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wilwheaton · 4 months ago

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hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

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mysticheathenn · 4 months ago

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Messages From Your Mental Prison

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about your mental health and the state of how you view the world and everything that is going on in your life. This could be about your depression, Anxiety, or even suicidal thoughts. Read with caution as this reading may have triggers.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

TW Ahead Read With Caution

Pile l:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed), 9 of Swords, 4 of Swords (reversed), 10 of Cups (reversed), Justice

This reminds me of the TikTok clip of the voice screaming "It's not fair. It's not fair." reminding me of how many people have probably told you that you handle stress and everyday life so well but little do they know your mental state is literally one inconvenience away from having a mental breakdown. Stress and anxiety practically camp out in your mind on a daily basis pile l. You can't seem to escape it, it's all you have known for quite a while and you're tired. There is a saying that "There is no sleep for the wicked" Well in your case "There is no sleep for the poor or those who lack the resources to pull themselves up in their life." All you want in life is enough to pay your bills and a little extra for savings and be able to do something with your life like try a new hobby without feeling guilty for spending money that isn't on "important" things like survival. You probably have been in survival mode for quite some time now and wondering when will you see a breakthrough. You're tired of being tired. You're tired of practically playing Russian roulette with your bills of which one can you not pay for this month. One thing I will say pile l is even though things may seem bleak please don't give up, I sense things will get better financially for you. Sometimes in life you just need to find your footing for things to take off.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Seek out information that will help you out, A Journey either physical or mental, unsettled times. Need to plan ahead, Announcement, Get back to the basics.

Pile l your extra message oracles make me believe that you feel lost, maybe even stuck for some of you with no clue in the world of how to better your situation or go about life. You have the get back to the basics card which sticks out to me like a sore thumb letting the game know that I sense you may be the type who always tries to do those get-rich-and-quick schemes like drop shipping or anything else you see that pops up on your social media feed and it never works out for whatever reason. You want to know why....it's because you aren't supposed to be doing that. That's not your path to riches. You have the 8 of Pentacles and 10 of Cups card but it's reversed meaning you are meant to have emotional and financial fulfillment you just need to stop and get back to the basics. What basics mystic? What is it that has been drawing or calling you in? What is something you keep putting off or not doing because you believe based on society and family it won't make you any money? For most of you, this is what you need to be doing. For others of you, you will be going on a journey where you need to find this out. Figure out what feeds your soul that you would do for free and do that but add tax. You are meant to freelance and be your own boss, not working for other people. Overall this is a journey process for you pile l. You will deal with more hard times as you figure this out but remember this journey is temporary to where you want to be, so keep pushing. An answer if it hasn't already will come to you.

Pile ll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Hermit, Page of Swords (reversed), Queen of Cups, 10 of Wands, 10 of Swords (reversed)

When was the last time you nurtured yourself or spent time alone and really tried to heal and nurture yourself with positive thoughts pile ll. It's a never-ending cycle of you constantly bombarding yourself with cruel words that aren't true. This reminds me slightly of the reading I posted titled Mystery pt. ll. But overall this feeling of yours feels more so as if the world has its weight on your shoulders and you feel as if you are a burden to those around you. You may live at home, with roommates, or feel that you constantly are asking anyone and everyone around you for help as if you can't do anything for yourself and you're tired. You're ready to be able to be independent without having to rely on others. Maybe others have made you feel bad as well for asking for help when you are down on your luck to where you just feel crushed, stuck, unable to move in a direction because one way people will make you feel bad for your predicament and the other hand you will make yourself feel bad because you feel whatever this is you should be able to do by yourself but can't because life is tough right now. As I mentioned in pile l you need to get back to the basics. Get back to the basics of life and take things one step at a time. You are doing the best you can with what you have and don't let anyone make you feel bad about that.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Position of authority, August, Someone you know is undependable and insincere, Slowly but surely getting ahead. Pay attention to your work, Good Fortune.

As mentioned your life while it maybe chaotic at the moment everything is a journey and slowly but surely things will get better and you will get ahead eventually. With the Position of authority I am seeing this in two ways some of you should pay attention to your work as there may be a position available for you in management where you can make more money this may happen around or sometime in August. If not within the company you work maybe this is an invitation to be your own boss or look elsewhere for higher positions especially if you have more than enough qualifications. For others of you, this position of authority is letting you know that you are the boss of your own life and have complete control of what goes on and who is in it. Never let people who claim to be friends or family make you feel bad for being on hard times. They aren't who they say they are and you should move accordingly with that information. Overall Good Fortune is in your cards by the end of this rough patch. You just need to focus and hone in on ways you can do more within your life with the resources of which you have. Again this could be moving up in the company or going elsewhere, where advancement is an option.

Pile lll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Star, The Sun, Ace of Pentacles (reversed), The Fool (reversed), Awakening

Pile lll, my babies, it's time to allow yourself to be seen by the world. It's time to stop hiding in the shadows allowing life to pass you by. You can't keep yourself in the mental prison of feelings of imposter syndrome, fear of judgment, etc. Life wants to give you financial blessings, especially with the Ace of Pentacles in Reversed but you are blocking them because you aren't doing what needs to be done. This could be you starting a YouTube channel, being a content creator on social media, writing a book or screenplay/ maybe even fanfiction for some of you, others this might just be you hiding from a promotion that you deeply desire but feel you lack experience, knowledge, etc. Whatever this is for you, you have to release the thoughts that plague your mind and go for the thing that puts you in front of everyone. Yes at first you may make mistakes or look cringe or whatever the issue may be but that's how everything is when you first jump deep into something. You make mistakes and people will talk...but you want to know something life moves on and the world doesn't end. Seriously do the thing, it's time. You will beat yourself up if others take the things that you want for yourself and you want to know something you have no one to blame but yourself because you decided to not do what needs to be done. Write the book. Film yourself. Apply for better jobs even if you think you are not qualified. Have you heard of the girl who applied to jobs she had no business doing and ended up getting hired making $100k a year...that could be you right now but you are stuck listening to self-doubt and the thoughts of what others will say. Storytime: I knew that I didn't want to continue working at whatever job I was working at back in 2015 so when my friend and I figured out that employers don't check a lot of your information we applied for positions that would pay us well and you want to know something the resume I lied on got me so far in life to where I was Assistant GM of hotels at one point. All because I believed I could do what others were doing in the hotel industry even without a lick of experience. Did I mess up in the beginning, yes. Did I care...no because I was doing more good than harm so no one really questioned if I lied or not. You have to take the jump. Do the thing.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Short Journey, Back to Basics, Work achievement & success, TIME TO ACT, Someone is extremely stubborn and unwilling to change, Protected from negative forces beyond your control, Solid foundation success with effort, waiting for news package or letter, A meeting with a strange could be important.

Pile lll do you see the amount of synchronicities in your oracle reading. Spirit is coming through loud and clear that you need to get out of your stubbornness and began acting on your dreams, goals, and desires. You are protected from anything that could try and take what this is away from you. Even with a solid foundation success with effort is telling you "Hey if you do the thing you will not fail because you are protected." Now this goes without saying that you won't deal with some challenges because that's life what it is saying is you will come out on top and the journey for you won't be a long one if you just do the effort that it takes. Spirit will do the rest if you just do what needs to be done.

Pile lV:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Empress, Queen of Pentacles, 5 of Swords (reversed), 8 of Swords (reversed), 6 of Wands

You are victorious pile lV your only problem is that you don't believe you are worth a pot to piss in a lot of the time. Even with the Empress and Queen of Pentacles card here letting me know how nurturing, giving, empathetic, and even resourceful you are you don't see any good things about yourself. You remind me of people who speak negatively about themselves not knowing that their actions speak the opposite. You can't say you don't care but your actions speak another language. You can't put yourself down but then be upset when life mirrors your thoughts. Deep down you know how amazing you are and the many great things that you can do, but for some strange reason you recently for some of you while others of you this has been going on for a while where you constantly hold yourself to such a low standard and critic everything that you do. Why is that? Where did it begin? How can you remove this person or thing that made you feel this way? For some of you, this may have been a relationship (platonic, romantic, or familial) that made you feel self-critical of yourself because they felt something about themselves. You must remember that when people speak unkind things to you that it's a reflection of themselves and not you. You don't have to take what others think of you and run with it as if they are true because they are not. A scene that comes to mind is when the mom in Black Swan says "What happened to my little girl?" What happened to you that made you feel and think these thoughts to yourself and how can you get back to the Empress and Queen of Pentacle energy.

Extra Messages: Manifestation Oracle Cards: Wellbeing, Empowerment, Strength

How can you today give yourself the love that you deserve? Is it a DIY spa day? A trip to a therapist or talk with a trusted friend? How can you show up for yourself in ways that you haven't before that will make you see the person you are? Have the strength and courage to stand up to anyone who makes you feel any less than what and who you are. For a few of you, you may be a part of the LBGTQ+ community and others around you have made you feel different, a "freak" or whatever insecurity that you question your existence. There is a quote by Elenor Roosevelt that says "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." Please don't let assholes who were raised by baboons let you lower yourself or feel anything less than amazing, beautiful, and authentically you. Regardless of how you feel about yourself find something in your life, day, or something as small as a freckle on your face that you love and keep bringing more of that energy in for you and keep your head up. This feeling is only temporary, things will get better.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

#spirituality #witchblr #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot cards #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #pick a picture #pick a photo

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threepandas · 21 days ago

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Bad End: Games Played

As children, we learn to play the Quite Game.

It's rather simple. You scrunch down real small, ball yourself real tight, and find the bestest most hard to reach hiding spot you can! Then? Oh THEN, children, we all get really, REALLY quite. Until mummy or daddy find you. And no matter what, no matter WHO, you Do Not Move, until THEY come and find you.

Not for treats. Not for hugs. Not for threats or scary noises.

No. Matter. What.

To the others, it was a game. But to me? Born just a bit... different? I looked my parents in the eyes, saw the fear that lived there. That hunted them and haunted their dreams. I watched the way they acted. Guarding me. Never letting me wander. Keeping me between them as they slept. Holding me, shielding me. Both whispering their lessons, their love, each moment they could.

And I knew it was no game.

I was an obedient child. Perhaps that is why I lived, where others did not.

Or perhaps? It was my vague, half remembered, knowledge of this world. To be more exact, the chronological series of Otome games, set in this world. Endless streams of political and social clusterfucks, that cast the map into conflict after conflict, all for the selfish romances of a few. Pseudo-historical straight to pseudo-modern magical realism.

Clans of mages. Elves, werewolves, the whole shebang. All trapped in an endless cycle of conflict. Sometimes silent, sometimes open. Always, soaked in blood.

But hey... at least the Protagonist is happy! Right?

We should be furious. We should HATE them.

Our Clan? Did shadow magic. Unfortunately. Because unsurprisingly, Otome troupes ran true, and we? Have a complete Edgy Little Fuckboi as our Clan Heir. Worse still, I RECOGNIZE that Edgy Little Fuckboi! The fucking chuunibyou is a romance target!

I'm sorry, I was under the impression the Clan Heir's job was to KEEP US ALL ALIVE! Not get your DICK WET! But, my bad! My fucking MISTAKE! How COULD I have BEEN so foolish! You go on, then! Just piss RIGHT off, and leave the rest of us to suffer, while you chase SOMEONE ELSE'S GIRLFRIEND!

Fuckwit!

Ha ha.... oh god. We're all gonna die. Aren't we?

We should trust Alphard. No one else understands us.

Everyone? Absolutely fucking EVERYONE? Waves it off. 'Just a phase' and 'he's young, he'll get it out of his system'. As though the problems doesn't run deeper. As though the Clan Head isn't an old man, barely holding us together. As though he isn't planning to hand it all over to a chuunibyou who refuses to sit still and LEARN ANYTHING. Who picks fights he expects US to win for him. Expects US to die for him.

So he can look 'cool'.

Alphard is basicly running this place. But does the Clan Head care? No. Because Alphard is a 'half-breed'. Because ALPHARD has the audacity to be, what? Fire Mage?! Oh dear god! Not ANOTHER GROUP OF HUMANS!? Gasp! Shock! Someone call the fantasy church! Fuckers.

Ooooh but their TEMPER! Everyone knows how UNSTABLE they are!

We should show them 'Unstable'. Make them regret what they've done.

'Bout to see up close and in person MY 'temper' and 'unstable' fuckin BOOT, old man!

No, I don't care if that made sense! Shut up! Fuck you! I get to be upset, okay!? This is nepotism and it's dangerous! And... and NO ONE LISTENS TO ME! It's like they're merrily marching towards a cliff and calling ME paranoid for pointing it out! Telling me to calm down. To stop exaggerating. It's a CLIFF!

The only one who listens? Is Alphard.

Alphard is our friend. Alphard listens to us. We should Trust Alphard.

Storming towards his office, shadows writhing in my wake, I seriously wonder. Would I have gone completely apeshit by now with out him? Left the clan? I don't know how he can bear it. The weight of their stubbornness. Their wilful blindness, which IS going to get people hurt. Killed. Probably already fuckin has.

How many more clansmen do we have to LOSE?

They'd tucked him away in some side wing, like some dirty little family secret. I'd always hated it. Big whoop! He gets two powers instead of one! Jealous ass little shits. It was fear and politics. I KNEW it was! He refused to say so, but I KNEW. And no amount of pained smiles and changing the subject would make me drop it!

It wasn't RIGHT.

God, the more time went on? The angrier I felt about it. The more it burned me. Ate me up inside. It's like my temper just...? Gah! Fuck this and fuck THEM! We don't need them! We should leave! Just the two of us. Go and never com-!

.....wait a second... that's not... right....

My head pounds with the worst sort of migraine. Shadows hissing like angry cats, as they crawled viciously around my head. Chasing whisps of something they can't seem to catch. I stopped between hallways. In one of our Clan's many, MANY shady areas. Leaning more into the darkness... helped. Made my head hurt less.

God, I've got to talk to talk to Alphard about this. It's starting to really worry me. The anger, the snarling flare ups, the dark moods. Not to mention the obsessive thoughts. It wasn't like me. Might be a curse? Maybe. Could be fire magic or related, so he would know. And if not? Well, nothing beats Fire for burning curses away.

....actually, Light, might. But we are A PROUDLY BIASED household here, thank you. So like? Not gonna SAY Shadow magic is BEST magic... BUT it absolutely, totally IS. And Alphard? OBVIOUSLY the greatest Fire Mage alive! No I will not be taking questions, thank you and goodnight.

We should see Alphard, we miss him.

Yeah... yeah I do really miss him, dont I? Where is he?

My head throbs viciously. Ow. It's been getting worse. My control too. My shadows fighting me at every turn. Which? Scares me more. Because YEAH, others? Have been big on the 'beat them into submission' tract of Shadow Mastery. But ME? No, no. I know for a FACT. You can not rule through fear. Not for long.

Bribery and alliances work wonders. Friendships and love. My shadows get FED. They get CUDDLES. I take my shadows for enrichment walkies and give them interesting puzzle boxes to play with. They fuckin LOVE me. Would meat thresher through CITIES if I asked.

So to suddenly Stop Listening?

It means they think I'm... I'm not myself. They are making the executive decision to act on my behalf, to protect me, even if they have to do so FROM me. And... and I don't know what's causing it. Don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm getting scared.

Because something is very wrong.

Everything is fine.

Another wave of vicious hissing, of throbbing pain in my head. This time though... THIS time? I think I felt that. The discordant thoughts. The contradiction. That isn't me. There's something in me head that DEFINITELY isn't me! No there isn't. No WONDER my Shadows are so pissed! Fuck!

I stick to the darker hallways. It helps with concentration, the pain. Whatever is in my head? Is like sticky, burning, spiderwebs. Like trying to grab at thin lines of super heated metal, covered in tar. How... how LONG has it all BEEN there?

You should leave it. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt.

Oh fuuuuck YOU. Get out of my HEAD! Where is Alphard?

I stumble down the final hallway to his so called 'office'. It was a guest room once. As a kid, I helped him convert it. Back when the old fuck refused to step down, despite his son and heir, the next clan head, being DEAD. And? AND!? That Heir's fuckin chuunibyou kid being a tiny, insufferable, brat.

We get it! You're hurting! EVERYBODY'S hurting! Your fuckwit parents got HALF THE WARRIORS KILLED! We STILL haven't recovered from that. And Edgy pants goes on and ON about the 'glory of his ancestors' as though? He's not talking about his PARENTS. One generation fucking BACK!

That family ORPHANED me. But do you see ME starting shit? No!

Yet? God forbid the Old Bastard do what's RIGHT for the Clan! No, no! Between a literal infant, a FUCKING ZYGOTE, and a fully grown adult? Better pick the baby! Who CARES that Alphard was the better choice!? Chuunibyou brat is BLOOD! And we CAN'T have the 'half-breed' nephew in charge!

Better connections? More accomplishments? Fully trained and, once again, AN ADULT? All irrelevant. He's too fucking well liked! Too TRUSTED! Too much a THREAT to your precious little legacy and hold on power. So hey, fuck the rest of the Clan! Right? Why would WE need competent leadership!? You can just shove all the work you can no longer DO, on to Alphard.

Force him to rule in all but name. All but honor and title. Spit in his face then tell him to thank you.

Bastard!

He isn't there, in his over crowded office. Piles of paperwork. Empty tea cups, long cold. Mismatched pillows I'd stolen from around the compound, to make it feel less depressing. His classy art pieces mixing with my cheap, shitty ones. The souvenirs I'd brought back, again and again, because I do not forget my friends.

My head hurts so bad. How long has it been building?

Another wave of pain, as my Shadows hissing and growl in outrage, writhing like electric snakes around me. Safe and stronger, here in the unlit office of a friend. They want 'it' out. Hunt and hunt, but can not catch hold. How strong must the caster be? Older then me, probably. Far more experienced. I've been pretty diligent.

They'll stand no chance, though, against Alphard.

He's the best curse breaker I know. Honestly? He's the best at a lot of things. It's been great to learn from him. And he's? Gonna lose his SHIT. He already worries when I go out without him. But to find out somebody slipped a curse on me? Ooooh, shit. I'd almost laugh, if my head didn't feel like it was in a VICE.

Man's gonna feed them their KNEES.

As a PASTE.

.......I wonder, now that I think about it? Looking around the crowded office space? If Alphard has any pain meds? He SHOULD. There's no way in hell, he deals with chronic stupid all day without headaches. He should? Definitely have something for this. Probably. Might not actually FIX it, since it's magic based, but it can't HURT.

Decided, I get up. Slowly. Spread my shadows out. They love doing simple, achievable, tasks. Like 'find the box!' Or 'open this puzzle!', usually for treat rewards. (Cup time, usually. Or bits of my food. But honestly? They LOVE cup time. They like to hide under it and push it around the floor. Each group of them have favorite cups.)

Nothing but paper, cups, snacks, a couple piles of pillows, and a coat I had forgotten. Huh. Maybe his desk? Would make the most sense I suppose. It'd be on hand. Head and neck, one big regret, I stiffly shambled over. Organized chaos. More nonsense and damages caused by chuunibyou and his sycophants, in the name of luuuuuv~. God damn it.

At least no one died... this time.

I tear my eyes away from the top page. The one next to it? Shouting reports. Elves: pissed, werewolves: pissed, everybody: pissed. Guess who's fault? Oh fantastic! So THAT'S why he's not in his office. Probably trying to keep us all from dying. Another report after that. Protagonist-chan.... wow that's unflattering. Word it a little harsher, why don't you?

My eyes absent-mindedly keep scanning, as I look for a med box. Some sort of pill bottle. Something that might hold headache medication. Nothing on top of the desk. Drawer? Should be top right one, right? Since he's right handed? Easiest to reach. Let's see... pens, pens, spellwork paper, brushes, mints, bottle! AaaHAH! I hold it up to what little light there is and squint.

Wow. That's pretty strong. And not just for headaches.

.....should I have a talk with Alphard? Probably. Maybe? Definitely keep an eye on this. Don't wanna be jumping to conclusions, here. Still! Helpful. Down the hatch!

I pop back one of his pills, stealing one of his fancy tea in a can. He may complain, but we both know he won't stop me. Nor does he even mean it when he does. I'm like this sorta needy, demanding, housecat. I wander in, eat his food, tell him to pay attention to me, then wander off. Should have known better then to feed me, that first time~! He got stuck with me ever since.

Briefly a burning wire escape my grip. We should-Stop THAT! I beat it back down. Violently. It's taking a lot more concentration, more pain, then I'd like to admit, to fight it. Damn near wack a mole in my brain. There's no-CEASE! Desist! You are NOT welcome! Get! GET!

The pain meds are definitely helping. A LOT.

In fact...? Huh. Looking around? Without the pain to distract me? Those... aren't my shitty art works. Not the meme-y ones I bought, that I thought he'd like, nor the pieces I made in various art classes. They're just...? Random cheap art.

What the fuck?

Was Alphard ROBBED? Also? Where are HIS pieces? That one with the lady and the clearing? The couple dancing near the lake? That little statue? It's all random snobby fake art. Like someone wanted to give the IMPRESSION that nothing had changed, but had cleared out everything personal...

Alarmed. I looked down at the can I grabbed. It was the kind he offered to guests. Kept for me. Because... because he couldn't STAND it. Too sweet. Tearing the mini fridge back open? Nothing but cheap tea cans and teas he hated remained.

I slammed it closed. Urgently reached for the tea cubbies. Fancy LOOKING teas. The kind Alphard always makes fun of. Quality is in the tea, not the pretty pictures on the box, he says. His tea is GONE. Worse? MY drinks are gone! Why are MY drink-? The coat!

My hand snaps out. The coat flung into it by my shadows. The instant it touchs my palm, I know it is wrong. Too rough and too new. Some modified mimicry that my shadows could tell apart from the original. It's not their fault. They don't have senses like mine. I stare at it, feeling a building sense of panic, before look back up at the room around me.

Is... is ANYTHING where it should be?

Gaze snapping from place to place, shaking as the panic starts to swallow me whole, I realize... No. Not a single thing. It's all staged. Made to LOOK like nothing's wrong. When... when everything IS. Oh god. Where is Alphard? What the FUCK have they DONE to him?!

I drop the coat. The drink. Adrenaline slamming into me like a truck. Slamming the door open, I flood the hallway beyond with writhing, furious night. I AM Shadow and it IS Me. We run. Hunting, hurting, FURIOUS. If they have hurt our friend? If they DARE have-!

A howling whistle splits the night, closer, Closer, BANG. The compound rocks with the force of the explosion. The wards hiss to life like great titans of black sand. Ink dark, they nerely block out all light. Casting eerie spell light over the buildings below, as lights flip on. More whistling. Booms.

We are under attack.

For an instant, I am torn in two. Half of me? Demands I find my friend. They other half? Knows that I must protect the Clan. We stand together or we DIE together. Loyalty wins out. My parents, Alphard, the people I care about, they would never forgive me, if I abandoned my post now.

I turn from my hunt. Race towards the ward stones out front. I'll have to help the others reinforce them. Lend the Clan my strength. As long as they can't get in? We should be-

The wards SHUT OFF.

Even as I run, fast as I can, I watch with horrified eyes... as they slide back away. No. No no NO! They should do that! That CAN'T DO THAT! That's IMPOSSIBLE! Those are SEIGE Wards! Built over generations! Hundreds of mages poured power into them! Went over them with pin prick combs! They don't 'malfunction'!

Oh god. Please, God, NO!

Did someone SHUT THEM DOWN?!

Ahead, the sounds of violence and chaos draw near. Above, I can finally see what's raining down on us. It's war magic. FIRE war magic. Thrown from air ships, who's spotlights bathe the compound in a terrible, all consuming light. All the better, to prevent our Shadows from reaching even a single one of them.

Someone told. They didn't know about that limitation to our powers before. Our front gate! Open! Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! WHO!?

Across the chaos, the bloodshed and death, familiar color catches my eye. Explosions and spotlights light him from above. The airships blades, kicking up leaves and dust. That familiar, familiar color. From his Father.... the fire mage.

Alphard stands so calmly, one hand still resting on the command stone for the wards. As chaos reigns around him. The pleased little smile on his face, the one he wears, when all his plans come together, ever so nicely. No. Please. No.

His eyes are so cold. So flat.

He feels nothing as they die. Doesn't even glance, at the kinsmen desperately calling his name. Dying at his feet. He... he doesn't look away. Just raises one hand, one finger, and...

"Shhhhhh~ Be. Good." He says, utterly silent in his betrayal.

My world shatters.

I run.

Slamming my palm against the evacuation alarm, sirens begin to blare. It's over. It's all... all fucking over. How could he? H-How COULD-? Grief wants to choke me, blind me, but I don't have the TIME. I have to get out. Survive. I.. I can cry later. Mourn for the friend I THOUGHT I had, later. I trusted him. FUCK, I TRUSTED him!

I skid around the corner, heading towards the closest exit. Gotta grab my bug out b-!

Shadows in the darkened hallway surge, up and over, like a heavy hand slamming down. I barely drag myself out of the way. Lose my footing as I do. Go crashing to the floor. Scrambling, I turn as my shadows hiss, only to be met with deeper rumbling thunder. Shit. No!

I try to get up. Fling my self up into a run. Only to meet a shadow formed backhand. Smashed, thrown. Finding myself slammed back, onto the floor, wheezing. The air knocked out of me. Lightly, dark shapes takes form. Alphard stepping through blank and barren wall, using the Shadows under his control as a medium.

Not a hair out of place.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

"Why the rush, mischief?" He teased lightly, as though my world was not collapsing, all around us. As though my best friend had not betrayed me, betrayed US, to our doom. Up and down the hall, sirens blared. "You look upset."

I snarled. Grief and betrayal twisting into something ugly in my chest. Hand whipping out, I aimed for his fucking throat.

"Ah~, you're mad. Is this because I didn't consult with you first? Mischief, there was so much to do! You know you hate all those boring political meetings. Alliance work and archival research. Sweetie, there were stake outs! You hate those."

Effortlessly, he leaned out of the way of my attacks, looking amused and unbothered as he continued to speak. I RAGED. Screamed. Taking chunks of the wall behind me, to use as projectiles. Anything. Anything, anything, ANYTHING! Just HURT, damn you! TRAITOR! How COULD YOU!?

In the distance... the haunting, damning, final cries of my kin, as the died.

I Trusted You!

"I know~" he laughed, as though nothing had changed. As though this were a fucking GAME! "It was so easy, too."

His voice became two toned in a way that could only be magic. One that was heard, one that was felt. One that... that I had...! Realization did not crash. It seeped, like the cold and fatal poison it was. His betrayal was not NEW... was it? Not SUDDEN.

I... I had been betrayed long, long ago.

No you weren't. Alphard loves you~

How long had he been in my head? He was my magical instructor. I had hated the Clan's main teachers. Right? DID I? Could I even know? H..How much? For HOW LONG?! I was a CHILD! Had no defenses against the manipulations of my mind! Would you really stoop so LOW?! Was ANYTHING real!? ANY part of out friendship-!?

I choked, on the sob I refused to let him have. He... he didn't have the RIGHT.

"Oh, Mischief." He said, sounding mournful as he strolled easily through the ruins I had created around us. "Don't cry. Shhh, shhhh. It's okay, dear. You're upset. This is upsetting, I understand that. But we will preserver, overcome, and together? We will get through this."

We? There was no 'WE'. N-Not anymore. Not after THIS.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Mischief." He breathes out, like the confession of the truely insane, his voice soft. Yet, somehow? Bonechilling in how loud it seemed.

"I get you."

"That's the first thing I demanded, after all! No more idiots. No more dead weight. No insults, fools, or brats I can't break! Ha ha! Just me and my Mischief! Free at last! And all it cost me? Was my chains. Best of all? All the idiot Fire brat wanted for it all? Was his 'competition' out of the way! Ha ha ha! Gods bless, usefull fools!"

He stood before me now. Head thrown back, hand over his eyes in disbelief, as he laughed and laughed. Unhinged with his euphoria. With the machinations, that had lead to his victory. And... and I could not recognize him. This... this monster wearing the face of my best friend. I felt numb. Cold and far away. I... I just... I wanted to go away... please, God. Far, far away.

Stop it. Please, Alphard... Stop it...

P-please...

My shadows curled around me. Battered, torn, but ever loyal. They would not leave me. Not even now. Not even to save themselves. Weakly hissing. Thrashing, trying, in their own small ways, to appear bigger and stronger threats then they were. In... in the vain hope that... that the thing that was hurting us? Might believe them.

Might leave me alone.

I had never felt so unsafe, surrounded by the shadows sworn to my once friend. How many times? How many times? Had I fed and played with these very Magics? Snuck them charcoal? Interesting toys to burn? Creatures of fire and shadow. Massive and rumbling, the very Shadows that once played with my own... now tore them apart.

It burned. Hurt. Who...? WHO was this man? This monster? That wore my best friends face? I couldn't... I can't... please! God, please! Don't make me do this anymore...

My mind, somewhere between delirious and screaming, for some god forsaken reason? Reminded me of the Quite Game. I... I wondered, terrified and full of grief, if the children would know to run. Not to wait, for parents that... that would not be coming. Not this time. Not ever again. All because of this man.

The smoke on the breeze terrified me. Everything terrified me. How? How could I possibly hold so much fear? How could there possibly be MORE? Just as I think I can not feel it anymore deeply. Once again, Alphard teaches me I am wrong. This... this is not how he, is... is supposed to be... how WE are...!

"Oh sweetheart, mischief, darling..." He again attempted to sooth, hand slipping away from his face as he rolled his head down to peer at me. Kneeling with almost boneless fluidity. "None of that. No more tears. Alphy's here, okay? I know change is scary. And you're upset and confused. But Alphy loves you just like always, and nothings gonna happen to you, alright?"

"Remember how you wanted to travel before? See those festivals? Go abroad? We get to do that now! Alphy can take CARE of you, now. Properly. Get you all the things you deserve. It'll be great, Mischief. No more stress or tears. Cuddles for days. You'll love it, I promise."

From beneath his feet, spreading like a terrible rot, black fire spread. It didn't touch me. Couldn't, as it seemed to reach, with greedy hands, down the halls. Consuming the only home I'd ever known in this life. Consuming everyone it touched, if the distant sounds of panic, were any indication. He was killing them all. Friend, foe, what difference was there?

Everything burned.

Numb, I could only sit there, before the stranger I thought I'd known.

"Our love story's been a long time coming, sweetness. My perfect, beautiful, Mischief~♡. Once we're free? We'll never look back. Have the happily ever after we deserve. Let the rest of the burn."

"I'm so glad I found you, Mischief. So glad I made you mine. It's going to be beautiful, darling. I promise. You'll thank me."

"Now come here, to Alphy. We're gonna play a game~♡"

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fatkish · 4 months ago

Note

If you’re up too it can you write some mitsuri x

Obanai x reader with maybe a chubby reader ^^!! If not ignore this wish you well

Mitsuri & Obanai x Chubby Reader

Insecurities

(Trigger warning: self deprecation, self body shaming, negative self talk/image. [this is mostly my thoughts that I’ve had towards myself and based on my experience])

You had always been insecure about your body. Compared to Mitsuri and Obanai, you felt ashamed of yourself. You never ate as much as Mitsuri but you ate more than Obanai. You hadn’t always been chubby. You remembered that you were skinny as a child, so much so you were called a twig. You don’t really know what changed, but eventually you found yourself having gained weight. Originally you struggled to maintain a healthy weight and now it seemed like no matter what you did, you couldn’t get rid of your fat.

You couldn’t even look yourself in the mirror. You hated yourself. You made sure to hide this from Mitsuri and Obanai. You don’t know what they see in you. Maybe they only want you around because…. Because why? Why are you here. Both Mitsuri and Obanai are so pretty and they make such a beautiful couple, they’re both strong, but where do you fit in? What could you possibly do for them that they can’t already do? You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t even be aliv… tears. You’re crying. You hate yourself so much, you cover your eyes and sob.

Unknown to you, Obanai stood outside the room, listening to your sobs. Mitsuri had been coming around the corner and was about to greet him when he turned to her with a finger over where his mouth was, his other hand pointing at the door. Mitsuri walked over and heard your sobs. With tears in her own eyes she covered her mouth and looked at Obanai. “You stupid, fucking pig! Look at yourself, you might as well have a curly tail cause you’re fat like a goddamn pig…. I’m so fucking ugly” they heard you say to yourself. Obanai had a look of shock and Mitsuri one of horror.

“I shouldn’t even be alive! Why the hell am I even alive” You yelled as you sobbed, not aware of the two people listening. Mitsuri couldn’t take it anymore and ran into the room and wrapped her arms around you. “Wahhh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you felt this way! I’m so sorry, please don’t say such things, they hurt my heart!” Mitsuri wailed as she hugged you.

“Mitsuri is right. You shouldn’t say such horrible things about yourself. You want to know why you’re alive? You’re alive because we love you. You’re the one thing we know will always be here for us. Mitsuri and I could die at any time fighting demons, but knowing that you’re here, that we have such a wonderful person at home waiting for us. It makes us fight that much harder to come home.” Obanai said as he sat down beside you and rubbed your back.

“Obanai’s right! We absolutely love you and you’re the one constant in our lives that we can depend on. You take such good care of us, you always cook me such yummy food! How could we ever not love you?” Mitsuri cried as she squeezed you tight.

You wiped your eyes and looked at them. They both looked at you with such love filled eyes. They truly adored you. “Why didn’t you tell us you were feeling this way?” Mitsuri asked. “I didn’t want to be a burden on you guys, you both risk your lives and my worries are selfish compared to what you guys see and deal with” you replied. “Nonsense, you’re feelings are important to us, don’t you dare ever hold them back from us. If something is bothering you, tell us.” Obanai demanded. He wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at you so softly. “We love you, don’t you dare ever question it, understand?” He looked you straight in the eye. “Yes” you replied.

Obanai grabbed your hand and held it to his mouth before giving it a gentle kiss through his bandages. “You’re ours, understand. It’s our job to take care of you, just as it is your job to care for us, if I see you trying to hide your feelings from us again there will be consequences understand?” Obanai threatened. “What kind of consequences?” You asked. Mitsuri smiled and hugged you as Obanai blushed as his face turned red. “We-we’ll make you love yourself, we’ll force you to be kind to yourself!” Mitsuri cheered. “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll force you to endure endless pleasure until you learn to be kind to yourself.” Obanai threatened.

You smiled and hugged them both, “I love you both so much. Thank you” you thanked them as they hugged you back. “Now c’mon. Let’s go make dinner. I’m so hungry and food always makes me feel better!” Mitsuri tugged you with her and led you towards the kitchen as Obanai followed. You smiled and held Mitsuri’s hand. You feel so loved, they love you so much, guess you are worth something after all. Why else would you be loved so deeply by these guys.

#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #obanai x mitsuri #obanai x reader #Obanai x Mitsuri x reader #mitsuri x reader #mitsuri kanroji #obanai iguro

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littlelambscandyland · 2 months ago

Text

Let Her Be

CG!House x Little!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Notes- Made the gal autistic because I am and couldn't stop myself from writing this, leave me alone, lol. That being said I just got my laptop working again, so I'll be working on requests again soon!

Warnings- Skin Picking (around the nails), Arguing (Cuddy and House), Hyperventilating, Panic Attacks, Non-violent biting (mentioned),

(Fun Fact the word count is 2,012 which is the same year the show ended)

It'd been 20 minutes. 20 damn minutes and no one even knew what this conversation was even about anymore. Cuddy had come to talk to House about yet another one of the man's many neglected duties. Normally it’d be a quick in and out where he’d complain, moan, and insult but eventually do, somewhat, what she asked. However, when Cuddy entered his office she noticed one of their interns off to the side. You.

You had been hired a few months back. A part-time intern for the psychiatric department. Cuddy was initially hesitant to hire you on because of your own mental disorders. You were autistic, quite ironic that you went into psychiatry. Despite her initial fear you were proven very useful and hardworking. Sometimes she felt herself feeling bad for ever thinking so wrongly of you, thinking how she played into the stigmas wrongly, but other times she feels glad she pushed those aside to hire you on.

Then again, maybe it was a mistake. Not because of you, mostly. You experienced age regression in high stress situations or for reasons Cuddy wasn’t quite aware of, and House had taken some special interest in you. He made excuses for you to work more with his team. Eventually Cuddy gave in letting you help with their cases by, essentially, being the patients temporary therapists. She gave you a raise and promoted you from intern, though most people still thought of you that way as Cuddy basically made up a position for you, just to shut House up.

The problems only really came when Cuddy noticed House having you around, almost, all the time. Noticing that unless he sent you away you were glued to his side. She also noted that you seemed more childish whenever he was around. Eventually, she realized you were regressed during these times. Of course, by realizing it was actually Wilson telling her after ranting to him about her confusion.

Now the actual problem wasn’t all of this. No. The problem was with House keeping you around all the time you weren’t able to do your actual job. You seriously couldn’t do it while in the mindscape of a five year old. It was ridiculous, so with feeling like there was nothing else to do she changed your job again. This time she made you House’s personal intern. Your new job entitles keeping him on track and mentally stable. Tieing in his need for you to be around and your degree in psychology.

Back to the present. It’s the first time Cuddy had to come and remind House of his job. The man had even been doing his clinic hours with a little less complaints. Today, though, House hadn’t been out of his office all day. According to Forman, House quickly dismissed them of any and all cases, and you’d done nothing about it.

So, here Cuddy was trying to talk to two incredibly distracted people. You wrapped up in a chair at a desk House had added just for you, and House sat opposite from Cuddy. He sparred more looks toward you than at Cuddy. Despite the “serious” talk, House just couldn’t ignore you. Sending funny faces or glances when you weren’t looking. If anyone knew any better they’d say House’s eyes were filled with adoration more than fascination.

And if anyone knew any better they’d realize they were right.

House had no idea when or why you became so important. He remembers meeting you, how kind you were. He remembers how he’d made a rude comment and you immediately shot back. He remembers how he called you out only for you to do the same to him. House remembers how you took everything he threw at you in stride. How you were so sweet and funny. How you willingly showed yourself with little doubt. He saw how sweet you were. How smart you were. How honest you were.

It was just you. Everything about you. He felt protective and calm with you. House felt like he didn’t have to mask himself around you. You openly answered anything he asked you and you told the truth. He knew from the moment he saw you that you were an age regressor. House knew that you wouldn’t hide that part of yourself from him as long as he asked, so he did. House confronted you the way he does everyone, bluntly. You answered him with slight embarrassment, but openly you answered with kindness towards his curiosity.

Ever since he confronted you on it you’ve been completely responsive to every push he’s given. House can’t explain why but when you willingly started regressing around him he’d gotten so happy that he couldn’t help but coddle you. Even he found it odd how you became so special. A simple fascination turned to admiration. He saw you as a new extension of himself. Not because of how physically young you were to him, but because of how mentally young you could be. Even out of regression you had a positive childish view on things, and House was begging to protect that. He knows how rare a girl like you is. He felt even more proud when you asked him to be your caretaker when you regress. He felt even more proud than that when Cuddy transferred you to a new position as his “personal intern”. He liked spending his days with you. He liked how you needed him.

Now he sat looking at you. Eyes filled with boredom that changes to love whenever he looks towards you. You sat at a colorful deskright across from him. Eyes interchanging between a screen, Dr.Cuddy, and House. Sweet distractions and an inability to hear whatever the two of you are being told. Thick irritation unable to crush your five year old wonder.

You remember asking House if he was alright with having you around so often. You knew how it could be being stuck with someone unwillingly. You remember him telling you to shut up and if he didn’t want you around you’d be gone by now. You remember making him smile genuinely, not a sarcastic cocky one. You remember him questioning everything about you like an intense interview. You remember the smile that he tried to hide in pride when you asked him to be your caretaker.

You moved as gracefully as you could with the new changes thrown at you. You acted with stability and a mask that could be unbreakable. Yet. Anytime you were with House, alone, you dropped the mask and he did too. Two people completely real with who they’re supposed to be, if only for a short time. He saw you in a way most people didn’t. He didn’t doubt you because of your disorder. House became, so quickly, such an important part of your life. Platonically, you loved him and he loved you. Neither of you would admit it, but even when you weren’t regressed you saw him as a father figure. Someone who is actually there, who actually cares about you.

So, here you sat at your desk. The mindset of a child as you did your best to do your damn job. Cuddy scolding you and House simultaneously. Her words work too quickly in a tone you didn’t enjoy so you took in kind the silly looks and glances from House. You “worked” on the small computer in front of you. An open document with random words or phrases you’ve typed out being the only “work” related thing open. All your tabs have games or silly videos on them. Despite your current age you did try to listen to Cuddy, it was just so hard.

Cuddy stopped her rant midway through a sentence. A look of annoyance played in her eyes. She looks over to House who is once again making faces at you, and she looks at you trying your best to suppress your giggles.

“Will you pay attention, damnit.” Cuddy exclaims in frustration.

The sudden exclamation made you stiffen. You immediately shot your eyes to your lap, afraid Cuddy would turn her glare to you.

“Hey!” House shouts out just as quickly. “Watch your tone in front of the kid.” He says with a bit of a tease.

Cuddy bit at her words for a moment. Gapping for only a few seconds while looking between you and House. Finding her words she finally speaks again. “She shouldn’t be a child right now!”

“Well, maybe we should be more accommodating.” House argues, playfully.

“House this is serious. I won't have a reason to keep her working here if she isn’t actually working.” Cuddy replies.

“She is working.” He shakes his head. “She keeps me on track.” He says matter-of-a-factly.

Cuddy narrows her eyes at him. “Not today she isn’t. Today she is the biggest distraction you’ve ever seemed to have. Today you haven’t even taken on a new case!”

Their conversation continues. A bickering background as your mind takes in the overall statement “I’m a burden”. Of course, that wasn’t what Cuddy was trying to say. That doesn't mean that wasn’t the message coming across to you.

Your hands shook as you started to pick at the skin around your nails. Your eyes blurred, not with tears, but because of your ragged breaths. You picked and tore at the flesh. The red didn’t really bother you as you continued to rip at your fingers.

Suddenly House was moving across his office.

“What are you doing?” Cuddy questions before her eyes land on you.

“Will you shut up for like five minutes?” House answers with a voice filled with indignation.

House is near you in seconds. He takes your shaking hands in his and holds them tightly. He tries to guide you. Keyword tries.

“Alright well this isn’t working.” He says to no one in particular.

He pulls you out of your chair and to the couch, sits you in between his legs, and wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly and says something to Cuddy you can’t quite hear between your own heart beats. Something about not telling anyone something, something.

“Tell me what you need.” He commands.

You shake your head feverishly. You’re pulling his arms more and pushing your back against him.

“Alright, alright.” He says.

One hand goes to your head and his other goes to your legs. He repositions you until your face is shoved into his shoulder. A few more minutes of pushing and pulling, and a bit of biting from your side. Finally you're calm enough for him to get an answer from you.

“What happened?” He asks bluntly.

“burden…” You say, your voice lowly.

“You're not a burden..” House replies quickly.

“That’s what this was about?” Cuddy asked dumbfounded.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re still here?” House asks.

She huffs at him before beginning to walk out.

“Next time watch your mouth in front of the kid!” He calls out to her.

House turns his attention back to you. Your mouth latched onto the collar of his coat and you were lightly chewing on it.

“What’re you a gerbil? Get that out of your mouth.” He says taking his collar from you. “You know how many germs may be on this thing?” He teases.

“sorry…” You whisper.

He snorts. “No you’re not.”

His response pulls a small giggle from you.

“Hey,” He nudges you. “You’re not a burden. You hear me?” House looks into your eyes.

You nod your head.

“Good. Because if that was your takeaway of the conversation we need to teach you more on reading a room.” He tells you condescendingly. “Because I,” He emphasizes. “Don’t think of you as anything other than my kid.”

The way your eyes lit up at his words made House’s heart swell. If humans were actually made of stardust, House could’ve sworn all of your stardust was in your eyes. A moment of peace after what felt so intense.

Thankfully House didn’t see Wilson standing outside his office watching as, what he called, “House makes progress”.

#age regression #age regressor #little space #house md agere #house md x reader #gregory house #platonic gregory house x reader

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lunasfics · 3 months ago

Text

What We Deserve - Tim Drake

summary: Love is a foreign concept to her. Love is transactional. It’s pain and it’s setbacks and she doesn’t need it. Love is not something she is incapable of feeling nor is it something she is incapable of receiving. She does not need it.

pairings: Tim Drake x f!reader

warnings: mentions of childhood physical abuse, alcholism, self sabatoge, angst angst angst, issues of self worth, mention of toxic/abusive relationships, suicide attempt, suicidal ideation, i think that's it

word count: 1.3k

a/n: please read the warnings of this fic! it covers some heavy topics as well as flawed characters. multiple triggering topics are discussed and if any of the above topics trigger you please please do not read! i'm trying to broaden my horizons when it comes to writing, i'm also experimenting with different povs, i hope you enjoy this read, if you or anyone you know are going through anything mentioned in this fic please seek the following resources for help: domestic violence, suicide hotline, drug & alcohol abuse rehab site

reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

Her memories from childhood had a complicated occupation in her mind. A considerable amount has been blocked off by now. Whether it’s because of the drinking or because of the trauma, she couldn’t tell you. Though if anyone asked, Who gives a shit? The fuckers are dead. It doesn’t matter now.

Love is a foreign concept to her. Love is transactional. It’s pain and it’s setbacks and she doesn’t need it. She’s never needed parental love. She never got it, she’s never needed it. Love was foreign to her because she didn’t want it near her. Love is not something she is incapable of feeling nor is it something she is incapable of receiving. She does not need it.

When she catches herself crying for them, for her father and her mother, she forces herself to look at the cigarette bud shaped scars on her arms, the scars and scratches that litter her body. The only feeling they deserve from me is anger.

She reaches for the bottle so she can forget again.

She remembers the night she met Red Robin. She remembers being buzzed, not a deviation from her typical state. She remembers planning to die. She remembers her feet dangling over the edge, staring down into the dark alley somewhere in Crime Alley. She’s forgotten how she’s gotten there by now. She remembers how she laughed at the thought of what they would do to her body, how they’d probably take her organs and leave the rest of her to rot. Fitting. Shit life, shit death.

“You know, just cause you’re high up doesn’t mean you’re safe out here.”

She didn’t turn around. Her words were slurred. “If that bat fucker sent you you can just fuck right off. Just walk away. I’ll be out of everyone’s hair within the hour.”

“I’m not in contact with the ‘bat fucker’ right now. Why don’t you just scoot away from the edge and we can chat.” His tone was blank. Void of panic. She supposed that shouldn’t be a surprised considering his occupation.

She turned to look at him, eyes narrowing, she was expecting scrutiny, some form of condescension. All she saw were the blank white eyes of his mask.

She’d had a run in with the bat before, the intensity of his gaze, the tightness of his lips and the weaponization of peoples’ fear made her decide she hated them all.

“Maybe mind your fucking business.” She snapped.

“Let me take you home and I’ll be on my way.”

She scoffed. “I’ll just kill myself tomorrow then.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not here.”

“I’ll find you regardless.”

“Fuck off. Seriously. Go fight Penguin or some shit and just let me die.” She wanted to hit something out of frustration when her voice cracked. She was angry. She wanted to cry. She wanted to feel her feelings and free herself once and for all. She would be damned if she let this bat variant shitface see her cry.

“I don’t care for Penguin right now. I care for you.”

“Bullshit. You don’t know me.”

“I will by the time I get you home.”

She stared at him, in her drunken state she resolved that he would not leave her alone anytime soon.

He walked her home that night.

He checked in on her every day after that, there was no escaping the man.

Of course a friendship grew, despite her many efforts towards resistance. Of Course she patched him up when he came to check on her, despite her constant complaints about the blood stains in the carpet. Of course he came to check on her, injuries and all. She didn’t know why he kept coming back. She decided soon enough she didn’t mind it. Slowly but surely, Tim Drake helped her get her start to get her shit together.

That was until she met him.

Maybe she was finally starting to get her life together. Maybe it wouldn’t last long. Maybe it was just a temporary feel of structure before she reverted back to the bottle like she always did.

Maybe he was her soulmate. Maybe he just gave her the right kind of attention at the wrong time.

Deep down the only person she wanted to call her soulmate was Tim. Tim wasn’t perfect, but he was so, so good. He destroyed himself every day to make the world a better place. She destroyed herself every day to try and cure the anger she carried with her everywhere she went. With him, the suffocating weight on her chest felt just a little bit lighter. With him, she could breathe.

She refused to place the weight of her burdens onto him, not when he already had his own. She refused to delude herself into thinking that someone like Tim would ever stoop to her level, would ever look at her in all her fucked up glory and decide that she was worth it.

Maybe it was because he deserves better. Maybe she just doesn’t deserve him.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

As smart of a man Timothy Drake is, he has never fully been able to place when it all started. The lines of time have been blurred for him for years now. He remembers meeting the guy for the first time. He remembers not liking him at all, he remembers how she looked at him. He remembers how big beautiful eyes admired the sorry excuse of a man that stood in front of him. He remembers going home that night and resolving to silence in favor of her happiness.

He remembers meeting her. He’d been on patrol that night, he’d found her on a rooftop. She was bumming a cigarette, a half empty bottle of jack sat beside her as her legs dangled off the edge. Her eyes were heavy, hair up and in wisps of disarray. There was a breeze that night.

He remembers taking her away from the edge, finding that her risky placement was intentional. He remembers deciding that night that he didn’t want to leave her. He remembers how she accepted him for everything he is. How she didn’t bat an eye when he’d revealed his identity. How she saw both versions of him as one, never valuing one more than the other. How she patched him up and told him to rest because she really did care.

He remembers when he realized he’d fallen in love with her. He remembers hearing her laugh one night and deciding it’d be all he needed for the rest of his life. He remembers every detail of her face but he can never bring himself to look at it when he’s there.

He remembers the first time she called in the late hours of the night. The first time he picked her up and held her while she cried. He remembers how he felt when he watched her pick apart every detail about herself, Why, Tim? What is so fucking repulsive about me? What did I do for him to treat me like this?

He’d always say the same thing. That he was an idiot, a piece of shit. That she wasn’t the problem, he was. Everytime he managed to build her back up again, she’d run back to him, only for him to rip her apart, again and again.

He remembers every time he told her to leave him. He remembers every single broken, “I can’t.”

There are lots of things Tim doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that he’s the only person she is willing to be this vulnerable with. He doesn’t know that deep down all she wants is him. He doesn’t know just how much of her heart he truly occupies.

There are also a lot of things that Tim knows. He knows she deserves better. He knows she refuses to let herself be happy. He knows she doesn’t think she deserves good love. He knows he loves her. He knows he can’t have her.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

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cardansriddle · 1 year ago

Text

Your girl (part 2) - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

part 1

warnings: none. the reader is just down bad for tom.

A/N: this part is dedicated to the anon who somehow inspired me to write a part 2. hope you enjoy <3

༻♛༺

The noise and commotion around you blended into a hazy blur as you let the alcohol dull your senses. The Slytherins had thrown yet another gathering in celebration of winning the Quidditch match, and your dorm mates had been relentless in getting you to join the festivities. You found yourself amidst your housemates, clutching a half-empty cup of Firewhisky in your hand.

The last time you were somewhere like this, Tom Riddle had kissed you.

The problem was, he had not talked to you ever since. He would catch your eyes from across whatever room you were in, and a sly smirk would play on his lips, a silent acknowledgement of the effect he had on you. That arrogant, cruel bastard.

But you had your pride. You would not approach him. You wanted—desperately— for him to come to you first.

You glanced over the nameless student's shoulder that was caught in telling a story to you and your mates, your eyes travelled over the dancing figures, their movements synchronized to the pulsating rhythm.

But amidst the sea of faces, one image remained etched in your mind.

A flicker of resentment resurfaced as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by a group of admirers conversing with each other and attempting vainly to impress Riddle with their words. He was barely paying attention, you could tell by the indifferent expression on his face. And yet his magnetic presence drew people like moths to a flame, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. You took another sip of the Firewhisky, hoping it would dull the ache.

A shout jolted you out of your staring and you glanced towards the commotion to see the Seeker being held up in the air by his fellow players. You rolled your eyes, and when you looked back towards Riddle once again, he was already looking at you. His mouth curled into that fucking smirk you had grown resent.

Taking a sip from your drink, you allowed the liquid courage to embolden you and with a newfound fury igniting your being, you broke the eye contact only to push past your friends. It was time to confront the enigma that was Tom Riddle

You attempted to manoeuvre through the crowd, only for someone to bump into you and cause your drink to spill all over your shirt. The person grabbed your arms to steady you. "Sorry, love." The masculine voice slurred, but when you looked up to meet the guy's gaze, his eyes were glued to the wet fabric clinging to your chest uncomfortably. "Let me—"

His words were caught in his throat by the shadow looming over your shoulder, and the guy swallowed a lump in his throat before hurrying away. You would have been confused by his sudden departure, but you had grown to feel and remember the way the atmosphere would still anytime he would be in your proximity.

"You should change before everyone gets an eyeful of you."

You tensed. Your heart screamed in delight, but your hazy mind was glazed with anger. "How charming of you." You snarked, turning to face him.

He stood tall, towering above you with a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. The traitorous organ lurched in your chest at the sight of him, with his chiselled features illuminated by the dim lighting in the room. A strand had escaped his perfectly styled hair, falling on his forehead as a loose curl. You resisted the urge to reach and put it back in its place.

"Excuse me?" He arched a brow.

"What? Is this seriously the first thing you say to me after—" You cut yourself off, unable to utter the words.

"After what?" He taunted.

You shot him a glare. "You know perfectly well what."

He hummed, unbothered, and his predatory gaze roved over your form. "You are annoyingly wilful."

You scoffed and it seemed to set something off in him because the next second he grabbed you and began dragging you away. You made a move to protest, causing him to tighten his grip on your wrist and you cursed at the way his skin on yours made you feel.

Before you knew it, he had dragged you up to an empty dorm, pressing you up against the closed door. "Change." He demanded.

You glared up at him. "Am I supposed to produce a shirt out of thin air?"

His nostrils flared as he tried to suppress his growing anger, before turning around and walking to pull open a drawer. It was only when he pulled a shirt out did you realise that he had dragged you not to just an empty room—but his dorm.

"Are you planning to waste your whole life trying to drown your thoughts with Firewhisky?" He asked, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You faltered, eyes dropping from his to avoid his piercing and too-observant stare.

"Your escape won't be found in the bottom of a bottle." He continued.

"How do you know I am not just drinking to have fun?"

You felt him come to a halt in front of you, hand raising to grab your chin and lift it up so you would meet his gaze. "Observation is a skill I possess. That, and last time you told me you were trying to forget." Your breath hitched at the close proximity, lungs stuttering as his breath fanned your mouth. "My only question is, what are you trying to forget?" When you did not give a reply, he cocked his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Hm?"

You tried to look away, but his grip tightened. "Eyes on me."

You knew you would not be leaving this situation without giving him a satisfactory answer, so throwing all caution to the wind, you decided to answer him. "You."

Something told you he already knew the answer before you had even told him. "Why would you want to banish me from your thoughts?"

"You are toying with me. Stop it."

He arched a brow, amused. "We both know you like it. Don't you?"

Your heart lurched uncomfortably because it was true. You did not mind him playing you— as long as he gave his attention to you, you would let him do anything. It was pathetic, yes, but the heart wanted what it wanted, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were irrevocably infatuated with him. Your whole body and soul were his. He only had to claim it.

"I do."

The corner of his lip curled slightly into a pleased smirk. "Good girl. See, that was not hard to admit."

"Tom—" you began, but he shushed you with a finger on your lips.

"And what is it that you desire the most?" He asked, but once again, you could tell by the sinister glint in his eyes that he knew the answer. He just wanted you to admit it out loud. To him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no going back from this pivotal moment. "To be your girl." Your whispered admittance hung in the tense air between you for a moment, and then his lips were on yours.

There was hunger in the way he kissed you, a hunger that matched your own. His hand found its way to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer. The pressure of his touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

You attempted to tangle your hands in his hair, but in a sudden move, he had your wrists pressed above your head to the door behind you, making it impossible to move.

He broke the kiss, and his lips began to explore the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of lingering warmth as he bit and sucked harshly on the skin. When he finally pulled away, you could see the twisted satisfaction on his expression as he gazed down at the bruise he had left behind on your skin.

"You want to be mine? To use and please as I see fit?" He rasped. "Make no mistake— once you say yes, there will be no going back." There was a dangerous undertone to his words, but you did not care. It was all you had ever wanted, ever desired, and you knew you could never refuse him.

"Yes. I'm all yours."

༻♛༺

taglist: @faerienotfound @orangepact77 @on-ya @a-mj-a @darkmoviesquotespizza @444s0ul @amarisout @daechgustinad @lillywise-the-dancingclown69 @eceamaizmirbosislermuduru @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @turnip-milk @kammsinn @ratsys @linosluna @lizzieolseniskinda @thicbucchi @daisydark

let me know if you wish to be added/removed from my taglist!

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x you #tom riddle angst #tom riddle fluff

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mourninglamby · 4 months ago

Note

I remember that the first dsmp art of yours that I ever saw was an alliumduo comic of ranboo realizing that he trapped tommy in the prison... it was so haunting and was the first fancontent of the lore that made me go THIS IS AWESOME!! you definitely were one of the artists that made the dsmp feel like there was so much more to it and made me so much more invested 💕💕💕

I remembered this after seeing your new allium duo fanart, and i guess I wanted to ask what your thoughts on alliumduo nowadays are, compared to back when you made that comic, if u want to share. Lots of love! 💖

THANK YOUUU I still rly like that comic tbh .. as for my current day thoughts on c!alliumduo, I think they had so much potential as two teenagers traumatized by the same man but in different ways. C!tommy feeling protective of c!Ranboo when c!wilbur started to sink his hooks in vs. c!Ranboo yelling at c!sam for leaving him in the prison with c!dream…… idk I have a lot of love in my heart for their unspoken solidarity. I also think ranboo The Guy (despite all the many many many many issues with his characters’ story and overall execution) is so aware of the horrors c!tommy went thru (the whole “I think Tommy is just Scared” thing). So this manifests in his character as sympathy for c!Tommy’s helplessness ….. c!Ranboo and c!tommy being so fearful but in starkly contrasting ways (prone to isolation vs prone to angry outbursts) and all the shit with c!clingy vs. c!bee…….. still coming out of it with strong mutual affection and assurance … idk. It feels hopeful in the realistic, messy way. The way that says “someone somewhere will understand you, in spite of the hurdles it takes to let them in.”

Also… C!ranboo helping c!dream in enderwalk to keep c!Tommy in the cell resulting in a canon death, vs c!tommy unknowingly helping c!wilbur essentially orchestrate a canon death for c!ranboo in ho16. They both have been used as tools in the machinations of their respective deaths. C!tommy doesn’t know about enderwalk. C!ranboo doesn’t know the intricacies of c!wilbur and c!dreams deep hooks in c!tommy. I mourn the fact that this was never addressed because i know in my soul that they would have understood each other in a more overt way had they talked about it. C!tommy’s strong loyalty and compassion and c!ranboos nurturing nature outweigh their grief.

I think it would have been beautiful to see victims who hurt each other in the thick of their abuse find solidarity in forgiveness. Not forgiveness for what happened to them, but for each other’s role as a puppet to the real perpetrators of their trauma. It would have helped get the story back on the trajectory of murdering c!dream and casting out c!wilbur, because if they had discussed things with each other and worked through their complex feelings, I KNOW they could have found the words to describe what they went through, and then hopefully take initiative to rally up enough support to take c!d and c!wil down. Sigh…… oh well. Maybe one day I’ll work on another comic about them. I still think it’s a story worth telling.

(Note: I used to see a lot of people use the phrase “trauma bond” to describe c!allium or c!clingy … while I understand what you want it to mean, this is an incorrect way to use this term. A trauma bond is formed between the abused and the abuser. Please read more about it here if you are confused! I really don’t want to see this term misused anymore. It’s very uncomfortable >_<)

#dsmp #c!alliumduo #I don’t think I’m very coherent in this one #i just woke up lol #but I wanted to get this out bc I been thinking abt them #a LOT lately #abuse mention

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poraphia · 11 months ago

Text

"Cooking Stream!"

➵ PAIRING! cc!wilbur x chef!streamer!reader

➵ CREATING! 12.22.23 | 3167 words

➵ CONTAINING! wholesome cooking, reader is a chef streamer, wil is on tour, wil and reader are longterm friends

➵ SAYING! i thought this would be super cute to write. a little friends to lovers never hurt anyone hehe. also hope you like the little banner! i dont really do those so this is a first. also not proofread aaa sorry

My masterlist :)

»»———-　　———-««

"How long have you been waiting to do that?" "Since we met up at the airport.."

“Hey, Wil, I’m about to start the stream. Are you ready?” I asked Wil. From my stream viewer, I could see Wil’s lengthy figure making the barest silhouette from the dark doorframe he was standing at. He insisted on making “an entrance” for my stream, even if it meant standing ominously in the background of my kitchen.

“Maybe.” Wil replied blankly. I rolled my eyes, seeing that he was already in ‘bit’ mode.

I’ve been a cooking streamer for quite some time now. I share and teach people on Twitch my recipes live and created this community where everyone can feel safe and happy to learn. Occasionally, I even invite some of my friends to cook with me, Wilbur being no exception. This was our first time seeing each other in person, and Wilbur suggested that before his concert (which would be tomorrow) he wanted to do a cooking stream with me. It was like the stars aligned because after such a busy day, Wil specifically had a couple hours of free time to hang out with my community and me.

I stopped my intro music and took down my startup stream screen to reveal my camera, which showcased me, my kitchen, and Wilbur who was just barely visible on camera.

“Hi, friends! Welcome to the stream! Sorry for the delay, our special guest sadly couldn’t make it.” I said faking a distraught frown. I tried my best to avoid looking at chat, but just from a quick glance I could see spams of terror as they pointed out the figure behind me. I picked up a bowl and began my usual intro. “So, my lovelies, grab your bowls!” I reached over and grabbed my spatula. “Grab your utensils! and—” I looked around, acting confused. “Huh, I wonder where my chef hat is..”

Wil arose from the shadows, stomping toward me with his limbs stiff and a blank expression on his face.

“Oh, there’s my chef hat!” I exclaimed, smiling while looking at Wil. In a swift, goofy motion, Wil ducked his head down, making the hat land straight into the bowl I was holding. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Wil tried a desperate attempt to put the hat on my head. Once the hat laid lopsided on me, he turned around with his hands on his hips.

“Hi guys,” he smiled. “As you can see, I will not be the one leading this operation.”

“Yeah, they know.” I mocked jokingly. I placed the bowl and spatula onto the table to fix the hat. “If you guys don’t know, this is Wilbur Soot, but he doesn’t stream much anymore. So frankly, I don’t even know why I invited him.” That snarky comment made Wil nudge me on the shoulder.

“Hey! I’m still relevant on the world web!” Wil exclaimed.

“You know I’m kidding!” I laughed. “But Wil and I met like a loooong way back. Like you were doing your little livestream concerts?” I turned to look at him as he nodded to confirm my words. “And now look at you! In the middle of a whole worldwide tour!” Though he rolled his eyes in response he still had that familiar, dimple smitten smirk on his face.

I was proud to see Wilbur at his position now. I remember all those late-night calls when we would talk about what we wanted to be in few years' time. We were only small baby streamers when we first met. I did cooking streams in my parents’ kitchen and the townhouse he used to stream in was sold off long ago. Now we were in my own kitchen with tens and thousands of people watching us live, and tomorrow, thousands of more were going to watch Wil perform with his guitar and his voice.

It was time to start cooking. Today we were making strawberry cookies with white chocolate chips. I started off by giving directions as to what measurements you would need. Before I do my cooking streams, I like to post what ingredients would be needed the day because sometimes my fans would post selfies of them following my streams live while also cooking.

“So first, lets stir in our dry ingredients, yes?” I looked at Wil, who only eagerly nodded in silence. “So, of course, like all streams, I like to do my measurements while live just in case anyone needs time to catch up. So I hope everyone has their measuring utensils, because I’m about to give the measurements! And of course, I will be providing them on the screen as well.” I stated, looking at my OBS display.

Wil and I began to prep the ingredients. Each time I stated a measurement, Wil would scramble around the kitchen for the key components before emptying the powder into the bowl. I let out a small chuckle. “Wilbur, take your time, seriously! We’re supposed to be enjoying the moment.” I exclaimed.

“But but—!” Wil protested.

“Wil!”

With a defeated sigh, he slowed his movements as he scurried around the kitchen for the rest of the materials. As I stirred the flour and sugar together, I waited for Wil to come with the baking powder and salt. In the meantime, I started to look at chat.

“(y/n) is smiling a bit too much yall”

“YES WILBUR TREAT OUR CHEF RIGHT!!”

“is this (y/n)’s bf?”

Though it’s safe to say Wilbur and I had never had feelings for each other, the comments still flustered me. To prevent myself from getting more flushed, I pointed my attention back to my mixing bowl. Suddenly, Wilbur came behind me, holding the measuring cups.

“Ah, Wil—”

“This would be more an efficient way of getting our ingredients mixed in, no?” Wilbur suggested. His arms were on either side of my body, sprinkling in both the salt and baking powder carefully as his chest pressed against my back. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks from such an intimate position but tried my best not to ignore it. After he was done, he set the utensils aside and placed his hands on either side of my wrists, stirring with my movements.

Despite us both knowing that the chat was going crazy at this point, we both enjoyed the moment. Ever since Wil and I met each other in person for the first time, we had this habit of messing around with each other in physical ways. Within the first hour of us being together, we were running around the city, climbing over each other while sitting down, and Wilbur at one point threw me over his shoulder because I was “walking too slow.” It all felt completely natural to us. However, hat made me most flustered about it now in this very moment was the fact that thousands of people were watching us live!

We proceeded with mixing in the ingredients. Wilbur helped combined the wet ingredients as he gradually poured them into the mixing bowl I was stirring (of course, he again insisted that he stood over me as he poured for “maximum efficiency”). After some time with the spatula, took it out and turned towards the camera.

“Alright, so at this point of the process, it’s going to get a little hard to stir the dough, so—” I glanced to my laptop’s stream viewer and saw that Wil was doing silly faces and gestures, completely taking the attention away from me. I watched as he opened his mouth wide and inched closer to me, almost trying to bite me. Without thinking, I took my finger to get a scoop of the batter before turning around and smudging it into Wil’s face.

Wilbur stared at me in shock as a smug grin rested on my face. Swiftly, he took the spatula from my hands, gathered a large glob with his fingers, and smeared it all over my face. My cheek was now lathered with the think substance as I stared at him, bewildered. It was now Wil’s turn to start smiling with his dimples prominent as they could be. “What, you started it!” Wil argued, putting his hands up. My eyes slowly trailed to the open flour bag he had left on the counter. It was as if Wil followed my gaze, because as soon as I reached over to that bag, Wil was on the run.

“What the— Come back here, you prick!” I cried. I grabbed a fistful of flour before aimlessly chasing him around the island counter. His legs were far too long to outrun me, but that also meant he was rather clumsy with his movement as well. We returned in front of the camera when Wil began to lose balance after turning a sharp corner. I took my chance and ran in front of him before dusting him with a fistful of flour all over his apron and face.

I fell into a fit of laughter, clutching my stomach. “Holy shit, Wil! You look ridiculous!” I said in between gasps. Wil stared in utter horror, but soon enough, he started laughing as well when he saw his reflection from the stream viewer.

“This is going to be a nightmare to get out of my hair, (y/n), what have you done?!” He cried. It sent me more into hysterics, laughing as I held onto the counter for dear life. “I’m going to try and wash this out now. You better hope and pray for your restroom.” Wil said, waving me off as he made his way to my bathroom.

“In the top left drawer in my room are my baggy clothes you could wear!” I called out. I carried on with the stream, leaving where I left off. I got my stand mixer and turned on the machine so that it could start stirring on its own. I also cleaned up around the area and washed the batter off my face before reading the chat.

“Alright, chat, how we feeling about this stream, huh? Everyone doing good following along? Do you guys like Wil?” I asked. I scanned the chat, smiling at some of the comments.

“Wil and (y/n) are an iconic duo bruh”

“YES CHEF WE LOVE THE STREAM CHEF”

“I’m doing good following along :D”

“WILBUR IS SO FUNNY”

By the time the dough was done mixing, so was Wilbur, who had just finished washing up and changing his clothes. He wore a baggy Artic-Monkeys tee with gray sweatpants that suited him perfectly. “Is the dough done?” Wil said. His hair was a curly mess most likely from wetting it then drying it with a towel. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose with his eyes just barely visible. Something about this look, whether it be his disheveled hair or the fact that he was wearing my clothes, made me blush a little.

“—Oh,” I muttered, barely realizing that he asked me a question. “Yeah, it’s done, we could start placing them on the tray now.” He nodded before coming behind me, placing hands on my waist. “Ah—! Wilbur!” he buried his face into the crook of my neck. With a defeated sigh, I turned off the machine and removed the bowl from the stand mixer. “Come on,” I said. “Help me shape the cookies.”

“Yes, chef!” he enthusiastically remarked. He stood back up, and we were back on business. We proceeded to work together to shape the cookies, making light conversation while also taking some questions from the chat. Wilbur talked about some stories he had on tour. He compared his experiences from when he used to do little stream performances to the big stage in front of thousands of people live.

Once we were done shaping the cookies, we placed the two trays into a preheated oven. I did the dishes while Wilbur offered to tend to my chat. There something so.. Domestic about Wil and I cooking. It came naturally, as if this isn’t the first time we cooked together, and it certainly this wouldn’t be the last. I scrubbed the bowl clean as I thought about the warmth of Wilbur wrapping around my body. How he nuzzled his nose into my scent, then pulling away reluctantly. A small smile formed on my lips. Though I knew deep down that I’ve never felt that way about Wilbur, and I doubt that he felt that way with me, it was still such an ideal way of moving on with life.

“Hey, (y/n)?” Wilbur called out. I shook my head and turned around to face Wilbur.

“Yes?” I asked. I wiped my hands with a dry towel before taking my place next to Wilbur, who had his waist against the counter and his hands holding himself up.

“Chat wants to do a Q&A session with the both of us. I think they’re tired of hearing about my tour stories.” He chuckled.

“Hm, I don’t think they’re tired of you, rockstar,” I smiled. “but sure, let’s do a Q&A with the two of us.”

The chat proceeded casually, and we had a fun time answering some questions. We talked about how we first met, how we grew up together as streamers, and how life has been for us more. However, there was one reoccurring question that we tried to ignore for some time, but at this point, it was rapidly coming up.

“Do you have feelings for each other?” I read out loud.

Wil and I looked at each other. Maybe it was the delusions I had, but there was something so sincere in Wil’s eyes. His eyes almost sparkled under the kitchen warm light, and his brown eyes could easily be confused for a fresh cocoa harvested from the jungle. His eyes squinted like he wanted to tell me something, but before I could ask, he turned away.

“No.” He stated but rather reluctantly. “We’ve just been really good friends for these past years, right?” He turned to me again.

“Mhm,” I hummed. My gaze then drifted to the camera. “Chat, stop shipping us together, seriously! You guys are acting like this is the first time I’ve done a cooking stream with a guy! Shame on you, chat!” I playfully lectured. But in my mind sat some heavy thoughts. I wondered if the reason why Wil was so hesitant was because he felt uncomfortable with the topic. Worry flooded my head, hoping that I didn’t ruin his time on stream.

Ding!

The oven went off, meaning that the cookies were ready. “Ah, cookies are ready!” I beamed, lightning the mood. I looked through the drawers, looking for the oven mitts. However, none were to be found. Wil noticed my confusion and came up behind me, a bit more careful on distance this time.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. His hands were behind his back as he leaned down to talk to me.

“Yeah.. I can’t find the oven mitts. Hold on, I probably left them in the washing machine room.” I turned around to face him.

“Alright, I’ll be here.” He smiled. I smiled back before moving past him, leaving the kitchen and headed down the hall to the spare storage room I had. I opened the door and looked around, finding those beige oven mitts I would frequently use while baking something. Without realizing, Wilbur was treading down the hallway.

“Ugh, where are they..” I thought out loud. I dug through the dryer, seeing if they were hiding under the freshly warm clothes. Finally, I was able to achieve the oven mitts. I stood up properly and held the oven mitts as I kicked the dryer closed. I turned around to finally get back to the stream and Wilbur. I wonder if—

Before I could finish thinking, a hand was on a hip and another hand was under my chin. Those familiar brunette curls brushed against my forehead, as I looked up to see Wilbur. His glasses were pushed up so that his face could be close to mine without any trouble. His eyes were half-lidded, almost looked like they were longing. Sparks tingled in my chest as I stared at him. A gulp running through my throat.

“May I kiss you..?” He gently asked. His voice was so low, so sensual, it was like waking up next to him after a long night of cuddling. My face burned, but not a single nerve in my body told me that I should deny his request.

I placed the oven mitts onto the nearest surface, not daring to look away from him. I could feel him getting nervous because even through the dark lighting, I could see his face turning red as the corners of his mouth twitched. Before I could even register my movements, I cupped either side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss I didn’t even know how much I longed.

His body sunk into my touch as he held me close with weak warms. His lips, soft and pink, danced with mine with a hunger I never realized he had. They were desperate, yearning for my warmth. Little did I know my movements mimicked his with just as much desperation.

Reluctantly, we pulled away as we held each other tight and close to each other’s bodies. His eyes were clouded underneath his mess of hair and glasses, but a wide smile rested on his face.

“How.. How long were you waiting to do that..?” I asked, breathless.

“The moment we met up at the airport, honestly..” He chuckled. “Come on.. You have a stream to wrap up.” Wilbur walked out of the room. His hand held mine until he was enough distance away, even clutching to my middle finger before departing. I stared as he turned the corner, joyfully greeting the chat as if nothing happened.

I realized that my cheeks were aching from smiling too much. As I listened to Wil ramble some excuse to chat as to why it’s taking me forever to return, I grabbed the oven mitts and slid down the hallway.

Maybe there was a reason why all of this felt so right. How being with Wilbur just felt so natural. I was out of frame, but I couldn’t help but stare at him.

Yeah.. I could get used to this.

»»———-　　———-««

a / n ~ aaahhh hope yall enjoyed! notes of all kind are appreciated :D and like always, thank you so much for the support.

basically tagging anyone that interacted with my previous posts whoopsies @listenheresweaty @buns-and-butter @mysticalsoot @tiredandbisexual @phxntomsdusk @themonsterunderurmom

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur fanfiction #mcyt headcanons wilbur #wilbur hc #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur #poraphiafanfics

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toffeebrews · 7 months ago

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eughhh sleepiness is taking over must write about inky boy. ink sans is by @/comyet

i think upon reanalyzing some asks and the FAQ i have begun to understand how inks err emotions work a little better. a bunch of this is me kinda theorizing sooo yeah. it's not as uhh clear as my other rants are

His emotions aren't really "fake". at least my definition of fake. He still feels.

Instead, their main struggle is to balance and understand his emotions. Like in this ask:

So, he can definitely have quote on quote "normal relationships" with other people

One day you may ask him and he'll be like yeah i care about them alot and the next he doesn't feel very attached at all. As i interpreted "not making sense" as to not understanding why or how he even cares for these people. It seems really dependent on his internal emotional balance. The pretending comes in to play where he may exaggerate or lie about his emotions. Perhaps because he himself wants to have these attachments. Or because he wants to spare others feelings.

more yappage under the cut

According to his FAQ, he realizes his soullessness is an advantage (and theres not any realistic/non morally dubious means to obtain one) and wouldn't change that. However, i don't believe he is completely content with some of the drawbacks. He feels the need to hide his soullessness, as indicated in his design notes. But it "shows through". He feels the need to "pretend to have a soul" -from his backstory comic. This may be because he feels insecure in some way. believing his own emotions are less than others. Or his feelings are invalid or fake because he doesn't have a soul. Or at the very least not as real as others. Because he doesn't feel emotions the way others do, it must be wrong. Because hes chaotic neutral, i don't think these are things others contributed to his line of thought. Rather, something hes internalized himself. not that he would ever tell anyone that.

He may also hide this fact not the freak people out. Man does enjoy a bit of mischief, but it probably be kinda hard to work with other people if you have a large chance they may be scared of/don't trust you. I also think he doesn't actually want to like...petrify people. Which i would imagine many monsters would struggle, if they knew. given what people may assume of him. Or at least that's what he thinks ig shsksh.

Given he fears loneliness i think both of these reasons may contribute. He doesn't want people to abandon him. abandonment issues caused by trauma he can't remember.

But he can definitely feel extremes as well. being "overexcited" so much so he forgets consequences. He vomits up ink when shocked or overly passionate. I didn't expand on this as much because i feel like others have explained better than i ever could.

as his FAQ indicates his emotions can be separate from his morality. so its not necessarily contradictory for him to have these big emotions but still have uhh ig a more neutral way of looking at things. ig

btw this post was inspired from this analysis!! i tried to add my own spin on my commentary

#ink sans #im delirious so i apologize if this doesn't make sense #im very eppy #this is all my own interpretation and opinions!#i need a coffee #oh also ik asks aren't completely canon #and head more into headcanon territory #but i decided it would be interesting to talk about anyway #im not as confident in this analysis #apologies if that shows through haha #i have a really tough time explaining why exactly he hides his soullessness #I'll edit this later

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the-insanity-of-mojiru · 6 months ago

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What do you mean this audio is 6 years old, I just heard it yesterday--

#Insanity Draws #Insanity's Videos #Insanity of Mojiru #透明な無名世界 #If I didn't have a falling out with one friend of mine this would have been a video for her OCs #You guys ever clean out your old shit and see something and go 'I guess I can change this idea up and do it for something else'?#I've been cleaning out a lot of my old shit lately with people I don't talk to anymore and it's both hella toxic and weirdly relieving #I'm so tired y'all but if I don't organize this shit who will?#Really I'm just trying to grab a lot of the ideas I had from back then that I like and feel I can work into something else #Like this video for example #LOLOL So what's really funny is I was looking back in my art folder and I have a lot of art of her OCs but I realize I never posted any #Turns out I found an old discord message where I was explicitly told not to make her OCs public so...#There's still an unlisted YT video I made for her from back in 2018 I'll die if someone finds it #Okay so if any of you remember a Wil and Momiji 1 2 Fanclub picture from 2019 that's a still from a different video for her #Okay I'm gonna level with you guys if you're still somehow reading these tags #There is a video on my tumblr from Feb 9 2019 that for the last 3 seconds has that friend's OC's legs in it LOLOL #If any of you find any of these things I'm mentioning you should DM me because you deserve a reward XD

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haunted-headset · 11 months ago

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📱 Going Postal At The Party 📱

summary: Wilbur thinks you're cheating on him at a party. Turns out he was very wrong.

a/n: this was based off of either a Chris or Matt Sturniolo fic that I read that I can't remember the name of, if any of you know what this fic is, plz lemme know!

contains: cursing, angst with a happy ending, flirting, crying, texts, use of Y/N, pet names, jealousy, Wilbur's a bit of a dick, mentions of bad exes & thought of cheating (let me know if i missed anything!!

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

word count: 942

You had dragged Wilbur to a house party your friend invited you to. You could tell he didn't want to, mainly due to the fact that his mind would be plagued by the idea of other people hitting on you or trying to get with you. It also didn't help that you looked drop-dead gorgeous; you had a white button-up shirt tucked into short, tight denim shorts with a black tie & fishnets; truly a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks, okay?" you said to Wilbur, who had his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Alright, love. Be careful. & come back quickly," he told you, kissing your forehead. You smiled & left for the bar. You told the bartender the drinks you wanted & you sat on one of the sticky stools, waiting for your drinks to be prepared.

"Oh my god, Y/N!" a cheerful voice said from behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see Claude, an old coworker back when you used to work at the coffee shop across the street from your shared apartment with Wilbur. "It's been forever, girl!"

"Claudy!" you said happily, giving him a hug. "It's been ages! How's life been?"

"I got engaged!" he said, showing you the ring on his finger. You gasped & clapped happily, holding his hand to examine the ring. "He's such a good guy. His name's James, 6'4, plays the drums, & he loves cats & rain."

"Sounds like a Wattpad dream man," you teased. He playfully swatted your arm with a laugh.

"How's your relationship with Wilbur been?" he asked. "Last time I remember, you were head over heels for him, right?"

"He's the best," you said dreamily. "He's such a gentleman, & he's so good to me."

"That's good!" he said, his hand now resting on your arm. "I'm so happy for you, Y/N. You deserve him. & this is a reward for having to put up with shitty exes."

"Oh my God, you're so right," you said, resting your hand on his arm, too. "Remember Jared?"

"Oh. My. Days," he sighed. "Such a dickhead. Girl, I have no idea how you survived being in a relationship with him. Give me some of your patience right now."

You laughed & were about to say something when you felt your phone buzz. "It's probably from Wil," you told Claude. You opened up the text.

Your heart started to beat out of your chest. Did he actually think you were cheating on him?

"You okay?" Claude asked. You didn't respond.

Claude had seen the texts & let you leave without a word. You walked outside & it was pouring rain, which meant you had to stand in the rain for at least five minutes until your ride came. Great.

When the Uber finally arrived, you were shivering & dripping with rainwater & the smell of petrichor hung on your skin, & you got into the car as you tried your hardest not to cry.

"How's your night been?" the Uber driver asked.

"It's been alright!" you lied, putting on a fake happy tone. "How about you?"

"Eh, not too bad," she said. "My girlfriend didn't want me to take any drives tonight because of how rainy it is." She laughed slightly. "She's always so worried for me." You laughed in return & you two didn't say anything for the rest of the night.

When she pulled up to the house, she politely bid you adieu & made sure you got to the door before driving off. You opened the door to the apartment & looked around. He wasn't in the kitchen or in the living room. Maybe he hadn't gotten home yet. You took off your shoes & left your bag on the kitchen counter as you trudged upstairs.

"Darling!" Wilbur sprang up from the bed when you entered the bedroom. He immediately dropped to his knees & kissed the backs of your hands, the palms, the knuckles, & the wrists while telling you how wildly sorry he was.

"What's on the bed?" you asked, looking over at the bed, covered in objects.

"Your favorites," he told you, standing up. "Snacks, candy, drinks, & your favorite flavor of ice cream. I also got you those new slippers you had wanted the other day when we were at Target, a blanket, & a few stuffed animals, too. There's a cat, a Pompompurin,--I'm pretty sure he's your favorite Sanrio character, but, if I was wrong, I got you a Keroppi plush, too, & a My Melody one--& a green dinosaur that looks like Dino from that one game you like...what was it called? Oh, yeah, Like A Dino. I also restocked your skincare stuff & your hair stuff, since you told me you were running out."

Without even realizing it, you started crying. You brought a hand up to your mouth to hide the expression you were making when you cried.

"Did I do something wrong, baby?" asked Wilbur, kissing your hairline & your forehead repeatedly. "Why're you crying?"

"I-I just--I got so mad at you over text & you still got all of this for me," you hiccupped.

"You had every right to be mad at me, my moon," he whispered, removing your hand away from your mouth to press a light kiss to your lips. "I was a bitch & I was being so rude to you, & you didn't deserve that." Without warning, he picked you up bridal-style, causing you to yelp & immediately wrap your arms around his neck.

"C'mon, sweet baby. Pick a movie & let's go cuddle."

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