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mysticheathenn · 5 months

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Reassuring Messages From The Universe

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is all about messages reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. I felt called to do this reading, hopefully, this reading gives you some sort of solace, peace, and hope.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

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Pile l:

What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: The Chariot, 6 of Swords (Clarified by 2 of Swords, reversed), 4 of Pentacles (Clarified by 4 of Pentacles), The High Priestess, King of Wands.

Some of you may be dealing with depression, anxiety, or in general, your mental space has not been in the greatest of shape lately. Something is going to give you your spark back to help you trust and lead you on your way towards victory. You've been in your shell long enough holding onto the reality around you. For some of you, this is by choice but for the majority of you, this is because of your circumstances. You could be dealing with financial struggles or whatnot, either way, I see you finally walking down the path of where you want to go with no fear as to what will or can happen because you are trusting more in the universe (God, Allah, etc) that everything will work out. You're walking away from what could be a job, relationship, friends/family, or even just no longer letting your mental health and mindset get the best of you anymore and finally deciding enough is enough. If not you the universe will show you that enough is enough, this doesn't feel like a thrust into your new direction like a tower moment but more so of a gentle hand. Similar to how an animal is scared or nervous in their new home and you are gently letting them feel the lay of the land and giving them pets here and there of encouragement that everything is fine and that they are safe. This next chapter feels like safety, reassurance, and guidance from the divine. You may still be scared and may sometimes even revert back to what you know best but it will be more so of a quick mindset switch before you continue on this new path. I'm hearing where you are is no longer serving. Trust that you are being led to victory and not another lesson, financial bankrupt, etc. Lead with passion, lead by your passions, and live your life passionately. Be Bold and stop shrinking.

Extra Messages: Tea Trea Oracle: Strong emotion passionate love or hate. November. A period of ill health/Depression. Do not lower your standards. The key to the outcome of your problems. Involvement with the law (contracts or winning a legal battle). Obstacles you will overcome. Happiness.

Pile ll:

What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Wands, Strength (reverse), 10 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.

Weirdly "Hit Me Baby One More Time" came to mind but not in the sense of what the song is about but more so that you are constantly being knocked down by life's challenges and most of you aren't sure if you can get up again. "Knock me down 9 times but I get up 10" - Cardi B (Get Up 10). Your strength is weary but something in you still has that hope and faith that something better is coming and you are right. With the 9 of pentacles and 10 of cups card something better is coming. Because everyone's desires and goals are different whatever this is that you have been dreaming, manifesting, praying, or just working your ass off for is finally coming into fruition. You just need to not give up before the finish line, you're almost there. "I'm almost there" - Tianna, Princess and the Frog movie. Your story might be similar to Tiana's or you may have a deep admiration for her for how she worked hard and finally got her dream of owning a restaurant. Tiana is you, you are Tiana in this reading. She went through some tough times and even thought about giving up a time or two but something in her just like yourself is holding on to that thread of hope that everything will pay off, you just need a sign. This is that sign. Keep hanging on, hold on to your guides/Universe/Ancestors/etc hand during this process when you feel you need that extra push to keep going. I am hearing some of you a fast may help give you more clarity or bring this to fruition faster. Some of you may have been thinking about fasting. Fasting can be anything. It can be not eating from 8am to 8pm, not eating breakfast and lunch, sustaining from social media or sex, etc etc. Whatever it is fast may give you the clarity and strength you need. Fasting is only for some of you

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: October. January. Good Fortune. Protected from negative forces beyond your control. A sincere wish will be granted. Period of frustration, lessons to be learned. The most difficult part is over. Major challenges to overcome. Something important, such as a new job or raise.

Pile lll:

What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 10 of Cups, 5 of Wands, 7 of Swords (reversed), The Hermit, 4 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.

There are two different messages for this pile. For some of you, you are dealing with someone in your life that is causing you a great deal of emotional and mental turmoil. You may even daily try to pray and wish this person away because you don't have the strength to do it yourself, while others of you are in hermit mode because you are tired of receiving people in your life that does nothing but make you hate people, wish you never met them, or just not want to connect with others in general. Either way, the main gist of it all is people are stressing you out and have not been treating you well forcing you to rethink everything in life. Some of you might even question your existence as if you are here to be a punching bag for those who have not healed their inner wounds. For those still dealing with toxic people I am seeing you going into a period of isolation. Your prayers, manifestions, cord cutting rituals are being answered. I'm hearing be careful what you wish for. So for some of you, this isolation is exactly what the doctor ordered while some of you will like it in the beginning but slowly realize exactly what this period of isolation may mean. You may be the type that doesn't do well alone or not always surrounded by people and this isolation it will teach you not only how to see your self-worth and what truly matters in your life (what you want and not allow people to treat you). Others who are in a period of isolation already may have been working on something if not you will receive an idea something that will bring you the emotional and financial fulfillment that you have been desiring for a while. Either way, at the end of both periods of isolation blessings, emotional, and financial blessings are to be found. Take this period of self-reflection as a blessing and utilize it to the best of your abilities to explore yourself. I get a sense that you don't know yourself pile lll. Some of you may have an idea of who you are, what you stand for, and your morals/integrity.....but do you really know yourself..the real you and not the one you put on as a facade. Do not be afraid of what is to come. Do not be afraid of peace and quiet. Embrace the silence. Embrace the change and shift in the current.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Honor and respect will come to you. Changes in your life. Sorrow over a loss. Financial Pinch. Happiness. Peace and Harmony. Deep personal strength and peace that assures success (period of isolation).

Pile lV:

What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Cups, Awakening, The Hermit, Queen of Wands (reversed), King of Wands

Similar to pile lll, but different. Instead of this being about others causing yourself turmoil this is mostly about you not feeling confident in yourself or your abilities to do anything right especially regarding goals, talents, etc. For some of you, this idea was implanted by someone you once looked up to but for most of you, this has more to do with either perfectionism or just comparing yourself to someone else. You aren't realizing that the reason the grass is greener on the other side is because that person too had to put in the work to make it in such a state. They didn't just wake up with green grass but they nurtured it, fed it nutrients, and kept unwanted and negative pests or harmful animals away from it. You need to do the same for yourself as well. You are the grass that needs to be nurtured, loved, and spoken to with such kindness. Anything else that does not give you the feeling of growth, happiness, and peace has no room in your life pile lV. As mentioned before, in pile lll you may either be in isolation or in need of isolation to help clear your mind. Either way in this isolation, you will be finding yourself again. Some of you may even look up things on Tumblr, Pinterest, etc on how to be "That girl/boy/person", Cottage Core, or whatever aesthetic or vibe that you have been wanting to do either way you want to become more tapped into who you are without caring what others may think. You are stepping into your power and becoming happy with life and possibly even trying to romanticize your life more. Some of you may even want to start a YouTube channel to help romanticize your life with edits and so forth. Weirdly I am feeling the vibe of slow-living content (only a few of you.) If not slow living waking up at 5 or 6am in the morning type of routine. Either way, this message is to reassure you that you are and will be coming back to yourself. It may take some time, trial, and error but when you listen to only yourself and not others, you will flourish beyond belief. Take this time to document your journey so you can see your growth as to when you become the person you are meant to be. Being yourself is the key to your financial abundance. That's all I hear. I don't know what they may mean for you either way being and finding yourself is the key. This could be like I mentioned YouTube, this could be giving into your desires to knit or crochet weird things or even making figurines and selling them on Etsy...whatever the thing is, being authentic is the key.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Someone or something is trying to come between you and something you want. Recognition, Reward for merit. Chain of events that will affect your life. Career. March. News of a birth or new business opportunity. Happiness. Money will be coming to you. A goal-oriented person.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

Next Reading: Patreon Related

#spirituality #tarot reading #witchblr #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a card #tarot cards #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #pick a photo #pick a picture

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logmore · 5 months

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There is something bothering me that I would like to apologize for. During our Palestinian fundraiser this weekend, I got carried away and read a donation message that I think came off as belittling to Palestinians. I'm sure the donator didn't mean any harm by it, and I absolutely don't want to make light of Palestine's struggle for freedom, so I would like to say sorry for reading that message, and I will be more careful in the future. That being said, I also want to talk about the fundraiser. You RTVS fans really are incredible. We present you with a very non-standard way to donate to the cause, and you show out in bigger numbers than ever before. I've never seen a more generous group of people, and it makes me proud to be involved in whatever small way I am. I already received an update from one of the GoFundMe campaigns that I donated to talking about how they have used the donations to reach safety, and I am sure all the money raised this weekend will go on to help a ton of people in Gaza. Keep doing what you can, and I am sure we can have a future free of colonial oppression. Thank you.

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coralinnii · 3 months

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Hello! If u dont remember me I'm the person that requested the villainess au Trey x reader from a long time ago, just wanna drop in and say I really look forward to your works and hope you have a great day/night/time! Sorry for bothering you if this message ends up being a bother

‧₊˚✧ Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy‧₊˚✧

feat: Trey

genre: slow burn, coworkers-to-something more

note: no pronouns were used for reader, reader is implied to be old enough to work, mentions of poisoning and assassination attempts, reader is somewhat emotionally constipated.

extra note: While Trey is not quite in-character as I would like, he is supposed to be younger than his canon version, so I wanted him to be more unsure and inexperienced than his future self.

I did it, I finally got this done. Praise me (don't)

Being Reincarnated as the Bad Guy aka Villain/ess AU masterlist

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense. No, you seriously don’t.

One minute you were finally getting off a particularly bad shift at work, only to be in this strange world you don’t recognize…as a low-ranking servant to the bloody royal family!

The rules, the standards, the pretentious nobles you have to smile in fear of having your neck sliced…where’s OSHA when you need them?

At least your coworkers were decent and you’re not in charge of anything too major like waiting on the Queen or her son, unlike that young aide-in-training you see running up and down the palace…poor Sir Clover.

Not your problem, though

…Until a couple of greedy noblemen forced a vial of poison into your hands, promising you a grand reward of money and status for your compliance. They wanted you to spike the drink of the crown prince’s closest aide-in-training so they could plant their own men by his side.

With your best service smile on, you handed back the vial back.

“No ❤️”

When they try to threaten you, you kindly remind them that if they plan to drag you in the mud, you’re not above pulling them along with you.

“If I’m going down, I’m dragging everyone with me.”

Once that was over, you wanted to cleanse yourself from this ugly conspiracy. You were way too busy worrying about your own neck, and you assumed that Sir Clover was cautious over his own safety that you, a mere worker bee, have nothing to contribute.

However, you do notice that the young green-haired man seems to prioritize others over himself, and the lights to his room are often still lit until late into the night. An honest young man burdened with responsibilities; his defenses may not always be on guard…

Ugghh, what a pain in the-

“Um, excuse me?” You looked to the tall nobleman trying to capture your attention.

“Yes, Sir Clover?”

“Were you originally scheduled to work today?”

You held your urge to click your tongue. Of course, Trey would be aware of at least who was scheduled to wait on Prince Riddle and him. What an annoyingly conscientious man.

“My colleague was feeling unwell so I offered to take her place for today. I apologize for not informing you beforehand.” You bowed politely which made the bespectacled man a little flustered.

“No, I’m grateful she could take a rest. Thank you for taking up the role but please let us know next time so we can offer some medical help if needed.”

That wouldn’t be necessary, you thought as you nodded regardless. Your coworker wasn’t really sick in any way but she was more than happy to switch schedules with you.

Many of the servants are under the impression that you harbored a crush on the admittedly cute aide-in-training since you were caught glancing at his direction more often than usual. It wouldn't be surprising if your “crush” in question is also aware of the gossip, which leads to his tenseness around you. Be it kindness or hesitance, Sir Clover chose not to reprimand you for doing as you please.

“What a pain, but I guess it works in my favor anyway.”

A knock rang through the room and with Riddle’s permission, an anxious maid came in with a tray carrying a tea set, confusing everyone in the room.

It’s not time for afternoon tea yet.

“What is the meaning of this?” For someone so young, Riddle’s sharp tone ran a deadly chill down everyone’s back. “Afternoon tea is not for another 13 minutes.”

The maid stuttered in fear, the tea set clattering slightly in her hands. “T-The servants thought that His Highness and Sir C-Clover have been working tirelessly today and perhaps some tea could help.”

You had too much of a survival instinct to dare look at the prince but the silence and building heat in the air was evidence enough that the thought was not appreciative.

Trey was quick to clear the tension with an awkward cough and a smile. “Thank you, I could use some.”

At his words, you dutifully proceeded to reach for the set when the maid hastily pulled it away from you.

Strange

“I-I can do it. Please excuse me” Without sparing a glance towards you, the maid quickly set the tray down on a nearby table and worked to pour a cup.

You’ve seen this maid only a few times. She was a new addition to the roster, too new to approach the royal family but here she was. She hadn't even learned how to properly hold the pot which was noticeable to everyone but was ignored (at the behest of Trey’s wordless plea) due to assumed inexperience.

“She’s so nervous but here she is, so adamant about serving some damn tea…”

A suffocating feeling rising in your throat, you watched with trepidation as the maid walked towards Trey while holding the teacup almost too preciously.

“Eek!” The maid shrieked when your hand squeezed her wrist in an unforgiving grip. She turned to question you but your glare kept her silent.

Trey looked at you with confusion, but your attention kept on the shaking maid and the teacup. With your other hand, you reach for your silver brooch given as part of your uniform to symbolize you as a person of the royal family.

The confusion in Trey’s eyes turned to disbelief when he watched your silver brooch become a damning color as you dipped the silver into the tea.

The broken maid would have crumbled completely onto the pristine floor if not for your hand still on her wrist. While she seemed to be a bumbling mess begging for her life, you couldn’t risk her making a run for it.

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense.

”So, it was a plan to replace me…permanently.”

You stood silently in front of the solemn man in his office. After arresting her, it was easy to extract information from the maid and prince Riddle is gathering evidence for their act of treason, including your own interrogation.

“You are the trusted aide-to-be of the prince that cannot be bribed. You’re considered an obstacle.” You bowed your head. “I apologize for not speaking out sooner but if it were just my words without evidence, I could have my tongue removed for accusing nobility.”

If it was just you, then you wouldn’t be as confident. But to think that those corrupted nobles managed to convince someone else to do their dirty work. They were desperate and now that there was an attempt, the higher authorities have to take action.

“I shouldn’t feel bad for that maid…why should I for the choice she made…” you could still feel the sensation of that woman’s shaking body in the hand that held her. You don’t like it.

“Ha, you really don’t sugarcoat your words.” Trey’s voice pulled you back as he tried to laugh but his young body felt too heavy to put his whole heart into it.

But it’s finally over. The poisoning failed and those stupid noble scums were on Prince Riddle’s hit-list. That feeling of guilt that ate at your heart could finally rest in peace…right?

Even when he was the victim of all this, Trey was still sitting in his office in charge of investigating his own assassination attempt, on top of his usual duties in assisting the Royal family.

“Thank you for your time,” he even dares to smile kindly at you with dark circles under his warm eyes. “If you could, please call over the head staff to plan on interrogating the rest of the servants.”

“No.”

“N-No?”

“I won’t be doing that. I could ask the head staff to leave his schedule open if needed or if he could handle it with the guards since that’s his f*cking job,” You stared right into Trey’s eyes which widened in surprise. “For now, I humbly suggest Sir Clover to take a rest in his room or to work on something other than your assassination case.”

You didn’t wait for your stunned employer to reply as you bowed politely once more. “If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.”

You moved away, making your way to the door before pausing. You glanced back at the young man in such a large office and your consciousness felt heavy. Your body was physically no older than Trey or Riddle but the weight on their shoulders was immeasurable, too much for either of them to handle on their own.

“Sir Clover,” you refused to look him in the eyes, “if you ever need anything…I’m willing to assist however I can.”

Immediately regretting your embarrassing words, you quickly added “but during work hours only!” before hastily leaving the office.

A shame really, since you missed the way Trey let out a genuine laugh after so long.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #villainess au #trey clover #twst trey x reader

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d20-lesbian · 4 months

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AFTER AN OVERWHELMING WAVE OF SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT, I'VE DECIDED TO POST THE WILL WOOD ESSAY!!!! it's below the break !!!!

I would like to really quickly state though that this essay is my property, I put a lot of time and effort into this, so please don't claim it as your own !!!! thank you <33

I will be analysing Will Wood’s song ‘Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Marybell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally’. which, for simplicity, most fans refer to as simply ‘Suburbia Overture’. This song is the first on his first solo album entitled ‘The Normal Album’, which came out in July 2020.

This song, in the most general possible terms, is a criticism of modern suburban life, how it is advertised as “the perfect life”, and how this advertising is incredibly false unless you fit the picture perfect standard that these facets of society seem to require.

The song itself is split up into 3 distinct sections, "Greetings from The Marybell Township!", “(Vampire) Culture” and “Love Me, Normally”. I'll be tackling each section one at a time in order to properly break down what each means, what different analogies they use, how they all relate to each other and the intended end result of the song and the message it intends to convey.

Let's begin with 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!'.

This section of the song uses a lot of analogies that compare suburban life to a warzone, the first line of this section being “white picket fences, barbed wire and trenches”. This section also focuses heavily on the concept of the nuclear family, and it often literalises the term and uses analogies based around radiation and nuclear warfare. Such analogies can be found in lines such as “the snap crackle pop of the Geiger, camouflage billboards for lead lined Brookes Brothers”. Now there's a couple of terms that require definitions in this line. The first of course being “the Geiger”. A Geiger counter, which is what this lyric is referring to, is a tool used to measure levels of harmful radiation. This, paired with the concept of billboards advertising “lead-lined Brookes Brothers” when lead is a material used to deflect radiation, and the knowledge that ‘Brookes Brothers’ is an American vintage style clothing brand, this line really paints a picture of a seemingly post apocalyptic/post nuclear war but still consumerist and capitalistic suburban society. The last line in that verse is “buy now or die”, which ties back to the concept of safety equipment being advertised on billboards, while residents of this town have no choice but to buy the products. This all relates back to the hyperconsumerism that plagues our society, and runs particularly rampant in middle to upper middle class neighbourhoods. The very same neighbourhoods that are often referred to as “suburban”

In the second verse of this section there are a lot of hard hitting lyrics that to me really show that this perfect idealised life is far from perfect or even good, so we will work through them one by one because I feel that they all deserve proper analysis.

The first line that i want to point out from that verse is the line “takes a village to fake a whole culture” which is clearly a rip off of the phrase “it takes a village [to raise a child]” but it also references the fact that usually suburban towns are incredibly monotonous in both residents and architecture, and so it takes the collective effort of the entire population of the town to pretend that there is an actual culture to it.

The next few lines I'll speak on all come in quick succession of one another, essentially blending them into one line.

“Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall.”

So let's break these down. This line is easily split into 4 distinct phrases, and all of these phrases have a few things in common, which I will point out later.

“Your ear to the playground” is a play on the phrase “ear to the ground” which essentially means that the person with their ‘ear to the ground’ is attempting to carefully gather intel about something. Someone having their ear to the playground simply reinforces the idea of this suburban “paradise” being. Not as paradise-y as one would hope, seeing as the people who use playgrounds most of all are children, so this line is demonstrating that the picture perfect life that this suburban town offers is actually corrupting children so young that they are still on the playground.

The next phrase is “your eye on the ball” isn't a play on anything and is in fact in itself a common phrase. To have your eye on the ball means to be entirely focused in and paying attention to something, and not allowing anything to divert your attention. Given the last line this line very well could be another reference to the corruption of the youth and the idea that their every day play has already been tainted with the hostilities of modern life usually reserved for adults.

Following this is another well known saying “your head in the gutter” which, as most know, someone whos head is ‘in the gutter’ is someone who will see some sort of innuendo or otherwise vulgar/inappropriate meaning in something that was intended to be entirely innocent, leading to others in the interaction telling the perpetrator to ‘get [their] mind out of the gutter’

And finally, in my opinion the most hard hitting phrase in this set, “your brains on the wall” which is clearly in reference to the notion of ending your own life with a shot to the head, which would lead to, well, brains being on the wall. These last 2 phrases come in stark contrast to the seemingly picture perfect life that suburban towns offer and advertise, the concepts of suicide and perversion are not concepts one expects to see or hear when imagining this idealised form of life.

There is one main similarity in each of the 4 phrases, that being that each phrase has some body part being on something else, your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall. This similarity almost offers a body horror aspect to the song, which when paired with the concept that this is written about a seemingly post nuclear apocalyptic town presents an interesting idea of possible mutation, but i'll be the first to admit that may be a little far fetched. However that's not the only similarity that these 4 phrases share, another is the fact that they are all directly, or only slightly modified versions of already well known phrases, a similarity that is found in many lines over this entire song, through all 3 sections.

I want to analyse a few more lines before we move on to the second section of the song.

This next line comes directly after the previously analysed line, and it goes “home is where the heart is, you ain't homeless, but you’re heartless”

Sticking with the theme of using already existing and commonly used phrases, “home is where the heart is'' is once again a phrase that you could likely find as a cross stitch hung up on the wall of any of the homogenous houses you could likely find in this idealised suburbia. But what Wood is saying in this line is that home is where the heart is, and that while people in this town may not be homeless, they are certainly heartless, meaning that they in fact don't have homes. They have houses. Rows upon rows of houses that all look the exact same in the horrifying monotony that is suburban living.

Following this line is the lyric “it's the safest on the market, but you still gotta watch where you park it”. These lines seem to be in reference to buying a car. The car being the "safest on the market" is likely in reference to the fact that it may have a lot of safety features. But this is immediately negated by the fact that you “still gotta watch where you park it” meaning that the safety features could be a reason that the car gets stolen, rendering all the safety that those features offered useless because in the end it made the car and the owner less safe.

In the third verse of this section, you immediately hear the line “so give me your half-life crisis” which partially is a play on the term ‘mid life crisis’ wherein which one realises that they may have wasted their life up till that point and they're already halfway through, but the use of the term “half-life” instead of ‘mid-life’ is very intentional, as the term “half-life” can also be used to refer to the half-life of an isotope, which is the amount of time that isotope takes to lose half of its radiation, which ties back into the theme of radiation that we see mentioned a lot in this section.

Later in the same verse is the line “if it's true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard”, which is interesting in a few ways, first, it brings up the idea of a singular individual means nothing on their own and that they only matter when they’re part of something larger or a larger group, but i also think that the use of the terms “snowflake” and “blizzard” instead of something like ‘raindrop’ and ‘storm’ is very intentional in the fact that snowflakes are known for being individual, none are alike, every single one is different. So saying that a snowflake doesn't matter unless it's in a blizzard is yet another hit at individuality, essentially implying that in this town individuality means nothing and is essentially rendered useless.

The final line in this verse is “everybody's all up in my-” repeated thrice, and on the third time the sentence is finished to say “everybody’s all up in my business” and before the word “business” can be finished its overlapped with the beginning of the chorus, the first word of which is a very loud “SUBURBIAAAA!”. I believe this is reminiscent of the fact that in towns like this, everyone cares so much about what everyone else is doing, they’re all so interested in everyone else's business, and i think that sentiment being stated and cut off by the word “Suburbia” is essentially saying that ‘this is the norm, this is just Suburbia, this is how it works around here.’

After the final chorus of this section, in the final verse, you'll find the line “chameleon peacocks are talk of the town” which particularly interests me because if you know anything about chameleons or peacocks you’d find that they seem incredibly different as animals. Chameleons blend into their environment in order to stay safe, whereas peacocks are known for parading around bright colours to make themselves look better, but if you think about it the term “chameleon peacock” actually makes a lot of sense, a person who blends into their surroundings in order to make themselves look good. This sentiment seems to perfectly describe the homogeneity of the people that live in these perfect towns, they're all the same, they blend in with one another in order to make themselves look good, or perfect.

Another line heard shortly afterwards is the phrase “he cums radiation”, rather vulgar, I grant you, but it's important because it is yet another literalisation of the phrase ‘nuclear family’. It could also be a reference to the general toxicity of this societal norm.

The final line in this section of the song is “the dog bites the postman, as basement eyes dream of a night at the drive-in, with an AR-15”. Which is another use of juxtaposition, intended to cause a kind of whiplash in the listener and reinforce the idea that while in this place there is scenarios that would happen in a hollywood movie esque picture perfect neighbourhood, like the dog biting the postman, there's also horrors that lurk below the surface. (although clearly not TOO far below.)

Now let’s move on to the second part, ‘(Vampire) Culture’.

If you listen to the song, you’ll immediately be able to recognise where 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' ends and ‘(Vampire) Culture’ begins, due to the insane juxtaposition between the two. Where 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' is soft and sort of reminiscent of the 1950’s, ‘(Vampire) Culture’ is loud, jarring and grotesque, complemented with much raspier and strained sounding vocals compared to 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' ’s soft and melodic ones. The tone for this section of the song is immediately set with much more graphic lyrics, the very first line of this section (after the opening scream) is “i dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire, we fucked on a bed of nails” which absolutely sets the scene for how different this section will be to the previous.

This song immediately jumps into using cannibalism as a metaphor, with the first line after the jump start opener being “I caught kuru from your sister, and I'm laughing in jail”. While this line is written to sound like the concept of catching an STD from an act of adultery, Kuru is actually a disease only found in human brain tissue, meaning that you can only contract this disease by eating a human brain, and what's one of the symptoms for this disease? Uncontrollable laughter.

This use of cannibalism as a metaphor is used again immediately after in the line “smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on that 4th of July grill”, ‘sweetbread’ is the term used to refer to the pancreas and thymus gland of an animal, usually a lamb, but in this particular case it is in reference to the human teenagers that supposedly lived in The Marybell Township, or a least they did before they were dissected, cooked and served at a neighbourhood 4th of July barbeque hosted by the same people that were once referred to as their neighbours.

This line adds an interesting level of patriotism to the song and criticism of how America utilises patriotism and their love for their country as means to justify harming the youth, however a 4th of July neighbourhood barbeque is also commonly associated with white picket fence gated community America, which ties us back to the base criticism of that style of life and how it is seen as the “proper” and “perfect” way to live.

These cannibalistic sentiments are followed up with the line “smile and wave boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love, please pass the pills.” which brings us back to the repeated use of commonly known sayings being taken directly or modified only slightly to remind the listener of the setting were in, that being a seemingly 1950’s era tight knit neighbourhood.

Phrases like “live laugh [and] love” or “kiss the cook” are both phrases that could easily be seen in a setting like this, especially “kiss the cook”, as this is a phrase commonly associated with aprons worn by grillmasters at neighbourhood barbeques, not unlike the cannibalistic 4th of July barbeque that this particular neighbourhood seems to be hosting.

These phrases being immediately followed up with a sentiment such as “please pass the pills” serves to entirely undermine the pleasantries that, until a moment ago, seemed to be plastered all over the faces of the people living in this fictional town that Wood has created. I think that final phrase brings the listener back to the realisation that not all is right here, quite the opposite in fact, and drags them from their momentary paradise.

Circling back very quickly to the phrase “smile and wave”. I felt the need to point out that this phrase has been used for centuries as a way to say “stop talking and act normal” which once again reinforces that these people are pretending to be something they’re not in order to fit in.

We enter the next verse with the repeated phrase “it's only culture”, after that line is repeated three times we hear “sulfur, smoke and soot”, which could either be a reference to how dirty and disgusting the ‘culture’ is, or it could be a different way of saying that this culture and the people participating are going to hell, as per the common phrase ‘fire and brimstone’ and the fact that sulfur is another way of saying brimstone, and smoke and soot are both byproducts of fire.

The last line of this verse and the first line of the chorus blend into each other, so I’ll speak on them both.

First, the last line of the verse. It goes “you cocked and sucked your lack of empathy, pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you've got-”

Putting aside the clear innuendo, this line refers to the idea of ending one's own life with a long shotgun. According to the media, by the time the gun is cocked and the barrel is in your mouth, you're not able to pull the trigger with your hands due to the length of the barrel. This line instead presents the solution of pulling the trigger with your foot to end your life.

So this person “cocked and sucked” the gun (cocked the gun and put the barrel in their mouth) before pulling the trigger with their foot to prove they’ve got-

And here's where the verse blends into the chorus.

Because the first line only consists of one word.

“Blood”.

The person who was shooting themselves with a shotgun only to prove that they bleed. Which is where the title of this section comes in. “(Vampire) Culture”. This section seeks to portray either the people in this culture or, the more likely option, the culture itself, as metaphorical vampires, who aim to destroy those around them. This knowledge makes the next line “didn't they want your blood, so why apologise for being blue and cold” make a lot more sense. After all, if these culture vampires have drained you of your blood, is it not their fault that you’re now “blue and cold”, as bodies tend to be if they lack blood flow. However, if you look at synonyms for the words “blue” and “cold”, you could also interpret this phrase as meaning “sad and apathetic”.

A sad and apathetic person doesn't seem to be the kind of person this ‘culture’ seeks to enlist however, and so one who is “blue and cold” is shunned as an outsider.

What Wood is getting at is that if this culture is the one who made you sad and apathetic, then you should not apologise to it for being so.

The next verse is short, and like the previous one, also blends into the chorus in the same way, by having the last line of the verse cut off right where the chorus would finish the sentence with the word “blood”. However in this verse, there's an interesting line. “It's only culture and it's more afraid of you than you are of it”, which is a sentiment usually used by adults to attempt to subdue a child's fear of something, usually insects. However it's interesting in the fact that it brings up the idea that this culture that has caused so much damage and harm is actually incredibly fragile, and would, in theory be very afraid of the concept of the individual, because if this ‘culture’ is only being held together by the silent agreeance that everyone will simply pretend, then the idea that there is people who refuse throws the whole idea into jeopardy.

This line is followed up however, by the line that blends it into the chorus. “Go on drink that-”, clearly intended to be finished by the first line of the chorus, making the full line, “go on drink that blood”.

This line is in reference to the phrase “drink the kool-aid” which essentially means to pledge your undying loyalty to something, a concept, a person, a god, etc. and it derives from an infamous mass cult suicide where over 900 people drank poisoned Kool-Aid and subsequently died for the cult. It is not a far cry to believe that this event and this phrase is what the line is referring to, as it's something that Wood has referenced in other songs, so it only makes sense to believe that this is what he means here.

After that chorus we move on to the bridge, which begins by listing 3 pairs of names, all famous or semi famous, and each pair being similar in one right but opposite in another, the line goes as follows; “were you Nabokov to a Sallinger, were you Jung to Freud or Dass to a Leary”, so let's break down these pairs one by one.

First “Nabokov to a Sallinger”, these names belong to Vladimir Nabokov and J.D. Sallinger, both authors who wrote famous books that both surround the theme of innocence, but in very different ways. Nabokov’s book “Lolita” is a story told from the perspective of a grown man about his sexual obsession and attraction to a little girl, and his desire to ruin her innocence, exploring the theme of innocence in a grotesque and frankly horrifying way, which is in stark contrast to Sallinger’s book “The Catcher in the Rye”, which explores the topic of innocence through the main characters desire to preserve their little sisters innocence, and in that desire displays hesitancy at the idea of sex themself. Both books explore the topic of innocence, however while one seeks to preserve it, the other seeks to destroy it, two sides of the same coin.

The next pairing is “Jung to Freud”, meaning Carl Gustav Jung and his mentor Sigmund Freud, who once again are similar in one right, but opposite in another. Jung and Freud both had theories on the nature of the human mind, but where Jungs was all about the concept of spirituality and how that ties into the collective unconscious, Freud's approach was much more focused on the individual unconscious and the concept of sexuality.

The final pairing is “Dass to a Leary”. both psychologists, both at the forefront of the ‘Harvard Psilocybin Project’ (before they both got dismissed from harvard entirely following controversies around the project) Richard Alpert and Timothy Leary were both psychologists and eventually authors who studied the effects of psychedelic drugs on the human mind, and while they were co workers they ended up with pretty conflicting views. Dr. Richard Alpert, who apparently ‘died’ and was ‘reborn’ as spiritual guide Ram Dass, centred his teachings heavily around the concept of living in the moment, (in fact his best selling book, written in 1971 was titled ‘Be Here Now’) and he believed that psychedelic drugs were not needed and that a permanent version of the same effects could be achieved through meditation. Whereas Dr. Timothy Leary advocated heavily for the use of psychedelics, believing that LSD specifically had great potential for therapeutic psychiatric use.

All of these pairings and examples utilise the concept of duality and speak on how every coin has two sides, which can easily be tied back to the idea that the picture perfect suburban life is just one side of the coin. This idea is then reinforced by the next line, “were you mother, daughter, subject and author?”, The use of the word ‘and’ here shows that it's possible to be two sides of the same coin at once, just like how this town, which is perfect on one side of the coin, is still terrible on the other side of the coin. The line is stating that it's possible to be both at once.

The very last line in this section is; “you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around”. This line combines a few relatively well known phrases. The first being of course ‘i don’t make the rules’, which can have two distinct meanings. The first is to express a kind of sympathy for someone being punished, and the second is to absolve yourself of the blame for that person being punished, a sort of ‘don't shoot the messenger’ situation.

The ‘rules’ that are likely being referred to here are the societal norms and expectations forced upon people who reside in these towns, the standard for ‘perfection’.

However, following this sentiment up with the phrase “you just write them down” is essentially saying that while it's not the fault of the people in these towns, they didn't create the norms, they still enforce them. They expect everything to be in line and perfect at all times, they follow these ‘rules’ to a T, and they shun and punish anyone who doesn't fit the standard and/or refuses to follow these ‘rules’, which is where the line “do it by the book you throw around” comes in, doing something ‘by the book’ means to follow rules strictly and to the letter, nothing out of line, and to throw the book at someone means to punish them as severely as possible, usually used in the legal sense to mean punishing someone for their crime as severely as the law will allow. So in all, the lyric “you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around” ends up meaning ‘you didn't create these norms but you still enforce them by following them to an absolute T and punishing anyone who doesn't.’

With that we enter the third and final section of the song, entitled ‘Love Me, Normally’, a title it shares with another song on the album, but of course this song is partially meant to serve as an overture for the whole album, meaning it shares some similar lyrics with lyrics from other songs on the album, so sharing a title isn't all that surprising.

The first lyric in this section is “do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash and burn?” which is another instance of duality in this song. Trailblazing or being a trailblazer means doing something no one has done before, paving the way for other people to follow in your footsteps, it comes from the literal act of creating a trail in the woods for people to follow, usually by creating notches in trees or setting small fires, hence ‘blazer’, as blaze is another word for a fire. However “slash and burn” is a method of deforestation that involves cutting down and burning a section of forest to create a field. Both examples include using fire to change something, but where one is seen as progress and positive, the other is negative, and seen as a means of destruction. Once again, two sides of the same coin, innovation and destruction.

This is followed up with the line “going against the grain and catching splinters”, which is a line i particularly like because while it is something that literally can happen, if you run your hand along wood in the opposite direction to the grain, you're more likely to get a splinter because you're essentially pushing your hand against the chips of wood, but it also is another metaphor for the dangers of not being the same. Going against the grain in this instance means daring to be different, not going the same way everyone else is going but instead the opposite of that, and in this example splinters are the consequences one would face for being different, especially in a setting like this perfect town, where everyone is the exact same as everyone else.

A little bit later you hear the line “well Lot he had his lot in life, Job his job and i guess you’ll too, and die”.

Lot and Job are both figures found in the Bible, whose names both share spelling with common English words, but are pronounced slightly differently.

Job, from the Book of Job, was a man that was tested by God, made to suffer to test his loyalty, his ‘job’ was to believe unendingly in God and see Him as always correct no matter what.

Lot, from the Book of Genesis, was a man who went through a lot, and the phrase ‘my lot in life’ is a phrase commonly used by people to write off/explain why they don't have it as good as others, they say it's simply their ‘lot in life’.

The end of this line “i guess you’ll too, and die” i believe refers to the fact that everyone will have their own job and their own lot in life, and then everyone in the end will die.

This theory is solidified by the fact that the next line is “The Lord looked down and said ‘hey, you're only mortal’” which is a play off of the phrase ‘you're only human’. Wood himself said that the phrase ‘you're only human’ has always felt weird to him, he says, “cause like, of course I am, aren’t we all? How is that fact supposed to help? I still feel bad. What does being human mean to you?”. He follows this up by saying that the idea of God saying "hey, you're only mortal" offers the same kind of sentiment, but in a “cosmically condescending” sort of way.

The following line reads “giveth and taketh away, till things come out a certain way, leave you wondering when they might go back to normal… leave you wondering why they can't have just been normal”.

This line presents a sort of hopelessness in the realisation that things are constantly changing, nothing is any more ‘normal’ than anything else, there's no such thing as ‘normal’, which is an overarching theme found throughout the album. Once again bringing back the fact that for all intents and purposes this song is an overture for the rest of the album.

To conclude, ‘Suburbia Overture’ is, in my opinion, one of the greatest criticisms of suburban, middle class, gated community, nuclear family life i've ever seen, it highlights the problems in that life and showcases how this kind of lifestyle in its incredibly rigid and restrictive standards is incredibly harmful to the very concept of individuality, because the expectations and unspoken rules set in communities like this and the widespread idea of forced normality seeks to crush any individuality before it even has a chance to blossom.

The use of metaphors and phrases that are well known and are likely to be seen in settings such as this gated community suburban town that Wood has created really paint a subconscious picture of what this community looks like, the use of duality, how every story has another side, and how nothing that is seemingly perfect from the outside is actually perfect on the inside.

Will Wood is an incredible lyricist and the fact that he was able to cram so much symbolism and such a powerful message into a song just over 6 minutes long is genuinely incredible.

Thank you for listening to my/reading my autistic hyper fixated rambling, i hope i didn't melt your brain too badly <3

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diagonal-queen · 2 years

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how i think bsd characters would hug: ada edition

atsushi: his hugs would be relatively standard but they’d be so comforting! he’s a person who would give you one little extra squeeze before letting go ♡ his hugs vary in length but if you wanted it he could cling to you for hours.

dazai: he doesn’t seem like a hugger to me, unless you’re his s/o, so i guess you’re lucky to receive them! dazai’s hugs would be gentle and protective. he would rub your back and talk to you while he hugs you (mostly affirmative and comforting stuff). tucks your head under his chin.

kunikida: i love this man to the moon and back but his hugs would probably be bad at first. i’m sorry but he’d give you like a pat on the back and that would be it T-T as your s/o though he would give really good firm hugs. it’d feel like you’re being shielded with safety and support ♡ in other words, an ideal hug.

jun’ichiro: he would give tight hugs that make you feel wanted and that really emphasise his gratitude for your existence. though if you hugged him for too long you might start turning blue. other than that he’d give you SUPERB shoulder rubs.

naomi (platonic): her hugs are the ones that you never see coming, and probably wouldn’t be too appreciated if you didn’t expect them. they suffocate you. but when you need a good tight hug you’d be hard pressed to find a better candidate than naomi ♡

ranpo: ranpo wraps his arms around your neck/back and just tugs you into him. he buries his face in your neck and crushes you to death like you’re a plushie or a body pillow. he softens when you hug him back, and he taps his fingers on your back while he’s hugging you.

yosano: yosano gives hugs the same way a mother does. like she’ll just let you listen to her heartbeat while she strokes her hands through your hair and pats your back. she also talks to you when hugging you. overall, her hugs make you feel calm and safe. help im simping i want her

kyoka (platonic): her hugs are uncertain at first and are a little loose, but the closer to you she gets the tighter and more desperate her hugs are. kyoka’s hugs SCREAM ‘i’m glad you’re here with me’. hug her back please, she deserves it ♡

kenji (platonic): kenji thinks he’s giving you a regular ol’ hug. in reality he is suffocating you. please tell him he’s suffocating you, he’ll smile and give you a little apology and loosen his grip. once he does it’ll be a nice hug! kenji radiates comfort energy.

haruno (platonic): haruno is probably the perfect hugger. she gives the best hugs! they’re always as chill or as intense as you need them to be, and you can feel her love every time she hugs you. when she’s excited she’d hug similar to naomi.

katai: his hugs are unintentionally a bit too much. like he will wrap his entire wingspan around you like a shield. his intentions are to make you feel loved, and although he’s an awkward hugger the message definitely gets across ♡ if you’re in his futon together he’d squish you like a body pillow.

fukuzawa: he isn’t a firm hugger but he isn’t a loose hugger if that makes sense? he’ll place his hands on your back or on your head and make you feel appreciated. his hugs are an indirect promise to protect you, always. give him a random squeeze and you might just surprise him.

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nanowrimo · 8 months

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A Message from the NaNoWriMo Board of Directors

Dear NaNoWriMo Community Members,

Thank you for reaching out to us with your inquiries about the forums, your support, offers to volunteer, and your legitimate concerns.

Our inbox has been flooded, and we appreciate all of the thoughtful responses from participants and volunteers who genuinely care about NaNoWriMo, our fellow writers, and the community as we do. It is impossible to respond to each message individually, but we wanted to let you all know we are working with purpose and sincerity.

Please see below the breakdown of the work that has been done since we last shared an update with the community. Our intention is to keep you abreast of all we are doing to make NaNoWriMo a better, safer, place:

We’ve overseen a full-scale review of business practices led by former Board Member, Kilby Blades, who has stepped in to assist the organization on an interim basis.

We’ve begun to implement new procedures around community safety, including:

Full revision and legal review of our employee handbook and codes of conduct.

Full revision and legal review of our Municipal Liaison(ML) agreement.

Development of a formal contract agreement for all (non-ML) Volunteers.

Development of a stricter vetting process for all volunteers (which includes identity verification and background checks, wherever necessary).

Licensing of a digital constituent management system that will enhance volunteer management capabilities.

Comprehensive background checks for all current employees.

Checks and balances to ensure that standards of conduct and ethics are adhered to (e.g., better leadership training, volunteer training, tech mechanisms, and active oversight).

We’ve made staffing changes and revised our staffing plan.

We have rescoped certain roles and initiated some staffing changes. (However, certain employees who left the organization voluntarily are in pursuit of their next opportunities.)

We believe that learning from this moment through addressing skill gaps in the organization is healthy and we will go through a hiring process to fill necessary gaps in open roles.

We’ve listened to other community feedback and are still in listening mode.

We’ve disabled the mechanism on the YWP website that allows users to self-identify as educators for the purpose of creating classrooms, and we are researching mechanisms that will allow us to verify adults as educators.

We’ve revised our technology roadmap to address usability issues and are hoping to introduce new features in 2024.

We are midway through a deep dive on forums and forum moderation; this has included benchmarking with other organizations with similar challenges.

In February, we will hold focus groups for continuing MLs. We are also thinking through the logistics of Town Hall meetings and other gatherings.

We’ve processed dozens of pages of community member feedback and are integrating it into our thinking.

With the staffing changes mentioned above, we are open to hearing from those of you who have reached out with offers to help and/or be a part of the organization’s future. Get notified about future job opportunities at NaNoWriMo.

We are excited about the future, and expect it to be brighter! We hope you feel seen and heard, and that you will stick with us as we continue supporting the writing community and our organization.

Kind regards,

NaNoWriMo Board of Directors

#nanowrimo #by nano hq #board of directors

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jahayla-parker · 1 year

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Crazed : Tom Holland x Reader

Descr: 8k wc, A crazed fan breaks into Tom's house when his girlfriend is home and she has to defend herself until Tom's security gets there.

Warnings: curse words, violence, stalker/crazy fan behavior, hostage situation, threats, danger, mentions of a break-in, (minor) injuries, hospital (brief), knife/blade, keys used as weapon.

Y/n rubbed her boyfriend Tom’s shoulders as he pinched the bridge of his nose. She knew he was stressing out over the recent safety concerns that had arisen for the couple. Y/n knew that Tom would handle it; even before the multiple promises he made to do so. But, she still wanted to wipe the frown off his face as he called his security team.

They had recently been made aware that there was an… overzealous fan of Tom’s that posed a risk to the couple’s safety. Tom’s brother and personal assistant Harry, had noticed someone was following them one afternoon. They contacted Tom’s security team immediately and had them look into it.

Allegedly, when the security personnel asked the fan to stop following the couple, things escalated. The fan had made numerous comments that concerned Tom’s security. The first was the fan’s statement on how they were Tom’s one true love; not y/n. The second was when the same fan commented that y/n needed to learn her place and stay away from Tom. Then of course came the standard stalkerish fan remarks such as claiming she knew where the couple had been at any given moment, that she had a shrine of Tom with photos that no one else had seen as she’d taken them herself, and that she was in love with Tom and knew he’d come around and choose her.

It wasn’t like Tom had no former experience with overzealous fans. But this was on a whole other level. The fact that this fan made his own security concerned for y/n, made Tom panic. Between his team's and his own suggestions, Tom had ensured that they always had at least two security guards with them.

Tom felt guilty for having to limit their privacy even more than normal when going on dates, or whenever they simply left the house. But, he refused to let something happen to y/n. Which was why he had to call his security team again today.

Earlier today Y/n had gotten a call from an unknown number. She always ignored calls from unknown numbers. As such, y/n had let the call go to voicemail. However, when she checked her voicemail, y/n felt the same panic Tom had been experiencing.

The fan who Tom had been worried about for several weeks by then had somehow found y/n’s personal phone number. Y/n knew it wasn’t super rare for celebrities and their friends and family to have their personal information leaked. But, the message that the fan left was very troubling.

The girl had threatened to harm y/n if she didn’t break up with Tom. She even went so far as to show she had the address of y/n’s work; as ‘proof to take her seriously’. The fan also had the address of y/n’s last residence. Y/n and Tom began living together months ago. But, technically y/n’s old apartment was still in her name as the lease wasn’t up for another month and a half.

When y/n told Tom about the voicemail, he immediately asked her to play it for him. His fury and fear skyrocketed as he heard the passion behind the fan’s voice. He couldn’t believe this was happening to begin with, much less to this extent. Tom was adamant something had to be done, starting with calling his security and demanding increased protection for y/n.

“We need to increase y/n’s security,” Tom ordered immediately upon his lead security officer answering his call. He felt y/n rest her head on his shoulder, rubbing his arm to try and calm him. Tom crooked his neck and placed a soft kiss to y/n’s head as he listened to his security guard’s response.

“No, you don’t understand,” Tom groaned, standing up from the couch. He began pacing their living room as he tried to keep himself in check. He couldn’t understand why his security wasn’t just listening to him. Y/n needed more security, immediately. “I’m going to send you something,” Tom said, pulling the phone from his ear just long enough to forward the threatening voicemail.

“Tommy,” y/n whispered as Tom put the phone back up to his ear as he waited on a response. She smiled warmly at him when he looked her way. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “breathe please”.

Tom nodded in response to y/n’s request. He took a few deep breaths as he faintly heard the voicemail being played in the background. Tom hummed as he heard his security guard call for another officer to look into the voicemail. “See?” Tom asked in frustration, “she needs more security”.

Y/n watched as Tom nodded along to whatever his security was suggesting. She sighed in relief at seeing his lessening worry. She didn’t know what they were telling Tom, but it was helping. Y/n kissed Tom’s neck right under his earlobe as she waited for him to end the call and update her.

“Tom, look, I know you’re worried, but-” y/n sighed. Tom wanted her to not go in to work today. To be fair, it was a suggestion from his security when he called them last night, but Tom jumped on board with the idea without hesitation.

Tom frowned. “You’re not going to stay home?” He asked, his voice sad and eyes worried. “Please?” Tom requested, squeezing y/n’s hand.

Y/n pursed her lips. “I have work, T,” she argued softly.

“I know,” Tom agreed. “And I’m sorry, I dragged you into this -".

Y/n shook her head, “no. This isn’t on you Tom. I’ve told you that”. She sighed, “but, that doesn’t mean I can just stay stuck at home all day every day until this...overzealous fan chills out”.

“Overzealous?!” Tom huffed. “Darling, she’s bloody crazy!” He exclaimed. “This isn’t some slightly obsessed fan, she’s insane and she wants to hurt you.”

Y/n bit her lip and nodded. He was right. The voicemail had truly scared her. And she knew Tom knew that. Even if he hadn’t already been protective before, he certainly would’ve become so upon seeing how much it freaked her out.

“Just for today?” Tom pleaded. “I’m already working on a more long-term solution,” he assured her.

Y/n sighed softly as she thought it over. She didn’t have a ton to do at work today, so perhaps it wouldn’t be the end of the world. “Okay, if it will make you happy, I’ll stay home today,” she accepted.

Tom grinned and pulled y/n in for a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he gushed. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’ll try to come home for lunch, and-" Tom rambled.

Y/n giggled. She rubbed Tom’s chest as she leaned back. “Handsome, you don’t need to do that,” she smiled. “Just focus on your scenes and rest between them, we both know you haven’t been doing that much. Hmm?”.

Tom nodded, he’d been spending most of his time between takes and scenes getting on his security about finding out who this crazy fan was and doing whatever was needed to stop them. “Okay, but,” he replied, smiling, “I’m still going to call during my lunch and check-up”.

Y/n hummed lovingly, stroking Tom’s cheeks tenderly. “You have a deal, sweetheart.”

“Okay, so, you’ll arm the security system after I leave?” Tom asked y/n.

Y/n nodded, “yes”.

“And, you have Jones’s number saved, right?” Tom wondered as he mentally made his way through his checklist. Jones was one of his security guards and Tom had requested that he be on call nearby in case something happened. Or if y/n simply felt scared that it could/would.

“Saved and set as a favorite for easy access,” y/n promised. She neared her boyfriend and set her hands on his shoulders. “Everything is in place honey.”

Tom took a shaky breath and nodded. He really didn’t want to leave her alone, but he had to go to set. He was nearly done with filming and then they’d be able to go wherever. Y/n had reminded him of that when he considered taking the day off. The sooner he was done, the sooner they could go back to Europe -for at least as long as it took until the fan was taken care of.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious about y/n being home alone. But, at his security pointed out, the fan had given the address for y/n’s old apartment, her job, and has been seen on set before. This was the safest place for her. As far as they are aware, there was no reason to believe the fan has knowledge of this apartment nor that y/n and Tom even lived together.

“I’m just…” Tom sighed. He knew he was going overboard in his preparations. But he couldn’t help it, he needed to know y/n would be safe.

Y/n gave Tom a quick kiss. “Worried, sweet, adorable, I know,” she grinned. “But you’re also about to be late,” y/n giggled playfully. “So, go, get there safely, kick ass on your scenes, and we’ll talk at lunch?”

Tom smiled and nodded, holding y/n to his chest for another hug. “Alright love, I’ll call you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too,” y/n said. She pulled back from the hug and kissed Tom’s forehead. “Let me know when you get to set,” she added as Tom made his way to his car. Y/n waved goodbye before she closed the door.

Y/n quickly armed the security system. She sighed to herself before looking around as she tried to decide what to do on her unplanned day off. Y/n walked to the bedroom to change into pajamas and grab some large and comfortable blankets.

When y/n returned to the living room, she found Tom had texted her saying he’d made it to set. She smiled and sent a quick reply before settling herself on their couch. Y/n flicked the television on and scrolled through their digital movies until she landed on Uncharted. She smirked to herself and sent a photo of her movie choice to Tom before she pressed play and relaxed under her blankets.

“You okay?” Harry asked, squinting at his brother. “You seem tense and you keep saying the wrong lines,” he pointed out. Harry was not just Tom’s brother but also his personal assistant and therefore it was his job to see to whatever was bothering him. “What’s going on?”

Tom sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing as he realized he realized he’d just messed up the makeup the crew put on him. “It’s just…” he mumbled, looking around the set before pulling his brother to the side. “You know that crazy fan?” He asked. When Harry nodded, Tom continued. “Well, they get y/n’s number and left her a threatening message”.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Is she okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I mean, she was when I left. And, Jones hasn’t reached out to say that’s changed… But, I just…. It’s hard to clear my mind and focus,” Tom admitted.

“I get that mate, but you can’t know what’s going on if you don’t ask,” Harry said. “So, instead of stressing for likely no reason, why don’t you text her between scenes and see what she’s up to?“ he suggested.

Tom smiled and hugged his brother. “That’s a great idea mate, thank you!” He held out his hand and waited for Harry to pass him his phone.

Harry chuckled and quickly took Tom’s phone from his pocket. “Here ya are,” he said with a playful eye roll.

“Oh,” Tom chuckled. He felt his cheeks flush as he looked at the last message from his girlfriend.

“Ewww, if that’s a sext, you need to get better at hiding your reaction,” Harry groaned.

Tom glared at Harry as he shook his head. “No!” He scolded. “Apparently she’s having a movie day…” Tom mumbled bashfully.

“Okay? And…?” Harry questioned.

Tom tilted his phone so Harry could see the text thread. His blush darkened as his brother laughed and shook his head at y/n's choice of movies for the day.

“You two are gross,” Harry teased. “Ready to try this scene again now?” He asked, trying to guide Tom back to set.

Tom smiled to himself. He quickly replied to y/n’s text and passed his phone back to Harry. “Yeah, I am now,” Tom nodded.

Y/n yawned as she rose from the floor. She’d made a blanket fort earlier to watch movies in. But now, her legs were numb and tingly from the position she’d been in. Y/n tiredly made her way to the kitchen for some snacks. While she hadn’t done much today, she was exhausted. It seemed doing nothing let her body realize how tired she’d been lately.

Y/n groaned lightly upon seeing that Tom had left a nearly empty milk carton in the fridge. She had just gotten groceries, not knowing they needed milk since the n carton was still in the fridge. Y/n made a mental note to get more milk tomorrow, or tonight after Tom got home from set. She poured the last of it in her cereal bowl before going to throw the carton away.

Only, as she went to place the carton in the garbage, y/n noticed it was full. She quickly calculated what day it was and realized it was garbage day. Y/n decided to go put on some slippers so she could take the garbage out.

Y/n returned to the kitchen and tied the trash bag closed. She smiled to herself knowing Tom wouldn’t have to deal with taking the bag out tonight when he got home and instead could relax. It was the least she could do since she knew he was worrying about her more than usual today.

Y/n disarmed the security system so that her opening the back door wouldn’t trip the alarm. That was the last thing Tom needed while trying to focus on his job. She was careful though to shut the door behind her and lock it so no one could enter while she was walking to the alley to dispose of the bag. Y/n figured it was overkill, but she knew Tom would be happier knowing she’d done it.

Y/n was sure to be quick with throwing the bag in the can outside. She smiled when she noticed their neighbors’ cans hadn’t been picked up yet; she hadn’t missed pickup. Y/n cautiously looked around before walking back to her apartment.

Y/n felt some anxiety as she unlocked her back door, feeling like someone could sneak up behind her. As a result, she quickly rushed inside and locked it again. Y/n let out a sigh and decided to refocus on her movie day, designating it as a seemingly needed distraction. She grabbed her bowl of sugary cereal with little milk and headed back to her blanket fort in the living room.

Y/n paused the movie, having thought she heard something in the kitchen. She peered into the kitchen doorway from her seat and didn’t see anything. Y/n wanted to go back to her movie, but her gut told her something wasn’t right.

Y/n elected it was safest to fully check on the sound she thought she heard. So, she grabbed her phone, pulling up the favorites section of her contacts as she anxiously made her way to the kitchen. She stopped halfway there, realizing she didn’t have anything to protect herself with. Unfortunately, her ideal choice of weapon would be found in the kitchen. Y/n settled for her keys, holding them in her other hand as she resumed her quest to find the source of the sound she’d heard.

A gasp escaped y/n’s mouth as she entered the kitchen. There was a pile of broken glass underneath the back door on the far side of the room. Y/n didn’t see anyone in the room but knew this wasn’t a good sign. She hadn’t been wrong about having heard a sound, nor about the need to check on it. And, considering the broken glass had come not too long after the voicemail incident, y/n was worried they were related.

Y/n didn’t want to take her eyes off the kitchen in case someone appeared, but she suspected she should call Jones. She blindly tried to pull up his number as she stared at the back door. Y/n cautiously walked towards the knife block, hoping to grab a better weapon than her keys. Except, before y/n could get to even the halfway point, someone’s hand reached in through the broken glass on the door and unlocked the handle.

Y/n looked around for an alternative weapon since she was too far from the knife block. But, she quickly ran out of time as the person had flung the door open and entered her apartment. Y/n’s eyes widened and she began to step back. She wanted to run but she didn’t want to aggravate the girl before her. Plus, the safest way to run would be to run outside, but the girl was blocking that door.

The intruder was wearing a homemade Tom Holland shirt, making it even more obvious she was the stalkerish fan. The girl’s hair and makeup was overly done up, as if she was going out on a date or to an event. She was glaring aggressively at y/n as she walked further into the kitchen.

Once y/n sensed she’d backed up enough to make it to the doorway to the living room, she turned and bolted from the kitchen. She scolded herself as she realized her blanket fort in the living room now provided a large obstacle, blocking her from easy access to the front door. Before y/n could decide if she could crash through the mess of blankets and furniture supporting them, she heard the fan’s loud footsteps running after her.

Y/n sharply turned the corner and started to the stairs. She looked down at her phone as she ran, clicking on Jones’ contact. Just as y/n’s finger went to press call, she felt a hand on her ankle. She screeched as she tugged her foot away and tried to stumble up the rest of the stairs.

Y/n kept running up the stairs as the fan angrily screamed her name. She once again tried to call Jones, only this time she tripped on one of Tom’s shoes that had been left on the staircase. In her attempt to not lose her balance and fall down the steps, y/n used her hand to push herself back up. Only, this caused her phone to slip from her hands and tumble down the stairs. Y/n fell to the ground as she turned to grab the device. Except, she wasn’t quick enough.

Y/n silently watched in terror as her lifeline bounced past the crazed fan on the stairs. She froze as she saw the glint of the knife the fan had in her hand. Y/n swallowed thickly and decided her best bet was to try and lock herself in the bathroom and scream; hoping the neighbors would hear and call the police. She quickly stood back up and turned around. “HELP!” Y/n shouted, hoping by chance a window was open.

“I just want to talk!” The fan replied, bouncing up the steps after y/n.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Y/n yelled back, finally mounting the stairs. She rushed towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. A painful scratch on the back of her right shoulder caused y/n to stop. Y/n knew instantly from the way there were four simultaneous scratches that the fan had used her acrylic nails to scrape at y/n.

Y/n hissed in pain and spun around to try and fight off the fan. She fortunately still had her keys in her fist. As such, she lunged forward and dug them against the fan’s face. Y/n used the fan’s shock to turn and run the rest of the way to the bathroom.

As y/n tried to shut the bathroom door, she was blocked by the fan’s foot. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” she shouted, trying to shove the girl’s foot out of the way. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!”

“JUST LET ME TALK!” The fan argued, pushing against the bathroom door.

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK!” Y/n groaned. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” she asked, slamming the door repeatedly against the fan’s leg as the girl banged on the other side of the bathroom door.

“YOU STOLE MY ONE TRUE LOVE!” the fan screamed, the knife stabbing the door.

Y/n flinched backward as the knife sliced into the thin wooden door separating her from the crazy fan. During y/n’s brief reaction, the fan shoved the door open. Y/n fell backward onto the ground. She shouted again in desperation, praying someone heard her.

The fan stood over y/n with a furious expression. “YOU. STOLE. TOM. FROM. ME.” She seethed, leaning closer to y/n as she was flat on her back against the bathroom floor.

Y/n lifted her arms over her head to shield her face. “GO AWAY!” she shouted, kicking at the fan. Y/n gasped as the fan grabbed ahold of y/n’s hair. She used her keys to scratch the fan’s arm of the hand she was holding y/n with.

“STOP FIGHTING ME!” The fan complained, tugging on y/n’s hair. She used her other hand to try and pry the keys from y/n’s hand.

Y/n stared at the fan in bewilderment. “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY!” She cried, continuing her kicking and scratching. Y/n faintly heard her phone ringing from the other room. She silently pleaded with the universe for it to be Tom checking on her. If it was, she knew he’d send security over if she didn’t answer.

The crazed fan continued to fight with y/n until y/n spat at her in an attempt to get the girl to back up enough for y/n to get off the floor. The fan glared and hissed at y/n. “THAT’S IT!” She shouted, grabbing the knife from where she’d set it on the bathroom counter; out of reach from y/n. She dropped to her knees and placed the blade against y/n’s throat.

Y/n gulped as terror shot though every fiber of her being. She could keep using her keys, especially now that the girl was close enough for y/n to jab them into her eyes. Only, the knife against her throat made y/n worry the fan wouldn’t hesitate to push the blade into her as a response to such an attempt.

“Drop it, or I’ll make you regret it,” The fan threatened. She smirked when y/n shakingly let go of the keys.

“Okay…” y/n mumbled, wincing as her neck grazed against the knife’s blade as she spoke. “Y-you wanted to t-talk?” She asked rhetorically. “W-we can talk,” y/n offered. Hopefully, she could keep the fan talking long enough for help to reach her.

“No!” The fan scoffed. “I don’t want to talk,” she snarked.

Y/n tried to lean back from the blade, the firm tile of the bathroom floor not allowing her much relief. “B-but, you said-,” y/n argued.

“That was before this!” The fan shouted. She raised her non dominant hand, letting go of y/n’s hair.

Y/n noticed the blood dripping from the fan’s arm. She looked back up at the fan with fearful eyes. “Then… wha-what do you want?” Y/n asked, trying to slide backwards on the tile so she could at least use the wash to sit herself up.

“STOP MOVING YOU STUPID BITCH!” The fan scolded. “I love that man, but I swear he’s an idiot, I don’t how you tricked him into thinking he loves you, but I’m going to help him see the truth.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she froze. She didn’t know what else there was to do at this point. She’d tried to fight but was out armed. She tried to scream but no one heard. She tried to call security but her phone fell. The only thing left was to try and get the crazy fan to drop her guard slightly.

“I… I… I’m sorry… I…” y/n lied, trying to appear weak and like the fan had cracked her. “What can I d-d-do?” She pleaded with fake tears. “H-how can I h-help? Please, I’ll do anything,” y/n fibbed.

“You- you want to help me?” The fan questioned hesitantly.

Y/n nodded, wincing as the blade scratched her skin. “I.. I had my fun…” she mumbled, hating herself for even lying about it. “I… you’re clearly better for him..”.

“Really?” The fan smiled. “You admit I’m better for Tom?” She asked dreamily.

Bingo. Y/n nodded faintly again, not wanting to say it.

The fan seemed to pick up on y/n’s reasoning. “Say it,” The fan barked.

“W-what?” Y/n questioned.

“Say that I’m better for Tom, that he’d be happier with me,” The fan ordered.

Y/n swallowed, the knot on her throat hitting the blade of the knife still pressed against her. She felt nauseous and her eyes prickled with tears. Tom was the actor, not y/n. But, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Y-you’re better for Tom,” y/n mumbled. She hoped her shaky voice and watery eyes came across as fake remorse and sorrow for the fan rather than the fear and guilt she felt. When the fan stared at y/n expectantly, y/n fought the desire to tremble as she stared back in terror. “H-he… To-Tom,” y/n corrected herself not wanting to further upset the girl by being vague, “Tom would be happier with you”.

The fan smirked with pride. She tilted her head mockingly at y/n. “I’m glad you finally see it,” The fan commented. “Now, we just need to work on what you’ll say when he gets here.”

“What? He’s-he’s not coming,” y/n stated fearfully. She hoped she was right. She wanted Tom to call security, but she didn’t want Tom to get himself caught up in this dangerous situation.

“Of course he’s coming. He thinks he loves you,” the fan sighed. “He’s wrong, of course.” The fan rolled her eyes. “But no worry, because once we show him that you don’t actually love him like he deserves, he’ll choose me, his true love,” she grinned.

Y/n tensed. “S-show him… That I-“ she mumbled.

“You’ll see. You’re going to tell him that you don’t love him,” The fan explained.

“Or…” y/n whispered, her voice cracking. She knew she’d likely lost her ruse, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to be forced to lie to Tom; especially about this.

“Or, I’ll remove you from the picture myself,” the fan warned. “Then he’ll finally be all mine,” She smiled.

Y/n willed herself not to cry, she had to figure out a way out of this. There was no doubt even if y/n didn’t make of it, the girl would kill Tom too once she saw Tom wasn’t going to fall in love with her the way she thought. Y/n refused to let that happen. She needed to get her and Tom out of this.

Tom ran his hand down his face as he tried dialing y/n’s number again. He’d tried twice already with no response. Granted, they were back to back, so if she was busy with something, there’d been little time to finish and answer the phone. But surely, by him calling a third time, y/n would get the seriousness behind his calls and drop whatever she’d been doing.

Tom felt his whole body go numb as his third call went to voicemail. He closed his eyes as his fear reached an all time high. He looked around to tell someone he had to leave but didn’t see Harry in the hall. Tom didn’t want to waste anymore time so he decided to just leave.

Tom ran to the set door and grabbed his jacket, yanking his keys out before dashing out the door. He threw open his car door and jumped in. He quickly dialed Jones’s phone as he sped out of the parking lot. Tom sighed when Jones didn’t answer, maybe he was already with y/n then.

Tom was only seconds from their street when Jones called him back. “Is y/n okay?! Is she with you?!” He asked after hitting accept. Tom felt a chill rush through him when Jones stated he had no idea what Tom was talking about.

Tom quickly took the corner, speeding even more as he drove closer to his apartment. “Just meet me at my house, NOW!” He shouted as he pulled into the driveway. Tom vaguely noticed Jones commenting that he and another officer were on their way.

When he threw open the front door and didn’t hear an alarm go off, Tom felt his tears rising even more. He clumsily rushed past the blanket fort y/n had made in the living room. “Y/N?! LOVE?!” Tom yelled, moving further into the apartment.

Tom glanced in the kitchen to see if the back door showed any signs of damage. Since the front door was still locked and closed, he hoped he was overreacting. Maybe y/n was just taking a nap.

Tom’s tears fell down his cheeks as he found the broken glass and open back door. “No, no, no, no, no,” he mumbled. He rushed back to the living room. “Please,” Tom whimpered.

Tom went to go up the stairs, stopping when something cracked under his foot. He slowly raised his leg and looked down. He winced as he noticed it was y/n’s phone. Tom lifted it up and saw she’d pulled up Jones’s contact. He felt his heart drop as he faintly heard a struggle upstairs.

Tom threw y/n’s phone down and bolted up the staircase. “Y/N!!” He screamed, taking the stairs three at a time. “PLEASE ANSWER ME!” He pleaded breathily as he reached the top. Tom froze as his head snapped towards the bathroom.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Tom belted, sprinting to the end of the hall. “HEY!” He yelled, going to pull on the girl standing over his girlfriend. Tom’s breath hitched as he saw the blade pressed against y/n’s throat.

Tom froze as he stared in fear. He could see the terror and distraught in y/n’s eyes as she was pinned to the ground at knifepoint. Tom breath was shaky as his hands were fisted at his side. He tried to shoot his girlfriend a remorseful look, uncertain if she could see it from her angle. And then, he turned his eyes towards the girl holding her hostage as his eyes lit with fury.

“Back. Away. From. Her. Now.” Tom seethed, his jaw tight as he stared down the crazy fan.

“Tom! Oh my gosh,” The fan gushed. “Hi! Sorry for the mess, Uhh,” she giggled, “not to worry, I’m sure y/n will help clean it up after”.

Tom squinted harshly at the girl. “After? After what?” He asked dreadfully. He tried to look around the girl to see how y/n was doing. His eyes widened upon seeing drops of blood on the white tile flooring. Tom glanced back at the fan, “please. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Take it!” He pleaded.

“Is it money?” Tom questioned, “you can have it. Call my brother and he’ll help get it all out from the bank for you”.

Y/n tried to speak, but her voice was muffled as the fan pressed the flat edge against her more forcefully in warning. She squirmed and debated whether she should try and fight the fan off again now that Tom was here.

“Y/n,” Tom whimpered. “Don’t, please,” he begged, “I’ve got this”. Tom looked back towards the fan with his hands held up. “Just call him, his name is in my phone-".

“Harry, duh. I know your brother’s name, silly,” the fan laughed. “I know all their names! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?!” She shook her head in disbelief.

Tom tried to resist looking confused as he slowly nodded. “Okay…” he mumbled, “so… then uhh,.. Yeah, call him and he’ll get you however much you want. It’s all yours. Just, let y/n go, please”.

“I don’t want your money,” the fan tsked.

“You.. you don’t?” Tom sighed in frustration. “Then wh-what do you want?” He asked hopelessly. “Merch? Harry can get that too. Ummm autographs? Tell me what to sign. Umm, do you want-“ Tom rambled, trying to find a solution.

The crazed fan pouted. “I don’t want anything from you babe,” she answered. “Relax, you don’t have to do anything Tommy bear.”

Tom’s breath wavered as he tried to keep his composure. “Then… then wh-why is my girlfriend on the-?” He stopped himself as the fan glared and turned to y/n, gripping the knife tighter. Tom realized his mistake; this fan claimed in her message that she thought she was his one true love.

“Ex,” the fan hissed, turning back to Tom. “Your ex-girlfriend,” she corrected.

Tom swallowed tensely. Even though the statement was false, it didn’t sit well with him. Even more concerning though was that he had no idea where the fan was going with all of this if she already decided y/n was his ex.

“Don’t worry sweetie,” The girl sighed with what sounded like sympathy. “You’re about to hear why that’s a good thing,” she said. “And I’ll be here to help you through it after.”

Tom opened his mouth to ask what exactly the girl meant when suddenly she was ordering y/n to sit up. He flinched forward instinctively when y/n struggled to get into a seated position. Tom only stopped himself when the fan pressed the knife closer to y/n’s skin, grazing it slightly. Ironically, he wanted to move towards y/n even more after that in order to get the knife away from her, but he knew any movement on his behalf could make things drastically worse in seconds; before he would have time to stop it.

Y/n rested her head against the wall of the bathroom. Her cheek brushed against the toilet paper holder installed beside her on the wall. She couldn’t get herself to look at Tom knowing what the fan was about to make her do. The fan had warned/instructed y/n on it prior to Tom’s arrival.

“Okay, speak,” The fan ordered. She moved infinitesimal to the side so Tom could see y/n clearly.

Y/n closed her eyes and shook her head. She no longer cared about the pain that came with such movement. Y/n felt her tears stream down her face as she tried not to shake. Her stomach was in knots and all she wanted to do was throw up.

“NOW!” The fan shouted, her anger rising at y/n’s lack of cooperation.

Tom flinched at the sudden outburst. He kept his eyes focused on his terrified girlfriend. He watched as her eyes opened and he nodded for her to comply with whatever the fan was saying to do. “Y-y/n, it’s okay, just say it,” Tom pleaded softly.

“See, Tom wants the truth,” the girl remarked. “Now,” she glared at y/n, “tell him”.

Y/n whimpered as she held eye contact with her boyfriend. She saw him silently begging her with his eyes to just do it. Y/n sniffled as she closed her eyes. “I… I… I can’t,” she resisted.

“Do it or I swear!” The girl screeched.

Tom saw the wild look in the girl’s eyes and his fear increased. “Y/n,” he whispered. “I.. I want to hear the truth,” Tom mumbled, playing along with whatever the fan was going for.

Y/n squeezed her eyes tighter and shook. She didn’t want to do this. “I… I don’t….” Y/n mumbled, stopping when the fan yelled for her to use full sentences. “I used you,” She lied.

The words tasted vile as y/n spoke her instructed words aloud. “I.. I don’t love you.” She cried, her resulting movement causing the edge of the blade to seep into her skin. “I-I-I never did. I never l-loved you,” y/n repeated as she’d been told to. She felt her body go limp in defeat after uttering the false but nonetheless hurtful words to Tom.

Tom knew what y/n was saying wasn’t true. But, he could see how badly it hurt her to just repeat them. Nonetheless, he knew he had to play along to get the crazy fan to let y/n go. Fortunately, Tom was already crying.

“O-oh,” Tom whispered with pretend shock. “I… I thought…” he sighed, stepping back in hopes the fan would follow him.

“It’s okay,” the fan soothed. “It’s okay Tommy bear, I’m here for you.” “You don’t need her, I can show you what real love is,” she promised.

Tom noticed the fan had moved closer to him, further from y/n. She was still between the two of them with the knife, but it was no longer at y/n’s throat. Tom wiped his eyes dramatically with a frown. “But… I just…. I can’t believe…” he murmured, taking another few steps down the hall.

The fan sighed. “I know, it’s cruel,” she agreed, “but, aren’t you glad to find out before it was too late?”

Tom shrugged as he yet again moved back some, the fan unconsciously following him. He tried to shoot y/n a sign to be ready to run when the girl eventually exited the bathroom, but y/n wasn’t looking at him. He sighed and quickly improvised. “It’s just…y/n,” Tom whimpered, the fan pouting as he seemingly cried over y/n’s ‘declaration’.

Y/n looked up at hearing Tom say her name. She noticed the way he immediately made eye contact with her and then shifted his gaze to the floor. Y/n looked around and realized the crazy chick and Tom had stepped further into the hall. She was no longer at knifepoint.

Y/n quietly slid her hand toward the keys she’d abandoned earlier. She mentally thanked the girl for being stupid enough to not kick them away. Once she had the keys in reach, y/n took a deep breath as she thought of a game plan. She had to be careful, she didn’t want Tom getting stuck in the crossfire or for the fan to flip out on him in retaliation.

Y/n glanced back up at Tom as she heard him still mumbling about his shock over her statement. In doing so, she noticed a shadow in the staircase. Something she assumed the fan hadn’t seen due to staring crazily at Tom. Y/n took one last deep breath before she silently moved for the keys.

Y/n held the keys in her hands and tried to give Tom a warning glance. She then got onto her knees and leaned forward until she dug the keys into the girl’s leg. Y/n nearly vomited at the force she had to use to puncture the girl’s leg more than just a scratch. But, it was enough for her to get the girl to spin away from Tom.

As the fan turned on y/n, Tom rushed forward to try and grab the knife.

Y/n threw herself back to the ground as she prepared for the knife to contact her.

Before Tom could reach the crazy girl, he heard a buzzing sound and the girl fell to her knees, the knife hitting the ground beside y/n. He snapped his head behind him and saw his security guards standing there, one of whom had tased the fan.

Tom tried to run to y/n but one of the guards stopped him. The one with the taser sidestepped him, likely going to grab the crazy girl. But Tom pushed past both of them and ran to the bathroom. He jumped over the spasming fan in the doorway and fell to his knees beside y/n.

Tom sighed as he saw Y/n was still hunched over, waiting for the impact. “I-It’s just m-me, love,” he whispered tenderly before cautiously placing a hand on her back. When she flinched, he pulled his hand back. But, as y/n turned to look up at him with tears in her eyes, he pulled her to his chest.

“Shhhhh I’ve got you,” Tom cooed, rocking y/n lightly. “You’re safe.” “I’m so sorry”. He repeated these words and similar sentiments as they both cried and held onto each other. Tom faintly heard his security taking the girl away, but he didn’t look away from y/n.

“T-t-To-T-To-“ y/n mumbled, tears still flowing down her face.

“Shhh, you don’t have to talk,” Tom assured her, delicately wiping her cheeks. “I’m here, it’s okay now.”

Y/n shook her head as another sob left her body. “I-I… I didn’t mean it!” She cried. “I swear, T-Tom. I didn’t mean any of what s-she-“.

Tom frowned and pulled y/n back to his chest. He rested his lips on the top of her head as he sighed. “I know darling, I know,” he told her. “I know she made you say it,” Tom acknowledged.

Y/n fisted Tom’s shirt as she cried into his chest. “I … I didn’t… I didn’t want to say it…” she cried. “I didn’t mean it. I swear. I didn’t mean it.” Y/n repeated.

Tom listened respectfully as y/n kept repeating herself. He pressed loving kisses to her scalp as he waited for her to calm down. After a few minutes, Tom began replying with a quiet, “I know” each time y/n promised she hadn’t meant what she said.

Tom didn’t know how long this continued. To him it felt like an eternity having to hear y/n’s choked sobs and needless apologies. But, he noticed she suddenly went quiet. Tom cautiously cupped y/n’s face and tilted it so he could see her eyes.

“I love you,” y/n promised. She gazed up into Tom’s eyes and sniffled. “I love you.”

Tom smiled softly at y/n before giving her a quick kiss. “I love you too,” he whispered.

Y/n took Tom’s face in her hands and needily pulled him in for a longer kiss. She closed her eyes as she sunk her fingers into his hair and held him close. Y/n felt a few more tears leave her eyes as she savored the taste of Tom’s lips.

“Are you hurt?” Tom asked when they pulled back, resting his forehead on y/n’s.

“I.. I don’t think so,” y/n mumbled.

“I...-there was… is…blood on the floor,” Tom argued worryingly.

Y/n pulled back and looked over at the spots Tom was referencing. “Oh, I.. I think that’s hers,” she admitted. “I kinda tore up her arm before you got here,” y/n said, eyeing her keys.

Tom hummed and smiled faintly. “I’m so p-proud of you,” he told y/n. He saw y/n’s disagreement and shook his head. “You kept yourself alive until help could come,” Tom argued. “I s-saw you tried to call Jones, you ran, you fought back, you did what you needed to do to survive.”

Y/n sniffled. “I didn’t want to say that… I shouldn’t have-“.

Tom sighed. “I know you didn’t, and I’m sorry you had to. But that’s just it, you had to,” He pointed out. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m not hurt or mad. I’m thankful you did what you needed to do. I’m thankful you were so strong,” Tom whimpered lightly.

Y/n flattened her lips and nodded. “I’m just glad you’re here. Thank you for c-coming for me.”

“Always. Now, are you sure-” Tom began, stopping suddenly. He abruptly stood up and carefully pulled y/n up with him. “Your neck,” he muttered, gently tilting her chin up for a better view.

“Shit,” Tom hissed, upset he’d momentarily forgotten about seeing the knife slice y/n’s neck. He eyed the thin line with a deep frown. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

Y/n huffed. “Tom, please, I just… I just wanna lay down and sleep,” she cried.

Tom sucked in his lips and nodded in understanding. “Okay. You will,” he promised. “Just after you get that cut looked at,” Tom declared. “Don’t worry, I’m going with you,” he said upon seeing the fear return to y/n’s eyes.

“You didn’t tell me she clawed your back,” Tom sighed, squeezing y/n’s hand as the doctor gave y/n a tetanus booster shot.

“I forgot,” y/n laughed humorously. She sighed, “doesn’t really hurt too much though”.

Tom nodded. “And your throat?” He questioned, eyeing the bandage covering her neck.

“That one hurts like a bitch,” y/n admitted with a quiet laugh. “But, I’ll be fine,” She promised. “But…Tom…. I….” y/n trailed off.

“You what, love?” Tom inquired.

“I don’t really… umm..” y/n sighed and cleared her throat. She immediately winced at the pain that shot through her as a result. Y/n huffed and looked back at Tom, who was watching her with a sorrowful look. “I don’t want to go home… I… I know she’s gone… but…”

Tom nodded rapidly, squeezing y/n’s hand again. “We’re not going back there,” He promised. “W-when the police are umm,… done with their stuff… I’ll have Harry hire some people to help move our stuff out,” Tom stated.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at how Tom had already considered her not wanting to go back there after tonight. “But… Where are we going to stay? You are staying with me still, right?” She asked nervously.

“Of course!” Tom promised. “For now, I can take time off and we can go back to London. Or, we’ll get a hotel or new apartment until the show wraps. Whatever you want darling,” he comforted.

“You need to finish-“ y/n began. She noticed Tom was about to argue with her so she smiled and shook her head. “I want you to finish. But I won’t argue to you taking a few days off right now,” she admitted bashfully.

Tom sighed with relief, not wanting to go back to work just yet. More so, not wanting to be away from y/n again just yet. “Okay, so new place it is, we’ll get a hotel for tonight,” he decided. “Then, figure it out from there,” Tom said softly.

Y/n nodded and smiled lightly at Tom. “Can we go now?” She asked.

Tom chuckled quietly. “Once you’re cleared, darling,” he said, looking at the doctor.

“You’re all patched up, let me just get the discharge paperwork for you to sign and the at-home instructions to take care of your wounds,” the doctor offered with a sympathetic smile. “Then you’re free to go,” he told the couple as he left the room.

Y/n sighed and squeezed Tom’s hand. She was beyond ready to get out of the hospital. To be somewhere comfortable and safe. With Tom.

“In addition to the guards outside,” Tom said, nodding his head towards the door to y/n’s emergency room where a few of his security were. “I tasked Harry with booking the safest hotel he can find. I’m also going to have guards on each entrance to the hotel, and one outside watching our room if we have a patio, and a couple in the hallway by our door, they’ve been told they’ll be working around the clock, and-“ he rambled.

“Tom, I appreciate all of that,” y/n confessed. “But… She’s been arrested. I don’t think we need that many…” she argued.

Tom nodded. “You’re probably right. But… I know you keep saying it’s not my fault….” He sighed. “But, I can’t help it… please just let me do this for you, until things settle down?”

Y/n smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“Tom, you can sleep now, we’re safe,” y/n promised, snuggling into his side as he held her.

“I know,” Tom whispered. “I just want to stay awake and just hold you for a bit,” he confessed. “But, please, rest darling, you’ve had a terribly long day,” Tom pleaded, kissing y/n’s forehead.

Y/n hummed quietly as she breathed in Tom’s cologne. “I love you,” she whispered, melting into his embrace.

“I love you too,” Tom replied, smiling down at y/n. “Thank you for being such a fighter today,” he added, tenderly running his thumb over the space between her brows to soothe her. Tom grinned to himself as he watched y/n quickly drift off to sleep. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if things had gone differently today, but he was glad he didn’t have to find out.

Tom Holland Navigation

Peter Parker / Spider-Man

Main Masterlist Navigation (All My Works)

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thatdraggo · 22 days

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Hello Everyone in the Objectified/COTH fandom! I’m creating my own comic about multiple razor packs being at war. It would also be about religious beliefs, homes, and how different packs live. Not all of them can live in forests.

This would give more depth to the forest dwellers we know and love.

So, I’m asking you all to send in your own Razor ocs to be put in the comic! Since I’m not too creative. I need rulers for each pack (4), (4) Stone guardians, civilians for each pack (so about 10) and (2) other main characters!

If you want your oc to be added, please provide a short description of characteristics, the pack wanted to be in, and a reference sheet in a reblog, and not through a message! Thank you!

Here is the pack list and description

Pack Safety: Safety guard hoods and masks that come from a slit on their heads. Most mysterious and deadly pack. They will kill with no hesitation anyone that differs from the “standard archetype” of Pack Safety. A usual defect dealt with is their hoods either not completely covering the face and or not being able to slide on and off. Usually developed by kits “too loved” or too hated, due the hood coming automatically on when under stress. This “disability” is sometimes developed by war veterans too, meaning they have to be executed. Long razor heads with not very much variation in color. Usual beastial type is coyote beastial, if not a coyote beastial, immediately assumed to be a hybrid and is quickly killed with the snap of a neck + the mother’s as well. Live in common pine forest.

Pack Seaside: An aquatic pack that lives on riverbeds and under streams. Have beautiful voices like sirens and fins / gills all around them. Small webs in between talons / fingers. Usually tropical fish and seahorse built tails / fins with alligator limbs other than tail. If furry, usually have Beaver beastial roots

Pack Echo: Usually have draping wings connected to their arms like wyverns, large ears, and night vision. Usually the only razor pack with ears and long tails. They kill or leave kits to die with damaged ears or other injuries, due to the inability to survive in such conditions in the mines and caves they live in. Usually have dragon / bat beastial roots.

Pack Guard: The most loose in control pack, usually with hybrids from other pack types. Thick rubbery glands around face, and usually have magical powers related to thunder (electric razors) only razor type to be able to purr, a signal only used by their pack. Have glowing glands that light up in dark caves/ at night. By far the most artsy and creative pack. Least fearsome pack, though have the most physical strength by far. No definitive beastial type, but bear beastial ancestors were painted on their trees and canvases. Live in common pine forests

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dreamtydraw · 1 month

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Rewatching snow white ( the 1937 Disney movie ) with my little sister and I think it’s a great example on how people view feminity as weakness.

There is this image in media that snow white message is outdated because she gets saved by a prince and she’s naive but that so reductive of the whole movie and snow white as a character. Sure the social message of this almost 100 years old movie is vastly différent because of the war context and the goal intended for snow white as a character but aside of that ( because that important but too long to develop) even if you apply today modern standards, the film isn’t less feminist ?

Snow white is a polite pretty and kind woman. She takes care of the animals and in return they help her. She survive an assassination attempt and willingly choose to stay kind to other. When she chose to clean the house it’s because she thinks orphans lives here and she wants to help them. She’s a princess but used to be her step mother’s slave / servant ( in french she’s said to be a slave ) so that means before event of the movie she spent her time working. And about the prince she loves him, sure it’s very superficial but nevertheless she show mutliple time that she has interest in him through the movie ( two songs about it ) yet it’s only when he saves her that she end up with him, her goal is not to end up with him from the start, it’s after that she find safety that she wish for more like her love being reciprocated.

She rules the house, she pray for the well being of the dwarfs and dosen’t let negative comments going against her principles ( she force the dwarfs to clean themselves even if they insist to not do so and she still try to befriend grumpy politely when he say he dosen’t like her. )

And about the apple, she let the woman enter the house because she thinks the old woman is sick and need water, again showing signs of her good heart. The old woman tell her she’s gifting her an apple that grant wishes as a thank you for helping her, she dosen’t eat it because she’s dumb, she eats it because she thinks it’s a gift with good intentions for her good acts. + the old woman INSIST that she eats it.

She’s not dumb or incapable but a lot of people think she is for some reason and I’m pretty sure that reason is her femininity. Snow white is a symbol of feminity she’s humble, a good housewife a pretty girl and is in love. Sadly a lot of people think that the only way to be a strong female character is by being a bad bitch, in the eyes of a lot of people women can only be strong if they actively shout that they are by showing off or exercising roles previously offered by men.

Similar thing happened with the Mario movie where they toned down Peach hyper feminine character to make her more badass and people were like « oh finaly they gave her a character »

Hyper feminine characters aren’t less strong because of their hyperfeminity…..

Anyway that my little rambling and I take this occasion to remind people TO NOT watch the live action remake because of Gal Gadot’s presence importantly. Gal gadot is a proud zionist, idf soldier and was introduced in hollywood with intention of propaganda. + they used cgi instead of hiring real actors for the dwarfs and Disney suck ass. Watch Mirror mirror instead:

#dreamty’s ramble #snow white #disney snow white

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reasonsforhope · 1 year

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Amazon delivery drivers and dispatchers walked out of their delivery facility on Thursday to demand that Amazon bargain with them. The 84 drivers currently on strike have held picket lines before, but this is the first time Amazon drivers have walked out in the U.S., according to a Teamsters press release.

The drivers, who work for the Amazon delivery service partner (DSP) Battle-Tested Strategies in Palmdale, California, unionized with the Teamsters in late April, and are demanding that Amazon come to the bargaining table to negotiate a contract. Drivers have already negotiated and ratified a contract with the DSP, which voluntarily recognized their union.

Amazon has previously stated that, because the drivers don’t work directly for Amazon—they work for the DSP, which is then contracted by Amazon—that the company is not obligated to bargain with them. For the past month, the union has been trying to prove that wrong, saying that, despite Amazon placing all responsibility onto the DSP, it is in fact in “complete control” of the DSP’s operations.

“We are on the picket line today to demand the pay and safety standards that we deserve,” said Raj Singh, one unionized driver on strike, in a statement. “We work hard for a multibillion-dollar corporation. We should be able to provide food and clothes for our kids.”

The drivers’ contract with the DSP guarantees a higher wage, protections against the extreme heat of California summers, and the right to refuse unsafe deliveries. Heat is an industry-wide hazard for delivery drivers. Motherboard has previously reported on how UPS drivers must deal with temperatures of over 120 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer. Earlier this week, the Teamsters won a tentative agreement with UPS guaranteeing improved heat protections and air conditioning in trucks...

“Amazon has no respect for the rule of law, the health of its workers, or the livelihood of their families,” said Randy Korgan, the director of the Teamsters Amazon Division, which has been working to organize Amazon facilities to protect workers and maintain wage standards in the delivery and logistics industry. “Workers are on strike today because the only thing this corporate criminal cares about is profits. We are sending a message to Amazon that violating worker rights will no longer be business as usual.”

-via Motherboard at Vice, June 15, 2023

#labor #labor unions #labor rights #teamsters #amazon #delivery driver #organized labor #strike #ups #good news #hope

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

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What if Stella and Blitz met Martha and Mayberry? The ex wives and the mistresses.

Ms Mayberry would know all about hiring hitmen on cheaters and Martha would understand what causes people to cheat in a loveless marriage with kids, they’d both help Stella to move on from it and for her (and the extremely stolas obsessed biassed audience) to learn she’s not crazy (at least by hells standards) Maybe they look at Blitz being mad at Stella for hiring a hitman and laugh because he’s one himself who Mayberry hired. Learning that could change Stella’s view of him. Martha like blitz seems to ping pong between men, before finding the right person (woman) for her. Imagine a scene of “how did you know they were the one?” I love those. Or in Blitzs case “how did you know he is not the one?” Hint: him being on the phone to that creep while being shot at by Martha then stolas shaming blitz to fail to cater to his safety. Stolas is the reason Martha caught him remember. Please blitz remember.

Both sinner women tell them that a man willing to humiliate them and bring them into a cheating scandal does not truly care for or respect them, much less “love” He cares about himself only, and not either of them. In fact he wants them to fight each other. To take blame off him.

Another slightly random thing I was thinking, what if Martha was a huge horse girl too. And dreamed of the wrath ring and meeting hell horses and Satan himself. Blitzø is super stoked about this. He says he descended from Satan as his hellborn and flirtily asks Martha “maybe you should be worshipping me? We’re practically the same” Before Mayberry smacks him and Stella fact checks that assessment. Stick to horses Blitzø.

Another sweet idea, Mayberry has full shared custody of Martha’s evil cannibal children and loves being around kids again. And teaching. As a teacher she finally helps Blitzø learn to spell and read properly, and doesn’t make fun of him for it. But does put him in the dunce hat for cussing. She notices his dyslexia right away and is actually helping him, and maybe notices he grew up speaking multiple languages adding to his spelling difficulty (but Ofc Viv wouldnt do that, everyone in HB speaks exclusively English) I’m tired of the audience calling him stupid. Stella too, she received no education as a woman without official status besides baby maker, and imagine how hard that is to admit?

Basically the message is bad actions have consequences, but good actions have consequences too. Apologies aren’t just meaningless. Every year the three send gift baskets. Blitzø doesn’t say it aloud. But being around three motherly women who understand him, helps him in his grieving journey quite a bit. And to be less of a misogynist. All he had to do was give a sorry basket and he just made three close friends.

You guys are going to kill me with all these beautiful, sincere versions of HB that we'll never see so much as a shade of in canon.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post #helluva boss critical

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periprose · 11 months

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Angsty/Sad imagine idea for insomniac!peter parker

Reader dies in his arms or he visits her grave for the first time and he says something like "we weren't supposed to end like this" and its just sad....

😭 this ask made me sad but also excited to write! Thanks for requesting it.

"How is Spider-Man supposed to reach us in time?" The woman tied up next to you quivered in fear. "Those assholes having been taunting their guns for the last twenty minutes... oh God..."

You never worried if Peter would show up to rescue you in time. Ever since Fisk had gotten jailed, multiple up-and-coming criminals had taken this as their chance to shine.

Unfortunately for you, that meant being kidnapped or harassed, and often you'd get out of those situations thanks to the police- but being Spider-Man's girlfriend sometimes had it's privileges, namely that you could text him discreetly for help and he'd be on his way.

You always felt bad about it. You knew there were worse, harsher things happening out there. But Peter always insisted that you ask for help.

Usually it would end in a quick brawl, and you'd be safely thwipped into his arms, no harm done as you'd swing back to your apartment in safety.

This time, though? It's a lot more serious. These thugs want to "directly send a message to Spider-Man", and it's by poor luck that they've discovered your connection to him.

Every once in a while, they taunt you, but you're sure Peter will rescue you. You've sent him a text and he's read it- he must be frantically swinging right now.

"He's coming, don't worry." You try to comfort the woman beside you, but to no avail- she mutters that Spider-Man doesn't deserve a girlfriend if this is what happens to her, and that you need higher standards.

"This one's getting too confident, boss." One of the thugs kicks your side after hearing your remark, and you wince. "Being pretty won't save you now, bitch."

The woman next to you shrieks in fear- but she suddenly gasps in relief, and you see him, red-and-blue Spider-Man saviour swinging directly to the intersection you're currently kneeling at.

"I've got you, stay down!" Spider-Man shouts at you and the other hostages. He doesn't have a hint of his usual, tension-breaking humour, and it fills you with dread.

The pavement hurts your knees, but you stay down, not wanting to draw attention now as Spider-Man attacks and webs up your kidnappers. He's putting a lot more emphasis into his punches- it seems like they've really ruffled his feathers this time.

Of course, Peter's actually furious- he doesn't know how they figured out your connection to him, and he's desperate to take you away and hide you somewhere safe.

He wonders if he can convince you to move to New Jersey.

After a blur of punches, Peter sees that there's just one more guy to defeat- he swings forward, the guy shoots his gun, a flurry of bullets ricocheting everywhere, and Peter doesn't care about the sudden searing pain in his side- he takes him down.

He turns- hoping that you're still okay to go home now- but the woman next to you is crying hysterically, pointing to your slumped over body.

Oh no. Oh no. No, no, no.

Peter starts running, not with the confident poise of Spider-Man, but with the fear of a young man about to lose the one person he truly, truly cared about.

He scrambles over the pavement, where you're lying in a pool of your own blood, gunshot wounds scattered across your body- it just seems unnecessarily unfair, so needlessly cruel that the universe decided that you would take all those bullets. They should've hit him- he would've gladly taken every single shot.

"No, no. Please-" Peter squeezes your hand, as you look up at him, tears falling out of your eyes. Your face is ghostly pale, you're shuddering- but you still have enough time to say something.

"Keep... going..." You try, because you don't want Peter to blame himself for your own stupidity.

"No. Please, somebody help her!" Peter shouts, gritting his teeth, and there's nobody left here but him and you. Everyone else has ran off- and Peter's too shaken to call an ambulance at this moment. "I don't know what to do, don't- don't-"

You know what he means, and you're trying. You're using all your might to not die here, to let yourself be rescued and healed. But you can't let Peter stay agonized like this, not when he means so much to people, not when he protects so much more than just you, so you use your last reserve of energy to speak, even though he tries to shush you.

"New York... needs... you."

"I need you!" Peter yells, and you can tell he's crying under the mask. "It should've been me, I could've taken it- please don't-"

But Peter's luck always runs out, and it seems like the universe wants him to lose even more than he ever has. Your grip loosens from his hand, your eyes glaze over, and even though he sobs, clings on to you even more tightly- you just aren't there to hug him back this time.

It's been a month since Peter lost you so unceremoniously.

He stares at your gravestone in disbelief. None of this feels real- he was sure that if anyone in this world had to die from random criminals, it should've been him.

All the time, he feels like he's waiting for a phone call from you. He still swings by your apartment- your things have been removed, he can see that through the window.

Even though he saw your body being taken away into the ambulance, where you were immediately proclaimed dead, and he was at your funeral. It's like the reality of the situation is refusing to sink in his mind.

Even worse, he's taken out his rage on every petty criminal that comes his way now, as Spider-Man. J. Jonah Jameson loves it, calls him even more of a vengeance on the city, and that he should be behind bars.

Peter would be behind bars gladly if it meant you would've been safe. Maybe being Spider-Man was a mistake.

But he can't forget your last words. The last thing Peter would ever do is disappoint you, and he knows what you wanted. That he would keep protecting the city, that he would keep going despite it all.

Damn it, he hates you sometimes. Hates that you still know how to inspire hope in him, that you're such a significant presence in his heart that you're permanently etched there now. He hates how much he loves you, and how he's going to forever listen to you.

He just wishes you were here to see it through.

"We weren't supposed to end like this. It was supposed to be me and you, together, living a full life." He whispers. "It... it was supposed to be us, and our kids, our grandkids, hell even great grandkids, and then, only then, would I accept it. That we would be allowed to-"

He still can't bring himself to say die. So he lets himself swallow the agony, the sobs that always threaten to ebb out of his throat, and rests another bouquet of flowers at your grave.

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bzurk · 3 months

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sight

It would be too selfish to have all of you - your thoughts, your body, your mind and soul. Simon doesn't deserve it. But he needs it, craves it. So he'll break you down, bit by bit. Because if he can't have you wholly, he'll settle for the pieces instead.

<- part 1 here

part 3 here ->

The nightmare started as all nightmares do—with a creeping unease, a sense that something wasn't quite right. It starts small, like scratching a mosquito bite you don’t notice until it’s already bleeding.

The back of your neck would tingle with unseen stares. Your favourite knife went missing from its hiding place in the med-bay. Your desk chair would be slightly out of place after a long day in surgery. The ballpoint pens you’d unconsciously nibble on disappearing from your office.

Either you were finally going mad, or someone was playing a cruel fucking trick on you.

Weeks after the niggling paranoia came the photos.

You stumble back to your quarters after a long day, boots dragging across the gritty floor, muscles sore and mind hazy. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting sickly shadows that dance along the narrow hallway. You stop at your door, keycard in hand, when you see it—something white, peeking out from under the doorframe. You bend down, groaning as your knees protest, and pick up the small stack of photos. The first is simple, unassuming. It’s you, alone, walking through the base, minding your own business. Just you, unaware.

The next one hits you like a punch to the gut. It's you, mid-laugh, half-dressed in the doorframe to your quarters, with Jackson’s hand sliding up your shirt. That was more than a month ago. Your breath catches, heart racing. You flip to the next one. Different guy, different place—your favourite nook in the gym, sweaty and close, his lips on your neck. Your hands start to shake as you look through the rest. Each one a memory, twisted into something filthy, voyeuristic.

The tipping point, the first time they scared you, was the night you found a printed photo slipped under your doorframe after a long, exhausting night in the medical wing. Standard procedure, by now, routine. But the photo was different. It wasn’t blurry. It was crystal clear, almost artistic in its composition. Framed by parallel black lines on the long edges, illuminated only by yellow lamplight. The slim photo is centred on the expanse of a naked back, sat upright and framed by a pair of bent knees, the pair surrounded by mussed sheets and discarded clothes. It had only captured your back, but you knew it was you. It had to be.

Written on the back of the photo, in jagged, scratchy writing:

“You’re wasting your time. They’ll never make you cum like I can.”

That was the moment you realized this wasn’t just a cruel prank. This was calculated. This was dangerous. Your entire life, and the lives of the men you’d fooled with, would be ruined if these photos got out.

But the messages, the photographs—they're like poisonous weeds in your mind, choking out the light. And they're spreading. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, all the time, even in the supposed safety of your room. The vines and roots had wrapped around your heart and your head, sapping away all sanity, feeding off your turmoil.

Every day, more of them appear—under your door, slipped into your locker, hidden in the med bay. They’re like a disease, spreading, tainting everything they touch. Each photo is a small piece of your life, stolen and corrupted, each message attached a slash to your sanity. The air always smells faintly of sweat and disinfectant, the harsh lights overhead casting everything in a cold, clinical glare that does nothing to alleviate the creeping dread settling into your bones. It feels impersonal, uncomfortable, clinical, this base you’ve spent the last six months at.

You try to ignore it at first. You really do. You shove the photos into the deepest drawer, lock them away, but they fester there, a hidden rot. You start to jump at shadows, every creak of the base’s old pipes setting your nerves on edge. You walk around with a constant buzz of anxiety, like an itch you can’t scratch. He’s there, somewhere. You swear you can feel it, a dark cloud hanging over your head and threatening to suffocate you.

Days turn into weeks. The photos continue to arrive, each more invasive than the last. There’s one of you sleeping in your office, one of you in the women’s showers, in the gym, in the rec room, in the gun range. Each new photo intensifies the dread pooling in your gut. A photo of you in the locker room, half-dressed, with a red marker circling all of the scars on your skin. "Every mark tells a story. I want to know them all. I want to leave my own.”

‘They were just photos’ becomes your newest mantra. They’re just photos. They’re just photos. They’re just photos.

But deep down, you know it’s more than that.

The photos aren't just photos. They are violations. Each image, each message, is a boundary crossed, a line blurred. They are an invasion of your privacy, your autonomy, your very sense of self. And each time you find another one, it feels like a piece of you is being ripped away, exposed to the cold, unforgiving light of scrutiny and judgment.

—

"Fuck!" you exclaim, slamming the cabinet drawer shut with such force that the metallic clang reverberates through the small room. The sound almost drowns out your racing heartbeat. Soap leaps off the exam bed behind you, his eyes wide with concern. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is sharp with worry as he rushes to your side, peering over your shoulder, trying to understand what’s got you so rattled.

"There's another one," you manage to squeak out, your voice trembling and weak.

“‘Nother what?” he asks softly, trying to pry one hand off the desk and open the drawer with his other.

"No!" you snap loudly, pushing against the drawer with all your might as you lift your hands only to slam them back down. The muscles in your arms strain as if they're the only thing keeping something monstrous from getting out. "Don't open it!"

Soap’s expression hardens, a crease forming between his brows as he stares at your trembling hands. “What’s goin’ on, Stitch?” His voice is low, steady, trying to anchor you, but the fear and paranoia are already creeping back in, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

The image is burned into your mind's eye. You, in your private bathroom under the streaming water with your eyes squeezed shut, tears mixing with the warm water running down your face. A moment of vulnerability that you thought was yours alone. You had let yourself get too comfortable, let your guard down. And now they had seen it, captured it.

"Close the door, Johnny," you whisper weakly, barely holding yourself together. "Please?"

The door closes with a click, the sound of the lock turning echoing around the small, sterile room. Your breaths are coming in ragged bursts now, each inhale sharp and painful, each exhale a desperate attempt to calm the storm inside you. Soap is by your side in an instant, his presence a balm against the raw, exposed nerves.

His hands gently pry your white-knuckled fingers from the desk, and you let him pull you into his arms. You break down, the sobs tearing through you, harsh and uncontrollable.

“Shh, lass. It’s alright,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles into your back. His voice is a soft rumble, a steady presence amidst the chaos, the rise and fall of his chest like the calming lull of waves. “Just breathe. I’ve got ya.”

You take a shaky breath through your nose, fighting the sobs that threaten to spill over. The air smells faintly of antiseptic and bleach, a combination that does nothing to ground you. “I don’t know what to do, Johnny,” you croak out, your voice raw and broken. “I thought if I ignored it, they’d get bored.”

Soap doesn’t say anything, just continues to hold you and rock you gently back and forth. His arms are solid, a fortress against the madness. Slowly, your ragged sobs subside, the storm inside you calming to a dull, painful ache. A handkerchief is pressed into your palms, and you dab at your nose and eyes furiously before chucking it into the bin.

“Stitches,” he starts softly, pulling you to look at him. His blue eyes are full of concern, the weight of unsaid words hanging between you. “You have to tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You swallow hard; there's a lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. The room feels too small; the air too thick. You're trapped in this moment, in this nightmare with no way out. His eyes are sincere and pleading, wide with concern as his hands grip your arms tightly, grounding you in the moment. The sincerity and sympathy in his eyes force the words out of your chest before you can stop them. You've never broken down so completely in front of another person before.

—

The next evening in the med bay is eerily quiet, the sterile smell of disinfectant hanging heavy in the air like an uninvited ghost. You’re hunched over your desk, pretending to focus on some paperwork, but the words blur together, meaningless in your state of heightened anxiety. The door swings open, breaking the stillness, and in strides Ghost, his imposing figure casting a long, ominous shadow across the room. His face is as unreadable as ever, obscured by the skull-painted balaclava that always makes your skin crawl.

"You look like shit," he says, his voice low and gravelly, each word a deliberate probe. His eyes, dark and intense, scan you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn. He's nursing a cut on his arm, blood seeping through the makeshift bandage, a stark contrast against the black fabric of his uniform.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," you respond lightly, forcing your voice to remain steady as you avoid his piercing gaze. You get up and grab a suture kit, your hands trembling slightly. "Just a bit tired, that's all. It's getting rather late."

Ghost steps closer, the air between you thick with unspoken tension, a palpable current of unease. "Tired, huh?" He sits down on the examination table, the leather creaking under his weight like a groan of protest. "Seems like somethin' more's botherin' you."

You force a smile, the expression feeling foreign and brittle on your face, tugging at sallow cheeks. "Just the usual stress, sir. Nothing I can't handle."

Ghost narrows his eyes, his gaze sharp and unyielding, like a hawk sizing up its prey. "You sure about that? 'Cause you look like you're about to break." There's a cold, calculating edge to his voice, like he's testing you, pushing you to see how far you can go before you snap. Ghost was not someone you’d had the pleasure of getting to know, and to the extent of your knowledge, this is just how he was. A man of intensity and determination, unfaltering in every task no matter how big or small. A soldier who lived and breathed loyalty to his team – it was only normal that he’d be wary of its newest addition.

"I'm fine," you repeat, more firmly this time, trying to mask the discomfort and insecurity bubbling beneath the surface. The words feel like a thin veneer over a churning sea of anxiety. You focus on stitching up his wound, the one thing you could always control, your unfailing hands and the technique etched into your joints. The suture thread weaves through his skin like a silent promise, each pass of the needle a testament to your skill. The needle pierces his flesh with precise, deliberate motions, the rhythm almost meditative. In this small, controlled act, you find a semblance of peace, a momentary escape from the chaos that has invaded your life.

He watches you closely, his silence heavy and oppressive, like a storm cloud waiting to break. His eyes are relentless, boring into you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. The seconds stretch into an eternity, the only sound the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths and the crinkle of your gloves with each pass of the thread. You can feel his gaze like a physical weight, pressing down on you, amplifying your every heartbeat. It's as if he's trying to peel back the layers of your composure, to see what's really going on beneath the surface.

The med bay, with its sterile white walls and harsh fluorescent lights, feels claustrophobic, the air thick with tension. Every detail seems magnified – the faint hum of the overhead lights, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the metallic tang of blood. Your world narrows down to the needle and thread, the thin line of the suture a fragile barrier between you and the encroaching darkness.

Ghost's silence is unbroken, his presence a looming spectre that fills the room. You can almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the questions he doesn't ask hanging in the air like unshed rain. His arm, though injured, remains steady, a testament to his own discipline and strength. There's a kind of respect in that steadiness, an unspoken acknowledgment of your skill.

Finally, the last stitch is in place. You tie it off with a deft twist of your fingers, snip the excess thread, and step back, the weight of the moment still pressing down on you. "All done, sir," you say, your voice flat and devoid of the turmoil roiling inside you. "I'm sure you know the drill by now. Keep it clean, keep it dry."

Ghost flexes his arm slightly, testing the stitches. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze unrelenting. "Thanks," he says, his tone deceptively casual, like a predator feigning disinterest. He stands, his movement fluid and controlled, every inch the soldier. As he heads for the door, he glances back at you, brown eyes reflecting the cold, sterile clinic lights. "Take care of yourself, Stitches. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

The door closes with a soft click, and you're left standing there, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of his presence still lingering like a dark shadow. You sink into the nearest chair, burying your face in your shaking hands, the tremors in your fingers betraying the façade of calm you've tried so hard to maintain.

The sterile med bay, once a sanctuary of order and control, now feels like a cage, its white walls closing in around you. The fluorescent lights above cast harsh, unforgiving shadows that seem to mock your vulnerability. The antiseptic smell, once a comforting reminder of cleanliness and safety, now only amplifies your sense of isolation.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the air feels thick and heavy, like trying to breathe through a wet cloth. The encounter with Ghost has left you shaken, his probing questions and unyielding gaze stripping away the layers of composure you've wrapped around yourself. His words echo in your mind, a relentless reminder of the danger that lurks just beyond your control.

Each stitch you placed in Ghost's arm felt like a small victory, a momentary reclaiming of your competence and purpose. Yet, as the thread pulled taut, so did the tension in your chest, the reality of your situation tightening its grip on your heart. You can't help but feel like you're unravelling, each new day bringing you closer to the breaking point, the thread threatening to tear.

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