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#this is probably way longer than it should have been
spencerrreiddd · 1 day
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Three, Two, One.
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Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.
Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
WC: 3.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??
A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍
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three, two, one-
pregnant.
You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.
Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.
He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it
You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.
The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.
There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?
You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.
‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself
“What’s up, Penny”
“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.
"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"
7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?
“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"
The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?
So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!
“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.
Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.
"Looks like you saw a ghost"
"Yeah, Luke, something like that"
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.
You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.
"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"
"Your secret is safe with me, my love"
"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.
"Oh."
"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"
"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!
You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.
You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.
“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.
“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.
"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.
"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.
Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.
It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.
Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.
"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you
"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"
"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"
You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.
Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.
"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself
Knock, knock, knock
"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door
As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.
"Pen said you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair
"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.
"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you
He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read
"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"
"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.
"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"
All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on
It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome
"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.
You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.
"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.
You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.
"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.
"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.
All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.
"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.
"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.
to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid
'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'
'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -
After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.
Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.
Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.
A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.
5:13 P.M -
"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock
"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.
**BACK AT THE BAU**
"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.
"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.
"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over
"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them
"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.
Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.
"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.
'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared
Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.
"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.
"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"
"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.
"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.
"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.
Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.
You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.
You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.
"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least
"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.
"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.
"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.
If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.
Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"
You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.
'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.
"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"
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if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!
FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED
& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.
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intothedysphoria · 2 days
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Billy’s therapist probably didn’t mean to be patronising but he very much came off that way. Something about being in a wheelchair now made people think he was simple.
It was CIA appointed or whoever the assholes who’d dragged him into hospital were. The therapist felt like he should have been a part of the Men In Black and Billy half expected that he was going to get his memory erased.
Instead, after Billy signed several NDA’s about the time he was possessed by a fucked up alien thing, he was told to draw. So he drew. He drew his mom bathed in the California sun, Max trailing a muddy skateboard around the house. Heather when she was still alive. Neil covered in bulbous sores, just because. He didn’t draw Steve, even if he wanted to. He wasn’t going to get his boyfriend into more shit than he already was.
The man pursed his lips then asked Billy if he knew why he was there. A sardonic answer almost danced on his tongue until he remembered these guys probably had Max. He shook his head no instead.
“We’re moving you out of Hawkins Billy” came the crisp response. For Billy’s own safety, of course. No cover up here.
They were not moving him back to California, even after Billy threatened to stab a guard. California would be too obvious of a move.
They were dumping him in yet another shithole but this one was in Texas. To live with his maternal grandfather, who Billy hadn’t met since he was three years old.
He didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone. All he had were Max and Steve’s house numbers balled up in his fist as he boarded the plane.
His vague memories of “grandpa Patrick” were of a gruff, surprisingly fit old man who scared the shit out of Neil. Memory did not disappoint.
Patrick had served 32 years in the Air Force before working as low level management on an oil rig and retiring soon after. He was a piece of work when it came to bending house rules but it came from a place of genuine caution not the desire of instilling fear.
Since the past months had destroyed any hope of going to college, Patrick signed him up for wheelchair basketball. Under the surname O’Connor, not Hargrove.
Phone usage was limited from 5pm until 6pm every day, because Patrick was perhaps overly concerned about bills and was also convinced that all phones were bugged. Billy tried to call Max and Steve every day. And every day either Susan or Mrs Harrington picked up. It was driving Billy up the fucking wall. What was the point of having a boyfriend or sister if you weren’t allowed to call them?
Billy’s aunt Marie had noticed that he was becoming steadily more despondent by the day, so she gently suggested writing a letter. As long as he didn’t use his old name and wrote with his left hand he should be fine.
Max’s letter took about 10 minutes. They knew each other so well all Billy really needed to establish was that she was safe, she was coping and she wasn’t getting too much shit at school. Billy already knew how she’d be feeling in this situation.
Steve’s letter took much longer. Trying to judge how your boyfriend of a little under a year would react to you suddenly reappearing in his life was a little more complicated. Especially when you had to drop in hints as to who you actually were.
Billy struggled through emphasising that he loved Steve, leaving him had been hell and he’d met several actual cowboys since the move. After that he really just had to wait.
Steve sent him back a letter with tiny butterflies drawn on the front. He was always doodling and on their first date Billy had been told his eyes reminded Steve of butterflies. It was a difference from all his past dates who’d told him they looked like the sea.
It was a long letter for Steve. He was dyslexic and despised writing, would constantly need to be bribed with affection to finish a book report but Steve sent practically a novel. He was bored and lonely in Hawkins, had a job in a video rental space and was working his way up to going to college. There were several paragraphs asking about the rules of wheelchair basketball followed by several more asking if he’d bought a cowboy hat.
He loved Billy more than he could explain and hoped he could come back soon.
Billy felt asleep with the letter tucked into his pocket and resolved to find Steve again.
One day.
For @shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 and also @oopsiedaisiesbaby for giving me the idea of Texan Billy
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leoruby-draws · 13 hours
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Been on a bit of a roll with posting my drawings lately, just getting rid of some backlog. Anyways, here's a funny doodle of the batkids bothering their big brother Nightwing on a date with Starfire. They're so annoying lmao.
Its kinda a sequel to this comic from way back. I say kinda because I meant to put with the comic itself but I was too lazy to do so. But I'm posting it now!
Speaking of that comic, I got an ask asking for a follow-up to it showcasing Dick and Starfire's kids getting some 'revenge' for them. Here's Mar'i (NightStar) and Jake Grayson popping in from the future! (btw I accidentally deleted the ask, feel bad esp considering how long it took to actually do art they wanted.)
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They're all having so much fun! Look at little Jake, I actually wasn't sure if I should put him here since Mar'i is from Kingdom Come and Jake is from The New Order. Two different universes, the ask did ask for both of them so I did so. Also I forgot his eyes were green, aw well.
Speaking of Kingdom Come, I remember reading that in my middle school library along with some other DC/Batman comics. I was already a total weeb and loved manga so I decided to try out western comics too (since I did like the DCAU cartoons). Read them for a few weeks got bored, then picked up Akira and wouldn't read superhero comics again for more than a decade. Just weren't as easy to get into as manga, took some effort to try them again.
Anyways, here's an extra Mar'i as Nightstar:
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I love her outfit, such a wonderful design. And its fun to play around with it too, its fun. But I'll probably take off those wings on her headband, they clutter the design I think. Gosh I love doing her hair its so fun.
Here's an extra Mar'i, with Jake included:
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Would Mar'i be Robin as a kid? Or take on a different kid hero persona? How about Jake? Just played around with some costumes for them. Look at Jake clinging to Mar'i, think she'll be a good big sister?
Played around with Nightstar's outfit some more . Wanted to draw them longer so make it look like actual wings on her, and also like tassels on a performer's costumes.
Well this was fun to do, hope you like all this!
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xtractors · 2 days
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As my account says I am just here for the headcanon and The angst. So stick with me. [It looks longer than it is, but you can skip the bracketed section for my headcannon]
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I've been thinking since I saw Deadpool and Wolverine whether Wolverine knew who Wade was as Deadpool? I came to a pretty solid conclusion, because when Paradox zaps Deadpool away, wolverine's first reaction isn't to be like, "So what's going on?", it's to automatically try and jump Paradox for disappearing Wade [which like maybe it wasn't because he knew it was Wade. Maybe it's just because he just really enjoyed flirting with him, but I think it's cuz he knows who Wade is]. Then in the void it's to attack Wade, which he doesn't seem to be surprised about his healing factor.
And this led me to, if Wade existed in worst wolverine's universe and had a healing factor. Then he probably could have been a version of origin's Deadpool?
And I have decided for THE ANGST, that absolutely origins happened, and worst Wolverine saw what happened to origin's Deadpool.
~~~~
[And here's my thing. I really wish origins had focused more on his relationship with his teammates, especially with the whole him and Wade making eyes at each other. Ignoring my feelings on the Kyla Silverfox lady, like I really wish the movie had just focused more on his teammates and relationship there. I think that he should have been "friends" with Wade and I think when he said "they finally found a way to shut you up" it should have been more emotional, and hurt and less sassy. I also really wish that Wade hadn't been just a mindless machine. Which I suppose we don't know how actually conscious he was, but could you imagine? Wade who's always expressed himself by being sassy and dealt with his trauma and being a mercenary by making jokes being unable to speak at all and unable to control himself as he attacks his friend?
Like I seriously don't think origins Deadpool was that bad of a character. I think there was just no emotional attachment to him. Cuz the whole mouth Sewn shut thing could have meant so much more if Wade was actually friends with Logan. ]
~~~~
Anyways, back to the plot.
So my thing is if there is origins Deadpool in worst wolverines timeline, do you think worst Wolverine ever just thinks about it?Do you think he ever has nightmares about his Wade being the one with the mouth sewn shut?? Unable to make his crude, but adorable jokes? Unable to call him Peanut and honey badger? Nightmares where his Wade, the one who saved him and gave him meaning and a new life, is staring into his eyes, as Logan's voice echos "They finally found a way to shut you up, huh." What if he wakes up guilty, a bitter taste on his tongue hearing how cruel those words really were to someone who means the world to him, someone who he never truly wants to shut up. Worrying his mind over not being able to save him once, not just not being able to save him, but having to kill him? Every once in awhile when he tells Wade "do you ever shut up?"[affectionate], he gets a flash of origins Deadpool in his head and goes quiet and regrets saying it?
could you imagine the angst?
Logan seeing his good "friend" who expressed his trauma through never shutting up unable to talk?Logan's "they finally found a way to shut you up" being breathless and painful and not just mean
Do you think Logan listens to Deadpool chatter and ever think about origins Deadpool and regrets not being able to save him? Regrets that one his last lines was taunting him for finally being unable to ramble?
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snapeaddict · 3 days
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A teacher's trick
For @mmad-lover <3
"I must say, I was quite surprised. The level of precision was that of a third-year; and it was brewed by an average student at best, Miss Ladislaw. Clearly, the discussion we had two weeks ago made a lasting impression. The girl has potential, and it pains me to admit it as I usually have a keen nose for those students with probable skills - I shall keep a close eye on her."
Minerva smirked slightly, although her expression also had something of that motherly fondness one finds in older people's faces as they listen to naive statements from their younger counterparts. That particular smile did not last long, however. She knew Severus would not appreciate what he would qualify as a "patronising attitude" - or what was it that he had said last time? - "ageist condescension". She had not taken it well; then Albus had looked at her with the very same expression, and told her she should know better than to lecture someone who was no longer a student. His amused eyes above the half-moon glasses, the slightly raised eyebrows... yes, Severus might have had a point after all. He was 24 already...
"And what is it that you told Miss Ladislaw two weeks ago?" she asked, her tone as neutral as could be.  
The Potions Master slightly shrugged his shoulders.  
"Merely that I thought she could achieve a satisfactory grade if she applied herself, and that her needing to work harder than some of her classmates for the same results should not hinder her from trying."
Minerva smiled again, then immediately took a sip from her teacup to hide it, pursing her lips.  
"Well, it makes perfect sense." She couldn't help herself.
Severus raised an eyebrow.  
"You told the girl you believed she could do well. You might as well have given that kind of student a bottle of Felix Felicis - it yields the same results."
"We are talking about a student who successfully brewed a Wiggenweld potion, not a Draught of Living Death."
"You understand my meaning."
Severus sighed, although he bowed his head slightly.
"We cannot go about telling every student such things hoping it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I would not have said it to half of them. If I had, it would not have been more than a white lie. All I can do is make sure they pass - I am no miracle worker."
"Oh, I don't know. It seems to be exactly what those new educative methods are about... you know, from the last board meeting. I thought..." She stared at him, then looked away, lowering her eyes. "I thought I could certainly incorporate some of them into my teaching. Be a bit more mindful. I am rather old-school, I'm afraid."
Severus kept looking at her. Then he simply replied, well after she had averted her gaze:
"We cannot be parents, Professor."
Minerva wondered if his momentary defeated expression had more to do with the immensity of the task at hand - to work at Hogwarts, one had better not gauge the assignment too closely - or with his own mixed feelings towards teaching. She thought it a little paradoxical how unforgiving he was with regard to academics, while he would go out of his way to try and fix things he could never fix, like broken homes and intra-student hierarchy. He was, it had to be said, an unforgiving teacher and a surprisingly supportive Head of House; Albus would certainly provide a satisfactory analysis for such behaviour, although a little too Lacanian to her liking.  
She poured him another cup of tea, which he accepted with a slightly embarrassed nod of the head. The friendliness between them was new and ever fragile. In its present state, it was a succession of extended hands quickly taken away when glares of suspicion, or the occasional snide remark, emerged again.
But she was trying, truly. This evening, she had originally planned, was to further their mutually beneficial relationship.
"You should not be so reluctant to make use of that Pygmalion effect, you know, Severus. It did yield great results with you."
He stared at her, looking genuinely surprised.  
"With me?" he repeated, the intonation quite unlike him.  
"If you recall, you were not very fond of Transfiguration as a boy."
"I shall make no comment on the subject."
His voice was rather cold.  
"You need not justify yourself", Minerva replied gently. This time, she held his gaze. "I know you had your reasons, all of them justified."
You did not feel safe, she wanted to add, but she said nothing. As usual, another thought rushed to complete the former - does that justify anything?  
She knew he would never claim that it did; although they had never brushed the subject, Albus had made no indication that the boy made any connection at all between the bullying, and his joining You-Know-Who. No, it was her; she made a connection. She saw a pattern, some kind of single path he was made to follow, perhaps a personal failure. It was in her nature to self-scrutinise when and only when she formed a bound - empathy enabled introspection as readily as dislike blinded her to any conclusions she might have previously drawn.
She was startled when he spoke:
"Not all of them, no."
She looked at him confusedly.  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"Not all my reasons for disliking Transfiguration were sound", Severus elaborated, smirking slightly.
She stared at him for a second. It was as if he had guessed...?  
"It was too much like muggle magic", he continued, purposely ignoring her expression. "Put a poor rabbit in a black hat; it is transformed into a dove. The coin disappears and reappears. You pull out metres of tissue from the magician's pocket. It seemed to me this was all that this was - magic tricks."
This time, Minerva was fully shaken out of her daze. She looked frankly scandalised.
"Magic tricks!" she repeated, her right hand on her heart. "Tricks!"  
Severus seemed to enjoy her half-genuine, half-theatrical display of indignation. He continued, sipping his tea with exaggerated nonchalance:
"I thought it horrendously inelegant. Turning animals into glassware while we brewed potions the colour of the starry sky... While we learnt to bottle things without essence... "
"I beg your pardon, no matter how you put it, it still is soup you are making down there", she cut sharply.
The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Now, Professor, you do not want me as your enemy", he said slowly, putting down his cup in the middle of the English porcelain before him.  
"Oh, but I do", Minerva replied in a syrupy tone. She put down her own cup with every bit of nonchalance he had just displayed. "Potions are just large soups. That is, boiling water with things you put inside of it."
"Transfiguration is but a distraction for children at a garden birthday party."
"... While their parents bake the birthday cake by throwing ingredients into a big bowl in the right order, which is what you do, if I am not mistaken."
Severus raised his eyebrows, now looking amused and somewhat surprised. He thought of a few bitting comebacks - some that he would not have shied away from using a few years later - but hesitated for a second. This was, after all, still his former professor...  
"Well, Severus? I am sure you of all people have a witty reply to offer. You are a man of many talents."
This was enough to stimulate a formidable combination of those replies he was pondering upon - something to do with Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, its first principle, the impossibility of conjuring up food, the birthday cake, screaming children, ethical considerations about vanishing said children, and a muffling draught. He was about to speak; then, Minerva's words reached him fully. "You are a man of many talents."
He closed his mouth, smiled slightly, then nodded, all without a word.  
You are a boy of many talents, Severus. Be sure to remember this next class.  
"Pygmalion effect", Minerva said, leaning back in her seat. She clasped her fingers, smiling pensively. "You did so well that next Monday. You transformed that match into such a beautiful flower - truly the most remarkable one I had ever seen. I brought it to Pomona, I remember. She said it looked like a Lotus, Bleeding Heart, and Edelweiss had been bred together; it did not exist. It was a pure product of your imagination."
Severus frowned, although more from concentration than annoyance.  
"I barely remember".  
"You got an O. I cannot tell you how frustrated I was that you only got an E for your O.W.Ls. The only one! Nine 'Outstandings' in all other subjects!"  
Severus gave her an ironic look.  
"I am sorry to have disappointed".  
She rolled her eyes. "Do not put words into my mouth. Look", she added, getting up and circumventing her armchair, "I even took a picture."
She pulled out a drawer from the nearby buffet, then searched through its content for a few seconds, smoothly retrieving a mid-size, cardboard-like paper which she handed to him. Carefully, Severus lowered it down on his knees.
On the top right corner, in green ink, the words "Mr Snape - 1972" were written in the neat, strict handwriting that he had known since his first year, although usually in red. Somewhat clumsily this time - for whatever reason - he turned the paper over. It was, indeed, a picture: that of the flower he vaguely remembered, but now could study plainly, with its long petals and queer tear-shaped extensions right at their extremities. It looked more alien than beautiful, but that was not what his mind was occupied with. Rather, his black eyes scrutinised the background in the picture, clearly that of Minerva's personal desk, which had not changed much since then. His eyes went from the picture to the desk, dimly lit by a few candles at this time of the evening.  
"I wish it could have lasted longer", Minerva said softly, still standing by his side. She had followed his gaze. "It is one of the tragedies of transfiguration - nothing lasts forever."
For a few moments, Severus could not speak. Minerva put a hand on the back of his armchair, looking at him expectantly.
With difficulty, he gathered himself, and finally cleared his throat.  
"I was merely thinking... thinking that if you were to cast a combination of Epoximise and Orchideous spells, and I to brew an Elixir and Revigorating Draught, all of this put to use at regular intervals - it could potentially keep such a flower intact."
Minerva raised her eyebrows, her interest fully sparked. She turned around, searched through the buffet drawer once more, and placed a match in front of him. Her wand was out.
"Brilliant, Severus. What do you say I perform some tricks, and you bring over some soup, so that I can give you another O?
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daengtokki · 1 day
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Heyy there :) I literally can't stop thinking about SKZ f!additional member AU and softie Seungmin who seems nonchalant like the unbothered king he is but caring just deeply about reader, for example looking out for her when practice gets tough, getting snacks during recording sessions and so oooon. Yeah, I'm weak for that. Maybe you are, too. Have fun during this fluffy week either way^-^<3
This trope is interesting, but I've never actually read a single fic based on it! I'm not sure if I would do it justice. I do have an idea, though, and it's in the same vein as this, and I can add in the things that you're weak for (because same). The problem is…I can’t do it in a single ~1k word oneshot 🥲
So thank you for the inspiration for a new possible longer story! Unless everyone absolutely hates it.
If you like it, I’ll be happy.
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idol!Kim Seungmin/guest artist!reader/idol!Chan x reader △
wc: ~1.1k (part 1?)
rating: angst to fluff
Day 5 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!
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It's a few more weeks at the most, maybe longer, and after that...he'll probably never see you, or talk to you again. The planning stages of this was fun, he admits, and all eight of you sitting around the table talking to you on speakerphone; the excitement in everyone's eyes and voices was contagious. And of course Seungmin is excited...it's you. He's been a fan of yours for as long as he can remember, so having the opportunity to work alongside you, and maybe even sing with you? It’s a dream come true.
That's the problem.
He hasn't slept properly in a few days, and he's feeling very puffy and tired. There's only so much he can do now to prepare himself. He took a cold shower this morning, drank as much water as he could handle, but after that he couldn't stomach more than half of his iced coffee. It's still in his hand, numb from the almost melted ice, and dripping steadily on the floor. You're somewhere in this building right now, and you could walk in with the others at any moment.
Time to turn off. Turn off or make a complete ass of himself.
/ / /
You feel a little awkward as you walk toward the meeting room...recording studio? You actually have no clue where you're going, but you're flanked by two much taller men you don't know, and in front of you is Chan, who was a little red in the face when he was talking to you and asking you to call him Chris. So you do.
"Chris?"
He turns and smiles at you, and it's so...something you can't and refuse to deal with right now, you think. No. It's cute, and it's shy. The photos you've seen of him before today really did nothing for him, even the good ones. But you're a professional, and you are very good at acting professional when needed. Even when sweet, attractive men are involved.
"Yeah, all good?"
"Good, yeah! Where are we headed? Should I be mentally preparing to meet everyone?"
"Yes, definitely start preparing right now"
One more right turn and something about the door up ahead feels like the one. Meeting suite 1411. That's the one. Chris opens the door and moves aside to let you in first, and the room is empty, or appears to be. Security fell back and took up guard at the end of the hallway (unnecessary and embarrassing, you told Chris when they appeared).
"Oh, nobody is here...okay." He checks his phone and scrunches his nose, and you kind of feel like kissing it. "I'm sorry, I guess everyone ignored the group chat this morning."
"That's alright, are they somewhere else?"
"It's possible, but..." he points to the table filled with snacks and drinks. "I don't wanna drag you around looking for them." The phone is to his ear, and you hear it ringing, and ringing...
"I can wait here if you have to go find them. I already see a coffee carafe with my name on it."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I haven't had enough coffee or stare at my phone time this morning, anyway. And my friends are down the hall."
He smiles so big, you have to return is just as enthusiastically. Maybe he'll turn up his flirting, and you won't have to feel as responsible for your own.
"I'll be right back"
Chris turns on his heel and is gone, and the room is so quiet. Maybe you should put some music on. Before anything, you look over the catering and wonder if anyone will actually have time to enjoy this. The coffee and lemon water, sure, but this is actually a full-course meal in front of you. Just as you fill your cup with coffee, you hear music...but you don't think you pushed play yet.
No, definitely not, because it's your voice that you're hearing. You turn toward it, and jump when you see him standing there, almost mid-step, one hand reaching to pull at his earlobe. His eyes are wide, but other than that...he seems less surprised to see you than you are to see him. But he does at least pause the music.
"Hello," you say, hoping to get him to come a little closer. Whoever he is, and you feel like you should remember all of their names by now, he looks a little annoyed that he now has to share this space and this coffee with someone else. "My eyesight isn't great even with the contacts... I don't bite."
"Hi," he takes a few steps toward you, and you watch his long legs move in his shorts and socks and clean black converse. "I'm–"
"No, I can remember...give me a second"
He does, but he doesn't seem happy about it. This one doesn't have the carefree smile that Chris did, or the shy demeanor. It's a bit distracting, the way his lips purse into a heart, and the way his big brown eyes look down at you. His hair falls perfectly in front of his eyes, but you're pretty sure he woke up looking this good.
"Oh..." it comes to you, sort of. "You're the puppy, aren't you?" You think you see the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it's gone so quickly. "Seungmin."
"Yes, I'm the puppy. And also Seungmin."
The puppy persona fits him, at least physically. His face is soft and round, his big brown eyes turn every so slightly downward, and his ears—something about the way his ears sit on his head, is so... "it's nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise"
Seungmin holds out his hand for you. You do the same, and he takes it so gently. His touch and his mien don't seem to match, and you wonder if the first impression isn't the one to remember for this one.
/ / /
Seungmin finally takes a deep breath when you turn and head toward the coffee again, and he watches as you very carefully add the smallest amount of milk and sugar to it. He finally finished his, so maybe he should make himself another cup. It gives him a reason to rejoin you instead of standing here looking like an idiot.
"Have you met everyone else, or just me?" What a stupid question, he thinks. "I mean, I'm sure you met someone...you're here."
"I met Chris. He left to go find all of you, but you must be the only one who read the message and listened."
"Yes, I saw the message. I like to be on top of things."
The way his voice lowers as he speaks sends a little shiver up your arms. Seungmin likes to be on top of things, and you love catching an innuendo wherever you can. You smirk, but wipe it from your face when you think he might be looking at you.
Seungmin sees the smile pull at your lips and then disappear immediately. "What?"
"Nothing,” you laugh. “I don’t think you talked much on the calls, did you?”
“I did not speak much, I don’t have too much creative say. I have some, it just depends on what we’re doing.”
“Well, it’s tough getting in there with eight of you, I’m sure. Everyone can’t be everywhere…too many cooks in the kitchen.”
Seungmin allows himself to laugh at that, but he stifles it a little and turns away. You’re as cute and relaxed in person as you seem in interviews, and on stage, and it’s a little overwhelming. He can’t let himself do this—he can’t get himself into something he won’t be able to escape. But he seems to remember reading something about a possible relationship you’ve gotten yourself into. Thinking about that breaks his heart a little, but it’ll at least help keep him away.
None of that matters, though. Why would you have any interest in him in the first place?
“Do you want coffee? How do you take it?”
Dammit, okay… “black is good.”
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beforetimes · 6 hours
Text
telepathy kink is always talked about but i loveee the way erik's relationship with charles' mutation is dependant on how much he trusts charles + how willing he would be to submit to charles should he ever use it. like in first class charles spends time flicking in and out of erik's head no issue because erik trusts charles and also when charles was in erik's head, he brought out a piece of happiness that erik no longer thought he had. so he's more willing to submit to charles' telepathy. and he puts the helmet on because he's more vulnerable directly after killing the man who was such a direct source of violence in his life and realizing that it wasn't enough—which probably shook erik to his core, because his whole life he's been hunting this one guy just to find that it's not over yet?
and then in days of future past, erik once again goes back to saying 'i don't have my helmet i couldn't disobey you if i wanted' which some people read as a taunt, some people read as him not accepting charles' mutation (which like? i don't think erik has ever not accepted him, but whatever) but i personally read it as erik once more trying to find his footing with charles after a decade apart.
anyway now that i talked about canon stuff i think specifically in the context of a sexual relationship, the telepathy stuff would be a way for erik to give up control over the situation and put his full trust in charles. which is important because a) erik is someone who thrives on being in control and finds it very important because so much of his agency was robbed of him and choosing to submit to a higher power than his own is something that insinuates a great deal of trust in the other party and b) charles is the only one who he could do this with because charles proved that he had the capacity to invade erik's mind and know him wholly and didn't take advantage of that and has shown time and time again he will help erik no matter what.
its also the fact that erik repeatedly implies that charles' telepathy will be used to control him when its a much more surface-level/baseline understanding that telepathy is the reading of minds rather than outright taking control of them. it's even in the definition of telepathy. but knowing charles can take control of him and constantly inviting him to (in an assumed sexual context, in this case) highlights how erik sort of longs to have responsibility for his actions taken away from him. which again can only be done by charles. not just because of his powers but because so many of his actions have directly hurt charles and he's the only one who can both metaphorically and physically relieve him of the culpability behind the consequences of what he's done when in complete control of himself. so again erik is someone who wants to relieve himself of his overly-controlling nature, his responsibilities, be completely vulnerable to someone who's seen him at his worst and loved him anyway.
and the only way erik can be all these things at once is by being under charles' control. (under the control of someone stronger than erik who has proven he will never hurt him with the power charles can exert over him).
so like sexually yes it's fun to say haha erik telepathy kink but also i think it is something much more tender which encapsulates the fact that erik is only this vulnerable with someone he has so much trust in and that person can only ever be charles because its only around charles he can truly be wholly himself. and so submissive erik is real to me #tbh
hope this makes sense i am kind of just rambling
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ssruis · 3 days
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love seeing you hate on the showtime ruler set . keep up the good work
I appreciate it! but I don’t think it’s something praise worthy. I think speaking up about the issues with RMD should be the norm and it’s disappointing that it isn’t. You would think that “I don’t think the cultures of historically marginalized and oppressed groups should be used as costumes” wouldn’t be a hot take. but apparently it is.
On the subject of that: I’ve heard a lot of people say “it’s not really based on native Americans” and “they didn’t know any better.”
To the first point: that is probably correct. It most likely draws inspiration from the colonist idea of indigenous people in general, but more specifically the Ainu (indigenous people to Japan).
Which brings me to the second point - they absolutely should have known better (and saying otherwise warrants a discussion on the infantilization of East Asians as well as Japan apologism in general. but that’s off topic).
The Ainu have historically been subjected to absolutely horrific violence and oppression by the Japanese government, on par with how the US has treated Native Americans. They were viewed as primitive and barbaric. Their land was taken, Ainu women were sexually assaulted, they were forbidden from practicing their religion, they were put into Japanese speaking schools and forbidden to speak their own language. They were forced to assimilate by law. In 2008 there were ~100 native Ainu speakers. The Ainu weren’t recognized as an ethnically distinct group by the Japanese government until 2019, but they are still continually erased by the push for a homogenous national identity.
Portraying the colonization of indigenous people as a simple “well both sides were prejudiced against each other they just needed to hold hands and get along :)” erases the very real history of oppression against indigenous groups. It allows people to ignore the atrocities committed and their lasting impact. Native Americans and the Ainu (as well as other indigenous people) are still feeling the effects of colonization. It’s not an issue that can or should be viewed as a thing of the past.
Portraying indigenous people as a vague fantasy race/group or as a costume contributes to their continued erasure. It leads to people believing indigenous people and their culture no longer exist. The reality is replaced by the fictional representation.
Phrased more eloquently by Gerald Vizenor (and the person he is quoting) in Mannifest Manners:
“… other masters of manifest manners in the nineteenth century, and earlier, represented tribal cultures as the other; to them ‘language did the capturing, binding Indian society to a future of certain extinction,’ wrote Larzer Ziff in Writing in the New Nation. ‘Treating living Indians as sources for a literary construction of a vanished way of life rather than as members of a vital continuing culture, such writers used words to replace rather than to represent Indian reality.’
[…]
“Those who ‘memorialized rather than perpetuated’ a tribal presence and wrote ‘Indian history as obituary’ were unconsciously collaborating ‘with those bent on physical extermination’ argued Ziff.”
(P.8, emphasis mine)
Vizenor is speaking about Native Americans here, but I think it’s applicable to this situation as well.
This post goes into it a bit more, in terms of harmful tropes present in the RMD story itself.
There’s definitely character related reasons to dislike the RMD story, but I think it cheapens the discussion to center it around “why rui wouldn’t write that” because that is not the important issue and defending a fictional character from the colonization apologist allegations is like. A non issue. Considering everything else.
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sparkles-and-trash · 3 days
Text
Second Chances, a Shouto and Touya fix-it one-shot ~
tags: healing todofam, todosibs, Shouto and Touya focused, some dabihawks and bktd in the time jump part
note: this ended up a lot longer than planned, and I even added a time jump for some dabihawks and tdbk in there hehe! And as usual I'm playing a little fast and loose with the ages of the Todoroki kids for plot purposes, so let's just go with it and have fun, yeah?
~ ao3 link ~
He got life as a gift for a second time.
That's what the doctors and nurses keeps telling him, at least.
But right now, Touya's not sure he agrees with them.
The sterile air in the hospital room makes his nose and mouth feel dry, his eyes feels tired of all the white; the white walls, floors, sheets, his white bandages.
But honestly, while his body is covered in bandages and skin grafts and the intense pain that flares through his very bones every time he takes a breath, he still thinks the worst part is the embarrassment.
Turns out nobody tells you how embarrassing it is to almost die.
The nurses treat him like he's some little baby, which he isn't, he's 13 and a half, and the doctors talk all over him.
Meanwhile his family is all being totally awkward and weird, even more so than before, which quite frankly is saying something.
All Touya wanted had been for his dad to see him, to listen and to give him a little attention; how stupid and unknowing he had been.
Now his father refuses to leave his side, always just sitting there, teary eyed and sad looking, which is ridiculous when Touya's not used to see him show any emotion besides anger.
At first he has tried to hold Touya's hand all the time, but Touya managed to put a stop to that sooner rather than later.
His mom is quiet, and she's usually smiling and telling him about her day and how the wildlife in their garden is doing, but Touya sees the sadness in her eyes, too.
No matter how much she tries to hide it.
Fuyumi and Natsuo clearly thinks the hospital is scary, and Fuyumi keeps berating him for hurting himself, but she also loves to whisper to him about how dad is different now, that he barley goes to work, and Natsuo said that he even tried to watch SpongeBob with them recently.
Touya would love to have witnessed that, but all he gets is weepy dad.
No fair.
The only one he hasn't seen yet is Shouto, and he understands why.
Touya is way too scary looking for a little kid like Shouto.
One of the changes Fuyumi and Natsuo mentioned is that dad is no longer super focused on training Shouto, and Touya thinks Shouto should be able to enjoy that without being traumatized by seeing his brother looking like a freaky mix of a mummy and Frankenstein's monster.
So no, Shouto had not come to visit, yet.
But apparently he's been asking about "Nii-San" all the time, and their mom is insisting that Shouto is ready, but Touya isn't so sure.
The next time his mom comes through the door to the room to his hospital room, she looks weirdly nervous, but she's also smiling.
Like she has a secret.
Touya's not a fan of secrets.
She sits down next to him carefully, and when he finally looks at her properly, she puts her hand on his.
"Someone's here to see you, today," she says softly, and Touya sighs.
"Is it dad?" he asks in his new, creaky voice.
"Is he crying?"
Touya swears his mom hides a smile behind her hand.
"No dear, your father is home with your brother and sister," she informs him, and Touya nods.
"Good."
Rei tilts her head.
"Your little brother really worries for you, Touya," she says softly, and Touya has a feeling she's not talking about Natsuo.
"Probably because you guys are making such a fuss," Touya mumbles grumpily, before he adds.
"And dad crying all the time."
Rei actually fully smiles this time.
"That might be, but he refused to let me leave without him today, so he's sitting outside in the waiting room as we speak," she tells him, and Touya's heart starts speeding up.
"You let him come?!" he asks, and Rei sighs.
"Like I told you, he refused to let me leave," she says.
"I think that was the first temper tantrum he's thrown in his whole little life, actually."
Touya's eyes widens.
"He did?" he asks, only half believing her.
"He did," Rei confirms, before she continues.
"He's also refusing to see you with me in the room, so I'm gonna go outside and send him in now."
Touya doesn't protest, but he can't meet her eyes.
"It's time, baby," Rei says softly as she strokes his cheek, before she gently tilts his face so he has to face her.
"And be kind to your brother."
Touya nods.
He doesn't have enough energy to put up a fight.
His mom gets up to leave, and Touya keeps looking out the window, trying to show how disinterested he is.
The door closes, and he hears two quiet voices outside for a bit, before a tentative knock hits his door.
Touya sighs heavily.
"Come in, Shouto," he calls out as loud as his fried vocal cords will let him.
The door creaks open, and the sound of little footsteps comes closer towards his bed.
Touya really doesn't want to turn around and face his little brother.
What if he scares him?
With his burned face and bandaged body, with his new voice and his pale face, those parts that aren't burned at least.
Turns out Touya doesn't have to turn around, because Shouto's already made that choice for him by walking all the way around the bed.
Suddenly Shouto is standing right in front of him, his mis-matched eyes staring straight into Touya's, and for a few seconds his expression is unreadable.
Touya's heart is beating so fast and hard he worries it'll alert the nurses.
Then, as if someone pulled away curtains on a sunny day, Shouto's face lights up with pure joy and relief.
"Nii-San!" he squeals, and clumsily tries to climb up into Touya's bed.
Touya just stares, trying to figure out if this is real.
Shouto finally clambers up into the bed, and he gently reaches out to put his hand on Touya's cheek.
Exactly like their mom.
"Nii-San, does it hurt?" he asks quietly, and Touya blinks down at him.
Then he nods.
"Yes, it does," he says carefully, and if Shouto is scared of his voice, he doesn't show it.
Shouto's face falls a little, so Touya hurries to continue.
"But they give me great pain medication, and the doctors says my skin gr-"
Touya cuts himself off mid-sentence to not traumatize his almost-seven year old brother more than necessary.
"Uhm, my brand new skin is growing quick and it's strong!"
Shouto's eyes are huge, but not from fear, rather... awe?
"You're so strong, Touya-nii!" he exclaims eagerly, and Touya feels a blush creep up on his cheeks.
"I'm not..." he starts, but once again cuts himself off.
No need to take his own self hatred out by airing it out to his baby brother.
"Well, thank, Shou," Touya says quietly as he gently ruffles the kid's two toned hair.
Shouto beams.
"When I grow up I wanna be like you," Shouto declares, and Touya's heart squeezes.
Had he always been this goddamn cute?!
Touya gives him a wry smile.
"Maybe a little less fried, tho, right?" he asks in a teasing tone, and Shouto giggles, before his face gets serious again.
"You were very hurt, Nii-san," he says in his serious little voice.
"Dad cried."
Touya sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Well, dad cries every time he's here now, so you don't get to complain!" Touya says, trying to lighten the mood.
Shouto doesn't smile.
"I was really scared, Touya-Nii," he whispers.
Touya averts his eyes.
"I'm sorry about that, Shou," he says quietly, and suddenly a small hand grabs Touya's.
"Just don't get hurt like that again, okay?" Shouto asks, and Touya looks back at him.
"I'll try my best," he says with a small smile.
Shouto shakes his head.
"Promise!" he insists.
Touya chuckles.
"Fine, I promise," he says and he ruffles Shouto's hair again.
"Promise."
-
At this point, a trip to the hospital is like a trip to the grocery store for Touya.
Even his family doesn't kick up much of a fuss for these smaller procedures anymore, which is quite nice honestly.
Especially now that he has a boyfriend that takes care of all that worrying for him.
This was the first time since he and Keigo got serious he had to go under anesthesia for a small procedure, and Keigo had not been coping too well.
He was pretty good at pretending to keep it cool, but Touya knew better, and it was obvious he'd been a nervous wreck.
Which is why he's rather surprised when the first person through his doors when he's come to after surgery isn't Keigo.
Touya should have known.
"Nii-San!" he exclaims as he hurries over to Touya's bedside.
Touya can't help but smile.
"Hi, Shou," he says tiredly, and Shouto sits down on his bedside.
Even now, 18 years old, interning as a Pro-Hero and with a steady boyfriend, Shouto still gets that look in his eyes sometimes.
The one he had when he told Touya that he wanted to be just like him when he grew up.
To be fair he wasn't doing half bad on the matter.
Shouto was interning at the same agency that Touya (and Keigo) currently worked at, and he was already taking an extra interest in rescue and first aid work.
Touya couldn't be prouder.
"So, why is your face the first I see, and not my doting boyfriend?" Touya asks dryly, and Shouto shrugs.
"Because I told him to wait outside," Shouto said simply.
Touya felt a headache coming on.
"Why?" he asks, and Shouto tilts his head.
"Because I'm the first one who sees you," Shouto says simply, and Touya rolls his eyes.
This kid.
"I hope you were nice to Keigo at least?" he asks, and Shouto nods.
"I'm always nice to Keigo, I like him a lot."
Touya feels a small smile tug on his lips.
"I'm not so sure about Kats, tho," Shouto adds thoughtfully.
Touya's smile drops.
"...please tell me you did not leave Keigo alone with Bakugo?" Touya asks, and Shouto blinks.
"Why would I tell you that?" Shouto asks genuinely.
Touya sighs heavily.
"Nevermind Shou, could you just tell Keigo that he can come in now?" he asks, and Shouto nods.
"Oh, sure," he agrees and gets up off the bedside.
Before he goes to save Touya's boyfriend and keep his own in check, he stops and gives Touya a genuine look.
"I'm glad you're okay, Nii-San," he says quietly, and Touya smiles.
"Well, I'm glad you cam to check on me, Shou," Touya says back, and Shouto beams.
"I'm planning on keeping it that way," Shouto informs him.
Touya chuckles.
"I'll tell Keigo," he says dryly, but Shouto nods serious.
"Yeah, you probably should."
Touya waits to roll his eyes until Shouto's turned around.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, Touya-Nii."
Touya huffs.
"Just get my boyfriend, you menace."
Shouto turns back to give him a final smile before he goes out the door, and as soon as the door opens the sound of Bakugo's voice hits them both, and Shouto suddenly seems in a bit more of a hurry.
"Yeah, hurry up you little weirdo," Touya mumbles as Shouto scatters off.
He's rather grateful he still has his biggest fan, after all.
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underfaller · 18 hours
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I grow maddened. 
Rating: T Bill Cipher/ Ford Pines Word Count: 1.5k
I grow maddened. 
Stanford races away from the town until the cobblestone path turns into thick snow. The words circle around his skull, over and over-- a broken record that plays into his increasing insanity. As he stumbles through the woods, his vision lurches; Ford swears that all the dark trees have familiar, yellow eyes, watching every step he makes. 
Watching. Waiting. Ready to devour him right then and there. 
The townspeople all have Bill's eyes. They’re all watching me. I can’t trust them. 
In Gravity Falls, you can trust no one. That isn't a problem-- Stanford Filbrick Pines has no one. 
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He barges into his cabin, fumbling with the door’s (multiple) locks before sinking to the floor, back against the hardwood. Ford clutches his right eye. It’s agonizing. Thick blood drips from the organ, sliding down his fingers as he sits, half panting, half sobbing, and fully delirious. 
My muse was a monster. I was a puppet.
Ford stands up, storming through his empty home, still clutching his wounded eye. Blind. I was so blind! How could I have been so stupid? He’s hurt. Betrayed. And furious at himself. 
Ford tears off at the golden tapestries that adorn every corner of the cabin. He shatters every crystal prism until his boots crunch against glass that litters the floor like iridescent snow. Still, he cannot shake his delirium. 
‘Sixer, it’ll eat you alive.’
He’s exhausted, yet he can’t sleep. When Ford even closes his eyes a bit longer than usual, his vision dances with triangles and he snaps them open in a panic. No, he can’t possibly sleep knowing who he’ll see in his dreams.  
But Ford doesn’t know how much longer he can stay awake. He’s growing desperate. He wonders if this is all worth it.
I grow maddened.  
Stanford’s never considered suicide but in his misery and fatigue, the blissful peace of eternal sleep is tempting.Even rabid animals gain the respite of death, surely, Ford reckons, he deserves that much. 
Or do my failures make me less than an animal? 
Ford wonders if he should leave a note. It would certainly be in character-- Stanford always needed to have the last word.
But who would even read it?
Not F. His former partner is probably already in  Palo Alto, enjoying his doting family without even a sliver of thought about Ford or their former dreams. 
Not his brother. How long has it even been? It must have been over ten years since Ford saw him. He envisions his twin’s face-- identical to his own despite their opposite personalities and paths in life. 
Was I too harsh on him all those years ago? 
Would he even care?
Perhaps, his old muse and his current tormentor. Though, Stanford’s suicide note would be more of a white flag than a triumphant last statement. Bill would certainly be amused by his former devotee’s fate. 
Stanford Filbrick Pines has no one. 
Ford makes his way up to the attic.
Perhaps this is the most logical course of action. 
He plans every step in his life yet the one to end it is one done most spontaneously. 
If I do this one thing by myself, will it finally be of my own accord--my own freedom? Or am I still being pulled by his strings?
Ford is in no mental state to pursue such theoreticals now. 
After some fenangling, he undoes his tie and stands atop a rickety chair begging to be kicked over. A red noose hangs over his head, its shadow looming over Stanford like Death. 
Watching. Waiting. Ready to devour him right then and there. 
Stanford looks down. On the floor is a pair of knitted gloves. He made sure to take them off before tying his noose. He closes his eyes. 
He doesn’t see Bill. Instead he sees Fiddleford. Then Stanley. 
They make him hesitate. 
“Ha… hahaha!” 
Stanford’s stomach lurches as his vision doubles. A wave of nausea washes over him before all he can feel is pain and panic and as he grapples for something-- anything-- he only falls further into blackness. 
When Stanford opens his eyes once more, he’s met by his muse. He hovers in front of him with a smug grin. 
“Hiya, Stanford! Watcha doin’?” 
He’s paralyzed in mid air but can still muster words filled with malice. 
“Get out of my head.” 
“Why? So you can continue trying to kill yourself? You’re so dramatic, Fordsy!” 
Bill lets out a shrill laugh; it makes Stanford’s ears ring. 
“I said get out of my head!” Ford shouts. 
Bill stops laughing. There’s a short silence. It feels like an eternity in this pitch darkness. Bill shrugs, raising an eyebrow. 
“Fine, if you want to die so badly, let me help!” 
“Wait-” 
Ford’s body suddenly goes limp, his mind goes slack. Fear overcomes him. 
“Have you forgotten? You’re my puppet.” Bill stumbles around in Ford’s body, giggling. He watches in horror as Bill puppeteers his body off the chair, towards the window. He throws it open, exposing himself to the freezing, winter temperatures. 
“I can do whatever I please with this meat puppet and you, well, you’re just here for the ride! So relax, Sixer, and enjoy the show!”
Even from his mental prison, Ford feels the biting January snow against his skin. 
“Let go of me, Bill! Our deal is off! Get out of my body! Get out of my-” 
“Mind? You first, IQ!” Bill taunts. “Do you think I’d let you go so easily? No, no. Silly Stanford, you’re mine. From now until eternity!” 
Bill takes in a deep breath and exhales, clouds forming from his hot breath. He looks down. 
It's a long way down. 
“Now this is the way to go! Not with some half baked noose made out of your own tie. No, no, my Sixer deserves a spectacular death! Haha!” 
Ford watches in horror as his body teeters over the snowy ledge. He tries to fight the darkness but he’s paralyzed, at the mercy of Bill’s control. 
“What was it again? Ad astra per aspera?” Bill shouts into the icy wind. He cackles maniacally. “Well you better start flapping, Icarus!” 
Ford tries to summon even an ounce of willpower to stop Bill’s possession of his body. He’d never beg aloud for anything. He’d never grovel to Bill Cipher for his meager life. 
But Bill hears all of his thoughts. 
Stop Bill. Please stop. 
Bill laughs aloud.  “Aww…Scared to die? Don’t get cold feet now!” 
Ford’s suffocating. His mind is swimming. His vision swarms. He can’t breathe. 
He needs control but he’s not in control. He never was. 
I am going to die. I’m going to really die here. 
He’s being buried alive in this void. Still, he chokes, 
“Why? I thought you still needed me to turn the portal on?” 
His muse shushes him with a hand wave.
“Can’t a demon help his old partner out? Call it an act of divine benevolence.” 
Bill’s simpering voice makes Ford shiver. He tries to protest further, but he can’t speak. He thinks of Fiddleford. 
He thinks of Stanley. 
He thinks of Shermie. 
He thinks of his mother. 
I am really never going to see them again. 
I still- 
Bill snaps his fingers and everything goes dark for Ford. As he prepares to throw Ford’s helpless body off the window’s ledge, he suddenly stops. Silence. The wind howls. Bill slowly steps back. 
“Ya know Sixer, I could completely wipe your memory with a snap of my fingers. Make you this petty revenge. You could be my little human pet for all of eternity! Wouldn’t that be much better than whatever this is?” 
He examines Stanford’s body in a mirror. Yellow eyes glint back at Bill. This is the optimal Ford. Too bad his little pet didn’t see eye to eye anymore. 
“But it wouldn't be that much fun, would it? At least for me. It’s not the same when I force you to worship me.” 
Ford is still incapacitated but Bill continues. Bill furrows his brow. He sighs. 
“You were such a devout worshiper. You’re actually adorable! Not to mention, very useful-- and a freak of nature to boot! We were the perfect duo! Though I suppose that’s come to an end…” 
Bill laughs bitterly. 
“If you were any of my other henchmen. Oho--you'd be a splatter on the wall right now! It’s ridiculous how difficult it is for me to actually kill you.”
L kdyh ixoo frqwuro ryhu brx, bhw, vrphwlphv, L ihho olnh brx’uh wkh rqh zlwk wkh vwulqjv.
Bill looks at the open window one last time before his smirk returns. 
“You'll come around in time, ” He says. “Eventually. For now, keep futilely struggling. I'll just wait. I have all of time to wait.” 
Bill snaps his fingers again. Ford is once again in his body. The hallucination is over. He looks around wildly. 
“Either way, this party is far from over so don’t go offing yourself yet!” Bill's voice calls. “If you do, I might have to get your twin involved-- and you probably don’t want that.” 
Silence once more. The sun is rising. Ford stands in the middle of the empty room, his heart in his throat.  
As dawn arrives, a soft, golden light shines upon him through a single, triangular window.
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witchdisk · 10 hours
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Skin Removal Sep 17 Postmortem
A few days ago I performed another skin removal procedure. (See #skin removal for more) Here's a writeup of some of the things we learned this time.
The #10 scalpel blade is useful for long+thin removals because the blade is longer. This lets us do the sort of "long, loving cuts" while pulling up the skin, under tension, using the full length of the blade. This is faster than the #15, but you still want that one for precision at the beginning and end.
For this design, there were certain cuts which we wanted to be along the same line, like the edges of the eyelashes:
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When doing the procedure, I did each of the eyelashes separately, so I did these cuts at different times. I should have used the sterile ruler that comes packaged with the surgical skin pens and made these cuts all at the same time. This would have helped make sure they're in line.
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This time I used sterile dermal curettes to even out the depth after removing the skin. This was a great idea and it made this step so much easier. I used the 4mm curette for this procedure, and I only needed one. I will be recommending this going forward. Here's the tool and me using it:
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Have multiple sets of splinter forceps!! (Or whatever your main forceps are.) I had backup adson and hemostatic forceps, but I was acutely aware the procedure would get a lot harder if I dropped my tools. This isn't relevant if you have a flash sterilizer, but those are kind of expensive.
Ask your subject what kind of communication they want from you! This time, xe said "if you had told me [we're halfway done] I don't think I would have been able to finish." Good thing I didn't do that!
EMLA cream (lidocaine 2.5%/prilocaine 2.5%) is quite useful to help those with a lower pain tolerance. It pretty much eliminated the pain from the cutting, but not all the sensations (e.g. skin being pulled up, felt sense of something wrong ("felt like something i could not perceive but my body was reacting to"). I have some prescribed because I've been scared of needles, and the numbing helps with getting blood drawn.
We already know this, but just to reiterate: it's important to get the correct depth on the guiding lines. The skin should separate, like this:
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Using sterile bordered gauze + hydrogel for the wound dressing did not work this time. It dried on the wound, and removing the bandage to clean resulted in mechanical debridement. This hurt a lot and irritated the wound in ways that we hadn't planned for. Using tegaderm initially, like we did two times ago, was also not ideal because it resulted in a big gross bubble of exudate. Something in-between these is required, but I'm not sure what. It should stay moist, but still be relatively absorbent. Tegaderm+pad, for the occlusiveness? Recs here appreciated. Pigeon reported it used a bunch of saline to soak the area to help with this, but there were still some issues.
The lines ended up thicker than in the design. We think this is mainly because skin tension pulled the cuts open. This may be mitigated by wound contraction during healing; we will measure how it ends up vs the desired width to determine that. See this video of me removing a full section to see what I mean.
The loupe glasses!! As seen below. These were some cheap ones I got off amazon, but were actually super helpful. They didn't really improve my posture, and my back still hurts >.< However, they did help me see details a lot better. If I keep doing this I will consider getting a better pair. They gave me a headache after about 30 minutes while practicing, but were totally fine during the procedure. Unsure why!
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I need to work on my aseptic technique. I was not adequately monitoring for reaching over the sterile field. My gloves should have covered my sleeves, but there was bare skin exposed. My gown was not sterile (haven't found sterile ones for a reasonable price) and it probably touched the drape a few times. The sterilization pouches I used were difficult to use for the bowls I had - difficult to get them out easily, difficult to load in the pressure cooker. I should really look into getting a secondhand rigid sterilization container. Last I remember, the difficulty was finding filters for these. Maybe I wasn't looking in the right place, or maybe I could make my own (tyvek? like the mushroom growers use...).
My informed consent notes mention the risk of keloid scarring, with a note this is 15x more likely on darker skin. I don't have a source cited for this, and so I don't know how this applies to black vs brown skin. This would have been useful to know!
Needed to print/laminate the handwash/handrub posters.
Re-affirmed a lot of things we already learned. Full-depth removal is the way to go. Ensure guiding lines are deep enough. #11 blade for short/straight lines, #15 for removal, and having separate scalpel handles for each is good.
Dumb one, but having a bunch of tiny individually wrapped gauze pads is annoying as hell. I picked up some bigger ones, we will see if those are what is needed or if I need to find packs of multiple smaller ones.
I'm gonna give it one more go, but I don't actually think pig skin is ideal to practice on, mostly due to the lack of blood/lack of elasticity. Much more difficult to determine the appropriate layer to separate skin at, compared to live human skin. Would appreciate other recommendations here for practice materials...
Okay, I think that's about all the thoughts I want to write out now! I will meld these notes with my existing ones soon, and get those published. As always pls hmu if you want to talk about this, especially if you have experience.
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anastacialy · 6 months
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tracked down this clip just because of this post! have jokes from skizz and scar
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monster-noises · 2 months
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When still living in the same city as her there is always a chance that you will run into a person you Do Not want to see, and even if you recognize her but you are not sure she saw you and you only walked by her it can Still absolutely Tank your mood for the rest of the day.
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u know what i've been thinking about. how the economy expects you to be, right now, at a job you've been at and consistently getting raises in for like, ten years. it's almost like the implication is "well yeah, you'll be able to live off this job in three, five, ten years if you stick with it and grow in the company" which is all fine and dandy, but i kind of need to live right now
#the queen of trash has spoken#rewrote this post six times and it turned into an essay both times and i don't really need it to lol#also thinking about the graphic i saw this morning that said the average spending power of $100 here is $41 compared to the national averag#which i guess? min wage is just over $16 here. but uhhhhhhhh i think my city is one of the most expensive in the state as far as cost of#living goes (not hard since we're the second largest city in a state of three decent sized cities and mostly large towns)#and its just crazy bc i look at my coworkers some of whom haven't been there much longer than me#who have kids and a house and stuff#and i realize oh. their husbands are engineers or lawyers. plus they're probably making more than me because they're team leads or managers#or have been there longer. meanwhile my 25 year old ass is making $20 an hour and my boyfriend is making $18 an hour#both doing highly-specialized work#and like. the idea that in ten years if i last that long both in the company and in this mortal coil#THEN i'll be making a living wage (in today's money)#is like. so wack! considering the fact that people really aren't staying in jobs for very long for various reasons#and for some positions the only way to get a raise is to move to a whole new company#it's just crazy! the fact that a 25 year old with a bachelor's degree can't even afford a fucking APARTMENT.#like everyone should be able to have housing obvs and the obvious solution to this is a universal basic income#but the fact that my experiencce in the economy is so different from my brothers (who is seven years older than me) and COMPLETELY#unrecognizable to that of my parents when they were my age. like i know billionaires are totally disconnected from reality#but in what universe is this a successful economy? /rq i know the answer i promise
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spirkbitch · 1 year
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feels weird that my main acc on tiktok still has more followers than this acc and my spirkbitch tiktok combined like
these people want to see my face? y’all listen to my voice with no filters on it? you care about my opinions on things other than star trek? weird
also some old guy followed my tiktok and like, i’m glad he’s here but sir are you sure this is the star trek content you want to be seeing?
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longagoitwastuesday · 23 days
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Waiting for JJK leaks with my heart beating fast. As if I were caught up with the manga. As if I were invested in this at all!
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