#i do like dogs but i honestly wouldn’t choose to own one myself

[anxietyfrappuccino]

i understand not liking cats. there are just some animals that aren't our favorites and that aren't easy to get along with. what i don't understand is the absolute revolt that people who don't like cats feel towards them. it baffles me, the way people will literally shutter at the mention of cats just because they don't like them.

i myself am not a dog person, but i don't hate dogs or dislike them enough to treat them the way people who don't like cats treat cats. my initial reaction wouldn't be to kick, shove, run over, or shoot one. i wouldn't let loose a dog on the street just because i didn't like it. it's an animal, and it's meant to be cared for. if you don't like an animal and you see it while you're out, you leave it alone. if it's in your possession for whatever reason, you take care of it until you find someone who will care and love for it.

the world gave me reasons to potentially hate dogs, but i didn't take the bait. if you can't handle owning a cat, that's perfectly fine, and if you don’t like them, that's fine too. however, treating them/their existence like they were made to haunt/disturb you is not okay. all animals are just trying to get through life like the rest of us. the things we don't like about them, especially in regards to domesticated animals who often depend on us, are not enough to treat them like trash.

[frostluvrs]

“i keep seeing people defend ray by saying he can’t control his feelings and sand can move on if he wants; that ray can’t actually stop him and he needs to take responsibility for his own feelings and walk away” I haven’t seen this take but the fucking audacity, WHEN has Sand ever not taken responsibility over his feelings?!

The times Sand has gotten hurt over Ray, he has dealt with it himself and didn’t say anything to Ray, ignore him and tried to walk away, Ray is the one who keep pestering him!! “Sand needs to take responsibility for his feelings” he has been doing that!!! repeatedly!! Ray is the one who won’t leave him alone!! And Sand likes him and sees Ray is not well, obvs he is gonna give in because he is human being with feelings and wants to help him?

Sand is not Nick!! He is not going after Ray like a lap dog, the opposite actually! And when Sand tries to ignore Ray and move on, AGAIN, Ray is not gonna let him! (per the preview) Can you imagine if Mew did to Ray what Ray is doing to Sand? Reject him and every time Ray tried to move on, go after him and gave him hope again? Oh we wouldn’t hear the end of it!!

I feel like I am in crazy town lmao sorry for this heated rant and ty for answering my ask, glad it made you see things a little differently!! <3

honestly i need you to keep sending me things (especially after episode 8 i need to know your thoughts) because you’re making me think about what’s happening with sand’s character and his actions in such different ways!!!! even as a sand defender as i keep adverting myself i think you might be his number one because i completely agree with what you’re saying.

you hit the nail on the head with saying imagine if it was mew in this situation and he would be getting more hate than ray would be. i mean there were theories upon theories for so long that mew was stringing ray along for “evil manipulator mew” reasons and even with it being disproven people still think it.

and look at how people are talking about him using ray as a rebound this episode. yes it’s true that he’s using ray a rebound. yes it’s not exactly right to choose him as a rebound knowing how weak he is for mew and how much he wants mew to love him but i also don’t think he understands ray’s attachment to him like the audience does. and people act like ray is not also wrong for taking advantage of the fact that mew is also in a vulnerable spot too. there’s no way you’re telling me that ray doesn’t understand that he’s a rebound and that mew doesn’t actually like him either (unless he’s deluded himself). he just doesn’t care and will take mew’s love in any way he can and that includes going in and taking his chance knowing that mew is only accepting it because he wants a rebound (and possibly wants to hurt top even if unconsciously even though he says he’s not looking for revenge anymore but we’ll see about that one next episode)

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 7 - November 27, 2023: “BRIDGE”

This could, perhaps, be the most important note I’ve written.

Suicide isn’t what I thought it was. I hope people start to understand it more. Understand that it’s not some crazy person who’ve reached their wit’s end and has nowhere else to turn… so they decide to end it. Hell, even suicide prevention specialists tell you to reach out and talk to someone. But in my recent experience, my only experience ever with these types of issues, that’s not what’s going on.

Is this a suicide letter? One that I hope someone might find years after I’ve left the earth? I don’t know. But I do know how I feel and how I would like to better help people understand the non-end-of-the-world sense of this feeling.

If I were to take my own life today, I wonder what people would think? Thoughts about how unhappy I was or if my mental state was in what they deem a “positive place.” Maybe more selfish thoughts from them… “what did I do wrong?” “How could I have done something different?” Or the selfish thought that my suicide is somehow selfish itself. I mean, if we’re not entitled to leave the world how we choose, what freedoms do we really have?

My own death isn’t caused by anybody, it’s because I’m tired. Pay attention to that word, because it’s easy to make your own assumptions about what “tired” could mean. I’m not depressed, at least I don’t think I am. I’m not sure what that would feel like. I’m not tired of someone’s shit not have I been pushed in a direction of thought. No, instead, I’m just tired. Tired of fighting one day after another to make ends meet. Tired of consistently thinking about those departed. Tired of worrying about what everyone thinks about me. I’m tired of trying so hard every day to be positive and one backwards comment from someone can have me in my head for days.

Suicide isn’t a cheap or easy way out. I miss my grandma, my dad, Logan and Milo. I’ll never see them again, but I can imagine someone thinking “oh, but he did this, so I guess he won’t miss me.” That’s fair, except I won’t have to deal with it. Is that cheap or easy? Maybe. But maybe I feel like I’m owed some gratitude. The gratitude of people letting go of something I would do for myself and only myself.

People will be quick to assume that any problem I have can be simply fixed and shouldn’t have led to what could or would be inevitable. My washer doesn’t work, I’m broke and the bills continue to pile up, I live a life where I believe the only way anybody likes me is if I’m doing for them, I’m losing my memory at a rapid pace and it scares the hell out of me. I worry about losing my mom, who I often feel is the only person who doesn’t expect anything out of me.

Sometimes I think the only reason I keep going now, doing this thing we call “living,” is to try to help those I love. And honestly, the list of people I feel love for is shorter than it ever has been. I want to be there for my mom as she ages and can’t take care of herself. I want to be there for Canaan and help them anyway I can to achieve their ultimate goals of making it in the film industry. I want to be there for my friends to continue to give them a platform to live out their dreams and possibly make a big splash in the wrestling industry. I want to run this wrestling company to continue to afford an opportunity to people who otherwise wouldn’t get one. I want to never put my dogs in a position to have to wonder where I went.

So, my life now is like a bridge. These feelings I have and have had… are they potholes in my journey across troubled waters or am I reaching my destination and these feelings are the land I sink my feet into permanently?

Don’t worry, I’ll continue this in part 2 sometime down my road. 🖤

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Helloo! I Love your writing! your a amazing writter!! If you are still accepting request it could be a oneshot,maybe, if jason todd was platonic yandere with damian's twin sister (reader). Perhaps when she was a child she was deemed worthless, even by her brother and mother and ran away. And well, Jason found her and raised her as a sister (or daughter). Years later she meets her brother who lives with her father (bruce) but she doesn't want to know anything about them and Jason is not going to allow them to take her away either🤔🤷‍♀️ Thanks!!

Home

Worthless. Unwanted. Burden. That’s all you were to them. All you would ever be to them. Your own mother and brother, whom you shared your mother’s womb with, who were so supposed to love and care for you unconditionally, were the first to berate and turn their backs on you.

At least your Grandfather had been more tolerable towards you. He saw potential, something neither your mother or brother could see for themselves. He knew you would be exceptional one day; with time, consistency, and intense training, you would have a place amongst the League of Assassins.

But your Mother begged to differ. She knew her children, at least that’s what she said. She knew you wouldn’t amount to anything, not like Damian. And for that you were sure it was only a matter of time before she took matters into her own hands, so you ran.

You ran as far as you could and you never looked back. You never wanted to see the face of the people who hurt you the most ever again.

Never once did you think you would ever feel what it was like to be wanted, to be loved and cared for. To feel protected. To feel a sense of belonging. But that’s just what he ended up having to give.

He was there for you when no one else was and vice versa. He had your back and you had his.

The two of you were a team. A family. You and Jason.

You kicked ass together, taking names along the way. Tonight was like any other; an arms deal was taking place down at the pier. You and Jason were making quick work of all of them and it seemed like things were going without a hitch. That was until a stray bullet pierced through your left side.

You were down. You were bleeding. That’s all Jason needed to see red.

He didn’t hold anything back as he punched, kicked and shot his way to your side. He was quick to tend to your wound, having his own make shift first aid kit on him just in case of something like this.

Anyone who knew Jay would never in a million years imagine him to act so much like a mother hen but that’s exactly how he was with you.

You were always surprised at just how gentle he was with you. Nothing like the people you had left far behind, who would only live on in your more unsavory memories.

“I’m fine, Jay. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You tried to reassure him. You knew he wasn’t going to let you out on patrol for a few days at least. Maybe a week even. If you were lucky.

“I knew I should have had you stay home tonight. Now look at you; you’re hurt. And it’s my fault. I could have taken care of this one on my own.” He seethed, blaming himself like he always did when you got hurt.

“Really, Jay? There was no way you would have been able to take ‘em all out on your own tonight. Besides, we are a team. Remember?”

You didn’t give him the chance to respond before you continued, “I knew what I was getting myself into. I’ve been through worse. I’ve trained through worse. I’ll be just fine, Jay. Don’t go blaming yourself. Alright?”

He looked at you for a good while, staring into your eyes, seeing the life shining through them. But before he had the chance to say what he wanted to, a voice pulled both your attentions away from one another.

“Jason. Y/n. Are you alright?” It was only a matter of time before either of you would have a run in with Batman. You knew Jason had a past with the Bat but you still had yet to meet the Dark Knight. The man who was your father; Bruce Wayne.

Out of your peripheral, you could see Jason visibly tensing. It was almost like he was getting ready for a fight.

And as if things couldn’t get worse, Batman wasn’t alone either. His newest Robin was taking place at his side, much like an obedient dog would.

It was no secret who the all too familiar face belonged too; your brother, at least that’s what you once referred to him as. But now he was just Damian to you. Nothing but a stranger.

“Father, is this really necessary? Can’t we do this another time?” Damian inquired.

“No. We’re doing this now.” Bruce answered, never taking his eyes off you. Jason wasn’t liking this at all. Not one bit.

“Is your side alright, Y/n? If I could look at it, I’m sure I have something to treat it.” He said, taking a few tentative steps closer, reaching into his utility belt, but Jason wasn’t having any of that.

Stepping in between Bruce and yourself, making sure to shield you, Jason replied for you, “It’s already been taken care of. We don’t need your help.”

Pulling yourself up onto your feet, used to pain by now to easily push through it, you choose to speak for yourself, “Jay’s right. We’ve already tended to it. Thank you but your help isn’t necessary.”

It was silent for a while. Tension was filling the air, heavy and thick enough you could cut through it.

It was Bruce who spoke first, “I would like to discuss something of the utmost import-“

“Don’t bother. We’re aren’t wanting any part of whatever you have going on.” Jason interrupted.

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Like we would want you, Todd.”

“Damian.” Bruce warned. “I wanted to discuss this with Y/n, Jason.” Jason glared at both Bruce and Damian but stayed silent.

Taking a few steps closer, Bruce was directly in front of you now. Not too close for comfort but close enough to still be towering over you. “As your father, I want you to come live in the manor. We want you to be part of the family. Our family. Both Damian and I would prefer you to be with us. We can discuss patrol and everything else later, but right now there is a room already waiting for you.”

You looked from Bruce to Damian, to the hand Bruce had placed on your shoulder during his speech, to Jason’s hand tightly gripping Bruce’s wrist. You didn’t have to think twice about your decision.

“No thank you. Honestly, I don’t want anything to do with either of you. I cut ties with Damian and Talia a long time ago for a reason. Although I will admit there was a time I wanted to meet you, to see if maybe I could be a family with you but I came across Jason instead. And I couldn’t be more thankful that I did. He is my family now. And that is just where I plan on staying.”

Jason couldn’t hide the shit eating grin that had spread across his face, not that he wanted to anyway. The thought had crossed his mind that he may have to use his guns once more tonight ‘cause he sure as hell wasn’t going to just let them take you. He wasn’t going to standby and let his family be ripped away. Not now, not ever.

“Let’s get back home, Little Stunner. I think we both deserve some much needed rest after tonight.”

It was just you and him again.

Just how he preferred it.

[just-antithings]

I think the weirdest thing about antis for me, is that I simply don’t understand their morality. I’m sure they have some (given on how insistent they are about being more moral than us proshippers), but like.

My entire morality is based on “does it hurt real people”. (And further, “does it hurt animals/the earth”)

I have no idea what antis base their morality on. It isn’t “don’t hurt people” or they wouldn’t be bullying people on the internet for having different morals. It feels very much to me like their individual morality is based on squicks, which is honestly an even worse and less consistent morality system than people who base their morality on a book that may or may not be historical fiction; at least that has a specific (if interpretable) list of Things That Are Bad, and Things That Are Good.

The whole “if fiction isn’t reality then threats aren’t real so I can threaten you” thing falls apart for either of two reasons: a) the theoretical anti who is saying this does believe that “fiction” affects reality, and so doing it would be morally bad if their own morality was consistent and option b) if their morality allows for the dehumanisation of someone to the point that their own morals no longer apply in how they treat you uh. I have nothing. This is just bigotry, rebranded. (Not like these people do anywhere near as much harm as most bigots, they’re too online - aren’t we all - but nevertheless, it’s the same principles, used on a set of people you think “deserve” it.)

“Does it hurt people”: fiction can only hurt people who consent to interact with it. It’s written by someone (who consented to writing it), and consent is actively achieved by the person reading is as they’re reading. There is no one else involved. Two parties, both consenting. Any hurt gained is masochism, and while I’m not much for masochism myself, y’all have fun with that.

As for propaganda: that is much the same. It can’t change your mind unless you allow it to and/or don’t know enough to consent to allowing it to. The second part: you’ve reached the age of consent (presumably. Some of you reading this might be kids, idk, and if you are I think maybe propaganda should be kept away from kids spaces. If you specifically seek it out, it’s your own problem; equally so it is your problem if you seek out smut). 16-18 is perfectly old enough to understand what’s going on (which is why it’s the common legal age of consent), or to know you need to ask if you don’t.

(Some things that hurt some people don’t hurt other people. These things are bad to put upon those they hurt, and are fine for everyone else. This includes, but is not limited to: peanuts, cotton, dogs, literal water, loud noises, fictional Bad Things… the closest thing I personally have to a trigger is probably stickers, of all things, which if I see one stuck on human skin makes me feel like vomiting. I’m not kidding. I also understand that other people don’t, generally, have such a visceral reaction to stickers. Having stickers be made illegal would certainly make my life more comfortable. It is also an insane idea. Some people, gods forgive them, actually like stickers. So I do my best to avoid them.)

If seeing some things in fiction is triggering for you, block it. Blacklist it. Unfollow people. Block them. Try out whitelists, if blacklisting isn’t enough. Make sure you’re using a media platform that actually works for you. Use rec lists, and doesthedogdie (and equivalents), and ask for personal recommendations from friends instead of charging in blind. As long as people have freedom, people will choose things and like things that you don’t. As an adult, it’s up to you to monitor where you go and keep yourself safe. As a minor, if you can’t do it for yourself, you should get your parents to do it (and if your immediate reaction to that is “no my parents wouldn’t let me watch/read/whatever thing I like” then well. ??? Stop complaining about needing things to be censored and start being an adult and censoring your own things maybe. I should hope that your parents are good enough parents and that you’re just being the rebellious child that teens are, but if they’re not and you’re parenting yourself, learning how to censor things appropriately for yourself is a very important adult skill that you need to learn asap. I’m sorry your parents aren’t parenting, but that doesn’t make me your parent).

👆👆👆👆

[thefanficmonster]

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

[dogwatch05]

The Good Villain

Happy New Years and Space Dog is not forgotten about, just put on a back burner. Need to work out some plot issues.

Edit: I forgot a paragraph…sorry lol

The villain glanced back at the "hero" as they struggled in their restraints. Sighing, the villain turned to fully face the hero. "Here we are again, and again you struggle in the same way. Why should this time be any different?” The hero looked up from his struggles to look the villain in the eyes. "It won't be any different this time. You will monologue, I will escape, we will fight, I will win. It will always be this way for the rest of time or until one of us gives in.” Villain shook his head sadly.

"How many times have we fought?”

"What?"

"How many times have we fought?"

Hero tilted his head to the side, thinking. "I don't know” he finally admitted.

“465 times. 465 times I have captured you and you have escaped.”

“ and every time I have foiled your plans, what of it?”

“ You have never foiled my plans. In fact you have only ever followed them. Do you really think me that dumb? Every time you have ever escaped there was always something within reach to help you escape. A shard of glass here, a screw there or a coin just within foot reach. Do you think me that careless? Had I truly wanted to restrain you… actually, tell me how you would escape.”

Hero again thought about what Villain had said. “ why would I do that?” Villain grinned,” humor me.”

Rolling his eyes, hero looked around for items he could use."Well I assume that you found my tracker so I can't use that-“

“Yes, I found one in both pockets.”

“Okay, well what about my pocket knife?”

“In the same pocket as the tracker.”

“Boot heel knife?”

“Long gone.”

“Explosive hair pin?”

“Ye-wait what?”

“My explosive hair pin. When I tap it, it sends a message to missiles to target my location.”

Villain stepped forward and carefully removed the pin. “ Do you mean this pin? Yes, you do. Do you know how dangerous that thing is? What should happen to you if you should forget that it is there and run your hand through your hair. You careless fool, you'd have targeted missiles coming at you before you could even realize it. Honestly, I take this for your own protection as much as mine.”

Hero looked at Villain curiously. "Why do you care so much about me? I'd have figured that if I accidentally blew myself up it would have been good for you?"

"I only became Villain because it kept you from becoming a villain. When I first took notice of you, you were about to make a serious mistake, so I provoked our first fight. You became Hero and I became Villain. You might say that you wouldn’t have gone through with the act, but that wasn’t a risk I want willing to take. You had too much to live for to go to jail at such a young age. As I said earlier, you never foiled my plans but simply played into them. By keeping you occupied with fighting me, I made sure that you never fell back to your old ways, but instead learned values and morals by watching what I portrayed a villain as and now a year and a hundred days later, I finally feel like I can step down and let you choose your own path without me there to guide you. Are you still clueless, naive, and idealistic? Yes, but you can only loose those qualities with experience. Just do me a favor and stay the man you are at your core all right?”

Villain walked over to the door, paused, and called back over his shoulder before striding out of the room…and Hero’s life “But since you're so confident in your abilities to escape, you can get out without my help.”

[simp4reggie]

Can you do a Luke x reader where the reader is Luke’s best friend and Luke is telling her about his developing crush on Julie. But unbeknownst to Luke, Y/N (the reader) had been harboring a crush on Luke, but she has to deal with seeing Luke and Julie being playful with each other, constantly feeling jealous but wanting Luke to be happy. This leads the reader to get distant and starts avoiding Luke. The bad notices this and tries to contact her, at this time Luke realizes that he has feelings for Y/N. Then they make up and have a happy ending!! Make it fluffy, good luck!!

Only Took 25 Years

Luke x Reader

Word Count: 3014 Words

A/N: @mggpleasedontlookhere I did it a slight bit different but I hope you like it! 

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Back in 1995, we all died. The boys were rehearsing for their gig at the Orpheum. I was in the “audience” watching them perform their hearts out, specifically Luke. He’s been my best friend since we were very young but for years I’ve always felt a little more about him. He’s the sweetest, most energetic person I know. He’s like a puppy dog. It kills me to know he doesn’t feel the same way. 

I heard the final strum of ‘Now or Never’ pulling me from my thoughts. I saw Luke waving me over to the stage. Behind me, a waitress clapped and cheered for them. “Thank you. We’re Sunset Curve,” Reggie said and winked at her . 

“Good job guys! This might be the best one yet,” I cheered walking on the stage.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Bobby said, still on the high from performing. “Too bad we wasted that on sound check!”

I gave them each a hug but when I got to Luke it felt like it lingered longer than the rest of them. It was probably just in my head. 

“Wait until tonight, man, when this place gets packed with record execs,” Luke said with his arm around my shoulders. 

“Alex, you were smoking,” I heard Reggie say. 

“Oh no. I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire,” Alex shrugged off the compliment. 

I rolled my eyes. “Could you just own your awesomeness for once?” He smiled back at me and said, “All right, I was killing it.” We all laughed before Luke suggested getting street dogs before the show to fuel up. Reggie, Alex, and I all agreed while Bobby got sidetracked and started walking towards the waitress from before.

“Hey Bobby! Where you going?” Luke removed his arm from my shoulder to go catch up with him. All of a sudden I felt cold like my skin missed the feeling of his touch. I shook the feeling off and went to stand next to the guys.

“You guys are really good. I see a lot of bands. Been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.” The waitress said to the guys.

“Thanks. That's what we do this for. I’m Luke by the way.” “Hi! I’m Reggie.” “Alex.” “Bobby,” The guys went down the line and stared at me. “Oh well, I’m (Y/N). I’m just a friend of the band.”

“She’s more than a friend,” Luke starts to say. My heart starts to race. “She’s the one who makes sure everything is set. Our instruments, the club dates, everything. Without her we’re just four boys without a clue.” I give him a little nudge. 

“Give yourself some credit. Without me you could get on any stage and become rock stars.” He gave me a side hug.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting all of you. I’m Rose.”

“Uh here’s our demo and a t-shirt. Size: beautiful.” Reggie hands her a CD and a shirt he must have grabbed from the stage before walking over. 

“I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” Rose says putting it on her shoulder. 

“Oh good call. Whenever they get wet, they kinda just fall apart in your hands.” I say to her. The guys stare at me unamused. “What?”

“Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?” Bobby says obviously trying to get some alone with Rose. 

“Yeah he had a hamburger for lunch,” Luke says while walking away. We all follow him until we're outside the theatre. 

We decide to go get street dogs a couple blocks away. After making our hot dogs off the back of the oldsmobile, we choose to sit on the couch available squishing together so we fit. 

“You guys, this is awesome! You’re playing the Orpheum!” I exclaimed. “I can’t even count how many bands have played here and then ended up being huge! You’re going to be legends.”

Luke wrapped his arm that wasn’t holding a hot dog around me. “And you’ll be there every step of the way. You’re just as a part of the band as each of us.” I smile at him. “Eat up. ‘Cause after tonight, everything changes.” 

We all took a bite of our hot dogs. There was something off about my hot dog. I couldn’t find a word to describe it. And not in a good way. Alex voiced my thoughts, “That’s a new flavor.” I looked at him and he looked back at me like “Should we really be eating this?”

“Chill man. Street dogs haven’t killed just yet.” And then they did.

After we died, we ended up going into this black room where Alex ended up crying, a lot. Then after an hour ended up in their old studio. We found out it's 2020 and a lot has changed. After a lot of screaming and pleading, the girl who lives there now, Julie, ended up letting us stay there. Now here we are a couple days later, about to watch her perform for her teacher for the first time since her mom died. 

Luke gave her an old Sunset Curve that they never got a chance to record. I know it hasn't been long but I feel like Luke has started growing infatuated with her. After we heard her sing for the first time, he hasn’t stopped talking about how talented she is. I know he doesn’t want him to know but I saw him in the studio looking through lyrics using different handwriting. I’m surprised he’s not talking about that yet. 

The pop group that is performing ends and the principal goes on stage. Julie’s friend says to her “Now’s your chance. Go talk to her. I’ll see you in music class.”

“What are you waiting for? This is your time.” Reggie looks at Julie who might “yak in a bowl” if she waits any longer. 

“I just don’t think I had enough time to work on the song.” Julie says worried. 

“I wouldn’t have given you the song if I didn’t think you were gonna rock it. Now there’s a piano on that stage with your name on it.” Luke convinces her. Julie goes backstage and walks on looking nervous. 

“Oh I can’t watch.” I go to turn around but Luke puts his arm around to keep me in place. When Julie looks at us we all give her a thumbs up, mine not as enthusiastic as the others. 

Everyone in the auditorium starts to leave, she starts to play. The piano sounds beautiful with her voice. The occasional student walks over to watch but most of them already have their feet out the door. Then there are lights put on her. The song starts to reach the chorus and all of a sudden I don’t feel Luke’s arm around me and I don’t see the guys. That’s when I notice that I hear cheering and look up to see them on stage with her. After putting two and two together I realize that they are visible to the audience. How is that even possible?

I go run up to the front of the stage. “How is this even happening?” I yell up to them. Reggie looks at me and shrugs. They look so happy. They never thought this was even possible. I look over at Luke and see Julie singing with him. I get a twinge of jealousy wishing I could have this connection with him but I never will. They have so much chemistry on stage I don’t even want to watch. I spend the rest of the time watching Alex and Reggie. 

At the end of the song, they bow and the boys disappear with their instruments. I go out into the hallway to find them pacing around. “Did that just happen?’’ They turn around and give me a massive hug.

“I can’t believe that just happened! Everyone could see us. Please tell me I”m not the only one freaking out!” Alex starts panicking so I walk over and rub his back to calm him down. 

“Bro, I think we’re all freaking out!” Luke eagerly says. “People can see us play. How cool is that?”

“So cool.” Reggie smiles at Luke and they do a little handshake.

They start talking about the performance but my mind keeps going back to Julie and Luke together on that stage. 

“Guys i'm gonna go home.”

“What why?” They say together.

“I’m just not feeling too well. Talk to Julie and see what’s causing this. I’m happy for you.” I see Luke step forward but I poof out before he can say anything.

Back at the studio, I start to spiral downward. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can barely pick something up. I realize being at the studio is doing nothing to help me so I go for a walk on the beach. It made me realize how much I missed being alive and feeling the sand between my toes when the guys and I needed to get away from our families. The nights we would spend here watching the sunset, which inspired the band name. 

Before I know it the sunset comes and goes. The guys are definitely home at this point. I poof back to see them pacing around. “(Y/N)!” Luke runs up to me. “Where have you been? We were getting worried. 

“Just went for a walk to clear my head. A lot has been changing recently.” I walk past him to sit on the couch. I need to talk to someone about this. “Alex, can I talk to you for a minute, alone.”

Alex looks over at Luke and Reggie as if telling them to go. Luke looks a little offended that I don’t want to talk to him but he poofs out first. Reggie follows after him. After they’re both gone, he checks behind the door to make sure they’re not spying and then walks over to the couch and sits down. 

“What’s going on (Y/N)?” 

“A lot, honestly.”

“Well it must be if you don’t want to talk to Luke about it.” He looks at me knowingly. “Is it about him?”

“How do I say I’ve been in love with him for over 25 years?” Alex just stares at me like it wasn’t brand new information. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me but Reggie is oblivious to everything. Why did you disappear after the performance though?”

“Did you not see him and Julie on stage together? They totally had chemistry. I can’t compete with that.” I see him look at me with pity. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I-I’m not looking at you in any way. I’m just paying attention.” I roll my eyes. “But in all seriousness, are you going to talk to him about this?”

“Of course not. He doesn’t like me back. He’s my best friend and I wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way if he actually said to my face.” I can’t picture my life without Luke in it and I don’t ever want to experience it. 

“Well, ignoring him isn’t going to help either. He was worried about you when you left and even more when we came back and you were gone. He needs you, too. He needs someone to be there to boost his ego.” He nudges me. I chuckle.

“You’re right,” I nudge him back. “Thank you for talking to me. I needed to get it off my chest.

“No problem. I’m always here for you.” I give him a big hug. We may be ghosts but I at least get to have these moments with the boys. 

“Oh. By the way, we asked Julie to join the band and she said yes. That’s okay, right?” Alex said quickly.

“Yeah. It’s your band, you don’t need my permission.”

Weeks go by and it’s getting harder to watch Julie and Luke sing together. I can see from the way Luke looks at her that he likes her. I’ve been thinking about my conversation with Alex about how much he needs me but he’s been going to Julie more often that it doesn’t feel like he does. Because of this I’ve been spending more and more time at the beach. Only Alex knows where I’m going in case of emergencies. 

“Hey.” I hear to the left of me. I look to see Luke standing there. 

“Hey. How did you know I was here?”

“I asked Alex. You’ve only been talking to him recently. I didn’t know I would have to find out what’s going on with my best friend from someone besides her,” He sits down in the sand next to me. “But of course, even Alex won’t tell me because he’s too good a friend.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I turn away from him.

“You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been dismissive. You’ve been acting weird ever since we performed at the spirit rally. You’re never around anymore.” He tries to get me to look at him but I refuse. “Fine. If you’re going to ignore me, I don’t even know why I’m going to try.” He poofs out. I start crying right there. I know that I said it would be hard to not have him in my life but now I don’t know because I don’t know which one feels worse. 

I hear another noise and I turn, hoping Luke came back but  of course not. “Oh, it’s you.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that.” Alex takes the spot where Luke was not too long ago. “Look, I know it’s difficult but try not to be too hard on the guy. He doesn’t know how you feel.”

“It’s not just about that. I know that we’re dead. Okay? I’m not dumb but it still hurts that I can’t help in the ways I used to. I was the one in charge of booking clubs and managing the tour dates. Now, I can’t do that because nobody can see me. I know its bullshit and there’s other things to be upset about. I just miss being an important part of this band,” I stop for a second but he doesn’t say anything so I keep going. “Too much is changing and I can’t handle it. I love you Alex, I do. And I am so thankful that you’re here right now but Luke was the one I was going to about this stuff. I can’t now, not only because I am gut wrenchingly , painstakingly, heartbreakingly IN LOVE with him, but because he’s spending every waking moment with Julie. I just, I don't know what to do.” Once I’m done I just let my back hit the sand. 

“Yes, you do.” I hear a voice that’s not Alex and I’m really hoping it doesn't belong to Luke. However, as soon as I open my eyes I see him looking over me. “You always know what to do.” 

I stand up to look at him and notice that Alex left us alone. “Luke... what are you doing back here?”

“After I went back home, I realized something. I couldn’t leave you alone. Obviously, you had something going on. It shouldn’t have mattered if you told me anyway. Just that you weren’t alone.” 

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough. I didn’t know you felt that way. About any of it. I know it’s hard that you can’t help like you used to. It’s not bullshit, okay? You helped us so much and now it may feel like we don’t need you but we most definitely do. Who’s going to keep us sane? Alex? Seriously, he cried for 25 years with no hug and he won’t let us forget it! No, you will. You have been there since the beginning and you are a massive part of this band. You always will be.” Tears are streaming down his face.

“What about Julie?”

“What about her?”

“You’ve been spending so much time with her. Outside of the band and song writing. All you do now is hang out with her. I miss you so much, Luke. You have no idea.” I turn away from him like before.

“Nope. No.” He pulls me back to face him. “You’re not shutting me out again. You’ve spent more time here than you have at home. You can’t do that and then talk about me not seeing you more.”

“Luke you know that’s different.”

“No, it’s not.” He stops.

“What do you mean?” I stare at him, waiting for the words to come but won’t be prepared to hear.

“All of the time I spent writing and singing on stage, whenever I was hanging out with Julie, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time I was singing I looked at you in the audience but you weren’t looking at me. You were looking at someone else.”

“I couldn’t look at you. You were looking at Julie. You have a connection with her.”

“I have a connection with everybody I sing with. Hell, I have a connection with Reggie when I sing with him. But neither of them are you, (Y/N). I love you.”

“You what?” I walk closer to him.

“You heard me.” 

“Say it again.” I demand.

“I love you.” Luke was right. I do know what to do. I threw my arms around him and put my lips on his. Our mouths molded together like a perfect fit. I felt alive again.

“I love you too.” I said against his lips. He let me go. 

“Good or else that would’ve been awkward.” I laughed. I can’t help but hug him again. He hugs me back harder than before, resting his chin on my head. “God, I love you. It feels so good to say that.” 

 I look up at him. It feels so good to be in his arms. It feels so good to be able to hold him the way I wanted to. It only took 25 years and a hot dog.

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Requests are still open! Feel free to send some my way

- Maddie xxx

[vidalinav]

A Kinder Sea: Prologue

Summary:  After the IC give Nesta an ultimatum Nesta chooses instead to support herself, cutting herself off from them completely and so begins Nesta’s journey of finding a job and falling in love with everyday life (Slice of Life/Fix-it Fic) 

Masterlist, Chapter List 

“I no longer know if I wish to drown myself in love, vodka, or the sea.” Franz Kafka

~

Nesta walked away from the estate with little more than her pride and her ale sodden shoes. Gods knew she didn’t leave with her sanity. In fact, sanity had not been present as she told her sister to sod off. Her youngest sister, who said she’d cared, but who wasn’t exactly convincing. To her other sister who Nesta supposed was supposed to be there but wasn’t even there in the room. To the others who judged so… blatantly for people who claimed to not be judging at all.

Nesta laughed.

Hypocrites! She wanted to call them—probably did though she couldn’t remember the exact words she’d said. Her anger had roared louder than her thoughts and Nesta thought she might have covered her ears. Her rage like a mother comforting her child, yelling the bullies and the bold adults away. The one’s who’d forgotten who they’d been speaking to.

Nesta had not forgotten who she was.

So, she had given them an ultimatum.

They could keep their money and they’d leave her alone, or… they would never see her again. That was the other option, wasn’t it? The human lands. Well, she preferred to be hated in closer proximity, she’d told them. What did it matter if she was here or there? Without their money she was free.

They were under no obligation to give it to her, and she was under no obligation to sit there and endure the conversation. And it wasn’t hard to negotiate that when they were empty threats at best. They were counting on her approval, her agreement because she’d been drunk the night before, wasted and wasting a life, and there were four of them who sat so tall and powerful talking down to her, deciding for her what she could and could not do—what she could or could not feel.

Well, Nesta felt it all and she felt it clearly and most days she hoped to feel it again, because some nights she couldn’t feel anything at all. But somewhere in that heart of hers, she’d felt betrayed. Exposed. And a heart exposed was an easy target. She’d learn that when she was young and learned it well.

Maybe they wanted to never see her again. She often felt that way too.

Either way, she’d had enough of them… tired of them and of so many things, and she wasn’t going to be a dog on a leash, happily submitting to its owner after she was finished being trained and broken in. They should’ve known she wouldn’t submit.

But Nesta supposed they didn’t know her at all and now… they wouldn’t have the chance.  

Good riddance, she told herself as she walked back to her apartment on the other side of town. She cursed them all for bringing her here as she laid a hand above her eyes, the sun shining too brightly. Her body already hurt from the trek, and Nesta cursed the cauldron for making her without wings among other things. But Nesta cursed life, itself, for the headache already beginning to form.

She’d have to… clean her apartment, probably. Look presentable. Look for a job. Try to stay upright and moving. Nesta doubted she’d have much of a chance when she was already exhausted, and she’d only made it down a few winding streets.

But she was on her own, and Nesta clung to that thought, as if she might hug the words enough to bring her comfort.  

She was on her own and…

What else could she do?

~ 

Permanent Taglist:

@my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @arinbelle, @thewhelk,

~

I don’t know I just prefer Nesta angrier and more stubborn, and I suppose Nesta being angry would have actually made sense if she’d not been already at rock, rock bottom, where she’d stopped fighting. Because that’s what made the difference, one would think. But honestly, Nesta lost a lot of agency in her weakened mind frame in this book that I started thinking that wow her anger must have been a protection. A seemingly good one for how often she was used without it. I didn’t like that and I didn’t like acosf as you all know. So I’m keeping the aspects I like and dumping the rest. 

This is my comfort fic now. 

This eventually will get happier but I had to get this ugly part out of the way, which is why it’s super short and maybe not the most complicated thing I’ve ever written. Alas. I almost re-read the first six chapters, and omg I got angry like it was the first time. Had to stop that shit immediately. Never doing that again. So I wrote this and we move. 

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 4: IN THE REIGN OF TERROR: THE ADVENTURES OF A WESTMINSTER BOY(1888)

1. The Introduction

Well hello there again, dearest readers! I’m back at it again and this time I brought you something more obscure.

Honestly, I would’ve never found out about this book had I not seen the category for books set in the French Revolution era on Wikipedia after a deliberate google search.

“In the Reign of Terror” is an adventure novel aimed at young boys that was published in 1888 by one G. A. Henty, an English novelist who has other adventure novels to his name too, but today we’ll only take a look at this one.

It’s available on Project Gutenberg in the ebook format and is in public domain so it’s free to download, which is how I obtained the book.

2. The Summary

The book takes place in the French Revolution era, specifically from 1790 to about 1792. It tells the story of Harry Sandwith, a boy whose physician father sends him from London to Burgundy to live with Marquis de St. Caux and his family.

As the brother of the Marquis had been cured by Harry’s father during his stay in London, the entire arrangement was his idea. The Marquis himself also believes that by having an English companion, his sons can learn a lot about English customs while Harry learns the language and the traditions of France.

But as the Revolution is drawing nearer than ever, clouds gather above the heads of Harry’s host family and Harry himself...

This is the basic premise of the story, but how did the finished product turn out? Let’s find that out for ourselves, Citizens!

3. The Story

Now, at first the story itself seems a bit implausible on the level of the premise. The Marquis believes that his sons should learn a thing or two about masculinity and sports from Harry, as English boys are supposedly more manly than their “feminine” French peers.

I find it hard to believe that a French nobleman would think this way but I was still willing to suspend my disbelief somewhat because Anglophiles do exist and despite the rivalry between France and the UK, the two countries did borrow bits and pieces of culture from each other.

Here’s the part that gave me pause and kind of ruined the experience for me. The entire book reeks of a sense of English superiority. Harry, the main character, is English and is portrayed as the bravest, strongest and most masculine member of the cast, while his French companions, Ernest and Jules, the sons of the Marquis, are basically treated like feminine “sissies”.

(Spoiler alert!)

For example, in the beginning of Harry’s adventures, the daughters of the Marquis are attacked by a rabid dog and who saves them? Harry, of course. This is one of the instances where the author demonstrates how strong English boys are and this is the moment after which Harry is finally seen as an equal by the noble siblings.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for patriotism and taking pride in your country. I’m Russian and proud of it. However, too much pride and you get this obnoxious sense of superiority. If you need a prime example of how that usually plays out, look at the Axis during WW2.

What Henty chooses to portray is specifically a sense of superiority. Characters like Harry’s father take pride in the fact that England has less strict class divisions, that apparently English commoners have already obtained more liberties while the French peasants are merely a mob of bloodthirsty savages, etc.

Don’t know about you, Citizens, but I really don’t like such narratives shoved in my face and considering how often this nationalism shows up, I had a lot of trouble getting through the story.

I’m all for healthy patriotism that acknowledges the good and the bad in one’s country but this is just too much nationalism for me and I believe that the book would’ve been more enjoyable without this narrative showing up every couple of pages or so like jumpscares in a bad horror movie.

4. The Characters

I know this was the 19th century so the audiences were probably not pampered with complex stories and characters as much yet, but honestly I didn’t find Harry a truly likable and relatable protagonist.

(Spoiler alert!)

He starts out as a pretty average school student but while in France he proves to be heroic - killing a rabid dog, slaying a man eating wolf (not completely by himself) and generally always proving himself to be the manly hero that Ernest and Jules can never be. Basically it was easy to predict that he will emerge from any trouble victorious so I didn’t have many reasons to be worried about him.

The sons and the daughters of the Marquis all end up liking him. Too much may I add.

In short, I personally got a bit of Harry Stu vibe. 😉

He does have one glaring flaw that unfortunately doesn’t do him any favors in my eyes. The English superiority complex that the author expresses in the story shines in Harry brighter than the Sun. He doesn’t express much empathy either.

(Spoiler alert!)

When Harry saves a man from getting attacked by an assassin and sees that the man is scared out of his mind, the first thing Harry feels towards him is disdain for apparently being a “pussy”. Um, hello, Harry?! How would you react if you got attacked out of the blue! Not everyone is as “strong and manly” as you are!

Then Harry also regrets saving the man when it turns out to be Robespierre. Our protagonist, dear Citizens!

Speaking of Robespierre, here (and this goes for most French characters) he is portrayed as a weak feeble “sissy”, thirsty for blood but neat and frugal in outfit and lifestyle, someone who won’t hesitate to have half of France slaughtered. Of course. 🙄

The female characters are bland helpless ingénues. Also typical of the literature of the time period.

By the way, Robespierre is the only revolutionary who is actually featured in the story. Marat and Danton are mentioned but it’s all negative in their department too, especially when it comes to Marat.

The Parisian crowd is little more than a bloodthirsty mob of savage uneducated peasants ready to slaughter all nobles just because they’re well, nobles.

Honestly, nothing new here.

5. The Setting

Honestly, I feel like there weren’t that many descriptions and those that were present simply weren’t vivid enough to immerse myself into the story. Too many descriptions are bad too, of course, but here the opposite happens - too little descriptions so sometimes the surroundings feel like vacuum and there’s not enough world building to imagine yourself in that era, beside the characters.

It’s all just bland caricatured setting one would expect from an amateur puppet show at daycare.

Remember, dear Citizens. Even if you write about your own era and country, world building is extremely important so please don’t underestimate the power of good and vivid descriptions, just use them in moderation.

Anyway, onto the final point.

6. The Conclusion

Despite all the drawbacks, I didn’t quite hate the book. I simply think it could’ve been written a lot better, without shoving the supposed superiority of England in our faces, without bland characters, without the unlikeable protagonist, without cardboard settings and definitely without machismo and layers upon layers of Thermidorian propaganda.

I wouldn’t recommend this story unless you really want to kill time and have nothing else to do.

With that in mind, allow me to conclude the fourth meeting of our Convention. Stay tuned for the announcement of the topic of the next meeting and have a good day, Citizens.

Love,

- Citizen Green Pixel

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part THIRTY

Previous Post Is HERE

This is the last outline post!  But like I said before I’m probably gonna take a run at NaNo with this story this year because of how thoroughly it got out of hand lmao and probably will keep doing smaller art posts and shit at this point.

And again there’s already ideas for a sequel in the works, although that’ll probably trickle in MUCH more slowly for the time being.

Next week I’m probably going to take a break from Tumblr altogether bc of Real Life Stuff and the fact that this project turned So Big.  Maybe.  Possibly.  Don’t take me at my word lmao

This is a text heavy post and I apologize but there was a lot to cover; each section is separated by headers.

Content warning for mention of hanging used as a metaphor.  

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Astramorus’s Sentencing 

Astramorus is stripped of his rank within Hylia's Church, although he's allowed to keep his home at the sky commune since he and Catena had shared it since before her death and Zelda isn't cruel. She assigns him a Shiekah escort-and-therapist on Impa's recommendation, someone he's not allowed to leave the Sky Temple Commune without until further notice, and Astramorus tells her it's generally much more generous than he expected even considering the help he'd offered.

Link doesn’t go home with him, at Astramorus's insistence.

"Listen to me, Link," he says, touching Link's face gently. "For all that I'd LIKE to undo the last twelve years of our lives, do it better, you're still healing from everything I did wrong."

"Uncle Seren was-" Link starts.

"Giving me the rope with which to hang myself," Astramorus finishes. "I still took it in hand, son. We both need a little distance to start, you to heal and me to sort my own head."

Link frowns at him. "You need to heal too," he says. "You wouldn't have taken that rope if Mama had been here to stop you."

"Probably not," Astramorus agrees. "But that's why her Majesty is assigning someone to follow me around, isn't it?"

[Image Description: Link throws his arms around Astramorus, to his father’s surprise.  When Astramorus hugs him back, looking like he’s ready to collapse into the hug, Link opens one eye and tells him sternly, “Take CARE of yourself, Father, or we’re gonna have WORDS.”  “Mhm,” Astramorus mumbles. End ID.]

(Hilda, it should be noted, tells Astramorus and Link that they’re both welcome to visit Lorule Castle at any time, trying to hide her eagerness until finally admitting; “You both know what having Serenumbra in your head is like.”  And Astramorus and Link agree with that and promise to meet there in a few months, once they’ve had that time to sort themselves out.)

As for Serenumbra, for now Eltani decides to let him “enjoy” some solitude in the Gerudo City prison while she deliberates more thoroughly on what to do with him.  He did quite a lot, after all.

What to do About Ghirahim

Eltani and Zelda Sr discuss what to do about Ghirahim more privately, with Aldway, Impa, and Vaba (Eltani's oldest advisor) there to offer input.

"You say he froze upon being presented with the mere image of his old master," Aldway says. "I'm not sure I trust that."

"It wasn't like-" Zelda starts, then starts over. "He was like a frightened child, darling." She pauses, reevaluates. "Or like a dog expecting to be beaten."

"Like Link?" Aldway asks mildly.

She shakes her head. "Much worse than even that, my dear."

"Even knowing he's half mortal he has trouble stilling his tongue towards me," Eltani notes. "Faced with his former master, he was struck silent."

Vaba speaks up. "You say that Serenumbra called the thing he summoned a god's nightmare, correct?"

"The boy Link saw a figure he couldn't hope to live up to. Your Majesty saw a figure from history you've tried to avoid being since you were her age. Whose nightmare was Demise? Dinravi didn't know his face, and you tell us Ghirahim stepped in the way. Dinravi only faced a copy of Ghirahim's master because he was reflected from Ghirahim's half human heart."

They decide to let him stay.

What Dinravi Would Like to do About Ghirahim

And in the meantime Dinravi and Ghirahim are having their own discussion somewhere else in the castle, partly because Eltani asked Dinravi to keep Ghirahim away from where they're discussing and partly because of course they are, it's been a lot, the last day and a half or so, between Ghirahim saving Dinravi from assassination and Dinravi punching Nightmare Demise in the face. And finding out that Ghirahim is definitely around half human now, there's also that.

There's a bit of an awkward silence, at first. It's so, so much. Ghirahim is stealing a lot of glances and Dinravi seems to be collecting himself.

And then Dinravi asks: "Can I kiss you?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, mouth small in surprise, bright red, and then he smiles a little and looks away and says "You still don't... my prince, you don't need to ask PERMISSION to do whatever you PLEASE with me."

Dinravi goes quiet. "... Is that how it was with him? Demise?" he asks. His face is gentle and open, nonjudgmental, but Ghirahim sputters.

"Of course it was," he says, "is there a problem with that?"

Dinravi studies him. "Apparently there is," he says. "Because you're shaking."

Ghirahim jolts in horror and stares at his hands, which are indeed trembling, almost as badly as at the sight of Nightmare Demise, and he screams: "DAMN this frail useless human body!!"

Dinravi takes a step backwards, watching him, and says, "Ghirahim." And at getting his attention, he asks, "Does this mean that you came to me, tried to seduce me into conquest... Knowing that might mean you, too?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a breath, vulnerable, then looks away, frowning. "Of course I did," he says.

Dinravi sighs. "Of course you did," he echoes.

"I was FORGED for this," Ghirahim says helplessly. "To serve Master Demise, or the one who inherits from Him. Whatever that might mean."

"Ghirahim," Dinravi says gently. "You're almost half human now. I believed in your choice before, when we were thinking you entirely demon, but... Being human means getting to choose."

Ghirahim is adrift and he looks at the floor, the ceiling, out the window, and finally back at Dinravi, trying to find solid ground.

His voice is small. "Please kiss me?" he asks. Dinravi smiles and steps forward, leaning into him, brushing his lips tenderly with his own. Ghirahim whimpers and surges forward, and Dinravi puts his arms around him and steadies his stance, chuckling, soothing him, kisses him again. Ghirahim gasps as his knees buckle and he slides downward, almost ragdoll as Dinravi catches him again.

"Are you okay?!" Dinravi asks, holding him against his chest.

"I'm fine," Ghirahim whispers, hanging on for dear life. "C-can- Can we take this somewhere your MOM won't stumble on us, or worse one of the BRATS running around the castle? I'm about to become very embarrassing if we keep this up." He gives Dinravi a significant stare, face crimson. "Maybe with a bed?"

Dinravi's eyebrows shoot up. ".... Would you like me to carry you?" he finally asks.

"I think you're going to have to," Ghirahim admits.

We're going to give them some privacy. XD

[Image Description: Dinravi is tilting Ghirahim into a kiss, the sun setting through the window behind them.  Ghirahim’s eyes are open but he’s pliant in Dinravi’s arms, one hand curled against his chest.  Dinravi is smiling, eyes closed and his grip gentle but rather thoroughly in control of the situation.  End ID.]

Back At the Sky Commune

Maurice and the other priests/monks at the Sky Temple Commune had some word of what was going on by the time Astramorus returns, and Maurice has more or less been put in charge now, in recognition of his years of service and care of the commune’s day to day.

He’s a bit annoyed at Astramorus about the whole thing, if he’s honest, which he is, but he also does care about his former superior, and once Astramorus has settled back in and the Sheikah escort is being shown around he approaches him in his quarters, finding him by the window thrown open, chin resting in his hand, looking out of place in the kind of civilian clothing Astramorus has barely worn his entire life.

“So what are you going to do with yourself, Astramorus, once the Queen’s man has decided you’ve moped around here enough?” he asks.  Maurice is kind but he’s also gruff.  Birds don’t tend to care about your word choices, and Maurice spends much more time with pigeons and cuccos and loftwings than with people.

Astramorus shrugs, not turning from the view of the blue sky.  “Honestly Maurice, I was raised by Hylia’s Church.  Mayhap I’ll find something else, but.  Well, it was kind of the Queen to let me keep these quarters for more reasons than memory of my wife.”

Maurice bristles his mustache, and then he says, “You know... she stripped your rank.  There’s nothing about your sentence as I read it that says you can’t start over from the beginning.”

Astramorus finally turns to him, and Maurice is struck by how... well, how much happier the other man looks.  He’s lost nearly everything, and yet it’s like a great millstone’s off his neck.  And Astramorus smiles:

[Image Description: “Maybe,” Astramorus says, smiling against his hand.  He looks relaxed and happy, and maybe like he’s considering it seriously.  The sun shines on him gently.  End ID.]

What Now, Link?

And perhaps at the same time, now that he’s said his goodbyes and everything’s settled down, Marla finds Link sitting on a balcony rail of Hyrule Castle, looking out at Castle Town and looking pretty peaceful himself.

She comes up behind him and folds her arms against the rail, smiling up at him.

“So, Link, we finally got your father to listen to you,” she says, and she’s thinking of that conversation at the Shrine of the Furious God when she says it.  “What now?”

Link shrugs.  “I suppose I’ll stay here for a little while,” he says.  He wants to see Gray recovered, and to spend more time with the Royal Family, and it’d be nice, if he’s honest, to rest a while himself.  “The Queen says my mother’s family are probably still running around the continent somewhere, so I might look for them after that.”  Adventuring runs in the family, apparently, because Zelda Sr. only has some idea of where his grandparents have gotten off to, only some idea of where to find his mother’s younger siblings.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marla says.  She looks out at Hyrule Castle Town for a quiet moment, enjoying the sound of Link breathing.

“Do you think,” she says, “That we could take a few weeks to check back at Windfish Isle?  I have this horrible suspicion that the Mayor has filled Tonbo and my house with fishing nets and I’d like to let him know to find someone else to live there before the walls take on a permanent stink.”

We’re staying with you so we should let them know goes unspoken, but Marla has known for a while she’s tying herself to Link for the rest of his life the same way she’s tied herself to Tonbo for the rest of his life, and the world’s a bit wider than it was when she and Tonbo left with Link, and if Link’s going to be in the wide world, Marla and Tonbo should be too.

And Link knows what she means.  Because family means the people you don’t need so much courage around.

He smiles.  “Yeah,” he says.  “We can do that.”

[Image Description: Link and Marla.  Link is sitting on the balcony rail while Marla is leaning on it.  They’re giving one another fond smiles.  The sun shines on them gently, giving the image a slightly faded look.  End ID.]

[starglow-xx]

having your period

tanizaki junichiro x f!reader

fandom: bungou stray dogs 

content: fluff

warning?: im not sure if this is a trigger, but mentions of wanting to “rip out your uterus” - if this is too sensitive, comment or message me and i’ll remove it from the head canons, and uh suggestive content?? sorta?? no sure but marking it as a warning anyways

type of work: head canons

synopsis: being a female is especially hard at a certain time of the month, but he will always take care of you

author’s note: he’s so underrated and there’s a lack of content for him so if i have to single handedly write everything for him i will

and im on my period and my stomach hurts so here you can have this

also, in these hcs, naomi lives on her own in the dorms :)

okay so he has a sister so you think he’d know what he’s doing right?

well sort of

like he does know what to do, it’s just that he’ll probably panic bit first

come on

the girl he loves is in pain and he doesn’t know why

he’d see you all bundled in blankets in pain and panic and then he’d just be like oh

it’d click and then he’d relax a little

but then in his head, he’d be like “oh no now you’re crying where are tHE TISSUES—”

with all the shit he’s gone through working for the agency i feel like fukuzawa would let him take a day off or two cause he’s just that kind of guy yk

and seeing as junichiro is one of yosano’s more uh frequent patients, he probably would

tanizaki does the same sweet things every single time, but depending on how you’re feeling, the order changes

with his day off he’d just be your personal servant basically

he’d cook for you, he’d clean up your shared apartment, he’ll do the laundry, etc. just so that you wouldn’t have to get up

if your emotions are all over the place he’d listen no matter how mad, sad, or ridiculous you’re being at the moment

you’re sad and crying over smth? he’ll find the tissues and leave soft kisses all over your face bc “please don’t be sad, im here for you”

god he’s so cute

if you’re mad and need someone to listen to your rants? he’s right there with an pillow nearby just in case you need to hit something

you just had a crazy idea and want to do it? he’ll be like “okay sure, but not right now, you’re pain” while internally hoping you don’t remember the next day

if your pain level at the moment is “please just rip out my uterus” (i quote my best friend),  then he’d just stay and cuddle in bed with you holding you close to him

every time you’d whimper, he’d hold you tighter whispering comforting words while rubbing soft circles underneath your shirt on your lower abdomen

he just makes the pain so much more bearable

who needs a heating pad when you have your angel of a boyfriend with you?

but if you’d still like the heating pad, he’d still get it for you :)

eventually, you’d drift off to sleep mumbling or whispering to him that you love him

it never fails to make a goofy grin and light blush appear on his face

once he’s sure you’re asleep, he’ll ever so gently get out of bed then arranges all the pillows and blankets the best and comfiest way possible all while making sure you don’t wake up

he’d kiss your forehead then goes out to buy you your favorite flowers and chocolate as well as your favorite takeout for whatever time of day it is, whether it be time for breakfast, lunch, snack, or dinner

also gets more pain meds if you need them; he’ll either buy them or go get some from naomi

after eating time, it’s bath time !!

he’ll run a warm bath for you and adds bubbles and bath salts; the nice scented kind

he’ll even dig through the closet and find that one scented candle you really  like

he’d carry you to the bathroom and help you undress and wash your hair

if you ask, he’ll get into the bath with you and you’ll each take turns washing each other’s hair

when you’re done, he’ll give you one of his shirts and sweaters to wear, dry your hair and even style it (he has experience with his sister)

he honestly just likes running his finger through your hair no matter how short or long

he’ll make pigtails, ponytails, braids, but he especially loves it when you’re wearing his hair clips

that’s both his and your go to

if it isn’t the end of the day by then, it definitely is now

so that means more cuddles !! <3

he’ll big spoon you, or you’ll be facing each other, but it doesn’t really matter because you guys switch between them

during cuddle time, the two of you would just quietly talk, or whisper loving words to one another

the occasional tickle fight would happen too

it just makes him so happy hearing you squeal and burst out in a fit of laughter

literal music to his ears

i feel like he’d be one of those guys who would say that thing that’s along the lines of “i could stop your period for nine months if you’d like” as a joke to see you get worked up bc he thinks it cute when you get flustered

i mean he is a teenage boy (he’s 18!)

what do you expect 🤷‍♀️

he’d say it when things start to get settled and quiet, so you won’t expect it

“hey (y/n)?”

“yes?”

“i could stop your period for nine months if you’d like” 

“?!”

he thinks it’s adorable when you start to stammer and cover your face with your hands

but ohoho if the tables turn, well his face is just as red as yours if not more

it can go either two ways

one, you say yes without all the flusteredness, but he doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not making him panic a bit (read: a lot)

“hey (y/n)?”

“yes?”

“i could stop your period for nine months if you’d like” 

“...okay, just don’t be too rough alright?”

“wait huh?!”

“isn’t that what you wanted?”

“i-i didn’t really mean—”

“so, you don’t wanna have a baby with me?” :(

“NO! I-I MEAN! I-I mean I do, but—”

yeah a lot of panicking but he’s still cute 😖💗

or

it would go with you still getting flustered, but you would also still say yes, making him also flustered

“hey (y/n)?”

“yes?”

“i could stop your period for nine months if you’d like”

“?! I-I y-you huh?!”

“you’re adorable”

“junichiro stop it” >:(

“sorry, i can’t help myself” >:)

“but...*mumbles*”

“what was that (y/n)? i didn’t catch that”

“err uhh, i mean, if that’s what you want, im okay with it... i’d be lying if i haven’t thought about it, but i think it’d be better to get married first don’t you think?”

“...”

“junichiro...??”

im sorry your boyfriend has short circuited

make him work again by kissing him on his nose and holding his face in your hands

actually, that might break him more, but you never know

this scenario makes him the most flustered bc a: you were acting so cute it makes his heart happy and b: ohmygod you want start a family with him and get married and—

yeah that’s how that would go

depending on how you act, you can pick how it would go if you do end up choosing to throw his words back in his face or not

overall, he’d just be the sweetest boyfriend

10000+/10 would recommend

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[ammocharis]

OC Interview: Vatna

Thanks for the tag @cleverblackcat, @mageofholyandraste, @darethshirl! It sounds fun!

Introduction

This event was organized a few weeks prior to the Winter Palace ball. Ambassador Josephine Montilyet had invited a few Orlesian journalists to Skyhold to interview the newly appointed Inquisitor.

Can you introduce yourself?

Vatna Einarsdotten Selkesdotten of Two Falcon Hold. (a moment of silence) In the Frostback Mountains. (another moment of silence as the interviewers wait for her to say something else) Inquisitor of the Second Inquisition. (it seems that she won’t say anything more, so one of the journalists asks the next question)

What are your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

Is that what you ask every Lowlander? (grumbles) Alright. I see myself a woman. Who I invite or don’t invite to my bed is my very own matter. I am unmarried and have never been before. If you’re curious, yes, the Avvar may marry multiple times in their life if they wish so. Does this answer satisfy you?

Where and when were you born?

I was born in Two Falcon Hold, eighteen... no, nineteen winters ago. (she corrects herself as she remembers that winter came and went when she was away from home, making her one winter older than when she left)

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

I am a mage. Unlike most spellweavers in your Circles, we in the mountains train with all sort of weapons, just like any other warrior. I prefer fighting in close quarters. When I came of age, I chose an axe as my preferred weapon. It was commissioned from the dwarves of Orzammar. The blade is engraved with runes and the handle has lyrium core that I can easily channel my magic through. It has been... misplaced for the first few months that I spent with the Inquisition, but it was recovered. Fortunately, the gods blessed me with another weapon in the meantime - the fire-staff that belonged to the Avvar-Mother. I’ve been told this topic is a source of confusion, but I’m not sure how to explain it better. Yes, I do use both an axe and a staff now. I had a battleaxe when I arrived into the Lowlands. Then I lost it. Then I claimed the staff of Tyrdda Bright-Axe. Tyrdda was called Bright-Axe because she had a staff with a fire-focusing crystal. But the word ‘axe’ used to mean every hafted weapon. Then I got back my axe, my regular axe... Let’s go to the next question.

Are you happy?

I’ll be happy when the Lady’s Veil is fully repaired and Corypheus lies dead. Until then, I have work to do. Would you be happy if there were world-dooming critters in your house? Because there are. There are cowards in Orlais scheming together with Corypheus, maybe even people you know. (a lady in a pale blue mask exchanges looks with the others and suggests a lighter topic)

Family and friends

What should I say? Just talk about my family and friends? Well, my father is called Einar, my mother is called Selke. In my hold, we take bynames after both our parents, so I actually already revealed their names. My father was born is Two Falcon Hold, my mother moved from another hold further south. They’ve been married for twenty three years now. They were rather mad to promise such a long marriage without extensions. Eighty-eight knots, can you imagine? I mean, they could always as the Thane to cut the rope short if they grew tired of each other... But it works well for them. I hope they’ll live together until it the last knot. (the interviewers prompt her to explain what she meant by knots and ropes) Oh, I run away with that. The number of knots is the number of years the marriage is supposed to last. Before the wedding, the bride ties a number of knots into a rope, and the groom’s task is to untie them. On the wedding day, the bride starts to sing hymns to the Lady of the Skies. The groom begins to untie the knots then. However many he’ll manage to unravel before the hymns ends, that many years they shall be married together. After the promise ends, they can get married again if they wish. But my parents vowed to get married for eighty-eight years right away. Eight is a blessed amount. Eighty-eight, doubly so. I’ve been told the ritual took all day to complete. By the end of it, my mother’s throat was sore and my father’s knuckles were raw. But they got married how they wanted, and the bond has been steadfast for many years now.

I have a younger sister, Hirka. She’s only four winters younger than me but she can be a real brat sometimes. We used to be inseparable as children. Then we both grew a bit. I got my magic and had to spent a lot of time mastering my abilities. She had other things to do too. But she’s my sister no matter what.

I have some (she pauses to rememeber the right word in Common language) aunts and uncles, but most of them and their families live in other holds, so I haven’t seen them a lot. Only a few times, never in some cases. The word still travels through the Mountains, so we do hear news from them every now and then. 

In the end, the whole hold is your kin.

Have you ever run away from home?

Once or twice, I skulked outside of the hold and refused to go back until well after nightfall. But I never really run away, I wouldn’t abandon my family like that.

Would you consider marriage or having children?

I don’t know.

Do you secretly hate any of your friends?

No, I do not. Those who I call my friends, I think as such. I make my dislikes known. Too easily, I’ve been told.

Which friend knows everything about you?

There is someone who knows my soul, but I’m not going to talk about it.

Asked by fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Yes, I can read and write. Not everyone in the Mountains does, but more than you imagine, I think. Augurs, skalds, merchants, those who aspire to be thanes... Many are able to tell the numbers, in order to trade with dwarves, but haven’t practiced beyond that.

The augurs learn how to read so that they may study old magics. I was an apprentice to the Sky Watcher of my hold - uh, a Sky Watcher is like a... priest to the Lady of the Skies. I was supposed to become his successor. So I studied something almost every day since I was eight. One day, I would memorize the shapes of protection sigils, and then try to draw them myself. Another day, I would study the uses of all mushrooms found in caves. But we don’t have any schools like there are in the lowlands. You learn from your mentors and from the gods, and most importantly, from your own mistakes.

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

Eeriest? I’m not sure. I dreams of many things. Some come true, but not in the way I imagined them to.

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realise?

I had no idea those lap dogs your Orlesian ladies carry around are really dogs. I’d never guess they share blood with wolves. I thought they’re some sort of magic toy.

Do you have mental or physical problems?

Do you honestly expect me to reveal my weaknesses to you?

What is your current main goal?

As I said before, restore the Veil and kill Corypheus.

Drink or food?

Am I supposed to choose between the two? Food, I guess. I could live on soups and stews, maybe. Does goat milk count as drink or food?

Cats or dogs?

Birds.

Optimist or pessimist?

I learned these words only recently. I must say, I do not fully understand why your sages would divide people like that. Is there someone who truly sees everything in bright colours? And someone who sees everything in black? Isn’t everyone a little bit of this and a little bit of that? Perhaps I’m more on the pessimist side.

Sassy or sarcastic?

Eh, sarcastic.

HAVE YOU EVER:

Have you ever been caught sneaking out?

Yes, I once got so bored with my healing lessons that I decided to sneak out while Jokka wasn’t looking. She of course noticed me right away. I never tried to sneak out again.

Broken a bone?

I broke my left wrist while climbing. My mentor healed it quickly but he left a scar to serve as a reminder to not be so reckless.

Received flowers?

I... (she bits her tongue) Josephine tells me I had received several bouquets of flowers this last week. She had placed them in the guest hall where everyone can enjoy them.

Ghosted someone?

Ghosted? (a man in a green mask explains mirthfully) No, never. I wouldn’t leave someone hanging like that. I’d tell him straight in the face. (she replies sharply)

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn't get?

I have yet to learn how to pretend so well as to laugh at something I don’t understand or find funny.

~

Tagging (no pressure, of course, this is just for fun): @dreadfutures, @tejaswrites, @serenpedac, @molliehaswords, @crackinglamb, @a11sha11fade, @rakshadow, @samuraisaucefrites, @noire-pandora, @1000generations

[grovyrosegirl]

Confrontation: MCSM Fic

Author’s Note: I’ve been replaying MCSM seasons 1 and 2 recently because I got nostalgic for those blocky dorks. Then I went through some old WIPs in my docs and found this Lukas and Aiden fic from a few years ago. I really liked it, so I spruced it up a bit and finished it for old times’ sake. Enjoy!

---

“Bring him in.”

The guards wasted no time leading Lukas into the small cobblestone room. Despite confiscating everything in his inventory upon arrival, including his weapons, they kept a tight, secure grip on both of his arms. It was only when his former friend, who leaned against the wall with the most satisfied smirk on his face, gave them a small handwave that the guards released Lukas and stepped back, still blocking the only exit to the room.

“Leave us,” Aiden then ordered the two guards, much to Lukas’ surprise.

Even with the wary looks he saw on their faces, the guards obeyed and left the room, shutting the iron door behind them. Lukas faced forward once again, now noticing the oak wood table resting in the center of the room, two identical chairs stood on opposite sides of the table’s surface.

“Take a seat, Lukas,” Aiden made his way over and sat down in the chair facing the door, casually resting his arms behind his head. “Let’s chat.”

Lukas didn’t speak, eyeing the other carefully. Despite everything that had occurred in the past year, knowing what Aiden was capable of, and how low he’d sunk already, seeing that look--that smile--on his face felt unsettling to him. Lukas recalled their theater days that felt like centuries ago, the days before the Witherstorm, before they even thought to call themselves the Ocelots. Aiden was never much of an actor, his specialty had always been the set production.

But clearly, Lukas thought to himself as he felt his eyes lower into a glare, Aiden was enjoying playing the villain.

Slowly, he made his way over to the other chair, sitting down and folding his arms.

“So, is this the part where you try to get me to talk?” Lukas curtly began before Aiden could open his mouth again. “Because you’re wasting your time. Even if I did know where Jesse was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Everything had happened so fast. The guards raced towards them all, closing in fast when they were revealed as the bridge-builders, an innocent act back home, but a crime on the floating island. His own capture occurred in a matter of seconds, he didn’t even see the guard coming until the very last moment. One minute he was watching Jesse sprint away into the alley, the next he was on the ground, pinned down by the guard. But those few seconds let Jesse and Petra escape, and for that, he took some relief in. By the time Lukas and Ivor were escorted to the throne room, the Founder was already getting the report from another guard that they’d lost sight of the “remaining criminals” as they put it.

He felt relieved knowing that his two friends hadn’t been captured yet. It meant there was a sliver of hope of getting out of this place.

Aiden let out an exaggerated sigh and sat up straight in the chair, leaning forward slightly and placing his arms crossed on the table’s surface, “Man, Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. Aren’t you sick of talking about her yet? Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and get an answer out of you. Like you said, it would be a waste of time. Besides, you already got plenty of that from the Founder.” He snickered for a moment before continuing, “No. This is the part where I throw you a bone.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Lukas said.

“It means I’m giving you a chance here, buddy,” Aiden said, “to join the winning team again.”

Lukas blinked, “What?”

“You heard me.”

He eyed Aiden suspiciously before saying, “You can’t be serious.”

“No games here, friend. Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ve decided to give you a second chance,” Aiden stood from his seat and began to walk around the table to stand next to Lukas. “C’mon, Lukas! It’ll be like the old days. Don’t you remember? We were the top dogs for years, and now, we can finally be on top again. But this time, it’ll be more than just winning some lame building contest.”

Aiden let out a deep chuckle, he wrapped one arm around Lukas’ shoulders and leaned in closer, a grin on his face.

“Here in this world, buddy? We can be kings.”

Lukas roughly shoved against Aiden’s chest, making the other man stumble back a few steps.

“I knew it,” Lukas said through his heated glare, “you’re planning to betray the Founder, aren’t you? It’s not enough that you want to steal the Eversource from her, you want her throne too.”

Aiden shot his own blazing glare back at Lukas, before regaining his composure and saying with that same grin, “Congrats Captain Obvious, you want a cookie?”

“Eat a slimeball, Aiden,” Lukas fired back, “do you honestly think you’ll get away with this?”

“I already am. But right now? That’s nothing you need to worry about,” He once again leaned back against the cobblestone walls. “The real question you should be asking is whether or not you’ll get to be a part of the spoils. It’s easy, Lukas. All you have to do is say yes and follow my lead. After that? Well, it’ll take a while, but I’m sure you can make up for abandoning your real team.”

At those words, Lukas’ boiling thoughts began to steam. He smashed his hands against the table’s surface and pushed himself up from the chair.

“Excuse me?!” He exclaimed. “You must’ve really lost me there, because last time I checked, it was you who abandoned me!”

At that reaction, Aiden almost seemed to shrink against the wall. However, he swiftly recovered his bravado and moved towards Lukas with gripped fists.

“We left because all you could think about was Jesse and her loser friends! It was always, ‘I’ve got to help Jesse build today!’ or ‘I’m going to visit Jesse!’” He clasped his hands together, held them close to his cheek as if he were hopelessly in love, and swung them back and forth while speaking in a mocking manner, “‘She’s my new best friend! We make cookies together! She’s sooo nice, and she’s sooo cool!’ You followed her around like a lovesick puppy. It makes me want to hurl!”

“I don’t get it all. Why?” Lukas shook his head in frustration. “Why do you hate her so much? Why have you always hated her so much? She never did anything to you! You always just got a kick out of torturing her and her friends, didn’t you? And when you couldn’t pick on her anymore, you start pushing Maya and Gill around. Anything to make yourself feel tall, is that it?!”

“Not like you ever tried to stop me,” he scoffed.

“Because back then, I thought it was all some dumb rivalry. But I was wrong. And I still kick myself everyday for not putting a stop to it. Maybe if I had,” Lukas paused, then let out a sigh that was flooded with a regretful tone, “maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Aiden scowled, “She’s a loser. And all she does is drag people down to her loser level. She did it with Petra, and she did it with you.”

“She’s a hero. And she’s my friend!”

“I was your friend!” Aiden snarled.

“Yeah, you were. Until you decided that your stupid, fragile ego mattered more than years worth of friendship!”

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have chosen Jesse over me!”

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have made me choose!”

At the end of his patience, Aiden lunged forward with an angry screech. He grabbed the collar of Lukas’ jacket and yanked the boy forward, dangling him slightly off the ground.

“I can do it, you know,” Aiden said through gritted teeth. His voice was low, but ever-so menacing, “I can throw you off this island right now. No one would blame me if I told them you attacked me. The people here believe whatever I tell them. You fall into the void forever, and all you’ll be remembered as is some villain who tried to attack this island’s savior.”

Lukas, amidst his struggle against Aiden’s grip, looked him directly in the eyes and said in his own low, fearsome voice, “I dare you.”

Aiden went still. All of the bravado, the threats, and the glares were drained from his face. His eyes went wide with disbelief, and in that moment, Lukas saw it. Fear. Hesitation. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d taken a step too far. Aiden opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. With only a sentence, Lukas was allowed to see the tiniest glimpse of the person he used to trust most in the world.

He saw the scared, insecure kid he’d met all those years ago.

Aiden’s grip on Lukas became loose, allowing the latter to easily push him away.

“That’s what I thought,” Lukas broke the silence with a sigh. He buried his hands into his jacket pockets, looking down to the floor, “You’re all talk, Aiden. Always have been.”

The anger returned as quickly as it had fled. But it wasn’t explosive. It was simmering. Aiden narrowed his eyes back into a glare, his fists, clenched so tight it looked painful, were trembling.

Another moment of silence passed before Aiden finally looked away from Lukas and exclaimed, “Guards!”

The same guards who’d brought Lukas here returned swiftly, entering the room and grabbing ahold of both of his arms once more. Lukas did little to resist their hold, only keeping a hard stare on Aiden.

“Get him out of my sight,” Aiden said in a low growl. “He’s useless.”

The guards obeyed and led Lukas out of the room. With a slam of the iron door, Aiden was left alone.

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.  

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.  

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.

[echo-bleu]

hello! I saw one of your previous asks and I was wondering if I could ask you for some writing help too! I have an autistic character that i love, but I'm not sure how to convey that this character is autistic in a way that feel aunthentic and organic instead of stereotyped, specially since she's a girl and I haven't seen many (accurate) representations of autistic girls in the media. I've seen videos about autistic people and they've been very helpful on what not to do, but + I would still love

to get some of the 'do's' what i have so far is that she has a Fixation on the sea, she has a hard time reading sarcasm and/or emotions in others, and she has an overall seemingly 'detached' personality (even if I wouldn't call her that, since she cares about the people she loves, she's just bad at putting it into words). I jsut want to make sure i'm on the right path! thank you so much for listening and I hope this is not a bother!

Hi Anon! I’m not bothered at all and I’m happy to answer this kind of ask. As always, I can only speak for myself, but I’ll try to give you a few pointers. (The previous ask mentioned is this one.)

First, it’s lovely to hear about an autistic girl! I’m not sure if you’re speaking about an adult or a child/teenager, but either way, it can be interesting to read about how autism can look a bit different in women. The gender distinction that has often been made is something I don’t agree with because I feel that it’s an unnecessary shortcut, but a number of autistic people, in majority women and people socially perceived as female, learn to “adapt” more to neurotypical standards by masking their autistic traits a lot, and might not be detected as autistic until adulthood. Masking takes a lot of energy, which can translate as feeling “socially exhausted” all the time and lead to burnout. This article list traits that can be found that are less common and obvious. It is far from perfect imo, but it can give you new ideas!

You didn’t really say if your character is a main or a side character (which changes the amount of detail you’ll want to go into) but so far to me you seem to be on the right track! Having a hard time reading people is something a lot of us struggle with. It might not just be sarcasm, btw, understanding metaphors and jokes can also be hard. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a sense of humor: it’s entirely possible to be able to use sarcasm and struggle with noticing it when it comes from other people, and a lot of autistic people have a very developed and specific sense of humor that can be seen as odd.

The “detached” personality is something you may have to handle with care because lack of empathy is a harmful stereotype. Maybe look up the difference between cognitive and affective empathy. Some of us do struggle with empathy, many of us struggle with expressing it in a way that’s comprehensible to neurotypicals, but it doesn’t mean that we lack it. It’s fine for your character to struggle with it, but be careful that she doesn’t end up seeming cold/robotic if she’s not the POV character.

Now for some “do’s”: I’m only going to talk about autistic traits here and assume that you’ve fleshed her out with an actual personality outside of her autism, just like you would any other character.

- I agree that it has to come up organically, but it would be a lot better in terms of representation to make her explicitly autistic, ie use the word autistic. It doesn’t have to be at the beginning of the story. If you’re in a fantasy setting or for some other reason you can’t use the actual word, then describing something like neurodiversity would be a good way to make it explicit. In fanfic, I personally think that tagging “autistic [character]” is enough if the fic is short(ish) and the word isn’t used in the story but the character’s autism is fairly clear, but in an original story, you don’t really have that possibility.

- Something I like to do when coming up with original autistic characters is to choose a few specific stims from them, that regularly come back in my descriptions. It falls under the same umbrella as choosing mannerisms, it gives characters their own specific flavor. You can choose a happy stim, a nervous stim and a bored stim, for example. Autistics stim a lot and in a lot of ways, but I think most of us have a few stims that come back often. It can be things like chewing on a toy/finger, flapping in a specific way, rocking on their heels, twirling hair, fidgeting with a toy or jewelry.

- Sensory differences. It’s also something that you can choose for your character: maybe she likes to listen to music very loudly, and often speak a little too loudly, or on the contrary she’s hyperacusic. She might wear sunglasses outside, or need lights on all the time. She might need subtitles to understand a movie, or be super distracted by sparkly things. She might not make eye contact, or make it too much, or seem to make it by looking somewhere close to the person’s eyes. She might find touch painful or difficult, or seek it constantly, or both (can depend on the moment, how tired she is, or if she trusts the person).

- Like I’ve said before, meltdowns/shutdowns are a delicate thing to portray if you’re not autistic yourself, but overloading can and does happen without going all the way to either of them. It’s actually fairly frequent, and happens when there is too much sensory (or emotional) stimuli at the same time or a too long day or something. From the inside, it can look like struggling to think, feeling like your skin is crawling, feeling like everything is too much, and struggling to initiate actions/figure out the steps to do something. From the outside, it can look like the person is rejecting touch, needs to isolate themself, is irritated, might struggle to speak/be very quiet. As long as the character isn’t mocked for their behavior, I think it’s something you can portray without too much risk.

- A specific interest about the sea is a nice idea! The sea is a very large subject, though, so she’ll probably have a predilection for some things. Is it water currents? Fish species? Underwater plants? Beaches? There’s a lot of options to choose from here.

- Maybe think about co-occuring conditions, because most of us have at least one. Some are very hard to distinguish from autism itself, like dyspraxia or ADHD, because they’re linked or similar to autistic traits. A lot of us are also disabled in some other way:  for example there’s a clear (though unexplained) link between autism and hyperflexibility, which can lead to joint pain, gut issues and chronic illnesses like EDS. Many of us have mental illnesses, growing up autistic in this world is honestly traumatizing and it’s hard to find autistics without some kind of C-PTSD or anxiety (on that subject, this post points out that the current diagnostic criteria can probably only diagnose traumatized autistic people anyway).

- A pretty good portrayal of an autistic girl (and to my knowledge the only one where the actor is also autistic) is Matilda in Everything’s Gonna be Okay. I didn’t actually watch until the end and I’ve been told the last episode isn’t great, but the start was pretty good. She’s a teenager, and at one point gets a girlfriend who is also autistic and has a service dog. In Elementary, while Sherlock is only autistic-coded, there is at one point (season 4 I believe) a recurring character named Fiona who I thought was a pretty good portrayal as well. She’s an adult, and she’s stereotypical in some ways but it’s better than most portrayals I’ve seen or read.

I would advise you to have a look through the blog @cripplecharacters. They answer asks about disabled characters, and I know they have answered a number of questions about autism and have at least one autistic mod. Their answers are usually very interesting!