#Truly it has been time! But i am a bit more back to being online!

[siduael]

Little Luxintrus doodle-

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[not-so-plus-ultra]

Okay, maybe unpopular opinion time, but I started watching DanDaDan (ADORE it so far) and some of you are starting to become the meme of "that one friend who is too woke" about what happens in the first episode

TW for sexual assault + CW light DanDaDan spoilers if you haven't watched it yet. Its gonna be a bit ranty

First of all I wanna preface this with saying that, if Momo's scene with the aliens impacted you and / or you found it triggering, that's extremely valid. I am not claiming it isn't, specially for people who have any kind of sexual trauma. What I'm gonna say is not about that

What I mean is; I think we have gotten so used to a very big number of anime using sexual assault as a "funny" gag, having characters violate other characters' physical boundaries, or having a token perverted / incestuous / p*do character, all in the name of terrible "comedy" or fanservice, that we have started bracing up for any mention or showcase of sexual assault to be treated as a gag or as a "sexy" thing; specially when it comes to female characters, because sadly they're the victims of this 99% of the time. This, without going over the sexualization of characters in general, even when mundane things are happening

It's a sentiment I understand and share. I hate all of these tropes and "jokes" and it makes me really sad when a series I otherwise like has to include something like that. I actively criticize these kinds of things no matter how big a fan I am of a work in question

However, I think because of all this, we have forgotten that media can choose to use scenarios like that as an actual Bad thing to show. A bad and unfortunate thing that happens to a character that isn't used as comedy or as fanservice

I had heard about the sexual assault scene in DanDaDan prior to watching it, and I had decided I was gonna skip that scene, as I am someone who is both disgusted by these things and has trauma related to them. However while skipping quickly through the scene I thought it didn't look as bad as I was bracing for, so I decided it was something I could stomach. I was really surprised when I saw that the scene was strictly being handled as a bad thing happening to Momo, and that it also ultimately ended up with her escaping her assaulters before anything truly scarring happens

No jokes about the situation per se, no compromising shots other than the fact that she was in her underwear - and regarding that, the fact that she was built like a normal girl, her proportions and physical features weren't presented in any objectifying or exaggerated way, and through the whole scene she was fighting against it and being uncomfortable instead of submitting to the situation or being made to blush and get flustered about it like you can Disgracefully see in many other instances of other shows

DanDaDan is ultimately a horror / paranormal series. It's not as dark as others and it seems it doesn't pretend to be, but bad things are bound to happen. I think that, as long as you do it tastefully, almost any subject can be used for those bad things. Sexual stuff is sadly EXTREMELY misused in anime, and tbh in media in general, but I don't think it has to be a taboo thing to have your characters go through as long as youre not being weird about it

Furthermore, I think it's pretty clear that, at least the parts that have been adapted of this manga so far (I am not a manga reader btw, I have only seen the 5 anime episodes that are currently out, so if the manga later proves me defending it wrong, I'm sorry, and I'd like to hear it), are in part talking about bodily autonomy

Our mcs BOTH get assaulted, but nobody online ever pays attention to Okarun losing his genitals as him also having been assaulted simply because it's presented in a more unrealistic way. His initial motivation in the series is to retrieve his genitals, and even when he seems to have gotten them back the first time, something is still wrong (another part missing) and he can't just go about his life normally again as if nothing had happened, which I think is a clear metaphor of a victim's feelings after having been assaulted; and what is more, our first arc ends with the revelation that the ghost who did that to him seems to have done it to protect the place she's bound to, a tunnel, from men, for we get told that many girls have gotten sexually assaulted, killed and dismembered in it

About Okarun, I DO get that his situation is shown in a bit of a silly light because haha penis, but I am also afraid that people would have reacted a lot more if he was a girl losing his genitals instead even if it was painted in the same light. Both Momo and Okarun got out of the situation fighting, both of them were brave and as nonchalant as they could to their assaulters, but it's only Momo's situation which gets treated as the bad one. Both get terrible things done to them ! And both of them are being shown as bad things !

None of this means you personally can't be uncomfortable with any of the mentioned scene; after all, they're portraying something horrible that happens in real life. And again, I get that in Momo's case, although unrealistic elements are involved, the situation she's put in can look closer to a real life assault, and thus, it can be more triggering. But the fact is that the sexual assault of both characters is being used to showcase a terrible thing, it's not there just for a gag or for people to put their eyes on the characters' bodies, and I personally just think it's silly when I see people lump in the situations in DanDaDan with series like Undead Unluck, when the former is portraying assault as not only a genuinely bad situation but also as part of the many points I think the first act of the series makes about bodily autonomy, and the later uses it as a reocurring "funny" gag (I have seen people say it gets better later, but still, it's still used as a gag at some point)

This is brought to you by me seeing people on Twitter compare DanDaDan's assault scene to incestuous characters from other animes like Yuri from Spy x Family, Makoto from Saiki K., and Lance from Mashle. I am a big fan of two of those three series and let me tell you: those characters can fuck themselves, I don't find haha incest jokes funny or necessary in any piece of media

[jimlingss]

Three years!

Hello, everyone and happy Jimlingss anniversary! Woohoo! It has been three years since my official retirement and eight years since I’ve began this blog. That’s absolutely crazy since it all feels like yesterday. Time flies when you’re having fun.

First and foremost, thank you to all who still send me messages and give me feedback on my stories! I do check back once in a while and read everything, so nothing goes unnoticed. Your kind words always make me miss the simpler days of writing. :’) It really gets me nostalgic.

Second, here is my yearly update!

I’ve finished my second year of law school! I finished off this year with a bang and did quite well, if I do say so myself. There’s one more year left to go and that’s insane since I remember the first day so vividly. I’m a bit sad for it to be all over — I never thought I’d ever feel this way. But I’ve made so many friends and created so many memories. When it’s all over, everyone will be going their own path. Luckily, I’m sure we’ll remain connected and be close friends no matter what.

I don’t think I’ve had such a positive experience quite like this in all my years of schooling. I’ve always been the type to just scurry on home, never liked what I was studying, and never had too many friends. So this change has been unexpected yet very welcome.

In terms of career, I’ve been working this summer and I have something lined up for when I’m finished school! So soon I’ll be racking in the dough, wooooooo!! Let’s get it!

My family is also doing well — and I feel very fortunate for that. 

Third, and most important, I am happy to announce that I have a boy I absolutely adore! We’ve officially been dating for four months? That seems so short on paper, but we’ve known each other for close to two years! I’m living out one of my friends to lovers fics, I swear (lol).

He’s been a close friend since the start of law school and somewhere along the line I gradually caught feelings (of course I did lmao). I was sure rejection was on the horizon and I wanted to preserve our dear friendship, so I was trying to get over it for months by myself. This included online dating and going on a string of dates (hahaha). I ended up cracking and calling him on the phone one night, but then aborted mission. Thanks to the advice of a friend, I stopped avoiding him and being an embarrassment, and I finally confronted him. He said we should give it a shot, and here we are!

He has brown, curly hair that reminds me of a poodle. And he made me realize why love is so loved — why it’s so revered — talked about — imprinted in each other’s minds. Everywhere. I’ve written countless love stories but never truly experienced the feeling before, and yet, he’s made the heart of my stories come to life. He’s let me live them in real time. 

I really hope it works out! LOL

Anyway, I’m always happy to do these updates and for all those who may be just a bit curious enough about me to check in. Although this is a very positive update (and I hope it continues to be), my life isn’t without its ups and downs either. It just seems to be in a general upwards trajectory. 

Thank you to everyone who still remembers me, and who may still read my stories! I definitely haven’t forgotten about you all, so I hope you haven’t forgotten me either.

Here’s to another year! See you again!

[gingerteawrites]

Drabble: Summer dates

Where Nanami is the most attentive to you.

A/N: I’m so glad to bring you this new drabble. I’ve been thinking a lot of more characters to write about on the blog, but as always, Nanami comes out on top. I have not edited this very thoroughly, so, apologies if it’s a bit clunky.

Please feel free to suggest ideas you would like me to write about, as well as characters from various anime and games you would want to see. I truly love reading your thoughts more than anything.

Content: fluff, established relationship, Nanami X reader. Reader is described in a more feminine manner but no pronouns used.

You and Nanami did not go out together nearly as much as other couples. Between your jobs/studies, jujutsu, and the general fatigue that adulthood seemed to be tied with, most weekends were spent at home, where you shared soft touches and home-cooked meals.

This weekend, however, Nanami had decided that you deserved to get out of the house for things other than just work obligations. As you ate breakfast beside each other, he explained how he planned a day outside for you two.

“This spot has very good pastries. And I know you’ve been wanting to explore the new shopping district in Roppongi,” he said, his voice a smooth rumble, enveloping you in its warmth as you felt your heart squeeze in affection.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, your lips forming a light pout as you reached out to squeeze his hand. He smiled at you and pulled your chair closer to his in one swift motion to deliver a feather-light kiss to your lips “Of course I had to. You deserve everything, my love.” He whispered against your lips, and if you had not been sitting already, you would have crumpled to the floor with the way it made your knees go weak.

With the summer heat hitting Tokyo in insistent waves, you settled on wearing a light sundress that fit snugly at the top and sprawled out until your knees, which had caused you to almost not make it out of the house with the way that Kento had squeezed your waist and kissed your exposed neck, mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

Nanami had ditched his usual suit and tie for a pair of loose white slacks and a brown polo shirt. He locked the door behind the both of you and as you stepped into the sweltering heat, you squinted your eyes at the bright sun. But before you could even comment on its intensity, Nanami pulled out a parasol from the bag he carried, splaying it open above your heads.

His eyes met yours with a knowing look, and you smiled back in silent thanks.

Walking through the streets hand in hand made you feel all giddy. Nanami had never been one for PDA, feeling that Gojo invaded his personal space enough. But being with you had caused him to want to feel a part of your body at all times. Knowing you were in his hold put him at ease, like he could protect you if anything came up.

You finally made it to Roppongi, exiting the train station with the rush of other people out for the weekend. Lunch consisted of cold noodles and refreshing shaved ice, and you bought pastries to eat as a dessert for dinner later in the evening.

“I saw a new bread recipe online, I think it’s called focaccia?” You said as you exited the bakery “I’ll try my hand at it tomorrow.”

“I am sure it would be perfect. We can use it to make sandwiches.” He smiled at your enthusiasm, carrying the conversation toward what to include in the following week’s work bentos.

Your eyes wandered a bit, gasping in excitement when you noticed a new stationery shop in the square, which Nanami gladly led you two to, entering the store with the tune of a small bell’s jingle. You were browsing their sticker collection when Nanami’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

His eyebrows knit at the intrusion, and his finger immediately went to reject the call, wanting to focus all his attention on you. But you, noticing the caller ID insisted on him picking up the video call. He turned away from you and pressed the green button.

“Nanamiiiiiiiiiiiin” Yuji’s voice greeted loudly, with a wide grin pulling at his lips, causing Nanami to wince slightly at the boy’s energy. “Fushiguro you owe me, see? He actually picked up!” He snickered, flipping the camera towards a scowling Megumi.

Nobara peered from behind Yuji, gripping onto his shoulder and pulling at it roughly so she could see the screen better “Oh! Are you in Roppongi!?” she exclaimed, immediately recognizing the surroundings. Yuji’s own eyes went wide, as he brought the phone closer to his face “Oooooh, Nanami-san is enjoying himself without us!” the boy added.

Nanami grunted lightly, raising an eyebrow at his students’ shenanigans “If you all don’t have anything to say, I’m hanging up,” he announced.

You snickered lightly at the scenario unfolding before you, but accidentally dropped a roll of washi tape you had been examining. It rolled towards Nanami’s feet and before you could bend down to pick it up, your man beat you to it, causing you to inadvertently come into view on the video call.

“Is that Y/N-san??” Nobara asked, catching a glimpse of your face “You look so pretty today!” she said, and Yuji greeted you enthusiastically. “I told y’all not to call. See, they’re probably on a date.” Megumi scolded his mates, lips pressed together.

You waved at the group, Nanami moving aside so you took most of the screen. “Hi everyone, I hope you’ve all been enjoying your break,” you said, the melody of your voice prompting them to go on about their summer break activities.

You chuckled when they explained their antics, revealing that they had grown bored and bet on which one of their teachers would pick up the phone off-duty. Surprisingly, even the ever-available Ichiji had turned off his phone, causing the students to almost lose all hope.

Nanami watched your face as you effortlessly conversed with his students, his initial irritation easing, replaced by a fond look. You eventually waved your goodbyes, not wanting to neglect your date.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Megumi said sheepishly. “I’ll send you a picture of me trying on that shade!” Nobara added. “You should try the revolving sushi! Byeeee!” Yuji waved off, before cutting the call.

“They completely forgot I was even here,” Nanami commented, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You chuckled at his words, your hand finding his as you softly intertwined your fingers.

“Shall we get the kids some souvenirs?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked up at your lover. He melted under your gaze, a small smile gracing his features as he brought your hand to his lips. How could he ever say no to you? “Of course my love.” You did not realize just how weak this man was for you.

[arcanegifs]

On Gifmaking:

So season 2's coming soon, and I wanna reflect on making gifs ever since I came back to Tumblr. I can't believe it's been 2 years of making gifs for this show!!!!! Look at how large my folder is lmao

And those are JUST gifs lol

Anyways, over time, my style has changed, especially how I color edit Arcane gifs. I kind of strayed away from a stylized filter color into just something that looks a lot more "natural" and works with the original scene.

Initially, I thought I'd save time, but I ended up not using my old arcane preset PSDs and resulted to coloring almost every scene manually. So in the end, it takes even longer to make them HAHAHA. It takes around an hour and a half for me to make a 10 gif set, basically. It also helps that I have a photography background, so coloring/editing is a lot simpler for me.

Here's a lil before and after of a dark scene (hiiiii viiiiiii <3)

Arcane is a REALLY dark show, but it goes for most of TV shows. Many of them are darker and harder to bring up the lights to make stuff look nice as gifs. Some people don't like to color their gifs, and that's okay. I personally just like color edited gifs more.

I've started learning how to upscale scenes myself, so that I have a better resolution and leeway to make things look "HD" more.

If you're wondering why my stuff look so "crisp", it's a combination of the scene's lighting, my sharpening settings on Photoshop and knowing how to upscale everything into 4k resolution. Of course, doing this needs an extremely beefy pc, which I am very lucky to own one.

Here's another before and after of a nicely lit scene. These are much, MUCH easier to do than all the darkly lit scenes because of shadows and lighting (caitlyn kiramman truly the rizzler <3)

I've been very lucky to be able to essentially take a nice, long break for like a month doing nothing after being so damn busy for the last year and a half, so it's nice that I was able to make a ton of gifs and be chronically online for a short while LMAO.

It's been so fun! But it's time to go back to reality lmao. I closed reqs for a bit because I was just so swamped with them the last few days, and I wanted to gif scenes that I like this time. I've done like 2 weeks worth of gifs. And you will see Vi a lot bc she's on my mind a lot heehee 🥰what can I say, she's such a babe <3

Here's a lil sneak peek, just look at herrrrrrr 🥰🥰🥰 and yeah, 4k upscaled resolution really helps making these tight crops, it's why i never went back to 1080p lol. It's how I’m able to make zoomed in gifs look decent (like the kirammountains gifset lol)

Thank you so much for all the support, likes, reblogs, and the nice tags you guys give. Yes, I can see and read all of them (both the nice and nasty ones lmao). If you have nothing good to say about the characters or my editing style, or anything related to the edit, please I beg you, just write a separate text post about it <3 If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it in my edits.

Lastly, thank you to the people who share my stuff outside the site and credit the blog and link them back here. I see you and appreciate you <3 You guys don't know how much I appreciate shoutouts and link backs, because people stealing my gifs is something that I've dealt with after making them for like a decade.

Tumblr is sadly not what it used to be in the 2013-2015 era. There’s definitely less activity as time goes by, so I appreciate all the people who credit and link back to this sideblog. Unfortunately, there’s more people who just repost them and it gets wayyy much more traction in other soc med sites. Yeah, ofc I get a lil jealous, but eh what can you do 😞 can’t really stop em.

I also don’t like putting watermarks because it personally looks tacky to me, but I understand why other people do it.

Anyways, if you reached at the end of this lil rambling of mine, thank you! I sadly might be busy during November because that's usually busy season, but I'll try to make time for making gifs of Season 2! Thank you and enjoy your stay on this lil sideblog :)

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

PICK A CARD / PICK A PILE : WHAT DO YOU NEED TO REMEMBER? TIME TO MOVE ON AND LET GO OF OLD ENERGY.

I'm so excited to do this one. This is to help you get into that goddess frequency a bit more. So everyone who's connected to their divine feminine should definitely let go and see what's in store for them in the future. Are you ready? Lets go!

PILE 1 - Dedicated Effort / Love Abounds

This group needs to dedicate time to building an altar for themselves. Mirror work should be done frequently, and more openly. Letting the world shape your perception has helped you forget who you truly are in the inside. So working through those emotions and ideas of yourself through the mirror is what's perfect for you in the long run. In the mean time, taking you're self out to cute solo trips & dates, making money in some online business of some sort (or may through apps) can be a way to bring more self-love to you. Capricorn energy is precise with this group, as it's felt heavily. Money-making abilities is strong with this group and could be the reason for any lack of self love. You're a Goddess and can attract money like no other, so put more focus in your finances and you'll see a new you blossom in the new few months, easy. Use your reality as inspiration on where to get the community to follow your lead. As you do lead by example, let them surprise you with whatever it is you need help with, this is also related to a business. I think ya'll should get into it ;)

PILE 2 - Joy & Stability / Share The Love

You guys have strong, beautiful auras. Full of deep love and compassion for all that you meet. Your beauty is expressed in the way you help others and be of service to them. You may have dealt with people who've played with your kindness and made it out to be a weakness but that is not the case. Be more open to embracing this true beauty as it is a wonderful gift, and it will propel you high in life if you allow it. Remember that your value is higher than most can put a price on. Your built for a reality that is out of other peoples leisure. Luxury, Beauty, and Love is a theme for this group because you're meant for bigger and better things, am I right? So don't lose your head about what others think of you to be. You're much more than that. Another thing I want to say for this group is to live a little, share the bounty of joy you carry in you and never waver it for people as this is a healing gift for a few of you. Never take your happiness lightly, its a blessing after all.

PILE 3 - Patience & Planning / Rest & Rejuvenate

You guys need to hold on and smell the roses a little. Take a needed vacation and get out of town. Revise a little. You guys need to cope with something related to the past and spend more time giving yourself that needed love and attention you've been holding off on. Be more open to seeing the bigger picture to where your life is headed. You're a star waiting to burst, you know that right? You need time to move slower than usual because now is not the time to rush things and dive head first. Doing that will only cause problems in the long run, stress may have been big for this group.. but I want ya'll to know that stress can't run the show forever, you gotta choose you at some point. Whatever and WHOever is burning you out needs to be cut short so that you can breathe. So that you can believe what's in store for you will come when it's time and not when you feel it should be. Just be open to what God/Universe/The Divine has in store for you for the next 5-6 months, ok? k :)

PILE 4 - Take the Lead / Giving & Receiving / Love

This group has tiger strength. Phoenix energy. You guys have been through a lot so to speak. And because of all you've been through, you've made it back up to your most godly self. Confidence is a theme for this group and being the star of the show. You have to let go and be the main character of your reality, no matter who's tuning in. Jealousy/Envy is another theme for this group because secret enemies (for a few it could be close friends and family) could be the reason you've felt so down about yourself. And now you're literally being called to be in the spotlight in some way or form. Try vlogging, or speaking your truth or about topics you love, showing off your beautiful looks, and even just being an open arm for people in your life and your community. Finding a way to allow your spark to show is something significant for this group. So I hope that helps in the long run, be blessed.

[herejusttosufferalong]

The Ireland stops of the tour left me feeling, L N had gone forward with being a couple, like they finally talked the real talk, decided to be with each other and maybe an agreement was made, that L will phase out A quietly and swiftly. Maybe they decided to date privately first with a plan to go subtly public after a few months. They just had that happy, happy, happy, confident, content, coming-into-their-truth energy. And the meet-the-family in Galway, that was quite the trust-fall for N and quite the "I am in this for the long run" for L.

Then London happened and I can't help but think, what if N was totally blindsided by that? Maybe L himself has not orchestrated the pap walk, but at the end of the day he allowed someone to be in his circle, who was shady enough to do that.

It would be such a blow for N on a professional level alone, it impacted how S3 part 2 was received and the timing of pap  walk was a f u to all her hard work on Polin. But imagine they really came to an understanding in Ireland to be together. That would so hurt on a personal level as well. And N seems to sort of have drawn back since then. Online N has not been the same and the pure joy that she oozes usually, seems to have been dimmed a bit.

The tt, her forced L support, NY, him appearing down the last weeks and msny more little pieces- it all adds to the puzzle. I truly wonder, if they are even talking rn.

I think what little glimpses we will see, when season 4 filming starts, will give us an idea if L N things are truly broken beyond repair. They will work together well, both are too professional to not do that.

But if there is no "Polin 2024" pic this year and if they have separate make-up trailers I will cry myself to sleep till Christmas.

did everyone wake up today and take a shot of depresso???

[word-wytch]

✨ Life Update ✨

Hello everyone,

I have not been active here in months and wanted to fill you in on what has been transpiring in my life. All very good things, but it has undoubtedly taken my attention away from fandom and writing and into the more physical, tangible world -- a therapy for me that has been necessary on my creative and personal journey.

Back in October my coworker found a stray kitten that I fell in love with at first sight, but my home was a mess so I spent 3 weeks cleaning and organizing and getting it cat-ready while she fostered him. Over this time I discovered how therapeutic the act of cleaning -- something I had always seen as a tedious chore -- truly was. I began to look forward to the satisfaction of wiping away years worth of dust and grime, how I could lose myself in the moment and relish in simple, physical action, and delight in the finished result. In reality, all that really needed to change was my attitude and my relationship to cleaning. It has become like a therapy to me, and I was able to fulfill a dream of hosting a dinner party for friends after years of construction on our very old house prevented us (my partner and I) from doing so.

This is Munkustrap (aka Munk, Munko, baby kitty) named after my favorite and hottest cat from the musical Cats.

Anyway he's literally a perfect angel (and sometimes a poopyhead) but as he is a 6 month old kitten, he requires a lot of my attention. My days now begin and end with feeding and playing with him, and the physical interaction has been so welcome and therapeutic.

In my other real-world endeavors, I have been devoting quite a bit of time to another beloved artform, which is songwriting. In my day job I work at a nonprofit youth arts organization and have been training a new receptionist and also teaching songwriting and performing at the organization with the kids in my class. I have also been active in the dance company I am a part of as well.

It has become vitally important for me to devote time to engaging with my local artistic community, so I have been getting out in the real world and attending local shows. My community is small and my voice and presence in it, as all our voices are, is important. Just as our voices are in online communities, however large or small.

Though I have prioritized my physical world over my virtual one in the past few months, I have still been peripherally engaged, keeping a pulse through close friends and discord servers. And I have been writing, though not as often as I used to. It is not the center of my current life situation and that is ok.

I do intend on continuing and completing DSSCTM, though I am unsure of the timeline on that. Right now I am more focused on being rather than doing, but I sense that when I return to the realm of writing I will do so with a renewed sense of excitement, passion, and joy.

I love you! 🎢💕

[cerastes]

Hey. It's been a while. I think it's right to update you on stuff so tl;dr I'm probably not going to be around for some time, and if I am, it'll be in a diminished capacity, but if you're interested, do check under the cut. I'll also immediately state that I am not in any dangerous situation, it's other stuff, but I'll immediately dispel that before the cut just in case you just wanted to know that in particular.

Let's talk for a bit.

Long story short, the economy here is in shambles. The idea was for me to already have a new job, but that's not gone according to plan. I've been eating into my savings for a while now, and the people that told me that I had a job lined up for me September or at the latest October, meaning, this month, have been ghosting me. It seems to not be an option anymore, and no explanation was ever given to me. A shame, because it came from a place of relative trust.

This has eaten away at my nerves somewhat, and though it is the month of my birthday, I can't help but notice that, between the economy being this bad here, how hard it's been to land another job, and the fact that I'm eating into my savings, well, it's got me more than a bit worried. I'm not in any immediate danger of losing the roof over my head, or starving, or anything like that, but after a few months of "well, my savings take yet another hit this month with no end in sight", it's been rather rough, you'll understand, and it's compounded a bit. For just a second, and not as a primary, secondary, or even tertiary plan, more like a twenty-eighth measure if anything, I did entertain the dark idea of maybe asking for a bit of help here, and the moment that thought came up, I realized, "Ok, this is truly and well affecting me, I never want to do that", because, again, it's not like I'm in any immediate danger of homelessness or anything that grave, but it's been weighting on me enough that, even as a distant glint in the horizon of an idea, I did consider it. I don't want to sound like I'm blowing my own horn here, but for over a decade that I've had this blog, and the community/following/whatever you want to call it that has grown around it, I've never once asked for something like monetary help, because I think that can be a slippery slope. I've seen people far bigger than me, and some smaller, too, get addicted to asking for donations or help, or simply start taking it for granted when they ask for such a thing. My friends will tell you I writhe in agony when I receive a gift such as a game or something over the mail. My logic is that I don't need it, not in a proud way, but rather, in a "I wish you would spend this money on yourself instead, or on someone that truly needed it". With this in mind, I realized that, for me to even slightly consider that as an option, for the first time in my life, it meant that it was biting away at me far, far more severely than I thought. It's translated to other parts of my life as of late; I've not been depressed or anything, but I've felt this itch, this remarkably implacable feeling of "my man, you don't deserve to be taking it easy right now, something has to change, progress needs to be made".

I went out to wander for a few days, then arrived at my cousin's farm. He and his wife live a humble, hard working life, he invited me to stay for a while, I accepted, it was real nice, we hanged out, went exploring creeks and mountainsides while knocking back a few beers, the whole shebang for two guys that grew up in the middle of nowhere. Anyhow, it's true that the whole exposition that was the previous paragraph is something at play, but I also just... Haven't really wanted to be online at all. I don't want to check anything, read anything, and I feel a deep sense of alienation that I've not really felt in a long time. I suppose this is one of those good ol' Bro Is Going Through It, if we're to summarize it in a few words. It's easy for me to dispel negative thoughts and bounce back normally, because I've done a great deal of personal building and homework on knowing myself inside out, but not even this black belt in Drimobrain has helped this time around, and well, it bothers me, obviously, bwahaha. It's the first time in a few years that I really sincerely do not understand what's up with me, and while it's not really something I would consider me being rock bottom or anywhere near those depths, I do think I'm still below surface level, which is something I don't admit to easily, but have no choice to. I would love to be able to give this malaise shape and firmness through written or spoken word, but right now, it's a work in progress.

What bothers me the most is the sense of alienation I spoke of before: It makes no sense for me to feel this way, I'm treated with love and kindness every day, no one's silencing me in any way, I don't deal with barbs or hostility. So why is it that that's how I feel? Or perhaps it's something that feels similar, but I've no clue what it is, so I'm compounding it with alienation?

Regardless, it's all compounded into me just... Not wanting to be online. In the words of a friend of mine, "Dreamer has a fetish for self-development and growth", and, well, yeah, she's got that right despite the wording, I like to feel as if I'm improving every day and becoming better every day, even if slightly, and right now I feel like I'm just degenerating. Is it because my mood has been sour overall? Maybe. It might as well just be the fact that I Just Don't Want To Be Online For A While, and capricious clown that I am, if I want to do something, I do it, and if I don't want to do something, I don't do it. I'm tied to nothing and no one except my desire and drive to do or not do things. I can't change that, nor do I want to change that. And in this case, my heart's said to me, "fuck going online, go out, do things, try to get a job".

I also almost got recruited into something fucking vile that I thankfully noticed in time to avoid, but that's a story for another time.

There you have it. Am I leaving the internet/blue website forever? No, of course not, I like it here. Are things hard right now? They are, to be honest. Are they the worst it could be? Not at all. Do I have complete clarity of what's up with this fog inside of my head? No, and that bother me quite a bit. Are things going to be alright? Yeah, I think they will be.

I do regret it's in October of all months that this is going on, because it's where my shitposting power is at its apex due to my birthday, but hey, things happen, not necessarily for a reason, but they can be handled in such a way that it gives them meaning. I'm a fervent believer in that. I'm sorry this isn't the update you may have been hoping for, full of Lucina cosplayer blowjobs and other such hijinks, but hey, they can't all be Rainbow Road, haha.

So in case we don't see each other for a while, I hope you're all doing fine and dandy. I'm alive, I'm trying to be well, and most importantly, most fundamentally, most quintessentially,

I stay silly.

[cupids-chamber]

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐒

Hi, so I'm going on an indefinite hiatus. This is a impromptu decision, so I don't know if I'll come back in like a day and correct myself. But I've been debating on this decision for a long time, so yea.

[ below the undercut you'll find some of my reasons for this decision, and etc, I'd be grateful if you take your time reading it. ]

I don't feel comfortable as 'Cupid', I guess it's because 'Cupid' was never supposed to be my persona, she was just an oc who's running this blog, and it was supposed to be fun, mini lore bits, or whatever, and I thought the idea was really cool back then. . up until people started calling me Cupid.

I guess overtime, I never made a serious effort to correct it, so like it just became me? But like as shit went on and on and on . . It felt weird, I guess a sort of imposter syndrome or like identity crises started forming? I . . didn't feel like myself, I guess I felt like whatever 'Cupid' was.

And as months passed with this sort of identity crises, I started questioning my personality, my interests, if my friends here truly liked me, or if I was more open or idk myself? If they'd still like me? I'm not a chronically online person, in fact I've realized pretty recently that I hate staying in one place, I love the outdoors, and if I could I'd socialize more, but I also overthink and get embarrassed easily. I don't like being on my pc 24/7, yes it's something I still do, but I feel terrible after doing so.

I actually picked up certain interests I've had in the passed again, and I've felt more like myself. I don't know, I think I've realized that my relationship with this blog has been unhealthy, it's always been unhealthy, and my identity crises was the least extreme problem I've had due to this blog.

Actually, the game, the controversies, the fights, everything I've experienced on this blog, has left lasting physical damage on my body, I can't handle anxiety, I can't handle stress, and it's because the moment I get anxiety, stressed, or begin to overthink, I get immensely nauseas, I'm stuck in the bathroom, and if I don't throw up it feels worse, I can't eat, I'm unproductive for hours if one things ticks off my anxiety. I feel unlike myself, and the thing is, I can't fix it, it's just how I'm now. I have pills I have to take for this itself, and honestly they've not been 100% helpful.

Alongside abundance of other problems, mental breakdowns, and so much more shit, this blog has truly done nothing but make everything so much worse for me. If I had one good day or week with this blog and the people around me, I can expect a month of bad in return, and there comes a point where I genuinely cannot fake confidence out of it.

I genuinely think I need to dissociate from 'Cupid', she's not me, I'm not her. As I'm typing this, I genuinely wonder, what am I truly? Up until now my identity, was what I formed through 'Cupid', and honestly I don't even know where I'm going with this, I genuinely am just . . done. I'm tired. I've tried, I have not succeeded in overcoming any problems this blog has caused me.

I think a part of me is so attached to this blog, because of 'Cupid' and of course because it helped me out of my depressive pit, but as these last few weeks pass, and I edge closer to my final year before university, I feel myself returning to that depressive pit, worse than ever . . so at that point, I can't help but ask myself, what was the point of me staying on this blog despite the clear signs and warnings for me to leave?

I really don't know where I'm going with this, but I'm really grateful for everyone who has followed this blog, who have given me the chance to improve my writing. I guess it's time for a genuine goodbye? Because as I'm writing this, I don't really plan on coming back and that's the honest truth, with every hiatus I try and dance around a final goodbye but after this week I genuinely think this is the best decision for myself.

Note : Kindly do not call refer to me as 'Cupid', or anything if you plan on responding and if you do want to remain in contact with me, please message me for my new discord account. I probably won't respond fast as I try and maintain a distance from this account and don't bother contacting me on discord, I'm taking a break from the account as well <3

[mayasaurusss]

being brought into lottie’s intentional community as a dance teacher to give her acolytes expressive arts therapy but noticing she never participates in the classes…so you get her alone and try to convince her to let go and dance with you

"Why do you never attend my dance classes?"

A gasp leaves Lottie and she puts a hand on her heart after you almost give her a heart attack. Lottie feels her blod run cold at your words, the shame of begin found out running through her veins, "I...uhm".

Months passed since you've been hired at Lottie's wellness centre. She had emailed you late at night, having seen your announcment online for your dance course. "Everyone needs to loose up a bit here" she wrote, "and I am sure this would be a great opportuinty for you too". Lottie had offered a great deal to you, paying you more than the course ever could and gave you a roof to sleep under. The lessons had started with the coming of spring and many had attended them. The first time the room in which you taught was overcrowded with people and you had to ask Lottie permission to teach outside. The dances ranged from quick to slow, from energetic to calm.

Many had loved your approach to teaching and came to attend your lessons regularly, hoping to blow off some steam or aimed to occupy their minds with joy. But not Lottie.

You adore Lottie. She's nice, calm, lovley and funny and you always love to spend time with her. But as the months grew colder so did her affection towards you. No matter how many times you asked, Lottie never came to your lessons. "It will be fun!" you say, but she quickly denies with the most unreasonables of excuses, "N-No I need to go buy heliotrope paint. For uhm, painting the crates...".

It's obvious that Lottie is avoiding you. You don't know why, you don't know how, but you sure as hell will find out.

You approached her at the end of the day. She had just ended one of her seminars and you had finished teaching hours ago. The room is dark except for a single light that shines down on where Lottie is gathering her things before heading out.

"So, why don't you?" Lottie gets increasly more uncomfortable as you repeat yourself, a thin tear of sweat falling from her temple. "Uh, I, you know I have been so busy recently...".

"Bullshit!" you shout at her, making her ears hurt and reel back, "I know you aren't! 'I need to go buy heliotrope paint for painting the crates' my ass! Those things have been left to rot for months now and just as I ask you to join my classess, you've suddenly got interested in them?!".

What you don't know is that for the last months, Lottie's been falling in love with you. It wasn't like that at first. She simply saw you as an employer, as a coworker, as a person and now as someone she falled deeply in love with. Her feelings were small at first, as they usually are. A little nod here, a small smile there and a little ache in her heart, as if it was pierced by a spine.

Then that wound got bigger: as the smiles and looks grew so did that warm feeling in her heart, so much that it pained her. When Lottie understood where her feelings came from, she got scared. She hadn't allowed herself to truly feel anything ever since she got back and to do so now would be childish. So she hides it.

She doesn't look at you, she doesn't talk to you, both in fear that wound of hers gets bigger and to see the hurt in your eyes. That is until you personally confront her.

"So, Lottie? Has the cat eaten your tongue?" that accusatory tone of yours only serves to make her blood run colder and colder. "Or do you simply not like me?" she can feel how hurt you are and an instinct inside her screams to confort you, to held you in her arms, to kis-.

"No, no! I swear it's not what it looks like" she begs for you to listen to her, for you to just let her-. "Then what is the problem, Lottie?" she can't find the right words, can't find the stenght to be thrutful to herself and you. So she lies, "I..." "I can't dance" she knows that the words come out wrong, a hint in her voice suggests that she's lying.

"What?" both you and her know that the conversation you're about to have is fake, built on her lie, but you let her speak. "I can't dance and I am embarassed to do so" she looks away from you so she can't see the doubt in your eyes. Lottie is about to walk away when you give your hand to hers.

"Take my hand" she looks at your palm for a moment, before asking, "W-What?" it's like her brain can't understand what's happening.

You try to send the message by moving your hand in front of her eyes, then sigh and taking it yourself. "Just...just shut up and take it" Lottie moves and now you grip at both her hands. Despite her towering over you, she's putty in your hands.

"So just follow my example, alright?" it takes Lottie a moment to understand what you mean, but once she feels you move she copies you, unsure of how to.

"One foot in front of the other" she is clumsy, hands shivering and feet twitching, the emotion of begin so close to you getting to her heart. "Alright, you're doing good" you try to reassure her but Lottie is lost in that world of hers, the one where nothing is real and it is still with her. She tries to remember what her therapist once said: 'You have to br-'

'There is nothing else besides you' your voice calls from the end of the room, people surrounding and listening to you. 'There is just you and your human emotions. Let go of anything that scares and worries you' for a moment Lottie's eyes look into yours and it's just the two of you alone. 'Be yourself'.

Something moves in Lottie's heart and all the worry and fear is washed away. Now she's the one leading the dance, strong but fair hands guiding you through the space. There is only you and her, dancing to a silent waltz in an empty room. The dance gets more heated by the minute, everything moves and sings and suddenly, it all stops.

Lottie arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your hand in hers. During the dance your bodies moved closer and closer, until you can feel her breath on your lips. "Lottie, I..." she interrupts you abruptly, harsh brown eyes staring into yours, "I lied".

"Y-you do seem to know how to dance after all..." but your joke doesn't reach her ears, "I think... I didn't want you to know". Words don't come out easy and a small feeling of panic rises in her heart, but she remembers your words 'Be yourself'.

"I think I am in love with you" you smile gently at her, enough to make everything else fade, "I know".

[carylmeanslove]

Luke's Floral Message

I had some requests to do a floral meaning for Nicola's Harper's Bazaar Woman of the year photo and I do intend on doing that one soon. I have been quite busy in RL so haven't been in the right head space. I do believe I am coming out of that now and will be able to get to doing that analysis soon.

This one is a quick and easier one seeing as it's one flower. Luke is holding two light pink shades of roses in his People's Sexiest Man Alive 2024 issue photoshoot.

I for some reason am not able to highlight right now. Agh! So I will add the portions that apply below the screen capture.

Joy

✅ Joy and Happiness makes sense for Luke. I mean we can see how he is whenever he is with Nicola. In the 'This or That' that comes along with this article spread he is smiling and looks happy. So that is a yes.

✅ The beginning of a new relationship. I take that to mean a new commitment level in an established relationship. One of the further meanings backs that up. More on that one in a bit.

Tenderness

✅ A love that is tender and enduring. The way Luke always describes Nicola shows how Tender she is to him and he is to her. It's also lasting and enduring. Through all the baseless rumors of them beefing these two never gave up on each other. Nicola stood up for him multiple times and they both still showed they were in contact throughout the time of the rumored "beefing" period. Reminder to people, online interaction isn't the be all and end all of relationships. Nicola and Luke have proved in the past that they talk/text on the phone (Luke was so wanting to say they talk everyday even, but Nicola had to backtrack on that les the cat be let out of the bag about their relationship) and they hang out (They went to the play A Streetcar Named Desire and Hamilton together. She also went to his play The Shape of Things opening night then out to eat afterwards. We also got evidence of her being at his place for the Cinnamon Roll social.) Point is they are part of each other's lives outside of Bridgerton. People who want to not believe that then they are being willfully blind. All that to say that their relationship is enduring and lasting. No loud minority of fans can or will change that. No adjacents (agh I hate that word too) that they very highly likely hired to help them have privacy during a very life-changing time can or will change what they have.

✅ Suitable for long-term relationships. See long-term relationships. Luke and Nicola have known each other for 5 years. Due to some crumbs that Nicola and Luke have been giving us. They are most likely in a very serious, long term committed relationship now.

Femininty

✅ Gentleness. I wonder if Nicola helped him pick out the flower he used in this photo? She has been using flowers a lot lately in sending messages. She is very gentle to him. But he is gentle to her as well.

✅ Love. Biggest duh ever right? They love each other. Our in love pair.

New Beginnings

✅ New beginnings. Yep, their commitment rose to a new level. Deeper commitment.

✅ Purity and Innocence. They have a healthy relationship. A good and wholesome beginning. I truly believe friends to lovers is the most healthy, pure and Innocent beginning for any romantic relationship.

✅ Emotional Interest. Has anyone seen this boy looking at Nicola? He is definitely emotionally interested in her.

I'm manifesting a Nicola photoshoot by Rachell Smith and an article that will go hand and hand with this one. That it will give some more clarity. Much needed for a certain portion of this fandom.

Anyway...there you go. I thank Luke for taking a leaf from his wife's book and sending us these messages in the language of flowers. As well as all the delicious bread crumbs throughout the whole article spread, photoshoot and videos. We love you Luke! Tell Nic Hi for us and that we love her too.

[pulisicsgirl]

spaces between us - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N and Christian's relationships has been strained lately due to conflicting schedules and minimal effort to spend time with one another. Y/N's plan to talk to Christian about it goes awry and drives the couple further apart from each other.

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 5.3k

warnings/tags: angst and arguing (but it turns out okay in the end don't worry), Christian is a little bit of a dick, Y/N is a little bit overdramatic, but also sickening fluff, Christian is a lovesick twat, use of the phrase "whooping and hollering" (I'm sorry, I'm painfully American), hasty proofreading (because I’m posting this at 3 am and I have classes tomorrow morning), and like one suggestive comment

requested: yes!!!

notes: thank you so so much to @chelseagirl98 for sending this request in!! I had so much fun writing it, and I hope it lives up to your expectation! I tried a little something new with the text messages, so let me know what you think of that! Also, I think this is my first time writing a fight/make-up fic like this, so it might not be very good, but I welcome any constructive criticism! :)

As always, requests are still open! Send any ideas my way! 💙

You moved quickly around the kitchen, juggling bowls and ingredients as you did your best to prepare a homecooked meal to surprise Christian with when he got home from training. It wasn’t anything all that special, and you weren’t a five-star chef by any means, but you were trying your hardest—and that had to count for something, right?

For the last several weeks, you had sensed a distance forming between you and Christian. With his busy life as a footballer and your inconsistent work hours, it had been difficult to find time to see one another. On the rarer days that you were home together in the evening, you were both exhausted, quickly finding something to eat (often some takeout delivery that you ordered online) before setting things in order and going straight to bed. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Christian had just sat down to spend time together, sharing a conversation with any amount of substance.

After a particularly bitter morning where the two of you had moved around each other in the kitchen and bathroom without sharing a word or interacting almost at all, you had miraculously gotten out of work early. Deciding that enough was enough, you ran to the store to pick up some ingredients, resolving to cook a nice meal that you and Christian could sit down and eat together. You hoped it would give you a chance to catch up after the last few weeks of simply living in the same house but not truly being together.

It took you about an hour, but you completed the recipe successfully. As you turned off the burner on the stove and began dishing the food onto plates, you heard the jingle of Christian’s keys as he walked through the front door.

“Babe?” you called out. You listened for his footsteps as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was looking down as he came into your view, eyes locked on something on his phone screen. “Hey,” you addressed him uncertainly, wiping your forehead from the heat that had built up in the kitchen from the hour you had spent cooking. Your voice cause his head to snap up to look at you.

“Hey, babe,” he smiled, glancing back at his phone quickly before he turned it off and shoved it in his pocket. He walked around the kitchen island and pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “What’s all this?”

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, hoping for a little more than a side-hug and a kiss on the head from your boyfriend after not seeing him all day. You tried to brush the feeling off.

“I made dinner!” you replied, a hopeful tone to your voice. You pulled from his side to grab his plate, handing it to him.

“Oh thank goodness,” he took a whiff of the food before walking to the other side of the kitchen island, sitting down in one of the tall chairs. He mumbled a quick, “thanks so much, babe,” before he began devouring the food swiftly.

Again, you tried to brush off the weird feeling that washed over you. You knew he must be hungry after a long day of training—they had even gone a bit late today. You tried to focus on the short expression of gratitude instead as you picked up your own plate, choosing to stand across from him, leaning on the countertop so you could face him while you ate.

The two of you remained there in silence, him scarfing down the food like it was his last meal while you just moved the food around the plate as you stared at it, still feeling uneasy.

You opened your mouth to ask about how training had gone that day, hoping to spark a conversation between the two of you, but movement from the other side of the counter caught you off-guard before you could speak. Having cleaned his plate already, Christian stood from his chair, stepping around it before he pushed it in. He moved to the sink, dropping the empty plate in. He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“It was really good, babe. Thank you.” He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna head up to shower.” He stepped to walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

“Are you serious, Christian?” You felt the anger finally spilling over in your chest, the heat rising up your neck an into your face. You were beyond frustrated that all of the effort you had gone to had lasted in a five-minute shared silence before he rushed upstairs to shower and go to bed.

Christian turned back around to face you, eyes wide with confusion. You could see him obliviously wracking his brain for what he had done wrong.

“I’m sorry, I can wash my plate,” he spoke quickly as he took two steps back toward the sink before you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s not about the stupid plate, Christian.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he took a step back from you, surprised by the anger you were displaying. “I went to all this trouble to go get the ingredients and spent all this time to make a home-cooked meal, and all I get is five minutes and ‘it was good, thank you’?”

Christian’s eyes were still wide, taken aback by your reaction. “I’m sorry, it was a really long day. I’m just pretty tired.” The way he said the words made them seem like more of a question.

“You’re always ‘tired’, Christian!” You put air quotes around the word, feeling yourself get more and more worked up about the situation. You felt like now that you were finally voicing your frustrations, all of the emotions were starting to spill over. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks! We never see each other anymore, and I’m sick of living in the same house as my boyfriend, but never seeing him!” You began raising your voice without meaning to and you felt your eyes burning with tears. You mentally cursed yourself for crying so easily when you were angry.

“Y/N, I-“

Sensing another excuse coming on, you cut him off. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning!”

Interrupting Christian and not allowing him to explain himself was a sure way to irritate him, and it immediately put him on the defensive.

“Well, you didn’t kiss me before I left either!” He knew it was a weak defense, but in his frustration, it was the only thing he could come up with. “I’m not the only one in this relationship, Y/N! You could afford to put in a little effort once in a while, instead of just pointing fingers.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, and Christian instantly wished he could take them back, not having meant them at all. “You are unbelievable, Christian. Unbelievable.” You scowled, pushing past him to walk out of the kitchen.

He grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking away, and you shook your head, pulling your arm from his grasp. “No, stop. Come talk to me when you’re ready to act like a half-decent boyfriend.”

You stormed down the hallway to your shared bedroom, slamming the door to the bathroom closed and locking it in case Christian tried to follow you and take back what he had said. Moments later, you heard the doorknob jiggle softly, confirming your prediction.

You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks as you glumly went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth, combing out your hair, and washing your face. You tried to ignore your red and swollen eyes from crying as you looked in the mirror.

Once you had finished, you unlocked the door and walked into the bedroom. You did your best to ignore Christian sitting silently on the side of the bed as you walked over to the closet and changed quickly into your pajamas from the night before, scoffing quietly as you realized that it just entailed one of his bigger T-shirts. Nonetheless, you slipped it over your head and flipped the closet light off, closing the door behind you as you exited.

Without a word, you walked to your side of the bed, pulling the sheets and comforter back, crawling in, and covering yourself up, facing away from Christian.

His heart had broken at the sight of your tear-streaked face before you had climbed into the bed. He knew that it was probably best to give you some space for now, so he stood to collect his things and go take his shower. You didn’t miss the soft sigh that left his lips before he stood.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

You finally allowed yourself to let go, crying out all of the hurt that had built up over the last several weeks. You felt the pain physically in your heart, a hollow feeling in your chest—you were a part of a whole, missing your other half.

It didn’t take long for Christian to finish his shower, and you heard the water turn off. You tried to calm yourself before he left the bathroom, not wanting him to see you in such a weak state after your fight.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Christian moving around the room. You did your best to silence your sniffles, but he still heard them, and he felt the painful cracks in his heart tearing open a little further.

You felt the mattress dip behind you as his weight settled into the bed. His arm appeared in front of your body for a moment and you felt him leaning over you to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled. As petty as you wanted to be, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t say it back to him.

His weight settled into the bed behind you, not daring to pull you into his arms. The light in the room disappeared with the click of the lamp turning off, and the two of you lay there in silence.

A thousand thoughts were running through both of your heads, but you remained on your side with your back turned to him. You wrapped your arms around your torso, attempting to hold yourself for some sort of comfort against the foreign feeling of falling asleep without being tucked into Christian’s side.

*****

Since it was the weekend, the sun was already peeking through the curtains when you awoke. By instinct, you rolled over, reaching toward the other side of the bed, but your hand only landed on the cold, empty sheets. You snapped your eyes open, finding no sign of Christian’s presence, and the memories of your argument from the night before flooded your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated groan, pressing your face further into the pillow. The uneasy feeling that you always had when you and Christian fought settled in your chest, and you spend a few moments staring at the wall, allowing yourself to give in to the self-pity for a moment before getting up to face the difficult situation.

A buzzing sound coming from your bedside table pulled you from your thoughts, and you rolled back over, lazily grabbing your phone from where it was charging. As the screen lit up, you saw that you had a text from Mason.

You dropped your head back on the pillow for a moment with a sigh. Fighting like this wasn’t doing either of you any good—you both knew it, but this was the main problem you two seemed to face. You didn’t fight often, but when you did, you both struggled to get over your own pride and make it up to each other.

You sent the message and threw the sheets off of your legs, deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee and try to wake up. The tiles of the kitchen floor were cold on your bare feet as you walked across them.

You placed your mug under the coffee maker and started it, leaning against the counter. The cold marble touched your back through the thin material of your—well, Christian’s—shirt and the feeling sent a shiver through your body. You tucked your arms around your stomach, trying to find some sense of warmth and comfort in the otherwise bitter morning.

As your thoughts wandered, you found yourself missing the mornings that you and Christian had previously shared in this very kitchen. Lately, you had barely interacted as you moved around each other, making your coffee and packing lunches, barely mumbling a few words to one another. But before all of that, when you had first moved in together, you couldn't get enough of each other in the mornings. You would always find yourself in his arms, standing between his legs as he leaned against the counter. His large hands would run up and down your sides, sometimes finding their way under his shirt that you wore to stroke the bare skin of your back gently. You would nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent while he pressed a kiss into your hair. The only audible noise was the coffee maker and the steady drip of coffee into the mug as the two of you waited for it to finish brewing. It was the perfect start to every day, and frequently you found yourself getting out of bed earlier than you needed to just so you would have more time to waste, wrapped in Christian’s arms. Even on your days off, when he would still have training, you would get up with him so you could share those brief moments together before he left for the day and you crawled back into bed.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head to rid it of the daydream you had nearly gotten lost in. The lights seemed to be more dull now that you were left standing in the kitchen on your own, no lover to hold you close and share his warmth.

You rubbed your hands over your arms, attempting to rid them of the goosebumps that has risen up. Your phone lit up with another notification.

 Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment. It was then that you remembered—Chelsea had a game today. You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration with yourself—the game had completely slipped your mind.

Clearly, you weren’t completely innocent in the fact that you and Christian hadn’t been spending time together recently.

You grabbed the finished cup of coffee, pouring a bit of creamer in it before you hurried back up to your bedroom to get changed.

You turned the phone’s screen off, tossing it onto your bathroom counter before turning on your shower and stepping in. You tried to move as quickly as possible, hoping to make it to the stadium and set things right before the game began. You knew that Christian didn’t play as well when he was upset, and the last thing you wanted was to be the reason Chelsea’s golden American had a poor performance.

Plus, you selfishly just wanted to be rid of the empty feeling that came with any separation between you and Christian.

When you stepped out of the shower and onto the soft mat, having completely rinsed off, the room was stuffy and the steam had fogged up the mirror. When you checked your phone again, Mason had texted you several minutes before, right after you had jumped in the shower.

You finished getting ready in record time, running out of the front door with your hair still slightly damp, and you prayed that no one noticed how hastily your makeup had been done. You tapped your fingers nervously on the steering wheel as you drove toward Stamford Bridge, the minutes creeping closer and closer to the time for kickoff as you sat in the London traffic.

When you finally arrived, you rushed to the private entrance, sending Mason a short text as you walked to let him know that you had arrived. The face that greeted you was not Mason’s, but one of the security staff that you recognized from your many trips to the Bridge over the last couple of years. He greeted you with a warm smile, explaining that Mason had sent him to fetch you since they were already beginning to leave the changing room and line up for the tunnel walk when he had gotten your text.

The security guard led you through the winding halls of the stadium and up to the box where the family and friends of the team would sit together. You found your way into an empty seat next to Sophia, Kai’s girlfriend, and she greeted you with a warm welcome and a quick embrace.

When you turned your eyes to the pitch, your heart sank as you realized the players were already standing on the field, in position and awaiting the starting whistle. You realized you would have no chance to try to wave to Christian to get his attention before the game started. Unless Mason had told him, he likely didn’t have a clue you were even in the stadium.

You were, however, thankful to see that Christian had still made the starting lineup, despite his run-in with Potter earlier in the morning. But as the whistle sounded out and the boys began moving around the pitch, it quickly became clear that he wasn’t playing up to his usual standard. He seemed to be two steps behind on every play, making sloppy touches that would give possession to the defender. He was in his own head, and it was affecting every move he made on the field.

Sophia and you didn’t talk much through the first half. She knew how intensely you typically watched the matches, but she noticed how quiet you were compared to the lively and rambunctious cheering you usually brought on game day.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the half, Chelsea was trailing, 1-0. With Christian on the front line unable to focus enough to make a proper play, the entire offense struggled to create opportunities, and the whole team seemed to be lagging.

You watched as Christian walked sullenly toward the tunnel, head hung low. You knew he was frustrated with himself for his performance so far in the game, and you resented the part you had to play in that.

Sophia, noticing the solemn way you looked at your boyfriend, knew that something was off. She draped her arm over the back of your seat, asking you about your somber mood as soon as your attention had shifted away from Christian since he had disappeared down the tunnel. You sighed and began recounting the former night’s event to her in a quiet voice, hoping none of the other family members in the box were listening in. You told her about how Christian had come home, barely eating the dinner you had prepared before trying to leave the kitchen. You told her about the foolish words you had both let fly out of frustration, stupid accusations that neither of you meant. You told her how you were afraid that you and Christian had lost your “spark,” that feeling of never wanting to let the other go that every couple felt when they first got together. You told her that you were afraid that you didn’t know how to get it back.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a teardrop splashed on your hand. You used your fingers to wipe carefully under your eyes, trying not to smear the makeup you had hastily put on only a couple of hours before.

Sophia opened her mouth to address your concerns when something caught her eye over your shoulder. You turned to see that the boys were walking out of the tunnel, and you waited impatiently to try to catch a glimpse of Christian.

When he finally emerged, Mason’s arm was slung over his shoulders, holding him close as Mason seemed to be trying to give him words of encouragement. His head was still hung low. Mason squeezed his arm around Christian, turning him to face the stands once they were standing on the pitch, and pointed in your direction. A frown creased his eyebrows as his eyes followed where Mason’s finger was pointing.

When his eyes landed on you, his face softened immediately, the frown vanishing from his expression. His eyes grew big, his arms falling to his sides as he took you in, wearing the blue jersey that he knew bore his name across the shoulders. Mason ruffled his hair with a grin, walking away to let him have his moment, but Christian didn’t pay him any mind, only focused on you.

You raised your hand, giving Christian a shy wave. The faintest of smiles curled his lips, tainted with a hint of sadness. He brought his fingers to his lips, blowing you a short kiss before he moved further onto the pitch. He walked backward for a few steps, still looking at you before he turned and jogged to his starting position for the second half.

Sophia drew the arm that had been draped over the back of your chair back to her side, nudging you gently. She had a grin on her face when you looked over. “Yeah, that spark is still there. Don’t worry,” she reassured. You covered your face with your hand, trying to hide the blush that you knew was covering your cheeks. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It happens to every couple, especially after you’ve been living together for a while.”

“Really?” you asked hopefully.

“Really,” she smiled. “It happened with Kai and I, too. A few months after he transferred to Chelsea and we moved to London, there was about a month where we barely ever saw each other. It took a screaming match and then us both crying on the floor of the kitchen with a bottle of wine for us to get past it.” The two of you laughed at the story, and you wiped another tear from your face. “But we were stronger after we got through it. And you and Christian will be too, I know it.”

She took your hand in hers and squeezed in an effort to comfort you. “Just remember to be intentional about spending time together. Life will get crazy from time to time, but if you keep pursuing each other, you’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” you smiled genuinely at her. “You really give the best advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She pulled you into a side hug, over the arm of the stadium seats. As you pulled away from each other, the sound of the whistle rang through the air, and the second half was under way. You took in a big breath, letting it out slowly and praying silently that this 45’ would go better than the first had.

In a matter of minutes, it was clear that Christian was a completely different player than he had been in the first half. He was positioning himself well to make runs, taking much more controlled and calculated touches, and beating his opponents to the ball. Chelsea had made several great plays, pressing up the field and creating several breaks that resulted in near-goals. The whole stadium seemed to be holding its breath, hoping that it was only a matter of time before one of the presses ended with the ball in the net.

It finally happened in the 54th minute. With renewed fervor, the back line moved the ball around the defensive half before Thiago played the ball up the field toward the left wing. Christian broke through the opposing defense, carrying the ball up the line with players right on his heels. With quick feet, he came up to the side of the penalty box, crossing the ball toward the center.

A hush fell over the crowd as the ball floated through the air, toward a mess of players from both teams in the box. You and Sophia leaped to your feet, along with the rest of the audience, watching as the ball landed at Kai’s feet. With a quick touch to settle it, he shot the ball through the maze of defenders into the top corner of the goal. The keeper’s fingers just missed the ball, and the entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheering as the net shook with the ball’s impact.

Kai ran towards the sideline, embracing Christian in celebration, much the same way that you and Sophia clung to one another, jumping up and down as you yelled and cheered.

As the game resumed, Chelsea seemed to have hit their second wind, the game-tying goal driving them in their desire to get another. Several chances were created in the following minutes, the crowd letting out groans at the barely-missed shots that held the potential to propel Chelsea into the lead.

You were starting to get nervous as the game approached it’s last 10 minutes, not wanting the game to end in a draw after Chelsea’s incredible turn-around. You anxiously bit at the skin around your fingernails as you watched.

In the 86th minute, as fans from both sides were beginning to get restless, Reece played a quick ball through the line, Christian sprinting to catch up with it as he broke through the defense and drove quickly down the field. It was a one-on-one between him and the keeper now. He approached the penalty box swiftly as the keeper came out to meet him, trying to force a mistake. But Christian kept his head about him, taking a calculated touch to curve the ball around to the right of the keeper as he dropped to the ground in an attempt to block the shot.

The ball bounced off of the goalpost and across the line. Once again, the fans erupted in a chorus of applause and shouting. Christian sprinted back up the field, coming to stand at the sideline in front of where he knew you were sitting. The rest of the Chelsea boys ran up behind him, embracing him or ruffling his hair in congratulations. Ignoring all of the chaos around him as his teammates whooped and hollered, Christian locked eyes with you, tapping his hand over his heart.

You raised your fist to your lips, pinky pointed up as you kissed your hand. Christian mimicked your action. It was a silly thing the two of you did that had started back when you were still only friends and continued throughout your relationship. You would link your fingers together in a pinky promise, kissing your hands, as a reminder of the promise you made to always be there for each other.

The boys pulled Christian away from the sideline, still thumping him on the back as they yelled in celebration.

The last minutes of the game passed quickly, and Chelsea fans voiced their approval as the final whistle blew, signaling the game’s end in a 2-1 victory for the Blues. The players and staff for both teams made their way onto the pitch, shaking hands cordially, offering words of congratulations to one another, and embracing their own players. You and Sophia moved down toward the barrier that separated the seats from the field, waiting where the boys would usually come to greet their loved ones.

It didn’t take long for Kai to come running over, leaning up to bring Sophia into a sweet kiss. They smiled at each other, sharing quiet words as she congratulated him on his goal. You saw nothing but adoration in their eyes as they looked at one another, and the sight warmed your heart.

Kai looked over to you after a few moments. “Your lover boy will be over here any minute,” he laughed. “As soon as he can get all the guys to stop hounding him for his game-winning goal.” You giggled at his words, eyes still searching through the mass of people for him.

Christian finally emerged, pushing through the crowd in your direction. As soon as he set his eyes on you, he ran the last few yards, arms outstretched to pull you into an embrace. Not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body, you leaned over the short barrier, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies finally met.

Unsatisfied with the space left between you, Christian carefully pulled you over the barrier separating the two of you. You squealed in surprise before he set you on the ground in front of him, still holding your body firmly, refusing to let go of you for fear that you could slip away.

His face was buried in your neck and you brushed your fingers over his damp skin to soothe him. His arms still kept a firm hold on your waist when he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were moist with tears when as he gazed down at you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I was being stupid, and I never should have—”

“Shhh,” you cut him off, cupping his jaw with your hand. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes darted around your face, searching for any reassurance that the two of you were okay after the fight. “I know, Christian. It’s okay.” You saw the relief washing over Christian’s body as he pulled you into a gentle kiss, pressing his lips firmly to yours as he tried to communicate all of the things he was feeling.

“We can talk about everything when we get home, okay?” you asked softly, and he nodded, smiling down at you. “Right now, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

The pink blush immediately painted his cheeks as he grinned sheepishly and hid his face in your shoulder. You giggled at his actions, knowing that he never took compliments well, yet you refused to stop telling him how highly you thought of him. You held the back of his head and felt him place a couple kisses to your shoulder before he stood up to look at your face again.

“I’m sorry I got you all sweaty,” he pulled the long-sleeved compression shirt over his hand, using it to wipe your neck off as you both laughed together.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at him. “You’ll just have to help me wash it off in the shower later.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your suggestive comment as a grin spread across his face.

The two of you waved to Kai and Sophia as Christian took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked away from them.

He brought your intertwined hands up to his face, kissing the back of yours as you made your way toward the tunnel so you could leave the stadium.

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

Okay @thatoneslytherinnerd bullied me into posting my writing online, so here's a blurb from a jegulus Queen Charlotte au idea had forever ago. I don't...know how to explain the context of this without major spoilers for the Queen Charlotte show, but basically James we getting tortured by this guy who was supposed to be his doctor. But Regulus didn't know...until he did. And he found out and the result is this blurb I drafted up :)

Enjoy (or don't)

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“You’re Highness, I must insist-”

“Doctor let us inspect the situation we have on our hands,” Regulus said evenly, “You have been performing experimental methods of healing on the heir to the British throne; you have nearly driven him to madness, and heaven knows what other horrors you have wreaked on his body. You have been discovered by the husband of the heir to the throne, who is choosing to let you go and inflict your monstrous practices on some other innocent, when what he truly would like to do is hang you where you stand.” 

The doctor looked terrified as Regulus levelled him with a venomous gaze. “All of this presented as it stands, I would say it is in your best interests to pack your things and leave. Immediately. Before I am suddenly overcome with clarity of mind and amend my decision.”

The doctor did not waste any time after that. He nodded frantically and all but scrambled down the palace steps towards the servants quarters most likely to do exactly as he had been advised.

Before he could escape earshot however, Regulus called to him once more, “Oh and doctor,” he said, unable to help his delight in the anxious way the man turned back around to face him.

“It is in both our best interest and yours for you to stay as far from the palace as possible.” Regulus told him, “You are, undoubtedly, the most sorry excuse of a human being this world has ever had the misfortune of accommodating, and should fate be vile enough to put your wretched, loathsome face in my line of sight again, I can promise you fortune will not be on your side.” 

He meant it, and he knew that everything both on his face and in his voice made sure the doctor understood that completely. 

The doctor managed one final terrified nod and a hurried bow that he overcompensated and nearly fell to the floor performing. Regulus spent no extra time watching him go. He whirled around heading immediately back into the palace.

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It's just a dialogue blip, and maybe I'll post the other bit I have another time if people don't hate this one. But yeah, there you go :)

[reimeichan]

how are you doing with final fusion after a couple months?

Heyo, sorry it took me a bit to respond to this. I haven't been particularly active on Tumblr due to trying to take care of some RL things and also being suckered really hard into FFXIV but shhhh. I've been trying to figure out how to answer this ask for a while, and I think it'd be best for me if I'm just honest I think.

It's been hard. I was so excited to reach final fusion/full integration whenever it was that I hit that point, and I thought things would be smooth sailing from there. But... these past few months have showed me that even if I am capable of reaching that point now, it's still not my default state, and when push comes to shove, I still lean back on and fall back into dissociation and splitting.

I've been struggling with a lot of feelings of... I don't know. I guess I've been feeling guilty, that maybe I celebrated too early and I'm not doing as well as I thought. That I'd somehow painted a better picture of my situation for everyone around me and now I had to take back some of the things that I've said. "Maybe I'm not actually at final fusion," I've been telling myself. "Maybe I never was and I was fooling myself and the people around me."

"That's bullshit," I'd also tell myself. "Healing isn't linear, this is something we truly believe in and often have to remind others. And so I will now remind myself, healing isn't linear. We hit some rough patches. Staying fused full-time has been more difficult than we expected. This doesn't mean we lied back then, and doesn't even mean we were misinterpreting our experiences or spreading misinformation. We had fully fused. And we regularly experience splitting again. It's fine. We'd expected this to happen, after all."

"Touche," I respond back to myself.

So I guess, all this to say... it's been a process for sure. I'm still someone with DID, that hasn't changed. And I don't think that even once I've reached a point of being fully fused without regularly splitting again, that I'd call myself someone without DID. I struggle with dissociation and memory loss and being consistently inconsistent. But, I've also made a lot of progress, and I really shouldn't discredit that.

I've been feeling a lot of guilt and shame over all of this and that's likely contributed to my absence from this blog and from the DID spaces I'm a part of. But, really, there's nothing to be a ashamed of I think. I know so often people try to paint the best version of themselves online, and sometimes I catch myself doing that too. But I think I'd rather let this blog reflect my genuine thoughts and experiences, and right now that experience is I've not been able to stay fully fused regularly. And that's okay, it just means I still have work to put in to get to my goal.

But, hey, I know how it feels to be fully fused. And I do regularly sit in that state a lot. Just... I'd like to be there more as a default, and rely less on dissociation and splitting so much, yknow?