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atlabeth · 4 years ago

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everything happens for a reason part one - zuko x fem!reader

I am not your concern

masterlist | part 2

summary: as a servant in the fire nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. but as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to learn a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.

a/n: im so excited about this guys you dont even know. i have so much planned and i hope you all love it as much as i do - just for reference, in this first chapter y/n is 9 and zuko is 10

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): mentions of a raid, reader and zuko both being little shits lmao

chapter title comes from not your concern by the hush sound!

Y/N sprawled out on the grass and sighed contentedly as the sun shined down on her and her mother. Today was easier than most as they had been given the day off, an occasion that was rare in the royal palace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent aerating their surroundings. Her senses were blessed with a mix of sea salt and fire lilies, an ever present reminder of the two worlds she walked in.

“Y/N,” her mother chided as she glanced down at her daughter from her sewing. “You shouldn’t lay in the grass like that. You know how hard those stains are to get out; I don’t need even more work on my plate.”

“Yes, mother,” she sighed as she sat up with mock exasperation. “I just feel like I should take advantage of this! We spend all day inside, and now that we’re out here you’re worried about things like stained clothes.” Y/N pushed herself to her feet and spread her arms out as she spun in a small circle. “Life is short, and I already spend all of it sewing and healing. Don’t you think I deserve some grass stains?”

“Did you find your way into the poetry books again?” she joked. “Of course I think you should have fun, but you know how things are here. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She continued to twirl, the soft breeze a welcome sensation on her skin. “I know, I know, but you don’t need to worry! I can—”

“Dear, watch where you’re going!”

Her mother’s warning didn’t reach her in time, a fact that became known to Y/N as she collided into the boy in front of her. A small gasp escaped her as recognition filled her now wide eyes.

“Prince Zuko!” she exclaimed, nervous hands finding their positions as she bowed. “Please forgive me for the accident, I didn’t realize you were there.”

Y/N had never spoken to the young prince directly — she mainly shadowed her mother while she did her work around the palace or honed her healing abilities under the watchful eye of Rika, their most skilled healer — but she knew enough to understand that she was to never disrespect the royal family in any way.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile, alleviating the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either. I actually came here for some help.” As she straightened her back, she noticed the bundle of fabric he was holding. “Are you Kura?”

“Oh, no. That’s my mother.” She pointed behind her where her mother greeted the prince with a respectful nod and smile of her own. “Did you come to get something fixed? She’s the best seamstress in all of the Four Nations.”

“My daughter flatters me,” Kura chucked. “What is it that you require, Prince Zuko?”

“She’s right, actually.” He held up the bundle of cloth which Y/N now recognized as one of the many outfits he owned. She didn’t consider herself a jealous person, but the prince’s extensive wardrobe was an exception to that rule. She had one set uniform for her work supplied by the Fire Nation, and a threadbare set for everything else that her mother had bought for her after saving up what little copper they had to spare. Y/N didn’t mind it too much as she was able to practice her sewing whenever the seams broke, but she was sure that her handiwork made up more of the outfit than the original by now.

“I tore one of the sleeves while I was training with Azula,” Zuko expressed with a frown. “I showed it to my mother, and she said that Kura would be able to fix it. I had to go through every single servant to find you, so I really hope you can. ”

Kura set her current project down and took the cloth from the prince, examining it with the skillful eye of a seamstress before meeting his eyes with another smile. “Of course, dear. I should have it ready for you by tomorrow; my daughter will deliver it to your quarters around midday.”

“Do it well,” he demanded. “I can’t focus on my training if my clothes are falling apart.”

“Hey!” she spoke up, scowling as she crossed her arms. It was like every shred of sense Y/N had disappeared the moment he talked down to her mother. “This is our day off, so you should be thankful that my mother is taking time out of her day to do this for you. Be nicer to her.”

“Y/N!” her mother scolded, her tone frantically apologetic as she turned back to the prince. “Please, forgive my daughter. She speaks her mind far too often, she doesn’t mean any disrespect.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful expression found its way onto the young boy’s features, his eyes trained on her own displeasure. “My father always talks that way to the servants and I guess it came off on me. I’m sorry. It’s not nice.”

“Apology accepted,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to tell all my friends about your work.” The young prince smiled and walked off, though not without a curious second glance at the girl who righted his wrong.

As soon as the prince was out of range, Kura began to berate her daughter. “Y/N, by now you have to understand that under no circumstances may you ever speak to a member of the royal family like that! Do you know what kind of punishment you could’ve gotten if anyone else was around to hear that?”

She sighed and settled back on the ground, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. “I know, mother, but he needs to learn manners, prince or not!”

“That’s not how it works here. Our job is to serve the royal family without question. Sometimes they say mean things, but we can’t do anything about it. Apologies are not yours to demand or accept.”

“That’s not fair,” she mumbled as she wrapped the strand of grass around her finger. “Back home I could say whatever I wanted.”

“I know, honey, I know. But we’re not at home anymore, so the rules there don’t apply. We have to follow the rules that are put in place here. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me?”

“Yes, mother.” It was a phrase that seemed to always be at the tip of her tongue now that constant apologies were littered throughout her days, usually accompanied by a sigh.

“I miss home,” The murmured sentiment was almost too soft for Kura to hear and her heart sank. Her daughter’s gaze was trained on the ground, idle fingers tapping against her legs, and she put a momentary pause to her sewing with a sigh.

“Dear, don’t you have a healing session today with Rika?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled. “It’s my day off, which no one seems to remember.”

“Y/N.” Kura’s voice was more firm and she now understood that it wasn’t so much a suggestion as a demand. “I think you should pay Rika a visit.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh and stood up in a far more exaggerated gesture than necessary. “Alright. I’ll see you later tonight, mother.” And as Y/N began her walk back to the palace, a sour feeling brewed in her chest.

Kura watched on, unable to prevent the fear that permeated her thoughts. They were fortunate that the young prince was generous, but along with his mother they might’ve been the only two who shared those views in the royal family. She hated having to constantly admonish her daughter — the girl was too young to constantly live in fear, especially having already been through so much — but in the Fire Nation they couldn’t afford to do anything less. A spitfire girl like her daughter was constantly treading on thin ice, and it was all she could do to keep her safe.

Kura feared the day when she wasn’t there to protect her.

After a short walk that consisted of muttering things to herself and taking her anger out on the pebbles unfortunate enough to be in her path, Y/N found herself back at the palace. She let herself into a side entrance meant only for servants and set on her way to the infirmary when she collided with someone else — an apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she recognized it was Prince Zuko once more. She truly had rotten luck.

Y/N shot quick glances around to ensure that they were alone, then lowered her voice just for extra security. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I don’t care. Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can just go around bumping into people!” she whispered angrily.

“But— you were the one who bumped into me the first time!”

She could feel her face heat up from embarrassment and she crossed her arms. “Just— whatever! Do you want something or do you just like popping up in places you're not supposed to be?”

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ve never really seen you around before, and you’re interesting.”

Y/N scrutinized him trying to find out if he was tricking her somehow, but after staring at him for a solid ten seconds she finally caved. “Fine,” she said, already beginning to walk. “But you’d better make it fast. I have to get to a healing session.”

He took a few quick steps to catch up to her and frowned. “I’m the prince. Technically I could order you to stop and you would have to listen.”

“Yeah, well when it’s just the two of us, you’re just another boy. I don’t have time to talk to boys for hours.”

His brows creased for a moment as he thought about it, then ultimately shrugged once more. “Okay. You said you were going to a healing session- does that mean you’re a waterbender?”

She nodded, and Zuko waited for her to explain further. He heaved a sigh, realizing that he was going to have to carry this conversation. “Well.. what’s a waterbender doing in the Fire Nation?”

She fixed him with a puzzled look. “I’m a servant. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know that,” he frowned. “But most of the servants here are from the Fire Nation, and there are hardly any around your age. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

Y/N sighed heavily — she now knew that the child prince of the Fire Nation had zero sense of boundaries, and if she wanted to get him off her back she had to answer to his satisfaction. “My mother is a waterbender from the Northern Tribe. She left home when she was young to travel the world and help who she could with her healing, and eventually she fell in love with an earthbender. That was my father — they ended up marrying and settling down in his village where they had me a few years later. Last month, my village was raided by the Fire Nation, and my mother and I were captured after they discovered we were waterbenders. And now I’m here, being annoyed by a prince.”

Zuko frowned once more — it seemed if he continued hanging out with this girl the expression would be stuck permanently on his face — and he suddenly felt ashamed for pushing. “I’m really sorry,” he muttered. “I had no idea.”

She heaved another sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, well they probably keep a lot of the bad things they do from you. It’s easier to send raids to destroy families when your children don’t know.”

“What happened to your father?” he questioned.

Y/N’s body stiffened, and she had never been more thankful to see the infirmary door. “Save your questions for next time,” she grumbled.

Zuko’s eyes lit up, her earlier stumble going unnoticed, and a small smile found its way across his lips. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

She managed to cover up her own growing smile with an ambivalent shrug. “As long as you don’t bump into me again.” Y/N opened the door and gave him a polite parting nod before disappearing inside.

“Good afternoon, Master Rika,” she said with a small bow. “I know this is unexpected, but my mother insisted that I come here to—”

“Let me guess,” the older woman interrupted with a raised brow. “Kura got tired of you and sent you here to annoy me instead?”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pushed the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows. “When have I ever annoyed you?”

“That’s a question you don’t want me to answer,” she joked as she rummaged through the closet to get supplies. “Besides, what was that smile for? Meet a boy on your day off? A girl?”

Her eyes widened momentarily and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks intensely. “I don’t ask you about your life while we heal, you shouldn’t ask about mine!”

Zuko, who had been eavesdropping by the door in an extremely un-covert fashion, felt an even bigger smile. The girl was prickly as a cactus, but he found himself strangely drawn to her — not in spite of it, but because of it. He was so used to anyone he talked to outside of his immediate family and friends bending at the knee to fulfill his every will, and it was exhausting at times. But this girl — Y/N, as he had learned — was the complete opposite.

He started to walk away, sure that he was late for some kind of session of his own. Zuko found himself thinking of the glimpse of a smile he got, already finding himself scheming up ways to make it return.

And despite her request, he was almost certain he would try to bump into her again.

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko fic #zuko #avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #a:tla #avatar fic #atla fic #self insert #reader insert #avatar x reader #sadie writes

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kiribakuficrecs · 4 years ago

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hello!!! im going on a very long trip at the end of april and I'm looking for some very long fics to download to keep me entertained! i dont care what they're about as long as there's no major character death or mentions of non-con. ur blog is a godsend ilysm and you do such a good job thank you so much 🙏

hi there!! i definitely have a lot of good lengthy fics i can recommend to you!

quote love unquote by newamsterdam

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

acceptance and denial by poteto

It all goes okay when Kirishima decides to come out to his friends and it all goes wrong when decides that Bakugou is the best fake boyfriend material.

cause the darks not taking prisoners tonight by imatrisarahtops

“Are those soba noodles?” Kirishima asked.

Again Bakugou’s only reply was a grunt. He offered no further explanation—not that Kirishima honestly expected one—as though making soba noodles from scratch at half past four in the morning wasn’t at all a bizarre occurrence and made complete and total sense. For a fleeting moment, Kirishima even wondered if maybe he was the odd one here. Besides, he’d already decided it was generally not in his best interest to question these types of things with Bakugou, especially when it was something essentially harmless.

When Kirishima has a nightmare and is unable to fall back asleep, he accepts defeat and decides to study in the common area of the dorms. What he doesn't expect to find is Bakugou, also very much awake, and Kirishima can't help but think that maybe they're both having the same problems with sleeping. If he's worried, it's just because they're friends. (Right?)

the weight of your hand by kamin

That night, to the citizens, the explosions were a jolt of fear at every blast, but to the heroes and the students of UA, they were punches and swings, fierce fighting and loud strength. The explosions were the pulse of the battle, and the power of a boy that would never back down.

One after another, explosions set a chorus through the shuddering city.

And then, suddenly—the explosions stopped.

(In which Bakugou’s kidnapping goes a little differently, and just a few seconds could change so much.)

so take my hand (your life will be brighter) by multiclassmaps

When a stranger shows up at the ice rink during Bakugou's usually private training sessions, Bakugou expects to hate him. He doesn't expect to develop feelings that become increasingly difficult to deny, or for them to help each other sort through their emotional baggage. - Bakugou really didn't like Kirishima's smile. There was something about it that made his stomach hurt, something about it that made it difficult to focus. He definitely hadn't thought about that smile on his way to the ice rink that day. He definitely hadn't.

distance makes the heart grow fonder (false) by dragontrappedinhumanskin

When Bakugo and Kirishima get hit by a quirk that forces them to literally stick together or face the less then desirable consequences, how the fuck is Bakugo supposed to keep his crush hidden?! Well, turns out he never needed to.

-- “Well, this fucking sucks, how are we supposed to train?!” "Really closely?"

perihelion by tauontauoff

Bakugou was a comet, blazing out of reach. Kirishima knew he was stupidly lucky that his furious trajectory went by close enough that his fingertips got to graze the cowl of fire. It was enough.

During Christmas Class 1A and 1B spend a laid-back week learning about extreme environment hero work in the Alps. Kirishima was used to keeping part of his feelings for Bakugou hidden, and had every intention of keeping it that way, but things don't always go according to plan.

fight me by mr_todoroki

Bright red, spiky hair. Annoyingly bright smile. Clothes that radiate ‘look at me’ vibes. Neon yellow tank top with black shorts. And those were definitely crocs on his fucking feet.

Yeah, Katsuki hated this guy.

Bakugou gets a new roommate.

quietly by chezka

“We’ve been taking the same way to and from school for weeks,” Kirishima grinned, and then when Bakugou frowned at him he put on an affected pout, tilted his head so that he was looking at him through his thick, long lashes, “you never noticed? Am I that easy to miss?”

He could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escaped his lips, and Bakugou rolled his eyes, hit him with a shoulder a little more violently than necessary.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, broom-head,” he grumbled, promptly ignoring Kirishima's whining about his hairstyle when it started coming, “I didn’t notice ‘cause I didn’t care.”

“And now you do?”

everyone knows that cats are independent by purplepersnickety

Eijirou enjoys his job, working the graveyard shift at a 24/7 coffee shop. His daemon Riot is always there to keep him company, and he likes meeting the early-morning patrons and giving them the best possible kick-start to their day. It's been his routine for about a year now.

Then one day, a grouchy guy with a daemon in the form of a lion walks into the shop in the dead of night, and Eijirou decides to strike up a conversation with him.

punks not dead by wrunic

“So you want to use me to piss off your mom?” Kirishima summarized, raising one pierced eyebrow at Katsuki.

“Look, if you want to be all fucking judgy about it, I take cash,” Katsuki said, dropping his hand palm up on the table.

“Hey now,” Kirishima said, raising his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it. I’m always down for a little chaos.” He flashed a grin, showing off his ridiculous shark teeth.

“Good,” Katsuki said. “We start tomorrow."

sent, delivered, read, loved by kiribakuhappiness

Kirishima E. [6.49pm]: ur okay for such an angry dude bakugou! :)

Bakugou K. [7.12pm]: FUCK YOU!

Kirishima E. [7.14pm]: haha! :D ttyl!

Bakugou K. [7.48pm]: FUCKING WHAT DO THOSE DUMB LETTERS MEAN???

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: I JUST LOOKED IT UP DONT FUCKING TALK TO ME LATER!

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: STOP TXTING ME!!!

- OR -

Bakugou's and Kirishima's relationship develops from classmates to friends to more, as told through their text conversations.

flicker by mr_todoroki

He was starting to feel depressed. Life was so uninteresting. It was so mundane and forgettable. He had no one to hang out with besides Kota, his family didn’t even live in the city.

He grew his hair out as some sort of rebellion, some sort of stand to make his life the slightest bit more interesting. But he could already feel himself giving in to the pressure of cutting it. He needed to work to live. Without a job, he’d truly have nothing.

Kirishima never applied to UA, therefore never became a hero.

let’s get down to business by kjelfalconer

Katsuki Bakugou, one of the brightest rising stars on wall street, is in need of a new personal assistant. Again. Could Eijirou Kirishima finally be the one to last more than two months?

Katsuki's long suffering HR department sure hope so.

something about us by bigstupidjellyfish

nothing like being in highschool and having no idea how to deal with emotions

fireproof by inkbender

Four years after a classmate nobody seems to remember is kidnapped by the League of Villains, Kirishima drags an amnesiac hobo he found washed up on the beach into his apartment, attempts to teach him how to adult (with varying degrees of success), and discovers along the way that the line between heroism and villainy is quite fine indeed. Plot-divergent after episode 45, the Forest Training Camp arc.

blood riot by magicallee (alternatively)

Kirishima from a universe with no quirks is mind-swapped with an alternate universe version of himself where there are superpowers.

And in that universe he’s a super villain.

And Bakugou is the superhero who caught Evil-Kirishima and put him in prison.

blindside by drowclericpelor

“You’re the first guy friend I’ve had that I can just like, be friends with. You’re either the most unthirstiest boy ever...” Camie shrugged and made another wobbly illusion appear between her hands. It looked like a sparkly rainbow with the word ‘friendship’ beneath it, accompanied by what Bakugou assumed was supposed to be a twinkling sound effect, but it had a tinny quality to it and sounded far away. “...or I just ain’t got the kinda straw you like to ssssip.”

Carefully, Bakugou considered the strange turn this conversation had taken.

He had never been asked, point blank, if he was gay before. And he honestly had never thought about how he would respond. Lying about himself didn’t sit right with him. But he’d always wanted to wait until he was the number one hero - when he stood above everyone else - before coming out. Though he’d had times when he’d thought about doing it before then and had almost gone through with it once. But being the number one hero came first. It wouldn’t matter what people would say about it then as long as he’d risen to the top.

Bakugou knew his lack of a response would give Camie all the answers she needed.

flour power by wingsonghalo

“I’m telling you now, Shitty Hair,” the blonde growled, “I am not gonna play house with you. We will cart this stupid flour around for a week like the assignment says. But some of our idiot classmates are naming the thing and setting up ‘playdates’ and dressing it and I am not doing anything that stupid. Got it?”

Kirishima and Bakugou are paired up to take care of a flour sack for a week. It would be so simple, except nothing with Bakugou is ever simple. Also Kirishima might be kinda sorta completely head over heels for him.

sunchaser by chonideno

that feeling when you suddenly want to jump off a cliff for no reason but instead of a cliff it’s your best friend and instead of jumping it’s growing feelings out of nowhere

or how Bakugou has to try really hard not to throw everything to the wind, and Kirishima doesn't help

i also have a tag specifically for fics that reach somewhere between 30k-70k words long if you wanted to check that out as well! i hope you enjoy the fics here and that i was able to help, ily enjoy your trip!!! :D

#kiribaku fic rec #kiribaku #answered

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paint-lady · 4 years ago

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hey, if you don't mind, i want your advice: i'm going to be running a chronicle set in chicago (i am using the chicago by night 5e book) for players who are new to vampire for the most part in a few days and i can't For The Life of Me to come up with an interesting chronicle hook (yeah i have read the hooks in the book). any ideas/suggestions/general advice?

Hiya! I could talk your ears off on how I write my chronicles- so hopefully I have taken all my processes and reduced it down to a lovely World of Darkness jam.

Here are two good hooks I just came up with- feel free to use them! The third is what I got for my first chronicle, and I just think its a narrative that works very well for new players.

>Option 1: Guilty Until Proven Innocent ”Chicago is a series of paradoxes and transitions, of ever changing paradigms and whimsy,” (CbN 47). Have your coterie be newbies to the city. Ask why they have come to Chicago. Power? A new start? Perhaps this is a political arrangement between the clan of one city with another. Whatever their reason, they have arrived right when a Primogen vanishes- and guess who is first on the suspect list? The fresh faces on the streets >:) The coterie, having barely settled, has to suddenly prove their innocence. And finding evidence lets them uncover something much more sinister....

This one is ideal for new players as it sets everyone on an equal footing. Even if they create a character that has been a vampire for 50+ years and has amassed several dots of influence, herd, status- whatever, they are still new to the city. And being new means you have to start all over again. (This may be frustrating to a player that invested all those points at character creation- but it is on you as the ST to make sure they have opportunities to use those dots and on them as a player to think cleverly.)

Starting the tale off with defending their innocence is actually a very engaging questline. It effectively sets the stage for the political powerhouses. It lets new players know there are rules- and those in power are watching. It also sets the consequences for failure. Understand that the Camarilla probably isnt going to outright kill the coterie if they fail- always make the punishment just harsh and grueling enough to make final death feel like a mercy. Failure isn’t the end of the story.

For new players- I would be lenient with the time it takes for them to find evidence. But within reason. Think like your Prince and Seneschal. Do you really want this coterie running around for a full week, unsupervised, making more messes? No. You don’t. (You might wanna send an npc with them to watch and keep em out of trouble. Your npc is also able to vouch for them.)

This story lends itself to be a Camarilla Chronicle very easily. You can go Anarch, but an Anarch leader suddenly vanishing and blaming the newbies is much more quickly going to end with blood spilled. Thank your local sweeper.

> Option 2: Containment Breach Blacksite 24 (Loresheet on page 264) was temporarily occupied by Operation Firstlight. It has now been transformed into a medical research facility. While most kindred of Chicago know of Blacksite 24, they have zero clue what happens inside other than bad news for them- the less they know the safer they are. The chronicle opens with a car crash. The captured soon-to-be coterie was in transit to this feared medical facility. The crash did kill the driver and the agent in charge of transporting them. The crash did not fully break their restraints, but it did enough damage that first responders are freaking out. They are all at hunger 3. The chronicle is a hunt. The coterie should have some knowledge of what had happened to them and how lucky they are to have escaped. Operatives are already on their way to recapture them. They must hide in this city- and do their best to survive and stay out of sight.

The point of this story is to invoke dread. I highly recommend one player either being a thin-blood (or an npc) with the Daydrinker merit, or a player to have a ghoul. If they decide to not have a daywatch, they increase their chance of being found.

This story also sets up a feeling of desperation. They would be willing to take shelter from anyone- anyone. Eventually the other kindred will catch on that these guys are on the run from something. Any sane kindred would toss them out to protect themselves. A compassionate kindred who takes them in will suffer the final death as a compassionate fool- or join them in captivity.

This story lends itself to be an Anarch Chronicle much more easily. This is the time the Camarilla will likely be a bit more paranoid and bloody. While they might not outright kill the coterie- they will send them somewhere that is a death trap. They wont dirty their hands with this. After all, you do not want any evidence to fall into the hands of the SI if you hired the hit.

This story is ideal for newbies without background merits. No allies, no influence, no herd. Let them take more mythic merits such as bloodhound and unbondable (Consider finding some from V20 too! There are some really awesome supernatural merits!). These powers would certainly be more fascinating for a medical team to study- not how many instagram followers they have. This kind of story also lets your players feel more powerful- but out of the loop. It lends itself to them forging alliances and getting caught in one-sided favors a lot more quickly.

The challenging aspect of this story is that is starts with a masquerade breach. New players may not know how to handle such a blatant breach and thats okay. I would let the crash slide- and the Camarilla in the background handles it. Breaches after the crash need to be handled with proper consequences.

> Option 3: New Blood This is what my storyteller did to me and my first time players (and its also very close to the plot of CoNY). We were shovelheads. Embraced to make a huge mess for the Camarilla and die quick deaths. We were all thin-bloods. The last thing the pcs remember is the sweet rush of ecstasy washing over them, before clawing out of the earth and driven mad by an insatiable hunger. The thrill of the hunt, and the sweet, warm blood on their tongue, nothing was going to be better. All three will awake next to each other, surrounded by the corpses they drank dry in their frenzy. What a way to play the name game! The players have three nights were they figure out their new condition or coverup their tracks (if they think to do it). They contend with their hunger and hatred of sunlight, wrestle with accidentally drinking their family member dry. After three nights, the Scourge comes knocking. Rather than outright killed, they are dragged to Elysium. For some reason, they are adopted by an upstanding member of the Camarilla- or the Prince orders a political rival care for them (hoping they fail). The players are the errand childer of this kindred, and slowly they figure out what they have been gathering through all these errands....

This one lets the characters all have the moments where they discover their disciplines and powers- and bestial tendencies. It naturally flows to allow players to slowly discover the rules and mechanics as well. All players must play fledglings for this tale.

This story is much more a personal tale than a political one. Eventually politics makes its way in...but it does not have to be a focus.

This story has less of a hook and more of a “Figure it Out” survival mode until the errands begin. The story is how the character’s react to their condition. It very quickly lends itself to a narrative of finding your own path in the night, rather than mindlessly obeying.

So here are a few questions that I ask myself when crafting a chronicle story:

1. What kind of story do you want to tell? Not asking for a plot hook, I’m asking for a general concept. Is it a tale of good triumphing over evil? (Not necessarily a wrong answer, but if you wanna play good guys...vampire is not the best game for that). Is this a chase? Is this a race against time?

2. How do you want your story to make your players feel? Do you want to tell a story that invokes as much dread as possible in your players? Do you want them to feel ultra powerful? Vampire is both a power fantasy and a dread inducing game- it can do both.

3. If you don’t know what kind of story you want to tell, switch gears to worldbuilding. CbN has so many NPCs with the rumors already written for you. Its your setting, perhaps switch two rumors around with prominent NPCs. Decide which ones are true in your setting- Maybe Primogen Annabell did kill her predecessor. Perhaps the Lasombra are attempting to infiltrate the Camarilla as everyone fears- but no one is able to prove it or stop it. Deciding what is true, false, and undetermined usually blossoms into hooks and stories worth investigating.

4. What is a historical event of the city that the Vampires would have endured/ scars would have remained? For example, in my chronicle set in Richmond, the tale of the Richmond Vampire is true. Depending on who you ask, it is the Camarilla’s best or sloppiest cover up. Have the chronicle coincide with the events and the coterie live through them. No one said this must take place in 2021- you can do 2015, 2008, -hell go back the 1990s. Its actually super fun if you set your chronicle in the 90s and your Malkavian is using phrases from 2020.

5. One of my things I do when writing scenes and moments is play Dread by myself. Dread is a role playing game played with jenga. There are no dice rolls, if you want to attempt something, you have to pull pieces from the tower. If the tower falls, you die. If there is a moment where I really really really dont want to pull from the tower, though the reward for succeeding is so so sweet- I keep the moment. If its really easy to shrug and go eh, I can live without performing that action- go back and rewrite it. If you have no incentive to pull from the tower, why would they?

6. Examine your player’s desires and ambitions- and do not neglect them in your chronicle. The plot wont magically allow all of them to achieve their ambitions. However, provide opportunities for them through the plot. Its on them to strive for what their character wants- its on you to make them struggle but have the path to get there. For example, if a player wants to become a Baron, provide a political opening. Perhaps then by announcing their power, they have made a bigger name for themselves and it has become harder to hide. Perhaps by doing this, the kindred they owe a favor is suddenly much more vocal about it.

Here are some suggestions for handling new players:

> You are going to have to handhold them through some things. New players to vtm won’t be able to see the cascading political web and how the consequences of their actions will ripple into waves. I like to use Wits+Insight and call it Common Sense. Common Sense was a merit in V20- and damn is it WONDERFUL. All they need is just 1 success (they can take half) to have you explain how whatever plan they just thought of is actually a TERRIBLE idea.

> Do your RPG consent list. Know what is safe to discuss and what is off the table. I highly recommend utilizing something my Storyteller used for my first chronicle, and subsequently I use for all my ttrpgs now: Invoking the Veil. The metaphor is that you are slowly lessening the intensity of a scene- as if raising the opacity or looking through layers of fabric. Eventually, there is too much fabric and you can no longer see the scene. If something is too intense, the ST or the player may announce they are invoking the veil. Reduce the scene by lowering music, speaking in third person, or avoiding heavy descriptors. You can reduce it further to just dice rolls. Role play stops, and the consequences of the scene are solely dictated by the dice. Or fade to black. If a player is repeatedly fading to black on something- ask to talk to them about it. Clearly something is too intense and they are not having as much fun as they can. Debriefing after a session is also a good idea. Do something silly! Share and check all the memes in the discord chat. Its important to make sure you and your players know that at the end of the night- its all just a game.

> I find the sabbat and new players don’t tend to mix well. You may absolutely still use the sabbat in your chronicle! But the dogma and philosophical ideals of the sabbat can be offputting and downright upsetting to a first time player. You may absolutely build to it- that’s what I did to my players. And in the moment of the truth, they chose to cling to humanity.

> The taking half mechanic is your friend! V5 says players may announce how many dice they are rolling- and if the dividend is greater than the DC- they auto succeed. This streamlines play. Of course, you as the Storyteller may say this is a roll they are not allowed to take half on. Usually these are contested rolls (combat).

> The three turns and out rule keeps combat intense but not too lengthy. It actually streamlines encounters super super well.

> My ST used a phrase, “The quickest way to kill Cthulhu is to give it a healthbar.” If Methuselahs and Elders are involved in your game- avoid giving them stat blocks. This cultivates a conflict that new players must find a way to overcome without brute force combat. It makes them think critically and defy these super old antagonists through narrative means. This also gets the notion out of your and their heads, “if they die, its over.” Its never that easy. Never.

#steph answers questions #thanks for asking!#vtm #vampire the masquerade #vamp tag #storyteller vibes #ghostravens

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thequeenb · 4 years ago

Text

Poppy x MC

I know what you are all thinking..How the hell did us two even start dating? Well i never said i dont like her she is just always irritating damn it. It all changed one starry night when we had our first kiss, at first everything was confusing but then everything made sense

Our little fights, our intense make-out sessions, our unexplainable anger, our big confession. That's how things were since day one and how could i complain? But everything have been so secretive that it made me question if this is even real anymore.

"Now you should leave darling, Chloe will be here at any minute" Poppy waves a hand dressing up and i frown trying to show no emotion. Maybe i thought we were something, who wouldn't to be honest? When i told her that i liked her i thought it was mutual but boy oh boy was i wrong?

I sigh as i pick up my stuff exiting the room. I don't dare to say any word because i know my sensitive side will take over. What's wrong with me? I shouldn't have said anything in the first place but for once i said yes to taking risks

I plug my airpods in playing Apocalypse by CAS, surprisingly it's her favourite song and you know me, how could i not melt for Queen Bee? I walk around the campus remembering all the times i pinned her against these walls kissing her until she couldn't breathe.

What's the point anyways? I don't want to be anyone's secret, does she feel ashamed to be with me? Who cares what this university says if you truly have feelings for someone? I sigh walking further into the campus, its past midnight and it seems that i am all alone lost in my thoughts

I open my phone clicking on Instagram and of course they uploaded a story. Poppy, Veronica and Chloe enjoying a bottle of Rosé what a blust, except you had steamy sex an hour ago on these sheets.

It was just a hookup wasn't it? This question takes over my mind that i dont notice Zoe walking towards me

"Girl i was worried! You didn't respond to my texts" she says wrapping her hands around me. I squeeze her tight needing comfort and she strokes my hair whispering "It is Poppy isn't it?"

I sigh pulling back, sitting on a nearby bench. Of course it's Poppy, her and her manipulative ways. Great in the sheets but strangers on the streets, how charming

"She kicked me out because the girls were coming over, she doesn't want anyone to know about us"

Zoe's eyes widen "Are you kidding who would keep this a secret?" She gestures at me and i chuckle, A+ for the effort Zo. And she is right, i shouldn't settle for less than i deserve

"You are right--"

"I can sense a but and i don't like it. If she wanted you truly why is she being so secretive? And don't start with the reputation bullshit" she places both of her hands on my cheeks wiping away the tears i didn't know i had

Aaaand there goes a bright light making me go blind "What the hell?" I cover my eyes and Zoe does the same

"Gosh these people have miserable lives" she rolls her eyes standing up "Get your cute butt up and let's go get some drinks shall we?"

I nod smiling thanking god i have my best friend by my side. Without her none of these situations would be handled right and oh well i find her veeeeery pretty if you ask me

___

I walk towards my class when a sudden buzz makes me stop my tracks. At first i thought its my ranking update but oh no its an update from The T

Hello loves,

I want to thank my amazing sources for blessing me with something interesting. Newbee has been trying to steal the crown months now and along the way everyone started to look at her like that heart eyes emoji. Yesterday our Queen to be was spotted getting closer to our one and only Zoe Wade. I am not surprised are you? They have been a dynamic duo since day one. #couplegoals

Here is an image of them last night, don't forget to 'awwww' everytime you see them

My congratulations to the cutest couple of Belvoire. Kisses, The T

Oh no, no no no this isn't good. If Poppy sees this she will.. actually she has no right to say anything. Despite that my heart starts racing at the thought of her reading this clearly false update. Aaaand there she is, across from me glaring at me with murderous eyes. Everyone looks at me whispering and its honestly very frustrating, trying to avoid the crowd all i focus on is getting on my class that until my phone buzz again

"Meet me behind the field" I froze reading what Poppy just sent me and my mind is drowning with all the possibilities. Did i just fuck up even this little something that we share? God damn this blog and fuck all these people that all they care about is juicy gossip.

Do i even have a choice? Poppy will try to confront me no matter what so i might as well skip class, i am sure Miss Kingsley will understand, right?

I see her standing against the wall as i approach closer. She is tapping her heel on the cement and honestly? I am a little scared

"Hello, fancy meeting you here" i say smiling trying not to look nervous

She doesn't answer instead she makes the most angry face i have ever seen shoving her phone in my face. I swear if that red angry emoji was an actual person that would be her right now.

"What is this bullshit?"

"Oh wow calm down is that why i am skipping class? To explain to you something I don't even have to?" I fold my arms looking at her dead in the eyes. I am not usually the person who will let her anger get the best of her but Poppy's behaviour hurt me so this time i just let it slide

For just a second she looks confused but then she regain her composure "Zoe? Are you serious? This girl is a wannabe, just because her mother has money she thinks--"

"Wow wow pause there. Not another word about Zoe" i place one finger against her lips and her breath catches. Jeez can't you not be horny for a second? I think to myself

"Why? Did i offend your girlfriend?" Her tone is ironic yet jealous and you know what? Jealous Poppy might be dangerous but she is also very sweet

"I am not in a relationship with her dumbass" i roll my eyes pulling slightly away from her

"But the photo--"

"Oh boo-hoo someone took a picture so what? Do you believe everything you see? She was fixing your mess because if you were clear towards me i wouldn't sit alone crying" these words escape my mouth without my consent and oh did i just admit how i feel?

Poppy looks stunned and actually speechless. Her eyes soften and i look away embarrassed "What do you mean?"

Yes what do i mean? I ask that question to myself all day and night. I have been trying to get her out of my mind but how could i? The way her perfume makes me dizzy, her soft kisses after each session, the way she looked at me like i am the only one in this world

"I don't know where we stand. You are so secretive that I start to believe this means nothing" i shrug trying not to let any form of vulnerability slip out

"Bea i- i thought i was clear. I mean i left you several hickeys on your neck--"

"Oh hold up! Do you really think hickeys mean we are dating?"

She nods and thats when i laugh. Oh wow this girl is really unique i swear "That still doesn't explain why you have been secretive"

Poppy sighs heavily, clearly uncomfortable by my question. At this point I don't care, all i want is to know if i waste my energy and emotions on someone who doesn't feel the same

"I am not good with words okay? I just didn't knew what to say or do to show you that i want us to be official"

Surprised i smile taking her hand in mine "You are cute when you are jealous"

"Oh shut up, you aren't that special" she smiles back and it makes my heart melt

That's Poppy. She isn't good with words nor know how to handle emotions. She was taught to be heartless and competitive and i can see why she is being that way. Her way of words are insults and in this relationship that's how we communicate

"Come here" she says pulling out her phone

Without another word she leans against me planting a kiss on my cheek. She snaps a photo and for a minute i think she will upload it, a girl can dream right? Oh wait a minute..is she actually doing it??

"What are you doing?" I ask looking over at her phone

"Uploading a picture. I want everyone to know that you belong to me" she is typing so fast i cant read what the caption says but then i get a notification

"Mine" it says with three heart emojis, thats so adorable i can't help but actually say awww out loud

"Well i didn't expect that but i like being yours" i say winking at her

We kiss and this time its different. The minute our lips touch i can feel my knees go weak. We kissed many times and you way ask, whats different now? Well now i am hers and only and my mind can rest now knowing i have a powerful amazing woman by my side.

Tag list: @lolimugly @origmansello @greatestflirt-hero @mvalentine @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @princessstellaris @coldbatfriendroad @indecisive-choices @i-loveeveryone @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @ghalind @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @justastranger-passing @nydeiri @simpforpoppy

#queen b #queen b poppy #queen b zoey #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #make poppy an li #play choices #choices fic #choices fanfiction #my fics #pb choices #choices

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p---ink · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Contrasts Chapter Five

Author’s Note: This is the last installment, in my Tony Stark Fan-fiction. I loved writing this, but I am also happy to see it come to an end. Please, tell me what you think of this. I can only get better. It means the world to me when I get comments, so let me know how this makes you feel. Also, to my artists out there...I promise I don’t know jackshit about art, so please dont come for my throat. Everything is purely fictional. German speakers, I used google translate, please tell me if anything is off. I love you guys! Thanks for reading!

Summary: Y/N tries to adjust to her life away from Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut. In that order.

Song: I had the song I saw you in a dream by the Japanese House, in mind while writing this.

Word Count: 11.2k

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: The Ends of the Universe

Disclaimer: Picture is not mine.

Berlin, Germany. Pepper Potts sent you to Berlin. Fucking. Germany. While Berlin was breathtakingly beautiful, and to your surprise very diverse, you knew nothing about it. Nothing about the way of life there. Nothing about the people. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. Scared, would still not do your emotions justice. You were in a place you had made no preparations for, as well as no thoughts of ever visiting. But you guessed that was the point.

Tony would never look for you here.

Six months. That’s how long you would be here. Pepper had taken care of everything. The rest of the semester and classes that you were enrolled in before you left, were now moved online. It was that or completing them the next semester. Usually, your university required students complete all prerequisite courses before they took on any internships within their respected fields. So how Ms. Potts got your Dean to agree to such an outlandish change of pace for one of her students, you would never know. What she achieved was unprecedented. That was when you learned quickly to never underestimate her.

Six months. That’s how long you would be away from Tony. Well actually, the idea, as Pepper calls it, is that you two will have moved on from each other by the end of it all. You weren’t even supposed to contact him when your time was up here. In fact, as long as you were in Germany, you were not to contact anyone you knew.

Pepper had assured your family and friends of your well-being ahead of time. No they could not know of your location, nor contact you, but they were ensured that you were safe. It took some heavy convincing on her part to get your family to agree, but ultimately they did. In their eyes, they were supporting what was best for you.

Nao, on the other hand, was not keen on just letting you leave the country. Though your friendship had less than a few days to develop, she became very protective over you. She felt that your leaving was downright bullshit as well as unfair. “Why should Edward fucking Stark, get his happy ending?” She spat. She was also not as willing to trust Pepper as you were. But because you had already made your decision to leave, you entrusted her with the secret of your hidden twitter account. No one, save yourself, knew about it. You agreed that you would regularly tweet from it, as your way of letting her know you were okay. That was the only reason, she didn’t blow the whistle to Tony right away.

Unlike Nao, you had faith in Pepper. You two weren’t the closest, but you had an unspoken respect and trust for one another. Pepper, despite every reason you gave her, did not behave in the way that any other woman in her shoes would have. You had broken her son’s heart by sleeping with his dad, her now ex-husband. Yet here she was, going through all of these hoops for you, just to make sure you didn’t ruin yourself. Of course you trusted her.

There was one thing she was not truthful to you about however. When she told you the internship was all-expense paid, what she really meant was that she was covering all of it. Your school fees, apartment, food, and any and all luxury items, Pepper would be dishing out the money to take care of it all. While you felt you had no control over everything else, you drew the line there. Though you sort of resented her for her speediness to remove you from States, you refused to let her pay for your mistakes. She had already done so much.

Your entire time living with Tony, he never let you pay for anything. This of course meant, you had money saved up from your previous employments. Enough to live comfortably until you could find a job. While Pepper was more understanding than her ex, she still insisted on covering your school fees as well as the first two months on your apartment so that you could focus on school before money became an issue. She even set you up with some extra spending money to get started. “To have a job, on top of an internship, as well as a full course-load, is too much for any student to bear.” She told you. “I will not set you up for failure, just to prove your smug ass Dean right.”

Once you were settled in, and she felt confident enough to depart, Pepper left you and Germany, wishing you the best of luck. She was in a hurry to get back home before Tony could catch a whiff of where you were, and where she had been.

So there you were. In Berlin. All alone, far from home, with no one but yourself to console. That was when the waterworks began. Between Nao’s place and the plane ride here, you didn’t have time to process your emotions. Your life, though not the most morally ideal, went to absolute shit in less than seventy-two hours. You didn’t care who was looking from the outside in calling you ungrateful. You got to experience the world, and your experiences with Tony alone should have satisfied you.

Still, you didn’t ask for any of this. He was all you wanted. You would give up all the luxury in the world, if it meant just being with him. But alas, you did not have that choice, so you decided to cry.

And cried you did. Your first three nights consisted of tears, and headaches. You barely even ate. It didn’t help that Tony’s face was plastered every where. He was famous, so what did you expect? “How the fuck am I supposed to get over him, when I can’t even escape him?” In fairness, you also didn’t make it easy on yourself. A t-shirt of his that you stole, covered your pillowcase. You were scared of the day it’s scent would leave. The new phone that Pepper purchased for you, had his wallpaper on the cover. Of course you later willed yourself to change it, but it took time. You even bought books that he begged you to read for months, just because they reminded you of him. Your entire time in Germany, you were a woman of your word to Nao. You tweeted about him constantly your first three nights, just to feel like your old self again. It was small things that made you feel closer. But small things turned into big ones. You were practically torturing yourself.

Where nights ended in crying, mornings began with half-hearted reassurements. “This is what’s good for me.” You would chant, to yourself in the mirror. “This is what’s good for Tony.” It was now the weekend, and come Monday you would be starting your internship. “The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go home.”

ººººº

Starting your art internship sounded dreadful to you now. Before, you were more than excited as you planned it with Tony. Your eyes were starry when you fawned over how rich the art and culture was in France. Of course you would be excited, given that Tony had taken you to France on numerous occasions, as well as taught you some of the language. You were even comfortable enough to navigate the streets of Paris alone. That was more than you could say about Germany.

When Monday came, and you left your apartment, you got lost almost immediately. Luckily to you, in Berlin more people spoke English than you thought. So your day was off to a bad start but you could still turn it around. That was your train of thought before it began to pour down raining. The cute, but simple little outfit that you had put together was now drenched. Not to mention your hair; tight coils retreated to your scalp, and makeup ran down your face. You had tried. You really did. You wanted the outside of your person, to deflect what you were feeling on the inside. Too bad the universe had other plans.

You were still determined to complete your first day. So you continued on to the location that a kind stranger gave you.

It sounded right, because soon you were standing in front of the soon-to-be art gallery that you would be interning at for the next 6 months. You were to shadow an art-curator, with the hopes of teaching it one day. Sure becoming an art professor wasn’t very fulfilling financially, but you loved art so you didn’t care.

You walked into the magnificent glass structure, with high ceilings and tall windows. Your strides made wet squelching sound, as you stepped from the outside concrete pavement onto the wooden linoleum.

Immediately, a man who seemed to be directing others about the room, turned his attention to you. He almost dropped the clear clipboard he was holding, upon seeing the soaking wet brown girl before him. All he could think of was the damage to the floors you had probably caused.

“Wie kann ich Dir helfen?” He asked you with a grimace painting his features.

If your confidence wasn’t shot before, it was now at a zero as you realized how stupid you must of looked. “I’m sorry I don’t speak German.” You apologized.

The man huffed as he switched languages. “I said, how can I help you?” Now you genuinely felt like an entitled American, in someone else’s country forcing them to accommodate you by speaking your native tongue.

“I’m Y/N, and I am here for the Schmidt Internship.” You said lowly. You watched him bring his attention back to the clipboard in hand, flipping harshly through the paper.

“You’re late. On your first day at that. How could you come in here like this?” His words were harsh, but he was right. You were late, and even if you weren’t your appearance would have sent off red flags in his head.

You had to blink back the water that was forming in your eyes. This was something that you had become an expert at. “I apologize, but I had trouble finding my way here.”

He scoffed “So not only are you coming up with excuses already, but you’re telling me you haven’t even prepared yourself. How are you supposed to retain the necessary knowledge for this job?”

“Again, I’m sorry, but I can assure you that this won’t happen again. ”

“You’re right. So go home.”

Your brows jumped to meet each other. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You clearly don’t have what it takes. My clients will eat you up and spit you out within seconds.” He looked you up and down before adding, “And if they don’t, I will. So go home.” He turned his back to you as if you were nothing, and began redirecting men on where to put certain paintings. Not sparing you a second glance.

Something told you that he was used to making people cry. You almost did, until you realized that you had been crying for the past week, and now you were just angry.

“You can place that Delegado by the window.” You heard him say to two men. You walked up to them to interrupt their conversation.

“Actually place it as far away from the light as possible.” You ordered the men who were holding the piece.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The curator asked.

You could feel his scowl on your face so instead of spinning to address him, you furthered your explanation. “The choice of medium Delgado used is not compatible with the sun. It will certainly drain its vibrancy. But anyone who attended secondary school art would know that.” You sneered, side-eyeing him. Your insult did not fall on deaf ears. His scowl turned into an almost pained expression. You ignored it, and moved on.

You walked around the room, as the curator silently, but obviously followed you. “I assume you intend to place a light fixture over this.” You asked him, looking over your shoulder. “If not, this is the painting you should place next to the window. It will not thrive in the shadows. The artist intended for light to cast on certain areas to reveal hidden figures.” You took your phone out to flash its light against the frame to prove your theory, and almost immediately new elements appeared in the work.

You could almost hear the change in features on the curator’s face. Still you continued your dance around the room, explaining to him pieces of art that worked well with others, and ones that did not.

Going up to your next piece, you inspected it closely. “When did you purchase this” You asked him.

“A few days ago. Why?” He questioned, his tone was now different, almost inviting you to say more. He was now curious about your every word.

“Bankole, the artist this is inspired by has not sold a painting in years.” You informed him.

“I bought it from a secondhand distributor. So what’s your point?”

“You were scammed. The original piece only has seven hooded men. A reoccurring theme in Bankole’s art. This painting only has six.”

“Well maybe Bankole miscounted.” He suggested, chuckling. It was like he was amused, and it was vastly different from his earlier cold demeanor.

“It also has too many etchings along the border.” You continued. “And the signature is misspelled.”

He stayed silent for a minute. He was awestruck. His assistant who had been standing near him, looked up everything you said to fact check you. She whispered a “she passed, sir” in his ear, when she could validate your arguments. And that’s when you realized it was a test.

Upon realizing the whole thing was a set up, you relaxed your bewildered eyebrows, and looked down at your feet to smile a smile that screamed ‘I’ve been tricked’.

The curator, as if scared to take his eyes off of you leaned his head to the side to ask his assistant, “Could you please get Ms.?”

“L/N” You sheepishly smiled, bringing your eyes back up to meet his.

“Yes, could you please get Ms. L/N something to dry off with, Hanna?” He asked the girl, returning a smile back.

“Right away sir.” Hanna spoke, scampering away to search the building’s custodial closet.

He offered his hand to you, and broke the silence. “I’m Finn. Finn Schmidt.”

You took his hand, and shook it gently. “Wait Schmidt? Does that mean you’re—”

“Yes, my family owns this gallery.” He replied as a matter of fact.

You mouthed an inaudible ‘oh’, as you were now embarrassed about your secondary school comment. Thankfully Hanna was back now with a towel to distract you from your growing shame. Changing the subject you asked, “So is it a German thing to be rude and test your future interns?”

He laughed, eyes lingering on your neck as you dried your hair. “Well its a Schmidt thing to test future interns. As for the rude part, I’m sorry. I was just a bit upset about something from earlier.” He confessed. “I promise I would have called you back later to apologize.”

“It’s fine. I did show up late and track your floors with rainwater.” You glanced outside, noticing the sky was now as clear as day. Just my fucking luck, you thought. But at least the new found light gave you a chance to properly examine Finn. The events from earlier, blinded you from realizing how handsome he was.

He was much taller than you. At least more than half a foot. Chestnut brown locks, thrown up into a messy bun, graced the top of his head. He had honey brown eyes upon first glance, but when the sunlight hit them, they were a brilliant amber. He looked to be close in age to you, but still more experienced; so maybe late 20’s early 30’s you concluded. He was built. Not too muscular, but far from skinny. His beard was immaculate. In fact it looked as if he took better care of it, than he did his hair. Both made him look majestic. He had skin of olive, and it was dewy and radiant; you just knew his skin-care routine was more rigorous than yours. When he spoke, it was gruff. His accent was thick, but he spoke English like he lived in a native-english speaking country for years. He was definitely a man who prided himself in his looks as well as his knowledge.

“So tell me, is it an American thing to ogle at complete strangers.” He smirked at you. You immediately thanked God for blessing you with darker skin, for you felt your blood pool to the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, embarrassed and suddenly intrigued by the ground.

“Don’t be. It’s definitely a Schmidt thing.” He informed you, raking his eyes down your figure. Is he flirting with me? You asked yourself.

Now desperate for air, you took in a deep breath to overcome the fluster. “So, um. I’m sorry, just to make sure I’m not getting ahead of myself: your assistant said I passed?”

He cleared his throat, and began rapidly blinking away his daze before speaking. “Yes with flying colors.”

“Does this mean I still have the internship?”

“Yes. I’d be honored to have you. ”

You beamed a bright smile. “Great. Well I hope we enjoy working together.” You stretched your hand out again for him to shake.

“As do I.” He said, grasping your outstretched limb, before bringing your hand to his lips.

Oh boy.

ººººº

It turns out, you two did enjoy working together. Finn, despite your first impression of him, was a major sweetheart, at least to you that is. You didn’t know if that reigned true in other aspects of his life, or if it was just because he wanted to sleep with you. Either way, you welcomed his charming nature.

He became your best friend whilst you were in Germany. He was proud of his country, and very eager to show you why. You were dragged from museum to museum soaking in beautiful art. Landmark to landmark, reveling in famous architecture. Restaurant to restaurant, engorging yourselves with famous German cuisines and desserts. He was elated to finally have someone to boast to about his culture. And you were happy to have someone take your mind off of Tony. Temporarily.

As months passed, you still found your mind drifting off as you wondered about him. You dreamed about him at least every other night. But you would still tell yourself, He’s over me by now. He’s probably happy I’m gone. At least I didn’t ruin his life.

Finn could only do so much. You were close now, so you informed him of a man who had taken over your dreams. He didn’t know who your mystery man was, but he wanted to be him. He wanted to be the one who occupied your mind. He made it clear on numerous occasions too. Spouting to you German phrases that he taught you before hand, revealing his feelings.

‘Ich steh’ auf dich��. I’m into you. ‘Ich bete dich an’, I adore you. The words were beautiful flowing from his lips. But you always feigned ignorance, acting like you forgot what they meant. He could scream his feelings to the sky in your mother tongue, and you would still say something along the lines of “Quit joking around.” Or “You’re so silly.”

You would be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about Finn in that way. He was sexy, and more than willing to replace Tony. And Pepper, if she were there, as well as your friends and your better sense, would have begged for you to fuck him…but alas, you just couldn’t do it.

You two were currently planning the grand opening of his family’s second art gallery. It was tomorrow night, and it took all of five months, most of your internship to get the museum ready for the public. It would be a formal event, where renowned guests were invited to partake in a cultured but light-hearted social gathering. It was going to be grand, which meant Finn was bugging out.

“Lydia, have Hanna approve the guest list for me. I need her to make sure, no strays show up.” He said to one of his staff members. He had a group of people following close beside him as he took long strides to his office.

“Again?” She asked.

“Yes! Again.” He shouted.

She rolled her eyes, before skittering off to find Hanna.

“Luka, have you checked with the caterers to make sure the hors d’oeuvres will arrive by 17:30?”

“Yes sir.” The boy squeaked.

“Check again.” Finn ordered.

“Right away sir.”

“Oliver—” Finn Started.

“The wine has already arrived, sir.” Oliver interjected, feeling quite sure of himself.

“So the Chambertin Grand Cru is here? Great!” Finn began smiling and relaxing a bit.

Confusion took the place of certainty on Oliver’s face. “Actually sir, I thought you told me to get Richebourg Grand Cru.”

“Fuck!” Finn yelled in his native tongue, about to tear a new hole in the smaller boy. That is before you stepped in. You were waiting for him by his door.

“Your guests are coming in for the art Finn. Not the wine, nor the food.”

His expression softened when he heard your voice. “Our guests.” He corrected, smiling at you. “I feel you worked harder than me, so they are our guests.”

“Fine. Our guests do not care about the damn wine.” You smiled.

He chuckled at your playful chide. “You know you keep me sane right? You’re my savior.”

“I thought Jesus was your savior.”

“Well you’re a close second.” He smirked, as he let you enter the room before him. You both sat down in close seats, and ran down a list of things he needed to confirm for tomorrow nights events.

As you two worked, he decided to start a separate conversation. “Have you decided on whether or not you’re coming yet.” His voice was hopeful.

You sighed, knowing you were about to shatter that hope. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I think I’ll pass.”

“Why?” He cried, abandoning his previous tasks.

“I have nothing to wear.” You informed him. “Besides I’m a bit beat. I should relax before my exams come up.”

“But, it’s just one night. And anything you put on will be amazing. It’s the girl in the dress that makes it beautiful.” As he said the last part, he placed a hand on your knee and caressed it.

You stood to your feet to avoid his lingering touches as well as ignore the look of disappointment on his face. “I can’t just show up in any thing. There are way too many important people coming. I would have to make a good impression, and I’m just not up for it.”

Finn abruptly raised now hovering over you and turning your body to face him. “What is this really about?”

“What do you mean?” You asked looking at him through an inquisitive lens.

“We both worked so hard on this. This gallery is practically your baby, don’t you want to see other people enjoy it?” The pads of his thumbs massaged your shoulders. The act was innocent, but to you it burned to have another man touch you in the way that only Tony should.

You shrugged your shoulders to make his arms fall and took a stroll around his desk, placing space between you. “Of course I want to see her success, Finn.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, slowly meeting you on the other side, unsure about his actions now.

You knew what was stopping you. Finn had to practically beg you to go out with him on regular days, and you would eventually do it to rid your mind of Tony; but this was different. Attending this event reminded you of the ones you, Tony, and Edward would participate in.

While you were Edward’s plus one on paper, it was really Tony who you would move through a room with. He would introduce you to some of his friends in high places. You two would have riveting conversations about the world and art. By the end of it all, you would ditch Edward (which wasn’t hard, because he was usually the one to ditch you guys) to sip expensive ass champagne until you passed out the next day in some hotel room you had no memory of entering. This event screamed reminders of your past life. And your past love.

“I don’t know.” You lied. But Finn knew you were lying. He also knew what, or rather who, was stopping you.

He sighed, and gazed at you before speaking again. “Is this about your ex?”

You were curious as to why he asked about Tony when the conversation had nothing to do with him. “Why do you ask me that?”

“Because it always seems to be.” He came to stand directly before you, now more sure of himself.

You could admit your tone of voice changed as you said your next line. “Well it’s not.”

“When are you gonna get over him?” Finn asked, ignoring your words as well as ignoring the defensive tone they were laced in.

“I am over him.” He made you feel small, so you straightened your posture to appear more intimidating, a sharp scowl now decorating your face.

“No you’re not. You’re still depressed about him.” He sounded a bit annoyed now.

“I wouldn’t say I’m depressed…” You cooed, trailing off a bit with your thoughts. Am I depressed? And if I am, do I really wear it for the world to see?

Worry etched itself into your expression, which made Finn say, “You’re too young for this. And you’re too beautiful. You shouldn’t be worried about a guy who isn’t even here.” Finn stated. You thought that what he was saying wasn’t fair, because he didn’t even know the full story. “I can help you get over him.”

He made you blink rapidly at his words. “Woah Finn,” Finn continued his case.

“Just let me take your mind off of him. I promise i’ll be worth it.” he was always forward, but never this forward.

“Finn stop.” He was now closer to you, cornering you between himself and his wall. His office felt much smaller now.

“I like you Y/N, and not just as a friend.” He was now just a breath away, so you threw your arms in between the two of you, only for him to lightly grip your wrists.

“Finn—” You were cut off by his lips, as they stole a soft kiss from yours. You immediately broke the connection by looking down, brushing the area he just touched with your fingertips. Finn looked at you expectantly, face flushing as he realized what he just did. He dropped his hands from their positions on your wrists and stepped back.

“Y/N, I-I’m so, sorr—”

“I’m late for my other job now. I’ll see you Monday.” You hurried out, as you circled around him to leave the room before he could say another word.

ººººº

Your entire shift at your neighborhood cafe, felt like a blur. You chose to work at a cafe for similar reasons to the ones at home: the rustle and bustle of the world made you feel calm, and like your problems were small. But now all you could think about was Finn.

He was right, you were still hung up on Tony. In your defense, five months didn’t seem like enough time for you to move on from a relationship that shifted your entire being. But they did say, to get over one man, you should get under another one. And Finn, was a man that you would have been attracted to under normal circumstances.

He was handsome. Articulate. Cultured. Kind. He was the type of man, who could move a room just by walking in it. But he wasn’t Tony. That fact alone was how you knew you were beat. If you could pass up an amazing man, for one you couldn’t even have, then you were crazy.

He smelled of ginger, and he tasted like cinnamon for those fleeting moments that he held you. You thought to yourself that you could do worse. You weren’t supposed to be with Tony anyway, so what was the harm in being with a man who was begging for you to use him?

The harm was, that you weren’t that kind of a girl. And you didn’t wanna hurt him.

I am making this harder than it needs to be. You thought to yourself, as you walked into your apartment building. Your decision to go to the gallery’s opening became a hell of a lot easier, when your doorman greeted you with a package. You hesitantly thanked him and took the elegant box, before walking up to your flat.

Setting it down on your counter to rid it of its satin pink bow, you freed the top cover and unraveled the tissue paper. Underneath all of the wrapping was a sparkly rose gold material. You pulled it out to reveal a ball gown, that looked as if it was made specifically with a princess in mind. The puffy skirt of the gown had a large slit in it and it was made of a sheer, almost see-through fabric. Glitter ran throughout the entire dress, but where it was most prominent was the bodice. The straps were off the shoulder, and they connected to a deep plunge a few inches below the neckline. It was beautiful.

Your first thought was to anger. The dress looked like it cost him a fortune. You felt obligated to thank him, but you were also mad that he spent money on you as a form of apology. You hated when people just gave you things. It instantly made you feel like a burden.

But then your second thought was one of guilt. Leaving him so quickly, must of made him feel terrible, and that fact helped you swallow your anger. He really liked you, and you could at least show up to the gallery to support him. After all, you were still friends.

You just silently prayed you wouldn’t regret going.

ººººº

Cool air nipped at your bear arms and chest as you made your way through the night. The wind caused cold tears to fall from your eyes, and your fingers felt like icicles. You knew it would be cold tonight as winter transitioned into spring, but you didn’t anticipate it this much. You didn’t have a proper shawl to sit across your shoulders that matched your dress, so you sucked it up and power-walked to the gallery. It definitely felt nice to step into the building’s warm and inviting embrace.You instantly felt your cheeks warm up as you stood in the middle of the entryway.

The event was in full swing by the time you arrived. You were instantly surrounded by laughter, and chatter, as rich people debated amongst themselves about the intent of certain pieces of art. Beautiful melodies filled the air, as classical music played softly in the background. The ambience was warm despite the cold night air peering through the high glass ceilings. You thought it was nice, how even though the building was so well lit, you could still make out the faint glow of stars above you.

Being an observant person who could easily meld into the background, you thought the sight before you was beautiful, and you immediately felt regret grow smaller in the pit of your stomach.

You searched the crowd, trying to seek out Finn and thank him for urging you to come, as well as for the dress. You found him at the top of a balcony, chatting up one of his guests. You swallowed your uneasiness as you made it up in your mind to confront his and your feelings. Maybe I could give him a try because he really is a nice guy. That was your train of thought as you made your way up to him. I could learn to love him. You thought. If it doesn’t work out, I still have home in just a month.

As you got closer, and closer to him, you thought of Tony, and immediately froze in your tracks. You felt guilty for even thinking about someone else before you were over him. You were disappointed in yourself, for your readiness to use one man, in order to get over another one.

You were about to turn around and forget about the entire event, before Finn caught your gaze. He stopped his chat with the man in front of him and excused himself to walk over to you.

You looked like a gapping fish out of water as he approached you. Finn was always so well put together. Seeing him in a tux, only made him appear more intimidating. He somehow made you, with your dress, naturally done makeup, and beautifully pinned up hair, feel small. Little did you know, he felt smaller.

“Y/N” He started, almost at a loss for words. “You look beautiful.”

To save face you forced yourself to speak, opting for the playful banter he had come to love. “Why are you acting so surprised?” You sheepishly smirked.

“Well I didn’t think you were coming.” He beamed. He was relieved to know you weren’t still mad at him.

“I couldn’t just waste this.” You said referring to your dress, grabbing a fistful in each hand to lift it and emphasize your point.

Finn bought his eyes over you, basking in your beauty. “You look darling in that. But I thought you said you didn’t have anything to wear.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, smile faltering. “I didn’t, until you—”

“Finn! Over here darling, I want you to meet someone.” His mother called to him in english, gesturing to a well-dressed attractive woman.

“Okay.” He replied to her before bringing his attention back to you. “Stay right here. Don’t move I mean it.” He floated off, abandoning you and your confusion.

Why was he acting so oblivious?

You felt moments pass as Finn worked himself around the room. You watched him as he drifted from person to person, seemingly forgetting about you. He was in his element, and you were happy to see him happy.

Leaving him to do his own thing, you walked down the stairs deciding to occupy yourself by people watching. That was when your emotions began to overwhelm you again. You leaned against a wall, newfound glass of wine in hand, trying to drown out the noise around you. Everything seemed to remind you of Tony Stark. The rich men in their suits. The stimulating discussions. Even the drink between your fingers, reminded you of him. Now too encapsulated with your thoughts once again, you turned to the wall behind you, immersing yourself into the art. The sad girl in the painting, derided you, as you met her eyes. She was pretty, and like you she felt alone. At least we can be lonely together you thought, scoffing at the idea.

“Why that frown, everyone in here knows you’re prettier than her.” Your heart sank, as you turned to the side meeting the face of the familiar voice.

“Tony?” You exhaled, blinking rapidly as if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“In the flesh.” He smirked down at you. You threw yourself into his open arms, as he wrapped himself around you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, then your temple, as you inhaled his scent; it had been such a long time since you had even done that. Your drink spilled on the floor behind you, and the look of shock you received from a nearby stranger made you feel deranged. It didn’t matter, how crazy you looked, Tony was here and that was all you could care about.

Pulling back from his embrace, you felt your words form at the back of your throat unable to bring them out. “What are you doing here?” You managed to ask.

“You know I could ask you the same. Berlin? Was all that French I taught you, for nothing?” He joked, holding you in place.

You were becoming blurry-eyed. You terribly missed his wittiness. “How did you find me?” Though you were happy, you couldn’t help the tears that streamed down your face.

Tony wiped them away with the pads of his thumb, “First. Dance with me.” He reached a hand between the two of you, willing you to take it.

“This isn’t that kind of an event Tony.” You chuckled.

“Who cares? I need to hold you.” His words made you tear up again. You soon became a sobbing mess, and those around you shot him dirty looks for making you cry.

“Princess.” Tony cooed, sending apologetic nods to random people as he tried to comfort you. “You’re making a scene.”

You ignored him, and kept silently whimpering, gradually growing a bit louder, as your face contorted further into a frown. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Still crying you began dry-heaving as you chocked between sobs. “Alles ist gut.” Tony assured strangers, informing them that all was well.

“You know German?” You squeaked between sobs.

“When I found out you were in Germany, I learned a bit on the plane ride here.” He grabbed a napkin from a passing by waiter, as he told you this.

“So you learned German for me?” You sobbed louder, causing more people to look over.

“Y/N, baby please stop crying.” Tony pleaded. “Please stop."

You sniffled and began wiping your eyes, smearing your mascara in the process. He used his napkin to wipe away the excess mess on your face. “Now can we please try this again?” He asked holding his hand out. You took it, and he lead you to the center of the room.

Now the attention was as a result of the spectacle in front of them. First a girl practically pours her expensive wine on the ground. Then starts crying. And now she and her beaux are dancing in the middle of the gallery. How unhinged you must of looked in the eyes of a stranger.

Tony couldn’t be more in love with you. He held you close, one hand clasped with yours, the other resting on your lower back as he gazed into your eyes, mesmerized by your existence. You two swayed back and forth, ignoring the judgmental stares and whispers. Eventually others gained the courage to join in, inspired by the silly Americans of the room.

He broke the comfortable silence first. “I see you like the dress. You make it look beautiful.”

“You bought this for me?” You exclaimed smiling. It made sense now, how else would the measurements be so perfect?

“Of course I did. Who else would?” He asked with a single raised brow, his signature “you better tell me, or you’re in trouble” expression.

“Mmh, hmm, Mmh.” You mumbled shrugging your shoulders upwards. Of course that was a lie, but you would tell him later.

He decided to address your lie later as well. He changed the subject for now. “So why Berlin? Why not London, or Italy? Italy was you second choice, you loved Italy!”

You giggled at the amount of times he said Italy. He bathed in the sound. “Germany was the first place Pepper could arrange on such short notice. Besides, we thought you would never think of looking here.”

“I would search the ends of the universe for you.” He said, face and tone all of a sudden serious. You inspected him for a minute, heat rising to your cheeks, before you both cracked a smile.

“You’re so fucking cheesy.” You laughed.

“I thought you loved it when I act cheesy.” He expressed, mocking fake hurt.

You smiled and kissed his chin, ignoring his dramatics, opting to be enveloped by the silence. You were calmed as he rocked you in his arms, pulling you as close as he could. His large warm hand on your exposed lower back felt like home. You two fit together like puzzle pieces, and you were happier now than you were the first time you kissed. Now you weren’t in secret. You were out in the open, as you experienced a new first in your relationship.

You broke the silence this time, as you laid your head on his chest. “So how did you find me?”

“Tonysbitch99 Y/N? Come on, I’m a fucking genius, and I’m not exaggerating. Your last tweet led me here”

Your head shot up so you could question him. “Wait. So you went out on a fucking whim?”

He laughed at your outburst. "Well actually a blue-haired girl encouraged me to check your twitter account. I found your hidden one on your old phone. That led me to your apartment.”

“Nao.” You said in a low menacing tone. You had some words for her as soon as you got back home. But when you thought of home, your mind wandered back to the obstacles in your way. Being so happy to see him, you forgot about Edward. “Tony” You sighed. “You can’t be here. Edward will find out. And you could lose everything you worked for. Your dreams have to mean something to you.”

“They do. You’re one of them Y/N.” He always had a way with words, and just as you were about to protest he cut you off. “I won’t go into details about it, but everything is fine. You can even contact both Edward and Pepper if you don’t believe me.”

You believed him. The fact that he involved Pepper’s name encouraged you to. “Enough about me though. You seem to have been keeping yourself busy.” He whispered against the shell of your ear.

“What do you mean?” You asked, flustered by his action. He suddenly, but slowly dipped you so that you could focus on where his line of sight was. Your eyes met Finn, who was busying himself with guests, as well as stealing glances at the two of you. As you focused on him, Tony peppered kisses along the heart of your exposed bosom. The gesture forced you to shoot up out of embarrassment. You knew he was marking his territory, but you immediately scolded him.

“Who is he?” He asked you, ignoring your tiny hits and reprimands. Once you calmed down, you told him about Finn. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of us, or should I say you, since my being here.”

You averted your gaze from Tony, and he immediately knew you were hiding something from him. He pestered you, until you told him about Finn’s crush, as well as the shared kiss. By the end of it all, he was sending death glares his way.

“You should introduce us.” Tony suggested, gravitating towards Finn, before you held him taught.

“Calm yourself.”

“What did you say his name was again? Finn?” He asked, but he already knew the answer to his own question. “Finn. Finn. Finn.” He repeats, as if the name felt like a bad aftertaste on his tongue. “You know what? I like it. No, I really do, it fits him, because he looks like a fucking fish.” He spat.

You grinned and asked, “You’re not jealous are you Tony?”

“And what would I have to be jealous of? Did you not hear me say fish?” He questioned.

“He’s a sweetheart. Come on, let me introduce you.” You were about to take his hand to meet Finn, but were surprised to see that he was already making his way over to the two of you.

“Y/N, who might this be?” Finn asked reaching out to shake his hand. He knew who Tony was, most people did, but this was Finn’s way of acting as if he himself was more important.

“Tony Stark” Tony interjected, acknowledging the outreached hand, but blatantly refusing to shake it.

Finn dropped his hand, before speaking again, smile now twitching. “Nice to meet you Mr. Stark. I’m Finn Schmidt.”

“Well that’s rather unfortunate.” Tony mumbled, loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“Tony!” You chided, slapping his arm.

“What?!” Tony cried. “You heard him say his last name was Shit, right?”

“He said Schmidt.” He knew that. Tony ignored the glare on your face that demanded he apologize.

The sound of laughter rang in your ears, as you both snapped your necks towards it. Finn must of thought he was funny. “Y/N, your grandfather is hilarious.” Finn said, now deadpanning at Tony.

Tony looked down at his hands, then at your brown ones, then back up to question the handsome boy. “Do I look like her fuc—”

“You’re right Finn. My boyfriend is pretty funny.” You say, examining his face with a small smile. Your comment shocked both him and Tony. He was happy that you could finally call him that.

“Now,” you continued. “I’m a bit tired from these past few weeks. I think I’m going to call it a night. Enjoy your evening Finn. I’ll see you Monday.” You smiled, as you tugged Tony away.

“Goodnight Fish Shit,” Tony smirked over his shoulder, as you dragged him towards the door.

“It’s Finn Schmidt, you idiot.” You corrected, sending an apologetic nod back to your friend.

“What did I say?”

ººººº

Pushing the door open to your apartment, you unstrapped your shoes to place them next to the door, urging Tony to do the same. You threw your keys in a dish, and turned to him to whisper your intentions to go and slip into something more comfortable. He stared at you with a small smile as his response, dark eyes searching yours, while his remained unreadable. The dim light from the kitchen, illuminated his face, making it look intimidatingly beautiful. Or was hauntingly the word?

You suddenly felt nervous, realizing that this was the first time in months since you had been alone together. Handing him back the coat he let you borrow for the walk here, you cleared your throat, and averted your gaze before excusing yourself from the room. Tony relished in the fact that he had reverted you back to your first stage of innocence.

Upon your exit, he took a slow stroll around the room. He was careful to take in all that he had missed. Curious of how much you had changed, and how much you stayed the same.

Accents of your favorite color were spread throughout the room. You had an open kitchen, and the living room was right across from it. They were both tidied to perfection. You had sleek wooden floors, that looked like they had never been stepped on. Furniture, that looked like it had never been sat on. A stove, that looked like it had never been turned on. Your place was nice, but he could tell you were rarely home.

The walk here, you told him of your job on top of your internship, and school.You didn’t complain about it. In fact, you appreciated the chaos, and constant busyness. But he hated that you worked like a dog just to make ends meet. There was now all this time he would have to make up for, by spoiling you.

He bent over to examine the books on your shelves. Some were new. Some that he had suggested. But what he searched for were the ones you would spend your summers rereading, as if the words would leave the page; desperate to memorize every letter.

He moved on, now curious about your smart TV. What new shows were you watching? Did you still love the ones he remembered to be your favorite, or did new ones take their place?

He picked up the candle on your coffee table. The scent of honeysuckle assaulted his senses. It was much different from your usual vanilla. He sat it down to continue his journey to your kitchen.

He raided your pantry, your cupboards, and your fridge to see if you had been taking care of yourself. The contents were scarce, and he had to remind himself to scold you later.

“Are you hungry?” You asked smiling, grasping the hallway’s entry frame. You were wearing an oversized ash gray shirt whose front was tucked into a pair of frilly pink shorts. Your previously pinned hair now fallen was framing your cheeks, as stray pieces were pushed behind your ears. You removed all of your ruined makeup, and the result left a sheen of dew on the surface of your skin. If he thought you looked surreal at the gallery, ethereal was the word he’d use now due to your natural glowing state.

“Yes” He replied. But he was getting full off of your appearance alone. There was no need for useless human sustenance. The way you looked was enough.

You came into full view, grabbing a glass from your cupboards to pour yourself some water. “Well I’m afraid you’re not gonna find anything here.” You took a sip, offering him some. “But it’s not too late. There are still restaurants open.”

He reached for the glass in your hand, but instead of taking it, he placed his hand over yours to make you feed him sips of water. He eyed you over the rim of the glass before setting it down to say, “I’m full now.”

You swallowed hard, walking to sit on a stool on the other side of the island. Tony fell backwards directly in front of you, letting the cabinets behind him catch him. He drank you in with his eyes, as you felt yourself shrinking under his scrutiny.

“What?” You questioned, shy from his gaze. He said nothing, and just watched you.

After a moment of playing the staring game, you tried to break the silence again. You looked down at the shirt you were wearing to spark a conversation. “I’m sorry I stole your shirt. I needed something to remind me of you. I hope you didn’t miss it too much.”

“The only thing that I missed, was you.” He said after minutes of deafening silence. Is he mad?

Looking down out of guilt you told him, “Well I’m here now. Tell me how you’ve been.”

He felt like your question was a loaded one. Not once did he think about himself while you were gone. He was constantly thinking of you. I’ve been lost. He wanted to say. I’ve been hopeless. I felt helpless not knowing where you were. Not knowing if you were okay. So many things were on the tip of his tongue, but instead he settled for “Let’s just say, I’ve missed you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” You were genuinely curious about how his life was without you. But Tony looked like he didn’t want to explore the subject further.

“That’s how I feel.” He declared, drifting slowly towards you.

You decided to continue talking in order to fill the awkwardness. “Well its obviously how I feel too, but I wanna know how you’ve been holding up.” You ignored his sudden closeness. “Could you at least tell me how every one is? You mentioned Nao had blue hair? It was pink when we met.” Tony stood silent by your side as you asked your questions. “How’s Samuel? And Pepper?”As you rambled on and on, he traveled behind your stool, placing his hands on the chairs bars. His scent began to envelope you, and thats when your rambles became incoherent. If you weren’t already nervous before, you definitely were now.

He picked up on it, like he usually does, and asked “Am I making you uncomfortable?” in a hushed tone. You felt his breath fan the back of your neck, goosebumps formed on the little parts that were exposed. Your thighs clenched together, as you were suddenly turned on by how he made you feel both small and secure at the same time.

He grabbed your chin, lifting your neck upwards and to the side, just before he placed a soft kiss on your lips, the first kiss since your reunion. It was so soft, you felt that he was afraid you might break; or as if you were only a part to a vivid dream. Deepening his touch, he let the fingers that were lifting your chin, trail down the line of your neck. Soft fingertips brushed against your skin, until they collectively found a loose position around your throat. He let his thumb explore your jaw, while his tongue explored your mouth. Soft lips quickly turned into rough ones, as they fought to release every frustration and emotion he felt for the past five months.

When he pulled away, he had the nerve to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, as if he hadn’t just tongue-fucked your face a moment ago. “Sorry.” He apologized, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” He then walked back to his position by the counter, as if nothing happened, turned to you and asked “So what was your question again?” Innocence and genuine curiosity etched his features, like the lust, from a moment ago, never existed.

Quickly overcoming your fit of fluster, you hesitantly stood to your feet. Tony never took his almond brown eyes off of you, as you seductively sauntered over to him. You had an idea. It was one you rarely thought of. One you never acted on; but if your time in Germany taught you something, it was to go for what you wanted.

Now standing directly in front of him, doe eyes boring into his, he shut them as you placed your hands against his chest, leaning in for a kiss. Much like his, it was soft. A feather like touch against his mouth. You barely pulled back to whisper, “follow me” against his lips. His eyes fluttered open just in time to see you retreating down the hall.

It was now his turn to become flustered, as he felt himself growing hot. He gave himself a moment to cool down, before taking his time walking down the hallway. As he poked his head in every room, just before he came to the last one, he found you sitting comfortably on your bed, stripped down to nothing but your bra and panties. Your elbows were propped up holding your weight, and your leg was crossed against your other as you patiently waited for him to enter the room. Your head was tilted as a seductive smile played on your features.

Tony returned the expression, and he was about to dive into you, until you raised your hand to halt his actions. “Take off your shirt.” You ordered.

“Excuse me?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

“You heard me.” You dared. Though your tone was soft, he knew you meant business. He searched your eyes for a moment, not finding his usual hint of submissiveness. So he decided to humor you. He leisurely unbuttoned his cuffs, glancing up at you every now and then. Then he took his time loosening his bowtie, dragging it off of his collar. He went painfully slow as he unbuttoned his bib, leering in your direction as he did so. Making you wait is what would usually break your spirit, and it was his favorite game. But you had learned patience while in Germany, so tonight was your night. You uncrossed your legs and raised to your feet, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to roughly pull him into a kiss. This one was more feverish than the one shared in your kitchen, and it caught him by surprise since he was usually the one to take control.

You switched your standing positions with him so that you were now the one facing the bed. As you deepened your kiss, he got pushed further back, until his knees collided with the mattress. You stood between his legs surveying his cherry swollen lips, before you reconnected your mouthes.

You laced your fingers in his hair, breaking your kiss, to harshly tug his head upwards. The guttural groan that escaped his throat, left an ache between your legs, while liquid pooled to the center of your panties.

With the newly exposed skin of his neck, you stuck your tongue out to lick a slow stripe from his adam’s apple to his jaw, eliciting a string of curses from Tony. You then placed wet kisses down from there to his abs, kneeling to face his crotch.

The prominent bulge, made your eyes widen with anticipation, and mouth salivate from thirst. You fell to your knees, licking your lips, fingers now fumbling with the buckle of his belt. Tony grasped your chin, lifting it to meet your eyes. “Y/N, I don’t want you to think you have to do this.”

You smiled at him, assuring him that you wanted to, kissing his fingers before going back to your previous tasks. He tensed up when you placed your hand on his thigh, just as the other worked to release his cock. The veiny appendage sprung free, and its size still intimidated you as you struggled to fit it in your tiny hands. Still, you were determined to make him feel good.

You wrapped your hand around it, holding his drunken gaze, before stroking him up and down. You placed chaste kisses along the base, until you reached his crown. When you swirled your tongue around his head, Tony’s dick bucked in your hands, and his large palm shot up to tangle in your hair, urging you to suck. You swatted his hands away, and fixed him with a stare, silently telling him you’d stop if he didn’t let you have this. When confident that he learned his place, you wrapped your lips around his tip, lowering yourself further down his shaft, twisting the parts you couldn’t fit (which was still a lot.) He was a moaning mess, when his dick hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head up and down his length, mewling when you made him groan. The vibrations from your moans, sent jolts of electricity up his spine, and he struggled to contain himself.

Gagging against him, you shot back gasping for air, only a string of spit connecting you. After six more motions like that, Tony shot three thick ropes of cum down your throat. The sound he let out as he came, made the area between your thighs slick.

He usually spewed words of encouragement when you gave him head. “Just like that” or “Suck daddy’s cock” filled your ears as you worked him through his orgasm. But to see him come completely undone, unable to form a sentence, let alone control the situation, had you feeling more than satisfied. His head was thrown back surveying the ceiling before he bought his attention back to you. His face was a soft shade of pink, and sweat covered his forehead; it worked like glue, as pieces of disheveled hair stuck to it. “Who taught you how to do that?” He asked between breaths.

“Finn.” You joked, but as soon as you said it, Tony grabbed your arm to yank you to your feet. He grabbed the nape of your neck to pull you closer to his face.

“I know you’re just kidding sweetheart, but I don’t find that funny.” He rasped in a low tone. The grip he had on your neck caused you to whimper, but you didn’t mind the sting. It only riled you up.

You stepped back from his embrace, to undo your bra, just for him to yank you back in once it was off. He began kissing between your sternum, dangerously close to the mounds of your breasts. You chuckled at the feeling of his facial hair tickling your skin, but then your giggles turned into moans as his beard created delicious burns across your surface. He reached his hands down to your waist ridding you of your panties. Once you stepped out of them, you pushed him backwards on the bed, to crawl over him placing both thighs on each side of his.

He bit his bottom lip at the sight of you, eyes burning with desire, and hands trailing from your thighs to your waist. You grabbed his dick, brushing it against your lips, before slowly guiding it to your entrance. As you sunk down on him, he sucked in air harshly, while you yourself let out a gasp of pain.

“You still fit like a glove, baby.” He moaned out, glowered at you through hooded eyes. His hands tightened their grips around your waist to help you ease yourself onto him.

A pained gasp erupted through your chest; the farther you sunk down on him, the further you stretched out. Pleasure began to burn in your loins when you met his end. You threw your head back and planted your palms against his chest, rocking and grinding on his cock at a painfully slow pace. Your clit grazed his base as you did so, encouraging you to pick up your speed. His hands that were previously on your waist, crept up your front to fondle your breasts. You grabbed his wrists to help lift yourself up and down his shaft.

The faster you bucked against him, the closer you came to meet your edge. He found his words of encouragement, when he heard your lusty pants of pleasure. “Such a pretty girl.” He praised. “Look at you go.” He whispered. He watched sweat form against your cupids bow, and your expression contort further into one of pleasure.

Your pace began to falter which is when he placed an arm around your back to sit the two of you up. Using the edge of the bed, he met your hips with his own, fucking into you at a new angle. His pace was faster, and more accurate than your own, which meant with each thrust he his your g-spot head on. His grunts and your pants echoed off of the walls as he sent you barreling towards your orgasm. You shut your eyes, letting the ecstasy hit, as you panted his name, over and over again.

Letting the pleasure wash over you, you came to a complete stop, your moans sending vibrations through Tony’s chest. He didn’t stop though, his thrusts were relentless, as he tried his hardest to bury into you. “Keep going.” He ordered you.

“I can’t daddy.” You whimpered, already fucked out, when you barely even started.

“Yes you can.” He simply said, forcing you to sit up straight. You straddled his lap, met his eyes, and placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, trying to will yourself up and down, but your hips just wouldn’t let you. By this time, he stopped completely as well, to catch his breath.

You laid your head in the crook of his neck, defeated. “I’m sorry.” You exhaled into his skin.

He lifted your head to cup your chin. When his eyes met yours, he pecked your lips before saying, “It’s okay princess. You did so well…but now it’s daddy’s turn.”

With that, he picked you up and wrapped your legs around him to place you at the top of the bed. He got rid of the rest of his clothes before he crawled back into bed, sinking into you again. You both let out groans at the feeling of his fullness.

Tony threw nice and slow out the window, and immediately began drilling into you. Your moans turned into deafening screams as his hips bruised your pelvis. He pried your legs open, placing quick kisses along your neck as he did so, knowing it would drive you up the wall as well as comfort you. He bit and sucked harshly along your collar bone, sending your mind into a blissful haze. Your hands shot up to his back, clawing at the flesh. You left blood in your wake, as you raked your hands down the skin. He let out a growl at the feeling, thrusting harder into you as a result.

Your second orgasm arrived quicker than your first, but the feeling was more intense. He left you writhing, and shaking on him, as ripples of pleasure coursed through your body. Giving you a minute to collect yourself he flipped you over, before saying, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

A look of alarm spread on your features, when you looked behind you to see him lining himself up yet again. “Tony I don’t think I can cum again.” You whimpered.

“Awe, I thought you were a big girl.” He teased, smirking as revenge for earlier. While he loved the way you look on top, it obviously hurt his dominating spirit when you took his control. He leaned down, grabbing the side of your face to better access your ear. You felt his hot breath fan the side of your cheek as he whispered, “You’re gonna take all of me, until I fill you up with my cum.” Then he let you go, causing you to fall forward.

You were so turned on it didn’t make sense. You just had three orgasms rip through you, yet your pussy was begging for more.

He slammed into you for a final time, this position trumping them all. He gripped your hips, locking in on you, giving you no chance of escape. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t try. You climbed to the top of the bed, trying to put a bit of space between yourself and Tony’s strokes, but he just pulled you back in, fucking you harder than before.

Tears welled up in your eyes. The intensity was becoming entirely too much. Your nipples brushed your bedsheets the harder he fucked you into them. His balls slapped against your clit, every time he met your hips. And his grunts of pleasure from using you, sent you toppling over the edge for a third time. The stimulation sending you into a convulsing fit. You squirted against him, covering his member with your sticky wet cream. Luckily for you, he followed shortly after, coating your walls with his thick white seed.

When you collapsed, he rolled to the other side of you, both of you breathing heavier than before. When he caught his breath, you turned over to drape your naked body onto his.

“Was I too rough” He asked, suddenly feeling like he went overboard.

“Absolutely not.” You giggled. “Please do that to me all the time.”

He smiled in response burying his nose in your hair. The smell of coconut immediately comforting him. “I love you Y/N.” He cooed.

You lifted your head from his chest to kiss him sweetly. “I love you too, Tony.” That was the last thing you both said, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Whether your relationship lasted a lifetime, or ended in a year, in this moment you were happy. Happy that you no longer had to hide from the world. Happy that he was finally in your arms again. Happy to want someone, who wanted you even more.

Happy to exist at the same time as him.

A/N: Please do not repost my work as your own. Comments, likes, and reblogs are encouraged. I love you all, and really hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading :)

#tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark au #black reader #tony stark angst

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the-scottish-costume-guy · 5 years ago

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JK Rowling, transphobia and a hopefully helpful post.

A few days ago I posted on my Facebook (yes I have one sue me) debunking some of the things Rowling has been saying on twitter. Since she made a statement I felt the need to make another one... but this time Im sharing it here. Please note this is long, it is fairly opinionated in places but her statements have felt so insidious I want to share something in depth. If you are cis I implore you to read, but I understand this is long and a lot of people wont want to. No judgement.

Jk Rowling’s latest statement is a mess of valid concerns and fear mongering. At this point there can be no claim she doesn’t know what shes talking about - she herself has said shes been researching this for years. She throws in token acknowledgements to “real” trans people while framing the rest of her statements as concern for confused teens.So first things first - and something that might not be popular with some of my trans friends. I agree that teenagers should not be able to medically transition. It is a choice that should be made when the brain is fully mature. Hormone blockers are something I trust - and that are reversible. I have seen enough detransitioned people hurting to feel like we do need to be careful - especially with children who are trying to find themselves. I dont know about other people but during my teens I was coming to the crushing realisation that I wasn’t special. I was learning that no matter how well I painted someone else did it better, no matter how badly I hurt someone had it worse - I was learning about the wonderful mediocrity of life, and having anything that made me stand out gave a brief reprieve from learning to be okay with all these things. For me to be fair it was dying my hair outrageous colours and dressing in black leather during 30 degree summer heat - but its still something we cant forget. I KNOW a lot of kids claiming to be trans are - and I dont want to keep that from them, however I dont want to cause harm to the kids that are wrong. Continuing on, I’d like to address her comments about TERFS. Terfs are Self Described Trans-exclusionary-radical-feminists and the term does get thrown around a little too liberally at times. Terf is not and never will be a slur. No more than “White” is. It is about a group of people who have taken it open themselves to segregate another group - and calling that what it is, is not a crime. The reason Terf and transphobe have become synonomic is because the ‘radical feminists’ that subscribe to this have lost focus on nearly all other issues of feminism and sit squarely on “dropping the T” from the lgbt community and “keeping men out of womens bathrooms.” Terfs are overwhelmingly women - this is sadly simply a fact. Terfs are reviled because of how much it feels like a betrayal to the community. A group that fights for rights - except ours. A group that wants equality - except for us. Its different to the conservatives who hate us all equally - with Terfs we are singled out. Terfs are not, as Rowling claims, inclusionary to Trans-men. I’ve been met with a combination of pity, loathing, mockery and revulsion by people within this group. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t let homophobia push me into transitioning - only for all correspondence to abruptly drop when I mention Im marrying another man. I’ve been told my old body was beautiful - only for stunned silence when I agree. I was beautiful - I was curvy, I was a dancer and had a body to match - but I wasn’t Me. When their usual arguments against me fail - I’m met with hate. Im called anti-woman, traitor, homophobic. I even have some such comments saved on my blog. I have yet to meet a Terf who was pro-trans-man. Rowling claims that had she had the ability, as a confused teen, she may have sought to transition. I hate to tell her but she did have the ability and trans people didn’t pop into existence in the twenty-first century. I’m actually looking to do my dissertation topic in my final year on lgbt presentation throughout history - and in my overeager way I’ve already started researching. James Barry has been becoming a common name for years - a transgender surgeon who died in 1865. If Barry was able to at least socially transition from 1790 to 1860, I am fairly sure Rowling could have in 1980 - over a century later. Rowling also claims that groups of friends in schools all suddenly identify as trans at the same time. Speaking from my school experience - the queer kids group together. We seek out others like us, and we take strength from each others bravery to come out - often around the same time. We almost get a rush of resolve when one of our group musters the courage and strength, and some of us use that rush to bite the bullet ourselves. Its one of the beautiful ways the lgbt community is here for one another - and the influx of people identifying as trans is partially a factor of more people knowing the name of their feelings. Survivor bias will ignore the trans people through history without the knowledge or means to transition - and will claim they were never trans at all. Her initial statements about charities worry me in particular. As I said last time - we know sex is real, we just dont really like to be defined by it. She is worried that we’re going to “rebrand medicine” and ignores that medications for years have had warnings in their leaflets about “If you are or become pregnant” regardless of if the person receiving it has a dick or a vagina. We dont advocate for ignoring the differences in how people respond to heart attacks - and I for one would like research to be done on how hormones effect that. I dont actually know if I would respond more like a cis gender woman or a cis gender man if I were to have a heart attack or a stroke. But where possible we do want to change the language around some of these things. I have had a double mastectomy, but some Cis-men have these as well. This is not a gendered term. Why should a period be called anything else? Why call it a “womens problem.” I and Im sure many other trans people, support the research into how different medical and mental issues affect different sexes. I just think that should be extended further - and we know it should, as some medical issues affect people of different ethnicities in different ways and we don’t know how. I am truly sorry that Rowling has experienced abuse and assault of any nature. I am truly sorry that she has felt unsafe. But her feelings do not invalidate others experiences. Of the trans people I know, a saddening number have been assaulted, have been abused and in particular have experienced these things domestically. There is much work to be done on this in the UK. There are nearly no mens shelters for sufferers of violence to my knowledge. I, a trans man who have experienced some of these things in my teen years, would Not want to be around cisgender women even if I could be. A cis woman was responsible for much of the pain I personally suffered - and in fact one of the acts of violence she carried out against me was directly after I came out as trans to her. Trans women, even if they could go to male shelters, should not have to be surrounded by a group that put them in danger - in a place that is detrimental to them physically and mentally and is frankly degrading. The belief that allowing trans women into shelters for those escaping abuse is dangerous is sad. To be so afraid is deserving of pity. To let fear blind you to the suffering of others - to think its better that a trans woman face homelessness or a return to an abusive household because you personally would sleep better at night is the kind of passive evil we should be aware of in this day and age. It comes from choosing to see the word “trans” before “person.” Its from choosing to see a persons genitals before their humanity. Trans people are not dangerous - and cause no greater risk than any other demographic. Her claims that she can empathise with this fear are empty. A gender recognition certificate is not a ticket into womens bathrooms. Funnily enough you dont actually require a piece of paper to go almost anywhere. I do not have a gender recognition certificate and use male bathrooms, can enter male spaces as I please. All a gender recognition certificate does is change the letter on your birth certificate. It doesn’t even affect other forms of identification - my passport, my student id, my drivers license all already say male. I am not sure why so many people have chosen this as their hill to die on because its the least relevant thing to them on the planet. How often have any of you seen another persons birth certificate? Rowling says she and other ‘gender critical’ (a terf dogwhistle) people are concerned for trans youth. Well… she can take her condescending concern and direct it to matters that are relevant to her. Trans people want to be left alone. Its a simple request, and yet people endlessly seem to trip over the dirt level bar.

#transgender #jk rowling #terf #transphobia #lgbt #uk politics #I'm prob gonna get shit for this arent I

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junipedia · 4 years ago

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OK SO HERES THE FIRST 2 CHAPTERS I KNOW THEYRE NOT GREAT BUT ITS FINE

Hunting season

Dull. This day feels dull. I mean that’s how Oregon weather usually is, grey thick clouds layered over the sky like a weighted blanket threatening to fall with water at any moment. Heavy underbrush making the already crowded woods feel even more claustrophobic. Sneakers seeming to sink further into the wet moss with every step like the woods itself was trying to reclaim you. The snap of a twin you'd hear every once and awhile filling your imagination with every reason besides a rational one as to what it could have been. As unsettling as the woods here are, they bring a sense of comfort and peace like even if something was watching you out there it had no fowl intent with you. Night on the other hand was when those vicious creators came out to prowl. Those snaps of trees turning into something that could be hunting you, chasing you. The paths you thought you knew so well turning into a maze of inkyblack darkness that's reaching out for you…

The snapping sound was louder today than it usually was. My face pointed towards the tops of the dying trees, half expecting to see something looking back at me but just being met with a flock of geese flying overhead. The snapping started up suddenly, whipping my face back down to eye level trying to see through the thick ferns and weeds. It sounded like a bulldozer headed straight for me. “Oh my fucking god, Athena” i let out the heaviest sigh of relife once I saw the fluffy tail zig-zagging around. I stood upright and rubbed my face, someone must have let her out after I had already left. The only way back to the house was the way I had come. Which was a steep forgotten road that always seemed to stay a bit to be taken care of for being abandoned. Athena rushed past me hitting the breaks when she got to the bottom of the hill. She stopped though her always wagging tail stopping and dropping in between her legs. I stopped. She only ever did that if she was scared or was seeing something she didn't like. I just stood and watched her. If there truly was a threat there she would let me know, show some sign that the area was suddenly dangerous. it couldn't have been a person because if that was the case she would have started barking. In less than a minute her tail was back up and she was trotting away like she was only seconds ago.

“That's a big dog” perched between the underbrush a person sat hunched over making intense eye contact with the canine. He dealt with big dogs but he'd usually know about them beforehand. Well, it wasn't like he DIDN'T know about Athena. He'd been out here watching this family for a while now. He didn't have any tv or media so he liked watching the family's he was camped near for however long he was staying. He'd been in these woods for a while playing cat and mouse with the hunting dogs that the people on this hill owned. Watching this family was the only source of entertainment. He thought it was funny how they argued almost exactly how his family would have, the only reason it was different was that instead of these parents holding it against each other they would sweep it under the carpet only to let it bubble over and resurface in later conversations. The oldest was the most fun to watch. Seeing how each day she drove herself into the ground trying to be the best for everyone just to let them down like she had feared. He thought her name was ironic because it held so much truth, she was just a scared little bunny adopted by wolves trying to also just be a wolf. He stared back at the dog waiting for it to do something. He'd actually grown fond of the pooch so it brought a sliver of warmth when she didn't bark or snarl at him.

“Athena!” I walked to join her, giving her a scratch behind the ears. She wasn't acting strange anymore meaning whatever had spooked her must have left before i could see it.

Walking away I popped my knuckles against the opposing hand.

Pop crackle snap

I stopped, those were cracking joints but. Not my joints. I turned back in the direction id came from. Athena was already long gone from the house so if something was there I'd have to see for myself. I raised my hand up near my face pressing down on one of my fingers until it let out a loud pop. I waited but sure enough a louder crack came from in front of me somewhere. Hesitantly taking steps forward i'd let out a pop only for it to be followed by a louder more aggressive one. I crouched down thinking it could have been in the trees. I brought my hand to my chin and turned it, letting out a chorus of snaps.

Silence. A slow breath escaped me from relief that is until a grotesque song of crunches and bones grinding together. I turn my heaad my eyes meeting with wide crazed one frantically trying to focus on me but the spastic movemts of its shoulders and neck making it hard to look at one thing. I couldn't even make a noise, i knew there was a homeless camp near my house but i had never actually seen any of them. It grabbed my shoulders so tight it was painful. My back hitting the ground causing the air to slip out of my lungs. Its shoulders were still rapidly moving as it pressed its hand around its jaw covering my mouth. My hands shot up and tried to push at its face and chest. I didn't know what to do. It was on me weighing me to the ground. The hoodie it had on covering its body type hiding how strong it could really be. There was nothing i could do, it was obviously stronger than me.

Something must have switched in my brain to say “move idiot if you don't you'll probably die in these woods” I opened my mouth as wide as i could, biting down on the top of its hand. Blood seeping into my teeth and gums. The strong taste of iron filled my mouth as I heard the crunch of the bone I had hit. A mixture of saliva and blood pooling out of my mouth all around and down my chin. It didn't move, didn't even flinch.

Bears trap

He panicked. What else was he going to do, his tics had ever reacted that badly before to someone else's. He held her down, his hand almost covered half her face. He tried to tilt his head to look at her but it just came off as more jerks and pulls from his muscles`just like a bunny” he thought, if he moved his hand just right it could break her in just an instinct. Just like that she’d be gone. His thoughts were interrupted by the crunching of his hand. He watched her try and basically chew her way away from him. “The bunni thinks she's a wolf now” he watched her for a second again before taking his other hand and picking up a good sized rock.

“This is it” I watched him raise the rock, tightly closing my eyes. The only thing I felt was an extreme headache before I just went numb and limp.

“Why is it so cold” was my first thought when I started coming again. Sitting up the familiar sound of a tent zipper opening caught my attention. I tried to sit up and got trapped in the thin sleeping bag I had been in.This was the first time I had seen him at least somewhat up right. He was at least a foot taller than me, leaning into the tent like he was the one cautious of me. He crawled into the tent looking at me, his eyes not as crazed as before but still holding a feeling that at any moment this bomb could go off. He didn't speak as he inched closer and closer. He then reached his hand out. His finger shook as I leaned back but was trapped by the tent. A hot pain running through my back as he touched my forehead where the rock must have hit me. The mask covering his mouth hid what emotion he was truly portraying at the moment. The hand he touched my head with was bandaged, reminding me of the bite I had given him. I raised my hand and wiped my mouth, sticky red blood still coming off meaning that it really hadn't been all that long since all that had happened but just long enough to get dark and colder outside. I opened my mouth but didn't even get a chance to speak before he beat me to it “just dont just dont yell” it took me back to hear him.

This obviously isn't an adult just by the voice. His voice was raspy and almost menacing. Even if he was my age he was still just a kid. We didn't say anything for a while, just analyzing each other like it was a mutual agreement that we would let each other realize what was actually happening before doing anything rash. Yeah, he may have basically kidnapped me but that didn't mean I had to be a dick to him. I don't know how long we stared at each other, it could have been hours or only minutes but after that he crawled further into the tent and simply laid down. Almost like he was just watching me to see if i would do anything to try and leave or get away from him. The only thing keeping the tent illuminated was a small battery operated lantern that was barely bright enough to light up the small tent. He sat up again and looked at me just to turn the lanter off. I could hear him shifting around, maybe to take his mask off. We just laid in silence for what felt like forever. “Aren't you cold” even though I was staying quiet it sounded like I was yelling in the small tent. There was no answer for a moment just the sound of him moving around again. I thought maybe he was asleep before I heard a deep inhale. “no” there was a long silence again before he spoke ”are y-you cold cold?” i hesitated before answering “yeah….i guess i am pretty cold”.

Again there was silence before he moved. I felt him come closer to me before feeling one of his arms touch me. This wasn't right. Not even twelve hours ago he had been the one to bash me over the head with a rock to take me to whatever kinda temporary camp this was. He must have read the room because he stopped and waited. I really took a moment to think about what was happening. Everything was happening way too fast but at the same time the little I've seen of him has shown me that even if he is my age he's clearly unstable. If I didn't let him do what he wanted he could blow at any moment and I really don't know what he's capable of.

He waited for another moment before moving towards me again. He stiffly wrapped his arms around me, even though it was awkward and uncomfortable the warmth he gave off was a nice change from the harsh forest cold.my mind must have just fallen unconscious at some point because the next thing i knew the tent was lit with the dull sunlight that was managing to come through the overlay of clouds. He wasn't next to me anymore but the smell of smoke burned my nose as I could hear the sound of fire crackling and snapping outside the tent.I slowly unzipped the front and peaked out. He was sitting with his back to the tent facing the homemade fire pit that he had made.

Toby hated the fire. He hated all the pain that it has caused him but it was something that he simply couldn't avoid. One of the things he liked about the fire now was that he could tame it, control when it grew and when it withered away. He looked down at his bandaged hand. He hadn't slept last night, he was too nervous to make even the slightest movement just in case it would wake her. The warmth she had given off was...new. “Why did you let me hold you?” he spoke down into his hands, the zipper making him turn around to face her.

They both froze like deer in the headlights again.

No mask. He wasn't wearing his mask right now. He looked so normal. He just stared at me for a while and I stared back at him. Him turning back towards the fire was enough for me to snap back out of it. He poked the fire with a stick, moving a few blackened sticks around to stir up the fire causing embers to rise up into the early overcasted sky. I scurried around him and sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching him through the flames. His eyes shot up at mine like he suddenly felt my eyes on him. His stare was so intense i wouldn't say lifeless no, there was something buried deep behind those eyes doing something to him. I looked back down into the fire, what was there to talk about? Did he even want to talk? I just want to go home.

“Were you cold l-last last night?” I looked at him furrowing my eyebrows together. ‘This man bashes me in the head with a rock but is worried I was too cold?’ I shifted my weight, pulling my legs closer to myself. “I was fine.” There was a long silence after that before either of us even thought to move. He was the first one to move, getting up and grabbing something from the tent. “Where are you going?” he actually seemed shocked that I asked “getting more fire-wood” the moment he said that my eyes snapped back towards the fire. This could be my chance to run.

#ben drowned #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #ticci toby #toby rogers #jane the killer #slender man #creepypasta wallpaper #creepypasta fanfiction #fanfic #self insert #x reader

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mental-health-advice · 3 years ago

Note

trigger warning for not wanting to live, trans struggles, self hatred

sorry that this is super long and whiny, no pressure to respond but thank you a lot if you do!

hello there! I'm currently unable to access therapy so I can't get diagnosed. I was already diagnosed with a sensory disorder as a child and general anxiety. I know I can't self diagnose but I want to better understand what's going on with myself and at least have an idea. Throughout my life I've felt really badly depressed. I can't remember the last time I wasn't depressed, it must have been when I was really young. The depression never goes away. It is occasionally less severe but only when I'm escaping reality. I'm transgender and I am not out to most people. I can't stop thinking obsessively about getting surgery. I fear deeply that I've been influenced somehow to feel transgender, because I don't usually feel a want with such conviction. I am never decisive, I always doubt myself, but I am so sure about how badly I need surgery that it scares me. The fact that I physically cannot stop myself from thinking about it is really concerning. My life is falling apart around me, I'm constantly failing and losing everything, and all I can think about is this daydream of getting surgery instead of fixing my life. I'm scared that I don't really want surgery and that I'm actually just telling myself that when I get surgery I will be able to fight my depression. I fear that I'm lying to myself about needing something to make it better when nothing can really heal me from depression. I understand that it won't just go away, but I want surgery so badly that I feel like it is the end goal so I can start living. It is the only thing that keeps me alive sometimes is the idea that I can do it one day and live my life and cope with depression. Sometimes I feel happiness for a second and it makes me so uncomfortable and scared because it's so foreign to me. I feel so alone. I have always felt so awful and sick about myself in every way. I don't even understand fully why I feel like I'm transgender. I know I've always hated my body and wanted to be a different gender, but I wonder if I am not trans and I actually just have self hatred problems. Inside I really do want someone to tell me, yes it's okay to be transgender and you're not wrong, go get surgery and then you'll be able to live your life. But not only is that confirmation bias ridden, wanting to hear validation so I run away from any transphobia, but. I also worry deeply that I will get surgery and then remain just as depressed because I am the problem. I feel like I am the reason my life falls apart. I dropped out of college 2 years ago and left my job and i tried going back to school but i failed my classes. I am living with my family again and I work for them but I don't really get paid enough to save anything. I'm too depressed to think of what i want to do in the future even though they ask me all the time what my plan is now that i failed again. I cant talk honestly to them about any of this. Im so scared of it i have constant nightmares about them knowing anything about me. I try to stay positive but i feel broken and useless. i am failing in every way. i dont know what to do im really desperate. Thank you a lot for being here for people.

Hey lovely,

I’m sorry to hear that you can’t access therapy. I do hope this will become a possibility in the future, so that you can get properly diagnosed, but most of all, so that you can get the treatment you need and deserve. Like you might know, we don’t promote self-diagnosis for the reasons listed here. However, we do think it’s good to be aware of your own symptoms and try to understand them better.

I’ve personally been diagnosed with Persistent Depressive Disorder (Dysthymia). This is when your depression lasts longer than two years. Throughout dealing with PDD, there can be major depressive episodes, since the depression with PDD tends to be slightly lighter / not as heavy. A different term for PDD is chronic depression, which I personally found really scary because I felt like it’d mean it’d never stop. The term chronic here is meant more as in ‘long term’, rather than ‘forever’.

It sounds like you see surgery as a chance for your depression to fall away. While I do think that you can feel better after surgery, feel more like yourself, I doubt that not having had surgery yet is the sole cause of your depression. It’s usually more complicated than that. So it can be tricky to expect so much of it, because then you can only be disappointed and I wouldn’t want you to have to go through that.

It also sounds like daydreaming about your surgery, is something that holds you up. It helps you manage your current mental state. And I’d say that’s okay! We all need something to keep us up, to escape the reality of mental health struggles. Of course you do need to face it from time to time, but you can’t do that all the time. You need an escape sometimes. So if that escape is daydreaming about surgery, I don’t want to take that away from you! I have my escape too, I read a lot of books where I can escape into different worlds.

Feeling depressed can become a security blanket too. It’s a familiar feeling. You know what it’s like. So then when you feel happiness, or at least a bit happier than usually, it’s scary. You don’t recognise that feeling. It’s completely new to you. So it feels uncomfortable and you try to get back to feeling depressed, because at least you know that feeling.

I can’t look inside your head, so I can’t tell you whether you’re transgender or not. But I can tell you that it’s completely okay to be transgender! You mention that you’ve always wanted to be a different gender, which sounds completely valid to me! Even if you hadn’t felt that way always, you could still be transgender. It’s okay to be transgender, it’s okay to want surgery. But I don’t know if it’s fair to expect to be able to live your life without depression afterwards.

Sometimes, thinking about the future can be too overwhelming. That’s what I find at least! I dropped out of uni and have been working ever since, but if I think about the future and going back to uni, I get overwhelmed. So I try to focus on the present. I’m working now and that’s okay. It’s okay for where I’m at right now. If I manage to feel better mental health wise, then maybe I can think about going to uni again. But right now that isn’t doable, so I don’t consider it. Do you think this approach might be helpful for you too?

I hope this helped at least a little bit! If there’s anything else we can do to help, please let us know.

Sometimes what seems impossible, is just hard. Love Pauline

#mental health #advice #advice blog #transgender #gender #LGBTQIA+#LGBTQ+#LGBT #depression #persistent depressive disorder #PDD #dysthymia #chronic depression #surgery #mhapauline

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startwithbrooklyn · 3 years ago

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THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 30, 2019 // larkspur lane/the whisper box

this post is a double whammy cause they have 2 eps happen in the same day if u can believe it (thats how awful judging timelines in this show is!!)

-"hi josh..." LMAOOOOOOO

-BESS just breaking in lmaooo how many god damn times does bess just shit the bed in this show

-LOVE her frowny face at nancys closet ("my expectations are low" lmfaoooo but this would totally be me)

-"bet she meant it metaphorically" okayyy but then why did lucy say that at all? i feel like theres defo more to this story, combined with josh's cagey behavior (part of which is to get nancy to stop looking into shit d/t him and karen but still)

-"they dont accept visitors unless they're family" .....🙂

-ace "youre really good at that" to bess i fuckin love this friendship with all my heart (also love their talk at the claw mirroring nick & nancys talk in the last ep)

-also PINK AND ORANGE BESS ARE U BLIND (also 1) why tf would nancy own this and 2) where would she wear it??)

-okay wtf is vampire dip

-"boss??" see this is what i meant yesterday about nancy ruining everything for nick/george

-god DAMN she sucks at dealing with this news lmaooo that emotional competency babey + love george literally agrees to help bc she feels bad (AND nicks immediate look of "you just reprimanded me for helping her last ep and i know why youre doing this rn" lmaoooo)

-LOVE george noticing nick "shout out to jean valjean" lmaooo once again nancy would never have noticed/commented on something like that

-"get the hell out of here" was this foreshadowing for an epic dad joke for these two eps? "how do you make holy water? you boil the hell out of it" 😂😂😂😂

-so what i dont get about the whole haunting is the ball + kids' laughter but its all the emphasis on "mr roper" the adult? wtf like what kind of entity is this

-"how did you ever have a solo career??" 😂

-okay amaya's hair is gorgeous here (also "you feel like a snack" ....👀) *ahhh so the reason bess feels so off balance is bc its like a top vs a top scenario

-has anyone who's ever been to prison confirmed this is what it looks like?

-love how ace is the only employee there when they all leave so he had to fucking close the place when he goes

-why does she take the whole file? time constraints? it'd be smarter to take pics + replace it (better sleuthing) but this place is clearly not well run anyway 😂

-so this is a pretty decent cover she invents but theres no way she would get away with it so easily for a real guard

-love how ace recognizes ryan's car (+ is able to find it by driving around)

-"my father wouldnt do anything like that" LMFAOOOOOO SIS WHY ARE U DEFENDING HIM ironically, ace is actually the best person suited to engage w ryan here d/t the car accident + connection with laura being ryans SIL. its a unique set up

-i am fascinated by the concept of priests + holy water being so effective here combined with mcginnis' beliefs and basically nondenominational ghosts/seances etc after that. the show is very clearly big on diversity but definitely steers clear from too much WASP stuff yk? wonder if other stuff from christianity works against the ghosts/demons like taking refuge in a church "holy ground" or using silver etc

-"did this start after the night of sept 10?" *this is where you get the time line for the seance if you didnt know

-this is so fucking funny when u realize that patient sal talks to is actually a ghost so sal really is psycho i guess 😂

-bitchsplain/tall jar of mayonnaise 🙏🏻😌 2gether 4ever

-how did ace get this van? also heart attack when he yells at carson (but then grins at him like a goofball lmaooo)

-"for nancys sake and yours" damn she owes ace big time for all this shit

-"what do we do for 7 minutes?" ...ummm play 7 minutes in heaven lmaooo 👀🥵

-was not expecting ace to look this sexy holding an axe but okay (*ah, its his short sleeve shirt showing his arms. usually hes a sleeves guy)

-"desperate for attention" nancy (from gomber) vs "bc she's starved for attention" patrice --> lucy (and candace also...) we know nancys detective work makes her seem like an attention seeker, but what was lucy doing to make them all think that? she was trying to hide her relationship with ryan, not expose it. unless they just mean the rumors about her?

-so is patrice hiding lucy's "truth" talking about lucy being a whore or lucy being a ghost? what is lucy's secret? did patrice guess she was pregnant or did patrice's somehow garbled mind remember tiffany trying to show patrice the video with lucy on it?

-wonder what captain thom thinks of this stand off w ace lmaooo

-"like you do?" top v top shenanigans

-how awko for carson to talk to karen again like this

-"oh no" ACE 😂

-love how amaya says "be a human" like shes kind of admitting people in rich circles typically arent (^this is an interesting focus in s2 when bess's rich family rejects her, thus making her human again, but nancy embraces her rich fam and experiences subsequent moral struggle which is predicted with the wraith)

-wonder what ryan thinks he could get from the marvins (which he cant get now lmaooo)

-this damn whisper box. so many questions. who named it the whisper box? why are the ropers' old possessions still there? who decided to build a mental hospital on top of it? and patrice! she "hid lucy's secrets" hannah gruen thinks tiffany tried to show patrice video w lucy on it, which patrice then specifically says she hid in the thin mans book. so patrice knows of the thin man? can she see him? does she know he was a ghost/supernatural? she must have a supernatural sense to know about him (unless sal told or some shit) so then when tiffany shows up w/ lucy being supernatural in it patrice hides it to protect her? is this why she is "crazy" kinda like victoria? supernatural elements or ability to sense ghosts makes her unstable? this is why lucy being a ghost/nursery rhyme that she repeats makes patrice worse/"stroke"? how did patrice even get into the whisper box to put the key in the bible and get out without getting trapped? also, her dementia --> lucidity is really fucking off, some people mildly switch like that but usually with dementia they cant even register new shit anymore

-...so did bess take the ride? 👀

-interesting how celia says "your father will be disappointed" but nothing of her own opinion. wonder how much celia truly puts up with to keep everett calm and nonhomicidal

-like george asking nick follow up questions that nancy never really would have asked

🥞🥞🥞(ep13)🥞🥞🥞

-is this bitch just eating a plain pancake with her bare hand?

-"extra case load and excessive volunteering" ugh. nancy's family here are like, gross in how "good" of people they are // unrealistic, trying to paint carson in the best light/ no way ryan could ever compare (but the reality is theyre not that good of people for lying about nancy) **and shes arrogant to think shes better than everyone else ie the only one who truly lives virtuously, thinks she can do no wrong sometimes even tho using sex to cope, breaking and entering, etc is not morally "good" stuff she still thinks she is the only one who doesnt lie and plays fair (like in the pilot she lists everyone else as a suspect but herself- obviously we know she isnt guilty but no one else does. (i mean in theory we really dont, what if nancy was an unreliable narrator and was actually guilty, that would be a hella cool show)its reactions like that where she cant understand why others like the chief suspect her

-ooooh ironic that in the Good Place carson readily agrees to pay her for helping with cases as opposed to s2 in reality

-nick's house has "problems" so why does he need a lawyer? as opposed to an interior designer, plumber, or realtor?

-in the Good Place nick and george realize they are not going to work out after one date. does this failure in the Good Place predict failure in reality, or merely an easier way of figuring out the truth? does this mean that the "opposite" of the Good Place is reality, or only an opinion of what is better? (nancy says "you all like me" as her opinion of them liking her is skewed; does this then only reflect nancys version for what is the "perfect life"?)

-why is bess a hippie??? and love how george curls her hair and wears pink lipstick here

-if this dream is so realistic then why is the one thing it cant conjure smoke? like how random

-love the locket being a key realization bc with things like jewelry you dont notice the weight of them until theyre gone

-"you all like me" in her perfect life nancy means they "like" her objectively/regardless of circumstance even though liking her is still an objective choice (like they "like" her because of other reasons instead of her working at the claw? (like how you make friends with coworkers/people at school every day but after you leave the job/graduate you never speak to them again) and her "thanks for showing up!" as if theyre not doing exactly that in reality 😐like where is she getting this shit? she sort of acknowledges in earlier eps she is hard to like/that she puts mysteries before friends, but also pushing them away to avoid danger like the previous ep "why do u show up" etc

-is it just me or does the inside of nicks "house" look like the drews'?

-nick has a dick scar lmaooooo (or more likely was hit in the balls or smth)

-love how nick + george match their anger in confronting sal 100% on the same level

-so when did ace go back to work after having such a busy day earlier?? lmaooo

-damn father shane is a creep (casting defo hired him for his voice) and how tf did he just poof + escape? and what did he request???

-love bess's white hair bow here 😌+ her jacket, whole outfit on point as usual

-like how bess is right that nancy has to find her way out but thats kind of a nonstarter for a room full of panicked people wanting to help

-in the Good Place theres no bad blood between drews + hudsons bc nancy is really theirs

-"the only one who has the key is you" in the Good Place nancy has the key (smaller picture, to finding out what happened to lucy but bigger picture, post-reveal) but ryan has the clues nancy needs- following the Good Place's mirroring, this just means that in reality ryan will either be completely useless or an active hindrance (but you KNOW this is a dream bc in what universe would ryan remember clues like that 😂)

-so in a perfect universe ryan acknowledges his family's "criminal empire" as opposed to reality where he only makes under cover jabs about disengaging with being an "entitled corrupt legacy criminal" ie finding the bonny scot relics but does nothing about them, etc

-"strippers" 😂

-okay what is nancys obsession w her beanie?? bc her mom made it? "wear beanies do crimes?" idk

-making the call: nancy -unable to make up for lost time/both her mothers had to find out/suffer alone / in the Good Place nancy was able to be with kate while she called, and in reality she had carson; somethig about seeing the mother looking to the daughter for strength in the Good Place instead of the reverse (which is what reality sounded like, kate being strong for nancy through the illness despite the struggle)

-concept: nancy & nick "let's wait out the storm"

-"i believe that you believe it" nick in the Good Place + owen in reality both trust nancy when she says she's seen things (owen's is the teeth) but nick in reality (and not really knowing details) doesnt think much of their "moment" bc it wasnt real (so she had to leave the Good Place to save carson- but if she had known then he wasnt her real dad, would she have stayed to be w nick?)

-stranger - suede james 💙👌🏻

-"really anxious as a kid" v telling bc of her desire to know everything to remain in control of situations like she always does now

-"the medicine or the metaphysics?"/"you cannot beat supernatural with science"

-i love nancy playing with her pinky while saying goodbye 🥺

-"always seek out the truth even if it hurts" this is straight irony bc kate never told nancy anything. like does that include the truth about nancys parentage? they taught her to seek out the truth, but who taught her that the truth is the only thing to live by? ie things dont count anymore like carson and kate straight up raising her is tossed out bc she finds out its not "the truth" like all that work/stress to protect carson + she just drops him? with kate maybe shes just upset thst she spent all that time mourning for someone who lied. and would she do the same to ryan if needed? probably

-bess and ace head tilt 💙

-like how for all the time she spent there nancy only has a subconscious memory of blue curtains

-YESSSSS i LOVEthese beautiful overhead shots of hannah's hands. so out of character for the show lmao but so gorgeous

-i feel like future eps/grand future will be nancy going through the lock boxes to help people who asked hannah for help

-the video is officially dated Aug 22, 2019

-soooooo in the first ep nancy breaks into the hudsons house and finds tiffanys secret drawer w the nail polish and finds the amulet with a note that says "for your protection HG" yet on this video tiffany says she talked to a medium who gave her the amulet sooooo am i just confused? HG is hannah gruen obvi so is the address for the medium what hannah gave her? or was the address on the amulet which nancy dissolved in salt water to see? so how would tiffany know where to go? its chicken and the egg which came first hannah or the medium?

and lastly:

i close these two eps with a thought that everything in this show is sealed in death. all the lies, the imagery, the fake constructs people put up to get by all crumple the second someone dies- all the secrets come clean just like these doors have been unsealed.

#brooklyn's ND primer #nancy drew cw #the Great Rewatch of 2021 #you best start believing in ghost stories miss drew - you're in one

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years ago

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Who are your fave characters in bnha (aside from hawks) and your least liked. In a "i dont like this one as a character or/and as a person" kind of way or even they're just meh to you.

This is a good and surprisingly complicated question! I'll try to give at least three from each category with my reasoning as I like most of the characters for one reason or other but marking down favorites and least favorites is not as straightforward as I first thought.

I love that most of Horikoshi's characters are either loveable, likeable, enjoyable to hate, or leave a benevolently indifferent impression. There's not really many characters that get on my nerves for just existing.

Except Mineta. He can die in a ditch. But that's too easy for our purposes he doesn't count. This time...

Mina is a character I just really am drawn to every time she shows up. She's described as a people person, and as a cautious introvert who often feels the need to put on appearances to make friends in a "you do not have a high enough friendship level to unlock my tragic backstory" kind of way, I feel like if she were a person I could just relax and enjoy myself around her. She isn't dismissive of people's real fears or insecurities and prefers to let herself be the best she is right now in all of her dumbass glory. I really, really love her even if I don't give her a lot of love often.

Iida is another character I gravitate towards despite not showcasing him often. I'm just always happy to see him and his dorky, admirable self. It's like you could look up "square" in the dictionary and his picture would apply to basically all possible definitions, but it's a good thing. He's conscious and proactive even if he seems overbearing, and it's just his way of protecting his family and friends' security and happiness. It makes me feel like I would be safe and cared for in his presence, you know? Bonus points for his wholesome adoration of his big brother (who is also a majorly underappreciated background character, imo), and I can't help but headcanon him as autistic. I literally can't not see it every time he shows up at this point.

Gotta give the last spot to Fatgum. Another detail about Horikoshi's character writing I adore is that the "obvious" thing about a character usually does not end up taking up the bulk of their characterization or is usually never focused on for too long. They have lives and identities outside of one or two traits. Being huge and fat like Fatgum in a Japanese society that usually runs smaller and thinner than the rest of the world (and that is never canonically shied away from) would usually be focus of his entire character in most other series. Here, it's just a blip on his entire sheet - an important one to be sure, but it's just been embraced as a part of who he is from so far back it's beyond old news for him. Confidence, focus, determination, and enabling others' personal growth is where it's at as far as he's concerned, and I am here for it! He's just so set and comfortable in his skin that he's got more than enough to give others a boost if he can offer it.

Horikoshi has a lot of empathetic characters that feel more like people than tropes (especially in the world of anime overrun with cookie cutter personalities to fill flashy but otherwise empty character designs), so there aren't many characters I just genuinely don't like or care for. That said, there has been a pattern I've been noticing, and wouldn't you know it happens to correlate with traits I don't like in real people, either.

I cannot stand people who can never admit they can be wrong. I mean those people that might say how everyone in their family or all their last group of friends hate them/left them or how their ex was crazy and when you ask if maybe they had any idea why they go, "OMG, I don't know! 😭😭😭 I just can't seem to find anyone who will love me for who I am, warts and all. 😇😇😇"

Sure, Jan.

So about the villains! To be fair, not even close to all the villains fit this bill. Most of them I either unironically love (like Rappa and Gentle Criminal) or love to hate (Dabi and Shigaraki). It just so happens that no "hero" character happens to grate or push my buttons in a way that leaves me either negatively ambivalent towards them or outright hating them. (Save one...)

Toga. Get your pitchforks, folks! BBQ is on the menu! I actually don't hate her or even dislike her. She's just not a character I can have sympathy for for very long. In a situation I couldn't just walk away from and hope to never see her again, she'd get some stern words a la Ochako a long time ago. Especially at her age I get where she's coming from and how she feels, but while asking people to just conform without question under threat of punishment is not inherently good, it's not unreasonable in her case and it's troubling she seemed to one day snap and decide she was being unduly repressed and killed someone when she looked like she otherwise had a normal life. I completely give her some grace for clearly having an "pretend it isn't there and it'll go away" kind of help, but she's capable (at least now) of realizing why people are repulsed by her behavior and that it's not unfounded. She needs much better help than what she got and certainly more than what the League offers.

I have similar problems with Spinner. He has a reasonable-enough justification for wanting to lash out at broader society, but he largely refused to help himself before the League of Villains and he'll always be working with a handicap in my book thanks to that. If he was living with parents and couldn't escape to a larger city with more inclusive attitudes towards heteromorphs I could understand, but it looked like he lived alone and either managed to finance his lifestyle or supplemented with government aid anyway, so points lost there as well. He relies on others to give him meaning, first Stain and then Shigaraki; and even then only acts on it because they give him permission to act out his aggressions in an environment that doesn't hold him accountable for it or ask him to do something constructive to change it. That came out harsher than I intended, but I really am not able to give him much room either way in this case.

Monoma. Ah, yes. The Exception™. Sorry, buddy. It's not like I don't get it. You've got a lot more in common with Bakugo than you probably like, but your brand of inferiority complex is just... Unhinged? Grossly inappropriate and misplaced? My dude, you gotta stop trying to knock others down to make yourself feel better by comparison, you can and will destroy your life doing that. I get that having a quirk that requires you to play second-fiddle is infuriating, but that's where you really need to leverage your individuality and be certain what defines your character in a vacuum. At that point you can find a way to leverage other's quirks in ways even they can't because of the sole fact that they aren't you. I know easier said than done, but I am rooting for you, buddy!

That was fun! Thanks for the ask! It's interesting to break down my gut feelings about the characters like this. I enjoyed it a lot!

#she speaks

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mysterious-masked-man · 5 years ago

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Now what I'm about to tell you sounds outrageous, and might be disturbing, but it's something that happened to me, and even though it was brief, I can't feel at peace until I tell you what's going on.

I'm a big fan of the online animated show, Epithet Erased. As such, I'm a huge peddler of fan content, indulging in other people's edits, fanart, and OCs, and creating my own. I dont share any of it, not with anyone online that I don't know. I am a good editor though, and I get asked to help edit compilations a lot by my friend, who's name I wont tell you for privacy reasons. They've asked me to edit silly little compilations out of raw material they send me, usually just of funny thing their favorite characters say.

This is the reason why I wasn't that perturbed to receive a video file over email from an unknown person. Their email was "[email protected]", and even though it's just a bunch of random letters, I didnt think anything of it. I myself have some weirdly named emails because I like getting free trials of stuff over and over, and I only remembered the name because I copied it to include in a message to said friend, asking if they'd sent someone who needed editing my way. I didnt get a response, but I decided to open the file anyway, just to watch it and see what was up.

It looked like content I'd already seen before, and since the thumbnail was of Sylvie in the museum, I immediately recognized it as the beginning of the 3rd episode. I watched through it, and nothing really stood out. For a moment, I had thought someone really just sent me the third episode as a .MOV file. The battle between Sylvie and Giovanni and Molly began, and everything went on like normal. Right up to the part where Giovanni was batting Molly on the head with a ball of yarn, it was all how it should have been, and I laughed at the joke the same as I always did. Then, Giovanni tossed the yarn, hit it with the bat... and things started to diverge from there.

First off, the ball didnt just bounce off of Sylvie like it did in the original. He flew right off screen, and that's when I had become confused. It had already been edited, it seemed to me, so I became confused as to why it was sent to me.

Giovanni said something like "wow, that worked? I didnt think it would", and I realized I hadn't actually heard that line before, or if I had, the inflection was different. I'm autistic and this is a special interest of mine, so I've watched the whole series over again nearly a million times. I could probably recite the first episode word by word if you asked me. As the dialogue continued, it became more apparent that these were professionally recorded lines from the original voice actors.

I got really excited, thinking or hoping for a moment that it was like, a leak of some first-draft content. I didnt even think about how weird it was that it was just something I'd gotten in an email. I paused the file and tried to exit my editing program to tell my friend, but my computer wouldnt let me exit the program. It's old, so this isnt unusual. I pulled discord up on my phone to tell my friend, and that's when I'd noticed they replied to my message earlier. They told me that they hadn't told anyone my email, and to not open the file, because it was probably a virus.

I told them that I had ended up opening the file, and that it was of epithet erased, but it was different. For a while, they thought I was pulling a prank on them, but I told them it was really well done, and the voice acting was too spot on to be fan made. They *demanded* I send the clip to them when I finished watching it, and I promised them I would.

I continued playing the video, and molly and Giovanni walked over to where Sylvie had fallen over. Molly suddenly became very upset, shouting and crying. Giovanni had to drag her away. The acting was spot on, and I was seriously disturbed. I couldnt imagine what it was that made Molly react like that. Giovanni pulled her out of the room, shushing and cooing at her as she struggled and kept crying. As they left, the camera didnt move, and the music had faded. It stayed at the exact angle for another few minutes. I don't actually know how long, but I couldnt skip forward, even though I tried. Actually, I couldnt view a preview of the video when I hovered my mouse over the bar at the bottom like I usually can. I could move the mouse over the line and see it was still playing, though. I tried to pause it, but for some reason it couldnt pause anymore. I decided since nothing was happening, I could just pull out my phone and text my friend about it.

I told them about all that I had seen so far, and they told me it might have been an original storyline that was just way too dark. Then I asked them why it was sent to me. They said they didnt know. I set my phone down, and looked back up at the computer, then froze.

Because I was staring at my phone, I missed it, but there was a clip of Sylvie on the ground. It was a sprite that was unlike his usual slouch/laying down sprite. This was about the time I knew something really fucked up was going on.

The ball of yarn had lodged itself into sylvie's eye. I could see the glass had broken, and the yarn ball was seriously deep in his face. Glass stuck out of his eye socket and his cheek, and blood dripped down his face, pooling down the sides. His head was also tipped back a little, and with the blood seeping into his hair and up his head, the back of his head must've split open, too. There was a dragging mark down the wall, and the origin point was a huge red splatter where he probably got thrown into the wall.

The sprite wasn't static like they normally are. Sylvie shivered and his chest would rise and fall with his shaky breath. I was honestly grossed out by how far this had gone, but it was like I couldnt stop watching. I knew it wouldnt pause anyway. I was too scared to message my friend, because I thought it might change again.

It might have gone on for another minute, just Sylvie breathing and bleeding, until he just stopped. There was no sudden flail, no cough or sputter, he just stopped breathing, and there was no more shuddering. After he stopped, it only took a few seconds for things to start happening. The flames started up again, like they did when he used nightmare fuel on molly, and the fire alarm went off. It cut right to Mera panicking about the fire alarm, and hitting indus with a crowbar.

I was so jarred by how this became normal again, I actually didnt believe it had happened for a second. I didnt believe they would just... kill a character like that. I didnt know what was going on.

Things didnt stay the same though. Before Mera could even find the amulet, Molly and Giovanni ran into the room. Molly looked shocked to the core, and Giovanni was really panicky. Mera made Indus apprehend them both. Indus went on his whole spiel about barriers, but Giovanni and Molly never finished the punchline. He did eventually trap them, and Mera found the amulet. She admired it, and put it on. As she walked towards Molly, Giovanni tried to escape his containment to stop her, but Molly actually looked more panicked when he called out to her. Mera extended her hand, and lifted Molly up.

The sound cut out for the next few moments, but you could tell a really awful noise alerted all 4 of them, and it must have been loud, because the screen shook. The camera panned over to the entrance, which had been blocked by rubble. The roof caved in, trapping everyone inside of he storage area. The sound returned, and there was audio of molly crying, but her sprite wasn't matched up to that audio. It moved as if she was speaking, and characters would reply, but her crying would be playing over it.

The room filled with white fire, and the fluid animation that usually appears at the end of arcs began. Mera, Indus, Giovanni, and Molly were all silhouetted by the fire, but the focus was on a figure that walked through the flames. It was obviously Sylvie. As he was illuminated though, you could see he was different. It was as if he had been grayscale. His skin was white, the clouds and decoration on his coat and pants that would have been teal were all dark gray, and everything else was varying shades of gray. His hoodie and his glasses, however, were red. One eye was red with a black sclera, and drooped. The other was pure black, and the glass of the glasses were cracked. Blood dripped from that eye, and from his mouth. The back of his hair was adorned with a ring of red.

You remember how I said there was audio of Molly crying overlapping everything else? When sylvie appeared, it stopped for just a second, and then grew more panicked. It was loud enough to drown everything out, and I couldnt hear what anyone else was saying. Molly just sobbed and screamed. There wasn't even any music, just that. Sylvie didnt say anything. He just stood as the flames grew closer to the four.

Indus shouted something, then ran at Sylvie. Before he could reach him, there was a spark of red dust, and he stopped. The back of his head exploded, and he fell forward. Another track of molly crying began playing over the current one. Mera looked around for a quick escape, but I guess she just got too panicked, and she ran right into the flame. She fell down in it, and i could see her silhouette burning and clawing at her skin, which was flaking off in the fire. Yet another track of molly screaming and crying played over the two, and it was beginning to get discordant.

Giovanni brandished his soul slugger doom back, taking a step back. His eyes filled with tears, watching as Sylvie approached. His grip on the bat tightened and it shook as an extension of himself. Giovanni let go of the bat and fell to the floor on his knees.

All the tracks of Molly crying cut off as Sylvie reached down, and picked up the bat. Giovanni bowed his head, and Sylvie threw the bat to Molly. Her eyes full of tears and her gaze averted, she picked up the bat and swung it down hard over Giovanni's head. There were a few frames where the bat collided with the back of his head, but then the screen went black. The audio continued to play. I didnt catch a lot of what was happening, because I began to feel this awful pain in my neck that caught my attention.

At first, it wasnt very specific. It was just an ache at the very top of my spine, like I'd been sitting funny. I heard molly crying again, and crackling fire. Then the pain got worse, and there were police sirens. The last thing I really heard clearly was percival reporting something to her radio, about being at the scene and finding the body of "an adolescent boy" in the museum, which I assumed to be Sylvie. The pain became unbearable - it was like someone was driving a nail into the base of by neck. I closed my eyes. I couldnt see the video anymore, anyway. As I focused on the feeling, I realized it was becoming more specific. My breathing cut short, and at first I thought I was having a panic attack, but it became more apparent that there was a pressure on my neck, like a hand squeezing my throat harder and harder, nails digging into my skin.

I lurched forward and turned my computer off. Once it was off, the feeling vanished, leaving a small ache in my throat. I coughed and wheezed, and the actual panic attack began to set in. I turned my swivel chair, expecting to see someone behind me, since it felt distinctly like I had been choked, but nobody was there. I grabbed my phone and fell onto the couch, hiding under a blanket as I fell deeper into a panic attack.

Once I was calm (or once it was over, anyway), I messages my friend and told them about what happened. They didnt actually believe any of it, and they thought I had been pranking them. I swore up and down that it was real, and I still do, but they demanded proof. So I had to turn my computer back on.

I got the courage to turn it on again about half an hour later. The file was no longer open, because the program closed when I turned my computer off. I tried to open it again, but I got an error box titled "Oops! An error has occured", and the box read "you weren't supposed to see this." When I checked the email again to download it and send it to my friend, I'd gotten a response from Lptnmjngaeprkfl that just read "sorry. That wasnt for you. Don't watch it again okay? I'm so sorry." No matter how many times I tried to message Lptnmjngaeprkfl I never got a response, and every time i downloaded the .mov file, it wouldnt open. If i tried to send it to my friend, it would crash my phone or computer, and the message would never send.

To this day, I'm still not really sure what I saw. I kind of wondered if it was possible for some other people to contact the creator and see if they would respond. I got my friend to message them, but they didnt respond at all. I'm hoping they respond to someone. Please, message [email protected] and tell me what you find out.

#epithet erased #long post #lptnmjngaeprkfl #tw blood #tw gore #tw death #tw fire #tw murder #tw panic attack #tw choking #creepy #sylvie ashling #[email protected]

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