneath his touch. It pains him to see you this way, shaking with anxiousness in the presence of a man you used to give all your love to– a love that he didn’t even deserve. Without thinking Tommy presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the touch so faint you almost miss it.
 “I’ve got you, button,” Tommy whispers, his voice barely audible over the music. Your heart somersaults in your chest as you gaze up at Tommy, your watery eyes connecting with his soft blues. Even panting and red-faced from his encounter with your ex, he still has the same happy face that drew you to him all those years ago.
 Without a second thought, you lace your fingers with Tommy’s, holding his arm in place as it rests on your frame. “Let’s go home,” you sniffle, nuzzling his bruised knuckles with the side of your tear-stained cheek.
 You lead Tommy out of the club, leaving Kyle moaning pathetically in a pool of his own blood. Not even a bartender or a bouncer cared to bat an eye at his pitiful display, and you can’t help but wonder if he would look the same after suffering a broken nose. Kyle may have left a permanent stain on your heart, but Tommy made sure he wouldn’t be able to so much as look in the mirror without remembering what he had done to you.
 The summer air is balmy outside the club as you and Tommy await the next available cab. You stand in comfortable silence, your form still pressed firmly against his side as he puffs on a cigarette absentmindedly. Tommy’s free hand curls around the ends of your hair, the small, intimate gesture causing you to blush.
 “So,” you say finally, breaking the silence, “your girl, huh?”
 Tommy’s eyes widen, his blue irises swimming in orbs of white. “Oh, uh, that? That was nothing– just, uh, don’t worry about it–” he stammers, his face flushing pink with embarrassment.
 With a grin, you rise to your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on Tommy’s cheek, stunning him into silence. “Someday,” you whisper, “Maybe not today, but someday soon.”
 Your words tumble through the night air like a promise, intertwining with Tommy’s ever visible heartstrings and grasping tightly. Tommy always fell for girls hard and fast, but with you it was different. His love for you only grew with each passing moment, embedding itself in every look and every action until it all culminated into a single punch. You were what he had always been looking for, and he was exactly what you had been missing all along.
 Tommy holds you tight for the rest of the evening, playing with your fingers on the cab ride home to eventually tangling his legs with yours as the two of you collapse in a heap on his couch. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes– Tommy would be yours forever, and forever isn’t nearly long enough.
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