#and i'm too lazy to change things like that along with my changes in content
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which Badfinger song would you use for a URL if you could?
SO MANY POSSIBILITIES i could be sweettumblrmorning instead of sweet tuesday morning or nameoftheblog instead of name of the game or storminatumblr instead of storm in a teacup. comeandblogit instead of come and get it. i actually love that.
MAYBETOMORROWIWILLBLOGAGAIN
midnightblogger
blogofallages
BLOGWYN < this is my favorite one
yes they have to be puns on "tumblr" or "blog"
but no, i would actually probably choose something more serious for an emotional reason and i'm not sure what that would be right now, i would probably analyze every single lyric thoroughly with blog name thoughts in mind to pick the perfect one that i could keep forever. this is IF i planned on having a permanent badfinger blog. it would take me a while to come up with one, probably.
if i was limited to only using the actual song titles without them being puns and just because i like the song, then i'd probably go wiiittttth (scrolling my playlist right now) either blodwyn, we're for the dark orrrr beautiful and blue. or walk out in the rain. or blind owl. i like other songs a lot too but i vibe with the titles of these ones the most, i think.
i could go with perfection, but i would want some extra lyrics so it would have more of the song's point in it because he's saying there is no real perfection. i agree, pete.
i would also consider apple of my eye but i think i like the other ones more for urls so i don't think it would be a final choice(though i do love the song)
i'm rambling now, look at what you did to me anon (thank you very much i'm having fun answering this)
shine on could work too actually because it sounds happy and uplifting, like yes i think i will shine on today. AND the music sounds happy so every time i look at the url it would put a happy sound in my head. and the image of pete's mustache.
i'll stop here because i'm going to end up listing too many songs and explaining why and how they could work for a url
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amnestria-the-elf · 4 months ago
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So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).
I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.
Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.
First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.
Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."
For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.
Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)
And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.
Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.
The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.
I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.
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amongemeraldclouds · 25 days ago
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sober solutions to drunk discoveries
After a drunken kiss blurs the line of friendship, you and Mattheo get in the way of your happiness, prompting Enzo to play matchmaker.
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Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader
Part two to nine shots of firewhiskey, can also be read as a standalone.
Content: fluff, slight angst, spicy but no smut, characters aged up
✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 2.5k words
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The faint smell of alcohol invaded your senses, growing more pungent as seconds ticked past. The moment you dared to open your eyes, regret flashed through you along with the bright sun that assaulted your vision, hammering drum beats into your skull.
You shifted, burying your face in the pillow, its softness welcoming you back. Except you shouldn't have spun so fast for the entire world itself spun around you. You could have sworn you've never been caught in a tornado before, yet that's exactly what it felt like.
You grabbed the first thing within reach: a muscular arm. It was enough to steady you, anchoring you in place. In the sudden calm, you could finally hear your thoughts: why was there a well chiseled arm wrapped around you? Why did it feel good? What were you doing feeling up someone's arm?
Oh, this arm belonged to Mattheo Riddle. Words drenched in alcohol dripped into your mind like lazy morning dew, "you don't want to fuck me?" You asked Mattheo last night, your eyes wide and body burning with lust and inebriation.
Now it burned with shame. Forget coffee and tonics. Never underestimate the unbridled force of humiliation to knock your senses back into you.
Not for the first time, you wondered which gods you had angered to have incurred another set of misfortune. It was bad enough to be that heartbroken girl who got stuck in detention, sunk her grades, and nearly got disowned by her parents. You also had to be the girl who practically begged your best friend to fuck you.
You shrunk, cringing inwardly as you inched away from beneath the blanket, careful not to wake Mattheo. You breathed a sigh of relief when you landed clumsily with a thud on the floor. The cool air kissed your skin, reminding you to retrieve your blouse from where it lay crumpled on the bed.
A figure stirred from the other end of the room, a bleary eyed Lorenzo stared at you with his sleep-toussled hair. You instinctively wrapped your arms across your chest.
"You didn't see anything!" You whispered, trying to get ahead of him.
He blinked then repeated your words, "I didn't see anything."
"Stop screaming!" you hissed, moving away from Mattheo, blouse in hand.
"I'm not, I'm whispering!" Enzo shot back, arms raised.
"Well whisper softer!"
You turned around, fastening the blouse back on. You had been friends with Enzo long enough to feel his eyes roll from behind you.
"Just use my coat," he whispered and you nodded.
You turned back, "thank you, go back to sleep. I was never here. I'll return this later."
You snuck off, leaving behind the sleepy boy and the boy you love. It was too early to deal with the weight of your feelings. Feelings were reserved for midnight musings. When the sun was up, you had to lists to cross off, grades to earn back, a reputation to salvage, and feelings to avoid. For starters, you desperately needed a shower.
Enzo looked at the spot you just vacated then watched Mattheo, wondering what happened last night. It wasn't like you to sneak off that way, but he knew better than to get involved. You and Mattheo were bound to drag him into it anyway, the least he could do was be well rested for the chaos.
As he went back to sleep, Enzo smiled. You seemed back to your usual self, if a bit jumpier. It was still a win.
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The second the bell chimed, you snapped your book shut and were halfway through the classroom, robe fluttering behind you in style. You were eager to be the first one out so you didn't have to run into Mattheo.
It did not add up. Mattheo was your safe space, your confidant, and partner in crime. And yet, something had changed last night. Insecurities swarmed through your head faster than you could outrun them.
What if Mattheo only said he'd be yours because he felt sorry for you? What if it was just a drunken illusion that vanished with sobriety? What if you were better off as friends? You couldn't risk another heartbreak so soon.
A sudden collision brought you back to the present moment as your books crashed onto the floor. "Sorr-" you started when you saw those familiar curls again. Except you now knew how soft they felt between your fingers and you ached to reach out. To be close to him again.
"Hey," Mattheo breathed out. Your eyes travelled straight to his lips, his usual smirk now skewed and awkward. You already missed how they felt against your lips, tender and wild. Your breath caught in your lungs. As luck would have it, you bumped into the very wizard you were trying to avoid. With all your effort to evade him in class, you had completely missed the fact that Mattheo had been skiving off.
You lowered yourself as a distraction and started collecting your books as you gathered your thoughts.
"Mattheo, I-" you started and reached out when he handed you your book. Without meaning to, your fingers brushed against his and your heart was picking up speed again, drumming to the beat of his name. It was too much to handle. "-have to go." You ended your sentence and walked away, resisting the urge to run.
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"You have got to stop torturing Riddle," Enzo plopped down the chair beside you.
"I did no such thing," you shot back, your friendship long past the usual pleasantries of 'hi's and 'hello's. "What's he up to this time?"
"He's been prattling on about you at the Astronomy Tower, an entire bottle of firewhiskey in hand. We've got to get him back down," Enzo explained.
Concern spread through you like wildfire, but you hesitated, your insecurities weighing you down. "I don't know if I'm the one who can help him."
Enzo sighed, "What really happened last night?"
"We maybe sort of kind of," you began, "kissed."
"Fina-fucking-ly!" Enzo slammed his hand on the table, the bang echoing across the library. Annoyed faces were directed at him and the librarian's stern gaze burned through his skull. He smiled at them apologetically, turning on his charm.
"What do you mean?" You asked, bringing him back to your conversation.
"Oh come on, y/n," he rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows you and Mattheo are end game, even Cedric could see it too. Fuck that twat for how he dealt with it, you didn't deserve that. But you and Mattheo, it's bound to happen like snow in winter or snakes shedding skin."
"You did not just compare me to snake skin," you scoffed, the weight of his words sinking in.
"Stop deflecting, I said what I said. He likes you, you like him. I don't see the problem," he opened his hands wide to emphasize his point.
"Great, now I feel stupid," you exclaimed.
"And Mattheo's being a tosser up at the Astronomy Tower, you two were truly made for each other."
"Lorenzo Bekrshire, you're a wonderful friend, aren't you?" You replied sweetly, your words laced with sarcasm. "Come on, let's rescue that wanker."
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You slowed as you reached the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, the evening breeze cooling you down while your heart pounded in your chest. There was no backing out now, certainly not after going up those long flights of steps. Your legs were jelly from the effort and the anticipation of facing your fears.
You looked tentatively at Enzo, who nodded his support. Just before you took another step, he gently placed his hand around your arm.
"This is where I'll leave you two to figure things out. Lay it all out and don't hold back. It's good advice for sharing your feelings and throwing up. You'll feel better afterwards."
Your eyebrows crinkled, "but I can't haul his drunk arse down the stairs myself."
"Just follow my advice, that'll sober him up. Except for the throwing up part, that one's for Riddle," he smirked.
You opened your mouth to respond, but Enzo quickly raised his finger.
"No more stalling. Look, I've got this date tonight and I won't be back until tomorrow morning. So have fun, yeah? Tell Mattheo, he better not screw it up. I'm running out of coats." With that, he turned and started walking downstairs.
You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. It didn't make sense that your entire world just blew up months ago. Being with Cedric felt like a lifetime ago, and there in front of you, was your potential future.
Your heart ached at the memory of your kiss. A kiss more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey in the way it breathed life into your world again. A lonely garden now teeming with the butterflies in your stomach and the blossoming of hope and desire. Feelings you had nearly forgotten about.
You approached carefully, crouching down across him as he took another swig from the bottle.
"Oh there you are again," Mattheo slurred, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Your eyes followed the movement as you resisted the urge to reach out to him and kiss him again.
Before you had a chance to respond, he continued. "Of course you're there too, I was just talking to you here," he gestured to the empty space beside him. "I tried not to think about you, you know? You're my fucking best friend. To which I mean that as a cuss word, not that we're best friends who fuck, because we're not. Even though I want us to, which you do too!" He dramatically gestured to you and that space beside him again before going on.
"But you were drunk and I didn't know if you'd still want me when you're sober. And can I be honest? I didn't want to just fuck you. It sounds crass and I know that's ironic coming from me, but..." he trailed off as he stared at you.
"I'm sorry, look at your eyes! You're so beautiful and for the first time, I don't want to fuck. I want all the soppy bullshit poets write about divine dances and souls entangled. Load of bollocks if you ask me, but it makes sense with you. Why is that?"
You blinked, trying to catch up with his drunken ramblings. "So last night, you didn't think I was pathetic?"
"What? You are many things y/n, but never pathetic," he replied. "Anyone would have broken down if they went through everything you did and I wanted to hold you together, but you just got up. Day after day, you got up and you went on. You cried and you screamed and we drank, but then you went on. Do you have any idea how brave you have to be just to do that?"
Tears filled your eyes at his words. He was always more honest when he was drunk but it still caught you off guard how the boy with dark eyes and a dangerous smile hid an entire universe within him.
"No, no, no, hey hey," Mattheo reached forward as a tear slipped down your cheek. "I always fuck things up, don't I?" He said, cupping your face to wipe off the tear. "This is why we're better off as best friends even though I've liked you for a while now. I'll just drink my whiskey and talk to this imagined version of you."
You suddenly quirked an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. He was so adorable, you hated the roller coaster of emotions you were on but no longer wanted to walk away from. "Can figments of imagination cry?"
"Well they never did except for you, so that's new. Unless..." he trailed off, the gears in his head spinning albeit rusty from the alcohol. You watched patiently as his eyes widened and crimson flooded his cheeks. "You're real, aren't you?"
"Only one way to find out," you said as you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Of course it was a lie. There were so many ways to find out, but fuck it you just needed to kiss him. And there it was again, more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey. It was an eternity you could live in forever.
The weight of the kiss sank deep in Mattheo's bones, grounding him from the drunken haze in his head. Your kiss was sobering and intoxicating at the same time, a delicious cocktail of emotions that far outweighed the experience of drinks and drugs. You may have ruined it for him forever and he didn't mind it one bit.
Mattheo held you close as he kissed you, one hand at the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you straddled him. It was always inevitable, wasn't it? Falling for you. You with your beautiful face, the way you made him laugh, and how he felt at home with you. His heart never stood a chance.
For once, he wanted to move past his flaws and fears, so he could finally allow himself to want you. He felt it with the intensity at which he sucked your bottom lip, asking to be let in. You gasped at his boldness and his tongue darted in to explore your mouth. He may be good at fucking shit up, but for you he wanted to try.
A grunt escaped his throat when you rocked your hips against him and you were rewarded with the growing length you felt in his pants. Your fingers were wrapped in his curls while the other moved around his arm, feeling up his muscles again.
You needed to finish your conversation before you allowed yourself to go further. Reeling in your desires, you broke up for air. You were surprised when this didn't deter Mattheo as he kissed your jaw instead, planting delicate kisses down your neck. You sighed in pleasure, ready to let go of the words, but you needed to reassure him.
"Mattheo Riddle, my sweet Matty, you should know you don't just screw things up. You bring so much life and energy wherever you go and I'm so happy I get to be around you a lot. You're a firecracker, Riddle."
"For you darling, I'll be a fucking nebula," he said, his lips swollen and hair disheveled. You took a moment to drink him all in and admire your handiwork.
Tiny fireworks exploded in your chest at his words and you giggled at how sweet he was when he was drunk, both on alcohol and in love. "Now what was it you told me last night? I'm sober and I still want you so"
"I'm all yours," he completed the sentence, kissing you again.
In between kisses, you asked, "and what exactly did the poets mean about divine dances and soul entanglements?"
Mattheo gave a low chuckle, "oh princess, I'm no fucking poet, let me show you instead."
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✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist
A/N: This is the first time I've written a part two for a fic. Matchmaking Enzo is my fave!
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idesofrevolution · 1 year ago
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Father
Dad had been acting strange for quite some time. Honestly, it wasn't that noticeable in the beginning, which I suppose made it difficult to pinpoint when things started to change. I only started to notice maybe seven months or so ago after he turned down the daily Budweiser. Patrick O'Shaughnessy turning down his biggest vice? I knew something was off right then and there as he sat there, smiling at me from his armchair with the game on in the background: red flag number two, my stepfather had NEVER been a sports guy. Binging Fox News while fingering pudding cups, sure; but actually knowing what was happening in a football game?
I'd originally thought he'd perhaps found a side girl to cheat on my mom with. It was far from outside of his character to do something like that, if he'd ever be able to get his nasty ass out of the recliner for ten fucking minutes... He'd gotten too comfortable in his laziness. When my mom married him a year ago, he was already a piece of shit lardass who refused to do a single thing around the house, refused to work a normal job (he was waiting for a management position apparently), and above all refused to acknowledge me whatsoever. He was rude, crass, could never even so much as break a smile at me. And there, in that moment as his eyes made contact with mine and his lips curled into a smile, I knew something was wrong.
"What, no beer burps for me today?" I scowled at him, raising my eyebrow in a malicious curiosity.
"Nahh little man, I'm trying to cut down." Little man? He'd never gotten my name right let alone given me a nickname... We did not have that kind of relationship, at least one that would have an affectionate nickname for one another. "Say, I'm hittin' the gym in a couple minutes. Whaddya say you come along?"
"You're... you're going to the gym? Really?" I sat there slackjawed. Something was indeed off. What it was, I couldn't exactly tell. Nothing outside of his UberEats order would ever get Patrick out of the chair. He laughed at me, gripping his sizeable paunch beneath his stained tee shirt.
"You bet, bud. High time I set an example for my boy. How's he gonna respect a couch potato loser? You should come along. Nothin' like a father and son spending time together, especially in the gym. Get the boys lookin', right?" He stood up from his chair, grabbing his keys off the kitchen countertop as he headed toward his car. I, on the other hand, stood there with tunnel vision. Patrick was not the most supportive parent when it came to... well, anything. But the biggest bone of contention was me coming out to them last year. It was the biggest hullabaloo, Oscar worthy. Thrown glasses, flipped chairs, disownment, threats of eviction... the only thing that kept me in the house was my mother putting her foot down. It wasn't a big deal for her, but for him... I was the biggest embarrassment on the planet. What would Tucker Carlson think?
Yet as I stood there, staring at the cigarette-stained wall, my brain couldn't process what I'd just heard. 'Get the boys lookin' he said... As if he were trying to play wing man for me... What the fuck was happening? My heart fluttered the moment his words sank in, that was pride. It was something neither my father nor my stepdad ever had the courtesy of giving me. My walls were up, and I was beyond skeptical, so for my own peace of mind I had decided then and there to investigate.
From that day on, the moment I came home from school, I was spying. While most of my friends were trying to enjoy their senior year, going to parties or getting ready for college, I was at home peering behind corners at my stepfather. Over the first few months I watched with complete disbelief at the changes. Every single day, I'd come home, and he'd be on his way out to the gym. The normal scowl he'd gift me upon my entry was replaced with jovial smiles and hair ruffling as he schlepped his gym bag over his shoulder out the door. He'd be gone for two or three hours at least, and come home just before dinner dripping in buckets of sweat. I'd begun to avoid driving his car, as the stink of his sweat had completely inundated the fabric of the seats. He'd toss his bag on the floor by my book bag (gross), and plop down at the dinner table where he would ask genuinely about my day or sweetly flirt with my mom while winking at me. I still wasn't convinced. He kept asking me nearly every day if I'd come to the gym with him, if we could go shoot hoops at the park across the street, or if I'd play FIFA with him. Each time I'd shoot him down, he'd have a momentary break in that happy facade of his, as if it were hurting him I wasn't spending time with him.
Within five months or so, he was nearly unrecognizable. I guess protein shakes & a low carb diet really works on a guy: he'd lost nearly 70 pounds and gained about 20 in muscle alone. He'd struck up friendships with my school's wrestling coach and a couple of the neighbors, and we were finding ourselves invited to barbecues and block parties for the first time. I had to endure little hallway chats with Coach Weston about joining the wrestling team, as he was in talks with the school district about bringing my stepdad on as assistant coach. It was bizarre to me for many reasons, but one stood out above all: Patrick was never a wrestler. Not in college, not in high school, my mom even confirmed it one night at dinner. He'd brush it off as if it were something fun he were doing with 'Dane', which in and of itself was weird to hear the coach's first name used at all at home.
Sleep was getting difficult. My mind ran at a thousand miles an hour, but now he and mom had begun to fuck like rabbits. Loud, hard sex almost every other night with their bed slamming against my bedroom wall for hours. Mom of course was radiant at that point. The years of one piece of shit husband being a complete and total asshole, replaced by another piece of shit husband treating her like garbage melted away in the course of a couple of months of Patrick being a strangely brilliant partner. He'd started to cook us meals, he'd started to do the yardwork, he'd even fixed things around the house that had been broken for years. Sure, the sex seemed to help, but as she would say: "He's lessened my load so much, Jonas. I wish you'd give him a chance."
Sure, he was treating my mom well and that was a good enough reason for me to like him. Was it enough to trust him? No. I'd still turn down every single request to spend time alone with him. No gym. No basketball court. No gaming. Though, in one single concession for my mom's sake, I begrudgingly agreed to let him drive me to school in the morning. That one decision is what truly changed my life forever. I went to bed that night, putting on my earbuds to drown out their disgusting sex in the next room, less than eager for the fifteen minute drive the next day.
Thus, on that warm April day, my morning began as normal. Shower, dress, drink my morning smoothie, grab my bag, and walk out the door. It wasn't long before I was greeted by his chipper, dim witted voice shattering my peaceful morning.
"Ayy little man!" I sighed, turning toward the garage, where there he stood: shirtless and dripping sweat from his chiseled body. As a gay guy, I have to admit, it was hard not to stare. He had become quite a sight to behold. The other moms in the neighborhood certainly would sit and stare at him on his morning runs, even a couple of the dads as well, and now I sat there oogling the ripped, gleaming body he'd built.
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"Hey, Patrick. Do you need to shower? I have to get going, but I can catch the bus if there's not enough time?" In my head, I was praying to God that he'd just hop in the shower he never seemed to take and I could go on my merry way. Though, no such luck.
"Nah, man! It's all good. I promised you I'd take you to school, so hop in the car!" I sighed, turning to his 1998 Mustang with a shiver cascading down my spine.
"Sure, Patrick." I dragged my feet headed toward his car. Opening the door, the humid, musky air within poured out of the car, punching me in the face with his scent. Imagine a noxious waft of butter, blue cheese, saltwater, and feet just drowning you. That was the stink that swamped his car, and him for that matter. I took one final breath of fresh air before I sat in the car and closed the door. He wasn't far behind, not even bothering to put a shirt on as he hopped in beside me.
"Alright! Let's get goin' bud!" He turned the key and the car roared to life. I sighed, thankful it was only fifteen minutes. As we pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, I turned on the radio, hoping to dissuade him from making some puerile small talk. We sat there in silence for a moment, before hitting the main road. "You know what, bud?" He turned to me, looking me up and down before rolling up the windows and turning off the radio. "Ahhh fuck it. We're playing hooky today."
"Wait, what?" I had no time to protest, before he turned onto the main road, but in the opposite direction from the school. "Patrick, I'm not playing hooky. I have to go to school." He laughed, ruffling my hair yet again.
"You gotta stop callin' me Patrick, Jonas. I don't have to be dad if you don't want, but Patrick is so... not me. Just call me Pat."
"Okay, PAT. I'm going to school." He turned to me, and his smile faded, letting out a solid sigh that would put mine to shame. He pulled over onto the shoulder, and put the car in park.
"Listen. I know you don't like me. I know you don't trust me, and I get it. I made a lot of changes to him very quickly, and it's hard to keep up." Him? Why did he say it like that? "I'd been watching you just suffer endlessly for years, man. All the time. I just wanted you to have a good role model for once. A man you could lean on, and not some shitty lard who talks bad to ya."
"What the fuck are you on about?" My patience had worn too thin for my calm veneer to bear. He turned the key, and the engine quickly died.
"C'mon bro. You know something's different about him, right? I know you've been watchin' me like a hawk. Think I haven't noticed you watchin' me from around the hall corner? You think I don't know you're creepin' while I beat one out huffin' my strap? I know, dude. I've always known. C'mon, man." Pat threw his hands in the air in frustration, the first time since his attitude adjustment that I'd seen anything like it. But, this was different. It wasn't rage, it was exasperation.
"Okay, Pat. So you saw me watching you. Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on now?" He slowly rested his sweaty head against the headrest, and sighed. Then, a chuckle. Then another, until he was full on laughing. "What!?"
"Ahhh, man. I never thought I'd see the day you'd man up and come to. Yeah, Jonas. I can tell you what the fuck is going on." I sat back, confounded- even more so than before. "My name was Matt Wilde. Way back in the day, I used to wrestle for Palm Heights High. Was pretty damn good at it too, but one day I got pinned just a little too hard and poof."
"Matt Laurent? What the fuck are you talking about, Pat? Are you high?" His dumb laugh threw him back in the seat.
"Nah, I finished that joint earlier, man. Stone sober now. But, safe to say for the past 50 years I've been just hoppin' body to body. Started with a couple of my teammates just so I could finish out the years, wrestle a bit more. Got bored, hung around the gym, in and out of some lug heads. Did a stint in some Libertines, that was fun as fuck. But man, I saw you sulkin' around the school for the past three years and thought, damn that kid looks sad. So, I may have eavesdropped a bit, maybe caught a bit about your dead beat, piece of shit dad; then right after he ditches, Mom lands this fuckin' winner." He slapped his chest, little droplets of his sweat landing on my bewildered face. "Oh shit, my bad." I sat there, slackjawed, completely disoriented as he dumbly wiped his sweat off my nose and cheek.
"You... you're dead?" He snapped his fingers, winking and smirking at me.
"Bingo, bud. Right on the money. I was like, I'm in a very unique situation here to fuckin' do something this. So, I slipped into this dumbass and just stuck around. Did the work. Tried, emphasis on TRIED, to be like the Dad I had and that you deserve, ya know? Haven't made it fuckin' easy, but... ahhh. That's parenthood, am I right?" I scoffed, he must have taken some damn good drugs. I was convinced. There was no way!
"Okay, then. MATT. So, if you're some dead jock bro possessing Pat, where the fuck is he?" He pondered for a moment in silence, shrugging his shoulders.
"I think he's gone, bro. I haven't stayed in a dude this long, I used to hear him bitchin' and moanin' all the time, but he went silent a couple of weeks ago." Fuck, I wish that were true. I had to admit, even if only in my mind, this Matt-Patrick was lightyears better than Patrick Patrick. Sure, he was dumb, he was every stereotype dudebro in the book, he smelled like he bathed in sweat baths... But, for the first time in my life, he wanted to be around me. He wanted to spend time with me. He made an effort. He... liked me. The mental gymnastics needed to make sense of the situation was growing too monumental to comprehend, but in that moment as he sat there with his dumb fucking grin on his face as if I was going to just completely buy it, I started to hope it was true.
"So, what now, Matt? Are you just gonna keep fucking my mom and prentending to be my Dad for the rest of your life? Or are you gonna hop out and ditch us?" He raised his eyebrow in genuine confusion.
"I mean, yeah that was the plan. One, your mom is fuckin' hot and she's better than any girl I've ever been with. Two, I kinda like our little family. Three, I ain't ditchin' ya, bro. You had enough of that shit for one lifetime. Besides, I gotta get you to chill the fuck out one way or another, so I was hoping we could give it a shot. Like I've been beggin' man." 'Matt' put his hands together as if praying, pleading to me. I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing. It's better than coming home every day to spy on him, and it's way better than being the sad wallflower all the fucking time. Besides, those dumb fucking puppy dog eyes...
"You know what? Sure, Matt. What did you have in mind?" I could barely finish my sentence before he'd twisted the key and slammed on the gas. The man drove like a bat out of hell through town, hooting and hollering in victory as if he'd won a match.
"Hell fuckin' yeah, man! Dude we're gonna be so tight, it's gonna be awesome. You're gonna be so fuckin' sexy, the dudes are gonna be on their knees by the time we're done! Slobberin' on that dick like SLURPEDY SLURP! WOO!" So fuckin' dumb. Dumb as a box of rocks. But I couldn't help but crack a smile as he swerved left and right, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Let's get you sweatin' man. We can get you pumpin' iron, playin' ball... I'm burning everything you got in your closet, bro. Nobody wants polos and button ups, man. Gettin' you some J's, some good jocks. Oh, how do you feel about chains?"
"Matt, dude. I'm not like you. That's all well and good for you, but I can't pull that shit off..." He slammed on the brakes and a cavalcade of horns from behind us rang out like a brass band. Matt whipped his gaze to me in shock.
"Don't say that, bro! You could be a bona fide stud! Look at you, man!" A couple of hard slaps against my bony chest and a harsh wheeze later, perhaps it sank in a bit. "Aight, well we have some work to do. I mean, if you're up for it." He smirked at me, lifting up those massive arms and flexing. His veins bulged from his massive bicep, the wet hairs in his ripe pits wafted that pungent scent I'd regrettably started to secretly love... Yeah, maybe I did want it.
"I don't know how, man. If I were like you, I bet I could." As if a cartoon lightbulb flickered to life above his head, I saw the spark of inspiration hit him like a sack of bricks. That stupid smirk grew into a wide, toothy grin.
"Aight, bro. Haven't tried this before, but I'll give it a go." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them gently. "I saw Jimmy Morales do this once when he needed a spotter. Gotta ask, though. You trust me, right?" I sat there and wondered if I did. I'd pretended up until this point that I believed every word that had come out of his mouth. This insane, psychotic story. It was nuts. It was crazy. But that little voice in the back of my head, deep down in the dark recesses of my brain decided to finally speak up.
"Yeah, Matt. I trust you."
"ALRIGHT! Fuck yeah, man. Oh shit, this is gonna be great! Okay, so don't freak out, just trust me and let it happen, okay? It doesn't hurt, the dudes usually bust a nut after it's all over." I heard a squelching rumble from in his stomach: wet, guttural, as if he were getting ready to vomit. Which became more and more likely as I saw a lump start to make it's way up his throat.
"Matt..." His body began to shudder and quake, his veins bulging and head thrashing from side to side. Then, from between his lips, a glowing blue vapor began to slip out. It was tiny at first, a little tail whipping about, before more and more of it started to bellow out of his mouth. Slick, bulbous, translucent. I had mere seconds of watching it slither out before it darted right into my own slack jaw. It squirmed as it wriggled from his body into mine, slurping deep into my bulging stomach. The feeling of fullness overtook me, watching more and more of the rubbery thing enter me, squeezing into every available inch within me, and he was right: it felt good. It felt like an eternity, but in reality it was just moments. The last of suctioned into me, and the world went black.
---
I woke the next morning in my bed. Shooting straight upright in a puddle of sweat. I rubbed my hands on my face, running my fingers through my drenched hair. What a fuckin' dream. I groaned as doubled over in pain. I felt like I was hit by a train. Everything hurt, a soreness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before radiated from every fiber of my being. Then, a soft caress of the nostril. Salty, buttery, funky... I raised my arm, finding the culprit immediately.
"Fuck!" I spat out, before taking a deep breath, another hit. "Fuuuuck..." Another inhale, a familiar stink, a comforting stink. What started as gentle whiffs quickly turned into full on huffing. I buried my nose in my pit, letting the wet jungle lather my face in my own sweat.
"Morning, bro. Good shit, ain't it?" The words echoed in my head, a soft, rippling little voice from within my brain. I should have been alarmed, terrified, even. But no, the words felt like gospel to me. "We really went to town yesterday, man. I had you liftin' like an Olympian. Take it easy. Here, I'll be right there, I got just the thing for it!" My hands started to drift southward, beneath the waistband of the teal sweats I didn't own... Were they... Pats? The door to my room burst open mid-huff, and in walked the hulking tower himself with a tray in hand.
"Goooood Morning, Kiddo! I made ya a protein shake, good recovery breakfast after a workout sesh like we had! Oh, your Mom made eggs!" He walked over to the side of my bed, kicking the Jordans I'd borrowed from him to the side. Wait, when did I do that? "Eat up, champ. Those 'ceps aren't gonna feed themselves!" Slamming the tray down onto my thighs, I let out a groan of pain.
"Pat? Dude, I had the weirdest dream." Dude? I never say dude. I cupped my hand, slick with sweat and pre over my mouth, aghast at the words coming out of my mouth. Pat smiled, grabbing the shake and handing it to me. "Drink up, my dude. For real, you're gonna be in a world of hurt otherwise." The voice boomed in my head, HIS voice. But his lips hadn't moved an inch. "Pat..." I ripped the sheets off of me, sure enough, I was sporting his nasty sweatpants & drenched socks. Cupping my manhood was most definitely his grimy jockstrap. "Hey, if we were gonna have the best workout, I had to be comfortable, bro! I knew you'd get it, though." I looked at him, a tight lipped smile, as if he were proving to me he weren't talking to me. "Feels good, right! I told ya! Just think, bro. With a half of me in there, you're gonna be unstoppable." I smiled. A genuine fuckin' smile, for the first time in as long as I could remember. I watched as my hand gripped the shake, bringing it to my lips of it's own accord. Downing the vanilla shake, our eyes met, and I understood completely. Matt winked at me, ruffling my hair, and sauntered back out of the door.
I leaned back in my bed, throwing my arm behind my head. The musk drifting from my pits and feet, identical to my dad's. Smirking, I let my fingers drift down to my growing meat in its slimy pouch, knowing fully well that I was in damn fine hands.
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---
So that brings us to today, I guess! One year to the day. One full year since I finally let Dad in. 'Pat' sure did join the wrestling team as assistant coach, bringing his son in tow, eager to finish my senior year with at least a title. Thanks to him, I made varsity after the first fuckin' tryout. Can't say it was all me, all the time, but after a while it was. Honestly, it all started to blend together. Me at the wheel, him at the wheel, soon it sort of blurred and it was just me. That last semester was the best of my whole fucking life. Parties, bodybuilding, skating with the boys, fuckin' the boys... Shit, it was the time of my fuckin' life.
And after every day at school, or at least after every post-practice locker room blow job, I couldn't wait to get home and smash some Call of Duty with the old man. Mom would always come in, making comments on how we seemed as if I'd become a mini-Pat. Finishing eachother's sentences, drinking the same beer, wearing the same kind of clothes... she'd always put our sneaks outside the garage door, "they even stank the same." Little did she know just how much of the same person we really were.
I've decided to stick around the house for a year or so before maybe headed to college. I don't know, family is here, friends are here, Coach Weston should be retiring in a year or two... so there should be an opening for a new assistant coach on the wrestling team. Besides, I may have landed quite the catch in the boyfriend department, and I really want him to meet my dad, I have a feeling they'll get along just fine.
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melodic-haze · 8 months ago
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REQUEST: A reader much more powerful than Arlecchino and not doing anything about it.. except in bed.
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Mention of bloodplay at the very end but like. Very minor. Otherwise there's nothing 🤷‍♀️
☆ — NOTES: I'M NEVER TOUCHING MY DRAFTS WHEN I JUST WOKE UP EVER AGAIN I'M SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this was kinda bad dawg am sorry 😞
☆ — PARTS: Part 1, Part 2 (you are here)
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Tall AND powerful??? Ohhhh she's gonna die you KNOW I had to mix it hahaahahha powertrip goes CRAAAAZYYYYYY I have such a thing for it I'm gonna cry
Anyway ok so I would like to first state that extremely powerful chrs that don't actually do a lot w their power is like one of my top fav tropes it's so fucking funny 😭 like dawg you have the power to change the world wdym you're just gonna sit here like it's summer vacation (there's a reason why my Akivilicarnation au exists (even though I gotta work on it one way or another))
This is rather different from the stuff I usually write bc I usually write the reader as. Kinda weak for the sake of putting us all on a powerscale between the chr and our average strength as a human being omg bare with
Okay so. I do feel like she'd be a tad bit frustrated with you, at least at first. Like you could do so much more than what you're showing and yet here you are, not using your strength for important stuff? Lazy bitch, her children are much better than your example 💀 at least, that's her initial take, really
But give her a demonstration, both in a time of need and yk ☺️☺️☺️, and she'll soften up
Anyways it's just the fact that you're both tall AND powerful??? Nevermind her doing anything, she'll find herself dazedly thinking of the ways in which you can quite possibly manhandle her with such brazen 'disrespect'......and also? In the ways you two can actually COMPETE. Or well, 'compete', esp when she finds herself actually WANTING to lose for once. Crazy, how the great Knave would actually prefer to lose compared to the usual want to win against her opponent
You sighed, "I know we talked about it two days ago but do we have to? Really?"
"I would like to test you. Unless you would rather skip such pleasantries?"
"I don't think fighting until one of us surrenders counts as 'pleasantries'. Quite the opposite, actually."
While you've always known Arlecchino to constantly have a stony expression that doesn't usually change, you see the bright crosses of her eyes dim just a fraction, "So I suppose that's a no, then?"
"Well, now," you stepped back with an amused look on your face, getting into the fighting stance you're familiar with, "I didn't say that... Especially not when the reward is something I really want."
And she gains that glow once again as she brandishes her weapon with a fraction of a smile and.. something else much more heated behind those eyes of hers, "Do not get ahead of yourself, my beloved. The results have yet to be concluded."
..She speaks as if she hadn't actually wanted to lose. Laughable, really.
(You know from the way that at the end of it all, she lies underneath you as her eyes scan you with that same heated look in her eyes—lust, a sin in which The Knave hadn't thought of ever committing.. until you came along.)
The whole thing about her being able to reverse your positions? THROW THAT TO THE FUCKING WIND IN THIS SITUATION you can easily EASILY fold her without a care in the world. The fact that she KNOWS you can too gives her a rush she hasn't ever felt without that extra layer of threatened rage
Push her up against the wall, hold her up in the air, pin her down so she can't squirm away..........if you're much more powerful than her, she actually makes a show of 'trying' to escape you. Keyword: 'trying', especially when at the end of the day she resigned herself to losing already
She tells you not to hold anything back, no matter how cautious you are. She says she can handle it, that she isn't strong without reason, that she can endure whatever you give her, no matter what. Usually she kinda ends up forgetting anything she's said though, especially when you're fucking her SOOO hard she starts seeing stars behind her eyes
If your strength applies to endurance too??? Ohhh bye she's not lasting. Like okay she definitely has stamina and endurance but against you? SHE'S QUITE LITERALLY DWARFED....BYE.........
In some way, she actually likes the fact that you don't show your power other than in private with just the two of you—it makes her feel special, to know exactly what you're capable of. Dare I even say she's a tad bit possessive over every side of you? Who can say 😜
Just think that whenever she kinda stands beside you in public w her heels on, she's very very VERY easily reminded of the fact that you tower over her in height, capability AND position.......and really, in comparison to what everyone else may think? Arlecchino wouldn't have it any other way 🫶
....oh side note, just think about how rough you can go, biting each other to the point where you draw blood. Sorry I had to get that final bit out ANYWAY
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago
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Treat You 3
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)
Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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"You're useless!" Your dad slather's spit on your face as he holds himself over you, penning you in on your bed, "fucking idiot!"
You whimper as he growls and huffs his tobacco-tinged breath in your face. You wrinkle your nose and bat your lashes as tears prickle along the brims of your eyes. You shudder as he shoves himself off of you, snarling as he heaves his weight off the mattress. Another rude awakening, though for what you don't know.
"I'm sorry, da-" You begin as you sit up, only to have him spin and crack his knuckles across your cheek. You fall back and cradles your skull as it vibrates. "Ow, dad, what did I do?"
"Where the fuck are my smokes?!" He hisses.
"I dunno, I dunno," you sit up, holding out an arm to shield yourself, "you know I wouldn't touch them."
"I know you're a sneaky fucking bitch," he barks and goes to your dress, shaking it as he tears open the drawer. He scoops out the contents and throws them so the fabric scatters over the floor.
"I didn't touch them," you sniffle.
"Stop fucking lying!" He blusters as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the front of your tee shirt, "look at you, lazy piece of shit, hiding in your room all day, doing what?!"
"Dad," you murmur.
"Bitch!" He shoves you back and you once more fall flat, biting your own tongue.
He surges around the room and there's a thunderous crash as he swipes your desk clear of its contents. You sit up and watch, helpless as he rips like a tornado through the space. He hollers and hurls until he's out of breath. He leaves you with a slam of the door. A promise in the shake of the frame. If he sees you again, it will only get worse.
You get up and switch your pajama bottoms for jeans. You retrieve the clunky laptop from the floor and tuck it into your bag. It's the only thing of value you have. It's how you make your living, typing away captions and sending the words in for pennies. You swipe up your book and the small change purse with not much in it.
You listen before you emerge from your room. You creep down and take your denim jacket and sneakers from the entryway, tiptoeing out and putting them on in the hallway. You stand straight and touch your throbbing cheek. You must look a mess. It doesn't matter, you just need to get out of there.
You get out to the street and find a bench just around the corner, sitting to think of where to go. You need to get the next project done. Tonight's the deadline to get a few extra dollars on the next deposit. You need wifi. Usually you can leech off the neighbours' but there's no way you're staying in the apartment with your father like that.
The library isn't an option. You can't even access the wifi without an account and you have fines since your father destroyed several borrowed books last month. Besides, it's too far out of the way and you have no bus fare. Maybe...
Is it worth it? You don't know if you have any change. You sift through your bag and open your change purse. A couple of quarters; seventy-five cents. Hmm, how much is a cookie? Just one of the small ones?
All you know is the cafe has wifi. You'll test your luck and see how long they put up with you. You head off, disappearing into the urban ebb and flow, happy to drown in it and forget the morning.
🍵
The cafe is busy enough for you to sneak in with the rush. You find a seat in the corner and set up there, hoping you can fade into the background as usual. You glance over at the menu, there's nothing you can afford there. You sigh as you slip the heavy laptop out of your crochet bag.
You open it and hit the power button. Nothing happens. You lean in and try again. You notice how the frame of the screen is split at the seam. Oh no. The thing's taken a beating over the years but it's usually fine. He's done it now. It's broken.
That's it. That's the only thing you got and it's just as garbage as everything else in your life. You hang your head, holding it in your hands as you stare at the table. You're numb, to hollow to feel anything. You should cry but you can't.
Your vision blurs as you sit there, frozen. What do you do? What can you do? You are totally screwed.
You don't know how long you stay like that. The world skews around you until suddenly it centers on a gentle tap on your shoulder. You pop your head up, nearly tipping the chair as you look up at the barista. It's the same one as last time. Peter, you think he said.
"Excuse me--" He begins but he gapes and stares at you.
"I'm sorry, I... I'll go," you gulp and shake your head, "I don't have money for a coffee."
You stand but he doesn't move. He's close as you reach for your laptop and he reaches to stop you from closing it.
"What happened?" He asks.
"Nothing," you lie.
"Something must've happened--"
"I must've hit it on the door when I came in," you mutter pushing until he moves his hand, snapping shut the broken screen.
"Not the computer," he says, "you?"
"What?" You frown and wince as the bruise twinges and you notice how you can see your cheek swelling from your left eye.
"Did someone hurt you?" He asks.
"Please, it doesn't matter," you turn to unhook your bag from the chair, "I'm just going to leave. I told you, I don't have any money--"
"Coffee's on the house. Or tea," he insists, "please, sit down."
"I can't."
"Why not?" He asks.
You cringe and stop. You turn to face him, looking down at his warm brown eyes, "why are you bugging me?"
"Am I?" His forehead ripples, "I wasn't meaning to."
You squeeze your lips together and a pang of guilt tweaks in your chest. You hang your head, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to talk back."
"Look, seems like you've had a rough morning. If you stay, I promise I won't bug you. I'll just bring you some tea and let you be."
You look away as your nose flares, tingling dangerously, "why would you do that?"
"Nice things always come around," he shrugs, "and they don't cost anything."
You nod and hide your face, "thanks."
"No problem, oh uh, one thing," he turns a palm out, "I didn't get your name."
You put your bag on the table as you touch the back of the chair. You eke out your name before you sit. He repeats it brightly, "alright, I'll be right back."
You stare out the window, refusing to look anywhere else. You're too embarrassed to let him see the tears in your eyes.
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zaimta · 2 years ago
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Hi i saw your requests was open and wanted to ask if you could do a fire force benimaru x fem reader bath nsfw oneshot/fic if possible with the reader being a second gen just getting back from helping company 8 with a tough mission (sorry if thats a lot)
a/n- no nsfw the most i can do is suggestive/spicy (i hope fr) but imma still write this out bc i love fire force, it's sfw tho i hope that's okay!
˗ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»
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you stretched your sore body after a long day of assisting the eighth, they needed some extra help around their derestriction. a product from their “investigation” left a ranging infernal in its wake, as a second-gen your powers came in clutch. you assisted maki with fire control, and at times you were on the front lines assisting their third gens as power support. it was a long and exhausting battle once it was over you were overjoyed and immediately collapsed to the floor to catch your breath.
the eighth's captain squatted next to you with a smile "need a hand there y/n?" he extended his hand to you which you gladly took, slowly sitting up with a slight pain in your core "thanks." you returned the smile he sent you "after this, I need along relaxing bath." he chuckled at your comment "I hear ya! hey, thanks for your help again y/n we couldn't thank you enough." you waved your hand dismissively with a smile "it's nothing really, i'm sorry beni couldn't make it though i'm glad I was able to help you guys enough though."
"dont sweat it were glad to have such powerful allies like you guys at the seventh." he nodded his head towards the matchbox "let's get you home, that bath is waiting for ya."
the car ride was a calming change compared to the battle you went through, you had a good time getting to know the members of the company you were allied with but all good things must come to an end as the matchbox pulled up to asakusa, you waved goodbye to you allies and walked to your home longing for relaxation.
the second you stepped foot into your home you were greeted by hina and hika who ran around your legs in circles "she's back! she's back! waka get your lazy ass up shes back!!" they shouted in unison with excitement, you also made a mental note to yourself to keep beni way from the twins for a while his language was starting to rub off on them.
you kneeled down and opened your arms to hug both of them, they gladly jumped into your arms with wide smiles "what were my two favorite troublemakers up to while i was gone? i hope you didn't give beni too much trouble."
hina shook her head "we were on our best behavior n/n i promise-"
"my ass." a brash voice interrupted her, at the sound of his voice the twins scattered running in different directions with impish giggles. you rolled your eyes with a grin at the sound of his voice "benimaru don't tell me the twins gave you a hard time." you teased him with a smile on your face.
"they were nothing more than a pain in my ass." you giggled at his frustration with the twins, normally they would listen to him more than anyone else you assumed they felt like messing with him a bit today "you need a break as much as i do, let's go to the hot spring i was heading there after i stopped by." you lace your fingers with his and lead him to the bathhouse so the two of you could get washed up first. he helped lather up your body with soap in comfortable silence a few moments went by before he said something "how was your mission with the eighth?"
you sighed "it took everything out of me, but i did enjoy working with them they're an interesting bunch!" you smiled.
"thats one way to put it huh." he continues to lather your body and you roll your eyes at him, in return he pinches your side. you rubbed circles on the spot he pinched unaware of how he saw you rolling your eyes if your back was facing him.
once you were cleaned off the two of you took a dip in the hot spring, you leaned against his chest while he wrapped an arm around you. you were completely content, this kind of relaxation was exactly what you were craving. while soaking in the hot spring you found yourself dosing off, you were woken up by benimaru shaking you gently "let's get you to bed y/n that mission took a lot out of you."
you silently nodded and he helped you out of the hot spring, you didn't realize how tired you were until you noticed how hard it was for you to keep your eyes open, your head was bobbing all over the place as you tried your hardest to keep your head up. he walked you to your room and laid down with you, as soon as your head hit the pillow you were out like a light immediately.
he smiled softly at the sight of you sleeping sound in his arms "goodnight y/n."
as you walked to back to your home after the eight gave you a ride to akakusa, you couldn't help but long for a bath. after a long day it was just what you needed.
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kokomyass · 1 year ago
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Megumi Fushiguro ☆ Overwork
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Megumi x Fem!Reader
Genre: 🥀/☁️
Word Count: 2673
Trigger warnings ⚠️: a bit of swearing, themes of overworking to the point it is damaging. depression, some gore and violence.
synopsis: in which, you begin to overwork, hope to repay megumi for all the times he's saved you, but things don't turn out good...
hey ya'll!! this is a request from the sweetest person alive who dm me just to say my Megumi content was good so love you lots @bqvs !! 💜💜🎵🎵
anyways I hope you enjoy!! mwah!
also I haven't edited cause im a lazy bum :P
Second Person POV
All your life, you had felt lesser than everyone else. No matter what you did you would feel like you weren't good enough for anyone.
However, instead of being the type of person to sit around and wait for something to magically happen, you would work towards what you wanted, even if it meant losing sleep and your health being at an all time low.
Obviously things did not change when you joined Jujutsu Tech…yes, there were way less students which helped, but the students were also exceptionally strong, you felt like a puny little shrimp compared to them. Especially Megumi.
When you first joined you were really laid back, you really got along with Megumi, Yuji and Nobara but of course you had to mess up on your first mission together.
Which resulted in you being saved by Megumi and it seems being saved by Megumi was a common occurrence (by common occurrence you mean every mission)
Of course, you ended up falling hard for Megumi after all the times he acted as your Knight in shining armour along with his redeeming qualities. You also envied him and wanted to be as strong as he was and make him acknowledge you and maybe even love you…
As much as you liked Megumi, you were getting more depressed each day. You were completely and utterly useless compared to him. It seemed that Gojo also noticed you struggling a bit more than the others…so he began pairing you with stronger sorcerers to protect you and even then you would be pretty useless there too.
So in the end, not only are you spending less time with Megumi, but also being basically useless on all your missions.
No matter how hard you worked, you wouldn't improve. No one even notice the amount of effort you were putting in.
Usually you would hang out with all the students, especially Megumi, you were used to putting a facade on. Pretending that you weren't depressed and low…but even masking that was becoming difficult.
You had lost weight from not eating properly, you were always tired, you had lost your usual energy and you were extremely slow and sluggish, which further impacted your performance in missions.
You had been sent on a mission by Gojo to defeat a curse with Nanami. Yet another mission with an adult…
"Y/N, you think you will be alright on this one?" Gojo asked seemingly noticing something was wrong too.
You sighed, but immediately tried to put up a fake smile. In all honesty last night you were training so much that you didn't get any sleep and had to drink about 5 cups of coffee to keep you awake.
"Yep! When will I be able to go on a mission with Megumi again…"
You missed spending time with Megumi incredibly.
"Soon! Anyways off you guys go!" Gojo waved you off as you and Nanami began your trip.
You had been on many missions with Nanami (mainly due to protection reasons) so he knew you well, which also meant he knew something was wrong.
"Y/N, are you well and able to do this mission?" you were walking behind Nanami dragging your feet from tiredness as his question made you perk up slightly.
"I'm fine! I'm actually feeling much better I think I'll be more useful today!" you laughed.
That was all a lie. You felt like shit. But, knowing Nanami, if he knew that he wouldn't let you try at all.
When you found the curse and began fighting it, your tiredness made you weak and slow. You were barely dodging the attacks. At some points, you would shut your eyes and they wouldn't open again.
"Y/N! Fall back! Stop fighting! You will get hurt!"
Nanami's warnings went over your head as you went in for another attack. You felt a sharp pain in your side. You looked down to see your side stabbed and blood spreading through your clothes. Your breathing hitched as you fell to the ground with a thud, everything going black around you.
All in all, Nanami defeated the curse and you were just another failure.
When you both made it back to Jujutsu Tech. You had been treated by Ieiri (who had grown accustomed to seeing you) and you were resting in the infirmary.
Megumi POV
I know something is wrong with Y/N.
The day she joined I felt an unusual attraction to her. The way she smiles regardless of the situation and the kindness she shows to everyone around her…
Y/N is the closest anyone has gotten to me and I do have feelings for her as much as I want to deny it.
However, I've seen her health plummeting, she sleeps in class sometimes, constant injuries after missions…something wasn't right and I knew it even if no one else did.
One night, I heard constant banging noises and when getting up to find out what it was I saw Y/N, punching her punching bag like there was no tomorrow.
Her knuckles were bleeding, each hit she gave her legs quivered from tiredness, her heavy breathing sounded as if she was having a heart attack. My heart clenched to see her in this state.
Why is she working herself to this extent? Why is she doing harm to herself? That was when I truly knew something was wrong.
After the mission she went on with Nanami I decided to go and speak to Nanami myself to find out what he thinks, but to my suprise he approached me first.
"Megumi, I have been looking for you. Have you seen Y/N yet?"
"No? Why?"
Nanami sighed as if he was struggling to say something.
"She sustained an injury when we went on our mission, she got stabbed in the side. But her condition is stable and Shoko has treated her."
My eyes widened as a lump formed in my throat. How could she be so reckless? Before I could run off, Nanami stopped me.
"Megumi, please find out what us wrong with Y/N because I fear next time the injury she sustains might not be so treatable…"
I nodded, I agreed with Nanami. I ran as fast as I could to the infirmary. Whatever she was doing was putting her life in jeopardy….
Second Person POV
"Megumi is never going to like me…" you mumbled looking down as suddenly the same person runs in.
"Y/N! Are you okay?! What happened!" Megumi came in shouting. He look horrified as if you had died.
Even though it shouldn't have, your heart fluttered at the thought of Megumi worried about you.
He placed his hands on the sides of your arms making sure not to be to aggressive. You smiled softly at him as much as you could despite the sharp pain in your side.
"I'm okay, I just got caught in an attack but Ieiri said I'll be fine!" you giggled and placed a hand on Megumi's head, ruffling his hair as he sat down on the chair next to the bed sighing.
"Well, next time be more careful because if your not something bad will happen, okay?" Megumi placed his hand on yours making you blush slightly.
"I'll be fine, don't worry, I'll be stronger soon too!" you lifted up your arm and flexed as a joke as Megumi smiled slightly, still looking perturbed.
"Y/N, we need to ta-"
Before Megumi could finish his sentence Nobara and Yuji burst in dramatically.
"Y/N!!!!! What happened!!" Yuji said as Nobara was checking every inch of your face to make sure you were okay.
"I'm fine, just a bit tired…" you all talked about random stuff as Megumi stayed silent and distant.
Truth was, you were very very tired and you hadn't fully recovered but you needed to start working again if you wanted to catch up to Megumi and be the girl he wants, and just like that the evening arrived and you were sneaking out to go and train.
You practiced with your jaw clenched the whole time to reduce the pain you felt in your side everytime you moved, but it was worth it. All for Megumi, and to be able to protect him like he has done to you.
Time Skip
It was morning and you were walking at snails pace to find Gojo to ask if you could go on a mission with Megumi.
You made the best poker face you could to hide the pain lingering in every step.
"Gojo! Please can I go on a mission with Megumi." you said smiling as much as you could, griping your bruised and wounded knuckles together to beg him.
"I'm sorry Y/N, but you got injured and until you feel okay I can't send you out…" Gojo said as you immediately came up with a response.
"Gojo sensei, please believe me I feel much better it wasnt a bad injury I've had worse, I promise!" you we practically on the floor but eventually he sighed and said you could go on a mission to fight a 1st grade curse with Megumi.
Despite the pain, you smile a real genuine smile for the first time in a while at the thought of being alone with Megumi and spending time together.
Time Skip!
"Y/N, why are you here? You got injured. Stop over working yourself."
This isn't the way you thought spending time together would go.
Megumi had been telling you off the whole time you walked to your destination as you tried your best to explain that you were fine (which you were not)
"Megumi, I'm fine, I'm just tired."
"You always say that. Do you not sleep?"
Your worst fear was happening. Megumi was becoming suspicious and instead of being honest all you could do is get mad.
"I do…why do you keep asking questions?"
"Because whatever your doing needs to stop….MOVE!"
Before Megumi could finish his sentence the sharp arm of the curse you were meant to fight came between you two nearly stabbing you before Megumi pushed you out of the way.
You tried getting up but your previous injury hindered you from doing that.
"Stay back Y/N! You'll only distract me…" your heart shattered at his words as tears pricked your eyes and you scowled.
"I'm not a distraction, just watch!"
"Y/N! No watch out!"
Before you could even realise what was happening, a large tree branch pierced your stomach as you stared at Megumi with your eyes wide before looking at the branch stuck in you.
Oh how much you regretted everything. You wish you had listened to Megumi. You wish you listen to Nanami. You wish you weren't even born.
You stared into the sky as you looked down at the large tree branch that had gotten stuck in you.
Blood started pooling from your mouth as you recounted all the times you wished you had lived your life more.
You wish you could confess your love to Megumi and get married and have 3 beautiful kids…a smile graced your lips at the thought.
"Well, I think this may be it…"
Everytime you blinked, it felt as if 10 minutes when by.
You heard Megumi shout at you begging you to stay awake as he defeated the curse. You felt him cradle you in his shaking and bloody arms.
"Y/N, just wait someone is coming to get us. Hang in there." You smiled and reached for Megumi's cheek. Even though your vision was blurred you could feel the tear drop from his eyes.
"Please don't cry…" you smiled as you hand started to go limp and you couldn't stay awake any longer.
Time Skip!
You groaned in pain as you awoke to a bright light. You body ached at any slight movement and as your eyes adjusted to the light you realised what had happened and you sat up looking down at your stomach.
You sighed, thankful to still be alive.
Unbeknownst to you, Megumi was sat down next to you, asleep with his arms crossed, under his eyes had a tint of red, most likely from crying.
You put your hands through his hair combing your fingers through it, smiling at the sight of him asleep.
He stirred awake and you removed your hands from his hair. When he awoke he looked shocked to see you awake. He immediately hugged you.
"I thought I lost you…" you could tell he was being careful making sure not to hurt you as your rubbed his back before pulling away.
"I'm not gone quite yet!" you laughed as Megumi gripped his trousers, clenching his fists.
"Y/N, this isn't funny. You nearly died." Megumi looked down mumbling as your smile dropped yet again to see Megumi scolding you.
You placed a hand on his to comfort him, "Megs, look I'm fine and it wasnt even that ba-" Before you could finish he flung his hand away.
"Wasn't that bad?! Don't be stupid…you nearly died! You think I don't see you every night training until your whe body gives out? Or the amount of weight you lost or even the stumbling in your walk from lack of sleep?"
You gasped and squinted at him.
"Were you spying on me, Megumi? So what if I want to train? I'm only trying to better myself, why won't you support me?!"
"I'm not supporting you? Y/N I have always supported you through thick and thin but what could possibly be making you want to work so hard that you get yourself killed?! Tell me, please enlighten me!"
Megumi was stood up at this point and you could see people through the door window but you didn't care. You were hurt.
"You, Megs, it's you! I feel like a useless person who can't do anything right. Every mission we have ever been on you have had to save me and I want to be as strong as you. So forgive me for putting in some effort!" you shouted at him with tears streaming down your face and your voice cracking.
"I love you the way you are Y/N! I have never once looked at you as if you are useless. I think you are funny, smart, cute and the kindest soul alive! Why would I want you to change? You are working youself to death, that's the least I want! I love you!"
Everything was silent as Megumi dropped to his seat cheeks flushed from his angry confession as you stared at him teary eyed.
"You…you love me?" you asked genuinely shocked he could love someone as weak as you.
"Yes Y/N…I have ever since I met you. I never hated you just please stop hurting yourself like this-"
Before Megumi could finish his sentence, you pressed your lips on his. You pressed your palm onto his cheek as his thumb whined away your tears.
You pulled apart, out of breath as you both had a faint blush on your cheeks.
"I love you too Megs." you pressed your body into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you softly.
"Y/N…I will never ever hesitate to save you and I would do it over and over for you."
You smiled and inhaled his scent. A sense of relief washing over you. Something told you that from now on life would be much easier to live…
A lil bonus:
You had recovered and you were at a dessert shop with Megumi for a cute little date.
"Would you save me if I was like…a worm?" you giggled taking a bite of ice cream.
"Well I suppose, I would try to turn you into a human…so yes?"
"You don't sound to sure Megs…I'm feeling quite unconvinced…"
Megumi sighed putting his spoon down.
"I would save you and give your worm body a massive kiss. Happy?"
"Perfect answer!!" you laughed kissing him on the cheek as he just smiled lightly.
i hope you all enjoyed that especially my girly that I wrote it for, I hope you loved it 💜💜🩷🩷
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dr-spectre · 4 months ago
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while i originally didn't think much about s2's story
after seeing your posts about hypno callie i am 100% with ya
fact that it gets misinterpreted so much is agh. painful
Im glad that I was able to inspire you to change your mind!!! I used to not think much of Splatoon 2's story, too, until the autism in my brain whispered, "Callie Cuttlefish...."
(I'm about to get ranty in this post, so get ready.... if you wanna move along and don't wanna see someone get upset over a squid woman then by all means do so!)
I think the main reasons as to why the story of Splatoon 2 gets misinterpreted a lot is because in media circles, people will use the words "brainwashing" and "hypnosis" interchangeably and they genuinely don't know what hypnosis is actually like. Nintendo and the Splatoon devs probably don't know either. Like I don't think in Splatoon 2's rushed development cycle they bothered to look up the definition of hypnosis and they just made up the Hypnoshades to make Callie "evil" in a quick and easy way because "ooooo hypnosis is mind control/brainwashing ooo" WHICH IS FALSE!!!! VERY VERY FALSE!!!!!
Splatoon 2 was most likely rushed and it impacted Callie's storyline. You can clearly see what kind of story Splatoon 2 was going for from the concept art and Squid Sisters Stories prequel series. The tale of two cousins drifting apart and Callie growing resentment in her heart....
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While we SORTA got that in the final game, Callie's arc got muffled due to a lack of understanding of what hypnosis actually is and media out of Splatoon continuing to use "brainwashing" as a cheap and lazy way to explain things which most likely had a strong influence in Splatoon 2's development, despite a lot of evidence proving that's not what happened to Callie... and there's not much we can do about it... ugh.
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They also hid a lot of important story details behind optional content and social media posts. The sunken scrolls explaining Callie's growing mental issues, the relationship chart which disproves that Callie was kidnapped, etc, etc....
Also people tend to take Marie's perspective very objectively because we follow her as Agent 4. So when she says that Callie was "squidnapped," people believe it. When Marie says Callie was "brainwashed" in the rematch fight, people believe it. Including inkipedia and people who analyse splatoon.... the people who seek out objective information take the overthinking and worried Marie with a lack of knowledge as the well of truth.
Slight tangent but, you know what's kinda funny to me? Inkipedia wants to be very objective on Splatoon yeah? Well on Callie's main page it says, "Callie went to the octarians willingly," yet another parts of the site, it says, "she was kidnapped." Hmm... and of course, them flip-flopping the words "hypnosis" and "brainwashing" despite those words being OBJECTIVELY TWO SEPARATE THINGS THAT CANNOT BE USED INTERCHANGEABLY!!! But they use brainwashing more because Nintendo NoA used it.... oh well, tangent aside...
That's why so many people fuck up and you know what? I don't REALLYYYY blame the common fan over this. I dont! It would be unfair of me to get mad at someone who doesn't know any better because Splatoon 2 did an AWFUL job at properly fleshing out Callie!!!! When people hear what I have to say and either agree or respectfully disagree but still get my points, i get happy, and im glad more people are looking into Callie in a different light! She was treated like TRASHHHH for 7 fucking years!!!
Im only mad at certain parts of a certain wiki, and people who go over the timeline and make 5 hour videos and claim that Callie was KIDNAPPED DESPITE THERE BEING A FREELY AVAILABLE FUCKING RELATIONSHIP CHART THAT LITERALLY DISPROVES IT!!! BUT NO!!! YOU JUST HADDDDD TO READ A SINGLE INKIPEDIA ARTCLE AND YOU DIDNT EVEN BOTHER TO LOOK ANYWHERE ELSE!!!!! Putting in so much effort yet these loud voices in the community drop the fucking ball on Callie because she's silly.... ugh...
If I see another person in 2024 that says that Callie was kidnapped.... I swear to FUCKINGGGGGG god bro....
WHY DO NINTENDO PUSH THAT SHIT THEMSELVES?!?!? WHY DO THEY SAY CALLIE WAS KIDNAPPED?!?! WHY DO YOU WANT THE OCTARIANS TO BE SO FUCKING EVIL AND UNREDEEMABLE?!?!?! YOU GUYS MADE OCTO EXPANSION FOR FUCK SAKE!!! ITS SO ANNOYING!!! IM STILL NOT OVER THIS!!
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UGHHHH!!!! When will it end.... I'm gonna keep repeating this stuff until I DIE it seems!!!
I dont wanna seem like I'm above anyone btw. I dont want to be like that. I'm just... really autistic about this sort of shit and I get very very picky about people's word choices and stuff when it comes to this.
I just want a character I love to be treated better... okay? That's all... it is getting better which I'm VERY happy about but... the loudest voices in the community, the people who analyse stuff and make timeline videos and analytical videos, still say the same bullshit since 2017 and I'm getting tired....
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notf1obsessed · 5 months ago
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a little flirting hurt no one (Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz)
Carlos is hopelessly in love with Lando, but isn't sure how to break it to him. That is until Charles comes up with a plan, to make Lando jealous. Fake dating. But what they don't expect is for their fake relationship to turn real.
Chapter 19: Pretty when you cry
side a/n: I was meant to release this way earlier sorry abt that.
A/N: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD (for now). so super super sorry about all that, a shit ton happened in this past month which kinda prevented me from updating (and also my laziness). I'm on vacation rn but it won't be long and only about 2 weeks. I'll hopefully get back into my habit of posting every 2 weeks if all goes well. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! (It's pretty short just to move things along but I promise next one will be longer)
Don't say you need me when,
You leave and leave again,
I'm stronger than all my men,
Except for you,
- Pretty when you cry - Lana Del Rey
________________________________________________
When Charles awoke that morning, he found a weight holding his waist down, and an extra leg sprawled over his. Turning his head, he was reminded of the embarrassing scene (in his opinion at least) that had unfolded the night prior. Flustering, Charles quickly rolled away from Carlos's grasp, thankful to the fact Carlos hadn't woken up.
Sitting up, the Monegasque realized there was no escaping this, he was in the middle of the sea for gods sake. So doing what any rational person would do, he got up, brushed his teeth, and plopped back onto the couch phone in hand. His finger mindlessly scrolled through the endless masses of content, passing the time until Carlos woke up and they could go get breakfast.
Much like Charles, Oscar also happened to be awake; barely getting any sleep that night. The scene in the bathroom kept replaying in his head, guilt crippling over him, as if he was the one who had crashed his lips onto Carlos's. Alas, he didn't want to worry Lando, so he kept his doll face on, not a challenging task for him considering he's had to do it many times before in media.
Finally, the Spaniard eyes fluttered open, rubbing circles at them as he yawned.
"Good morning," he said as he got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom.
"Good morning to you too," Charles tried to repeat with the least amount of anxiety in his voice, clearly failing as he cringed at the way he said it.
Unlike Charles, Carlos didn't seem to have an ounce of worry or care in the world, as if cuddling your teammate was the most normal everyday thing to do.
"Are you okay?" The Spaniard asked after brushing his teeth, "after what happened last night."
"Yes, yes perfectly fine you don't have to worry," Charles stated in panic, embarrassment filling him.
"Well you can always talk to me Charles, I'm your teammate and also your friend."
The reassurance made Charles feel a little less flustered and a little warmer, knowing that he could trust and count on somebody was a nice feeling to have.
"Now cmon we need to get to breakfast," he added, grabbing a set of clothes and retreating back into the bathroom to change, "I've already texted Lando we'll be down in 20."
After taking turns changing, the two drivers made their way downstairs and to the restaurant entrance, which to their surprise, was relatively empty.
"There you are!" Lando stated joyfully, "we've been waiting for you two!"
Laughing, Carlos playfully snapped in return, "I said we'd be down here in 20, so impatient."
As they took their seats, Charles couldn't help but notice the tired expression on Oscar's face, dark bags beneath his eyes that barely seemed to open. He's seen this sate before, many times, in himself.
There was something up with Oscar.
Although he knew there was something worrying Oscar , he decided not to approach the subject around a group of people, especially when he knew the Australian didn't trust him enough.
Lando chewed at the plate of hash browns and eggs he had brought, with Carlos and Charles opting for pancakes and eggs.
Oscar however, barely had any food on his plate, to which Charles was quick to notice.
This was more serious than he thought.
"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, be back in a sec," said the Australian after swirling his food around his plate.
After he had made his way to the bathroom, Charles decided to interfere.
"Me too," he added, knowing for a fact the Aussie wasn't going to the bathroom for the right reasons, let alone any reason. He needed to figure what was wrong before it escalated any further.
Making his way through the restaurant and to the bathroom, he was weary to not startle the younger one, after all he needed to make sure Oscar could trust him.
The Aussie was stood facing the mirror, hands on sink and lost in thought.
"Hey mate," the Monegasque said as he approached the spot next to the other one. He seemed to snap out of thought at the sound of Charles, yet he gave no reply.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he almost immediately replied, voice full of nervousness and doubt.
"I know something's wrong, you can't keep lying to yourself and me," Charles stated, feeling worry for the boy as if he was his own son.
Knowing there was no escaping this, the other let out a sigh, though he wasn't going to just blurt out the full truth.
"I'm just...feeling a lot of weight on my shoulders recently, like this guilt that doesn't belong to me is still burdening me."
"Do you know what it is?" Charles pushed, wanting to get the answer out of him.
Although it was clear he pushed too far as the younger seemed to tense up and divert his gaze.
Knowing he had crossed a boundary, there was no getting more answers today, he would have to earn his further trust.
"Well if you ever want to talk about it, I'm always here," the Monegasque stated as his final words, stepping away from the marble sink top and towards the exit, "Cya at the table, if you still feel like eating."
The Aussie nodded his head as a salutation, still not looking him in the eye.
While he still didn't feel comfortable telling Charles, it was nice to know someone he could count on .
It was nice to know someone else who cared about him.
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xoxoemynn · 4 months ago
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omg you watched kevin can f**k himself! I was obsessed with that show when it was airing, definitely due for a rewatch. what did you think? the breaking of the sitcom with allison and kevin in the last episode has stuck with me since I saw it almost 2 years ago
YEAH IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. I've wanted to watch it for years but was too lazy to figure out how to and now it's on Netflix so there's that issue sorted!
I wanted to take my time watching and ended up binging it because I could.not.stop. so I know I missed things and I want to go back and rewatch, but I also want to let it simmer a minute.
Going to put some incoherent ramblings behind a cut just to be safe for spoilers (and yes I know it's been years but I know a lot of people are just hearing about it for the first time now that it's on Netflix).
The last 15 mins of the show HAUNT me. I had a feeling that was coming but actually SEEING it was terrifying. We all KNEW this was Kevin, we all KNEW the sitcom filter was obscuring how abusive his behavior was, but when we actually see him the way he REALLY is and how everything about him changes, it's just HORRIFYING. And it puts everything we just watched into a new perspective because the way he corners her, his tone when he asks her what she said to Molly, when he starts listing off things that happened in the show that even knowing all along that he was a narcissistic, abusive asshole you still might be tempted to think "oh, maybe he's just clueless to the fact he's being awful" and you realize no, he was AWARE and he knew exACTLY what he was doing to control Allison and keep her down...literally I cannot get that scene out of my head.
And then looking back on the series as a whole...
Just how JARRING the contrast was between the sitcom world and the real world? And how it faded away so slowly you almost don't even notice it at first until you get closer to the end of the series and you're mostly in the real world? How the sitcom filter obscures the bandages Allison wears. How dingy the house looks when it fades. How the women's appearances change, looking cute and put together in the sitcom world but in the real world we see Allison's roots are showing and her clothing is in worse condition and Patty's hair looks less TV ready despite being a stylist. How we start to see all the characters differently once Kevin begins to lose his grip on them. How we never actually see Pete in the real world?!
One thing the show does really well, and a reason why I'm so eager to rewatch it, is not outright revealing everything that's happening. Allison wears long sleeves for most of the show; when we see her in a hospital gown there are bruises on her arm that are never commented on. We'd never had any reason to suspect Kevin's abuse was physical, but especially after seeing the finale, I think it's fair to believe that. And then you look back on all the other times Kevin "accidentally" hurt Allison, like the time he slams the door into her face and we see her simply cover it up with makeup... yeah.
Just all the LAYERS to the show. Analyzing it from the lens of how sitcoms treat women, the wives in particular, who are shown as humorless, nagging shrews who are just expected to put up with their husbands who act like children and are engaging in all kinds of antics to the delight of a laugh track that would be horrifying in real life. (And the fact they brought in the actress whose character was killed off in between seasons of Kevin Can Wait and then barely spoken of again was a BRILLIANT bit of meta commentary.)
But then also what it's like to be in an abusive relationship with a narcissistic, charismatic alcoholic, and how isolating and desperate it can feel when nobody sees what you see, nobody understands what you're experiencing, because everyone else is content to live in this world where he's the goofy life of the party. And at the beginning you may be going "okay, girl, just LEAVE," but then as you learn more and more about just how controlling Kevin is, and what he's capable of, and also Allison's own childhood, you start to see why she was SO desperate she'd go so far as to fake her own death because she thinks it's the only way she can ever escape him.
It's just so. good. And intense. I wish they had gotten one more season because while the ending was brilliant, I felt like some parts in S2 were a bit rushed, particularly with Neil, but it was just SUCH compelling TV and I cannot get it out of my head.
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darkbluekies · 2 years ago
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Jerry asks #1
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Next one
Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3 Warnings: yandere
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Ok I must know how would jerry react if her s/o got a cat name tom so when the day comes her s/o just goes tom, jerry get over here
She'd want to smack you in the back of the neck. She has had enough of your 'funny pranks'.
"You think you're really funny, don't you?" she'd mutter with her arms crossed. "Such a clever litte thing, aren't you? Rename the cat or get rid of it. As long as you look at me as a joke, baby, I will treat you like one. Deal?"
If you laughed, you'd get the sternest gaze right back at you.
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just read cat & mouse and wow I’m officially a Jerry simp
Good, me too >:)
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In the Silas V Jerry debate it's Jerry 1000000% I love a hot murderous woman! Will we see more of her?
Hahahah same, jerry is the best<3333 there will 100% be more with Jerry!!
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I wonder… what would happen if Jerry ever became the boss? Is Silas her boss or are they from two different mafias?
The only reason why Jerry isn't the boss is because if she was, she'd have so much more work to do. She's lazy and wants to drink. But if she was the boss, she'd get her gang in so much trouble because she's not having a consequense thinking. She'll do what she wants and deal with the trouble later.
I haven't specified if Silas is her boss, that's up for you to interpret ;)
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I love Jerry so much! I was actually scrolling through some reels on YouTube and come across a "Sigma Girl" reel by CRAZY GREAPA that for some reason reminded me so much of how I imagine Jerry in my head when I read your writing. Specifically this one: https://youtu.be/C-G_pHgQE3g I thought I'd share it with you just cause lol
omg yes i've seen her!!! i really like her lmao. She's a bit to the image I see her as too!!
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Okay so we see jerry with the talkative and affectionate reader but what about everyone else? Like how would they react when reader goes from super affectionate to absolutely 0% snuggle
She'll be confused about your sudden change, but will try to give you what you need. If you suddenly want her gone, she'll move away but don't you worry, she will be back soon. She hasn't had enough and if you think that you can control Jerry then you're wrong.
"I left you alone for ten minutes. Ten minutes are a lot of time. Open your arms now so I can hug you, i'm not asking."
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Sorry to bother but in the ask where reader becomes quiet and unaffectionate you mentioned jerry being wrong, do you mean as in she knows she was wrong to treat reader in that way?
asks it's referring to
Yes, she feels bad about it, but won't admit it. She'll try to shift the blame to you, saying that "You shouldn't have annoyed me" and "it's not my fault I snapped" but deep inside she knows she shouldn't ever shout at you. She loves to hear you talk about everything and nothing at the same time. She has too much of an ego to apologize.
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I need more jerry content 😭😭Imagine when jerry kidnaps her s/o the s/o decided to be smart and play along with her for a couple of years. The trust is built and yada yada yada. And then one day jerry comes home and see that s/o is gone. At first she wouldn’t think anything of it bc she has trust in them but then realizes (pretty quickly) that they aren’t coming back…Also, Jerry s/o and Silas s/o play dates?
Poor Jerry. She doesn't get stressed-stressed often, but when she realises that you're actually gone, she'll be scared. But don't worry, she won't waste time, she'll go out look for you.
and yes, playdates for days.
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I want jerry to suffocate me😁😁
same :,)
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illegalvampire · 2 months ago
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Hiii! Welcome to my blog! :3
Aka the only social media I actively use, lol. Here, I post a variety of things! It's mostly Detroit: Become Human (DBH) related things, memes/funny text posts, politics, and my original works (art, fanfic, etc.), however this blog is mostly just a catch-all for things I'm interested in and/or enjoy! :)
Here's a little bit about me:
✦ My name's Aves! :D
✦ I use she/they/he pronouns! You can call me what you like, as long as you call me 🤙😉
✦ Genderqueer, bisexual, gay mess 🏳️‍🌈✨️
✦ American 🇺🇲, more specifically Iowan 🌽
✦ University student, pursuing a Creative Writing degree :) 🎓
✦ Avid writer! I hope to someday be able to publish my own novel :) 📚
✦ Artist, mostly traditional and dabbling in digital art 🎨
✦ Silly goose 🎉🪿
✦ Self-proclaimed cool person 😎
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⚠️Blog Rules⚠️:
✦ Be nice! Hate of any form will not be tolerated.
✦ Fandom discourse is highly frowned upon here. Take your arguments elsewhere! However, friendly, civil discussion is more than allowed if the post specifically invites it (ex. sharing a headcannon and asking others to add on to it)
✦ Homophobia, transphobia, sexism, misogyny, racism, and otherwise bigoted ideology are ABSOLUTELY NOT allowed here. This blog is a safe space for all 🏳️‍🌈🫶
✦ At LEAST 13+. I reblog stuff with violence, gore, sexual content, foul language, etc. Please keep in mind that if I feel it is necessary, I will ask you to unfollow, and in any extreme case, block.
✦ Spam like/reblog is completely fine! Go nuts!
✦ Feel free to ramble in my tags!!! I absolutely love reading what ppl who reblog leave behind. It always makes my day to read thoughtful tags on a post I made.
✦ DNIs: just don't be a dick and we'll get along just fine <3
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My Fanfic:
✦ ILLEGALVAMPIRE / VAMPYRL0SER MASTERPOST
✦ Ao3 Profile: vampyrl0ser
✦ Wattpad Profile: vampyrl0ser
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Fandoms:
💙🔓⭕️ Detroit: Become Human (main fandom, most active here!)
🕷 Spiderman: Into/Across the Spiderverse
👾 Pokémon
💤 The Edge of Sleep & Markiplier
🌲 Gravity Falls
💓 Heartstopper
👑 Arcane (League of Legends)
💚 The Sims 4
🌽 Stardew Valley
🤖 Anything with robots!!! I love robots!!!
Fav Ships:
Reed900 (Gavin Reed x RK900) [DBH]
RK1K (Connor RK800 x Markus RK200) [DBH]
Simarkus (Simon PL600 x Markus RK200) [DBH]
Allen60 (Captain Allen x RK800-60) [DBH]
Ghostflower (Gwen Stacy Ghost-Spider x Miles Morales Spider-Man) [ITSV/ATSV]
Blorbos🌟 and Fav Characters:
DBH: 🌟Connor (RK800), 🌟Nines (RK900), Gavin Reed
ITSV/ATSV: Gwen Stacy, 🌟Spiderman Noir, Miguel O'Hara
Arcane: Vi, Viktor
Stardew: 🌟Harvey, Leah
Random robots: Rozzum Unit 7134 (The Wild Robot), Eva (Wall-E), prolly more that I can't think of rn
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Tagging System:
✦ mine - anything original to me: my fics, art, text posts, shitposts, etc.
✦ my art - art I've made
✦ my fic, my fics, my writing - fanfic I've written
✦ dbh, detroit become human - self explanatory: anything relating to dbh!
✦ [character name] [media] (ex. connor dbh) - will tag most posts with the character as a focal point. Sometimes I forget/am too lazy to tag every character that appears in a fanart, fic, etc. I will (almost) always at least tag the media they're from!
✦ yeah - text posts and memes that I find funny/relatable, agree with, and/or don't have anything else to tag it with
✦ current events - anything currently happening at the time of posting/reblogging. Ranges from politics (mostly) to strange historical occurrences (ex. Oceangate... remember that???) to fandom/tumblr-wide phenomena, unless there is a specific tag for the event (ex. The Boopening)
✦ us politics - self explanatory. Political happenings in the US of A, baby! Anything I reblog skews way far left/blue/liberal. Democracy!
✦ [no tags] - I forgor lmaooo
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I will edit this post as needed for my ever-changing internet presence to reflect my ever-changing life! (Last edit: 11/28/2024)
I think that's all! Thank you for reading! Happy travels on my blog, internet friend!!!
Stay safe and drink enough water, love you <3
~Aves :)
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swanmaiden5 · 1 year ago
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Dreamscape ( i )
John Constantine x Fem!Reader
"It was hard to believe this wasn't a dream- this wasn't something your brain created to meet your soul's other half. It was real..."
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A soulmate AU where you share dreams with the warlock known as John Constantine throughout both of your lives.
Have this posted on my AO3 account, and I felt like posting on here too- with a few minor changes
Warnings for this chapter-- Mentions of John's childhood ab*se, but it's not heavy- small descriptions and talks of it.
Sunlight peeked through the curtains, coming close to hitting your face as you slowly opened your eyes. You could feel his arms wrapped around her, pressing your back against his chest. It wasn't a tight hold, but if you moved it would surely wake the man snuggling up against you.
Not that you wanted to.
You wanted him to enjoy a peaceful sleep for a change. Besides, it was early...
Wasn't it?
You needed a clock. Clock, where are you?
You looked around the motel room, your eyes lighting up with joy upon spotting your phone on the nightstand next to your side of the bed. Thank goodness your dominant hand wasn't trapped at the moment. Which meant you just might be able to get the device without waking him up! Slowly and carefully, you reached over to grab your phone.
Your fingertips barely grazed the cool metal.
Much to your frustration.
"Damn it." You swore under your breath as you struggled to reach it. Why couldn't your arms be just a bit longer? Or better yet, why couldn't your phone be a bit closer? Eventually, your fingers got a better grip on the device, a mental cheer going off in your mind.
You did it! Now to check the time-
A startled noise left you when he felt him nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His stubble once again tickling your exposed neck. You got such a surprise your grip loosened on your phone- said object making a quiet thud as it hit carpet. A shaky breath left you as he placed one or two lazy kisses along your neck, your face warming from such actions.
Funny at that. A grown woman you are, yet this man can still make your heart do funny dances while blushes race across your face and down your neck.
"Something wrong luv?"
"Hmm? Oh no, it just startled me." You confessed, adjusting yourself so you could see him. Your soulmate. You were still getting used to the fact.
There was a gentle expression on his face as he stared at you. His eyes no longer holding in that frustration and sadness you had come to know. There was a light to them now, a light that made your soul sing. "You okay?" You still couldn't help but ask, which earning a sleepy chuckle from the blonde male. "I'm alright." He assured you, kissing your forehead as he hugged you close. "Didn't mean to wake you earlier." You murmured, humming in content as he rubbed little circles on the small of your back. "You didn't." The male muttered lazily.
You hummed under your breath, it was so easy to doze off. It was safe, you knew you were safe with your soulmate. Even so...
"You feel like getting up?"
A giggle threatened to leave you as he let out a tired grumble. You took that as a no. "It's Saturday." The blonde argued. "I'm pretty sure it's Sunday." You countered. It only earned a chuckle from him. "All the more reason to stay in bed." He replied, giving your forehead another kiss. He may say otherwise, but you had a feeling he was wide awake now.
It was hard to believe this wasn't a dream- this wasn't something your brain created to meet your soul's other half. It was real... as real as you and John Constantine lived and breathed. Closing your eyes as you leaned against him, your mind drifted off. Off to the first time you met him.
Everyone had a soulmate, one could meet through the dreamscape. Both you and your soulmate were able to talk and touch within the realm of dreaming. The world created around you was all based on things you dreamt of. Sometimes they were good. Sometimes they were stuff of nightmares.
Part of the reason why having your soulmate in the dreamscape was so important. They helped pull you from the bad things.
You didn't realize how bad things were for John when you first met though.
The shared dreaming didn't start until the soulmates turned thirteen- around that time, you didn't have a lot of friends. Yes you were on friendly terms with some of the girls in your class, but you liked vastly things from them. And while they weren't cruel... there was a good distance between you and them. Half the boys in your grade at the time weren't bad. Although the other half did things that just made your blood boil with their actions.
So on the day of your thirteenth birthday, you couldn't wait to go to bed. You just knew you and your soulmate would have everything in common. Or at least liked a few of the same things.
That was how it worked, right...?
Your parents had similar taste in music, and they liked watching those old films on Friday night. Slipping under the covers of your bed that night, you soon closed your eyes... and you were off.
And it was just as amazing as you thought it would be.
Your eyes widened as you took in the scene around you. It was an exact replica of the outdoor world from your favorite show at the time. "Hello? Hello!" You frowned upon not hearing a response. After a few moments, you headed off down a pathway. Suddenly you came upon a grove of willow trees, and the sound of crying.
Crying...?
"I'm coming!" You swallowed hard as you quickened your footsteps, slowing down when you spotted the source.
The boy sitting underneath a willow tree wore pajamas that didn't match. His blonde hair was a mess, but that wasn't your main concern. Your eyes were fixated on the cigarette burn mark on his upper shoulder. And the bruises on his forearms. ".. are you okay?" You were too scared to step closer, would he even let you? You never saw a boy his age cry before... it left an uneasy feeling in your stomach.
"Go away..." His voice was weak, but you could hear the accent nonetheless.
"Just go away." He repeated, his voice a touch more firm than before.
"No-" You froze in place at the sharp glare he went you, his eyes red from crying. "I... I won't go until I know you're okay." You stated, trying to keep your voice steady as you eventually sat down. Not too close though, but just enough to make it known you weren't running off anytime soon.
He glared at you before turning away. A sharp feeling of hurt tugged at your heart, which you quickly squashed down. Something awful happened to him... he was in pain. So much pain... how could you make it go away? Pressing your lips into a thin line, your shoulders sagged as you sighed softly. You told him your name, soon talking about your likes and dislikes. Secretly hoping it helped get his mind off whatever was wrong.
"Am I talking too fast?" You eventually asked when you took notice of him again. His body slightly turned to your direction.
He didn't look you in the eye though, seemingly more interested in the fresh green grass. "... mom keeps telling me I talk too fast." You continued on when he didn't answer. Much to your dismay. It faded quickly though when the blonde soon spoke up.
"... John. My name's John." He soon told you, your eyes wide from surprise before a small smile grew. You liked the name. It reminded you of the Saint, and a famous actor your parents enjoyed seeing. "... you still have a mum?" John soon asked. Your happy feeling soon turning into something more cold... and shocked.
Did... did he loose his mom?
"... I do." You answered softly, biting your lip in worry as you weighed the question. "... what happened to your mom?" You eventually asked. John snatched up fistfuls of grass, angrily tossing them away. "She died. Dad says it was my fault."
Horror gripped at you. "But you're a kid!" You exclaimed. How could someone hurt their own mother? "She died giving birth to me." He soon explained. Your nerves calmed down... somewhat. "... you were a baby, you didn't want it to happen." You whispered, sad, sad that this was thrown at John. And angry. Angry that his father saw fit to blame him for something beyond his control. You scooted a bit closer to him, frowning in worry as he continued ripping up bits of grass.
"I hate him..." He growled out.
"Don't say that-"
"It's true! Ever since my sister left he..." John trailed off as more tears threatened to spill. His eyes growing wide when you gently hugged. It last a few seconds, before you pulled away. "I'm sorry... it's just... you looked like you needed it." You admitted. Getting a hug from your mom or dad always made you feel better. You thought it might work for John. The other teen seemed hesitant for a few moments, before he inched closer to you. And while you didn't hug him again, you were more than happy to simply sit beside him.
"..I like magic." You heard John admit after several minutes passed by. "Really?" You asked in a bit of awe. Most of the boys in your class enjoyed sports or superheroes. None of them expressed an interest in magic.
"Can... you tell me more?" You asked again, a smile appearing on your as John started explaining the magic he was always looking up in his spare time. Suffice to say, it wasn't the magic you had in mind. It sounded spooky and scary... but magic itself wasn't bad- it was bad when bad people used it. Like the villains in your current favorite shows and movies- the good guys used magic too to fight back. Well maybe not all of the good guys, but a good many of them.
John seemed a lot better too, his eyes were still red from crying of course. But the sadness from earlier seemed to be disappearing a little. "I'm going to use my magic to talk to mum." He explained. You... weren't quite sure how that could work. His mother was dead.
But magic could be very powerful- he could find a way. Surely he could! "I bet she will be very happy to hear from you." You soon replied, a startled noise leaving you when you saw the world around the two of you start to fade. "No- no wait!"
You snapped out of your past when you heard John call your name. "Knew you didn't want to get up, you were nodding off there." You flushed at the teasing tone and smirk John sent you. "I wasn't nodding off." You countered, grumbling faintly as he chuckled.
"Sure you weren't." John countered playfully. Your grumbling continued as you reluctantly slipped out of his embrace, earning a groan from him. "Come on luv." He hid under the comforter when you tossed him his clothes. "It's only...." You trailed off as you picked up your phone.
"9:37 AM." You answered, going about the room to pick up your clothes from last night. Setting them aside, you went through your bag to pull out a t-shirt in your favorite color along with some jeans.
"Too early." You heard John call out, earning a faint giggle from you. "I'll be in the shower if you need me- to talk." You were quick to throw in at the last minute. Not missing the way John pulled himself out from hiding. He sent you a smirk that was anything but innocent.
"And if I wanted to talk to you in the shower?" He asked.
You responded in kind. A glare that held no real bite to it as you entered the bathroom, promptly closing the door behind you.
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maddyxdead · 9 months ago
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Okay then, little stories from my daily life that could be related to the content I aspire to upload. The fact that so many things happen to me that could be good material, but I simply can't explain them well, and how to change situations so that they sound less “similar to reality” (I'm compulsively paranoid).
Well, let's start because at my university we have certain conflicts between classmates, by conflicts I mean that I don't get along with many people there. Don't get me wrong, I'm a good partner, but I tend to get really angry sometimes. While I was going, there is a certain colleague with whom I have a very tainted history, we don't get along well, but we tolerate each other in the same space and time. The thing is that, curiously, we ended up paired in a duo work for meaningless presentations that the teacher wouldn't let us do out of laziness, so the exams and so on depended on whether our explanation and that of our classmates was good. The atmosphere was obviously awkward, both he and I hadn't spoken much other than to exchange a few words about who would do what and when our deadline was. You could say there was nothing out of the ordinary so far, except that the way he was constantly sobbing was killing me, the way he absentmindedly struggled to wipe the wetness from his nose without wanting to draw attention to himself. Allergies. I already knew that he commonly suffered from them without knowing a specific reason (it wasn't like I could ask him too) but I had never observed them this closely. There was a point where he left the room so he could clean up the mess, although within 5 minutes he returned, the mucus had built up in his sinuses again, tickling them constantly I guess, sometimes he suppressed a few sneezes trying to avoid my attention. But damn, he had me completely. Before finishing the class his nose simply couldn't take it anymore and he succumbed to a series of muffled sneezes that at first he tried to stop (he didn't succeed) so like the good person that I am, I took a handkerchief out of my backpack and reached for it once. When he finished his show, his hoarse thanks between gasps and still repressed sneezes made me feel damn butterflies. I admit that I thought for a moment that this would be my nemesis for the lovers I had so desired, that at some point in class he would ask me for help and I could take care of him like a poor mess, but it just didn't happen. Although it did give me good stuck sneezes and sets that sounded fucking painful.
These are some of the scenarios I have with it, because yes, there are many more where I have earned a direct pass to the glory called “senseless allergies that attack out of nowhere” and some sick situations that I have seen over the years past and part of this. Well, I finished venting so, bye!
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zenkindoflove · 9 months ago
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How did you get people interested/willing to read your fics when you first started? I enjoy writing for myself but I get discouraged when no one interacts with my stuff in any way.
Aww anon I really want to hug you. 🫂 I'm sorry you're getting discouraged.
I want to answer your question with care as I think that this is a very complicated question and emotionally hard for a lot of writers. First, you are not alone in wishing for engagement and not getting it back. This happens a lot. I would argue that in fandoms as saturated as ACOTAR, which I think you must be in if you're sending anons to me, it's actually quite hard to get noticed. At least in terms of my own 20 years of experience in fandoms, the ACOTAR one is huge. My early experience writing in fandoms were for much smaller, niche fandoms. Small fandoms are a lot easier to get people interested in your stuff because there is demand but not a lot of supply. So a lot of people are just grateful for having anyone write something.
I would say that is not the case in ACOTAR as has not been the case in other large fandoms I've written in. This fandom in particular has so many factions throughout the community of what sort of flavor of fan someone is. I imagine if you find a very specific niche, then it can feel like a smaller fandom but ultimately there is just so much content being made. It's hard for people to keep up and they will find a few writers they like and stick to reading their stuff and only their stuff. Basically if you have a preference someone probably writes for that.
So, how do you get people to interact? I think the real way is to make friends. Which is harder to do than to say. But when I first started writing 20 years ago, I quickly made friends with some other fanfic writers whose stories I liked. We commented on each other's fics and through our friendship we became invested in each other's writing. And when you have friends who will hype up your work and share it, that also can help others give your stories a chance.
I do want to emphasize something though. You should keep writing for your own happiness. I know, comments and likes/kudos are like drugs. It feels so so good to have people see your work and comment. But do not think if people aren't reading or commenting it means you're doing something wrong. There are a lot of reasons people won't comment. People read stuff all the time that they genuinely enjoy and then...just move right along. It takes effort to leave a thoughtful comment and sometimes people get lazy. At the end of the day, if you get enjoyment out of writing, you should do it. It's easy to compare yourself to others. You should keep in mind if you are just starting out, some of the people you are comparing yourself too have been writing for years, maybe even decades. They have a lot of experience under their belt when it comes not only to story crafting but also what their voice is. And once you know your voice, and you feel comfortable writing from that place, I think it can bring others to see your vision too and want to read more. So never stop writing. Even if you don't share everything, write if it calls to you. The more you write, the better you get at it just like any skill.
I do understand the discouragement though. I feel it too as I am not immune to the siren call of following my AO3 stats and checking my Tumblr notes. It's natural to want acknowledgement and praise for something you put a lot of creativity and effort into.
I think one thing to keep in mind, to sort of inoculate your brain a bit from the discouraging voice, is to remember that fandom and creating fanworks is first and foremost, a community exercise. In some ways, fandom never changes, but I have noticed some differences in it since I started back in 2006. Social media and chasing views and engagement has become very engrained in our online culture in a way that didn't exist back then. And I think some of that thinking has leeched into how we see ourselves as creators. We now have this idea of a "content creator" which is sort of this demonic, capitalistic creature in our psyche that uses relatability and parasocial connection to pull us into buying things. I can see some of this creeping into fandom spaces, which I hope we can mostly resist as fandom - to me - has always been an anti-capitalist force to take back storytelling and art from the powers that be and make it something that belongs to the people.
So, that is a very long, probably too political way of saying that when you make the goal of participating in fandom to be about making friends and connections and sharing things with each other that you make because you love it rather than seeking validation and entering the mindset there is competition, it helps with the very natural instinct we have to be liked and told we are doing good. But of course we want our butt pats. I know I certainly do. But when they don't come, I do have quite a bit of time and experience that tells me that even if I'm the only person who enjoyed what I wrote, that meant it was worth writing. The sting still happens but it's easier to bounce back from it and keep going.
So anon, I don't know who you are but you are doing good! You are doing something most people never try which is writing fiction. You are channeling your creativity and it's bringing you joy. That's the most important thing!
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