#if you notice a problem with the perspective or anything no you didn't

[fractale-circuit]

doc getting viscerally nauseous from the idea of hank being a person with feelings rather than a living weapon. like the implication that he's putting a real person, one like him, through something worse than hell is. it makes me feel like. oh. ohhgh oh noooo

i noticed the tags on almost every reblog of that scenario i posted were some variation of garbled screaming and agony. i think that's good! my work here is done.

the thing is.. hank's humanity (gruntness? gruntmanity..?) is endlessly complicated, be it from their perspective or others'. hank isn't sure they are human, even before they're magnified which is an entire other can of worms.. they really feel more like a glorified piece on a chessboard than anything else, just one that stabs any hands reaching to try to move it and flings itself across the board for fun.

in turn.. pain is very normalized to them, if they feel it at all. subhuman things do not feel pain or express it. when they are injured, especially after some time (post mc6/being revived repeatedly by tricky), they hardly even notice and will go through a mission battered and bloody with almost nothing from their pain receptors, paying no mind until something serious happens or the blood loss makes them faint.

2b has to force them for checkups, for surgery, for anything, because they fail to see there is a problem. if they do see one, they know it's nothing they can't handle themselves and they've probably been through worse. i have an rp with my partner of hank actually hiding away after 2b sews up a wound to rip out the stitches and redo it themselves with regular sewing thread, because that's how they've always done it and they aren't permanently dead yet. the thing about stuff with high exposure, they lose their meaning over time.. for hank, those things are pain and death.

so after years of having to make them accept their humanity by way of accepting their pain, of course 2b is unbearably rattled to his core by them choosing to indicate that they hurt, to stare that humanity in the face and go to him instead of punching their reflection. it's almost like their way of asking for comfort.. "you are the only one i've ever known that cared when i am in pain, even i don't care anymore. i never could. please make it stop."

and.. i don't think 2b intends to treat hank like they're subhuman and continue that narrative, but he subconsciously does. he doesn't have much of a choice in that, really. this is where i think 2b accidentally parallels jebediah, but if you told him that he'd make you swallow all of your teeth; he's a man with his gaze focused so hard on his goals that everything else tends to go blurry. he's a control freak, he wants to succeed. success is fighting to make hank obey, bringing them back from the dead, demanding they kill and die over and over for eternity until he feels accomplished.

so to have one of those sacrifices look at him with humanity in their eyes and ask him for help.. he has to look through hank more than at them. he actually seizes in his movements and tenses uncomfortably, he can already feel bile rising in his throat and he desperately wants to tell them to leave, because this is too much for him and he's selfish. he really always did put himself before anybody else, didn't he? he makes himself ill.

he doesn't have the heart to refuse them, as much as he wishes he did. he swallows hard and tells them to hurry up and settle in then, because he's busy goddammit. and they do, and he looks at them and listens to them, and he sees and feels their exhaustion.

2bdamned wants to apologize, or maybe he doesn't want to, because that's admittance. treating someone with a very slight increase in warmth in their time of need is the coward's way of saying sorry. hank accepts his apology with understanding nods, the coward's way of saying thank you. they really are made for each other, you know..

[acoustic-eel]

feeling extremely normal about 'chester' and 'norris', as you can see

[loveemagicpeace]

Deep Astrology

Water moons in general have a very deep way of how they express and give their emotions. Cancer moon feels emotions very deeply. Many times they care more emotionally for others and when they love someone, they will really invest a lot in them. They like to care for others without expecting anything in return and can be deeply hurt when their energy is not returned.

How do you know that you are following your north node more? By starting to radiate the energy of this sign. For example: North node in Virgo - the more you love your body and start to accept your imperfections of the body and yourself, the more you will follow yourself. This north node often indicates that you don't like your body or that you don't know how to connect with it. You may have had some moments or wounds as a child that made it something you are uncomfortable with now. You may also be shy about showing your body to others. So, by connecting with yourself, changing your diet, exercise, and routine, you can start to appreciate yourself more. For ex.: if north node in virgo falls into your 8th house means you can connect with yourself through the darker parts of yourself and intimacy. You may have problems with intimacy, there may also be childhood wounds related to intimacy that may have led to you not accepting your body now

North node in Scorpio - you start to accept your dark parts of yourself and start to perceive the sacred and your emotions more deeply. The more you become aware of your power and inner emotions, the more you will be able to connect with yourself. You can learn to accept the truth and let people go from your life. Every time you let go of something, you can gain something. Transformation is an important part of your life.

North Node in Aries-When you become a better version of yourself and start to be more confident, bold, determined, courageous, then you will start to notice that you are changing. Here it is necessary to find yourself and your personality. For ex.: if north node falls into your 7th house It means that a relationship with a partner can change your life and help you find who you really are. The more courageous you are in love and relationships, the more you will be able to express yourself.Or you may have wounds from relationships that may have stripped you of your identity, or you may have lost yourself through a relationship. As a child, you may have felt that others did not accept you for who you are, which may have damaged your self-esteem.

The North Node doesn't mean that you are becoming that sign, but that you are starting to follow the themes and energy of that sign more. Because it is something that you don't accept or can't express within yourself.

When you come into contact with a person who shares your 12th house, it will consciously change your life and open up perspectives and wounds that you didn't realize you had. The person can easily open up something in you that you need without you even realizing it. They are a mirror of you and your subconscious and give you what you need in life. And usually you stay in contact with these people your whole life.

Pisces in your chart shows how you can connect more deeply with yourself and in what way. How you can discover your subconscious. For ex.: pisces in 6th house - you can find your subconscious through your body and routine. The more connected you are to your body, the more you will feel how powerful your subconscious is. Pisces in 3rd house -you can find your subconscious through your thoughts and communication. Through expression. Deep meditation.

Your moon is your emotions and how you emotionally respond to your surroundings. When you have a bad connection with your moon, you can have a very turbulent emotional life and find it difficult to express yourself emotionally.The house and sign in which the Moon appears in the horoscope indicate where a person is most likely to make life changes. The changes that the Moon encourages are always far-reaching. Life means changing. Changes require new adaptations. Therefore, these changes cause great emotional reactions.

An extremely important factor in a person's adaptation to changes in life is their attitude towards change. This can be most easily identified by looking at which planet the Moon was in conjunction with just before a person's birth. This conjunction of the Moon with a planet is expressed throughout life as the person experiences changes. For example, if the Moon was in conjunction with Venus before birth, the changes in that person's life are relatively smooth and the person will want to approach people with kindness.If the moon was in conjunction with Saturn may mean that the person will have difficulty accepting their emotions or setting emotional limits for themselves.

Historically, when Mercury is afflicted, it produces madness, drowsiness, dizziness, staggering, dry cough, hoarseness, and several nervous disorders. Mercury relates to how deeply you perceive thoughts, how you communicate and express yourself. Mercury in air signs is rational, logical and has a lot of thoughts. Mercury in earth signs will be realistic, determined and stubborn. Sometimes it can also be a little pessimistic. Mercury in fire signs will always be optimistic, inspired, passionate, direct. Sometimes can seem overly careless. Mercury in a water sign gives a very deep and emotional way of seeing and thinking. They usually perceive the world through imagination and emotions.

Venus shows your relationship with people and how you perceive love relationships. Venus conjunct Uranus often symbolizes several failed relationships followed by separation. Venus is the most important for chart comparisons because it shows what to expect and what type of obstacles will present themselves. With man show their attitude towards women. Venus in Scorpio- you are very committed in love and you are looking for someone who is equally committed to you. You do not like relationships that are superficial. Venus in Sagittarius is very picky. In relationships you are very passionate, playful, energetic, even fiery, intense and committed. You want someone who will share your adventure and excitement. You like to make relationships that have meaning. In love, you can believe in fate and try to find the good side of difficult situations. Venus in Capricorn is reserved, cautious, analytical. In relati You seek validation from another person. You never like to force yourself on someone and many times you can feel like you are too much and therefore withdraw. You are willing to do a lot for the person you love. You like it when the other person makes the first move relationships, you can be quite secretive and don't like to share a lot about yourself. It takes a lot of time for you to open up and start sharing your other, more open and fun side. You like to build relationships, but slowly, you want to see who will really stay. You may have problems with abandonment.

Jupiter, if afflicted in a sign, house or aspect, involves extravagance, wastefulness, dissipation, pretense, indulgence, intemperance, overconfidence, credulity, pomposity. It also produces quarrelsomeness, antisocial behavior, materialism and a craving for pleasure. Jupiter shows how a person thinks in a philosophical sense.

Jupiter in 1st, 4th, 7th, 10th house It is a very good position because it is supposed to protect the person from major accidents. Jupiter in Pisces can also indicate that a person survives many supernatural disasters and has a kind of blessing in life. Jupiter in 7th house is an indicator of multiple marriages. Jupiter in 4th or 10th house shows increased parenthood which means (stepmothers, stepfathers). Jupiter in 9th house shows that the person will travel a lot in life and that travel will have a great impact. Jupiter in the 6th house brings expensive pets that are difficult to maintain.

The part of the body ruled by the sign in which Neptune is located is often weakened by a combination of factors such as mucus, pus and viruses. These parts of the body are affected by drugs or alcohol. Many astrologers point out that the part of the body ruled by the sign in which Neptune is located can be affected from birth and is usually weakened if Neptune is heavily afflicted in the first or fourth house.

-Rebekah💗🌊

[larluce]

First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.

Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.

Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.

The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.

Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.

And so the adventures begin!

Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.

And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.

The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.

And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.

First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️

About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.

The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.

Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.

From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".

Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!

I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.

So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...

Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.

I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.

That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰

[resu-w-ana]

Merlin noticed it soon after the magic ban was lifted.

Every time someone used magic around Arthur, the king flinched.

Really, Merlin wasn't expecting Arthur to embrace all magic users with love and trust. He really shouldn't do something stupid like that.

He wasn't sure if Arthur knew about his own reaction or not. It hurt nonetheless.

Constant paranoia and perspective to be burned alive took the best of his desire to show people his magical talents. But the freedom was intoxicating, and whatever Arthur was afraid of magic or not, he would never took it's freedom again.

He had enough work as newly appointed Court Sorcerer to not let his magic idle. The knight and Gwen were here to enjoy pretty tricks too.

So Merlin reduced his magic around the king to doing only necessary things.

Making Arthur comfortable were more important than Merlin's desire to enjoy the beauty of magic with his king.

But the problem accrued from where he least expected.

«Why won't you use magic?»

«I- Ehm, It's possible to do without magic just as easy.»

«I saw you moving dinner plate because you were to lazy to stretch yesterday.»

«I thought I was alone! How do you even know that? Were you spying on me?»

«Oh, come on, Merlin. As if you are that interesting. Doors were open, I was just passing by.»

Even if doors were open, Arthur couldn't accidentally catch him, considering the fact, that there was only one way to Merlin's tower.

Arthur's weird explanation aside, the crisis was averted.

Or so Merlin thought. Because Arthur hadn't stopped.

Every time Merlin did something remotely hard by his hand, Arthur asked the same question: «why won't you use magic?»

Now Merlin was the one running out of weird explanations.

He had no desire to explain his reasoning to Arthur, nor asking Arthur for something he clearly wasn't comfortable with.

Merlin even paid attention to king behaviour around magic more precisely, in case it had changed. But no, the flinching was still there.

Contradicting his own reaction, Arthur cornered him with more determination them ever before.

«So tell me, why knights have no idea about yours so called "proper use of magic".»

«Well... They do know very little about proper use of anything. Especially Gwaine.»

«Yeah, Gwaine, who's apple your turned from green to red because he wished for another variety.»

«I-, Merlin started, as Arthur continued:

«Or should I mention fire figures you do for Leon constantly? The story about Lance's and Gwen's dinner table? Gaius' flying potions?"

Merlin felt guilt creeping onto him.

«Do I need to continue? Because I'm cer–»

«No! No! I got your point!»

«So?»

«So...»

«Explain yourself.»

When Merlin still hesitated, Arthur decided to use lethal weapon: «you promised no more secrets.»

Merlin deflated. «It's not a secret.»

«Then tell me.»

«I've noticed you've tensed whatever magic was around. Decided to spare you the trouble.»

«Oh.»

Suddenly, Arthur wasn't angry anymore. He looked sad and... Guilty?

«It's okay» and «I'm sorry» they said at the same time, than stared at each other.

«You have nothing to be sorry for!» Merlin argued.

«It's not nothing and it's not okay!» Arthur replied.

«That's why I didn't want to tell you! Now you feel like you're doing something wrong or not enough or whatever!»

«Well, that's because I do!»

«No, you're not!»

Arthur sighed. «Look, Merlin... You're not wrong, magic does make me nervous. For all my life, every time someone used it, it was with intention to hurt me.»

He stopped, thinking about his next words. «You are an exception. Yours feel safe.»

«Safe?»

«I don't know how to describe it. It feels warm and... safe. I like it. And I like watching you do magic, too.»

«Oh.»

«Yeah.»

«I'm sorry.»

Arthur smiled. «You can repent your crimes by stopping hiding your magic from me,» he said in playfully serious tone.

Merlin smirked. «Of corse, sire. What would you like to watch now?»

[iwacura]

going back to the big question on ch65—when shima is disappointed that what mitsumi likes about him is his "kind façade"—i find it such an interesting problem.

shima HAS put on the kind facade to get mitsumi to like him. but the thing is—that's just what you do when you have a crush !! you do nice things for that person to get them to like you !

shima seems completely incapable of differentiating when he's putting on a front, and when he's being genuinely kind. he picked up the people-pleasing habit as a child, and now he doesn't know when he does it as a reflex and when he genuinely wants to be nice to someone. he doesn't understand how his kindness towards mitsumi is any different.

what he doesn't realize though, is that he's been genuinely kind to her since the beginning.

accompanying her to the student council even if he wasn't going to join himself

going to starmax with her because she said she'd always wanted to go, and helping her to become friends with makoto.

taking her goals seriously and promising to support each other with their future aspirations (my fave scene forever and ever)

going to the zoo together and hoping she'll come to love tokyo !

and he's not only been kind to mitsumi, but to mika too. noticing when she was feeling insecure and acknowledging her great style. telling her to aim for top during the volleyball tournament, and in the process reassuring her that she doesn't need to hold back her ambitions or her strong character to be likeable. and many more—to many people around him.

at some point in the upcoming chapters, shima is gonna have to realize that "being kind to someone so they'll be kind back" isn't emotional manipulation—it's just what getting to know someone is like. plain and simple. he isn't sick n twisted and tricking his friends into liking him, they just happen to like him.

the fake kindness was a problem in the begging, when he genuinely used it as a facade and didn't express any of his actual feelings. or with many of his classmates, that—like I've talked about before—see him as a status symbol rather than a person. but with mitsumi and his friends, he's kind to them and they're kind right back.

shima's problem with his own kindness doesn't really stop there, though. the actual underlying problem is the sentiment that he isn't a good person. he sees himself as a manipulative monster (re: self-identification with frankestein's monster), so no affection coming from him could ever be well meaning.

however, if he stopped for a second he'd realize that his wishes to become a better person—"i want to be as emotionally brave as mitsumi", "i want be confident in my kindness", and "i want to encourage others more"—have more to so with....self-confidence than anything else (i say at the risk of sounding like a scamming life coach). he ought to accept he is good, too. not he "could be good", he is good. already.

and if skip and loafer is good at something, it's at making its characters change their perspectives on others. like in the first chapters makoto stopped thinking of yuzu as too popular to understand her, mika stopped feeling so jelous of the other girls or looking down at mitsumi, and shima stopped thinking of mitsumi as naive—or how ujie has recently stopped viewing shima as shallow—skip and loafer tells us new poeple are usually not as antagonistic as we initially think. maybe shima will apply that sentiment to himself soon. after all, when mitsumi says she's been saved by his kindness, it's because she has her reasons.

[champagnedstappen]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader. This is a simple Christmas blurb. ;)

Perhaps his skin becomes so much lighter is because the colour of snow. There's theory where someone's skin is usually getting more light if the background is also light and not dark. Maybe the theory also works on him. Because in your eyes, he looks more... How can you say it? Glowing mayhaps.

You look at him thoughtfully, when you thought this man couldn't be more fine, then he always proved it. Clearly this is one of his moments. He looks at you, abandoning his skiing pole on the ground full of snow. You're shivering, sure you're using many layers, but holy shit, you're not used to cold temperatures. Clearly will never be.

"Mon cœur... Are your still shivering?" He asks. You are about to scoff, not enjoying any questions from him while he asked it with hint of humour—the urge to laugh at you, you can see it on his eyes, you know him too well anyway.

As he try reaching you while walking, leaving his pole with his friends—having conversation about skiing you clearly don't understand about, you're kicking some of the snow on the ground. You should be enjoying the trip. Last year, Charles tried to get you on board on the trip, but failed at the attempt since you were so against the cold temperatures, knowing how bad you can be.

You snap jokingly, well you can't be mad at him nonetheless. "What do you think, Leclerc?" At that, he laughs and finally standing in front of you. Hands on your waist, creating some patterns you don't really pay attention to in this situation.

"My love, I'm not laughing. I'm fully concerned," he continues. Making his face to full acting, trying to look like he's not going to make fun of you. Yet his eyes are soft, looking at you like you're his favourite person to be with, like you're all that matter. Making you knees buckle.

It's your turn to laugh before sighing. "I don't know why you asked me to be part of the trip. I can't even do anything, I'm only slowing you and the guys."

His green eyes—which you've noticed since you first met looking straight at you. There's some frowns that you hate so much. During the season, you knew how much pressure he had. Ferrari battling for the World Constructor Championship added to his shoulder, making it a cherry on top, you'd say.

After Abu Dhabi, his mood worsened. Loosing the title to McLaren certainly made his mind wander over something not certain and useless in your perspective. He kept blaming himself, thinking all What-Ifs, if only he did this, if only he didn't, if only he was better.

You hate it. You think his frown and depressive stare are your biggest nemesis. Something that you wish Avengers could fight like when they fought against Thanos.

You remember those days where you couldn't attend the Grand Prix, having jobs you needed to be at, he called you after the free practice, qualifying, hours after race—especially after bad results, he tends to be alone after bad race, not wanting to throw some tantrums or putting his anger at you. It leaves some bad spots on your emotions, seeing him so sad and blaming himself adding your personal problems with the sports.

You just want this trip to be his healing list. You don't want to worsen his days by making his holiday worse than ever.

Yet he shrugs it off. "Baby, what are you taking about? I only agreed to this winter trip so we can have our time together. If you didn't agree, I wouldn't too. I'd rather stay at home, maybe doing something funny while decorating Christmas tree with you, ma chérie."

These are the moments where you are sure that before you meet him, you never understood the situation of love. Back in the days you only think that love was impossible for you. Because in your mind, you thought, what could be love from you? There's nothing special. You're just... You. You're no model, you're no extravaganza, you're... No special.

But then there's interesting Monégasque who does anything to make you feel loved. Who's every actions makes you like you're everything. Who's actions are calculated, proofing how he would do anything for you.

Just, maybe, if you are loved too after you met him.

He continues. "We can stay in any city that you want. Summer, winter, any season doesn't matter. And like other every cities than exist in this world, there is city in my heart where you are its only population."

"Oh, Charles Leclerc. You're a fucking simp. Now teach me."

Yes, this moment definitely on your 'He's the proof where I am loved too' list.

"و في قلبي مدينة كُل سُكانها أنتي.'

"And there is a city in my heart where you are its only population." By Mahmoud Darwish.

[runningoutofink8]

keeping up with the hawthornes morning meetings and friday fevers ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵

a/n: first ever ff published. this is an idea I had, originally meant for averyjameson, but I thought since it's my first fic, I would do it from lyra's pov, and switch it to a hawthorne fic, given that it would be easier to write. this is a hawthorne/hawthorne adjacent ff from lyra's perspective. obviously i'm new at this so this won't be great but let me know if you enjoy! happy reading x pairings: averyjameson, graysonlyra, libbynash, xandermax. wc: 1167 synopsis: avery denies being sick. libby stages an intervention. jameson gets involved. chaos, cookie dough theft, and croissant drama follow. classic hawthornes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"did you just put that coffee in the microwave?" lyra asked, in mild horror.

"yeah it was cold" max replied, looking at her as if she was being unreasonable. lyra stared at her. xander sipped his hot chocolate, watching intently, not fazed at max's beverage quirks.

"it's iced coffee." lyra deadpanned.

"yeah well not anymor- what the elf!" she yelled, as two figures whooshed past her.

"i swear, lib i'm not sick! god, what is your problem?" avery yelled, while still running. "if you're not sick, why the heck aren't you letting my check your temperature?" libby replied, sounding out of breath. "because there's no reason to, i'm not sick!" "so you are sick." "no, i just don't understand why you're so determined to-"

"stop." a country drawl sounded throughout the room. lyra turned her gaze to where nash was standing in the doorway, grayson on his side, eyebrow raised. he caught her gaze, from where she was on the kitchen counter, and sent her a questioning look. she shrugged because she genuinely had zero idea what was going on. avery and libby had both stopped where they were, avery with her back turned against a staircase, with libby facing her, back toward everyone else.

"what's happening?" xander asked helpfully.

"yeah i was wondering as well." lyra added. max just nodded eagerly.

avery rolled her eyes in exasperation and said "nothing."

libby complained to nash, "she's ill and won't admit it! she won't even let me take her temperature."

"if you're not sick, as you're claiming, why aren't you letting libby take your temperature?" grayson asked avery plainly. avery glared at him. abruptly, grayson smiled slightly, though avery didn't seem to notice, her body was still in the defensive stance, as if she was willing to run if anyone attempted to move toward her.

"because, obviously, your collective blatant distrust in me is downright offensive. after years of living together, you continue to doubt me and assume immediately that i would lie about something as trivial as feeling sick. i mean honestly…." lyra zoned out slightly and looked around to find the source of grayson's smile, her eyes travelling to where she saw jameson making his way down the staircase behind avery. she smirked as she saw nash silently signal something to him, to which he gave a nod. in true jameson hawthorne fashion, he reached the bottom of the staircase and swiftly wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her against him. avery started slightly but after a moment, sighed in exasperation, seemingly knowing there was no point in running anymore.

"what am i doing?" jameson asked libby, smiling slightly at the girl in his arms.

"check if she has a fever." libby smiled, thankful for the help. jameson frowned lightly.

"i thought you said you weren't sick." he reminded avery, his voice low.

"i'm not! libby's just being assumptious." she said back to jameson

"how am i assuming anything, when you look like you're about to collapse?" libby shot at her. lyra looked at avery. jameson pressed the back of his palm to her forehead, keeping his other hand firmly around her waist. to lyra, avery didn't look ill at all, or like she was about to collapse. just perhaps slightly tired. maybe avery wasn't lying?

jameson looked concerned now.

"you're burning up, ave." he told her softly, worried, his hand still pressed against her forehead, then moving to her cheek.

or maybe it was a sibling intuition and lyra should never be a detective.

"YOU LIAR!" libby yelled. nash and grayson watched in both slight concern and amusement. max whispered to lyra. "it's like watching a soap opera." lyra laughed. she felt grayson come to stand by her side, his arm around her shoulders, rolling his eyes at his brother and sisters-in-law. lyra smiled.

"well how am I supposed to know if i have a fever?" avery argued.

"BY LETTING ME CHECK FOR YOU." libby looked exasperated, very un-libby like.

"okay, okay. you, bed." jameson pointed at avery and gestured upstairs, amusement and concern evident on his face, his voice stern.

"i have meetings." she said, turning around to frown at jameson.

"heiress, you're sick. you're not risking your health for some random idiots who are un-organised enough to schedule meetings on friday morning, you're overworked as it is. you need rest." jameson's tone indicated that they had had this conversation numerous times.

"well, i have things to do love, i can't just drop everything-"

"i can take your work for the day avery, you should take the day off." grayson told her. lyra looked down at the counter and smiled at his thoughfulness.

"gray, i can't do that to you, you have just as much stuff to do today as i do we can't-"

"then he can delegate. you need rest avery, you can't go on like this without taking days off." jameson said firmly, his thumb tracing her jaw. they looked at each other for a moment, something unspoken passing between them.

"fine. fine! god i'll take today off. but only today, okay?" avery sighed in defeat.

"done." he stated. libby smiled at him, avery clearly had forgotten tomorrow was the weekend.

"fine." avery rolled her eyes.

"good." he smirked. grayson looked at lyra and they shared a smile. lyra thought it was endearing how much jameson cared about avery, no matter who was watching. after avery went upstairs, libby made her way to the other side of the kitchen.

"well, now that that's all finally settled, thank god, does anyone know where my cookie dough from yesterday went?" she asked, opening the fridge and looking through it. xanders eyes widened almost comically as he mumbled an uncomprehensible response and left the room hastily. libby smiled and rolled her eyes. lyra was too busy laughing to notice grayson swiping her croissant off her plate, until it was too late.

"oi!" lyra yelled at him.

"you have 4 other croissants on your plate lyra."

"so? what are you insinuating?"

"i'm insinuating that I have a busy schedule today, and that if you can't sacrifice one croissant for my efforts, we may have to rethink this whole relationship."

"our relationship?"

"no, your relationship with those croissants."

"don't judge my relationship!"

"speaking of schedules, gray, you will delegate avery's work, right? that alone is too much for one person." jameson asked, his back to everyone, as he made a sandwhich for avery. lyra smiled at jameson's obvious concern for his brother. no matter how much he tried to hide it. jameson glanced at grayson and grayson nodded.

"promise?" lyra asked.

"promise." grayson replied, his eyes still on his brother. who shot him a smirk and turned back around carelessly, although lyra noticed some of the tension leave jameson's shoulders.

nash, who had been silently watching this whole exchange, smiled and shared a knowing look with lyra.

they all had so much pride and yet were secretly concerned about each others wellbeing.

god, how she loved them.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

a/n : i feel like lyra's perspective is so much easier to write than anyone elses. i originally wasn't going to publish any works but i thought i'd give it a go (i don't love this one but it's alright lmao) and see what people think. i hope you enjoyed!

xx mira

[affableramen]

Arranged marriage!Pantalone x reader Ch. 1

no smut wedding night angst+comfort (in some ways)

there’s one suggestive joke pantalone makes in the end but the fic itself remains completely sfw pantalone is not 375 y.o. here

note: one person said that she gets strong virgin vibes from Pantalone, so… you get what you asked for xD

Genshin impact masterlist

divider by @anitalenia

Ch. 1

“What will you give me as a collateral?”

The clinking sound of mugs filled the room. There was intense scent of black tea in his private office, though, the lingering smell of cigarettes was much stronger and obvious than the hot drink.

Two men were sharing somewhat a tea ceremony, one that was taller and rather emaciated had his clothes indicate he’s not at all poor. He held his cup of tea in a relaxed but dry manner, his expression didn't really express anything but contempt and his overall look screamed big ego. The other man, shorter and less sophisticatedly dressed who was sitting in front of him, held his cup with a trembling hand. As soon as the first man noticed the hint of anxiety in his motions, he placed his other hand on top to provide support.

“My lord—”, his voice was no less trembling than his hands.

“My lord!” The richer man parodied him. “Seriously, get a grip of yourself”, he took a sip of his tea, sighed, pleased with the taste, and put the mug back on the small plate. There was no behaviour more rude and cold than his current. As if the person were not sensible at all, he could only sadistically smile, addicted to the sense of power in his grasp. “I shall ask once again—what will you provide me with as a collateral?”

The man abandoned his tea and leaned forward hastily to grasp the richer man’s blazer in his calloused old hands. 

“I used to be wealthy—just like you sir—please have mercy on me! We are very much alike! Don’t swallow me and my family—oh, I beg of you!”

It took a few seconds for the magnate to process the unwanted physical contact that he used to receive from his customers or debtors frequently, especially when they were borderline begging him. “Get your hands off me!” 

Magnate’s aura was extremely condescending, if not disgusting, but the debtor knew he had to be obedient and less repulsive in order to get what he wanted. 

“You’re not easy to please, Mr. Pantalone”, he stepped back and ruffled his hair, clueless what he should do. 

“That I am.”

The audacity he had should have been quite natural for the man of rich fortune however from the customer’s perspective it looked like the problem was not entirely in his wealth but rather something inside this man, something he was made of that made you feel shivers run down your spine. He had such aura that could be described not only frightening but exhausting too. The poor, defensless man had become so desperate that he started pitying himself, although he knew that the banker evidently felt the same for him. It was horrible! He never felt so looked down on in his life ever. But that man did not leave him a chance, he was relentless and cruel. Oh, how cruel he was - to drive a poor father to such despicable crimes!

“I might have something—someone—as a collateral.”

Pantalone’s lips from had shifted from the sullen thin line into an eerie smirk. The poor man had already made his choice, alas, he couldn't avoid the contract now! But was it right? Was it all right to give his eldest daughter… to this man?

“This man! What is he like—I hope he doesn't beat ladies?”

You roll your eyes at the back of your head and let out a groan.

“I don’t know, little one, guess we’ll have to learn that won’t we?” You touch the cold marble of your bed table, the two of you sitting on your big, king-sized bed in the room for guests. The room looks not less than one assorted for a princess. You continue with a softer tone, sharing your sister’s worries.

“I only met him once. I couldn't even see his face properly - he gave me a short, rather dissatisfied stare and ran out of the room, the heels of his court shoes were louder than the words he uttered.”

“He doesn't sound like he’s interested at all in his marriage, Y/N…” 

“Well, he better not be—as I’m never going to fall for him! I hate rich people!”

“But we are rich people, Y/N. Are we not?”

You comb your sister’s hair, putting some of the flowers, dead flowers, into the braids of her hair.

“We were. Now we’re just like everyone else—average if not less—and we’re going to be looked down upon. You have to remember that.”

There is a sigh that escapes from your lips as you run your hands through the ‘gifts to the bride’: various jewellery items and other marvellous accessories which have not yet grabbed your attention for some reason, as the bigger underlying problem is occupying your mind.

“This man won't go easy on us, we’re just ants for him.”

The dress sits tightly but rather conveniently on you. At least they got something right - your body measurements. Your check yourself, the feeling of fabrics convinces you of their high quality, though it does not make you feel any less anxious. Your sister shouldn't know of your worries and how your heart shrinks at the thought your wedding in a half an hour. And the thought of the wedding night, which is more dreadful than anything else. But you can't let her know it, it’s still a child, she must not lose hope, otherwise there will be two depressed daughters in the family which is not exactly your dream plan.

“His mansion is rather big, isn't it?” you ask unexpectedly, staring at the window. So many people have gathered already, as if the whole city wants to watch your wedding, or, rather, your embarrassment. You think back: you could escape this outcome and run from your house as soon as you heard what your father did, but you did not. Perhaps you didn't want? You feel confused with yourself. It must be the natural desire to help your family that has made you stay and witness yourself being scooped by the unexpected wedding circumstances.

“Big…and cold”, she adds. 

“Well that’s because you’re not wearing a scarf, my darling. We’re in Snezhnaya, it never has warmth in it. Will you wear a scarf when we’re outside? Promise me.”

The stubborn child wastes a few moments thinking before she rolls her eyes (just like you did before) and utters not eagerly:

“I promise, I will put on a scarf.”

You boop her nose gently and turn around to see your cousin enter the room. He is not the most sociable person, in fact he’s rather shy, that’s why upon seeing you in your wedding dress he only whispers:

“Nice.”

“Why, thank you. I didn't expect you to visit me—I mean, not that I am unhappy.”

“I just thought…” he stands there not making an attempt to step closer. He is always like this - and he never gives out hugs. “That you might need some support.” 

“Thank you, really, I appreciate it, especially from you who is not exactly extraverted.”

Your cousin clenches and unclenches his hand a couple of times apart from biting his lips with obvious nervousness. It seems he’s not sure at all what to say as he has never before express his affection, hardly to his mother, by the way.

“I just wanted you to know, if that man—I mean, your future husband—hurts you in some way—you can rely on me. I..I will protect you.”

His voice appears to be slightly trembling but he finishes his sentence, filled with sincerity, successfully. You and your sister are both stunned for a couple of seconds before you finally manage to thank him once again.

“Well, if he does, I will not hesitate to grab a frying pan and smack him properly.”

Your little sister encourages you with a burst of giggle. The cousin gives out a soft smile and shares a few moments united with family. Not long after he nods to you briefly and leaves you to prepare for a few last minutes.

“Y/N, are we going to live together? All in this big mansion?”

“I don’t know, honey. That is if he decides so.”

The wedding ceremony starts and the day remains unapologetically cold. You mentally thank the tailors for providing you with a fur outerwear on top of your wedding dress, otherwise you would simply turn into an icicle yourself. When you start walking towards the altar you pray to the archons that you won’t twist your feet. You are not wearing the highest of heels, but if there was one person who’d argue that it was not a hassle to walk over the ice in the heeled shoes… well, they’d be a fool. 

You pictured him in your head many times, especially given the slight knowledge of his features that you memorised from your first meeting. But they are not enough, of course. What could you possibly comprehend about a man you saw only poor thirty seconds of your life? What was his core, his dreams? Does he beat women? - as your sister inquired. There was nothing. And your parents did not seem to be eager sharing a bunch of words on him. There was no praise, but no criticism whatsoever. What was he? What does he hide from the world? And why, by the name of Tsaritsa did he evn agree to this arranged marriage at all? Is he even worthy of—

He.

Is extremely handsome and radiates pure self righteous aura. Wavy blue-black locks neatly combed and styled into a middle parting, a bow on his little ponytail swung languidly on his shoulder. One streak of hair grey, either for style purposes or age - you couldn't know. He wears eyeglasses, the occassional sun light gleams on the glass, hiding his eyes. 

You step closer and closer to the altar before the both of you are just as supposed to be. Your eyes meet and you ought to judge him for his acceptance of such hideous collateral, but his whole appearance prevents you from being aggressive, at least right now.

“We’ve never been acquainted properly”, you say, but the words appear slightly softer than expected, almost as if you are being polite with him. No, that sucks, that’s not what you wanted.

“It was for the good of our further relationship. I would dislike unnecessary drama”, he responds, his lips periodically moving from your face to your wedding dress before he turns to the crows and listens to the priest’s speech.

His answer confuses you. “Some things are better left unsaid”, you think. Given the closeness you two share right now, you get a proper understanding of his appearance - the man looks not younger than five-and-thirty, yet there is hardly a single wrinkle on his face. There are, however, dark circles under his eyes, signalling that his sleeping schedule might not be the best. It’s also not difficult to guess that he is an office worker and, to your opinion, a very polished one. His looks are refined, distinguished and so far he seems very well-mannered, knowing the process of wedding all too well. It’s a good sign, after all, it feels much easier to go through this process with someone experienced and not shaking unlike yourself.

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honour each other for as long as you both shall live?" The priest asks.

You get the familiar feeling of your heart shrinking and you cannot stop yourself from being overwhelmed with thoughts rushing into your head, begging you to say ‘no’, but you do not really have a choice anymore. You could have escaped, earlier, but now? No, you should proceed to this path. There is nothing you won’t handle, even if it is an arranged marriage to the richest man in the world.

“Okay—I mean—yes, of course. I do. I am.”

“And so do I”, the rich man responds.

His cologne is subtle and not irritating which cannot help but revoke some of your stress. But once you get a grasp of yourself, pulling out of your thoughts, you realise that the lot is staring at you.

The man beside you clears his throat.

“Put the ring onto my finger”, he says gently, and he does not need to repeat that as you take the ring in your sweaty hands, feeling so lightheaded that you fear you might collapse just here and now. Your groom senses your anxiety, it is evident in his eyes, but for some reason he only stares at you, not rushing you into the action, instead carefully waiting for you to do as supposed.

You take his hand in yours and start slowly pushing the ring. Finally you manage, but upon letting his hand loose you notice how, despite of him escaping the age signs on his face, he has incredibly dry hands. You take a notice of it even firmer when he puts the ring on your finger after. Though, you are not given much time to comtemplate your observation when the most important question is raised:

“Exchange the kiss that will confirm your bond.”

You feel like fainting, but before you do, he raises your chin and delivers a kiss to your lips. The touch so brief, it was but a peck — nothing more, nothing less. And so, the bond becomes official.

You’re led by his staff to wait in the bedroom. Strangely, there is no maids here, but a butler - a considerable old, but wise-looking man from whom you get no ill vibes at all. He politely asks you to wait in your husband’s bedroom, apologising from on behalf of his master that he has some finishing business to attend. You walk to the bed and caress the silky sheets with your hand. And there you are, in his bedroom, waiting for your wedding night, but Pantalone is still not here. You try to reassure yourself, a weak attempt to negotiate it all inside you, to convince you that nothing bad will happen. It’s just marital activities - all newlyweds have to perform it. But the fact that you’re just given to him as a part of the contract stings somewhere deep in your soul.

It’s not really a long wait when the man finally enters the room, the doors swung wide open and he shuts them gently. He turns his head to look at you, you exchange glances before he removes his thin, frail-looking hands from the door and walks up to the bed very, very slowly. You immediately rise and rush to him, though your feet feel like they’re glued to the carpets. You stop in front of him, the white wine stain still on his shirt. Luckily it is not as visible as if it would be, were it for the red wine, you think.

“I’m once again sorry. My hand slipped, I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of everyone. Let me—” you do what an obedient wife should do, gripping the edges of his shirt and attempting to relieve him of it. But once your finger touches the first button, he catches your hand and slowly but assertively pushes it back.

“I’d rather you not.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not touch me.”

“Oh—I though we—”

“You don't say.”

Your hand is frozen in place and you wait until Pantalone says something. What is the meaning of this? Is this some sort of his mind game? This damn businessman, for archon’s sake, he’s perfectly shady and possibly one hell of a manipulator.

“They are not going to live here”, he suddenly says, breaking the tense silence.

“What?”

“The question you asked before.” 

“Ah, right…” It’s the question you discussed with your little sister. How did he evem learn about it? 

Your expression falters. You would rather prefer you all together in one place, but perhaps… perhaps it was for the best. Pantalone turns away, he starts rummaging in his wardrobe in search of something but still conscious of your questions.

“But they will be welcomed guests, right?”

He stops in his tracks, pulling something from the wardrobe and closing it tightly. 

“Any time.”

Pantalone places a wrapped gift onto the bed, seems to be neatly wrapped clothes. Right, your wedding night…

“So we won’t…” you lower your voice, and then your eyebrows raise in confusion but it was for a good reason. What a relief. 

“Spend the night? No, there won’t be anything like that. It’s just that we’re going to share this bed for one night until your family is perfectly convinced that we consummated.”

“But—what are we going to do then?”

“Sleep. Change (into your silk night robe I gave you) and don't ask me questions”, he walks to the further part of the room, his hand clenching around the handle. “I’ll be changing in the bathroom. Let me know when you’re finished dressing and I may come out.” He disappears in the bathroom with the soft click.

Really?!

You look at the wrapped gift: it’s not a lace lingerie, not even a seductive set of nightwear - it’s a dark burgundy night robe, perfectly covered and silky. You start easing yourself of the wedding dress - thank Archons yours was not of complicated designs, it was rather simply-looking, but obviously made of luxurious fabric, tailored privately for your body only.

Strange, but he has no maids in the mansion. Otherwise you’d be already served and helped.

After some suffering you manage to escape the wedding dress and put it neatly onto the chair. The gems sewn onto the dress were still shimmering with cold, moonlight-like twinkles.

“May I come out?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

The man slowly opens the door, he himself wearing a tightly wrapped black night robe and a pair of trousers, his clothes showing not at inch of his skin except for the small area down his neck. But even witnessing him covered so properly, you cannot deny that his physique is rather bony.

“You have been sweating”, he walks up to the windowsill where a tall glass bottle is stood, and fills a cup with it.

“Sorry?” He offers you the cup before you can get even more confused.

“At the altar. I suspect you might be dehydrated.”

“Oh, I was nervous.”

“It’s a natural response to stress. Drink this.” You waver, and seeing your reluctant self Pantalone sighs with clear dissatisfaction. “It’s just water, not poison.”

You nod to him and gulp it all in one go. Yes, you were clearly dehydrated…

“Are you afraid?”

“Not of you, but of the consequence”, trying to make the conversation up you switch to another topic artlessly. “Why don’t you have female staff?”

Pantalone seems a bit sensitive to your question at first but he covers it pretty well, putting on a solemn smile.

“I have a cook who is a woman.”

“Thank God”, you say and immediately mentally scold yourself. Perhaps it’s the alcohol talking in you, loosing up you tongue and… senses. “I didn’t mean—”

“You seem relieved, or reassured, so I don't mind.”

The empty glass is soon rejected and you face the bed, contemplating. He did say he wants your family to believe the two of you had performed marital duties, which gives you an itchy feeling.

“There were so many people during our ceremony. I thought it was supposed to be humble.”

“They were fangirls. I wish it were humble, though, I am lacking the blessing of such desirable peacefulness.” 

“Do women… often act like this in front of you?”

He responds subtly, but his answer is enough to make you an understanding.

“I wouldn't say it’s not uncommon.”

“I don't know if I should feel sorry or happy for you.”

“Oh yes, women throwing themselves at me, it must be such a terrible life”, the corner of his lip twitches in a strange way.

At last the both of you sit on the bed. Pantalone takes his place on the edge of the bed, almost at its tail, as if making a futile attempt to not be a source of your distress. 

“When you said ‘until your family is perfectly convinced we consummated’, could you enlighten me what you meant by that phrase?”

His response to you is brief and dry.

“Your mother was most worried about me producing children with you. Her, and your father have two children, so she expressed to me her earnest concern for you to have heir with me. She is a smart woman and knowing that I do not come from an elite background myself she had not a single qualm to ask of me such audacious thing.”

“And… what did you say?”

Isn’t it laughable? Her daughter has just been given to an unknown man (well, actually a very famous man of high standing, but you do not know anything about him!) and instead of worrying wildly over your wellbeing in relationship with this man, she pushes him into consummation? At that moment you did not know if you harbour more disrespect and disappointment to your dad or mom. 

“I said that she does not have a single reason to worry.”

“But how will anyone know that me and you slept together if technically we did not? Did not you say you wish me not to touch you?”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Your mother shall be convinced for now, and then… Well, I cannot speak for the future”, Pantalone leans closer, but not in a predatory way, in fact you feel like he eyes everything around you, except for you. 

“Grab the headboard.”

“What?”

“Grip. The. Headboard.” 

You submit to his harsh demand and do as he says. What the hell is he trying to make you do?

“Now shake it like you mean it.”

You shake it, and the wood makes a… suggestive sound.

Pantalone nods, his voice gets quieter, much quieter.

“Good. That will do it. Now, let me try something…”

The man grips the tail of the bed and with a sudden tug the bed moves in place, making the same creaking noise that you just pulled out from it. Your eyes widen. Oh my god, so that’s what he’s trying to do. He wants your parents, who are staying the night, to be aware of—

“Your mother expects me to properly court you, and the marital activities are of course a part of it. Now, please shake it a few times more.”

You do that, but mentally you lack the focus on the wood shaking in your arms. You think about something else. The mysteries take a toll on you.

“You’re not going to actually make children with me, I presume?”

Pantalone stops his act, his hand clenching the wooden tails. There is something about his look that speaks of innocence, though it’s not exactly on the nose.

“No… I’m not interested”, he stops your hand, with unknown tenderness in his touch. “Oh dear, don’t shake it so violently - they might think I’m being rough with you.”

“Right, sorry.” You shake the headboard, lightweightly. Wait, do people even talk during such activities? You doubt it. But Pantalone speaks quietly, almost whispering to you things, so you pray the two of you won’t be heard blabbering.

“I think they’ve heard enough. We should stop.”

“Hm. That should suffice.”

The performance turns out to be full of fun and upon finishing it you realise how your worries have gone away. You almost feel at ease, and to think that the two of you did not partake in consummation but instead played a little game is almost endearing… almost…

“Fine”, you pull yourself away from dreaming. Your voice a bit firmer than usual, and Pantalone’s attention is grabbed instantly. “Honestly, I’m tired. And I assume, we can't leave our bedroom tonight? Even for a cup of tea?”

“Can’t risk being spotted. Do you have any problem?”

“No… May I use the toilet?”

“To your left.”

“Thank you.”

Just when you leave the bed you feel a soft yawn and request following:

“But please, make it quick. I want to sleep too.”

You return soon, just as he kindly asked you to, and find yourself reluctant to join him in the bed. You don't even know him well, how could you just slip under the same blanket with him?

Pantalone senses your worries almost immediately, and you become even more flustered upon realisation how evident your fear is. But keeping in mind that the man has not touched you except for the ceremony, you let out a long pent up breath and pull the cover to tuck yourself in. The bed part was quite fun from your perspective.

“I’m a very light sleeper. Please, try to not kick me with those long legs.”

“I will behave.”

Pantalone sighs too, he pulls a cover a bit to his side and faces you with his back. Rude or just cautious?

“You don’t seem to be a very sociable person.”

“I find social interaction rather tedious.”

That said a person who was so effortlessly easy-going in public! Or maybe it was simply just a façade that you failed to wrap your head around.

“I thought differently. The way you carried yourself in public… I thought you were wholeheartedly enjoying those interactions.”

“They are but a part of my job. I am a businessman, I have to be able to, basically, talk.”

“I wouldn't dare to doubt you in this aspect.”

“Thank you.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Make it quick.”

“If you do not use me for… heir…. then what do you need me for, I wonder?”

After this tingling question is raised, Pantalone takes a long moment to think. You even suspect he considers you too audacious and unworthy to ask that, but instead he just responds in his usual dry manner:

“I might have my reasons, but that’s enough information for you today. I don't wish to overwhelm you. Sleep tight.”

“Good night, Pantalone.”

“Good night.”

You now face your back to him. Well, all’s settled, whatever tomorrow brings you got to survive it. The worst has happened, there are only a few shallow uncertainties left. 

[shun-nie]

Hii!! If you dont mind writing something dark. Can you write satosugu with reader who often gone because she is sort of depressive and just want to run away. Reader is cool and collected in outside but never really expressed anything about herself. Thank youu in advanced

SatoSugu x reader

->You're a grade 1 sorcerer, and literally bestfriends with everyone. The problem is, you never smile. Nah, that's not your thing. But you can understand everyone, and look from their perspective before comforting them. You're a close friend of theirs, but how come they don't know anything about you??

Warnings!!!! Dark themes, gn!reader, mentions of suicide and death, swearing!!!!

"Man, where is Y/N? It gets boring when they're not around." Satoru sighed and pouted, not liking the silence in the room.

"That's for you to ask and nobody to know." Shoko replied with a bored tone, she was used to you disappearing out of nowhere. Now, don't get her wrong. She is worried about you, and she actually tried to search for you one time, but couldn't find you even if she was looked around for 3 hours.

Suguru was looking at the floor with an unreadable expression, the trio was just sitting around and doing nothing other than joking around with eachother. But Suguru felt off, one month ago, as everyone was hanging out together, Haibara said he never saw you smile. You just shrugged and told them "There's nothin' funny.", then Satoru and Haibara teamed up to make you smile, making dumb expressions and making Nanami sigh out of disappointment. ((It didn't make you smile at all.))

Suguru started to notice; how you would look out of window deep in thought, how you would disappear after the missions, how you would stare with an unreadable gaze when Suguru and Satoru laughed at their own jokes. Suguru opened up about this to Satoru, and he said he saw you sitting with your head down with fists clenched once. Now, Suguru was a smart man, he could connect the dots but he couldn't understand you. Not when he doesn't even know when your birthday is—

Wait.

"Do you guys know Y/N's birthday?" Suguru suddenly asked, Satoru and Shoko shared a look before opening their mouths to reply—

Wait, did you ever mentioned your birth date?

"...I..don't.." Shoko felt ashamed, beacuse you knew everything about her. How she liked her coffee, which foods she prefered, the clothes she liked to wear, the movies she liked to watch..and she doesn't even know your birthday? Satoru was wearing a similar expression, he actually opened up to you about his problems. How everyone was expecting him to be the best, how he felt too much pressure on his shoulders, how people didn't see him as Satoru but as Gojo. You comforted him, you put yourself in his place and both of you talked shit about higher-ups for the next hours. Then you turned to him and said :

"People sucks, the only thing they know is how to talk. You could feel like you're the only one and nobody is there for you, but you're not alone Satoru."

Oh how great he felt after you said those words, he noticed you were actually very good at empathizing. Probably the only thing he knows about you besides your name and age.

"I can't believe after all these years, the only thing we know about them is that their name and age." Satoru said, looking at the ceiling. Suguru sighed and texted you for the 28th time, you didn't respond, you never did.

"I think we need to confront them about it, maybe there is something going on that they can't bring themselfs to tell us." Suguru said, looking up from his phone to see his friends. Shoko sighed and shook her head.

"Maybe If you two are the ones confront them, I think they're closer to the both of you than us." Shoko said, lighting up a cigarette. Suguru and Satoru shared a look before nodding, they were going to talk about this when they had the chance.

.

.

.

"Where were you yesterday? We called you like, 40 times?" Satoru frowned, slightly glaring at you as he poked your cheek. Suguru nodded, wanting to hear your excuse too.

"My phone was on silent, I didn't really notice it." you said, clearly avoiding the real question. They both frowned, the three of you were sitting at a table, eating some snacks that you paid for. You came back after disappearing for 10 hours and they took the chance to talk about your problems, but there was an issue, you refused to tell them anything about yourself.

"And? Where were you when you were not at school? We even searched for you." Suguru said, watching as you sighed and took a sip of your cold water. You were clearly thinking of a way out of here.

"Does it really matter? Why are you asking me questions anyway, I thought this was a date and not an interrogation." you said, trying to cover yourself with a flirty sentence. To your surprise, it didn't work this time.

"Tell us the truth or I'm really going to use my cursed technique on your liar ass." Satoru said and rolled his eyes, you never saw him this serious. Ugh, these questions are really overwhelming you.

"..."

"Why the fuck do you want to know about me? It's really starting to get annoying."

They both stared at you with a 'don't give us that shit right now' stare, you groaned and looked at the ceiling. Thinking if you really should tell them, you really don't like to talk about yourself, and about your own problems? Ah, hell no. You don't want to open up to anyone until the day you die.

"After I use my cursed technique, well, it hurts me both physically and mentally I guess. I don't want to show that side of me to you guys so I just...hide. Where I go is none of your business." Their eyes widened, so that's why you always disappear after missions? Suguru was in deep thought, so that's why you didn't want to fight curses if not necessary. And why you always had a painkiller in your pocket. This was bad, why didn't they notice you were hurting? Were they that blind?

"Then why are you a jujutsu sorcerer you dumb fuck? You—You're an important friend to everyone in that damned place! What if you die beacuse of it, huh?!" Satoru shouted, he really wanted to punch you in the face so you would realize that—

"Do I look like I wanna continue living?" you asked, looking away from them. Fuck, you were not supposed to say that. Now they'll blame themselves beacuse they didn't notice it earlier or some shit like that.((they were actually blaming themselves))

"..."

There was a silence at the table for the next 2 minutes, both Suguru and Satoru looking at you with shock. Suguru wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. How could they help you in any way? You clearly didn't want to talk about it any more than it is. Satoru was having a hard time understanding what you meant, you always pushed people to not give up and talk about their problems beacuse 'It would hurt more if you bottled it up.'((your words, not his.)) So how come you made them fight for their life when you already gave up your own? Why did you lie?

"Idiot. You're a total idiot." Satoru said quietly then raised his hand and smacked your head, you were actually surprised, just as you raised your head to tell him to fuck off Suguru smacked your head too.

"What the-"

"And you still have the audacity to face us? Shit head." Satoru rolled his eyes and hugged you, his hold on you very tight. Suguru held your hand and squeezed it to give you comfort.

"You were there anytime we needed you, so let us do the same alright?" Suguru said as Satoru let go of you, you noticed his eyes were a bit teary. Suguru was smiling but you could tell he was sad you didn't told them anything. What was this? Were you actually feeling loved? Nah, that was not your thing. Then what was this warm feeling in your chest? Damn it, why did you felt like crying?

To both Suguru and Satoru's surprise, you laughed. You had a nice laugh, they thought.

"You both are—really making me feel fuzzy and soft." You smiled and hugged them both, Suguru chuckled and hugged you back as Satoru felt nice you ruffled his hair while you hugged him.

Everything was good for now.

.

.

.

((I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO POST😭😭😭))

[saturnicos]

Hi! Can you make a Hazbin Hotel Headcanons of how the characters would comfort a reader who is having a panic attack.

Yeah! Ironically, I had a pre-episode panic attack during a class today, writing this helped me avoid a meltdown.

Of course, if you wanted into a different perspective (or other characters, since I don't write many at once), feel free to tell me :)

HH cast comforting !reader having a panic attack

With: Charlie, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust

Context: Panic attack can happen any time, without any motivation. Unfortunately, that's hits you more often than you would like. In a middle of a conversation with them, you start to feel anxious and afraid, eyes widening and an immense desire to cry appearing. How would them comfort you?

. Charlie

— Oh! And I created a new plan that I would lik.. — Charlie interrupts herself as soon as she sees his eyes roaming the room, your leg shaking while the sound of your heartbeat was heard loud enough.

She knows that happens with some frequency and often is ready when happen. Actually, she's a bit imperative and has its moments of generalized anxiety; although it's not the same thing, it has a basis of what she can or cannot do to help you.

— Honey, look at me, please — She ask to you, holding your hand and looking at your eyes with a serious expression in her face. — It's ok, you'll be fine, you're safe with me. Now, breathe in and out with me.

She starts as an example, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing the air through her mouth. Despite your mind clouded with fear and derealization, your eyes locked onto hers, unconsciously repeating what exercise she replicates, feeling your breathing regularize slowly, despite the tremor and fear continuing.

She smile at you, holding your hand with a little more strength and delicacy. She moves forward with her free arm at her side, asking for permission for a hug. You, without hesitation, allow it, approaching her and hugging her tightly, feeling her face resting above your head, allowing you to cry into her coat if you felt like you needed to.

— Don't forget to breath, it'll calm yourself. I'm here for you.

. Lucifer

He knows what gonna happen even before you. This man faces various emotional and psychological problems daily, he recognizes very well when someone seems to have a tendency to have a crisis. Especially coming from you.

The first thing he notices is your hand starting to shake and your eyes threatening to water. He's quick to cup your face with both hands, making sure you're looking and listening to him.

— Sweetie, hear me. — He asks in a gently voice, making sure not to get too close to you for fear that this would only trigger a sudden worsening of the attack. — Calm down, I'm with you, there's anything here that can hurt you.

Even with his supportive phrases, your tremor only got worse as your blood pressure only tended to drop, slowly obscuring your vision and slowing down your breathing.

— Here — His voice echoed in your mind, as if partially clearing the intrusive and distressing thoughts. An angelic voice. — Can you tell me five things in this room, please?

You didn't know from where this come, but tried to see something even with a bad vision. And you did it. Then he asked for four things that you could touch. After three that you could hear, after...

When you came to, out of the derealization, you noticed the tactic that he used to calm you down: 5-4-3-2-1, a way to distract the mind of fear to understand what was around you, consequently making you come to your senses when you noticed the space.

He also noticed as your breathing returned to normal and your body gradually shook less and less, smiling at you tenderly.

. Adam

He's a bitch. A fucking bitch.

At first, when he sees your eyes watering in the middle of the conversation he will think that some comment or joke of his got to you, and sincerely? He'd probably find it funny that you're bothered by this at this point.

— What's up, bitch? That wasn't even that aggressive — He responded in a mocking voice, leaning across the table toward you. His tone of voice was filled with a visible desire to laugh.

However, when he noticed that you ignored his comment and were shaking unnaturally, the expression on his mask changed to one that alternated between doubt and amazement.

The mask's mouth constantly opened and closed, as if he were interrupting whenever he thought about commenting on something.

— Fuck — He sighed heavily as he let out an audible curse, getting up from his seat and heading towards him, but stopped next to you when he noticed that he was a piece of shit with emotional comfort, especially with words of affirmation.

With an expression of uncertain, he took off his terminator mask and threw it on the table, looking at the office door, confirming that there was no one there that could burst into the room.

He then crouched down next to you, watching you cover your face with hands shaking, stifling a sob. Not really sure what do, he brought his hand to your back, patting it friendly as a strange way of showing support, since 1. he didn't know how to verbalize it and 2. he couldn't do it. But deep down he would like to try and provide some kind of support.

— I have no fucking idea how to help you, but... You know, if you need a shoulder, you've got me.

. Angel Dust

He knows what it's like to have an emotional breakdown and derealization, after all, it is something that constantly impacts him almost always after the work.

Despite the solution he always seeks for himself be the use of medication and perhaps a little alcohol, he would never make that an option for you since he doesn't want to inflict drug use on you. Health reason.

— Baby, is a hug okay? — he asks you in a compassionate tone, bowing his head slightly to the side as he raised his left hand to rest it on your shoulder.

When you nod, he wraps you in a hug with all four of his arms. A comfortable but not strong hug, allowing you to leave if you wish.

— You need to stabilize your heart rate, you know? Do what I do — He then took a deep breath for a few seconds and then let it out, repeating the process two more times before encouraging you to try.

You snuggled into your spot on the couch trying to control the shaking and tears as you repeated breathing exercise with difficulty. At first it was painful and burned your lungs, but Angel advised you to try again as soon as you felt like you could try.

— I don't have work today, how about a movie? I promise it won't be any of my big movies, your choice. — He laughed quietly, trying to lighten the sad mood with a light dirty joke as he picked up the controller. When he could hear a low chuckle from you, his smile grew.

. Alastor

He literally has no idea what happened to you. Alastor died before psychology studies were taken seriously, and particularly he was never someone very social or interpersonal, then see you having a mental imbalance suddenly was ridiculously weird.

He just stood there looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, trying to find some logic behind your attitude so that he could do something about it.

After a given moment thinking, in a snap of his fingers he manifested a tea set in the center table in the room. However, the withering smell of coffee took its place when he took one of the cups for himself and offered another one for you - one that smelled like valerian, a plant that helped with irregular heartbeat.

He looked at you as he sipped his own cup of black coffee with legs crossed, as if waiting for you to go ahead and drink the tea.

You then gave in and drank, pouring a few drops into your lap due to tremor. The tea actually wasn't that bad. As soon as he passed by your throat, the effect seemed to have already begun, gradually relaxing your muscles and calming your fear.

Along with the feeling of relaxation, an aroma of oils penetrated the room, making a combination in the air of more diverse aromas and smells in a pleasant mix.

By your side, Alastor beamed a satisfied smile as he helped himself to more coffee, talking to you again, occasionally asking if you wanted more tea or if you felt okay.

I love sm write comfort, but thinking about the angst before is painfully sad//

Thank you for read, have a good day or a good night :)

[innocuousghost]

Since the article about Neil Gaiman I've seen a lot of people reassessing their relationship with Terry Pratchett. Which to a certain extent does make sense: they were co-authors and as a part of his cult of personality Neil Gaiman frequently presented himself as The Guy Who Knew Terry Pratchett. So in the public consciousness their legacies seem very intertwined.

So I can understand the pivot to asking about Terry Pratchett.

But a lot of what I've seen strikes me as being paranoid and conspiratorial in a way that I do not think is healthy or particularly useful. ("Did he know? Did he not know? Was Neil Gaiman overstating their friendship? Why did Terry Pratchett really have his hard drive destroyed?")

Now, I never met Terry Pratchett. But for my money? It seems pretty likely that he didn't know what was going on. The article itself states that most of Neil Gaiman's living friends didn't know what was going on: "But in my conversations with Gaiman’s old friends, collaborators, and peers, nearly all of them told me that they never imagined that Gaiman’s affairs could have been anything but enthusiastically consensual." And throughout most of the timeline of assaults the article covers Terry Pratchett was largely either in the late stages of dimentia on another continent or dead.

Though obviously we can't say for sure he didn't know something. (Even if he genuinely didn't know it's not like he would have turned to Rihanna Pratchett and said "Just in case anybody ever asks I want it on the record that to my knowledge Neil Gaiman is not and never has been a serial rapist.")

But ultimately. That's not actually the core issue that's keeping people awake at night I don't think. I think it's "How do I continue being fans of creatives knowing that some of them are secretly capable of legitimate evil without me ever being made aware of it?"

There is a pretty loud and unpleasant contingent on the internet whose solution to that problem seems to be "You can't. The only way to eschew blind celebrity worship is to live your life every second assuming in the back of your mind that every creative living or dead could be revealed to be a serial rapist at any moment. Just in case it turns out they actually are." Which. Doesn't strike me as particularly helpful. Or even feasible. And that is certainly not a lens I would recommend universally applying to strangers. Not even famous ones.

Instead I think it's probably helpful to look at famous strangers the way you would look at strangers in your own life - like the barista at your coffee shop: that they are probably flawed but also presumably decent. And much like with a barista, in your limited interactions (largely exchanges of product for money, with perhaps a smattering of surface level small talk. Much like with celebrities) you probably won't have much opportunity to discover if they're secretly a bad person. So if it turns out they are, it really isn't your fault that you didn't notice.

And based on what I saw in his books and interviews and his memoir by Rob Wilkins - though he was presumably decent I also certainly think Terry Pratchett was flawed. He was occasionally rude (based on anecdotes from people who knew him), some of the jokes in his books about the counterweight content strike me as being in poor taste and despite his flashes of acab I'd say the perspective of the city watch books was actually largely police reformist rather than abolitionist.

Yet I continue like his work (and what small slice I know about him as a person) anyways.

And understanding creatives as being flawed doesn't even mean "there's something unequivocally problematic out there! Hiding! In their work! In their interviews! And if you employ enough of a bad faith reading then you'll be able to find it!" No. (I mean, there might be some genuinely ethically dubious stuff in there but there also might not.) In my experience even just seeing the little flaws, like flaws in their craft are enough to knock creatives off of the perfect pedestal in your mind. Like, stuff you don't even have to be super knowledgeable about the craft in question to notice. "Eh that scene really dragged. That joke didn't really land. Anyways" And I certainly think Terry Pratchett had his craft issues. Just look at the first two Discworlds and some of the middle rincewind books for proof of that. And it can even be smaller than that. Tiny personality flaws that annoy you: Terry Pratchett was very snobby about Doctor Who in a way that strikes me as overly pedantic enough to be worthy of an eyeroll.

We should see the creatives who you admire, who make work you love as earthly and human. Not as untouchable gods who can do no wrong. (Clearly that isn't working out for us for a variety of reasons)

And setting aside the total monsters, I think it's a good thing that the stuff you like was made by people who are flawed. Humans are flawed, the people in your fandom are flawed, your friends are flawed, and you're flawed. But look at all the cool stuff you all make anyways.

[facethemusic505]

In defense of Pippa Fitz-Amobi

While she may not be as underrated in her own series as Cassie Hobbes is in The Naturals, Pip still gets a lot of hate that can be easily debunked.

The treatment of Pip by the general fandom is shocking. While many praise her (me included), there is a minority who'll make her out to be the true villain of the series, despite that not being Holly's intentions at all.

They'll say that Pip wasn't justified in killing Jason, even though the circumstances in which she killed him in were understandable. He'd, stalked kidnapped, and intended to kill her, all because she wasn't "listening" to him. She knew he wouldn't let her live if she'd escaped.

They'll say that Pip should've just confessed after killing Jason instead of covering up his murder with Ravi and pinning it on Max, but fail to mention how Pip had no faith in the police after they continuously failed her throughout the first two books.

To her, killing the man who'd intended on killing her was a better option than going to the police, who'd most likely not believe her. Jason Bell was a privileged man who'd gotten away with it before, and I don't think Pip reporting him would have done anything.

We also hear how Pip was a terrible person for breaking up with Ravi, while not understanding her perspective on the matter. Yes, it's upsetting seeing them breakup, especially after everything they'd been through, but it was understandable. Pip knew that Hawkins suspected her for killing Jason, despite there being no evidence against her. She knew that, until Max was proven guilty, then it was better to remain distant instead of being close.

I understand that this could've made her look guiltier in Hawkins's eyes, but her distancing herself would've kept those around her safe. She practically saw herself as a ticking timebomb to those around her, so she thought it was better to be far from everyone else instead of being close and putting them in harm's way.

People will also say that Pip was a terrible person for not turning in Naomi when she'd discovered the photo that Sal had taken on the night of Andie's disappearance, but fail to realise her motivation for not turning her in was primarily for Cara's sake. She didn't want for Cara to lose her sister since she'd already lost her mother. And she'd also explained that the photo may not have been enough evidence for the police to reconsider opening Andie's case. The police had always been against Sal, and Pip knew that a photo may not be enough to prove to them that Sal was innocent.

And I've said this in a previous post, but book 3 Pip was not the character assassination that some of you believe. While the Pip we see in AGAD is noticeably different from AGGGTM Pip, the circumstances in how she became like how she was in AGAD are understandable. She'd been failed by the police, witnessed a man be murdered right in front of her eyes, had been betrayed by her friends + her neighbour, had become addicted to drugs, and was now being stalked.

To say that despite everything she'd experienced (at such a young age, mind you) should've just been ignored in favour of her being her old self again is the actual character assassination. No person can go through all of that and just be expected to act as how they were before. Pip learns that there will be nothing that she does that will bring her back to her old self; she's been changed by what she's experienced and will have to learn to live with it. I commend Holly for showing how trauma changes you and how you learn to cope with it.

Overall, Pip is not the villain that most people make her out to be. She's a traumatised teenage girl who shouldn't have been failed by those around her.

If you want to blame anyone for Pip's downfall, then blame the police for not believing her. It's not a teenager's fault that you can't do your job! If you need a teenager to do your job for you, then maybe you're the problem.

Love you, Pippa Fitz-Amobi <333

(Also, I might make this a series where I defend hated female characters. Any suggestions? My fandom list is in my intro <333)

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.20

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Believe it or not a large section of this chapter was actually one of the first things I wrote for this story, it was written out before the first chapter actually and I’ve been really excited to show it. This chapter is super long and has shifting perspectives.

This chapter also mirrors Ch.10. This is a long chapter.

First - Prev - Next

WARNING: T/W implications of past sexual assault. Implied past torture. Character death.

CH.20

“So you’re gonna show me that super off-limits study room?”

“Yes. I only ask that you keep an open mind, and please do not judge me.”

“Alright PhD, I’ll only judge you the normal amount.”

“Come inside.”

“-Woah- ahhh. You really like …Triangles, huh?”

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“It uh, it kinda makes me uncomfortable, not gonna to lie. Are you in a cult?”

“No. Come here, follow me to the mat in the center.”

“Okay…”

“Now, what do you think of this? Does it remind you of anything?”

“A newspaper clipping? Uh… That’s a pretty messed up car- oh, wait, yeah it does remind me of something.”

“What does it remind you of?”

“I used to have a car just like that. A red El Diablo.”

“And what happened to it?”

“...I don’t remember, actually. I’m trying to remember but it just makes my brain feel like it's on fire.”

“How did I not see this before…?”

“See what?”

“Stanley, when you were first traveling with Sanchez, were you sick at all?”

“Oh yeah, totally sick. I had this massive chest infection. Kept knocking the air mask off when I was delirious. If Rick didn’t constantly shoot me up with weird sci-fi drugs, it probably woulda killed me.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Where’re these questions coming from Doc?”

“I’ll explain soon, but I need to show you something else. Sit down on the floor.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to sit back-to-back with you. I need you to fall asleep.”

“You want me to… sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Doc, you know I got problems sleeping.”

“I doubt it will be a problem this time. I’m going to meditate, but I need you to sleep.”

“You’re not setting me up for some ritual sacrifice, right?”

“Do you trust me?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer that. Either meditate or sleep, whichever comes first. But I’m going to meditate.”

“...Alright. But if you cut my heart out and sacrifice it to the math gods or whatever, I’m haunting you.”

(...)

“Stanley.”

“Huh? Where are we?”

“The dreamscape. Specifically, we are in your dreamscape. You could also call it the mindscape. It’s a metaphysical representation of your mind.”

“You can beam yourself into people's minds?”

“Within limitations, yes. If I were to do so when the person is awake, I could only access their surface thoughts and memories. If the person were asleep, I could go a bit deeper and see their dreams, but I wouldn’t be able to easily traverse, and some deeper, more unconscious memories can’t be accessed.”

“So… Ya brought me here? What for?”

“We can access your mind deeper. But I need your permission to do so.”

“You can un-bury all of my lost memories?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to force it. I want to help you… but I know this is painful; both not knowing, and knowing. Do you want to know your real past? Even if it meant you’d have to remember why you forgot it all in the first place?”

“...Yeah. I think- hey what’s that thing coming out of your chest? Is that a rope?”

“...Yes, how did you-”

“I think I have that same thing, hold on, lemme just-”

“You’ve never been here, how would you-.”

“See, same thing. Is it supposed to do something?”

*Ford in shock suddenly grabs at the severed ends of both ropes and tries desperately to push them back together, but the ends keep repelling each other like magnets with the same charge*

“Hey doc, I don’t think you’re gonna attach ‘em like that.”

“Why isn’t it working? It’s supposed to work. It needs to-.”

“Woah! Calm down, PhD. Aren’t we here to dig up the past?”

“Right, right. We’ll get back to that. Do I want to know why your mindscape resembles a gambling lounge?”

“I spent a lot of time in a place called Lottocron Nine before I was banned from it.”

(...)

“Have you been in my mind before?”

“...Yes, during one of your sessions with Fiddleford.”

“...What kind of session?”

“An interview.”

“Oh, thank god. So ya just… broke into my mind?”

“Stanley, I understand if you are feeling-.”

“That’s really cool.”

“...What? You’re not upset?”

“Pft, I’ve broken into houses, cars, shops, warehouses; and even the Infinetentiary, twice . A persons mind though? That’s hardcore.”

“You’re being awfully candid about your multidimensional adventures with Sanchez.”

“There’s no point in hiding it now. You learned the first time you went into my mind, didn’t ya? That's how you knew who I was talking about when I mentioned Rick.”

“You’re handling this rather well.”

“Doc, we’ve both seen some crazy shit. This dreamwalking stuff isn’t even in the top ten.”

(...)

“FORRESTER!”

“Catch you on the flipside, sucker!”

“God, I hated that guy.”

“That IRS agent… What’s his name?”

“Agent Powers, why?”

“Just putting a name to a face.”

(...)

“I don’t like remembering this.”

“Tell us where your boss is hiding, and maybe we’ll spare that ugly mug of yours.”

“You think anything you do is gonna be worse than what Jimmy will do to me if I rat her out? I’ll take my chances with your sleazy ass.”

“This ‘Jimmy’ is female?”

“Yeah. Jimmy Snakes is just a street name. Other bikers wouldn’t take her seriously if they knew from the bat she was a chick. Her real last name is Jiménez.”

“But the J is pronounced as a-”

“Yeah, but guess how everyone who doesn’t speak Spanish tries to pronounce it when they read it?”

“Tough talk, Alcatraz. But everyone's got a limit.”

*the gangster takes the lit cigarette out of his mouth and brings it closer to Stan*

“Yeah, we don’t needa see this.”

*the memory suddenly blacks out but a sizzling noise is still heard*

(...)

“Stanley, this is a pit memory. These are memories your unconscious mind has been hiding from you.”

“Do we just, ya know, jump in?”

“Yes. In a way, it is like the bottomless pit, we would fall back right where we started, or your mental defenses could forcefully-.”

“Screw that, I’m imagining stairs.”

“You can’t just imagine -”

“Violá. Stairs.”

“...”

“What? This is my mind, anything I can imagine should be possible, right?”

“It should not be this easy for you. It takes months of rigorous meditation to-.”

“Maybe it woulda been easier for you to control what's in your head if it wasn’t so far up your ass all the time.”

(...)

“I don’t remember this.”

“It’s the science fair incident I told you about.”

“This is all your fault, ya dumb machine!”

“And now you’re about to-...”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, what did I do?”

“Man, did I fuck up or what?”

“There. Alright. Good as new. Probably.”

“...Stanley. You- you didn’t ruin my machine on purpose?”

“I don’t see you anywhere, but it looks like it.”

“You only hit the table …”

“Does it matter? The results are the same.”

"Stanley, I haven't been honest with you about this incident. After this, yes we fell out, but our father overheard and-."

"And he kicked me out? Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah... I think I always did. Just didn't wanna."

"But... I lied to you about it. I told you that you chose to leave."

"Dude. All I fuckin do is lie. I'm not feeling like being a hypocrite today."

"You're not mad at me? I turned my back on you!"

"Get in line, PhD. Rico outed me to the Aryan Brotherhood. Rick cheated on me with an Alien Hivemind. Jimmy chased me for fifty miles on the interstate on a flaming motorcycle trying to drag out my soul with bottles and chains. You got tired of my shit and told me to buzz off? Big deal!"

"I ruined your life..."

"I ruined my own life. It's kinda my thing, ya know."

(...)

“No- no. Oh, no. We can’t stay here, we need to leave.”

“This looks like the homeless shelter from Glass Shard Beach.”

“Hey- sir? Can ya help me with something?"

"Watcha need, kid?"

"I haven't been to one of these places before and its kinda-"

'Scary - no, I can't say that out loud. He'll think I'm being a baby.'

"It's kinda new to me. I heard there were phones here that don't charge ya?"

'I wanna call ma...'

"There sure is, just follow me."

"We need to leave."

"Stanley, what-?"

"We need to leave we can't stay here we need to-"

"This isn't- wait, what're ya d-? Hey!”

“Brats like you are too damn easy.”

“Back off you piece a-!”

WACK

“Why isn’t this memory blacking out, I’m trying to end it-.”

“Get offa me! Stop!”

“I don’t wanna remember this.”

“Stanley, I’m so sorry. I had no idea-.”

“Cry all you want, it won't help you.”

*the memory blacks out*

(...)

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

“ No. ”

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

“I think this pit over here is the one that… ya know, made me forget everything.”

“You are sure it’s this one?”

“There’s a giant neon sign over there that says ‘Do Not Enter: Everything is Worse’.”

“How considerate of your subconscious.”

“…I don’t think I can go any further. Go on without me.”

“Stanley-.”

“Stanford. I’m giving you permission to see that memory, whatever it is. I’m not going to kick you out of it. Just tell me what you saw after you get out, and we’ll go from there.”

“You are okay with that? Are you sure?”

“You asked me outside if I trusted ya. Here’s your answer.”

(...)

‘Moses, the fog’s getting pretty bad… can’t see shit’

‘Ain’t safe with all the curves ahead’

‘I should take a stop soon and wait for it to clear’

‘Huh? What’s up with my breaks?’

‘WHY ISN’T IT WORKING? WHY?’

‘He didn’t! That son of a-’ 

SCREECH

CRASH

Fwooosh!

‘Fuck! I gotta stay calm- I’ve gotten out of worse’

‘Ugh the smokes getting really thick-.’

‘Why isn’t the seat belt unbuckling? I don’t have a lotta time here.’

‘Where’s my strap cutter? Why isn’t it-!’

‘I’m really lightheaded…’

‘Can’t-’.

‘It’s too hot-.’

‘I’m trapped.’

‘I-I can’t breathe.’

*Stanley reaches up and pulls the picture of himself and Ford, which is on fire, off of the sun visor. It burns up into ash within his hands, which then start shaking*

"That was all I had... Now I have nothing. And I have nobody... I'm… alone."

‘I'm alone…’

‘I'm alone.’

*the memory suddenly blacks up, and then the scene changes and he’s looking at Rick Sanchez as he lies on the floor of his space cruiser. Ricks words are muffled at first*

'Where am I?'

'Who's this guy?'

'He tased me? Is this a cop?'

'Why was I in the woods?'

'Catatonic...?'

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

'I'm alone' 

“It’s…? I... 'm alone . Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“I do not understand… I suspected the car accident was the catalyst, but how did he escape? Did Sanchez rescue him and lie about it? What would he gain from that?”

“Nope!”

“Bill?”

“You know you can’t go anywhere without me, Fordsy.”

“Why did you wait until now to show yourself?”

“Dramatic entrance, of course!”

“...Right. Why doesn’t Stanley remember escaping his burning car?

“Because he didn’t. He died of smoke inhalation right there.”

“... What ?”

“Yeah. He died. Ironically, of suffocation. Isn’t that hilarious, Sixer? He used to suffocate you, and that ended up being the thing that killed him.”

“CIPHER! Whatever cruel joke you are trying to-.”

“Joke? I’m hurt Fordsy, I know when to be serious.”

“He didn’t die! We are in his mindscape! He’s asleep right behind me in the waking world!”

“Oh, Sixer… Your mommy was right when she said denial like this isn’t healthy.”

“STOP PLAYING THESE GAMES WITH ME BILL CIPHER.”

“Alright, alright. Here, let me give you a sneak peak of what happened between the scenes; he doesn’t remember, because it happened in his mindscape. So here’s my memory of what happened.”

“Your-?”

SNAP

(...)

“Hey there slick! Things getting too hot to handle?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Call me a guardian angel.” 

“Are all angels as geometric as you?”

“I took a form that would be comforting to you. I’m the symbol on the back of the money, you like money right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there we go! I’m here to help you.”

“... Why?”

“I’m a friend of a friend. And that friend would very much hate it if you burnt to death here. Shake my hand and I can get you out.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Like I said, friend of a friend. Just shake my hand. I’ll have temporary use of your body, and you’ll get to live.”

“I’d sooner chew up and spit out a gold chain before I fall for some Faustian bargain. No ones ever been nice to me in my entire life; there’s no reason my death would be any different. Leave me alone.”

“What about your family?”

“They won’t be surprised, there’s no way they didn’t see something like this coming. I’m surprised I lasted this long.”

“What about your brother? Your twin? You’re two halves of a whole - are you really going to leave him to live the rest of his life incomplete?”

“I’m the incomplete one, I failed by myself. But he can stand on his own.”

“Don’t you realize this will devastate him?”

“... I know it will.”

“Then why aren’t you taking this deal? Fordsy isn’t going to get over this. I know everything about him, and I’m telling you he never will. This will haunt him the rest of his natural life. The same way it would haunt you if he died.”

“If you’re such a Stanford expert, would he ever think I’d take a deathbed deal with a floating triangle in a top hat and fake eyelashes?”

“The eyelashes were a low blow. But, I’ll give it to you, slick; he does know you would never fall for flattery and trickery. But he’d also agonize why you’d give up like this.”

“There’s giving up, and there’s acceptance. Every decision I’ve ever made has led up to this. And most of them were the wrong ones. The consequences have caught up to me, and there’s nowhere to run anymore.”

“You’re choosing now of all times to accept the consequences of your actions?”

“Might as well, it’s the last chance I can.”

“You are going to die here. Stanley Romanoff Pines, if you don’t take a deal with me in the next minute you will die.”

“Guess I get one whole minute to reflect on everything huh?”

“And what would you reflect on?”

“If you’re really friends with my brother… if he ever asks about me for some reason, could you tell him that I love him?”

*a rope suddenly appears, with one end fading into Stanley’s chest. The other end appears to fade off into the distance*

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your twin bond with Sixer.”

“That’s a real thing, no shit?”

“Yes. It’s how I found you, actually. IQ was getting this sinking feeling of dread and didn’t know why, so I just followed it without telling him.”

“Does that mean he’ll feel it when-.”

“Yes.”

*Stanley looks at the rope before grabbing it with both hands, and pulling it in opposite directions until it’s broken into two. The end not connected to him disappears.*

“He doesn’t need to know what dying feels like.”

“...He doesn’t want you dead. He never hated you.”

“I know. But he doesn’t need to worry about supporting all of this dead weight. Ha! Get it? Dead weight! …Dead weight? It’s funny because I’m about to be dea-”

(...)

“-and he died exactly how he lived; making stupid jokes that no one but him finds funny- except for you, I can see even though you’re crying, you’re also trying really hard not to laugh .”

*Ford covers his face with his hands in grief*

“...That was a good one…”

“I waited for his heart to stop before I could take over - I can possess corpses you see, and for those fleeting minutes, he counted as one. I flexed just enough of my power to drag him out of his car - had to wait for that stuck seat belt to burn enough to rip - but all of that activity re-started his heart and brought him back, kicking me out of his body.

I had enough time to change some things - kept enough oxygen in his blood supply to prevent brain damage, deleted his fear of heights so he could climb out of the ravine, and rewired his optic nerves so he didn’t need glasses anymore - he wasn’t going to get any for himself anytime soon, he won’t need them until he gets cataracts at fifty-seven.

Anyways, that’s the real reason he was immune to that green cryptid; his worst nightmare was dying alone, and he already went through that.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“You didn’t ask. Not me. Not anyone. Not even yourself.”

“...”

“You always pushed your thoughts of him into the corner of your mind, Sixer. In your journals, any mention of him you’d cross out or write in a code. I saved him because I know you care about him. I didn’t tell you what happened because you wanted him out of sight, and out of mind.”

“Bill!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? And look at that, he still made his way back to you. Either that twin bond was magnetically pulling him towards its broken half, or I left just enough of an impression on his mind that the weirdness of Gravity Falls drew him here.”

“You left an impression on my brothers mind?”

“It’s like when you crinkle paper, Sixer. You can try to smooth it out all you want, but there’s still going to be traces that something happened. There’s not pieces of me left in his mind, if that’s what you’re worried about. He didn’t make a deal with me, unlike you. He just picked up some of my tendencies. Definitely explains why he uses nicknames so much, doesn’t it?”

“This is my nightmare.”

“This is the dreamscape.”

“...Why did you repress his memories?”

“You think I did that? Sixer, he died . You don’t come back from that the same way you were before.”

“Then why would he still remember most of the last ten years of his life, but not being kicked out or his entire life before that?”

“Fordsy, you heard his last conscious thoughts, and those became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before he passed out and then away, all he could focus on was how alone he felt. His brain did that thing all human brains tend to do; hid all the stuff that would hurt him more.”

“...No, he wouldn’t-.”

“Sixer. I know you can see the truth, you can’t hide your thoughts from me; why bother remembering himself, why bother remembering loving people when they didn’t bother to remember him, not even when he needed them the most?”

“...”

“Oh, goody, now you’re crying! Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do in situations like this. I don’t care if you don’t understand the reference, you’re not the one who’s supposed to.”

*Bill conjures up and then starts playing the Nightmare Realms smallest violin*

To be continued…

[apomaro-mellow]

CC Ransoms Steve 12

Part 11

Steve was brought into the living room and sat in an arm chair while Henry sat down on the couch. The thick curtains were drawn closed and the room was lit by lamps and one central light above. It was warm and yet there was something ominous about the shadows in the corners.

“I don’t get many visitors”, Henry admitted.

“Oh?”, Steve pretended to be interested while trying to think of a distraction because Eddie couldn’t go two full minutes without making a loud noise and he was due.

Eddie’s words ran through his head like an echo. He’d made a snide remark about Steve flirting with Henry Creel of all people. And Steve had said he’d show him flirting. And, well, he couldn’t think of a better distraction than that. So Steve moved from the armchair to the couch. He wasn’t anywhere close to the other man, but the movement itself was probably suggestive.

“Does that mean we won’t be bothered?”

Henry put his arm across the back of the couch, the tip of his finger landing just on the other side of Steve’s shoulder. “Allow me to answer that question with a question, Steve. Will your parents notice that you’re not home tonight?”

A siren went off in Steve’s head but he ignored it. It wasn’t like he was going to be here all night for real. “They probably won’t even call to wish me a Merry Christmas.”

"What a shame", Henry said, leaning in closer.

It was at that moment that the tea whistled and Henry stood to go into the kitchen. Steve let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't quite sure how old Henry Creel was supposed to be. He seemed thirty yet sixty. Either was a little too much for Steve. And he could admit there was something sinister in the air here. He might actually be in danger if he stayed too long.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Eddie had found the master bedroom and after a bit of snooping, he found exactly what he expected. An iron safe. Eddie took out his tools and got to work.

Eddie’s tongue stuck out as he worked on the safe. When it opened, he held back from a shout of triumph. He hadn’t wanted Steve here, but he wasn’t going to let his hard work go to waste. He opened up the safe, eyes widening when he saw what was inside. Apparently Mr. Creel had never heard of a bank. The safe was stacked with money.

And Eddie was sure he wouldn't miss a few bands…

Without any fanfare, he began stuffing cash into his clothes.

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

Henry came back with a tray of tea and snacks. He set it down on the coffee table and poured from the kettle to one of the cups.

"Do you take it with anything?", he asked, gesturing to the cream and sugar.

Steve would give anything for a beer right now but he needed his wits about him. "I don't really drink tea", he confessed. He was also reminded of the granny gossip he had to endure.

"I think you'd enjoy it with a bit of sugar", Henry said, placing a cube into the cup meant for Steve. He handed it over and Steve appreciated the warmth. And there was something intoxicating about the steam rising from the surface.

Henry watched with rapt attention as Steve brought it to his lips. The tea was close enough to warm his skin when an odd sound came from above them.

“Did you hear something?”, Henry said.

“It sounded like snow falling from the roof”, Steve said.

Henry stood. “I should go see if that’s all it was.”

Shitshitshit

“Wait!”, Steve exclaimed. “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind…before that…”

Henry sat back down. "I think I know why you came here, Steve."

"You do?", Steve gulped.

"I've been watching you for some time. The two of us are very alike. Both misunderstood by our families, both longing for a connection."

Henry moved closer to him and the alarms in Steve's head rang again. Steve had just been shooting in the dark when it came to flirting with his man but now he seemed genuinely interested. The problem was the vibe he gave was less romantic and more....more....well Steve didn't have a word for it. He just knew that from Henry's perspective, no one knew where Steve was and wouldn't miss him for days. A teen had just showed up on his doorstep as it was getting dark and Henry hadn't done anything to make the mood less intimate. And how long had he been watching him?

"Your tea is getting cold", Henry said, picking it back up and holding it out to Steve.

"I'm not really thirsty", Steve moved back a bit on the couch.

"It will warm you through. You're cold aren't you?"

Steve took the cup. Suddenly it looked less inviting than before. He swirled it around while Henry watched expectantly. He was about to say something, probably something more to urge Steve to drink when a cloth came around his mouth. Henry struggled while Eddie just shushed him.

"Go to sleep", he whispered. "There you go", he laid Henry back against the arm of the couch.

"Did you just chloroform him?!", Steve gasped, frozen in place.

"Yeah, ask yourself what kinda guy just keeps that stuff lying around", Eddie pocketed the cloth and then grabbed the tea, setting it back onto the tray before grabbing Steve. "Let's get outta here."

Night had fallen, so they went right out the front door, then down the street to where the van was. Steve didn't know exactly what Eddie had saved him from, but he did save him.

"Thank you", he said once they were driving off.

Eddie wanted to tell Steve not to thank him. It was because of him that Steve was even in that situation to begin with. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for his own carelessness. And it was only because of Steve that things hadn't gone to complete shit.

"Thank you", Eddie said back.

"Did you find something good?", Steve asked.

"I'd say the 10k I've got stuffed on my person qualifies."

Part 13 (final?) coming soon

Taglist

@tinyplanet95 @dammitjim02 @chaotic-waffle @missarte-beltane @im-sam-fucking-winchester

@persnicketysquares @estrellami-1 @spookycollectorcandies @chocolateraccoonlights @exasperatedsighohmy

@disrespectedgoatman @yesdangerpls @me-ig7 @imaginary-maggie-waggie @live-laugh-love-dietrich

@wheneverfeasible @ttyrussss @atemisiscursed @jamieweasley13 @starstruck-prince

[ilikekidsshows]

Sorry for putting this in your ask box, I just need to vent before I reply to that person's post and get into an useless argument.

I simply can't understand how someone can genuinely convince themselves into believing that Marinette is the one who's shortcomings or "joke problematic behaviour" in the love square are treated harsher and more seriously than Adrien's.

That Cat Noir harassing Ladybug was less punished and covered by the story than Marinette's stalking

???

What the fuck kind of show are they watching, it sure as hell isn't Miraculous.

Adrien was wrecked over the coals in season 4 and 5 and blamed for EVERYTHING in Ladynoir! Everything was blamed on his love for her and on how he's owed nothing in any way possible, he's just entitled, everything she does is actually right and just and he just needs to learn his lesson and understand that and stop MAKING HER treat him badly. He's made responsible for EVERYTHING she does to him and he's forced to swallow it as the truth and improve so she never ever has to.

This show went above and beyond to punish Adrien for his "joke problematic behaviour", meanwhile Marinette was called out twice for her sralking in little scenes in Emotion and Pretention and in both she pouted like a child that she has to even acknowledge any fault of her own.

Marinette was NEVER called out by adrien for her shit. Especially not in the way Maribug gets to punish Cat Noir for how he loves or doesn't love her (let's not forget how she was willing to turn into his enemy in Elation for being told no, and then afterwards immediately wanted to leave in Kwamis Choice before Plagg even got there because of how much Elation "broke" her. Something ADRIEN WAS THEN BLAMED FOR).

What a fucking JOKE that people think Adrichat's side of the love square is getting blames less. Buddy, ADRIEN AND CAT NOIR is the one who was made to entirely change to develop the love square.

CAT NOIR stopped loving Ladybug and accepted that he was wrong all along in everything

And ADRIEN was made to feel like he was wrong for not having noticed Marinette from the get go, they even made him do all the work in s5 Adrinette to "make it up for her suffering he inflicted upon her as oblivious Adrien and AWFUL Cat Noir who denied her in Elation".

The reason why Marinette's shortcomings (or the stalking "joke") are still being put front centre is because THE SHOW NEVER ACTUALLY ASKED HER TO GROW PAST THAT! She wasn't punished more for it cause if she had been she were the one now who's narrative punishment/ development changed the entire love square! But she didn't!

Adrien/ Cat Noir doesn't display his flaws anymore because the show blamed and punished that boy to hell and back so Marinette can stay validated and static.

Adrien/ Cat Noir doesn't display his flaws anymore because the show took it serious enough to make him fucking STOP.

Marinette's flaws still being front and center doesn't mean she's punished more by the narrative, it's means that MAYBE it's should be HER for once and not Adrien who's being punished and forced to stop and change!

---

Yeah, like, in every single episode we get to know exactly how Marinette feels about anything going on, her perspective is valued even in other people's problems. God forbid, if she's upset over that other person’s problem because then her being upset is everybody else's problem too. Meanwhile, anything that's directly influenced Adrien gets swept under the rug without as much as a comment from him, or we get a general “he’s sad but he’ll just take care of himself”.

Adrien has been made to apologize for and walk back everything his salters whine about, meanwhile, all Marinette is made to give us is excuses for why she was totally justified, actually, before she keeps doing the thing she supposedly was called out on. Could you imagine if Sublime had lashed out at Marinette for doing the thing she's been told she shouldn't do in ‘Sublimation’? Sublime would have been treated as the villain both by the writers and fandom. Meanwhile Cat Noir getting thrown into a trash can by Ladybug is treated as justified.

Now that she knows you can easily resist an Akuma, that means she was going to let Gabriel Akumatize her because Cat Noir wouldn't kiss her until he kissed her under duress, and no one as much as mentions that. But, sure, it's her who is always punished and Cat Noir who always gets catered to. Some people just don’t pay attention to what actually happens in the shows they watch. Plot summary Youtube videos are good for people who can't experience a story in its original format for some reason, but these are the people who think those videos are an "analysis": people who can’t even follow basic sequences of events.