#it's something i get frustrated about often

[fromchaostocosmos]

Hey OP everything I'm about to say I'm saying out both kindness and frustration.

I'm guessing that you are not Jewish because what you wrote really does not reflect the reality of life for Jews in the USA at that time.

Jews would not be socialites or rubbing elbows with wealthy and elite. And no matter how much any Jews would have stripped away any their Jewish identity they still would have been viewed as classless and lesser by the upper echelon.

Jews were immigrants who primarily did not speak English and mostly were on the east coast.

Fun fact about Jews during this time: Jews who kept Shabbat would have to look for a new job ever week because they would be fired for refusing to work on Shabbat.

As for San Fransisco Jews only came there due the California Gold Rush which happened the mid point of the 1800's.

Jews were heavily involved in Unions and were a major backbone of the Labor movement.

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire of 1911 is something that is major keystone is labor rights and movement history. You can not learn about unions and labor laws or anything to do with that without hearing about this. But you know what always gets glossed over, ignored, and often outright erased? The fact that the majority of the workers were Jewish girls and women.

In fact if you look at pictures of many labor marches you will notice that the signs are in Yiddish.

The Jewish identity of the Jewish contributors the unions, labors laws, child labor laws, and labor rights get erased and they become immigrants of X country when their Jewishness played a important role in why they fought for what they did, but also why they faced the discrimination and unfair labor practices they faced.

Also Oscar Wilde would not have had anything to do with anything related to Jews because he was a massive antisemite.

There is this thing that people often do, such as what you have, where they write Jews as having wealth, privilege, and access thinking that they are being inclusive when really what is happening is the furthering of antisemitic tropes and stereotypes as well as a revision of history when this happens in historical settings.

You want to make the Jewish character the prince of the story no problem. Have them be an organizer for a Union and the ball can some kind event or even march or something related to unions.

That can be a connection point between the two of them. The prince title can be a nickname or another connection point where her name, either first or last, is mispronounced by non-Yiddish speakers.

You could even have it be that she is going out and doing out reach to different jobs to get them to unionize/help unionize.

as for views towards their child being gay honestly it would vary with how religious the family was, but also the fact that she was a girl and not a boy it would not as much as a deal due to religious understandings.

While a lot of parts of Yiddish culture has been lost due to the loss of many Yiddish speakers their has existed within this culture a whole queer culture/world though they had their own words to describe it.

This idea has merit and could work it just need to fix the historical inaccuracies and cultural insensitivities in regards to the Jewish parts.

I'm not Chinese so I can't speak to those parts and I don't OP if you are Chinese so again I don't feel it is my place to speak on any of those parts.

Because I do not want Sephardim to left out or forgotten I want to point out that Ashkenazi Jews are not and have not been the only Jews in the USA.

1934 saw San Francisco's first Sephardi Synagogue.

So while yes there was in the 1800's a large influx of Jewish immigration of Ashkenazi Jews to the USA that doesn't mean that there were no Sephardim in the USA already or Sephardim who at the time who were moving around the USA or immigrating to the USA.

I don't want Sephardi history to be ignored or erased.

There is nothing wrong with having the Jewish character be Ashkenazi, I just want to make sure that if I'm accounting for proper historical record in regards to Jews then I'm doing that and leaving out Sephardim.

cinderella remake set in 1880s san francisco where cinderella is a chinese immigrant with bound feet and also she’s a butch lesbian and the prince is a butch lesbian too but she’s a paris-educated german-american socialite and a darling of the transatlantic arts and literary world so the connotations of her gender nonconformity are completely different. oscar wilde is there

[dreamscapeee222]

Could you write Arcane characters and reader fight. Who is the one to apologize first.

A/n: This took a while. I think I liked writing this one. I hope you like it too !!

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

You’re pacing the apartment, arms crossed as Vi throws her jacket onto the couch, fresh bruises blooming across her knuckles.

"You promised, Vi," you say, voice trembling, though it’s unclear if it’s from anger or worry. "You said you’d stop throwing yourself into danger."

Vi exhales sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. "What do you want me to do? Sit back and let everyone fend for themselves?" Her tone is defensive, her walls already going up. "No, I want you to consider how I feel when you walk out that door like you’re invincible!" you shout, tears brimming. She flinches at your words but doesn’t respond, instead turning toward the door. "I need some air," she mutters, leaving before you can say another word.

Hours pass, and the apartment feels impossibly quiet without her. You’re curled on the couch when the door creaks open, Vi stepping in hesitantly. Her face softens when she sees you, guilt written all over her. "I shouldn’t have walked out," she starts, voice low. "And I shouldn’t have made you feel like you don’t matter. You do. More than anything." She sits beside you, her hand brushing yours. "I’ll try to be better—safer—for you. Just… don’t give up on me."

Jinx

The argument starts with something small—a misunderstanding spiraling into chaos, as things with Jinx often do. You’re frustrated, arms crossed as you say, "You can’t just act like nothing matters. You keep running off, leaving me to pick up the pieces." Jinx’s eyes narrow, her voice defensive. "Oh, so now I’m the problem? Maybe if you stopped trying to control me, I wouldn’t have to." Her words cut deeper than you’d like to admit. You shake your head, hurt threading through your voice. "That’s not what I’m doing, Jinx. I just want you to let me in." She scoffs, brushing past you with a muttered, "Whatever." The slam of the door leaves the room eerily silent.

Later, you find her sitting on the floor of her workshop, surrounded by half-finished projects. She’s fidgeting with a small gadget, but her movements are jittery, unfocused. When she looks up, there’s a flicker of guilt in her wide eyes. "I’m not good at this, okay?" she says suddenly, her voice soft but frantic. "I mess things up. I don’t mean to, but I do." You step closer, kneeling in front of her. "You didn’t mess up, Jinx. I just—" She cuts you off, shoving a tiny, lopsided trinket into your hands. It’s a crude carving of you two, rough but undeniably heartfelt. "I made this. I was mad, but I kept thinking about how much I hate when we fight." Her gaze drops. "I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you away. You mean too much to me." You wrap your arms around her, and she clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. Her whispered, "Don’t hate me, okay?" is a quiet plea that you’ll never stop reassuring her about.

Caitlyn

The fight begins when Caitlyn forgets to show up for dinner, something you planned weeks ago. You’re sitting at the table, the candles burned low, food cold on the plates when the door finally opens. She looks exhausted, her uniform slightly disheveled.

"Caitlyn," you start, your tone sharper than you intended. "You didn’t even send a message." Her brow furrows. "It was work—there was an emergency. You know I can’t just drop everything." You stand, crossing your arms tightly. "I get that your work is important, but do you ever think about us? About me?" Her expression falters, but instead of conceding, she doubles down. "This isn’t fair. I’m doing everything I can to keep things safe—for all of us." The tension snaps, and you turn away, muttering, "Maybe you’re better off with someone who doesn’t need you to show up."

The silence that follows is deafening. Caitlyn doesn’t respond but leaves quietly, and for the rest of the evening, the apartment feels colder without her presence.

Hours later, the door creaks open again. You’re curled up on the couch, pretending not to notice her until she speaks softly. "I thought about what you said," she begins, sitting on the edge of the couch beside you. "And you’re right. I haven’t been showing you how much you mean to me." You glance at her, catching the guilt in her tired eyes. She reaches for your hand. "I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll do better. For us." Her sincerity melts away your hurt, and as you lean into her touch, she adds with a small smile, "And next time, I’ll at least bring dessert as an apology."

Ekko

The argument begins when Ekko overworks himself again, pushing past limits you’ve warned him about. He’s been up for hours, fixing up a broken clockwork mechanism, his hands trembling with exhaustion.

"You promised you’d take breaks," you say, stepping into the workshop, frustration clear in your voice. "You’re going to burn out, Ekko." He doesn’t look up, his jaw tightening. "I don’t have time to stop. The Undercity needs this, needs me." You cross your arms. "And what about me? Do I even matter in your world of never-ending responsibility?" His head snaps up at that, brows furrowed. "That’s not fair. You know I’m doing this for a reason." The hurt spills out before you can stop it. "Sometimes it feels like I’m just waiting on the sidelines for scraps of your time." You leave before he can respond, your heart heavy.

Hours later, you’re in bed, staring at the ceiling, when there’s a soft knock on your door. Ekko steps in hesitantly, holding a small gadget you’ve seen him working on before—a music box. "I made this for you," he says quietly, setting it down beside you. The melody that plays is soft and familiar, something that always calms you. His voice cracks as he speaks. "I messed up. You’re not on the sidelines—you’re the reason I keep going. I just… don’t know how to balance it all sometimes." You look at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through your lingering anger. He sits on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing yours. "I’ll do better. For you. I swear." The fight doesn’t disappear instantly, but as you lean into him, you know you’ll figure it out together.

Jayce

The fight begins when Jayce cancels plans at the last minute—again. This time, it was supposed to be a rare, quiet evening together, but his work at the Council dragged him away.

You stand in the kitchen, arms crossed, as he walks in late that night. He looks tired, but you’re too frustrated to care. "Did you even think to tell me you weren’t coming?" Jayce sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was swamped. Things ran over—what do you want me to say?" "I want you to say you actually care," you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. His expression shifts, hurt flickering across his face.

"That’s not fair," he counters, his tone defensive. "You know I care about you. But this work—it’s not something I can just walk away from." You shake your head, stepping back. "Sometimes it feels like your work is the only thing that matters to you." You leave him standing in the kitchen, retreating to your room and shutting the door behind you.

When you wake the next morning, there’s a soft knock on the door. Jayce steps in, holding a small tray with coffee and your favorite breakfast. His sheepish smile doesn’t quite mask the regret in his eyes. "You’re right," he says, setting the tray down. "I’ve been letting work take over, and that’s not fair to you. To us." He hesitates before sitting beside you. "I hate fighting with you. Please let me make it up to you." You sigh, leaning into his warmth. "You have to actually try, Jayce." His arms wrap around you, his voice soft. "I will. You’re more important to me than anything else. I’ll show you that."

Viktor

The argument starts after you notice Viktor pushing himself too hard again. His lab is dimly lit, a cluttered mess of papers and prototypes, and he’s leaning heavily on his cane while adjusting a mechanism.

"Viktor, you need to rest," you say firmly, stepping into the room. "This isn’t sustainable." He glances at you briefly but doesn’t stop. "There’s too much at stake to rest," he replies, his tone clipped. "You know that." You cross your arms. "I also know what happens when you push yourself past your limits. You can’t keep doing this to yourself." Viktor stiffens, his frustration bubbling over. "And what would you have me do? Sit idle while everything crumbles around me?" The sharpness in his voice stings, and you take a step back. "I just want you to take care of yourself for once," you say quietly before turning and leaving the lab.

Later that evening, you hear a knock on your door. When you open it, Viktor is standing there, looking apologetic, a faint tremor in his hands. "You’re right," he says, his voice softer now. "I’ve been careless with myself, and that’s not fair to you. Or to us." He hesitates, as though searching for the right words. "I never want you to feel like I don’t hear you. I just… get lost sometimes." You step aside to let him in, and he takes your hand gently. "I’ll try to be better—for you. For both of us." His sincerity melts the tension, and as you sit together in the quiet, you know he means it.

Mel

The argument begins with Mel’s tendency to keep her emotions guarded, leaving you feeling shut out again. It happens during dinner, her silence heavy as she focuses on her work instead of you.

"Do you even care about this relationship?" you ask, the words escaping before you can stop them. Mel’s head lifts sharply, her calm demeanor cracking slightly. "What kind of question is that?" she replies, her tone cool but defensive. You press on, frustrated. "You never let me in, Mel. It’s like you’ve already decided you don’t need me." She sets her utensils down with precision, her voice clipped. "And you’ve decided to make this about you. I have responsibilities that extend beyond personal feelings." The words sting, and you shake your head. "Maybe I should stop trying if you’re not willing to meet me halfway." You leave the room before your voice can break.

The next morning, Mel finds you sitting by the window, your face turned toward the city. She approaches quietly, holding a small, beautifully wrapped box. Without a word, she sets it down beside you. Inside is a delicate bracelet, the design intricate and unmistakably hers. "You’re not wrong," she admits softly, sitting beside you. "I’ve built walls to protect myself, but they’ve shut you out. That wasn’t my intention." Her hand reaches for yours, her touch tentative. "I care for you more than I’m able to show sometimes. Please, don’t doubt that." You turn to her, the vulnerability in her expression easing the ache in your chest. "I don’t need grand gestures, Mel. I just need you." She nods, her voice firm but warm. "And you’ll have me—every piece, no matter how long it takes."

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[solxamber]

haii can i req octotrio, malleus, and leona (all seperate!) with a reader like kokomi from genshin thats also a jellyfish? romantic or not it doesn’t matter to me ^_^ also feel free to add more characters the more the merrier :3

Leona, Octatrio, Malleus, Riddle, Vil, Rook, Rollo x Kokomi! Jellyfish! Reader

a/n; i felt pretty inspired so i added quite a few <3

Leona Kingscholar

Leona pretends he’s indifferent, but your serene and calculated demeanor throws him off.

The first time he sees your glowing form under the moonlight, he blinks twice, convinced he’s hallucinating. “Tch, what’s with the light show? Trying to blind me or something?” But secretly, he’s mesmerized.

Your habit of calmly handling disputes in the dorm (often between Ruggie and others) frustrates him. “You can’t just talk people into behaving,” he grumbles, only to watch you succeed every time.

Leona’s competitive side comes out when he learns about your strategic mind. Chess games with you become a weekly ritual, and losing to you annoys him more than he’ll admit.

Despite his gruffness, he’s deeply protective of you, especially when someone comments on your jellyfish-like features. “Say that again, and I’ll show you why you don’t mess with jellyfish.”

Sometimes, he watches you float gracefully in water, pretending he’s there for a nap. “Stop staring at me, Leona.” “Who’s staring? I’m just resting my eyes.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is immediately intrigued by your jellyfish traits and calm demeanor—after all, you’re a marine creature, and that’s his territory.

Your bioluminescence is something he secretly envies, though he’ll never admit it. “A marvelous ability,” he says while scribbling notes for future contracts.

Your strategic thinking makes you one of the few people who can keep up with him in negotiations. He offers you a job at the Lounge almost immediately, “to better utilize your talents.”

Whenever Floyd or Jade annoys him, Azul uses you as a buffer. “Perhaps you could… calm them down?” And, to his astonishment, it works. Even Floyd listens to you.

He’s absolutely fascinated by your glowing hair and jellyfish-like appendages. “Do they serve a specific function, or are they purely aesthetic?” he asks while trying not to sound overly eager.

Azul secretly finds your tranquil nature soothing. After a long day of scheming, he’ll seek your company under the guise of “strategic discussions,” but really, he just wants to hear your voice.

Jade Leech

Jade is utterly fascinated by you from the moment he meets you. Your resemblance to a jellyfish sparks his curiosity.

He constantly asks you questions about your biology, glowing abilities, and lifestyle. “Do you use your bioluminescence to lure prey, or is it purely decorative?”

Jade enjoys teasing you, especially when you’re peacefully floating in water. “You look so serene. It’s almost a shame to disturb you.” Then he splashes you.

He respects your calm and collected demeanor, but he’s determined to find out what flusters you. Watching your serene mask slip is his new favorite pastime.

If someone dares insult you, Jade’s smile grows even sharper. “I wouldn’t recommend making an enemy of a jellyfish, you know. They’re far more dangerous than they appear.”

He enjoys your company during his hikes, fascinated by how your glowing presence adds an ethereal beauty to the forest.

Floyd Leech

Floyd is absolutely obsessed with you. You’re a jellyfish, and jellyfish are cool—end of story.

He immediately nicknames you “Jelly,” much to your mild exasperation. “C’mon, Jelly! Let’s go do something fun!”

Floyd loves poking at your glowing features. “What happens if I touch this? Will it zap me?” (You have to swat his hand away repeatedly.)

Your calm nature intrigues him. “How do you stay so chill all the time? Don’t you ever wanna, like, flip out?” He sees it as a personal challenge to get you riled up.

He’s oddly protective of you. If anyone messes with you, Floyd’s mood sours instantly, and you have to calm him down before he does something drastic.

Floyd loves dragging you into the water to “swim like real jellyfish.” His playful nature contrasts hilariously with your serene floating.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus finds you absolutely enchanting. Your ethereal glow and calm presence remind him of a fairytale.

The first time he sees you glowing in the dark, he’s convinced you’re some sort of spirit. “Are you a creature of the night, summoned by the stars?” You laugh, which only confuses him more.

He adores your serene demeanor and often seeks your company when he’s feeling lonely. “You have a calming presence. It is… soothing.”

Your strategic mind impresses him. He occasionally consults you on matters of state, and your insight leaves him in awe.

Malleus is enchanted by your glowing features and bioluminescence. He often compares you to the stars and moon. “You shine as brightly as the night sky,” he says, his voice soft.

He’s protective of you, especially when others don’t understand your unique traits. “Anyone who dares mock your beauty will answer to me,” he declares, his aura dark and foreboding.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is equal parts fascinated and exasperated by your serene and dreamy nature.

He struggles to reconcile your gentle demeanor with the strict order he upholds. “You can’t just let them get away with breaking rules.” But you always seem to handle things so effortlessly, he can’t help but feel a little envious.

The first time he sees your bioluminescence, he’s stunned. “W-What are you glowing for? Is that some sort of trick?” He secretly thinks it’s mesmerizing.

Your calmness has a soothing effect on him during his temperamental moments. When you gently suggest he take a deep breath, he can’t find it in himself to argue.

Your strategic mind earns his respect, especially when you help him resolve dorm conflicts with minimal drama. He finds himself seeking your counsel more often than he’d like to admit.

He tries to deny how much your presence comforts him, but when you glow softly under the moonlight, he’s reminded of the beauty of following one’s heart.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil finds you utterly captivating, both for your glowing beauty and your ability to remain so composed under pressure.

He immediately notices your bioluminescence and praises it as “natural elegance.” He may even use it as inspiration for his next photoshoot.

Vil admires your calm demeanor but insists on refining your presentation. “Grace comes naturally to you, but you must carry it with intention.”

Your ability to remain poised even under stress makes him jealous sometimes. He spends hours perfecting himself while you seem effortlessly radiant.

The two of you often engage in long conversations about leadership and balance. He’s impressed by your thoughtful insight, though he won’t always admit it.

He pretends not to care when others praise your ethereal glow, but he can’t help but feel proud, especially when you stand by his side at events.

Rook Hunt

Rook is absolutely enchanted by your jellyfish-inspired traits and ethereal aura.

The first time he sees your bioluminescence, he dramatically declares, “Magnifique! You are a creature of the heavens, a glowing gem beneath the sea!”

Rook constantly watches you, fascinated by the way you move and speak. He calls it research, but it’s really just admiration.

Your calmness intrigues him. He frequently tests your patience with his flamboyant antics, but you never falter, much to his delight.

He adores how your strategic mind contrasts with your soft demeanor. “You are as cunning as you are serene, ma chérie méduse.”

Rook writes poems inspired by your bioluminescent glow, claiming that no words could ever truly capture your beauty.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo is conflicted about you. Your calm, composed nature intrigues him, but your glowing features remind him of magic—something he loathes.

The first time he sees you glowing, he’s visibly unsettled. “Is this some kind of magic trick? I don’t trust it.” Yet, he can’t look away.

Your tranquil demeanor softens his usual disdain. He begrudgingly admits that you’re… tolerable, though his fascination with you grows daily.

Rollo’s jealousy flares whenever others praise your ethereal beauty. “They’re only bewitched by appearances,” he mutters, trying to convince himself he’s not affected.

Your intelligence earns his respect, though he won’t openly say it. He finds himself relying on your calm judgment more than he’d like.

Despite his feelings about magic, he catches himself enjoying the way your glow lights up dark spaces. It’s almost… comforting.

Masterlist

[at0m-b0mb-baby]

Viktor x GN! reader relationship headcanons

| warnings: pure fluff and love

♡ Mornings

Viktor isn’t too much a morning person, but he loves waking up beside you. He often watches you for a few quiet moments before the day begins, soaking in the peacefulness of your shared space. Occasionally, you’ll catch him in the act and he’ll chuckle, softly murmuring something about how adorable you look when you’re still half-asleep

♡ subtile gestures of effectiom

He’s not one for grand displays of PDA but makes up for it with small, thoughtful touches. A hand on your back when you’re working, kiss on the cheek, or his fingers ghosting over yours when you sit together. These fleeting moments mean everything to him.

♡ working

Viktor often gets lost in his research, so you’ve made it your mission to ensure he doesn’t overwork himself. You bring him tea, remind him to eat, and sometimes drag him away for a break. He pretends to protest but secretly loves how much you care. On particularly long nights, you’ll join him, keeping him company with a book or light chatter, and he finds comfort in the quiet companionship.

♡ Comforting Him

When his work frustrates him or his health takes a toll, you’re his safe person. You’ll sit beside him, holding his hand and reminding him of his worth beyond his inventions. He doesn’t always respond immediately, but the way he leans into your presence says everything.

♡ humorous interactions

You tease him about his tendency to forget the world when he’s working. “Should I start sending you formal invitations just to have dinner with me?” you joke, and he responds with a smirk, “If you make them compelling enough, I’ll consider.” His dry humor often catches you off guard, and it’s one of the many things you adore about him.

♡ pet names

Viktor likes classy and not too overly sweet nicknames. He has a fondness for calling you names in his native tongue his favourite being Miláčku (darling). The words always carry a weight of affection that leaves you smiling.

♡ Unspoken Understanding

Sometimes, neither of you needs to say much. When he’s deep in thought, you’ll quietly slide a cup of tea onto his desk, and he’ll give you a soft, grateful smile. Other times, he’ll rest his hand lightly on your shoulder as he passes by, grounding you both without a word.

♡ Celebrating Achievements

When something goes right in his research, you’re the first person he tells. His eyes light up, and he stumbles over his words trying to explain it. Even if you don’t fully understand, your excitement mirrors his, and he treasures how you celebrate even his smallest victories.

♡ Playful Intimacy

Though usually serious, Viktor has a playful streak that comes out when you least expect it. He’ll lightly poke fun at you for mispronouncing a scientific term or challenge you to chess during a quiet evening, pretending to be annoyed when you win. It’s these little moments that make your bond so special.

♡ Quiet Nights

After long days, the two of you often wind down with soft candlelight, quiet music, and conversation. He loves hearing you talk about your day, your dreams, and anything else on your mind. For Viktor, these evenings are his sanctuary, where the weight of the world fades away.

♡ Sudden Passion

Though typically reserved, Viktor occasionally surprises you with bursts of affection. He’ll pull you close for an unexpected kiss or take your hands in his and tell you how much you mean to him. His words are rare but carry an intensity that makes your heart race.

[spitdrunken]

amab reader x mr chopped hello… literally and figuratively face fucking him ?? <- i think he would display some jealousy towards the other creatures being so affectionate with you and him not exactly being able to do the same …

now THIS IS A GOOD THOUGHT ANON!!

notes: amab reader and oral sex

Mr. Chopped has very few ways in which he can express his affection for you, and this is a fact that often frustrates him. Others can wrap their long, heavy limbs around you, crawl with you in bed out of their own accord, and protect you from anything that comes your way! But he's incapable of any of that. He likes that you accept him the way he is, he likes being carried and held, he likes you you you! But, sometimes, he wishes he had a constant way of showing it. (If he'd had a physical body, he'd be wrapped around you at all times…)

So, when Mr. Chopped finds something he excels at, he's delighted! Even though he usually hates being used as a toy for other's amusement, he'll make an exception and be a special toy for you.

His mouth easily swallows the entirety of your cock inside of its inky depths. Perhaps it's a bit unnerving the first time, but the inside of his mouth feels as warm and wet as you would've expected, and he's so good at it. He doesn't have a throat, so there's no gag reflex to speak of. As long as you promise to take him to the Hairdresser afterwards to get it fixed, he'll let you thread your fingers through his hair and pull him up an down your cock at a rapid pace. He'll do his best to run his tongue along your underside to the rhythm of your thrusts.

As you use him, you'd be able to catch sight of a loopy grin on his face if you were to glance down. He'll speak around your cock sometimes too, tiny little garbled noises you can't begin to decipher. But he always looks happy. It's a balm to his usual feelings of jealousy, when he knows that no one else will be able to make you feel quite this good so easily! (He absolutely brags about it too, to anyone who will listen, though the Other World's language doesn't have the terms to quite capture what you've been up to…)

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you have any advice on making a living working in historic preservation? I feel like every opportunity in the field (ex. Local historical societies) is volunteer work, which I do, but I also need money!

:)

:) :) :) :)

I am so sorry but you've hit upon the main employment problem with this field: it is wildly underpaid. Especially if you want to do something with museum content/collections/preservation rather than admin.

The issue is, this system (at least in the US, where I live) started out in the late 19th century being run by people who had a lot of free time and a LOT of money already. Married upper-class women, rich men- often gay, interestingly enough -with academic turns of mind, etc. They didn't need the money, so they built a structure designed to function that way. And for many years a lot of this work continued to be done by volunteers.

Except then people came along with the audacity to want to make a career out of it. Without enough generational wealth to not need payment! Oh no!

So now there are not enough full-time jobs in the field for people who want them, unfortunately. They're out there! But you might have a hell of a time getting into one.

I'd say to look for bigger orgs over small ones, or small orgs in big cities. We love a tiny house museum in the middle of nowhere, but they often have the smallest budgets in a world of small budgets. Also, consider starting out part-time and trying to work your way up (just make sure the org has full-time employees first). Making connections is paramount- I've only had part-time museum jobs so far, but I never got a single one just by applying online. You can, but it helps a lot to have someone say "hey, the Fancyman-Spinsteracademic-Wepromisewe'rereckoningwithslaverynow House is hiring; want me to put in a good word for you?"

Alternately, learn some hands-on preservation skill like carpentry or horology (working with mechanical clocks- PLEASE learn horology if you go this route; all the horologists are 80 and they keep dying) could be a way to get specific talents that historical site museums can't function without and will therefore pay for when the budget allows. In cities with lots of historical architecture that they actually care about preserving- so not NYC, apparently -there are often independent companies that specialize in different aspects thereof. Historical window repair, historical plastering, historical brickwork maintenance, etc. Trying to get hired by one of those is a way to go into preservation without working in museums. Private auction houses or antiques dealers can also be an option, if you're more into the Collections Objects side of things.

I don't mean to make it sound bleak. My eight-year career in museums has been entirely part-time collections/interpretation/admin jobs stitched together, and while I'm sick of the "underpaid and relying on my parents to pay for my insurance" aspect (yes, I freely admit it; I'm a lowkey continuation of the Can't Work In Museums If You Don't Have Family Financial Support tradition and very very lucky to be able to do what I do, and yet even I'M frustrated and tired and over it), it is deeply fulfilling work that I consider highly worthwhile and important. And there ARE avenues to make a decent living in it!

I just want to explain the phenomenon you're seeing and give you realistic expectations.

Best of luck!

[itsmrshamilton]

No Apologies (2)| LH44

summary: the aftermath of the fallout between Lewis and Y/n. Are they willing to apologise and make up?

a/n: sorry it took so long. please engage before you leave!

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"Mummy?" Called Leo from the backseat. His black curls were a mess from playing with them. Something he did when he got really bored or annoyed.

"Yes, my sweets?" Y/n looked up to see him in the rearview mirror.

"Is Auntie Sofie going to have popcorn there?"

"Yes, my sweets."

"And rice cakes?"

"Yes."

"And ice lollies?"

"Yes, Leo."

"What about-"

"Leo, Sofie always has your favourite snacks can you drop it!"

Leo stared at her in the mirror before jutting his bottom lip out and turning to the window. The cutest pout she's ever seen but her frustration and guilt didn't allow her to let it stick around.

She sighed to herself. He was just trying to keep himself entertained. Unfortunately, she was too overwhelmed to do that right now. "I'm sorry. Leo. Leo, look at me. Mummy's sorry about that. We'll get to Auntie Sofie's place soon, then you can ask her if she's got everything. Okay?"

Parenting definitely isn't for the weak. He stayed silent for a minute, still pouting violently.

"Okay."

It was the kind of home Y/n grew up wanting for herself. She'd spoken to Sofie about it during many childhood sleepovers. 12 years ago, she could have been upset that Sofie got to buy it first if it weren't for the fact that she had met Lewis by that point and moved into his luxurious Monaco apartment.

The rest of the drive there was quiet except for a few sniffles from Leo. He wouldn't meet her eye in the mirror and continued to stare out the window til he fell asleep. Sofie's house was 2 hours away, but it was the only place she could go in order to take some time to think. The sky had changed to a light orange by the time she got there.

One couldn't tell that the small house actually had three bedrooms inside as well as a large living area and a small garden at the back.

The door to the yellow house opened and Sofie came rushing down the path to the car. There were rollers in her black hair and her oversized shirt flapped in her haste. Y/n knew she didn't care what her neighbours thought - she probably walked to the nearest shop like this often.

"How dare you interrupt my evening plans with your emergency call." She grinned when she came to a stop on the sidewalk.

"What evening plans? Curling up on your dirty old couch with one of your dirty old cats to binge murder documentaries?" Y/n teased in return. Her own smirk twitching in amusement.

"Yeah! Best part of my week!" They laughed at that and hugged tightly. Sofie was the first to pull away and placed her hands on her hips. "Need me to go there and kick him out?"

Y/n sighed loudly. "Yes, no, I don't know yet. I just need to think."

Sofie rolled her eyes. "That's all you ever do when it come to Lewis. Think, think, think. There's never any action - proper action to sit and communicate. Look what it's led to."

"I don't want this lecture outside, Sof. Grab something to make yourself useful." She turned to the car to open Leo's door.

"How about I grab my best boy and you can carry in the rest, yeah?" She unbuckled a sleeping Leo then scooped him up and carried him inside, cooing as she went. They loved each other greatly.

Y/n watched in slight annoyance before grabbing the bags, locking and heading inside. Staying with Sofie was always a treat. They didn't get to live together during childhood due to Sofie being a product of an affair between her mother, Devi, and Y/n's father long before Y/n was even born. Everything ended messily when Y/n's mum, LeAnn, found out and demanded he cut all contact. But it only got worse a couple of years later when Devi turned up at the house with a very young Sofie and demanded a paternity test. LeAnn was nearly 9 months pregnant.

"So, what happened?" Sofie interrupted Y/n's thoughts once they were inside and settled. She was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Oh, uh, he came home at 1 this morning instead of last night. No messages, no call-"

"What an arse." Sof mumbled into her drink.

"We argued in the afternoon about him not being around, me wanting a different life and other dumb shit we've been over before."

"Y'know, I have never heard you say that you sat down and talked things over. It's always either him starting shit at the worst moments, or you." Sofie pointed out.

"Me?? I don't start arguments." Y/n sat up in surprise.

"Y/n." Sofie deadpanned.

"What? I don't!"

Sofie rolled her eyes at her sister's denial and took another sip. Before stretching out in search of comfort. "See, this is why you two won't work. Neither one of you wants to take the blame or understand that both of you are the problem!"

Y/n stayed silent as she stroked the cat on her lap. She wasn't a problem. If Lewis just stopped doing things to annoy her then she wouldn't get annoyed and argue with him.

"I never once saw mum and daddy argue. Did you know that? Their marriage was a mess, they didn't sleep in the same bed, they rarely did nice things for each other but they never argued in front of me. I grew up thinking my family was normal.

Lewis plans these grand dates involving yachts and passports, fucks me til my soul leaves my body and gets me flowers twice a week. Yet we manage to fight almost daily. How is my marriage worse than my parents?" She was crying uglily by the end of her rant. Pathetically wiping at her wet cheeks and hiccupping to get the words out. Sofie pulled her close and rubbed her back while the cat now annoyed by the noise scurried away.

"Oh, my sweet Y/n." Her heart ached for her little sister who spent all her life trying to please people.

"We try to not do it in front of Leo or raise our voices when he's in the house but he knows. He knows something is wrong and I don't want that. I don't want him to hate us, Sof." More sobbing and coughing. Sof grimaced slightly. Y/n had always been an ugly crier but she still wasn't used to it.

"Y/n, Leo is a loving child who sees no wrong in anyone because you two raised him that way. He won't hate you for trying to hold things together for him if you have genuine intentions." Sofie sat Y/n up and held her shoulders. "But if you're really so worried about how it affects him then maybe you should divorce."

Y/n sat straighter at this. Yes, she had kind of threatened Lewis with one but she didn't really think they'd go through with it. She thought a long break was what the relationship needed then she would go back and all would be fixed. But at the same time, she wanted things to end here as they are without seeing each other again.

Sofie watched her sister absorb her words and process. Her eyebrows met and temporarily hid the scar she'd gotten when Sof threw a toy at her in a fit of rage. Blood had dribbled down her small face ruined her clothes while Sofie had burst into tears and scrambled to get their dad. LeAnn demanded Devi keep her away from the house for weeks and the girls weren't allowed to play unsupervised again. Y/n forgave Sofie immediately with a gentle hug but 30 years later, LeAnn hadn't.

Sofie had a rough childhood. Growing up with a single mother, a guilt-ridden father and his spiteful wife wasn't easy and she ended up struggling with relationships in her teenagerhood and adulthood. Y/n was the only person she could rely on and give her all to. She hated to see her suffer but more than that, she hated watching Leo grow up in the middle of this. No child deserved an unstable home and Sofie refused to allow Y/n to do so when she had the resources and support to prevent it. Leo deserved a better life even if it came at the expense of her sister's marriage.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?"

"Hm? Yeah. I just-"

"Mummy?" Leo stood by the doorway rubbing his small eyes.

Y/n made her way to him and hoisted him into her arms. "Let's go have a bath, my sweets. Then we can have a yummy supper with Auntie Sofie, okay?"

"Okay." He replied hoarsely and lay his head on her shoulder.

Once he was bathed and moisturised, Leo sat on the bed and pulled his clothes on, struggled all the way after confidently claiming he could do it himself. Y/n watched on amusement as he moved onto his socks despite his pajama pants being backwards.

"Mummy?" He took a break from his exhausting task.

"Yes, my sweets?"

"When we wake up here at Auntie Sofie's, will daddy be here?" His brown eyes shone brightly with innocence.

Y/n did her best to think of an answer without showing her annoyance at the fact that her son was so used to going to bed without his father but knowing he'd be there in the morning. She did all the hard work through-out the day, taking tantrums and accidents as they came just for Lewis to be the one to be showered with kisses and praises the next morning when Leo awoke.

"We'll be staying at Aunt Sofie's for some time, my Leo. Just you and me." He looked down sadly and Y/n could basically see the gears turning in his mind. His thinking face was exactly like Lewis' - eyes squint, lips pulled to one side, puffed out cheeks.

"So no daddy?" He whispered.

"No daddy for now, okay?" She placed a kiss on his forehead and helped him off the bed. He slowly shuffled to the dining room.

Later that night she pulled the duvet over Leo and his toys in the queen size bed. Supper had gone down without a fuss from him and now he was buzzing with excitement to call his father. Y/n handed him her phone with the contact on screen and moved out of frame.

"Here you go, press call. Yes, that one." They video called Lewis often enough that Leo knew how to handle the device so his dad could see all of him and his toys therefore he could say goodnight to everyone.

The phone rang once before being answered. Y/n smiled sadly at her husband's eagerness.

"Daddy!" Greeted Leo. He gripped the phone with two small hands and a big grin that showed every tooth and gap.

"Hello, my boy! You look nice and cozy. Are all your teddies tucked in proper?" The two went on to talk about Leo's stuffed companions, his night with Nathan and his week at school. Lewis wasn't just catching up on the day but also the week he missed. Y/n could see how happy he was to listen to Leo stutter and ramble his way through the stories. His brown eyes were bright, framed beautifully by lashes and crow's feet. His smile was wide, spreading further to laugh at Leo's jokes. But Y/n could also see how much he was hurting during this experience. His beautiful lashes wet from crying earlier, his lips slightly chapped from lack of self-care and his throat moving constantly to swallow the lump that was no doubt sitting there. It hurt her too to see him pain but she pushed it down by thinking of the many times he couldn't see her pain because he was too far from home.

"Daddy, mummy said you won't be coming to Auntie Sofie's. Why won't you come? When will I see you?" Leo's voice trembled slightly and Y/n froze. She didn't mean to phrase in such a way that Leo thought it was all Lewis' fault- well, technically it was but she didn't want Leo blaming his father. Not at this age anyways. She watches as Lewis sits in baffled silence before attempting to answer his sweet son in a reassuring way. If Y/n wasn't mature enough to not talk shit about him in front of their son then he would be the bigger person and go about this nicely.

"Champ, I promise I'll take you to school on Monday, okay? We can spend some time after school as well. How's that?" Leo smiled happily at that and Lewis felt a light weight lift off his shoulders. "Okay, well, it's 8 now. Time for bed, yeah?"

"Goodnight, daddy." Leo let his father bid him and each of his toys goodnight and then passed the phone on to his mum. She pressed kisses to his brown cheeks and left the room. She took a breath to compose herself she lifted the phone to talk to her husband. He opened his mouth but she quickly cut him off.

"You can't take him on Monday." She said sternly. His face dropped.

"Y/n, come on. No. Y/n, you can't do that to me, please. Please. You just heard me promise him that." She watched him beg with a stern expression. He looked like he was on the verge of falling apart. In front of their child he had held it all together -put on the performance of the century. But here, in front of the woman he hurt, he sniffled and grasped for straws. She wasn't impressed.

"We're two hours away, Lewis. School won't work so I'm going to let Leo stay home for the week while I look for a local school to move him to."

Lewis was shocked to silence as a tear rolled down his face. "Why would you uproot his life this, Y/n!? This isn't fair!"

She furrowed her brows at the volume of his voice. She had a lot to say about things that were and weren't fair. But before she could list them, he began shouting some more. "I- I understand that you're upset and you have every right to be but Leo shouldn't suffer because of that. You can't punish him."

"I'm not punishing him." She grew more frustrated.

"So you're punishing me?" He asked angrily, more tears.

"I'm not punishing anyone! I'm trying to make the best decision for him while dealing with everything that went down. Your house is empty because of what you did. This is not punishment, this is the consequence of your actions so maybe you should have that about Leo suffering before you ruined our marriage!" She's trembling and she's sure everyone in the house heard everything she just yelled.

Lewis scoffed before ending the call.

Y/n spent the next hour crying in Sofie's arms on the couch. She hadn't gone back to Leo's room to check on him and soothe him just in case he was upset by the call. She couldn't handle seeing him cry for his father right now. She couldn't handle being the bad guy to him. Sofie's hand on her back made it all a little easier to deal with. The purring cat on her lap didn't hurt either. She stroked its soft back gently while she sniffled and tried to find her words.

"Y/n, I don't want to make the decision for you." Sofie started. Y/n looked up into her sister's golden eyes, slightly scrunched due to the sad smile on her face. "But Leo should not be caught in the crossfire. And I know you know that."

"But I can't stay with Lewis, Sof. I can't be like mum and force my marriage to work." Y/n whispered. The thought of living with Lewis again made her scared for many reasons.

Sofie shook her head and brushed aside the black strand that came loose. "Your mum didn't force her marriage in order to create a good life for you. She did it so she wouldn't look like a bad wife to others. She wanted our dad to be the only person who wrong and immoral in the relationship."

Y/n felt her eyes tear up once more from the memories of her childhood with her mum who did everything in her power to keep things normal. Eventually it all fell apart and Y/n didn't want that for herself. She didn't want that for Leo.

"You'll only hurt Leo if you try to make yourself blameless in this situation. I don't care if neither one of you apologises and you end up dragging each other's arses kicking and screaming to every court in this country, as long as you put that sweet little boy first."

Y/n heard the slight tremor in her sister's voice and finally realised how this all affected her. All this time she'd been thinking of herself and her hate for the man she married while ignoring the bigger pain this was causing her son and sister. Her loving sister who never blamed her for being the treasured daughter in their chaotic household. Her loving sister who sheltered her from her Lee-Ann's nasty behaviour towards herself and never spoke badly of Lee-Ann in front of Y/n. Her loving sister who soaked up every miniscule second she got with her father but also happily allowed for Y/n to spend those limited moments with them.

Y/n lunged forward to give Sofie the biggest hug ever. She'd take Sofie's advice and think things over. The cat in her lap meowed unhappily at its new position squashed between the two women. They pulled away giggling.

"I love you, Sof." Y/n smiled using her sleeve to wipe her tears

"I love you too so stop getting your snot on my furniture." Y/n giggled and sniffled. "If you're really interested in the local schools, I'll give you a list of the good private ones. Too many of them are run by cunts with tight g-strings."

"Sofie!"

"What?? It's true, they wear them to keep the sticks up their arse in place." She picked up her drink.

"You're so mean, oh my gosh." Y/n laughed.

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On Sunday evening, Lewis was in the kitchen using the island as a desk for all his stuff - files, folders and his laptop. He'd even brought the printer down from the study because he couldn't stand to be upstairs while the house was this empty.

He reached for document being printed- an email from his lawyer helping him gear up for the divorce. He'd been on a call earlier with his accountant to start discussions about what would need to be done once the divorce papers were written up. He didn't want to do any of this. After the call with Leo and Y/n, he had cried himself to sleep on the couch. He had woken up very early on Sunday morning to a horrid headache and a worse heartache. As the day went on, his sadness turned to anger as he thought about everything. He refused to let Y/n make him feel this way and to take his boy from him like this. He'd then called his father who arranged to meet with him for lunch on Monday but suggested Lewis talk to a lawyer in the mean time to see what his options were. Lewis was more than grateful for his dad's support. He cherished the bond they had and the work they had put in to make everything work in the end. Y/n was well offside for the shit she had said about them, he thought. She would pay for every word that came out her mouth.

As soon as the printing machine stopped, the front door opened. His heart was hammering in his chest as he took tentative steps to investigate. He stared in disbelief, not sure what to do now.

Y/n stood at the door with a sleeping Leo snoring into the crook of his neck. Her lips trembled as she took a shallow breath.

"I'm sorry."

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Welp, now what?? This is not the end. Part 3 out soon.

Thanks for reading this far! Please don't forget to engage before you leave. (Asking to be tagged is not encouraged)

I do not consent to my work being uploaded onto another site or being altered, translated, fed to AI sites or stolen!!

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Ateez being vulnerable with a partner

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘ateez members being vulnerable with their partner’

Hongjoong Ah, the burden of being a leader. I’m sure he feels like he has to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders sometimes. Members or management might ask how he’s doing, and he’ll probably always say, “I’m good!” But if you ask after a long day, he might finally let his overwhelm show. Be gentle, because he really just needs to vent sometimes. When he’s done venting, he’ll just want to lay in bed and let you hold him.

Seonghwa As the oldest, he’s used to taking care of everyone else’s needs. I feel he’d probably not easily accept others taking care of him though. So he might be a little resistant when you do things to make his life easier, insisting that he’s thankful but you really don’t need to do anything for him. But if you catch him on a particularly bad day, he might just fold and let you take care of something for him. Like if he comes home from a brutal practice and you put a warm meal in front of him, he might become a little emotional. Please keep insisting on doing these things so he’ll get used to it.

Yunho He’s a mood maker of the group, which is great! Except that he always has to be in a good mood or everyone suffers. So, I can picture that he might become frustrated with something and have to stifle that reaction to keep the peace. He’ll probably stifle that reaction around you as well out of habit. But when he crawls into bed late at night and you ask how his day was sweetly, he might explode. You should let him, gently rubbing his back while he lets it all out. Even if you don’t have any advice for him, the fact that you listen makes him feel lighter.

Yeosang This one might be a little unique, but I think there’s something particularly vulnerable about letting someone know that you’re upset with them. It could be something small, but those little things accumulate over time and become overwhelming. You notice that he might not be happy with little things you do - he reorganizes the dishwasher after you’ve loaded it, or he refolds his clothes that you just folding. Small stuff that he bites his tongue about to keep the peace. When you ask him to tell you about those little things so you can fix them, he hesitates. But he’ll eventually come to you and say, “Can you please do it this way next time?” He might need some reassurance that you aren’t mad that he asked, but progress is progress.

San I have a hunch that he’s probably pretty vulnerable with a partner to begin with. Where I think an issue might come in is when he feels like him being vulnerable with you all the time is a burden. He doesn’t like to come home and unload all of his stresses onto you, especially when you might have also had a hard day. You’ll have to be pretty direct that it’s okay to be vulnerable with you because he also creates a safe space for you to be vulnerable.

Mingi Sometimes, certain things are hard to say. So he often doesn’t say them. You’ll find a page or two of notebook paper with some of those little vulnerable thoughts written down. At first, you thought he left it out accidentally and you apologized for reading his private thoughts. He insisted he left it out for you, and it’s a regular habit now. It lets you know when he needs a little bit of extra love, even if he’s uncomfortable directly asking for it.

Wooyoung This man is so confident 99.9% of the time. But in those .1% times, he might turn to you and ask some crazy vulnerable questions. ‘Am I attractive?’ ‘Is this hair color bad?’ ‘Do you love me?’ ‘Why do you stay with me?’ It just might break your heart to hear it, but answer kindly. May also need some physical comfort when he’s feeling like this, so baby him for a bit until he’s back to his usual confident self.

Jongho He strikes me as someone who is not as physically affectionate as others. Not that he hates it, it’s just that he likes to show his love in other ways. But you’ll know something is up when he comes home and all but collapses on top of you. It’s so unlike him that you’ll ask if he’s okay. Will not admit that he needs the physical affection to soothe whatever he’s dealing with, but you rubbing his back and running a hand through his hair will make him forget whatever he was feeling bad about.

[hydrangeapartridge]

No rings allowed on the battlefield (EmmRook short fic)

Emmrich gets injured and Rook helps ;) (no spoilers)

warning for: s*x*al allusions

It was an unfortunate accident. A stupid mistake. A clumsy fumble during a battle with a dragon. Taash and Emmrich weren’t as well coordinated as other duos Rook often traveled with, and the fight had taken them by surprise. They prevailed at the cost of a few scratches and sadly, one less minor injury.

Once the adrenaline spike dropped down like the dragon did mere seconds ago, Emmrich winced, nursing his left hand close to him, assessing the damage done to it. It was no dragon that hit him, but the back swing of Taash’s reckless but impressive last blow. The handle of their axe had crushed Emmrich’s left hand, more precisely his left middle finger, which was red and starting to swell. The ring on it, an expensive looking band of gold with a diamond-shaped emeral in the center, looked a bit battered, and mostly far too tight for the size Emmrich’s finger was growing.

The necromancer’s right hand lit up with magic and he ran it above his injured hand in a quick healing spell. However, the whole group startled when a small green crack of lightning coming from his dented ring zapped Emmrich’s valid hand, dissipating the healing spell in the process. Upon closer inspection, the emerald gem was slightly fractured, damaged enough for its enchantment to act up.

Emmrich clicked his tongue in frustration. “Of course it had to be the life spells ward…” He grumbled, annoyed and in pain as he realized he would not be able to heal himself.

Rook quickly understood the situation, and seeing Emmrich’s rapidly paling complexion and sweaty brows, she took him by the arm, urging him to sit down on a pile of rocks so she could tend to his injury before he fainted.

“I am fine I assure you” Emmrich told her, though he was not so convincing; self conscious from the attention, and feeling powerless without his healing magic. “I’ve seen worse. Worse injury at least. That was my first dragon and it is not an encounter I would like to reiterate”

Rook gently took the mage’s hand in hers as he rambled, and from what she saw, his finger had already doubled in size and was turning purple from the lack of bloodflow.

“We need to take off this ring or you’ll lose your finger” She observed. “Taash, do we have grease or butter, or anything else that could help here?”

Taash rummaged through their belongings and Rook’s too but came back empty handed. “Nah, sorry, Harding is the one who always thinks about this kind of stuff”

“I have some cream in my belongings that might help” Emmrich then remembered, having difficulty focusing when all he could feel was his blood pulsing hard in his finger. He called out to Manfred, who had been hiding during the fight, but came quickly to their assistance.

Once she had the cream, Rook applied a small amound around the ring, trying to get it on the skin under it to loosen it. Emmrich bit his lip to refrain any noise of pain when she then tried her best to pull on the ring. She tried to apply as much force as she could, until Emmrich’s hand started shaking from the pain. It was an utter failure; the ring did not move one inch, and the cream only made Rook’s grip on it slippery, making it impossible to really pull on it, even with her nails.

Emmrich’s expression was a hardly contained grimace of pain, and Rook hated to see his beautiful features contorted so. She had to do something, his finger was getting cold, they did not have much time. It was a stupid injury but it must hurt like hell.

“Don’t we have anything to cut it?” She asked Taash but they shook their head. Rook tried preparing a controlled fire spell, but the second she approached her alite finger, the ring zapped her, making her wince and extinguishing her magic.

“Maybe we should cut the whole finger and then he’ll stitch it back with necromancy” Taash offered, but Emmrich did not approuve.

“I’d rather it would not come to that” He said, dejected.

Having a dead finger in the middle of such a refined hand was admittedly not enviable. They could do better. She needed to help him. Find a solution.

“Please don’t hate me for this” Rook told Emmrich when an idea struck her, eyes begging as they met Emmrich’s sad brown ones.

She did not give the necromancer time to think before she gripped his hand tighter and brought it to her mouth. In a swift motion she swallowed his middle finger, getting down on it without hesitation.

Emmrich choked on a half-pained, half-mortified whimper of a breath. Rook, whom he barely knew, had her lips tightly wrapped around that one particular finger, mimicking an entirely different situation. He couldn’t look away from her expression of concentration as he felt her tongue poke and swirl around his ring, caressing the skin in a way that felt as painful as it was soothing. He soon felt her teeth carefully joining the mix, trying to get a grip on the stuck piece of jewelry.

He instinctively tried to take his hand back, but Rook held it firmly in her hand while she worked, her eyes closed, her long eyelashes brushing her high cheekbones.

Emmrich felt the tip of his ears, as well as his neck heat up, his collar suddenly too tight, when Rook hollowed her cheeks and sucked on his finger. Her mouth was so warm he felt dizzy from it. He barely repressed a moan of relief when the ring finally gave in, and Rook pulled away from him with a 'pop' and a victorious humming sound that was delightful to the ears.

He watched flabbergasted as she spat the ring onto her opened palm, then covered his face with his right gloved hand from the embarrassment of the whole situation.

“Damn. That’s a skilled tongue you got! Could rival Isabella’s” Taash commented, genuinely impressed. They whistled, only aggravating Emmrich’s feelings.

Rook chuckled nervously, her own cheeks flushed from the effort and maybe something else. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Emmrich’s face so she focused back on his injured hand. With the ring out of the way, she performed a simple healing spell, and in a few seconds, his finger was back to normal size and colour.

When she looked up, Emmrich’s brown gaze was on her, grateful but strained, and a bit wild too from this impossible situation.

Rook leaned back, putting some distance between her face and his. She felt hot. Why was Rivain always so hot?

She handed Emmrich his broken ring back without meeting his eyes. “Here, I hope you can get it fixed”

“I will try. It was a gift; I shall be sad to part with it” He said, gently taking the ring and twirling it in between his long pretty fingers.

Rook wondered if the person whom he received it from was still part of his life. And how important they were to him. She wondered if he left someone treasured behind in Nevarra, but didn’t dare ask. Nor did she permit to comment that he should consider wearing less jewelry when traveling around the wilderness; for practical reasons. She stayed silent, simply glad that he was fine.

“Thank you Rook” Emmrich’s soft tone finally coaxed her into looking up to his pleasant features. “You truly are a very … resourceful young woman”

Rook felt herself flush again. “Anytime” She replied in a whisper between the two of them.

Back at the lighthouse, Taash felt the need to tell every other companion how Rook tended to Emmrich’s delicate ring situaiton. She thought she would die of embarassment, but in the end, it only became a funny anecdote, soon forgotten by the group.

She did not however forget the beauty of Emmrich’s hands, and the intensity of his gaze on her. The more days she spent in his company, the more she decided that yes, she could be convinced to go down onto the professor again, anytime he wanted.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

If it’s not too much, may I request how Coffee views everyone. He one of my fav skeletons u write

Undertale Sans - They're friends. Coffee likes Sans really much actually as Sans is always calm and knows how to deal with him when he's too anxious. He feels safe around him and regrets he can't hang out more because Wine doesn't like him.

Undertale Papyrus - They're close friends. Coffee is struggling to follow Papyrus' energy sometimes, but Papyrus is extremely patient and works hard to include him in everything he wants to do. Papyrus is also a bit mischievous and likes to drag Coffee into trouble. Coffee usually completely forgets his anxiety when he's hanging out with him.

Underswap Sans - He's often hanging out with Blue when he's hanging with Papyrus. Blue is less patient than Papyrus, but he tries to hold back when Coffee is around. Coffee can tell that's because his brother is a little like him and so he knows how to deal with the constant anxiety. Honey is also one of his best friends so he sees him a lot and they grow closer.

Underswap Papyrus - Coffee and Honey are best friends. When Coffee is not home, most of the time, he's hanging out with Honey, Rus or Ben. Everything seems natural with Honey. They're both artists, and they both like movies, comics, and animals. They can just hang out in bed for hours in complete silence and still have fun. Additionally, he doesn't need to talk all the time and can be understood even when he can't speak. Honey also likes to cuddle and don't think it's weird Coffee is lacking affection so much. They're just comforting each other.

Underfell Sans - Coffee likes Red, even though Red is not always nice to him lol. But sometimes he gets scared outside and Red is sometimes the only one that looks a bit like his brother so Coffee feels safer hanging out with him. Added to that, he knows even if he acts like he's annoyed, Red actually likes him and often asks his brother how he's going when he doesn't show up for a while. Red is a big softie, he's just hiding well.

Underfell Papyrus - He sees Edge as a sort of role model. He's big and strong and confident, and Coffee would love to be like him one day. Well, that's not ready to happen, but at least Edge doesn't push him away, far from that. Edge is actually nice to Coffee and patience. He doesn't know why, but Coffee awakens his protective instincts. Edge is not huggable though, which frustrates Coffee a little.

Horrortale Sans - His second dad, quite literally. When Coffee has troubles, he runs to Oak for help because Oak has adult energy. He's older, so he knows what to do when he messes up big and doesn't know what to do anymore. Oak doesn't mind, he likes having him around. Oak also likes to talk shit about Wine and learns things to Coffee that he knows Wine is going to hate.

Horrortale Papyrus - They're good friends. Coffee likes hanging out with Willow because he is way less energetic than Blue or Papyrus. Willow also taught him how to cook and Coffee is always excited to help when he comes to the farm.

Horrorswap Sans - It took him four months to notice Blue and Nugget are not the same person, despite, you know, the missing arm. He always wondered why Blue was colder sometimes, but now it makes a lot more sense. He still likes Nugget, even though something doesn't seem quite right with him.

Horrorswap Papyrus - He loves hanging out with Pumpkin, but it's best if there's someone to supervise them. Usually, when they're all alone, one of them will have a panic attack somehow which he's going to make the other freak out and have a panic attack as well. They love painting together though, and the fact Pumpkin can't talk is kinda making Coffee more comfortable.

Horrorfell Sans - They grew closer since he's always hanging out in the farm. Coffee likes that he's calmer than Red and a little more gentle. He's like a calmer version of his brother which doesn't want to take control of the whole world, which helps him to take a break from Wine from time to time.

Horrorfell Papyrus - Like Pumpkin, Coffee is weirdly obsessed with Chief. He doesn't know why, he's comforting. Maybe that's because he looks scary even though he's in a wheelchair and Coffee knows he can count on him to defend in case something bad happens. Or maybe Chef has butterfly pheromones that attract Swap Papyruses, we'll never know.

Swapfell Sans - Nox makes him uncomfortable, mainly because he's always fighting with his brother and tries to manipulate him to go against Wine. Coffee doesn't like he thinks he can't think by himself and even though he hangs with him a lot because of Rus, he doesn't like him.

Swapfell Papyrus - Rus is one of his best friends. He never gets bored when Rus is around. They took a long time to warm up to the other, but watching their brothers' shenanigans got them closer. Rus awakened Coffee's chaotic energy he didn't know he had. He's also a terrible influence and drags Coffee in his machiavellian schemes to ruin people's day. They got in trouble together a million times and they'll do it again. You know what they say? Opposites attracted. They both have literally opposite personalities and they can't get bored of the other.

Fellswap Gold Sans - That's his brother. Coffee loves him and still sees him as his role model, even though life on the Surface taught him Wine hid a hell lot of things from him. He desperately wants Wine to understand he needs more independence and to start a new life now, but Wine is not ready to let go yet.

Outertale Sans - They don't know each other that well. They met once or twice when he hung up with Sun, but that's all. He seems nice though!

Outertale Papyrus - They're friends, but they don't see each other often because Sun is working a lot. But they enjoy the small moments they can be together, even more since they both love painting.

Dancetale Sans & Papyrus - All Coffee knows is that apparently they're famous and pass on TV sometimes. He never met them though, or maybe saw them once or twice from far away.

Dancefell Sans - They're friends, even though they don't see each other a lot. He likes that this version of Red has anxiety like him. They have actually a lot of things in common. Except for the dance. Coffee hates dancing. But he likes watching his friends do it for the both of them.

Dancefell Papyrus - They're friends... He thinks? He's not sure. Tango is weird. Sometimes he acts like their the best friends ever, and sometimes he completely ignores him to talk with his TikTok fans... Coffee is not sure what's their relationship or even if what he thinks of him is really sincere or motivated by views. He has mixed feelings about this.

Farmtale Sans - He's family. Coffee is pretty much always hanging in his house or with his brother, and Sam is just happy his brother has someone to talk to. Sam is always there when Coffee needs it and doesn't hesitate to scream at Wine when he does something that makes his brother anxious. Coffee confesses easily to Sam when he doesn't feel well and he's glad to have his support whatever he does.

Farmtale Papyrus - Ben and Coffee are pretty much brothers at this point. They're always together, it's rare when they don't see each other for more than two days in a row. They have similar personalities and they warmed up pretty much immediately because they like the same things. Ben is also a lot more anxious than Coffee, which he didn't think could be possible, so he sometimes has to make choices for both of them, which is very new for Coffee. They're helping each other to heal from past traumas and they're so happy they have each other to gossip at 3 in the morning.

Mafiatale Sans & Papyrus - His brother asked him to stay far away from them, and just staying two minutes in the same room than Creeper told him Wine was right and to not interact. They're scary.

Mafiafell Sans & Papyrus - They kidnapped him once to piss off Wine and Coffee and decided he doesn't like them. Fang is nice to him, but Torpedo is a jerk, he's mean and he scared him on purpose. He hates them, he doesn't want anything to do with them and he's still mad at his brother for letting them do that to him.

Ink - They're friends, he thinks. He's not sure honestly. His brain struggles to understand what's the matter with Ink. Blue is already hyperactive, but Ink is at a whole another level of hyperactivity and he struggles to follow him. It doesn't help that Ink forgot him several times in different AUs, like this time he had to run for his life, chased by a T-Rex Papyrus who wanted to eat him alive. He's not a big fan of traveling with Ink.

Error - Accidentally got caught by Error once and that was the worst time of his life. Error threatened to erase him if he didn't tell where was Ink, but he really didn't know where Ink was and just cried in fear for two hours. Eventually, Error got bored of him and released him, and Coffee promised to never stay in his way again lol.

Disbelief Papyrus - They're close friends, it's no surprise to anyone. He's a calmer version of Papyrus, and so Coffee feels safe around him. Delta is also a good hugger, and that's good because Coffee doesn't like that he looks so sad sometimes.

Killer Sans - They're friends, but Killer acts a little weird sometimes and creeps him out just a tiny bit. Coffee doesn't trust him entirely because he has a very high LV and he knows that makes monsters unstable. But at the same time, Killer is funny and knows how to make him comfortable. Coffee knows he lost his Papyrus too and so he's nice to him because Killer calls him Papyrus sometimes and looks really regretful. It never for long, but Coffee can tell he's not feeling well.

Dustale Sans - They have a relationship for sure. What type though? No idea. Dune is just standing there, holding his hand, making him very uncomfortable. Sometimes he sniffs him too. Coffee is not sure if it's positive or if he wants to eat him. Probably a little bit of both. That's both scary and fascinating.

[pinkhor1zon]

i find comfort in you

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: idol!woonhak x non-idol gn!reader

warnings: nothing but woonhak is playing ow.

word count: 0.6k words

maia’s note: little drabble bcuz it’s woonhak day!! he’s 18 now.. he’s growing up so fast :(( i love unak so much and i hope he has a great day filled w/ lots of love!! also this work is NOT very good and isn’t really proofread but it is cute. enjoy reading!! reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩶

after a long and exhausting day, this is just what you needed.

there you laid in woonhaks embrace, watching him struggle in his current game of overwatch. “aghh!!” he frustratedly groaned at the screen. him and his team had just lost the objective.

you giggled, observing his reactions. his lips were sealed in a pout and his eyebrows were furrowed together.

“what? is my frustration funny?” he said, keeping his eyes locked on the television.

you smiled, still looking at him, “yes, very.”

he let out a scoff and you ruffled his hair. the whole week you two hadn’t been able to spend time together. he is, of course, an idol preparing for his next comeback, and you’re a student, a hardworking one at that.

you both found passion for your respective careers, that being what bonded you together. but sometimes, this passion can be too strong. and more often than usual, you both become extremely burnt out.

woonhak’s game finishes with a loss and he falls back into the couch, you still in his arms with your head resting on his shoulder.

he isn’t his normal self. usually, when he loses, he’s more dramatic about it and performs some act like falling to his knees or reaching out to the tv screen, but he doesn’t do that. seeing this, you definitely know it’s because he’s too tired.

you hum, “that was a good game.”

he sighs, “it wasn’t. i’m so out of it.”

he looks at you and your faces are just inches away. looking at him like this; you see the dark circles under his eyes and the droopy corners of his mouth.

“woonhak..” you pause until he gives you a look that signals you to continue. “you can talk to me about anything okay? your worries are mine, and even if you don’t want that, it’s uncontrollable.”

“but i don’t want to be a burden to you.”

you give him a reassuring smile, “you could never be a burden to me.” you take his hand and carve little hearts on it. “let’s make a promise. whenever one of us is feeling exhausted or upset, let’s tell each other. we can be each other’s escape, hm?”

he nods, “okay.” woonhak sticks out his pinky finger and you entangle yours into his, locking your promise.

after this he pulls you closer to him, into a full hug. he snuggles his face into the side of your neck and mumbles something. you pull away and look at him with confusion. “what is it?” you ask.

woonhak responds, intertwining both your hands together, “nothing much. i just find comfort in your presence; you in general.”

your face warms up and you smile, but it turns more into a grin.

his cheeks flush, “hey! why are you laughing?”

you shake your head. “you just,” struggling to get the words out from your laughter, “you’re too cute hak!”

woonhak wasn’t a big fan of being called cute, but when you say it, it’s the best compliment he’s ever gotten—especially with that nickname.

“hey.. you can’t just say things like that.” he says, turning his head the other way so you couldn’t see the huge smile on his face.

you notice this and turn your head in that direction so you can see him face to face, leading you both to start bursting with laughter.

“you can’t say anything! i saw you cheesin’!” you say in between laughs.

“no..” he replies, trying to stifle the laughter.

days and weeks go by as woonhak does his idol duties and you go through the school cycle. but throughout those times, you stand by each others side; holding the others hand through it all.

please DO NOT copy, repost, or translate.

[gayfertilitygoddess]

[text in screenshot:

“Worldly people”, G. K. Chesterton mused, “never understand even the world; they rely altogether on a few cynical maxims which are not true.” And so it is for huge regions of the American ideological landscape when asked to explain the meteoric rise of Donald Trump in 2016, or his seemingly implausible return last week.

Far-left radicals, socialists, liberals, centrists, old-fashioned conservatives, academics, mainstream journalists, and everyone else who simply cannot imagine voting for the man themselves, all tend to default to one narrative: Many Americans are struggling economically, left behind, urgently wanting a more egalitarian society, and turned to a fascist movement in desperation. Bernie Sanders summed up this conventional wisdom succinctly; Democrats lost because they “abandoned the working class.”

Like many, Sanders had moved away from this narrative after 2016, and particularly after 2020, working closely with the Biden administration to pass the most economically progressive legislative agenda in two generations. During the same period, empirical research added its voice—study after study found ‘racial resentment’ a far bigger driver of support for Trump than ‘economic anxiety’. Neither Trump’s core support, nor the drift of formerly Democratic voters to him are well explained by economic desperation.

Like many cynical maxims that are not even true, it is kept aloft on a cloud of smaller, equally persistent, falsehoods. There is a trope that most Americans work ‘paycheck-to-paycheck’. They don’t. The median American has savings. Politicians on both the left and right love the rhetoric of Americans working multiple jobs to get by. In reality, less than 5% of the labour force does so (and that includes upper-class professionals like a lawyer who does consulting on the side).

Nor is it what voters themselves say: The average American thinks democrats are far too liberal. They see the party as to their left on both economic and social issues. Only 6% said they thought Harris was not liberal enough. This is not an electorate crying out for socialism, turning away from Democrats because they haven’t seized the means of production.

Finally, the narrative (hereafter called the ‘poverty narrative’) often assumes an outdated (and decidedly masculine) vision of a frustrated proletariat of laid off coal miners, quite at odds with the reality of life for most working Americans in the 21st century. The 23-year-old barista serving you coffee at Starbucks, who lives with roommates in a small apartment, who doesn’t have job security, or the ability to pursue her goals in life—she most likely did not vote for Trump. The electorate has undergone class realignment, but exit polls still show the lowest income Americans preferred Harris.

/end]

Pulling these later paragraphs out for emphasis:

As much as anything though, [the poverty narrative is] a morality play, one that emerges from our implicit frameworks and subconscious assumptions. Consider it in parallel to other explanations of the election: ‘it was a backlash to woke/cancel culture’; ‘young men are sick of feminism’, ‘the Democrats weren’t civil about Trump supporters’; and ‘Democrats shouldn’t have campaigned on trans rights.’ Notice that in all these narratives voters moving right are not granted any agency. They are just reacting to something liberals have done. As a result, liberals are implicitly assumed to bear responsibility for the outcome.

I call this ‘what did you say to make him hit you?’ politics. The implication is intentional: We tend to perceive both liberalism and the Democratic party as female-coded—the result of decades of heavily gendered use of language by conservatives. This filters into our assessment of moral responsibility (which is also gendered), in which we offer explanations for the bad behaviour of male-coded groups and shy away from direct condemnation. We are asked to ‘understand’ the perspective of those who shift to the right and cautioned against ‘dismissing’ them. Long narratives are concocted in which explanation fades into excuse.

[smoochi-march]

Headlock - Imogen Heap

Fields of Mistria | March x F Reader

Summery | Anxiety on an all time high, you confront March during his work. Taking the step forward to make him yours, you request for him to join you to attend the Shoot Star Festival with you. Will he accept? or will he turn you down as he has with any other attempt to bond?

Warnings | Minor Swearing, Anxiety, I haven't written in almost two years, do be patient if it's poorly done.

Work count | 2310

Distant flickering, its greener scenery,

This weather's bringing it all back again.

Great adventures, faces, and condensation,

I'm going outside and take it all in.

Two pairs of eyes meet, lowering your chin hastily with a hand pressed against your chest. Grasping the fabric of your clothing while struggling to breathe, the tension was so heavy you could cut it with a sharpened blade.

You stood before March, crudely interrupting his work while clutching a device in your spare hand, cloaked behind your form. You were hiding it from his judgmental gaze. Lord, you despise how fearful you found yourself beneath his analytical eye, how he’d eat you up with a glance. Reading your intentions from a mile away, for somebody who insisted on disliking you- he sure did have a watchful eye on you at all times. Or was it that he truly couldn’t avoid it because you always visit him while he’s on the job? Hell, outside of work he couldn’t seem to escape you, or your name for that matter.

“…”

He’d raise a brow, expecting some sort of response. A greeting, yet he received nothing. That hardened glare softened as you lowered your head, confused by your actions. Ultimately, he’d press his hands deeper into the pockets of his apron. The wind swept through their figures, his red bangs shifting to cover his eyes temporarily before he murmured beneath his breath and took a step closer to you.

“…Did you come to waste my time? You've got a knack for breathing down my neck.”

You’d suck in a breath, raising your slouched figure to look him in the eye, for a split second you’d see his hardened glare falter. There you stood tall, rolling your shoulder back in an attempt to appear more confident, but he could see right through you. Why exactly were you so tense? Had he done something wrong? Have you finally opened your eyes to how poor of a person he is to hang around? He had his suspicions. Despite this, his narrow gaze would widen. Pursed lips and a flushed expression are all he is met with before you press something against his chest.

Pressed against his chest was an invitation, a silent proposal to join you for a well-known event in Mistria. The Shooting Star Festival.

You say too late to start, got your heart in a headlock,

I don't believe any of it.

You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,

You know you're better than this.

“-…just say no.”

March heard your choked whisper, lost for words. He had several suspicions about what your arrival may have been for, but inviting him to such an event was far from what he believed would escape your presence. Do you know what this entails?

You were often chipper, always willing to lend a hand despite his cruel treatment towards you. He intended to keep you at arm's distance, but, it backfired and seemed to ignite some sort of flare beneath your feet. He’d tell you to leave him alone, you’d return with his sheets from the request board, a toothy grin apparent in your features. You almost walked off without the reward on several occasions, selflessly aiding those in town, no, him in specific. Were you attempting to get on his good side? What for? It frustrated him, he hated you. No, he hates you. So why is it he can never forget your greetings each day? The praise, the complaints, every word escaping those lips of yours.

The crease of your forehead when you'd pout and furrow your brows, playfully smacking him whenever he'd say something sarcastic. How your nose would scrunch up at the smell of the alcohol he downed each Friday night at the Inn with everybody.

We're a different pair, just something out of step,

Throw a stranger an unexpected smile.

With big intention, still posted at your station

Always on about the day, it should have flown.

“-Please! Fuck, March. It’s yes, or no. I- I shouldn’t have come here. But…”

You couldn’t stand his silent treatment, you were previously so excited to ask him to be your partner for the Mistrian Tradition. One that allowed those of Mistria to gather around with friends, family, their significant other… what even were you both? You wanted to believe you were friends, but, March was still so distant. You hardly knew him, and that’s what led you here. You wanted to learn about who he is. Attracted to him, the way he’d focus so heavily on his work. The way his muscles would tense up after a repeated swing of the hammer, the sweat dribbling down his chin from the heat. You fantasize about him more than you’d like to admit, wishing nothing more to see who he is at heart.

“Say no? Why’d you even come in the first place? Shouldn’t you want to hear me agree?”

Yes, you wanted so desperately to hear those words he withheld from you. Still not saying either of the options you intended for him to say, god, he was frustrating. So frustrating you could cry.

“…Of course I do!”

You’d raise your voice, taking a step closer to him. The space between you closed further, forcing him to shift back as well uncomfortably. Did you intend to get this worked up over someone like him? There were plenty of others who would’ve loved to receive this brooch from you. Balor, Eiland, Ryis... hell, even Celine or Reina. For the love of god, why is it him? Why are you here?

“…Why else would I be here? Just as you said, it wouldn’t make sense. But, I came anyway! Hoping that for some odd reason, you’d accept me despite..."

He'd notice your body tense up along with your lips visibly trembling, anxiety sent like ripples through your body. Tides crashing against the shores of your fragile heart. You were strong, and he admired that, from a distance. Standing here with the ability to openly ask him to be your partner for the festival. Something he was never capable of doing,

"Despite?"

He'd inquire further,

"You're going to make me say it..?-"

You'd curse under your breath, weakly allowing the words to slip from your tongue.

"-d-despite your clear disinterest towards me..."

You say too late to start, got your heart in a headlock,

I don't believe any of it.

You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,

You know you're better than this.

That was his intention from the start, to prevent you from seeing through him. Brushing you off, pushing you away, and nudging you in the direction of others far kinder than him, people who understand how to treat you right.

Why is it that his consciousness weighs itself down with guilt? The guilt of his treatment toward you, the guilt and outright refusal to admit when he's in the wrong. How his heart would ache each time your excitement died down over time, that cute smile faint, like a kicked puppy whenever he shot down your requests to hang out together.

He couldn't allow any sort of attachment, not when he knew you'd leave. He was confident you would, averting his eyes from the clear signs of your settlement at the farm you built up from blisters and bedrock. He wouldn't admit his feelings. The warmth in his heart at the sight of your passing figure each time you made your way through town, stopping by the forge just to say hello and part ways, he grew accustomed to your visits. Missing you when you'd show no sign of life, busy elsewhere with your life. Missing the way strands of hair stung to your glistening skin, soot and dust kissing your cheeks from hours in the mines.

Your clothes soaked from diving in rivers for artifacts, he noticed it all. Shifting positions with you at the anvil in order to stand near the fire of his forge preventing any chill, or further cold in winter, without a word of course. Maintaining his nonchalant disposition, knowing his true intention wasn't for you to move out of his way, but to warm up next to the crackling heat. Dry those clothes of yours, fearing you'd grow sick and not show up the next morning.

Afraid to start, got your heart in a headlock,

I don't believe any of it.

You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,

You know you're better than this.

The tension wouldn't let up between the two of you, deciding it was best to take your leave, you'd whisper something so meek he struggled to catch on.  

"...I really shouldn't have gone through with this. I'm sorry, March."

You felt utterly ashamed, humiliated by his silence, it wasn't a no- neither was it a yes. Should you be happy? No, your anxiety wouldn't settle down. Unable to accept being turned down, unable to celebrate his acceptance... left in the dark. Eyes glued to the ground, holding back tears.

Your hand would fall from his chest, fingers wrapped around the brooch weakly. Ready to pull away, you'd suddenly gasp as his hands would clasp around your own. Forcing you to hold the brooch back against his chest. A stray tear made its way down your cheek as you'd blink,

I'm walking, you've been hiding,

And you look half dead half the time.

Monitoring you, like machines do,

You've still got it, I'm just keeping an eye

"F-fine. I'll go with you."

March couldn't stand the sight of your tears, he knew he had been a complete jerk recently. He didn't enjoy behaving that way, but it's all he knew how to do. A way to cope with his insecurity, you were beautiful, talented, smart, and most importantly... Kind.

"-Olric will definitely badger me if I say no."

He'd then follow those words with a hushed grumble, closing his eyes and lifting his head. His cheeks flushed now, similar to your previous expression.

"-Quit crying, I never said I wouldn't go."

His hand wouldn't budge from your own, the warmth of your fingers brushing against each other. The comforting pressure was so foreign to him. His hands were significantly rougher, calloused from his line of work. Not that yours were dainty either, one look and they told a story of all your efforts to build your farm from what had been given to you upon your arrival.

I've been walking, you've been hiding,

And you look half dead half the time.

Monitoring you, like machines do,

You've still got it, I'm just keeping an eye

You still hadn't spoken a word since he agreed, somewhat irking him. Is this how you felt about his silent treatment? No wonder you raised your voice at him.  

"-Look who is silent now... I'll go with you, alright? Just, don't let it get to your head. I- hate the idea of leaving you on your own after you put so much thought into... asking me. That's all."

Still sticking to his excuses, he wouldn't pull away. Allowing you to collect your thoughts, feeling your gaze rise up once more. You worked too hard towards this for him to turn you down, he couldn't do it.

"March, I- You don't have t-"

You'd feel him squeeze your hand, forcing your mouth shut. Was he doing this just to please you? Before your anxiety could haunt you any further, he'd rip the brooch from your hand and lift the back of his hand to shield his mouth. Throwing his head aside with an averted gaze. His blush is still visible.

"Shut up, I said I'd go. I'll see you at eight. Tonight. Got it?" He was excited. Thrilled at the idea you wanted him to accompany you. Would he express that openly? No. Ignoring the flutter of his heart, the constant uneasy pound in his ears.

You know you're better than this

Come back and start, got your heart in a headlock,

No I don't believe any of it.

You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,

You know you're better than this.

Your lips would part, only to close once more. Smiling, finally, a reaction he enjoyed witnessing.

March had a way of making you lose your ability to speak, but it only worsened as you'd feel a weight plant itself on the top of your head, forcing your head down, losing sight of him. Your face lit aflame with blush. March's eyes scanned around the pair of you, sighing in relief. Nobody's eyes were capable of witnessing what his next actions were. Allowing himself to indulge in his desire to comfort you, his hand began making claw motions in your hair, massaging your head for a moment. Just as you'd scratch the head of a cat.

"-Don't be late."

He'd then pull away, feeling the warmth in his heart becoming unbearable. He'd abandon you at the forge, in a rush to do something inside it seems.

"I- I won't!"

You'd shout back in the hopes he heard you, a bright smile blooming on your face. Unsure whether he heard you or not. Not that it mattered, you got the answer you desired. All that anxiety from before washing itself away as you'd look at your hands, reminiscing about the way he held your hand.

You hadn't expected him to suddenly pat an scratch your head like that, not that it was unwelcome. Perhaps, he cared more than you initially thought... or was it you just confirmed a suspicion you had believed in for seasons now?

March has begun to warm up to you, and you couldn't be happier to see the signs firsthand.

Afraid to start, got your heart in a headlock,

I don't believe any of it.

You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,

You know you're better than this.

[uhhhitsme]

24, 29 and 32 Curt?

-24- best memory

i think he would tell himself its the berlin mission in 1956. i haven't nailed down any of the details for what went on DURING the mission exactly, but it would entail owen doing something crazy stupid for curt, and the two of them emerging victorious and covered in blood and more in love than ever. it solidified to him the idea that together, they're unstoppable, and eased some of curt's anxiety about whether or not the ocean of feelings curt has for owen is matched.

but really, it was something from earlier in their relationship---june of 1954. owen had gotten himself decently hurt on a mission---not serious enough that curt was afraid for him, but serious enough that it couldn't be ignored. curt insisted on patching owen up, and unlike every other time curt has had to take care of him, owen let him do it without a fight. and there was this moment where curt looked up from his work, halfway through a passionate speech about why it was essential that he keep a bottle of whiskey and a bag of chips in his medkit, and caught owen looking at him with eyes full of light. and for a moment, he was overwhelmed with the knowledge that owen had trusted him with this. trusted curt to take care of him. let curt see him at his most vulnerable.

after, when they went to bed. owen kissed him in the gentle, comforting way that he typically reserved for when curt was hurt, or when thought curt was too out of it to notice. curt read him to sleep, and then stayed up for hours---heart bursting with an emotion so indescribable, so impossible it made his head spin. the kind of feeling you get falling.

-29- quirks and personal habits

curt paces a LOT. not just when he's stressed---literally whenever he feels too much about anything, happy or frustrated or thinking about owen. when he can't pace, he bounces his leg or clasps his hands together so tight you can see the tension running through his arms.

during the winter, he gets dry lips, and he never can stop himself from picking them. he refuses to use lip balm (partially because of toxic masculinity and partially because he hates how it feels).

he has really poor volume control and often doesn't realise when he's being too loud (which made stealth training hell for him when he first started out.) he also gets really really loud when he's excited/afraid.

he sings to himself to get earworms out of his head. depending on the song, it either drives owen bananas or is ridiculously endearing

he listens to a lot of radio, even if he doesn't particularly enjoy it.

he hates quiet, and avoids his apartment like the plague

he hasnt changed the hair product he uses since he was recommended it by a girlfriend in high school

-32- toxic traits

massive inferiority complex that results in him doing very inadvisable things for the sake of trying to prove his own worth

very easily jealous---falls under the whole inferiority complex thing a little, but he can get really bitter when he sees others praised, especially in areas he takes pride in (like spying)

he's constantly trying to present this sort of hypermasculine effortless suave persona, and as a result, can be a dismissive asshole when he thinks he's letting too much of his emotion show

on that note, he doesn't handle vulnerability well. like At All. which, tbf, neither does owen

oftentimes abrasive and just a little bit self-centered, sometimes gets way too caught up in his own shit to pay attention to others needs (although he tries really, really hard with owen)

i feel like theres a word for this, but that thing where you do things without fully conceptualizing the potential consequences of an action until they're staring you in the face. its gotten him into way too much trouble

has a very black and white worldview and........doesn't fully see a lot of his enemies as human, or feel empathy for them. he's very stubborn about what's right and wrong

HE'S LITERALLY A SPY FOR THE US GOVERNMENT WHAT ELSE DO I NEED TO SAY

mind you these are the biggest things off the top of my head. there's probably more. love this terrible freak <3

[knifegremliin]

@ last reblogs. i really don't mind some comments about being short, but the vast majority of the jokes are just frustrating and not funny. i genuinely really do like being short. i would NEVER want to be any taller than i am. but really it often feels like i have to be in order to be taken seriously. in order to be seen as anything other than "aww cute little tiny boy uwu" or "haha short little baby man lmaoo". like go fuck yourself tbh.

[whatudottu]

What do you get when, after you worked so hard Changing the first time, you're forced into a body that isn't yours and your have to stare at the person you used to be while regressing and battling against a new worse kind of dysphoria?

Being a cunt honestly :P

aka loopsabeau is a dick to isabeau as a version of 'killed them so i could live' but killing a timelooper is not permanent and really it's more satisfying to be the person they BOTH hate