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sofs16 · 4 months

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let you break my heart again — 4

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♫ i miss you i’m sorry - gracie abrams

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lorenzotl, pierregasly, and 21,833 others

charles_leclerc Really happy to be part of the Ferrari Drivers Academy and be development driver for Scuderia Ferrari :) For you, (your initial).

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march 1, 2016

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, and 12,392 others charles_leclerc 🏆🏆YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!! GP3 CHAMPION !!!! A huge thanks to all ARTGP !!!!! WE DID IT !!! ❤️❤️ This one is for you Julio

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november 26, 2016

yn.yln.16 has gone public!

yn.yln.16

liked by kylie_yln, and 4,839 others

yn.yln.16 holy moly so proud of you big sister 🥹

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kylie_yln 🥹❤️

january 5, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by 13,484 others

charles_leclerc Dreams come true 💫

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january 15, 2017

yn.yln.16

liked by pascale_leclerc, and 7,292 others

yn.yln.16 REAL VOGUE GIRL!!!

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kylie_yln best vogue intern 🤩

february 8, 2017

yn.yln.16

liked by bellahadid, lorenzotl, and 12,942 others

yn.yln.16 made a best friend at work ❤️‍🩹

p.s new article is up in my blog 🫧

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bellahadid youre something special 🦋

user92 what do you write about? :)

⤷ yn.yln.16 sports and fashion 😚🤍

february 20, 2017

yn.yln.16

liked by 17,393 others

yn.yln.16 tonight’s football game article is up!!! view all 158 comments

march 4, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by zhouguanyu24, and 18,295 others

charles_leclerc Prema today ! Working to get back on the top step as soon as possible 🙂🏆

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april 26, 2017

yn.yln.16 posted a story!

caption: “me and the boys when we aren’t writing a 10 page essay ”

viewed by pascale_leclerc, bawsixteen, and 521,102 others

replies:

kylie_yln anyone cute? 😚

⤷ yn.yln.16 looollll no 😖

pascale_leclerc Stay safe, chérie ❤️

⤷ yn.yln.16 ouiii maman!!! see you soon:)

gigihadid

monaco gp

liked by charles_leclerc, and 8,368,560 others

gigihadid Go HAM lewishamilton!

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Maman 💇‍♀️

Charles, before you find out from anyone else, I am having lunch with Yn today.

Charles🤦‍♂️

What? Where?

How long will she be there?

Is she with you now? Maman?

yln.updated

liked by yn.yln.16, and 7,292 others

yln.updated yn out having lunch with her childhood neighbors! via. chefsmonaco: “Met yn.yln.16 this afternoon! Kindest soul who had lunch at our restaurant!” view all 1,684 others

yn.yln.16 chefsmonaco Loved the food, will surely come back! 🤍🥹

may 28, 2017

kylie_yln just posted a story!

caption: “little sis & me work time 🤪 yn.yln.16”

viewed by charles_leclerc, and 32,910,842 others

yn.yln.16

liked by kylie_yln, bellahadid, bawsixteen and 1,017,605 others

yn.yln.16 so so thankful to have written my first vogue article about my beautiful sister !!!! kylie.yln 🥹🤍

view all 232,923 comments

user82 notice how her first article is ab her sister.. talentless nepo babbyyy lol

⤷ yn.yln.16 yeah but hey, atleast im writing in vogue and not crying abt it in someone’s post 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ user1 GAGGEDDDD LOLL I LOVE HER ALR

lorenzotl So proud of both of you! ⤷ yn.yln.16 ❤️

may 11, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by kylie_yln, pierregasly, and 21,292 others

charles_leclerc POLEEE POSITIONNN 🏎️ 2 poles out of 2 Qualifyings. Thanks again prema_team for the great car. But tomorrow is the day that counts ! 👊🏻

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kkkwupdates what is kylie doin in his likes 😭

⤷ user27 theyre friends

may 12, 2017

BBC NEWS • SHORT STORIES

MEET YN YLN May 29, 2017

Yn Yln has been making her mark in the industry.

From detailed writing on fashion pieces to analyzing the newest models of F1 cars, Yn Yln is racing through the internet.

Yln told the BBC it was her bursting of emotions that first got her to write.

Her love of fashion was what started her journey. She put up her first blog up in 2010 titled “Layering”. Yln showcased several ways to style for the winter which skyrocketed her blog.

She then wrote about the racing sport. Yln mentioned a friend of hers raced and that is where her writing started to flourish.

“He just got me really interested in the sport that I couldn’t go a week without writing whether Hamilton got a win or modifications had been made to the sport.”

The writer got her first issue in Vogue out this May 11th. The issue was about her sister, Kylie Yln, and her entrepreneurship.

But while she has achieved much beyond her years, Yln has much more ahead of her. She continues to help the writing industry advance and flourish.

F1 2018: Charles Leclerc confirmed at Sauber

Kylie Yln launches new collection

yn.yln.16

liked by bellahadid, lewishamilton, voguemagazine, kylie.yln, pascale_leclerc, lorenzotl, bawsixteen, and 3,594,192 others

yn.yln.16 you're looking at the new f1 correspondent and presenter 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 tears 😭😭😭😭😭 screaming

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lewishamilton Welcome to the club!🖤

⤷ yn.yln.16 Thank you so much🥹🥹🏎️

kylie.yln Proudest of you

[liked by yn.yln.16]

lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️

pascale_leclerc 😍❤️

user1 what will you do? ⤷ yn.yln.16 writer some articles and present with sky tv 🍓

november 28, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by kylie_yln, and 1,812,292 others

charles_leclerc I remember watching Formula 1 being younger and dreaming of one day being part of it. I can't believe this day has arrived and that I will be racing with Alfa Romeo Sauber F1 Team for the 2018 Formula 1 World Championship. I am hugely thankful to all the people who have been involved in my path to Formula 1.

A special thought to my father that did absolutly everthing for me to get there and to Jules that also helped me massively, I wish you two were here to see that but l'm sure you will follow me from up there.

A special thank you to the Ferrari Drivers Academy/Scuderia Ferrari, my sponsors/partners, Nicolas Todt/All Road Management, my family, all the people close to me during all these years & obviously Alfa Romeo Sauber F1 Team for giving me this opportunity.

Also, a special thank you to (your initial). This is also for you and I’m proud of you.🤍

Still a long way to go to my second dream..! So back to work and see vou in Melbourne 🏎️

december 3, 2017

Charles Leclerc explains reasons behind #16 F1 number choice

december 13, 2017

Since he was young, Leclerc has been dreamt of his future in being an F1 driver, as well as his future number.

The 20 year old driver explains it has always been the number he was going to pick.

“There is too much emotional connection for me to not pick this number. I hold this number deep in my heart and the person who helped me achieve everything, is mainly the reason. I hope to do the number well and give it justice.”

He has yet to specify who he is talking about but fans would guess a close friend. READ MORE…

16spriv

liked by kyliexoxo, bells888 and 47 others

16spriv

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bells888 the no caption is so real

⤷16spriv STOPPP ITS MY NUMBER. NOW I HAVE TO CHANGE MYUSERNAME. goodbye yn.yln.16.

kyliexoxo deeeep breaths sister

⤷ 16spriv 🧘‍♀️

yn.yln

liked by bellahadid, lorenzotl, and 4,217,282 others

yn.yln bffr. time to work

view all 1,282,955 comments

user2 why is she famous again?

⤷ yn.yln am i even famous

⤷user2 😂

⤷ user3 she’s a talented writer and her sister is $$$

ylnsbabe the 16 in her user is gone????

⤷ f1wags holymoly

february 13, 2018

MARCH 25, 2018

it was nerve shaking for both yn and charles to come into the paddock knowing the other would be there but they both walked in with confidence.

with charles in his rookie season, many interviewers were trying to get his input on it. he searched the faces for that one (y/h/c) but proceeded to answer questions while walking.

as he started to leave the group, he had the urge to turn around. and when he did, he was met with those (y/e/c) and nostalgia.

the interviewers started to disperse, getting in his line of vision for a moment before they were focues on her.

this was his second shot and he was not going to waste it.

TAGLIST @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg @cmleitora @annie115 @valntynebaby @mrosales16 @d3kstar @stopeatread @chimchimjiminie16 @viennakarma @peqch-pie @scaramou @daniellarogers

NOTE sorry it took so long to upload:( hope everyone has a good year!! this took me a while and a lot of things aren’t accurate, such as the job description, but its fictional!!

#charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #formula 1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #social media au #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 5 months

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Yandere Brother Pt 3

Tw: suffocating unbearable love, violence, general yandere, female reader shenanigans, infantilization, and of course incest. also christmas

minors and ageless blogs dni please <3

click here for part 1 and part 2

Click here for my new oc Yves (PLEASE READ IT I LOVE YVES)

plotholes and emglish errors everywhere and i could not be bothered :100emoji: please dont point it out thanks xoxo

Caught the Covid fuk now i cant leave my bed im so damn sick and pukey all the time, i dont fuckin know where my roommate is but at least they're not here to get infected, feeling like a busted up rustbucket rn

So this was originally written last year, couldnt find what else to write but this christmas time is perfect, so like dont mind the shoehorning of Christmas somewhere in this fic

You're having your summer break and you plan to pick up on a new hobby. Crocheting, perhaps.

Fuck, your brother picked up your search history from his spyware. Now you're left to deal with $1000 worth of wonderful quality crocheting materials and your big brother being your personal crocheting mentor.

This is where it gets frustrating. Yes, if you have the resources, you would enjoy your hobbies more. But, just like... What if you didn't like crocheting in the end? You're stuck with all these.

It happens to every single potential hobby. Stamp collecting? Your big brother will bid to the death for an extremely rare stamp from the 1900. You're not even fucking collecting the stamps, the stamp book already comes arranged with all the stamps ever produced. A collection that would only give a hardcore stamp collector an instant orgasm upon sniffing it.

Nail art? Where the hell should you keep all the acrylic powders, fake nails, drills and drill bits? Not to mention the dizzying numbers of nail polishes, nail brushes, nail stickers and cuticle sticks. Of course, your big brother is going to hire a professional nail artist to make sure you're practicing your hobby safely while he's learning how to do it himself, so he could replace your mentor too. He would become so skilled that he could qualify to open up a 5 star nail salon. But he's not interested unless you are.

Painting? you absolutely do NOT need all of those tubes of paint. The difference in shades for some of them are so small that you mistook it for the same colour. You would have a headache choosing the right type of paper, right type of primer and right type of fixative to use.

Are you having troubles on painting? Let big brother teach you. You would sit on his lap as he guide your hands across the canvas. Don't you think his warm hand enveloping yours feel nice? Doesn't his free hand feels nice sensually rubbing your thigh? Don't you just feel protected in his hold?

Makeup? Same situation with your nail hobby. You're essentially being babied by him and experienced celebrity makeup artists, you would drown in a mountain of eyeshadow palettes, primers, setting sprays, skin care products, anything and everything related to makeup.

Every instrument ever? Big brother would insist lovingly providing all the music lessons you need. He is a musical prodigy after all. If it's something ridiculously obscure like a Glass Armonica or the Theremin, big brother would master it in a couple of weeks, earn a fucking pHD in it and THEN teach you. No instrument is too expensive or hard for him. Your big brother is crossing his fingers HARD for you to have this hobby.

Chess? Oh, he is also a prodigy in it. He could teach you. Your chess pieces would be custom made to your liking, by the way. It would be the perfect density, perfect size, perfect texture for you. He knows what you like and you hate that.

Sports? Take a look at his "achievement room". It's filled to the brim with golden medals and trophies of every sport competition ever. He's not leaving you alone for this one.

Pottery? Welcome to your very own personal pottery studio, furnished with all types of drying racks, ovens, kilns, turntables and equipments you have never heard of. Big brother is always there to supervise you, making sure there won't be any accidents.

Cooking and baking? You get to have an industrial sized kitchen all for yourself. Everything is decorated such that it looks like you would be on television, starring in a cooking show. You don't need to clean anything, or prep anything, or actually do anything, really. There's a team of professional chefs and assistants to do everything for you. They're paid to cheer and clap and celebrate when you pour cake batter into a pan.

Gardening? Well, there's a massive plot of fertile land for you to garden to your heart's content at the house he bought as your 18th birthday gift. If you want a big project, it will be done overnight. You wouldn't hear the gigantic machineries and vehicles tumbling about due to the soundproof walls he installed. No one would be able to hear you both either, doing god-knows-what inside.

Video games? Your big brother personally do not encourage you to pursue this. But... Nonetheless, he would spoil you rotten with all the latest gaming consoles, limited edition merchandises, pre release copies of your favorite game franchises and whatever your gamer heart desires. All at a hefty price of... Daily cuddles and kisses. And you also have to move in with him. And he gets to decide what game you're playing, if he deems it a "bad influence"? It is not staying in his house.

You rather not.

Nothing is fun because the fun parts are already done for you. You don't get to experience the highs and lows of picking up a hobby, you don't get to explore and experiment. You're literally cursed with luxury.

So imagine your boredom, stress and paranoia during summer break. All your friends are spies for your brother, your hobbies aren't even "yours", leaving your house would inevitably lead you to your brother and all digital footprints are heavily scrutinized by him too. No privacy, no autonomy, all monotony.

You juggled three smartphones at once. Throwing one up in the air, catching the other one with your dominant hand, throwing the last to your other hand. Who gives a damn if one, or all of them breaks? It's riddled with spyware and your big brother would buy you every time a new model is released anyways. Which is... A new phone, a month?

You stopped caring where he gets the money. Obviously he has an assload and can afford to wipe his ass with thousand dollar bills regularly.

It's summer break. One last resort to try and spend your time like a regular ol teenager is taking up a part time summer job. There is a wide variety of jobs to choose from with your qualification. Granted, it's minimum wage and mostly customer service.

If you work as a barista, the cafe or juice bar you'll be working at will LOVE the crap out of you.

Your older brother will visit daily and increase their sales tenfold. Of course, he would pick the drinks that you like doing. It's okay if you fucked up, its only your beloved big brother's order, you can add as much sugar, salt, pepper, cyanide as you want. He will never yell at you, never tell you that you made anything wrong or never even die.

The management will suddenly see a surge in daily customer count. Thanks to big brother's networking. And like him, they also will accept anything you make with no complaint... As per his instructions. You could go full on ridiculous and give them a cup of ice drizzled with strawberry scented dish soap and call it Tutti Frutti, they would still pay for it and take it with them. Though, you're not sure if they ever consumed anything from you.

Without fail, your brother would visit you during every break and hand you your meal along with a kiss on the forehead or the cheek. He would bring you out to eat but you would refuse everytime. You also didn't want his company, which made him pout and whine without fail. But it's nice that he would actually back off after the sixth "no".

However, you know that fucker is watching you from a hidden camera somewhere in the nooks and crannies of whatever breakroom you're resting in.

He would engulf you in a big hug when you get off work, telling you how proud he is of you for getting through another workday like a champ. Praising you for all the hard work and excellent performance, making sure to soothe and comfort you if you happen to come across a rude customer earlier in the day.

You try not to think too much about their fate.

You will be fed, bathed and loved after every shift.

Hell, he would even build up a company from scratch just to hire you. Any position you want, barista, manager, cashier, back office work, janitor- you name it, you get the "job" and get paid a pretty penny. All your other coworkers and customers are probably paid actors and actresses to simulate a "real life working experience" safely. He controls it all, making sure you have just the right amount of drama, the right amount of diplomacy and the right amount of gossiping. You're rarely pushed out of your comfort zone, though. Big brother always has your safety and best interests at heart.

Of course, he will never tell you all of this, to keep the immersion going. You're going to feel sad that you're not exactly experiencing reality. But a bastardization of it. Might as well star in a trashy reality TV show instead, at least, it's much more authentic than whatever your big brother has going on for you.

He doesn't need to even tell you though. You would pick it up easily and quickly especially if you already watched the Truman Show. Don't tell him you did, god help you if he ever gets an inkling that you knew about the existence of the Truman Show. He deemed that movie as demonic propaganda and he needs to lecture some sense into you. If you want out, just say that you're 'bored' and want to do something else. Your big brother will gladly drop everything and do anything in his power to help you "achieve" what you want.

But for the sake of "plot" in this latest installment, you agreed to work in a quaint little bubble tea stall. Where you're the only employee, making drinks for whoever is ordering in front of the shop's decorated window.

Of course, your big brother miraculously happens to work in a nearby skyscraper as one does. It's not that you didn't do your research, you were a hundred percent certain he didn't work in that building, because that fucker never goes to work... At least, physically. Perhaps he does his job, whatever that may be, through online means.

You were planning to use your bicycle to get there that you got yourself with "your" money. He never bought you a car or a bike or anything that would get you around, he saw it as something unnecessary. Why would you need it when big brother is available 24/7 to bring you anywhere?

Actually, you could have gotten yourself a car with the allowance he gives you every day for being cute and adorable, and being patient with his incessant kisses and hugs and cuddles and love and touches and his fucking insanity in general.

But you know that he's going to kick up a massive fuss about driving alone. It was hell to even get your license with him actively trying to sabotage you at every exam- which includes him stooping so low to bribe the examiner to fail you. However, you persevered, and you got that stupid license. All the while, he was lamenting about how you're going to leave him all alone, how you don't need big brother anymore, how society pressured you to grow up too fast and recklessly drive off wherever.

You knew better than to fall for that. Or even entertain it either. Eventually, he gave up trying to guilt trip you into crying, apologizing to him and sobbing in his arms, promising that you won't leave him.

It's not like he DIDN'T kick up a fuss when you said you're using a bicycle either. He began freaking out about your safety, fearing that you might get run over.

Well. You admitted defeat. He's driving you to fucking work and back. It's not worth it to fight this battle.

So you began working in the stall. You had someone train you for your first 2 weeks. Then you were on your own.

The owner, who is also the person who showed you the ropes around there, said business isn't good, but it isn't bad either. So you didn't need to worry about rush hour where hoards of thirsty, sleep deprived office workers trample over each other to get their daily boba fix. It's pretty peaceful working there.

But what you do need to worry about, is your fucking big brother.

He would come and buy a drink, whichever you like to make. It can be the most expensive one, or the cheapest one, the most elaborate one or the simplest one. It's up to you, he will pay for it and happily drink what you made.

You could make him pay for the most expensive drink there is but serve him a cup of lukewarm water, and he would still drink it with glee and fork over his money, telling you to keep the change (which is usually a hundred bucks extra).

Let's say you want to be decent and make him drink that you know he would actually like. Which is anything that tastes generally fruity. And insist that you like making it even though it actually sucks.

He knows. He can tell that you're specially making his favourite drink. And that makes him happy and more obsessed with you if that's even possible at this point.

He would leave a massive tip and a kiss on your forehead.

Although your brother is fucking gross and weird like that, you still love him. Probably a bad idea but you're working so hard, trying your best to earn money honestly just to get him a Christmas gift.

Despite the restraining order between your parents and him, your brother is still invited back home each year to be jolly together. Preparations start a few days before Christmas, where you would see an unusual sight.

All of your immediate family members in the same room, or at least in the same house together without fighting to the death. Your dad's bones are intact, your mom didn't have her insecurities jabbed on for once. They're not exactly on speaking terms, per se.

You woke up one morning to see an... appropriate sized tree for your parent's house, erected in the middle of the living room. Adorned with beautiful ornaments and... are those pictures of you on the ornaments?

Wrapped presents were patiently sitting under the tree. There was a small box with your father's name on its tag, another small one with your mother's name on it. A decent sized box was addressed to your brother, must be a combined present from your parents.

Your shoulders sagged in defeat when you saw your presents took up the perimeter of the tree and even conquered the couch, the back of the couch and under the coffee table. You lost count after gift box #27.

Since everyone is in the kitchen, you quickly place the presents you got for your parents... and your brother.

You panned to the fireplace. Your Christmas stocking is filled so much to the brim that your brother must have added 5 more next to your original one. Your parents' and your brother's stockings are relatively empty. You stuffed them with candies and nuts to make them look less embarrassing.

You straightened your back, that should do it. Your ears perked up when you heard some clamoring in the kitchen. It must be your brother.

You let out a surprised yelp when you're yanked back by a pair of arms that snuck around your waist. "Merry Christmas, my little wittle precious baby!" You squeezed your eyes shut and scrunched your face as he attacked you with a barrage of kisses.

He giggled and squealed as he held you in his arms and twirled you around in glee. You let out a scream of horror as your feet dangle off the ground. He does this every Christmas morning when you were a child to wake you up further and get you excited for the holiday. But you're not a kid anymore, and this is horrifying.

Finally, he stopped and put you down. Your hair is frazzled and the world around you is gyrating. He squeezed you in another hug and gently rocked you side to side.

He immediately unlatched when you said you're hungry. Your big brother gleefully lead you to the dining table, where he fixes up a napkin around your neck like a bib. You asked him why is he tying a ribbon on your hair, he said that you are his Christmas present and he is spoiling himself this year.

Before you could respond, he gave you a brief peck on the head before frolicking away into the kitchen.

Your parents came out of the kitchen, greeting you. They're holding a tray full of steaming hot breakfast foods, no doubt your brother forced them to make it for you. Every Christmas generated a metric ton of leftovers. It's because your brother wanted you to try all of the foods from all over the world. But don't worry though, the leftovers could be so intact that it was given out to neighbors and friends and extended families. Some didn't even need to cook after that, the sheer amount of leftovers was enough to fuel ten more Christmas gatherings.

Croissants, quiches, various types of bread, eggs, ham, bacon even panettone made from scratch. Looking at the spread in front of you is dizzying, your big brother sets down the last plate right between your hands. It's a breakfast plate your brother customized to fit your usual preference, everything is shaped into a heart. He patted your head as he took a seat next to you.

Everyone ate in silence. Everyone was focusing on their own meal except... your brother. Who else would rather stare at you adoringly instead?

He asked if you wanted to go make snowmen outside. Not without proper winter protection, that is. You shrugged, it's not like you could escape your family anyway. Your friends are all busy with their own families, and you don't even have friends. Everything is closed and if you lock yourself in your room, your brother will just pick the fucking lock and force his way in.

Your parents tried making small talk, this earned a feral glare from your brother because it interrupted the connection between the both of you. They paid him no mind and began asking about your life. You tiredly replied to their questions and asked some back yourself, to try to find any sense of normalcy. Your brother would be disengaged with the words coming out of your parents mouth, but highly interested in what you had to say.

The rest of the morning went by uneventfully. You offered to help clear the table and do the dishes. Your brother just 'aww'd at you and gave you an appreciative kiss on your forehead. That wasn't an explicit yes, he appreciated the gesture, but he wouldn't allow you to dirty your hands doing chores.

He told you to wait for him to clean up. In the mean time, he gave you permission to open some of the gifts he got you. Frankly, you don't even want to deal with it at all, it's just too much crap. You decided to go through the stockings instead and grab some snacks for yourself.

As expected, he filled it with the most expensive treats and the freshest oranges. These types of foods are usually served in a formal setting, like eating gold crusted caviar at a 10 star restaurant, all dressed up in fancy clothes. But he just... shoved it in a Christmas stocking as if they're mundane chocolates.

Whatever, you shoved some into your pockets.

You turned around to see your brother smiling lovingly at you. He wrapped a puffer jacket around you, his scarf with his cologne on it, a pair of thick mittens on your hands , a winter hat snuggly fitted to your head, and a pair of thick pants he made you wear in front of him.

He picked one of your numerous christmas presents and handed it to you. He clasped his hands together expectedly as he watches you.

Your brother urged you to open it, go wild. Rip the wrapping to shreds. You felt so bad seeing how well wrapped it is and the quality of the wrapping paper is... indescribably good. It doesn't even feel like paper, it feels like silk.

So your carefully dismantled it, trying not to tear anything. You look up to see that your brother is pointing his camera at you, capturing this very precious moment. He encouraged you to go on.

You managed to remove the packaging and revealed a box of expensive winter boots. These are high quality and you would have been the source of envy even though most of your "friends" are also from wealthy families. Not everyone gets to have these.

You appreciate it but... You already had a pair of winter boots, the ones from last year, and the year before that. And the year before that, and a week ago where your brother is freaking out about you potentially having frostbite on your toes.

"It's the latest model! It was released as a part of a Christmas special, it will keep you warm and protect your feet too. It was selling out fast, I'm so glad I managed to get a pair for you, I can't have my sweetiepie sad on Christmas day!" Gushed your brother. You slipped them on.

You can't tell the difference between the one you had last year and the one on your feet now. Maybe some minor difference in it's stylistic design but... they're equally as comfortable.

You thanked your brother and finally gave him what he actually wanted from all this: a hug. He put away his phone and returned the embrace, sinking so deep into your jacket that neither of you can move without stumbling. You know he expected you to show gratitude for all his gifts through his main love language; touch.

It is exhausting.

After that, he brought you out to his private plot of land which he made into a park, complete with swingsets, monkey bars and slides. But these aren't for the public, it's for you. All the equipment are well maintained and look brand new even though you know it's been there for years.

He's not fond of throwing snowballs because it could hurt you. But he allows you to throw as much as you want at him. Even after the stunt you pulled last year.

You packed snow around a rock and hurled at him with all your might, it went straight to his head and his right eye was busted for months. Your brother didn't see that as something wrong, though. Even if you tried to apologize, he said that it was an accident and it was alright, he still loves you dearly and you did 'nothing wrong'. The first thing he did after recovering from his injuries at the hospital is to take you out for hot chocolate and then give you a backrub back home because winter could make your muscles stiff; and hence you must feel strained and sore.

He was still mildly bleeding from his gauze at the time, it was covering at least 70% of his upper head. Your brother was clueless when you asked if he needs any painkiller for his recent injury. He claimed to not feel the pain, but his wincing tells you otherwise. He rewarded you for your concern nonetheless with hugs and kisses and another massage.

You laid yourself on the snowy ground and started making snow angels. Your brother had his camera out and began capturing every moment he has with you.

You felt uncomfortable. And the cold is nipping at your bones even though you're thoroughly insulated by the sophisticated winter gear your brother made you wear. You're ready to go home now.

It shocked your brother and made him a bit desperate. He stammered and stumbled over his words, asking you if you wanted to play on the swing, build a snow man, play on the slides, the merry go around and... throw snowballs at him. Are you cold? He was in the middle of removing his own jacket to layer it onto you, but you stopped him.

You said you're tired. You don't find this fun and you're too old for this.

Maybe you're thirsty? He packed a flask filed with steaming hot chocolate for you- no? You're not thirsty or hungry? Maybe you wanted to use the bathroom-- no? You don't have to go?

He tried listing out all the possible reasons you wanted to go home and all its' solutions. Desperately wanting you to stop growing up so fast.

You got sick and tired of this, you yelled at him at the top of your lungs that you wanted to go home. You then stormed away towards the car, leaving your brother to stand there in silence, his camera capturing your explosive outburst.

Your brother saw you slamming the door angrily as you got in.

He sighed, gulping and hovering his finger over the delete button. But he ultimately decided against erasing the footage, it's still a video of you after all. Your brother assured that he's coming to the car, he wipes a stray tear away as he heads to his vehicle.

The both of you stayed silent as he drove you home.

Once you arrived, you bolted out of the car and ran back in. Locking yourself in the bedroom and barricading the door with random furniture. Hugging your knees close to your chest as you pray that your brother does not go after you by climbing into your windows.

And... he didn't. He left you alone for once. For a few hours too. It gave you the much needed relief, you felt like you could breathe now.

You're starting to feel a bit hungry. And you're hungry enough to be willing to face your older brother. So you began unbarricading, placing your dressers to it's original place.

You carefully unlocked the door, fully expecting him to be waiting outside for you. To your surprise, no one was in the hallway. You could hear some noises downstairs, in the kitchen.

You cautiously went down, the tree is still intact. Nothing is broken and there doesn't seem to be signs of a fight. You released a breath that you didn't know that you were holding, happy to know that you don't need to spend another Christmas at the hospital visiting your badly battered parents.

You whipped your head to the sound of your brother calling your name softly. He's holding a baking tray and a bowl, you can't tell what is in there because he's too tall. He smiled at you as he set it down on the dining table. The tray contained freshly baked parts of a gingerbread house and the bowl contained vanilla frosting.

You scanned the rest of the table. There are numerous small glass bowls containing different types of candy and snacks; from pretzel sticks to colourful chocolate rocks, to real gold leaves. Piping bags with metal tips are present too next to a box of plastic gloves.

Your brother pulled your chair out and invited you to sit there. You did, and he called you a good girl. His good girl. As you put on a pair of plastic gloves, he kissed you on the temple.

You asked where your parents are. He said that they're preparing the food for dinner, which includes ham and a roast turkey. And 15 other dishes.

You quizzed on, asking if there will be more people coming in. He shook his head: no. It's only the four of you. In the meantime, you should enjoy yourself building this gingerbread house. He puts on his own pair of plastic gloves too and began filling the piping bag with icing.

The two of you worked in peace, you opting to decorate the house while he pipes the details on the gingerbread men.

There is only two, a large one and a smaller one. You can guess which represents who.

You noticed the odd choice of attaching the small one to the large one's torso. With strategic use of the candies and frosting, he made it look like the larger gingerbread man is carrying the smaller one on its hip. He piped your defining features onto the baby gingerbread, and piped his features on the larger one.

He noticed you staring, your brother asked if you had a hard time connecting the pieces with frosting and if you needed his help. You said no, you just need a spatula from the kitchen. He tried to get up from his seat, but you pushed him back down, saying that you can get it yourself. He pouted, telling you to be careful and not touch the knives or stoves. Your brother went back to obsessing over the details on his gingerbread men.

You went inside the kitchen and greeted your parents who are busy cooking. You go through the drawers to find a silicone spatula and decided to help pick up some stray food scraps on the floor, throwing them into the bin. But as soon as you step on the pedal and have the lid swing open, you saw two crushed, but perfectly edible, gingerbread men in the garbage bin.

You returned to the dining table to see that your big brother is proudly presenting his work. He said this represents you and him... as if you already haven't figured it out. He said he dreams of having you live with him in a perfect fantasy house, fantasy world where you never have to grow up. And he will always be there by your side, taking care of you till the end of time. You will be pampered and spoiled rotten, you don't have to do anything, you don't have to lift a finger. Your big brother will do everything for you. He would even breathe for you if he could.

You nodded in acknowledgement, too tired to engage with him. You sat back down, continued with the gingerbread house. You failed to notice the flicker of sadness in his eyes, your brother felt so neglected and unwanted these few years. He wished that you were a kid again so the both of you could play together and be happy. The more he tries to win your favour, the more distant you get from him. He is endlessly chasing and you are running non-stop.

The rest of the afternoon went by uneventfully, other than the fact that your big brother rests his head on your shoulder the whole time.

Now, it's time for dinner. You tried helping them bring out the dishes, your brother praised you for being a darling as usual. He lets you have the first bite of the turkey, tearing a small inconspicuous piece of flesh from the bird and hand feeding it to you. It's still warm, juicy and delicious. Maybe it's the feeling of being special that makes it even tastier.

You chew as you brought out the casserole, setting it down on the table.

You looked at the spread. It looks like a buffet at a high end hotel. So many varieties and extremely nutritious.

Your brother fixed your napkin bib for you again and took food for you. Slumping in your seat, you were thinking of protesting but you knew it's easier to just wait for him to carve the best parts of the turkey for you and let the food pile up neatly on your plate first. He returned it to you, all your favourite dishes are on it within sensible portions. But these are still a lot of food for a person.

He didn't care about praying. Your brother wanted you to eat as soon as possible because you must be hungry. And it is absolute sacrilege to let you go hungry.

You insisted that you join your parents in saying grace and you're not that hungry. Your brother looks uncomfortable, still believing in his sick mind that you're starving to the point of emaciation. But since you are adamant in doing such 'pointless' things In his mind, he agrees, only if he leads it.

Everyone bowed their head down and held each others' hands.

Your brother said the shortest, most insincere, laziest grace ever. Once he fulfilled your requirement, he urged you to eat.

You're upset, you felt really angry and you thought he was mocking you instead. So you opted to eat alone in your room, you made it clear that you didn't want anyone in. Especially not your big brother.

He cried out a desperate plea to get you to stay with him. You ignored him and took a couple more of your favourite finger foods. Predicting a fight between your brother and your parents.

You wrenched your arm away from his powerful grip and fled the scene, hurrying up the flight of stairs. Only slowing down when you're out of sight.

As you thought, sounds of verbal fighting started resonating throughout the house. You heard your brother screaming his head off at your parents for being bad influences and poisoning you to hate him. Your parents defended themselves and this only fuelled the fire. You didn't want to be around when your brother started hurling chairs, so you slammed the door as hard as you could. The sudden loud noise did stop the commotion downstairs briefly. But it continued soon after.

You ate alone, in your barricaded room. Wishing that you're born into a 'normal' family, with 'normal' trauma. To a lot of people, you are complaining about a blessing. But you are always feeling alone, the only person facing a problem which everyone sees as a solution.

You scraped the last bits of food with your spoon. Waiting for the sounds of the ambulance or at least for the fighting to quiet down.

You looked at the clock. It's 1 AM. It's been relatively quiet for a while now, they should be finishing up their fight or cleaning up. Time for you to return your plate.

You grunted as you pushed the furniture away from your door which felt like the umpteenth time. You left your room and head downstairs.

Hearing soft sobs from one person, your brother. He's sitting in front of the tree, hugging the present you left for him earlier. The presents addressed to your parents are both missing, presumably being taken back to their room. A blanket is loosely draped around his shoulders.

You took slow steps, unsure if you should comfort him or not. But before you can even decide to chicken out, he spotted you. However, to your surprise, he didn't approach you or tell you to come forward. He gave you a soft assuring smile, before returning his attention to the tree.

You set your plate aside and went by his side. Your brother watched you with puffy eyes full of love, yet it tells you that he has been irreparably hurt by something... or an accumulation of things.

"Thank you..." He whispered, refering to the gift you gave him. It isn't something particularly valuable to you. It's a picture of the entire family in a photo frame. Your brother is going to cherish it, because it is a gift from the person he loves most in the world. But deep down, he secretly wishes that it was a photo of you and him alone.

He still looks extremely upset and distraught. Almost like he is at the brink of a breakdown. Your brother usually verbalizes what he wanted, but he couldn't this time.

You wonder what your parents got for him. You peeked over his shoulder to see that an unopened box containing a plain T-shirt and a pair of socks is carelessly discarded to the corner of the room.

Then, it clicked. Just like you, he felt alone. Maybe you will never understand why he holds you so dear in his heart. Just like how no one will understand him either, his struggles are unique to him with no one to relate.

He destroyed the relationship between himself and your parents. His friends are all superficial. You're grown up and constantly rejecting his love.

Not a single one of you paid attention to him. Yes, it is hard to think of a present for someone who has everything. But they could have put in a bit more effort, the colour of the shirt and socks aren't even in his favourite colour or in the correct size. You could have removed your parents from the photo, your brother will never remove it himself. Because that would mean defacing your gift for him.

And growing up, your parents never saw him as... a person. As someone with feelings and a personality. They only saw his value as a trophy piece to show off to their friends and family. Same goes to his friends now, if it wasn't for his skills and possessions, he would be nothing to anyone.

He had to beg to be loved. Even that isn't reliable, he could give it his all and everyone around him will expect more. Your brother could never dream of being the receiving end of his own affection. It seems like an impossibility to him.

Perhaps he is doing all of these despite getting nothing but disgust and disdain from you is all to protect your innocence, to not put you through what he had to face. It's just that he went about it the wrong way. Or maybe he is just... wrong in the head. Or maybe he was hoping by loving you so much, you would give him the intense type of love he was yearning for his entire life.

Either way, he is alone.

The both of you are now seated in front of the fireplace. You didn't want to open presents, your brother is okay with that. He did not nag you to do it for once. Snuggling closer, the both of you shared a blanket. He still looks unhappy and crestfallen.

You remember you still had the ribbon bow on your head.

He hovered his arms around you as you squirm in his grip. You managed to crawl into his lap and rest your head on his chest. He lets out a chuckle and some sniffles, clamping his arms back down around you.

You reminded him of one last gift. Your brother is confused until he saw your ribbon.

From that moment on, he burst into tears of joy. He found you so unbearably adorable, so unbearably cute that his heart couldn't take it. An excited squeak escaped his lips as he held you even tighter. Peppering kisses all over your face, neck and head.

He started blabbering in baby talk, calling you every pet name and listing out everything he loved about his 'gift'. Repeating that this is the best gift he ever received and this is all he ever wanted. You are all he ever wanted. Praising that you remembered what he loves.

You hope that he could feel a little less lonely tonight. You can't peer into his head and know exactly what is going on inside. But you knew, he was happy.

Your breathing calmed him down and he closed his eyes, nuzzling against your neck. The collar of your shirt wet from his tears and your arms are secure around him. Your brother mumbled "I love you." as he adjusted you on his lap. Pressing your form against his, enjoying the heat that the both of you shared. Wishing that this moment will never end and you will never part from him.

You realized another thing too as he strokes your hair.

Your older brother is the only person in the world who harbors true, undying, unconditional love for you.

Even though he has his flaws, there will be no one else like him. Ever.

So you closed your eyes and melt into him. Just like before, you felt safe.

The both of you fell alseep in front of the hearth, surrounded by gifts, mostly unopened ones. Snowflakes floating down from the skies and landing delicately at the edge of the roof. Feeling unburdened and content in the living room.

Merry Christmas.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #tw infantilization #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere concept #male yandere oc x reader #yandere brother #tw incest

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thesherrinfordfacility · 9 months

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the s2 endgame

an incredibly long post that i will not apologise for but does contain multiple frames of michael sheens face, so-

the first beat, for me, that truly leads up to the kiss is when aziraphale says to crowley, "i don't think you understand what im offering you." because whilst im sure in part aziraphale was referring to the offer of restoration and - as he perceived it - what it meant for crowley (and that's what crowley denied with "i understand. i think i understand a whole lot better than you do."), i think aziraphale truly meant that crowley didn't understand what the restoration could give them. to restore crowley meant that aziraphale could give all of himself to crowley, with no fear of reprisal or comeuppance like they've had to suffer for their entire existence; "pretending that we aren't".

it meant that they could be safe, together, as two angels, and not on opposite sides in the eyes of heaven. they could work together to make things better, but they would be together. crowley was completely justified in refusing the offer, based on his own trauma and pain that heaven unforgivably dealt to him, but aziraphale wasn't necessarily asking crowley to forget or forgive that; but instead to be with aziraphale, aziraphale completely as he is with nothing hidden, nothing repressed, and nothing sequestered away in fear of retribution from heaven - or indeed in fear of rejection from crowley.

so when crowley said he understood more than aziraphale did, i imagine that meant to aziraphale that crowley did indeed see all of that, had heard aziraphale and knew what aziraphale was offering, the security and freedom as aziraphale saw it, but didn't want it - didnt want aziraphale, didn't want that version of us - anyway. crowley didn't mean it that way, of course; he meant he knew that the restoration would trap him, try to make him into an angel he no longer knew or wanted to be, and was rejecting what he thought aziraphale wanted him to be.

but i personally can't conceive any notion where aziraphale would ever have thought this - he's fallen for the not-quite-angel-not-quite-demon that crowley is now - why can't crowley see that? he just wants to give him back the same peace and joy that he had before the fall, but naively cant understand that being an angel doesn't make it so. it's not about being an angel, for aziraphale, but what being an angel could return to crowley... that it could fix the wounds that the fall left behind.

but here we arrive at "no nightingales". given the symbolism in popular culture and in mythology behind the nightingale, and the context of the nightingale in their story, it seems to me like crowley is saying that the conversation that has just transpired between them has broken something. and really broken something. it hasn't broken the love, per se - that's still there - but it's led to their own personal tragedy. their conflicting wants and needs have led to the downfall. that in crowley's eyes, there isn't a way to repair the damage that has been done. he doesn't even qualify that it's 'no nightingales singing', but the full absence of them, meaning that this has changed - poisoned - every chance of what could have been.

"we could have been us" compounds this; that in crowley's mind, there is no possibility of this now. that he knows what aziraphale will decide, what he will choose, and knows that he has already lost; and he's placing all of it at aziraphale's feet. that if the only way to see them be together is to be restored, to return to heaven, then crowley can't and will not do it - he doesn't understand why aziraphale would even entertain the thought and sees it as a reflection of aziraphale's distain for his current self.

aziraphale however sees it as an opportunity to ensure that they are safe in perpetuity, and wants to reverse the fall because the happiness and joy that he saw before is what he wants for crowley now, not realising that the two are, as of now, currently incompatible. so this line is, for aziraphale, the final deathblow; that there is no way back from this, the chance has faded to nothing even if the love between them remains - and they'll never get back the 'us' that existed before the event, let alone the 'us' that they both want now.

the wave hits aziraphale and bowls him over, makes him stagger. what he has been wanting - but couldn't initiate out of fear - is now completely impossible and will never happen. his face crumples, and he turns away, mirrors crowley in not looking at him, not letting him see the vulnerability and the sorrow. he looks to the left, into the dark and away from the light, into the space where crowley normally stands, always by his side, and not on the other side of the chasm that has now erupted between them.

but crowley does sees the face, and recognises it. he's seen it before, seen the expression of when aziraphale hears his sentence and resigns himself to his fate, and despairs in kind that this rift of both of their makings has put in on aziraphale's face. but he also sees it as a mark of hope; can I change his mind? can I offer him something that I haven't offered yet? he can feel the last burning embers of doubt, and he could stoke it. build to a full fire, to an inferno. words haven't worked, they never work - "it's always too late" - but in this case, just one time, action might. so then crowley - oh, crowley - makes up his mind. he has to know, whatever happens, that he did everything that he could possibly do to cling to this dream, this fairytale, where they might get to be together.

and it's pure desperation and determination, the swan dive off the cliff not knowing how far it'll be until he reaches the bottom. there's the smallest chance he might catch an updraft and fly. but the kiss - whether he intends it that way or not - is a temptation. and he's so good at that, isn't he? he tempted aziraphale into eating, he tempted him into dispatching a child... he knows he can do it, and he knows that aziraphale can succumb to it (whether it's because angels can in fact be tempted by demons, or because aziraphale can be tempted by crowley). he has nothing else to lose, but everything to gain, and that everything is slipping through his fingers, "you can't leave this bookshop", so what does it matter if he tries to keep aziraphale in the last way he knows how?

and even then this time, it's more; it's physical, it's raw, and it's human. their common ground. he's the serpent of eden, he tempted eve to the apple, he brought about the fall of humanity. crowley has gone beyond tempting aziraphale with sly words, assurances, and logic; this time, he's putting everything into it, giving it his all, so neither of them can ever say he didn't try. temptation was literally his first order, his first command; his most powerful and yet destructive capability. and each one, on aziraphale's part, has led to manifestly chipping away at aziraphale's divinity, his angelic core. each one has made aziraphale into the person he is today, the person that crowley loves, so whilst it may not be the right thing to do, it's the best chance he has to reach him.

so crowley grabs him, wheels him round to face him, and pulls aziraphale into him. there are no words, there's no gentleness, there's no finesse; it's practically animal, carnal and rough, and everything that - in all likelihood - neither of them wanted when they imagined how this moment would be, if it ever came. and throughout the whole thing, crowley does not move. his grip does not lessen, his mouth does not move, his expression does not falter; it's like he's serpentine again in all but form, constricting and gripping his prey into subjugation. it's instinctive, and unconscious, probably involuntary, but it leaves aziraphale with such little room, no space to breathe.

aziraphale visibly seems to struggle - somewhat physically, but certainly emotionally and mentally - and we can see that predominantly in his expression. he at least almost seems like he's trying to pull away, or create some space between them. it's not how he likely imagined their first kiss - if they ever got to have one and if aziraphale indeed ever imagined it - to be; it's not right, and it certainly doesn't feel like love. love may be behind the wheel, but what is slamming into him in possession, and anguish. i can't believe that aziraphale doesn't know or feel that, not going by the way he reacts. there's also the fact that - as far as we've seen - the last time crowley gripped him by the lapels and got this close to him was at tadfield manor, when crowley was all but raging at him, "im not nice, im never nice; nice is a four-letter word". it's an unmistakable parallel, and it may be that that four-letter word is swapped out for another one, it certainly doesn't feel like it in the moment.

but then aziraphale relaxes, rocks back towards crowley, and returns it. he grips at his back, at the space where resides his wings, and gives back crowley what he's asking for. it might be that aziraphale is trying to be kind - giving him the confirmation that he returns his love even if he can't act on it - or it might be because aziraphale actually realises that he likes it, this kiss, and the brutality of it. it might even be that he knows that this may be his only chance to show crowley that it's reciprocated; that he feels the same way. but it may also be, in addition to any or indeed all of the above, that aziraphale subconsciously succumbs to the temptation. gripped and bound, with nowhere to go, he surrenders to his fate - the freefall - and allows himself for a moment to sink. but then he steps back out of it, reins himself in, lifts his hands again from crowley, and crowley finally lets go.

crowley lets go, and stands back to see what it might have changed. did he tempt him, did he succeed? will his angel stay? it felt like he will, he felt his hands and how he surrendered - he didn't imagine it - and it might have worked in crowley's favour. it worked with the ox. it worked with the antichrist. there's no reason it wouldn't work this time, right?

until aziraphale steps back. he steps back, places that distance, the chasm, between them again, and looks for all the world that the heavens have caved in, crashing and splintering all around them. a look of utter despair, almost a plea that what happened didn't happen, because it changes everything. it puts what can't happen into the open, makes it more than the abstract. it's longing, and it's sorrow, and it's heartbreak that this could have been what they'd have.

but the fog starts to lift, the shock has settled in, and horror sweeps over; it's disbelief that crowley made that move, and made it in the way he did. it's waking up, coming-to, reality starts to seep back in. it's looking down at the board, and seeing a check on the king, a challenge that aziraphale never saw coming -

- and then it almost becomes fear and panic, backed into a corner, and not necessarily because someone could have seen them, or because crowley has now put something fundamentally physical to what they are (although i believe these could also be contributory to his reaction), but it's the dread of having to refuse and deny what crowley has put out between them, dangling between their fingers waiting to be held.

aziraphale begins to bargain, starts to try reconciling what just happened, and whether anything can be salvaged. he's had a tiny piece of what their future could hold for them, and he has a decision to make. he starts wavering, starts to oscillate between the decision to follow his head and do what he feels is the right thing in the long-term, or arguably betray the person he has become over the millennia, deny himself what he thinks is the right thing, and instead follow his heart; grasp at crowley, and the future he laid out before him.

he looks to crowley for guidance, he's lost, suddenly unanchored in a churning maelstrom. trying to gauge what move he should take - does he surrender the king, or move it to evade the check?

either decision means that the game is up or is only a matter of time before it folds; he either risks their safety by staying, or risks losing crowley by going. there isn't another option, there isn't another way, and aziraphale is teetering between the two. neither are options that he wholeheartedly wants to take. he begins to trying to speak, trying to get out words that are choking him, trapped in the snare of Things Unsaid. words to explain, to placate, to beseech, to plead, and it starts to really hurt.

and what hurts about it the most is that he's about to deny crowley. in the full scene - you can't get it from just the frames - his expression is complete heartbreak. he wants to explain why, even now, when he wants to stay more than anything, he has to choose heaven. why he has to choose to continue evading the check, why he has to continue to fight. and it's the prospect of hurting crowley in the process, of prolonging the pain, that is tearing him apart.

except. except. he's just realised what crowley was doing. it was desperation, and fear for losing aziraphale, and a last ditch attempt to cling to what they have and what they could have. all of these thing, out of love.

but what aziraphale realises is that it was manipulation. it was temptation. this one means something deeper, something darker, because to aziraphale it was calling him to betray who he truly is. and suggests that who he truly is isn't enough.

his gaze flicks up from the floor, and he finally makes full eye contact, staring crowley down. it's disbelief all over again; that crowley would resort to that trick, the trick that crowley knows is aziraphale's personal, heartfelt weakness, and one that he will - and demonstrably always has - succumbed to.

it's the disbelief that crowley would take this power and use it to mold and ply aziraphale into staying, when crowley should know that going - to "make a difference" - is the most aziraphale thing he could do. if crowley loves him, exactly as he is, why would he try to make aziraphale betray that?

the anger, the sense of betrayal, sets in, and spreads like hellfire. it relaxes his face, almost bringing him an eerie serenity. because he's seen that not only does he have to break the check (tirelessly continuing the chess metaphor), but he's going to fight back. he's seen that he can instead take the piece threatening him, and checkmate in kind.

it's the scorched earth option, but one that will demonstrate that he's not one to falter under the eyes of a challenge; he will stand his ground, roots digging into the earth, and will not be moved. he takes a breath, about to move his piece that will end the game. it will make crowley lose, but it was lost already; the game was up as soon as he told aziraphale he understood what aziraphale was offering him. because whilst crowley was talking about a place in heaven, aziraphale was talking about us.

and to aziraphale's mind, crowley was so unwilling to hear him, so ready to reject whatever narrative meant he would have to love aziraphale more than he hated heaven, that crowley would stoop to essentially trying to trick aziraphale into staying. into betraying who he is at his core.

instead, aziraphale steels himself; he knows who he is, and he will be enough. the acceptance of the situation, what it will mean when he 'wins', will do something unspeakable, but it must be done. he has to show his own claws, show how much it hurt. aziraphale takes a breath, even has a small smirk, and places the final piece.

"i forgive you."

#the take noone asked for but youre getting anyway #round of applause for mr sheen tho yeah #good omens #crowley meta #aziraphale meta #feral domestic/final fifteen meta #s2 meta

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peripaltepsy · 11 days

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BEWARE OF "body mod advices" - they can be dangerous and LETHAL.

(this post was about a deactivated blog but extends to any possible future blog like it)

edit3 since he deactivated: Red told me in the DMs that he WILL be more careful about all this risk stuff, I believe he is going to do better. Im sure he's a good person and he also was extremely civil in the DMs. Since he's not here to defend himself anymore I'll gladly take his side and say that despite this mess, all Red wanted to do was indeed reduce harm and potentially save lives. Good luck on all your endeavors, Red, I wish you a beautiful and successful career and that you have a great positive impact in the atypical dysphoria community, both on and offline. I don't know how my post truly impacted you, I'm so sorry if you're feeling bad. You acted the best way you possibly could.

Second, if Red comes back, DO NOT HARASS HIM, let him be himself and don't let his past hold them down.

Third, all my points still stand for their deactivated blog and any potential body mod tips blogs in the future. Please everyone, take care, stay safe.

Past edit: DONT HARASS any possible blogs like hers, just REPORT and spread awareness, (also don't make the same mistakes as me: TALK TO THEM FIRST)

Past edit: minors please interact with this post, forget my bio for this one

Past edit: editing editing the post since I talked to Red and he isn't bait. I definitely should have talked to them in DMs first. I sincerely apologize. So sorry Red! To those reading, don't make the same mistake as me, ok? Always talk to people privately first, I genuinely fucked up bad. This mistake of assuming others intentions, can traumatize them. If I were in Red's shoes I'd be traumatized. So yeah, I fucked up bad.

Their intentions are genuine but my point still stands that its extremely dangerous and can't qualify as harm-reduction / end edit note

alright, I'm not transid/radqueer but you guys need to REPORT AND WARN OTHERS of these accounts as soon as they appear. Do not entertain them, no matter how desperate you are to transition. You can become a victim of dangerous charlatanism.

LONG POST AHEAD, VERY IMPORTANT NEVERTHELESS

Archive to what i'm about to post

Red claimed to be "a non-professional surgeon, planning on getting better with practice." Bad move!

Red has told me he's pursuing a medical degree and won't actually do non-qualified surgery.

Red: "The blog is centered around an idea of "extreme" body mods that I would like to explore further, [...] things like breaking and re-mending bones, creating new joints, replacing skin, etc."

My point: the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and your blog was unsafe.

To any possible counterarguments: "But they (people following/asking advice) know the risks!" That's victim-blaming. Red gave himself the responsibility to give harm-reducing advice, but he didn't do a good job.

"But I know the risks!" You can't possibly know the risks because Red doesn't know either or "kinda knows" but has not properly informed his audience, it didnt give sources, oversimplified their advice and failed to provide accurate information about risk. Or gave plain misinformation.

Again I'm not transid, I can't possibly imagine what you're going through in order to try anything at all to feel better, including trying experimental surgery not legally available or not researched at all. However, please please please do not become a victim of medical deceit or whatever tf it's called. Even if the blog owner tries their best to be reliable.

They might sound confident, but they do not know what they are saying, what they're telling others to do.

Ask: "How would I make my skin gray without tattoos?" (DO NOT SHAME THIS USER BTW)

Red: "[...] I assume you want permanent grey. To do this, it's pretty simple, although it'll take a lot of time. Basically, what you want to do is to constantly be exposed to lots of silver. Any product with silver in it like specific lotions and skin creams. also fish, milk, mushrooms, and whole grains tend to have silver in them! So tldr, consume lots of silver!"

STOP!!! DONT FOLLOW THIS ADVICE!!! DONT OVER-EXPOSE YOURSELF TO SILVER!!! "Silver toxicity causes argyria. Silver toxicity occurs when too much silver is in your body." <- from a simple research on "too much silver in blood"

THE RESULT WILL BE ARGYRIA. EVEN IF YOU DO IT SLOWLY, YOU ARE BUILDING UP A HEAVY METAL IN YOUR BODY. THE GREY SKIN IS NOT PRETTY NOR WITHOUT GRUESOME SIDE SYMPTOMS.

Yall. Anything in excess will fuck up your body, including iron, vitamins, and silver.

To whoever asked Red, I don't know your mind, but I'm sure you'd love to live a happy life with grey skin! You'd love to have a body you're comfortable with and looks rad as hell! But you wouldn't be able to enjoy it if you're deeply sick with ARGYRIA, WHICH IS WHAT RED'S ADVICE WILL GIVE YOU!

Ask: "How do I get darker skin without going too dark? I’m pale and burn easily, I just want a color similar to Lin Manuel Miranda" (AGAIN DONT HARASS THIS USER)

Red: [...] "expose yourself to the sun more! As you do this, you'll get tan which will protect you from future burns and make your skin slightly darker, do this enough and you can engineer your skin to be as dark as you want!"

THATS MISINFORMATION! Yes you may tan to get darker (Lin's tone may or may not be achievable to you) but one: it's not permanent unless you're constantly going out; two: SKIN CANCER!!!! DONT OVER-EXPOSE YOURSELF TO THE SUN!!!! USE SUNSCREEN!!

TO ANYONE SEEKING A MUCH DARKER TONE: YOU CAN'T "GO AS DARK AS YOU WANT TO" BY TANNING. Just look at people who have lived their whole lives outdoors like farmers! White people can't tan to black! There's a limit to how tan you may get! Are you seriously gonna risk skin cancer for an impossible thing???

Red: "Self amputation is really dangerous! You should learn how to use a tourniquet, that way, you can stop the bleeding! [...]" WHERE ARE YOU GETTING YOUR SOURCES, RED?

If anyone reading this is seriously thinking of amputating themselves, and will not change their minds no matter what, please just have someone immediately drive you to the hospital. I do not support such operation and you can still die or get horribly sick even with your best precautions, but you better receive actual medical attention and stay alive rather than trying to heal it yourself. Because what you'll most likely get from following Red's advice is DEATH FROM BLOOD LOSS. Again, if you absolutely cannot get rid of this dysphoria with therapy, or manage it at least, or have a doctor do it for you, I still would NEVER suggest you do it yourself, but IF you end up doing that then at least please go straight to the hospital instead of trying to heal it yourself.

Red: "do not try and break your own bones to make modifications! [...] Get another person (Like myself) to help you with the bone breakage instead."

NO ONE KNOWS WTF THEY'RE DOING. YOUR FRIEND DOESN'T. RED DOESN'T (as they advertised in the post). NO ONE IS GOING TO GET MODIFICATIONS LIKE THIS. NO ONE IS GOING TO BE HAPPY. EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE EITHER IN PAIN, RISK OF HORRIBLE INJURIES OR TROUBLE WITH THE LAW. FUCKING AROUND = GUARANTEED BOTCHED OPERATION.

Also, now that Red has clarified she won't perform surgery until having an actual degree, you can't really go to her XD

Red: "Some advice for surgery [...] This one's important, make sure your patient is strapped down and properly sedated, if they move, even slightly, you risk hitting a vital artery or organ, if you do hit an artery, don't panic, this is why you learned how to use a tourniquet! if you hit a vital organ though, odds are you won't know how to fix that, so be extra careful with abdomen and face surgery!"

Thats still promoting medical malpractice, mutilating and potentially killing friends, dangerously downplaying surgery so much, this is not harm-reduction

Ask: "I want to be blind in one eye, but more-so in the sense of extreme but not total vision loss. I want to do something permanent in the future!" (AGAIN DONT HARASS THIS USER)

Red: Well, a simple fix to your problem is just get some calcium hydroxide in your eye and wash it out a few minutes later, this should lead to permanent, extreme (but not total) vision loss in that eye. Keep it in too long and it can cause total vision loss so be careful!

Ok so, it's great that you're trying to come up with alternative ways for users not to kill themselves by gouging their eyes out, but you've still failed to give them the full picture

From a quick search "calcium hydroxide in the eyes": Exposure to the skin can produce burns, painful irritation and necrosis, and exposure to the eyes may cause severe pain and vision loss that can be temporary or permanent. If calcium hydroxide is exposed to the skin, contaminated clothing should be removed, excess amounts of the chemical should be wiped off and the affected skin should be flushed repeatedly with water. Victims of calcium hydroxide exposure to the eyes should flush their eyes with water continuously for the first 15 minutes, but all cases of external exposure should receive immediate medical care. Inhaling calcium hydroxide through the nose or mouth can also cause immediate, painful and potentially life-threatening complications. Throat and nasal passages may become painful and swollen, and the swelling may restrict airways, making breathing difficult or impossible. If the calcium hydroxide particles are carried all the way to the lungs, this may further complicate breathing. Victims of this type of exposure should be taken immediately to a fresh air environment, and emergency services should be contacted right away. Administration of oxygen and emergency respiratory assistance may be required.

Red (answering an ask): "the question shouldn't be what DO people replace their skin with, it should be what CAN they, after all, just because it's never been practiced or very rarely practiced doesn't mean it's bad or impossible! Of course, my personal favorite skin substitutes are rubber and red velvet, I am also a big fan of stainless steel."

(Don't promote such an operation). THIS OPERATION IS BAD AND IMPOSSIBLE TO SUCCEED. SKIN CAN ONLY BE REPLACED WITH SKIN. SKIN IS A LIVING ORGAN. ANY OTHER SUBSTITUTE WILL CAUSE YOU TO LOSE BODY PARTS OR DIE.

YOU KNOW HOW PEOPLE WITH TRANSPLANTS NEED LIFE-LONG MEDICAL ATTENTION SO THEIR BODY DOESN'T REJECT IT? HOW TF WILL YOU DO THIS WITH FUCKING RED VELVET?

YOU WILL FUCK UP YOUR BODY'S IMMUNE SYSTEM A THOUSAND DIFFERENT WAYS.

ANYWAYS. CROSSTAGGING FOR REACH. PLEASE EVERYONE REBLOG. THIS IS SERIOUS SHIT.

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