#i actually know why my brain is broken but the problem is that i don't have anything to distract me from it all
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ao3commentoftheday · 2 months ago
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I'm currently feeling frustrated and blocked because I can't make the thing that I want to make, no matter how hard I hit my head against it
I've been annoyed with myself for like a week and a half or something at this point because no matter what I do, it doesn't "look right" and no matter how I try to fix it, it just seems to get more broken
tonight I finally decided to stop hitting my head against my own frustration and annoyance and instead try to figure out why I can't seem to make much headway at all on a thing that I can usually bang out in a few days (or a week, tops)
I've come to the conclusion that I can't make the thing "look right" because I don't actually know what I want it to look like. I'm making attempt after attempt and failing every time, and all that's doing is eliminating options - from an infinite set of options
I need to take a break and figure out what my end goal actually is, and then come back at the project with a little more focus. In order to make it "look right" I first have to figure out what "right" actually is - because right now, it's just a vague concept somewhere in my brain that is too hazy and indistinct for me to actually pin it down
I'm talking about a site skin here, but I've had this same issue with fics and with artwork. Hell, I've had this problem while trying to figure out what colour to paint my room. You'd think I'd recognize it by now.
anyway, if you're currently creatively frustrated, maybe see if you need to think a bit more before you start making? it doesn't always work but... worth a shot?
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womanofwords · 1 month ago
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Frozen Heart (Part 6)
TW: hospitals, descriptions of injuries.
Jason was the next to visit you, striding in all businesslike. How cute.
"Y/N, I need to know everything that happened," he said, taking a seat near your bed. "I need the names of the people that beat you, and the names of everyone that ever even looked at you the wrong way. It's important. I need to know."
You stared at him with confusion and disgust, like he was a dog turd that peeled itself off the back of your shoe and started telling you its life story. "What?" you croaked.
"I want to know about you and your life. Let's start with school. Who do you hang out with? What do other kids call you? When did all this bullying start?"
You rolled your eyes. What a poser. He was so invested after the all-important thing had happened. "Why are you asking me this?" you asked.
"Because . . . it's . . . important," Jason said, talking slowly as if you were really stupid, a little kid, or a really stupid little kid.
"Jason, I don't have brain damage. I have multiple broken bones, cracked ribs, suffered from hypothermia, and there was some internal bleeding, but no brain damage." Every injury you listed made your hardened big brother jump.
"Oh." Jason looked sheepish now, looking down at his combat boots.
Time to really twist the knife. "And you're wrong. It's not important, what just happened to me. It's trivial compared to the suffering you've gone through and see other people go through all the time. This is the mildly unlucky story of a kid who got whatever they wanted except school popularity. I live a good life, except for this part, of course." You pointed at the door. "You don't need to be here. You can leave my room and find a room with someone that is actually suffering. That won't be difficult; it is a hospital, after all."
Jason slunk out of your room, wanting to die. You didn't believe you were important to him, to anybody. What a heartbreaking revelation. He'd written you off as a spoiled brat with no issues, and he'd openly wished that you'd get some real problems to humble you a little and just shut up a little. And now you had lots of real problems and weren't talking to him at all, just when he really wanted you to.
Talk about being careful what you wished for.
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Taglist: @tinybrie, @bunniotomia, @kittzu, @justwannabecat, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @vanessa-boo, @jscrawls, @sirenetheblogger.
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crowborn666-writes · 3 months ago
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malleus/leona/azul with a fem student who has adhd and autism. yet crowley does nothing about it despite being explained over again saying 'you're just not trying hard enough, etc"
(Oh hey, it’s my two biggest brain problems lmao. As hot as I find Crowley (yes he’s a hear me out), just once, I would love to hit him over the head with every broken object in Ramshackle. Just whack him WWE style. I’d probably convince Grim, Ace and Deuce to join in. ANYWAYS—)
(this was actually a bit hard for my AuADHD, explaining ADHD and Autism itself is quite difficult for me without references lol that and I'm horrible with finding the right words)
That’s Not How That Works
Characters: Malleus, Leona, and Azul
Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Platonic/Romantic
Summary: No, Crowley, you cannot “just get over it”. Yes, you are trying your hardest. Oh, and your friend wants to “have a word” with you in your office.
(Malleus covers both p equally, while Leona leans more to ADHD, and Azul more to Autism!)
~~~~~~
Malleus
He didn’t get it at first. I doubt ANY of the cast would know what the proper terms for your mental conditions meant. But once you sit down with him, trying to find the right words to explain in a way he would understand, he catches on quickly.
For the ADHD side, once you explain what dopamine is, and how your brain doesn't register or create enough of it, he understands why you find difficulty in completing long term tasks, and why you wait until the last minute.
He catches on quite quicker when you explain Autism. While obviously its more than just a hyperfixation, but all you really have to start with is "kinda like how you obsess over gargoyles" for his eyes to widen in mutual understanding.
You hear a storm rolling in the distance when you go on to explain how Crowley wouldn't listen, and kept pushing you to do things that would surely lead to a massive burnout.
"I'll take care of it." He speaks those words so calmly, you almost fear for Crowley's life. But when Malleus speaks again, his tone now matches the bright smile on his face. "You said autistic people bond through... what was that term again? Infodumping??? Right, why don't you share your most recent interests with me, I can carve a new gargoyle in the while I listen."
Leona
Was already pissed off with Crowley's general treatment towards you. Suddenly has the urge to de-feather a bird when you get into the topic.
It comes up when he stops by to visit, watching you try to clean up around your dusty dorm. You had suddenly stopped in the middle of what you were doing, looking between the cups on the table, to the dishes in the sink, and then the mess on the counters and-
He asks you what was up, and without thinking you explain.
"Well, I want to clean the cups off the table, but the sink is full. I can't clean the sink out because the counter's messy and the dishwasher doesn't work, but I can't clean the counter cause the trash needs taken out and we're low on trash bags and-"
He stops you before your tongue flies out of you mouth, gently soothing you before you could work yourself frantic.
So, while he's helping find a solution to the seemingly endless cycle of tasks, you explain the difficulties you have with your ADHD and Autism in this world. You explain all the little tricks you had set up at home, how each one helped a task become more manageable, and how hard it was to get them set up and built into your routine.
While he doesn't personally experience your struggle, he can only imagine how hard you're having it. He looks out for your signs of stress now, stepping in to help fix or assist with things, maybe even wordlessly pass you a bracelet of his to fidget with.
Azul
Honestly, I would NOT be surprised if he has had his fair share of experience with ADHD and Autism. Not personally, but through the twins.
Floyd is, well, a walking bomb ready to explode. That eel can almost never sit still, seemingly unaware of personal boundaries and able to switch moods at the drop of a hat.
Jade is more subtle, oftentimes so quiet most don't realize he's there until he speaks. But if he's in a mood or someone asks about mushrooms, it's nearly impossible getting him to shut up.
So, it's safe to say Azul recognized those things when getting to know you. What he wasn't expecting, was the way you seemingly recoil in pain when you encounter an odd texture.
That wasn't the only thing either. You struggled with discerning lefts from rights, which made for some funny interactions between the twins. You struggled with remember to care for yourself when you fell too deep into a hobby or task, seemingly not feeling the signals for, say hunger, until someone else brings it up.
Finally, he had to ask you about it.
You do your best to explain it to him, but once you do, he lets out a soft, understanding "Ohhh..."
You run off on a tangent then, frowning as you start to talk about Crowley and the fact he refused to even try to understand. It was nice having a routine to follow, sure, but not when there's so much being thrown at you on top of the lack of support.
Azul's blood boils, and he almost whips out his phone to contact the twins for... information.
He offers to write up a contract for you then and there, detailing you receive better treatment from Crowley, giving you some ease of mind and body against all the overwhelming sensations you deal with on the daily.
He'll even let you admire his coin collection while he writes it.
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candyskiez · 2 years ago
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so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!
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The Owl House
The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.
It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.
Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma
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She Ra and the Princesses Of Power
Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.
It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.
Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale
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Steven Universe
Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.
It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.
Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia
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Nimona
Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.
It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".
Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights
feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!
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pandora-writes-one-piece · 5 months ago
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The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 7
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Source for pic
Trouble 7
Word Count: 4814
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.
Notes: I told you guys this was going to get worse... and believe me or not... it STILL gets worse. Also, mind the red tag, above, please.
Masterlist
The police. 
You need to tell someone, and the police are the obvious choice. You've been tossing and turning in your bed for over an hour, and this is the smartest, simplest answer. 
Zoro is unreachable for a week, so the next best option will have to do. 
You remember your ex, Ichiji, once had a problem with a girl who loved and followed the Vinsmoke siblings everywhere. She was obsessed with the whole family, but mostly Ichiji, since he's the eldest. She resorted to possessive letters and creepy calls, and you've been trying to rack your brain as to how he dealt with the problem. You're almost positive he went to the police. 
And they couldn't help. 
That was when he hired the bodyguards. 
Maybe they took care of the problem? 
A shudder that has nothing to do with the cold travels through your body. Anyway they dealt with it, you don't have the resources to do the same. And Ichiji's bodyguards were real beasts: massive, bulky, scary. They were elite, all-stars. 
You don't have anyone like that to look out for you. 
Lies. 
You have Zoro. But you'll have to be very careful about how you'll tell him once he gets back. And even though the police did nothing to help with your ex’s problem, that doesn't mean they won't help now. 
Oh! 
You still have the picture he sent you of Rob Lucci, that has to get them to act! 
You sit upright in your bed and grab your phone. It's been muted and silent since you retired to your bedroom after closing all the doors and windows, including the door to your room. 
You left the light in your bedroom on anyway, too scared of invisible shadows, too frightened of unseen ghosts.
Obviously, there are texts waiting for you. You knew that, and that's why the phone was silenced. The dread in your stomach seems like it has come to stay, but it still manages to increase as you read the texts. 
Unknown: How are you feeling, Kitten? You barely ate dinner. You need to eat.  Unknown: Tucking into bed already? Don't be scared. You're safe. No one will harm you.  Unknown: You're mine. 
You don't know who it is, but that doesn't mean your mind doesn't conjure up the scariest, raspiest voice to go with the possessive texts. With a heavy sigh, you swipe the texts aside and search for the picture. 
It's gone. 
Just like that. 
You know you deleted some texts when you first started to receive them, but you didn't delete the picture, no matter how ghastly it was. But it's gone. 
With a shaky inhale, you return the silenced phone, face down, to your bedside table and curl up on your bed, comforter tucked high against your chin. You'll still go to the police. You have to tell someone. 
A creak of the old house brings desperate tears to your eyes and you stifle a sob. You don't dare turn off the light and you know sleep will elude you tonight. 
God, you miss Zoro. 
And he's barely been gone a day. 
-*-
Sometime during the night, you must've fallen asleep from exhaustion because the sound of the rooster’s call jolts you awake with a surprised gasp. 
Daylight seeps through the closed curtains, and you will your heart to steady to a normal beat. Nothing bad happened, you're safe, you're alone in your room. You're fine. 
Everything's fine. 
You refrain from grabbing your phone, trying to prolong the moment you’ll have to face the creepy texts, perhaps even new texts waiting for you, and instead head to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready to face a new day.
Your eyes are baggy and darkened, likely because you only slept two or three hours. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you lay down your plans for the day: feed the animals and do the morning chores, then head to the police station and tell the cops about what’s going on. 
They will have to help you. And even if they don’t do much, at least you won’t feel so alone. 
As you finally gather some courage to grab your phone, a shaky laugh escapes your lips: there’s nothing new. No new text, no new photo, nothing. You were suffering from anticipation without any cause to do so. So, you take the phone off silent mode and stuff it in your pocket. 
The day already seems lighter and brighter. Perhaps you won’t even need to go to the police.
Grabbing a quick breakfast, you open the door, still chewing on your apple, ready to face the day. You don’t find it unusual that there are hardly any birds singing. 
Though you should’ve.
Because as soon as you open the door, you’re assaulted by a foul smell. The apple you are holding rolls in your hand and falls to the floor with a thud. Blood. There’s so much blood. 
Nausea turns your legs to jelly, and you grip the handle of the door tightly as your eyes widen and sweep the scene. There are countless dead birds, squirrels, rats, and even cockroaches. They’re scattered across your porch and thrown carelessly over the railing and the porch chairs. Blood is smeared and pooled everywhere, and the smell of rot and decay makes your eyes tear up.
You gag and fight for your breakfast to remain inside your stomach as your hand flies to cover your mouth. What could this mean?
Then, from the corner of your eye, you find your answer: there’s a cat - its fur an oddly close resemblance to the colour of your hair - dead, lifeless, gutted, and covered in blood, pinned to your door. The note attached to the poor animal is written in crimson words, and the message is clear as day:
Don’t tell anyone, Kitten.
You’re powerless to stop the retches and heaves as you fall to your knees. 
-*-
After what you found on your porch in the morning, you lock yourself in the house again. With the windows locked and the curtains closed, you curl into a small ball on the couch, put on your headphones, and will yourself to just disappear. 
Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
But he doesn’t leave you alone.
Unknown: I love seeing you scared, Kitten. The way your big, bright eyes widen. The way your chest heaves. Unknown: You’re so beautiful. Unknown: I hope you understood my message, darling. Don’t tell anyone.  Unknown: Not. A. Soul. Unknown: Or next time, it won’t be animals…
More threats. More possessive words. More praise.
The tears keep falling from your eyes, and you feel trapped and utterly alone. How did this happen to you? Who could this person be? He’s a man - you can tell because of the hand that was holding Rob Lucci’s eyes in the photo. That much is clear. 
But who?
Who would want to hurt you? Who would want to scare you?
Unknown: You don’t need to be afraid of me, Kitten. I won’t hurt you. Not you, never you. Unknown: I think your dad’s animals might be hungry.  Unknown: Are you going to be cooped up inside all day? Do you need me to feed them?
What? How sick is he? How can he say this? Is he close? How close?
A whimper escapes your lips as you clutch your face in your hands, shaking your head and shutting your eyes shut. 
He’s right, though. You need to feed the animals. You’ve been inside the house for around four hours already. The animals must be starving.
It takes you about fifteen minutes to gather the strength and courage to face the slaughter on your porch and then another five minutes to gather a trash bag and gloves. Then it’s with heavy breaths that you place your shaky hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly, your eyes still closed. 
The smell is still overwhelming, but it’s not as bad as you thought it would be after the dead animals were left rotting in the sun for hours. With another shaky breath, you finally open your eyes.
There’s nothing there.
No animals. No blood. No note or cat pinned to the door.
For a fleeting second, you think you’re going crazy. You have to be. But then your eyes fall back on the door. Your nails scrape gently against the dark wood: there’s a mark where the knife was pinning the cat and the note. 
You didn’t dream it, you didn’t imagine things. It happened.
And he cleaned it all up.
What is going on? Why is he playing these mind games with you?
Suddenly, you hear a distant noise coming from the treeline, just beyond the barn. Your blood runs cold, and a shiver filled with dread makes you tremble. With a shaky step forward you grip the railing, straining your eyes against the brightness of the day to try to discern if there’s something lurking there. 
Your breathing slows down, and your knuckles turn white with the force you’re clutching the railing. Dread rises from somewhere in the pit of your stomach and settles right in your chest.
There’s definitely something - someone? - there. And it looks big. Massive, even. 
The shadow moves forward, and you gasp at the same time your phone begins to ring. A scream climbs up your throat, and you stumble backwards, fumbling with your pockets to fish out the blaring phone. 
Nami.
You pick up shakily, your eyes already moving back to the place where the shadow had been. “Y-yeah?”  
“Hi!” Nami’s voice is bright, she might not have noticed the strain in yours. Your left hand grips the railing again as your eyes dart left and right. Nothing. “How are you, honey? Are you feeling lonely now that your broody cop left for the week?” She giggles, and you force out a shaky, fake laugh. Nothing! “I thought you might want some company. Want me to come over?”
Nothing at all.
Fear grips you again, and you stumble backwards, closing the door with force and leaning against it with heavy breaths. “Come over?” Breathe. Just breathe. There’s no way in hell you’re going to tell Nami to come over. No matter how much you want her company, how alone you feel, or how much comfort you seek. You won’t risk her getting trapped in this person’s web. “Sorry, Nami. I can’t today. Maybe another time?”
She groans on the other side of the line as you move to the window, your eyes scanning the trees again. “Fineee! I was just postponing some boring house chores anyway. I’ve been procrastinating since the weekend.” She giggles. “Talk soon, then?”
You let out a noncommittal noise, and silence fills the line. “Are you okay?” She asks, worry lacing her voice. Calm down! You try to force some semblance of control back into your voice. Nami always sees right through your bullshit, so you need to be a good liar. Just this once. One time.
“Of course I am! I’m just sooo tired! Ace couldn’t help me today, so I’m tending to all the chores alone. I need rest.” You let out another shaky laugh and hope against all hope she believes you.
There’s still nothing out there. 
“Hmm, okay, okay. I believe that. Farm chores are so tiresome. ‘K, gotta go. Call me later?”
“Sure, Nami. Thanks for checking in.”
She hangs up, and you grip the phone tightly. You could’ve sworn that the shadow was coming for you when you picked up the phone. And that thought alone is enough to make you stay cooped up inside for another hour. 
-*-
You don't quite know how you do it, but you force yourself to tackle your morning chores, even though they’ve now turned into afternoon chores. 
Every little noise, every tiny movement makes you tremble and whimper. Even the cows sense your discomfort, some of the older ones gently bump you as you pet them and whisper soothing words. 
How ironic is it that you're the one in need of soothing, not the cows. 
Somehow, you manage. And as soon as you're done, you rush inside, bolting the door and sighing as you lean against it. You did it. You're safe inside. He can't get in. 
He can't get in. 
You're safe. 
-*-
You take a quick shower and have a meager dinner. You wouldn't be able to eat anything different even if you were hungry. Your fridge and pantry are almost empty. You should've gone grocery shopping yesterday, but the sick cow threw those plans out the window and now the last thing you want to do is leave the safety of your home to buy food supplies. 
You can always survive on nuts and cereal. 
A groan leaves your lips as you finish cleaning the dishes. No, you can't. 
You place the towel on the rack to dry, then halt your movements, tilting your head to the side to listen for any noise. You’ve closed all the curtains, but you still feel watched. It's like someone is creeping in on you, watching every move you make, every sound, every thought. 
Shaking your head, you leave the kitchen, turning off the light and running towards the stairs like a child scared of the dark. Your stomach still rumbles a bit, though you're so nauseated and scared that, even though you're hungry, you know you can't eat anything right now. 
Plus, empty pantry and all that… 
So, tomorrow, grocery shopping will have to be. Get out, buy stuff, get back in. 
How hard can that be? 
-*-
Hard. So very hard. 
Considering you didn't sleep much last night. Maybe an hour, two at most. He kept texting you with praise and soothing words, telling you to turn off the light and rest. But how could you turn off the light when he was watching you, and every shadow felt like it was looming closer? How could you rest when your heart kept pounding with adrenaline? 
You don't know how much longer your body can function without sleep, with barely any food and under constant stress. But the truth is, you can't even bring yourself to worry about those things when the real terror hides behind creepy texts. 
And there are still three more days before Zoro returns. 
Trying to ignore the dread in your stomach or the way your breath leaves your mouth in shaky exhales, you open the front door, bracing yourself for anything. 
But there's nothing. 
A longer and much more relieved exhale empties your lungs, and you feed the animals before rushing to your car. The farm feels eerily silent, as if the animals can sense all the apprehension coursing through you. 
And they probably do. 
You drive a little faster than you should on the way to the store and as you park the car and exit with rushed movements, new texts greet you, and you grimace in consternation 
Unknown: Slow down, Flash. There's no one following you, don't worry. No one will get near you. 
Right. No one but this creep, whoever he is. There's no need to worry at all. 
Fear induces hurry, and you take little care in picking the prettiest vegetables or the plumpest fruits. You just want to grab your essentials, and get out. Rush home, and lock yourself in until Zoro returns and you can find some solace in his arms. 
Is that too much to ask? 
“Well, hello there, gorgeous. I see you're all alone today.”
Oh, no, no, no. 
“Hi, yes, I'm in a hurry, excuse me.” It's the store clerk who flirted with you when you returned. And his advances are especially unwelcome today. Even more so since Zoro isn't around to pretend to be your boyfriend. 
He places an arm on your cart, a cheeky smirk in his lips and you suppress a groan as his hand inches closer to touch yours. “I'll help you. What do you need? Besides my number?” He chuckles and now it's the urge to roll your eyes you suppress. 
You feel a faint vibration in your pocket and push the cart forward as you decide to ignore it. “I really don't need your help, thank you.” 
“Are you sure?” You nod and try to push past him again, but his hand moves, gripping your forearm instead of the cart. “Because I can be very… serviceable.”
Hell, no. 
A loud crash from the next aisle - that sounds like broken jars - echoes through the store, and the clerk groans. “Not the pickles, come on. They stink up the place!” He releases your arm with frustration, and you seize the opportunity to slip away, grab the rest of your essentials, and cash out. 
Your nerves are frayed to the breaking point, and all you want is to curl up and disappear. 
It's not until you finally get home, unload the groceries and lock the door, that you look at the unread texts on your phone. 
Unknown: Who does he think he is?  Unknown: He dares flirt with you? He dares TOUCH you? You're mine!  Unknown: Don't worry, Kitten, I won't let him bother you again. 
No! Oh, no!
A quick online search shows you the phone number of the grocery store and you're fast to dial it, your foot tapping the floor impatiently as guilt gnaws at your insides. 
You can't let anyone else get hurt because of you. It's not fair. Not fair at all. 
Someone picks up at the third ring and it's an older female voice. It's not him. You try your best to describe the clerk you wish to speak to and, thank God it's a small town, because the woman on the line knows who you're talking about and calls him. 
The phone buzzes in your ear and you glance at the text while you're waiting. 
Unknown: How selfless of you, Kitten, trying to save him.  Unknown: You can't, though, you know? 
“Hello?” He sounds pissed. 
“Hi! Oh, thank God. Are you okay?” You collapse into a kitchen chair, your legs wobbly all of a sudden. 
“Who is this?”
“Right! Sorry! Uh… I’m uh… The girl you were talking to earlier? Erm… The one you offered to help?”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “The gorgeous one? Yeah, I remember you. Guess you really needed my number, then.”
Bzzzz.
Unknown: He's gone, Kitten. Might as well say goodbye now. Nobody touches what's mine. 
“Good! Listen, you're in danger.” Your voice falters as you think about how crazy you must sound. How delusional. “I can't tell you much, but someone might try to harm you. Don't ask me how I know, I just do! Please don't leave the store alone! And go to the cops, please!”
There's a moment of silence on the line and you hope he's considering your words, listening to the faint edge of fear on your voice, something that shows him reason. 
“Wow…” He's not convinced. “This has got to be the most elaborate excuse anyone’s used to get me to back off.” He chuckles again, but this time in disbelief. “Listen, I get it, okay? I'll back off. You're not interested. I won't try again.”
“No, no, wait! That's not what I–”
“Don't worry, miss. I got it.” He sighs. “I got to go, some asshole spilled the whole aisle of pickles and that shit’s already spilling to the other aisles. Er… Bye, I guess.”
And he ends the call. You hold the phone to your ear, ignoring the beeping signaling the end of the call. This can't be happening. It can't. Someone will get hurt again because of you. 
You drop the phone, and it slips to the floor with a thud, your fingers threading through your hair and gripping tight. The walls feel closer now, the air thinner. You're alone. You're frightened. You're vulnerable.
And you will be responsible for another terrible crime. 
-*-
The chores that could be postponed, got postponed. Those that couldn't, got done half-heartedly. It will have to do. At least until Zoro comes back and you can rely on him. 
You miss him. You need him. So, so much. 
As per usual, you lock the door tightly and double-check all the other locks on the back doors and windows, though you haven't touched those since this whole ordeal started. Everything's locked, and though apprehension still grips your heart tightly, you feel as safe as you're going to feel for now. 
He won't get into your home. You're safe inside. 
You still rush up the stairs and lock yourself in your bedroom, lights on and covers pulled up to your chin. 
After you've settled, and after you've made sure there's nothing hiding in the shadows or inside your closet, you unlock your phone, skim through the new set of texts: ‘You're mine’, ‘Sleep tight’, ‘Drink water and get some rest’, and then open the website of the local newspaper again, dreading the time when you'll see the store clerk's picture or some reference to him. 
It dawns on you that you don't even know his name. 
And yet, you're going to be the one to blame for whatever gruesome thing that happens to him. Should you go confess to the cops? 
No… You can't. He doesn't let you go to the police, you got that message loud and clear: if you do that, somebody else will get hurt. And maybe next time it could be one of your friends. Or you. 
A shaky inhale leaves your lips as a new set of tears threatens to fall. How do you have more tears to cry? How are you still hanging on? How long will you last without fully breaking? 
-*-
Like all the other nights, you eventually give in to exhaustion and fall asleep for a few hours. Except this time, the events from the day before are still pretty fresh in your mind, so the first thing you do is grab your phone - no new texts. Yet. - and open the newspaper website. 
Nothing. 
A relieved sigh empties your lungs, and you actually manage a small smile. Maybe this person, this stalker, is all bark and no bite. 
Though even as you think this, you know you're wrong. He's very vicious. Rob Lucci, the dead animals… You feel he's capable of terrible things. But maybe, just maybe, this time he was just bluffing. 
Bzzzz. 
No. No. No. 
It's a picture. 
Bzzzz. 
Unknown: I always follow through on my threats, Kitten. 
And then there's an address. 
No. It's your fault again. You know you shouldn't open the picture, you already know it's gruesome, you already know you'll regret it, and yet… 
You still open it. 
The shop clerk is blindfolded and tied up with intricate knots, the rope is binding his chest, his legs, his arms. His face is swollen and barely recognizable. There's blood everywhere. And his hands… They're detached from his body, hanging on his neck like a necklace and holding a paper with a bloody note: Nobody touches what's mine. 
-*-
You used the address to make an anonymous tip to the police. You didn’t even know you could do that online, but apparently, there are specific websites that offer that anonymous service. 
You can’t bear to look at the picture one more time, but you hope he’s still alive. All he did was talk to you. Just like Rob Lucci. 
They aren’t guilty of any other crime. And that’s why you feel so responsible for what happened to them. 
The urge to tell Zoro all that’s been happening is stronger than ever, but then there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind telling you that if the stalker managed to do this to men who only flirted with you, what could he do to Zoro, someone you’re actually interested in?
You know Zoro is a cop, and you know he can take care of himself, but still… 
You fear for his safety more than you fear your own.
And that is terrifying.
-*-
Shanks called and said he and Beckman are having a wonderful time, and business is blooming. Some of your father’s best horses have already been selected by breeders, so, unfortunately, Shanks is going to have to prolong his stay for at least three more weeks. 
You didn’t have the heart to tell him how alone and terrified you felt. So instead, you feigned happiness that all was going well for him and told him he could stay for as long as he wanted because you had everything under control. 
Lies, after lies, after lies. 
The rest of the week passes in a haze. You barely sleep, hardly eat, and are in a constant state of stress and nerves. The only time you leave the house is to feed the animals and clean the stables. And even then, there are times you manage to ask Ace for help, pretending to feel sick. 
The rest of the time is spent curled up, frightened, and being constantly harassed over text by this creep.
You’ve been wracking your brain as to who he is, but you have no idea. Absolutely no idea. And the fact that he could be some random person might even be scarier than if he were someone you know. 
Friday finally arrives, and as you down your third mug of coffee of the morning, sitting iyour couch, your phone rings. And this time you’re actually happy to see the name on the screen.
It’s Zoro.
But as you’re about to answer, the call disconnects suddenly. Did he hang up?
Bzzzz.
No. He didn’t. 
Unknown: Remember, Kitten, don’t tell him anything. You don’t want to see the cop pinned to your door next, do you?
Zoro calls again, and once more, the call dies before you pick it up. 
Unknown: You know by now that I don’t make idle threats. You do not want to see me mad, Kitten. I don’t want to hurt your friends because I don’t want to see you sad, but I will hurt him. 
Zoro calls again, and still you have no time to answer. 
“Shit!” You almost sob. “I won’t tell him anything… I won’t…” You mutter to yourself, tears already gathering at the corner of your eyes as the feeling of being trapped and alone overpowers you. 
This time, when Zoro tries again, you manage to pick up. 
“Hey, Troublemaker! What the hell is wrong with that damned phone?”
God, oh God, you missed him so much. His strong voice, his confident demeanour, the way that just hearing him speak to you makes you feel instantly safer.
It’s too much.
Too much.
You try to keep the tears and the sobs at bay, but you can’t. “Zo…” You sniffle, and it’s clear that he immediately stands at attention on the other side of the line.
“What’s wrong, Trouble? Talk to me. I’m still heading home, I’m about two hours away. What’s wrong?”
Bzzzz.
Unknown: Kitten… don’t disappoint me. 
“Nothing!” A wet, shaky laugh climbs up your throat, and you bring your knees to your chest, trying to feel smaller. “I’ve just been feeling lonely this week. Nami and Robin have been busy, I don’t want to bother Kaya and Usopp. Luffy is busy at the fire station, and… and… I’ve missed you so, so much… I’m such a crybaby, I’m sorry.”
Is this enough?
Silence stretches, and all that you hear on the other line is the sound of cars and chatter from his coworkers. “I’ve missed you too, Trouble.” At least his worry is hidden behind a semblance of softness. It might’ve been enough. “Are you sure that’s it?”
Another excuse, quick.
“Yeah… I mean, my dad just called saying he has to be away for more weeks than he initially thought, I guess that I also miss him…”
Zoro chuckles softly, and you sigh in relief. 
“You’re an emotional mess today, Trouble.”
You laugh softly and sniff, your hand cleaning the remnants of your tears from your cheeks. 
“I guess I am.”
“Well, Nami texted me earlier, saying the gang’s going to meet at Robin’s. Are you coming?”
You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. You don’t want to put any of them in danger, but you don’t think you can spend more time alone inside a locked house. You need your friends, you need Zoro…
“Yeah, I guess.”
“See you soon, then?”
You hum, and before you can say anything else, the call ends again. Did he hang up? Was it the service? Or… maybe you should think about changing phones…
Bzzzz.
Unknown: Such a good girl, Kitten. I knew you could do it.  Unknown: I hope you think of me at the gathering later. I do want you to have fun, you know? But remember…  Unknown: Behave, Kitten. You do not want to see me angry. I don’t want to have to punish you.
Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000
|Chapter 8|
152 notes · View notes
rekino2114 · 7 months ago
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How would the ddlc ladies react to their partner telling motioning them over, only to be kissed on the forehead and called a good girl?
The ddlc girls' reaction to being kissed and praised
M/n:thanks for requesting someth-
A/n:Monika....what are you doing in my author's note?
M/n:it's been ages since you wrote something about me, I just wanted to thank the anon for requesting
A/n:they didn't request you specifically you know?
M/n:I'm sure they did that to not make the other girls feel bad, I'm definitely their favorite
A/n:just get out this is already too long
M/n:No way, not only do you not write anything about me for so long, but you also forbid me from breaking the fourth wall? That's literally my thing
A/n:Fine, I guess you can stay here when I write ddlc stuff if the readers are fine with it
M/n:hehe, good boy
A/n:...........
M/n:what? It fit with the post
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Monika
It's me ˆᵕˆ
What did I tell you?
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Is confused at first but just giggles and accepts it
She quickly kisses you back, on the lips this time, and you just start making out passionately
She also praises you back for how well you kissed her
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"Hm? What is it darling?"
Before Monika could say anything else, you kiss her on the forehead
"Good girl"
She stands there for a second before a teasing smile appears on her face, and she giggles
"Oh, I see. Well, since I'm such a good girl"
She hugs you closer to her and whispers in your ear seductively
"Then you be good too and give me a real kiss"
She kisses you passionately as you two fall on the bed and wrap your arms around each other while making out
Yuri
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Yuri.exe stopped working.......genuinely you might have broken her
She was already blushing when you kissed her, and she went the reddest you had ever seen her when you praised her
When her brain fully processed what you just said and did, she just fainted from emotion
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"Is something wrong y/n?"
Yuri blushed as you got close, and her cheeks got even hotter when she felt your lips on her forehead
"Good girl"
Her brain short circuited when she heard you say that, she mumbled an incoherent string of words struggling to come up with a response
"E-eh....w-ha d-did you- just......w-what w-why-"
When she finished, she fell on the bed with an even redder face
"A-are you ok yuri?"
Sayori
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She blushes for a bit before thanking you and kissing you on the cheek as thanks
Meanwhile, in her mind, she's processing all that:it actually felt really good when you called her good girl, you helped her discover she might have a thing for being praised
After this, she'll try to do more stuff for you in hopes that she'll get praised for it. It's really adorable
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"What's up babe?"
"Oh, nothing, just wanted to do this"
You kissed sayori's forehead and she blushed but still kept her beaming smile
"Good girl"
"E-eh?"
"Oh, sorry do you not like that?"
"N-no......actually I kinda liked it.....a lot"
Sayori started playing with her fingers and blushing more, you giggled and pat her head
"You're such a good girl, you know that?"
"T-thanks"
Natsuki
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She kinda ignored you when you first motioned her over, but eventually went where you were
She blushed so much when you kissed her, and when you praised her, she might have considered slapping you
She'll try to act mad at you for giving her unprompted affection, but she easily caved when you hugged her and started to cuddle (she's just a grumpy cat fr)
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"*sighs* what is it?"
"Finally!"
"If it was something important, you could have used your words"
"Well, you still came so"
You pressed your lips on her forehead and watched as her face became as pink as her hair
"I guess you're still a good girl"
"W-what did you just call me you idiot?"
"Good girl, is there a problem with that?"
"Y-yeah there is, don't call me like that again dummy"
"I dunno, I think you liked it~"
"S-SHUT UP!"
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pacing-er · 1 month ago
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Real talk when/why did the narrative for Professor Xavier change from "empathetic telepath who believes in the inherent good of others" to "cold apathetic telepath who treats people like things"? Maybe it's just an issue with Spurrier as a writer specifically bc I've noticed he's particularly bitchy in Legion's comics but in general the tone of the comics have shifted to be overwhelmingly negative towards Charles.
They talk a lot of shit about how he always finds easy solutions and just cuts the problems out of people's brains instead of helping them grow but like... I feel like that wasn't always the case? Didn't he explicitly refuse to use his telepathy as a permanent solution when Sabertooth came to him for help?
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Granted, there was a LOT more on his mind during the Krakoa era but this is a pretty drastic change. Legion even says at one point "I know that empathy was never your thing" and that's pretty ridiculous in the context of Charles' long history as a caregiver and father figure. The narrative bias could be attributed to Legion being the focus of those comics, and Charles was a pretty awful father to him specifically, but to write off every empathetic thing he's done just for the sake of making a point? I think that it does his character a serious disservice.
In terms of why it was done, my personal theory is projection on the part of writers and fans alike. As an authority figure in the lives of younger characters, they want him to have ulterior motives and be a manipulative bastard. The fact that he is motivated by genuine love and compassion for those around him rubs people the wrong way, because they feel betrayed and let down by their own authority figures regardless of their intentions. They don't believe that people who make mistakes and hurt others in the process can still be good people, with the results always outweighing good intent. This sort of black and white thinking is very prevalent and it leads to a lot of bad-faith takes.
The change in Charles' character could also harken back to what Moira pointed out in HOX/POX: Whereas in past realities Charles never changed as a person, in this reality he has been broken by her. This is the only rationalization I'd accept at this point, and the narrative that ppl have been pushing lately of "actually professor x was just a huge bastard the whole time" does not vibe with me. The pessimistic nihilistic impulse to project negative traits on genuinely well-meaning characters will always be fucking exhausting.
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evmrellie · 1 year ago
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Labyrinth | s.r x gn!reader
summary: You're scared about your feelings for Spencer. Insp by labyrinth from Taylor Swift.
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genre: fluffly and hurt/comfort. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader (I'm a girl so I wrote going on this way, but I think I didn't gave any descriptions abt being one, so it's totally safe for gn!readers <333 if I did, I'm sorry, I didn't notice.) words: 1,3K warnings: family issues, inexperienced!reader, reader never being in a relationship before, insecurity, anxiety, mention of toxic relationships (not between reader and anyone else) notes: hiii, this is my first oneshot so plss be nice 😭✋🏻 im not used to write like this, but I'm so obsessed with Spencer and I had this idea and I couldn't just let go. English it's not my first language, so forgive me if any mistakes or if u guys don't understand smth. not proofread. hope you guys like it !! <3
It only hurts this much right now
Was what I was thinking the whole time
You've never trusted relationships, not that you had experienced any, but what you saw growing up? What you were used to? Didn't make you want to get into one in the first place.
You never denied that you've dreamed about that; finding a true love and a nice, healthy relationship since you saw all your friends living it. That hurted you a little, but you learned how to live with it.
Breathe in, breathe through
Breathe deep, breathe out
I'll be getting over you my whole life
You tried to catch your breath, adjusting it as much as possible. You were used to unlearn the ability of breathing when you were around people who made you nervous, especially if you had a slightly crush on them. Actually, you unlearn every normal thing that humans do when they interact, it's like a part of your brain stops working and refused to turn it on again. He loved to make you embarrassed, especially in front of pretty nerd ish boys.
The first time you met Spencer it consumed all of your brain chemistry. Day and night making fantasies of how it would be meeting the boy again with the help of destiny, falling in love and maybe being obsessed with you the same way you were with him. But you knew that it was just a fantasy and it would never happen, it was just your brain trying to distract you from the real world and your real problems.
It was a nice escape though.
You know how scared I am of elevators
Never trust it if it rises fast
It can't last
Everything happened so fast in your time vision, it terrified you of how easy he was able to get through it. You were always scared of relationships because, yeah, it was nice and easy to fantasy about it, but to actually live it? That scared the shit out of you. All your Inexperience, insecurities and traumas couldn't be fixed from one day to another.
Everything that you learned from your parents was that if you dived in too quickly, it would be a mistake. Not only from your parents, but also from people you were close to, seeing their relationship rise too fast and going effortlessly and awfully down.
You never understood why they keept doing it, sinking into the same situation over and over again, sometimes with the same or a different guy. How they kept being pulled and compelled by it? You didn't understand because you never felt it.
It was so scary how relationships could rise so fast and sink at the same speed.
Uh oh, I'm falling in love
Oh no, I'm falling in love again
Oh, I'm falling in love
You understood why they kept like that in the worst — best— way possible.
When it first hit you that you were falling in love with Spencer felt like a harsh slap in your face, leaving red bruises and a terrible burning in. You didn't want to accept it, it was frightening to actually let it in.
Was getting hard with the passing time, he wasn't getting any easier and neither were his loving and caring acts. I mean, how could someone like him be so.. careful with you? You felt like a broken piece who would never be loved and receive this kinda of treatment, it was starting to confuse you.
You knew he wasn't the type of person who liked being touched or touching other ones, but with you? Every possibility of being close to you, hugging you, touching your hand and giving a sweet cuddle in that same spot was driving you insane. He made sure that any free time he had, he spent with you. Or even at work, in his free time that he used to call you.
Reid talked to you about his mom and his abandonment issues with his father so openly that made you open yourself with him too. You didn't want to scare him telling him about your family situation or make him think you're a weird, problematic person, but you couldn't let him vent to you and not say a thing. He hasn't change with you. In fact, it only bought you both closer.
You ended up accepting what you felt for him, you didn't want to fight against it, deep down was a comfort feeling. For the first time you felt what everyone around you always talked about. And oh god, it really was an amazing feeling. But no, you would never tell him that. The thought of how this could end so fast after telling him that because probably it wasn't reciprocal, hurted you so bad that keeping it to yourself was the best decision you could make.
I thought the plane was going down
How'd you turn it right around
“Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice called you off of your own thoughts, his Cheshire Cat smile growing as he saw your face turning into a shade of burgundy.
“Like what?” You asked.
“Like a deer lost in the headlights.” He snorted a laugh.
“What?! I'm not-“
He interrupted you, getting up from the chair where he was lost doing his usual puzzles. Spencer walked over to you, resting one of his hands on your face while the other one brushed away a few strands of hair that fell into your eyes. You automatically snuggled your face between Spencer's hands, smirking and closing your eyes, enjoying the gentle caress his fingers made on your cheeks.
“Tell me, please.” He begged you, you could easily hear the smile into his words. He was always so polite, it made you want to scream into a pillow and kick your feets in the air.
You sighed, tired to hide how you felt.
“Honestly? About you. I think I already fell for you.”
It only feels this raw right now
Lost in the labyrinth of my mind
You were scared of his reaction, to look at him and see his eyes falling in pity for you; About him suddenly telling you to go home because he didn't felt the same and saying that this wouldn't work between you two. But to be honest, you couldn't hide anymore, not for him and not for yourself. You needed to break free from this labyrinth you created on your mind, there's no way you could keep up with this and stay cool like it didn't made your chest burn everytime you looked at him.
He surprised you by just laughing softly.
Break up, break free, break through, break down
You would break your back to make me break a smile
“Well, i’m pretty sure i am terriefiedly in love with you.”
You swore that if this was a joke you would combust and turn into a million pieces of yourself, no one would ever find you again.
Your eyes caught up at his sparkling hazel irises that conveyed how much he begged for the same answer. You always felt something carving like a dagger inside your chest when he looked at you like that, like you could break him with any wrong do.
It was absolutely terrifying how easy he broke you to this, to this situation where you could never lie and deny that you felt the exactly same for him. You were head over heels for him. Not in a million of worlds you could imagine that Spencer Reid felt the same thing you did for him, but you were also pretty sure that you were the one who would end up with the heart completely shattered if this ever come to an end.
“I love you so much, Spence.” You said, and then his lips parted open and you were able to feel his sweet taste coming into yours.
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maximumzombiecreator · 9 months ago
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Nothing sours me on a crunchy game faster than when the GM is expected to patch over rules and balance problems.
I understand the appeal of designing the game with a fast and loose approach, knowing that everything ultimately has to pass through a human brain that can make adjustments and judgments. But for me this comes back to the question: why am I playing a crunchy game in the first place?
For me, one of the big reasons is that crunchy games facilitate paraplay. By paraplay I mean the play-around-play, the parts of playing a game that happen outside of running the actual session. (I've also heard this called "lonely fun" but I don't like that term, because very often there are big communities for this, and it isn't really lonely at all.)
Most of my social hobbies have some form of this. Wargames have building and painting and buying miniatures, multiplayer videogames have streams to watch and builds to learn, card games have deck building and tuning, etc.
For GMs, almost every game has paraplay, since prep can be a form of this. But for players, crunchy games give them something to do away from the table. Theory-crafting communities, fiddling with character builds, browsing lists of spells and feats, all these things give engaged players a way to engage with the game even when they're not at the table. There are a lot of players for whom this is a lot of fun!
Except…
If the game doesn't actually have balance, if it allows things to just be broken and require the GM to patch them, then these players will bring the product of their paraplay to the table and be told "no, that doesn't work, actually" and then find out that they weren't actually having fun during their paraplay. They were just wasting their time. They'll disconnect from that side of the game (if they don't disconnect from the game entirely), and then you're saddled with a bunch of rules and mechanics that aren't producing what is, from my perspective, one of the primary payoffs. Not to mention cultivating a resentment not between the player and the game, but between the player and the GM who ruined their paraplay fun.
I got no use for that.
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8-rae-rae-8 · 4 months ago
Note
Hii!! Fic request if they are still open! (I see it says open but I’ll overthink it regardless)
CG: John Price
Little: John “Soap” MacTavish (with maybe the others being side character littles in the background)
Classification AU
What if Price was the mama/dada/bubba(or anything else) to Ghost and Gaz, but Soap already had a CG when he joined the Task Force. But the more and more Price talks and hears Soap talk about his CG, the more he realizes the relationship really isn’t… healthy. Instead of facing Soap head on about the problem, he does what he does best, be the caregiver Soap actually needed. The one that did listen to him and all his questions, was interested whenever he showed off his toys one by one, but more importantly, he actually took care of him just like he did for Ghost and Gaz.
I hope this is something you may be interested in writing!! Thank you if you do or do not regardless!
This is actually canon to me (and my anons) classification AU,,,, anon how did you know
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I will say that I cannot write it at the moment and I've felt so bad keeping it in my inbox 😭😭 JUST KNOW THAT IVE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT IT
This idea is almost exactly the same to the one my anons and I yap about in our server,, 👀👀
I'll give you a short ramble about it 🫶 since I've got nothing else in my brain. It's like the DVD logo bouncing back and forth in there
It's not a mystery that something is off in Johnny's life. Like the others, getting Soap to open up is a big deal. It takes time, months, to trust anyone with such sensitive things. The smallest mentions of hurt send Price's Caregiver instincts through the roof. It's always an off comment about nothing in particular, but it catches in John's brain to never be forgotten.
He'd never force any of his Littles to talk about anything they don't want to. Kyle came to him, and it felt like Johnny always stood just out of reach. Simon.. he's still getting there. He's a good mama, Kyle says so—He prides himself on that. Being good for his boys.
And seeing Johnny, standing just past the doorway with sad eyes, as Kyle cuddles up to him breaks his heart. The Little is missing something, he can tell that much. What Johnny's missing, though, he doesn't say. He can invite him over a million times, but he only shuffles away and seems to hide.
The tears in his blue eyes remind him of the ocean, a harsh, unstoppable force. There's not many times Johnny ever let Price be there for him, not at the beginning at least. It was scary for someone so small to look up and ask for help he knows he may not ever get. He can't dry the tears that keep falling when Johnny keeps pushing him away.
It's always something about how his Caregiver would be upset. But it doesn't sit right in John's stomach. Something about that is wrong. Why would a Caregiver be upset about their little getting help? Like a parent getting angry when someone comforts their kid. It's the same situation, but wrapped with a different bow.
He's still hesitant now, scared to step into John's space, especially if Kyle was next to him, or just small in any capacity. But sometimes, just sometimes, he'll stumble into Price's lap and let him wipe away the tears.
Each confession that falls from his quivering lips feels like another stab in his chest. Everything from Johnny not wanting to go home, to broken cries that 'it's gonna hurt'. Whatever it is, the captain wants to destroy it.
All he can do is be there, rock Johnny in his arms while the Little cries and cries over a monster Price can't get his hands on. There's nothing he can do right now, not with Johnny in his lap—everything he could do required accessing Soap's file, and working for ages to find whatever monster was making this Little wail for something to protect him.
That night, when he cradled Johnny in his arms before bed, he promised to make it better. He kissed his forehead and promised. He'll be there, he'll make the hurt go away. He'll clean each wound and kiss the owies until they're all better.
And for the first time in a while, he didn't hear Johnny cry from the next room over.
It goes like that for a while. A crash, a drop, a panic attack. And John's always there. He always will be. Even as his nights are spent trying to figure out ways to get a monster out of his Little's life. He's the blanket of safety Johnny's been needing his entire life. He'll be that for all three of them.
There's days where things are extra difficult, where John has to blink away his own tears as Johnny talks about how he didn't get to eat the last time he saw his Caregiver because he was bad. He talks about it like it's the most normal thing on earth...
But, there's also days where he wakes up to hear Johnny and Kyle giggling together at whatever they're doing—Watching something on TV, or playing with toys... Price didn't realize how many dinosaur toys they had until they all were suddenly out in the middle of the floor.
But it heals his heart a little, and he knows it does the same for Johnny. Even if there's still a long road ahead.
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multifandom-nerds-blog · 26 days ago
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Sakamoto Days xhapter 212! Or rather Shin Days! Such a hype chapter!
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First things first. Sakamotos trauma isn't ignored and now part of the story! Yey! Of course that's quite the blow for team Sakamoto, with him from all people now unable to fight. But I love Suzuki actually taking his trauma into consideration, and not just brushing it away! (Maybe I should have expected so much from Sakamoto Days, but I'm way to used to obvious traumas in fiction just being ignored and having no following reaction.) And Shin, who would have expected otherwise, is as self-sacrifising as always! Not even thinking about it, just jumping right between Taro and the bullets. (But that's part of why we love him, hehehe)
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Honestly, I'm surprised Shin never thought about trying this out before. Even in a controlled field during training. Personally, seems like an obvious thing to try. While Miya and the such might tell him not to, to not overheat his brain, it's not like Shin has a problem with pushing above and beyond. Lmao. (Ladys, gentlemen and nonbinary folks. Here you can see the specimen planning to fry his own brain in order to protect his choosen family.)
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PARALLELS!!! PARALLELS GUYS! Taro whi was helping Shin by telling him there's good in him (the flashback to chpt 203), and Shin reassuring that Taro doesn't need to go back to his bad side. That he can be strong by being good and just wanting to protect his family. (And Taros "I have to get it back" [his knack as an assassin] also stems from wanting to protect his family. But you know. That's not the way we eant him to go.) And until Taro is ready to fight again, Shin is obviously more than willing to take over responsibility. (SAKAMOTO CHAIN STORE WHEN?!)
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I just talked about on Ao3 how Asakura jsut kinda.... dissapeared after the lab arc, despite being a quite important person in Shins live. (No just quite, that's his dad right there. With some questionable parenting here andthere maybe, but still.) But he's back! In the new artstyle! And man, the new artstyle does him GOOD. Love his dark Ghibli like poofy hair. With a broken hairtie too. (Relatable.) Or maybe it's jsut cause he isn't held captured in the basement prison of his own cell and was able to wash his hair. (Also the anime gave him a bit more brownish hair, but now I'm thinking his hair is actually supposed to be much darker.)
Asakura: After years you show up with some bonkers request??? Yeah dude. That's what kids do. After moving out they don't give you a life sign unless there's some family meeting, emergency or if they need something from you. Well. Depending on how healthy the relationship is. And you're colleagues kinda ostracized Shin when he was 9 years old. So. Yeah. Lol.
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And now the most unlikely partnership of the year! Would have never thought seeing Kashima and Asakura working together. (Or even expected Asakura to show up again tbh.) And I love Asakura being pissed at Kashima (consequences to former storylines! Yey! The guy did hold him and all the scientists he's responsible for hostage. And at least some scientists proably died.) But still deciding to work with him. Even if it's just for the better. Or well, cause Shin asked him for something and it's kinda urgent. (Asakura: My son had some ludicious request, that's kinda important, but to finish it in time I have to work with the guy that trapped me in my own basement for like a year. Help.)
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Asakura: If you feel weird than stop. Don't fry your brain.
Shin: CRANK IT!
chapter 213: The start of Shins coma arc.
Okay. Now seriously. THIS TIME. THIS TIME there's gotta be consequences. This time there's gotta be a drawback. Suzuki has been teasing it for so long. Shin has been actively overexhausting his own brain, ignoring his limits, for so long and so often already. I just really can't believe it can go on like this much longer. And the longer it goes, the more scared I get for what's about to happen.
And then what? Then both SHIN AND SAKAMOTO will be out of commission. And oh boy, I can not wait for Sakamotos reaction. He's gonna feel so guilty. (If Shin does have his breakdown this time.)
But you also know what this will mean? Time for the other characters to shine! Some focus on the rest of the team again, at least during fights. (Lu come back????) Most likely also some bit about Shishiba, Osaragi and sniper dude joining the rest. Unless they're doing their own thing. In that case we would have two teams against X. Though they're also injured, so I do think they'll meet up personally. But yeah, Heisuke also just had some moments to shine during the prison arc, and some more Lu moments are long overdue. She's also all about protecting her new family after all. (Where's Hana anyway???) Or I guess Kindaka or Nagumo....
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satureja13 · 3 months ago
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Lenny is taking a break while the others are still over in Jonathan's quarters. They can't wrap their brains around that Sai has a fiancé... He'd have a lot to explain once he wakes up again. But the show must go on. They finally found Tiny Can! After all these months! But how did he end up with Jonathan? The last time they saw him, he was broken. His circuits blew after he'd rescued them out of the Therapy Game, from Ji Ho's evil Grandfather... Kiyoshi: "So how did you find Tiny Can? He got destroyed. And how did you manage to enter the Otherworld and get past the protection - eh... plant-swamp-thing to get to him?"
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Jonathan: "I don't know about any of this. Actually, Tiny Can found me. He was utterly broken though. Took me months to repair him. I think I will have built him and therefore he came back to me when he needed help. It carries my signature coding." Jack was wondering how one could not know if he'd built Tiny Can? And what's with that weird time term 'will have built him'? Maybe Jonathan's brain is just as busy and stuffed as his and he forgets things? Then Vlad asked away and Jack forgot about it... This is all so confusing - and exciting! Vlad: "Months? This is so weird. How was he able to host the Therapy Game during this time? There are no issues known. Or any downtimes." Jonathan: "Well, I'm utterly sure that Tiny Can here is not the host of the Therapy Game. There is a save game left on his hard disk though. And from time to time he plays me a message, from you two. Jack and Jeb." Jack: "Oh, that's an old one. Where a future Jeb tells the others they should stay together and how to activate the ship?" Jonathan: "No, it's another one. Maybe I can make him play it again tomorrow. He's still not fully fixed, I fear. Oh my, only Sai could turn an invaluable artefact into a gaming server ^^' "
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Jonathan: "Sai was clever to hide his signature so no one could trace the Therapy Game back to him. The Council is eager to get a grip on the developer and stop this game. It made their live so much harder since so many creatures have a community now. And get help. But even though Sai's signature and mine are quite equal, since I'd tought him everything about programming, there are still parts that I only developed after we got separated... And he came back to me, so I could help him..." They fell silent for a while, trying to put it all together... To compute... But they are tired and it's all too much.
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Jack: "Well, I guess these are problems for later. The other question is: Who is hosting the Therapy Game now?" Jonathan: "I tried to find out from which Game that one save file is he still kept. It is from the Therapy Game - and it's hosted from everyhere. Literally. It's a giant network that uses 'volunteer computing'. Users from all over the galaxy 'donate' processing space. Maybe you've heard of it. It's often used in science." Jack: "Oh! I installed it too! To find the origins of pizza. Hey, what's that look? We're quite a few. Pizza is too amazing to originate from our little world! There is something bigger behind it!" (Where he's right, he's right ;)
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Kiyoshi: "But this means - it's impossible turn off the Therapy Game." Jonathan: "Why would one want to turn it off? It's amazing and has extremely good reviews in the 90's?" Kiyoshi sighed: "Sai is convinced it's a threat. Ji Ho almost died. And even though we know Tiny Can only tried to save him from his grandfather, Sai still thinks it could mess with the players' brains." Jonathan: "It really doesn't. Tiny Can has no evil or corrupted circuit in him. He made very sure everyone is safe and no one can meddle with the code again. There are also disclaimers and the game even checks back if the players are ok all the time and takes measures if it gets uncomfortable for them. The game wraps around the players needs and it adjusts itself. Even though Tiny Can did the majority of the work, Sai - and all of you too - can be so proud of yourself for starting this."
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Jonathan looked over to Sai: "I still can't believe I found him. How long has it been since I last saw him? Five years? Six? I thought they'd killed him. Thank you for taking care of him." Jeb cleared his throat: "We are all exhausted. Let's continue tomorrow. Sai should hear about all this too." Jack, towards Jonathan: "You must know Jeb is Sai's..." Vlad interrupted him and hissed: "Jack!" Jonathan: "There is another quarter right across the corridor. I asked the maintenance droids to get it ready for you." Kiyoshi: "Thank you. See you later then."
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They left Sai in Jonathan's bed to recover. And when they entered their quarter, there were only five beds. So Jonathan seems confident that Sai will stay with him? Jack's brain thought it's best for him to clear everything off of it and deal with all these crazy news tomorrow. Or later, since they don't know which time it is here on this mining colony in the hazy middle of nowhere. And he's excited and enthusiastic as always. Plus - Jeb should be distracted.
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Jack: "Look! The view! And there's Skully! Hey Skully, who's looking after the ship?" Skully: "Malfoy and Axl. Thought you might need me. How's the captain doing?" Jeb said nothing and just went over to his bed.
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He sighed: "We should spare Sai from all this. Insisting to keep him as a leader broke him. We even betrayed him for trying to leave without him - to save tiny Can. And he betrayed us for leaving without us - to kill Tiny Can. This is all to much for him. And we can't go on like this. Jonathan will be able to take better care of him than we are. Sai left everything behind for Jonathan. Left his his realm and sold everything he had - to be with him." Vlad: "Maybe you are right. We did what we could to carry the burden with him but it wasn't enough. And he did what he could to be there for us and it broke him. He surely wasn't made for all this madness that comes with us."
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Kiyoshi: "And without the meteorites, we can't go back home to the otherworld anymore. It would be safer to split up anyway, so the Council won't see us as a threat anymore. And each couple had their own place to live." Jack went silent. He just knew it. The evening before they'd left home. He'd had this odd feeling and he knew it would be for the last time they'd see their home in Otherworld's Tomarang... Ji Ho: "But what about the message from Future Jeb? He urged us to stay together!" Jack: "Jonathan said there is another message from them. Maybe he tells us that everything is fine now that we've fulfilled our mission to find Tiny Can? Or whatever it was he wanted us to stay together for?" Vlad: "It's useless to wreck our exhausted brains over this now. Let's sleep - and see what tomorrow brings." Ji Ho: "Maybe our mission was to bring Jonathan and Sai back together? It all started after we found Tiny Can in that temple. And he went back to Jonathan when he needed help. And he knew we would try to find him..." Poor Jeb... And Future Jeb even wanted to make it happen. Why? Because he knew they wouldn't last? After all of their break-ups and quarrels?
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Skully brought a matching song for them. It goes like this:
'I go dancing on the ceiling sometimes It's always fun but I get scared of the climb Will you catch my fall? Catch my fall?
The notes I play put a stain on my heart Some songs I hate, some I hate even more I act a fool Am I the fool?
So tell me, Eric, does it hurt, hurt? (Uh-huh) So tell me, Eric, does it hurt? (Not at all)
I'm killin' life like a one way ticket to hell I'm on a high goin' down, down, down I wanna wipe that sad, sad feelin' away Down, down, down
I'm killin' life like a one way ticket to hell I'm on a high goin' down, down, down I wanna wipe that sad, sad feelin' away Down, down, down (Oh, oh, oh, oh) (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
The words I sing burn my throat as they leave Desperate measures for these times are in need Do you feel the same? (Feel the same) It's such a shame'
Killin' it - Foxy Shazam (Live version, more bass than in the official one, I love it!)
imo this is one of the most unterrated songs I know. It's only availavle on compilations on spotify o.o So if you liked the kind of songs Skully, the Boys and I played so far, you should give it a try.
Outtakes
The counter scene from the first pic. Behind the window, you can spot Lenny :3
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From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest
Current Chapter 'Goats in Space': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' from the beginning ▶️ here
📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29
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zarathebleachfox · 18 days ago
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About Ichihime
This ship wakes up so many parts of my brain. And I'm about to go insane here. But to keep things short: They didn't fit good in chaos but try; and in the calm they fit perfectly.
And now to go on details:
The first reason why I adore IchiHime is because I think they don't fit good, I think they stumble against the other, they are not soulmates, they are not 2 peas in a pot, they do not fit well. But they both want to.
During the whole series their desire to protect the other has done more harm than good and they both don't fully trust the other on being able to protect themselves, and they care SO MUCH. They step on each others foot and learn to meet in the middle instead. Ichigo doesn't want Orihime to be part of fight but she doesn't want to simply sit and watch, and Hime doesn't want Ichigo to get hurt but he needs to fight. I think it's lovely, the desire to protect the other ending up getting them hurt at the end, and finally over the time, deciding to adapt to the other and not ignore the other's wishes, Orihime allowing Ichigo to get hurt and letting him fight and deciding to be there to cure him instead and Ichigo allowing Orihime to fulfill her role as a shield and allowing her to be in precarious situations.
It's realistic, they are not made for the other but they do fit good enough, like 2 pieces of different puzzles that fit just perfectly but are not supposed to be there. Orihime is the one that fits in Ichigo's puzzle, being in his life causes disasters and completes equally, and because due to the fact of her puzzle being broken and incomplete she tries to find her value in a place where she won't find much.
Her role is good to make Ichigo's story dynamic, he is a dude that gets into fights and gets hurt and her fast shields allow her to protect the hits he doesn't see coming and heal him if he has to keep fighting. But other than that fullfilment, Orihime's troubles don't fit the plot of Bleach, her own troubles are the stress of school and living alone, money problems, the struggles of independence since young, A girl living alone in a violent world and her fear of being violent and aggresive; and those things won't get fixed in the wars she participated.
And this is how I go to the second reason why I love IchiHime. Normalcy is where they actually fit. Orihime is just a normal gal but that is used to chaos, she never had a normal life so she know how to handle disorder, she knows how to handle emotions, injuries, and unexpected situations and Ichigo is a dude that has lived through so much chaos and never once sat down and thought about it. When there's calm and things need healing, when there's a need of warm and safety that's where they fit the other.
Orihime is just a girl his age that goes to the same school, they can study together for the classes that they don't do well, but he can also go to her if he is injured to seek healing, where Orihime doesn't see her value and worth Ichigo has seen it and appreciate it, She doesn't see the things she has done for other, it doesn't matter if she revived and saved people, but for Ichigo it matters, it didn't at the start but now he sees her and he can help her see her greatness herself.
Ichigo is just a dude that doesn't know how to handle his feelings but her is good at fight things that are wrong, When Ichigo can't talk about his issues Orihime can let him have his time, she is good at accepting the bad in one self where one lacks she can sit in her own feelings and process them and she can help Ichigo be able to do the same.
Where they want normal, where they want comfort, inner growth and safety is where the other shines in their life. Where the other fits.
Other random silly reasons:
I find cute a silly high school crush, Ori likes Ichigo for the silly reason of "his face being funny". When other people usually find him scary instead she find him endearing.
The soft looks Ichigo usually gives Orihime, which is understandable, Orihime is a character that has gone through a lot and everyone treat her delicately, Yoruichi, Ishida and even Urahara. But the fact that Ichigo, a character that usually just doesn't care much about people he is not close with shows softness and care around her makes me jdanajkdsnaj. Ichigo caring is part of himself, I just think it's lovely, their dinamic of wanting to treat the other right is adorable. Orihime doesn't push Ichigo, and Ichigo is soft with her even avoiding her look when he is going to do something she is not going to like.
Although Ori has a crush on him, she has never once shown what she expects in the relationship and we have no clue what Ichigo is romantically, but we know Orihime is chaotic silly and Ichigo likes shakespeare so the possibilities of their first dates being an absolute disaster because Ori is not treating their dates romantically and Ichigo is doing his best at not being sap to keep his cool persona making the date super platonic and confusing fills me with joy.
Orihime is baby and she can have anything she wants to, and if she wants a cool boyfriend she is gonna get it by my artistic hand.
Ichigo is silly and dumb, and Orihime is even sillier and dumber, these motherfuckers are going to be so funny in a relationship or process to BE in a relationship.
---
And here's the long ass text lol
What do you think?
This is literally the first time I actually have an interaction with someone about a specific type of media which does not entail a discussion of problematic content in said media; that is we are actually having a convo about stuff to enjoy in the media, which is new to me! Because I usually do not tend to have convos about stuff I enjoy, I tend to vent about negativity more.
So the first thing I thought about this when reading it is "Nice! Finally some interaction for me through asks!". So I am grateful for this, really.
Now, I agree with most of the concepts you expressed, though maybe I myself would have expressed them differently. Because I believe that they also would find difficulties fitting in a normal, standard human lifestyle. Mainly because of Ichigo and his attachment to his Shinigami lifestyle, or in general, him enjoying to prove himself against various opponents who threaten others. We saw him being strongly affected by the loss of his Shinigami powers in the Fullbringer arc. So I think that in whichever situation they find themselves in, Ichigo and Orihime will find a struggle that they need to face to understand how to approach it separately AND together. And sometimes approaching it together will inevitably lead to contrast and mixed results but they don't stop caring about each other either way and that's really interesting. Almost like a "we have been through a lot, so I will understand you for this mistake, and we will simply turn another page and see what awaits us in the future".
Aside from that I agree that they are not meant to be soul mates at all. Otherwise their relationship would not have hit as many road bumps as it did in Canon. But I find the concept of soul mates to be annoying anyway and prefer flawed individuals a lot more.
I take it you agree more with my second interpretation of IchiHime (perhaps! This is only my impression, I do not want to assume anything), and honestly, it is the one I prefer as well. They are not absolutely perfect for each other in every situation, but they want to try and make it work for the other because they care. And I find that compelling. One thing IchiHime is not, IMO, is boring. It can be interesting and thought provoking in so many ways. But people see "dorky female character+main character" and think just because of that it is boring. Or they think Orihime is merely a damsel in distress. Ignoring what are the reasons that made it so difficult for her to reveal her true feelings or stand up.
Thank you for this. It is nice to hear other people's headcanons as well. Especially when it comes to ships! I usually only ever elaborate headcanons for singular characters, outside of the context of ships. And I can totally imagine them both being dorks when approaching the matter of dates and romanticism and the like!
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nonsensefunsense · 11 months ago
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I don't know why this popped into my head again prolly cuz I have sick brain but
The episode where rapunzal becomes queen for a day and the episode after that where she's really indecisive were so good
Like the fact that she kept saying I never break my promises always bothered me because who is she making promises to her who life? Her pet chameleon??? Ofc she's never broken a promise it'd probably be harder to break ur promise than to keep it if the person ur making promises to is literally a reptile
And then she has to break a promise for the first time. And yeah it's justified cuz she has to look after her people but it breaks her so much that she broke that promise. That she betrayed the trust of one of her friends. This was one of the first times when rapunzal began to realise how complicated life is and how you can hurt good people kind of intentionally no matter how good ur reasons are.
The fact that the episode after it first off she's so traumatised from having to make so many major decisions that actually have real world consequences plus dealing with the fact that no matter what decision she would have made someone would have gotten hurt either way so she joins a cult that makes all her decisions for her but then her indecisiveness almost leads to bringing the worst demon ever back to life, the same demon that caused the major problem in the previous episode thus forcing her to realise that even if she makes difficult decisions like that again being indecisive is infinitely worse than choosing cuz even if u choose to not choose in the end that's still sort of choosing and if u just let things happen its worse than when u decide cuz when u decide things at least u can choose the best choice you can make which will actually make a difference whereas just doing nothing is just you allowing the bad things to happen.
(Im just now realised that this is exactly what's happening in American elections rt now with the left deciding not to vote cuz what's the point and not realising that not voting makes the outcome worse than they could possibly imagine)
But then when Varian shows up again and she tries to apologise and realises that even though her decision was justified that doesn't erase the fact that he has to now face the consequences of that decision because of her and just cuz she apologized doesn't mean he has to forgive her
Seriously there are so many good lessons in this show and I NEED more people to watch it
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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 9 months ago
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Just One More
I love your SaSi fics! Might I request some touch-starved analogical? No pressure tho! *disappears in a poof of smoke, leaving a plate of cookies for you* – amateurmasksmith
hello! i'd hate to be a bother but i love your writing so much and would love to see some more logan hurt/comfort? Any type works but there isn't enough highschool au!Logan overworking himself and the others not noticing until he's completely burnt out and realising that Logan is a lot more damaged than they thought in my opinion <3- anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: overworking, burn out
Pairings: analogical
Word Count: 2377
Just one more. Just one more. Just one more.
It's been just one more for the past hour and a half, but that's beside the point. If he thinks about how much he still has to do, he'll get so overwhelmed he can't do anything but stare at the mountains of work piling up in front of him. But if he thinks about it as just one more, then he can do just one more. And he'll do it over and over and over again until there aren't any one mores to be just.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. He's getting lyrical again. Anytime he starts to wax poetic he knows Roman's overworking tendencies are rubbing off on him again.
Now, that's not to say that Roman always overworks, it's just that out of their friend group, one of them has this habit of pulling all-nighters and downing coffee as though it could replace the blood in his veins if he tried hard enough, and one of them has a color coded schedule that marks out just how much he can get away with before he has to take a break to drink water, eat food, or recover some semblance of sanity before he loses it to equations and spreadsheets beyond number. Said schedule might have been, ahem, put off for a little bit too long in order to allow for such repeated actions as just one more, but that's beside the point. Beside several points, actually, and he'd rather not think about it right now when he should be focusing on the just one mores.
His pen scribbles down the answer and without blinking, he picks up the page and flips it over so he can start working on the next problem. He's already broken down the respective equations by the time his brain catches up to the fact that this is not, in fact, just one more.
Just one more.
What time is it? He doesn't know. He doesn't particularly care. He has work to do, that's far more important. Besides, it's not as though he'll suffer egregiously if he works a little later than he's supposed to. He's the one who allocates his time, if he has an issue with how he's spending it, he'll take it up with himself later. After this one. After this next one. Just one more.
He blinks. Oh, his eyes were closed. That's annoying. How is he supposed to work with his eyes closed? His gives his head a good shake and promptly cries out from the pain. That's bizarre, when did his headache get so bad? He's supposed to drink water every fifteen minutes to keep his fluid intake constant, and that helps keep the headaches at bay. He reaches out blindly for the water bottle and gropes thin air. That's weird. His water bottle should be right there. He turns his head to look—
He cries out in pain again. That's not right. Why is his neck so sore? He's supposed to take breaks to look around to make sure his muscles don't get too stiff from staring at the same place all day. Come to think of it, he's also supposed to be doing his eye relaxation too to make sure he doesn't focus in too hard and risk losing his peripheral vision. Granted, that is more common in fields where attention to fine detail is much more common, but it can't hurt to be cautious. In this case, it's hurting him not to be cautious. Perhaps he's focused in too deep…missed the forest for the trees…and now it's hard to see…isn't it a challenge to be free?
Now he's rhyming.
What time is it?
His hand flops uselessly down to the side. It's burning. Is it burning? No, pins and needles, that's the term. That's the term for when his circulation isn't making it all the way to the end of his fingers, why is that? How can that be? It hasn't been that long, has it? He has work to do, he can't have been so careless with his time that he's forgotten he has work to do? No, he'll rally himself to do just one more.
Just one more.
His hand clatters uselessly against the desk.
Just one more.
His notebook slides off into his lap and splays out on the floor like a corpse.
Just one more.
His eyes slide shut.
Just one more.
He falls forward.
Just one more.
He hits the desk and something is—is—
Just one more.
***
Alright, Virgil's getting nervous.
Not that it's a wild thing for Virgil to get nervous, but it is wild that it's Logan that's making him nervous. Logan's like the beacon of work-life balance, which is why it's fucking weird that Logan of all people isn't here, at breakfast, like they planned last week and confirmed literally every day up until yesterday. Yeah. That's weird. Logan's not here and he's almost a full hour late and Virgil is getting pretty fucking nervous about it.
The clock keeps ticking. And ticking. And ticking.
When it ticks over to yep, Logan's officially a full hour late, Virgil muffles a curse and gets up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The wind billows around his hood as he hurries across the street, ducking cars and avoiding other people walking around as the sun gets higher and higher and higher. Logan's street isn't far from here, just a few blocks over. His fingers itch at the sound of many passing conversations but he squeezes his hands shut.
No time for music, not right now. Not when he's on a mission.
Logan should've texted if he was running late. Logan always texts when he's running late. And the fact that he hasn't texted saying he's running late means that something is wrong with Logan or something's wrong with Virgil's phone. And given that their group chat has been blowing up all morning as Roman and Janus argue about some video game franchise and who's hotter and who's overrated means that Virgil's phone is working just fine.
So something's wrong with Logan. Which is making Virgil really fucking nervous.
He doesn't even realize his feet have carried him all the way up the stairs to Logan's house until his hand is raised to knock on the door. He does, shuffling a few paces back and waiting until the footsteps on the other side get closer.
"Oh, Virgil," Logan's mom says as she opens the door, "it's good to see you, honey. Are you and Logan still going out for breakfast?"
"Yes, uh, yes, ma'am. I think so, at least."
"You don't need to call me ma'am, honey, you can come in." She waves him inside, smiling kindly when he mumbles something along the lines of I want to 'cause you're always so nice to me, and turns up the stairs. "Logan! Logan, sweetheart, Virgil's here!"
No response. Yep, getting real nervous.
"Do you want to go up, honey? He'll react better if it's you getting him than me."
"Is—is everything okay?"
She looks at him for a moment, her mouth twisting from side to side, before she sighs. "Honestly, I think you've got a better chance of dragging him out of there than I do. He's very reasonable, isn't he? Always coming up with the perfect explanation for what he's doing."
"Uh huh."
"Which is why I think you've got a better chance of just dragging him out to go to breakfast, hm?" She winks as Virgil splutters slightly. "I'm only teasing you, honey. But on a serious note: please, if you can get him out of the house just for a little, I think some fresh air would do him good."
"I'll do my best, ma'am."
"That's a good boy. Go on, now."
Virgil quickly makes his way up the stairs, down the hall, right to Logan's door. Remus made them all signs for their rooms that indicate whether or not they're cool with having people come knock on their doors and for the most part, everyone's parents and siblings have respected them. Logan's has four different markers: Out, In – Disturbable, In – Not Disturbable, and Asleep. The pin is still listed next to Out.
Yep. Yep, yep, yep. All signs lead to being real nervous.
He knocks on the door. "Logan? Hey, L, it's, uh, it's Virgil."
Nothing.
"You, um, you didn't text saying you were late or anything, so I, uh, I got worried."
Still nothing.
"Logan? Logan, I need some sort of sign of life, buddy, or else I'm gonna come in."
When there's yet another round of nothing, he grits his teeth and carefully opens the door, preparing to meet an angry Logan who was just about to text you, Virgil, there wasn't any need for this, or a sleepy Logan who accidentally overslept—it happens, it might have only happened, like, once, but it is possible—or even a Logan who's just about to put his coat on and rush out, but…
But not the Logan who's passed out on his desk, his glasses still on his face and his notebook on the floor.
"Holy shit," Virgil mumbles, rushing over, "Logan? Logan, are you okay?"
He carefully lifts up Logan's arm to get his glasses off his face, wincing at the puddle of drool. The movement makes this high-pitched noise happen and he only belatedly realizes that's Logan making that noise—Logan's still asleep, somehow, but he's—oh, god, Logan's in pain.
"Hey, L," he calls quietly, giving Logan's shoulder a gentle shake, "hey, you gotta wake up, buddy, it's just me, okay? C'mon…"
"V-Virgil?"
"Hey, yeah, you got it, it's me—" he crouches down so Logan can see him— "hey, there he is."
Logan blinks. He's all bleary-eyed and sleep-mussed, his hair sticking up in the wrong places and a crease from where he'd been leaning against his shirt. He blinks a few more times, wincing at the sunlight slanting in through the window, before he cringes and brings a hand to his neck.
"Whoa, hey, what's going on?"
"Hurts."
"What hurts, bud?"
"My head," he whimpers, fuck, okay, Logan's really not okay, "my head hurts."
"Okay. I'm gonna go get you some water, okay? Can I go and do that?"
"Don't leave—wait, please—" a hand grabs his arm as he goes to pull away and Logan lets out another frightened noise— "it's so cold. You're so warm."
"I'm—I'm the warm one? Whoa, hey, hey, hey, I didn't mean it like that," he says, softening his tone when Logan shrinks back, "I just meant that—you know, I run cold as hell and you're…"
He trails off when he sees the tears bubbling at the corners of Logan's eyes. He comes back immediately, going to wrap his arms around Logan's shaking shoulders, muffling a curse when Logan just starts crying harder.
"Hey, hey, buddy, hey, it's okay. I'm right here, I'm not gonna go anywhere, I'm right here. I've got you, you're okay. You're all good, buddy, you hear me? Everything's gonna be okay, you're gonna get all of this out for me, I'm gonna go get you some water and painkillers for your headache, and then we're gonna go get breakfast and have a good day, yeah?"
"I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—"
"Hey, don't worry about it. You know how many times I've been late or missed something? I don't care about that, L, I care about you being okay." He runs his fingers through Logan's hair and Logan shudders. "You…you seem really sensitive right now, bud, have you…have you been dodging Patton's hugs again?"
Logan's silence is telling. Virgil sighs, his breath warming the top of his head, before he pulls away just enough to hook his arms around Logan's waist.
"C'mon," he grunts, lifting Logan up—yes, he is still strong enough to do that, thank you very much, Princey—and carrying him over to the bed, "you need a good cuddle before we go anywhere."
"So much—I had so much work to do, I hadda—I had to finish it, I'm sorry," Logan babbles into Virgil's shoulder as he situates them on the bed, "I didn't—didn't wanna be late, didn't mean to fall asleep, I—"
"Shh, shh, hey, calm down, it's okay. I'm not mad. You're okay, bud, I'm not gonna do anything." He coaxes Logan's head to the crook of his beck. "You're just gonna get some of this out for me, okay? I've got you, you're okay."
"But I gotta do my work!"
"You gotta not let yourself be a wreck first," Virgil points out, not unkindly, "you're stressing yourself out too much and it's gonna be okay, but you gotta—sheesh, Logan, just lemme cuddle you."
"…okay."
It doesn't matter that they end up going to brunch instead of breakfast, not when Logan's finally smiling again. A little sniffly, maybe, but he's at least smiling and his mom ruffles their hair and tells them to order whatever they want—she'll pay them back. No, it's much better because Logan isn't stressing too much about work but instead he's happy and letting Virgil take them on a long walk around the park until they can meet up with the rest of them and Patton can give him a big hug because letting yourself get touch-starved just so you can do your work isn't healthy, Logan. And then of course everyone else wants to hug Logan because Logan's just so huggable.
"Aw, just one more," Remus pouts when Logan says they're all hugging him too much, "just one more?"
Logan looks at Remus, looks at the rest of them, and rolls his eyes fondly as he holds out his arms.
"Just one more."
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oceanlipgloss · 10 months ago
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ICING ON THE CAKE
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LEVIATHAN.
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+ warnings: implicit suggestive themes, light angst, strong language.
+ female mc, feminine pronouns.
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Is cold sugar a thing?
Some souls are like iced sugar. No objective, sane person would ever say—or so much as think, for that matter—that this man is sweet.
‘How the fuck could he be?’
That’s what they would wonder.
And they were right in that.
There are times, however, when a cold shoulder summons a sugar rush. Playing hard-to-get can be a cool game. Except, this man wasn’t doing that. That coldness, that scorn, it was crafted from something bitter.
A dark past.
Did they know? That he, too, had once upon a time been an innocent child—a pretty, clueless creature holding its bloated heart with small hands, showing everyone its tears.
Very early. He had gotten corrupted by life much too early. That’s why he had become so icy.
Actually...he could be sweet as well, in a sense.
She remembered the jewel in her wet palm. Its sparkle was once dimmed with his blood. He had risked his soul to keep a promise, to protect a gem.
Warmth is something he did possess.
But to believe he would not die, to have faith that he could not be killed...
How so very arrogant of him.
Then again, is childhood's darkness not to blame? Had it not told him that he would always survive? Had it not whispered temptations of immortality in his ears and promised him that he would never die?
Beauty makes some people feel like their head is underwater. It cuts out everything else in the brain for a minute. Snide beauty, on the other hand, it has even greater charms still.
The coldness is just icing on the cake.
Being beautiful is marvellous, but being unapproachable makes it even better, that much greater.
Lovely faces bring about good deals. Ethereal existences often tend to get away with many things. Molten hearts. Broken brains. Filthy souls. Violent murder.
It would be too boring if beautiful kings were easy to have. Enchanting someone like him and bringing him to his knees, why should it even be a piece of cake?
Forget the pleasure of a challenge.
He was a rare, most alluring specimen. He should be very difficult—near impossible—to reach. Taking hold of his fingertips alone should be treacherous.
One has to try hard to get even the most simple of things, so why should luring him in be easy?
Excited for the wait, burning for the process, desperate for the result.
So ironic, so fun.
Winning him over would not merely be a magical experience, but an ultimate, legendary accomplishment; she would try until his tongue on her lips marked them forever, until his sweat on her body shimmered like stardust.
Oh, but he already wanted her. Lust and attraction just turned into problem killers. Apparently, she wouldn’t have to wait that long, or even try that much.
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+notes: the time for the last of my surviving ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ WIPs to take the stage has come. I don't quite know what I had in mind for this one, to be honest; it's been there for so long and has been really bothering me with its static presence for a while. And seeing that I had no clue about the direction it's meant to take, I finally decided to polish it a little, toss some word-vomit in, and simply put it up as is. It was either that or it's dead. I chose to salvage it, I guess. I thought it had potential and didn't want it to bid the world goodbye, yet I didn't know how I felt about it at first, though, and I'm too lazy and tired to find out—so it's whatever, I suppose lol but I think I like it. I'm just glad to have it off my hands and out of my notes because it was genuinely pricking my nerves :S
There are still a few more ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ WIPs each is only 1 line/2 lines long lol that I long ago scratched out of the equation, and those are annoying me very much too. I may either kill them off with regret (for some) and cold blood (for others), or post them someday soon/with time, but that's very unlikely. For now, however, I do not plan on writing anything new about the game's devils/angels—meaning unless I explicitly state in the notes within a ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ piece that an idea is new/recent, it's one of my old, buried WIPs revived and made into a finished fic.
[spoiler] also, this fic holds light inspiration from Leviathan's 'Bloodshed' story, particularly from the part in which Leviathan gives MC the magical jewel and it's implied that he got wounded so as to protect the jewel and keep his promise of gifting it to MC.
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+ MASTERLIST
+ AO3 POST
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©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨
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