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afraidparade · 1 year

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"A Kinder Reality"

Word count: 3,088 Genre: G/T, Hurt/comfort, Angst Content warnings: Detailed depictions of panic attacks/intrusive thoughts, mentions & allusions to gore, death, and suicide, fearplay, possessive behavior

(PLEASE read the CWs as this one is a bit darker than some of my other stuff! sorry if it gets a bit heavy lolol. i tried to base this off of my own personal experiences, as i often have memory problems as a result of vivid dreams and intrusive thoughts that give me a lot of anxiety. there's also not a ton of hurt/comfort where the giant is the one hurting so i hope this fills that emptiness 👍)

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Luka’s eyes snapped open, the sudden light he had yet to adjust to making it impossible to differentiate up from down. His fingertips clawed into the sheets around him, as if grasping desperately for purchase on an incomplete thought he held in his hands only a moment prior. What was this? Where had he been until now? It was difficult to recall the details, but the ache of breathlessness in his chest and the icy sweat that saturated his nightclothes was evidence that the experience had been far from pleasant.

He remembered feeling alone, yet surrounded. Helpless, but he wasn’t quite certain of what it was that threatened him. There was a room with chairs and people and…something else. Something that he was desperately terrified of. And it wasn’t that those faceless figures around him refused to respond to his cries and offer him aid, because he didn’t cry at all. He didn’t make a sound. It was a dreadful sensation, sitting in that room and feigning calm, surrounded by those human-shaped husks. There was an overbearing presence behind him: the terrifying thing. Some sort of shadowy monster that sulked in a corner of the ceiling yet simultaneously managed to breathe down his neck. Luka could just feel its predatory anticipation, waiting for him to turn around, or speak, or blink, or any action it deemed unacceptable. He was sure it was there, yet no one else paid it any mind. Could they see it? Could they feel it? Did they even care that it was there? Did they even care that he was there? If the thing lunged down and ripped him apart right in front of their hollow eyes, would anyone even flinch? Perhaps they would feel grateful to the monster for ridding them of such a burden. Perhaps they would all be happier if he weren’t—

Luka pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and swallowed. Dry. Water, he should drink water. Shapes began to form in the fuzzy white void of his vision, and the man soon recognized the wall of his bedroom. Which meant all those vague and terrible memories had just been made-up. A dream. A rasp of air blew through his chapped lips, as if he was attempting to laugh out of spite. What a cruel joke. He already got a pitiful amount of sleep as it was, and now he couldn’t even be afforded the luxury of feeling rested when he woke up? Well, such was life, he supposed. At least now he wasn’t alone.

At least now…he wasn’t…

Luka froze, and his head throbbed. The space on the mattress beside him was unoccupied. He managed to twist his neck to survey the other side of the room, enduring another sharp surge of pain in his skull. Empty. His lips parted, but he stayed silent.

Wasn’t there supposed to be someone else there?

A third, more definitive pulse in his head caused Luka’s eyes to wrench shut. His hands shot upwards to nurse the pain away, but when that didn’t work, his fingers became more frantic, each scratching at his hairline as if they had a mind of their own. There was some sort of vile growth blocking his airway. He didn’t know where it came from. It felt like the same sort of inky malevolence that the carnivorous presence from before was composed of.

Was this…real? Had he actually woken up?

He coughed, wheezing around the lump in his throat, panic setting in when he realized he couldn’t breathe. His diaphragm spasmed, and nausea followed soon after. His mouth was open, but if Luka was crying or screaming, he couldn’t tell. His sense of hearing had been reduced to a flat, monotone buzz.

How could he be certain that this wasn’t the dream? That every memory of having someone beside him, someone that actually cared about him, weren’t just artificial fragments of a bright, fuzzy dreamscape his brain made to protect itself? How was he supposed to know which memories to trust?

A dark ring began to close in around the corners of his vision, blotting out his surroundings like the final scene of an old film. Maybe it was from the lack of oxygen. Maybe it was just a trauma response. But Luka couldn’t bear this feeling, not being able to tell whether he was tumbling or stationary, awake or asleep, alive or dead. If he was alone again.

Again.

Again, again, again, it always happened, he always ended up like this. As if he was always destined to be an afterthought to everyone around him. As if it really wouldn’t matter if a monster swallowed him whole. And bitterly, with the last scrap of his consciousness that could form coherent thoughts, he wondered which reality was kinder: one where he’d tasted love and fulfillment only to discover it was never his to keep, or one where he’d never experienced such bitter joys, and never knew the severity of losing them.

Maybe he could wake up in the room with the people and the monster. Maybe then, even if it was for a second, someone would spare him a compassionate glance while that shadowy beast tore into his ribcage and—

“…ka?”

There was something warm on Luka’s cheek. Tears? No. Though it was only now that he noticed their presence, those felt chilly and wet. It was a small pressure, but it radiated familiarity. A shaky, sudden inhale — his consciousness felt so faint, he barely registered it as his own — and a question were the first sounds to break through the fuzzy, intangible blockade around his ears.

“What happened?”

It took several deep, uneven breaths and bewildered blinks before Luka could manage to see just past his nose. A humanoid shape finally came into focus, but unlike the figures in the other room, this one had a face. And, upon closer inspection, wasn’t human at all. Deep, glossy pools of black with white pinprick pupils stared wide at him with concern, and from behind a quivering frown, he could make out tiny, pointed teeth. Reddish horns, an absolute rat’s nest of black hair, and an ill-fitting shirt stitched together by his own clumsy hands, all wrapped up in a three-inch package. The details were too intimate to be mistaken for a dream.

It was Faust. His wonderful, impossible, real Faust.

Luka couldn’t muster the coherence to form words. Aside from the fogginess he felt after finally, truly waking up, he was still parched, and his throat felt bruised from his battle for breath. A hand retracted from his face, the palm damp from the tears it had inadvertently smeared around, and slowly reached towards the confused demon. Faust reached out for it without a moment’s hesitation, causing Luka’s fingers to twitch in surprise. He was real. It was miraculous. He was real.

But that looming dread from before still gripped at his chest unyieldingly. What if one day Luka woke up and he really was gone? How would he be able to bear being thrown from one cruel reality to the next without the reprieve of someone else to comfort him? No, not just anyone else, but Faust. There was no one else. It had to be Faust.

What would he do if he lost Faust?

Luka didn’t know what he was doing. His body moved almost robotically, stuttering every now and then as his brain tried to process how to proceed, all while his unblinking gaze lost focus and bore forward into the same nothingness. His fingers curled around Faust’s body rigidly, and while the demon didn’t protest, he began to shift uncomfortably. The human’s hand pulled back towards his body, his grip unconsciously tightening as it moved, only stopping when his companion was held flush against his chest and there was no space left for his hand to retreat to.

“Luka, this is— it’s kind of hard to breathe.”

Luka could hear him, so why couldn’t he stop? He didn’t want to hurt Faust. He would never do something like that. But he was so small. Even if daily life with a tiny imp had become routine, it didn’t change the fact that he was so very vulnerable. Ultimately powerless in the grand scheme of things. Beautifully unique, terrifyingly unique. There was no one else in the entire world like Faust. The big, dangerous, lonely world. Yes, it was so easy to keep him in place. It hardly took any effort at all. This was simply a reassurance that he had the means to keep Faust safe. To keep him close. To make him stay.

“Y-your heartbeat is crazy fast right now. Seriously, are you okay? I need you to respond to me, Luka!”

Luka’s chin lowered to brush against the hand trapping Faust in place, and without realizing it, his entire body had begun to curl around that point as well. It felt as though Faust was the very core of his entire person. This was beyond normal love, wasn’t it? This was obsession. Sick dependency. It disgusted him so, and yet his body refused to do anything but curl tighter. Like a boa constrictor wrapping around its next meal. Would he end up squeezing Faust until he stopped moving, too? It would be easy, Luka thought. Not that he wanted to. But it chilled him to know that he could.

“Don’t make me do this, Luka. I really don’t want to do this.”

Ah, this was what it felt like when they first met. The knowledge that he held this impossibly small being’s life in the literal palm of his hand, the understanding that he could take advantage of that, and the searing hatred Luka felt for himself when he did. It was horrible, but it was intoxicating, and he didn’t want it back, but a wretched part of him missed it. When exactly did he manage to overcome this feeling, Luka pondered? Somewhere along the way of falling for Faust? Realizing he’d need to change if he ever wanted Faust to reciprocate? Well, what did it truly matter if Faust reciprocated? Faust didn’t have to love him. He just needed to be here. He just needed to stay. Luka needed him to stay.

“…So be it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

God, he was rotten. And delusional, too, to think he had actually changed. People don’t change. At least not people like Luka. Destined to be alone, again and again and again and again. He hated being alone. He hated himself. He hated this feeling. He hated that goddamn room from that goddamn dream. What was even the point? Why did he bother trying to fix something shattered beyond repair? What was stopping him from—

“Ca-li-for-nia girls, we’re unforgettable! Daisy dukes, bikinis on top!”

…

What?

“Sun-kissed skin so hot, we’ll melt your popsicle — wa-oohhh-ah-oohhh-oh, wa-oohhh-ah-oohhh-oh…”

Faust’s muffled voice faded after the last vocalization, possibly waiting to see if there was a response. Or possibly due to being out of breath. After that, total stillness descended on the scene. Almost as if someone had merely pushed the power button on a remote and turned off all the static in Luka’s brain. It took a moment for him to process what in the hell had just happened, but after rewiring itself, his brain recalled a certain fact he knew he could always rely on:

Faust was a terrible singer.

Once his lungs finally remembered how to inhale, his body relaxed from its tensed and coiled state, releasing the small demon from his desperate grasp. As his vision slowly came into focus again, Luka inspected Faust’s state worriedly, suddenly horrified that he may have actually inflicted harm on his roommate. He was flushed red from a combination of the larger man’s overwhelming body heat and the intense pressure that likely inhibited his breathing, but other than a few gasps and coughs, he seemed surprisingly unbothered. Which was relieving first and foremost, but upsetting in its own right. He deserved to be upset. He deserved to resent Luka. The man swallowed as he attempted to regain his voice.

“...I hate that song,” he rasped plainly. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah. I know,” Faust replied, still panting as he glanced upward, “I was sorta hoping that the hate and the shock would overpower…whatever it was you were feeling.”

Luka’s mouth hung agape. Had Faust really hinged both the wellbeing of himself and Luka on…an annoying pop song? And that actually worked? He couldn’t tell if the demon was an idiot or a genius. It was so ridiculous on so many layers that he simply couldn’t think about anything else. Those overbearing thoughts from mere moments prior vanished in a puff of smoke, just like that. Eventually he closed his mouth and allowed a small, warm grin to replace the anguish from before. He never smiled like this before meeting Faust. Funny, Luka thought, how very different his inner demons looked from the miniscule demon that stood before him.

“It did. Thank you.”

“God, you sound like shit,” the imp grumbled. Luka took the not-so-subtle hint and slowly sat himself upright, fumbling for the bottle of water that he kept on his bedside table. “What even happened? I had only just left to find myself something to snack on, but I turned back when I heard you making weird noises. Next thing I know, you’re suffocating me.”

Luka hesitated as he brought the bottle to his lips. An intense feeling of shame weighed down on his body as he recalled his actions, as well as the thoughts that accompanied them. It was probably better that Faust didn’t know every last detail of what brought his panic attack on…specifically, the thoughts concerning him. Sure, they had roots in the anxieties that Luka harbored in the back of his mind, but in that feverish state they had been amplified a hundred fold. They weren’t his true feelings. Or so he hoped, anyways

“I just…had a nightmare,” he answered simply, taking a swig from the container. Faust’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced that there was no other trigger for such an extreme episode, but he held his tongue. After all, he was in no place to doubt the impact of nightmares. Luka, not wanting to dwell in the uncomfortable silence any longer, continued, “I’m so sorry for putting you through that. It must’ve been scary. Are you hurt?”

The smaller shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I’ve been through a lot worse.”

Luka wiped at a trail of water that trickled out of the corner of his mouth before capping the bottle. That was right — they had both trudged through hell just to make it to that very morning together, hadn’t they? Faust’s trophy was a back full of scars. Luka’s was a drawer full of pill bottles. It was difficult to liken his own traumatic experiences to Faust’s – especially when the other’s past was still largely a mystery to him – but there was comfort in knowing they could relate to each other on a basic level. That they…weren’t alone. Maybe all the trouble up until then was worth it just to share each other’s company. Of course, it was possible Faust didn’t feel the same way. But he didn’t need to feel the same way. It was enough that he was there.

Luka sighed and turned to Faust again. Given his state from a few minutes ago, it was remarkable how calm he felt now. Maybe that, too, was thanks to his companion’s presence.

“Did you ever get your snack?” he asked softly.

“No,” Faust huffed with a sharp thrash of his tail. After a pause, the small imp folded his arms and turned his pouting face away, adding with a grumble, “I can’t exactly get to the kitchen in just a few steps like you can.”

Cute, Luka cooed inwardly. It was a thought that he would verbalize on any other day just to watch the resulting adorable tantrum, but for now he figured he’d put Faust through enough.

“Well then, would you allow me to make a nice breakfast as an apology for earlier? I think there’s enough pancake mix left for one more serving.”

The other’s scowl dissipated instantly, clearly more interested in food than maintaining appearances. “Hell yes! Apology accepted! Put some whipped cream on top and it’s apology double accepted!”

Luka laughed warmly and, after brushing away the last of the moisture that clung to his cheeks, gently extended a hand for Faust to climb onto willingly. Despite him being the one to prompt the action, though, he faltered when his smaller counterpart did just that. Even though he’d been forgiven, this simple act of trust didn’t feel earned. It was only a moment ago that he’d hurt Faust, after all. What right did he have to hold him now?

Seemingly picking up on Luka’s uncertainty (or just becoming impatient after being promised pancakes), Faust craned his neck to shoot an inquisitive glare upwards. “What?” he demanded.

“Aren’t you… I don’t know, a bit too trusting of me right now?” the brunette asked, unable to meet the other’s eyes. “Are you not even the least bit afraid that it might happen again?”

Faust scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it’ll happen again, idiot.”

Well, Luka hadn’t been sure as to what sort of answer he expected, but it certainly was not that.

“It might not be today or tomorrow, but sure, yeah, it’ll come back. Stuff like that doesn’t disappear overnight. But what kind of demon would I be if I was afraid of one measly human?” he pointed out, flashing a toothy smirk. “I trust you, Luka. And besides, I’ll always be around to knock some sense into you.”

Had Luka not spent all his tears earlier, he was certain there would be some welling in his eyes right then. He gave an earnest smile, a quiet chuckle, and asked, “So singing cringey pop music is your definition of knocking sense into someone?”

“It’s not cringey. You’re just a hardass.”

How fortunate Luka felt now to have woken up. Because truly, how could there be any reality kinder than this one he shared with Faust?

As they walked, Luka hummed a few notes between the pauses of their aimless chattering, before eventually groaning and cursing under his breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “You got that stupid song stuck in my head.”

“Heh heh! You’re welcome.”

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sadfruittheatre · 6 days

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Loss and Lots of Retcons: The Current State of Affairs and Moving Forward

So, now that things have begun to calm down, I want to talk a little bit more about various retcons and what's going to change, both in terms of this blog and the timeline. This is also a to-do list for me, because I have hella ADHD and get very overwhelmed without some kind of game plan.

So, to get the big thing out of the way, several characters are no longer going to exist and will have never existed. You're going to see the things on this list and go "woah, wait a minute! aren't all these guys like, super important to a bunch of things!?" and the answer is yes, but sometimes things happen in real life that affect the plot and that is just a potential consequence of working in collaboration with other people.

So, the casualties are:

Mara

Flann

Veroa

Kuroza (Fish)

Anzu

Carma and Kone

It's a lot of characters unfortunately, but we still have plenty left.

Cayenne

Bragi

Aneas

Tomor

Eugene

Mirin

Coulie

Dulze

Deeji

Letch

Mille

Mento

The character pages will be updated accordingly.

There will also be some new characters introduced in conjunction to the plot things that have been happening in the background, but I will not be elaborating on all that yet until I iron out this other stuff. But know that I am definitely looking forward to introducing you to these guys and their lovely creators!

But Kateh, I hear you ask, how are you going to have concurrent plot things going on when you have to retcon like, everything??? Well, you see, I'm basically doing my best to keep the overall trajectories of my OCs as close to the same as possible in broad strokes, even if there are different characters involved or some things just didn't happen anymore. Some characters are honestly completely unaffected by this (like Aneas, who wins by staying in his lane and loving his wife). Other characters, namely Bragi, and to a lesser degree, Tomor, need a lot of work done to fix the damage.

As for the art and writing I've uploaded, much of it is probably going to be taken down, because I don't feel comfortable having art up of characters I no longer have the rights to use for a continuity that no longer exists. Some things can be edited in small ways, and if I can salvage it, I will; plenty of other things will stay up, though the context for them is largely going to have to be rewritten to fit the new continuity. I'm definitely bummed that so much of this entire project has to be gutted, but I'm hoping to be able to slowly rebuild things going forward. Honestly not sure if it would be easier to delete and start over, but I'll try to fix things as they are before I do all that.

I do actually have some establishing comics in the works to get us all adjusted to the new vibes, so we can at least look forward to that!

Now, let's talk plot and characters. We've talked a lot about what's lost, but here's what remains.

Now, while there are still a lot of minor details to work out, the broad strokes are as follows:

Bragi's still being sent to Conton City to atone for his stinky boy crimes. However, the big difference now is that for better immersion in the mortal culture, he's staying with a host family, the already overcrowded teacakes house with Dulze and Yamcha. Deeji is his new best friend. #DeejiSupremacy

He's still going to slowly get his shit together until he's forced to confront Aneas and they reconcile. Details are still hella fuzzy as to how that goes down but Aneas and Coulie (and Eugene) remain largely unchanged. Still happily married. #FlowerBudsSupremacy

A lot of the stuff with Mento probably still happened, though the context of Mirin's existence and what led up to Mento's death is gonna have to change wildly to accommodate it. Bragi's existential crisis will definitely have to be adjusted.

The Anzu shit? Didn't happen. Bragi likely remains unstabbed, unless we find another context to stab him in. With that in mind, he's probably going to revert back to his pre-vest design because like, the whole reason for that is because he got stabbed. At least his godtube channel remains alive and shitty. Coulie can still systematically dislike all of his videos.

At the most recent point in the timeline, Bragi's at least a little more willing to open up to people he trusts because Kuroza/Fish isn't there anymore to fuck it up for him by being weird about his trauma. He's still got some trust and vulnerability issues tho.

Tomor needs an overhaul at least in terms of his own trajectory. Part of this is due to the plot things I'm sitting on, part of it is because he lost his comedic foil in the form of Fish. He will definitely continue to cause problems on purpose tho, probably with New!Mento.

The Mento with Mirin goop in her brain is still very much a thing btw. She's so silly and I love her. #MentoSupremacy

Some of this stuff is still subject to change, and whatever does change likely won't be as detailed as it used to be, but we're doing what we can. It's a hot mess right now and it's gonna take a lot of time to fix it, so uh, thanks for bearing with me 👍

#mod post #meta #very bummed to have to make this post and rebuild everything but I'm taking my time #this old continuity wasn't built in a day and this one won't be either

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captains0lo · 2 months

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DOCTOR WHO LOVE AND MONSTERS: An endless rant about fan representation

I recently embarked on an exhaustive New Who rewatch with my partner. We had both seen the entire show up to Capaldi’s seasons (2014-2017), but had not watched everything, together. So we decided to remedy that situation upon finishing our last TV show we watched together, and get into rewatching all of New Who.

Such a rewatch entails, of course, relishing in the sheer magnificence of experiencing episodes like “Dalek” (Season 1, Episode 6) or “The Satan Pit” (Season 2, Episode 9), but also some less glorious moments of television like the ever-farting Slitheen of “Aliens of London” (Season 1, Episode 4), or the infamous and widely hated “Love & Monsters” (Season 2, Episode 10). (You can like the Slitheen, but I find the never-ending fart jokes goddam grating after a while– its five year old humour)

I used to be a “Love & Monsters” hater myself (like most people – it’s a WEIRD episode). However, on this specific rewatch of the show I got something completely different from that particular last episode of the list. A quick search on IMBD reviews and some Reddit forums makes it quite obvious that, although its widely considered a meh-to-terrible episode, a lot of people have latched onto it as an original, quite unique and layered episode.

I so happen to be knee-deep in research for my Master’s Thesis, looking into a bunch of Henry Jenkins’ stuff and fandom, audiences and mass/popular culture and, with a reading of Convergence Culture (Jenkins, 2006) super fresh in my mind, “Love & Monsters” absolutely blew my mind this time around. So gather round, grab a snack and enjoy my unhinged ramblings at the intersection of my fandom and academic worlds. Cause if you have a thought and don’t immediately share it on the Internet, did you have the thought at all amirite? (I really should not be writing this right now I should be working on my thesis but who cares)

Because I’m probably already massively testing your attention span, here is my main point for the rest of this post/crap essay: “Love & Monsters” tells the story of fans coming together and finding community in fandom, only for that sense of community and belonging to be destroyed and commodified as the corporate powers that be attempt to re-absorb and control fan modes of production and communities. (phew, say that 3 times fast). Now why I think my point is somewhat original: honestly even for people who catch the not-so-subtle LINDA as geeky social inept fans subtext, I’ve almost only seen negative takes (its mocking fans, showing them in a bad light etc…). While its definitely not all flattering, I think there is a sweetness and positivity to this representation of a group of fans, so I wanna make my case for it I guess.

Love & Monsters: a brief summary

Quick recap for anyone who has not watched the show or finds the detail of this episode a bit fuzzy.

The episode begins with Elton Pope, a man who becomes fascinated with the Doctor after an encounter with a mysterious blue box in his childhood.

Elton joins a group of people who also have encounters with the Doctor, forming the "Linda" group.

The group meets Ursula Blake, a woman who joins them after witnessing a Slitheen attack.

The group's meetings become more about their personal lives than the Doctor.

Elton falls in love with Ursula, and the group's dynamics change.

A man named Victor Kennedy joins Linda and takes control, pushing out some members and focusing on finding the Doctor.

It's revealed that Victor Kennedy is actually an alien called the Abzorbaloff, who absorbs people into his body.

The Doctor arrives too late to save most of Linda, but Elton manages to escape.

Ursula is absorbed by the Abzorbaloff, but her face remains intact in his body, allowing her consciousness to survive.

The Doctor traps the Abzorbaloff, saving Elton and the remaining members of Linda.

Elton continues his life with Ursula's face in a slab of concrete, grateful for the time they had together.

(summary provided by ChatGPT because I want to get to the good stuff, sue me, this is exactly the kind of stuff AI is good for)

I’ll also quickly add the following important contextual tid-bits about the episode. First and foremost, it was written that way (barely featuring the Doctor and Rose Tyler, focusing on people who’s lives have been indirectly touched by the Doctor and who are looking for him and generally Doing a Fandom about him) because the production schedule required simultaneous filming of a pair of episodes (because otherwise they would run out of time in the production schedule). They filmed the episode at the same time as “The Satan Pit” with a second crew, and the little screen time of The Doctor and Rose allowed them to film both episodes at the same time (and obviously feature a lot more heavily in “The Satan Pit”).

The other important thing about this episode (that I will admit actually harms my argument a little but I will tell you why I don’t care about that later) is that the main monster – the “Abzorbaloff” was designed by a kid in the context of a Doctor Who monster contest. Basically, the winner got their monster featured in a Doctor Who episode. So, RTD didn’t really come up with the Abzorbaloff himself, but honestly I think the interpretation I’m about to make still holds (death of the author and all that stuff, I can interpret this episode how I want and so can you my friend)

Anyways, now that we’ve got all that out of the way lets get into the good stuff.

LINDA: Fandom as community

The members of LINDA – London Investigation N’ Detective Agency – basically come together as a group initially because they all have an interest in “The Doctor”, as an elusive figure, permanently out of reach and that they don’t fully understand, but that has touched their lives quite significantly anyway. The original members of LINDA are Elton (POV character for the episode), Ursula, Mr. Skinner, Bliss and Bridget.

Other people who have discussed this episode in the past have pointed out that LINDA and its members resemble a parody of Whovians (see “thecoolkat”’s review in the links below, but also numerous ScreenRant or other such internet media articles), but I’d argue they serve quite well as a representation of a stereotypical image of fans and fandom more generally. Obviously, they are Whovians because the object of their fandom is LITERALLY The Doctor himself inside the story, but its more than that in my opinion. Let’s not forget when this episode aired (2006), fandom had yet to go fully mainstream – although the situation had markedly improved since the 90s when fans were still almost only the object of ridicule for anyone who was not themselves a fan. I’d argue that the members of LINDA quite accurately represent a few different stereotypes about fans common in the late 90s to early 2000s, but also many of fandom’s “redeeming” qualities that were starting to be acknowledged as well as internet fandom became more popular and visible.

Our in-text fans do have some of the more socially-awkward trappings often associated with fandom by outsiders: they’re shy, unfashionable, perhaps slightly socially inept – possibly even infantilized or desexualized. (for more on fan stereotypes at the beginning of the 90s, see chapter 1 of Jenkins 1992). Its fairly obvious that, as others have pointed out, the members of LINDA are a parody, a stand-in for loser fans who have surrendered any other sense of identity to the object of their fandom. They are the hardcore Trekkies who get married in pointy Vulcan ears. Bliss, Bridget, and Ursula are single women leaning on the older side – although Ursula is the younger of the three, she’s also the most “visibly” nerdy, which “disadvantages” her romantically in other ways. Mr. Skinner is also presumably single, maybe even lonely – divorced, perpetual bachelor or a widower, I guess we’ll never know. Elton, finally, seems fairly normal by comparison, but its his obsession with the Doctor and some mysterious childhood trauma that does give him that slight “I can tell that guy is not fully right in the head” vibe.

Speaking of traumas though, we also find out fairly early on in meeting of all the LINDA members that Bridget’s daughter is a drug addict, and disappeared from her mother’s life, which obviously leads her to worry to no end and carry some pretty deep grief. (sidenote because that is not my main point here and this is already going to easily cross into 2000+ words: theres also some pretty significant amount of stuff written about fandom as a way to deal with trauma, that people retreat into fantasy – often as a byproduct of what we would call fandom – to deal with traumatic life events) (Hinerman, 1992, full source below)

So, our gang of nerds with various levels of social aptitude and trauma find each other, this group and sense of community that they so obviously share in the part of the episode showing LINDA before Victor Kennedy’s takeover. Although pretty much all of them are introduced with some of the “negative” trappings of fandom, LINDA is absolutely represented in the episode as a positive force and community in their lives. They begin by bonding over their “fandom”, theorizing about the Doctor as a metaphor, a role, a figure (like Mr. Skinner brings up in a whiteboard presentation), but quickly their interactions evolve into something more. They sing, dance and share deep personal concerns and difficulties with each other (it’s at one of those sessions that we find out about Bridget’s daughter, for example, and we see the group be quite supportive of her in her pain). The point is, the people of LINDA could only have found each other through fandom, but their collective involvement in that fandom brought them something more; genuine connection and friendship. LINDA pre-Kennedy takeover is something that is good for these geeky, lonely, maybe a bit socially inept people, and would have continued being good for them if it wasn’t for…

Victor Kennedy/the Abzorbaloff as the embodiment of corporate media control

So, the members of LINDA have bonded over their shared passion for The Doctor, they’ve exchanged theories and eventually broadened their social activities to karaoke and emotional support-and even some romantic stirrings for the Mr. Skinner/Bridget and Elon/Ursula. In doing so, they have diverted some (although I don’t think all) of their meeting times to activities other than searching for and theorizing about The Doctor. Their fandom has ceased to be the sole reason for their weekly meetings, essentially. They’ve now made the group their own thing.

Who walks in next? Victor Kenndy aka the Abzorbaloff, a tall, mustachioed, robber-baron coded and snob-ish figure, intent on re-focusing the members of LINDA onto the search for the Doctor, under his leadership and to his own ends.

I think Kennedy’s physicality even before his reveal as the Abzorbaloff is super significant; the robber baron appearance – complete with fur coat, cane and hat- screams “19th century industrial factory owner,” and I do believe that’s the whole point. He represents the modes of cultural production that, in 2006, still didn’t know what the heck to do with fans who take mass culture and make it their own through folk processes. Active audiences that make demands of producers, feel a sense of ownership of shows and characters, organize creative communities and Active audiences that make demands of producers, feel a sense of ownership of shows and characters, organize creative communities and create fanfiction or fanart that basically represents copyright violations NEEDED to be harnessed and controlled by producers (or at least that’s how a lot of producers, writers and networks felt in the early 2000s). So the old-timey 19th century industrialist look given to Kennedy’s human form is a metaphor for that old media magnate mentality, that will only put up with fans that “work” for them and respect their “rules.” And, as we see in the episode, by doing so, he robs LINDA of basically all their fun and connection; they get sat down at individual desks, with piles of work to sift through. Fandom has stopped being fun as it gets controlled. They’re having such a terrible time in fact that the Abzorbaloff can absorb like 2 of them (Bliss and Bridget) before any of the other members of LINDA suspect anything is wrong; they just assume they stopped coming because the group absolutely sucks now.

So now on the absorption part; its not enough for the Abzorbaloff to control everything the fans do, he needs to absorb and incorporate them into him to have full control; LINDA must become part of him to be acceptable. Ok I’ll admit this is pretty far-fetched, but honestly not that much. In Convergence Culture (2006) Henry Jenkins talks a lot about fan theories, spoilers and fan films. The latter, specifically the Star Wars fan films made in the 90s and 2000s, have a super interesting history that I think makes a compelling argument for the move of media corporations from attempts to control fans to trying to ABSORB their work into the acceptable corporate brand when looser control just didn’t cut it (because fans are just like that, were fundamentally ungovernable).

The TLDR of it all is that George Lucas and Lucasfilm (this was before the Disney sale obviously) flip-flopped a lot on their stance towards fan creation, at first praising their creativity, but quickly moving to REALLY intense cracking-down on fanfics and fan movies (spoiler alert: the crackdowns started to happen when fans started to make it gay) (or generally sexual, but mostly the problem seemed to be the gay stuff). The thing is, its really hard to control – let alone know about- everything consumers do or say about a brand on the internet. So what does Lucasfilm do? They start creating official, Lucasfilm-sanctionned fan film contests-even letting fans use some assets like music or effects-but with really specific rules (and claiming the IP for Lucasfilm, making it not belong to fans anymore, of course). So not profanity, no altering canon, and CERTAINLY no sex (AND CERTAINLY NO GAY LUKE SKYWALKER) (with the Chanel boots). You get it now right? Lucasfilm = Abzorbaloff. Or like they WISH they could absorb fans that efficiently, make them a part of the brand, under complete control. That’s still kind of the ideal utopia of media relationships for a lot of these producers too I’m guessing: all the fan labour and productivity, without any of the potential tensions fan creativity can create. Corporate-controlled fan clubs that uphold canon and are basically word-of-mouth and customer loyalty machines.

Except, that’s not how communities work. Communities work like LINDA; a bunch of seeming randos are brought together by shared interest, but eventually a deeper sense of “us-ness” develops, and we start to care for one another and have our own agendas and agencies. (heck, everytime Tumblr staff tries to get this site’s users in line we basically laugh in their faces)

So yeah, caveat about the Abzorbaloff though: as I said earlier, a kid created this monster for a contest, RTD did not create it. Therefore, I don’t know if the absorption power was like thought about as deeply as I have thought about it. Nevertheless, I think the choice to make the Abzorbaloff’s human “Kennedy” disguise look the way it does and interact with LINDA the way he does speaks to my conclusions. While RTD didn’t create the character, he wrote the story around it, and I think he used it to great effect to tell a story about fandom, community, and media attempts at control.

Conclusion

Ultimately I saw a ton of parallels to phenomena documented in scholarship I’m currently reading in Love and Monsters and I needed to get these ideas out of my head. I’m fairly certain im digging a little bit too deep into certain things, but ultimately my view of this oft decried episode is that it really actually has a lot more to offer than people give it credit for. I also think it presents an actually much more sympathetic view of fans than we’ve previously recognized in it. Especially, it feels WAY more respectful and like humorous than that god awful era of 2010s fandom where writers and actors would routinely shit on us in panels for shipping characters or depict us in their shows as crazy conspiracy theorists who think they own the show but actually can never be right (Looking at you Mr. Moffatt and Sherlock season 3). Personally, I much prefer the LINDA endearing weirdos with trauma, interests, and lives, who find kinship and community in each other.

Holy crap that was long. anyways. Really deep in the DW hole rn so I'm probably gonna write something about Martha Jones soon (instead of my thesis mehehehehehe)

Links and sources

I’m going to properly cite any academic articles and books, but since this is not homework and no one is forcing me to use APA 7, the random webpages, discussion threads and other miscellaneous stuff is getting dumped into a list of links. Anyways enjoy

“Real” Bibliography (nerd)

Jenkins, H. (1992). Textual poachers: television fans & participatory culture (Ser. Studies in culture and communication). Routledge.

Jenkins, H. (2006). Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York University Press.

Linerman, S. (1992) “ ‘I’ll be here with you’: Fans, Fantasy and the Figure of Elvis.” In The Adoring Audience: Fan Culture and Popular Media (ed. Lewis, L. A.) Routledge. pp. 107-134

OpenAI. (2024). ChatGPT (May 2023 version) [can you summarize the plot of "love & monsters" (an episode of doctor who) from beginning to end as a series of bullet points? (include spoilers)] https://chat.openai.com/c/7ef1ccab-c6ed-488c-99c8-3a94b877fe4a

Links

Reddit threads: https://www.reddit.com/r/doctorwho/comments/ex3zvm/why_love_monsters_isnt_the_worst_episode/?rdt=51957

IMDB:

Youtube:

Doctor Who Confidential on the filming of “Love & Monsters” : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRGDMg4XZ1s

TheCoolKat:https://thecoolkat1995.wordpress.com/2019/05/03/doctor-who-love-and-monsters-2006/

#doctor who #new who #tenth doctor #doctor who season 2 #dr who #doctor who love and monsters #doctor who love & monsters #russell t davies #doctor who analysis #media analysis #fan studies #henry jenkins #media studies

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merp-blerp · 6 months

Text

Some Tincrow Moments From The Wiz Production I Just Saw While It’s Fresh In My Mind

Note: I had never seen the stage version of The Wiz before last night, so I could be missing things and points. Also, my memory might be just a bit fuzzy on exact details, but I know this stuff mention did indeed happen at some point.

Avery Wilson was Scarecrow and Phillip Johnson Richardson was Tinman. They absolutely killed it. Everyone did. I’m going to need a cast album and pro-shot please!

Scarecrow is a dance God once they get him off the poll in time for “You Can’t Win”. Why they kept Michael Jackson on a damn poll in the movie despite the fact that his dance moves would've been really cool for Scarecrow, I’ll never know.

This is the first direct Oz retelling I’ve seen to give Scarecrow a human backstory (Wicked is more of/better off seen as it’s own thing in my opinion). He was once a scientist who got his brain taken by one of the witches and turned into a Scarecrow. I don’t remember if it’s mentioned if he had a family in this show—it might’ve not been—but if he did I guess he would’ve completely forgotten because he “has no brain”. And I might be wrong, but I think it was mentioned he had a name too, but if so I don’t remember it. I find that interesting and fun to play with, especially if one would be able to compare and contrast that with Nick Chopper’s backstory (and/or whatever the Tinman’s name might be in this version of Oz; guy collects names like candy). I would have to see The Wiz again in order to do that myself, but you know, I like the idea.

Tinman’s backstory is slightly different. He was too gay and sassy for his own good, saying one of the witches was a “rusty” singer, causing her to turn him from a lumberjack into a “heartless” Tinman who gradually lost almost all of his memories outside of the mere fact that he once had a family due to this curse. He thinks he doesn’t have a heart because he can’t remember the ones he loved, just that he used to. Nimmie Amee isn’t a part of his story in this show. That’s about as tragic as the backstory Baum gave him, if not worse.

Give me an angst with a happy ending AU where Tinman and Scarecrow knew each other as humans but both forgot due to their curses, only to rediscover each other through their found families. Imagine Scarecrow having Nimmie Amee’s original role in a way—noooo—

Scarecrow mimicking Tinman’s rusty dance moves while they oil him (he mimicked a lot of people throughout the show—Dorothy, the wizard’s announcers calling his name, maybe etc., so I guess it was just his cute little thing).

When Dorothy’s trying to convince the gang to bring Lion along Tinman says “Are you sure? We already have to bring Captain Brainless?” (or something a lot like that, I'm paraphrasing), thinking they had too many already as if his husband wasn't first in line on the journey before him, only for Scarecrow to say, “I’m captain?!?!” *Insert cute happy head waggles* (Hits different when you know Scarecrow becomes the ruler of Oz after the first book till Ozma’s found, but his leadership wasn't mentioned in The Wiz so maybe that's not on purpose) I adore Avery Wilson’s take on Scarecrow. Tinman has always been my favorite of Dorothy’s friends if I had to pick one, but Wilson’s performance really made Scarecrow stand out even more than usual. I don’t know if I can explain it, it might just have to be seen; pray there’s a slime tutorial out there.

Lion’s kinda gay too, but in solo. And I know Ozma’s not here, so there’s not really any evidence for Dorothy’s queerness… but she is—I can feel it in my lesbian soul, okay!?!?

All of Dorothy’s friends not only want their gifts, but don't see the point in their existences without them. It made me sad for them.

I don’t know where to mention it, but Toto’s not in this show at all—poor guy. EDIT: I just learned that in the original production, Toto was played by a white dog as a joke that there was an all-black cast as opposed to him traditionally being a black/brown dog with a white cast. That is hilarious—why didn't they recreate that???

Tincrow’s only straight-feeling moment is with them both being distracted by the poppies (which caught me off guard in this show because traditionally Scarecrow and Tinman are the only ones not affected by the poppies because they’re not flesh and blood like Dorothy, Lion, and Toto; in this Dorothy was the one to break everyone free from them. I’ve been trying to understand the purpose of this change. Maybe to give Dorothy a bit more agency). The poppies were these sensual flower ladies trying to convince the gang to be lazy, which on it’s own is a fun twist on the flowers that put Dorothy and Lion to sleep. But hey, maybe that makes it not straight, just lazy. I'm all for Bi4Bi Tincrow too.

After the Kalidahs attack they comfort and hype each other and Dorothy up (Dorothy’s their sapphic adopted daughter, in this essay, I will—).

I forget when exactly this happens, maybe during the Kalidahs scene, but at one point they casually cling to each other's arms for no(?) reason. They just met and they’re already married.

Scarecrow backup-singing a little before everyone else joins Tinman during “What Would I Do If I Could Feel” (at least at my showing, I don’t know if this is a regular occurrence as a part of the show or just something that happened to happen at mine).

Making fun of the Wicked Witch together, calling her smelly, and having Lion join in. Bros, that’s what got you in trouble to begin with—messing with a dang witch!

Interestingly, the idea of Dorothy’s friends having they’re gifts all along isn’t here. Instead, it’s implied that after they kill the last wicked witch the curse is mostly lifted, with Tincrow’s gifts returning to them, but they stay a scarecrow and tin-man for some reason. I like to think they still had them all along though, that idea’s too cute and sweet for me to let go of.

The last time we see them they leave the stage together, Lion going ahead of them to reunite with his mom. I can’t explain why this feels important to me. I guess because usually characters exit the stage individually as like a goodbye queue to the audience, knowing that that last step off the stage will detemand the last impression of the characters. So the fact that the last impression of both of them is them together feels special. Or maybe it’s just me.

They both had such sassy black queer vibes the whole time. The show itself already has such sass, but both of them, Scarecrow especially, were oozing it in different fonts. They were giving off bear x twink—or maybe otter couple vibes.

Gay or not, The Wiz is so great! I recommend it so much!

#the wiz #the wonderful wizard of oz #the wizard of oz #tincrow #tinman #tin man #tin woodsman #scarecrow #l frank baum #avery wilson #phillip johnson richardson

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gffa · 6 months

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Oh my word, thank you for such a lovely, detailed reply to my ask about comics???? I was expecting to be redirected to some links or blogs, which is ofc great too, but thanks so much for taking the time to type out and formulate all that for me?? I’ve never actually read a comic before so your first paragraph was a bit mind blowing (I had no idea comics worked like that, I thought each comic was like a chapter in the same book ahaha). I also had NO idea about the different eras but it already makes so much of what I’ve seen from the fandom make so much more sense, so thank you for that! (It’s reminds me, like, where people in history never bothered to write down stuff they thought was obvious bc it was obvious to them and then people came along and went ???, so following with this metaphor, thank you for making me “???” lol)

Anyways, sorry, super rambly ask, but thank you so much for taking the time and effort to reply so succinctly and also thoroughly, and also explaining what pieces of media are significant and why so… like seriously, that was so nice of you and I’m??? Ajahwjehrh??? Thank you sssm, once my exams are over I’m definitely gonna have a new media obsession :)

Aww, you're very welcome! I'm glad that I could help ease the way for you! As someone who started with Batman: The Animated Series and Batman Beyond as my first real understanding of these characters (cultural osmosis doesn't count!), it was kind of a hard leap into comics, trying to understand how all of this fit together. To be fair, I don't want to give the impression that there's no coherency in comics from one author to another--it's very clear that a lot of authors are big fans of other authors' runs or they're building on stuff that came before their own run, but I emphasize the lack of consistency between authors because you absolutely cannot rely on that consistency being there, even if it often happens. You cannot pick up a comic from 20 years ago and expect the story to be exactly the same, because it's constantly being retold--authors want to be able to tell flashback stories at multiple points in the timeline, like take Dick Grayson, that "Robin & Batman" series I recommended is a retelling of their early days, of how Dick came up with the Robin costume, and it changes things (like gave him pants this time around, which I'm fine with) and I love that we can get retellings, because now I get to choose if I want to read that one or one of the older ones! We get a lot of really fun new stories able to be told, updated versions that weren't written back in the 1940s with different social norms, and I think that helps keep the comics fresh and interesting! And you're not wrong that some comics are like a different chapter in a single book! That's what Star Wars comics are aiming to be (well, within their own three distinct continuities) or what a lot of non-mainline DC/Marvel comics are like. It's just the main shared world superhero comics are a constantly shifting landscape! (To be fair to fandom not talking about a lot of this, it's also because the different eras are HELLA complicated to talk about if you haven't been reading comics regularly and broadly for 20+ years, like I had a solid grip on things until I left, and now I've been back for five months and I'm STILL fuzzy on just what Dawn of DC even is. It's hard to talk about stuff when you have a fuzzy idea of something, enough to pick up a comic and read, but can't explain high level detail in a post that would take you an hour just to write out all the weird little connections that lead up to an event!) But also thank you for letting me know your level of familiarity with cultural osmosis and what you're interested in getting into! Often times it's hard to know, "Okay, do I have to explain the different Robins or has cultural osmosis taught you enough that we can skip straight to the finer details?" because I love writing out broader views of the characters, but I don't want to patronize someone who is just looking for recs for starting places when making the jump to comics! I want to drag you guys in, but sometimes that requires tailoring things a bit more to where a given person is at/how much they know/what they're specifically intrigued by! Give me more info and I won't shut up in trying to reel you in. :D

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam

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comicaurora · 2 years

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You mentioned that young justice did a lot you didn’t like after s1- how would your ideal season 2 and beyond be?

Oh man, that's a dangerous question to contemplate.

Caveat that this is how I personally would've liked to see it play out, and I haven't rewatched it in a while so I may be fuzzy on the details or timeline of events. And word of warning, this got long.

First move would be to bin the timeskip. We'd be letting the characters age up gradually - maybe one year a season. Since it's perfectly structured for episodic adventures, we can imply downtime between episodes to fill out a year - plus this gives us opportunities for regular birthday or holiday episodes without an obligation to do them every time. We have enough characters without real regular birthdays that I just think it would be cute if Wally was like "congrats Conner and M'gann, I don't know squat about the martian year or how clone time works so I've decided it's your birthday, I made Shazam get us a cake"

Nixing the timeskip gives us the opportunity to put focus on Robin becoming Nightwing as an actual arc of its own, which could be an interesting opportunity to adjust the way it happened in the comic - which couldn't quite be adapted wholesale, because in the comic Robin was running around leading the Teen Titans as Robin for years and years with the Titans before he decided it was time to forge an identity of his own, accepting that he was fully out from under Batman's shadow now that Jason Todd was officially the new Robin. There was some comic angst from Dick about Bruce never officially adopting him which we could loop into that arc, since this Batman is pretty perfectly designed for being a well-meaning but emotionally distant and uncommunicative dad. What I'd personally want to avoid is leaning two hard on the Angsty Robin angle, because (a) that was already covered by Teen Titans (which we'd also want to avoid too much overlap with) and (b) Nightwing is at his best when he's optimistic, cheerful and emotionally well-adjusted. It'd be more fun, I think, to explore a version of Robin that is burying his angst under optimism and cheer in an arc that culminates in his cathartic dad-issues convo with Batman and subsequently his transition to being Nightwing. This gives us opportunities for fun intercharacter dynamics! Robin spent most of season 1 being the reliable party member who had the most experience superheroing and helped keep everyone grounded. Giving him an emotionally destabilizing personal arc and letting the rest of the party take a turn helping him through it could be fun! Plus, we've got one telepath with no boundaries (M'gann), two characters with a lot of experience with Dad Problems (Artemis and Superboy) and two characters who will be 100% supportive even if they don't fully know what's going on (Kid Flash and Aqualad), so he wouldn't be lacking in people realizing what's going on and helping him through it. This is fully a result of my "nightwing is my fave" bias but I think it'd also really work to let the gang have more fun group dynamics with personal emotional stakes, and I think Robin deserves to be helped once in a while, ya know?

Most of the other s2 timeskip stuff I'd either want to nix or foreshadow better. I don't particularly like the Superboy/M'gann "breach of psychic trust" breakup but I think it'd bother me less if it was actually built up rather than skipped over. If we have to do it, let's start with the premise that M'gann doesn't really get that humans are much less comfortable with telepathy than martians are. It's planted in season 1 and mostly centered on Superboy, the only party member with explicit trauma about telepathic intrusion and mind control due to his clone conditioning. He's the one who reacts most harshly and angrily when M'gann does her psychic link thing, but his reaction mellows out as he learns to trust and rely on her to protect him against other telepathic intrusions.

But while this helps improve their relationship, it doesn't fix the underlying miscommunication on M'gann's end - she seems to feel like her peers freaking out about her telepathically popping into their heads is a temporary imbalance, especially since she does the psychic link thing basically every mission instead of having to invest in earbuds or communicators. She's so comfortable with telepathy, especially after season 1 where she reveals her one big secret (being a white martian with a monstrous base form) and no longer has anything to mentally hide from the gang, that I think this could be an interesting miscommunication to explore. Ultimately her teammates will still value their privacy and mental autonomy even after they've spilled their big secrets and learned to trust each other, but M'gann is unlikely to realize this because from her perspective they've just finally stopped being weird about this stuff. M'gann is essentially experiencing slow culture shock at realizing just how private humans and other non-telepathic people are about their thoughts, and how much they at best mistrust and at worst hate and fear the thought of anyone else popping into their heads and rummaging around. So really, I think the psychic breach of trust thing should happen earlier and in a more minor way than it did in the season we got. M'gann using her powers to make Superboy forget a fight they had is a breach of trust and very uncool, but it also seems a little too extreme for the dynamic and understanding we've seen these characters share - even if she'd be willing to do that to anyone else, I think she'd know that doing it to Superboy would be the number one way to break his already fragile trust in her powers.

I'd go with a more slow buildup - start with M'gann commenting unprompted on the casual intrusive thoughts of her peers, totally nonjudmentally (she knows better than anyone that thoughts don't make you a bad person, obviously) but in a way that still makes them uncomfortable or angry. Maybe give her a plot reason to invade someone's mindscape with the best of intentions - could go classic on that one, give us a supervillain with dream-invading powers or something. Encourage her to push the boundaries with her teammates that she doesn't seem to realize are there. Maybe let Martian Manhunter sit her down and give her the "no really, you can't keep your mind this open in casual interactions, it's not about being bad for you, it's about being bad for them" talk. M'gann needs to learn to understand what privacy means, and she needs to become willing to impose polite and moral limitations on how she uses her powers. Since we're negating the timeskip where Beast Boy is introduced into the team, maybe we could work that in here - as he's introduced and develops his powers and he and M'gann's sibling relationship becomes more pronounced, especially if we keep the thing about his mom dying, we have a good character in-road to getting M'gann to better understand how to bridge the gap between herself and humanity.

Personally I'd nix both "aqualad pretends to be a bad guy" and "artemis and kid flash retire from superheroing". I think the show started kind of over-relying on the "you thought I betrayed my friends but actually we planned the whole thing in advance" gambit after it worked so well in the first season, and not telling the team telepath about the secret plan was pretty textbook idiot plot stuff. If we really want Artemis and Aqualad undercover there are still ways to make that work, but I'd say push that way down the line. Give us more time with the team first. If we want Artemis and Wally to retire from superheroing to focus on college and their relationship, that's workable, but that'd be a season 3 or 4 thing at the earliest.

If we want to expand the cast, let's do it gradually - I favor episodic adventures, and "there's some new weirdness in *location* that turns out to be either a supervillain plot, a new kid superhero to give our phone number, or both" is pretty much ideal adventure-of-the-week stuff. If we absolutely must bring in Impulse and Blue Beetle, let's not make the stuff with the Reach the only thing happening that season.

The biggest difficulty with plotting this show is avoiding just making Teen Titans, But Again. That unfortunately means a lot of the best classic comic arcs are off limits without severe modification - Judas Contract, Terror of Trigon, even Brother Blood's whole thing are kind of nixed. This is probably why the show never brought in Raven or Starfire, even though they absolutely could and should. So I understand the appeal of bringing in other threats like supervillain conspiracies and alien invasions and alien invasions but different this time, but this party lineup is demonstrably at its best when it's dealing with less apocalyptic supervillains-of-the-week. That said, in the comics, Raven arranges for the New Teen Titans to form because she goes to the Justice League for help with the Trigon prophecy and they turn her away - an arc that would fit bizarrely well with this version of the Justice League, which are a bit more dickish than their standard portrayal. Letting her go to the already-formed Young Justice crew for help would let us introduce a modified and potentially shortened Trigon arc without having to centralize Raven in the cast like they did in Teen Titans and Titans - could just add her to the expanded roster of Miscellaneous Heroes They're Buds With after they beat up her evil dad. She's also a little older than the rest of the Titans in the comics (and looks MUCH older than them), which could be used in this adaptation and help set this version apart from the other Trigon adaptations that have a tendency to make her increasingly younger - could get a lot of mileage out of making her a slightly awkward and aloof young woman rather than an emotionally troubled child. (Plus, if we want a cheeky nod at the comic-run romantic subplot between her and Kid Flash without actually breaking up the Artemis/Wally OTP we could just have Wally be his usual level of casually flirtatious with this Cool Spooky Goth lady and be gently dismissed because he's "a bit immature" for her.) Also, give me classic '80s hair Starfire or give me death, Nightwing deserves a love interest who can and will bridal carry him

Also, if we absolutely must "kill" Wally, we're bringing him back in one season max. Getting disintegrated into the speedforce is basically just a day at the spa for speedsters.

Overall my angle would be leaning into the massive ensemble cast potential after a proper season or two of just getting to know the main crew and letting them develop and explore the status quo. Trickle in a few more kid heroes during the early episodic adventures. Sprinkle in some more episodes where they deal with one or more members of the Justice League without anyone being mind controlled at the time. Dial back the Grand Conspiracy angle and let our heroes have a few unconditional wins once in a while. More scaled-down character-focused episodes like Homefront and Coldhearted where we fix the camera on one member of the team and get really deep inside their head as they go through something emotionally taxing but are ultimately rewarded in the end. We can still dive to dark and traumatic levels, but we need to counterbalance it with unconditional levity and victories for the heroes so the grimdark stings more when it hits. More character focus, less sweeping conspiracies, no more skipping over major arcs of character development, un-kill Wally West 2k22

#asks #not aurora

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stargazer-sims · 1 year

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Journal Entry #49 (part one)

previously - Promises

Victor

You guys! I can see!

Okay... I can sort of see. Everything's still kind of fuzzy, but I woke up this morning, rolled over in bed and realized that the picture of Yuri and me that he keeps on his nightstand didn't look like just a bunch of yellow, beige and black smudges any more.

Yeah... I've been sleeping in Yuri's bed. He's been in the hospital since Tuesday, and despite the house being full of people, I'm lonely without him. Sleeping in his bed helps comfort me a little. Besides, the only other place for me would be back on the shikibuton in the dining room, and Uncle Kaz says he’s already made himself too comfortable in there for us to switch.

I know you’re all wondering about Yuri. I'll explain all about his situation in a minute, but I gotta tell you about this morning first, because I’m too excited about it to save telling about it for later.

I stared at the picture for several seconds. Then, just to make sure I was really seeing it, I deliberately opened and closed my eyes a bunch of times, and focused on the picture each time I opened them. Even though I knew it wouldn't change anything, I pressed gently on my eyelids with my fingertips and probably sounded like I was losing my mind as I mumbled, "You guys better keep working. Understand?"

They did. The final time I opened my eyes, I could still see the photo, somewhat blurry but recognizable as the image of myself and Yuri that had become familiar to me.

I yelled so loud for my mom that I think she must've thought something was wrong and panicked. The good thing was, she was already awake and I didn't startle her out of her sleep. I knew she was already up because she and Julian have been sleeping in my room, which is just across the hall, but I could hear her literally running up the stairs. She was shouting my name just as loudly as I was calling for her. We probably woke up everybody else in the house, but I didn't care.

Mom burst through the door with an exclamation of, "Victor! What's the matter?"

I could see the details of her face for the first time since she'd arrived, and I just gotta say, my mom is beautiful. I held out my arms to her. There were already tears running down my face, but I somehow managed to get out, "I can see. I... I can see you."

She hurried to me and pulled me into a hug, and we both spent a few minutes crying while she held me.

"What happened?" she asked, after we’d both calmed down and caught our breath. She wiped tears from my cheek with her thumb, and I leaned into her hand a little, remembering how she used to do that when I was a kid.

"I'm not sure," I said. "I guess the swelling in my brain is finally going down?"

"Did you wake up like this?"

“Yeah, I did. I didn't believe it at first. I was scared it'd just disappear again, but I think it's okay. Stuff is still blurry, but it's a lot better than before."

"Your doctor said it'd take a couple of weeks for the worst of the symptoms to resolve, didn't she?"

"She did, but I don't think I really believed her. It's kind of funny that it happened on the day I'm supposed to see the ophthalmologist, too."

"Are you still going?" Mom asked.

"Of course," I said. "Dr. Ishida did her best to fit me in on short notice. It'd be rude not to go. Plus, I still want to see what she thinks. Like, I want to know if she can tell me whether I'll get all my vision back, or if this is going to be it."

"Is Mrs. Okamoto still going with you?" Mom asked.

"With us," I amended. "You're still coming, aren't you? Actually, I don't think we really need Mrs. Okamoto to come along. It was mostly so we'd know where to go, but I know where the clinic is. You can drive, and I'm pretty sure I can see well enough now to give you directions."

"That sounds good," Mom said. "I think I'd be more comfortable with just the two of us, anyway."

"Me too," I admitted. "Hey... do you think you could help me find something to read? I need to check if I can do it.”

She glanced around for a second and then reached for my phone on the bedside table. “Here. Read me the date and time.”

My lock screen is a picture of me and Elsa, which was taken by Seiji's coach, Masao. In it, I'm getting big air and Elsa's underside is clearly visible, her name in white script and the Canadian flag standing out proudly against the bold blue and yellow.

I had to squint a little bit, but I read aloud, “Friday, February fifth. 6:39 a.m."

I hadn't even noticed it was already February until that moment.

"Good job, sweetheart!" Mom sounded exactly like she was talking to a little kid who'd tied his shoelaces by himself or printed his own name for the first time, but I didn't mind one bit. I feel like I was probably glowing from the praise, as if I'd done something monumental.

Then again, maybe I had. I'd been terrified that my vision would never get better and that I'd have to spend the rest of my life trapped in a fog and being led around everywhere, so to just wake up and suddenly be able to see stuff again was huge and overwhelming.

It struck me how much independence this would give back to me. For the past two weeks, I hadn't been able to do the most basic things like reading my messages, choosing an audio book to listen to, or even picking out the clothes I wanted to wear each day and checking myself in the mirror. All of that and more was available to me again, and I was grateful.

I studied my screen for a second longer, verifying both the date and my renewed ability to read it. Then, I looked up from my phone and into my mom's beaming face. "Mom, you know what day today is?"

"Friday, February fifth," she replied, sounding slightly amused.

"Yeah, but February fifth is my anniversary of coming here."

"Oh," she said. "That's right."

"I can hardly wait to visit Yuri today, 'cause I'm sure he remembers too. I can't wait to see him. Like, literally see him."

I recalled the day I'd first landed in Japan. Yuri and I had known each other for three years, and both of us had been feeling impatient with our long-distance relationship. We agreed that we needed to be together in person, and I think we both knew it’d be me who’d end up travelling, even before I told him I would come to him.

I remember my emotions shifting back and forth between excitement and nervousness as I made my way through the tunnel that led from the plane to the the noisy, crowded international airport in Kyoto. Yuri had been waiting there for me in the arrivals area, holding a hand-lettered cardboard sign with 'NELSON' on it, like something from a movie, as if I wouldn't recognize him immediately on sight. We'd joked about him meeting me at the airport with a sign, but I hadn't thought he'd really do it. I was already madly in love with him, but I'd fallen just a bit harder at that.

Knowing that he wasn't comfortable being touched, I'd had to resist the urge to run to him and catch him in a tight hug to complete our movie-like scene, but the way his gorgeous dark eyes sparkled and the delicate pink blush that spread across his nose and cheeks when he reached shyly for my hand more than made up for the lack of a welcome embrace. The hugs and cuddles and soft little kisses would come, with time and patience.

Now, two years on from our first in-person meeting, he's not shy at all about touching me or letting me touch him, and he seeks out affection from me on his own. In fact, he often demands it, in the most adorable and endearing way possible.

One of my favourite things is snuggling with him in the mornings, breathing in the sweet scent of him — strawberries and sandalwood — and admiring how cute he is with his wide brown eyes and sleep-tousled hair. I never fail to melt with pleasure at his touch when we're in bed like that, because he knows exactly how to find all my 'secret spots', as he calls them. His feathery kisses against my collarbone always make me go weak, and there are other places on my body that I think he likes to tease with his clever little fingers just to hear the sounds I'll involuntarily produce. He plays me like his violin, and I'm happy to let him.

I've been missing those moments of gentle intimacy. I miss everything, really; the warmth and softness of his pale, perfect skin when he embraces me and presses his forehead against mine in greeting, the way he says my name, the way he pouts when I remind him to eat or take his medication, and the way he smiles sweetly in thanks when I bring him his morning tea so he can enjoy it in bed. I confess, I'm hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him, and I miss being with him.

Not for the first time, I wished everything would go back to normal. I wanted Yuri to get better and come home to me. I wanted my arms to hurry up and heal so I could get my casts off and be able to hold my sweet boy, because I'm sure he's missing that just as much as I am. What was new for me in all this wishing was that with the return of some of my vision, I was starting to feel hopeful that maybe we really could get back to normal.

"Do you want to get up now?" Mom was asking me.

"What?" It took a second for me to pull myself away from thinking about my husband and to get my mind back on the day ahead. "Uh... yeah, I do."

"Are you hungry?"

"Mom, seriously? Do you even need to ask? But, I want a shower first, and do you think you could shave me? I have to look presentable for the eye doctor today, not all scruffy and gross."

She smiled. "I thought you were growing your beard out."

I ran my fingertips over my jaw and chin, and gave her what I imagined was a crooked grin. "Yeah, but I'm guessing it doesn't look very nice right now, all weird and patchy like this. I can start over when I don't have any appointments that require somebody getting up close and personal."

"All right, but I think we'd better get Julian or Kenji to help you shave."

"Julian," I said.

My relationship with my father-in-law might've been improving, but I'm still not comfortable enough with him to let him near my face with a sharp object. Not that I was worried he'd do anything on purpose, but I didn't know how well he'd handle it and I'd be nervous about him cutting me by accident. I'd much rather have Julian's steady, confident veterinary surgeon's hands performing that particular task.

"Okay," Mom said. "I'll ask him when he gets up."

"I don't want to wait till Julian gets up for my shower. Can you help me in there, at least?"

"Of course," she said. "I guess you're over being embarrassed about me seeing you in the buff?"

I laughed out loud at that. "You know what Uncle Kaz said."

"I heard him telling you that I'd already seen it all before," she said. "I swear, that man has no filters. If it's in his head, it comes out of his mouth."

"You gotta admit he's a great guy, though."

"He's growing on me."

"He's hard not to like." I pushed the blankets off myself and then awkwardly turned around so that I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor. "All right. Here I go."

Mom steadied me with nothing more than a hand under my elbow, as I got out of bed almost completely unaided for the first time in two weeks.

Mom was quick to envelop me in a hug once I was in my feet. "Well done, Victor."

I grinned. "I'm going to walk to the bathroom by myself."

"Go for it," she said. "But, I'm still going to help you when you're ready to go downstairs."

I nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea." I wandered over to Yuri's wardrobe cupboard and hooked my fingers into the little grooves in the doors to open it up. A lot of my clothes are in Yuri's cupboard, and a bunch of his are in mine. It's why I can't find my stuff most of the time. That, and I'm also kinda disorganized. "I think I'll go with a button-up shirt. Yuri would want me to look respectable for my appointment. Let's see... What would he boss me into wearing?"

Behind me, I could hear my mother trying to hold in a laugh. "Even when he's not here, he's here."

"Yup," I agreed. I struggled to get the shirt I wanted off its hanger, and ultimately had to let Mom help me, but I still felt triumphant about having found my own shirt and jeans. "Okay. Shower time."

Showering is a chore that involves literally wrapping my arms in plastic trash bags so my casts don't get wet and, up until today, sitting on a little plastic step-stool while I was in there because I was too nervous and unsteady on my feet. Today, I didn't need the stool, but I obviously still needed the plastic bags. Mom and Julian are both getting pretty efficient at wrapping and unwrapping my arms, but I'll be glad when no one has to do that any more.

My appointment with Dr. Ishida was at ten o'clock, so I had plenty of time beforehand to get ready, eat breakfast, and even exchange some texts with my boss and my friends. I had to tap out my messages painstakingly with my index finger, due to not being able to use my thumbs, but this was definitely progress. Tomiko, Takahiro and Fox were all glad to hear from me and wanted to know when they could stop by for a visit.

Oddly, the person I’d expected to reply first didn't reply at all. Seiji and I usually text and talk a lot. I’d missed him over the last couple weeks, and I’d imagined he missed chatting with me as well. I tried to convince myself not to read too much into his lack of a response, assuming that he was probably up on the mountain and didn't have access to his phone.

But then, I realized how early it still was. He wouldn't be teaching any lessons at this hour, and he definitely wouldn't be training. Masao, a notoriously late sleeper, never has Seiji out training before nine-thirty or ten o'clock. Sometimes my coach and I have already been out there for an hour or two before Seiji and Masao make their appearance. Last season, when Masao was my coach too, that was my biggest pet peeve.

No, it was a safe bet that Seiji was somewhere having breakfast, perhaps eating rice and fish at his parents' house, or grabbing a latte and a breakfast sandwich at the book café. He should’ve have his phone on him. He should’ve been answering me. I didn't understand why he wouldn't, especially since I hadn't talked to him in two weeks.

Don't panic, I told myself. There's got to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

I resolved to try contacting him again later, and turned my attention to sending a message to my coach.

Sakura, my coach, absolutely freaked out when she received my text, and didn't bother to text me back. Like, maybe three seconds after it came up as 'read', my phone was ringing and the caller ID displayed her name and number.

When I said hello, Sakura didn't even greet me. She screamed down the line at me, "Victor Okamoto-Nelson, you idiot! I've been worried sick about you! Two weeks, and this is the first I hear from you in person? I swear, if I'd gotten one more message from your husband or father-in-law—"

"I'm feeling much better, Fujimoto-sensei. Thank you for asking," I said, as calmly as I could because I knew it'd annoy her.

I actually was feeling a lot better. Today was the best day I'd had since my accident, both psychologically and physically. My arms and rib were hurting, but not to the level where I needed the strong prescription painkillers Dr. Sato had given me, and I finally felt confident enough to walk without help, except on the stairs.

"Cut it out with the sensei bullshit, you dumbass." Sakura sounded angry, but I could hear fondness beneath it. "I'm coming straight over there to kick your butt for putting me through absolute hell for the past two weeks."

"Later," I said. "I've got a doctor's appointment soon, and then I'm going to spend the rest of the day at the hospital with Yuri. You can come over tonight."

There was a long pause, and then, "Hang on... Yuri is in the hospital now?"

"Mr. Okamoto's been messaging you. He didn't tell you?"

"Obviously not. Is Yuri going to be okay?"

"He has an infection," I said. "The doctor called it a 'moderately severe intestinal complication'."

"That doesn't sound good," Sakura observed.

"He's pretty sick," I confirmed. "They're giving him massive doses of antibiotics, and the side effects are brutal. He's getting fluids, and they're doing an intravenous nutrition infusion too, 'cause he can't eat." I closed my eyes for a second, and let out a long, slow breath. "It's hard to watch."

"I can't even imagine how hard," she said sympathetically, all the fierce energy from just a moment earlier gone from her voice. "I don't know how you cope. I'd be losing my mind if Takeshi was ever that sick."

"It's not easy, but it's something I've learned to accept," I told her truthfully. "The worst part for me this time is that I can't take care of him myself."

"You've gotten pretty good at that. Taking care of him."

"Yeah, but it's a two-arm job, so right now I'm useless," I said. "Anyway, Yuri's doctor says she's optimistic, but she also says she won’t even consider releasing him until he can eat on his own, or at least drink a meal replacement drink. She thinks it'll be the middle of next week at the earliest, and she’s recommending that we have somebody from the home health program care for him for a while once he gets out.”

"Are you going to be okay with that?" Sakura asked.

"Honestly? I don't have the luxury of not being okay with it. Mom and Julian can't stay with us for too long, 'cause I mean, their clinic isn't going to run without them forever. Yuri's parents have been awesome, but they've got other stuff going on as well. We need somebody, and I don't get to say I don't like the idea."

"What about Yuri? Is he going to be okay with it?"

"He's not really in a position to choose either, unfortunately." I frowned, thinking about how he was likely to react to the presence of a home healthcare nurse in our house. "Not that it'll stop him from expressing himself about it. Like, I hope this person is patient, because they haven't seen whining and temper outbursts until they've seen Yuri's whining and temper outbursts."

"Poor baby," Sakura said.

"Excuse me? He gets 'poor baby' and I got 'dumbass'?"

"Poor little Yuri didn't throw himself down the mountain at seventy kilometers per hour and land on his head, did he? And you can still eat. Probably everything you can get your hands on, as often as possible, if I know you."

"And some things I can't get my hands on," I admitted.

"You'd better not be gaining too much weight while you're lying around doing nothing but eating and being waited on."

“You’re the worst,” I said.

"Can Takeshi and I visit Yuri?"

“Yes, you guys can visit him. He hasn’t been up to talking or really doing much of anything, but he might like to see you.”

“We’ll bring him a get well card.”

“He’d like that.”

“Consider it done,” Sakura said. “See you tonight?”

"I'll see you tonight," I agreed. "You can hassle me some more then, if you still feel you need to, okay?"

"Seven o'clock," she said. "You'd better be home."

"I will."

"Good, because your other love has been missing you, and she’d never forgive you if you stood her up.”

I didn't need to ask who she meant. "Thanks for keeping Elsa safe for me. Tell her I miss her too."

"I'll bring her home to you tonight," Sakura promised. "Good luck at the doctor."

“Thanks. Oh… wait a second! Before you hang up, I gotta ask you something.”

“Sure,” she said. “Ask away.”

“Have you seen Seiji?”

“Seiji Hinamori?”

“He’s the only Seiji I know,” I said. “I tried texting him, and he didn’t answer. I told myself not to worry about it, but now that I’m thinking about it…”

“I hear you,” Sakura said. “Actually, now that you mention him, I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe not since the day you got hurt.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said.

“Maybe ask Takahiro if he’s seen him? If anyone knows anything about Seiji, it’ll be Taka.”

“True.”

“Now’s really not the time to get caught up in worrying about Seiji, though,” Sakura said. “What doctor are you seeing today?”

“Dr. Ishida. She’s the eye doctor.”

“That’s your priority.” Her tone of voice was the same one she always uses when we’re reviewing video of my training runs and she wants me to work on something in particular during our next practice. “That, and Yuri.”

“Right,” I said. "It goes without saying that Yuri is my priority. Always."

“Yes, but you need to remember to make yourself a priority sometimes. And you have a tendency to get overwhelmed when there's too much going on, so I'm just reminding you to focus."

"It's scary, how well you know me."

"When I get to your place tonight, we’ll call Taka together, okay? That is, if you don't hear back from Seiji in the meantime. I’ll check with the Recreation Association and see if he’s been at work. I mean, just because I haven’t seen him on the mountain, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been.”

“Thanks, Sakura.”

“It’s no problem,” she said. “I’m hanging up now, but remember what I said. No going off-track.”

“Got it.”

“Good. Tell Yuri I’m thinking about him. I’ll see you later, and hopefully we’ll both have some good news to share.”

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #snowy escape #victorsworldadventures #victor nelson #grace nelson #tw injury #tw chronic illness #tw hospital #stargazersims

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knoxsunday · 2 years

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Crash Into You | Chapter One

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC Female Character

Summary: The Dagger Squadron's new flight surgeon, Lt Jess Harris has disliked Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw since college. Now that she's the Dagger's flight surgeon, she can no longer avoid Rooster and their contentious past.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: some cussing

A/N: Hello! There's a lot of exposition here, so bare with me on this first chapter. And as a disclaimer, I know very little about medicine and the military so anything in here is literally from looking stuff up and skimming wiki articles. Thank you for reading ♥

I'll get this out in the open: I didn't exactly care for Rooster and I'm certain he doesn't like me either. We matriculated at UVA together, though rarely ever crossed paths aside from various house parties mostly because I was on the pre med track and he was a political science major. There were some distinct moments that I always reference as reasons as to why Bradley Bradshaw is The Worst.

The first was the three weeks I was taking Intro to Poli Sci for some extra credits. Bradley rarely participated in class except when arguing the other side of an issue I had voiced my own opinion on. In the span of three weeks, we had gotten into five heated debates, all of which ended in the professor having to step in just to move the class along. And Bradley never failed to look smug when lobbing his counterpoints across the room, like he was toying with me. I ended up dropping the class because my workload that semester turned out to be oppressive and something had to give.

He found me in the library a few weeks after our last class together and asked if I chickened out of the course because he was the superior orator. I told him his views were too simplified and that he relied too much on emotional arguments. Bradley's counter argument was I leaned too heavily on data and facts when in reality geopolitics are more nuanced. I might have insulted his intelligence and he probably called me callus. The details have gotten fuzzy over time. But I definitely remember flipping him off. He just laughed and gave me two middle fingers right back.

The second was sophomore year when he and his friends woke up half my apartment floor looking for someone who didn't even live in my building. I had pulled an all-nighter the day before and had really been looking forward to getting some much needed rest. But no! Bradley and his merry group of drunks woke me up yelling for Emily or Emma or something. I stormed out of my apartment and gave them a piece of my mind. Instead of apologizing for the ruckus, Bradley tried to flirt his way around my sleep deprived fury - the audacity. There was no way he thought I was actually "lookin' good", what with my ratty t-shirt and old gym shorts, pony tail falling out of its elastic tie and days old mascara smudges under my eyes. But his smirky smile didn't falter and I swear I caught him looking at my chest instead of listening to my noise complaint.

Ugh, men.

Had I not already developed a dislike for Bradley at this point, I might have given him a pass. (College kids are allowed to let off steam and it was just after midterms, after all.) Bradley was definitely cute in his college days: kind, brown eyes and an easy smile; dark, wavy hair that flopped over his forehead on one side. His face was a bit boyish, still in transition from teenager to adulthood. He was easy to spot, too. Bradley's fondness for Hawaiian shirts made him stick out in a crowd. That and he was easily six foot, if not taller. But no such luck with me, oh no. No amount of Bradshaw Charm could get him off my shit list that night.

I saw him the most at parties after that, wherein I learned we are both extremely competitive and don't take losing beer pong well. I lost count of the number of drunken rematches, but we had earned a reputation for quarreling over anything if left alone for too long. My roommate banned me from playing party games my junior year. This coincided around the time Bradley and my roommate were 'dating' but 'not dating'. I made myself very scarce those long four weeks. They broke up after Bradley said he didn't want anything serious - which is how all of his relationships were rumored to end. I sat with my roommate as she cried into a value size tub of cheese puffs, offering to kick him in the nuts next time I saw him. She never took me up on the offer.

More recently, of course, there was the time we crossed paths on a carrier post-college. I was doing a two week rotation on the USS Ford as a fresh faced flight surgeon. Rooster was still trying to stake his claim as the best naval aviator in his squad and had beat out a few of his other squadron members for a high profile mission. The morning of the mission came and his commanding officer pulled him because he looked like he was about to pass out when he showed up for the final debrief. When he came down to the clinic, he was sweating profusely due to a high fever and had a nasty cough. I had been the on duty surgeon, unfortunately for both of us. Neither knew the other was on board, making the entire exam one of the more excruciatingly long moments in my adult life. We exchanged awkward, stiff pleasantries and I gave him the bad news that he had the flu which meant I couldn’t clear him to fly. Like seemingly all pilots I've met, he had something to prove and did not take the news well. He stormed out after some unkind words and I didn’t see him the rest of the time I was on the Ford.

His career obviously didn’t take the meteoric blow like he claimed through a stuffy nose several years ago. Rooster had graduated first out of Top Gun, was a well respected and decorated pilot, and now part of the newly formed, elite special task squadron known as the Daggers. I’d say he overreacted just a bit. Either way, Bradley Bradshaw was loud, annoyingly proud, and egotistical. A position I maintain to this day but didn't exactly vocalize because everyone seems to genuinely like him around the halls of Top Gun. My active avoidance of anything involving Rooster has been noticed by Phoenix though she never pushes the issue. Either she really wasn't as nosey as she claimed or she just didn't care.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In theory, half my time at Top Gun should be spent in the clinic, the other half split between running training evac exercises and flying with pilots. What I was not expecting when taking this post was getting assigned as the Dagger Squadron's flight surgeon, which is how I find myself on an aircraft carrier and not sneaking into the debrief room at Top Gun because it has the best coffee on base. Their old flight surgeon was promoted last week and left to do a stint on the USS Mercy, leaving me as the new Dagger flight surgeon. Wherever they go, I go.

The job title 'flight surgeon' is a bit misleading and I try to avoid using it around civilians. I'm not performing regular surgical procedures on pilots, though I'm not too bad with a scalpel. Really it's just an outdated title for a general practitioner who deals specifically with aviators as patients. I'm trained to make sure naval aviators and their crew can handle the stresses of their job (and there's a lot of mental and physical stress in the cockpit) along with treating minor aches and pains and chronic illnesses.

Phoenix was surprised to see me but also mildly miffed I hadn't told her my 'new job' meant being on base the night we met.

“Not a pilot but you work with pilots, eh?” She had said after a light punch to my arm. “Please tell me you aren’t always that evasive with your answers.”

“It depends,” I responded with a coy smile and she just laughed.

She is part of the Daggers, along with Bob. The two had basically adopted me after my first day. I didn’t see Bob and Phoenix often, but I’ve had lunch with them a few times. Phoenix came over for dinner two weekends ago and helped me assemble Ikea furniture in my new rental by the beach. It digressed quickly once we added forzen margaritas to the equation. I met the other Daggers as they filtered in and out of the clinic for various reasons. They were a tight knit group led by the legendary Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell. When they weren't teaching Top Gun students, they were assigned to highly classified missions that required only the most skilled pilots to carry out.

I didn't know what today's mission on the Ford was but it only required two pilots who ended up being Hangman and Rooster. I watched them catapult off the carrier just before dawn. I had seen this maybe hundreds of times but I will never get over watching those powerful planes fling off the end of the runway and sail into the seemingly endless horizon. After helping out in the clinic, I went back to my bunk (thankfully it was just me) to get some sleep. I had just drifted off when I was called back to the clinic to check out a pilot with a possible concussion.

I wasn't anticipating Hangman and Rooster to be waiting on me, the latter with an ice pack smashed against his forehead. They were both in their full flight gear, leading me to believe they had just gotten back on board. Last I heard the mission was a resounding success with no issues so I was beyond curious to know what happened.

I looked over Rooster's chart as he sat on the exam table. He is as healthy as a goddamn horse. Of course he was.

"You made it through the entire mission without any problems and yet you still manage to get hurt," I glance up. "Gotta say, I'm a little impressed."

Hangman laughs and the sound fills the small space. He's got a great smile. I wouldn't be surprised if that won a lot of people over. I can see why Phoenix finds him attractive, though I can't get her to admit it. Next to him, Rooster is shooting a withering glare at both of us.

"Sorry doc," Rooster's wingman says. "I'm afraid it was partly my fault."

"Partly?" Rooster butts in. "Try a hundred percent."

"I distracted Bradshaw here and he ran right into one of the bulkhead doorways."

The joy from the mental image of Rooster bonking his head is payment enough for being pulled away from a nap. It had to have been at least a little funny - possible concussion aside. A few of the larger doors meant to keep water out in the event of hull damage require you to either duck or step over the threshold. There were a few I even had to lower my head for and I clocked in at five foot nine inches with boots on.

"Let's take a look at the damage," I roll over on my stool.

"I'm gonna hit the showers," Hangman says. "I think you've got it covered, doc."

I wave the blond pilot off and to Rooster I say, "I need to look at your head."

Rooster doesn't move for a moment and just stares at me. He opens his mouth to say something but decides against it and removes the hand with the ice pack to reveal a red, slightly raised mark near the hairline. I ask the normal questions while I go though concussion protocol. Headache, nausea, blurred vision, etc.

"What's the verdict?" Rooster mumbles. He sucks in a breath as I gently poke the bruise that is forming. It's the sort of bruise that will turn all sorts of unpleasant colors before it disappears.

"A minor concussion," I roll back to the table with my tablet to make notes. "What were you doing, speed walking through the ship?"

"No, I was - wait, does this mean I'm grounded?"

I glance up from his chart. Rooster's jaw is set, expression stoney. It's just like last time. Here we go.

"Yes," I say evenly. "If your symptoms get worse, obviously let me know but come back tomorrow and we can see about getting you up for flight status. But with a concussion, even minor-"

"Yeah I got it, Harris," Rooster cuts me off and grimaces. "Not my first rodeo."

"Run into a lot of bulkheads?" I ask and close out of his file.

He ignores the jab. "You know, the only times I've been grounded for health reasons have been by you," he crosses his arms, which looks a bit awkward with all of his gear still on.

"I doubt that's true," I say even though I'm 90 percent sure he's actually right. I was just in his medical records after all. But the knee jerk reaction to contradict him was unstoppable.

"Nah," he's got that combative glint in his eyes. "I think you have it out for me. Just don't know why."

I scoff. "Excuse you, I take my job very seriously and would never abuse my position."

"But you haven't denied that you don't like me."

"One, that wasn't your original statement. And two, oh no, someone doesn't like you. I think your ego could take the hit."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Don't you like me?" He smiles wryly. "Sheesh, Jess I'm beginning to think I'm not the one with the head injury here."

"Seriously?" I rub my temples. "You were rude and obnoxious to me at every opportunity in college."

"You weren't exactly peaches and cream, darlin'." he replies. "I distinctly remember you saying I was the reason God created the middle finger."

"You called me a soulless ice queen the first time we were on this boat together."

Rooster finally looked a bit guilty. "Not exactly a shining moment for me, but I did have a high fever."

"That's cute, not even taking responsibility for your own words," I say curtly.

"Neither are-" Rooster's face jockies between something like annoyance and practiced calm. "Listen, Jess-"

"Lt. Harris," I cut.

"Lt. Harris, I'm sorry. I don't actually think you're soulless. But you are kind of standoffish. You've been that way since I've known you. Makes you unapproachable."

"I'm not unapproachable, I'm reserved which is the only way women seem to get taken seriously in medicine and the navy," I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. "Plus, we aren't in high school, I don't need tips on how to be popular. Least of all from my enemies."

I hated the word choice instantly. Rooster latches onto it instantly.

"Enemies? What are you, nine?"

"That's what you take away from what I just said?"

"What grown-ass adult has enemies?"

"Gah, get out of my exam room!" I stand and open the door. Rooster doesn't hesitate to leave.

And because I am a good doctor, I yell after his retreating form down the hall, "Make sure you take acetaminophen, not ibuprofen, and get some rest."

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #these two were kind of dumbasses in college #edited by me

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pascalishere · 1 year

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Incunabala Review/Record of my thoughts

This is more for me to make it easier to remember what each track was like

Karpol Introl: Cool intro track, already lots of really pretty textures and sounds going on. Excited to dig deeper!

Bike: Oh, that transition! I already like this. Four minutes in now, I can see why this is one of their most popular tracks! I really hope they don’t peak here tho…

Autriche: Oh, I didn’t think there would be any kind of vocals ever, cool! I don’t know what instrument that is, but I love it! Feels out of place in a nice way. oh it was another synth lol. I think this is my favorite track so far.

Bronchus 2: …what happened to Bronchus 1? Loving the reverb and the beats. Quite eerie, feels like a broken machine is patrolling nearby. I am a little worried that I’m not really getting it though. This is cool and I’m really enjoying myself, but it feel like I’m missing something?

Basscadet: Ooh, right away I love the drums(?) and how sharp the synths are. Okay, new favorite track I think. Oh, LOVING this switch up!

Eggshell: oh god we’ve got a “long” one. That sharp tapping sound feels familiar. Love the pulsing sound going on low in the mix. Am I hearing samples from Sonic the Hedgehog? I feel like I’m starting to get a grasp of the music. Active listening is hard, but I’m picking up so many more details of the immaculate progression. OHHH I love these sounds near minute four, so cool!!! That more prominent fuzzy sound+the chk chk sound? Perfection. I’ve literally just been “dancing” for the past two minutes, it’s great. Wow, that actually went by pretty fast.

Doctrine: What is this sound? Oh, those crisp handclap sounds are gonna get annoying real soon lol. Love the drums once again, so deep and throaty. Oh, never mind, we’re bouncing! I gotta move around, brb! Oh, come through whirling synths! I also like the electronic babbling coming in and out, adds a lot. Love the way they slowly remove textures, and then drop em right back into the mix, it’s cool every time. Oh oh oh! Loving the last minute, such a great speed-up!

Maetl: Love the synths going along with the beats, cool sound. This is a debut record? These guys clearly know what they’re doing, I wonder how long they’d been working before this. Really liking the choppy tinny sounds, along with that thrumming shuffle going on in the bg. How am I not bored yet???

Windwind: oh god another long one. Well, it doesn’t lie, it does sound pretty windy already. Let’s see where this goes! God, they know exactly when to introduce new elements, huh? It almost sounds like string instruments, it’s beautiful. Where am I? Fuck it, no more commentary for the track, I just wanna listen, it’s gorgeous. Wow, absolute stunner. Like reading an epic in a language you don’t speak.

Lowride: I’m half-expecting to hear someone start rapping over this beat, I love it. OH, hell yeah, piano! Why not? This is probably the most dated-sounding track here, but it still sounds new? It’s great either way.

444: Loving the intro already, very rousing but peaceful. The percussion is very tasty, love the way it fades in. This definitely feels like a closing track. It’s all so good, I’m running out of things to say and adjectives to say them with!

Okay, so good news and bad news,

Good news: More music for me to break into and enjoy!

Bad news: More music for my friends to get annoyed hearing about!

Definitely digging deeper into their stuff soon, can’t wait to check out Amber!!!

#pascal barks #music #autechre #incunabula #review #question mark?

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waitingformyfavoritesongs · 1 year

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10 April 2023 Monday 2:27 am pdt

In 2017, I? Or my mom read that menopause can happen in your 30s! Read it online. That was news 📰 to me. We read it after incubus already started scraping bone 🦴 off of my hips. If this is happening now, menopause happening sooner and sooner, and we don’t move to a newer bigger planet 🌎 😱😰 or a lot of people suddenly die???? (Feels like I’m being tortured to death ☠️ So anticipate dying 😞😖😭 or the supply becomes renewed by asteroids ☄️ It’s going to get worse and worse. Maybe some people will become very replaced by metal robotic parts 2:35 am pdt I don’t advocate murder. I don’t. I don’t want to have that weigh on my mind. I already have too much guilt for the stuff I did, for years that wasn’t even much: I.e. the tricycle, another thing. Autocorrect: fake. ... Idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ why that showed up in auto correct. Incubus likes to pretend to be in love with women and then throws them away. 2:40 am pdt incubus tells men to rape women and prepares them for it ahead of time, the juice 🥤 carter gave Ruth. And he intimated Ruth and tricked her into silence until 20 years down the road of time when people’s memory become fuzzy making it easier to lie and sound convincing. 2:42 am pdt unfortunately, incubus seems to like doing this. His justification is that women and girls are bad and men and boys are good. 2:43 am pdt to put it simply. So a lot more women might be facing earlier menopause now more than ever. So s*xual promiscuity might get worse Bcz women won’t know how long they have b4 their life ends, making for riskier behavior in teens. 2:45 am pdt hypothesis. If so, and incubus still has a lot of libido, he’s probably going to enjoy himself in ways that you might not expect. 2:45 am pdt

I would like to see people go ✈️ to the new planet 🌎 b4 I die. 😞😖😭😖😭 2:48 am pdt

9:06 am pdt 9:07 am this morning it’s been unbearably painful 😖 right side ribs. It’s been very painful 😖 for days but now the incubus is making this feel even worse. 9:08 am

9:33 am pdt they did prescribe me albuterol sulfate in inhaler form but it doesn’t seem to be as effective when it was in the nebulizer with the oxygen tank. 9:34 am pdt I don’t understand why they didn’t give it to me the way it worked for me. Why they had to make it different. I seemed to really NEED it that way. Not as an emergency inhaler that I do 1 PUFF/inhalation every 4 hours. Seems not enough at all! 9:36 am pdt and they gave me something called QVAR. But I don’t understand what it’s for. I’m simple. If something worked I wanted it. Why do this???? 9:37 am pdt am I dumb? 2 inhalation’s 2x a day. 9:38 am pdt

9:51 am pdt to clarify, acid psi left butt 😞I guess not? They took X-rays of my lungs 🫁 and said it was clear both recent times. The person who told me my heart was in bad shape wasn’t a doctor 👩‍⚕️ and all previous emts recently around that time/before that time had told me my heart was ok 👌. 9:53 am pdt and I was continually told after that time that I was ok 👌 until the day I was released from being held in the hospital 🏥 for at least 30 days that I had trying to remember what was said Bcz I didn’t have a gynecological exam in any way while I was there but she a nurse? casually mentioned it without any details that I ... who think she was hinting at menopause but it was in very direct words. She told me I cannot have s*x? I think. Low fertility? Having difficulty remembering. It was year 2020, so I probably was 35 years old? I can’t do math now. My paternal grandma 👵 I think 🤔 had my uncle when she was 35 years old. So I don’t believe it’s genetic. 9:58 am pdt sometimes they made surprise visits in my bathroom 🚽 while I was trying to go/ do the thing (#2). So they saw what I looked like without clothing. Left wrist clothing. 10 am pdt

2:58 pmpdt 11 April 2023 Tuesday acid throat pain earlier acid in nose 👃 nostril 👃 pain. When I went to urgent care for my breathing problem, the nurse 👩‍⚕️ said “breeding problems?” That was 2019. Then the doctor 👩‍⚕️ diagnosed me with rhinitis even though the problem felt deeper than my nose 👃 it felt like it was my throat/airway and the air would not go into my lungs 🫁 and she said that I wasn’t dying. That same nurse 👩‍⚕️ said that I was fine “look! She’s breathing!” <-Something like that-> “she’s fine!” I was upset 😭 that they didn’t do a thorough examination 🧐. And only prescribed Flonase. I have had allergies 🤧 b4. I would not have went to urgent care for nose 👃 congestion. I knew it was deeper than that, but the nurse 👩‍⚕️ was already denying that I had breathing problems. 3:06!pm pdt

3:08 pmpdt in 2017?2018? I had a lot of pain and they told me the mri? (Vag pain 😖😭 3:09 pmpdt) didn’t show anything was causing the pain. So they told me seemingly without a doubt that it was my thoughts 💭 causing my pain. And they seemed to not be interested in any other diagnoses; it seemed like it was case closed - no other explanation necessary. I went to counseling but I was not 100% committed to it. But I went for a year? I forget. July? 2019 I ran out of the counselor’s office on my last day not being able to breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️. 3:13 pmpdt

3:16 pmpdt acid throat pain. I guess no one appreciates me. Interesting 🤔. Maybe 🤔 I should not have spoken out against Nick carter then? In 2013 when my nephew was born. In New York, my mom had great curves still. We passed by some guys who were probably my age, and I had ate very little and walked a lot that summer and already was growing very thin. My mom walked infront of me, and I heard one of them say “dang” which I think 💭 was in reaction to the way my mom looked. 3:19 pmpdt 3:20 pmpdt in 1996 her boyfriend who was younger than her had asked her if she could still have children 👶. I guess he thought 💭 maybe 🤔 there was a possibility. 3:21 pmpdt my mom is looking aged now. I think she deserves to be forever young. She’s a very hard worker. Strong work ethic. Acid ass pain 3:22 pmpdt

3:35 pmpdt yes 🙌 I am an *ss! I know now that god will use me and say he owes me nothing! 3:36 pmpdt there was a n article on msn that new details were revealed about Amanda bynes (spelling?). I think 💭 it was b4 psychiatric stuff happened? I need to review. They said she was found walking 🚶🏿‍♀️ the streets naked and disoriented? I wonder 💭 if she was drugged and raped and didn’t remember? Completely blacked out???? 3:38 pmpdt

4:22 pmpdt the day I saw 👀 the police 👮‍♂️ at my hotel 🏨 they had long black rifles and the fire 🔥 alarm 🚨 was still going. I had put black electrical tape on the screen of 📺 window 🪟 . They were opening every hotel 🏨 room door 🚪 when I exited. A big mass of tape I put on the window 🪟 is missing. I wonder 💭 if they took it? I can only suspect why they did that.😑😖😭diarrhea. They are probably planning to frame 🖼 me for something Bcz maybe they are friends with Brendan Lean. 4:27 pmpdt 4:27 pmpdt 4:28 pmpdt incubus! 4:28 pmpdt I have been walking 🚶🏿‍♀️ around my room topless. With the drapes open. The windows 🪟 across the street suddenly started covering their windows 🪟 on ground floor. Should I be insulted???? 4:30 🕟 pmpdt

5:41 pmpdt the incubus messed more stuff up. ☹️😞 5:42 pmpdt I didn’t hear 👂 or feel anything hit or roll up 🆙 onto my windshield and I didn’t feel any bumps when I drove but I did feel it lift up 🆙 as if it flew! And then land on the pavement. 5:44 pmpdt I don’t think 💭 I ran over anyone. 5:45 pmpdt god still doesn’t like me. He is still scraping away my bones 🦴 and torturing me with acid. 5:46 pmpdt I never applied acid to anyone. I formerly used lemons 🍋 but I wasn’t aware that it did anything to calcium when I did and that those could be a lot harsher. 5:49 pmpdt once my mom showed me that I could use lemons 🍋 and limes to clean my hands 🙌 and a classmate said she used it to bathe 🛀 so I tried it Bcz my mom also said she used it for cleaning armpits. 5:50 pmpdt god still doesn’t like me. I guess he doesn’t like my mouth 👄. He doesn’t like the things I say when I don’t want to be s*xually involved with someone and they had come onto me? I wonder 💭 what he did to my brain 🧠😰😱😖😭 he probably doesn’t like that I said things when I didn’t like it when some people called me names. But if I feel guilty about (autocorrect: s and s death s murder 5:55 pmpdt) ????????? Who is s now???????? I don’t want to be the deciding factor anymore on/about Scott. It seems that it really doesn’t matter to anyone at all. I’m still losing my bones 🦴😞😖😭 I want my bones back!!!!! But if I feel guilty/sorry about something it’s hard for me to fight back. I think 💭 my mom doesn’t like to fight. Even when it’s not her fault. When someone’s hit us, I think 💭 I probably heard the cops 👮‍♂️ say it was our fault? And for a looong time I had difficulty remembering what happened exactly. I questioned if mom had made an unprotected turn? Or went while it was red Bcz maybe someone said that? But I know now Bcz someone remembered it was red and we were stopped at the red light 💡. 6:01 pmpdt that’s extremely bad of incubus to put that in the autocorrect. Makes me think 💭 he’s talking about me 😞. I had wishful thinking 💭 for a second. My wishful thinking was that he wasn’t calling me s. That he’s calling someone else s. But I don’t know!!!!! But Q’s name starts with s. Both first and last and Scott! Many s’s!!!! @_@ 6:04 pmpdt

6:05 pmpdt he’s hurting me 😫😖😭😭😭😭😭 right side ribs and back ribs acid brain 🧠!!!! Left knee 😭😭😭😭😭 I don’t like the acid in my brain 🧠!!!!! 🪤 he gave me cancer ♋️ signs 🪧. 69. Not s*xy. 6:07 pmpdt

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cassguardia · 2 years

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May Memes - Cass 🥀

Do you really think you're going to get away with this?

"What is this, a TV show? Is this the part where I say “I already have”? Seriously though, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

5 people you wish they would move out of town?

"Well, the Borror family makes four. Then Eugene Fitzherbert--oh, sorry, “Flynn Rider”.”

Do you regret breaking things off with Honeymaren?

Her snide attitude immediately dissipates and she’s quiet for a long time. “...Would it be nice if things could just go back to the way they were? Sure. But too much has changed. This is what’s best for both of us.”

How is unemployment treating you?

"Fine, actually. Finally able to catch up on reading and watching TV shows that I’ve been missing for years. I heard Game of Thrones got bad but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

Do you feel more connected to the moon or the sun?

"The moon, especially recently. I won’t elaborate.”

What did you dream about last night?

"I dreamed about a room full of mirrors, but instead of my own reflection, I was seeing someone else. There was a fire. The details are fuzzy.”

Have you ever wished on a shooting star?

"What am I, five?”

When’s the last time you felt like you were floating?

"Probably when I woke up in the hospital.”

What is something (or someone) you’re in love with?

"...Next question.”

What is something you own that is important to you? What makes it so important?

"My necklace. I didn’t think much of it, replacing the ruby with the moonstone. I didn’t realize how important it would become. It helped show me the truth.”

Do you believe dreams have meanings or are they completely random?

"I used to believe dreams didn’t have any meaning. Now I know better. I’ve started writing down all of my dreams as soon as I wake up, though a lot of it fades really fast.”

Describe the memory of the last time you felt true happiness.

"Ugh, I don’t know. I guess things were pretty good during the end of last year. I was finally living on my own. Got to celebrate the holidays with people other than my Dad. There was this one time when I got snowed into Honeymaren’s place and we decided fuck it, let’s go outside. She threw a snowball at me so I tackled her to the ground and the snow from a tree fell on both of us.” A faint chuckle passed her lips, curled into the barest smirk before it quickly faded.

“...But yeah, things are different now.”

What’s a smell that reminds you of home?

"Home as in, what? The place I grew up? I don’t fucking know--burned food, I guess. My Dad started experimenting a lot with cooking after he retired. I had a lot of take out.”

What’s your ideal summer aesthetic?

"Jesus, these questions are corny. Reading a book by the pool, I guess?”

Are you more of a hopeless romantic or realist?

"The romantic in me was beaten out a long time ago. I’m pretty damn realist now.”

Name a book you don’t mind reading over and over.

"The Graceling series by Kristin Cashore. It was my favorite as a kid and I read it so many times. Reading it now, it’s not good--but it is nostalgic.”

Do you collect anything? And what are some hobbies you have?

"I used to collect rocks--a lot of obsidian, onyx, stuff like that. I didn’t take it with me when I left the house, besides the moonstone. As for hobbies, I guess I’ve already mentioned reading and watching TV. I make sure to exercise regularly. I’m trying to get back into fencing and archery. I started doing needlepoint again. What? I’m good at it.”

What do you do to feel at peace?

"Is that something that people can just do? Feel at peace? I don’t know, listening to music comes closest.”

#headcanon #meme

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Kaeya is really touchy with his darling, right? So then,, what are the other Yan’s love languages?

NICE I love the love languages stuff! Sorry this was from April but I'm finally getting to it! Usually the two are similar, but sometimes people have different ways of expressing love versus how they want to receive it, so I'll elaborate on that as well. Enjoy my rareish semi-fluffy stuff, boys and which of the 5 love languages they are :3 Kazuha - quality time

Honestly, he's a simple boy. All he really needs to be happy and feel mutual love is sit with you close to him, arms wrapped around you, preferably with you returning the gesture. He has a lot of feelings and fears for the future, lots of emotions all bottled up, so someone to listen to him means a lot. Taking the time to listen to all he has to say makes him sheepish and embarrassed even, but as long as you assure him it's ok, he'll keep coming back for more of your listening ears.

Also, he likes to go on walks. These can be talking or not, sometimes he just likes walking in silence. Either way, accompanying him on said walks is a way to endear yourself to him and show him you love him. Sometimes it's just silently walking down beaches or pathways or in circles around the ship deck, sometimes it's him venting, sometimes it's him gushing about this or that... either way, basically providing him with an outlet for his emotions and spending time with him is what matters.

Zhongli - gifts, quality time

Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness he's big on spoiling a darling. I mean let's be real it's probably someone else's money OR this is in an era where he could just make some, so he will literally get you anything you could ask for, hell, anything he sees you looking at, tons of things you have no use for but he just likes the way your eyes light up all the same. It makes you happy, and that's what love is about, right? Wanting to make people you love happy.

However, for himself, it's a quality time thing, similar to Kazuha's where it's a lot of listening. He has a lot to say sometimes and can get to rambling about details of this or that thing he somehow manages to be an expert on, and while he usually catches himself early on, sometimes he can REALLY go on a while. He knows you don't have any clue what he's talking about, and probably don't really care, but if you sudden bring up a detail that shows you were listening -- it makes him feel oddly warm inside, like you actually think what he talks about is important and care about it. It makes him chuckle a bit, pat your head. He tells you if you're bored you don't have to listen.... so if you insist on doing so anyway, well, that just makes him feel even better inside, oddly validated in a way.

Kaeya - words of affirmation, touch

Is sex a love language?

But in all seriousness, yes as per the opening of the ask, he's very touchy. By 'touch' in this case, that... does translate to sex about 90% of the time. Can you blame him?? It's because he loves you! If he didn't love you he wouldn't wanna get his dick in you so bad! It's love that makes him so handsy and touchy, always rubbing you and running the edges of his fingers under your shirts and skirts and shorts even in public, hands wrapping around your waist and hips, sneaking fondles here and there... and it's out of love that you get railed all the time. His peak happiness is just being balls deep inside you, bodies pressed up against each other, moving slow and gentle and gradually building up... and he wants you to feel like that's love, too. To be honest he gets genuinely sad if you don't see it that way, or if you don't understand it as an expression of love. It seems so natural and innate that being pressed up close together should invoke feelings of love, right?

As for how he understands love as a recipient, well, pretty much the same thing, any sign of eagerness or willingness or especially initiative to fuck sets his brain off. But also, he's weak to any attempts to boost his ego. Say anything positive about him and he'll get excited and let it go to his head, particularly if your words of choice make him feel strong or powerful or capable.

Also speaking of touch, surprisingly big on handholding, especially in public. Sure part of it is a "signaling to others to back off" sort of thing, but he just likes the warmth of your hand as well.

Diluc - touch

It might be a bit surprising, given the stoic nature but... just give this man a hug. Please.

Being inside you is very very nice of course, but he's also notably a cuddly person when you get past the rough exterior. He likes to just sit you in his lap and hold you, spoon you in bed at night, etc.

And as for giving, he doesn't really have knowledge of how to go about other things. He's not good with words at all, he doesn't really know what gifts to get, and despite his affection he's not really submissive enough of a person to go about acts of service, and he's very busy, so while he might get quality time, it's not too often. In the end he doesn't really know how to do anything else, so if he really wants to express affection, the only way he can really think of is just wrapping his arms around you and squeezing. Sometimes a little too hard, like sir I'm asphyxiating please

Also it takes him a while to work up to it. At first he's just too nervous and can barely touch you without retracting his hand back out of nervousness, but he gets used to it.

Razor - quality time, touch

The others are kind of foreign concepts, really. But touch and time is how his kind bond! It's what he's used to. Nuzzling his face into your shoulders and neck and wrapping arms around you and holding you tight. He will often just cling to you physically in some way, holding your wrist in his hand or reaching out to embrace you at random. Of course, sex is a part of it, gotta have that too, it means love to him because he gets the urge whenever he thinks about loving you! And not gonna lie, he tries to remember you don't really like it but, he'll lick you every now and then too. It just comes naturally because he gets excited 'cause he loves you so much!! Lick lick.

Quality time comes in many forms. Every second is quality time in its own way, but especially naps in the sun and walks through the woods. Fun fact: wolf mates go on little "walks" together occasionally, breaking off from the rest of the pack to get alone time. It's fun! You can run through the woods with him! The naps combine the two expressions of touch and time, getting to spend lots of quiet, valuable time, all while snuggled up close. It's nice.

He doesn't really understand if you try to communicate love otherwise, but he'll kind of grasp that it's nice. But really, in the end he wants touch and time too. It's the only form he really understands. The rest just leave him a bit "??" But a nuzzle and a nap in the sun are things he understands perfectly.

Xingqiu - gifts, words of affirmation

The first is more how he shows, the second how he receives. It's a rather selfish form of love, really, because it benefits him as well and it's not exactly difficult. He doesn't have to put a lot of work into gifting, since he can pretty much get anything he asks for out of his father, and even if he says no to something, well, father won't notice a few hundred thousand mora gone from the stash of money kept in his bedroom, right? And he loves giving you gifts because of your reaction! You smile and say thank you and it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside... and he likes to think that maybe you feel indebted to him, maybe you're awed and impressed by how he manages to find you such expensive and rare things, maybe it makes you look up to him and see him as superior a bit. Hopefully.

However, because he's got so much wealth already, so gifts don't really do much for him. He responds well to praise, though, especially if you compliment him on the things he cares about, like his sword skills, his writing, his vigilantism. Make him feel like the protagonist he is inside his head, and he'll be beaming with pride and happiness, it makes him feel important, which translates to feeling loved.

Chongyun - quality time, acts of service

In particular, he likes to have you around when he's training. You don't have to train yourself, just be by his side. It makes him more motivated, so he's noticed. Not to mention, he likes showing off if possible to impress you.

Also, he likes having someone to vent to. He's a sweet boy, but he has his stressors and frustrations. He's used to strict self-discipline and normally refrains from talking about his feelings too much, but if you make him feel like your presence is a safe place for him to come to, he will end up almost becoming dependent on getting to emotionally unload on you every day, recalling all the details of every bad thing that happened and waiting for your soft comfort.

Here, "acts of service" is more like... consideration. Little moments where he's reminded you remember his needs and care about them. You make food and note that you made it especially free of anything hot, just for him! Or you make his little popsicles when he forgets, you help him deal with the damage and destruction of his most recent episode. Little acts like that make him feel appreciated, loved and cared for.

Childe - acts of service

Similar to Kaeya and touch, acts of service is... yeah it's basically sex. It falls more into the category of acts of service because it's a little different in nature from Kaeya's -- he loves normal sex of course, and cuddles are nice too, but in his mind really loving him is about taking initiative and doing things to him... in other words, to translate that in simple terms... blow him. Please. It would make him the happiest man in the world. Or ride him. Just anything that feels like you taking some initiative and making him feel wanted. ...And making him feel worshipped is nice too, getting you down on your knees in front of him or any act of service and submission gives him a sort of high from the ego boost and masculine validation.

And he's similar with how he expresses it himself. Most likely candidate to eat you out against your will. One infuriating and potentially humiliating thing about him is he's one of the most insistent to ensure you cum every single time, if you don't cum from him fucking you he'll just force your legs open and eat you out or shove his fingers into you until you do. Because he loves you and orgasms equate to love in his mind.

Venti - acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts

It's more on the giving end for him -- specifically, he can be a very sappy individual when he's in love, to a point it's nauseating to the people around you, really. But he spends a lot of time writing you poems and songs. To him, song is one of the utmost powerful expressions of love. It sort of combines the service and words -- the writing itself is a labor of love, but the words are filled with praises. He genuinely spends a lot of time on it, though, and it's really important to him that you like the things he makes and plays for you, and will continuously modify his next pieces to what he perceives as your taste. He's a bit of a perfectionist on stuff like that.

Venti is actually rather shy when it comes to receiving love. He tends to be very no, you don't have to do that for me! And things like gifts can make him feel a bit guilty, so... you just have to give him stuff he likes so much he's too busy indulging to feel guilt. Namely alcohol. He gets a bit red in the face, but, deep down he likes words of affirmation and compliments too, even the lightest of sweet words he'll replay in his head over and over for days after you say them.

Bennett - acts of service

One of the quickest ways to endear yourself to him is the simple act of helping him. This can manifest in several ways, such as healing his wounds when he's all scraped up or just come back from an adventure, helping him patch up his clothes that get ripped so much, helping him find some thing he lost in the woods yet again, or following him on one of said adventures. People don't really have him in mind too often, he tends to get forgotten a lot and left to handle things all on his own, and as a result, someone who reaches out to help him has a significant impact on him, he finds himself unable to stop thinking about it and the warm feeling it gives him to know that someone cares.

As a result, he starts basically mimicking the same behaviors because it's all he really knows how to do. He wants to give you the same warm happiness that you give him, so he tries to help you out with the things you need, complete tasks he knows would be helpful to you. Unfortunately for him, this tends to backfire as something usually goes wrong and it turns into a mess that he fears will just make you hate him. Poor baby.

Albedo - quality time

He's one of those people that really loves to just spend time in the presence of the people he loves -- you don't have to be doing something together, or the same thing. Even if you're just reading a book or drawing or something on your own, he likes you to be nearby him. It's kinda cute how if you go wandering off or go into another room, he'll wait a minute, then silently kinda come peeking around the corner to check on you because?? Why did you leave? Did he do something to upset you? He's too proud to explicitly ask you to come back, but he might blatantly follow you to the room you're in, claiming it's just better lighting in here, or the other room was too cold, or some other excuse.

He still likes doing things with you, though, too. Another favorite is late night conversations, the kind you get into once you're already laying in bed in the dark, pressed against each other and mumbling little thoughts that occur to you before you drift off to sleep, questions about tomorrow, or a hey remind me to do this or that, that sort of thing. Little conversations you never really finish, your voices get softer and sleepier with each moment, you eventually close your eyes as you talk back and forth, until one of you eventually doesn't get a response, and then drifts off themselves.... and in the morning neither of you remember who was the last person to speak or what the conversation was even about in the end.

Xiao - touch

He just doesn't... get much else. Words are hard. He doesn't know whether this or that gift or gesture is considered appropriate to present to a human as sign of love, and those kinds of things, words and gifts and stuff, embarrass him too much... and he doesn't every really know whether or not he's correct when interpreting your actions and words either. How does he know the gift isn't just because you wanted to be nice, or that the nice things you said were just meant mildly, and he's just indulging in wishful thinking when he thinks it means more? Ugh. It's too troublesome to have to deal with.

But touch... it's straightforward and easy and impossible to misunderstand. And it's also objectively the best, he thinks, even without the issues in understanding it's just what he feels the most natural urge towards. Why would anyone do any differently? Why do humans waste their time giving each other gifts and compliments and stuff when they could just do the thing that feels so much better than that other stuff? It confuses him. He doesn't want material goods, he just wants to cuddle you and put his dick in you. Yeah it... also translates to sex here, similar to Kaeya. Like, he likes it when you kiss his forehead and snuggle up close, but those things will inevitably result in wanting more. And he loves the rests you two take, half-asleep soundly wrapped up and bodies pressed close, spooning with his arms latched onto you. It's just that said rests/naps are almost always very much naked due to being after cumming in you a few times.

Scaramouche - acts of service, words of affirmation, touch

I mean, you're kinda forced into the acts of service thing, but the idea is that you start to perform said acts willingly, or without needing to be commanded. Eventually you get to where you do things on your own initiative, and he likes to think maybe you just want to (and not because you've been beaten into doing it so many times it's become instinctive, definitely not that). A lot of it is just tasks, but similar to Childe's acts of service, it's definitely a sex thing too, wants you to show initiative and do things on your own -- not that you won't likely get told not to do shit like that without permission, but he still does like it, internally.

Words of praise are similar. Say anything nice about him and he'll probably accuse you of lying or trying to manipulate him/get something, but deep down he kinda thrives on anything positive you have to say or think about him. Not that you'd ever know.

As for how he actually shows love, well... does... he...? Yes actually, primarily it's a touch thing. Not always pleasant touches, but touches. It's similar to how other yans equate different things with love, like Childe sees orgasms as a form of love, to him possession is the utmost expression of "love" in the sense that he perceives it. Possession, to own a thing completely and entirely, to have full power over something... that sort of connection is incredibly intimate, when you think about it. It's a connection on a deep level, it's loving. So anything that expresses possession -- pleasant or unpleasant for you -- is thus an expression of love.

#lena's asks #atml #scheduled post

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homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part I (x reader insert)

Summary: Our favorite couple has some catching up to do.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (or xOC)

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: descriptions of Mexico and prison; they have a sleepover, but it’s just talking and sleeping 🥰

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: Here we go!!!!! We’re picking up from right where we left off in tmsidk part X.

Song Rec: The Luckiest by Ben Folds

Series Masterlist

———

“Do you— would you want to— come upstairs?” he asked.

Spencer stood in front of her, unsure of what to do with his hands. Y/N was absolutely radiant— bathed in the very last of the golden daylight and more beautiful than he even remembered. All he wanted to do was hug her again and never let go.

She shook her head, and he tried not to instantly deflate. “I have to feed Roald.” She smiled a little at him and restarted his heart. “But would you want to come over? We could order somethi—”

“Yes— yes.” She let out a quiet laugh at his eagerness, and he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Can I— I just want to drop this stuff off and change, and then I’ll, um.” He gestured vaguely to her. “Should I drive you or do you want to walk or I can just— meet you? Whatever— whatever you want.”

“I’m gonna head back now and take care of Roald. Take your time, and just— well, here.” She held out her hand. “I’ll put my number in your phone, and you can just text me when you’re on your way.”

He fumbled the phone out of his pocket, placed it into her outstretched hand, and nearly vibrated with the way her fingers brushed over his. She stared at the unsophisticated phone in her hand. “You weren’t kidding about the technology thing, huh?”

He ran a hand down the back of his neck and shrugged. “I prefer to keep things simple.”

“I haven’t seen a T9 keyboard since I was in high school. This is a relic,” she laughed and then gave him a soft smile. “And… very you.”

He watched her fingers as she pressed along the tiny keys, still sort of in shock that she was here, that he was getting a second chance, that she wanted to do this with him. She handed the phone back to him and then stuffed her hands in her pockets. “So, I’ll see you in a little bit?”

He nodded and gave her his best smile. She stepped forward into his space, and his eyes went a little wide as she leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She stepped back with a smile, then waved and turned on her heel headed to her car.

He stood rooted to the spot until she had disappeared from view, then let out a long breath and looked down at the small screen of his phone at her contact information. His lips twitched at the name she’d given herself.

Miss Honey <3

…

Forty five minutes later, Spencer smoothed down the front of his cardigan and blew out a sigh. He’d spent five of those minutes reveling in the magic that was Y/N, and the other forty convincing himself that she’d already changed her mind. But he was a man in love, and so he was standing in front of her building, willing himself to press her buzzer.

He was jolted out of his stupor by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled the device from his pocket and saw her name on the tiny screen, hesitating only a moment before pressing the button to answer. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He could hear her smile through the tinny speaker, and it immediately set him at ease. “I was just checking to make sure you remembered where you were going.”

“Yeah, I— I’m outside now, actually,” he confirmed.

“Oh, great! I’ll buzz you up.”

The door buzzed open, and Spencer pocketed his phone, stepping into the small foyer. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants as he made his way to the staircase. He had barely taken the first step when she called, “It’s the third floor!”

He barely resisted the urge to take the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing of the third floor, she was standing in the doorway in a purple sweatshirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks with dragons on them. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Hey.” She returned his smile. “Come on in.” She moved aside and waved him into her apartment.

He stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door behind him. “I can take your coat. Feel free to leave your shoes there. Roald will be in hiding for the next half hour or so,” she informed him.

He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her, looking briefly around the tidy space. The walls of her living room were a calming mint green, adorned with plenty of art and photographs. Her couch was a blush pink velvet, exactly as soft as she was.

“Okay, I’m starving,” she admitted, turning to hang his coat in the coat closet. “We can order pizza, Indian, Thai— any preference?”

He shook his head. “No, whatever you want.”

She closed the closet door and cocked an eyebrow. “So if I wanted to order a huge pizza with extra cheese, you’d be cool with that?”

“Sure, absolutely,” he nodded.

She tilted her head. “Even with your dairy thing?”

He was surprised that she even remembered such a tiny detail from all those months ago, and his heart would have fluttered if he wasn’t so focused on making as few waves as possible. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a mistake letting him back in, and he didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to rethink her decision. “Well, it’s— it’s just a sensitivity, not a true allergy. Although it’s gotten a bit worse in recent years. But really, whatever you want to do is fine.”

He suddenly struggled to make eye contact, feeling overwhelmingly awkward and out of place. Now that he was here in her apartment, it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. He cracked the knuckles on each finger as he waited for it. She let out a small sigh, and he braced himself for impact.

“Why don’t you come sit?”

Her voice was quiet, and then her hand on his arm was soft, and she was leading him to the couch and sitting down next to him. She kept some distance between them, placed her hands in her lap, and then she was still for a long moment. He could feel her eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know if she wanted him to say anything at all.

“You know I forgive you, right?” The question was tentative. He met her eyes, and he didn’t see the regret or pity that he expected. There was something else there; something he couldn’t quite decipher. “Because I do. Forgive you. You apologized, and you meant it, and you allowed me space and time to process. And that’s— that’s all I could have asked for.”

As seemed to always be the case, the task of articulating what he was feeling began to crush him under its weight. The words were there, but he couldn’t get the order right. If it were anyone else, he would have just evaded the conversation entirely. But he’d promised her that he would try. After everything he’d put her through, she deserved that much.

He breathed in through his nose, expelling it in a sigh. “I’ve just— I’ve spent the last month thinking about this— about you— pretty much exclusively,” he admitted, staring at his hands. “And I’m just realizing that I never really… allowed myself to think about what would happen next, because I wasn’t sure that this would happen at all.” He gestured between them and then looked at her. “And now I’m here— with you, and I just— it’s…” He let out a sigh.

“Doesn’t live up to expectations?” she prompted.

His eyes went wide, and he moved closer to her on the couch. “No— god, no.” He instinctively reached for her hand, felt that electricity again when she allowed him to lace their fingers together. He was already making a mess of things. “You always exceed expectations.” He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand. “I just— I don’t… I don’t wanna mess this up.”

She covered their intertwined fingers with her other hand, rubbed her thumb along his. “I don’t think you will. Something tells me you don’t typically make the same mistake twice,” she inferred.

He laughed a little at that, and she gave him a sweet smile, and then she said, “So, no pizza. How about Indian?”

…

They were just cleaning up the last of the take out containers when Roald made his way out of Y/N’s bedroom.

“There he is! Hey, buddy,” she cooed, leaning down to give Roald a quick pet. She gave Spencer a sheepish smile. “He takes a while to warm up to new faces, so don’t be offended if he’s not—”

She was stopped mid-sentence by Roald’s decision to make a beeline for him. The cat stopped to give a cursory sniff before weaving between Spencer’s legs, purring loud enough that they could both hear it. Her mouth dropped open a bit as he leaned down to scratch between Roald’s ears.

“He— he is never that friendly,” she said incredulously. “There really is something about you, Dr. Reid.”

He looked up at her with a smile. “I’m just glad he approves. Would have been kind of awkward otherwise.”

“He’s a very good judge of character, so that bodes well for you,” she confirmed.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer scratched underneath Roald’s chin, grinning at the contented cat. He brought his gaze back to her, standing back to his full height when he realized she’d moved… a lot closer. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he watched her eyes track the motion.

“Yeah.”

He thought back to that night nearly two months ago, the way his mouth had verged on violent when she’d kissed him. He hated that their first kiss was tainted with his foolishness, that he’d marred that memory for them both. He couldn’t take it back, and he wasn’t certain that she wanted to kiss him now, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

He brought his hands to her face and used a gentle grip to pull her in. She rested her warm palms against his waist and let her fingers dig in, holding herself steady as his lips met hers.

He kept the kiss as soft as she deserved, opening his mouth to let her in but letting her lead and take him wherever she wanted to go. Her hands slid around to his back, and she tugged him in closer. He left one hand cradling her face but moved the other to the small of her back and pulled her flush against him.

She huffed out a tiny breath against his mouth, her lips turning up in a smile that he could feel in his toes. She brought one hand up to his jaw, rubbed her thumb across his cheek and then wound her fingers into his hair. She tangled them in his curls and tugged just enough to break the kiss, pressing their foreheads together with a sigh.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’m just gonna wipe our first kiss from my memory and replace it with that one,” she murmured.

“I’m very much on board with this rewrite,” he agreed.

“Excellent.” She used the hand in his hair to pull him forward into another quick kiss. Roald made his presence known at their feet with a loud meow, pulling a laugh from both of them.

They de-tangled themselves from each other, and she ran a hand through her hair. “It’s getting late.” He nodded in agreement, although he never wanted this night to end. And then she continued, “Do you wanna, um— do you wanna stay the night? I’m sure I can find some comfy clothes that’ll fit you.”

He’d been a ship on a turbulent sea for the past two months, just barely staying afloat at times. It had been heart wrenching and nerve wracking and terrifying— and all of his own doing. And in one night, she’d anchored his vessel amongst the crashing waves. A solution kit, a hug, forgiveness, a kiss, and now this.

His racing mind came to a standstill. The near constant noise was quieted. The turbulent sea became calm, still waters.

“I’d really, really like that.”

…

Spencer ended up in an XXL t-shirt from a school fundraiser and a pair of stretchy bike shorts. Y/N had managed to scrounge up a new toothbrush from the back of the cabinet, and they brushed their teeth together with foamy smiles in the bathroom mirror.

It had taken very little convincing for Spencer to agree to share the bed. Y/N climbed in under the covers, settling back against the pillows and turning down the duvet for him to join her. He held up one finger and disappeared out into the living room, returning a minute later with the solution kit in hand. He moved to the bed, sliding in between the soft sheets and pulling up the duvet.

He leaned back against the pillows and turned toward her, opening the box. “This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me,” he admitted. “Can you, um— explain them to me? Some of them I figured out, but others— well, I just want to hear you, really.”

She scooted closer to him and leaned over to look in the box. “The first few are pretty self-explanatory. This one,” she said, pulling out a picture of her with her hands over her heart and belly, “is taking deep breaths until you’re calm and ready to try again. This one is reading a favorite book— which I know will take you about five minutes,” she joked.

She retrieved the card with the clip art book, and then the one behind it with a pencil and paper. “You can try to write down the difficult thoughts and feelings to get them out of your headspace.” The next card had a picture of an old rotary phone. “Hmmm, almost a match to the dinosaur phone you actually have,” she teased. “But it’s an option to call someone. Could be your mom, or a friend, or—”

“Or you? Could I call you?”

She looked up to find his eyes on her and smiled. “Yeah. You can call me, too.” She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, and— not for the first time that night— he could not believe how lucky he was.

She drew back to pull out the next card: a clip art rendering of a desktop computer. “Oh! This one is for researching something. I know you’ve got a seemingly endless encyclopedia of knowledge up there,” she tapped on his temple, “but there’s always something new to learn. And teaching yourself something can help you feel capable in moments where you’re feeling— a little helpless.”

There was also a small wooden puzzle cube in the box. She took it from the box and held it up in front of them. “I know your IQ will probably solve this thing in fifteen seconds, but at least it’ll be a nice fidget toy,” she laughed.

The last card in the box was a picture of a timer. “This one might seem kind of dumb, but sometimes it helps me to set a timer to remind myself that feeling shitty is a temporary state of being.” She held the card between her fingers and shrugged. “Even if I’m still feeling less than great after the timer goes off, it usually gives me the boost I need to move forward.”

She gathered all the cards in her hands, shuffling them and then placing them back in the box. “You can add your own options as you think of them. This was just a starter set.”

He closed the lid of the box and set it on the bed between them. He reached for her hand, and she immediately threaded their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb along her impossibly soft skin and took a deep breath.

“The timer isn’t dumb. I, um— I did something similar in prison.” She squeezed his hand. “I kept track of the— the days on this little spot on the wall. Every time it felt like I couldn’t take another day, I’d count the marks and remind myself that I— that I’d survived that long. That I could make it another day.”

He went quiet, and Y/N sat up a little in bed, brushed her free hand over his hair. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” It wasn’t a lie. He wanted to talk to her about it. He wanted to talk to her about everything. He wanted to let her into the shadowy corners of his mind that he kept from everyone else.

“If you’re sure, then I’m right here.” She pulled their intertwined fingers into her lap and leaned over to press a kiss to his shoulder.

When she pulled back, he let out a long breath. He watched her thumb as it traced an unwavering line across the back of his hand. “I was, um— I was in Mexico getting an experimental Alzheimer’s drug for my mom. I’d been going down there for a few months, and it wasn’t ideal, but the medication really seemed to be helping her. And I was just— I was desperate. Desperate for anything that would give me more time with her. More lucid, meaningful time, you know?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“It wasn’t the, uh— drug that got me arrested,” he admitted. “There was an unsub— one of the serial killers that we put away a few years ago— a psychopathic, narcissistic hitwoman who had this— I don’t know, vendetta against me, I guess. She, um— she manipulated another woman into drugging me and framing me for the murder of the doctor I was getting the medication from.”

He could feel her eyes on him, and he drew his brows together. “I know the— the whole thing sounds completely absurd— fictional even,” he admitted. “She used a mix of drugs called sevoflurane and scopolamine to trigger dissociation and hallucination, which made it really— um... For a long time, I couldn’t tell which of my memories were real and which were drug-induced delusions.”

He focused on the motion of her thumb against his skin. “The team got me out of the prison in Mexico, but because I went against FBI protocol when I crossed the border, the Bureau wouldn’t fund my legal representation here. Emily hired a great lawyer, but the judge was less than sympathetic. And it really, um— snowballed from there.”

He took a deep breath. “I was sent to Millburn, which is a maximum security prison, and then I didn’t get the protective custody detail, so I was in general population, but I didn’t want to hurt people or move drugs, so I got the shit kicked out of me for a while, and then my friend Luis was killed in front of me, and I—”

Spencer didn’t realize he was crying until Y/N’s hands were on his face, wiping the tears before pulling him into her arms. “A-and then I poisoned the drugs, which just ended up hurting a bunch of people who didn’t deserve to get hurt. And then I got outed as an agent, and my mom got abducted, and I stabbed myself to get put in solitary, but I wasn’t safe there either, and I really thought... I was sure I was going to die there.”

He wrapped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into her shoulder as the hurricane of his agony swirled and raged and then swept out as quickly as it rolled in. She soothed his cries and held him against her, never rushing or shushing him. Eventually, his weeping dwindled to quiet sniffles, his heaving breaths faded to drawn sighs. She kept him anchored through all of it, rocking him gently from side to side and calming his shattered frame.

When he finally quieted, she released him and pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. His chest tightened at her tear-stained cheeks, and he brought his hands up to wipe at them uselessly. When his hands fell back to his lap, she sniffled a little before taking a deep breath, releasing it on a shaky sigh.

“The choices you made kept you alive, Spencer. They were— impossible, horrific choices that I’m sure just—” She shook her head, searching for the right words. “I’m sure the weight of the guilt and grief has to be unbearable sometimes,” she surmised. “And there’s nothing I can say that will make that any less true.”

She cupped his face in her hands, swiping at the fresh tears with her thumbs. “But I’m... I’m so selfishly thankful for every choice you made. Because it was the perfect set of decisions in that it brought you here. To me…” The tears tracked hot down her cheeks, and she took a shaky breath. “And I feel so unbelievably lucky and so incredibly grateful to have you.”

He had her wrapped up in his arms before she’d even finished the sentence. “I never believed in luck,” he mused. He pressed a kiss into her hair and closed his eyes. “I’m still not sure if I do. But I can tell you that I’m the luckiest.”

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @s1utformgg @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid

Permanent (sfw) tags: @mrs-dr-reid @eevee0722 @goldentournesol

Series (x reader) tags: @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @ilzieah @froggybagels @gublersbooblers @matthcwgraygubler @mrs-dr-reid @flklrevrmre @andromedasstarship @reidspurplescarfs @hanniebee33 @nazdaniels @irisisonline @nazifa94 @elldell1204 @dorotheuh @outer-spacious

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #homoose writes #lhalc #tmsidk

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violetlilysunshine · 3 years

Text

Always the Prettiest

Chris Evans x Actress Reader

Requested

Anon: Could you please write a Chris Evans imagine where the reader is an actress and has to shave her head for a role and is worried that chris will no longer be attracted to her anymore? And he reassures her that he loves her no matter what?

Summary: You have to change your appearance for a role, and you're scared of Chris’ reaction.

WC: 1,155

Warnings: insinuation of smut

A/N: Thank you so much, nonnie for my first request! This practically wrote itself! I assumed fluff because it wasn’t specified; I hope you like it!!

MASTERLIST

You’d gotten your script a few days ago, and of course your attention went to the story itself and memorizing your lines. You didn’t exactly know what you were signing up for when you started, but soon you were falling in love with your character.

You read through the first half of the script at record speed, dying to know what was happening. Obviously you knew the general plot, but the story was so beautifully written and captivating. You couldn’t wait to start filming and made a mental note to seek out this screenwriter again.

You finished reading the script in the bathtub the next morning, having fallen asleep with it on your chest. The absolute last thing you read was your character’s physical description, your heart sinking when you saw the last detail. Nevermind that for now, you knew Chris was supposed to come home today and you wanted all of your focus to be on him. You didn’t want to spend your limited time together thinking about your next project; as much as you had planned for that not to happen, it did.

Chris walked through the front door that evening, immediately being tackled by Dodger. He welcomed the reunion for a little bit, missing his best friend, before turning his attention to you. You’d been standing at the end of the hall, ankles crossed, leaning against the doorway, and hands fiddling together in front of your abdomen.

“Hiya, beautiful,” he whispered breathily, taking you in. His eyes trailed up and down your figure hungrily; he loved seeing you in his clothes. His t-shirt reached your mid thigh, your biker shorts barely poked out the bottom, and his fuzzy socks falling down your ankles.

He walked to you quickly, engulfing you in a hug. His arms found their home, tightly around your waist, and yours latched around his neck instantly. As anxious as you were, you relaxed in his arms as always. He pulled you together for a chaste, but passionate kiss. It didn’t last as long as you hoped, but you relished it none the less.

He leaned back slightly, mouth still hovering over yours, and whispered gently, “hi.”

“You already said that,” you giggled.

“Yeah, but someone didn’t,” he answered, laughing slightly.

“Hi, bubba,” you whispered.

He pulled you in again, tightening his hold around your waist and kissing you again. This time filled with tongue, but just as much love.

Once you were both thoroughly out of breath, he pulled back again, stepping out of the embrace and turning around.

“God, I missed you so much,” he told you over his shoulder.

“Missed you too, stud muffin,” you answered, eyes trailing down his body and to his backside as he bent over to pick up his duffel bag from in front of the door.

“Stud muffin?” He laughed.

“Well, I like what I see…” you shrugged at him.

“Let’s go, doll,” he answered, grabbing your hand and leading you through the house to your shared bedroom.

He plopped his duffel at the foot of the bed and breathed deeply, “feels good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home,” you told him earnestly, “for more reasons than one.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, “oh yeah? Already, darlin’?”

“Been waiting since the day you left,” you told him, chuckling.

“Me too, babe, me too,” he laughed back, “let me freshen up a second first.”

He padded into the bathroom, closing the door gently; in the meantime, you spritzed on some perfume, checked your hair, and admired yourself in the mirror; you were going to take advantage of everything you had while you had it.

“Babe, is this your script?” He called from the bathroom after opening the door.

“Oh yeah, I left it after my bath,” you answered, “sorry.”

You jogged into the bathroom, hoping to get it from him before he flipped through it at all.

“Tell me about it?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah, well…” you told him the basic plot while he brushed and flossed his teeth. He asked a few questions here and there, mostly trying to find out who was starring with you out of jealousy; no one had your heart but him, for as long as he would keep it anyway. You trailed off toward the end of the story, before he began to ask about the costuming.

“Well, the style is gonna be cool I think, very different from my own, but there, uh, might be a few appearance changes I’ll have to make…” you trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t ask and you could get on with your activities.

He finished flossing and turned to rest against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, “yeah? Like what?” He asked, thinking maybe it was a few fake tats or another ear piercing, maybe some fake colorful extensions.

You mumbled the answer, not wanting to come to terms with it yourself, but also fearing his reaction.

“What was that?” He asked, weary as to why you wouldn’t tell him.

You took a deep breath, “I sorta have to shave my head,” you answered slowly, eyes trained on the floor.

“Really?” He asked, his interest piqued.

“Yeah,” you whispered, scared out of your mind.

Chris knew something was off, he thought maybe you were just nervous to do it because you’ve always had long hair, and maybe you used it as a security blanket, “What’s going on, pretty girl?”

“I’m scared,” you whispered to both yourself and him, still not making eye contact.

He reached forward and grabbed your hands slowly, not wanting to push you, but so desperately needing to comfort you, “what’s so scary about it?”

“I’m afraid you won’t like me anymore because I won’t be pretty anymore and I don’t know I just don’t think I can rock a shaved head and I just really don’t want to lose you and if you really hate it then I won’t do it and I’ll drop out of the movie but mostly I don’t want you to leave me,” you rushed out, fully crying and squeezing his hands.

“Baby,” he whispered back, processing everything you said, “I’ll think you’re beautiful no matter what. Hair or no hair, any tats, any piercings, the whole lot. You’re stunning,” he reached his hands up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him as he gently wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Are you sure?” You whispered, sniffling.

“Positive, sweetheart. You’re always the prettiest thing in the room.”

You looked in his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and love. Your heart swelled at the gorgeous being in front of you, “well, I’ll take second place.”

“Second place? To whom?”

“To you of course,” you giggled, kissing him quickly before pulling back just a little bit, brushing your noses together.

“Second? Never.”

“I love you, stud muffin,” you giggled.

“I love you too, hot stuff.”

Part 2!

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #anon request #chris evans one shot #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x fem reader #violetwrites

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

#harry potter #hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #L writes #by request

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