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kendsleyauthor · 7 months

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🍂 Sanctuary + Mirror + Puzzle 🍂

Promptober 2023

Print / Trinket Universe (Kylian and Bluebell)

~1400 words

Warning: Dehumanization

Introducing new characters! Kylian is a rich, eccentric artist. Bluebell is a print who is unfortunate enough to catch his full attention 💙

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Kylian hadn’t created anything in weeks. He didn’t bother lamenting this issue in his social circle. They would simply click their tongues and remind him that he could continue living in luxury for the rest of his life without having another single creative idea.

They didn’t understand what it meant to have an overwhelming hunger to shape something—anything—and to come up empty day after day. As an artist who utilized numerous mediums, from traditional art to more complex pieces like puzzles—something should have been calling to him.

He wasn’t particularly personable at the best of times, but when inspiration was elusive, he could go months without being spotted in public.

His woodworking studio took up one corner of the ground floor. Ample light bathed his work surfaces—all of which were crowded and cluttered with half-formed pieces.

Cursing under his breath, he snapped a delicate piece of wood between his hands while the saw continued to buzz maniacally. It had started off fine. Intarsia was careful work, and though his technique was flawless, the outline of the owl he had envisioned was not turning out like he’d imagined.

As he switched off the saw, he caught the sound of the front door opening. His jaw clenched as he heard the housekeeper greet the cleaning service workers.

Not for the first time, he briefly considered the idea of setting up a studio separate from his home. Money wasn’t an issue. He simply preferred to avoid venturing to a different location to create his art when he could do it from the comfort of his home.

And that meant, twice a week, dealing with outsiders in his space. Two humans, and five prints. So long as they stayed out of his way, he wouldn’t have to snap at them, let alone look at them. They understood the protocol by now.

After another half hour of splintered attempts at a woodworking project, Kylian decided to vacate the studio before he destroyed one of the saws. Perhaps looking through some old sketchbooks would provide some inspiration.

Along the way to one of his messier studios on the second floor, he caught glimpses of movement. A normal person down the hall. Two prints dusting meticulously at one of the bookshelves. None of them dared to greet him, and he didn’t acknowledge their presence. Ghosts were meant to be invisible, after all.

“If you refuse to date, you should at least get yourself a Mercy print,” one of his colleagues had crooned a few months ago. “You could use the company. Let yourself have a little fun, for fuck’s sake.”

He didn’t have a Mercy print for the same reason that he never hosted social functions at his own home. The thought of having to entertain or be entertained by someone beneath him was entirely unappealing. He couldn’t understand why anyone would subject themselves to it.

The sanctuaries of his studios were more than enough to keep him satisfied—even when inspiration was out of reach.

As he approached the studio where he stored most of his old sketchbooks, he came to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

The door was partly opened. On its own, that wouldn’t have normally gotten under his skin. Perhaps he carelessly forgot to shut it after his last visit. But he’d enjoyed his solitude enough to sense when he wasn’t alone—and he was certain that goosebumps were rising along his arms for a reason.

Taking silent steps, he approached the door and peered inside. Light filtered through the sheer curtains across the wide window. Every bit of illumination seemed to concentrate on the slight movement in the studio.

Kylian held his breath, narrowing his eyes.

A print was on his desk, admiring herself in the mirror that he occasionally used for self-portraits. She was so absorbed in her reflection, she didn’t even notice him in the doorway.

Disgust roiled through him, culminating in a silent rage.

The cleaning crew knew to stay out of his studios. Under no circumstances were they to touch any of his work.

But he didn’t recognize this print—there was no way he could forget someone who looked like her. So she was new. Either someone had been negligent in warning her about his strict preferences, or she was a self-absorbed airhead who couldn’t resist a mirror even when she was knowingly trespassing.

Kylian nearly shouted for her to get the fuck out of there—perhaps he’d startle her enough to make her fall and break her neck. But he was taken aback by her odd appearance as she fixed her hair in the mirror.

Bronze skin caught the muted light perfectly, as though the sun was hellbent on caressing her. Her inky black locks were pulled into a high ponytail with different shades of blue yarn, the ends of which cascaded among the waves of her hair.

Strangely, she was wearing a dress. It appeared to be stitched from many different worn-out and frayed fabrics—also blue, blue blue.

There was something about her. A sort of aura that he’d never witnessed in a print before.

She dropped her hands from her hair, satisfied with the way it fell, and took hold of the sides of her skirt. Swaying side to side, she took delicate steps, flouncing to music that Kylian couldn’t hear. She was performing a subdued version of a dance. Her full lips, touched by a faint flush of color, parted with a wordless melody.

“La la-la, la-la.”

The same tune, over and over. Her dance became more daring, her feet tracing a fluid path in front of the mirror. Then she began to twirl, eyes closed, arms raising slowly over her head.

Kylian gaped. She was out of her mind. He began to wonder if she wasn’t from the cleaning crew at all—she might have wandered in off the streets. But he couldn’t stop staring, slack-jawed.

Her eyes fluttered open as she was making a final turn. Her gentle song broke off in a shriek when she spotted him. She came to such an abrupt stop, she might have sprained her ankle as she lost her footing and fell to a hard seat. The print gasped, swiftly covering her mouth as though to belatedly take back her scream.

“Mr. Hart!” She scrambled to stand and lowered her head in a bow. “I-I’m so sorry. Ever so sorry.”

Her accent was strange, almost as if she’d stepped out of a Western film. He could barely believe the twang in her voice was real—let alone believe that she was real. He didn’t say a thing as she apologized over and over. There wasn’t a single string of words that could encapsulate a response to the bizarre scene he’d witnessed.

The print snatched up her dusting rag and climbed down the table leg expertly. The skittering movement vaguely reminded him of a rat, and he began to surface back to himself. Still, he kept silent.

Her cheeks were flushed as she made her way to the door—and inadvertently, toward him. Her mismatched dress fluttered like flower petals in the wind as she skirted around him carefully, like he might decide to step on her for her insolence.

She’d almost made it to the hallway when he venomously snapped, “What’s your name?”

Her blushing face paled. “Bluebell, sir.” She gave an eccentric little curtsy with her ragged skirts, then hurried off.

Kylian pointedly shut the door behind him, hoping she’d feel the vibration of it. He took a seat at his desk, noting the tiny footprints in the dust and pencil shavings near the mirror.

Bluebell.

What a stupid name. It made her sound like a trinket. She had to have grown up feral, out in the wilderness where prints only knew how to name their children after plants. Strange that she wouldn’t have adopted a normal name now that she was existing in her proper station in life.

Then again, she was clearly inadequate at the job that her proper station in life afforded her.

Her strangeness seemed exponential.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He grabbed a sketchbook and flipped through it. Finding it full, he tossed it aside. He repeated the procedure five times before he found a blank page. He picked up a charcoal pencil and began drawing for the first time in weeks.

He gazed at his creation silently, equal measures disgusted with himself and enthralled.

Then he reached for every shade of blue brush pen within reach.

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syncrovoid-presents · 9 months

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Wally and the Colour RED

Wally and the colour Red have an interesting relationship in Welcome Home. This is a rambling/analysis of different things I've found that makes me believe it's an important detail moving forwards with the Welcome Home Mystery!

First! Why do I think this matters?

There's a few reasons why I think this matters! First, while all the members of the cast seem to be tied to a colour, none is as focused or as consistent as Wally and the colour red! The two primary examples I'll use to cover this is one that we've had for a while, and two that we got in this update. Those being the signatures at the bottom of the guestbook, the interactable telephone, and the name graphics on the transcript page!

Interestingly, all of the cast are directly tied to a specific colour! The signatures at the bottom of the Guestpage and the colours of the "calls" on the telephone are the same for each character. This being pink for Julie, orange for Sally, yellow for Frank, green for Poppy, turquoise for Howdy, blue for Barnaby, purple for Eddie, and red for Wally. This is consistent (and possibly something to pay attention for in the future?)

Notably however, Home is signed by Wally, while the audio file for Wally's "call" recording is also called "duet" when you open it in another tab. Audio files with "duet" is a sign that Home is present. This means that red is not strictly a Wally colour, but also the colour for Home!

(if you're curious, the other audio called "duet" is Wally's little song he sings)

This is interesting, because Wally and Home are often treated as a duo, moreso than any other characters of Welcome Home. I would also like to point out another detail, one that I think ties into this tie between Wally, Home and the colour red.

The Records

All the records from Wally's hidden message ("I will help you understand neighbor, I will find a way soon.") are red! Sure, some are glitched, but they are all red. As is this record with the strange audio (has anyone decoded this yet?). This audio is directly tied to Wally, as it's called "(DRAWING?) WITH WALLY DARLING".

However the hidden one's may not just be Wally. Though they are all name the tab "answer" when opened, I'm tempted to say that "answer" is wally prompting us to answer (or, alternatively, Wally is trying to answer us, however he perceives us).

I believe that Home is there too in the audio. If you listen to all of them in a row, turning up the audio will reveal that there is a heart beat in the background. This, I want to say, is Home and not Wally, as Wally does not seem to register them. It peaks about halfway through with Neighbor, coincidentally the audio that is both glitching and is made of a series of clicks rather than voice lines.

I have seen people say that this is "Help Me" or "Hello" in morse code. I do not know which is the agreed translation is (to me it sounds like "…. . ..-.. .. -.. ---", which translates to "HEĘIDO", which is not a word. However it most resembles "…. . .-.. .-.. ---" which translates to "HELLO")

Regardless of what Home may be saying, it shows that the hidden recordings can be put together into a timeline that sounds like one recording, which means it's most likely all recorded at the same place. Ergo, Home is in the hidden recordings as well!

Other spots where red is brought up

There are other instances of red being tied to Wally. Some are obvious, like his love of apples (red ones specifically), the Wally prints/finger paint on the bottom of the guestbook, the background of the "i <3 Wally" gif/sticker in the sticker section of the site (also shared with Home. Wally's character description is also shared by home!), Wally himself in the "so-below" page, among other things. Such as the Wally themed telephone being red, despite his more iconic blue swirled hair (or blue and yellow-trimed sweater), his clothing in multiple official artworks, the Wally cereal box, and more.

(Like something I've noticed, which is that Home is the only house that's a solid colour (red!) without any pattern breaking it up, plus the most "standout" red that Wally typically wears being tied around his neck (symbolism?). Plus the "W" of Welcome Home is red! That's fun too!

There's also some... stranger ones. Such as this hidden piece of morse code found by this person, which spells out ".. -- .-. . -..", or "IM RED" when translated to english.

And more hidden ones too, that tie into the hidden staff page (I have a post breaking that down that you can find here!! I cover everything I could find plus went through the website code, if you want to know everything about the secret staff site check it out!)

There is the red safe, which has in WHRP universe lore!! I delve into this in my other post, just know that it is something that exists both in the secret website (it is what introduces you to the hidden website!) AND it exists in the WHRP world, both written about in printed emails and as a physical object seen within The Room:tm:. You may also notice everyone is represented by their original colours, except for home, who is now white (or blank?).

There's also scrap pieces of red paper spilled on the ground in The Room:tm: (that have drawn spirals), a red clock in the style of Wally's red car, a red painting of some sort on the wall of The Room:tm: (that we never get a good look at, though it may have a drawn yellow eye in the upper center), a red apple, and most importantly of all, this:

The Red Notebook

This is no ordinary notebook. This here is the notebook that the WHRP team have "loaned" the Question Answerer, also known as the Head Curator of Question Answer! according to the printed emails. This book is very important because there are multiple signs that it was written by Wally. Inside is a sketchpad attached to the lefthand interior bookcase with little paintings and a handprint suspiciously similar to that on the bottom of the GuestBook page and doodles in the styles Wally has used (spirals, finger paint smiley face, the drawn apple, etc).

(by the way, if you're interested in what the note says the most accurate translation I've found is by Tumblr user truckfreaks

"Hello,

My name doesn't matter. I am here to catalogue something I'm not sure is fully real. But it must be. I'm holding all the evidence in my hands. Pictures. Characters. Text I can barely read. It's called "Welcome Home" and it looks like it might've been a children's book? Like I said, I can't tell.

It was sopping wet when I found it. When I first reached into one of the brightly colored envelopes, my hand was already covered in some gross, [unknown - possibly “oozing”] material. It feels like antiques are always covered in some kind of grime. I'm trying to clean up what I have and do a little more digging.

There's only one name I can make out right now... Wally. Probably important, but like I said, I'll keep looking.

XOXO"

The wrap up (don't want to make this too long!)

Regardless of what you make of this, it shows that there is even more proof of Wally, not just the character but the Wally ""haunting"" the website and the Wally within the WHRP universe, all being tied to the colour red. (Quick clarification: The Wally we see in branding, clips of the show, etc are all Wally, however he isn't current Wally. He is the Wally of the past, the original Wally, the base Wallly, whatever you want to call him. Therefore I separate him from the "now" Wally. It's unconfirmed whether the Wally that's seemingly trying to communicate with us through the website is the same as the Wally that seems to be related to all the objects being sent to Question Answerer, who is the same Wally that is constantly calling them. If so, then there is only one "now" Wally. If they are separate, then there are two, possibly one in the website itself and one focusing on Question Answerer. Please note, this is all speculation).

While it's true that red is Wally's favourite colour, I believe that it's far more than just that tying Wally and the color red together. Going forwards, anything red that isn't immediately branded as a Wally related object should be considered important, at least I think so.

As for the connection between Wally and Home, both sharing the colour Red? I think this primarily is a display of how the two characters either rely on each other or are, in the vaguest of ways, tied together by fate.

Good bye for now!

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home analysis #wh home #i have... so many thoughts!! so much I wish to ramble on!! but I shall leave it with this #hopefully it makes sense! if not I will re-read it later and maybe make it more comprehensive #but summary: red and wally!! important!! this is important!!#also question answerer... you and me we're buds from another universe @:)#the reason why question answerer is mentioned is because their part of the story is VERY important when analyzing #the background WHRP-universe happenings. The objects are heavily implied to be coming straight from the Welcome Home world #(though covered in a black ooze. The same ooze mentioned in the letter BESIDE the notebook tied to Wally AND the same ooze growing on #growing on the walls of The Room:tm:)#Other objects appearing in The Room:tm: also have this black ooze. AND!!#this black ooze is known not just by Question Answerer (who seems to be the main restorer of the Welcome Home media)#but also by the WHRP team.. who directly tells Question Answerer that if they feel nauseous #dizzy sick or otherwise unwell around the stuff.. to just ignore it!#denial TRULY is the BEST medication folks /it is not please take care of yourselves!!#however the emails (printed? which is suspicious?) between the WHRP team and Question Answerer are... odd #very odd. An oddness that goes beyond a simple company acting in corporate interest over employee safety #maybe I should cover that?#hmmmm so many things!! so many thoughts!!#Alas my habit of writing much in the tags cannot be stopped. anyways thank you very much for reading!!#I encourage you to share thoughts (if you wish! No pressure of course!)#syncrovoid.txt

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bittykimmy13 · 2 years

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Ready or Not (GT)

A Print/Trinket Universe Story

In which Everly is a little too successful in distracting Micah from doom-scrolling.

Word count: ~3k

Characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5 💕

((More Micah and Everly))

Warning: Consensual fearplay 🌸

Touring was always a mixed bag. On one hand, Everly got to see more of the world than she ever thought possible. She got to see Micah ride the high of performing on stage. On the other, she more often than not had to play the role of the quiet, dutiful employee. She still had her moments with Micah, but they were nothing compared to the bursts of lazy days that staying in his home allotted.

One thing was certain. She could not stand the week leading up to a tour. While she was content to spend the days quietly prepping and spend the nights soaking in some relaxation, Micah was a live wire all hours.

He was a strange mix of pumped and nervous, as he always was just before a song drop or a tour. Album and song downloads for his latest drop had been astronomical, but he seemed to think that all of his talents would up and vanish right before he got on stage. He was ready—she knew that, everyone knew that. Now if only he could get the message.

It was nights like these that made her wish his usual self-assured attitude would make an appearance.

Everly was already dressed for bed—a silken tank top and shorts—lying facedown on one of Micah’s many pillows. Her chin was propped on her folded arms, legs kicking idly in the air. Micah was propped against the headboard. With each scroll through his phone, he only seemed to grow more agitated. He was still fully clothed from the day, too distracted to be even semi-engaged in their conversation, let alone change.

Everly propped herself up on her elbows. “What do you think about stopping at that alien-themed cafe outside Phoenix like last time? They were weirdly accommodating.”

“Mhm.” Scroll, scroll, scroll.

“Oh, and what about the museum in Atlanta? We’ll get a chance to stop by there, right?”

Lip bite. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

She huffed. “I’m about to strip naked and do a backflip off the pillow, are you watching?”

“Of course, babe.” His eyes didn’t budge from the screen.

Fed up, pushed herself to hands and knees. He barely seemed to notice her clambering onto his stomach, but he certainly noticed when she shoved his phone right out of his hand. His wide eyes finally landed on her, and he stared dumbly for a few seconds before uttering, “Wait, did you say you were gonna strip?”

“You know, I don’t think you deserve it.” She crossed her arms and kicked his wrist when he reached for his phone. “Nope. No. You’re not gonna touch that.”

Finally, he seemed to be more present.

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Oh.”

To her mild surprise, he relaxed back and didn’t touch his phone. Something mischievous glinted in his eyes as he assessed her on top of him, leading to some kind of bizarre staring contest. She knew she had him when a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. She tilted her chin up and held her ground.

“Bossy,” he said. “You know, I almost miss when you used to be intimidated by me.”

Her stony expression cracked so she could scoff. “Me? Intimidated by you? When was that? Was I even there?” Lie. She could remember all too vividly how uncertain and bashful she’d been when they first reunited. But other than that…

“I beg to differ.” He moved his hand, but thankfully not for his phone. His fingertips traced her side. “You were skittish the first night we met—and a lot of nights after that, too. Sure you were putting up a tough front, but you, light of my life, were…” He pinched her hip. “Jumpy.”

She swatted his fingers off. “Please! You were too drunk to remember, anyway.” Dropping to all fours, she crawled up his belly, up his chest, closer to his face. “You, pain in my ass, have never been scary. At least not to me.

His eyes lit up brighter. “Wanna bet?”

“Oh, you’re trying to rob me of my paycheck now?” She laid face down and propped her elbows on his chest. If it was a game he wanted, fine. As long as he kept him checking his social media post analytics for five minutes, she’d happily play along.

“No money involved. I just wanna prove you wrong.” A fingertip traced her spine. “You’ve inspired me. I’m wondering how different things would be if I weren’t so… unbelievably kind and charismatic that fire night. Like… what if I had chased you down instead of the other way around?”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. You never would’ve caught me.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” Her grin widened. “There would’ve been plenty of places to hide, and you were too drunk to do the most basic tasks of your job. So there.”

“Well, there’s plenty of places to hide here. But I’m not drunk, and I’d hate to have that advantage over you…”

“Even sober, you wouldn’t be a problem.”

He gave her a long look. A hand slowly wrapped around her waist, giving her plenty of opportunity to back out. “So, let’s go, then.”

Truth be told, she wasn’t sure exactly how he intended to prove his point, but she had all his focus, and she was keen on keeping it. She pushed his fingers closed around her. “Let’s.”

With that, he scooped her up and leaned over the side of the bed to set her on the ground. She stepped back, watching with a little frown as he laid back and covered his eyes with his forearm.

Then, he started counting.

“Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight…”

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” When he ignored her and kept counting, she rolled her eyes. “Wow, are you sure you can count backward from there?”

He counted louder. “Forty-five, forty-four…”

She raised her voice. “Come on, that’s not enough time!”

Micah went on regardless.

A tingle shot through her limbs. Maybe it was the angle from the floor, or the way the countdown dwindled menacingly, but she started sprinting. Thankfully, the carpet was more than enough to silence her steps. She paused in the middle of the room and turned all around. Hiding under the bed or dresser felt way too obvious. Just about every piece of furniture she could reach would be searched first.

She glanced at the window and briefly thought about scaling the inside of the curtains. One twitch would give away her position, and she’d be a sitting duck for him to snatch.

“Dammit, Micah,” she whispered, having been ready for bed.

The closet door was ajar. The darkness inside was promising. She ran for it, reaching the shadows just as he neared the end of his countdown. The inside of the closet was stupidly massive. She couldn’t even see the end of it without the light on. And these were only his casual daily clothes.

True to his nature, Micah started dragging out the numbers playfully near the end, giving her plenty of time to decide on a place to hide. She found a narrow raised ledge behind a low rack of jackets. There was room for her to bolt if she needed to. She wasn’t cornering herself, she insisted, keeping her eyes on the exit route while she positioned herself.

She listened closely as he moved through his cavern of a bedroom. As she suspected, he searched all the obvious spots first. She even heard the sound of him moving the pillows, as though she would have climbed back onto the bed to trick him.

Although she felt mostly secure, her breath was still coming in quick bursts that she couldn’t explain. It was just a game. A silly game to keep his hyperactive mood occupied. And the fact that he insisted on being so corny about it only solidified that.

“Where did that unruly little print get to?” he called in a singsong voice.

Everly rolled her eyes, but she flattened her back against the wall when the closet door opened wider. His shadow darkened the entry. The light flicked on��a glittering chandelier in the center that threw rainbows in every direction. She held perfectly still, able to see his long legs stroll casually inside.

She found herself wishing that they had set some sort of time limit. He seemed to be enjoying his ability to drag this out.

Much to her advantage, he started his search on the opposite side of her. While he was occupied delicately digging through drawers, she formulated her next move. Carefully, she peeled herself away from the wall and tried to keep her legs from trembling with nerves.

While he had his back turned, she silently ran to the ottoman that separated them. There was no space underneath it—not that she was aiming to hide there anyway. She simply watched his shadow and waited until he was on the move again. Then she tactfully made her way around the side of the ottoman, keeping it between herself and Micah as he circled the closet.

If she could find a spot he had already searched, he’d have to give it up eventually. Her heart pounded like a drum each second she was exposed to the light, even though she had a healthy amount of cover.

A game, she reminded herself. Don’t be so serious.

Peeking around the side of the ottoman, she saw him on the far side of the closet now. He pounced at the space behind the shirts, shoving them aside like he meant to startle her. And although she was as far from him as possible, she still gave a little jump and covered her mouth to keep a squeal from coming out.

Without wasting another second, she ran to the set of low drawers he had already searched. Instead of handles, there was a gap at the top of each drawer, just wide enough for her to squeeze through. She scaled up to the second-to-highest drawer and slipped inside. She doubted he’d dig through his precious collection of ties and pocket squares twice.

As she made her way deeper and tried to bury herself as discreetly as possible, she didn’t realize how low the back of the drawers were. When she reached the end, her foot slipped off the edge, startling her enough to give a cry.

Immediately, she pulled her leg back up and covered her mouth, but it was too late.

The sounds of Micah’s searching stopped. She willed him to think the sound was just his imagination and go back to digging through pants pockets. But as it turned out, he was just as bad at obeying her silent orders as her outright demands.

“Evy,” he crooned. “This’ll all be much easier if you just tell me where you are.”

His footsteps slowly approached the drawers. It was as though each one of his movements was measured to make her heart pound harder. Despite herself, she grinned behind her hand and wanted to squeak at the thrill of it.

To her relief, he started with the bottom drawer and seemed to be making his way up. The low back of the drawer may have doomed her, but it could also buy her some time. If she waited for the right moment, she could slip down to the next drawer, all the way until he left.

She stayed coiled underneath the cool fabric of a tie and held her breath, ready to make her escape after he opened and closed the drawer directly beneath her.

But he was cleverer than she gave him credit for.

It was like he read her mind and knew where she was all along. He skipped the drawer beneath her and pulled her wide open. Light blinded her. She screamed and tried to scramble down to the next drawer, but it was no use.

“There you are,” he said, a wolfish grin in his voice.

She almost made it, but he yanked the drawer all the way open and caught her leg at the last second. It wouldn’t have made a difference. That didn’t stop her from squirming and kicking to free herself from his hold. He dragged her to the center of the drawer, but instead of plucking her up, he released her. She fell on a heap among his ties.

“Ugh, I’m too tired to run again,” she groaned.

“Not a problem.”

Apparently, he had no intentions of starting another round anyway. Not when he had her right where he wanted her. He removed the drawer entirely, making her yelp in astonishment. She dropped to a crouch to keep from falling over as he carried the drawer to the ottoman. He set it down on the center, then leaned down and braced his hands on either side of the drawer.

For a few moments, he simply stared. She was used to him towering over her, but the look on his face sent involuntary shivers up her spine. It was the same look he gave during photoshoots when he was instructed to play the bad boy. The dangerous boy.

Except here, she could almost buy it.

“I don’t take kindly to prints who ruin my ties,” he said. One hand lifted toward her, the back of a finger trailing her arm. “Now, what’ll I do with you?”

For all her tiredness, she couldn’t help but give it one last good fight. She bolted, hoping to take him by surprise. He was ready for that. He grabbed a lavender tie and unraveled it at a leisurely pace. She vaulted onto the ottoman and almost made it to the edge, but he stretched the tie in front of her like a wall to block her path.

She skidded to a stop just in time to barely bump against the barrier, but she lost her balance and fell backward onto her hands and butt. She scuttled back as he herded her with the tie.

“I think you’d look much better in this,” he said, his voice nearly a purr.

He closed the distance, catching her waist in the fabric and forcing her to stand. He looped it around her once, twice, his hands flying too fast for her to keep track of. She tried to wriggle herself free and duck away, but he pulled on both ends, tightening the fabric around her.

She panted. “Really fucking creative—” Her words were stolen as he lifted her with the tie. She shrieked and held on for dear life. As much as she trusted him, having her legs dangle over a bone-breaking fall was enough to make her doubt anyone.

He brought her up to eye level, looking utterly pleased with himself. “I told you it’d be easier if you just told me where you were.”

He carried her to the bed and deposited her on the pillow she had started on. When he climbed onto the mattress, he watched with blatant amusement as she struggled to unravel herself from the tie. Even without the tension of him pulling on the fabric, the slippery combination of her nightclothes and the silken tie did not make things any easier. It took her a good half a minute to get out of the snare. The moment she kicked the last of it off, she crawled hurriedly for the edge of the pillow.

“That’s my Ev,” he said affectionately. “You don’t give up, do you?”

She dropped to the mattress, but that seemed to be precisely where he preferred her. He adjusted himself, corralling her with his arm and torso. Everywhere she turned was him.

Grumbling, she walked over to his chest and gave him a shove. He pretended to gasp in pain, which was worse than any other reaction he could’ve had. With a huff, she sat down and crossed her arms.

He grinned down at her. “Aw, don’t be a sore loser just ‘cause I scared you.”

“Honestly, I forgot about that part. I’m just mad you found me.” She shrugged. “But you didn’t scare me.”

“I did too.”

“You did not.”

“Really?”

He moved again—this time far more dramatically. He braced himself on his hands and loomed right over her. That dumb face made its appearance again—his eyes going dark and cold, mouth set in a sinister smirk. He breathed deeply and leaned down, looking ready to devour her, stubbornness and all.

Her heart skipped a beat—and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She backed up slowly.

“Game’s still on, then,” he murmured.

Everly laughed despite herself and plunged under the covers. She crawled frantically, trying to be unpredictable in her direction. His bed was stupidly massive to match his casual closet, so at least she had that to her advantage.

It would’ve been easier for him to remove the sheets entirely and find her in a millisecond, but she knew he’d find no fun in that. Instead, his hand slipped in after her, feeling around fruitlessly as she tried to make herself as small and invisible as possible.

She managed to evade him for nearly a full minute before he threw himself under the sheets. At once, he spotted her and grinned. She shrieked and tried to back away, but within seconds, he had her again. He scooped his hand around her waist and brought her closer to bury her under his affections.

His smirk was gone. He was all bright—peppering her with relentless kisses and nuzzles.

“Alright!” She laughed and writhed under his tenderness. It made her give in quicker than any cold eyes or smirk could. “You win!”

He buried his cheek against her and kissed up her arm and shoulder. “You win too, babe. All this attention from me? Good for you.”

She made a gagging noise, which only earned her more kisses.

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aquatic-batt · 7 months

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“you can’t make angst of some cat and a literal stick figure” then what the fuck is this??

#been thinking a lot about Cheedo’s story and accidentally gave both her and Spot a somewhat angsty relationship oops #tmw u create a world for urself and ur bestie but u fall in love w one of the characters in ur own world #so u trade the life of a god for a life in ur own world and it strains ur relationship w ur bestie so they leave to explore the universe #bc they feel like they don’t matter anymore bc u care too much about ur new world to pay attention to them #then they come back and things are weird #but it’s okay bc u make up <3 #guys I love making oc lore #Cheedo #Spot #wip #Jutlin’s characters #wing prints

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daydreamerdrew · 1 year

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Captain Marvel Adventures (1941) #23

#oh I hadn’t realized that all the kids in the in-universe club knew Cap’s secret identity but it makes sense #they’ve presented it before that characters that read these comics know #like how all the lieutenant marvels were introduced as kids who read the comics and knew that they were real even though other kids didn’t #and there was that one story where Billy joins a group of kids playing Captain Marvel #and is assigned the role of Billy Batson and is told to say Shazam #I like this approach I think it made it kind of immersive for kids back then who read the comics and joined the actual club #though I think the club was largely used for advertising #they printed one of the letters ‘from Captain Marvel’ in the Fawcett Companion #and it was basically largely just Cap telling them to buy other Fawcett Magazines #and the clothes in Mary’s fashion line that his sister Mary Marvel ‘designed herself’#dc #fawcett comics #marvel family #billy batson #my posts #comic panels

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666m4gg0tinahoodie · 2 years

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I wrote this for my book and my parents are discouraged to read it. It's like, idk, 80 ''manuscrit'' A4 pages, so around 300 pages of a book format. Even I am quite discouraged to continue knowing I'm not even at the third of it oh my Lord help-

#I just want people to be interested in my stuff and maybe I'll be motivated #Like please mom and dad #I give them by packages of 10 pages like every 10 or 5 pages I write I print them #So it's not too much in one Time but noooo #It's been weeks and I wrote and all and they aren't keeping pace #I shouldn't blame them but I don't really have anyone else to make it read to #Except my psychiatrists but they Can stick it to their asses #Anyway this isn't the same story than the last one I started it's a project that was there before but was more elaborate #I didn't abandon the other but it comes After like it's in the same universe #And it explains the origins and shows the other side of the thing it's complicated #Anyway idk if I will be able to keep writting with my soon to come classes #My english teacher praised me and my plum and my english skills #So now I have to make her proud and be the best or I may as well die #My psy was like problem with perfectionnisme much uh #And I was like naaah it's just that if I'm not perfect I'd rather die haha #Please stop reading my tags it's just me talking to myself at this point

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keycomicbooks · 2 hours

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The Punisher #1 (2014) 1st Print Mitch Gerads Cover, Inks, & Pencils, Nathan Edmondson Story, Tuggs & Dos Soles Cartel 1st appearance

#ThePunisher #1 (2014) 1st Print #MitchGerads Cover, Inks, & Pencils, #NathanEdmondson Story, Tuggs & Dos Soles Cartel 1st appearance "Memento Mori" For years, The Punisher has waged a war on crime in New York City... https://www.rarecomicbooks.fashionablewebs.com/Punisher%20Vol%208%202014.html#1 SAVE ON SHIPPING COST - NOW AVAILABLE FOR LOCAL PICK UP IN DELTONA, FLORIDA #RareComicBooks #KeyComicBooks #MarvelComics #MCU #MarvelUniverse #KeyIssue

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noodleflowers · 3 months

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OH MY GOD I LOVE JOHN WICK

#there would be days I’d just look at my wall of JW art #I think it’s very awesome #I need more prints :’’)#I also have a small little shrine of 4 figures and other cool stuff #I just really like John wick…#like I just love the story #I’ve only watched animated stuff but when it comes to anything related/ within the JW universe I gotta see #I’m really excited about the anime adaptation- I really wanna see.#would it surprise you if I told you that I got into JW was because of F O R T N I T E #I’m not lying #when he first got into the game #everyone was talking about him #I was curious and welp- I got hooked #I remember the 3rd movie came out when I went on my senior trip. I watched it after I graduated. then I got so hooked.#I even got the comic-

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penny-anna · 9 months

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honestly kinda unfortunate that the only spooky library aesthetic is the victorian fancy bookshelves dark academia one bcos like. ok here's some library stories.

while i was at the university the library was undergoing a major refurbishment so for a little while the print journals were being stored temporarily down in the basement.

basically nobody ever consulted the print journals bcos 99% of stuff undergrads would be looking up is online these days so every time i went down there it was dead fucking silent & empty. you had to walk through what felt like several miles of empty basement to reach the collection, which was in a room w a photocopier shoved in the corner and a bunch of these:

u turn the handles to move these around (saves space) and every time you had to go and check the aisles first on the offchance that someone was in there so they wouldn't get u know. Compacted.

many years ago i did a week's work experience with the National Library of Scotland. here it is:

but that's just the tip of the iceberg. it keeps going down the side of the bridge, like so:

i got a tour of the stacks while i was there. it's floor after floor of this:

the bookshelves are made of metal & i was treated to the 'fun fact' that the shelves are, bizarrely, load bearing. for this reason they have to be constantly vigilant about fire hazards because even a relatively small fire could cause a bookcase to buckle from the heat, which in turn could cause the whole building to collapse in on itself like a house of cards.

this has haunted me ever since!! thank you.

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redgoldsparks · 6 months

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I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood.

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life.

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!"

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why?

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined.

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks."

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017)

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot:

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism

*The government cannot be trusted

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper?

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

#harry potter #harry potter and the problematic author #jk rowling #transphobia #jk rowling transphobic

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kendsleyauthor · 6 months

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✨Forlorn + Delight✨

Promptober 2023

Print / Trinket Universe (Xander and Grayson)

~2000 words

A sequel to Rabbit. The aftermath of Xander kissing Grayson isn't all sunshine and rainbows-- at least not a first. 😉

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Just ‘cause.

Those two words pulsed through Grayson like poison—Xander’s off-handed explanation for his viciously protective behavior. Just ‘cause. Sealed with a kiss. Twenty-four hours later, Grayson couldn’t settle on precisely how to feel.

Enthralled? Insulted? Terrified? Starving for more.

“Grayson?” Everly waved a hand in front of his face.

They were sharing a snack on the metal rigging high above the stage. The chunk of soft pretzel had gone cold by the time they reached the top of the rigging, but the privacy was unmatched. More and more these days, truly taking a breather meant finding a spot where no humans could bother them.

Everly cocked her head at Grayson, chewing thoughtfully. There were circles under her eyes—more than usual. “Are you okay?” she asked before he could ask her the same.

Grayson eyed their surroundings. The stage looked impossibly small down below compared to the enormity of the stadium. Tomorrow night, the venue would be packed with nearly a hundred thousand screaming people. His throat tightened at the thought that he might not stick around to witness it.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Grayson wasn’t sure how he managed to form the words, but there they were. Out in the open for Everly to gape over.

“What?” she breathed. “What do you mean?”

“I…” He pursed his lips, the words eluding him now. “I never should have stuck around this long. That was a mistake.”

“What are you talking about?” Voice shaking, Everly set her food aside and leaned closer to him. “We need you. Everything you’ve done to keep the Rebellion fund hidden—it’s incredible. No one else can do that.” Her breaths quickened. “What happened? Are we in danger? Grayson, talk to me.”

He put a hand on her arm to calm her. “It’s nothing like that,” he said hurriedly. “It’s… it’s him.”

She frowned, faint understanding flooding her features. “What did he do?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, but her tone sharpened like a vengeful blade.

Grayson was briefly entertained by the mental image of Everly luring Xander to her level so she could deck him across the face. He nearly laughed. No, it was more likely she’d have Micah do the honors. He’d never say no to her. Hell, Micah might even punch Xander of his own accord if he knew Grayson’s feelings were being toyed with.

“He didn’t hurt me,” Grayson said. “I just… can’t be around him anymore.”

“You don’t have to share his room,” she said hurriedly. “We’ll figure out another arrangement.”

“He’ll still be around,” Grayson muttered.

Her shoulders slumped. The mourning in her gaze was unmistakable. While she was desperate to keep the Rebellion fund strong, he knew she was already imagining what it would be like to not have another print on the tour with her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, squeezing his hand on her arm. “I thought… I thought he was safe. Micah said he trusted him with his life. After all this time together, I thought you trusted him, too.”

“I did. It got messy.”

Fresh guilt sparkled in her eyes. “Please, will you just… just finish out the tour? Everything will fall apart if you leave suddenly. At least think about it.”

He sighed. He felt so silly, putting his own lovesick feelings above the work of the Rebellion. But he could focus while Xander loomed in the background. If anything, the funding might be even more airtight if he managed the money remotely.

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured, though he’d already made up his mind. “Can I bunk with you tonight?”

“Of course. Do you want me to go with you to get your things from Xander’s room?”

“No. I’ve got it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The upside to having a sulky image was that no one questioned when he decided to hole himself up on the bus all day. Xander stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. Photographers would be crying into their pillow if they knew about the broody expression they were missing out on.

Stupid, he can’t stop thinking. Stupid, stupid stupid, why did you do it?

A ping indicated that the door was about to slide open, set off by a remote electronic key.

Grayson.

“Fuck,” Xander whispered, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t move, but he didn’t bother pretending to be asleep, either.

The door swished open. Small footsteps entered the room. Not a single word was spoken.

Xander had never been one to cave in a situation like that. Xander had never put himself in a situation like this.

“‘Bout time,” he muttered despite everything. He turned his head, searching the ground.

Grayson, wearing the same clothes from last night, climbed the steps to the desk beside the bed. He began gathering his belongings. Clothes, notes, sketches, and tiny circuits were scattered across one corner of the surface. Although Xander always muttered he was free to use the entire space, Grayson’s things never moved past an invisible line he had made for himself.

The sight of Grayson stuffing his things into bags made Xander’s heart stutter uncertainly.

“Where were you last night?” Xander asked.

“Backstage,” Grayson answered crisply. “Pulled an all-nighter.”

“You could’ve at least told me you’d be working all night to avoid me. I thought something had happened to you.”

“Something did happen to me.” Grayson threw him a side-eyed glare.

Guilt crawled beneath Xander’s skin, though he didn’t let his mask twitch. Had he completely misread the situation? He thought for sure that Grayson had feelings for him. Yet there he was, scowling and packing up his items like he couldn’t stand to be around Xander for a second longer.

Xander sat up, scoffing defensively. “So, you’d rather sleep on a crate backstage than come in here and talk about this?”

“You’re the one who walked away!” Grayson threw a shirt down into the gathered pile. “And besides—what’s there to talk about? It was a joke, wasn’t it?”

“A joke?” Suddenly, it began to make sense. Grayson assumed that Xander was leading him on. Xander’s face flushed—he hated when he had to spell things out for people. “You think I’d put myself at risk, kissing a print, for a joke?”

“You and Micah have made out on stage plenty of times. It’s all fun and games for you—kissing someone you don’t really want.”

“That was back when I didn’t give a fuck, and Micah would kiss anything with a pulse for attention. Before Everly.” Xander stared hard at Grayson and shifted his legs over the side of the bed to lean closer to the desk. “That’s got nothing to do with…” Us. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Us.

“Whatever it was, you didn’t mean it,” Grayson said resolutely.

“I don’t do anything unless I mean it.”

A wry laugh shook through Grayson. He tilted his head back to regard the ceiling. “I know you by this point, Xander. Even if you wanted that kiss, this isn’t going anywhere. Is it? You’re not going to put yourself in danger to make something out of this—whatever this is. Am I wrong?”

Xander was not prepared for the desolate look that was sent his way. Grayson had the exact same look in his eyes when Wyatt had broken up with him months ago. But Xander couldn’t bring himself to answer right away. Grayson was right, in some capacity. He wasn’t sure if he could live the same way that Micah and Everly did.

Grayson’s expression only dampened further. “I can’t do this anymore,” he announced quietly. “I’m going home. Wyatt will let me stay for a while, especially if I keep working on the Rebellion fund from the apartment.”

Blood running cold, Xander found himself at a loss for words all over again. He thought Grayson was only relocating his belongings to a different bus. Not that he was leaving the tour altogether.

Despite everything, Grayson was willing to go back to living with his ex, so long as it meant helping the cause.

He couldn’t recall a single time he’d seen Grayson make a decision that truly made him happy—and apparently, staying in proximity to Xander was the worse choice.

“You know what?” Xander blurted, frustration winning out. “It’s about fucking time. Micah never even asked me if I wanted to be your glorified bodyguard. Guess he figured that I already gripe so much, what’s one more thing?”

Grayson went absolutely rigid, then turned away. Even as he continued to pack, folding his shirts with meticulous detail, Xander kept a glare on him. He saw a tear slide down Grayson’s cheek, and he severely regretted every decision that had led to that tear.

“No… No, I’m sorry.” Xander swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just… I don’t know.”

“What happened to not doing anything unless you mean it?” Grayson snapped, his voice thick. His hands shook. “Why can’t you just say you were fucking around with me? Why do you have to make this so hard? It’ll be easier if you tell me that it meant nothing.”

Xander reached out, gently grasping one of Grayson’s hands to pull him away from the aimless motion of folding. Silence enveloped them as Grayson slowly lifted his gaze.

Xander didn’t have to close the distance. He didn’t have to lay his feelings out in the open. But he was doing it. Neither of them could chalk up this contact as a spur-of-the-moment reaction. His movements were slow, and delicate, unlike his split-second decision to kiss Grayson backstage.

He gave Grayson a gentle tug closer to the edge of the desk. It wasn’t a command, but an invitation.

Grayson shuffled forward, observing Xander with a guarded stare.

“Can I kiss you?” Xander asked softly.

The air charged between them. He looked squarely at Grayson, searching for any sign that he was too intimidated to say no. But the desire in his gaze was unmistakable, buried under layers of aggravation with Xander.

Grayson’s voice trembled. “Yes.”

Xander tilted his head and brushed his lips against Grayson’s cheek tenderly. From there, it was all too easy to cave into their hunger for each other. Grayson was less chaste, kissing Xander’s lips feverishly. For a moment, Xander held still for him, basking in Grayson’s affection.

They broke apart, eyes meeting. Everything else melted away, and all Xander wanted was more.

His hands surrounded Grayson, fingertips feeling along his body. Xander gently plucked up the hem of Grayson’s t-shirt. Grayson put up no resistance, raising his arms. The moment his shirt was discarded, Xander promptly closed the space again and began kissing his torso. He swept his hands behind Grayson, transporting him to one of the pillows on the bed.

Grayson fell back on the plush surface, breaths heavy and eyes fluttering shut. Xander crushed his lips against Grayson’s chest, acutely aware of the tiny heartbeat fluttering maniacally under his kisses.

“Still think this is a joke?” Xander asked, his breath hot against Grayson’s skin.

He expected a quip in return. Instead, Grayson croaked, “Is this anything? Can this be anything?”

Pausing, Xander pushed himself up on his arms and looked down at his pillow. Grayson looked utterly vulnerable laying there—and it had nothing to do with his size. His eyes begged for a clear answer, desperate to not have his heart broken again.

“Do we have to decide right now?” Xander murmured, annoyed by the cowardice that held him back from a clear answer.

Disappointment filled Grayson’s dark eyes. “But if I leave…”

Shuddering, Xander leaned down. He could have easily smothered Grayson’s uncertainty with more kisses, but he nuzzled his face against Grayson’s body instead.

“Don’t leave,” Xander whispered.

His hope dwindled with each passing second of silence.

And then Grayson whispered back: “Okay.”

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saddayfordemocracy · 6 months

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How the Watermelon Became a Symbol of Palestinian Solidarity

The use of the watermelon as a Palestinian symbol is not new. It first emerged after the Six-day War in 1967, when Israel seized control of the West Bank and Gaza, and annexed East Jerusalem. At the time, the Israeli government made public displays of the Palestinian flag a criminal offense in Gaza and the West Bank.

To circumvent the ban, Palestinians began using the watermelon because, when cut open, the fruit bears the national colors of the Palestinian flag—red, black, white, and green.

The Israeli government didn't just crack down on the flag. Artist Sliman Mansour told The National in 2021 that Israeli officials in 1980 shut down an exhibition at 79 Gallery in Ramallah featuring his work and others, including Nabil Anani and Issam Badrl. “They told us that painting the Palestinian flag was forbidden, but also the colors were forbidden. So Issam said, ‘What if I were to make a flower of red, green, black and white?’, to which the officer replied angrily, ‘It will be confiscated. Even if you paint a watermelon, it will be confiscated,’” Mansour told the outlet.

Israel lifted the ban on the Palestinian flag in 1993, as part of the Oslo Accords, which entailed mutual recognition by Israel and the Palestinian Liberation Organization and were the first formal agreements to try to resolve the decades-long Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The flag was accepted as representing the Palestinian Authority, which would administer Gaza and the West Bank.

In the wake of the accords, the New York Times nodded to the role of watermelon as a stand-in symbol during the flag ban. “In the Gaza Strip, where young men were once arrested for carrying sliced watermelons—thus displaying the red, black and green Palestinian colors—soldiers stand by, blasé, as processions march by waving the once-banned flag,” wrote Times journalist John Kifner.

In 2007, just after the Second Intifada, artist Khaled Hourani created The Story of the Watermelon for a book entitled Subjective Atlas of Palestine. In 2013, he isolated one print and named it The Colours of the Palestinian Flag, which has since been seen by people across the globe.

The use of the watermelon as a symbol resurged in 2021, following an Israeli court ruling that Palestinian families based in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood in East Jerusalem would be evicted from their homes to make way for settlers.

The watermelon symbol today:

In January, Israel’s National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir gave police the power to confiscate Palestinian flags. This was later followed by a June vote on a bill to ban people from displaying the flag at state-funded institutions, including universities. (The bill passed preliminary approval but the government later collapsed.)

In June, Zazim, an Arab-Israeli community organization, launched a campaign to protest against the ensuing arrests and confiscation of flags. Images of watermelons were plastered on to 16 taxis operating in Tel Aviv, with the accompanying text reading, “This is not a Palestinian flag.”

“Our message to the government is clear: we will always find a way to circumvent any absurd ban and we will not stop fighting for freedom of expression and democracy,” said Zazim director Raluca Ganea.

Amal Saad, a Palestinian from Haifa who worked on the Zazim campaign, told Al-Jazeera they had a clear message: “If you want to stop us, we’ll find another way to express ourselves.”

Words courtesy of BY ARMANI SYED / TIME

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anachrosims · 7 months

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[TS4CC] DARK ACADEMIA: PART 2!

HELLO again! I am proud, SO proud to present Part 2 of my Dark Academia series! (Part 1 is available already.)

I have ONE more Dark Academia set on the way, but for now, please come enjoy a set full of dozens if not hundreds of swatches of matching furniture and luxurious decor. This set also pairs extremely well with some of my other sets like Dark Academia Part 1, Country Manor, 18th Century Campaign, my Historical Recolors series, and Gorgeous Georgians.

Pick and choose your item(s) or just download the whole set in a zip.

Enjoy!~

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->GET IT HERE @ PATREON! EARLY ACCESS, AVAILABLE AUTOMATICALLY ON SEPTEMBER 27th 2023!<-

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@maxismatchccworld / @emilyccfinds / @mmfinds / @ts4history

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[ITEM LIST, NOTES & POLYCOUNTS UNDER THE CUT!]

NOTES:

All are BGC unless otherwise noted.

Items where polycount is not listed are just genuine recolors.

All items have their texture maps, shadows, and LODs.

Surface items have SLOTS!

All items have been tested IN GAME.

TOU:

Standard, usual TOU applies-- No Simsd*m, no Simsf*nds, do NOT put this behind paywalls. Feel free to include these items in build folders as long as they are not paywalled. Feel free to use textures/meshes as bases, provided you give credit & link back to my simblr and/or Patreon page.

WHAT YOU GET:

Dark Revival Wallpapers

Evening Hours Wallpapers

Storied Halls Polished Oak Walls

Historically Preserved Plaster Walls

Grand Old Flagstone Floors

Just Scraping By Wood Floors

Book Club Chair (Requires Cottage Living)

Hushed Tones Elegant Bench (1126 polys/1460 verts)

Hushed Tones Elegant Stool (1058 polys/1420 verts)

Grandfather Lamp (Requires University)

Anchor Replica (2406 polys/2401 verts)

Baron Von Butte Bust (736 polys/691 verts)

Chess Mate! (328 polys/521 verts)

Immodest Desktop Pedestal (56 polys/112 verts)

Magnificent Magnifier (370 polys/454 verts)

Model of the Astral Locale (508 polys/530 verts)

Mysterious Ancient Sculpture (958 polys/560 verts)

Skull Specimen (148 polys/157 verts)

Walk Don't Runner Rugs (3x1, 4x1, 5x5)

Forbidden File Cabinet of Mystery (770 polys/912 verts)

Hallowed Hall Halved Desk (878 polys/1232 verts)

Modicum of Modesty Dresser (710 polys/792 verts)

Bonefish (278 polys/282 verts)

Dark Botannical Prints

Observer Shadowbox (94 polys/96 verts)

Scenes & Sims Paintings (V1) (390 polys/416 verts)

Scroll of Knowledge (Vertical) (420 polys/582 verts)

#historical sims #historical sims 4 #ts4cc #s4cc #sims 4 custom content #dark academia sims 4 #sims 4 cc #ts4 custom content #my cc

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soracities · 2 months

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"Conclusions: reading, then, is a crucial act of resistance.

Not the only way, or the primary way, but a mode of literacy we must not negate or shy away from. Reading and writing are disciplines distinct from other forms of literacy: aural and oral proficiency (speaking and listening), media literacy (video watching, noticing), financial literacy, social literacy, numerical literacy (shoutout to the baddies with math anxiety rooted in the same oppressive upbringings). There are histories, blueprints, stories we can only access through the pages they’ve been printed on. If that was not important, we would not lock university libraries behind several hundred thousand dollars paywalls. If there was not agency and power to be found in reading, the empire would not work so hard to burn your hands away. If video learning is truly as harmless and neutral as we think, why are there screens everywhere in this world? Why are there so much advertisements, so much incentives, to spend all day looking at someone else making you feel?

—Ismatu Gwendolyn, "you've been traumatized into hating reading (and it makes you easier to oppress)", from Threadings, on Substack (bolded italics my edit)

#q #lit #quotes #essays and articles #ismatu gwendolyn #youve been traumatized into hating reading and it makes you easier to oppress #threadings #on books and reading #m #x

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popquizhot-shot · 10 months

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Father Mine- 2. Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!reader

Just note- this and father mine aren’t in the canon of Miguel’s and mini Miguel’s story line<3 also this is absolute crap and I’m so sorry it has a lot more plot and less of Miguel and mini Miguel interaction. Though whatever they do have is pain. (ALSO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE I LOVE ALL OF YOU) please comment and reblog if you liked it :DD

Warnings: angst. FATHER MINE PART 1 Part 3

“Where is she?” He asks Jess.

“She didn’t follow.” Is what the woman replies and that’s that.

A spark of worry shoots through him but he ignores it. Now is not the time to worry about anything but the anomaly.

He scans his surroundings and tries to look for wherever the kid may be.

A part of his mind still screams he’s just a kid.

That weak thinking, letting things slide mindset was ahat got Gabriella killed. It was what killed an entire universe. He couldn’t let more people be killed for the sake of the life of one man.

“Split up. Look for him.” He orders Ben and Jess and they leave promptly.

Not now. Not now. He’d check up on you after.

——————

“Miles!” You whisper-shout at the boy.

He almost shouts but you cover his mouth with your hand, “you’re in the wrong universe, you’re on earth-42.” His eyes widen, “I’m here to help you.”

“Why should I trust you?” His eyes narrow at you.

“I don’t know.” You look down, “But I’m asking you to trust me anyways.”

After a beat of silence he talks, “how did you know I was in the wrong universe?”

“You were bit by a spider that was from here. It’s venom altered your dna to this universe. And the go home machine scanned your dna, which was this universes and sent you here, I’m running out of breath and I can hear your mom from this univers walking here so let’s please just go.” You pull him out through the window just as the door opens and Rio steps in.

You and Miles drop down into an abandoned alleyway, and you hide a wince because of the pain in your leg. He turns invisible and you open a portal. Just as he walks through, Ben comes into view and sees you.

“Mini Miguel! You’re here! You know your dad was pretty worried you didn’t show! I’ll tell him you’re here wait- I” you web his mouth and eyes and as he flails about you launch yourself upwards and unhook his watch.

“I’m sorry, Ben.” You apologise to his mumbling form as his hands thrash around to remove the webs.

You jump into the portal and it closes.

“We’re in Miguel’s APARTMENT?” Miles’s all but shrieks and you wince.

“Jeez, bro. Don’t worry. He won’t look here.” You hand him a bottle of water from the minibar.

He drinks it all in one go and breathes deeply. You calm him down, “this is just for a few hours. Then I’ll shift you to your own universe.”

“Why not now?” He asks.

“You need to eat, and you’ll be fine. No one’s going to be named Captain tonight right? You can’t help anyone if you’re half dead.”

He clenches his jaw and sits down as you go to the kitchen and get a leftover pizza from the fridge. It was from that family night you had with Miguel and Lyla the day before Miles’s arrival.

You head to the living room after heating his food and his eyes are transfixed on a photo frame in his hand.

It’s a photo of you and him that Lyla had managed to sneak and Jess had printed for your birthday.

“He seems nice. When he’s not trying to kill me.” The boy scoffs.

You don’t answer, just handing him his food.

He eats in silence and you take the time to clean the house. Even if you did hate him just a bit, it didn’t mean he deserved to live in a messy house because he was too busy working.

“You really love him, huh?” Miles piped up and you look up from fluffing a cushion.

“Hmm.” You hum in response, “I don’t know.”

“If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here fluffing up his cushions and cleaning his home. Or should I say your home as well.” He raises an eyebrow.

You throw the cushion, “his home. Come on, we need to get to his office so I know what universe you’re from.”

He follows you to the window and has to swallow a gasp when you walk through it and float like you’re walking on air.

You chuckle, “it’s an illusion, sort of like that Indiana Jones movie.”

“The thing with the grail?” His voice is shaky as his foot comes to rest onto the platform connecting the window to the opposite balcony.

“Yeah, I got it made to fuck with Miguel.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I bet he would have freaked out?”

“You have no idea.” You smile a little at the memory as you jump of the platform and land lightly on the terrace.

Every few minutes you usher Miles into the few dark alleyways in the futuristic city of Nueva York to use the hidden pathways that are used by the underground thug gangs that you had managed to sniff out.

It takes about half an hour to reach the tower, and Miles turns invisible, “you couldn’t have done that before?” You raise an eyebrow.

He just looks sheepish and you try not to roll your eyes, “come on.”

He follows you through the entire area, sees them all wave and smile at you as you walk to where spider-byte may be.

——-

“Ben, come in.” Miguel speaks, “Ben!”

With a groan, he phones Lyla. She picks up immediately and her voice is frantic, “you need to get back. Now.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s Miles.” She informs him, “mini you is with him.”

His eyes widen under the mask and without a word he opens a portal to go home, “Jess. We’re going back to base.”

————————

“1610. Earth 1610.” You recite as you make a portal.

As soon as it opens, the door to the room swings open.

It’s a sort of déjà vu if you think about it.

The same room, the same scenario. But this time it’s you he’s after.

Your blood runs cold and you push Miles inside, “save your dad.” Are the last words you say to him as the portal closes in time just as Miguel pounces through air.

He looks at you and you freeze. His eyes are red and his fangs are out.

As he stands to his feet, your breathing becomes uneven.

Fuck you’re panicking. And it’s weird, because you’ve faced evil villains before. You’ve fought people that make Miguel look like a shortie.

So.. why the fuck are you so scared? Or were you always just a coward?

“You’re hurt.” He says in an eerily calm voice.

“Why-why do you care?” You huff out and his eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean?” He raises his hand and you flinch. You notice the way his eyes widen and the hurt that floods the pools of his eyes.

He takes another step forward and you back away, “Stay the fuck away from me.” Your hand shoots forward. Only widening the chasm between the both of you.

“What. Happened? Who hurt you? Was it Miles? Did he force you to help him?” He snarls.

You stare at him dumbfounded, “Who hurt me? Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You scoff, “I helped him of my own accord.”

It’s then that he takes a deep breath and a step back.

“That’s right. I helped him get away!”

“….how could you do this to us? To me?” He points to himself.

“What are you going to do now? Try and kill me like you did him?”

“I would never. I am your father-”

“You are a selfish monster.” You say and his breath hitches. The look on his face breaks your own heart and all you want to do is hug him.

“Don’t say that.” He points at you, “you don’t mean it.”

“I meant every damn word.” You scowl and reply, “you are not my father. I am not your daughter.”

He schools the hurt on his face, “So be it.” He webs your watch and breaks it into tiny pieces in a matter of moments, “it’s cute that you thought you could one up me. Really.” He chuckles, “You are relieved of your duties effective immediately. You will never be allowed into Earth-928 or any other dimension hereafter.”

He webs you closer to him as he opens a portal into some obscure universe, one you’ve never heard of, and just before he pushes you in, you glimpse the tears in his eyes, your own running down your cheek as you scream profanities at him.

The last thing you see is his face before you’re thrown into complete darkness.

#miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #mini miguel<33 #atsv #atsv x reader

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