#i was trapped in a bus and had bad connection

[hillian-sketch]

H-hilian....why do you wanna spank @chain-draws-stuff ass? You gar or smth?

Idk just want to mean I do it to my brother so why not him anyway

*start fucking around with the lock to try and open it*

This cage won't keep your ass safe forever @chain-draws-stuff

[itsmealaiah]

Leave me alone

2023 Bill Kaulitz x 13-year-old fem reader.

Tags: bullying, bruises, bloody nose

Thank you to @ilovehueningbahiyyih for this request!!

The sun shone brightly on the tiled floor of the schoolyard, reflecting off the tops of students' heads as they hurried along, chatting and laughing. It was a typical day at St. Mark's Academy, except for one thing: a new girl had just arrived. Her name was y/n, and she was half South African, half Lebanese, and half German. Her tan skin glistened in the sunlight, and her long, dark brown straight-wavy hair flowed down her back like a waterfall. She had a slim hourglass figure and stood out among the other students, who were mostly pale-skinned and blond-haired.

Y/n had been warned about the bullies at St. Mark's, but she never expected to be targeted so soon. As she walked down the hall to her first class, a group of girls surrounded her, teasing her about her skin tone and making fun of her foreign heritage. They blocked her path, trapping her against the lockers, and one of them even poked her in the arm, hard enough to leave a bruise. y/n winced in pain but remained silent, refusing to let them see the hurt they were causing.

But the bully wasn't satisfied with just a bruise. She aimed another punch at y/n, this time connecting with her nose. Pain shot through her entire body as she felt warm blood trickle down her face, staining her pale pink shirt. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but the pain was too much. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back, determined not to show weakness. The bullies laughed and walked away, leaving y/n alone in the hallway, clutching a handful of tissues to staunch the flow of blood.

She didn't tell anyone what had happened. The bully had threatened to ruin her life if she said anything, and y/n was too scared to defy her. Instead, she walked to the bus, tears streaming down her face, and rode home in silence. When she finally arrived at her stop, she gathered her things and made her way up the steps to the front door. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fumbled with her keys, anxious to get inside and tend to her wounds.

As she opened the door, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. It was her father, Bill. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and as soon as he saw her, he leapt to his feet, concern etched on his face y/n tried to hurry past him, but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. "y/n, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice shaking with worry. "Tell me what happened." Trembling, y/n pulled away from her father and fled up the stairs, her tears falling faster than ever.

Bill followed her up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached her bedroom, he found her sitting on her bed, her face buried in a pile of tissues. Her nose was still bleeding, and there were fresh bruises on her arm. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, sitting down beside her. "You should have told me. I would have been there to help you." She just shook her head, unable to speak through her sobs.

Bill picked up the phone and called Tom, his brother, best friend, and y/n's godfather. "Hey, Tom. It's Bill. Listen, we've got a situation here. y/n just got home from school with a bloody nose and bruises all over her arms. I think she was bullied. Can you and the guys come over and help me out?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Tom spoke up. "Of course, Bill. We'll be right there."

Layla's room was suddenly filled with the sounds of men's voices as Tom, Tom's wife, and another couple of y/n's guardians arrived. They took in the sight of their distraught daughter and exchanged worried glances. "y/n," Tom began, kneeling in front of her. "I want you to know that you did the right thing by not fighting back. But now we need to take care of you. How bad does it hurt?" She tried to answer, but her sobs made it impossible. "Okay," Tom said, his voice steady and reassuring. "We're going to get you cleaned up and take care of those bruises. Then we're going to have a talk with the principal about what happened."

The men moved into action, gathering the necessary supplies to treat Layla's injuries. As they worked, they continued to reassure her that everything would be alright, and that they would make sure the bullies were dealt with. For the first time since the attack, y/n felt a tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things were about to change for the better.

When they were finally finished, Bill helped y/n up and led her downstairs to the living room. They sat down together, and Bill explained to Tom and the others what had happened at school that day. As he listened, Tom's expression grew dark, and he vowed to make sure the principal took appropriate action.

The next day, y/n's father accompanied her to the school. They met with the principal, who assured them that they took the matter very seriously and would be investigating the incident. The bully, as it turned out, had a history of disciplinary issues, and the principal promised that she would be dealt with harshly.

As the days went by, y/n felt a new sense of security as she walked the halls of the school. She knew that her father and her friends were watching out for her, and she wasn't afraid to go to them if anything else happened. She also began to make new friends, people who treated her with kindness and respect.

One afternoon, as she was walking home from school, she saw the bully waiting for her at the end of the block. For a moment, she felt a surge of fear, but then she remembered the promises that had been made, and she squared her shoulders and walked right past her. The bully said nothing, and y/n continued on her way, her heart pounding but her step confident.

The following week, y/n's father received a call from the school. It seemed that the bully had been expelled.

With the bully gone, y/n began to feel more at ease at school. She made new friends, joined clubs, and even started participating in sports. She discovered that she had a talent for soccer and found herself enjoying the camaraderie of the team. Her grades improved, and she felt a new sense of self-confidence.

A/n: take that you mean kids

[marauderqueensblog]

Life’s brighter with you around/luke castellan

authors note: In honor of my 1 year anniversary of being on tumblr yay so I thought what better than write a Luke oneshot. And also the reader is the daughter of selene the goddes of the moon cause I haven’t seen a kid of them yet on tumble

Summary:Luke’s always had nightmares ever since he can remember but that all changed when he met you

Pairing: luke castellan x Selene daughter!reader

Warning: slight angst, mentions of death, and torturing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Luke can remember he always had terrible nightmares. Either about his mothers death,his father leaving, Thalia being tortured. He’ll wake up in a cold sweat tears running down his face looking around rapidly. It was absolutely horrible like being trapped in an old disgusting memory but he just had to watch it happen again. No moving no screaming just watching. He made a swear to himself that if anyone he loved where to get hurt he’d sacrifice himself.

Especially when he met you. You arrived at camp when you where where 13 he had barely been there a few months when he met you. You walked threw the gates looking the best way Luke can describe like you’d been hit by a bus. A bruised eye cut lip and large cut on your side bleeding threw your shirt looking like yo I where gonna pass out. It made Luke remember everything he has to go threw to get to camp.

He remembers you coming in and almost falling from the blood loss. He immediately runs up to you getting you by the shoulders. “Hey are you ok”he asked “um not really kinda bleeding out just a little bit” oh here let me get you to the infirmary” he walked you to the infirmary in the middle of camp finally settling you down in a bed. “Chiron Chiron can somebody tell Chiron we have a new camper who needs immediate medical attention” that’s all you nheard till it faded to black. But you where patched up and woke up. Looking around frantically you spotted Luke “you your the guys who helped me” he chuckles “ yea no problem you can call me Luke castellan” he states holding out his hand “ well castellan you can call me y/n l/n” after that you and Luke had become inseparable.

Luke had spent all day trying to find your godly parent and there was no luck. Till that night you where talking to Luke about how you’ve always felt some strange connection to the moon and it’s beauty. All of a sudden a crescent moon appeared above you. He looked up shocked “you your the child of Selene the moon goddess”. You laughed “guess that explains my weird moon obsession. You where the only child at camp daughter of the moon goddess there was obviously no cabin for you. Which meant your home would be in the Hermes cabin. But that was a plus meant you could be closer to Luke.One night you where trying to sleep when you where woken up to heavy breathing.

You looked around till you pinpointed the sound. Luke’s bunk You thought. You quickly make your wait over there. He sees you and calms his breathing a bit. “Oh I’m sorry did I wake you”. “No no don’t worry are you ok bad dream”. “Oh um yea” “want me to maybe stay with you I don’t have to but if it’ll make you feel better”. “That would actually make me feel a lot better” you smile and slowly crawl into bed with him. You wake up to one of Lukes half siblings Hannah looking over you too smirking. “Hey you can’t tell anyone Hannah please” you pleaded. “Fine I’ll keep your little secret” she says she walking away. After that it became a usual thing he’d get nightmares come to your bed you’d crawl into his. And Hannah would wake you before everyone else woke. But eventually Luke got tired of hiding this.

you where so devoted to helping him he felt himself truly slipping into you more and more every day. It’s like he didn’t know what to do. “Chris it’s driving me mad I just love her so much” Chris rolls his eyes sick of hearing this every day. “ then why don’t you ask her out already she clearly likes you”. “You think she really does” he says hopeful look on his face” “man look she wakes up whenever you want doesn’t get mad you interrupt her sleep gets into literal bed with you just to make you feel better after your bad dreams I don’t know but that sounds like love to me”

“oh my Gods Chris thank you for opening my eyes I gotta” he says running away. “Hah and now I’m getting some money” Chris exclaims remembering his bet with Clarissa over who would convince the other to date each-other first.

When Luke finally finds you he’s breathing heavily. “Are you ok” “ yes Amazing actually ok here goes nothing y/n l/n I love you with all my heart I love how caring you are and how you never hesitate to help out anyone” I love hearing you talk about things you love like the stars and the moon and hearing the stories while you point at constellations”. “You’ve made my life amazing and saved me will you be my girlfriend” “oh my goodness you finally ask of course I’ll be your girlfriend idiot” you exclaim grabbing his face and kissing him”. Then you here a angry

groan in the back you both look to see clarisse stomping her feet like a child. “what clarisse sad I got her first” Luke says. “No castellan Im angry I lost my bet with Chris” she says storming off. You look at Luke and say “ten bucks there gonna date next” “ten bucks I’ll get Chris to date her next”. “ oh your so on pretty boy you say”. And then started the ongoing bets at camp half-blood. Watching the sky that night with Luke you could have sworn the moon shined just a little brighter with him around

author note: this kinda went off the rails but it’s was so fun to make and now I write for clarisse cause I found my love for her also sorry the text style changed halfway threw I switched devices

[princeescaluswords]

I've been thinking about Munroe and wondering what about season 6 could have been different if her supernatural trauma was related to the nogitsune and the oni instead like in the hospital attack. I think it would be make her hatred of the pack a bit more compelling because they, especially Scott, actually did choose to save and protect Stiles regardless of the danger to other people and they could do something interesting with Scott and Stiles' guilt over it all. I also feel like it would be more believable for her to have supporters if they were other survivors who saw what they thought was the sheriff's son do something terrible and then have it completely covered up.

Do you think that's something that would have worked? How do you think it would have played out?

I think that your musings are inadvertently neglecting a very key part of Tamora Monroe's story. Unless I am mistaken (and feel free to correct me if I am) you're arguing that if her trauma had been directly connected to something the pack chose to do rather than something that they failed to stop, it would have made more of an impact. I agree that it would have certainly made her hostility toward the pack more personal.

However, I consider the fact that it wasn't due to a specific decision is vitally important dimension to her story. As usual, I'm going to preface my remarks by making it clear that Monroe is a villain, and my exploration of her motivations should not be taken as approval of her actions in any way.

To me, the central premise to Tamora Monroe's story isn't that she experienced trauma. A lot of people in the show experienced trauma and reacted to it in ways both good and bad. No, Monroe's fury arises from the way the main characters reacted to her trauma. She may have completely recovered from the damage the Beast did to her. She may have mourned the friends she lost on that school bus. What she can't accept is how unimportant the reaction made her seem. Something terrible happened to her but it was a side effect, a background detail to a trap made by a monster for others she saw as monsters.

In a bit of clever meta-narrative (with a bit of clear social commentary thrown in), Monroe existed as a minor victim, an extra designed, as T. S. Eliot put it, "to swell a scene or two." Her words to Corey in Said the Spider to the Fly (6x11) establish not only things about Corey's character but also hers.

Tamora: Look, I understand the need to keep up, to be recognized or noticed. Everybody feels invisible sometimes.

What Monroe went through wasn't given any importance. The bodies in the school bus were bait and afterwards, they were carted away never to be mentioned or dealt with again. If she hadn't survived, no one would have given her a second thought.

But she did survive, and even though she did, she still wasn't given enough importance -- enough value -- to be told what really happened to her. She figured it out on her own, and that is where her anger comes from. Her life didn't matter. That type of dismissal can be enraging, and she takes out that rage on those who she sees as acting that way in Raw Talent (6x12).

Monroe: I'm sorry. I should've told you. It's wolfsbane.

When I first heard that line, I was confused. Why would she say that to a werewolf she was hunting? However, it's clear on reflection that this line speaks directly to her motivation. Wolfsbane is dangerous to werewolves, so she should have told Brett that there was wolfsbane in the lacrosse ball, just as the Beast was dangerous to her, and she should have been told about the Beast. She is claiming an eye for an eye.

Her speech to the Sheriff in Werewolves of London (6x17) is also worth analyzing.

Monroe: Understand each other. Do you wanna know what I understand, Sheriff? Do you wanna know what I see in your little show and tell?

She speaks passionately because this is what should have happened way back after she survived the Beast. She should have been allowed to understand what was happening. She should have been listened to, but she didn't have any power. Only now, when she has power, are the people responsible willing to talk. She'll say that exact thing to Scott in After Images (6x13). Now that they're listening, she's going to do the talking.

Monroe: I see a sheriff unable to control the violence in his own county. A county he's sworn to protect. I see the same sheriff in way over his head. And not ready to believe the truth that's been staring him in the face for years.

It's clear that she thought she feels that people like the Sheriff were operating under false premises. They were supposed to keep the monsters away from people who couldn't protect themselves.

Monroe: I was told I was the victim of a wild animal attack. A bear. I was lied to. You lied to protect them over us.

The attack itself doesn't matter as much as the disregard. She was treated as a second-class citizen as opposed to monsters who can heal from stab wounds in a matter of minutes and grow claws and fangs at will. She was made to feel invisible, powerless, and unimportant.

Until she wasn't. Until she had enough power and enough followers to make them treat her differently.

So, what pushed her into become the woman who callously ordered Edgar the Werecoyote disposed of as trash? Well, she wouldn't be the first woman in Teen Wolf manipulated and used by a particularly selfish man to further his own ends.

Gerard: Someone who has been doing this a lot longer than you, but also someone who recognizes raw talent when he sees it.

Gerard had obviously been studying Monroe and figured out what I argue up above. It's not the wounds, it's the lies. It's the ignorance. Notice how many times during Season 6B Gerard emphasizes Monroe's importance or emphasizes how much she needs to learn, or emphasizes that this is what happens when the supernatural is unchecked. He's honed in on her psychology and uses her as a tactical advantage, one he's more than willing to discard once she's outlived her usefulness. Just as he did with Kate. Just as he did with Allison back in Season 2. It's the same thing -- take their feelings and twist them into action.

Monroe fit into Teen Wolf perfectly.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eighteen

Back in Clontarf, I perch at the gleaming, marble island while Jude prepares dinner. I watch him doing it with undisguised interest, because he cooks the way that I imagine he makes art, fully absorbed, with precision and confidence, and completely and utterly in the flow of his own enjoyment. He connects his iPhone to a Bluetooth speaker and plays music for a while, until Ivy bursts in and complains that she can’t focus on her homework with all of the noise.

He switches it off for her, but even in the silence he moves around to the beat of the music in his head, with a smile on his face that only endures the more stupid questions I ask him about what he’s doing. He’s making a spice mix in a pestle and mortar, he’s coating the fillets in flour, that’s actually rose water, not vanilla, yes, he taught himself how to do this, those flowers are actually totally edible, they’re not just there to look good, so a shallot is actually stronger than an onion, that’s why he’s using it. He prepared a lot of it earlier, marinating fresh fish in harissa for hours, and par boiling the potatoes so that they’d be oven ready by the time we got home from visiting Jen, and when I ask him where he found the time to do all of this he explains that he was simply procrastinating, because he doesn’t want to write his thesis. 

We eat at the dining table with Ivy, who shovels the food into her mouth in the span of about five minutes despite her complaints about it tasting bad, and gives a series of very bored, one word answers to his questions about school in between mouthfuls. He reminds her that she should practise for her piano lesson tomorrow and tells her that he can’t collect her from afterschool hockey so she’ll have to get the bus. It occurs to me that this is perhaps the most un-sibling like relationship I’ve ever witnessed. Perhaps it’s a symptom of their age gap. 

“Where’re your parents tonight?” I query once Ivy rushes off to her bedroom to reconvene whatever teen girl things were interrupted by dinner, and he looks down at his plate. “Working late again.”

“Seems like they really like to work.”

“They sure do. Or they really like not having to be in this house.”

He’s said things like this to me before, these kind of vaguely troubling statements about his parents in very casual, matter of fact ways, as though they’re entirely absent and have no love for each other whatsoever, and this is something he finds normal. I’ve never asked him about it before, and something I’ve never quite been able to handle the idea of broaching, but now, since we’re… kind of, sort of going out with each other it suddenly feels important to know whether his expectations for his own relationships are different to his parents’ strange marriage.  

“What is it about them?”

“We don’t have to discuss these grim things about my family, it’s alright.”

“We don’t have to, but I think I’d like to know about it.”

He pushes his food thoughtfully around his plate. “They just shouldn’t have gotten married, I suppose. I think they meant well initially but it’s ultimately done more damage than good.” He glances towards the closed door and up towards the ceiling, where his sister is, and lowers his voice a little bit. “I think they’ll probably get a divorce as soon as Ivy finishes school.”

“Oh.”

“I’m the reason they’re married, and she’s the reason they’re still together. They had this amazing idea at one point that having another child would solve all of their issues, but now they’ve just trapped themselves in a bind for an extra nine years. They could be blissfully divorced by now, but they won’t do it until she’s moved out, because they don’t want to disrupt her schooling.” 

“How old were they when you were born?”

“Nineteen and twenty one.” 

“Oh, God.”

“Yep, big mistake. Whoops.” he tosses a chunk of potato into his mouth and leans back in his chair. “Mom finished school and went to stay with her aunt in America, took up a job at a department store in Albuquerque, hooked up with a med student at a bar on her first month there, and well…” He throws up his hands in mock celebration. “Here I am!”

“I suppose that being unmarried with a child wasn’t really an option for your mother at the time.” 

“No, not at all, I mean, she had come from catholic Ireland. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to live at home again unless she married the man from that bar.” The way he speaks about his father is strange, as though despite his presence in their lives, he’s still some random, nameless med student from San Bernardino. 

“And then what?” 

“Well, then my dad continued school, and my mom began her studies and my great aunt took care of me on and off until my dad got his doctorate degree. Then they had Ivy, on purpose, by the way, and when she was a baby we moved back here.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

I breathe out a laugh. “You’re so cagey.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah it’s like you don’t want to talk about them, or your home life, like, ever.”

He doesn’t look like he’s all that bothered by my interrogation, he just gives me this self-effacing little smile. “Come on, Evie. It’s because this stuff is boring.” 

“I don’t think it’s boring at all.” 

“Well, okay. They didn’t want to be together, they shouldn’t have had kids, and they act like they never did because they barely parented either one of us. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at letting things drop?”

“Yeah, loads. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at talking about serious things?”

“Of course.” The corner of his mouth quirks up and he lifts my arm from the table to kiss the inner part of my wrist. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

“Yes, you. Tell me what it was like for you when you were growing up.” 

“I’ve told you loads about my childhood already though.” 

“Yeah, you have, and I loved hearing about how badly behaved you were and what it felt like to live in America, but I wish you’d get into the guts of it, the real stuff.”

“The real stuff?”

“The stuff that makes you so clearly sad. You get that look on your face whenever it comes up.”

He hasn’t let go of my wrist, and now his thumb is gently stroking the skin that he kissed a moment before while he stares out into the garden through streak-free glass patio doors, and he chews on his lip before deciding to speak. “Well, when Ivy was born I stopped being a kid, I suppose. My parents didn’t have a lot of interest in caring for either of us, and I was lucky, because my great aunt in Albuquerque did all of that for them when I was little, but when we moved here the support system really fell away. Nobody had considered that. We have my mom’s parents, but they’re about as warm as she is, and even though we’d be dumped over to theirs at the weekends, it wasn’t like we had especially fun or memorable times. Usually we’d get some bucket of crap toys from the seventies and whatever was on the three TV channels that they had. They were okay, but Ivy was a really nervous toddler. She didn’t like being around unfamiliar people, to the point that our grandmother would have to roll her bottles down the hallway to where she was hiding at the bottom of the stairs so that she’d drink anything at all. She just screamed whenever either of our grandparents came near her. It just wasn’t working out, so we eventually stopped having to go, and by then, when I was like eleven, it just made sense that I’d look after her instead.”

“What did that involve?”

“Everything. Feeding her, dressing her, putting her to bed, shopping for food, toys, eventually bringing her to the creche. She used to go to the childminders while I was at school, but only until I finished at three or four o’clock, and then I’d swing by and get her. A child collecting another child, like, I don’t know if they’d let that kind of thing happen anymore, but it was a small family run childminders, the kind of lawless place where they have this one old granny looking after about twelve children in her house and everything and anything goes. My mom used to come home and cook dinner for a while, but she was delighted when I got old enough to do that for her too. It meant she could stay out of the house for longer and do whatever she used to do. Have affairs or whatever.” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean, I really don’t know if that was ever the case but I wouldn’t be that surprised. Everything got really confined because of Ivy, you know? I always had to be home, and helping, and collecting and living my life on this schedule while all the other teenagers were just being blissfully selfish and… just teenagers.”

“But you had time to yourself, surely?”

“Yeah, at night when my parents were finally home from work, but I mean, yeah, it wasn’t about not having time to do hobbies or hang out with my friends, it was about having to do it at all. It was about having to consider those things. Nobody should have to parent their siblings, it was really stifling and really unfair. If my parents wanted another child then they should have been prepared to take care of her. You can’t just offload that responsibility onto the older child. I resented it, and I still do.”

I spear my fingers into the side of his hair and run my hand down the back of his head. “That’s why you went to Berlin.” 

“I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have ever had to.”

“Right.” He hesitates and his teeth rake over his lower lip, pulling the skin until it’s taut and white. “I just feel like going to Berlin was the most selfish thing I could have possibly done though.”

“No way.” I say. “It forced your parents to do what they should have been doing all along, and look after your sister.” 

“Yeah but it didn’t really do that. I look at Ivy now, and she’s doing a lot of those things I used to do for her all on her own. My parents never stepped up like I hoped they would, so she’s just becoming another teenager with too many responsibilities, and parents that will divorce as soon as they can and leave her without a solid base to come home to when she’s in college. And then, you know, on the other hand I think about Jen, and how bad everything has become for her and I know that if I’d stayed, and if I’d been here for her then maybe I could have-”

“It’s no use thinking that, Jude. You had to be on your own for once. You can’t hold up the whole world on your shoulders.”

“I’m selfish.” His voice is acidic, and the moment I feel his fingers loosen on me I grab a hold of his sleeve, because all of a sudden it feels vitally important to keep a connection between us.

“You didn’t get a proper childhood. I’d be even more selfish if I were you. You need to be doing the things that you want to do, seeing the world, partying with your friends, all of that stuff that you’ve been doing for the last four years. It’s all food for your soul.” 

“You’re too forgiving of me. It’s okay to say that I’ve been generally inconsiderate.”

“You’re way too hard on yourself.” I say quietly. “And you know that’s not true. You’re a good person, and you were always so nice to me, even when I was quiet and shy. You made an effort to talk to me at that time that Jen invited me to that modern art exhibition in Dublin, and you made me feel so included and asked so many questions about me even though I felt so nervous around you both.”

“I feel like that’s the least anyone could have done.” He says sulkily, as though he doesn’t really feel like being talked out of his mood. “The more I dwell on it the more I think there is something seriously wrong with me. Something that should have been figured out a lot earlier, but like, here I am, a twenty two year old, in the final months of my final year at college and I feel a bit… I dunno, lost, or something. I’m floundering, and I don’t really know who I am anymore. I swore I had it figured out at eighteen but now that seems laughable to me.”

“Nobody tells you how weird it is to be in your twenties.” I declare. “They insist that it’s amazing and fun and you’ll have all of this independence, but actually it feels strange and vulnerable, and there’s no rule book about how to navigate your way through it. One day you’re a stupid teenager and the next you live on your own and you have to know how to use the city bus and remember the pin of a debit card.”

“Yeah.” 

“It’s alright that you find it hard, is all I’m saying, and I for one, feel like I truly knew nothing about being an adult. To be honest sometimes I get a bit freaked out by how lost I feel. But then I try not to think about it, and I just go on with my day.”

“That’s your advice?” He says, with the hint of a smile threatening to crack through the gloom. “Just don’t think about it?”

“Probably shouldn’t be, should it?”

“I think that’s terrible advice, Evie.”

“Well that’s all I have for you.”

He leans into me and lightly kisses my jaw before going back to his food, and the featherlight touch of his lips sends shivers right down to my toes. “Well I think we should think about hard things.” He says. “I think that ignoring them only gives them more power, actually.”

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to be processed now. They’re meant for later.”

“How much later?”

“I don’t know. Just later.” I push the last of my dinner onto my fork and into my mouth and try not to feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s watching me like I’m under a spotlight. 

“I just want you to know that if you ever wanted to talk to me about any of the things that happened you in first year then-”

My chair makes a hideous scraping noise against the parquet floor. “Do you have any pictures of you when you were small?” I say, wiping my hands on the thighs of my jeans, and he blinks. “Um. Why?”

“Just when we were talking about your childhood, like,” I stack his empty plate on top of mine. “I was wondering to myself what you might have looked like as a little boy. That’s all.”

“There are some, somewhere yeah. I can root them out if you want.”

“I’d love that, would you mind?” I hastily pack things away in the dishwasher, and I put the plates in crookedly, and I can’t find where the cutlery goes, and Jude is there, and he takes the forks out of my hands and gingerly places them into the sink. 

“It’s fine. Leave it.” He says. “Come into the living room, I’ll get the baby photos out.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[kaori04]

@thelostgirl21 So I finished watching and getting back to you!

I felt really bad for Radovid by the end, but also excited, this is very interesting storyline that can go in many ways with a huge potential for development for both Radovid and Jaskier. I am especially happy that it provides a good opportunity for Jaskier to be someone else entirely except for his comic relief persona he performs for everybody else except Radovid, the only one who takes him seriously and is eager to get to know him on a deep level without dismissiveness other demonstrate his way. Same goes in the opposite direction too, as Radovid was never taken seriously too, not by his ignorant brother Visimir who is not delicate enough to understand Radovid's more tender nature, and not by masterminds Dijkstra and Philippa, who consider him only as an object of manipulation in their game of thrones and no worthy of real attention.

Radovid and Jaskier are two sensitive and deeply empathetic ppl who developed their own protective tools for dealing with harsh realities of the world they are in. Jaskier has his humor, while Radovid prefers just to be quiet to appear smarter/more knowledgeable than he is and he is also very careful with his words whenever he does speak. So while both are very reflective of the world around them and have a habit to read ppl around them, their coping mechanisms that usually help them to survive also come back to bite them in the ass when they encounter someone who is genuine in their attempts to build a sincere connection with them.

Radovid's secretive nature, his lack of spontaneuty makes him seem more dangerous than he is, like he has something to hide (didn't it fool us all before vol. 2), and it indeed prevents him from being open and honest. That inevitably leads to a scene like that in ep. 6, when his actions is very difficult to explain without assuming his bad faith, so Jaskier falls in this trap. And I actually think Jaskier believes Radovid is telling the truth, but circumstances are such that Jaskier cannot just relax and believe in the best, because if he is wrong and acts on it the results might be catastrophic, so he takes the safest route, even if it means hurting the man who had a potential to become the most important person in his life. Jaskier chooses others (Ciri and everyone else who would get hurt if she gets in the wrong hands) over himself, and yes, also sort of pushes Radovid under the bus too. But on the one hand there is the life of a young innocent girl he feels responsible for and the destiny of the continent, and on the other there are feelings of grown man who is the whole prince (and he isn't aware yet how dangerous his household is).

I don't want it to sound like I think Jaskier choose the best route of action, I think he could be far more delicate about it, imho no need to be rude and everything. And taking into the account how soft Jaskier is with everyone else who demonstrates him their vulnerability, it looked even out of character. But given the circumstances (very stressful) I can take that as a narrative device to create more drama and more conflict and prepare the grounds for more interesting and deeper exploration of both the characters. It will all depend on how the twn team will deal with that further.

[darkwater-smidge]

Thatch Haired Youth

A Phineas Thatch fan mix

With line notes about song choices below the cut.

Icarus

The classic tale of a trapped boy trusting to be freed using the wings built by his father and crashing into the sea after flying too high and too fast.

Locker Room

The industrious masculinity of the setting mixed with the desperate need to prove one's worth matches the Phineas we meet early in season 1.

Boy on the Bus

The Phineas we know is about 22 (stated to be no more than 10 years older than Tzila). To be Adsecla to the Prime Consector by age 22 means he probably started with the Company much younger.

The Kids will be Alright Eventually

There's a driving desperation to Phineas where he feels the need to feel grateful for the opportunities he's been given, but those same opportunities are what put him into debt with the Trust. So, like the bridge of the song says, he's good, for nothing.

The White Shore

The people who grow up in The Trust, particularly those in The Highest Light are taught to turn a blind eye to the violence and manipulation The Trust uses to perpetuate itself.

I Wanna Be Your Dog 2

Phineas going straight from Trust foster care/orphanage to The Company has made a young man so desperate to be given orders that he doesn't know what he is without the system he built himself around.

Accident Waiting To Happen

The incident at the Black Candle Cabaret was in many ways inevitable. Phineas's world view to this point was just like his mica armor, rigid and protective but explosive and unstable if hit with resistance at the wrong angle.

Yes All Cops

Even if they're called Consector or Adsecla, they're still cops. Phineas displayed the violence too obviously and so was abandoned as a scapegoat, but no matter how peaceful and enlightened the Trust pretends the company is they're still space marines in giant video game armor zip lining into missions with mica weapons and fold grenades.

I Broke My Own Rule

What Phineas did to Sherman starts to sink in and he starts to spiral

Bad

More spiraling, but this time about being disconnected from the Trust and having no opportunity to document his deeds either good or bad. Having no feedback or support to Do Good in the way he's used to.

Make a Change

Phineas needs to change, and at first he thinks he needs to change to be more like the image of Jonas Spahr in his head, but trying to live up to someone you've put on a pedestal leads you to see the hard fascade of the statue instead of the equally fallible person they are. And it was only when Phineas was removed from the environment of the Trust entirely could he see any other way to change himself.

Dreams Of Cannibalism

Phineas starts to grapple with how the Trust treats needing help as something to repent for. Meanwhile he paid back that kindness by being turned into a weapon of prosecution. Now he's trying to figure out what mortality means to just him.

Change in the Weather

Thrown into a tailspin by the events of season 1, Phineas had no hope of feeling the light again, but has some new perspective and and feels like he's climbing out of the hole he put himself in.

God Hates Facts

It's a long and painful road to distance yourself from a toxic ideology you were raised in. One with doubt and violence but one that lots of other people walk too if you can keep yourself from hurting them before you can connect.

Face the Void

Phineas has a lot of big ideas and strong opinions but didn't have nuance and perspective until he faced the void of the Fold. He had used Fold grenades countless times but didn't understand the weight of it until he was on Midst. And after that he didn't see the beauty of the Fold until he went deeper and experienced it first hand.

The Market of Compassion

A reflection of the Trust and how it turns kindness into a transaction.

It's Alright

It's good to remember that the actions of our past aren't everything we are for the rest of our lives and it's a lesson Phineas really needed from the Mothers. He's still trying to fly on new wings though and still views redemption as a binary balancing of the scales rather than a lifelong journey.

Little Skylark (worsted wood)

Ending on a lullaby, Phineas had found the space to rest and collect himself, but the story isn't over yet and he's still caught in the wilderness.

[wowbright]

Fic: Wisdom to Listen

Klaine Advent 2022: give

Words: ~ 1,100 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Blaine can't sleep. His body is telling him something.

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2022! This vignette takes after Recognition and simultaneously with the first part of Losing My Sleep (it’s sort of a mirror fic).

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (Klaine Advent bits in bold; Klaine Valentine in italics and bold.)

_________

Blaine couldn’t sleep. He’d tried prayer. He’d tried counting backwards from a thousand in German. He’d conjured detailed images of an idea he had for an alternative animal shelter, where cats lounged in an enormous, sunlight-filled pavilion outfitted with a forest of enormous cat trees reaching the vaulted ceiling. Some of the cats watched birds and butterflies outside floor-to-floor windows, while others lazed atop tall towers in napping bliss. He imaged the scene down to the color pattern and length of each cat’s coat, and the little patches in the cat tree coverings that had been clawed bare.

Finally, in a variation of counting sheep, he imagined the cats jumping through a hula hoop, one by one.

But none of it worked.

Part of the problem was that Blaine was vaguely horny, which was making him tense. He'd thought of releasing the valve in the shower after they got home earlier that evening, but it didn't seem urgent. Despite what Elder Hummel seemed to think, Blaine didn't go at it every opportunity he had. Blaine believed in moderation in all things, and he'd already provided release for himself twice since Sunday.

The problem, he thought, was not so much that he was horny, but that he was lonely. That should be impossible. He’d spent all day—all week, all month—with his best friend, and now that same best friend was sleeping in the same room with him.

But Blaine had an ache inside him that even Elder Hummel’s presence could not fill. It had started somewhere in the middle of singing Circle of Our Love and grown through their evening meetings with investigators and the bus trip home— when, instead of asking Blaine to sit with him, Elder Hummel had suggested they get in more contacting time by sitting next to strangers.

The only relief had been just before bed, when Blaine hugged Elder Hummel good night. In that moment, with Elder Hummel's arms wrapped tight around him, Blaine felt sheltered from every bad and frightening thing, and he was no longer lonely.

Back in middle school, the answer to this feeling had been easy. He'd go over to Sam's house or Sam would come over to his, and they would sit in Sam’s bed or his own and watch movies and read comics and talk and talk until they wore themselves out. They’d fall asleep next to each other, and even when they weren't touching, Blaine could feel Sam's warmth near him, and he knew he wasn't alone.

The sound of shifting blankets caught Blaine’s attention. Elder Hummel stood from his bed and walked over to the dresser.

“Can’t sleep?” Blaine flicked the nightstand light on.

Elder Hummel blinked. “Not really. Thought I’d get out my MP3 player and listen to my sleep songlist.”

“I can’t sleep either. I've tried prayer and counting backwards in German and imagining the perfect animal shelter and counting cats—”

“Cats?”

“Yeah," said Blaine. “Like counting sheep, but with cats.”

“Of course. I should have known,” Elder Hummel said with an amused smile as he settled back onto his bed. “Is something bothering you?”

Blaine didn't know the answer to that question. He felt lonely, but was that a feeling of botherment? And the only reason he felt lonely was because he had felt the opposite of lonely while singing Circle of Our Love with Elder Hummel on the streets of downtown Ingolstadt. He had felt connected to Kurt in a way that surpassed the moment or the physical trappings of their lives. He still felt it, partially. But something was missing. It was the easy intimacy he used to share with Sam during sleepovers—being in each other's space without invading each other’s space, because somehow the world around them seem to grow bigger when they were alone together.

“I don’t know if I’m bothered,” Blaine said. “We were busy today, so I should be exhausted. But maybe I got too amped up instead.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Elder Hummel said.

Blaine shook his head, his gaze absently fixed on the MP3 player in Elder Hummel’s hands. Blaine remembered when he had been the object in Elder Hummel’s hands, when Elder Hummel had held his head and spoken on behalf of the Lord: I bless you with the wisdom to listen to your own body. “Does that MP3 player have a speaker?”

Elder Hummel looked down at the gadget in his hands, as if he'd forgotten it was there. “No, just headphones. Why? You want to listen?”

“I thought it might help. But if there’s no speaker—”

“We could share the headphones,” Elder Hummel had said.

The last time they had done that had been less than a week into their transfer together, sitting together on Blaine’s bed just before Kurt came out to him. The memory warmed Blaine's heart. I bless you with the wisdom to listen to your own body. “We can’t really do that without sharing a bed,” Blaine said, testing the waters.

Elder Hummel frowned. “I'm not sure that's a good idea. It’s against the rules to sleep in the same bed at night. Too much crowding.”

If those were Elder Hummel’s only objections— Blaine clapped his hands together. “I know!”  He jumped out of his bed and tugged on the frame until it made a loud creak and scraped across the floor.

“What are you doing!?” Elder Hummel said in a loud whisper. “You could wake the downstairs neighbors.”

“No, they moved out last week. Remember?”

“Fine. But you could gouge the floor. And I still don’t know why you’re moving furniture in the middle of the night.”

“Oh.” Maybe Blaine had been rash. Maybe they weren't on the same page. “I thought …” and Blaine had to pause for a second there, because had he really thought? Or had he just done? On the other hand, what was wrong with just doing sometimes? The scriptures said I will go and do when the Spirit prompts, not I will think about it for twenty years first and then maybe do. “If I move my bed next to yours, we can share the headphones.”

“Oh,” Elder Hummel said, his face momentarily expressionless as he processed this new piece of information. But then he broke out into a smile not unlike the one he'd worn as they’d sung Circle of Our Love together. “That works.”

[platonicwizard]

A Hand Always Follows The Crown - Martyn/Scott

It's crazy how things are so different and yet so familiar.

This world was cursed in so many ways. This ever longing loop of life and death in a small portion of the world, the personal curses each of them seemed to carry, and the heavy bloodlust of the boogieman that stayed even after fulfilling the awful needs.

Martyn had one too, or maybe many, he seemed cursed in ways that others weren't. Maybe that's what this was, a curse to repeat events of other worlds.

"If I'm close to death, I want you to be the one to kill me" Scott turned to him, a hard look on his face.

"Yeah, I can do" Martyn said casually, a smile etched to his face. Oh how heavy that mask has grown over these games.

The axe felt heavy in his hands, a constant reminder of how easy it was to kill those who stood around him. For the most part he has grow insensitive to it, but this was different but all at the same time familiar.

Ren wasn't here, he had made it out somehow and Martyn was trapped here without him. Martyn knows it's a selfish thought, to want to drag his other half with him through these wretched worlds. But, he needed his constant, and it was Ren, it will always be Ren.

Maybe that's why he was thinking about him when Scott gave him the chance to take his life.

It's not the same as Ren, Ren kneeled to him prepared for his death. Scott had only told him that if things were to get bad in a fight Martyn was allowed to bring down his axe.

So when it did, that moment in the water, pushing Jimmy away as he took Scott's life, it was so painfully familiar.

He pushed himself out of the water and did not follow the others as they swarmed for Tango. No, he pushed himself in a lonely corner of the world and vomited. Tears spilled from his eyes as the painful memories of 3rd Life flashed through his head.

This wasn't 3rd Life, Scott wasn't Ren, he never would be. Ren was gone somewhere safe without the need of Martyn beside him and that hurt more than any of his deaths.

Thank gods he wasn't soul connected to Cleo anymore. That women had been through enough with him in the last world. Finding him when Ren had died, alone in his bastion. He was on the verge of just ripping his eyes and ears out when she sat by him. By no means were they on good terms, but unlike some others, Cleo understood that Martyn needed a strong force beside him. Too bad they lost, he liked Cleo by the end of it.

Martyn pushed people away to a fault, and he had done the same to her. He was doing the same to Scott, too. He really needed to get help with, well, everything.

His timer ticked away, wasting what little time he had left crying over the past. With a deep breath, he stood up and slowly made his way to his and Scott's base. As he did, he felt the pings of his communicator go off, and from how quietly it suddenly was outside he assumed they got to Tango.

At least for now yellow peace was happening before another mass killing.

It had been looming onto night when he got to the night when he had made it back. His timer still clicked away, meaning they still weren't on break yet. Martyn could live with that, maybe he could finally do some mining for himself so he didn't have to look at Scott yet.

It's seems as though the world had other plans though as Scott sat atop of the base, immediately clocking Martyn as he got close.

"Took you long enough to get back, thought you just ran away after you got my time" an easy smile set on Scott's face, much different from his look earlier. It fit better with him.

Martyn took a quick breath as he also smiled, "I had been caught up with the others, was trying to get Tango's time too."

"It seems as though T.I.E.S. did the same as us, honestly Skizz needed the time with how quickly he's going to be red" Martyn's facade dropped momentarily, realizing that soon, far sooner than he would have liked, the reds would suddenly appear. But he fixed himself, not ready to show the concern.

Not much ever got past Scott though, it's why he won twice. He quirked up his eyebrow as he walked closer to him.

"I didn't see you with the others when it happened, where were you really Martyn?" Scott set a hand on his arm, in hopes to steady him probably. Martyn at least took it as that as he looked to the other.

Martyn doesn't falter though, "Did you get a scar at all from the last hit?"

Maybe not the best topic to change too, not when Ren's own beheading scar ghosted his thoughts. Scott blinked at him with a lazy, knowing look but sighed as he lifted up his shirt.

"Not a terrible one, luckily enough they don't stick outside of this world for me, so it's of not problem" And Martyn looked, and ho how Scott was wrong. The jagged cut of the axe sat on his hip, curling around to infront of him and was cut from sight as it disappeared underneath his pants.

Martyn's heart twisted at the sight. The pain caused his already weak stomach to react, and with what little control he had over it, he stopped himself from vomiting once again. But, he couldn't stop the visceral reaction he had as he stepped away from the other. It looked too much likes Ren's suddenly, and he can only see it wrapped around Scott's neck instead.

Scott dropped his shirt and almost reached out to touch Martyn before pausing and only letting out his hand. He didn't speak for a moment, contemplating on what would be the best option. But it was Martyn who made the first move as he took ahold of the others hand and pulled him into a hug.

Martyn couldn't remember the last time he initiated a hug but gods was it all that he needed right now. Something stable and different. Ren would hug him a lot, would wrap his arms loosely around his neck as he looked down at him. It was quick most times, but it always brought a great deal of quick comfort to him as he would hide quietly into the other's chest.

Scott was different though, he was about the same height as him, but what he lacked in height he pulled with tight hold. The other had grabbed him by the waist and held him so close.

It took some time, but with common practice Martyn brought his breath and heart rate back to normal. A part of him didn't not want to let go of the other, but the other part told him that they've been here long enough out in the open. So, with reluctants, he pulled away from Scott.

The other pulled away as well, but kept a light grip on his arm. He expected pity and sorrow to be pointed his way, but all he received was a small smile.

Martyn moved his hand up to softly lay it on Scott's neck, not feeling the roughed up skin that a scar would leave, only smooth skin and some gills on the other. Relief left him as he let go of the small anxiety that still plagued him.

"You feeling better now, Martyn?" Scott finally spoke, moving his hand up to meet the one that laid on his neck. Martyn nodded, but then left out a small cough and answered.

"Yeah, better than before" he knew he wouldn't be at his best, and Scott seemed to have known that too.

"If you want, I would like to know why you freaked out like that so I don't do that to you again. Last I checked, you've never done that from looking at a scar" Scott only looked quizzical, but didn't hold pity. Martyn took a few deep breaths as he moved away from Scott completely.

"Maybe somewhere more… covered. You never know who can just show up on the island" Scott simply nodded and pulled Martyn to the building on the island.

“Would you rather stay up here and go to our storage room or go down to our underwater cave?”

“Let’s go to the underwater cave, I’ll be fine in the water.” Martyn wasn’t a hundred percent sure he believed himself, but was better than being in the sight lines of others.

Scott sat down on the side of the island before pushing himself into the water, Martyn following his actions moments later. Luckily enough, the cave didn't take long to get down too and didn't cause Martyn to react poorly.

When he dropped down, he simply sat down on the ground. He watched as Scott gathered a few items, two blankets, a few pillows, and some food and water. When he finished he sat beside him. They simply sat in quiet together before both of their communicates binged with a notification. Without even needing to look, they would tell it was a pause for a break.

It was perfectly convenient and awful at the same time for Martyn. All he could really do now is wait out the break with Scott, who wanted to help him.

Martyn may have momentarily forgotten why they came down here after doing so, but now it was looming over him. He couldn't really get out of it. He could lie to himself saying that telling Scott would make the other trust him more, basically allowing himself to have a higher chance of winning. But that was that, a lie.

He did want to tell Scott because he never told anyone else before. Scott was his friend, one that he wanted to keep throughout all of the worlds he has seen him in. And Scott was different, in ways he didn’t even know, he kept secrets that no one else knew about.

He trusted him.

“Your scar reminded me of Ren” a short and simple answer that held far too many feelings behind them.

“I.. How?” Scott put a hand over where it hid underneath his clothing.

“You… you asked me if it became dire to kill you, I don’t know I just thought of…” Martyn took a breath, pushing down the anxiety that he felt gather up in his throat.

“Martyn you don’t-“

“Of 3rd Life when Ren asked me to prove my loyalty to him by taking his yellow life” It was something all of them knew, of course they all knew.

Scott simply leaned on him and Martyn leaned on him too.

“Does it hurt?” Martyn felt his body tense as he asked the question.

“No, it doesn’t”

“That’s good, that’s good” Martyn felt his body ease with the knowledge. With it, exhaustion settled in him growing comfortable.

Scott pulled him down to lay over onto his lap, and Martyn followed as his limbs had grown heavy. He didn’t want to fight it off though, he trusted Scott, so he let it happen. Before he slipped into sleep he moved his hand up to grab into Scott’s shirt, just so he knew he was there.

“I’ll wake you up when the timer is going to turn back on” he could tell the other was smiling with how softly he spoke, and he let out a hum of acceptance.

“I’ll trust you on that”

[klein-babylon]

hey quick(lmao) question how do I actually begin to be happy and not feel miserable for absoutely no reason while for example waiting alone at the bus stop probably because of realising I lost (better off without them but still)almost all people to hang out with like I just let the emotions get me thinking its pathetic how I should be having fun instead of standing there alone. See, how do I get out of this mental state I dont need to be euphoric and happy about small everyday things just, normal, neutral or cynical, how do I achieve being cynical and high spirited at all times and shake off this parasitic dramatising its tiring me out girl

Invest in yourself (food, education, travel, unique experiences, hobbies), learn to forgive, embrace being dramatic (and the drama will fade away), prioritise socialising, make socialising easy by being yourself from the get go, stop taking life so seriously you’re one of 8 billion people, you are just an animal sharing this planet with trillions of other animals and living organisms

I had to embrace being dramatic and had to learn to be able to laugh at myself … omg my advice is so simple and basic but it works haha

I had to do so many things to be a happy person… I had to figure out my childhood trauma which was a lot.. and when I say figure out I mean I had to realise what aspects of my personality were a result of bad things happening to me rather than my true personality traits. And then I removed those personality traits that were a result of bad things such as.. fear of abandonment, fear of rejection, impulsive attention seeking behaviours, emptiness. And I’m left feeling pretty pure and childlike (in the biblical way) and kind..

I had to forgive everybody which was so hard but it will bring you permanent peace! Which is everything

Don’t be alone for too long, but being alone can bring you all sorts of realisations and results. But it can trap you.. ‘it’ being loneliness. It’s not good for us..

I say.. embrace being dramatic.. stop taking things/yourself/other people/opinions/expectatins/situations so seriously.. work out your true core beliefs and personality traits, and remove the rest, go back to your child self… get into religion, your heritage. For me , the secret to my happiness is what doctors and scientists and influencers say: healthy diet, socialising, working, exercising, resting. But in more details.. this is what I did to change myself from default emo to default happy inspired girl

I eat an organic whole food diet and am 90% vegetarian, trying to become vegan eventually, cuz i value my body and how i physically feel. It’s more expensive to eat organic, but there’s no price for your health. You NEEEED to prioritise your health . Refocus your energy from feeling empty and sad and focus it on feeling nourished and beautiful and healthy. And you will feel 100x better than before. I realised that how I physically feel is so connected to how I mentally feel

I pray and meditate every day, I also daydream every day which I reckon is a form of prayer, it’s made my intuition stronger. I cherish my psychic powers which are real lol they’re unlocked right now. Third eye is open. Also yoga classes/meditation classes are everywhere and i really recommend you go to one early in the morning. Meditating for some reason is intimidating to lots of ppl but you just need to focus on your breathing tbh and keep yourself in the present. The present is all you have by the way you should repeat this to yourself whenever you feel sad and empty. And also it’s so annoying and difficult at first but you need to sit with the feeling of sadness and or emptiness.. I used to freak out at it cuz I thought I was crazy for feeling utterly empty so frequently. But in fact it’s a blessing, you’re like a little lamb, the emptiness is pure. All that emptiness you’re feeling is cleaning out your heart and making way for all these new amazing deep feelings..

I also unintentionally exercise every day cuz I choose to not have a car and i have a bike instead. Also I get in water nearly every day which is like a baptism. And movement is like the foundation for mental health literally

You need to create a group of people you can laugh with and be truly yourself with which is easier said than done. But even if it’s one person you’re luckier than millions of ppl

Work doesn’t need to be your passion and it shouldn’t be taken seriously, it’s a way to make money so you can spend it on things that will benefit you

Resting is going to fix u. And I mean real rest not just lying down.. like.. work yourself out, exhaust yourself, spend a few days alone and treat yourself to real relaxation and luxury. Who gives a fuck. Cuz now you have all this time to reflect , plan, moodboard. Scroll Pinterest. Life is so good in those moments where you’re in your bed under a warm blanket and you’re listening to music and scrolling Pinterest. There’s nothing you need to worry about literally except the name of your new Pinterest board.. it feels so good to feel comfortable and secure. Just chase that feeling outside of your day to day and you’ll be fine

Also you need to stop caring that was the one thing that made me never depressed again. As soon as I just stopped caring what people think about me (which is easy if you actually try it) most of the suffering in my life vanished. Maybe it’s cuz a lot of my suffering came from other ppl tho

[gelukart]

I’m very bored tma + good omens avatar hc

Thinking about Magnus archives while listening to the good omens audio book 😭

I had the wiki open for reference idk if that helps with anything

The four horse men of the apocalypse

Death: The End

Goes with out saying lmao, I mean they pretty much are one in the same less that death is an avatar of The end and more they just are The End

Pollution: The Extinction

I was debating on also going with the slaughter maybe because of like pestilence, and also how they kind of throw other people under bus when messing with the oil rig and other organizations it made me connect it to the “unmotivated violence” idk rather just make it simple so the extinction

Could also see an argument for the corruption but I feel that’s more individual where the extinction is more all encompassing soooo

Famine: The Flesh

A lot of the imagery associated with him is pretty body horror-ie also a lot of manipulation of food

War: The Desolation

Honestly I feel like this one was the only one for the four horsemen where the war choice just doesn’t fit in my mind, like her being an avatar of the slaughter… nahhhh. The way she acts and tries to corrupt and start infighting on a individual level… like the whole scene in the show where she stop the peace treaty by just being there was very cult of the lightless flame of her… also she has red hair and fire imagery soooo (jk)

Humans

Agnes Nutter (also maybe just the entire device blood line tbh): The Web

Girl controls all of the device family via her predictions and knows how everything that’s gonna go down could maybe say the eye but the eye doesn’t predict the future also Agnes and Anathema are cunty enough to chill with Annabella I think

The them: The spiral??

Idk Adam has the ability to make reality bend the way he wants it and the rest of them are kids exploring their imagination maybe there’s something’s there about illusions also in the book ley lines start to spiral and converge in Tadfeild so boom whatever

Shadwell: The hunt

Bros been witch hunting his enitre life like

Nina: The Corruption

Unhealthy relationship whomp whomp

Maggie: The Burried

Idk maybe smth about feeling trapped with a record shop no one comes to and not enough money to find anywhere else to be that’s doesn’t really make sense tho cause she love the records shop and love Nina so I mean idk help

Demons

Crowley: The Eye

Honestly this was the post that inspired this while i do agree like woe is Crowley sad lonely demon, MF is so curious! Alway asking damned fool questions he just wants to know stuff so bad to the point of his own damnation like….

Hastur: The corruption

Bug (could also be avatar of the hunt)

Beelzebub: The corruption

Bug (that one’s lazy ik okay) I can see arguments for the slaughter (wanting for their to be a war or just in general being the over seer of torture) or the stranger( for like 2.5 second in season 2) but I will not be one to make those arguments (even though that’s whole point of this blog post)

Dagon: The desolation

Very bitey give me very big manipulator vibes waiting for mfs down fall (could also see them as an avatar of the hunt for the same reasons!!)

Shax (and furfur tbh): The Hunt

She got that dawg in her climbing the corporate ladder praying on bitches down fall very girlboss

Angels

Aziraphale: The lonely

Unironically the hardest one for me like idk I could maybe see the eye because of the bookshop but I think it’s less of like desire for information and more about the actually act of collecting and the enjoyment of reading for him like yes he still has a curiosity about and seeks information but idk it’s more restrained (then like Crowley) and limited to whatever humans got going on I think

Idk this is the one I’m the most wishy-washy about some one else could probably find smth better but I decided to go with the lonely cause he very much enjoys his solitude with his books, but then it’s also like no he has and loves Crowley! But At the same time tho there’s that whole mention in the book where he like hints at Crowley when to get the fuck out of the bookshop so he can go back to reading. Idk out of all the fears this is the only I think he would most likely to be an avatar to (also gotta keep up the lonely + the eye parings right lmaoo)

Metatron: The stranger

Bro is so secretive about everything and literally changes his mannerism when trying to get Aziraphale back to heaven, definitely could also see the web since he is “the voice of god” but I feel like that’s just another face he puts on and he has not been actually able to speak to good since like job or smth. I think he just has a general outline of how things are supposed to happen but what god actually has planned is well ineffable so

Gabriel (Honestly also applies to the other Archangels tbh): The Desolation

They want war, they want to end the world before it has the ability to see its full potential

Jim: The spiral

Because…

Muriel: The lonely

:(

(idk I need to seem some mentorship and Muriel becoming her own person in season 3 Kay bye)

Thanks for reading my ramblings if you got this far please feel feed to add your own opinions and ideas to this lmao

[skrillien]

☆ - how would their dynamic change if they weren't related? (for ot3s and more, just choose two of them. or if it's a pairing where one of the characters isn't related to the other 2+, how would the dynamic change if they were?) (for any of your pairings)

ohoho thank you <3 choosing waycest because, well... i mean, i'm tumblr user waycesticles.

honestly, if gerard and mikey weren't related? chaos. mikey is too Little Brother not to be related to gerard. if mikey didn't know gerard growing up he would not be mikey, because he got his whole personality from gerard (so infatuated). like a hand-me-down personality. minus his dry sense of humor and general bluntness- that is Mikeyway Charm.

but let's say they weren't brothers, maybe just childhood friends so mikey isn't literally a whole other person. gerard would be one of the older graders, but they sit next to each other on the bus, and gerard shows mikey his comics and they read them together. (even the ones with bad words!!) and as they grow older, they stay pretty good friends. by middle and high school, they totally hang out at lunch and on the rare occasion they have an elective class together. the kids in gerard's grade all kind of make fun of him anyway, so his best friend being a sixth grader or whatev wouldn't penalize him much. (let's pretend they go to like a k-12 or something so this works out lol) and mikey just thinks gerard is the coolest guy in the world, because he shows him all the cool Big Kid stuff and he's older and actually treats him like a person.

so i think the dynamic would be changed in a much more predatory way because there isn't that, like, baseline love and tenderness and trust that came with siblinghood (for them). gerard doesn't realize he's doing it, but he brings up a lot of stuff that just isn't appropriate at mikey's age, and mikey looks up to him and desperately wants his approval, and it would be the perfect storm for gerard to groom him- and maybe, when puberty hits... he takes advantage.

after high school who knows, maybe mikey stays in his trap- maybe he's grown too codependent, doesn't know how to separate the parts of himself that are him from the ones that are gerard. they're like those codependent couples you meet sometimes who talk the same way and think the same way and like the same things like their brains are connected and they just think all their thoughts at each other. but the dynamic would be much more harmful to mikey than it would be to gee, because gerard had more time to develop who he was as a person before he and mikey became so inseparable.

[yukkurriii]

I really don't get how im still alive

Sooo i had really low internet connection and no wifi for like 3 days. And the pool that I mentioned earlier, we played in it again.

I did some experiments. I tried making a bath bomb, a lava lamp, a soap and a perfume. Basically i had a lot of time and i was bored.

Some days later we went on another trip and i hated it SO much. We travelled in a train first. Now trains are cool. I like looking out of the window and listening to music.

But it was raining. Like a storm. I had the window seat and the window could not be closed completely. My left half was soaked in rainwater. It was so annoying.

We took a bus to our room after lunch. The food was good and this is really important because i couldn't have good food hereafter. Everyone rested. It was at least a 10 hour journey.

Next day was pure hell. All i managed to eat for breakfast were 2 vadas. And then we got on a jeep. It was a nice road for some distance. Then we entered a forest. A veeerrryy zig zagy road and im already uncomfortable.

After like 2 hours we reached off road. In a nutshell, somebody has trapped you in a jar and is violently shaking it as if you're inside a blender. We were hanging onto the ceiling bars of the jeep. It's a miracle i still have my arms. This ride lasted for 30mins. And i wanted to go back.

But we've got so far might as well see what the fuck is so important up there. Next the hiking started. A detail : you can barely see your hand in front of you because of the mist and it was raining cats and dogs. We had raincoats or else we would freeze to death :D

We climbed 10% of the way and my sister went back and i started throwing up. I too was offered to go back but i refused idekw. Then after every 10 steps i would barf a little and then continue walking. I wanted to cry and throw myself off the cliff so many times. It was a good thing i couldn't see anything down there.

At the top we took some photos and retreated immediately. The path was flowing with water and my shoe kept on collecting all of it. The first i did after reaching the room was pouring hot water on my legs. The lunch was so bad :( and i could not even eat dinner properly because i was still feeling nauseous.

We left early morning to the railway station and they did not even have their waiting rooms open. We waited on the platform for 2 hours. The ride back home was fine. And i ate some good food after coming back.

[rewritingtrauma]

World of Vampires

For those of us who are working on the healing of deep wounds, particularly those wounds from childhood and our formative years, we might find ourselves at times stupefied and devastated at how our seemingly solid present can be demolished utterly, and in a moment, by something minor, even something we wanted. For me, this week, that happened not because I was exposed to something bad but to someone genuinely good and nice. Unfortunatley for them, and for me, they are someone from the past whom my unconscious and nervous system connect with a world of trauma: A time in my life when I was utterly trapped, powerless, abused, neglected and rejected on multiple fronts - by my parents, my peers, and by the other would-be caregivers in my life (teachers, health professionals, neighbours, other family members).

Last night, the night after this person left our house, I had this dream that I was trapped in a world of vampires. The panic, the overwhelm, the desperation, and the fear were so real. It wasn't a dream, though it was a dream scenario, it was a lived memory (albeit with vampires). I woke this morning in a pool of sweat, fighting my way out of the bed but with this phrase in my head "When you are groomed for death, you live in a world of vampires".

When you grow up in trauma (and in our world today, that's most of us) we are primed to see danger everywhere. We are triggered by social media posts, the tone of someones voice, a poorly judged message from a friend, the sound of the kettle, the appearance of someone from the past, and all kinds of other everyday occurrences. The person who came to stay with us was not a vampire, but being from the past and specifically from what my traumatised unconscious interprets as a world of vampires, they brought with them the key to that world.

Until my current relationship my approach to dealing with this was to burn all bridges I.e. all routes and connections back to the past. A 100% scorched earth policy. I even remember once, I was walking up Grainger Street in Newcastle on my way to work when I saw someone walking towards me who I hadn't seen from school (almost 20 years previously). Before I had a moment to even think their name, my feet had turned 90 degrees and I was running to the other side of the street, narrowly avoiding an oncoming bus.

For better or worse, I am - geographically speaking - not far from my old world of vampires and my husband also came from that world - he has friends and family from it. So, unless I get super rich and can run away to another country (dream baby dream) i am stuck with this proximity to the past and to the spectre of vampires. So what can I do? How can I live (more, thrive) in the present whilst also navigating the destabilising influences of people from the past? I genuinely don't know or have an answer to this. So please, if you're reading and have some ideas - please comment below or DM me.

For now, though, I'm going to make myself a vampire invisibility cloak and plant some garlic cloves in the garden....

With love and solidarity,

Iris x

[pumpkinstep]

I'm just sad

I did a lot to change myself and improve. when I became homeless and free from my abusive family situation, I ended up in a group of guys who stayed at a youth shelter.

I told my bf, I'll call him B, what was up with me. I was desperate for connections and pandered a lot to get attention. I did a lot of attention seeking behavior but made it known I wasn't really serious or into them.

This guy stalked me a little bit, knew I was mentally and emotionally unstable and claimed me as family when I went on a tirade about how much I hate a commonly disliked asshole at the shelter.

it was obvious I wasn't in the right headspace to make clear rational decisions, I was crying all the time, visibly distressed, hardly eating and breaking down constantly. I told him I felt like I was stuck mentally at 16.

at the time I was still working, making 15hr and working full time. that's pretty good money

well he quit his job to try another one out and completely dropped the ball on it, so I helped him out. I gave him a weekly allowance and helped him get stuff he needed.

I even helped him get a place to stay, paying for his rent until I couldn't anymore. He let me stay sometimes and practically begged to hang out with me when I wasn't working.

then he freaks out one day because he thinks his long. distance gf dumped him and let's our friendship cross over more into the With benefits territory, (despite him adamantly claiming he would kill himself if he ever cheated. note that we've been hella handsy up to this point despite that.)

throughout our relationship, I've been shouldering all of the responsibility of keeping it running, always engaging in the things he likes, helping him out when he's distressed, cleaning and cleaning up after him. I did the chores and finances.

we started living together full time when covid hit and he had a job by that point and I didn't.

I felt trapped in the house and he kept me like a pet. only engaging with me when it was convient and making a big fuss about me going outside, (this was before lockdown.)

I genuinely feel like I've gotten more stupid by being around him for so long.

after a while I got fed up and stopped reaching out because he just doesn't meet me in the middle, he doesn't engage and he doesn't go out of his ways to do things outside of the bare minimum.

after I pulled away to give him space to step up on his own, he just never did and now there's hardly anything between us. I feel like I'm dragging him along and it sucks and it never feels like he's actually trying to improve.

he treats me like a mother figure and I hate it so much.

I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until I went through our discord to delete old messages cause I felt haunted by my cringey behavior. after reading through the old stuff, I realized he just sucks all the way around.

I confronted him on this and he confessed he was just using me back then and that he forgot.

I've been pretty upset about it since and even turned down a potential friendship because no one likes me unless I'm useful and I'm mad I let myself get so soft.

I'm disabled and no one can live alone in this economy so I'm forced to stay in a relationship with him. especially since he's made it very clear that he's the suicidal type when it comes to break ups.

it fucking sucks and I've pretty much closed myself off emotionally to new friendships or engaging with people in a serious way. the one time I open up and try to be a better person, someone stabs my squishy bits. how fucked up is that?

I don't love him. not anymore. and it angers me that he has the audacity to still say I love you and expects me to respond positively everyday.

he says he's trying to improve but then says he wants to spend time with me only to ignore me and get annoyed when I bother him.

I told him that I'm going to leave him the moment I can take care of myself if he doesn't get his shit together.

I know I shouldn't put too much blame on myself but I can't help but feel like I must have had brain damage to fall so low.

I guess I was blinded by my need for validation and shelter

[laura-apexart]

Day 16 7.23

I am supposed to meet Marthin at 9am and woke up early and left early but still managed to be late! But he reminds me not to rush–we take the TransMilenio to a bus–we are going about 2 hours outside of the city to Pena de Juaica (rock of Juaica) where he tells me there has been recordings of paranormal activity and we will go to a beautiful compound with fruit trees and a

Temazcal -A circular dome like structure stands low to the ground (once inside I learn it is a feminine structure, meant to symbolize/reproduce the feeling of being inside womb–I learn: If you are menstruating you cannot participate) -built with long thin malleable branches that are bent to form a dome like structure and are tied with twine -a dirt pit for hot rocks to be placed is in the center. It is covered with wool and felt blankets to trap heat and light. 

A Mexican sweat lodge or house of heat from mesoamerica pre-Hispanic indigenous cultures —for a cleansing ritual—aside from this description in my calendar  “A Temazcal is a ceremony steeped in Mexican heritage. It involves participants sitting in a traditional sweat lodge for health and therapeutic benefits. Ceremonies usually last for two or more hours and are typically led by a sort of spiritual leader called a shaman or Temazcalero,”  I don’t know much but Marthin preps me a bit on the bus ride up–

They have started heating the rocks at around 9am, and when we arrive around 11:45 everyone is drinking tea and sitting around the fire, relaxed and casual–and the Mexican couple who are leading the ceremony are prepping and I learn of all these Imaginary lines and rules for the ritual, first by entering the circle through the exit (wrong way!) where ashes from the fire have been laid–I am embarrassed and feel bad and disrespectful and like I am inattentive–but how can you see what you do not know to look for? Soon the feeling passes. Once inside the circle I decide to get some of the tea that everyone keeps going up to get in a very casual way, and so without asking what it was I go get some. Only after I had consumed it, did I realize it was Peyote–next time better to ask before doing what everyone else is doing.  Then, this time knowing, I ate some in paste form that was offered because it all felt like part of the experience–and I have had some previous experience with not Peyote but other plant medicine and psychedelics.

Before entering the space we all stand around the fire and silently set our intentions and then throw tobacco on fire where volcanic porous rocks are being heated 

When entering the lodge we say-”for all my family relations” 

Once inside and watching others enter, I noticed the women bowed to earth, men did not–I also did not–which again brought up feelings of being irreverent and ignorant and also like I rushed! But, I try to let go of the self-judgment (a fear that others are judging me–but no one is–I am judging myself).

South, east, North—ancestors, past, present, future, west —where sun sets and turns the color of menstrual blood  -where women bond and connect with each other and with Gia 

Where men get jealous that women have this monthly reminder to connect with their body and the earth —this ritual is a reminder. 

First drum beat and chant started crying what a release -emotional valve opening 

Small child is also inside crying and scared and then left and what if we as adults could have the same unfiltered emotional responses. At what point do we learn to hold this unfiltered fear or worry or whatever inside—This sweat ritual feels in part about extreme expelling and releasing and also connecting and grounding.

Door is open after each direction 

Hot rocks are placed in with antlers and offerings of different scents /tobacco or sage are offered then water is poured on top of the volcanic rocks and the door is shut and it is completely dark and more water is poured and some of the women within the circle say prayers and lead chants with drumming and all are encouraged to sing or hum along, which serves many physical as well as social purposes. 

When it gets too hot bow to earth -it is cooling and humbling 

Don’t breathe with mouth bc fire on someone in front of your back of neck 

Breath with nose. Hum or chant or sing along even if you do not know the words because it helps release oxygen and create circulation and breath. If you are not in need of healing let your strength heal others.

The prayers between each direction are translated for me by a young 23 year old German women who has already lived on 4 diff continents and left home at age 15 and is ready to move to Australia and have children because she has lived so many lives. 

After it is over I crawl out. My heart racing intensely and I find some grass to lay down in, under a tree, to cool and regulate. With eyes closed and heart racing,  I see a raccoon and later looked up its symbolism. Childlike, playful, resourceful and able to adapt and find creative solutions to spiritual issues–I am sure there are more meanings to uncover. 

Everyone is sharing and eating fruit which they have brought as an offering. 

We stay until sunset by the fire. It is tranquil and lovely. Ducks and dogs play with the three small children who belong to some of the couples who have participated in the ceremony. 

The leader of the ceremony tells me: “In order to communicate with the people you must learn the language.” I have been asking myself this question–can you truly immerse in another culture without knowing the language? It feels like there are many ways of communicating.