#Why People Move Their Hands When They Speak

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[suksatoru]

Sukuna is sure there's something wrong with you for loving him.

He's not lovable. He didn't even know how soft love could be until you came around. Sukuna is a brutally honest man, but he can't stop muttering the lie "I don't love you" against your lips even as he kisses you

He lies a lot to you, he realizes. He lies when he tells you that you mean nothing to him, he lies when his fingers dig into your skin as he reminds you you're replaceable. He lies when he says you're stupid—you have a brilliant and creative mind he adores

He thinks you'll slowly fade away like all the things in his life eventually do. He thought his love for you would slowly flitter and diminish with time and he'd stop thinking about you constantly

Unfortunately, Sukuna wasn't familiar with love. He didn't know how unpredictable it could be at times, or how it worked. It brought out parts of him he didn't even know existed.

"I was offered a job in another kingdom."

He looks down at you. You're laying on his chest right now. A single, delicate finger moving across the dark ink swirling on his skin as your face is pressed lovingly against his scarred body.

His large palm drags itself over the nape of your neck and towards the back of your head. He gently fists your hair and tilts your head upwards so you can see his scowl

"You're not going anywhere."

You smile. It makes his chest feel tight and his heart rate pick up as you slowly lift your head off of his chest, criss crossing your legs as you sit up on the bed beside him

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

If anyone else had even dared to think the words, let alone speak them, Sukuna would've sliced their body into more pieces than they could ever count. But you're a fearless thing. While people tie toe around him, you dance around the King of Curses like you couldn't care less.

He smiles. The gesture feels odd but his lips naturally curl upwards at your remark. One of his hands lazily caress your thigh as he gently nudges the fabric of your night gown out of the way

"Who are you to try and leave? You belong here. With me." Sukuna says lowly, his voice dropping an octave as he looks at you through half lidded eyes. You can see the amusement in his eyes as his fingers wrap around your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before you sigh

"But what if I wanted to leave? You said it yourself, I am not a priority of yours here." You press, leaning closer with a small pout on your lips as he scoffs

"I don't care." He mutters, not meeting your eyes as he looks up at the domed ceilings above him. Sukuna's room was never a place he used to enjoy being in. To him, the golden furniture and high, carved walls never made him feel anything at all

Now, in the mornings, he'd wake up to you peacefully sleeping beside him. Curled into his side, your presence had become an unshakable thing in his room. Slowly, it became a bundle of passion and love for him to exist freely in.

"Just say you're in love with me." You tease, your soft laughter slowly pulling his gaze away from the ceiling as he watched you crawl back onto his chest, pressing feather soft kisses onto his jaw

He lets out a breath through his nose, mentally preparing himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth as he puts his hands on your waist to steady himself.

"I...I do." he mumbles, more to himself as your raise your brows in surprise

"You what?"

He grits his teeth, wondering why you're making this so difficult for him. Sukuna glares at you silently, hoping you'll be able to push past his arrogant words and see the underlying message

"You know what. So shut up and go back to doing that stupid thing you were doing." He concludes, referring to when you were tracing his tattoos. You laugh louder as your eyes crinkle in amusement

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. can you try that again, your highness?" You smirk, pressing your palm flat against his pec as he scowls

Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't—

"I love you."

The words come out strained, almost a whisper as he stares up at the ceiling. His grip on you is tight and he absolutely refused to look down into your eyes. He knows your lips are probably parted in shock. Your silence is long as he awaits a response, suddenly questioning if he'd said the right thing—

Both of your hands grab hold of his cheeks, slowly turning his face towards yours as one of his arms instinctively reaches out to pull you closer

Your voice is soft, but the warmth and relief that spreads through his chest is a welcomed sensation

"I love you too."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

tips on writing physically disabled (wheelchair bound) characters?

Writing Notes: Characters Using a Wheelchair

"Wheelchair/wheelchair-bound/confined to a wheelchair"

People who use mobility equipment such as a wheelchair, scooter or cane consider the equipment part of their personal space, according to the United Spinal Association.

People who use wheelchairs have widely different disabilities and varying abilities.

National Center on Disability and Journalism Recommendation: It is acceptable to describe a person as “someone who uses a wheelchair,” followed by an explanation of why the equipment is required. Avoid “confined to a wheelchair” or “wheelchair-bound” as these terms describe a person only in relationship to a piece of equipment. The terms also are misleading, as wheelchairs can liberate people, allowing them to move about, and they are inaccurate, as people who use wheelchairs are not permanently confined to them but are transferred to sleep, sit in chairs, drive cars, etc.

Other terms to use: “wheelchair user” or “person who uses a wheelchair.”

Wheelchair

A chair with wheels to help people move around.

Used by individuals who have impairments that limit their ability to walk.

Typically consists of a seat supported on two large wheels attached towards the back of the seat and two small wheels (castors) in front near the feet, a good braking system, footrests and a cushion. There are often small additional features to prevent toppling or to assist in mounting curbs.

The user moves by pushing with his/her hands circular bars on the outside of the large wheels, known as the hand-rim or push rings.

Types of Wheelchairs

Based on variations in the basic design, there are many types of wheelchairs, with being highly customized to suit individual needs.

Manual wheelchairs are mostly propelled by the user. Other features such as foot/leg rests, front caster outriggers, adjustable backrests and controls can be added to the basic model. The seat size (width and depth), seat-to-floor height, seat angle (also called seat dump or squeeze) relative to the horizontal plane can be modified. Users who have specialized needs may opt for a custom-built wheelchair.

Attendant-propelled chairs are designed to be propelled by an attendant using the handles, and thus the back wheels are often rimless and smaller. These chairs are often used as ‘transfer chairs’ possibly within a hospital or airport to move a mobility-impaired person when a better alternative or a user’s standard chair is unavailable.

A rigid frame wheelchair is usually a non-folding type with a base of support on which the person sits. In some models, the backrest of the chair can be folded down, and the wheels have a quick release mechanism to enable easy transportation and storage.

A folding frame wheelchair is one whose frame is collapsible sideways by the use of an “X” mechanism in the frame. This mechanism is lockable, and the wheelchair folds on release of two locking levers on the chair.

A motorized wheelchair, power chair, electric wheelchair or electric-powered wheelchair is propelled by means of an electric motor rather than manual power. Motorized wheelchairs are useful for those unable to propel a manual wheelchair or who may need to use a wheelchair for distances or over terrain which would be fatiguing in a manual wheelchair. They may also be used by people with cardiovascular and fatigue-based conditions.

Interacting with People with Mobility Disabilities

Do not push or touch a person’s wheelchair/scooter without their permission – a wheelchair is part of the personal body space of the person.

Try to ensure there is space in your waiting room and your office for someone in a wheelchair or scooter to comfortably wait in their chair.

If you are speaking with a person who uses a wheelchair or a person who uses a mobility device for more than a few minutes, place yourself at eye level in front of the person to facilitate the conversation.

Writing about People with Disabilities

Words are powerful. The words we use and the way we portray individuals with disabilities matters. Below is a guide for portraying individuals with disabilities in a respectful and balanced way by using language that is accurate, neutral and objective.

Emphasize abilities, not limitations. Choosing language that emphasizes what people can do instead of what they can’t do is empowering.

Use language that emphasizes the need for accessibility rather than the presence of a disability. Examples: "Accessible" not "handicapped" parking; "Accessible" not "disabled" restroom

Portray successful people with disabilities in a balanced way, not as heroic or superhuman. Do not make assumptions by saying a person with a disability is heroic or inspiring because they are simply living their lives. Stereotypes may raise false expectations that everyone with a disability is or should be an inspiration. People may be inspired by them just as they may be inspired by anyone else. Everyone faces challenges in life.

Do not mention someone’s disability unless it is essential to the story It is okay to identify a person’s disability when it is necessary for clarity or provides important information. For instance, “Virali, who uses a wheelchair, spoke about her experience with using accessible transportation” is totally fine, since it adds a new layer to the story. In other instances, the disability may be irrelevant. For example, do not say, “Charles, who has a congenital disability, wants more sugar in his caramel espresso.”

Create balanced human-interest stories instead of tear-jerking stories. Tearjerkers about incurable diseases, congenital disabilities or severe injury that are intended to elicit pity perpetuate negative stereotypes.

In the 1990s, some health care and disability activists introduced the term “differently abled” as a substitute for the term “disabled.” While well-meaning, this term is euphemistic and works to avoid talking about a person’s disability in honest and specific terms (critics point out that in a pure dictionary definition, everyone is “differently abled”). Use of the term waned in the mid-2000s, and now many individuals in the disability community consider this term condescending or offensive.

Best Practices around Terminology for Disabilities

A foundational part of disability rights is using the right language and terminology to be respectful to members of the disability community. Here are a few best practices:

Avoid outdated terms. There are a number of terms for people with disabilities that are outdated, ableist, and potentially offensive to members of the disability community—terms include “differently abled” (and “the differently abled”), “handicapped”, “special needs” or “special education”, “wheelchair-bound” (as opposed to “is a wheelchair user”), and “cripple.” All of these terms have negative connotations, either because they serve as euphemisms or because they suggest that people with disabilities have a worse quality of life than people without; avoid these terms and replace them with more appropriate terms.

Consider how you describe nondisabled people. In addition to appropriate terms for people with disabilities, there are appropriate terms to use when describing people without disabilities. Avoid words like “normal,” “able,” “abled people,” or “able-bodied,” since these inappropriately suggest that those with disabilities are abnormal or do not have able bodies; instead, use language like “people without disabilities,” “nondisabled,” or “enabled.”

Learn whether to use “people-first” or “identity-first” language. Just as with any other group, people with disabilities are not a monolith. When talking about people with disabilities, remember that they are multifaceted human beings rather than an easily categorized group. To reflect this, opt to use person-first language whenever possible—for example, “a person with epilepsy” rather than “an epileptic person,” or “a person with blindness” rather than “a blind person”—to emphasize the individual and avoid letting their disability serve as their only defining quality. However, some communities prefer identity-first language over people-first language—for example, many people in the deaf community who use sign language prefer the term “deaf person” to the term “person who is hard of hearing,” and many people with autism prefer the term “autistic person.” Always use the individual’s preferred terms.

Refer to a person’s specific disability. Where relevant, avoid referring to people with disabilities as a homogenous group—the range of disabilities varies wildly, and individuals with disabilities have very different experiences depending on their condition and other factors. In addition, avoid the phrase “the disabled” and be careful when using broad terms like “cognitive disability” or “learning disability” when it would be more specific and appropriate to mention their exact condition. Instead, when discussing a person’s disability, use words that refer to their specific condition—for instance, as a person with ADHD—to respect their unique experience and needs.

Respect individual preferences. Individuals have different preferences when it comes to discussing their disabilities, and some people prefer particular terms over others—for example, many people with dwarfism prefer the term “person of short stature” or “little person.” Learn the individual preferences of the people around you to use their preferred terms.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Thanks for the question, learned some new things from these notes as well. Hope this helps with your writing!

EDIT 1:

Ambulatory wheelchair users

Individuals who, despite having the ability to walk short distances, rely on wheelchairs for mobility due to various health conditions.

Can walk but need wheelchairs for longer distances or when experiencing fatigue. Conditions like multiple sclerosis, arthritis, or other mobility-impairing diseases often necessitate this dual mobility approach.

Many ambulatory wheelchair users report being judged, stigmatised or accused of faking their disabilities to cheat their way into support.

EDIT 2:

"Helping me without permission is disrespectful. I understand how to stay safe, and I am not a pawn to advance the agenda of others."

"I’ve discovered that the greatest fear that keeps people from traveling is the thought of a damaged wheelchair"

"The earlier you inform airlines of your plans to travel with a power wheelchair, the more time they will have to prepare."

Wheelchair Assistance at the Airport and on the Aircraft

Building a Wheelchair Accessible Carriage

Thanks so much @anumberofhobbies for sharing additional information and your experiences on this topic. And please give the two orange helpers each a pet (and maybe a little treat) from me <3

[strawwiibernyy]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts - Yang J.

__________________

warnings! alcohol, getting drunk, insecurities, crying.

words: 800+

╰┈➤ When Jungwon sees your drunk self, he takes you to his room to comfort you. However, you suddenly break down crying and asking him strange questions. Between one of them, asking him to kiss you.

__________________

"Y/N, calm down, the others will hear you." Jungwon said, looking back at his bedroom's closed door and then at your face. He hated seeing you like this. Red, puffy eyes as tears ran down like a river.

"Won, why? Why?" You choked on your tears while trying to speak. It was the first time Jungwon saw you this drunk, mostly because you didn't drink. You were an innocent girl. Every time you would go out with him and his members, they would drink beer while you sipped your orange juice.

So why did you drink so much? And what are those words coming out of your mouth? The rest of his members were downstairs in the living room. None knew that you were locked, drunk and crying in Jungwon's room.

"Y/N, I don't understand." He spoke again, sitting down on the floor next to you. He tried to grab your face so you could look him into his eyes, but you shook away from him.

"W-won, I want to ask you a question. But please, answer with honestly." You suddenly said, still your eyes pinned down on your lap. Jungwon moved closer to you, placing his right hand gently over your shoulders.

"What? What do you want to ask me?" You sniffed on your hand, looking up at him. Your lip trembled, making the next words that came out of your mouth barely above a whisper. However, Jungwon heard it. And very clearly.

"Am I pretty?" Jungwon's eyes got wide, taking away his hand from you. A shade of red spread to your cheeks, your eyes looking down again. For a brief moment, a depressing expression crossed your face when Jungwon's hand left your body. It made his heart shatter.

"Y/N, what are you saying? You are beautiful."

"Yes, but there are so much more beautiful women out there. The idols that you work with. They have flawless skin, a skinny body, and perfect facial harmony. I don't have any of them." You broke down again in tears, hiding your face behind your palms.

Jungwon's eyebrows came together at your words. How could you even think for a second that you weren't pretty? For him, you were the most gorgeous woman in the world. And you didn't need surgery, nor diet to look pretty in his eyes.

You were already perfect to him.

"Y/N, you are talking nonsense-"

"I am not and you know it. You would prefer me over some kind of model or the idols you work with?" You moved closer to him, feeling the alcohol hitting you.

"It's not about the outside, but the inside-"

"Then if they weren't bad people, and they were fun and kind like me, would you still prefer me?" Your temper was raising by the minutes passing. You got on your knees, looking down at a confused Jungwon with eager eyes.

You hoped his answer will be you. There was this small hope behind your eyes.

But what are you asking your best friend? The alcohol has seriously destroyed you.

"None can be like you." Jungwon whispered, making your eyes shoot wide. Still, this answer wasn't enough satisfying for you.

"Well, similar to me!" You yelled, forgetting his members were just downstairs.

"I can't understand you, Y/N. I wish you could see yourself from my perspective."

"If you find me so attractive then," You began, sitting back down on the floor. By now, your tears had dried up against your cheeks. The only thought in your mind was Jungwon's lips on yours. How they would feel, how they would move...

"If you find me attractive, then kiss me." You finally said, making Jungwon jump back in shock. He couldn't believe what was happening right now. You must be really drunk to suggest something like that.

However, drunk actions aren't just sober thoughts?

"Y/N, I can't do that-"

"See, you don't want to kiss me!" Jungwon stood up, and you followed behind him. Tears started leaving your eyes again, and Jungwon's heart was slowly breaking into pieces.

"You don't like me." You continued, unable to stop your mouth. "I am ugly, and you know it. If I wasn't, you would kiss me. Yet you went to leave. You know what? I am leaving first! This is your room anyway, ah!"

As you were about to walk past Jungwon, he grabbed you by your shoulders. He brought you close to his body, feeling his warmthless taking over you. Some seconds passed where you both looked each other deep into the eyes. Seconds that felt like years to you.

Before he did the move. He kissed you. He kissed you so sweetly, his lips slowly moving against yours. You were taken aback. At first, you were frozen under his touch. But when you felt his hand pushing your head closer to his lips, you reacted as well.

The kiss was quick, yet memorable. Jungwon could smell the alcohol on your breath, but his mind was occupied by your soft lips to give it too much notice. He took a deep breath before breaking the silence.

"If I didn't like you, would I do this?"

__________________

A/N: Sorry for not updating for a week, but now finals are over! YAYYYYYYY!

© all rights reserved to me — i do not allow anyone to copy, translate, or republish my works. all my stories are purerly fictional.

[alesiaaa]

Tapestry of understanding

Geta is pissed off a whole day because of rumours, which results in hurt feelings and confessions of fears.

Warnings : none! It’s half fluff half angst-ish?..

First thing I post cause I forgot abt this blog haha!

1.2k words as it is kind of a drabble..

Today was a hard day.

For the senate, for you, and most importantly, for Geta.

There had been rumours that Geta and Caracalla was having trouble ruling the empire, that they weren’t capable of getting along. It was true, yes, but that didn’t have to reach the public eye. They had enough people around them to make sure nothing was going wrong.

Even if he knew everything was going good, Geta still stressed all day long. Every since that meeting with the senate, he had been on edge all day and whenever he got the chance to, he spoke words of admiration for Claudius, a former Emperor, or..his great-great grandfather.

Though, in the evening, when only you and him dined, as Caracalla didn't even bother showing up, Geta shouted at you. You had accidentally approached a more sensitive topic, and , as he was already pissed off by the events of the day, he shouted at you to keep your mouth shut, or he’d shut it himself. His words cut deeply, as he’d never spoken to you so roughly before. It wouldn’t have bothered you if you didn’t know that the words were genuine, but , as you saw the raw rage in his eyes, you know he meant every word.

As the two of you soon enough retreated to your bedchambers, his ramble started as soon as the two of you entered the hall, completely disregarding your feeling and seemingly forgetting about his actions from before.

The sound of his footsteps were loud against the cold marble floor of your chambers, as Geta walked from one side to another, rambling about the former Emperor that he admired. “ Claudius knew, he understood , everything! “ he exclaimed, as he continued on his pacing, while you simply listened. It isn’t like you were supposed to say anything, he was almost talking to himself.

Geta, with his body covered and marks and scars from long and dangerous battles, was most known by his strength, his rationality in battle. The people of Rome considered him a warrior, while he, seemingly, at least tonight, wanted to be known by the wise words he didn’t have. It wasn’t like he wasn’t wise, he just..didn’t express it properly, or at all.

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you, sat on your bed, looking at him with an odd expression. “ Why can’t I understand as he does? Why can’t I understand the- the fragility of Rome?..” he spoke, eyes fixed on you.

“ Geta..." you exhaled, letting out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. “ What is up with you tonight? Why tonight out of all days, are you not tired of everything today?”

Your words only resulted in a scoff, as she walked closer to the bed, till he was right in front of you. “ I am tired, but..” his breathing was slow, as he just stood there for a moment, thinking about his next words. “..there is this fear in me, solaris, and I mustn’t rest until I am at peace.” His expression was so..raw, so full of emotion, that you thought that was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him before.

“ W-What?” You questioned quietly, your face filled with confusion that he seemed to mistake as judgement, which immediately made him shut down once more. He shook his head, sitting down aside you. “ It is nothing, rosa, forget I ever said anything.” His voice was a bit shakier than usual, yet still steady enough to not make you believe he shed tears.

His body inched closer to yours, before, he slowly laid on his back, his head resting on your lap. The moonlight made it possible for you to see the wetness in his eyes, as he looked up at you softly, his hands resting on his chest. “ My love..what bothers you so badly? I beg you, speak to me, because when you are not at peace, I am not as well.” You said quietly, your hands moving to cradle his face, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Your acts of kindness and understanding only made tears escape his eyes, as he shut them swiftly , hoping you hadn’t noticed. Deep down, the way he’s acted to you the whole day also pained and stressed him. He felt as if he wasn’t deserving one bit of the kindness and love you were showing him.

“ I fear that centuries in the future, only thing that will be remembered of me is the battles I’ve fought, and not the man I am.” He spoke , exhaling as if a rock was taken off his heart, his voice seeming almost weak, hurt. It broke your heart to see him this way.

Despite his usual rough demeanor, when the two of you were alone, he softened each and every time. Every night, when you’d find yourselves laid on your bed , alone in the quiet of your bedchambers, he’d always tell you stories, from when he was a child, or, about how it was in the different zones he fought in, or just simply about his day. Perhaps, when praying before bed, he’d slip a few extra prayers for you as well, without ever realising it.

Your marriage had a rough start, but after so much time, the two of you grew to love and appreciate each other as if you had been married for decades, when you’ve been married for barely a year.

“ I- you don’t have to compare yourself to others, my dear,” you soothed, your fingers running slowly through his ginger hair , playing and tugging at the strands. “, I know you, and I know that you are truly a good man. And they know too, they understand. You aren’t the only Emperor to be known by strength, are you? I don’t believe it is wrong to be known as a strong man. Only jealous and incompetent people would consider you anything else but a capable Emperor.” Though your words didn’t seem to affect him much, he simply hummed with a small nod, opening his eyes to look at you.

A sigh escaped his lips, as his hands went to hold yours, pulling them on his chest. “ Dulcisa, will you forgive me? I acted so, so foolish today. It was wrong of me to take out my anger on you, my angel. You’re not at fault.” his words were reassuring, but it still hurt to know that he still meant those words.

Still, you didn’t complain, you didn’t respond negatively, you simply hummed, kissing his forehead once again, a gesture he took as a silent ‘I forgive you.’ He swiftly turned, so he’d be laid on his stomach, before he crawled over you, making you lay on the bed as well. Though his scope wasn’t to try any sexual act, and you knew that. He was tired of speaking, so just pushing you down to sleep was far easier.

His arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his head leaned on your arm. It wasn’t the usually position you went to sleep in, it was uncomfortable and irritating, but you didn’t say a thing and shut your eyes, breathing steadying as the two of you, soon enough, fell into a deep sleep.

[polargemini]

So I have a plot for a fic where Wade believes Peter Parker is experimenting on people (like on the comic) and this is like part of the scene when Wade attempts to kill him.

————

Wade doesn’t go right away after he shoots Parker. He stays there, right in front of him, seeing how his face morphs into a new expression. One full of affliction.

“W—“ Parker tries to say something. But his chest moves erratically, hindering any attempt to speak, and the bloods flows out of the injury, staining his lab coat.

He doesn’t have a lot of time left. That much is evident. He’s minutes away from dying, painfully, feeling each second the excruciating agony of the bullet near his heart — until it stops beating.

The fact that Wade isn’t taking the time to prolong this, to make Parker feel the same torment of the people who suffered at his hands, it’s a small courtesy to Spidey. Even if he never discovers that Parker was taking advantage of him, using him to cover his wicked purposes, Wade hopes that making it fast will make it better.

Because he isn’t supposed to be killing anyone. Less Spidey’s boss, the guy Spidey idolizes.

Wade had promised himself he wouldn’t kill again. Not after he changed. He was finally able to be someone different, someone worthy of being near Spidey. But after he found out Parker was behind the experiments, it was impossible to stand still and believe that Parker deserved a second chance. He’s probably throwing out the window all the progress of these few months.

But he has to do this.

Parker’s death will be fast — as fast as the bleed out takes — but he’s not leaving earth without suffering first. That’s why Wade aimed purposely to a spot near Parker’s heart and not directly at it.

He looks how Parker puts his hands around his chest, like he could somehow stop the bleeding just with that. What an idiot. For someone who is famous for being a scientist, he must be aware anything he does will be useless. There’s no going back.

And yet.

“W—“ Parker tries again.

He should be on the floor by now, but for some reason he keeps wanting to talk. It really is bothering Wade.

"Why? Are asking why? Gonna keep pretending til’ the end? You aren't fooling me, Parker. You know exactly what you did,” Wade snaps and Parker flinches at his words. Like they hurt more than the wound on his body.

"Wa—" Peter insists.

Wade grunts. “Is it wait now? C��mon, Parker. Not gonna spent my time trying to guess your last words. And if you’re really asking me to wait, think again. I bet they asked the same, and you—“

Wade groans, and then he aims the gun at Parker’s head, to his forehead. There’s no reason not to pull the trigger. Even if Wade spares him the pain ending things now, there’s no way for Parker to survive. He will accomplish what he came to do.

Wade analyzes the face behind the muzzle, and to his surprise, Parker doesn’t have the face of a murderer. There’s no guilt, not even a hint of anger for being discovered. Or that shame and sobbing that Wade has presence sometimes, when the people he had killed realized it was time to face the consequences of their actions.

If something, there's an indescribable pain in Parker’s eyes. He looks hurt, and it’s a different hurting, not the one he must be feeling from the bullet. It’s like he can’t understand why Wade did that to him. And not for the whole experimenting-on-people-matter. Nor the bullet matter. Its seems deeper, which doesn’t make sense.

Spidey talks a lot about Parker’s job, but Wade never got to meet him. Not until now. This is the first time they’re looking face to face. How should he take that expression? It’s feels personal, but there’s no way for it to be.

“Whatever,” Wade says as he holsters the gun. He isn’t wasting more bullets on this asshole. He turns his back, and walks away. He isn’t giving Parker the satisfaction of having someone to hear his last words — if he even manages to talk at some point.

All the time on his way out of the building, he tries to shake out of his head the look on those brown eyes.

[mylittlepimp]

(okay I had more thoughts)

Emperor Geta found his brother's tears to be weakness. She's his wife! Why the hell does his brother need her? He seeks the company of men! If his brother wanted a wife, Geta would've gotten him one!

Emperor Caracalla continues to cry and beg. No one else was nice to him the way that she is! No one saw him the way that she did! She's the only one that he feels can help him!

She can't take the tears anymore. She runs over to Emperor Caracalla, wrapping her arms around him, and shushing him while she rocks him back and forth.

Emperor Geta feels disgusted by this, he grabs her by the wrist pulling them apart.

Emperor Caracalla screams in protest as he tries to grab her hand and keep her.

She tries grabbing Emperor Caracalla's hand in return, but Emperor Geta yanks her away.

Emperor Geta decides to change how he treats her. At night he chains her to his bed, only by her wrist or ankle... Nothing more. As cruel as he's known to be, he does want her comfortable.

She's miserable. Sulking on the floor next to the bed. Being forced to listen to Emperor Caracalla cry at night or stumble around drunk. She wants to help him, but she can't.

In public Emperor Geta has added to her jewelry. A chain on her hand and wrist. He doesn't keep her physically confined to him, but he does make a display that she's only his. Trying his best to be... Somewhat discreet without drawing too much attention.

(visual representation of what I had in mind)

Of course it's only made from the finest gold. It matches every outfit he puts on her.

In public is the only time that she can see Emperor Caracalla. But they don't speak or interact together. They only exchange glances, small smiles, or looks. Like a silent conversation only they understand.

Emperor Caracalla looks miserable. Just as she feared. He tries replacing her every night with a different woman, but they aren't her.

Emperor Geta gets angry with his brother, finding his misery a distraction. Especially during their war plans and their gladiator games.

It finally gets to a point that Emperor Geta confronts his brother in a big argument. Wondering why he can't just get over her? Why can't he just move on? That wasn't Caracalla's wife he stole. In fact he didn't steal her at all! She's always been Geta's wife!

Emperor Caracalla explains in tears and a shaky voice, that it wasn't what Geta thinks! It wasn't about sex, he never touched Geta's wife that way!

Emperor Geta looks at his brother confused. Assuming the worst that Caracalla, had infected Geta's wife with his disease this entire time.

But it wasn't about sex.

While Emperor Geta was seeking the comfort of other people at night. Geta would leave his wife alone. That's when she came across Emperor Caracalla, crying to his monkey about how horrible Geta was to him.

She sat down next to Caracalla, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, and he pulled away from her out of fear. She didn't move or say anything. She just sat there next to him.

Emperor Caracalla stared at her for several minutes. He wasn't sure what to think or what to say. Eventually he offered her a grape.

She smiled at Emperor Caracalla's offer, even giggling a little.

Emperor Caracalla liked that. It made him smile in return. He decided to tell her silly stories, even acting out some of the scenes himself. Just to make her giggle.

She soon decided to add to Caracalla's stories. Doing her best to act out the scenes as well.

Emperor Caracalla started to like her. Especially since she was nothing like his brother and his other wives.

She made Emperor Caracalla comfortable, safe, and seen.

That's how she ended up in his quarters every night listening to him, comforting him, and making him feel seen.

When Emperor Geta walked into his brother's quarters and saw him with Geta's wife. That's why had assumed Caracalla poisoned Geta's wife.

But that wasn't the case.

Emperor Geta doesn't change his mind on keeping his brother away from Geta's wife. But now he knows what really happened.

She watches from around the corner, silently hoping that Emperor Geta will change his mind.

(y'all keep reacting to this and I'll end up adding more again! Haha)

It was meant to be a marriage of politics, and instead she finds herself as the caregiver. Surrogate mother most days.

Emperor Caracalla is sweet. Often child like. Innocent. But easily manipulated.

Emperor Geta is not as sweet or innocent. He's often angry. Hungry. Fearsome.

Both are troubled and unloved. Both somehow lean on her, and only her for their needs.

Emperor Geta loves to show her off during the day. Parade her around on his arm, dress her in the finest gold accessories and beautiful fabrics that compliment her skin. She's his after all. His wife.

But by night.

Emperor Caracalla seeks her comfort. To be held by her, while he mumbles on and on about how mean Geta is to him. She'll hold Caracalla's head in her lap, run her fingers through his hair, and she'll listen to him.

These routines have been going on for years.

Until Emperor Geta finds out that is.

Emperor Geta shouts at his brother, screaming at him like a rabid hound to stay away from his wife!

Emperor Caracalla is reduced to tears, begging on his knees to stay around her. He doesn't want to lose his only lifeline to the care, the love, and the longing he so desperately desires.

Emperor Geta throws his cup of wine at his brother. He won't hear of it. His brother's tears mean nothing to him. His begging pointless. She's his wife and he does not share with anyone!

(I don't know where that came from but I had to write it down)

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Sunday

A/N: Track 3 in my Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We? fics. It's my first time writing for Bucky and to say I'm nervous about it is an understatement. I hope he didn't come out out of character. There will be two more tie ins with tracks 10 and 12. Listen to the track here. Bucky x blackwidow!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.6k

Amends. 

He was supposed to make amends. He had been trying for the most part to work through his list Doctor Raynor made him create. One person after the next until he had crossed off every name. 

Bucky was trying to figure out how to be a better person. To be a person, really. It had worked in some regards, in others, it took more of his restraint than anything else. He’d gotten his mind back, but with that came everything else. 

The memories seemed more vivid, the pain…the pain was endless. But he was trying. 

He was trying and that had to count for something. 

Didn’t it?

Bucky gently closed the refrigerator door and popped open his beer bottle. He took a pull before looking down into his notebook. There was your name. He’d managed to cross off four names before yours and after yours. 

Bottle still in hand, he rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. He couldn’t put this off forever. He set the bottle down on the counter in front of him. Pressing his hands against the counter he leaned against it. 

You hadn’t spoken in over a month. Before you’d - 

Bucky let out a sigh. 

He never really expected to run into you again. Not after… not after the Red Room. 

Natasha of all people had managed to track you down before Thanos, before the snap. You’d been snapped out of existence along with half the population before he’d had a chance to talk with you. 

In all her wisdom, Natasha had managed to write down your last known location. Bucky hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to try and speak with you until Sam found out. Then it was non stop badgering until he made a move. 

Bucky had found you in Portofino. You looked just as he had remembered. You had locked eyes with him while you were shopping for fruit. He thought you might run or fight. Either scenario he was prepared for. He never imagined you would smile at him, walking up to him slowly before tossing him an apple. 

“Took you long enough,” was all you’d said. He’d followed after you, walking across the coast with you reminiscing  and trading stories for hours until the sun set and rose once again. 

The both of you stayed in contact, helping each other with the odd job here and there. Until you’d - until he’d gone and messed it up. 

Bucky’s phone rang, he let out a sigh before putting the phone against his ear. 

“Hello?” He breathed out. 

“Have you called her yet?” 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, “Sam, this really doesn’t concern you.” 

“The hell it doesn’t,” Sam chided him, “I’m the one that has to deal with all your depressing and moody attitude.” 

“I’m not -” 

“You are. That’s your default setting, man. But at least when you were talking with her it lightened up a little. It was only occasional scowls and grunts.” 

Bucky let out an annoyed groan. 

“That’s what I’m talking about, man! If you just humble yourself and grovel and apologize we can both get on with our lives. You were an idiot, now own it.” 

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky grumbled, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

Faintly, he could hear Sam yelling at him. “As long as you call her next!” Bucky pressed the end call button and set the phone on the counter. 

Bucky tapped his fingers along the counter, his heart tensing up in his chest. He was getting nervous, he didn’t get nervous. Bucky threw his head back, letting out an annoyed groan. 

Fine, shit, fine!

Bucky picked up the phone and dialed your number. The ringing was endless, his heart beat faster and faster the longer you didn’t pick up. When the automated voicemail started he almost hung up, almost. 

“I know why you’re not picking up the phone. I get it. I just - Look I just want to talk. If you can,” he paused and let out a sigh, “I’m here in Brooklyn or I can -” the recording ended. 

Bucky nearly banged his head on the counter from frustration. He tossed the phone on the counter. Grabbing the beer bottle once more, he slide down the counter until he sat on the floor. 

Pathetic. He was pathetic. Somewhere out there he knew Steve was probably laughing at him. Didn’t you used to be the smooth one? He’d probably say. 

“In another life,” Bucky mumbled against the bottle, “In this one I’m an idiot.” 

------------------------------------------------

You played the message once more. You've heard it about ten times now. You never expected to hear from him again let alone have him call you. 

You worried your lip, finger ghosting over the call back button. Tossing the phone on the seat beside you, you slide down the sofa until you sat firmly on the floor. You head leaning back against the sofa cushion you stared up at the ceiling. 

You’d told him you were falling in love with him, and he’d just stared at you. Stared at you until you’d tried to swallow back your words floundering like an idiot. 

You were always calm, you were collected. You couldn’t get nervous or ramble, you weren’t created that way. The Red Room had taken all that out of you. At least you had thought so until then. 

Bucky had a way of making you forget, at least momentarily, all the pain. When you were together it was just the two of you. The past would always exist, but with him, it almost felt like there was still a chance at a future. One with less pain and blood. 

You’d been wrong. 

You’d been embarrassed. You never wanted to feel that way again. Swallowing, you picked yourself off the floor. 

There was only one way through this. You’d have to face it. Grabbing your keys you made your way to Bucky’s apartment. You’d been staying in New York since the two of you had reconnected, after today, you might finally be able to leave. 

When you finally made it to his door, you’d stared at it for a solid minute before picking the lock. You wanted to have the upper hand here, and this was the best way for you to do it. 

Quietly, you made your way into his living room. Bucky was sprawled along his mattress on the floor. His arm was thrown haphazardly across his face. He’d yet to make the transition onto an actual bed. 

“You really should have a better security system,” you said. Your hands were tucked into your coat pockets. 

“Don’t need one,” Bucky said quietly, sitting up from the floor. He had trouble meeting your gaze. He bent his knees, his arms resting against his legs. “I know the sound of your footsteps.” 

He cleared his throat, his eyes finally daring to meet yours. He looked tired, more tired than you’d seen him in a while. You almost wanted to reach out and comfort him. 

Almost. 

“What is it exactly that you couldn’t just tell me over the phone?” You questioned. You shifted your weight, arms now crossing against your chest. 

“I wanted to say I was sorry.” 

“For what?” 

Bucky’s eyes pierced yours. “I should have-” 

“Look, James-” 

“Don’t.” Bucky stood tall now, his body dangerously close to yours. If you were anyone else it might terrify you, but you’d never been scared of him, even when you should have been. You swallowed, your breathing growing more shallow. 

“Don’t close off on me,” his voice grew heavy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to argue. 

“I can see it, I know that look. I know I messed up, but don’t close off because of me.” 

You blanched, “I’m not closing off.” 

Bucky let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. He paced in front of you now like a nervous cat. Your eyes followed him, watching as he paced. 

“I don’t know how to be a person anymore. I’m trying, and I’m failing.” He managed to choke out. “Nothing I ever do seems to come out right.” 

Bucky stopped pacing and he looked at you. His eyes were watery now, his expression pained as if he was feeling every emotion at once. 

“James,” you said softly, taking one step toward him. 

Bucky tried his best to compose himself, to reign in the emotions overpowering him. 

“When you said you loved me, I wanted to say it back. I don’t know what stopped me. No,” he paused, “I do. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after all the pain I caused.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you reasoned. “It’s not any of our faults, James. We did what we were told. What we were trained to do. You more than anyone else.” 

He looked at you with that same expression that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. He looked at you like you were gravity anchoring him to the earth. 

“I do, love you,” Bucky whispered, taking a tentative step towards you. “I finally feel myself when I’m with you. I thought…everything feels a little lighter when I’m with you. I don’t think I want to fight that feeling anymore. I love you. I don’t want to run from it anymore.” 

Bucky reached out timidly to cup your face. When you didn’t pull away, he cradled your head in his hand. You stood there holding each other close. To broken people finding acceptance in the other.

[l-in-the-light]

About Trafalgar Law and his vitiligo

Feel free to ignore this post if you so wish, but I chose to speak up on this matter. I have seen so many fanarts that portray Law with his white skin patches, often looking like a dalmatian and it bothers me. Are you all aware that animal-like patterns for vitiligo are considered insulting? And you all might look at me weirdly now and ask "how can something so cute/wholesome/unique possibly be bothersome to anyone?!" Read further on your own risk, slight tmi.

Law's disease is of course fictional. Visually it looks the closest to vitiligo, but it has a lot in common with autoimmune skin diseases as well. I happen to know how it's like to live with a skin disease. Meds for my condition aren't really for curing anything, they just make the symptoms dimnish, but in return they leave white patches on my skin that are resistant to tanning for a long while (also those meds are very dangerous for your kidneys apparently if used too often, as a side note). Why would anyone use them? Well, because it's a hereditary skin condition: it never goes away and there's no way to cure it, those meds are literally the only thing that does anything. I just get lucky whenever symptoms aren't visible for some time until they inevitably come back anyway. And believe me, this isn't "wholesome", "cute" or "unique" to have discolored skin patches. You all probably have no idea (why would you have anyway, it's natural that you don't) how it's like in summer, when you go on a bus or tram, you wear a t-shirt because it's freaking hot and you can't hide under the clothes or you risk melting or fainting. And people see your discolored skin or red patches on your skin. You know how they react? They stare at your hands/arms and then they move away. That's the default reaction whenever your skin looks unusual. People would rather move away, just in case it's something contagious. They will also stare, a lot, and you can feel it's judgemental, even though my condition is in no way my own fault (or anyone else's who also has it), thank you very much.

That being said, I doubt Law would be happy parading openly with white patches visible on his skin. Most people wouldn't realize that's it's just a leftover from his old, cured disease. They would simply assume what people always assume: that it's something contagious. Evidence below, if you need it:

And Law's reaction to their reaction:

He doesn't look very happy, of course.

People would isolate him, avoid him and *stare* disrespectfully at him like he's a weird specimen, at best. Law would quickly learn to hide it under his clothes, long sleeves, long pants, gloves etc. No one truly wants to attract negative attention like this, especially not someone who already went through a lot of traumatic experiences, like Law. And sure, as a child he didn't really hide it:

But take into account those are the clothes he was wearing ever since Flevance happened. He didn't have any other clothes. As soon as he's accepted as part of Doflamingo's family he starts to wear different ones, and he covers up the spots on his arms by wearing long sleeves:

And oh boy, I can totally relate to that.

Sure, in ideal world, no one would assume Law has a disease just because his skin is discolored. But we're not living in ideal world. Some people, just like me, have hereditary skin conditions and feel bothered by fanarts that exoticize skin disease or skin disorder. Yeah sure, why does it matter, Law is a fictional character with fictional disease, right? But vetiligo is very similar to this and is a real condition which is part of life of real people. Those aren't freckles that are just cute and make you look unique (and some people might have freckles and still hate the extra attention drawn towards it, and it's valid if they feel like that!).

Just wanted to get that off my chest. I don't need sympathy for my disease, this is not why I wrote this post. I just wish people would realize that by drawing a vitiligo Law they're toying with a lot of emotional baggage there, please treat it respectfully. Maybe one day the world will be wholesome enough to think of it as normal (normal, not fetishized, ugly, contagious or exotic!), but I assure you it still doesn't. If you think it's just a "me" thing, check out this blog: https://www.tumblr.com/vitiligo-is-not-a-trend/765530242896003072 and many other posts of theirs. Not everyone with skin conditions might react the same way, but keep in mind people with actual vitiligo and skin diseases can and often will be really sensitive about it, and for a good reason.

Yes, that being said I also think it's wholesome if Luffy accepts vitiligo spots on Law easily like it's not a big deal, especially in comparison to the rest of the world which would fear him instead. It's definitely something Luffy would do. But that's completely different from fetishizing it. Please, you're stepping on a thin line here, tumblr.

[marchofmistria]

Hello! I love your headcanons and writing a lot! Thanks for the food

If possible, I'll like to request some headcanons for Balor and a reader that has a pretty obvious crush on him.

Thanks in advance! <3

Hey there, thank you for sending! :)

Balor is not unaccustomed to flirting. He's a handsome man, well-traveled, and a purveyor of expensive goods. He's met many people, so to speak.

But something about your particular attention to him really makes him flustered. And that fact alone scares him.

He does a lot of self-analysis to try and understand what about you makes you special to him, and why your flirting makes his heart race. He's met many attractive people in his life, sure, but you're so much more than just another pretty face to him.

From the first moment he met you on your entrance into Mistria, and he held your hand as you jumped over the broken bridge into the small village, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

From his first impression, you were definitely beautiful. As he got to know you more, he saw you as particularly clever and helpful with his business. You understood him and his line of work.

He's not sure, maybe it has to do with the fact that he's grown surprisingly attached to this village. But he suspects you play no small role in that feeling.

He can tell you like him too. Each day, you make a point to stop by his cart and chat with him. At first, it's mostly about business. But as time passes, you make an effort to learn more about the mysterious merchant and remember each detail of each story he tells you.

He really starts to feel your affections towards him each time you take effort to bring him a beautiful gem or rare archeological find. At first he thanks you, saying it'll be a good sell in the Capital.

But then you emphasize that it's for him, not to be sold. You know that, aside from his work, he truly appreciates the beauty and rarity of such things. He's touched by the thought you put into it.

Even more so when you remember his brief mention of his favorite food, curry, and make an effort to bring it to him as often as possible.

He knew that he loved you on the day you invited him over to the farm for dinner. You told him that you and Reina had worked together on a new curry recipe, and hoped that he liked it.

While you may have tried to brush off any hints suggesting that this was made for him, claiming that you and Reina were simply practicing cooking, he could tell that you didn't offer this meal to him thoughtlessly.

It's the most delicious and comforting thing he'd remembered having since his childhood. Comforting food like this was hard to come by when you lived your life on the road.

Charming and charismatic as he is, he finds it truly difficult to express in words what this gesture meant to him. Really, what all of these thoughtful and kind gestures mean to him.

He begins to associate you with the feeling of home. He hasn't known that feeling in a while.

He goes to great lengths to try and repay you for your kindness. He knows that he's already gained your affection and doesn't need to try to win you over, but he wants to give you even a small piece of the feeling you've given him.

He first brings you rare and expensive gifts he comes into possession of over the course of his travels outside of Mistria. Some of these things, you know well, he could have easily sold for a pretty penny in the Capital. But he chooses to give them to you.

As he gets to know you more, he moves away from gifts he knows would be liked by anyone to gifts specific to your interests and tastes.

He knows how carefully you listen to all his stories, and makes great effort to do the same for you. He even goes so far as to keep notes of the things you've mentioned you liked. He'll bring them for you any chance he gets.

His favorite thing in the world is spending late nights with you at the Inn, swapping stories and laughs well into the night. He feels like he can talk to you forever, and it feels wonderful to have a caring someone to share his thoughts and feelings with.

Another thing he needs to get used to is the trouble he has flirting with you at first. Although you unabashedly like Balor and don't try to hide it, Balor has to fight through some embarrassment to show his feelings back. Something he's not used to.

This is a shock to a man whose whole life was spent charming everyone he meets. He's never been a stranger to grand displays of affection, but with you he takes a different approach. With you, he wants to cultivate intimacy.

He gets shy when you clearly indicate how much you like him, but always wants you to know that the feeling is mutual and he wants your relationship to progress further.

Because of this, it doesn't take long at all for you two to become an official couple. Even long into your relationship, when Balor has vowed to make Mistria (and you specifically) his permanent home, he never stops making sure you feel loved by him. He tells you and shows you every single day.

[lovelyshu]

I ONLY TALK TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND ME — with Minho

001 DESCRIPTION — how minho deals with a crying teenager he cares about

002 TAGS — all platonic, gn reader, use of yn like once, very fluffy, a tiny bit of angst if you squint (reader doesn't trust parents with problems or anyone else tbh + like lots of crying), very self indulgent

003 COMMENTS — what does crying at least once a week in the middle of the night does to a person? It gives them ✨ideas✨. Also this was inspired by my brother even if I never told him much. He was the only person I allowed to see me cry.

004 TAGGING — @hannamoon143 @jisunggy

Minho doesn't remember exactly when did he got so close to you. And to be honest, neither did you.

But now you were someone very important to him, going as far as calling you his little sibling.

And that's also one of the reasons he accepted when you asked to sleep on his house that night.

The other reason being that he knew you weren't feeling so good these days. Even if you tried to hide it, your obvious reactions to which no one seemed to notice or care gave it away.

Well, that didn't mean he was expecting to her crying in the middle of the night.

It was 1:35 am. And Minho had no idea on to why were you still awake. He was still feeling sleepy and tired, but as soon as he heard the sob coming from the other room, his mind put to the side any sleepiness in his body.

Slowly, he walked to your room, standing right outside your door. Minho thought about knocking on it, but you would probably just ignore.

So that's why he just - slowly - opened it, to which made you freeze, trying to pretend to be asleep.

“yn? Are you alright?”

No response.

Sighing, he walked closer to you after closing the door, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Minho knew you had trouble with opening up to other people, even sympathizing with the feeling. Knowing that, he put a hand over your head, patting it softly.

“If there's anything bothering you, I'm more than happy to help you. You don't need to bottle up everything.”

As you stayed in silence, he continued.

“And I can also just listen, if you'd like. I won't tell anyone about this, unless you ask me to.”

The silence continued for a short moment, until he heard you speak, voice cracking slightly. A clear sign you were indeed crying.

“Not even my parents?”

“No. If you don't want them to know, I won't tell them.”

You slowly turned to face him, sitting up. Minho seeing this slowly puts your head on his shoulder, letting you take your time with talking.

“Minho... I'm sorry..”

“What are you sorry for?” - he spoke in such a soft and calm tone that made you get even more emotional than you were.

Trying to find the right words, more tears begun to found their way to your eyes as you tried your best to not let them fall.

“For everything. I'm a failure, I can't do anything right, my parents are alright but it seems like I can never make them proud. The only thing I give them is shame.”

Minho moved you a bit, enough so that you could hide your face on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Sometimes I just want to disappear.. I always ask myself if anyone would even care if I did...”

Hearing your words made Minho hug you tightly, mumbling in such a low voice that you might've missed if it wasn't for the silence.

“You're not a failure. If anything, you are the most talented and intelligent person I've ever met.”

Minho sighed as he noticed that you were crying even more, knowing those words might mean something way too big for your own heart to bear.

“And you don't even see it. If you ever disappeared, I'd go all around the world to find you.”

Slowly, he laid you down again, but now, laying down as well, still holding you.

After some long minutes, Minho noticed you were drifting off to sleep, which somehow, got him in peace enough to do the same.

Not until he whispered again.

“You're not alone. Don't forget that.”

Was the last thing you heard before closing your eyes, comfortably sleeping while cuddling no one other than Minho himself.

[lovevxle]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

"I hope it's okay if I love you forever"

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Adam x f!reader

cw: cursing, Adam being Adam, kissing, smut.

Summary: Adam asking reader out and getting a bit freaky afterrr

This is the smut version! Fluff version linked here (smut starts after paragraph 7)

a/n: sorry if this version took a bit long to be released! I've been busy with other projects and some requests. Hope you guys enjoy!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

"Aw Lute, I'm gonna fuck this up so bad!" Adam said as he paced back and fourth in his office. "Sir, it's really not that big of a deal. You're only asking her out-" Lute replied before being cut off "Not that big of a deal?! What if the bitch rejects me!? What if..." Adam panicked. He'd been planning on asking you out for months, he just didn't know how..

At first, he was his usual confident, cocky self but as soon as he looked at you, his mind blanked. Since then, he'd been trying to find the perfect moment just to ask you. "God, Lute...whenever I look at her..." Adam smiles as he speaks about you, "Her pretty face...her smile...even her voice is just..fuck, her hot ass voice is-" Lute cuts him off "I get it sir, you love her." "Y-yeah...I love her...a lot..but how the hell do I show it without saying stupid shit and being a fuckin' dick?"

Lute sighs and rolls her eyes "Just...be yourself but completely different, y'know? Girls like that type of thing." Adam inhales and exhales "Promise? What if I fuck the whole thing up?" He says, only slightly panicked now. "You wont. Well, you most likely will, but she wont reject you." Lute chuckles as she smiles for the first time in a while. She quickly goes back to her serious self and shoos Adam away to talk to you. "Now get outta here already!"

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ time skip ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Adam composed himself in the mirror, practicing what he was gonna say to you. "sooo...Y/n heh...you're pretty hot so- AW FUCK HOW IN HELL DO I DO THIS?!" he says to the mirror. He soon after walks out of his appartment and spots you walking through heaven. He rushes down to you.

When you see him, you immediately fix your clothes and hair, making sure to look extra cute for him. He appears behind you a few seconds later, acting 'cool' "Sup, buttercup~" he says, smirking seductively (or atleast what he thinks will be seductive to you), when in reality he's panicking. He makes a 'cool' pose, leaning against the wall.

"So~...you know how much i love that peice of ass and i also love railing that peice of ass...but...that's not why I'm here," Adam explains "look, you're cute and funny and..fuck..it's the first way I've felt like this since..Lilith.." He begins to blush and breath faster. "god...just-" he's cut off my your lips pressing against his. It was a light peck, but of course it still made his face heat up. He cups your cheeks (FACE 💀) and pulls away, smiling.

"So you were gonna ask me out?" you ask while you chuckle. "Y-yeah...I was..I'm taking that kiss as a yes?" he replies as he rubs the back of his neck, anxiously. "Yeah, I'll go out with you, dummy." Adam turns around and fist pumps the air "FUCK YEAH!" he yells, causing a few people to turn around and stare. "So I'll pick you up at 8?" He says as he goes back to his 'cool' pose against the wall. "Eh, right now works too."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ time skip ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You guys had just come home from the date (drunk of course) and stumbled into his appartment. You feel Adam's arms wrap around your waist and rub circles on your hips with his thumbs. "You know how crazy you make me, sugartits~" he whispers in your ear, flicking your earlobe with his tongue.

"A-Adam-" you get cut off by his hands slipping into your pants, playing with the waistband of your underwear. "You fucking tease..." you reply to his dirty moves. "C'mon..want me to make those pretty insides of yours feel real fuckin' good?" he whispers into your ear as he picks you up and plops you down on the bed, crawling over you.

You nod. I mean, with those soothing whispers and playful hands, who could say no? He begins to strip off both his and your clothes, making it agonizingly slow. He kisses and licks up your inner thighs, teasing you until you can't take it. "Are you wet for me yet, babe?" All you could do was nod because of the lack of words that would leave your mouth.

He slowly slips down your soaked underwear to reveal your aching pussy. He slides down his own pants and cups the bulge forming through his boxers. "Look at how hard you make me, baby~" He spreads your legs and sticks his pointer and middle finger inside you. The thumb on his free hand circles your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

Your moans get louder as his hands pick up the pace inside you. He then slowly slides his hands out, fingers dripping and oozing with your juices. He uses his hands to hold your folds open as he sucks your insides.

After a few minutes of Adam eating you out, he finally lets you feel his hard, raw cock inside of you. "All for you, sugartits~" he says as he thrusts in and out. He holds your hips in place and a knot in your stomach begins to build. "A-Adam I-...I-I'm close- Fuck!" you moan out. "That's it baby~ Just let it out, cum all over me~" he says as he thrusts one more time and-

The knot snaps.

You reach your limit and cum all over Adam's cock. "A-Aghh~!!" You moan out uncontrollably. "Just like that baby, fuck, you're so beautifly perfect.." After your climax, you plop down next to Adam and breath heavily. "God, you're so hot." he says as he wraps his arms around you. "I love you..." you reply.

"Same." he chuckles as he kisses the top of your head.

『~☆Masterlist☆~』

[crabs-with-sticks]

Trick Q+A on the solavellan ending

Haven't seen this going around much, I'm guessing because it was originally posted when everybody had their veilguard spoiler defenses up. But I did find it interesting.

Trick is answering some questions over on Bluesky and here are the questions and answers decoded from the rot13 cipher. Hopefully this provides more clarity and eases people's anxieties here and we can move forward in a more positive light with discussions: Q: Will where Solas and Inky end up in the Fade be strictly regret-themed or will her joining and their love influence it into something a bit less bleak (hence the specific elven phrasing)? rooting for my girl not to be in fade jail A: She's speaking both romantically and literally. It won't be terrible if they're in there together. Q: In the Solavellan ending, it says that Solas is Lavellan's true love. I know you've said she represents his future, but do you think she's his true love also? A: Yes. We framed it the way we did because the Inquisitor was your character last game, and because some people, we imagined, were doing this to give the Inquisitor the happy ever after she deserved, not Solas. Q: Did solas just Fade-mail it to her and it appeared? A: Inky and Morrigan have their ways. Q: Could you please tell us, if it is possible, why it was only Mythal's words that allowed Solas to stop this train of endless regrets from rolling into the abyss? I'm sorry, but it seemed too easy to me after so many centuries. Perhaps I don't understand the core of their relationship. A: That's what he needed to hear. Not because he loved Mythal more, but because she was the reason everything went wrong. She, the past, tells him to let go of all the mistakes of the past. And then the Inquisitor he wanted to be with is there to show him a better future. Q: Does Solas love Lavellan as much as he loves Mythal? I know Mythal is kinda all things to him- leader, oldest friend, maybe lover, and that's hard to overcome. On the other hand, his love for Lavellan seems less all-consuming, but purer. Anyway, love to hear your thoughts! A: Mythal is his past, where he made terrible mistakes. A romanced Lavellan is a bright future he doesn't think he deserves until he fixes all of those past mistakes. Q: When Solas tells Lavellan that the place he is going is terrible, where exactly sre they going? Back to the regret prison or somewhere else? A: The implication is that he's going back to the prison, and now that he'll be working to try to heal the blight while he's there.

Source (its to a reddit thread not the actual original quotes, and I'm going to trust that they did their due diligence because I don't have the energy to do it myself lol)

[ohhicas]

i noticed a decrease of LexZex art on twitter in the last couple months (there’s only a handful of artists and i take every crumb i can get haha) so i wandered into the tag and saw so many people dragging the ship, it was disheartening 😔😔 i saw your name mentioned or at least vague tweeted a couple times and i just wanna say even if the antis make online spaces uncomfortable for “bad ship” artists, there are always people supporting your art from the sidelines! don’t let the haters stop you from doing what you love, you’re doing god’s work with this ship! ˚‧º·(′̥̥̥ o ‵̥̥̥)‧º·˚

Hi anon! First up, I know how you feel-- to my knowledge I only know of like two other artists for this ship (both JP; people I'm friendly with) so when one goes missing, it certainly feels like a Void.

As far as people in the tags go; there's a very good reason why I never venture Into the tags, even at the start of my venture into KH. I don't even check my own Username tag because I saw something, once, and went "yknow what, nah". Some people are rancid for just the reason of having a squick towards a pairing with age gap-- despite most of their claims (Zexion being a minor; he's not, by an interview that lists all the Org minus Rox as 20+) (Aeleus being his 'father figure'; he's not. Ienzo has never listed Aeleus as a Father figure, when he lists his parental/mentors [They are listed as AtW, with a mocking commentary about Even's behavior towards him.]) just being headcanon. They spread this like it's canon, and use it as ammo to hurt strangers because they saw something they don't like and threw a fit, like a child being introduced to bitter vegetables. I never understood why they didn't just block, mute, move on. Rather, they'll openly vaguetweet, spread hate, and even screencap and go after users who don't use English as a first language leading to fear and hiding, with "is it safer if I just delete?" worries for their bullying behavior. [<- real situation! I had to speak a friend down from a metaphorical cliff over this!]

This kind of atmosphere does tend to kill a creative drive when someone is just enjoying a Kingdom Hearts fan-ship. I've never personally let these people get to me, but I'll admit I 'fell victim' to drawing for other fandoms and getting kinder commentary and reactions. (That's where I've been! Other fandoms crawled in and took over my mental space since it was kinder to engage in them.) (this also killed my urge to draw for KH at all. Not just the pairing I still love a lot and think of often, but in closed spaces with friends.)

So thank you for this message! It was nice to hear. I don't have any advice for anyone who wants to see more art from artists they love beyond "Support them", even if it's scary. If you support something and want to see more of it, openly support it.

Anyway that's my soapbox adulting for the evening. Thank you for giving me a reason to dust off my shaky skillset for them and draw them again.

[kzrosa-writes]

・︶꒦꒷ ˚ ₊ ✦ LOVE WAR ; dottore & pantalone x reader

two smitten harbingers fighting for your love and your heart, how do they try to win you over? ; love triangle between dottore and pantalone

likes, reblogs n follows are appreciated! <3

Attracting the attention of a Fatui Harbinger would be considered an accomplishment on its own. But two? That was much more than a miracle. But were you really lucky for attracting the attention of both the Ninth and Second Fatui Harbingers?

Pantalone believes that the best way of expressing love is through tangibility and quantity. As the Harbinger in charge of handling the Northland Bank's operations, he inevitably would have access to a vast amount of wealth. From exquisite jewels and necklaces to luxurious clothing specially tailored for you, Pantalone would provide you with all the splendour Teyvat has to provide. He believes that with each gift, he would be able to express his heartfelt feelings for you. You would often be greeted with a bouquet of flowers by your doorstep when you arrive back at your residence. Whenever you confront him about it, he would tell you that each bouquet is a profound declaration of his love, with each embedded a message an ardent reminder that he would always be there for you.

Dottore, on the other hand, believes that gifts are meaningless if the sender doesn't truly mean their actions. A gift could be so luxurious, but what use is it if the sender lacks sincerity? That's why he believes that the best way of expressing his love towards you is through his actions. Albeit small and subtle, it's the little things he does and the genuine effort he puts in that builds and strengthens your relationship and connection. Dottore isn't materialistic by any means, he prefers to make his love known through his deeds and actions. Are you struggling with your work? He would bring you your favourite drink to encourage you, and perhaps he would try his best to help you out, regardless of his lack of knowledge and skills in that field. Being the Fatui's lead scientist would mean that he has a good memory, and he would use it to remember everything about you. He picks up on the smallest things that you would mention during your conversations, and he would surprise you with simple acts that can easily bring a smile to your face. You would often be shocked, and mostly touched that he would remember such a miniscule detail about yourself. Dottore believes that actions speak louder than words, and therefore does his best to show you just how much you mean to him.

Unlike Dottore, Pantalone believes that words can be just as powerful and impactful as actions are. To him, words hold deep meanings to him. In the past, Pantalone had prayed endlessly to the gods, desperately seeking comfort and answers to his misery. He had never received the answers he had been longing for, and that was what caused him to believe that words are indeed equally important as actions. He had always craved reassurance, comfort and solace from the gods, looking for a sign that everything will be alright. But it never came. Pantalone uses this pain as a means of healing his own past, by offering you reassurance and words of comfort. Pantalone believes that words have the power to make or break people's spirits. Even a simple encouragement can lift spirits, even if it's just a little. Without a little push, some may not even move at all. That's why Pantalone loves to shower you with affectionate words. Hearing his smooth, soothing voice comforting you with sweet words will never fail to make your heart flutter. It's all part of Pantalone's charm. Whenever he notices a slight shift in your mood, he would ask you about it and try to make you feel better. Pantalone would never fail to make you feel special; he will always provide you with the comfort you need.

Dottore is not a sentimental person by any means. He's very closed about his true feelings and doesn't let people get close to him. But with you? It's different. There's just something about you so lovable that even the cold and apathetic Doctor can melt from your warm smiles. As Dottore struggles to explain his emotions through words, he prefers to spend his time with you to show you his feelings. He would always be there for you when you needed him. Despite his busy schedule, he would make time for you, enjoying your presence and basking in the comfort of your touch. Whenever confronted by you, Dottore would use the excuse of taking a break from work to spend time with you. But if he is really busy, you would receive attention from one of his Segments. His Segments are equally as enamoured by you, and they would be more than happy to spend time with you. Dottore says it's the least he could do if he can't be there for you when you need him.

At the end of the day, you would be showered by their affections and attention regardless. Both of them have their ways of showing you their appreciation and love. It's only a matter of who wins your heart at the end of the day. Would actions really speak louder than words? Or will the temptations of sweet words and opulent riches win you over? In the end, the choice would be yours to make.

— masterlist ・ navi ・ request rules

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon and the Exorcist 3

Part 1 Part 2

I was thinking about the fact Amaimon's vessel is young.

Reminder, Seti is a fennec fox spirit.

“Amaimon, why do you think I’m your girlfriend?”

Amaimon pushes his pink lollipop to one side of his mouth to speak clearly. “Big Brother said I can have you.”

"Of course, he did." You let out a sigh. Beside you, Seti grows in size, preparing himself for a confrontation in which he has no hope of winning against a demon king. “Amaimon, do you know what year it is? Assiah has moved past the era of owning people.” Not completely, but you don’t have the time to provide a lesson now. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you cannot have me.” You pat the fox’s side so he’ll shrink back down to size.

Amaimon pauses, then nods, agreeing, “Yes, so you’re my girlfriend.”

“That doesn’t make sense, but okay. Sure.” Mephisto said Amaimon will lose interest in you within a few days, so until then, you’ll just humor the demon king. Easy peasy. “I’m your girlfriend.”

A pleased look spreads across the demon king’s face. What Amaimon failed to mention is that Mephisto warned him he cannot have you and, once you finish introducing him to the customs of Assiah, he should leave you alone. But you just agreed to be his, so Mephisto can’t get in the way.

Seti's ears twitched with irritation as he observed the exchange between you and Amaimon. His sharp eyes narrowed with distrust towards the demon king. 

You exchanged a wary glance with Seti, who responded with a low growl under his breath. With Amaimon's enigmatic nature and unpredictable whims, Seti has to be the level-headed one since you’re acting like such an idiot. “He’s seen Tokyo and had lunch. Can we go now?”

“Amaimon, can we go?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“You’re my girlfriend; why do you sound so surprised.” He blinks, looking confused. “Isn’t that how it works ______? So, kiss me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

You glance at Seti, who stubbornly turns his head. He tried to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen. You can get yourself out of it—stupid human.

“…we’re in public. It’s rude to kiss in front of others.”

Amaimon’s eyes scan the area. “Nobody else is around.”

“Oh. Right.” Seti snorts at your reply. “I can’t kiss you when you have a lollipop in your mouth.” 

He raises a brow, crunching the candy in his mouth. Amaimon tosses the stick to the side, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes as he steps closer, his face mere inches from yours. His breath is warm against your skin. Seti lets out an exasperated sigh, muttering something under his breath about how stupid his human is. Seti's small form tensed, his tail flicking in agitation as he watched Amaimon lean in closer to you. 

As Amaimon's face drew near, his lips almost brushing against yours, Seti couldn't hold back any longer. With a fierce growl, he lunged forward, sinking his sharp teeth into Amaimon's hand before swiftly darting away.

Amaimon recoiled in surprise, his golden eyes widening slightly at the unexpected attack. His gaze shifted from his injured hand to Seti, who stood a few feet away, baring his teeth defiantly. The demon king's expression darkened, a dangerous glint passing through his eyes as he regarded the fox spirit. 

Realizing Amaimon is possibly about to harm Seti, you grab the front of Amaimon’s burgundy jacket, pulling him into a kiss. 

The unexpected kiss takes Amaimon by surprise; his eyes widen, and he freezes for a moment. His lips, which were just inches away from yours, are now pressed firmly against yours. Seti observes with a blend of shock and disapproval as you take matters into your own hands to protect him. 

Amaimon gradually relaxes into the kiss, a subtle curiosity intertwining with the initial shock. However, just as swiftly as it started, you pull away, abruptly breaking the kiss. Amaimon blinks, appearing almost dazed by the sudden end of this encounter. 

Your eyes widen at his expression as a slight blush colors his cheeks. Was that his first kiss? No, that can’t be; he’s too old. Then it hits you—Amaimon’s soul may be ancient, but his vessel is not. Judging by his reaction, it’s likely been quite some time since he experienced intimate physical touch with another person, and that vessel most likely has never experienced it. “Are you okay?” You question, unsure what else to do.

Amaimon's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he takes a step back, his usual composure returning. "That’s odd," he muses cryptically as if filing away the experience for future reference. Seti lets out a low growl, still wary of the demon king's intentions.

“Odd? What’s odd?” You frown.

His gaze locks onto yours for a fleeting moment before he confidently strides toward you, pressing his lips firmly against yours. This time, he takes control, guiding the kiss with a tilt of his head, letting his warm tongue glide sensually along your lower lip. You feel the sharpness of his claws digging into your hip as you hesitate to part your lips for him. But when an involuntary gasp escapes you, he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, teasingly brushing it against yours. 

As he pulls away, a deeper blush spreads across his cheeks, and the tips of his ears are flushed red. It’s strange seeing him so visibly flushed, yet his expression remains stoic as if nothing has occurred. His body and mind seem slightly disconnected. 

The intense flavor of strawberry candy lingers on your tongue, causing your face to flush. Unlike the king, your body and emotions respond similarly. Stiffly, you stand there, staring at Amaimon, uncertain of what to do next.

“You’re disgusting!” Seti growls, pulling you from your stupor. “It’s bad enough you kiss him, but then allow him to kiss you like that?” 

“I didn’t let him- ugh, never mind. Let’s go.” 

Amaimon had miraculously allowed you to go back home alone. He seemed absentminded when he waved off as you returned from Tokyo. 

“You don’t realize what you’ve done, do you?” Seti jumps on the back of the sofa as you enter the apartment. “What are you talking about, Seti? Mephisto said he has a short attention span; he’ll move on within a few days.” You shrug.

“_____.” 

“Yes?” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Seti-“ The fox spirit cuts you off. “The Earth King does have a short attention span, but have you ever thought that maybe if he finds something interesting enough, he might hyperfocus on it?” 

You scoff at the idea. “Luckily, I’m not interesting enough for that. I’m exhausted, though. I’m going to sleep.”

“Treat your shoulder first; you don’t want to get an infection.” The little fox orders. 

“Right, thanks, Seti.” As you walk toward the bedroom, you slide your dress off your body. Bandages cover your shoulder; you should have changed them last night, but you were so exhausted from your house guest that you completely forgot. This morning, you didn’t have any time to take care of it either. The fox follows you into the bathroom, hopping onto the sink to get a better view of your wound as you remove the bandages. “You really should see a doctor to have them treat and rewrap it. You’re terrible at taking care of yourself.” You frown at the fox in the mirror, but he’s not wrong; it doesn’t seem to be completely closed, and you might need some stitches. “I really don’t want to leave and have to go to the hospital.” You groan, poking at the wound. Seti bites your arm. “Idiot, don’t touch it- call Mephisto and tell him to send a doctor. He can at least send you a doctor if you have to babysit his brother.” 

“You’re right.” 

“Oh, so I’m finally right about something now?” 

“Grumpy old man.” You grin, flicking his ear. “I’ll call for someone now.” 

The someone who shows up is an old classmate, grinning brightly as he recognizes you. “_____!” He opens his arms wide to pull you into a warm hug, having always been very affectionate. “How have you been?” 

You return the hug the best you can. “Other than the gash on my shoulder pretty good, and you?” 

“Great!” His eyes lock on Seti. “Hey, Seti-“ 

“Don’t touch me.” The little fox snaps as Daigo attempts to reach for the little fox. 

Daigo’s grin falters for a moment, but then he refocuses his attention on you. “What happened?” Gently lifting your chin, he tilts your head to the side for a better look at your shoulder. You let out a huff, replying, “A demon, what else?” He rolls his eyes, pressing a cotton ball against the wound with a bit more pressure than necessary. “Details, idiot.” 

"An inexperienced exorcist was assigned to a mission that was beyond their capability; I was shielding them when the demon got too close.” You frown, “It hurts, and I hate it. The asshole bit me.” 

“The demon or the exorcist?”

“Shut up, Daigo.” 

"You never know; I know a few people who wouldn’t mind taking a bite," he laughs, pulling out some clean bandages. “One of them is my coworker who works at the hospital. Do you remember Kouki?”

“...I have a boyfriend.” Technically, this isn’t a lie since Amaimon has decided you’re his girlfriend, and you agreed.

A look of shock spreads across Daigo’s face. “You? You have a boyfriend?”

“It’s not that surprising! You haven’t seen me in almost a year, alright?” 

Daigo shrugs. “Alright, so who is the lucky guy? Do I know him? Is he an exorcist?”  

“He’s not an exorcist,” you mumble, and to your left, Seti lets out a snort.

Once Daigo has patched you up, he collects his supplies and gives you a farewell as he steps out of your apartment. 

“Finally, I can rest.” 

Just as you start to relax, a knock interrupts your peace. “Are you kidding me?” you mutter, standing up. You’re surprised by the figure on the other side of the door. “Amaimon, do you need something?” You were so sure he wouldn’t return until tomorrow, if ever again. Nevertheless, you step aside, letting the demon king enter. Yet, as he approaches, he recoils slightly. With an unsettlingly blank expression, he comments. “You smell disgusting.” 

“Uh.”

“Why do you smell like a man?”

“Huh?” 

“Who touched you?”

“Huh?” 

Seti scoffs. “He can smell Daigo on you. I warned you, idiot.” The fox casts a weary glance at Amaimon; he’s clearly starting to grow attached. “A doctor came and treated the wound on her shoulder.”

You have so many questions. Seti jumps on the back of the sofa to get closer to you. Lowering his voice, he gives you an order. “Go change your clothes; I’ll explain later.” 

Rather than stressing over your outfit, you slip on a sleep shirt and shorts, hoping you’ll finally get to rest when Amaimon leaves. When you reenter the living room, you find Amaimon nearly hovering over you, as if he’s examining you. “What are you doing?" you ask, but he remains silent. Instead, he steps around to your sofa, looking at you expectedly to sit beside him.

You barely settle onto the sofa when Amaimon pins you underneath him. He gazes into your eyes for a moment before lowering his head and pressing his warm lips against yours. As he pulls away, a faint blush returns to his cheeks again. It’s painfully cute. So, when he leans in for a second kiss, you shyly wrap your arms around his shoulders and welcome him as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Tilting his head for a better angle, his lips work against yours. He pulls away again, his face a darker shade of red, and like in Tokyo, the blush spreads to his ears. 

Seti mutters something about you being disgusting before running out of the living room. Amaimon pulls you into another kiss, and it’s obvious he knows what he’s doing; he’s not kissing you like an awkward teenage first kiss, but how his body reacts is interesting. Amaimon obviously finds it just as interesting because after keeping you pinned to the sofa, lips pressed against yours for a few more minutes, he sits up and touches one of his cheeks, then his ear.