#THANK YOU AGAIN IT MEANS THE WORLD TO HEAR THIS ESPECIALLY ON MY TERRIBLE NO GOOD VERY BAD EYE DAY it does not really hurt now so. yay. :) Tumblr posts

[whoslaurapalmer]

okay so, lindsay lohan was on the tonight show with jimmy fallon, but more importantly, she did a parent trap skit to announce her guest star status, which led me to rereading your parent trap au, and well, here i am to sing your praises — ahhhhhh i adore it !! it’s so good. better than oreos good. the dynamics between so many different characters, dynamics that you’re able to explore !! not constrained by canon !! (three favorites : the standouts, kit and bernadette 💕, and bertrand and klaus, but specifically when klaus is really violet, AND THE ATLAS, and then there’s something so sweet and lovely about b,r, and o as a trio and i love them omg) but also stay true to their original characterizations. i always like how you write lemony, your voice for him fits just right, like a favorite pair of shoes, but he’s particularly good in this. i love the image of him in a theater, doing a book reading. it’s so mr snicket. and b and b and l ??? all together ??? the candy grams ??! the censored candy grams ?!!? iconic. i love how bertrand couldn’t be as horrid as meredith blake, so there’s no other way but a happy ending, and i love how violet and klaus would accept nothing less. i love how it is bits and pieces and asides, it feels right, like a scrapbook of the summer their parents got together, and stayed that way. 💕 lovely work all around !!!

awww thank you lainey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i always love hearing about people rereading parent trap au 💖💖 any fic. all of my fic. but especially parent trap au. it warms my heart. my soul. i gain many levels of power when people want to talk about parent trap au. it is so silly and so so precious to me and was such a rambling whim and is so unstructured but so many people have seen the heart i wanted in it. yes i DID just watch it again the other day. i love that people still find it as delightful as i hoped!! and oh that skit was fun!!

i am always very very proud of how i made bernadette in this alt universe 💖 i always think i did a great job there and no regrets at all on the most cryptic, most determined little bean. and getting to write kit as a mother....................

THE ATLAS IS A PARTICULAR FAVORITE OF MINE TOO i love the intent behind the atlas. bertrand just wants to be considerate and respectful of his girlfriend's small child. i love how violet is impressed. i love how you could kill a man with it. i myself like to look at heavy objects and wonder if you could, in fact, kill a man with it. also it's really funny that bea shares the sentiment. anyway i was imagining it as like, a deep navy blue with gold and silver???? like in little sparkly sections on the cover but also the pages!!!! with fancy borders and shiny spots and just. fun maps.

i do have regrets that ramona and olivia kind of drop out of the fic at the end bc they're so good and deserve to be part of this family still, i just couldn't imagine them leaving california. maybe they visit, though......and honestly the three of them raising klaus was something i did NOT do enough with. or ramona's mother. or olivia's eclairs!!!!!!!! klaus should've brought some of the eclairs anyway. packed them with a couple ice packs so they'd keep. eat them the first night of camp, in the dead of night, joyously.

i frequently and fondly think of 'they censored my loving sonnet about your ass but they still sent it!' with bea's candygram. teenagers with candygrams is such a hilarious mess. just, the commitment. the shenanigans. it's delightful and deeply embarrassing to look back on.

lemony is one of my favorite povs to do and i don't really like to say that he comes very easily to me bc. i mean, uh, technically, at the end of the day, he is not mine, and i will of course never get the perfect lemony voice that danhan has (and actually when i'm not in his head i struggle a lot to get his dialogue right) but i do think i do a very good lemony voice and he is one of the easiest character voices for me to write (bc he has a structure! he has a vibe! you know where you stand with him!!!!! you get to do neat things in his narration!!!!) and he's very fun to do. characterization is something that, AS ALWAYS i say this so much but god it's just always very big on my mind, i work very hard on and stress a lot about, especially on the occasion i Do Stray A Little Far From Canon, and it's something i am very critical about, so when people think i do it well it's very 💖💖

also i frequently and fondly think of 'haircuts are things that happen, at one time or another, to all of us.' speaking of lemony. god what a guy.

oh i LOVE the idea of it feeling like a scrapbook oh that's so perfect!!!!! what a homey and cozy thought!!!!!! like the pictures of nick and elizabeth's wedding in the credits.......oh i love it so much. violet and klaus put the taped-up wedding photo at the beginning of the book and then at the end is the new lemonberry ice wedding photo. although i don't actually really like the wedding gown elizabeth designs in the movie that has the photo shoot, bea is DEFINITELY at least wearing that veil/top hat combo in the new photo. that's so her vibe. it's an outside summer wedding. color scheme is lots of reds and pinks.......lemony and bertrand both wear white. bea's dress has a red waist ribbon. oooo wait or maybe it's one of those dresses with all the embroidered flowers all over??? i love those kinds of wedding dresses. bertrand cries through the whole thing. kit actually, genuinely cries too, once.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Playful prompts for tadc cast playing hide and seek with hider reader?

Awe this is a cute idea! (not including Caine bc I see him as the one organizing this game).

.........

Pomni

During her first week inside the Digital Circus, she's slowly adapting to everything...although she refuses to give up on finding an exit.

But when Caine forced everybody to play some hide n' seek, with you being the hider, she really doesn't want any part of it.

However you convinced her to play along, whispering that if she found you first, you'll share what you remembered from your old life as a "prize".

Although initially annoyed you wouldn't just tell her, she becomes motivated searching high and low, opening doors, looking down barrels, etc.

When she finally finds you (courtesy of a glitching object), she's anxious to hear what you had to say-

Unfortunately Caine decides to pop in and put on a big celebration for Pomni winning the game...which goes on the whole damn day up until everybody goes to bed that night.

You seemingly forgot what you were gonna tell her, to which she gets upset and angry that you gave her false hope, sulking in her room.

But you slide a note under her door, explaining that you only recently remembered your real name.

Suddenly she realizes that maybe her memories weren't 100% gone.

If you could suddenly remember your name, then....surely she can, too!

Gangle

After Jax was mean to her during the last hide n' seek game, you try cheering her up by playing another one.

It didn't involve Caine or anybody else. Just you two.

She mopes about being a terrible seeker. But since you're her best friend (and you promised her a prize), she'll go along if it makes you happy.

You decide to hide in spots that she would 100% think to check, deliberately allowing her to win.

Since she's all ribbons, it's easy for her to slink around and squeeze into tight spaces.

After finding you three times, she gets suspicious that you're purposefully going easy on her-

But she stops her accusations as you finally present her prize:

It's a brand new comedy mask!! Except this one wasn't made of porcelain or ceramic, instead being unbreakable material (or at least material that's couldn't casually be broken by anyone, especially Jax).

Gangle sobs with happiness before putting the mask on, squealing over how perfectly it fits, and hugging you tightly.

Thanks to you, she can finally feel joyful again!

Zooble

They'd rather do anything else....

But since this little hide n' seek "adventure" was all Caine's idea, she has no choice but to go along with it.

Even so, she puts the least amount effort into the game.

When you're the hider and she's the seeker, they just pray to whatever god is in this world (besides Caine) that you aren't anywhere in the Gloink cavern.

She'd rather not get discombobulated again.

Sometimes, she'll throw parts of herself in the direction where she thinks you're hiding, hoping to startle you into giving away your location so this dumb game can finally end.

Lucky for you, you know their tricks and keep quiet.

She doesn't expect any prizes (unless it's a limb that makes her body not look like a hot mess).

If they find you, she'll be like "yay I win..now I'm going back to my room" and saunter off.

Kinger

Like Zooble, he'd much rather do something else.

But he goes along with Caine's game anyways after you enticed him into playing for a prize.

Whatever momentarily stops his sanity from spiraling, I guess.

He searches high and low, getting nervous when he can't find you anywhere in the places he'd 100% expect you to be.

Lowkey starts to wonder if something terrible actually happened to you--like if you were trapped and not even Caine could help you.

The last place he could think of was your room but.....he doesn't have your key.

At the same time, he knew you weren't a cheater. You wouldn't hide somewhere that nobody else (except Jax) could access!

In the end, he goes back to his fort to sulk, openly declaring that you've won the game.

As it turns out, you chose to hide in that same fort, and you jump out with a grin, feeling victorious.

Kinger just stares at you for a solid 10 seconds.....before he suddenly screams and asks why tf you were in there.

You feel bad for scaring him, so you reward him for at least trying: a jar with a caterpillar currently wrapped up in a chrysalis.

He LOVES it, but now he carries around the jar every second of the day, staring at it until the little bug hatches.

At least now he has a reason not to fall off the deep end just yet.

Jax

Hide n' seek is like child's play to him.

Somehow this cheeky bastard knows exactly where you're hiding no matter what, even if it's outside the tent (like at the lake or fair).

It's definitely tarnishing your reputation as the best "hider" out of all of the gang.

When you ask him how tf he knew, he just shrugs and says "you're too predictable, try a better spot next time".

Hiding in your room is definitely not an option, as he's stolen your key (and would point out that would be cheating if someone else was the seeker instead)--so there truly is no place to hide.

Like Zooble, he's not in it for some prize.

It is, however, quite rewarding seeing you get so frustrated when he effortlessly finds you.

And that's enough for him

If it's a game involving everyone, then he just straight-up mocks the others for not realizing the very obvious spot (or at least to him it was obvious) you were hiding in.

Ragatha

She's probably the most enthusiastic about Hide n' seek (like you have mentioned, it's a good distraction from the stresses of being stuck in this virtual world).

Is also a fair and honest player, never once peeking while she counts to 10.

Like Pomni, she does her best to find you first, searching places she knows you frequent--or mentioned liking in the past.

But you're definitely the best hider out of everyone, so it's a little challenging.

Still, she refuses to give up!

When she does successfully find you, you and Caine decided that she should get a prize for being such a great seeker.

It's her very own centipede-repellent spray bottle.

While it won't stop Jax from trying to sneak those little pests into her room, the mist will deter them from coming near her at all and help her conquer her fear.

She's forever grateful and sprays it around her bed every night before she sleeps.

Oh, and she'll definitely threaten Jax with it if he even mentioned centipedes around her.

[overtake]

I’m sorry we need about 5k more words of mechanic Daniel driver max pls and ty!!!

Part One

I’m actually so shocked (but pleasantly surprised and honored!) by people enjoying this verse because I almost deleted it without posting. I don’t have 5k more, but I can offer 1.2k!

I still lowkey hate this - and you can definitely tell I have no vision for where this story would go, hence why it’s just harping on the same 3 details we already knew - but it’s all yours and I hope you have a good time reading it anyway :)

Five minutes into pretending to examine an engine instead of obsess over what Max said, Daniel breaks.

“Did you mention me to Max?” he asks Cyril, trying to come across casual.

Cyril looks at him disbelievingly. “Max Verstappen is in our garage and you think I talked about you at all?”

Daniel lifts a hand to his chest and feigns being shot. “People love me, you know. Guys are all over this.”

Cyril heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “Get to work, Daniel.”

Daniel’s lucky, given his condition, that everything is relatively routine today. He does three oil changes, and he could kiss those people’s feet for it.

He’s mentally preparing himself to slide under a car, wincing at much more congested he’ll be once he emerges again, when Max suddenly appears in the corner of the garage.

“Hello,” he says. He does a cute little half-wave to get Daniel’s attention.

“Hey,” Daniel says, straightening and rubbing his grimy hands on his thighs. “Cyril’s working on your car, so he’ll have any updates you need.”

“It’s not my car, just a rental,” Max dismisses. “No, I just have …” He cuts himself off, turns a sweet pink on the apples of his cheeks. “You sounded sick earlier and looked really pale. I brought you soup.”

He lifts a takeaway bag from the cafe down the street, which usually specializes in ten dollar lattes and sandwiches with names so cutesy, you have to practice five times to order without shame.

Daniel smiles at the idea of Max Verstappen, world champion, saying one of those horrible names for Daniel’s benefit. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you. Let me pay you back.”

Max shakes his head. “It’s my thanks for fixing the car.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “So what soup did you get Cyril, who’s actually doing that?”

Max scrunches his nose in disgust. “You cannot expect me to say the name Noodle Nest Paradise more than one time.”

“How many times did you laugh trying to get that out?”

Max shudders. “I pretended to speak really bad English and just pointed at the menu.”

“So you could’ve ordered multiple,” Daniel points out. Max very blatantly pretends not to hear. He focuses instead on pulling a little bag from the order and holding it up proudly, smiling a crinkly-eyed smile.

“I got you crackers!”

Eating soup with Max Verstappen is an out of body experience.

Daniel’s been eating his soup over the coffee table in the office because it felt wrong to make Max sit at the grimy, wobbly table in the closet-sized corner of the garage where Daniel and Cyril usually change and scarf down meals. This, however, means they’re stuck together on the loveseat. Max’s expensive skinny jeans knock knees with Daniel’s greasy coveralls when they get too into the conversation.

Daniel knows he’s being a terrible conversationalist, especially at first. His normal easy charisma is buried somewhere in the pile of tissues he’s burning through. He’s basically just answering Max’s rapid-fire questions about his life, his job, his family, his non-existent partner (“do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?” Max had asked, and looked remarkably pleased by Daniel’s answer of no).

Daniel’s about 87% sure he’s being hit on right now. It’s a nice confidence booster given how much of a mess he looks, but it’s not like it matters. Max is Max, and Max is F1, and Max doesn’t live here.

He likes Max, though, the longer they talk. He likes his eagerness, his down-to-earth nature, his total lack of interest in discussing racing. Max delights in all Daniel’s behaviours that usually make people roll their eyes and wait for him to be done, whereas Max leans into Daniel’s dumb songs or drawn out jokes. He likes the long lashes that frame Max’s bright, happy eyes, and soft double chin he gets when he ducks his head into his laugh.

Daniel’s not sure how much time passes before Cyril comes in, but he knows his voice has faded to practically nothing, and he’s having to constantly turn to avoid coughing on Max.

Cyril’s timing is rather unfortunate, entering just as Daniel breaks into a particularly rough wheeze. Max is patting his back gently, which Cyril will definitely have words about later. Presently, however, he seems too concerned about Daniel’s wellbeing to lecture him about appropriate contact with famous customers.

“Daniel. Go home,” he orders, voice kind but firm. His tone leaves no room for argument, not that Daniel really wants to fight him on it. He’s enjoying this, but his brain and body feel as if they’re wading through a pool of thick custard.

“Are you okay to drive?” Max checks. His eyebrows are knitted in sweet concern, like Daniel actually might keel over and die in the ten-minute ride home.

“All good,” Daniel promises. He stands, then promptly has to collapse back onto the couch when black spots dot his vision.

“I’m driving you,” Cyril says firmly.

“I just stood up too fast.” Sure, he’s a little woozier than expected, but he could do this drive blindfolded and half-dead.

“I’ll drive you,” Max says. “I mean, Cyril has work to do, but I’m just sitting here.”

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me or steal my car?” Daniel rasps.

“He’s not worth kidnapping, and selling his car probably couldn’t cover an oil change for the kinds of cars you drive,” Cyril informs Max. He ignores Daniel’s protests, then pushes Daniel back down to the couch when he half-rises from it.

“Stay. I will get your keys and bag.”

The second Daniel’s brain understands that he’s off-duty, that it’s no longer expected to carry him through the day, it mostly blacks out, and everything is a blur from there.

He’s pretty confident Cyril steals his phone to call his mum, which is vaguely embarrassing but perhaps necessary given his current state. He knows Cyril gives Max directions to Daniel’s parents’ place instead of his own. He feels Max’s hands help him into the passenger seat, and he definitely mutters some fever-addled sentences on the drive. That’s about all he remembers until he wakes up in his childhood bed, shivering and sweating while his mum runs a hand through his hair and forces medicine down his throat, before he falls back asleep again.

When he finally comes to enough to make his way downstairs, he finds his parents seated at the kitchen table. His mum jumps up, forces him into a chair and fusses over him while simultaneously lecturing him about going to work sick. His dad just sits there, eyebrows half-raised, until Daniel is settled with food and water.

“So. You had an exciting day at work.”

He slides a piece of scrap paper across the table. There, under some advertisement for gardening services, is a scrawled message in red pen:

It was lovely to meet you (again). I hope the terribly named soup made you feel better! :)

- Max

Under his name, Max has scrawled a phone number.

Daniel runs his finger over the lines, feeling the imprint of each number that Max etched into the paper. It’s neatly written, far more cautious and intentional than the rest of the words, as if to ensure that no digit could be misread or smudged.

Daniel pauses, processes the full note, and double backs to the word ‘again.’

“Yeah,” Daniel croaks through the stabbing pains in his throat. He stares at the word harder, like it might reveal what the fuck Max means by again. “I guess today was pretty interesting.”

[nathaslosthershit]

Unremarkable (LN4)

(Part 2 of the Blind Items series)

Summary: Blind Items returns again to ruin yet another happy couple's peace. This time, Lando Norris and his ‘unremarkable’ girlfriend.

“Lando, have you seen this?” his girlfriend asked, showing him the tweets. When they had soft launched, she got a small dose of what it would be like to be the WAG of Lando Norris. But even when they hadn’t known anything about her, some people still had been so mean. Now that they knew she had a ‘commoner’ job, they had started tearing her to shreds. ‘How could someone so rich and famous go for such a plain girl’ was what so many people had said. 

“Oscar showed it to me today. I am so sorry, honey, I was hoping that you wouldn’t have seen it. Those people are absolute asses, love.” He probably should have said something earlier but he knew how hard she would take it. While she had joked in the past about the differences in their jobs, especially the pay, he knew she felt insecure about it at times. 

“The thing is, I didn’t see it. Not at first. I only saw it when I heard one of my students talking about it in class today. Can you even imagine how humiliating that was for me? Hearing my own students who I have done nothing but be kind and understanding to, trying to get them to love learning, talk about how awful it is their favorite driver is dating someone as boring as a teacher.” She couldn’t stop the tears as she went on about the situation. He wouldn’t understand, he couldn’t. She knew Lando had his moments of insecurity but nothing like this. At the end of the day, he still had hundreds upon thousands of fans who loved him immensely. 

Even if he couldn’t fully understand, it still broke his heart seeing how much it hurt her. Sure, he hadn’t ever thought he would date a school teacher either, but that was mostly due to his previous lack of appreciation for school. But being with her has changed that. His girlfriend could always make things interesting. She loved to spout history facts on vacation and it always made him so deliriously happy to see how giddy she was to learn new things. 

Seeing her now though, so visibly upset made him realize this wasn’t something that could slide easily. His PR team might not love it but he wasn’t going to just sit there and let her feel terrible about herself.

“I’ll fix this, I promise.” He said quickly as he left. He shouldn’t have left her alone and crying, but he was fuming and decided he needed that anger to let his message out. 

landonorris

Liked by oscarpiastri and 153,137 others

landonorris I don’t know who this gossip page thinks they are but the last thing I will tolerate is someone hiding behind a screen telling the entire world that my girlfriend, who I love more than life itself, is ‘dull’ and ‘unremarkable’ because of her job. This is a woman who is smarter than 99% of the people I have ever interacted with, someone who spends so much of their time trying, and succeeding, to get kids to love learning. Even as someone who didn’t appreciate school as much as they should have, I would never have once thought school teachers were any of the negative things you have said. Luckily, here I am, happy with my amazing girlfriend who deserves the entire world, and I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to give it to her. 

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A few minutes later she came into the room, tears still staining her cheeks.

“Thank you Lando” she said as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. 

“I can say more if you want? I definitely think I could have cursed them out mor-” He was cut off with a kiss. The sheer force of it caused them to bump heads a little, which then caused them to break apart giggling. “I’m serious about what I said. I don’t know what I did to get someone as wonderful as you but I am not going to let some assholes on the internet make you upset over something so incredible. You should be proud of what you do and I will forever work to remind you of how amazing you are.”

“I love you, Lando” was all she replied.

“I love you more”

“Please can we not play this game you know I love-”

“Nope, la-la-la-la I can’t hear you over the sound of me loving you soooo much” He said as he covered his ears.

Such a dork, she thought.

[marigold-hills]

@wolfstarmicrofic | August 25th: win | 1000 words

CW: attempted mugging, mentions of broken bones

Remus Lupin is well aware what he looks like: the wrong side of lanky, with a nasty scar across his face from falling off a bike at five, and a nastier one down his sternum from heart surgery at fifteen. Weak knees, weaker ankles. Breakable wrists. He surrounds himself in soft things, wears sweaters and cardigans even in the summer, when his varied blood deficiencies keep him cold in the heat.

He doesn’t usually go out in the dark. His library desk job keeps his work hours to a respectable 9-to-5, and he’s not one for bars, or clubs, or any other sort of entertainment that would require him to be out in the evening.

Today? Well, there was a book signing at the library. It run late, and he was having a nice chat with the writer, managing to keep his fan-boying to a minimum (it was the James Potter, after all). There was wine, which he doesn’t usually partake in. So: it’s well past his work hours, he’s pleasantly buzzed and on a high from a successful social interaction. Then he sees him.

It’s probably the most beautiful human specimen Remus’ has ever seen. He was stunning in the library, where he accompanied the James Potter for the signing, and he is just as lovely now, in the dim unflattering streetlamps. The hair, the bone structure, the shoulders. Everything about him made Remus decide not to say a single word to him, only gape half-open-mouthed and watch from across the room.

(Doing it now, as he as good as follows him down darkened South London streets, feels roughly stalkerish. Again, Remus knows what he looks like. He’s got too big ears and slightly too big front teeth and definitely too big a nose. He wouldn’t even try to talk to someone like this, not for all the embarrassment in the world.)

Remus is slower, especially with the crutch he has had to use since he broke his ankle a month earlier. His foot is still in the awkward boot-cuff. There should be no way of him catching up, so no chance of an interaction, successful or, more likely, otherwise.

Out of the shadows, appears a figure. Hooded, wide-shouldered, knife-wielding. The beautiful friend of James Potter doesn’t notice until the man is almost on him, knife pointed at the Nirvana logo on his T-shirt.

Remus can’t hear what’s said, but he doesn’t really need to. He’s lived in South London all his life, from Lambeth to Peckham - he’s seen his fair share of muggings.

Something comes over him. Maybe the late hour, maybe the wine. Maybe the impossible wrongness of a man so pretty being in such a situation. Whatever it is, before he even thinks about it, he’s somehow caught up.

Next thing he knows, he’s behind the mugger.

Next thing after that, the heavy, metal leg of his crutch makes heavy, violent contact with the side of the mugger’s head.

He falls to the ground in a heap of limbs and dark fabric and dropped knifes and for a terrible second Remus thinks:

“Fuck. I think I killed him.”

Through the wine-haze or adrenaline-haze, or maybe your-dodgy-heart-finally-gave-in-haze, he realises he said it out loud.

The pretty man leans down and checks the muggers head, then his pulse. “He’s fine. Well. He’s probably concussed. That was a mean hit,” he looks at Remus with something like appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Remus. Lucky you were here, or he’d have probably made off with my phone.”

“You know my name?” Remus asks rather dumbly. The answer is obvious and self evident because the man just said it.

“Of course I do. I’ve been watching you all night,” the cheekiest smile Remus has ever seen. The man prods the prone mugger with the tip of his shoe. “Who knew it’d take something like this to actually get you to talk to me.”

“Huh,” Remus says. (He has a degree in literature, he should really be able to string a sentence together with some intelligence, but apparently it has abandoned him.)

“Should probably call an ambulance.”

And that brings Remus out of his stupor. “You’re hurt?” He just stops himself from checking the man over, hands itching to reach out and feel for the damage.

“For this one. Can’t really leave him just lying on the side of the road.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

“And they’ll probably arrest him, while they’re at it. Win-win.”

“Silver linings.”

The man – Remus doesn’t know his name – laughs at that. It’s oddly dog like and on another person it’d be too much, too loud, but on him? Perfection. Remus wants to ask to record it. Maybe playing it in the evenings will cure his insomnia.

Adrenaline wearing off, Remus realises that his broken ankle hurts way more than it should. More than it has for a while. The same amount as…

“I’ve re-broken my ankle,” he doesn’t mean to blurt out loud. There’s immediate concern in the man’s face. Remus half-sits half-slumps down to the pavement. “Yup. I’m pretty sure I’ve re-broken my ankle. Fantastic.”

That’s what he gets for chasing down would-be-muggers down the streets of London. It’s probably some cosmic price to pay for hearing that laugh. It must be delirium: Remus thinks it’s worth it.

There are gentle hands on the side of his face, guiding it upward, and gentle eyes full on sincerity. “Thank you for helping me,” the man says again, “let’s get you to the hospital, alright?”

Through the pain-haze or wine-buzz-haze or maybe you-just-assaulted-someone-haze, Remus becomes shameless. “Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” the man says and the way he looks at Remus? Like he doesn’t have too-big ears and too-big a nose, or the scar, or the hair he can never get to behave.

Remus, more than shameless: “forever, then.”

The laugh he gets in return is somehow even better. There is nothing mocking about it. Instead, agreeable. “Alright. Forever.”

NOTES:

does this count as a meet-cute?

[brooooswriting]

Hi!! I love your writing, so how about prompt 9 and 16 with Nat?

9. “Don’t panic, but I think there’s someone in our house”

16. “Don’t touch me! GET OFF”

A/n: my first prompt writing, let me know what you think :)

You were laying in bed with your head on your girlfriends pillow and your guys cat curled up to you. Natasha was on a mission for the last two weeks and there were one and a half more to come. You hated it when she was gone, especially since you guys moved into such a secluded house, it felt extremely lonely there. But you loved the fact that your girlfriend was saving the world so you never said anything. It was around 2 a.m. now and you just couldn’t fall asleep, you tossed and turned around until Liho came and lays down next to you.

You were about to doze off when you heard a crack making you jump awake again. It was loud enough to be on the inside and you were 100% sure that you closed all the windows which meant that it couldn’t have been the wind. Another sound was heard from the first floor making you jump again before turning to the cat. “Don’t panic, but I think there’s somebody in our house” you mumbled to the blob of black fur next to you but only received a purring as a reply. “Great to hear that you’re also concerned” you rolled your eyes before standing up to investigate where the sound was coming from.

With your phone in hand you waddled downstairs, turning every light on that you had passed. Your phone was on call mode, Natasha contact already open, just in case. It was kinda funny to you how your first instinct was always calling her, not the police or Tony, who lived like 8 minutes away when he flew with his suit and was currently home. No, it was her because you only felt save when she was there.

You looked around and went through almost all the rooms but there was nobody. “Well, I guess it was my imagination then. Right?” You whispered to yourself. You decided to drink some water while you were already in the kitchen. With your back towards the door you looked outside the window, watching how the wind blew through the trees and a sense of calmness overtook you.

At least until you felt an arm around your waist. You immediately let go of the glass and yelped as you started to hit around yourself. “Don’t touch me! GET OFF” you screamed once you felt yourself being turned around. Terrible scenarios building in your mind as you cried out for them to let you go. As soon as you were turned the grip on you disappeared and you felt the person take a step back.

“It’s alright, it’s okay. It’s just me love” The moment you heard the voice you calmed down, taking a moment to breath before doing anything. It was the moment you also noticed that you had tears streaming down your face. She repeatedly mumbled reassuring phrases until you started to talk.

“You asshole! I thought somebody was going to kill me” you whisper screamed at her, hitting her with the kitchen towel that was behind you. She couldn’t help but giggle as you kept on hitting her with the fabric.

“Im sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you that bad. But it was kinda funny” she grinned and hugged you tightly, her hand rubbing your back while yours wrapped around your neck.

“Why are you here already?” You asked into her neck, your hand playing with the back of her shirt.

“What? Not enough time to hide your side chick?” She laughed as she squeezed your waist, making clear that she was joking. “We found the suspect sooner and I couldn’t wait to come home. Steve snores like 10 men” you giggled before placing a kiss on her neck.

“I’m happy you’re back, I really am but I’m so tired” you sighed and placed the side of your head on her shoulder. The next thing you let out was a yelp as your girlfriend picked you up and carried you up the stairs and placed you on the bed. “Thank you” you mumbled with a small smile as you went under the blanket.

You watched as the redhead greeted the cat before changing into some sleepwear. “Now move over, I gotta cuddle my girl. You’ve had her for the last two weeks” she said to Liho and poked his belly making him stand up and lay on your other side. “Thank you very much” you couldn’t help but laugh at their antics.

“I’m so happy you’re back” you whispered as you nearly laid on top of her.

“I’m happy to be back too” she placed a couple of kisses on your lips as her hand rubbed your bare back. You chased after her lips making her smile but keep kissing you nonetheless.

“I love you, but if you ever scare me like that again you’re sleeping on the couch”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good, now give a kiss and then cuddle me”

“Yes ma’am” you kissed again before you turned to your side so she could spoon you.

“I love you too by the way” she kissed the back of your neck before turning off the light to let you sleep.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Helloo!!! l have a small request that l was hoping you would do? Can you do Baldwin x reader angst , but the reader has long thick eyelashes like very thick because l have that and sometimes l get very insecure since every morning l get some eyelashes stuck ln my eye , when l cry they look hideously huge and long, and sometimes l cut half of lt but nothing works lt always grows back way more thicker, can you do lt like the reader cutting their eyelashes off while Baldwin finds out?..and how would lt be like being with him with that type of eyelashes 😭 lt would make me so happy 😭💕 love your content btw 💞

♧ Beautiful As You Are - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request, I love this idea. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Insecurity

Y/n was a modest woman. She never boasted about her looks or achievements and many admired her for it.

But deep down, this modesty was based solely around insecurity.

Despite her beauty, too many days of sitting in front of a mirror, questioning each and every inch of her face had rendered her terribly insecure about her appearance.

It had been this way since she was a child. But of all things that pained her to see, her eyelashes were what bothered her the most.

While many women would consider themselves blessed to have such long eyelashes, the young queen hated them.

To her, they looked horribly out of place. But to her husband? They were as perfect as the rest of her.

While Baldwin was aware of just how insecure his wife was, he didn't believe that someone so beautiful could possibly dislike anything about their appearance.

She was the most perfect being he had ever laid eyes on, an angel in a world of dullards. A swan amongst geese.

He made sure to complement his wife on every tiny detail, just to make sure she felt loved. And while it certainly made the queen feel adored, she never truly believed he meant it.

Especially when he complimented her eyelashes. How could he find such things beautiful? 

This continued on until one day, Baldwin entered the royal chambers with some news about a meeting that just concluded, only to find his wife sitting at her vanity with scissors in her hand.

At first, he was confused but as he approached her, he realized that she was cutting her eyelashes? Tears stained her cheeks as the scissors cut dangerously close to her eye.

“My love!” Baldwin said urgently, rushing to her side and taking the scissors from his wife's hand.

Y/n was shocked by his sudden appearance at her side as she did not hear him enter the room.

“What on earth are you doing?!” the young king stammered out, lost for words.

Y/n began to sob uncontrollably,

“I was cutting those hideous things off, I can't take it anymore!” she cried.

Baldwin instantly wrapped his arms around his wife as she buried herself into his robes.

“What do you mean darling? Your eyelashes are beautiful-” 

“They are not! I hate them, you're only saying that because you're my husband” she cried even harder.

Baldwin’s heart broke for his wife. She was gorgeous and he hated how poorly she saw herself. Pulling away to look into her eyes, Baldwin cupped y/n’s face in his hands.

A moment of silence passed before the young king sighed softly, reaching up to his face to remove the iron mask from his skin, thus revealing his bandaged, mottled face.

Y/n did not flinch one bit at his appearance. She always loved seeing his face.

“Tell me darling, do you think I am ugly?” he asked gently.

“Of course not, you're the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on!” y/n replied in a hushed, broken voice.

“And you are the most beautiful woman in the whole world. I myself believe that I am ugly, but I know that in many ways you see me as beautiful. Just as you see yourself as unattractive, I see you as the most gorgeous woman to ever grace God’s earth”.

Y/n felt her eyes welling up with tears again as Baldwin smiled gently. She adored his smile.

“Thank you Baldwin” she replied, burying herself back into the warmth of her husband's body.

“I love you y/n, never forget that” the young king murmured, wrapping his arms tighter around his wifes frame.

“I love you too Baldwin, and I always will as long as I live”

[munsooooon]

Warning: Angst, Kinda Hurt/No Comfort. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know if there is any mistake!

Eddie does die. Steve grows up, but he never forgets Eddie and all that could be. He was the man who made him accept his bisexuality. He was the man who made him find new interests. To everyone's surprise, Steve forms a punk band with Gareth and some other guys.

In the 90s, they became famous. They were big as Green Day and other bands of the time. Steve becomes a rock/punk sex symbol. Everyone goes crazy for him because he is incredibly pretty, and his songs are powerful. But he always claims he's not interested in having a relationship.

His band's albums are successful, but Steve keeps a low profile, at the beginning of '96 he disappears from the public eye, leaving everyone bewildered, the world doesn't stop throwing theories, even his fellow musicians in other bands are worried, Steve is a king once again, but he doesn't care about that crown either. In March 1997, surprisingly, his band released a preview of a new album, a heartbreaking single called Gone Away. It immediately becomes his biggest hit. People immediately want to know what the song is about.

So Steve speaks, for the first time he gives a serious interview, he was always quiet in the back while Gareth talked to the media, he ignored the questions, he had never talked to the media seriously before until now.

He is wearing a faded Dio T-shirt, black baggy jeans, and rings on his hand. His sad eyes always made him be compared to Kurt Cobain even though his music was different.

The audience numbers on MTV were breaking records. There were kids in the studio who reminded him of The Party. The host was very excited and could hardly hide it, but he was making a good effort:

"First of all, Steve, thank you very much for granting us this interview and, above all, congratulations for the huge success that Gone Away is having."

Steve smiles weakly and tries to be nice despite how overwhelmed he feels. He does it for Eddie because the guy reminds him of Eddie, at least in looks, he probably would have gotten along great with Eddie, Steve always thought so when he saw him on TV.

"Thank you," Steve whispers kindly. The guys in the studio can barely hear him.

"I know you're not a big fan of TV studios, so is it okay if we start with the questions?"

Steve nods weakly, and he can feel himself starting to breathe more naturally.

"I suffer from really bad migraines, and the studio lights are terrible."

"I understand," replies the show host. He looks at him for a few seconds straight in the eye. The boy seems to be dazzled by Steve and seems to understand what this means to him. "So, Gone Away, what's the song talking about?"

Steve looks at him gratefully. MTV wanted the host to ask him about a thousand topics as Steve was giving his first exclusive interview, Steve had agreed to talk shit because he knew that MTV was the place where he could reach kids who cared about his music, kids like Eddie.

"It's about my husband. His name was Eddie, Eddie Munson."

Steve could hear everyone in the studio express surprise. Steve suddenly felt like he was in high school when Eddie would climb on the tables.

"Your husband?" the host asked in surprise, he looked as if he didn't believe what Steve was saying, as if he thought it was one of the antics he sometimes pulled while Gareth was talking about his music but Steve kept his face very serious.

"My husband. You all think I'm from New York and I've never cared to make it clear. The band was formed in New York, I moved there when I was 22, but I grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. Probably a lot of the kids here don't know because they were so young, but 11 years ago there was a devastating earthquake there, a lot of people died, including my husband Eddie, he was just 21 years old."

"Yeah man, I remember that earthquake, was awful"

"Yeah. A few days before, Eddie had been persecuted by the whole town especially by the religious people because he was wrongfully accused of crimes he did not commit, which sucks because he was the sweetest man I have ever known, I have lived since then trying to be at least a part of how sweet he was."

Everyone was in complete shock. All eyes were on Steve.

"Eddie died in the earthquake. He sacrificed himself to save me, to save our friends. We didn't get to live our romance, but I know my love was reciprocated because he wrote me letters and poems, he made me drawings, and even in his last diary entry he said he was happy because we had friends in common, he was planning to talk to me at Spring Break and have fun with me and our friends in the summer."

"Steve, I'm very sorry".

"Last year was the 10th anniversary of his death. I can hardly believe that I have lived all this time without him, but I am as much in love as the first day. That is why I call him my husband, because even though I could never propose to him, we are together but in different places. We even have our children, who are the reason I am still alive. I still wear his clothes, these are his clothes, and this seat I'm sitting in today belongs to him, he was born a rock star. "

"Steve, once again, you have left us speechless."

Steve smiled genuinely at him and then turned to look directly into the camera:

"I'm making it very clear. I'm bisexual, I don't allow anyone, not the fans, not the media to question my sexuality like they did with Bowie, like they're doing it with Billie. I am bisexual, in love, and married to a wonderful man. If you can't understand that, you are stupid, and that makes you part of the problem that killed my husband 11 years ago."

Steve left the interview at that moment. He sent a letter to the host, thanking him for the space to talk about Eddie, being aware of how incredibly privileged he was. It was the first and last interview he gave, he thought his career was going to disappear but the interview made him more famous, the band played in the most important festivals that year but in 1998 they announced their separation. Steve lived his last days with Wayne in New York. Steve died a few days after Wayne died. In the year 2000, he was 34.

The fans were really happy that Steve was finally with his husband, the love of his life and his muse. Because Steve chose to live a life for him and Eddie, every time he made a decision about his music, he thought: What would Eddie have done?

That's why he decided to go to that famous interview in 1998. It was one of the greatest moments in music. Eddie and Steve are well remembered, not only by fans, to this day Steve's contemporary artists like Billie Joe Armstrong or Dave Grohl talk about those small moments in which they met Steve at festivals, they all agree that he was magical.

Like Steve lyrics, people always leave flowers in his shared grave with Eds to show they care.

Leaving flowers on your grave

To show that I still care

Black roses and Hail Mary's

Can't bring back what's taken from me

I reach to the sky

And call on your name

And if I could trade, I would

And it feels, and it feels like

Heaven's so far away

And it stings, and it stings now

The world is so cold

Now that you've gone away...

♡♡♡♡♡

• Gone Away is a song by The Offspring, an American punk band. Dexter, the lead singer, wrote this song because he was in the middle of a shooting with his girl. When I was younger I read he wrote it for his late girlfriend, who died in a car accident but apparently that's not true. Anyway it's one of my favourite songs, I think it is very beautiful, these days when I listen to the song I think that it is a song that suits Steve and Eddie a lot. Curiously, it was published in March 1997, exactly 11 years after Eddie's death, y all know he died in March 1986.

• The Billie Steve mentioned in the interview is Billie Joe Armstrong, the lead singer of Green Day. He is bisexual but many people question his sexuality back in the day and even nowadays.

I apologise for this, hahaha. I have a happy version of this if you guys are interested.

[pdpenpals]

hihi! i was wondering if i could get a romantic letter from phoenix drop high gene? she/they pronouns please :)

and for the context of the letter, maybe Gene & Reader recently started dating but can’t text because Reader is away at an academic sleep away camp (preferably centered around literature/writing)? Reader is on the more academic/nerdy side and not officially part of the SK so them doing these kinds of programs is their usual summer thing but it’s the first time Gene and Reader have been away from eachother since they started dating

tysm <33

hihi!! thanks for sending this in, i think this prompt’s absolutely adorable!

unrelated but speaking of literature whenever i see gene now that i’m older i think of heathcliff (more of the name) or the phantom for some reason.

your entire being perks up at the mention that a letter’s arrived, and your heart races as you go through who could have possibly sent it in your head. the moment you have it in your hands, you can almost tell exactly who it’s from. the envelope’s a dark gray, close enough to be black. there are stickers all over its back next to your name and address, same goes for the front. opening it, you catch a whiff of someone familiar’s cologne. that cheeky bastard. 

you notice almost immediately that there’s not only a letter inside, but a bunch of printed photos and some unused stickers. after finding a spot to settle your new goodies upon, you get comfy and get to reading.

Hey cutie. Miss me yet? 

Heard a fair’s coming to town soon. I think it’ll still be there when you get back. There should even be fireworks on the last day. We can go there if you wanna.

Other than that, nothing much happened today. Dante was out, and I had the house to myself for a good portion of the afternoon. Without sugarcoating it, I was bored out of my mind.

It took me a while to figure out my texts or calls weren’t getting through to you. Mom must have seen how frustrated I was about it, so she shared some of her spare stationery with me as a last resort. She said something about wanting to hear about how your summer’s been doing so far.

That’s all the small talk I can handle for today. You might get too tired of staring at only words for too long over there, so you might want to check out the pics taken these past few days. The stickers are from Zenix and Sasha by the way, they also say hi.

Kidding aside, I know how much this whole camp thing means to you.  But I’ve been feeling weird ever since you left. It’s weirder knowing you’re not nearby. When you’re not a walk or a call away. Even though I know exactly how many days and many hours are left until you come back.

Sappy shit out the way, I decided to read that one book you lent me at random. I’m not sure you remember it much since you hurriedly gave it to me without a second thought, but it’s that really old one about the day before the world ends. All that apocalyptic and sad shit. Even though I didn’t get it, I guess it was nice that Vincent and Leticia got their happy ending. To be honest, the book overall didn’t stand out to me much, but the concept of having one day left to live sure did.

If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I would

Y’know, maybe it’s for the best I save it for when we meet again in person, so you better come back home in one piece, yeah?

With an aching heart and hand, Your Gene, who misses you terribly

PS. I feel like you’ve been rubbing off on me recently, state-of-mind-wise. While it’s not that bad, it gives me the chills.

PPS. If not having you near me hasn't driven me insane yet, I definitely will go mad if this letter doesn't make it to you. Especially after all I've put my wrist through just for this. Maybe I should visit the post office a few more times?

[jasmine-tea-biscuits]

Everyday I fight the urge to write a Leander fic inspired by the Darkling’s “fine make me your villain” line. Everyday I struggle not to rant about how he reminds me of that shadow wielding little shit.

And today’s the day yall get to hear about it. Sorry.

I’ve mentioned before that I think his kindness comes with another motive, which could involve studying the mc’s curse and potentially using it to his advantage. Perhaps against the Senobium? Perhaps his beef with them has to do with whatever he thinks is the greater good but perhaps he also believes he’s the only one capable of leading everyone there, and that’s why he needs you indebted to him and trusting him specifically.

And plenty of people have talked about the life and death imagery related to him, especially where immortality is concerned, which also makes me think he’s been biding his time for a LONG while, so losing the opportunity you present is NOT an option. He might’ve had perfectly good intentions when he began but maybe time and the isolation that comes with power has made him secretly very jaded, even if he’s not as crazy old as part of me likes to theorize.

Add to that the charisma and droves of followers despite (or maybe even thanks to) the mystery of where he came from and how he got this powerful?? On top of the fact he was already so fascinated with the curse, even calling it YOUR POWER, while seemingly being unaffected by it as if that shit wasn’t REALLY that out there for him to experience??? Like he could be familiar with that sort of power to begin with????

AND THEN THE SCREENSHOT OF HIM IN THE MC’S ROOM??!!!

ITS GIVING LIKE CALLS TO LIKE, ALIKE AS NO ONE ELSE WAS OR WOULD EVER BE, YOU AND I ARE GOING TO CHANGE THE WORLD, YOU WERE MEANT TO Be MY BALANCE TYPE OF OBSESSED!!!!

So yeah, I’m hoping Leander’s potential obsession with mc has something to do with him planning to use them till he realizes they might be the one person who gets him and he’s just desperate not to be alone again, even as he does terrible things for what he thinks is for the greater good.

But the part of my brain that hasn’t gotten rid of 17 year old me screaming about her questionable ships might be reaching and the very tense hand holding during the first meeting with him sure as shit ain’t helping my mental state. That screenshot could very well be a bad ending and all my theories and comparisons could mean nothing for the rest of his story. I could be delulu.

But I’ll be delulu till the game comes out.

[ikeromantic]

Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 4

Thank you again to @otomedad for this fantastic idea ^_^ This one has Mitsuhide, Keiji, and Ieyasu! Approx. 2600 words of tattoo and MC appreciation!

Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide’s smile was infuriating. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and stretch your aching muscles. After five hours of practice, you were tired, your hair was a tangled mess, and your clothes looked even worse. And Akechi was just standing there, grinning, not a single hair out of place.  

“That was much better, little mouse. Almost passable.” His grin widens. “In another week or two, you might be able to fend off, say, a small rabbit? Perhaps a squirrel?”

You throw a sweat-damp rag at him, which he dodges easily. 

Mitsuhide’s eyebrows arch. “What’s this? Another match? I could never deny my little one.” 

“W-wai-ahhhh!” You hold up a hand to stop him, only for him to grab your hand and send you up and over his shoulder. He holds you there, your head flopping against his upper back, legs kicking uselessly in the air.

“Hmm. I think you’ve lost this round. You don’t seem to be able to get down.”

You seriously consider biting him, but there’s no easy spot to clamp down on. Besides, he’d probably just - 

“If you bite me, I will return the favor.” You hear the laughter in his voice, and feel his breath on your leg.

“Put me down!” 

Mitsuhide does laugh then, a low, wicked chuckle that sends feelings skittering through your frayed nerve endings. “I don’t think I want to, though. You’ll have to convince me.”

You struggle some more, trying to grab hold of him so you can leverage your grip to wriggle out of his. It’s impossible not to be aware of the flex of his muscle, covered by thin linen. The way he holds you, gentle, but implacable. Your pulse is racing and your face is red from more than exertion. I’m just embarrassed, you think, knowing that’s not quite true. 

With some effort, you manage to grasp his clothes firmly enough to pull yourself down, but you feel the loose folds of your hakama slide away from your hips as you do. You freeze, held by the terrible image of Mitsuhide carrying a pantless you, your rear in the air, legs kicking. 

“It seems my little mouse has only further ensnared herself.”   

The low, smooth tone of his voice sends a little shiver over the newly bare skin of your hip, and you fancy that you can feel his hair tickling that sensitive spot. “You - I - this - this is your fault!” It’s hard to think, and you wonder if he’s distracting you on purpose. Teasing, as always.

Mitsuhide chuckles, the laugh more something you can feel than hear. “But however will you escape? Perhaps you could persuade -” He pauses, holding very still.

“Ummm. Pretty please? Put me down?” You stop squirming, hopeful this means he’s done with his current game.

Instead, he shifts his grip on you, and you feel a cool, calloused finger drag against your hip. 

The unexpected touch, featherlight, sends a jolt of heat through you, and you bite back a pleased sigh. There is no way you’re letting Akechi get to you. Nope. No. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his taunting touch got to you this time. “Mitsuhide -”

“You have been marked. What is this, my naughty little mouse?” 

For a moment, you have no idea what he means and then you realize. He must have glimpsed your tattoo. Your face, already hot, grows hotter still. This was something you hoped to keep to yourself. Especially given . . .

You feel his fingers catch the waist of your hakama and pull it a little further down. “Wait! Stop!”

Mitsuhide pauses, though now you can feel the cool air and his warm breath teasing your low hip. “This is no irezumi kei.” His voice has changed, the teasing replaced by strained curiosity.

“I told you I’m from the future. People have all kinds of tattoos there.” You hope he hasn’t realized what the design is. Please, please, you think, if there is any goodness in the world, he won’t see enough to -

“Little one. This is a -” His voice is so low you don’t catch the end of his sentence. 

You let out a breath, realizing there’s no escaping it now. “Look. I got that a long time ago. It was supposed to be the first part of a full leg sleeve.”

He sets you down gently, his hands lingering at your sides. His eyes are molten gold, and you find it hard to look away. “May I see it?”

 It is tempting to tell him no. To return some of the frustration you feel with his obtuse answers, his hot and cold behavior. But you find that you want to show him. Afterall, who else would appreciate this particular design more? You carefully tug your hakama down to display your hip and upper thigh. There, etched in bright colors is a nine-tail fox. The kitsune leaps from cloud a cloud toward a flower that looks like a cloud - or perhaps it’s a cloud that looks like a flower - and below that, the first hint of a river that was meant to tie the leg sleeve together. 

Mitsuhide’s smile widens and he kneels to get a closer look. 

“Go ahead,” you sigh. “Say what you’re going to say.”

His breath is warm against your skin as he leans close, his hand not quite touching. He stares into the soulful eyes of the inked kitsune, one fox to another, as if it might hold answers for him. When he looks up at you, your heart stutters in your chest. “You somehow manage to surprise me still, little one.” 

You aren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you feel as if you can barely breathe much less speak. It’s not just Mitsuhide’s closeness, or even your vulnerability in this position. It is the expression that haunts his eyes, a flicker of something hopeful, something raw beneath his usual smiling mask. 

“Why did you choose this? This . . . unworthy trickster?” His voice is almost inaudible, as if he too is having trouble breathing.

“Unworthy?” Your eyes go wide. “Kitsune are wise. Tricksters, yeah, but that just means they didn’t lose their sense of humor. They are noble and cunning and they pursue knowledge, even when it’s forbidden, and - and I wanted to be all those things too.” You fall silent, wondering why his comment upset you so much.

Mitsuhide stares at you, his brows arched high, his lips parted. Then he laughs, a paper thin, breathy sound that rises to a low chuckle. “Truly you are something . . . else.” He stands gracefully, his gaze still on your face.

“You too,” you mutter and turn away, busying your hands with fixing your clothes. It isn’t fair how he always tangles your feelings, you think. Looking at you like that, his voice, his eyes, his touch.

“Your tattoo is lovely. As lovely as you are.” He brushes a hand down your arm, a tender gesture. 

You freeze, butterflies filling your chest. His compliment means so much to you, but you don’t know what to say in return. Your throat feels parched and tight. After a shaky breath, you look up, determined to ask him why he teases you so, but he is already moving away, his back to you, the moment gone.  

Keiji

“Sometimes I don’t know why I bother,” you murmur to yourself. The subject and cause of your annoyance crouches a few steps away, all but ignoring you, his gaze turned toward the street just beyond the mouth of this narrow alley. You think you might prefer his silence to his commentary. 

He turns his head slightly to regard you, and you have the uncanny sense that he heard your whispered complaint. Chagrined, you offer him an apologetic smile, which earns you an eyeroll and a smirk. 

You do your best to ignore his reaction, but you can’t help the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, or the way his regard makes your pulse pound.

A few short minutes later, he gestures you forward as he steps out into the clear street ahead. You follow, a nervous energy in your steps. In fact, you are so nervous that your feet tangle mid-step. 

Keiji catches you before you hit the ground, his warm arms pulling you up in an unexpected embrace. “Careful,” he admonishes you sharply, but you see the genuine concern in his gaze.

“Thanks.” You pull away, self conscious and even more embarrassed now. At this rate, Keiji will never ask you along to anymore of his clandestine missions. You try not to meet his gaze again as you straighten your clothes.

He reaches out, grabbing your hand before you manage to tug your sleeve back into place. “Is that - are you - princess . . .” The sharpness in his tone melts into surprise as he pulls your sleeve back up. 

“Ehehe, umm . . . it’s a tattoo?” The inked lines of three noh masks stare back at the two of you. “I did costuming for theater and I, I liked these designs.” You end on a defiant note, practically daring Keiji to say something snarky.

Surprisingly, he says nothing, just strokes your marked skin with the rough pad of his thumb. The touch sends a pleasant shiver through you, which you hope he doesn’t notice. 

“So . . . can I have my arm back,” you venture after a few awkward moments. 

Keiji nods, but doesn’t let go of you. “Do you know what these mean?” His voice sounds distant, soft and surprisingly tender. 

You nod. “I . . . yes.” Your gaze follows his thumb to the three faces. I got Zō because I feel like she represents the best in women. Divinity and beauty. Wisdom. And then, Namanari because hell hath no fury, right? Holding onto anger makes me a demon. So she’s kind of a warning for me to let it go, but also, like, a reminder that it’s ok to be angry too.”

“And Rōjo?” He looks up, his warm amber eyes meeting yours. 

“To remind me that getting older is ok too.” You shrug uncomfortably, feeling oddly exposed by the confession. 

Keiji studies you, tension in his shoulders and jaw. “It’s nice. Your tattoo.”

Your eyes widen a little at the compliment. “You know you don’t have to fake things around me,” you tell him, half hoping he means it and half sure he doesn’t.

“I said I like it, ok? It’s pretty.” He frowns, a little crease forming between his eyebrows.

For some reason, the all too familiar expression of disapproval combined with the kind words sends little butterflies spinning through your tummy, and makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest. He has no right to look so cute, you think. Or to say such nice things while his thumb makes little circles on the inner side of your arm. “Th-thanks.”

One eyebrow lifts slightly along with the corners of his lips. “You’re blushing.”

You jerk your arm away, trying to get ahold of your galloping heart. “I am not!” 

He laughs, a sound free of nega-Keiji’s bitterness, one full of a sudden, intoxicating joy. 

This does nothing to help you rein in your reaction, but you find yourself joining in the laughter with him. “Come on, let’s just go meet your contacts,” you say through your giggles. 

“Yeah. That’s right.” He smiles and you feel another flush of heat in your cheeks. One that only grows as he reaches for your hand.

Ieyasu

“Hold still.” Ieyasu’s crisp tone brooks no disobedience. 

You stop squirming and take a deep breath. “Sorry,” you mumble. “It just hurts.”

A faint smile curls the edges of his mouth. “Yes, well, tumbling down a gravel path usually does. You should be more careful. At this rate, I’ll have to accompany you everywhere just to ensure you don’t hurt yourself.”

You feel a goofy happiness at the gentle expression on his face as he says it, though his tone stays sharp. “I’m not that clumsy,” you argue. “I don’t need babysitting.” 

“The evidence leaves that very much in doubt.” Ieyasu tugs your kimono aside, revealing your hip and thigh. There is an angry red patch of skin where the gravel scraped you badly, and his eyes flick over the wound with concern. Then his gaze travels up and you notice his brows rise. 

“What? What is it?” You start to move again and stop as he rests a hand on you. 

Ieyasu frowns, his fingertip tapping just above your injury. “You have a mark. Like a painting but -” He drags his finger over the ink of your tattoo. 

“Oh, that.” You laugh self-consciously. You hadn’t been thinking about the tattoo at all - especially not after your spectacularly embarrassing accident that morning. Tripping over a rock and sliding halfway down a gravel and sand path while out walking with Hideyoshi. And to make matters worse, he’d insisted on carrying you to see Ieyasu for treatment. Thankfully, he hadn’t stayed. You could easily imagine his disapproving expression. Probably more so than the face Ieyasu was making now. 

“Yes. That.” He leaned closer to your leg, studying the colorful image there. “It looks like an octopus. Holding a flower?” Ieyasu’s voice has lost some it’s usual coldness, thawing to an unexpected warmth with curiosity.

You feel another little flutter in your chest and tell yourself to calm down. “It’s supposed to be Akkorokamui holding an anemone. I got it after my parents passed away.” The memory of your intense grief is enough to make you pause. It’s been so many years since you lost them, but it still hurts. A dull, distant ache you don’t notice most of the time. Only on those lonely, long nights when there is nothing to distract you. 

Ieyasu looks up, concern in his wide green eyes. “You don’t need to tell me if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s ok. I can talk about it. That was several years ago and I - I’m alright now.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I read that the octopus was a symbol for adaptability. And that Akkorokamui meant healing and wisdom. So . . . I got it as a tattoo, so I would never forget I can handle everything life throws my way. That I will always heal, in time.”

His warm palm strokes your thigh, a gentle touch meant to be calming. The effect on you is less than, sending your pulse skyrocketing. “I see.” He continues the tender caress, though his brows furrow. “But why is it holding a flower?”

“Fragility and strength. Because I’m fragile but I want to be strong.” You take a breath, trying to calm your heart and settle the ache in your soul. Surprisingly, your grief already feels less, as if Ieyasu’s closeness has chased it away.

He nods, looking back down with his thoughtful expression. “I think it’s nice.” 

You can’t miss the flush of red in his cheeks, or his sudden shyness as he pulls his hand away. 

“Too bad such a pretty picture can’t stop you from being a danger to yourself. But I don’t think this will leave a scar on your lov- er, your skin.” Ieyasu’s coldness returns in full force, his eyes as hard as jade.

“Do you really think it’s pretty? I like it but -”

“Of course it is,” he snaps back, already pulling out a tincture to clean your wound.

You bite your lip at the sting, eyes watering a little. 

Ieyasu sighs, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Sorry. I should have warned you. This will hurt a little.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you like me - ah - my tattoo.” 

His eyes widen at your slip in speech, his mouth open. The red in his cheeks spreads to his ears, and something in his gaze wavers. “Well. Even I can admit when someone-thing- is pretty. I’m not blind.”

You feel a giggle rising up and clamp down. Laughing now would not be a good thing. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he mutters, turning away. You can still see the red tips of his ears.

[cat-downthestreet]

hey, listen! this is a rant post about neurodivergent characters in Genshin and my frustration with the fandom's reading comprehension skills. if you're in a bad place or just don't like angry rants, please don't force yourself and go read something else instead. <3

Okay, so, I watched this video recently, and let's just say, I have some thoughts.

https://youtu.be/tYK3297p4rk?si=eMaf8NF57HFlUhfd

This isn't just a Xiao problem- the entire fandom is terrible at characterization. The example that makes me the most angry is the mischaracterization of neurodivergent characters.

Take Alhaitham for example. He's often seen as rude and narcissistic by the fandom- which is especially apparent in Haikaveh content, where people portray him as straight up abusive.

You wanna know why this makes me so mad? The supposedly narcissistic and rude traits Alhaitham has are actually just exaggerated symptoms of autism.

Like, come ON, people. Don't skip dialogue. Better yet, go read through his story quest again. He straight up tells someone who sees him as narcissistic that he doesn't see others as less than himself. Also, his voicelines basically confirm this- he's extremely socially inept and he doesn't care. He has difficulty showing emotions as readily as his peers- that doesn't mean he doesn't have them, just that he expresses them differently. He comes across as rude because he doesn't get that people don't like to hear what they're doing wrong, and he probably doesn't care because that's not his problem. If people don't like how blunt he is, that's their problem. At least, that's how I think he views the world.

And like, there are SO many hints that he's autistic. He wears sound-blocking earpieces, for crying out loud. Hell, the ENTIRE REASON why he helped out during the Archon quest was because he didn't want his life to change too much. Preferring routine is an autistic trait.

And the worst part is, when I talk about this outside of neurodivergent groups, people tell me I'm wrong and that he couldn't be autistic DESPITE THOSE PEOPLE NOT BEING AUTISTIC THEMSELVES.

And I'm not saying that every autistic person relates to Alhaitham, but I certainly do. And I'm actually quite friendly because I'm anxious about being rejected. Alhaitham isn't, and I'm so jealous of him for that. He's living his best life.

Finally, back to the Haikaveh thing... Alhaitham isn't abusive. He doesn't say horrible things to Kaveh, and the one example of him doing that I could find, he immediately backtracked and subtly tried to make Kaveh feel better. Hell, Alhaitham doesn't even actually care about making sure Kaveh pays rent. He says it as a joke, but because he's autistic and his tone of voice doesn't give that away as well, he's portrayed as abusive and misunderstood as narcissistic. Y'all just don't like neurodivergent people and it shows.

Yes, neurodivergent includes Xiao. PTSD is often viewed as a form of neurodivergency, and there are many MANY characters in Genshin that have PTSD or some other form of neurodivergence. Yet people refuse to see them as such and mischaracterize them as "edgy," "narcissistic," "unapproachable," "weird," and the like. Yet none of these characters are any of those things.

You wanna know the true narcissists? The true edgelords? The actually rude people? Might I direct your attention to Scaramouche, Childe, and Dottore, whom everyone makes out to be as misunderstood pathetic little meow meows that need love.

Reminder that only two of those three are actually redeemable, and one is STILL an edgelord who is more rude than Alhaitham could ever be, while the other is a certified insane person with a weird set of morals.

(Side note: I love Scaramouche and Childe as characters. I'm just tired of people acting like they aren't worse than the autistic characters. Scaramouche is extremely rude, but he's trying to be better as Wanderer thanks to Nahida's help. He has severe PTSD, and Childe does, too. But both of them are actually messed up and have done horrible things, yet people portray them as better and more in need of love than the characters with unlikable (read: neurodivergent) traits.)

Don't even get me started on how people portray Kokomi, Sucrose, Fischl, Diluc, Zhongli, Cyno, Furina, Neuvillette, and Albedo. Especially that last one- I WILL get mad if one more person tries to tell me he's just emotionless and rude.

Also, if anyone is wondering where I've seen people misunderstanding these characters, it's mostly on Hoyolab site discussions. There's one too many posts talking about how "rude" and "annoying" these characters are.

With Alhaitham especially, I see many people writing him as abusive in Haikaveh content. I see people arguing about the ship being toxic because Alhaitham is "abusive," "unfeeling," and "cruel." Even people who like the ship portray him as such. And I've seen too many people comparing him to Dr. Ratio, who is literally just a narcissist who views others as beneath him. Don't get me wrong, I understand the comparison. It's just... very obvious that people skipped dialogue during Genshin's Archon and story quests.

And it's frustrating because I've been misunderstood in the exact same way. I've been called "rude," "annoying," and "unfeeling" in the past and it's screwed me up. Seeing people do the same thing to a character I so deeply relate to makes me lose confidence in both myself and people around me.

If that's how you view a fictional character with autistic traits, how do you treat real people with the same traits?

Thanks for reading this far. My previous post seemed to get a lot of attention, so I felt more confident about posting my full perspective on this subject. Can any of you think of other characters that have been constantly misunderstood in the fandom? I'd love to hear about it.

[quibbler-quirks]

Perfect Imperfections - Ominis x fem!Reader

Summary: Ominis asks MC to the Yule Ball. Or at least that was his plan.

Word count: 1.5k

Tags/warnings: she/her pronouns, a little bit of angst, assumed Triwizard Champion MC

A/N: Thank you for all of the love for my first post! I am truly not a writer, but Ominis has been bringing me lots of comfort. Just a little scenario I thought of~ I hope you enjoy!

-------

It was a terrible misunderstanding really.

Upon the end of her fifth year, MC had thought she had seen all the wizarding world had to offer. Magical prowess beyond her wildest dreams, a goblet of flames spitting out perfectly unburnt paper, and friends that seemed to transcend consequence. That is why strolling into the Transfiguration Courtyard as silent snowflakes fell from the sky, she could not understand why the pale hands of a certain Ominis Gaunt were in the hands of a particularly bubbly Anne Sallow.

It was not as if Ominis and MC were officially courting, but MC had thought after what had happened in their fifth year, they truly had a chance to become friends in their sixth and seemingly more in their seventh.

In her unoccupied hand, Anne held a beautiful bouquet of white roses and snowdrops, sprinkled with opulent green ferns and frosted holly berries. The perfect bouquet to ask someone to the Yule Ball with and with sudden clarity, it all made sense. Ominis had invited Anne to the Ball and not herself. Of course, nothing could triumph a childhood love, especially not after going through extreme measures to find a cure for Anne. MC knew Ominis had cared deeply for Anne throughout their search, but she felt embarrassed by her own ignorance realizing his care was out of love for the Sallow twin. 

With the sight of the bouquet blurring, MC continued hastily through the courtyard into the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, hoping no one could see the tears that welled in her eyes.

-------

“Bombarda!” a barrel explodes into splinters.

“Confringo!” a suit of armour topples to the ground.

How could she have been so blind? So selfish? While her feelings for the Gaunt boy had blossomed, it did not mean his feelings had done the same. Frustrated between being happy for her friends and heartbroken, MC lashed out spell after spell, aiming at particularly nowhere. The Undercroft was alight with flashes of colours as if someone had set off fireworks. She should be happy for them. Both were such kind souls and had helped each other through thick and thin, but thoughts of how well they matched did not comfort her. Besides, she had bigger things to worry about.

Continuing to bellow out spells, MC did not notice Sebastian had been watching her for some time, unsure of how to stop her. 

Suddenly, the gates of the Undercroft were once again creaking open, but MC’s shouts deafened her senses.

“MC?” called out Ominis.

“She’s been at it for centuries,” Sebastian remarks. “I can’t seem to get her to calm down.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you always assume it was me?”

“Because it is always you, Sebastian,” Ominis grunts, “if it was not you, then what happened?”

“That… is a fair point,” Sebastian admits in defeat. “I’m not sure, I just know she has been like this since I got here. Practicing for the next challenge maybe? You can give it a go, but I’m going to find somewhere else to read. Good luck.”

The room felt a lot emptier since Ominis had last been there. Hearing Sebastian’s footsteps fade up the stairs, Ominis could also hear just how sharply the spells echoed off of the Undercroft’s stone walls. As if none of the crates and barrels he knew to be placed there existed at all. 

“I’m sorry love,” he whispers, directing his wand to the voice of MC. “Arresto momentum.”

Time suddenly stops for MC and her mouth fails to produce another coherent word.

“Reparo!”

The shattered state of the Undercroft begins to repair itself as Ominis carefully strolls over to MC, bringing down her arms and tucking her body into his chest. He could feel her wet tears seep through his wool jumper. Just how much had she been crying?

“What did you do?” the voice of Anne Sallow shrieks.

“Again, why does everyone always assume it was me!” Sebastian retaliates as the twins reappear at the base of the Undercroft.

Slightly embarrassed his childhood friends might have seen him holding their mutual friend quite intimately, Ominis jumps away, a blush rising to his ears. 

Seeing the tears falling down her best friend’s face, Anne rushes over to MC, bouquet forgotten on the floor, ready to embrace her. “What did my oaf of a brother do this time?”

Suddenly processing the other people present in the Undercroft, MC wipes her tears and tries to compose herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you come in! Don’t worry, Sebastian didn’t do anything… this time… that I know of...”

“Hey-” Sebastian starts.

“Never mind him then. My brother said you were crying as he was coming out of the Undercroft. Is everything okay, MC?”

“Yes, no worries! I’m sorry for worrying you! I was just, erm, worried about the upcoming challenge? Lots to practice I’m afraid”

“That’s bullocks,” Sebastian scoffs, “the Second Task isn’t for another two months! You’ll be fine.”

“Well, something must be on your mind,” Anne says, voice laced with concern.

“Maybe it’s just the Triwizard Tournament in general! There’s so much going on! Seriously, Anne, I’m fitter than a Fwooper! I just came from Professor Weasley’s office and I suppose the pressure really got to me,” MC forces a smile, eyes dropping to the fallen bouquet that lay near Ominis’ feet. “Besides, we have the holidays and the Ball to look forward to! We still have to go shopping for your dress, Anne! Even if our dear friend can’t see how stunning you will look, I think it will still be nice to dress up,” she continues to ramble on, gaze unmoving from the bouquet.

Slowly putting together the puzzle pieces, Anne gasps and steps back from MC in shock. Looking at the fallen bouquet, the Gaunt boy’s red ears, then her friend’s tear-stained face, she realizes MC must have seen her and Ominis in the courtyard on her way to the Undercroft. It really was a terrible misunderstanding.

“You, Gaunt, have some fixing to do,” pointing at the poor boy despite his lack of sight. She huffs over, picking up and shoving the bouquet into his arms.

“What did I do?” he pleads, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah! Why do you always assume it’s us?” Sebastian cries out again.

“Boys…” Anne mutters, dragging her brother back up the stairs past the gate. “I think you have something important to address.”

And with a final grit of her teeth, the Sallow twins disappear back into the tower, leaving a baffled MC and an even more confused Ominis.

Feeling the leaves of the once pristine bouquet tickle his chin, Ominis searches his mind for any reason Anne would ruin the surprise he had prepared.

“That really is a lovely bouquet. Anne is very lucky,” MC breaks the silence.

Oh… Oh! Cursing under his breath, Ominis finally understands what Anne had meant. Oh, this was not going according to plan at all.

Eyes opened wide and stammering over his words, Ominis speaks, “No! No, you are mistaken! These aren’t for Anne! Why would I give such a thing to Anne? A bouquet? That’s ridiculous. Not that bouquets are ridiculous or that I wouldn’t give anything to Anne..” Taking a deep breath, he finishes, “This was meant for you.”

Slightly shocked, MC starts, “But I saw you and Anne in the courtyard and I thought–”

“These were meant for you! I mean, these are for you, love.”

“I don’t think I’m quite following.”

Ominis approaches her carefully, reaching out for her hands and gently placing the bouquet in them. “I am asking you if I could have the honour of accompanying you to the Yule Ball.”

MC’s jaw drops in shock. Too stunned to say anything.

“That is if you are not already going with someone. I know it is rather late of me to ask, but I had this whole thing planned where I was going to–”

Then suddenly his words are cut off by the feeling of lips pressed against his. It is short and it is sweet. It is clumsy but evidently full of love. Everything a first kiss could ever be.

Breaking the contact, MC steps back, clutching the bouquet in her arms. “Wow, what a mess and a fool I am… I didn’t think you were going to ask. I would love that very much, Ominis.”

Smiling and reaching out to place his hands on top of MC’s, Ominis chuckles, “What a mess indeed. I apologize for all of the trouble I have caused. Anne actually was the one helping me pick out the flowers for you. I wanted them to be even a fraction as beautiful as you are, little dove.”

“They are perfect.”

“Not as perfect as you.”

-------

Bonus:

“OH! I UNDERSTAND NOW!” Sebastian shouts. “That sly dog! Took him long enough.”

“Boys…” Anne grumbles again, but holds back a smile as she watches Ominis and MC hand in hand walking across the courtyard where just moments before everything went astray.

[emocl0wnpp]

Finally i had time to write the LJ headcanon post..or well my "LJ rewrite"...so here it is!

My LJ rewrite/headcanons!!

( I'll try to leave my oc x canon stuff out of here as much as i can)

🎪

Basics:

Name: Laughing Jack or LJ (or Jackie if you're very close with him)

Age: probably over 200,but in human years honestly no idea-

Gender: AGENDER/GENDERLESS LJ PROPAGANDA!! (He presents as male and refers to himself as one,but technically he can be anything)

Pronouns: honest to god he doesn't care,but since Issac called him a boy,he uses he/him,but otherwise he don't give a fuck

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 225cm/ 7"3

Twins with Laughing Jill(he's younger by like 10 minutes,Jill treats that as 10 years)

Idk how to list this but he's british🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

🎪

Personality:

Honest to god i don't remember his canon personality💀💀

Basically,he's a jerk. A little dipshit who will cause trouble with his tricks and pranks,especially if he doesn't like you. At first glance he's quite mean and sarcastic,buuut if he finds you cool enough/gets attached he's a whole different person(totally not projecting onto him rn)

Once he actually likes someone enough to consider them a friend,he's much kinder and sweeter.

He's pretty caring actually

He will hold back on his mean and sarcastic comments..unless you're into that

He tries ANYTHING to keep his friends close,literally anything. Magic tricks,jokes,drowning them with candy and affection,tieing them up in his circus so they can't leave,the usual things

He has trouble understanding emotions in general,especially other people's,and has trouble managing his own,ESPECIALLY his anger and saddness

Terrible,horrible abandonment and attachment issues

He's very impulsive,he usually does/says things without thinking them through first(again totally not projecting)

I'll dare to say that my version of LJ has Borderline personality disorder

Idk if this counts to personality or no but my man is touch starved. Touch him once and he won't let go of you

🎪

Other important stuff idk how to categorize:

Scratches himself a lot,especially when he's uncomfortable or nervous...and since he has sharp claws they leave marks(that's why his arms and stomach are wrapped up)

Used to be ashamed of his freckles so he covered them up with makeup(not anymore tho :3)

His favourite candies are lollipops

Dark humor is his favourite thing in the world

my man can stretch his limbs as long as possible,comes in handy when he's lazy to get up to grab something

His british accent comes out when he talks too fast

Throws around medival knight words for fun/to annoy others

He has a circus :^D

And in that circus he has little ghost kids running around(he won't admit but he's kinda like a father figure to them)

He has a little doll collection at his circus

He mostly kills kids between the ages of 10 and above,unless the kid is like extra annoying or something

Like i mentioned before,he's terrified of abandonment

Claustrophobia. Specifically he's terrified of small spaces(thanks to being locked in a small box for god knows how long)

Also fight me but he has a small fear of the dark,mostly in small spaces

🎪

Design/looks:

CONFETTI FRECKLES!!!

Like a lot of them all over his face and body

He has a little mole under his left eye

Scars on his stomach and arms(mentioned above)

His nose can bend (and it goes limp when he's sad/j)

His tongue is long af and is striped

Now that i mentioned stripes he has some on his arms

Used to wear his hair in a low ponytail,but after some time he just stopped caring about his hair..and himself in general

Okay this one involves a bit of oc x canon but hear me out, he was very lanky and skinny,but after meeting Claws he got a bit thicker and more muscular

Small matching tattoo with Claws!!

(For those who find this post before any of my other posts Claws is my creepypasta oc-)

I'll add more pictures of my design for him but i don't have much yet--

Aaaand I can't add any backstory related stuff cuz haven't really changed anything yet-

But i'll edit this post if anything else comes to mind!!

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Candy Coated [Chapter One] Even in Death [Buddha]

A/n: this is the first chapter of the Buddha (ROR) story that I’ve been mentioning for a week or so now. It was inspired by the one-shot that I wrote ‘Lost in Paradise’, and this story basically follows the same idea. 

I waited to post this chapter until the poll went down, which asked about the gender or lack of gender of the Mortal Reader. 65% of 52 voters voted for the reader to be a female and 35% voted for the reader to be gender neutral. I have the screenshot in case anyone wants to see it, though to be honest, I did my best not the mention the gender of the reader at all unless I need to. So, with the voting done, the reader will be female. Thank you for the support and for the votes.

There is a tag list below; if you would like to be added to it in order to keep up with the story when I post chapter, please let me know so I can add you. I plan to update this story as often as possible with two other stories I’m working on, so please be patient. Read the warning tags and enjoy.     

Words: 2,139

Tag list: @tojibreedingme​, @quinloki, @yingxian, @2lottie2

Warning(s): soulmate au, reader insert, mentions of death, female reader.

No Minors Allowed!!

Fear devours you, tightening your muscles in a way that leaves you powerless and frozen.

You honestly don't remember much; the siren woke you, but it was far too late to evacuate. The storm had been far worse than the news had reported; it had become a category 5 before anyone even knew what was happening. You had tried to shelter yourself indoors as the powerful winds rampaged outside, but it wasn’t enough and the walls came tumbling down.

But somehow you had wound up outside, sitting amongst the wreckage.

This can’t be right. It's silent; the entire world around you. It's almost like the noise had been drained. You can’t hear the wind screaming in your ears or the houses as they are torn asunder. In a way, it’s peaceful, but the silence is also frightening. Especially with your body lying meters away from you, caught beneath the rubble of your cheap apartment.

Why are you looking at yourself?

"This is terrible," a sincere voice utters.

You avert your attention in the direction of the noise, drawn like a moth to a flame, and see a teenage girl with short lilac hair standing in the middle of the road; her aqua-green eyes are filled with tears as she stares out at the chaos.

"The Gods have no mercy," she mentions. "There are so many souls here."

What is she talking about? You raise a curious brow, glancing at your body once again. The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks and tears gather in your eyes.

"I'm dead."

The sound of footsteps brings your attention back to the teenage girl to see her approaching you. If you are dead, is she some sort of reaper? You dart to your feet and take a cautious step away from her, but she raises her hands in defense.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I was sent to help."

"How?" You ask in disbelief, motioning toward your body. "I'm dead. How can you help me?"

She narrows her eyes in sympathy.

"I can take you to the afterlife where you can move on. I'm sorry, but there isn't much else I can do for you."

So, she is a reaper. She doesn't look scary at all, but this doesn't mean that you trust her; a point you emphasize by peddling back as she takes a cautious step forward.

"My name is Göll. I'm a Valkyrie; a demigod. Um... you know, like––"

"I know what a Valkyrie is," you mention. "It's the 21st century."

What you don't understand is what a Valkyrie is doing here. Are they not mere legends? They are specific to Norse mythology, or so you had thought. Realizing that she has been prattling on the entire time about something you haven't been listening to, you raise a hand and stop her.

"So, you came to take me to heaven... or Valhalla–– whatever you want to call it." You ask.

Göll nods.

"Well, not just me. My sisters came here too." She takes a brief look around and frowns. "This was a tragedy. There are more souls here than I can handle on my own."

How many had died? You widen your eyes, a motion that doesn't go unnoticed by Göll.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bum you out." Her eyes fill with tears. "I'm terrible at this."

You can't help but snort. She is an animated person. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you glance at your body once again in sadness. Göll is right; it's time to move on. As much as it pains you, it's time to leave your life on Earth. Warm tears gather in your eyes, but you blink them away and saunter toward her. Göll notices and smiles.

"There's no need to worry. I'll guide you."

She offers her hand to you, but once you take it, a strange sensation overcomes you. Something tightens simultaneously around your ankles and before your eyes, a red cord appears, flickering in and out like a light. Göll squeals in alarm.

"W-what is that?" She asks.

"You don't know? I thought you were a Valkyrie."

Leaning down, you snatch fearfully at the cord, seeing that it's transparent. What is this? It almost looks like a red string of fate. But how can this be? It's in the wrong area.

When it doesn't seem to be hurting you, besides giving you a major craving for sweets, you calm down, though your heart is pounding. It's impossible to tell where the cord is leading; it twists and coils through the rubble like a snake, going further than you can see.

"What do I do?" Göll asks out loud.

She taps her green high-top sneaker on the ground and groans.

"I'll have to take you to my oldest sister. She'll know what to do."

Grasping your shoulder, a blinding bright light surrounds you. For a moment, you fear being trapped in the light, but quickly it fades. You drop to your knees and rub at your eyes.

"Warning next time."

Göll apologies.

"I'm sorry. Please wait here, I'll be back."

You hear her sneakers squeak on the floor as she rushes away, leaving you alone. With your eyes clear, you glance around to see that you are in a bare room no bigger than a bedroom; there's honestly nothing in it. Where did the Valkyrie take you?

Standing with a grunt, you saunter toward the door, checking to see whether it will open or not. It isn't locked, so you know that you aren't a prisoner. A long marble corridor stretches out on either side of you, but as far as you can tell there is no one around. You take an uneasy breath, shutting the door. Göll had asked you to remain in the room, so you plan to do just that. You aren't certain, but a part of you wants to believe that she is going to do you no harm; she seems nice enough, and a nervous wreck perhaps.

It was nice of her to try and comfort you. Though you reckon it's her job to show sympathy toward lost souls. You feel no less grateful to her. It had been a shock to see your body lying in the dirt; the lifeless look in your eyes nearly shattered you.

And then there is this.

You lift your right leg and watch the red cord flicker in and out. It's a tether; it can't be anything else. But who is on the other end?

And what does this mean for me?

The door comes open with a sudden low click and in saunters Göll and a beautiful woman wearing an elegant white dress with gold and navy detailing. Her piercing eyes observe you in a way that makes you uneasy like you are on the receiving end of a judgmental interview.

"Lift your leg."

Can she not ask nicely? Her tone is demanding, but you can hear the interest in it. Hesitantly you bend your knee and watch as she leans down to have a look; a section of her midnight blue hair falls over her shoulder as she does.

"What does it mean?" Göll asks.

The older Valkyrie stands and hums.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Y-you don't?" Göll questions with a squeak.

A deep sigh comes from her sister as she closes her emerald eyes in thought.

"Calm down. I know that it's a God Tether... But for whatever reason this soul has it I don't know."

"This soul has a name," you mention giving it. "You can talk to me. It's a fate string, isn't it?"

She hums.

"It's known as a God Tether here but means the same I imagine as your interpretation of it."

"But do souls have tethers?" You ask.

The woman shakes her head.

"I've never heard of a soul possessing a tether; it's for the living. Is this the first time you've seen it?"

You're certain this is the first time. You nod.

"Very well," she utters. "This warrants an investigation. Come with me."

Raising a brow in question, you watch her turn and saunter toward the door; the feather train hemmed into the inside of her dress slides across the floor as she walks. You glance at Göll a moment in uncertainty, humming as she nods to assure you that it's fine.

As you step out into the corridor, the smooth-tongued woman turns to you.

"What sort of living arrangement suits you?"

You raise a brow in question, having been put on the spot. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

"Um... I guess comfortable and simple, but honestly anything will do."

"Göll, have someone prepare this room," she orders.

Tensing, the expressive teen nods and rushes off leaving you with her. You avert your eyes at her in question.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Brunhilde; the eldest of the Valkyrie sisters," she answers with a grin. "Now come this way."

Following her, you survey the area. There isn't much to look at as far as you can tell. The walls are decorated in elegant gold trim and some of the rooms you pass are locked with electronic keypads which is strange to you, as they appear technological; far too 20th century for a 12th-century Valkyrie to have. Did they advance with the times? Perhaps they've always had this technology and mankind just took its time.

"How many Valkyries are there? I recall reading that the number is uncertain."

Brunhilde peeks over her shoulder at you for a moment, then averts her attention to the path ahead.

"There are 13 of us."

That's a lot less than you had expected. Upon meeting Göll you had known that things were not exactly as the history books had written them to be. The question of how much intrigues you.

"And you guide souls from every corner of the Earth?" You ask.

"The human realm is known as Midgard and the God realm in which you reside is known as Valhalla, or as you know it, Heaven. Gods from every pantheon live here," Brunhilde explains. "But to answer your question, yes, we do."

Interesting. You had always assumed Valkyries only led warriors to Valhalla. This discredits a lot of theories about death in general, like there being reapers.

"Do you know a lot about God Tethers? Or fate strings as you call them," Brunhilde suddenly asks.

Peering behind you for a moment, the cord slides along the floor.

"Only what media and fanfiction taught me about them. They're called the Red String of Fate and it links you to your soulmate. But I’ve always heard that the string is around a person’s pinkie, not their ankles.”

"Then you aren't aware that a God is the one who tethers predestined humans?" Brunhilde questions.

"I wasn't aware... But it makes sense."

You frown in response. Fate is only a concept to some it seems.

Brunhilde laughs uncouthly, a noise that doesn't match her demeanor.

"You seem upset."

"That some God is yanking people around like puppets on a string, yes," you answer honestly. "It doesn't seem fair and now even in death it can't be escaped."

You don't understand it at all.

"But that's not entirely true...is it? I'm a unique case or else you wouldn't be speaking to me."

"I'm merely curious," Brunhilde answers.

She stops at the end of the corridor, behind a railing that overlooks an enormous roofless stadium with thousands of seats. Your eyes widen in amazement.

"What is this place?"

"This is the Valhalla Arena. At the moment it stands as a precaution but that matters not at this time," Brunhilde answers.

You wonder what she means by this, but taking into account her entire answer, you know it isn't your place to ask. Perhaps it is a form of entertainment for the Gods and nothing more.

I doubt it, however.

With an uneasy sigh, you glance at her.

“Somewhere out there is the one I’m bound to.”

“Yes… so until I know who they are, I’d like you to remain here,” Brunhilde concludes.

You hum in understanding. Of course, you are curious, but the unknown unnerves you.

“Who is the God who put the string on me?”

Brunhilde grins.

“His name is Yue-Lao. He is known around China as the God of Love and Marriage. And for some reason, he has taken it upon himself to tether the dead.”

You get the feeling that Brunhilde wants to know why just as much as you do.

“I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

“As one would hope,” Brunhilde states.

You have no idea how long this investigation will last, but you are willing to wait it out for clarity.

I’m dead… there’s not much else I can do.

For once time is on your side.  

[childofthewolvess]

Hello! I've come across your page and I'd just like to ask, what is a spirit worker? Like, what does it entail?

What is a spirit worker?

Hey there! Thanks for the question! To give a broad definition for basic understanding:

A spirit worker is anyone who works with spirits/ghosts within their practice.

However, the definition of "spirit worker" may vary from person to person! Some use it interchangeably with "psychic." Some psychics, especially in the Hollywood scene, talk to spirits/ghosts of relatives of their clients, which would make these "psychics" a spirit worker—I think a lot of the time, in fact, spirit workers are falsely called "psychics" because the term "spirit worker" is not as widely recognized or used outside of practitioner spaces. You know those shows with the ghost hunters (who are terrible at what they do, most of the time, but point still stands)? Those are spirit workers! I think of it like somewhat of an umbrella term.

That being said, here are some things that being a spirit worker entails! This is not a list of requirements whatsoever, but some of the things that I, as a spirit worker, do. Some of these are things other spirit workers do. It all depends! But to give you an idea:

Communicating personally with spirits/ghosts of an entity that was previously living in the physical world

Conveying messages for others of which a spirit/ghost might want the person to know

Clairsentience—"the ability to perceive emotional or psychic energy that is imperceptible to the five standard senses" (Dictionary.com)

Expanding on clairsentience, developing and maintaining the skill to sense the energies of spirits/ghosts in the physical space

Helping/guiding confused spirits/ghosts to an afterlife

Calming or keeping a lonely spirit/ghost company

Sometimes can refer to the spirit of a living being, and helping said living being to "repair" or "heal" their spirit (I think of this as energy work, personally, but I've heard it used in this context a few times!)

Seeing/visualizing a spirit/ghost of an entity that was previously living in the physical world

If you've got something to add to this list, comment it! I'll edit and put it in.

What does my personal experience look like as a spirit worker?

Personally, I am exclusively an animal/familiar spirit worker. This means I work with the spirits, or even ghosts, of animals that were either once living, or simply energy taking the form of an animal (spirit guides, most of the time). Even more specifically, I am a wolf spirit worker, meaning I communicate with wolf spirits in particular. Wish I could tell you why wolves, but I have not the slightest clue; I've always been communicating with wolf spirits in particular, as long as I can remember. I am clairsentient, meaning I sense and feel the energies of animal spirits and ghosts, and most of them happen to be wolves. I work closely with my two wolf familiars spirits.

In the past, I've even worked with the animal spirit guides of others and communicated/relayed messages for them!

You'll hear this quite a bit in spirit worker communities, but I was born with the skill to communicate and see animal spirits. Even from a young age, I was seeing animal spirits in my dreams, talking to my (very frightened) parents about the different animal ghosts around, and sensing their energies. As I grew older, I had to take time to develop these skills again, as it does take work and practice for any skill. My spiritual practice has been built around my identity as a spirit worker and familiarity (pun intended) with animal spirits in particular.

Important, though: you don't have to be born as a spirit worker! You can become one! Got an interest in ghosts or spirits? You can be a spirit worker!

I've actually been considering opening up familiar readings for other witches that are struggling to communicate with an animal spirit that wants to help out, or calling forth animal spirits for others to become their familiar.

Hopefully that helps to answer your question! Feel free, if you're also a spirit worker and you see this, to leave a reply or reblog explaining your own experience. I love reading and hearing about all the different types of spirit workers! Cheers! <3