#you know what I had an entire rant typed out but honestly I can’t be bothered

[myname-isnia]

Am I good at art or did I just spend years drawing the same 3-5 characters over and over again to the point I can draw them perfectly with no refs and my eyes closed but it comes with the side effect of any time I decide to draw any other character they never turn out looking right, which in turn sends me into hysterical sobbing

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

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You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

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Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

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You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[kaelidascope]

Fandom and LGBTQ Hostility and My Experiences Trying to Exist in Both Spaces Online

I came into these spaces with a very strict rule that I would not react or do anything cancel-worthy out of an overabundance of caution. Digital footprints are dangerous. The things you say online will follow you around forever. I know that first hand. I’ve bottled up and stayed silent about a lot of things I’ve either witnessed first-hand or experienced because I was trying to maintain a clean online persona. I’m not an ‘airing out dirty laundry’ type person. 

In light of recent events however, it’s gotten so bad that I can no longer sit here and not say something about how I feel. I’m disappointed and frustrated with the experiences I’ve had both in fandom and LGBTQ+ spaces and I can’t be complacent. I’m tired of getting treated like this, I’m fed up and I’m not going to put up with it anymore. I feel it’s important I voice what I’ve been watching and what’s happened and how I’m not going to tolerate it anymore by calling it out first hand. 

This is a two-topic rant. They overlap in some instances, but it directly has to do with how fandoms behave in general towards each other on Twitter and Tumblr, and also how absolutely hostile LGBTQ+ individuals are nowadays to each other on the same platforms. 

I come from a different generation and a different social media platform. I wasn’t on Twitter and Tumblr until last year. I’m not dismissing the fact that I may have missed out on decades worth of culture and social expectation. The places where I come from aren’t exactly fantastic either, but at least here, more queer people are interacting with each other with shared interests much more widely than in places like DeviantArt. The amount of culture and information I’ve absorbed in one year is more than I ever had within the past twenty years. It should be a good thing, and I’m disappointed that it wasn’t. 

This is not the way I wanted to come out online to anyone. I’ve been figuring out where I sit on the gender and sexuality spectrum for a while now. I will not document a specific timeline for anyone because that’s nobody’s business but my own. Within the last year, I took a massive stride forward in exploring things I legally didn’t think I was allowed to. I expected backlash from cishets and the usual thing I see LGBTQ+ folks write essays over, about how the world hates us, but at least we have each other. Shockingly, the backlash didn’t come from straight people. It came from other queers. 

I am 27 years old and I am entirely self-sufficient. I’m mixed Puerto Rican living in a red state. English wasn’t even my first language. I don’t have a network, so I’m teaching myself these things. I'm asking questions. I'm reading materials and expressions of self-experience and self-identity through fanworks and other autobiographical content. I'm actively trying to seek community and support through transgender and non-binary individuals with shared interests and so far all I've been met with is hostility and assumptions. So much so that I've now been made to feel like I'm on a timeline to figure it out so I can have a well-practiced, short introduction to copy and paste to every person who comes across me. And the only reason I even need one is so that they can make the decision to pass judgement over whether or not I'm allowed to speak, write, draw, wear, act, breathe the things I do. I'm disappointed. I'm anxious. I honestly feel more shoved into the closet now than I ever did before and I shouldn't be. Nobody should be treated this way when trying to figure out who they are. I probably won't even get an apology for the things that were said to me, either. I pride myself on the extraordinary caution I take to be politically correct, vetted through reputable sources, and as close to authentic as possible. And yet somehow I’m still getting called things like terf, transmisogynistic, triggering, when I’m fucking trans myself and all of my content gets vetted/REQUESTED by trans individuals. I get promised up and down that people are kind and welcoming in these sorts of spaces and honey, they aren’t. The people you choose to be friends with aren't as inclusive and friendly as you think they are. You don’t even know me and what body parts I have. The fact that you need to know in order to decide whether or not to treat me with respect is telling of an internal issue that has nothing to do with me. 

I have no reference point. I live in a place where laws ban anything gender and trans. I have no local resources or community. I've barely met any LGBTQ people in person. If I have, they never came out publicly. Most of my queer exposure has been online, and the fact that I've seen nothing but angry, mean, exclusive and discriminating behavior without any sort of reasoning why other than selfish defensiveness, I don't know where else I'm supposed to go for support. Something a lot of you guys need to take into retrospect is anyone who identifies as LGBTQ gets shot where I live. We have sundown towns here. If you don’t even know what that is, good, but also that’s telling of your privilege that you need to consider when talking to others not from blue states. I didn’t grow up in an environment where we had these highly liberal culture points and the word ‘gay’ was never allowed to be said out loud. We did not have gay clubs in school. I'm about as fucking late to this as you possibly can get. The only reason I know anything about our history, representation, and barely anything about what's socially acceptable and what's not, is because of the internet. So many of you had the privilege of being exposed to this information as young as under the age of 10. I didn’t. Sue me for not immediately knowing what every gender label means right off the bat. Half that stuff isn’t even legal here. 

I can't believe it's boiled down to the fact that I have to somehow justify my existence on this Earth and give an explanation that fits into predetermined boxes just to do anything to engage with other people. I have no time or space to figure it out. I’m disorganized and overwhelmed because I can’t ask questions about ‘can butches do this?’ ‘How versatile is transmasc/transfem?’ ‘Am I more genderqueer or do I fit under the trans umbrella?’ Gender and identity is fluid and ever changing. I have actually seen people harp and attack individuals for "defaulting" or "detransitioning" when they change their mind after giving this big coming out speech. It’s like support on these platforms is entirely conditional and a one-time thing. Y'all really expect people to wear the first style of shirt they buy for the rest of their life? Are we not allowed to do anything unless we know for sure? How’s college working out for you, for those who believe this mindset?

The vocally aggressive ones who use big words that contradict their statements can do, say, and be whatever they want.  But people like me can't. The ones who have to straight pass in public to keep their jobs and maintain their life safely. Some of us have been on our own since 19 with no family support. Consider the environment someone lives in before assigning your harsh assumptions. I can’t just change myself on a whim without doing significant damage control. Half the jobs I work for don’t even allow unnatural hair colors. If we list our pronouns as anything other than our assigned sex at birth, it causes legality issues with taxes. The way I have to navigate how to explore my identity and also keep a roof over my head and my bills paid may seem highly conservative to most. It’s in no way shape or form meant to reflect disrespect on how others live and express themselves. I am doing the best with the environment I have. The way I do things is not meant to be read as a message of ‘you’re doing it wrong because you’re not doing it the way I do.’ None of us are wrong. That should not be the subliminal message here. 

You know someone actually challenged me on that? Saying I was being harmful for purposefully straight presenting in public? Please research your country and state specific laws before you say that to me. If I could afford to live somewhere safer and queer-friendly, this conversation would be different. I am working on getting the fuck out of this state. But I don’t have a partner or parents money to default on. I’m doing this by myself. It’s not impossible, just a slow process. 

I'm disappointed and fed up. I've reached my limit, and I don't really care anymore if someone uses this essay to try and cancel me 5 or 10 years from now when the world goes through another gender renaissance of terms and identities. I will not put up with being treated like this when you refuse to listen to anyone else other than the sound of your own voice. I’m trying my best to learn, adapt, and express myself. I do not need to be lectured or be called derogatory things just because you think I’m coming from a malicious place.  

It’s not just about the hostility and gate-keeping behavior exhibited in online queer spaces. The same exact thing happens in fandom spaces too. People get pissy about queer headcanons and presentations so much to the point of taking it upon themselves to police the fandom and scrub it clean of “impurities.” I’ve watched y’all go through people's social media pages for any type of ammunition for justification of a personal grievance. It shocks me how much hyperfixation gets put on specific and morally harmless things when there are people out there writing diabolical shit way worse than what I have to offer. And y’all happily support them too but bark at me about what I make cus that author fits your social criteria and you assumed I didn’t. Don't think I'm ignorant to every single scrap of hate mail and harassment I've gotten over the past year and a half in my inboxes. Including the passive aggressive posts about my work, vague tweets, and discussions about me in discord servers. Over what? Have you actually read my work? If it’s actually as problematic as you say it is, provide me with a modern and unbiased example why this particular scene and execution is harmful. And not because you got triggered or disliked the kink, or read the summary/tags and assumed it was something it’s not. I don’t know how much more caution tape, massive warnings, obvious clear-cut tags (that were provided to me by queer individuals to PUT on there in the first place) out of insane amounts of caution I can do. I have always been willing to provide spoilers and explicit details in case someone is unsure how they’ll be affected by something I make. If you already don’t like it based on my warnings, that’s always been more than okay! My work is not for everyone. I’m getting tired of politely and respectfully saying please move on, because the message seems to be getting lost in translation. So let me be clear; 

Get off my pages if you don’t like what I make. It’s not for you. It will never be for you. Dead dove. DO NOT EAT. PREFERRED DEMOGRAPHIC 25+ ADULT CONTENT RATED E FOR EXPLICIT. I can recommend so many other fantastic creators with better suited content for you! If I could hide my content behind a roped off section deliberately keeping you from seeing it, I would. BLOCK ME. 

If your response to this section is ‘well then just don’t write it’. Honey, there’s people out here in the RWBY fandom writing trans incest actively commenting on all your shit and you respond back. A magic grimm-goo strap and monster smut featuring a transfem character (again, requested by literally 3 trans people and WRITTEN by one) should be the least of your worries. 

I have actively chosen not to address the harassment and hate mail, because it's sad that half of you hate me so much you need to make a point of telling me so regularly. I sincerely hope moving on with your lives will grant you peace of mind. Truly.

This is why I barely interact with anyone. Nothing but hostility, harassment, and expectation to behave in ways I cannot emotionally commit to. I am exhausted, uninspired, and have such a bad taste in my mouth it's proving extremely difficult to want to do anything creative. It’s been worse with my recent exploration of my gender identity. Opening one door to write about certain things somehow, miraculously, closes ones I previously existed in. I’m practically getting kicked out if I’m not 100% one way or another. I don’t go out of my way to shove my content down your throats. Why you feel the need to come to me and tell me you dislike my existence because you read it, despite me stating this is not for everyone and probably not for you, doesn’t have anything to do with me. Idk what else I can do. Disappear off the face of the planet, I guess. That seems to be what the overall solution is when y’all find something you don’t like. I can't believe I witnessed grown adults in their mid twenties with self-proclaimed senses of rightness start a trend on Twitter to go through people's mutuals and their likes to see if they’re socially acceptable in Fandom spaces or not. That was fucking ridiculous. And especially not fair to those who had their private accounts leaked and put on blast when it was already behind an vetted follower wall. Believe it or not, people draw weird, lewd, diabolical shit. They’re actually being responsible by putting it behind a paywall, or some type of ‘proof of age before following’ requirement. It falls on the people who go on there, take screenshots, and post them publicly for minors and non-consenting individuals to see without filters what was previously hidden. It’s irresponsible and immature. 

For fear of getting canceled by the Fandom, I moved all 600+ accounts I was following onto a private alt. I don't interact with my main anymore. I went so far into hiding and didn’t dare share anything about liking content made by people I wasn’t allowed to like, because that’s how cruel it is out here. It's honestly stupid I even felt like I had to do that. For what? People glazed over the brief moment of drama within a few weeks and went right back to posting the same shit they always have. They find new things to gossip about on their privs. New enemies to cancel on Twitter. New things to deem problematic and attack. 

I will be heard with this letter. I don’t care to be associated with anyone who treats people like this. I don’t believe in it, I won’t support it, and I’d rather have a small circle of people who won’t be rude or attack other people for existing. I’m not going to sit here and take the abuse any longer. Leave me in peace. There is no reason any of this should be happening. 

This is not meant to undermine the support I have gotten from the few who know what I'm going through and have given me the space to figure it out. I appreciate every question answered and insight provided as much as your abilities allow. I'm so grateful for it. I just wish it wasn't 2 people while everyone else is an asshole.

[whimsical-roasting]

Jamie comforts you after a long day (pt 1)

okay so this was meant to be entirely nsfw but tumblr has a character limit (tf??)... haven't written Jamie in SO long..

if it sucks - close ur eyes?? if it's good - tell me cause i have a praise kink <3

You come home after a long day following an already long week…hell, it’s been a long fucking year, hasn’t it?

Technically, this isn’t your home cause you’re on Jamie’s boujie couch, eyes closed and head resting against the back. Gotta admit shit’s comfy. You got in with your spare key and dumped your bags and stuff by the side of the couch

You just need a moment…just one fucking minute where your body and mind aren’t moving. You don’t even know where Jamie is, but he’s definitely somewhere in the house. You tell yourself that you’ll get up and look for him, just maybe after 2 minutes

You honestly don’t need to wait long because you hear the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs. You call out a tired “Hey!” and keep your eyes closed... You don’t get a response, and honestly, for a few moments, you’re too tired to care, but just as you’re opening your eyes, Jamie’s in front of you

“Hey, love”, he murmurs with a small smile as he sits next to you, one leg under himself and body tilted to face you

His hand is stretched out to you, holding a glass: ice cold water. You get an involuntary smile, accepting the glass and instantly bringing it to your lips. That first crisp taste of liquid goodness genuinely makes you swear this shit must be medicinal.

Jamie’s index finger traces the wet stain made on your pants from the droplets of condensation that fell from the glass. He doesn’t say anything for a second, just observing your state. He’s come to know the different things you have on your plate - your work, academic shit, the schedule that never seems to be on your side, not giving you a bloody break. 

But with his training, matches, and social obligations, as well as your own workload and energy levels, there’s been little opportunity to deep dive into how you’re holding up 

“How’s stuff?” he ventures out, studying your face. Honestly, the way you inhale deeply, like your body is trying to gear up energy just to respond, makes him frown

You set the glass down on the coffee table and turn to face him. “Stress isn’t exactly what I’m feeling..” you start, trying to make sense of it yourself. Jamie’s fingers are tracing circles on the inside of your palm as he waits for you to continue

 “It’s like- like- ugh fuck me… it’s like I’m so busy and tired! Million fucking things to do and apparently I’m the only one who can do em… And god, I spend my entire time taking care of others and handling shit! I like it, and I’m good at it - don’t get me wrong, Jaim - but fucks sake.” You start ranting, heavier on the cuss words because what else is gonna convey the weight of everything?

Jamie opens his mouth to speak but closes it when you continue

“And my roommate’s a grumpy little sh- ugh, no, it’s not that bad. I mean, if you’ve dealt with Roy, then I can’t complain about em… I’m just not used to angry people all the time. It’s like fucking-” your eyes jump around the room, trying to put into words what it’s like “-eggshells! Walking on eggshells! But forget it, that’s not even a big deal… it’s just another thing,” you mumble with a huff.

Jamie doesn’t like how you’re so dismissive. He’d jump in and tell you that it does matter, and if your roommate is even an ounce like Roy, then that must feel like shit. It took Jamie a while to adjust to the way Roy’s anger was when he first joined Richmond, and that’s just the locker room. Fuck, imagine that type of energy in your living space. Jamie debated how he could beat that roommate up in a way that wouldn’t cause you problems, but his thoughts ceased fire when you admitted the final part of your frustrations

“AND, we haven’t had... Yknow…” Your initial awkwardness around the topic catches his attention, but a smirk makes its way onto his face once he realises what you’re referring to. 

“I’ve just been exhausted, and you’ve been busy…but god, I need some…some... Fuckin hell, I need sex. I miss our sex. You’re so fucking good at it too,” you grumble the last part quietly and Jamie just snickers

You glance at him, and that stupid smug smirk on his face makes you wanna kiss him stupid. Is this asshole really amused by your suffering? And why the fuck does he look so hot whilst being so??

“Babe.. just-” he debates saying ‘calm down’ but come on, even he’s not stupid enough to say that to a woman. Instead, he smiles softly and grabs your hands. Ducking his head, he kisses your knuckles, then your palm, and then your inner wrist before glancing up at you.

“You’re overworking yourself, and you know that, love,” he sighs and continues, “Just cause we both know you’re more than capable of it, dun mean it’s a good idea… maybe you’ve got too much on your plate, and the only thing you feel is exhausted.” 

“Also, babe, we’re gonna fuckin address the roommate shit, so don’t think you’re brushing that off,” he gives you a knowing look as you shrink a bit into the couch. 

Not liking the (loving) scrutiny of his eyes, you defensively push back, “So you’re just gonna ignore what I said about the sex thing?”

This causes Jamie’s eyes to light up, and that stupid smug smirk returns to his lips. “Nah, never said that. Just wanted to be a proper gentleman and address me girlfriend’s problems in order.”

You roll your eyes at him, but it’s clearly loving… when it comes to Jamie, all your looks are loving…mostly.

He grins at you, “Now, onto the real issue,” and you shoot him a deadpan, unamused look that causes him to bark out a laugh. 

“I’m joking!” he holds his hands up defensively.

He reaches over and brushes your hair behind your ear, looking you in the eyes. “You need to switch off that beautiful brain of yours. And you need somebody to take care of ya for once.” 

All you can do is blush and nod cause he makes a good point; you do need that, and more importantly, you crave it. 

(go to part 2)

[metaphoricgibberish]

I’m having a really shit time

I know none of you give a fuck about my personal life, but honestly i’m just putting this here because I need to expel it and it’s too long for fucking twitter and i’ve already ranted enough to my friends.

I’m so fucking tired. I’m so fucking burnt out it’s honestly a miracle I haven’t been checked in somewhere yet. I’ve had a lot of bad years. I’ve survived a lot. But honestly I think this past year has been one of my worst, surely in the bottom five.

My health and anxiety have been a huge part of that. I’ve dealt with panic attacks since I was a teenager, but i’ve had more in the last year than I have over the rest of my years combined. I’m wearing a fucking heart monitor as I type this for fuck’s sake…

Work is truly the biggest trigger. I started working at frog design at the end of 2019, and I thought, truly thought, that I could stay there for the rest of my career. I loved it, I loved the people, I loved the work, I loved being surrounded by creativity and innovation and real fucking work that actually matters. But when frog got bought out by Capgemini in 2021 everything went to shit. I haven’t had a raise in three years. I make less than 30 dollars an hour, and I live in one of the most expensive cities in the world. I’ve been poor my whole life, this isn’t new to me, but with the amount of responsibility i’ve taken on, the amount of work i’ve put in, it is fucking despicable that I make as little as I do.

When I started at frog, I was an office coordinator. Now, not only am I still that, i’m also the event manager, as well as a part of the facilities team that manages the entire west coast. I step up whenever and wherever I can and I am given nothing in response to that effort. I managed the move of three offices into one giant space that capgemini and all its fucking subsidiaries are now required to work within together and I got absolutely zero credit for it.

There’s this fuck that I work with, this misogynistic shell of a man, who every day talks to and treats me like garbage. He’s undermined me, spoken to me like I am a child, blatantly told me that I am “far too down in the hierarchy of this company” to be able to talk to certain people. Meanwhile, this man pulls me into conference rooms multiple times a day to ask me to speak with frog management because he “can’t do it himself”. I held a pride event a couple weeks ago, part of which involved me doing an informative talk about the different pride flags, and he had the audacity (as an openly gay man) to shout out obscene and offensive stereotypes while I was trying to educate the rest of my colleagues. I don’t know what to do. I know that if I escalate this (which I can only do through HR as my manager is an incompetent moron who only calls me to bitch about her boyfriend) it will only make my situation worse. This man is an executive assistant to an asshole just as pompous as himself, and yet he somehow thinks he has jurisdiction over the entire office.

I have the biggest event of my career tomorrow. 500 external attendees. I’ve tried to manage the entire thing myself, but with the rest of my workload, I can only do so much. I know that it’s going to be a shitshow, and at this point, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Three weeks ago I worked seven hours overtime (at another event I managed with over 200 external attendees) and I did not get paid for a single minute of it. The same will be the case tomorrow.

All this is to say i’m tired. I’m so fucking tired I don’t know how I manage to wake up in the morning. To anyone in a similar position: I see you, I appreciate you, I recognize you.

I don’t think anyone is reading at this point, but if you somehow are, thank you. That’s more than can be said for anyone in my life outside of my therapist (god bless you Colleen).

[bellsxwriting]

٠ ࣪⭑ KARMA.- Scaramouche x reader

｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ 8.Stalker alert

Quite honestly…you were dreading going to your lesson, twice a week you had world history; It was frankly a stupid lesson anyway, it was only made more painful by the appearance of none other than Kunikuzushi- sorry no, it was scaramouche now since he wanted to be edgy about it. Anyway, a lovely coffee with your best friend should lift spirits, Kaveh did have a habit of making you feel better, when he wasnt ranting about Alhaitham…which he seemed to be doing at this exact moment. 

“Honestly, and then you wont even believe what he said next!”

“Im sure I wont”, you grumbled, opening the door to the cafe. Ah, heaven. The smell of coffee, the light chatter of students and keyboards typing, scaramouche behind the counter- Wait…Scaramouche?? 

“You cannot be serious…” you made eye contact with the boy behind the bar, before he shrugged off your gaze and continued to work, Kaveh had picked up on this interaction before internally panicking

“Now Now Y/N, how about you dont get us banned from here by causing a fight?” He smiled nervously. 

“I wouldnt dream out it” You said behind grited teeth, making your way over to the counter. As you approached, he met your eyes once more, rolling them in annoyance. 

“What do you want” 

“Coffee…Evidently, Its why yaknow…Im in a coffee shop”, Kaveh tried to laugh off the awkward encounter by quickly ordering you two drinks, all while you and Scaramouche were sending eachother telepathic death threats with eye contact alone. He left to go make the drinks and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“You know you could take the high ground and just be nice to him?” He asked, testing the waters. You scoffed, Me? The high ground? Never. Before you had time to reply, you had snatched the drinks that were brought out, slamming your mora down, and strutting away, Kaveh hurriedly following in toe.

“If you want to know what happened love you can’t ignore him”, Kaveh said, sitting down in front of you.

"It's not that simple Kav...I'm still hurt over everything that happened, I don't want to form a friendship with him again or figure out what happened. He could just leave again. And...I feel like it would hurt more" He sipped his coffee in thought. In any case, he was now back, and eventually, you'll have to find out what made him leave all them years ago.

Previous . Next . Masterlist

Summary.- It’s been over 10 years since you last saw Kunikuzushi, back then he had blocked everyone and disappeared without a trace. Now, you’re in your second year of the Akademiya University. But what happens when a certain someone appears from your past, and now, with an entirely new personality?

A/N.- There's gonna be a little more writing in the next few chapters so I hope it's ok. I'm honestly really enjoying creating this! The last chapter did go up but my tumblr made it mature for some reason so check out the masterlist to find it!

Taglist <3

@yumi-genshin-writer@pinkiepiescanonn@kyouzki@royalz658@sagegreenthinks

[winns-stuff]

LO APPRECIATION:

Okay I’ve been seeing all of the content about the wedding and.. God do I have thoughts but it’s better to just cool down now with an appreciation so I don’t say anything harsh because genuinely I’m at a point with these rants where it gets hard to say things nicely, I’m ready to just say it how it is and stop sugarcoating it. But we’re not here for that, the lovely goddess that I want to appreciate today is underrated as hell and basically an antagonist to Persephone blah blah whatever, me personally I’ve always loved her design and I genuinely think she’s peak character design. The amazing goddess that we all know and hopefully love is Hestia! And everyone clapped.

Yeahh so I thought I would hype my girl up more because genuinely I don’t like how the story treats her at fucking all. First off, I hated how they got rid of her original colors and made her look like an off brand Hera it’s really annoying and I wish they actually had character sheets down. Hestia was always right about everything I don’t care and everyone tried to make it seem like she was a prude, y’all just can’t fathom that Hades is a bad guy and that it would do Persephone good to stay away from him. Hestia has common sense, she’s a sensible and rational lady and she’s the only character that I still tolerate and hasn’t been affected by bad characterization that we see for every single fucking chapter. I adore her interactions with others and I genuinely feel like if the narrative wanted to make her some sort of antagonist or villain at least make her a cooler more threatening kind. I’m thinking live action Kaa from the Jungle Book Movie, we all know that Hestia is a very reserved and relaxed goddess so if you really did want to make her intimidating you could use that to your advantage. Like honestly, why did she have to be such a small role in a plot that took up three seasons?? It’s annoying and she deserved more screen time for my sanity.

Next I would like to talk about how fans treated her. I once answered an inbox that stated that some fans actually make disgusting comments about her weight and body type to insult her all because she took the damn coat from Persephone. It’s immature and incredible insensitive to go around saying stuff like that and it’s even harder to give stans the benefit of a doubt when they’re starting shit like this. I absolutely love how people try and defend themselves by saying it’s fictional while still going beyond the line just because you don’t like what this fictional character did. You should never insult someone’s body I don’t give a fuck how mad you are you don’t go around doing that because your favorite character got brought back to reality. It makes me sick I even have to say this, I genuinely feel like Rachel herself should actually call her fans out because this is a common theme for the fandom and I’m tired of seeing it. I don’t care about the whole “she’s a creator she’s not responsible for the ignorance of other people” statement when she has full fucking control over her fans and she’s obviously very active in the fandom. I’m not saying that she should just hound them like dogs whenever she can but I am saying that this is a big issue and since she is active in the community and she wants to be praised for all of this representation that she gives she shouldn’t be allowing people to openly insult fat characters as harshly as people do. It’s time to actually address it.

Speaking of representation, I absolutely hate how fat women in this fucking comic have little to no screen time at all. It’s so incredibly annoying since they always look so good, I can only count three women that we’ve seen in the entire LO series alone with Hestia’s body type and I hate how their beauty only gets seen once or twice every blue moon. Not all women have big boobs, perfect waist, and big butts and that’s okay. I would love to see more body diversity and I would absolutely love it if the few characters who represent different bodies be shown as more than villains. Hestia didn’t have to be an antagonist and we could’ve gotten more chapters of her and Persephone bonding, she could’ve been the one to show Persephone around and she could’ve been the one to explain to Persephone why Demeter is the way she is. She also could’ve been a strong figure in her support group or even a reminder of the mortal realm, hell she could’ve even been the cool auntie! Just anything except for this character that’s only there for you to hate.

Besides my nitpicks though I absolutely loved her wardrobe. She wears more clothes than Persephone is all I’ll say (I only say that because I genuinely feel like some of the things she wears is the same thing.. But that’s only because of all the white she wears all. the. time. It gets confusing as hell) and I really love how well they go with her personality and overall just how pretty she looks in them. Like honestly you’d think she got blessed twice with beauty by the way she just effortlessly outdoes everyone in the main cast, won’t even talk about Hera.

I also really love her personality, do I love that the comic wants us to believe she’s super strict and partially an ass kisser? No she deserves better than that. I love all of her facial expressions and the way that she delivers her lines, something about it makes me cackle and it’s only because I imagine it being put so bluntly and so straight forward. Like I get the feeling she has no chill when she says things and it makes me giggle every single time, I’ve always thought of her as a little portal to LO because in many ways I understand every single emotion she’s ever had especially towards Persephone and Hades. Stop acting like she’s crazy yall I’m begging you, to be frank with you I feel like she’s the only one that does genuinely care about Persephone because I just see her being a caring person. I don’t think that she’s evil or strict or any of that, I believe that just like Demeter she wants to see Persephone being free and happy and obviously something about Hades (we all know why) isn’t giving her the idea that she will be free and happy.

Again going back to her original character design, it was peak character everything. The colors were so pretty and it really did match her nicely, I will forever be sad that I’ll never see more content of her but hey at least they did her a decent job on the recent episodes. Despite the whole Persephone and Demeter conversation she looked absolutely stunning and I was just so focused on her for the most part.

Anyways, that’s all I’ve got to say for her now but the praise will not stop just at this post. I really do hope that Hestia will continue to live her life peacefully and completely cut Persephone out because she genuinely gets on my nerves and I have a feeling that the feeling is mutual for Hestia.

[fabulousprancingtrashstallion]

Why I despise Book!Mistle

I felt the need to write this based off this comment. "if she wanted Ciri could have stopped herself from being raped." Like, wow, way to victim blame, buddy. Honestly, I am shocked there is any question this was rape. I studied psychology so I could go into a big rant about it, but I will try to keep this short. Let's start here. People argue it's not Stockholm, but what IS Stockholm syndrome? "Stockholm syndrome is a psychological response that occurs when hostages or abuse victims' bond with their captors or abusers. This psychological connection develops over the course of the days, weeks, months, or even years of captivity or abuse."

People who have Stockholm syndrome have:

Positive feelings toward the captors or abusers.

Sympathy for their captors’ beliefs and behaviors.

Negative feelings toward authority figures.

Although Stockholm syndrome was named based on the location of a bank robbery-hostage situation, some of the same behaviors and feelings are seen in victims of other types of trauma, including:

Sexual, physical and emotional abuse.

Child abuse.

Coach-athlete abuse. One example might be athletes who agree to extreme, abusive workouts because they believe the coach knows what’s best for them.

Human sex trafficking.

Other symptoms are similar to post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and include:

Flashbacks.

Feeling distrustful, irritated, jittery or anxious.

Can’t relax or enjoy things that you previously enjoyed.

Trouble concentrating.

I am confident in saying that Ciri's sympathetic behavior towards Mistle and the Rats was a survival skill. So, with that out of the way let's take a look at what happened.

Ciri was about to be raped by Kayleigh when Mistle saved her. Her aggressor just saved her. She is now trusted by Ciri. Ciri is grateful. She finally feels safe after having lost her parent figures, being lost in the desert, losing her powers, losing little horse, being kidnapped by trappers and nearly raped. Not only by the rats, but one of the trappers suggested they wanted to take her into the barn. Let us not forget. Ciri is emotionally and physically drained. So, what has Mistle done? She is pretending to save her. That she's only here to comfort her. That what she's doing is to make her feel nice. She's playing the game. That is part of the grooming and strategy of perpetrators. "Quiet, everything is fine." Mistle tells her. How many abuse victims have heard these words I wonder? Mistle proceeds to touch Ciri without her consent. This is rape, but now Ciri is trapped between a rock and a hard place. She has a choice. She could be raped by Kayleigh or she can be raped by Mistle... well... Kayleigh has a weapon between his thighs. Mistle doesn't. Which one is worse to be raped by? It is a shit choice, but she has to make a choice and she makes it. For Ciri it comes down to "This is the price of not being alone." "The price of protection" "The price of safety and security" To suggest that Mistle could not have raped Ciri because they form a bond is naive. Many people have bonds with a partner who is a narcissist, but does that mean they were not abused by said narcissist? No. It does not. It is clear from the shame and the disgust that this is something that she did not want. To suggest that "because it felt good, it was not rape" is naive. Pleasure during the act is not proof that Ciri wanted it to happen. Many, many rape victims struggle with shame over this very issue. It does NOT mean they wanted to be raped. What happens next to further prove this? It says she RAN to the river to try to wash away what had been done to her with TEARS. If it was someone you enjoyed being with you wouldn't want to wash that away. You would want it to linger on your skin. No matter what way you look at it this is NOT a healthy relationship. Mistle is a rapist. I think it really culminates with Hotspurn, but that is another post entirely. If Sapkowsk didn't mean for this to be a rape scene and instead some epic romance? He did a pretty shitty job.

[paradiseinaverno]

Morpheus falling in love with a human hcs?!?

morpheus falling in love with a human (gn!)

part one part two (soon)

this ended up being so long that i’m going to make a part two purely because i enjoy this so much .

lowercase intended !

i think he’d actually be very resistant to it at first, especially post-burgess imprisonment

and if we’re being honest, he probably wouldn’t be the type to approach you in every day life

morpheus would notice you from your dreams, from either the comfortable simplicity of them, or the erratic nature from time to time.

honestly, he wonders how one human has the capacity to think up such a variety of dreams, and at a daily (or nightly) rate, too.

and it’s this thought that slowly seeps into his mind, leading him to monitor your dreams from time to time. out of pure curiosity, of course, but after a few weeks he realises that perhaps this…intrigue, is caused by something that has entirely too much to do with emotion.

still, he can’t help himself. neither can you, though; it would be a blatant lie if you said you didn’t sleep purely to see this mystical man in your dreams each night. whether he was aware of this or not, you’re not sure. you’re only sure of how deep the desire to glimpse his face is. so should it come as a surprise to anyone, when one dream you decide to speak to him?

he’s shocked. partly because of your sentience, and (mostly) because of his presence in your dream. so shocked, in fact, that he waves his hand all too abruptly, and you wake up…unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

in fact, you feel as though sleep and dreams have forsaken you for the rest of the week. no matter how hard you try, no matter how weary you are, sleep does not come. neither do daydreams.

does morpheus feel guilty? perhaps. is it even lawful for the king of dreams to deny a human the chance to dream? he’s not entirely sure. but after lucienne and matthew’s constant chiding (because even they, in a limited time, have grown fond of you), he relents.

so the next time you attempt to sleep, you find yourself actually sleeping, to your relief. soon, you find yourself back in this dream-world, and sure enough, there he is, gazing at you with dark eyes and barely concealed curiosity.

it doesn’t last for long though, because you’re angry. you haven’t slept or dreamed for a week, and you have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with this broody looking man across a field from you. so what do you do?

you jab a finger into the king of dreams’ chest, and you give him a piece of your mind.

“do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

he doesn’t speak, just stares at you in awe. and though morpheus has quite literally been to hell and back, he finds he’s never been quite as frightened as he is now.

he thinks you still look lovely, even in rage.

when you’ve finished your (well deserved) rant, he just blinks.

and then, “i’m terribly sorry that you haven’t slept for a week.”

his voice is deep. rich, and deep, as if every star in the galaxy has loaned a ray of light to him. it settles in your bones, and despite your anger, you can’t help but say, “it’s alright. i think. i’d just like to sleep, please. i enjoy it.”

“yes. your dreams are quite…eccentric. i’ve missed them.”

even morpheus is surprised with how forward (for him) he’s being. it’s not that he’s never had lovers; rather, he’s become cautious around humans, considering recent events. but something about you feels incredibly safe, even though he only knows you in dreams.

“eccentric?”

“i meant no offence.”

you smile. “none taken. i’m glad my dreams bring you some type of happiness.”

you’re not sure how time works in this place, but for what you think is the next hour, you learn his name, he learns yours. morpheus gives you the background, and though you know you’re dreaming, a part of you is convinced this is all real

“this is real.”

“i never said it wasn’t!”

at some point, when you feel the meadow around you slipping slightly (the grass feels incredibly real, you think), you know it’s time to wake up. the problem is, you don’t really feel like leaving just yet.

but you have responsibilities, just like the king of dreams has his. and even you are able to notice the awe in his eyes as he bids you goodbye

there’s an air around him as he does so, something almost…it’s tangible, and you can only think of it as encapsulating. there is a man with entire stars in his eyes, standing in front of you with what can only be described as pure restraint, and you’re leaving.

it’s almost like he can read your mind (and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could), when he says, “it would be…i would like you to visit this realm again.”

your heart thrums with hope. “you’d like me to visit?”

he doesn’t answer you directly. as is the nature of dreams, the king himself can be very vague.

in fact, you don’t really get a response. you just wake up, heart still thrumming between your ribs, morning light filtering through your windows.

oh. so it was all a dream in the end.

but, as you get out of bed, you’re not quite sure if dreams can produce the flower that lays neatly on the middle of your bedside.

thank you for the request ! all feedback (good a d bad) is appreciated - and if anybody would like to be added to the tag list for any future sandman fics, please let me know!

[mazikomo]

requesting modern Silco HC for when Jinx is in high school. and I mean everything! prom? driving lessons? suffering through trig homework together? EVERYTHING

☆sher

hope these cheer you up a bit 💜

Prom 

Silco was all prepared to drop a lot of money on whatever dress Jinx wanted only for her to go get one from a thrift store 

he’s extremely close to volunteering to have the event hosted at his club so he can keep an eye on everything but he knows Jinx would hate it 

the school wouldn’t agree to it anyway. Prom at a rowdy nightclub downtown? Every parents nightmare 

she has a date, a boy named Ekko she’s been seeing. He’s smart and treats her right but Silco still cranks up his intimidation factor whenever the boy is around 

Jinx having a date though means she won’t be begging him to drive his ’60 Electra which he’s relieved about 

of course, he’s breathless when she comes down the stairs. His little girl is all dressed up and going to prom 

she’s still wearing chunky boots though 

they take tons of pictures together 

he gives Ekko his famous stink eye as they leave 

“I expect her home at a reasonable hour.” 

there’s tugs at his heartstrings as he watches them pull out of the driveway

it's a bigger deal for him than it is for her

Driving Lessons 

Jinx has been working on cars long before she reached driving age so she’s a bit of a natural 

Silco is surprised he’s not as nervous as he was expecting the first time she’s behind the wheel with him in the passenger seat 

her car is a ’74 Volkswagen Thing that she got out of a junkyard and fixed up

it’s a stick shift and she can pop the clutch like a master 

Silco’s favorite feature is it’s top speed being 68mph (109 kmh) and the more modern safety features he made her add

driver picks the music so Silco’s been listening to a lot of Dodo Cat and Billie Eyelash 

honestly? he’s happy she’s getting her license

she's becoming more independent and sure of herself

plus, he doesn’t have to listen to complaints from both sides when he has to ask Sevika to take her somewhere when he’s unable too 

Jinx uses her driving lessons as an opportunity to teach Silco how to reduce wear and tear on a vehicle 

“See? If you do a gradual stop like this you don’t wear down the break pads so much that I have to replace them every few months.”

she’s a better driver than him

Homework 

he’s does not understand why she has so much homework. He didn’t have that much when he was in school? 

why does she have homework for art class???

she’s never needed help with science or math

Silco’s decent with numbers but glancing at her calculus homework made him blink a few times 

they’re both at a loss when it comes to English 

“Not everything is that deep.” “I know but I can’t keep writing that as an answer!” 

she had the best persuasive speech in the class though since he knows exactly what to say to people to get the results he wants

even when he doesn’t care about the topic (why dark is the best pokemon type)

he’s a bit of a history nerd 

Jinx has to chose her moments of asking for help because he’ll delve into the events about how everything is connected 

he likes a good revolutionary documentary okay?

his best subject is economics 

Jinx has to drag the worksheets away from him because he’ll write entire rants in the short response sections about controlling the market properly 

he may or may not have emailed her econ teacher about how they’re teaching it completely wrong and understand nothing 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨4

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) only plot hehe

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m at my tipping point, I swear. I’m dealing with everything in our household, new bed (delayed delivery yay!), cleaning, cooking, dog walking, and working. My only escape are my fics and this weekend I’m telling everyone to fuck off so I can do the writeathon... but sorry for the rant, enjoy more Clark.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Wednesday trickled by like sand in a glass. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you typed away and a double espresso shot was the only thing that saw you through your hours at the gallery. Vanessa was excited for her next event and already asking after some new pieces from you. You promised her some from your storage unit to stave her off as you held in your yawns. 

You collapsed into bed that night beside Marcus. He complained about his day until he drifted off and you followed suit shortly after. You awoke with a decision, the echoes of your boyfriend’s gripes in your head and heart. You hated how miserable his job made him, how dull your own was. It felt like there was nothing else but the almighty dollar.

You called Clark after an email to Jim, your nerves alight in anticipation of the disgruntled reply. It didn’t matter. You were done. You didn’t need to worry about the all caps messages and curt zoom calls.

“Hey,” Clark picked up, he sounded out of breath.

“Oh, hey, sorry, it’s me,” you swiveled in your chair, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nope, just getting in a work out,” he grunted, “you’re not bugging me if you have good news for me.”

“I think… I do,” you forced out, “I just sent in my resignation.”

“Mmm, you don’t sound… happy,” he hummed.

“I am, I think I’m just processing it,” you replied, “I said I’d let you know today so I’m letting you know.”

“Well, how soon can you be here?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I guess, I could leave as soon as you want me,” you said.

“I’ll send a car,” he intoned, “I’ll give the driver your number, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” your voice almost squeaked, “I can do that.”

“Alright, sweetheart, see ya soon.”

The line cut out and you lowered your phone slowly. You stared at Outlook and the new email icon along the taskbar. You closed the laptop and stood. You could worry about the fallout later, right now, you had to get ready for another day of painting.

🎨

It was starting to feel like deja vu every time you arrived at Clark’s house. You got out and thanked the drive, Jeremy, before he drove off. The doors opened before you got to the top of the steps and your host was already dressed in the same outfit he wore for each session. His hair was neat but his beard was even thicker than before.

“I think you can tell I’m a little antsy to start,” he chuckled, “how are you, sweetheart?”

That pet name caught in your mind again. It might just be a habit of his. Nothing more than an absent-minded word.

“Me too, honestly,” you smiled, “but I have a weird question for you.”

“Ask away,” he said as he walked with you through the foyer.

“The beard… you want that in the portrait or--”

“Oh, ha, yeah,” he ran his fingers along his jawline, “I guess I wasn’t thinking. You’re the artist, what do you think?”

“Well, erm, either way is fine,” you said, “I was just… wondering. I’m not even close to starting on, uh, you yet. I mean, right now I’m just working on the background and basic shapes.”

“I’ll let you make the call when you get there,” he said, “say the word and it’s gone.”

“Alright,” you came to the top of the stairs and he pointed you ahead of him.

He followed you as you entered and you went about filling the jar with water and resituating the set up. He sat as you mixed and chose your brush. You climbed the ladder and peered around the canvas at him. He took on the same pose as usual and you dipped the bristles into the pigment. You could make a happy life of this.

🎨

Clark shifted and cleared his throat. You rolled your wrist and glanced back over at him as you drew your hand back from the canvas. He braced the chair and pushed himself up.

“How about a break?” he asked as he shook out his arms, “back’s a bit stiff.”

“Sure,” you said, “I think I could sit down for a moment.”

You took a step down the rung of the ladder but your toe slipped and suddenly your palette was against your chest. You slid down backwards as Clark rushed over and barely kept you from toppling the entire thing over. You laughed at yourself as he righted you and looked down at your paint-streaked shirt.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“You okay?” he asked as he kept his hand on your upper arm, “be careful.”

“Yeah, I’m-- clumsy, is all,” you carefully pulled away and set down your brush and palette.

“Come on, sit,” he pulled up the stool and planted it before you, “take a minute.”

As you sat, he stretched his arms over his head and then out to the sides. He paced around the other side of the table, long strides as he worked the cramps from his long legs. He stopped and came up to play with a brush as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“Well, I did have another offer for you,” he said, “I was thinking of waiting but might as well ask now.”

“Oh?” you raised your brows curiously.

He swished a slender brush in the air then lowered it and picked at the tip.

“I’m having a get together on Saturday, some business friends and the like,” he said as he set the brush back with the rest, “it won’t be work. You’ve earned some time off. You can even bring the boyfriend.”

“Saturday?” you pondered, “I’m usually at the gallery on Saturdays.”

“It would be great networking,” he said, “and I already told all my friends about you. They’re excited to see your work. It will almost be like a viewing and it’s only right the artist is there.”

“I could make it work,” you mulled, “Marcus would love to come back.” You snickered, “he loves this place.”

“It’s a nice house,” he said casually, “a bit big for one person… hence, the party.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” you stood and slid your palette closer and cleaned it off to remix the mess of paints.

“Great,” he said as he rounded the table and brushed close to you, “it’ll be nice to look at a mug besides mine, huh?”

You laughed as you squeezed out the dark paint and nodded, “ha, sure.”

🎨

The rest of your week was spent much the same. Jeremy drove you to Clark’s and you went up to the studio to continue your work between small talk and silences that grew so thick you had to break them with mindless comments. It wasn’t enough to focus on the path of your brush as the man tugged at your attention.

Marcus was excited when you told him about the party. He raved about how he needed to let loose, about how much expensive alcohol he was going to drink, and the awesome backflip he was gonna do into the pool. You reminded him, he hadn’t done anything like that since college but he swore he could still do it.

You didn’t share the sentiment. You were anxious. You were flattered to be invited but despite what Clark said, it still felt like work. His friends were going to be there and he apparently was trying to sell them on your art. 

You didn’t realise until after you hit send on your email, but you put your livelihood in this man’s hands. A man, you reminded yourself, who was little more than a stranger.

On Friday, a day you were thankfully not called to the mansion to teeter on the ladder and paint, the buzzer rang and drew you off the couch from amid your YouTube binge. The man on the speaker called back that he had a delivery and you let him up. You took the box from him, the thick silver ribbon giving away the sender even before you could read the tag.

Inside you found a black dress with little gemstones set into the fabric like stars in the sky. It was nicer than anything you’d ever owned before and a pair of silver shoes were tucked in beneath the outfit. You took the shoes from the tissue paper and something else shifted in the bottom.

You reached in and revealed a velvet box from the depths of overzealous stuffing. You opened the lid and found a simple chain of diamonds. You gaped in disbelief. They were real. The fake ones didn’t look so nice.

You phone chimed before you could even think to call Clark. It was as if he could see you. You answered and your voice warbled pathetically.

“Hi, I was just gonna call,” you touched your throat as it constricted.

“Yeah? I got the notification that it was delivered,” he said, “you like it?”

“It’s too much,” you gulped out, “really, I can’t--”

“I want you to look nice. I want you to feel good and have a good time,” he said, “I feel like you’ve been working so hard. You need a chance to just let it all go.”

“Look, I…” you were uncertain how to handle it. It was more than generosity but you felt wrong denying it as much as you did accepting it, “I’ve never had a boss buy me diamonds. At least let me give those back.”

“Boss?” he mused on the word, “I suppose, but you gotta dress the part now, sweetheart. You’re gonna rub shoulders with a lot of rich dicks like me. Pardon my language.”

“I didn’t realise it was such an upscale thing,” you put the velvet box down and turned to sit on the couch beside the large box. You played with the silver ribbon and chewed your lip.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing, you got this,” he said, “trust me, if you can win me over, my friends will be child’s play.”

“Mhmmm,” you stared at the tv mindlessly, “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

There was silence and you heard him sigh then a subtle metallic click.

“Because I can. And you’re a talented artist. Didn’t all the big painters used to have patrons back in the day? You know, Da Vinci and all that.”

“Sure, I guess--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m glad you like the dress, I gotta go.”

He hung up abruptly and you turned your phone to stare at it in confusion. You were starting to get a bad feeling and that little voice in that back of your head, that little sabotaging bitch, whispered in your ear. No, you wouldn’t let your self-doubt get the best of you this time. You either grabbed this chance or you spent the rest of your life doing menial work and painting the world as it passed you by.

🎨

Friday night, Marcus couldn’t stop rambling about the party the next day. You just couldn’t get over the tickle in your chest, the same one you got before job interviews and doctor’s appointments. You were on edge, even as you spent your stress on him, your body writhing against his as you panted and pouted. It had been a while since you fucked. All the work and the stress had just let things slip past you. Maybe with your new gig, you could get back to those early days when it was all you wanted to do.

You slept soundly. You blamed the sex and the momentous week. You got up, had a lazy brunch time meal, and beat Marcus at MarioKart several times over before he convinced you it was time to get ready. 

You pulled on the gifted outfit after fighting with your make-up and hair. You gave a little tada spin to Marcus and he lifted his brow as he tried to figure out his tie.

“Wow, where’d you get that?” he purred, “fuck, let’s be late.”

He ran his hands over your hips as you neared him and fixed his tie for him. You giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jeremy’s on his way,” you warned, “I don't wanna bite the hand that feeds.”

“Oh, and it feeds you well,” Marcus chirped, “you think he’ll let me have a spin in the McClaren?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. I don’t need to scrape you off the side of the road,” you took your phone as the screen lit up, “come on, he’s here.”

“Fuck, babe, really, you’re gonna make me follow you out of here with your ass looking like that?”

“Stop,” you tittered, “you know, there might be more sellers tonight?”

“Oh yeah? I guess you’ll be paying a mortgage soon enough.”

“Me?” you scoffed.

“Sure, I’ll be your sugar baby,” he kidded.

“Well, baby is accurate,” you teased as you stepped onto the elevator, “please, just behave.”

🎨

You were surprised to see Vanessa at the party but reassured to see a familiar face. Clark had been distracted by his other guests and you did your best to mingle, letting Marcus take the lead until he was distracted by another guest’s Rolex and started asking too many questions. If you did start selling art to these kinds, you suspected you’d be paying for a lot of overpriced brands. That was a worry for another time.

You stood with Vanessa and a man she introduced you to. Bruce Wayne was tall and his dark-hair was combed back neatly as he spoke over the glass of wine in his hand. You were bored of the Monet-Manet argument, one you’d heard a million times from the stubborn gallery owner, and you were at your limit of socialisation.

You excused yourself and put down your unfinished drink on a table. You looked around but couldn’t see Marcus anywhere. The last you saw him, he was with Clark but you couldn’t find him either. You frowned and wandered between the pairs and trios gabbing around the room.

Just past the bar, you looked back and still no sign of either man. You huffed and your heels clicked into the foyer and to the stairs. You’d go to the studio and sit for a moment and collect yourself. You just needed to take a breath.

You climbed the stairs slowly, the din of the party floating up behind you. You came to the top but stopped as your eyes were drawn to a pair of open doors opposite the studio. You neared and stayed against the wall as you peeked inside. Marcus admired an old-six shooter and spun the barrel.

“You got everything, man, I swear,” you hid behind the door frame and listened.

“Eh, it’s all just things,” Clark replied, “I bought that from an auctioneer down in Texas. A verified antique but it just hangs here. Not good for much but looking at it.”

“Dude, what I wouldn’t do to live here? Have cool guns and even cooler cars? Shit, you know how fucked it is that my lady is making bank and I’m over here with my dick in my hands? I mean, I’m proud of her but… I mean, if I could get paid thousands for drawing, I would’ve tried to learn.”

“She’s good. Dedicated,” Clark remarked, “she’s special. Worth more than money.”

Marcus hummed and you heard the barrel click back into the place. Neither of the men spoke as you heard something shift and Clark cleared his throat. Subtle footsteps moved around the room and you pressed yourself to the wall. You should leave and let them talk but you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Isn’t she?” Clark prodded.

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know. I just wish I had more,” Marcus said, “I probably sound like a chump, huh?”

“You can’t have it all,” Clark replied.

“Says the guy who can buy anything and everything,” Marcus moped.

“Oh?” Clark intoned, “so… how about it then? Fifty thousand.”

“For what?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Her,” Clark answered.

“Her-- I… my girlfriend?” he sputtered.

“If money can buy me anything, that’s what I want,” Clark said firmly, “it’s a one time offer… whether or not you agree to it, I’m gonna fuck her.”

You skin crawled at his words and you covered your mouth in disgust and shock. You inched closer to the door to hear better as you waited for the response.

“One hundred,” Marcus said.

“Seventy-five,” Clark countered.

“That’s my girlfriend, dude,” Marcus hissed.

“And yet you’re haggling with me over her. Eighty.”

You tore yourself from the wall before you could hear anymore. You felt hollow and heavy all at once. Your eyes were glossy as you scurried over to the studio doors and pushed the left one open. You unhooked the diamond necklace and tossed it onto the paint-stained palette and rolled up your brushes.

You stormed over blindly to the easel and pushed it over. It clattered to the floor loudly but you were already out the door and halfway down the stairs. You gripped your clutch and the bundle of paintbrushes tightly as you continued on outside and the blurred outlines of luxury cars passed you by. 

You stomped up the long drive in your heels as you flicked away tears and pulled out your phone. You knew it was too good to be true. Any of it; your art, Clark, Marcus. You weren’t good for anyone unless they could get something out of you.

[youngbloodslut]

celebrity crush | 2/??

a/n: the first interview is mostly based off of dove cameron and ava max’s interviews with popbuzz

summary: actress! reader somehow manages to bring up her crush on calum hood in every interview

pairing(s): calum hood x reader, platonic! reader x tom holland

warning(s): swearing? slight mentions of kinks

“She’s at it again mate,” Ashton smirked as he carried his laptop over to Calum who was sat on the sofa. He flipped open the computer and hit play on y/n y/l/n’s newest interview.

“C’mon, I don’t wanna-” Calum rubbed his hand over is face and shook his head.

Ashton ignored him and turned up the volume to drown out his protest. “Shhh.. watch.”

“Hey guys, I’m y/n y/l/n and this is the Pop Buzz Tower of Truth.” You spoke as the title popped up on screen.

“I think I’m gonna end up tipping it before I can even get one block out,” You said as you tried to carefully pull of a wooden block. 

“That will never work,” Calum heard a voice from off camera say and recognized it as Tom Holland. He tried not to frown as you laughed and mocked him.

“Y’know what, we’re leaving that one.” You laughed, leaving the original block alone and easily pulling out another block.

“There we go. Okay, what was the last movie or tv show that make you cry? Dead Poets Society. I love Dead Poets Society so much and Tom had never seen it so we watched it after finishing yesterdays interviews.” You placed the block on top of the tower. “And he cried.”

The camera crew laughed as Tom shouted a, “Hey!”

“Tell us one thing about you that we don’t know. Um, this is hard because I’m always saying stuff that I shouldn’t be. Um, I’m an Oxford comma worshiper.” You said, unsure whether or not that’s interesting enough.

“Oxford comma?” A crew member behind the camera questioned.

“Yeah, y’know, the comma that comes before ‘and’ when making a list. I hate that people don’t use it because then I get all confused. Like if I were to write ‘Lizzie, Tom, and Robert are going to the party’ and I don’t add a comma before ‘and’ then it seems like Tom and Robert would be arriving at the party together. But some people who don’t use the Oxford comma could mean that all three people were showing up separately so I never know. Y’know what I mean?”

The camera crew were all silent after her rant and Calum chuckled a bit to himself. He thought it was cute that you were so passionate about the smallest things. Ashton looked over to him as Calum admired you through the screen. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Calum secretly liked how much you talked about him.

“No,” Tom responded honestly

“Ugh,” You rolled your eyes dramatically and looked into the camera, “See, these are the type of guys you got to look out for: Un-grammarly men.” You joked.

“Un-grammarly isn’t a thing.” Tom laughed.

“Well if it were a thing, you’d be one.” You fired back at Tom.

“Anyway, who is your favorite artist right now? Um, probably Wallows, I love them and their music.”

“I was really expecting Calum Hood to be honest.” Tom shouted from across the room.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just forgot about him like that. I love you Calum Hood. I love 5sos.” You held up your hands into a heart shape and moved your hands from side to side. 

You then dropped them and grabbed another block. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that people are actually going to see these interviews. Like, he could literally see this. Dude, I hope he doesn’t.” You paused, “Oh god, do you think he knows about my crush on him?” You had been mentioning him for years and it had never once occurred to you that he could actually see these. 

Calum laughed at the irony of the situation. Here he was watching a video of you saying you hoped he’d never see said video.

“This is humiliating.” You mumbled though you didn’t seem to actually care, “Who was your first celebrity crush? Oh uh, definitely Andrew Garfield. I remember when I first watched the Social Network and I was like obsessed. My friend and I both watched it over 10 times within like two months. And then would continuously make Mark Zuckerberg jokes. But of course, Calum Hood now owns my heart.” You put the block on top of the tower. “I’m actually doing really good, I thought I’d knock it down by now.”

“Describe in detail the worst date you’ve ever been on. Okay so I was like fifteen right, and, well I’m not even sure if this counts as a date. I think he considered it a date so I guess it was but basically we were in the car, he was sixteen so he could drive. We were in the drive through, we had already ordered, and he started feeling around in is pockets and I was like oh god, cause I knew what was about to happen. He was like, ‘oh no i think i lost my wallet’, and I was like its fine I’ll pay. I really didn’t mind. I ended up paying, we got our drinks and without missing a beat, we hadn’t even pulled out of the drive through, he was like’oh here’s my wallet.’ I really didn’t mind paying for my coffee, I wouldn’t mind paying for both of our coffees. But him going out of his way to lie, and then not even lie well, was so irritating.” She placed the block on the top and picked up a new one.

“What is the most useless idem you’ve ever purchased? Um, I bought a seven foot giraffe while I saw drunk once.” The block was added to the top, the tower now taller than you. “He’s in my living room if you wanted to know.”

You grabbed the next block carelessly, immediately regretting it when the tower fell behind you, “Oh shit, well I guess we’re done then.” You said nonchalantly, looking at the blocks on the floor. “I don’t think I’ll be playing this again anytime soon. Love you guys,” You held up your hands, “Love you Calum Hood.” You winked before the outro began to play.

“She must really love you, Cal.” Ashton poked Calum’s cheek annoyingly, “She’s got no shame.”

Calum wouldn’t admit it, but as soon as he got home he looked you up again. He clicked on the same video Ashton showed him and scrolled through the comments. 

y/nscalumhoodkink: MOMOMOMOMOMOM

datemey/n: Queen of Jenga

ashtonfletchersbitch: Y/N LITERALLY IS ME

5esohes: no because y/n y/l/n and calum hood together is my kink

noemptywalletshere: not only does y/n own this fandom, but my ass too

He couldn’t help but laugh at the comments no matter how interesting they were. But something in the back of his head kept yelling at him. She doesn’t acting like you. Shes just likes your music, nothing more. He sighed and clicked out of the video and was about the close his laptop when his cursor handed on a video. 

Y/n Y/l/n foaming at the mouth while talking about Calum Hood for 5 minutes straight.

He clicked on it a little too quickly and waited for it too load. 

“Calum Hood choke me challenge.” You stuck out your tongue and threw up a peace sign with an innocent look plastered on here face. 

“Bro imagine if Calum Hood saw this?” “Oh he would definitely fall for you after this video”

The third thing to pop up was a tweet from 2015 just saying: #marrymecalumhood

“Calum Hood send me hand pics. This is a demand, not a request.”

Calum continued to watch the entire video. Normally, the thirsty comments would have made him uncomfortable, but them coming from you made his heart race and cheeks flush.

God, what was happening to him?

[juneisafantasyaddict]

If LB wanted The Darkling to be pure evil, there are literally a lot of things she could have done. But giving him a sympathetic backstory that is actually a legitimate reason for him to turn out the way he did was definitely not the way to do it. If she wanted pure evil, she could’ve given him a backstory that’s just a ridiculous sob story, not “for hundreds of years my people have been hunted and killed because of prejudice and no one did anything about it until I had enough power to.” Do you even realize how easy it is to get people to be on your side when what you want more than anything is for your people to be safe from harm?? That’s literally why we don’t get mad at heroes for killing people, it’s because we know they are protecting vulnerable people.

I’ve seen people say The Darkling is like Magneto (re: his fight against what was happening to mutants), and while that comes close, I think The Darkling is even more sympathetic because at least the XMen had the good sense to have Charles Xavier there to provide a more humane/viable alternative to Magneto’s solutions, and we got to see the difference between their methods. But, in the Grishaverse, we have a monarchy in Ravka that only sees the Grisha as useful for war but also doesn’t let them own property, we have a heroine who doesn’t seem to care about anything except meadows and her childhood crush, we have the entire country of Ravka that seems to only like dead Grisha because “new saint to build a cult over,” then we have the only person who seems to prioritize the protection of these people who have no one and we’re supposed to care that he’s ruthless with anyone he perceives as a threat to his people? When you haven’t given us a viable alternative to his methods? To make matters even worse, he’s not even imagining these threats, he is literally reacting to their aggression, e.g Fjerdans come for Alina, he uses the cut, Zlatan sends an assassin to infiltrate his secure building and kill Alina, but ends up killing another Grisha under his care, he kills the assassin and does Novikribirsk, etc.

This is not a justification of his ruthless methods of punishment for those who are threats to him and his people, this is a “you cannot expect me to focus entirely on his methods when he’s literally the only reason why his people have any semblance of protection” rant. The heroine who we think is going to save the day is basically dragged through her character development and all her progress is destroyed very quickly because of this ridiculous need to pretend that the underdog is always right (Mal, power is evil, blah blah blah).

Somehow, we’re supposed to just be ok with the fact that a group of people who haven’t exactly showed that they care about Grisha suffering are going to save them from prosecution? I mean, let’s not forget that this group includes: Mal who we already know is prejudiced against Grisha, Alina who *sigh* so much potential wasted there, Nikolai who I have decided exists for comic relief because I will not be convinced that a “maybe prince who is also a Jack sparrow type pirate should be king of a country with very complex social and political situations.” Like, I’m looking at this group of supposed saviors and honestly, I would rather take my chances with the 500 year old extremely powerful Grisha who scares everyone. Let’s not even forget that we’re somehow supposed to consider Baghra one of the good guys for “warning Alina,” even though 2 episodes later, we basically see that Baghra doesn’t exactly care about the survival of the Grisha.

Give people a truly evil villain and we will act accordingly. Don’t give us a Magneto type villain with legitimate points and then expect us to treat him like Voldermot or something. You can even decide to not understand Magneto because hello, we are given real alternatives to his problem solving skills right away. But with The Darkling it’s just “he’s pure evil because I said so, but like also this is how he got here, but also he’s super evil, but like do you understand where he’s coming from? but also he’s super evil even though he has points.” That’s not a villain dear, that’s a good person doing bad things and needs to be shown a better way.

You can’t give me an antagonist with a compelling, truly tragic backstory and then be like “now that you understand why and how this character ended up in this dark place and you can see that all this was probably avoidable if so and so did/didn’t happen, let’s totally blow up their life because so what if they’ve deeply suffered?” Especially when there’s a path to redemption right there in the protagonist who you have made sure to establish has a deep bond/connection with this person.

You want to write pure evil? Give me a character that has no remorse, no capacity to care for anyone or anything else, no reason for his cruelty, etc. Don’t give me guy who uses his power to keep his people safe and then falls in love with his soulmate so deeply he can’t stop looking at her and holding her hand in front of the whole country.

Also, can we like actually address the issue that got Nina kidnapped, made the Darkling who he is, and forces all Grisha to basically only have one life plan?

It would be so much easier to believe that The Darkling is a villain if there was an actual alternative to him, but there isn’t.

And btw, in this age of social justice, the fact that LB didn’t think people will see the value in a person from a marginalized community doing whatever is necessary to free his people from oppression is just LOL.

Ok, incoherent rant over.

[princessofprocrastination]

Neglected (Dream)

MASTERLIST 

summary : it had became a habit that you’d show up at his house, but as time goes by, your efforts go to waste (angst) (fluff)

it didn’t matter if you were pretty busy or exhausted that day, you’d still show up at your boyfriend’s house no matter what. 

it used to be a ‘sometimes, only if you weren’t busy’ thing, just coming to make sure he has eaten, checking on sapnap as well and hanging out with them. but as the clock ticks, and your relationship prolonged, you seemed to always be at his house. 

sapnap never thought you were a bother. yeah, you asked. you didn’t want any of the two to feel uncomfortable at the fact that you were there often. but, sapnap reassured you that the both of them loved you being there. 

and also because you cooked for them all the time. 

being done with school for a while, you started working and starting your career, making you extremely busy, just like the two boys. sometimes, you don’t even show up until late. 

not that they were sleeping anyways. those two seemed to stay up late all the time. 

you enjoyed making food for them, trying new recipes, sending their plate of food to their rooms as they stream or are in a discord call with their friends. it made you happy seeing their eyes light up from seeing a hot and steaming plate of food delivered to them.

especially if it was homecooked. yum. 

but, as months go by, you start to notice a barrier between you and your boyfriend. now, you weren’t going to lie and say the both of you had been together for a long time, being long time partners, but you thought the honeymoon phase was going to last a little while longer. 

of course, you tried asking sapnap about it, texting him from time to time, making sure he didn’t get upset over a game or an argument online. 

nevertheless, sapnap himself didn’t know what was going on with his bestfriend. he thought dream was just doing fine, not knowing you felt that way. 

you told him not to worry about it, let alone talk to dream about it. you didn’t want it to be a big deal.

it wasn’t a big deal anyways, you just noticed the change of atmosphere. 

you still came over everyday, though. making food, making sure to make extra for leftovers just in case they woke up and got hungry and you weren’t there to make food. 

though it had become a routine at this point, the only person who seemed to appreciate it was sapnap. your boyfriend, however, seemed cold. 

“hey, i have food” you walked in the room after knocking at your boyfriend’s door. you had sent the other plate to sapnap’s just minutes ago. 

he barely gave you a glance, just only clicking the mute button after hearing you come in. that was how you knew he heard you. 

you set down the plate on his desk, where you had always made sure to clear out for him to eat while on his pc. you set down a cup right next to the plate with his drink, full. 

after which, you sat down on his bed, like you usually would to do some catching up on your laptop. usually it would be work since that was the only time you had during the day to finish it.

a couple hours later you finished you work and decided it was time to watch a couple youtube videos to reward yourself after a long day. 

you made sure you had on your airpods before watching anything so that it didn’t disrupt dream working. 

as you were watching the new mrbeast video, the one where he runs from a  bounty hunter, you start to catch a cold. 

not thinking of it, a small sneeze came out of you. and then another one came right after that. 

it was the type of sneeze that irritated the back of your throat, which usually meant that there was more sneezes to come and you were sure that you were falling ill. 

your eyes closed, as you tried to recover from your sneezes. you heard clicking from your boyfriend’s side. as you opened your eyes, you weren’t expecting him to be staring at you. 

thinking he was going to say ‘bless you’, you gave him a small smile. that was until he shouted at you. 

“can you shut up, karl’s entire stream literally heard you.” he raised his voice at you. you froze. 

sure, you’ve heard him scream from time to time, being mad or frustrated on his game but never to you. he had always seemed so kind and sweet to you. 

“fuck, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to.” you apologised. you genuinely didn’t mean for anyone to hear you, not especially if it was obvious to people that someone was accompanying dream in his room.

“just get out before you make another noise.” he reprimanded you. 

you stared at his figure as he went back to his game before picking up your laptop and leaving the room. 

you sat on the couch in his living room, trying to process what had just happened in that room. 

you calmed yourself before you started crying. you were expecting the day to end well, with you cuddling your boyfriend at the end of the night. 

things don’t usually go your way, do they? 

you were thinking of leaving. it was getting late, anyway. but you hadn’t cooked the next meal for the boys. 

so you did just that. you cooked a simple meal, putting it on the counter, leaving a note to tell them to put the plate into the microwave before eating. 

and off you go, back to your house. 

you weren’t offended, you’d say. you were sure he was mad at a game before getting off on you. you didn’t take any of his screaming to heart. 

what sucked at that moment was that you got a fever on top of your cold and no one to cuddle you. 

you didn’t get sick often, but when you did, you always had dream there for you. 

what you did have this time was sapnap texting you, thanking you for the food that you left on the table. 

the next day came and lucky you, it had been a weekend, and you planned to stay home all day, trying to fight off this stupid cold. 

you got on your phone to order food for the boys, trying to make sure they had food today. though it’s only the afternoon and they’ve probably just woken up, you wanted them to wake up to food waiting. 

after you ordered some mcdonalds for them, making sure to text sapnap about it. shockingly enough, he was awake and already showered. he thanked you for the food but questioned when you were going to come, noticing that there was only two meals. 

sick, can’t get out of bed. you texted him. 

what have you done today? he asked.

showered, and then back to bed. you told him truthfully.

eat and then take your meds. he advised you. you told him you’d do it later when you have the energy to. he didn’t try to go against you knowing how damn stubborn you are. 

also, he knew that you needed the extra rest and getting up while you’re still tired may result you to get into an accident or faint. 

so, he trusted you to remember to eat your medicine later. 

dream honestly didn’t bother asking why you were missing from his house that day. sure, he did notice, since the one who always giving him food while working had been you, and you didn’t do that. 

at some point during the day, dream became exhausted, or hungry, but was frustrated that he had no longer you to rely on for energy that day. 

that day wasn’t the only day you were absent from his house, it dragged out to days. 

the weird thing was, he didn’t get a single text from you all week, and that made his question if you were okay or not. 

“dude, get out of your cave and let’s watch a movie.” sapnap came in dream’s room in attempt to get him to accompany him in watching a movie with him in the living room. 

after some time, dream gave in and turned off his pc, finally getting up to stretch and leave his room. 

“there’s food for you on the table.” sapnap told dream. it must’ve been you who ordered it. but to be honest, he was missing the home cooked meals you always made for him. 

so he asked sapnap where you had been all week. 

“you’re not serious, are you?” sapnap asked dream. dream gave him a confused look back. 

“it took you this long to ask?” sapnap ranted about you being sick all week and not allowing him to visit in case you accidentally gave him the illness. 

he ranted about the fact dream didn’t bother to ask until now, when he selfishly said he missed your cooking, like you weren’t good for anything else but to feed him like a parent would. 

sure, sapnap and him had been friends for years, but that didn’t excuse him for being an idiot and making stupid decisions, especially about you. and for what? your sneezed being too distracting for the man. 

“fuck.” dream said. 

“yeah, fuck.” sapnap spat out, out of breath from ranting and not stopping to pull a breath. 

dream and him sat in silence, the weird kind of silence. the one where it’s obvious they were thinking of what to do next. 

sapnap sighed. “dude, seriously? go.” he told dream to go to your house to take care of you. 

dream ran to his room, grabbing his keys, wallet and phone and went straight to his car to drive to your place. 

on the way, he grabbed some of your favourite comfort food and flowers. he needed to make it up to you. 

he seriously got mad at you for sneezing? what a fucker. 

he opened your door with the spare key you gave him, making sure  he was quiet so he didn’t disrupt you if you were sleeping on the couch like you tend to do. 

he say the top of your head poking out slightly from the side of the couch. you were laying down on it, snuggled in one of your favourite blankets, watching tv.

“hey.” he slowly said, walking slowly to you, not really wanting to do anything abruptly in case you were mad. 

he saw your head move to tilt towards the voice. obviously you knew who was in your living room at the moment, you just weren’t expecting him to bring stuff. 

you sat up on the couch, bringing the blanket with you, making sure you were fully covered, not in the mood for the cold air to hit your feet. 

“i come bearing gifts.” dream said. 

“i see that.” you told him. why was he stating the obvious? 

“look, i know this doesn’t make up for basically neglecting yo- no, not basically, totally neglecting you, but i thought this was a good way to start?” dream. 

you sat and stared at him for a while, thinking about what to do. 

who were you kidding, you were soft for him. he could literally break your bones and you’d forgive him, especially when he came with flowers. 

“you know flowers are my weak spot.” you pouted at him, after a while of silence. 

dream sighs in relief. “and that’s exactly why i bought them.” he said before bring you in for a hug. 

you pushed him away, telling him that you still had a fever and you didn’t want it to go to him. 

“if i do get it, then you’ll have to take care of me next time. for now, i’m taking care of you.” he told you, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

“tell me what you want, i’ll do anything for you.” he told you. you smiled at him before hugging him close to you, pulling him into a comfortable position to continue watching the show you had on your tv.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

destiel, 2.4k, mild hurt/comfort, happy ending. for @wormstacheangel who wanted a fic with anemic!Cas <3

"Cas?"

Dean hears a flump from the direction of the bedroom right as he finishes shaving his left cheek. It takes him about five seconds from there to dashing out of the bathroom, sink hastily turned off and half of his neck still covered in white, wearing an expression of worry that doesn't quite go with the foam beard.

Cas seems to hold the same opinion because his face splits in a wide grin the moment Dean enters the room.

A grin almost distracting enough for Dean to not notice that Cas is back on the bed, and suddenly wearing a blanket.

Almost.

"Goddammit, Cas." He sighs, huffing as panic slips away to make room for exasperation. He walks up to the bed, sets about righting the blanket around Cas.

Cas lets him.

"I should've known -"

"- Dean, I forgot -"

"- you were going to ditch your meds the first night after I stop bugging you 'bout them." Dean mutters, ignoring Cas completely as he makes weak attempts at protesting when Dean tucks one corner of his blanket all the way round at the other side, effectively turning him into what he mentally likes to call a Cas-burrito.

He doesn't like to call it anything at the moment though, cause right now, it's just proof of how Cas doesn’t listen.

Friggin' ex-angel of the lord, billions of years old, with libraries worth of stories and history in his head — but taking his meds when they're supposed to be taken, he forgets.

"It wasn't on purpose." Cas insists in a small voice, and Dean shoots an annoyed look at him before stepping back, finally finished with the blanket routine.

If you could call it that.

Well, Dean does call it that.

Because it happened often enough times after Cas's return from the Empty, human as the day Dean was born, to prompt both a title, and a reason to investigate why in the first place.

And not a lot of road to cover from typing in Cas's symptoms in a search engine — headaches, spells of dizziness, fatigue and feeling cold in general (things Cas had dictated to Sam who was typing, while Dean seethed from the next chair at not having been priorly informed of most of those things that warrant being informed about) — to ending up at the conclusion of a few billion (but actually just the first four) results, just minutes after.

Cas had anemia.

(The doctor Dean took him to the very next day, and Sam's completed research on the Novaks' medical history by the time they got back, confirmed it.)

Now, as far as the Winchesters were concerned, that was practically a relief — especially since their next place to look would've been old, tired books of curses, and the meekest of those would've been several times more worrying than the awfullest case of anemia one could possibly get - and Cas's, thankfully, wasn't even that bad.

However, curses are reversible. Or at least, equally as destroyable as their curse-rs are — who, usually, tend to be pretty destroyable when it comes to Sam and Dean.

Mineral deficiencies, on the other hand, are neither.

So supplements it is, as the doctor said and then prescribed — or so it should have been anyways, except for how the love of Dean's life was a giant baby when it came to taking pills.

"Sure it wasn't." Dean rolls his eyes, continuing in his exaggerated 'Cas' voice. "You just forgot."

Cas squint-frowns at Dean with all the ferociousness of a tired, cold and anemic four-weeks-old human, and Dean perches next to him on the edge of their bed with a sigh, the exasperation wearing off too.

(If he hadn't already wrapped them up, this would've been about the time Dean would've taken Cas's hands in his own.)

"Cas," He says, softer now.

Truth be told, Dean can't imagine what it must be like to go from being a - a being, that can heal itself and everything else, to a human who gets shivery and lightheaded cause of things inside of him he can't even control.

It's got to be terrifying, and obviously awful, and Dean's proud of Cas for the way he's been handling all of it — but dammit he's supposed to do the things that make it easier.

Just like he's supposed to let Dean take care of him.

"Dean," Cas replies, looking sideways at him with most of the stubbornness melted from his expression as well. "I'm a little cold but it's okay. I'm fine." He says, like he can still tell exactly what Dean needs to hear.

What he needs Cas to be.

There's a pause and Dean looks down at his hands. He can't help his next question, it's been on his mind for some time.

"What about the first time you were human?"

Cas noticeably withdraws into himself on hearing him, and Dean feels immediately a pang of guilt. It may have gotten easier to read him since he became human, but an accidental display of emotion was still a novelty. (Being difficult to read was apparently more of a Cas trait than an angel feature.)

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't you, uh," Dean pauses. "Shouldn't you also have been anemic then?"

Cas turns away from him, slow enough that Dean knows he's not taken offense, deliberate enough that he's thinking.

He finally answers, facing the wall ten feet away instead of Dean.

"I guess I was."

"But," Dean frowns. "I thought you had no idea you had anemia until last week."

"Dean, I didn't even know there was anything wrong with me until last week." Cas returns, his tone steady. "And back when I was human for the first time, I didn't either, because I'd never known what healthy felt like before, so I had no idea if I was or wasn't it. Of course I knew in an objective sense, say, the ideal temperature of the human body, but the ordinary amount of chilly one should feel on the streets in winter, or how hard or easy falling asleep is supposed to be, I couldn't have told you."

"Oh."

"And I still wouldn't have been able to," Cas turns back to him. "Had you not been the one to point it out."

Dean scoffs.

All he'd done was ask why Cas had been shivering in the middle of the day. That was it. Honestly, how could he not have seen it sooner?

"So you just," Dean lets out, afraid of the answer. "You just thought the cold spells and the, uh," he falters. "The being tired all the time — you thought that was part of being human?"

Cas smiles wryly. "It is for a lot of people."

"But —"

"And it was, Dean, anemia or not, for a lot of the people I lived with back then."

Dean's stomach bottoms out. He knows Cas is right. Six years ago, he'd been living on the streets, living in a bus. Dean remembers him — homeless, cold, sleeping on the floor of a Gas 'N Sip in his only set of clothes, Cas. And he knows he's responsible for it — knows he deserves to be hated for it, and it messes with him everyday that Cas doesn't — but did Cas really not even know what Dean had done to him? What Dean had — and Jesus, he detests himself — made him go through?

"You really thought all of us were going through that," Dean blinks. "And none of us was saying a thing?"

Cas doesn't look away this time and Dean goes on.

"I mean, I know you put humanity on a pedestal it doesn't deserve, and you think we're all capable of things you're capable of, but Cas, I can't believe you associated being human with being cold and tired, and —" Dean scrubs his face with a hand. "Goddammit, Cas! How could I have let you go out there on your own when you — h-how did I not see it, and — and you should never have had to deal with it all alone, I should've —"

"Dean."

It's not until Cas interrupts him that he realizes he's been rambling. Ranting, really, because it's not fair that Cas only got to see the worst of humanity, and it's not fair that Cas was so used to feeling awful that he just figured everyone felt that way all the time. That Cas was all alone at a time Dean should've been there for him, should've been at his side, been there to make sure he was warm, and make sure he ate spinach and seafood and whatever the hell else is rich in iron — hell, Dean should've looked it up sooner — and Dean should've been able to tell that Cas was sick, even if Cas couldn't, because that's his job.

He hasn't felt this way in a while — this particularly familiar fear of failing Cas, and losing Cas, entwined horribly, returning to him; seeping back in through his skin, and settling on his bones like the vast sediments of guilt and loss he's been carrying for most of his life.

Cas is supposed to be okay, and Dean's supposed to make sure he is.

But so far as upto here, turns out Dean's just been failing in more ways than he'd even known.

"Dean," Cas repeats, pulling him out of his reverie with determination in his voice, and a hand on Dean's left arm, his blanket now hanging off of one shoulder.

Dean immediately reaches to make it right but Cas holds him right where he is. Physically and not-drowning-in-his-own-head wise, and he's the only one who can do that.

"You're not listening to me."

Shit, Cas had been speaking this entire time, hadn't he? "Sorry, I was -" Dean looks Cas in the face to apologize, and lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, cause thank god, Cas isn't that pale. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Cas smiles, and it's not lopsided anymore, it's just Cas.

(Dean wonders if he should try to mirror it.)

"I was just saying that now I know that that's not the only part of being human."

"What do you mean?"

"The pain and the suffering, Dean. That's not all." Cas says. "There's also love, and kindness, and worry of the non-lifethreatening kind that dissipates with a smile, and warmth."

Dean stares at him.

"And sure," Cas shrugs. "I knew those things before too — I've read books, I've watched you and Sam — but now I've felt them as humans do, for the very first time, so it's a different kind of knowing."

Cas takes Dean's hand in his, and Dean's the one who squeezes.

"I believe the human expression is 'knowing it in my bones'."

Dean lets out a strained laugh in spite of himself. "Dunno, man. I don't think that's exactly what that means."

"But I do know it in my bones." Cas says simply, and Dean's heart does that thing where it feels too big for his chest. How Cas could go through so much, and still be so full of kindness and good, is one of the mysteries of life Dean's never going to solve — but it doesn't stop him from falling a little bit harder every time it happens.

"You should've gotten to know it the last time too, Cas." Dean tells him, sighing again. "I'm just — I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Well, you are now." Cas tilts his head. "And I prefer the things I'm learning this time over the last time anyway, and I believe it's you who's always taught me that the present is what matters the most. I'm just glad you're here this time."

"And I'm not going anywhere." Dean squeezes their hands tighter, and Cas's smile grows. God, he deserves the world and he keeps settling for Dean, doesn't he — and Dean hates it, and loves it, and couldn't live without it. He puts his other hand on Cas's face, gloving his cheek. Cas leans closer.

"I love you."

Dean's throat constricts. "You're too good to me."

"I think that's the point."

Dean can't help but smile, and he really can't help the tears.

"I'm okay." Cas says, once more. "Are you?"

There's only one answer, and nothing to fight this time.

Dean closes the gap.

"I love you too."

It's not their first kiss, nor is it the first time they've ever said it — but it feels more significant than anything's felt before. It's more them, too — not sickly-sweet or angry and fighting, just them, coming around to the end of a hard talk, falling into each other's arms with an ease they reserve for each other only, and sinking into each other, slow and perfectly synced, like they're made for it.

When they pull back, a moment later, Dean leans his forehead against Cas's and licks his lips. Breathes.

"There's so much more to being human," he hears himself saying. "Than you'd ever find out just living here in the bunker with us."

"Dean," it's Cas's turn to sigh. "I've already found everything I need."

Dean's cheeks heat up. "I thought it was never too late to learn."

"It isn't." Cas leans back, hands falling back to his sides from where they were wrapped around Dean's neck. "But sometimes, practising old things is more important."

Dean immediately dissolves into laughter. "Yeah, no, great going. Call me old before you go to town practising on me."

Cas ignores him save a twinkle in his eyes. "And some things, I'd like us to learn together."

Dean grins.

"And some things," Cas concludes, with a wide smile. "Aren't taught anywhere else in the world."

"Yeah?"

Cas shrugs.

"Why so?"

"Well, rumor has it the teacher's afraid of flying."

Dean freezes for a moment, silent, and then snorts — because yeah, that's funny, Ha Ha, but okay, if Cas is fit enough to make jokes, then he's fit enough to take his meds now, and Dean tells him that gleefully, resulting in Cas's grin immediately turning upside down as he tries to scoot away from Dean, except Dean's kinda expecting it so he's prepared to launch himself on the bed if he has to — and he does have to, cause Dean might love him for his heart, and his courage, and his kindness, but remember how Cas is just a baby in a trenchcoat?

Yeah.

(And that is just a regular morning in the Winchester household.)

[silkgonerough]

Astro Observation/Rants #3 (includes moral support for ppl with harsh aspects between their big 3)

🍰UNDERRATED ASPECT COMBO: Mercury sextile venus + mars when I tell you the amount of crazy situations I’ve talked my way out of and the amount of free things I’ve talked my way into is simply ridiculous.. The mixture of both I think gives someone a rlly nice and sweet way of talking but with a certain tact and persuasion with how their saying it if that makes sense? Which equals a real charmer in words but also someone very skilled in how to get what they want through what their saying. If you have this as well start using it to your advantage trust me it works!!!

☹️Does anyone else who has Pluto or Saturn on or aspecting the ascendant in a harsh aspect have an intense self awareness that kind of keeps them from doing certain things bc it gets to much be too much or you get too paranoid over what others will think of you?

😪Being a Sagittarius but with Saturn as my dominant/elevated planet is really not what I signed up for... I thought I was getting my fun carefree casual storyline but Saturn said it’s the struggle for me. RIP to young me who only looked at cookbook astrology and rlly thought I was doing something...

🙃Ppl who have their sun or ascendant squaring your own ascendant usually have habits or just certain things they do that tend to annoy you or make you judgemental in how they present themselves to the world and others around them. My virgo rising squares my moms sagittarius sun and I can’t take her anywhere 😕

🥵Venus square mars is so hot yet such a disaster in synastry😭 like maybe it’s because I attract relationships that tend to be as messy as something out of a Netflix original but I’m always so attracted to guys who’s venus’ square my mars... and then they open their mouths😪

📚If you know someone with mercury in an aspect to saturn compliment their intellect, writting skills or just knowledge in general!! Ppl with this aspect tend to feel insecure with being considered ��smart” even if they really are! Most ppl I’ve met are able to articulate their thoughts rlly well and are like walking dictionaries almost? They way they talk when explaining definitions or concepts is also lowkey hot🥵maybe that’s just my Virgo rising talking tho...

💖Sun in any aspect to venus but especially the conjunct/trine as an aspect between two people is the official hype man aspect!! The venus person hypes the hell out of the sun person and vice versa!! Probs the loyal fan who’s always in your comment section😘I love this aspect sm tho you just love the entire being of the other person! one of my fave celebrities has her venus conjunct my sun and I am deeply in love with her🤪

😩WHEN WILL THE UNIVERSE GIVE ME ANYTHING OTHER THEN A DAMN PISCES ARIES OR LIBRA MAN ITS GETTING OLD give me my Scorpio or Capricorn man😭🙏 (except dont bc all of hell will break loose and it’ll be me invigoratingly opening the gates)

🌗If you have your sun in a harsh aspect to your moon (square or opposite) your childhood was probably not the most fun in the home life and you probably understood the harsh reality of marriage or just unhealthy relationships in general from the parents :/ the whole sun/moon inner conflict was also probs pretty prevalent and caused social issues with peers at school.. honestly such a sad aspect to have as a child bc everything’s so hard and you don’t understand why bc you don’t rlly understand yourself yet :( but once you grow into it and figure out how to balance your emotions/moon to your overall personality/sun one can become the strength where the other is weak and it creates a sort of wondrous enigma of a person and ppl can become rlly entranced in your personality! It’s called layers bitch😜

🤫Scorpio/Pluto in the 3rd house (I have both🤗) could be someone who has a lot of secretive hobbies or interests that they don’t share with a lot of ppl but may have a secret social media accounts for them👀 not the type to tell ppl if they like someone but the ppl who are close to them will catch on or honestly figure out just by asking them straight up bc once confronted we get all embarrassed and you can see it on our faces super easily! We love our mysteries, plot twist or literally anything that requires digging deeper or making theories when reading or watching something. No surface level shit here🙅‍♀️

💸Mars in 2nd house may have a shopping addiction or may be bad at saving money. They usually binge shop and are the types that went to a grocery store for more untensils and came back with a waffle maker and a bunch of baking supplies😅 stingy if you eat their food without permission... the type to freak out if they left their fave shirt at their friends house after a sleepover lol, probs has a thing for food and sex together or sex in a really luxurious place with candles and rose petals.. it’s go big or I’m going tf home with them. Have furniture in ur home their not fucking in a god damn roller rink🤣

🌟People with Mercury in Aquarius/aspecting Uranus seem to really like talking about scientific theories or futuristic concepts!! All the ones I’ve known have had really grand ideas and seem to like anything related to the mystical but also seemingly holds a lot of innovative undertones! One of my friends who has Mercury in Aquarius aspecting Neptune/Uranus has a thing for the Disney short films which honestly is like a mix of neptune and uranus in its art forms! I’ve always thought it was cute how eager she is to show me them☺️

🌊From what I’ve observed an aspect that can make someone kind of bad at confrontation or like vocalizing their feelings until it’s too late and their bursting like a freaking geyser is Pisces mars. It doesn’t rlly take a lot to have them feeling some sort of way either with or without a valid reason (this is just an observation from the ones I’ve seen I don’t want to generalize!!) but the way they get angry is like a baby’s tempter tantrum and because I’m a Sagittarius I can always see thru the bullshit and I’m like is anyone else seeing this? I think overall besides Scorpio having a water mars signs is exceptionally hard so I cut them some slack but at what cost😫

🤤Mars conjunct Jupiter people are yummy. The men and women both are so hot and the men are always exuding big dick energy and usually thats what their giving👀

🌎All my big 3 create harsh aspects to one another (sun square moon, moon opposite ascendant, ascendant square sun) I honestly don’t know how I made it this far without literally exploding from tension but to anyone with these I guess my advice would be to refrain from taking things too personally bc it’s usually never that serious we’re just already a bit insecure in ourselves and how we present ourselves to the world! Your perception of how others view you vs how they actually do are usually very different in a good way but we tend to self sabotage ourselves into acting the way we think others want us to! I think having so many conflictive yet different sides of yourself creates a very influential character. It’s kind of like living in many completely different places throughout your life. The change is always hard and you don’t always feel secure but your experience and perception on things are really unique and you can offer other ppl a whole new perspective on who they are bc you yourself are always looking through the world through conflicting yet contrasting lenses.