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stressfreebliss · 1 year ago

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10 ways to Survive School Stress with a Strong Support System

Between heavy workloads, packed schedules, peer pressure, and big expectations, being a student can feel extremely stressful. In fact, over half of students report feeling stressed by school on a daily basis, according to the American Psychological Association. Dealing with constant school stress alone takes a major toll on mental health and wellbeing. But surrounding yourself with a strong support system makes all the difference in effectively coping. Read on for research-backed ways that friends, mentors, counselors, family, and other supports can help you stay balanced and thrive during stressful academic times.

Why Social Support Helps Ease School Stress

Humans are wired to connect. But the pressures and competitiveness of academic culture can breed disconnection and isolation. Maintaining social bonds counters the negative effects of stress in key ways: Talking through worries relieves bottled up emotions. Listening to different perspectives provides clarity. Feeling cared about fulfills the need for belonging. Being vulnerable builds intimacy which combats loneliness. Offering support yourself also boosts your own resilience. In essence, sharing the load with people who “get it” makes tough times far more manageable.

Build Your Web of Support

Surround yourself with a diverse support network by proactively cultivating connections: 1. Lean on Existing Friends Make time for trusted friends, even if only virtually or via text. Choose friends who uplift you and offer empathy without judgment. 2. Bond with Peers Who Share Your Struggles Find study buddies or join school clubs to connect over common interests. Sharing stress can help you feel less alone. 3. Confide in Understanding Parents Let parents know when you’re overwhelmed and need extra support. If parent relationships are strained, lean more on other trusted adults. 4. Seek a Mentor at School Teachers, coaches, counselors, nurses, and club leaders can be mentors. Their guidance helps you navigate school pressures. 5. Talk to Counselors Freely School counselors are trained to help you manage stress confidentially. Be open about any difficulties so they can connect you with resources. 6. Bond with Pets Caring for and snuggling pets reduces cortisol levels and provides comfort. If you can’t have a pet, spend time with friends’ pets. 7. Spend Time with Siblings Siblings share and understand your family dynamics. laughing together eases tension. 8. Make Time for Hobbies Creative outlets like art, music, and writing allow you to express yourself. Passions provide balance to academics.

Nurture Your Support Circles

Once you’ve built your support network, be proactive in cultivating those support relationships: Check in regularly, not just when you’re stressed. Listen with empathy when friends open up to you. Express appreciation for people’s support. Thank them. Honor friends’ time constraints too. Find mutual support. Offer support yourself by sending encouraging texts, funny memes, care packages, etc. If conflicts arise, communicate openly and make amends. Set boundaries around toxic relationships that drain you. Treasure the people who accept and care for the real you.

When to Seek More Social Support

Notice if your support system feels lacking. Are you mainly isolating and internalizing stress? Experiencing real social connection deficiency hampers wellbeing and coping. Consider seeking counseling or joining school groups if you have: No friends to turn to about worries Conflicted family relationships Lost motivation to see friends Difficulty opening up about problems Thoughts of self-harm or that others are better off without you You don’t have to navigate the pressures of school alone. Support is out there if you open up.

Sample Stress Management Conversation Starters

Speaking up to access social support starts with expressing vulnerability in safe relationships. Here are some conversation starters: “I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed with school and need to vent for a minute. Can we talk?” “I haven’t felt like myself lately with all this test anxiety. Have you felt that way before?” “Can I get your advice on how you managed your workload last semester?” “Would you have any time in the next few days to meet up? I could really use a friend right now.” “I’m feeling sad about falling behind in math class. Could I get a study buddy for the next exam?” Voicing your needs and asking directly for support opens pathways to feel understood and regain balance amidst school stressors.

Conclusion

School stress often incites feelings of isolation and being the only one struggling to cope. But sharing your experiences and getting support from people who “get it” transforms challenges into growth opportunities. Invest time proactively fostering relationships that allow you to feel heard and let difficult emotions out. Bond over common ground, offer empathy, give and receive care. With a web of support buoying you during inevitable school stressors, the pressures become far easier to rise above.

Frequently Asked Questions About Social Support and School Stress

How can students identify the most supportive friends? Look for friends who listen without judgment, validate your feelings, make themselves available, offer helpful perspectives, and treat you with compassion. What’s the best way for students to start a conversation when stressed? Avoid suppressing emotions. Instead, choose a trusted friend and share vulnerably how certain stressors have been making you feel. Ask to vent or get their thoughts. How much should students vent to friends about stress? Aim for balance - don't only complain, but also discuss solutions, offer support back, and enjoy positive interactions too. Close friends who won't judge are safest for venting. How can shy students connect more socially? Consider joining school clubs, talking to classmates you want to know better, scheduling digital hangouts, and practicing self-disclosure. Getting outside your comfort zone opens up connections. How can students restore strained family relationships? Be open about needing more support from parents during this stressful time. Suggest family activities to bond. Compromise during conflicts. Validate their concerns too. Read the full article

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giraffeonstrike · 2 years ago

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In gearing up for a career change, I've been considering what my passions are and I've been a little stuck. It's an odd thing to go back and think about at my age...not that we don't change a ton between 20 and 43, we absolutely do and that's a good thing, but to really sit and take a good look at what moves you is typically a thing that younger people do before they start their careers and to a degree their minds and attitudes are better suited for self reflection and exploration.

When I was a teenager ten thousand years ago, my father decided we were going to build houses with Habitat for Humanity. He liked building stuff, I also liked it, people needed houses...simple. It was about a year into that when a guy we worked with asked me if I wanted to come work with him in his shop building cabinets and furniture. People were ordering things for Christmas, it was just him and one other guy, they needed help. So I went and worked with him, he taught me a lot, and it was hard but very fun so I'm 17 and have decided this is what I want to do.

I tell my father and he's confused. A carpenter? Really? No, no...you have to go to college. He didn't come all this way for his son to do manual labor.

I remember asking him "so it's good enough for Jesus but I can't do it?" which he was silent about for a while. No good reason, it's just not what he envisioned for me and eventually I gave up. Went to college, had a variety of jobs that were fine until I ended up here in the job I have now. I've sold cars, I put my own schooling on hold for some years to put my ex wife through school when her parents cut her off, doing the highest paying thing I could do with my skillset (talking) and an unfinished degree...being shipped around the country selling software. I can't even tell you what that was like, it was so mentally taxing and I was just always going.

But I did learn something incredibly valuable, which leads me to my really drawn out point. Frequently there were language and access barriers that prevented me from being able to close deals. You can't sell English language only software (of which there are almost none now but this was long time ago) to schools with strong ESL programs. They need a Spanish option...huge roadblock in southern California, the southwest, and south Texas. We had very little for special needs schools.

There were always handouts but frequently there were no actual people or departments that dealt with the care and management of special needs students. A secretary would hand me something and then disappear. I would never get a feel of what their needs were and if I ever asked they couldn't tell me.

When I came to work at my branch, that still bothered me. What bothered me even more is that I was coming up against the same problem. We had no audiobooks, no books in braille, no bilingual staff, only English language books, no one knew sign language but me. A library should be a place where anyone can go to get the information and enrichment that they need to learn and thrive. It's better now, but lack of funding has always been an issue and we never have been able to get to where I'd like us to be.

I'm 43 years old and realizing that my real passion is accessibility. Ease of use. Making what is difficult less so in whatever way possible. There are so many apps and programs now that hit that mark, but in talking to people who would know I've found out that the human element is lacking. For better or worse we are social creatures and sometimes you just want another person there to guide you.

I will formally resign my position soon, when I can set some things in motion to ensure that my assistant, Angela, will be asked to take over for me. I love my branch, I believe in it, and she's the only one I know who loves it like I do and will make it stronger. We're the only two who know, she's asked me if I'll still do storytime and I'm just delighted that she'd keep me for such an important job.

This is going to be a big year.

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harkerriver · 1 year ago

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It was funny how far a little training went. Even though she was naturally pretty thin and lived in the woods, walking most places, learning to be a hunter had made River keenly aware in the earliest phases of her training just how poor her stamina was. Her health overall was frail and meek due to the fact that her commune didn’t eat meat and all their food was grown organically within proximity to their land. If they had a bad harvest, people got less to eat, and since all food was evenly distributed based on the family size, some days a handful of fruit or berries were considered meals. Desmond had expected her to be fast and able to use her speed in place of the strength she obviously lacked, but as he would come to learn, he was disappointed. She had barely made half the lap before she was breathless and about to faint.

Now, nowever, she kept pace with ease. Rene walked kind of fast, and while she took notice, her legs didn’t burn nor did her ankles feel like they were going to snap as she moved in step with him. Desmond would be proud. The thought made her smile a little to herself, as her trainer had quickly become someone she deeply respected in spite of all her screw ups. What he probably wouldn’t be proud of was knowing that she was sidetracked by a boy. Desmond was teaching River a great deal, and one of those things was to be wary of strangers. They were monster hunters, after all, and some monsters, she’d learned, could hide in plain sight. They may have had things that gave them away, but it took a trained eye, and she was only just learning. Still, Rene? River took a not-so-quick look at him, her lips twisting as she assessed him. He was her height, thin to the point of being frail, and all around looked like a pale and sickly Victorian child more than a man. It was impossible that he was a danger to anything more than ants he may crush under his shoes while walking.

“Uh…pffft…” River paused, walking as her raspberry lingered while she pondered. “ Reading’s okay. I listen to audiobooks sometimes when I’m doing stuff with my hands. Movies are cool too…” She shrugged. She liked movies. They were like a window into other people’s minds, but she had been sheltered all her life and suspected that she often didn’t have the same appreciation for what they were as other people. “ You can learn a lot from movies, y’know? Like, some stuff you may not figure out on your own. Yeah they’re fake and just for entertainment, but some of them really hit hard on the lessons.”

“Ah,” River nodded, listening on as she glued her eyes to the ground before her steps. Her face felt a little hot and her nerves made her blood pump faster as she felt the awkwardness retake it’s position. Topics that were broad and general like movies and TV shows were among some of the easiest things to talk about. Music too, although some people were too passionate about that and got angry at other’s opinions. School however, was new territory. Her education was stunted and severely lacking due to her upbringing, and most of the things she should have known at her age she was only just learning. It was embarrassing that big words and their meaning went right over her head and some words were read or spelled wrong when written down.

“Yeah, not much for school either,” She noted, hoping the topic would be pushed over for something else. What she got, however, was something that made her freeze. Stopping in her tracks, River made a sharp turn and gave the boy a wide-eyed look. “ What do you mean? Oh, like… Game hunting? Right…” She nodded, wincing mentally at her lack of calm. Just the word hunters made her nervous, which she really needed to work on as well as a dozen or so other social things. It was, after all, supposed to be a secret, but keeping secrets too, was on that long list of things River needed to be better at.

“Yeah, no… No heads on walls. I’m…kind of a vegetarian.” She admitted. It was half true, as eating meat was not a habit she took part in most of her life, but with her newfound freedom, she’d tried bacon and a hamburger for the experience. While they tasted pretty good, she still wasn’t sure where she stood on the matter. “ I just like… Kinda go with the flow and see where life is taking me. I’m not a ‘school’ person.” She noted with air quotes. “ My attention span isn’t the greatest and I’m not all that smart. Besides, I just kinda got my freedom and I don’t really wanna commit to something so….heavy.” She admitted, even though she understood the irony. Being a hunter was a commitment, but it was also her meal ticket out of a life she loathed. While it had it’s challenges and drawbacks, River hardly thought it compared to cramming and studying for test after test in an old stuffy building.” So like…how old are you?”

Rene made an array of faces as she spoke. He was no sooner surprised that she would exude so much confidence, and it became apparent to him that when she had such a response it was very likely that it was true. He hadn’t believed her any less before, making a simple observation of her excitement and honesty. “Mad skills.” He repeated after her, with no intent except to cement the term in his brain. A chuckle made it light and less a tease, even if it was more of a cover-up for him. It hadn’t taken long to unravel just how behind he was in current communication between those his ‘age’, and he reflected upon just how stubborn time had made him - almost as if he was resistant to the knowledge for others.

If she had been trying to conceal her reasons for training, it would’ve been hard to decipher. Rene would have to dedicate, really focus on the ellipses in her heart and how fast it was beating. It hadn’t slowed much since they met, it spiked nearly every time she spoke and more when she laughed, like every word brought forth some level of exertion in her body. He could have sat and read her responses and tried to figure out if how quick her heart rate was now was matters of a lie or her consistent body full of worry. But his self interest blinded him, and even really if she had been lying, he would have blindly kept on, still. “Yeah, me too. This one’s on me.” He laughed, still lost in his own head.

“You don’t have anything you need to prove to me, I’ve seen your cart I think that was enough for me.” What worry did he really have against this young woman, who even if she’d trained for a time would be able to best his physical abilities? It was so unlikely that she could cause him any danger, and to even hinder the experience by trying to read her felt pointless. Something he kept with himself was always how quickly time moved even still, and he found it much easier to enjoy things as they were in present time. “I like learning.” He added, realizing soon after it needed an after thought. He didn’t want to waste precious time on suspicions when most humans relied on intuition. “What, do you like reading, movies?” Almost as if trying to become one again, leaning on the mortal side of himself Rene listened intently to her words and laid waste to the rest.

“Oh, ah no.” He smiled, and shook his head. He wasn’t lying, technically, having been done with school for some considerable time now. “I finished secondary school, I just haven’t gone back. Not sure I want to.” In truth he loved the course of education, the endless facets of learning. Even now it was something of a fixated interest. “I’m a freelance writer.” He lied. “I try to keep up and practice, like it’s a muscle or something.” Rene glanced over and smiled, even if most of the time her head was crooned to the cobblestone below, avoiding eye contact. “They have some great art centers around here, and this huge bookstore they made from this old, derelict building, some museums.” He smirked, a smart look as he turned his head to her attention. “There is kind of an outdoorsy museum for hunters, you know? But you don’t strike me as a taxidermy type of person. I just don’t see you with giant deer heads on your walls, I don’t know, I could be reading you wrong.” He shrugged. “What about you, are you in school?”

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years ago

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26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this ��agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

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heyheydidjaknow · 2 years ago

Note

Ur analyses of death note always make me bark. I come bother you with all my death note stuff so here’s another thing:

In the death note musical Soichiro has a whole song “there are lines” and several lines in “secrets and lies” where he distances himself from L. his lines are “how can I ever be at ease with L/his methods lack a moral code/as for Kira he can go to hell/taking L along down this dark and evil road”.

Firstly, I don’t think this was a mischaracterization of Soichiro, to have him feel this way (so early and explicitly) about L. He doesn’t approve of L’s methods in the show either. I think he misses the big picture in a way that L doesn’t though. Like obviously Soichiro knows Kira is a big deal but he isn’t used to dealing with things the way L is, from the outside. Anyway,

Though L and Light reflect each other I really don’t think they are entirely comparable. I think L is most like Light when he first gets the death note, but not even entirely because L isn’t motivated by justice in quite the same way Light is. What I’m trying to say is that L isn’t what Soichiro (and himself) see him as, he isn’t evil, he isn’t morally corrupt, sure he doesn’t always act within the law or within the social contract but I don’t think those things are really meant for him in the position he’s in anyway. He wouldn’t be effective if he was a by the book kind of guy. I don’t think L really ever breaks the law maliciously. I think the worst we see is him keeping Light and Misa hostage but I mean if they didn’t have an unfair supernatural advantage to begin with I doubt he would have had to go that far.

I feel like my thoughts are a little scrambled but I think the thing I see time and time again is the series trying to tell us what L is, what L sees himself as, what strangers (Soichiro at the beginning) see him as, peers (Light, Mello, Near) see him as, but I don’t think all of their descriptions/perceptions of him are correct. They’re all biased, as am I, but regardless, I’m just obsessed with him being a good guy and I don’t think it’s reaching at all to think that.

L’s distant but he isn’t cold which now that I think about it, ur right, that is what separates him from Near. L pretty much melts (as much as his personality allows) around people (the investigation team and in L change the worLd) and Near spends his time around comparably way more people than L does and yet he remains.

This went in a million different directions lmao feel free to let this one sit or whatever I just love to talk about death note

I swear that with every passing day this show becomes less about Light and more about L. Not that I’m mad about it, but I’m noticing that trend. I completely agree with most of what’s said here (even though I can’t speak to the musical as I haven’t listened to it) but I don’t think that the morally corrupt thing is exactly right. It’s not that they think of him (and he thinks of himself) as corrupt as it is that they (and he) thinks of him(self) as largely apathetic to the more human side of the murders he involves himself with. He’s relatively confident and cool in the face of murder, selfish in the sense that he keeps himself secluded away for a significant portion of the show, which is what people have issue with, and while cowardly and cautious and smart are words we could argue about all day long, the idea that he’s apathetic is wrong, I think. He’s just willing to put his feelings to the side; they’re still there, but he’s managed to convince himself that they aren’t.

What people take issue with is his apparent unwillingness to trust people and to appear saddened by anything happening. What people fail to recognize is that just because you ignore your emotions doesn’t mean they aren’t present.

In regards to being a good guy, eh. I’d argue that the rest of the task is closer to being good guys than L is. I will say that I’ve seen people claim he’s evil, which I disagree with, but that doesn’t make him a good guy or anything. But that doesn’t mean I like him any less.

#death note #death note lawliet #l death note #analysis

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clandestinegardenias · 4 years ago

Note

talk about your social theory thoughts i wanna hear about the he asked for no pickles/your son calls me daddy now dichotomy

THANK YOU for asking this I now have an excuse to burden everyone with my Thoughts on this post (even though it took me a few days to form them fjdslkak sorry)

SO Cas was never socialized to interact with humanity - he has an extremely tenuous grasp on social norms! He lacks the mental schematic humans rely on to stage public interactions.

Like, think about when you’re tired, and sad/angry, and the last thing in the WORLD you want to do is interact with another person. But you do really want a hamburger. Fortunately for you, there are standard social scripts to get you through that interaction so that you can acquire a hamburger without expending a ton of effort. You know the script: “I’m good, how are you?” “I’d like a Big Mac, no pickles, with a medium fries” “No thanks, that’s all!” “Oh, sorry, I asked for no pickles?” “Thanks so much, have a great day!” Boom, done. You slip into a front stage, public persona that can deal with mundane social interactions on autopilot. CAS DOESN’T HAVE THAT, or at least is still learning/not very good at it. He’s his backstage, private persona pretty much all the time! Dean moderates that and provides the normative scripted interactions Cas is missing - he acts as the public-facing persona FOR Cas!

He pulls out the script and says, for Cas, “Hey he didn’t want any pickles”

DEAN, on the other hand, is VERY good at the front-facing public persona--at hiding behind social norms and scripted interactions. He’s SO good at it, in fact, that it’s hard for him to turn that off and slip into his private, backstage self. His public self has become more or less a cage around him. He struggles to break norms, to say no, to leave obligations unfulfilled, to criticize others or prioritize (even acknowledge!) his own inner wants and feelings ESPECIALLY when those go against what he and others expect of him.

I think a lot of this goes back to his relationship with John--about the expectations placed on him from a very young age, the responsibilities he had to shoulder, the extreme masculinized identity he was expected to take on, the emotional punishment for any deviation from those expectations. Dean has been so conditioned to ignore his own wants and needs, and more or less everyone in his life has expectations of the role Dean SHOULD perform, so he gets locked into that. But Cas doesn’t have those expectations, doesn’t even get social norms anyway, doesn’t need Dean to be any specific idealized role.

Cas, I would argue, is one of the few (if not the only!) person who really understands who Dean is, backstage, in his own, private self. He doesn’t NEED Dean for anything, doesn’t need him to BE anyone, and he sees the damage Dean does by ignoring his inner self. So Cas intercedes for him, gives him permission to be something other than the expectations and normative social roles that have been forced on him. He allows him to confront his deep-seated need to live up to the expectations of others and never challenge how those relationships have hurt him--in particular his relationship with his father.

He looks Dean and John’s relationship right in the face and says “He calls me daddy now” -- he rejects your negative influence, disempowers your role as a father, slaps your heteronormativity right in the face, redefines the social norms that govern Dean’s life, allows Dean to be something other than daddy’s little weapon.

Dean moderates Cas’ relationship with society, smooths it and eases the way.

Cas moderates Dean’s relationship with his own internalized expectations of himself, smooths it and eases the way.

That’s love, right there. That’s caring, caretaking, softness, soothing, intercession on your beloved’s behalf. They complement each other so, so well -- they make each other more comfortable, they make each other better people. They CHOOSE to soften each others’ harsh experiences of the world through their actions.

Goddamnit they’re beautiful!! They should have kissed!!! Declared mutual undying love for all eternity! HAD A FUCKING SOFT ENDING. This is a television show!! GAH!

#autisticandroids #ask #wow yeah okay I DO indeed have thoughts about this huh?#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #meta #social theory

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smoochkooks · 4 years ago

Text

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.”

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #an ode to a broken heart

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tomhiddelstonandzaynmalik · 3 years ago

Text

Love at first sight?

chapter 9

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 chapter 8

Warren Worthington III x reader

Word count: 1278 words

Warnings: language, some angst?

"Well, don't just stand in there, start talking, Worthington". Ororo said nonchalantly handling Warren a pb&jelly sandwich. The problem was, Warren had no clue how. His lack of emotional intelligence had begun with his parents' "emotional-indifference-policy" was followed, once he got excommunicated, by the lowlifes he surrounded himself with.

Life was a bitch meaning you needed to toughen up unless you wanted to get fucked up harder than you were going to. Even more so if you happened to be a preppy, good looking, recently homeless teenage boy like Warren used to be. As he struggled to find the correct words, Ororo suggested. "Oh dear God! Let's do this: I ask, you answer, okay?." The girl said, even if the overall situation was somewhat irritating for her. She knew talking about crushes was like venturing onto unknown territory for him.

"What do you like about her?". Warren was unsurprised by his friend's bluntness. She was a clever girl. Why wasting time asking the obvious? Warren fancied you, that was a fact, what was yet unknown was, why?.

"She's like me and, at the same time, way better". Warren said after contemplating his answer for a few seconds. "I mean, the world made her a hard nut, just like me. She was only 9 when Social Services took her away from her shitty mother, she ran away from foster care at 12 and began Cage Fighting at 13 and by 14 was already a Champion". He couldn't help but feel flustered when talking about you. And honestly, having Ororo's scrutinizing gaze all over him didn't help to ease his nerves. "Why did you say she's way better than you?". Warren glanced around the kitchen, looking for anyone who could be listening. When he made sure they were alone, he spoke almost in a whisper. "Because she's not, you know, she's open to... I push everyone away because, because I'm afraid of, shit! If you let people in, they will see! They will see just how big of a pussy you are! But Y/N is... braver than I could ever be". In an attempt of avoiding his friend's eyes, Warren focused on his boots as if they had become the more fascinating things in the room. Since he couldn't stare at the girl, he was waiting for any sound to come up from her mouth, but Ororo remained silent to Warren's remark about himself. Instead, she closed the space between them, wrapping the young man in a swift but much needed hug. Although Warren's arms remained to his sides, he rested his chin on top of the girl's head in a silent "thank you".

"I'd like to meet her". She finally let out as they broke the contact. "We can stop by later".

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

"Seems like we got a deal, Y/N".

Yes, Warren Worthington III had decided to stay at the national heroes' HC, which also served as a school for a pair of lovely Y/E/C eyes.

Or so it appeared to be. After telling Ororo all he knew about you, including the less-than-appalling choice for a first encounter, allowing her to come up with more jokes Warren would have liked. They spoke about Charle's offering. He not only wanted to vent out about how much of a stupid idea it was but also because he knew his friend could be the voice of reason he so much needed.

"You done?" She had said unbothered after 15 minutes of hearing Warren's nonsense. He only nodded in agreement. "Good, now shut up and only listen! Ever since we met, you've been talking about wanting to stop being so much of a screw-up, don't you?". "Well, this is your second chance at that! If I'm honest, I'm not sure if there will be a third, so you better take it before it's too late". "If what you're worried about is not fitting in, don't! I'm not saying the whole school will love you automatically but that there are already those who do now. After all, you know what they say, quality over quantity."

It had been Ororo's speech that reminded him of those many nights he spent at the empty warehouse drowning his sorrows in Vodka. It had been only there where he would open the damn and cry his guts out. In the end, he could always blame his tears on the alcohol in his system and not his misery what had him broken-hearted and lonely.

Staying at Xavier's was, just like his friend said, the answer to those prayers he shouted at the sky for putting an end to his grief during those very same nights.

"Well, tell me how this place works! Hank said you'd been here for some weeks already". You spoke as a silver blur sent some papers that had been lying on your bed, flying all over the room.

"You're wasting your time asking the wrong person! The only time dear Warren left this room was the day you met!". A young man dressed in light jeans, a Led-Zeppelin crop top and a silver jacket which matched his hair informed you, just as he was taking a seat next to you on your bed. When the hell did this man come inside? Was he a teleporter or what? Your puzzled look was enough for him to speak again with the same cheerful tone from before. "Oops! Sorry, where are my manners?" The silver-haired said while face-slapping himself playfully. "Peter Maximoff, speedster by day, hero by night-". Warren interrupted him mid-sentence. "And a nuisance at all times". "Yup, that too". The young man said with a proud smile on his face, showing his dimples that, combined with his overall extravagant and joyful personality, were giving him an endearing look. "Anyhow, if you want to know this place, I'm your man, I know the mansion like the palm of my hand". He said, placing his arm around your shoulders, making Warren roll his eyes. Maybe it was because of Peter's abrupt entrance or, as your intuition was telling you, a tiny bit of jealousy from him.

"Sounds cool, by the way, im-". "Y/N! I know, Ororo told us!". You were about to ask what did he meant by "us". When a group of five people around your age made their way inside. "Monroe, what the actual fuck!". Warren jumped from his seat, yelling at a girl rocking a similar hairstyle to Warren's, the only difference being her hair was white. "I'm sorry, I went back to the kitchen to grab something when I saw Jean and, you know how Jean is! Before I knew it, the whole gang was coming over to meet her".

The girl, Ororo said, almost begging for Warren to understand, what didn't he like them? You were lost in thought when a feminine voice, aside from your own, spoke inside your head. "He doesn't hate us, but I wouldn't say he loves us either". "Another one! How many fucking telepaths are in this house?" Now it was You who was screaming. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. It's hard not to listen sometimes. The Professor and I are the only ones at the moment". The ginger said, ashamed of her mutation to a certain degree which made you feel bad for showing such disgust for her innocent action. "Jean, right? I didn't mean to be a dick. It's just, next time, tell me before, would you?". You said, to which the girl only nodded.

"Now, why don't you explain to me. Why do you say my Angel is not your biggest of fans?".

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #peter maximoff #jean grey #archangel x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #xmen x reader #xmen #ororo munroe

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dailycharacteroption · 3 years ago

Text

Brute (Vigilante Archetype)

Today’s subject is a bit infamous among fans of the Pathfinder First Edition system, being a rare archetype that definitely could have used at least one more round in development before being put out, which is a pity as it is a fun concept.

There are plenty of examples of heroes and vigilantes that seem to keep their cool no matter the situation, but today’s subject are very much not that, quite the opposite, in fact. These are the heroes who have a monster inside them, itching to get out.

From the mythical Cu Chulainn to certain interpretations of Jekyll and Hyde, to the Incredible Hulk, the vigilantes known as brutes are capable of transforming into a monstrous form, able to perform incredible feats of strength, but also bestial and emotionally-unstable, sometimes unable to tell friend from foe.

Paizo has done Hulk-analogue archetypes before and since then, with the ragechemist and the rageshaper shifter coming to mind, but due to either some lack of oversight, or perhaps too much without understanding how to balance properly, the brute vigilante comes across as one of the weaker options for playing a volatile shapeshifting monster, the exact reasons why we’ll get to below.

The brute does, however, represent a way to play a shapeshifting warrior that actively wants to conceal their true identity, no doubt due to the monstrous nature of the transformation. They might be victims of strange experiments, under a curse, benefitting from a dubious “blessing” or something else entirely.

Compared to other vigilantes, brutes are tougher, but not as reflexive or willful. They are also less skilled in weapons and armor, but they are familiar with how to deal damage with their unarmed strikes.

The vigilante identity of these figures is that of a monstrous brute, easily twice as big as their natural form but not terribly stronger, though they do become more effective combatants. This form is often in the throes of rage, making them more easily struck and nearly impossible to use social or intellectual skills. What’s more, this form tends to come out unbidden when they are in danger, and has trouble telling friend from foe, often lashing out at allies when their foes have been defeated. What’s more, using it tires them out. Additionally, if not calmed down, they can remain in this volatile form for up to an hour, and anyone who sees them transform immediately connects the two identities, not to mention that nonmagical equipment does not resize for them, and not magical arms or armor except by special method we will seen soon.

The brute has access to special talents, including knocking foes across the room with a strike, improving their unarmed strikes heavily to be absolutely devastating, incredible climbing agility, resizing magical arms and armor to fit their form with drawbacks, and finally, becoming adept at throwing objects and even other creatures as projectiles.

The most powerful among them can rip foes apart, dealing extra damage the more hits they land, similar to the rend ability.

With all these abilities out of the way, let’s cover why the brute vigilante does not work. Firstly, the fact that armor literally does not work for them until much later level when they change forms, and even that is with a penalty which really shouldn’t be a thing, which means that between their size penalty and the form’s rage-like penalty, these vigilantes can be hit with ease, making them quite vulnerable at early levels. Secondly, the will save to resist transformation and turn back scales very quickly while the poor will save they have struggles to keep up, meaning it is actually even harder to resist transforming the higher your level is, to say nothing of the fact that it just takes transforming in public once to ruin your vigilante identity in that locale.

Honestly this archetype feels like it was oversighted into the ground, like the creators wanted to do a hulk-like archetype for the brute but also were hung up on the fact that the vigilante at its core is a very rogue-themed class, but rather than tone down the skilled side of the rogue to compensate, they decided to give every new ability in their arsenal intentional (and unintentional) drawbacks that make it difficult to play. Most of the time, this archetype is better represented by a rageshaper, or maybe a ragechemist.

However, if all of that does not deter you, and you really want to play a hulk-like figure that plays with the dual identities, this archetype still can prove to be a glass cannon, hitting pretty dang hard at early levels until you can get some proper protections.

Another thing many people dislike about this archetype is how easy it is to lose the benefits of the separation of social and vigilante identities, which is understandable, but I feel like it was meant to be a feature, rather than a bug, emulating those classic early Incredible Hulk comics/shows where Bruce Banner was forced to drift from town to town, relying on being a relative unknown to establish his secret identity until circumstance eventually forced him to move on again. That being said, it would have been nicer to alter the identity ability to match that feel if that was what they were going for, or change it so that the hero wouldn’t be so at risk all the time.

For years, Brother Urvad has been a devout, if not magically-inclined devotee of the local temple of the Peacemaker. However, all that changed the day that a group of bounty hunters came into town looking for something they called “The Beast of Galvoda”.

Vekk was kidnapped about a month ago by a wicked alchemist seeking a way to unlock the full power of lycanthropy hidden in his witchwolf beastkin bloodline. What he got was something very different, and now the escaped shapeshifter wanders, afraid of the animal that now hides behind his own eyes.

Though the rift dragon that once plagued the land in the region is long dead, the stain of the Abyss that it brought with it remains, increasing the rate of births of sorcerers and bloodragers with draconic and/or abyssal power for generations to come. However, not all births so afflicted are so lucky. A rare few are born with the fury of the dragon in their very blood, eager to twist their body and lash out.

#pathfinder #archetype #vigilante #brute #beastkin #dragon #rift dragon #Ultimate Intrigue

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hunflowers · 4 years ago

Text

Lake George

A/N: This is a little extra for my fic Skating Lessons! And she’s part of @helladirections’s Summer Feeling Challenge! So, I’m doing the boat ride challenge and i’d say she’s hella cute :D enjoy! *nose boops*

Going on a vacation together is a big step in a relationship.

At least in Harry’s mind it is, considering this was going to be the first time Y/N was going to join him and Abby for the annual Lake George trip.

End of June, early July, Harry, Abby, Harry’s mum and sister, and a few of Harry’s friends go on a week long getaway to Lake George in upstate New York. Of course this year Y/N would be tagging along because she’s Harry’s girlfriend.

And Harry is fucking nervous.

Y/N hasn’t met any of his friends really and he’s worried how she’ll think of them. Because he knows his friends take a little getting used to, to actually enjoy their company. But, she was insistent — if he was okay with it — she join, so she can feel like less of an outsider in his life.

Plus, Abby really wanted her there. And once Abby wants something, it’s hard for Harry to say no. His daughter is just too adorable and too innocent to deny her anything. Which, can be bad, but he doesn’t really have to worry about Abby turning out spoiled or anything because even as a five year old, she’s pretty humble.

She was insistent, saying she wanted Y/N to join so there’s more girls, and so she could be around someone she actually enjoyed. Though Nana and Aunt Gemma were a close second.

Harry was quick to make Y/N feel not pressured to go no matter how much Abby begged, because he knew she wanted to take things at her own pace. Y/N didn’t meet his mum or sister until four months after they made it official and was quite intimidated about the idea of assimilating into his social life.

Y/N never liked to think of herself as a shy person, and she’s slowly -- ever since Harry has been in her life -- becoming more open to people instead of closing herself off like she used to. “Do y’think they’re gonna like me?” was her main concern the entire plane ride over to New York, and then in the train to the lake, and then when they checked into their hotel.

“Baby, ask me one more time and m’gonna throw you in that lake,” Harry jerked his head to the window that overlooked the vast lake, a warning tone with a hint of humor etched across his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smacking him in the shoulder, 1) because he knew her lack of swimming skills and 2) because he hasn’t really provided her with an answer to ease her social anxiety. “Jerk, I’m just nervous.” She looked to Abby in her arms, rocking the little girl a little as she snoozed on her shoulder.

Harry set down their bags on the floor by the bed, before walking over to the extra cot and opening it up for Abby to sleep on. When it was finally set up, Harry walked over to his lovely girls, taking his daughter from Y/N’s arms and gently laying her down on the makeshift bed. He kissed her forehead after tucking her in before walking back over to his girlfriend who opened her suitcase to pull out her own pajamas to sleep in.

By the time they got to the lake it was about ten o’clock, plus jetlag was seeping through their systems and they couldn’t wait to knock out before their busy week ahead of them.

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she stood upright against his chest, sighing into the feeling of him pressed against her, her eyes shutting slightly as the exhaustion took over her body.

Into her ear, he mumbles, “They’re gonna love you. I’m worried if y’g’na love ‘em.”

“If they make you happy, m’sure I will,” she hummed back, turning her head slightly so she could plant a soft kiss to his cheek. At the contact, Harry turned his head so they were face to face, just so he could secure a kiss on the lips.

“C’mon let’s get to bed,” he patted her bottom, leaving one last kiss to her shoulder.

❊ ❊

Y/N never should’ve agreed to coming.

Or, never should’ve agreed to getting on the boat for a little ‘fun.’

She was perfectly tanning on the little beach, reading a new book she brought with her until Harry and co. get back from their little adventure. It was going to be a perfect bonding time for her and Anne and Gemma, but no, nothing was ever that easy.

Abby and her sweet little face could convince the most stubborn of people to do anything, and that’s the only reason she agreed to leaving the safe space that is land. Did Harry in his tiny, white swim shorts have any influence? Hardly. Though, she found it difficult to look away from. Especially when they boarded the floating trap and he removed his t-shirt.

But, Y/N was so beyond nervous of falling overboard and drowning, even in the life jacket that Harry secured to her body. She hardly let her eyes wander out to the water surrounding them, getting nauseous at the sight of the vast lake and thought of all bad things that could happen.

She wasn’t even nervous about his friends anymore. They all get along pretty well, which is amazing. And that leaves more room for her to be anxious about the boat ride.

Harry sat by her side the majority of the time, except for when it was his turn to take a ride out on the water for a little wake-boarding. Surprising to Y/N, he managed to stay balanced and pull off a few tricks here and there, except for when he completely wiped out by the end of his turn. Her initial instinct was to fear for his life when he dropped down in the water, a loud gasp escaping her throat as he sunk away from her line of vision. But, when his head popped back out of the blue and a smile was adorning his face, she felt just a little bit better.

When he came back onto the boat and sat back next to her, Y/N couldn’t help but pull him into her arms, and mutter “Had me worried for a second,” into his ear, causing him to squeeze her in return. Of course after ogling his wet skin and how tight his tiny, white shorts clung to his thighs.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, darling.” And then he smooshed her cheeks which puckered her lips, and kissed her briefly. “D’ya wanna go for a ride?”

Y/N let out a loud laugh at this, “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“How about tubing?” He pointed as one large raft was being set up now at the back of the boat. “All you gotta do is sit, and hope for the best.”

Y/N looked at him with a deadpan expression, blinking a couple of times. “You want to torture me don’t you?”

“Come on with me! If we wipe out, we do it as a team. Y’know, because we’re a team,” he smiled cheekily, batting his eyelashes the best he could at her. It isn’t hard to determine where Abby learned that from.

Everyone started to gang up on Y/N, telling her just how fun it’ll be, saying she’s wearing a life jacket and has no reason to fear. And Harry will always save her if anything goes wrong.

It’ll be fun, they said.

You won’t regret it, they said.

But, when her and Harry flipped over on a particularly rough turn, she did in fact, regret it. And it wasn’t fun.

She’ll admit that the moment her body collapsed onto the water, and her life vest kept her afloat, she wasn’t as terrified as she thought she’d be. That doesn’t make her any less right that she was perfectly fine with staying on the boat and watching everyone else enjoy the little adventure.

When Harry popped back up out of the water, he was laughing his head off, pushing his floppy hair off of his forehead. Y/N splashed him, flipping him off as he continued laughing, waiting for the boat to come back around to pick them up.

“See, y’survived, baby. Knew you would,” he grinned, earning another splash from her as he swam over to her.

Abby was a giggling mess when she saw the state of Y/N and Harry, pointing her finger at the two of them as she recounted the events from her own perspective. There were a lot of hand gestures involved in between laughs, and in return, Harry jokingly picked up his daughter and held her over the water upside down.

This just made Abby squeal and laugh harder, no ounce of fear of being dropped anywhere in sight.

Y/N was envious, because Abby wasn’t even wearing a life jacket of her own and she seemed to be completely fine with dropping into the water -- not that Harry actually would.

After all of the more adventurous of the festivities, they all relaxed with the last couple of hours of rented boat time. And though Y/N shouldn’t exactly be drinking while out on the water, to submerge this underlying fear of hers, she needed to drink to forget about it.

And, well, she did feel a little more relaxed after she got a bit of vodka in her system.

“So, Y/N, is H treatin’ ya well?” Niall, one of Harry’s friends asked, finishing off what seemed to be his third beer in an hour. It was impressive, and how he doesn’t even slightly fazed by the alcohol is even more impressive.

Taking a sip of her own drink, she nodded her head. “Very well. Nicest person I’ve ever met, honestly.”

“I know Abs is crazy ‘bout you. When Harry was first telling me about you, t’first thing he mentioned was how Abby was absolutely in awe of you. That’s the deal breaker for him, his daughter,” he gestured in the direction of where Harry and Abby had ventured off to.

They were both in the water, Abby on his back as he swam around. Harry sometimes ducked on the water, taking Abby with him, both of them popping back up and laughing as she tightened her hold on him. The sight of them two always warmed Y/N’s heart, and each time she saw their bond, it made her determined to stay in their lives for however long they’ll have her.

She loves watching them together and seeing how happy they are when they’re together. They’re best friends and Y/N can’t imagine either of them ruining the pure relationship they have together. And the love they radiate between each other is one that is unmatched, and Y/N wishes she loved someone like they loved each other.

Then it dawns on her.

“Niall, I think I’m in love with Harry.”

At the L-bomb, Niall couldn’t help but spit out the beer that was about to travel down his throat all over the deck of the boat, coating the area in front of him in the sticky substance. His eyes widened as his mouth dropped open into a wide smile, “Holy shit.”

❊ ❊

“Nana, you gotta come with us t’mo’row! It was so much fun!” Abby squealed as she was lifted off the ground, one hand in Anne’s and one in Harry’s as they swung her between the two of them.

Y/N trailed behind them, watching the three of them interact in a loving manner. Ever since her little epiphany from earlier, she hasn’t really spoken to Harry, and not in a bad way, but in a I don’t know how to cope with myself right now kind of silence.

They’ve been together a total of eight months, and the L-word hadn’t ever really crossed over Y/N’s mind. She supposes it’s because she still has this underlying fear that he’ll up and leave her because he’s so far out of her league, but as days pass on and she gets to know this man more and more each day, she can’t imagine herself never wanting to be apart of his life anymore.

Seeing him with Abby makes her yearn for a life like that with him, with kids of their own, married, bound to grow old together. And to get to that point, she has to admit to him and herself, that she really loves him.

Like, loves love him.

Harry noticed her silence about an hour ago after they docked the boat and went to dinner. He was confused as to why she had grown silent and he worried she was mad at him for pushing her to go tubing with him, but he also knows her well enough that, that isn’t something she could stay mad at. He also knows her well enough to know not to push her in a public setting, and that she’ll talk when she’s ready.

That’s why he suggests Abby stays with his mum and sister for the night so they could watch a movie or two together and catch up a bit since it’d been a little while since they spent a decent amount of time together. Though, Anne and Gemma knew he just wanted some alone time with Y/N because they also noticed her quiet attitude compared to the start of the day.

When they all departed, and Y/N and Harry headed to their room, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head -- his signature move to console her. “You okay?”

Y/N looked up to him, and nodded her head. “M’fine. Just had some things on my mind.”

“Like what?” He hummed, inserting the key to their room and waiting for the little green light on the handle before pushing open the door.

“Just... things,” she shrugged, mentally slapping herself in the face. She hated how nervous this newfound thought has made her, and she feels like she’s been thrown back to step one when it comes to being open around Harry.

He rose one eyebrow in response, “Uh, right. Do y’want to shower first?” He changed the subject, throwing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the ensuite bathroom.

“No, no, you can go first,” she waved him off, kicking off her sandals and gathering her disgusting hair into a ponytail to get it out of her face.

Harry opened his mouth to say something else but he quickly shut it, deciding this was a conversation that needed to be had when he felt less sticky. Though, he zoomed as fast as he could in the shower because the anxious gut feeling over what’s wrong was eating him alive.

When he came out of the bathroom in just his towel, he ruffled the ends of his hair quickly before pushing them up and out of his face. He was quick to notice Y/N was looking at her phone, a small smile complementing her face as she looked at whatever was on it. And his curiosity got the best of him as he wondered, “What’re you smiling at?”

Y/N looked up from her phone, the smile still nestled into her skin as she showed him the contents of her happiness. “I forgot I took these before.”

They were photos of him from the boat, a captain’s hat on his head that he had found in a little compartment under one of the benches. They were some of her newfound favorite photos of him.

Which only further solidified her love for this man.

That guy in the photos is her boyfriend, and the man she loves,

It’s crazy.

“Hey, I look pretty good,” he grins, flicking his nonexistent long hair over his shoulder.

Y/N hums back, bringing the phone back around to her eyesight, still staring at the photos she took. She also got a few of Abby that are absolutely precious. And all she wishes is that she gets to stay in this girls life for the rest of her life.

“Y/N,” Harry called, knocking her out of her lovestruck trance, making her snap her eyes to him as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her a little worrisome. “Are y’sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, H. Honest.”

He gave her a pointed look at that, basically saying c’mon I know you better than that. “Was it m’friends? I know they can be a little... much, tha’s what I’ve been trying to warn you about.”

“No! No, I loved them, they were really great,” she spoke quickly, getting up from the armchair she was on, and standing in front of him.

“Is it because I pushed you into going on the boat today?”

“No--”

“I know I shouldn’t have, I’m really sorry--”

“Harry!” Y/N finally snapped, bringing her hands up to his cheeks and smooshing them together so he could stop talking for just one second.

“I’m in love with you.”

Silence loomed over them as Harry’s jaw fell slack and his eyebrows scrunched together. Y/N smiled down at him sheepishly, her hands moving down to his shoulders, tears swelling in her eyes as she really took in what she just said to him. She felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, her mind finally relaxing and taking its own deep breath as the truth was finally set free.

It felt like an eternity as they kept staring at one another, but Y/N didn’t mind. She could spend forever looking at him and never once would she get bored.

Her left hand came up to caress the underside of his jaw, her thumb grazing over the bit of stubble that sat on his face. To break the silence, she said it again, “I love you.”

“You love me?” He finally breathed, hands coming up to her hips and pulling her down to straddle his lap.

Y/N brought her arms up to wrap around his shoulders, a bigger smile than before worming its way up her face. “So much.”

“Holy shit,” and then he kissed her. He pulled her face quick against his, locking their lips in a passionate embrace fueled by love.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he broke them apart, cupping her face in his hands as he kisses her cheeks, her nose, then her forehead.

“I fucking love you, Y/N.”

And then the tears swelled in her eyes again at his confession. She sat back just a little bit as her eyes bounced back and forth between his, now letting his truth dawn on her.

Before she could say anything else, he continued, “I’ve loved you for a while now. But, I wanted you to say it first. I knew if I did, you would’ve spiraled into a sea of darkness in that mind of yours. Needed you to say it first, needed you to do it without any pressure of saying it back.”

Fuck, she loves him so much.

And now the tears cascaded down her cheeks as she pulled him back to her in a heated kiss. They fell back against the mattress, Harry’s hands firm on her hips as they rocked back and forth with one another.

It was refreshing stepping into a new part of their relationship that has yet to be explored. It excited them both; To be able to love each other with no fears getting in the way. They were developing and evolving together and fuck, they love each other.

“I really wanna have sex,” Y/N muttered against his lips, pecking his soft lips once more. “But I really need to shower first.”

“V’got a solution,” he smiled, quickly sitting up and standing up with her legs wrapped around his hips. It was clear to say he was heading to the bathroom again, his intentions straightforward — and Y/N’s heart and lower region throbbed at the thought.

“M’gonna need another shower after we’re done anyway.”

#lmk what you thought!!!! :D #harry styles blurb #harry styles soft #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles

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writingandmore · 3 years ago

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Hi!!! May I get a HP, Star Wars, Voltron, and Disney matchup?

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, muggleborn Ravenclaw (with Gryffindor tendencies), and my patronus spirit is Hummingbird. Biromantic Pansexual Genderfluid woman using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. Cherubic-like face, with short height (5'1") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has chic messy/wavy brunette medium hair that reaches to my shoulder, oriental skin, slightly upturned eyes, small lashes, chocolate brown irises, cute flat nose, heart shaped face, full cheeks, cupid's bow lips, a small beauty mark on the forehead, and naturally straight teeth with tiny gap in front (just imagine that it's a mixture of Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲---cause' my friend told me that I kinda look like them). My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam, I sometimes let my hair down or styled like Lara Croft reboot.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant, quiet, and timid at first making people thought I'm a demure, modest, and self-effacing that looks "immaculate" or "one of a kind" (due to my protective mom, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis---like my happiness is too shallow, super talkative, eats a lot (yeah I can finish a huge slice of cake or a meal in one sitting), awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY CLUMSY (mostly gets bruises from hitting, bumping my head somewhere, walking into something on my way, and being careless to my belongings), secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, eager to share what I know (especially about Catholic Church---my past teacher joked that I'll become a saint because of it 🤣), oftenly speaks full of sarcasm with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no.1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself but can be awkward to strangers. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

The extent, I'm expressive, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, laid-back, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic that cries so easily (but will enlightened real quick by smallest things that makes me smile) filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone because they might get dissappointed from expectations---I simply can't stop proving myself too much because I'm a survivor of bullying. But I still managed to be stronger than ever after I stumbled, even it's a slow burn process. I can be blunt, intimidating, harsh, and a douchebag if I receive ends or I got interrupted while doing something. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, forgetful, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic youth, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams and what's important to me) and what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Rowdy and feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will call out on people that we loathe, will make fun of your stupidity (in a good way) before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic and cheeky (makes banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment, but gets annoyed if I received sappy or offensive one), Still generous and concerned person in a subtle and different way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. I'll include making corniest jokes/puns, sleeping, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD). I also used to learn Italian language a bit.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, milk tea, singing at the karaoke, cartoons, iced coffee, memes, cute things, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, poetry, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes Catholic songs, kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, thunder and lightning, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. If I found out that someone hates or backstabbing or being rude to me, I won't hesitate to throw offensive criticisms, leaving them with a "I don't give a f" attitude. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity, worse scenarios in real life, and how terrible is my love life from unrequited feelings that I got, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family (it sucks that some people I knew assumed that the reason why I'm overly unaware that someone is interested in me in secret, is I have "high standards" looking for a partner, but the truth is I'm strict and I have a personal preferences...I know my worth and I don't want settle for less!) and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some, sounds too hypocritical, like as if you're a morally good person.

𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 + 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦

My love languages are quality time and gift giving, but I actually swoon over physical touch (especially cuddles and cute kisses) and words of affirmation when it comes to having a partner, though I get attracted so easily, matured but can be a goofy person who's nice, friendly, kind-hearted, loving, faithful, and excels in academics is my cup of tea. Whenever I have a real life crush (which is rare), I act the same but deep inside, my heart is about to explode and will eventually share to my trustful friends how I highly admire that person, however if they spilled the beans out, I'll obviously deny it and will cry if they like someone else, it will take some time for me to move on, now I don't care for them anymore.

Best Friends to Lovers is my ideal trope because I find it very cute since you already knew each other before dating (which happened to my 2nd cousin, she married her best friend!)---perfect balance for romance, laughters, comfort, and tears when it comes to sharing your vibes, being there through thick and thin, safe with embraces, and helping each other to grow.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗦

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, oratorical skills and I have potential in hosting...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, speaker, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader).

May sounds different but I'm passionate for helping people through my talents and sharing my story to inspire everyone. I may look selfish, but I have a different way on how I show that I actually care also I have a biased sentimental value

Currently a college freshman, learning how to cook. I have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

HP: Remus!

- Remus is also quiet and a bit reserved when he's not in a familiar situation, so your own first impression on him would be a good one, as you'd seem similar to his own personality. He's sweet and is able to start up a conversation if he notices the other person is having a hard time doing so, so hopefully he'd be able to bring out your more extroverted and friendly self after a while so he can be around the more open you. He wouldn't mind you being a bit awkward-he's very much the same way-honestly, the comradery that would come from that would be more positive than anything else. He loves sharing knowledge and learning about new things, so your eagerness to talk about what you know would work really well also! He does a lot better when he knows someone has his back too, so your extra supportive nature would endear him to you as well.

SW: Han!

- Your nicer and more helpful personality would balance out Han's more standoffish vibes when first meeting. You might get on his nerves a bit first, but you'd quickly grown on him and, in turn, make him a bit of a better person. Your ability to be blunt and a bit harsh would serve you well if you ever needed to stand your ground on an issue that two of you have, as he can be quite stubborn.

VLD: Lance!

- Lance can be a bit immature from time to time as well, especially when it comes to trying to be funny or cheering up those around him-he's also headstrong and typically firm in what he wants to do, so your own determined personality would attract him to you a lot as well. He often puts off things he needs to do if they make him anxious too, but if you both recognize that you share that problem, helping each other might be a good solution!

Disney: Flynn!

- Flynn is quite a sarcastic and teasing person, so your own humor would match well with his. He's also quite a hopeless romantic as well, even though he's certainly not one to admit that right off the bat. He enjoys singing, and as he gets closer to someone he feels more comfortable doing so in front of them, so a partner he's been with for a long time would get to see him be more and more open with it. That also applies to activities like dancing.

#hp matchup #remus lupin #sw matchp #han solo #vld matchup #lance mcclain #disney matchup #flynn rider

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bestworstcase · 4 years ago

Text

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 3-4

- a shot-put ball, according to my cursory research, weighs in the neighborhood of 6-16 pounds. leila howland expects me to believe that princess “hoisted an adult woman 70 ft into the air on the daily with nothing but a pulley and raw upper body strength” rapunzel has a hard time picking up a shot.

anyways

- rapunzel thinks about how she used to talk to herself in her tower when she was isolated (and lonely) but stopped once she came to corona, and this girl looked like she was talking to herself, and it gave rapunzel this weird sense of familiarity! now what in the world could that mean? its so subtle i can’t quite put my finger on it.

again, romance novel.

less sardonically - i will say that tts cass has never struck me as an especially lonely person. yes, rapunzel is quite possibly her first ever close friend, but cass also appears to be on pleasant terms with her coworkers and has at least one or two friendships or mentor-type relationships among the guards (stan and pete). animals in tts are anthropomorphized enough to qualify as humans, and cassandra is unequivocally friends with owl and fidella. she is friendly if not friends with at least one coronan citizen (monty). she’s utterly unfazed by crowley’s crabbiness. she’s able to get along with the pub thugs. in vardaros she befriends vex with ease and makes herself right at home among the citizenry at large. there is zero friction between her and lance - at most she rolls her eyes when he’s being ridiculous. and out of the main cast, cassandra is the one who seems closest to varian in s1 - like, she has actual bonding moments with him.

THE POINT BEING, cassandra may not have a lot of close friends, but she is nevertheless personable and demonstrates the ability to adapt herself to suit a variety of social environments. maybe i’m projecting here - i have very few close offline friends because my preference for in-person socialization is for it to be very casual - but taken together this doesn’t scream ‘lonely person’ to me. it instead says ‘person who finds social fulfillment in a wide net of friendly acquaintanceships’ and possibly also ‘person who finds close, emotionally intimate relationships worthwhile but very demanding to maintain, and so seldom or never seeks them out.’

this, absolutely, a very subjective reading of her character - it is just as plausible for cass to be someone who is socially competent but feels inwardly unfulfilled until rapunzel comes along. but even in that reading, this implication that cassandra is as deeply lonely, as thoroughly isolated in corona as rapunzel was in her tower is baldly absurd.

- i think i will have more thoughts about how arianna is characterized and the relationship she and rapunzel have with each other later in the story. for now it feels rather mechanical, and like arianna exists in the story to facilitate cassunzel happening.

- cassandra comes across to me like she has an anxiety disorder written by someone who doesn’t quite know how to convey how that feels? she catastrophizes: what if rapunzel thinks cass attacked her? will she get in trouble? but then she stops to make snide comments about rapunzel’s security detail ‘[falling] down on the job’ and concludes with an impressive amount of certainty that rapunzel isn’t going to make a big deal of it, after all. that… isn’t how anxiety works?

then, immediately, she finds a note from her father scolding her for slacking off—making it clear that she is indeed in trouble, like she feared—and her response is to scoff and throw it away. zero concern about being in trouble. zero worry about the consequences she might face for refusing the pointed “offer” of being rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting. like… this isn’t anxiety. i’m positive it’s meant to convey anxiety, but it comes across as cassandra just being… melodramatic and rude and grumpy. like a teenager. it’s unpleasant. and it bears very little resemblance to tts cass, who expresses a clear and consistent anxiety regarding the security of her job and the looming threat of a convent.

- secondly: “Friedborg reported that you missed your afternoon duties AGAIN. Please be advised that this is unacceptable. The queen is looking for a lady-in-waiting to serve Princess Rapunzel. It would be a great opportunity for you, and you must show the queen how prepared you are to train her in the ways of the court.” i am 100% convinced that howland thought cass was rapunzel’s age or younger. if friedborg is effectively cassandra’s direct supervisor, and she is reporting absences to cassandra’s father instead of addressing this with cassandra directly, the only explanation that makes sense is that cassandra is not of legal age.

- “Ladies don’t wield weapons, lead military strategy meetings, or race on horseback. Ladies do needlework, flower arranging, and hairstyling.”

sighs.

i am not going to argue that corona, in any incarnation, isn’t culturally sexist. it is. there are no women in the guard, no women in trades, no female business owners in the vein of monty or xavier or feldspar. besides rapunzel and arianna - who as the monarch’s spouse has very little in the way of actual political power - there are no women in the upper echelons of the government. besides cassandra, the only gnc women around are criminals. cass is denied even a chance to join the guard for no evident reason, even though her father allows eugene - a man he openly despises - to take the tests and then begrudgingly hires him when he passes. no one sees an issue with this, even though cassandra is demonstrably overqualified.

however.

howland makes this cultural sexism explicit text, and she does so in such a way that it implies something pretty horrifying about the already pretty horrifying corona-saporia unification backstory.

i am talking, of course, about general shampanier. you know, the female saporian general whom herz der sonne married when the two kingdoms were unified. the female saporian general who personally dueled der sonne for hours, according to under raps. the female saporian general who, forget military strategy meetings, led an entire goddamn army. i will accept the possibility that shampanier did not ride horses, because rapunzel’s return suggests that saporians have some sort of cultural objection to that. but this book predates rapunzel’s return by a large margin, and it isn’t canon anyway, so odds are the general shampanier of this story rode a warhorse at some point or another in her illustrious career of being the general of an army!!!

this woman - general shampanier - became the queen, the wife of arguably corona’s most historically important king, at a defining moment in coronan political and cultural history. tts and lost lagoon would both have us believe that this was a romantic, peaceful union between two people and two nations, but a few hundred years later - this. ladies don’t fight. ladies don’t belong in the war tent. ladies don’t ride horses. cass takes these things for granted as facts of life. but general shampanier did all of those things, and she did them extremely well, and she became corona’s queen.

WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED TO SHAMPANIER’S LEGACY?

how did corona go from a warrior-queen to this, in just a few hundred years? the most plausible answer is that the background radiation of sexism and, perhaps, anti-saporian bias was powerful enough to unravel any cultural impact she may have otherwise had, deep enough to render her an outlier, an aberration, an exception to the rule that women do not act like that.

even arguing here that ‘lady’ specifically means ‘noblewoman’ doesn’t add up - because, again, general shampanier became THE QUEEN. you don’t get more noblewoman than that!

it feels unfair to judge this book with details added in season 3—such as the fact that shampanier is evidently not buried with herz der sonne—but this total lack of a cultural impact from general shampanier, queen of corona, feels very telling even without taking those tidbits of extra-textual information into consideration.

and good god, saporia hasn’t even properly entered the narrative yet! this is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg!

*deep breath*

moving. on.

- continuing the theme of cass being a child larping as a guard recruit: she has a closetful of weapons which she maintains to the exacting standards of the handbook, but skips out on her job to “train” in secret because evidently she’ll do ANYTHING to get on the guard except, you know, demonstrate a modicum of responsibility with the job she has now.

- moreover while i think cartography is a neat hobby for cassandra to have, it… doesn’t make a lot of sense if it’s part of some nebulous plan to ~prove herself worthy~ of being on the guard. like, cartography straight up isn’t a relevant skill, and while knowing the countryside could certainly be helpful for guard work in the event a criminal goes to ground in the wilderness, it’s like… it’s like if i applied for my current job, which is in software/tech support, by focusing an intensive amount of energy on teaching myself spanish. fluency in spanish is a useful skill and one that i could turn into an asset within the bounds of my current job, and it might be the deciding factor in me getting hired over someone else with equivalent experience and skill in computing and tech support (which is what the job involves) because, yes, some of our clients are ESL spanish-speakers. but it’s—there’s a disconnect. if i were in a tight competition to get this job i would be pouring my time into sharpening my programming skill and polishing up a portfolio of relevant work. i wouldn’t be devoting hours upon hours to learning spanish. right?

on the other hand—if cartography is a hobby cassandra is passionate about, and she’s 16 or 17 or 18 and she really likes the idea of being on the guard and really feels like she can do it and is bored with her dumb teenager job and desperate to get her dad to make her a guard without actually grasping what being a guard entails or the kind of work it involves or what she actually, realistically needs to do to have a shot, then… yeah, skipping work to play pretend with her weapons and convincing herself that her favorite hobby is totally going to prove to her dad that she’s ready to be a guard!!! makes perfect sense. it’s no different from tts varian tunnel visioning so hard on this fantasy of ‘i’ll surprise my whole village with hot running water and then my dad will be proud of me!!!’ that he neglects basic safety measures and accidentally blows the whole system up. it’s not realistic. it’s a fantasy. it’s play.

- the only time cassandra brings up eugene’s criminal past in tts is to mock him for being a loser. like. literally. the plot of fitzherbert pi kicks off when she calls him a “two-bit hood” and then when he fires back that flynn rider was a LEGEND!!! she fires back “key word being was. and… what is it you do now?” and that’s the only time she brings it up. granted this is 6-7 months into their relationship but… still, frankly i never got the impression that “former thief” was anywhere close to the top of cassandra’s list of reasons for hating eugene. he’s just a dick. she doesn’t like him because he’s a huge selfish jerk and she warms up to him after her starts behaving better.

- rapunzel goes to the ty lee school of flirting. just… laugh really hard at everything your crush says even if it’s not funny.

- despite my… intense and rapidly growing dislike for how cassandra is characterized in this book, her experiencing an actual physical reaction when rapunzel enters her space without permission is good. it’s about the boundaries. it has always been about the boundaries, and rapunzel crossing them, and the intractable messiness that arises from that.

- in fact: how many times does rapunzel cross boundaries in just this one little scene? oh, let me count the ways!

1 - when cassandra goes to shut the door, rapunzel ducks under her arm to enter the room. (eugene attempts to enter as well, but cass succeeds in blocking him.)

2 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s first “go away” hint about only playing individual sports.

3 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s second “go away” hint (“I let the silence get awkward.”)

4 - arranging cassandra’s invitation to the feast of elodie the great with the captain beforehand, so cass can’t use him as an excuse to decline.

5 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s obvious discomfort with this news, taking cassandra’s attendance at the feast as a done deal, and skipping straight to asking cassandra to sit next to her.

6 - in response to cassandra’s very diplomatic signal of not wanting to do that (“I sit wherever I’m assigned”), she declares that she’ll make sure cassandra is assigned to sit next to her.

7 - touching without permission, which makes cassandra flinch.

all of which results in cassandra making what she considers to be a “tactical surrender.” and then shutting and locking her door, because she feels so rattled. as i recall, lagoon is actually a lot mellower on the boundary violations front - and rapunzel actually learns better over the course of the story, which is probably the biggest reason that lost lagoon is not canon and cannot be canon to tts - but it feels worth writing this sort of thing out because, well. it is one of the dead horses i keep clobbering.

#lost lagoon reread #-cries in worldbuilding-#rta

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beholdme · 4 years ago

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2]

In the following weeks, as he sees Jon a few more times, Gerry's hair fades out and he looks rather more 'forest nymph' than 'American Gothic'.

So it's not much of a shock when the next time Jon catches sight of Gerry striding through the library stacks, his hair has been re-coloured. This time it's a smooth buttery yellow and Jon is struck by how young the warm, bright colour makes him look.

Gerry doesn't feel young though, he feels tired and bored and wrung out, and he wishes he had never agreed to take art commissions.

"It's only the one time!" Gertrude had insisted to a very put upon Gerry, very early in the morning. "And if he puts in a good word for you in his circles, your name will really be on the map in the art world."

Gerry wasn't particularly interested in being put on any maps, or being picked apart by rich, stuck up strangers, but he had agreed to try, mostly because Gertrude had put a lot of effort into making his passion for art an actual career and he felt like he owed her.

(He forgets, frequently, just how much of a commission she takes on the sales of his paintings).

So there he was, striding around the library at 7 am and desperately looking for exactly the right reference book. Unfortunately, it has been out of print for years, and Gerry can't seem to find a copy anywhere that won't cost him half a liver. He has the money now, but he refuses to pay half a month's rent to a second-hand retailer on principle.

Jon watches him skulk around for so long, (apparently forgetting that he is, in fact, a librarian) that Sasha comes out from her desk to ask Gerry if he's looking for something specific. She's wearing her big round glasses today and even indulged herself in her favorite waistcoat to beat the Monday blues.

"Why, yes." At this, Gerry looks directly up at Jon, where he is standing and watching him from the upper balcony level. Jon's face burns, and he ducks out of sight, but not earshot. "I do actually come here to borrow books, not boys." And he smartly feeds her the name of the reference book he has been hunting for almost an hour.

Sasha giggles at his antics, "We do have a copy of that, actually, but it's very popular. There's a waitlist; also it's checked out right now."

Gerry's whole demeanor sags and he sighs in defeat. "Guess I really will just have to order it off the internet, then." He eyes the stacks of books, old and new, looking vaguely betrayed.

"No!" Sasha's exclamation takes everyone a bit aback, being that they are in a library and all. "You know, my mate has this sweet little bookstore, and he loves hunting down rare copies of older books, he might have a copy?" She wrings her hands, eyebrows raised in question.

Gerry beams down at her, causing even stoic Sasha to blush and scurry off to get a piece of paper for the address.

They're already most of the way to the front desk by the time Jon realizes just which bookstore Sasha is busy recommending to the man he is dating , and just who owns that particular establishment.

By the time he manages to get downstairs to try to deflect the situation, Gerry is out the door, nothing left but the faint scent of oil paints and leather from his jacket.

***

Tim Stoker leaves Gerry feeling faintly dazed. By the time he stumbles out of the bookstore and into the tea room, elusive book in hand, he's forgotten everything he has ever known in the face of such intense flirting. And Gerry thought he was bad.

Throughout the whole episode at the library, the walk through Chelsea, and the exchange with Tim, Gerry had never once taken a moment to consider that Sasha's friend with a bookstore and Jon's Martin with a bookstore might be the same person.

He chooses to blame the lack of sleep and general disarray that is his life for the oversight.

Which is how, 9:30 in the morning, having been awake for almost 24 hours and completely finished, Gerry walks up to Martin in his tea room and says, "I'll have whatever is pink and in that jug, please. The biggest you've got."

Martin, of course, recognized him immediately. He would have recognized Jon's gothic childhood boyfriend from his social media stalking alone, but Jon's frantic texting was also a pretty big giveaway.

Martin: Relax, I don't bite clients this early in the morning. He's in safe hands with me.

Jon: HE KNOWS THINGS ABOUT ME. Besides, who's gonna stop him from biting you?

Martin: Whatever he has to tell me can’t possibly be worse than the office gossip I heard about you before we even meet.

Jon: W H A T

Now, here Gerry is before him, and he’s quite pleased with what he sees. Even tired and vaguely dazed, his presence in the little room carries a certain energy that Martin enjoys.

"Right away. Take a seat and I'll call you with it." Martin's voice is sweet, but gentle and firm, in a comforting sort of way. Through Gerry's sleepy haze, the instruction makes perfect sense, although he has neither paid nor offered a call name.

Gerry considers taking a seat on the plush bench that occupies one wall, before deciding that he desperately needs a cigarette, and wandering outside.

Technically he is only supposed to smoke at night when he's painting and needs just the right kind of boost, but he decides to call this one since he's on a painting-based errand when he's supposed to be sleeping.

"Gerry?" He turns toward the sound of his name, to find the barista offering him a large to-go cup of what he assumes is fruit ice tea. He frowns at having his name known (his new, much-preferred name, no less) and then frowns at a blonde, bespectacled man in a tea room attached to a bookstore.

His brain finally takes a moment to function, and he puts all the pieces together in an avalanche.

"Martin?" Far from his usual self-confident tone, the single word comes out in a squeak that would make even a toddler wince.

"Yes?" Martin returns the single word in the same solidly reassuring way, and even offers a happy smile.

"I didn't... I didn't recognize you."

"Would be pretty hard for you, considering this is the first we've ever met." Martin's voice is calming in a way that eases Gerry a bit, teasing and all.

"Thank you. For the tea, I mean." Gerry closes his eyes and desperately begs his shit to pull together for him, just this one time. "It's nice to finally meet you."

His hands are fully occupied with a book, a cup of tea, and a cigarette, but Martin doesn't seem particularly bothered by the lack of a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you too. We're giving Jon a heart attack by doing it without him."

"That is the lawful good," Gerry says, after a long drag of his smoke. "A panicked Jon is a happy Jon, after all. Whatever would he do with himself without a situation to unnecessarily complicate?"

"Yes, the man does seem to thrive on anxiety, doesn't he?" Martin asks warmly, eyes crinkling around a fond smile. "Speaking of, you seem pretty wrecked yourself. Good party, I hope."

Gerry's answering laugh has a razor edge, "Not hardly. This fucking painting I'm working on will be the death of me." Gerry lifts the reference book as proof of trauma and stabs out his cigarette viciously.

"Hmm, sounds like a pain. I hope you typically find art a more enjoyable career?" Martin asks, tilting his head inquisitively. His curly hair moves fetchingly and Gerry catches himself tracking the movement.

"Mostly, yes. Although I keep the bartending gig for variety. You'd be amazed at the sort of inspiration someone can find in the right drunk crowd." Gerry grins, thinking of all the ridiculous things he’d seen walk in and out of the bar in his run there.

"I'd be very interested to see what kind of art you can turn that into. Maybe you'd like to show me sometime?" Martin's words are open and friendly.

Gerry eyes him for a minute, hiding behind a long taste of his drink. He's trying to suss out Martin's motivations, for his kindness and general geniality. The drink is good and it tips Gerry's mood far enough back into cheerfulness that he shrugs off his considerations for the time being.

"You know what," Gerry quips back. "I think I would like to show you sometime. How 'bout tonight."

It's not a question really, with Gerry's typical force of personality behind it, and he leaves the shop with Martin holding an address in his hand and a time to drag Jon over for dinner that evening.

***

Gerry does not make a big deal of Martin coming over. He acts as if any other friend is coming over for dinner.

He tidies, a little. Lights a few candles. Wears pants. The bare minimum really.

He isn't trying to impress anyone, he tells himself sternly.

Except he is, obviously. He doesn't know Martin very well yet, but he does want to keep Jon around, and they are a packaged deal these days. Which he was happy with, truly.

In their limited interaction, Martin had been sweet and put Gerry instantly at ease. He knows, from many years of working a bar, how to spot a dipshit, and feels confident in his assessment of Martin's character.

But, it's his own character that concerns him. People don't always like Gerry past surface interactions. He can be tempestuous and moody, and catching him tired is a pretty bad idea. The combination of artist and mommy issues can be jarring.

He desperately wants those things to not bother Martin though. He wants Martin to like him, and he's not interested in putting on a show to make it happen.

It occurs to Gerry an hour before they're due that he doesn't even remotely know what takeout to order for dinner.

(He knows what Jon will eat, and he obviously knows what he likes, but what about Martin? Why didn't he ask this morning? Why didn't he ask Jon earlier?)

Gerry is just starting to really panic about all the life choices leading up to this moment, when he gets a text from an unknown number, instantly filling him with relief.

Martin: Since you're hosting this time, I'll grab the take-out. Jon says you like Thai, I'll bring that. You got the drinks covered?

Gerry: As long as you drink either coffee, vodka, or water, yes.

Martin: I'm sorry, I subsist only on the blood of virgins.

Gerry: Oh dear. I couldn't tempt you to settle for Earl Grey?

Martin: Hmmm, yes, I'll accept your offerings this time.

***

The first knock comes right on time. Gerry, dressed in his best paint-stained jeans and cherry blossom kimono, opens the door with a flourish.

Martin allows himself to be welcomed in and hands the food off to the dramatic artist, who deposits it on the table where he has already set the tea tray.

"No Jon? Not that I mind quality ‘us’ time, of course."

Martin is busy taking in the rambling studio space and barely spares the attention to respond, although he manages a blush at the flirty tone. "He's, uh, running late. Work stuff. You know Jon."

Gerry smirks at that. "I do indeed. Is it a 'stumble in at 3am' late, or 'we could probably wait to eat' late?"

"Hmmm? Oh, let's wait a bit? If you don't mind." Martin seems equally taken with his painting wall and his book wall and keeps trading his attention between the two. The paintings, being the larger attraction, eventually win, and he meanders over to study them closer.

"Do you keep all the completed paintings around?" His voice is soft and reverent, and Gerry feels a rush of pride for his work.

"For a while. I like to make sure they're in their final forms before I release them into the wild." Martin blinks big brown eyes at him, before grinning and giggling slightly.

"You're very talented. Jon said as much, showed me the pictures, but words and photos are nothing compared to seeing the real thing." Martin really regards his paintings as if they're special, and rather than the prickly feeling of appraisal he feels during gallery nights, it fills Gerry with warmth.

He turns to examine the wall himself. It's filled with an eclectic group at the moment. Large abstracts made by pouring paint and then layering designs over, three-dimensional pieces painted and then embroidered or quilled over in select places, including a particularly wild eye design. Surreal faces and scenes that seem realistic except for the wild subject matter of planets in meadows and chimeras going to battle.

"Is this what comes from your adventures in bartending?" Martin asks Gerry, turning from the wall and towards the slightly taller man.

"That, and my traumatic childhood." Gerry makes sure to laugh at the last, taking the edge off the small confession.

"Obviously." Martin offers.

"Obviously." Gerry accepts.

***

Gerry and Martin drink tea on the floor while they wait for Jon. Gerry gently prods Martin through the story of how he came to open the bookstore. The blonde man even softly confessing that he had to lie on his CV to get the librarian gig at Magnus.

"How old are you? How did you convince them you had a Master's degree?" Gerry is incredulous. Not that he doesn't think Martin could have an advanced degree. But in paranormal research? Gerry hadn't even known that was an option.

"That's the thing! I'm only 29 now . I worked there for five years!" Martin's voice pitches up in disbelief. "I'm still in shock that anyone ever brought it. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

"I do, actually." Gerry shifts slightly, adjusting his balance with the long remembered urge to flee from those desperate times. He fiddles with his teacup to distract himself. He brought this particular set from a pawn shop because the filigree and florals appealed to his love of colour theory. Soft pinks and corals warm against the cool aqua background.

"Jon says you wanted to go to art school when you two were younger."

It's not a question, but merely Martin offering the same space for openness that Gerry had given him.

"I never went. After my A-levels, I had to get away, and I never really stopped moving for long enough to go to uni when I was younger. Now I'm settled and it's not important to me anymore. Besides, no one asks for a copy of my phantom degree when I sell a painting. So I'm happy with how things turned out for the most part." He stops to consider the outline of a possible past for a moment, one where he didn't have to skip college and go ten years without seeing Jon. "Besides, can you imagine a 27-year-old in art school? The young ones would sacrifice me for more creative talent."

Their eyes meet for a moment, and then they laugh easily and move on to different topics, sliding through the easy stages of getting to know each other.

***

Jon does eventually arrive, looking panicked and harried. He de-ages 10 years when he finds them laughing and relaxed instead of tense and awkward.

So, the three of them eat cold Thai take out on the floor of Gerry's loft, leaning against the perfectly good couch. They share the odd intimacy of people who have known each other for very disjointed amounts of time but like each other just the same.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #tma #fic #also on ao3

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shingekicornwrites · 4 years ago

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Agricultural Werewolves, pt 1

Fandom/Tags: Hero Academia, alternate universe/werewolves, mentions of past bullying, Counseling, Bakugou Katsuki Faces Consequences, modern fantasy, unreliable narrator, Katsuki is kind of an asshole please don’t take his commentary as my opinion or truth

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki/Anger Management Counseling, future Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, future Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

A/N: This is just a fun au full of wholesome farming, but also boys dealing with issues and a whole lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and attempts to heal. Please enjoy

Not all farmers are werewolves, but many werewolves are farmers. For some reason this fact makes no sense to people who don’t know werewolves. For everyone else it makes perfect sense.

Werewolves have to eat a lot.

As in: the number one drain of money in werewolf houses is filling the cabinets enough to keep all members of the family healthy. Creatures who change shape with regularity, who shift their bodies and have immense strength that burns calories faster than they can blink, have to maintain an intake that allows them to function without their bodies resorting to eating itself. Even werewolves who don’t change all that often, either out of preference or a lack of opportunity, have to eat more than their human peers or suffer symptoms of starvation.

Hence: werewolves are farmers.

It is infinitely easier to exist outside of poverty when werewolves, congregated into their own communities, make the food themselves instead of buying it all at the nearest grocer. They raise and cut the meats themselves. They grow the appropriate fruits and vegetables that balance their diets. They sell the portions according to their needs as opposed to human needs. It only makes sense that they do things this way.

They control the food market. They have space to run to their hearts content without worrying about bothering human neighbors. They make the rules for their communities with the standards they need, instead of standards written by people who don’t understand how they function. Government approved wolf reserves more often become farmland than anything else.

Werewolves are farmers, and statistically they’re more likely to be happy that way.

This statistic does not account for Bakugou Katsuki.

At the moment, he is the furthest thing from happy.

“This place smells like shit.”

Normally he’d be cuffed upside the head for that. Instead his mom just looks at him, with that fucking pity in her eyes that hasn’t left in days, and frowns. Katsuki pointedly doesn’t look back and continues staring out the window at the trees and dust being kicked up by the tires.

“That’s the chicken houses. It is pretty rancid,” she says. Acting like she’s not on her way to get rid of her mess and wash her hands of it. “Ah, there’s the gates. Kind of nostalgic.”

The gate marking the Kiyashi Wolf Reserve is flanked by stone wolves howling at the sky in unison. Their car passes them by with no fanfare and Katsuki growls at the town beyond.

It’s as unimpressive as he thought it’d be. A town in the middle of Fuckoff Nowhere, with nothing to its name and a bunch of people who will die there the same nobodies they were born as. All it has to show are a bunch of old ass buildings for tourists and a stupid shrine. Their car slows down once they pass the gates and Katsuki gets a good, long look at the shitty little storefronts lining the main street. His mom makes some weird noise when she sees them and starts yammering again.

“Oh, I’ve missed this.” She eases up on the gas as the traffic increases, slowing down to turn her head and look at a restaurant that’s filling the car with some kind of greasy meat smell. “That place over there makes the best dango. And there’s this cartilage karaage that’s so delicious—they pile the plate high, too. I forgot how much I missed getting the big portions. City eating just doesn’t give you enough.”

Katsuki huffs, glaring at a group of bumpkin kids who stare at their car as they walk past. “S’at why you left? Got cankles?”

Once again, no cuffing comes. Not even a growl. His mom just frowns with that fucking look again and doesn’t do anything.

“Better business in the bigger towns. Oh my, that store is still there? God, I used to go there every week to blow my paychecks. It looks even nicer than when I left it.”

They pass the shitty little boutique and she smiles at it, taking a left when the main road ends and humming at all the ancient scenery. There’s more old as shit buildings, more little shops and restaurants—more kids staring at their nice car and whispering to each other, which is just fucking great. There’s signs for the local shrine next to fox statues lining the side of the road and Katsuki makes a face at each one as they pass. This whole town looks like it hasn’t had a pulse in decades.

“Do you remember the Midoriyas, hon?” his mom asks as she takes another turn. “They left when you were small, around first grade.”

He thinks back and the memories come to the surface easily. Kindergarten had been spent running around followed by lackeys, catching bugs, making a mess of the local playground, and...huh, right. A face pops back into his mind. Freckles and curls, big green eyes, crying all the goddamn time because he had no spine and didn’t get that he wasn’t wanted around.

“Deku?” the name pops up before he can think too hard about it. Deku. The little snot who yelled too much and probably still wet the bed when he moved away. Useless little Deku.

“That’s not his name,” the hag nags him, jogging him out of the trip through memory lane.

Katsuki scoffs. “It’s what he was.”

“Katsuki,” she starts, finally seeming a little more like herself before she sighs and buries it deep. “Izuku and his mother moved here when they left. Inko’s offered to take you in while you’re here.”

So he’s gonna be under the care of the family with the worlds biggest crybaby? “Great.”

“It is great. You know her, a little. You and Izuku could catch up. Plus, Inko has a little business now. This old ryokan got turned into the local youth hostel, and it’s all under her name now since the old owner retired. It sounds very relaxing. Isn’t that nice?” His mom smiles, like this is actually good news, and it’s disgusting.

“I’m gonna die of boredom,” Katsuki mutters. He looks back out the window and there’s old people with baskets of vegetables just walking next to the road like they want to be hit by a car. Christ this place sucks.

“Don’t say that. This town has a ton of stuff to keep you occupied. You can run around to your hearts content and nothing’ll stop you.”

He lets his head rest against the glass and hopes the vibrations from the shitty road will concuss him. “Wheeee.”

“You’ll like it,” His mom promises. She’d also promised he’d be a winner, and here she is ripping him away from his top school of choice. So he thinks she can take that promise and fucking shove it.

The road gets tinier and the car slows down, with his mom squinting at each building as they pass and muttering under her breath. There are more old people with vegetables and stupid hick kids running around. The car slows to a stop at a break in whatever pathetic excuse for a sidewalk this town has lining its roads, shutting off as the hag smiles at the old ass building next to them.

“There it is,” she breathes.

It looks as shitty as he thought it would. Old, traditional, with weathered wood one good termite away from crumbling and an ancient sign trying to pass for new with a fresh coat of paint slapped on. Small for a ryokan, too, which is probably why it got sold off. There are planters surrounding the front entrance filled with flowers, where a pudgy little figure is hunched over and pulling weeds.

The hag doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle and climb out, shouting over the top of the car. “Inko!”

The pudgy woman turns around and drops the clippers in her hand. Katsuki doesn’t move to get out. He remembers her face. He remembers her taller, presenting snacks and endless bandages for her crybaby son. He remembers seeing her less and less before she was gone altogether. The short, heavy woman he’s looking at how doesn’t resemble her at all. She’s in dirty jeans and flannel, with a handkerchief tied around her head to keep her hair back and rubber boots caked in mud tracking mess all over the walkway.

Damn, Auntie let herself go.

“Mitsuki?” Inko asks, before throwing herself forward to give his mom a running hug. “Oh my—I thought you weren’t due until later!”

“Traffic was a lot lighter than I thought it’d be.” His mom laughs, as if it’s just a stupid social visit and not her dumping her goddamn kid to cover up a mess. “Look at you! You’re radiant! Kiyashi must be treating you well.”

Katsuki resists the urge to double take. His mother is a shit liar.

Inko just smiles. “It’s all the hiking. I had no idea how much fresh air makes you feel better.”

“Oh, I know. I felt like I couldn’t breathe after I left, city air is disgusting.” His mom makes a face. “How are you and the kids doing?”

“Wonderful. Izuku’s out working right now.”

“No foolin? Feels like yesterday he was learning to walk.”

“They grow up so fast.” Inko finally looks over and spots Katsuki slouched in his seat. “Is that Katsuki?”

He growls. She doesn’t even look phased.

“Yep,” his mother nods, then for the first time since this trip started she raises her voice. “Oi! Get out of the car and be sociable!”

He bares his teeth—fuck her, fuck this trip, fuck this stupid hick town—but opens the door. He makes sure to slam it shut. Just because he can. And he wants everyone to know he thinks this whole thing is a pile of shit. Especially the hag, who just glares at him but refuses to yell, even though he knows she wants to.

She always wants to. She always does. This stupid fucking pity game is going to drive him insane, why the hell does she think shutting up is gonna work?

“You’ve gotten so big,” Inko fawns, looking up at him with a big smile. “I bet you barely remember me, huh?”

“He does,” his mother deadpans. There’s a silent threat while Inko isn’t looking to at least greet her, but he responds to that with a sneer that just makes her shake her head. Instead of yelling, once again, she turns her focus to Inko. “Thank you again for this.”

“Oh, it’s no issue at all. The hostel doesn’t just exist for tourism,” Inko deflects. Katsuki looks at the hostel with another critical eye and snorts. Of course it isn’t for tourism. The whole place looks like shit. Tourists who pay for this must be idiots. “Katsuki, dear, I have a room set up for you. It has your name on it so you can go ahead and start loading your things in if you want.”

Finally, an excuse to get out of this. He yanks the car door open and grabs for his first few bags, eager to get away from sight for a few minutes. The women just keep blabbering on about nothing like he’s not even there.

“How’s the boarder?” his mom asks as Katsuki hauls his duffel bag out.

“Oh, he’s doing well. He’s at the shrine now.”

“That’s two working boys, then—“

It’s nothing to load two bags over his shoulders and get away. Leave the biddies to their gossip, he thinks. It’s the only thing they’re good for.

The inside of the hostel is...less shitty. Huh. Maybe that’s how it stayed in business. Katsuki kicks off his shoes and puts on the slippers set out with a scowl, surveying what’s visible past the entryway. The floors are polished wood, the insides done up so that everything looks bright and new. There’s a lounge right next to the entrance that’s been done up to be more teen friendly—a gaming console and a TV, a little fridge with a clear door filled with drinks, and a few bean bag chairs—he bypasses it with a huff and makes his way toward the rooms.

There’s a courtyard. The doors are open, letting him get a good look at the tree and flowers planted to look all pretty. He doesn’t see any people, though.

He passes rooms with no name on them. Empty, empty, empty—how the hell does Auntie keep this place in business? At first it’s nothing. Then it starts getting annoying.

Empty, empty, empty.

Empty.

Motherfucker.

He circles the place twice and can’t find anything. No sign. No name. Just empty rooms in a shitty hostel in a shitty hick town and his own shitty breathing because why the hell has he had to carry the bags for this long?

The next time he finds his way back to the lounge he yells in frustration, kicking a chair. He’s about to ditch the bags and run through the place when he turns just a little too quickly and his duffel bag hits someone in the shoulder.

Katsuki bares his teeth before he can think about it. “Oi! Watch it!”

The stranger stumbles back. It’s some hick kid, in a dirty t-shirt and ratty baseball hat. His arms—thicker than expected for someone shorter than Katsuki is, with a fucked up hand that looks like it’s made of scar tissue—are carrying a wooden box filled to the brim with vegetables and paper wrapped packages that smell like blood and raw meat.

“Sorry about that—“ the stranger steadies himself, hefting the box up and stepping back. He’s too busy making sure nothing from the box is falling to even look at the guy he’s apologizing too, the asshole. “Are you lost?”

“No!” Katsuki barks.

“Well, it’s alright if you are, I just—“ the stranger meets Katsuki’s eyes and his own widen. “...wait.”

Katsuki bristles. Then something starts to churn, in his head. The stranger has big green eyes.

Big green eyes, and freckles. Familiar patterns speckled all over his face. Wild curls are attempting to escape out from under the hat, pasted to his forehead from sweat. If the hat wasn’t on it would be the same wild mass of uncontrollable coils that he remembers.

The last time he saw that face was years ago, out the back of a car as it drove away.

“Kacchan?” Deku asks, bigger and thicker and smelling like wolf in a way he definitely didn’t in first grade.

What the fuck?

#My Hero Academia #Boku No Hero Academia #Bakugou Katsuki #Midoriya Izuku #Hero Academia fic #skell writes #agricultural werewolves au

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