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eyesaremosaics · 1 year ago

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Confronting the shadow self is daunting. I feel so overwhelmed by all the things that are wrong with me… on one hand I have grown exponentially—and changed for the better! However, in other areas I have gotten worse. Mainly my deep seated anger (that surfaces at inappropriate times), and also my inability to regulate my stress responses.

What ends up happening is that I bite off more than I can chew and become overwhelmed. As a people pleaser, I have a tendency to take on more than I can handle, and it takes a toll on my nervous system.

Trying to sit with these feelings. When I am sick for example (which doesn’t happen very often), I get REALLY sick… and then I snap at people, become very short with them and have a bite to my words. This is because I am in a lot of physical pain, but I should just call in sick and prioritize my self care instead of subjecting others to my bad moods. I always say “YES I can do that”, “sure, no problem!” When really I should put my foot down and say: “I’m not feeling well, I need to stay home and rest today”.

By forcing myself to work, I am not only making myself miserable, but also making everyone around me miserable.

Sometimes I come home from working with children… and just cry because I know I failed them that day. I FAILED as a caregiver. This happened a few weeks ago. I was getting stressed out because it was getting late, and the little guy needed to get up early for his first day of school the next day. I was getting snippy with him, and he told me: “Megan, when you get mad at me, it makes me want to cry.” I felt like the most horrible person in the world. I broke down and started crying. Telling him that he was right, and how sorry I was. I explained to him that I was just exhausted from working too much, and that it wasn’t his fault, and he absolutely did not deserve it.

I cried because I don’t do it on purpose, but at times I feel powerless to stop it.

My mother always used to yell and my siblings and I… because she was so overwhelmed with her life… it did a lot of damage to all of us. Don’t get me wrong—I love my mother deeply. She made my childhood magical in many ways, and I have a lot of respect for her. She had a hard time of it when we were growing up (as sole bread winner or single parent a lot of the time) and she did the best she could with what she had. I suppose that’s true of all parents.

Some days you feel good, you know you made a positive impact on a child’s life, and some days you know you (unconsciously) did damage. We are only human after all. My mom feels terrible about how she yelled at us. It must be genetic, because my grandmother admitted to doing it too when she was younger.

It has made me reevaluate whether or not I want to be a mother one day. I am good with kids actually, they love me almost immediately and I get along great with them because it’s so easy for me to become a child again and play with them on their level.

Growing up poor does something to your psyche. You end up with this “scarcity” mindset that I just hate. I realized that I eat so quickly (which is horrible for your metabolism btw) because I was 1 of 4 children—if you didn’t eat quick during dinner, you didn’t eat. Always feeling like there is not “enough” to go around, always starving for more love or attention (because you had to compete all the time to get it).

Seeing all these things so clearly now. The antecedent moment is known to me, but the way forward is not. I have been “catching myself” in the act of bad habits and trying to reshape my behavior. I’m grateful to my mom for teaching this to me too. She was always the first to apologize to us when she was wrong. She was humble and took accountability, which showed us that grown ups make mistakes too.

I remember confiding in my grandmother about how much “mommy yells”. My grandma told my mom what I’d said, and my mom really took it to heart. She would take deep breaths and count to ten before unloading on us. I remember actively watching her try to change, and she did eventually.

I hope that I can manage to do the same, and that the damage I have done to people I love is not too great to be healed.

Trauma is not an excuse. You don’t get an excuse to treat people poorly. Though I know… I have a good heart. I would never hurt ANYONE on purpose. I know myself at my core, and the core of my heart is very loving and compassionate. So now is the time for me yo be more compassionate with myself. By understanding where these wounds come from, I can catch myself and pivot my response. I can also apologize and say: “I’m sorry, I am working on managing my stress better, please let me try that again.”

A month ago, my boyfriend, my cousin, her girlfriend and I all went up to Mendocino. Yury (my boyfriend) manages 62 acres up there for the scouts organization he volunteers for. Usually we camp or stay in the cabins, ride around on the ATV’s, toast marshmallows, swim in the creek etc. It was a fun weekend, until the accident.

My little cousin, is my cousin through marriage. When I was a freshmen in high school, she was just a baby at 2. We went together like peas and carrots. I saw so much of myself as a little girl in her, and I felt very protective of her. Her parents were both tweakers, so they were mostly absent. My grandma, my grandpa and I all had a hand in raising her. She grew up to be a good kid, but I was concerned to hear from her girlfriend that she was very reckless at times and made dangerous impulsive decisions.

Basically, what happened was a long chain of events that I won’t detail here (because it will take too long to flesh out), was that after warning her all day that the ATV was not a toy, that she needed to go slower on it, she didn’t heed my warning and flipped the ATV over with my boyfriend riding in the passenger seat.

My cousin’s girlfriend and I were in the cabin listening to music. She asked me if I heard anything, but I said it was probably just the music. Then we heard it again, we opened the door and went outside. We saw my cousin running up the path screaming “help! The atv flipped over! Yury is trapped underneath it!”

My boyfriend was pinned under the ATV. Adrenaline kicked in and I thought for sure he was dead. I didn’t want to believe it. I was terrified. The next thing I remember was hearing him screaming in pain. My brain relaxed slightly, to hear he was still alive. Now time to asses the damage. I tried to lift the ATV on my own, but no way, it was too heavy. The girls all started pushing from different sides in their panic, which was grinding the roll cage further into his leg.

He screamed in agony. I told the girls: “on three we need to lift at the same time girls ok? One, two, three!” We somehow managed to lift it. First just to release his leg. I looked over Yury to make sure no vital organs or anything were crushed in the crash. Thankfully it was just his ankle and his foot.

Somehow we managed to push the ATV back on to its wheels, so it wasn’t leaking fuel on the ground. At this point the full blown shock and panic set in. I ran to the first aid to try to find bandages, but I was panicking so much that I was looking but not able to read words. I was kicking the boxes screaming “I’m looking but not seeing”. My cousin came in and said; “why don’t you let me do that?” At which point I rounded on her and started screaming “why did you do that?! Why did you fucking do that?!”

I was so furious. I went up in flames. I must have looked possessed. Her girlfriend told me that my screaming wasn’t helping and to pull the car around so we could load yury in.

The situation was critical. It was the middle of the night. We were in the middle of nowhere, no cell reception, and the closest hospital was a hour away. Not to mention we’d all been drinking. I told them: “I can’t drive, I’ve definitely had too much to drink.” I certainly wasn’t going to let my cousin drive after the accident she just caused, thankfully her girlfriend had stopped drinking hours before and offered to do it.

We had to drive into town 20 minutes to get cell reception so we could find an ER. Willits said it was closed. So we had to go all the way to Fort Bragg on these foggy, windy roads with deer jumping out in front of the car—which wasn’t even my car by the way, it was my bosses car. All while Yury is screaming in pain in the back seat.

We almost blew up the car by accidentally… by turning the ignition on while it was pumping gas. Thank god we turned It off in time. More stress.

It felt like an eternity until we got to the hospital. I kept screaming over and over how stupid this was, blaming my cousin and asking why she ignored my warnings all day and thought she could Tokyo drift the ATV like that. To be fair, my anger was justified, she almost killed my boyfriend. However, my yelling and screaming like a lunatic was not. On the drive I managed to calm down, and just focused on helping her girlfriend use the controls on the BMW.

I knew that I needed to just shut up and stop yelling, because I was doing damage. It was better for me to not talk to my cousin because I wanted to kill her at that time. It would be different if I hadn’t been warning and lecturing her all day not to drive crazy on it. Then it would have been on us. However, her eye rolling and dirty looks whenever I said anything about it, and the blatant disregard soon as she was out of range where I could see her—led to the situation we were in.

Granted we had all been drinking, so no one should have been driving, I didn’t say she could, I thought Yury was going to do it. He mostly smokes weed, and is a very safe driver. He’s the only person I trust to drive my car. He blames himself for letting her drive, and truthfully he shouldn’t have let her. However, she is one of those people who doesn’t look drunk when they are. She doesn’t slur her words, or stagger, she looks and talks normal.

She begged Yury to let her drive it, and he relented because “she looked so excited like a little kid” and he wanted her to have fun. He also thought she would go slow in the dark. We were all about to turn in for the evening when this all went down. Yury didn’t even have time to tell her to slow down before it flipped.

We got through it, but Yury is out of commission for months now. He fractured 4 bones in his foot, and he may need to see a specialist to reset the bones or put pins in some of them. He can’t walk, shower, go anywhere or do anything without help. This has put a lot of strain on me, as I already work multiple jobs, and have very little free time as it is. Of course I’m happy to do it and help him, but it has exhausted me. I basically have no time for self care.

He can’t work, so the responsibility to pay all our bills has fallen on me. He manages to scrape rent together with the little remote work he can get done, but everything else (groceries, pg&e, gas, etc) falls on me, and I don’t know if y’all have noticed—but shit is expensive now.

I worked a crazy amount of hours in August. 60-70 hour weeks. Didn’t have a day off for 3 weeks straight between all my jobs. Though I am grateful for the work, grateful that I make good money, not having any free time really wears on you after a while.

Hence why I was getting snippy with the kids. Not an excuse, but it is the origin. Not to mention my cat Persephone of 21 years literally died in my arms… I had quite a bit of trauma compacted into two weeks. To top all of this off, I gad a terrible session with my therapist of the last 5 years, which I think concludes our working relationship.

I told my therapist about the accident, and at the time I was very angry still. The day after the accident, I apologized to my cousin for yelling at her, but expressed my concern that she has these reckless behaviors, and that I hope this will serve as a wake up call for her not to do things like that in the future. She looked at me like she hated me and said: “yeah, ok.” And got in the car and left.

My therapist started in on me, about how I’m actually not taking accountability as I said I was. She rounded on me saying that I’m still saying it’s all her fault, which in my opinion it was, not to mention I was still mad. I think I had every right to be mad, Yury and I have over 4 grand in medical bills that we can’t pay, not to mention the fact that he can’t work, and I have to work double shifts to pay our bills. All because she ignored what I had been telling her all day long. I would not have let her drive the ATV. True, Yury shouldn’t have let her drive, but it was such a relatively short distance, and had she been driving normally, none of this would have happened.

I know it was an accident, I know she didn’t do it on purpose. Yet ultimately, she is refusing to take accountability for the part she played. She did not apologize to Yury, she had not called to ask how he’s doing. Nothing.

She ran to my grandmother and basically painted it like Yury and I told her she could do that, and made all these excuses for her behavior —which is just infuriating. All you had to do, was apologize, check in on Yury and maybe offer to help him out a little while he heals. It’s not that hard. Yet again, for some people, apologies are hard. She wasn’t raised with repentant parents, she never learned how to do it.

My cousin told my grandmother that our relationship is permanently damaged because I yelled at her. That my apology was too late. My grandmother said: “she looked up to you all her life, and you crushed her when you yelled at her.”

Apparently she was hurt in the accident as well, bruising on her side. I didn’t know she was hurt, had I known I would have made sure she went in to the hospital to get checked out. I wrote her a long letter apologizing for telling the way I did (again), but expressing why I was driven to that point and hoping that we could talk and resolve this when she’s ready. I told her I still love her, and always will, but I hope she makes healthier choices in the future. She never responded to my letter, it’s been over a month now.

I remember what it was like to party with a death wish. I was there at her age.

I remember what it felt like to want to chase oblivion, because the pain inside was catching up to you and you had to keep running or it would devour you whole.

I feel so heartbroken about the whole thing. The dissolution of my relationship with her, my anger toward myself at not having control of my rage, my fear for Yury that his leg will never heal right and he may not ever be able to hike or do any of the outdoorsy things he likes to do again…

To return to my therapist, it felt like she was taking my cousins side (just like my grandmother which also devastated me, as my grandmother has been my favorite person since I was a baby), and that I was crazy for being angry and upset that she almost killed my boyfriend.

People can’t always control how they respond to trauma in the moment that it occurs, but we can control how we respond after. My therapist continued to imply that I yell at people the way Yury yells at me sometimes. Not true. I yell because that was modeled to me by my parents, and I attract partners who model this dynamic to me and I live it out unconsciously. I told my therapist that in the moment, I felt like I had no control over my panic and anger. She replied very condescendingly: “how scary that must be for you. That you can’t control it.”

She also insinuated that I shouldn’t be a mother. I know therapists are supposed to challenge you, but they are not supposed to leave you feeling suicidal after a session with them. I felt personally attacked, none of it felt constructive.

Truthfully, things have been feeling off for the last year or so with my therapist. She dropped hints about “making our sessions more infrequent” and talking about ending our sessions when my healthcare runs out. This was the final nail in the coffin that showed me she doesn’t have any respect for me as a person, and honestly doesn’t want to be working with me anymore.

That’s fine, it’s time to move on. She wasn’t a great therapist anyway, I just used the service because it was what my insurance would cover. It stopped being beneficial to me years ago. She did help—I think—or at least it helped to have someone to bitch to once a week.

I had a therapist before her… that I really loved. In 2016 I started seeking therapy because my whole works fell apart during my Saturn return. I lost my home, my job of 7 years, my long term boyfriend who I thought I was going to marry… I lost my best friend. Then a mass exodus of friends taking her side and leaving me too. It was one of the darkest times in my life. I was starving, unable to afford food.. it was a nightmare. My therapist at the time was really amazing , and in the short time we worked together I made more progress with her than anyone else I had seen.

She was spiritual, used to do tarot with me, as well as reiki healing etc. she helped me see myself and the world in a whole different light. It was a Shane we had to part ways because my insurance wouldn’t cover her, and I couldn’t afford to pay out of pocket. I was going hungry so I could see her. I wish I could find that therapist again.. she told me once: “You have been through an abnormal amount of trauma for someone your age, and it’s impressive how resilient you are. Most people with backgrounds like yours, end up on the streets using heavy drugs.”

I’ve been rambling for hours… but I guess I just needed to get this all out. Since all these recent events unfolded, I have been working really hard at taking deep breaths and monitoring my stress levels.

Also I recognize how much I complain, and I think a little gratitude practice would be good for me.

I have a lot to be grateful for. I have work, both my jobs are pretty kush in spite of the crazy hours, I have my health, thankfully my health issues subsided in 2021. I have a home, in a city and a neighborhood that I love. I did a lot of traveling in the last 2 years, I have my family with me, I have good friends. I have creative opportunities coming my way. Yury is still alive, I could have lost him. Thankfully he will heal eventually, and things will go back to the way they were. I have self awareness, which means I can change, and I have love in my life. Lots of it. I need to remember that, when things get tough.

#me #self improvement #stream of consciousness #digital diary

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itshyuka · 1 year ago

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Hi! Do you mind if I join the teacher convo?:D I was studying to be a high school english and biology teacher at uni a few years ago. In my fourth year I had an insane burnout because we didn't get any support during the pandemic (also the education system went to hell due to politics) so I decided to take a break and put my studies on pause. I started working at a language school where I was overworked and underpaid (they reaaaaallly took advantage of the fact that i didn'thave my degree yet), but my students were amazing and I genuinely enjoyed it, and it actually gave me more experience than any classes at uni. I ended up quitting because of the overworked+underpaid part, and now i'm self employed and teach online, and I love it so much!!😭 I also managed to get back up from the burnout and planning to go back to study, although I will switch to linguistics, I don't think I could join the school system now, I have some real horror stories about my peers doing their internships during the strikes://

Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher? Is it what you'd expected? Also if you could change something about the school system to make it better (for students OR the teachers) what would you do?

It's so excited to see other young teachers!!! Most of my peers switched to something completely different, I think only one person actually graduated from my department 😔

Anyways!! Wishing you a lovely day, thank you for letting me unload all that, didn't know I needed it 😅💕💕

you can unload whenever you want!! happy to listen! especially if it’s about teaching hehe

so sorry to hear that that happened to you!! burnout is the worst…… I never felt quite the same after my first ever burnout. Glad you’re back in a much better mindset 💖 also yes to linguistics!!!! such an interesting field of study.

i’ve also heard my fair share of horror stories unfortunately… so I totally understand people like yourself who don’t want to enter it. it’s such a shame the education industry is rife with all kinds of crappy happenings.

anw um i’ve always known i’d end up in the teaching field sooner or later!! but of course it’s not what younger me expected it to be now that i’m actually a teacher. it’s so much more work behind the scenes than i realised. makes me appreciate some of my favourite teachers growing up a lot more. also it’s so emotionally draining esp when you get a class that doesn’t care 😭

something i’d change??? huh. smaller class sizes comes to mind first. students deserve more personalised help!!! but smaller class sizes means we need more teachers…. and that’s a tough ask when we get piss poor pay for the amount of stress and work we go through (esp in the public system!!) 💀 the overwhelming lack of respect for teachers is also so tough….

i think overall though i’d love to go into education policy down the line and advocate for much better support for teachers. bc better supported teachers means better supported students. like uh increased PAID planning time for one bc bruh ive spent too many nights unpaid and then guilted if i even think of claiming it as paid work… also better access to resources for ALL schools too. like equipment, facilities, textbooks and wifi.

sorry I could go on and on, and i do rant about this topic to a mate in education policy all the time HAHAHA but of course politics is messy and schools are businesses 🙄🤢 this is just my essay speed run. thanks for asking 💖💖 i always love connecting with fellow educators!!! bc i got into this industry to support people and who better to support than other fellow teachers (and also the kids of course) hehe

#another short essay!!!! do i ever shut up about teaching!!!!!!#hehe thanks for joining in 💖#educator friendly spaces 🫶#its also really funny to think that i have middle and high school followers here #who are probably really apathetic towards their current teachers #i see u and im sorry u dont enjoy school!! its v tough for everyone #inbox

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zichqecs-hoard · 1 year ago

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Oh I see 🤔 Hmm... yeah, messing with the reload commands can be a little fiddly, in my testing anything after a reload like that does not display. If I do eh...”\![reload,shell] shell has been reloaded” in script input, I can see “she” type out, and then the shell reloads and the rest is cut off. I think because these commands are probably expected to be used in a debug way?

You could consider having the alternates as completely separate shells instead, and locking it off so that the user can’t switch between them manually (though if you did that, you would need some additional code to prevent switches from the ghost explorer as well, if manual switches are undesirable). That way you could just give each shell its own menu in the first place, and not need the shell reload command.

The downside being, I think the blip would be more noticeable that way, and you would also need code to make the new shell loading in move to the same position that the other shell was when it was unloaded. I’ve done it before, it’s not impossible, but it is a bit of a pain 😅 If you did it that way, you could chain the balloon change command onto OnShellChanged.

That’s probably not ideal unless you’re really desperate though, I imagine it’d be difficult to switch over everything you have to deal with a multiple shell system depending on how far you are into it.

Another thought... you could set a variable in the OnSwitchMenu function like shellchange = 1 (and in that case, I would recommend changing it to an \![embed] tag rather than an embedded element, just in case the user cancels the script before it finishes executing. Or, you could use \t in the changing script to prevent the user from cancelling!), and then in one of the events that fires after the shell reloads, like OnNotifySelfInfo, check for that variable, and if it’s 1 set it to 2. Then in OnSecondChange, if it’s 2, change the balloon and reset the variable to 0. (Notify events can’t run scripts on their own, but if you don’t mind a 1 second wait you can shunt it off to OnSecondChange. It’s not my favorite method, but it’ll work in a pinch. You have to be careful with OnSecondChange though - under almost no circumstances do you want to end up outputting a script every second; it’ll interrupt your balloons and make the ghost unpleasant to use.)

That idea is definitely janky 😂 You could also try a timerraise (that’s timer raise, not time raise) command after the reload command instead, if you don’t mind waiting a second or two, and have the event that it raises change the balloon. That may come with its own kind of jank (can’t guarantee how long it’ll take the shell to switch in all environments), but it may be worth testing out to see if it’ll suit your needs.

But by far I think the most solid method, at least for changing the balloon, would actually be to combine your balloons into one. A lot of my ghosts have done this lately, where each balloon has multiple color options combined into a single balloon, and I use OnTranslate to change the balloon tags appropriately (but only if the ghost is currently on that balloon). SSP Angel is a good example of this! They go a bit overboard with the customization, in your case it should be a lot simpler. It should be as simple as an if check to make sure your custom balloon is being used, like if SHIORI3FW.BalloonName == “Aster Tooltip”, and then a check for which mode the ghost is in, and a set of replace commands if it’s in the mode with the alt coloration.

That method has a few benefits, primarily that it makes the script more straightforward so the balloon change always happens, and it cuts out any loading time for the balloon. And with OnTranslate handling the color changes, you can keep writing balloon tags as normal. (Side note, I do not recommend trying to use embedded elements for this instead. I used to do that with tags like %(b2) and %(b4), but then I found out that if I asked my ghosts to repeat the last dialogue just after I changed colors, they’d use the wrong one! So I let OnTranslate handle it now.)

I suppose eh... the problem is it’s difficult to have the reload shell command and a balloon change command in the same script and guarantee it’s not going to behave strangely. So I think the best solution, if you’re able to, is to eliminate one of those, and combining the balloons would do just that. But if that doesn’t suit your needs for whatever reason, maybe those other methods will work 🤔 just test them thoroughly, I suspect they would be plagued with issues of their own 😂

Ooh wait, I have one other idea. Have you considered using a change shell command, and simply switching to the same shell that you’re currently using? I think that would still have the effect of reloading it, but you get the benefit of the OnShellChanged event firing! That way you could set a variable, do the change, and then have OnShellChanged check if that variable is set and perform the rest of the change/dialogue on its end. \![change,shell,%(SHIORI3FW.ShellName)] should change you to the current shell, no matter what it is (uh, these SHIORI3FW variables I’m using assume you’re using YAYA and not AYA, since they come standard with YAYA specifically. I’m guessing you’re using YAYA if you’re using my guide, but I’ll make the note anyways.)

SORRY THAT’S A LOT but hopefully at least one of those things is helpful 😂

I think I can with certainty say I'm past the halfway point with this. there's not that much random dialogue left to make up

I can only hope the switch works as intended on other computers, since a different timing left them mid-transition. it seems like it doesn't interrupt the bubbles switch but it's only if the menu switch/shell reset comes at a specific point before it 🤔

sakurascript is really weird with calling functions, but I Think if you call it as a variable ( %(function) ) it doesn't interrupt the script?? maybe??

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Two gifs showing off Vega complaining about the messiness of Windows' system32 folder, providing the user with a link to open it and see for themselves, and the right click context menu changing its color scheme alongside Vega switching to Rigel.

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#003 #Ukagaka #//thought process at like 3AM:#//Hm should I post this on my formal art blog or my reblog blog #//I wonder if there's a chance my name will be recognized 🤔 I'll use the reblog blog to be ??? less intimidating?????#//zi you donut your name is also in the url of this blog and PEOPLE WILL NOTICE...#//oh god people are seeing me in places and recognizing my name WHERE HAVE I GONE WRONG #//aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa 🙈 I am very glad my guide has been helpful!!#//Also yeah about the thing with the variable changes in embedded elements #//Changing variables through script input is super great!!#//The problem is uhm... *specifically* in functions where there are multiple possible output scripts and only some of them are supposed to #have the variable change #//Because the weird thing about embedded elements is that any time the function that contains them runs #//All of them run whether the script they are in is picked or not #//So if you have like... 100 dialogues in randomtalk and just one of them has a %(variable_change)#//Every single time the ghost says an idle dialogue the %(variable_change) is run #//And you can see how that would result in unintended behaviors! It's a very common bug #//Because wanting a variable to change in response to a dialogue is common #//But that behavior of embedded elements is not at all intuitive #//And it's not explained in very many places #//Embed tags and raise tags are great for such situations though!#//It's 6AM I hope this is coherent 😂#//Would be happy to talk about ghosts another time tho!! 😊 Always happy to chat about em and excited to see more people making em #//And especially seeing folks get creative with YAYA!

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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

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Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-�� You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

Text

Tender

Jiang Cheng can feel his pulse pounding behind his eyes. He has been stressed more than normally at work, with how his father simply keeps unloading all of his own work on to Jiang Cheng, without caring if he can manage it or not, and with the headache Jiang Cheng’s mood has plummeted like it hasn’t in a long time.

He snaps at everyone who steps foot into his office that day and in the end his father comes by to specifically tell him very sternly that he’s more than disappointed with Jiang Cheng and that he expects a better behaviour on the next day.

Jiang Cheng has half a mind snapping at him, too, but in the end he clenches his jaw and simply nods.

His father leaves without another look back and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually feel like putting in over-time that day, so he simply gathers his things and leaves.

His mood doesn’t magically improve when he comes home, even though Thyme and Garlic weave around his feet as if it’s their sole purpose to make him feel better, but the headache only marginally lessens.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure that it’s about to be a full on migraine and he couldn’t care less for that. He hopes he can get it under control somehow before it makes thinking too hard.

Jiang Cheng decides to go to bed early that day—maybe sleeping it off will help him—but before he goes to sleep he has to give Garlic and Thyme their treats. It’s not their fault that he’s in a bad mood, after all.

They come running as soon as they hear him opening the cupboard and Jiang Cheng gives one treat to each of them, before he relocates to the living-room to make them work for it.

Everything is fine in one second, and in the next Thyme is making a noise as she staggers around on three legs.

“Thyme? Baby?” Jiang Cheng tries, and watches in helpless horror as Thyme walks backwards, not putting any weight on her left front paw, before she hides under the table.

She only stays there for a moment though, before she retreats into a safer corner, and Jiang Cheng already fears the worst.

She does take the offered treats, but she doesn’t come out and Jiang Cheng still sees her favouring her left front paw.

“What happened?” he asks and carefully takes the paw in his hand, but Thyme pulls it back and then curls around it.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes start to burn, because it’s clear that Thyme is hurt, even though he has no clue how it happened, and he doesn’t know what to do.

It’s late already, and he’s not sure if this warrants a trip to the emergency vet or not, and so he decides to wait.

Thyme is skittish but she does leave her hiding spot at one point and limps through the apartment. She eats and she jumps up on several high places, even though she doesn’t seem to know how she’s supposed to get down from them again and every time that happens, Jiang Cheng bursts into tears again.

It’s objectively not that bad; Thyme lets him touch her and her hurt paw, and she is still moving, albeit carefully, and she’s even eating and purring when he picks her up, so it simply cannot be that bad, but when she walks it’s clear she’s in pain and Jiang Cheng hates to see it.

And with how his day has been going, he really can’t help himself but to cry as he watches her limp around, because he is honestly in no emotional state to deal with this.

Jiang Cheng decides to check on her during the night a few times and then call the vet first thing in the morning and he does feel a little bit better with that decision, but it still doesn’t help the tears that are still flowing down his cheeks.

He just hopes his headache doesn’t get worse.

~*~*~

His headache of course does get worse, and Thyme doesn’t get magically better over night. He slept like shit, jerking awake at every sound in fear it’s Thyme and that she’s in more pain now, but she mostly slept on his stomach that night.

Her limp is more pronounced in the morning—as is Jiang Cheng’s headache—and so he calls the vet as soon as he can.

They tell him to come in at noon and Jiang Cheng decides to sleep his headache off until then.

He swallows two painkillers and goes back to bed, but when his alarm goes off, his headache turned into a full blown migraine and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do.

He is always nervous when he has to drive with Garlic and Thyme in the car—worried that he’ll have an accident and get them hurt—and he doesn’t trust himself to drive with the steady pounding behind his eyes at all, but he needs to get to the vet to get Thyme some treatment and he doesn’t know what to do.

He’s in too much pain to even think about being ashamed when he bursts out into tears again, and there is only one place he can think of to go.

So he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door.

“Holy shit, what’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang greets him with when he opens the door and it only prompts Jiang Cheng to cry harder.

“I need help,” he cries out and Nie Huaisang is nodding before Jiang Cheng even says anything else.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Thyme is hurt, but I can’t drive like this, but I have to be at the vet soon and I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry about this, but can you drive me?” he gets out between his tears and his heart falls when Nie Huaisang grimaces.

So he doesn’t have time, that’s just Jiang Cheng’s luck.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang yells into his apartment and Jiang Cheng’s eyes get big.

“What are you doing?” he hisses through his tears, his heart already beating faster and this confused state is no help at all with the tears or his headache.

“I have a meeting in half an hour, but da-ge has the day off. He will drive you,” Nie Huaisang resolutely says and Jiang Cheng shakes his head but stops when that only makes it worse.

Nie Huaisang knows that he has the worst crush on Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually want Nie Mingjue to see him like this.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asks and his eyes go wide when he sees Jiang Cheng. “What’s wrong?” he asks more frantically. “What do you need?”

“His cat is hurt and he needs a lift to the vet,” Nie Huaisang sums it all up for Jiang Cheng, and Nie Mingjue nods before he finishes.

“Of course,” he agrees and honestly, Jiang Cheng is too relieved to feel much shame at all in that moment.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I can’t drive like this and Thyme is limping and I don’t know why and I just need to get to the vet,” Jiang Cheng rushes out and he only relaxes when Nie Mingjue puts a steadying hand to his shoulder.

“Breathe, Wanyin. Of course I’ll drive you.”

“Did you call in to work?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng goes cold with horror.

He completely forgot about that.

“Don’t panic!” Nie Huaisang rushes out, clearly able to read Jiang Cheng’s face. “I’ll call Wei Wuxian and he can just pretend you told him this morning and he simply forgot to tell your father. Jiang Fengmian will believe that,” Nie Huaisang says with a nod and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it might work.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says. “You go do that. Wanyin, did you get Thyme into her carrier already?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“We’ll do that first then,” Nie Mingjue decides and gently pushes Jiang Cheng towards his own apartment. “I’ll gather my things, and you try to get her in there, okay? Can you do that?” he softly asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

Thyme is limping and in no state to run away from him. He’ll just be able to pick her up and put her in, no problem at all. He can do that.

And he does, with minimal fuss even, and he’s kind of glad it’s Thyme and not Garlic who needs to go to the vet. He would be bleeding all over if it was Garlic, he knows that from experience.

By the time Nie Mingjue knocks at his door, Jiang Cheng is ready to go with Thyme in her carrier.

“Alright then,” Nie Mingjue says and carefully picks up the carrier, waving Jiang Cheng off when he moves forward to carry her himself. “You’ll need to give me the address to the vet.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng mumbles and then his eyes start to burn again. “I’m really so sorry to bother you,” he chokes out yet again, because he cannot believe that this is his life today and he really doesn’t know how to deal with any of this.

“You’re not a bother, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue reassuringly tells him. “I’m happy to help you.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what to say to that and so he stays silent as he allows Nie Mingjue to lead him towards his car.

“No,” Jiang Cheng rushes out when he sees that. “We can take my car. You don’t have to take yours.”

“Of course we’ll take mine, come on,” Nie Mingjue gives back and doesn’t allow Jiang Cheng to argue about this.

Before he knows it, he’s already in the back of the car, Thyme’s carrier carefully buckled in and Nie Mingjue is driving, following the instructions of the navigation system.

The drive is a silent one, mostly because Jiang Cheng is still in too much pain to hold a decent conversation and Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

“We’re here,” is the first thing he says during the ride and Jiang Cheng looks out of the car window.

They have arrived, but what Jiang Cheng mostly notices is that there’s no free parking space for them.

Nie Mingjue seems to realize that in the same moment.

“Do you have my number?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head in confusion.

“I’ll tell Huaisang to send it to you. I’ll park somewhere else and you’ll just call me when you’re done so I can pick you up again,” he decides and Jiang Cheng never knows how to deal with kindness, but especially not today.

“You really don’t have to,” he chokes out, his eyes dangerously watery again, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“Of course I do,” he easily gives back and Jiang Cheng can do nothing but nod.

“Fine,” he agrees and gets out of the car when Nie Mingjue pulls up at the side. “I’ll call you,” Jiang Cheng says as he takes the carrier out of the car as well and Nie Mingjue gives him a thumbs up.

“I bet it’s not that bad, Wanyin. She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Jiang Cheng mutters and then closes the door before he steps into the vet clinic.

He doesn’t have to wait long and everyone is kind enough not to mention the more than obvious tear tracks on his face for which Jiang Cheng is grateful.

He gets a text a few minutes after Nie Mingjue dropped him off; it’s Nie Huaisang forwarding him his brother’s contact details and Jiang Cheng tries to ignore the flutter of his heart as he saves the number in his phone.

This was not how he ever imagined to get this number, but he’s not going to complain about it. Not that he’s ever going to use it beyond this day, either, but before Jiang Cheng can delve too deeply into that spiral, the vet calls him in to tell him the diagnosis.

It’s stupidity. Thyme got diagnosed with stupidity.

She actually has a sprained paw, but since it happened on plain ground in the apartment Jiang Cheng has lived in for more than two years already, it cannot be anything else but stupidity.

The vet doesn’t even do anything besides giving him some pain meds for Thyme that she’s supposed to get once a day.

Jiang Cheng can’t believe this.

He’s out of the clinic before he realizes it, and dialling Nie Mingjue’s number.

“Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng hums.

“We’re done,” he tells him.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

It doesn’t take Nie Mingjue more than two to come and pick Jiang Cheng and Thyme up and he seems to realize that Thyme is not seriously injured because he smiles at Jiang Cheng.

“It’s not so bad?”

“It depends,” Jiang Cheng says with a frown at Thyme. “It’s just a sprained paw, but what’s really worse is that she’s too stupid to walk straight without getting injured,” Jiang Cheng says and his stomach does a funny thing when Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

Jiang Cheng settles into the back of the car again, wanting to be close to Thyme who doesn’t seem as stressed out as she normally is, and now that all the worry about her finally falls off him, Jiang Cheng’s migraine comes back with a vengeance.

He groans softly and closes his eyes, and he must have drifted off because the next thing he knows is that they are back at their house.

“You alright?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng jerks with the question, which causes him to let out a painful groan. “Do you have painkillers at home?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods, even though he doesn’t think he should take any more today.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng whispers as he climbs out of the car, Thyme’s carrier in one hand. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“No problem at all,” he promises him and then leads Jiang Cheng to his door.

“Did you eat today?” Nie Mingjue asks as Jiang Cheng fumbles with the key and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

He was too worried to even think about eating, and with his migraine he doesn’t think he’s about to change that now.

“Let me make something light for you. You have to eat at least a little bit,” Nie Mingjue says, and walks into Jiang Cheng’s apartment before he can protest.

Garlic meets them at the door, clearly anxious to have Thyme with him again and Jiang Cheng is quick to get Thyme out of the carrier.

She’s still limping and Jiang Cheng remembers the pain meds the vet gave him. It’s probably time to give that to her.

It’s a liquid painkiller and getting it into Thyme is easier than Jiang Cheng feared it would be and soon enough she’s limping away from him, clearly eager to hide and rest for a while.

Jiang Cheng watches after her and he can’t help the relieved laugh he lets out because besides some stupidity there’s nothing wrong with his cat.

“Hey, she’s alright,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says from behind him and tugs him around with a hand on his shoulder. “She’s fine.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng sobs out. “She’s just stupid,” he mutters and then he leans forward to rest his forehead on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. “I cannot believe she was diagnosed with stupidity,” he says again, because really.

She’s a cat, for heaven’s sake. How she can sprain her paw while walking is beyond Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng lets out a relieved giggle and he’s aware that the events of the last few hours are all catching up to him now, but he can’t help it.

And Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind at all, seeing as he’s currently pressing a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng whispers, but he doesn’t dare to move in fear that Nie Mingjue will stop and never do it again.

“You’re exhausted,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering him. “Come eat something and then go to bed. You need some rest.”

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks as he pulls away from Nie Mingjue and he’s not prepared for the tender look on his face.

“And when you’re feeling better, let me take you out for dinner. On a date.”

Jiang Cheng blushes at that—which really only makes his migraine worse—but he nods.

“I would like that,” he admits and Nie Mingjue cups his face in one hand and presses another kiss to his forehead.

“Good. But now food and rest. Clearly you need both,” he decides and Jiang Cheng allows Nie Mingjue to guide him towards the kitchen, were a simple congee is waiting for him.

He does get drowsy after he ate—not even the migraine enough to keep him up anymore—and he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes up, Nie Mingjue is gone, and Jiang Cheng would chalk it off to a particularly vivid dream, but when he picks up his phone there’s a message waiting for him.

Barring any more cat emergencies, dinner is still on if you want. Call me when you feel better.

Jiang Cheng immediately dials his number, because he does feel very good. Especially about going to dinner with Nie Mingjue.

Yes, believe it or not, my cat got this very diagnosis today. A sprained paw out of pure stupidity. The only difference is that I didn't have a migraine, but also no Nie Mingjue :(

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #cats #modern au #getting together #jc really does not have it easy that day

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ignisnocturnalia · 4 years ago

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I think I've figured out how I want to write these (Exposition/mini story, when relationship is established HCs actually start) based on a previous statement I made, also ANOTHER REQUEST! All headcanons are placed at the back of the story part. Let's get this ball rolling!

Crow x Reader

"Now, if he ever flies too far from the nest?" Spider leans forward, "Boom." Your stomach made a flip at the kingpin's explanation, and you've never been more uncomfortable to have your Ghost out in the open. Some part of your mind is saying 'Who cares? That's the man that killed Cayde', but another half is saying 'He has no idea. It isn't fair to judge him for something he can't remember'.

That meeting had happened an hour ago and you couldn't get his dumb gray face out of your head. He looked so.. sad. Regardless, having a Ghost rigged with explosives did not sit right with you at all. Spider wanted you to help him with his Wrathborn problem? Sure, alright. When all of this was over, you knew exactly what you wanted your payment to be.

One large change about the new light that you've found impossible to ignore is diminutive he is. His commentary after successful hunts and small chats after a lure upgrade is administered are curt. Even more surprising is his willingness to present mercy to the corrupted Fallen. He is nothing like Uldren.

Acknowledging this division between his past and present self is when you start to realize that you like working with him. A lot. Probably more than just work, but will you admit it? No. Besides, you tell yourself, he really doesn't look like he's searching for a relationship while figuring himself out.

Petra often asks why you've taken to visiting the Tangled Shore so frequently now, and everytime you scramble to spit out an answer, something stupid like "Spider has a good deal running right now". In some part, it's true, since when you're not hunting Wrathborn you're showing Crow how to do Guardian stuff and explaining Last City life to him. His calm and curious demeanor is extremely cute, and the velvet sound of his voice does not help.

When Spider has both of you run point on a mission you always look to the rafters of the building to try and see him or listen for his steps. He's annoyingly good at stealth. The only time you ever had to be stealthy was in the Gorgon's lair and the Pleasure Gardens. You wish you could speak to him unfiltered; if Spider ever discovered your crush he wouldn't let you hear or see the end of it.

As the months dragged on and you came closer to catching the High Celebrant, you caught yourself anxiously wondering what lie at the end of it all. What if Spider didn't let you take him? And if he did, would Crow stay with you or do his own thing? Greedy little thoughts ran through your head as you thought of all the times you shared together, both of you visibly happy in your eyes.

As much as you'd like to live a runaway life with him and hope he felt the same, you knew it was wrong. He'd get restless, and you'd start fighting. Whatever he chose to do, is what you would let him do. Osiris has taken notice of your feelings, and the knowing glances he gives when no one else is looking sets your face on fire, acting like he doesn't have a thing for Saint always writing those letters when he's on death's doorstep; dramatic is what you say.

Soon enough, all of your close friends can tell you like someone, but they simply can't figure out who. Ironically, the day you work up enough courage to ask him to be your partner is the same day he pins the location of the High Celebrant. The morning is tense, and just getting ready for the big fight is sending energy through your body. Crow, on the other hand, seems much more grim. It makes sense, really; you're the one who's been slaying gods over the years.

You're guard is quickly brought up when Spider summons you for a talk in the main room. You listen to his next words with a fierce intensity.

"Do not let him so close, or spoil him with pretty dreams. Kill the High Celebrant. Break Xivu Arath's hold over my Shore, and you can claim any prise in my lair as your reward. You'll have earned it."

Hiding a smile, you nod and make your way to disembark on your mission; looks like you won't have to ask.

The Dreaming City was as mystical as ever, and you vaguely wondered if Petra had seen you come in. Making quick work of the scarce Hive, you found yourself in Harbinger's Seclude. The massive Cryptolith was impossible to miss, and a full body shiver racked you as you approached it. This was it.

Stabbing the lure into the roots, Crow's voice filled your comm channel.

"Ha! Tagged it! It's bleeding energy and on its way back to you." Your heart jumped at his excited tone. Nobody had any business being that cute. The trademark screech of a Hive portal drowned out all noise, and your next big fight ensued.

The next period of time was spent chasing the Celebrant through realms, until, that is, it sealed the last portal. Osiris had given weak condolences, but you weren't going to give up on Crow. Not today! The blight high above you twinkled teasingly as frustrated tears swam over your eyes as you attempted scrambling up the large Awoken statue, just barely missing the hand and falling back to the ground uselessly.

The silence was becoming overwhelming, deafening, even. Osiris continued to tell you to return to fight another day, but he was too important for you to just leave behind.

"Maybe there's enough Hive magic left in the lure to find another way through!" For once, your Ghost didn't parrot the obvious; you almost wanted to kiss him. Turning around with a new fire, you thrusted your lure into the crystalline floor over the last trace of the High Celebrant's blood. Sure enough, platforms much like those of the Dreadnaught revealed themselves over the edge of the bridge.

You wasted no time, racing over every gap and closing in on the blight. Palpitations overtook your heart when Crow's voice returned to the feed, spewing some kind of death message. Death wouldn't take him. Especially not if you had anything to say about it.

Jumping through the portal, you recognize the bitter feelings of anguish. This is exactly how you felt when Sundance's light washed over the Prison of Elders. Not again.

By the time you see the High Celebrant, all you're seeing is red. Faintly, you remember how Drifter said the Hive in the system were scared of you; good. They should be.

Bullets fly and the ether sings with each corrupted Fallen whose head flies by your gun. If you weren't so pressed for time, you would've strangled the Wizard that had your sought after stolen Light. Standing in the pool of green magic, you turn a furious glare on to the Celebrant and unload your heavy straight into its bony head. Something inside of you lurched in desperation to finish the kill when it summons a portal, trying to make for a retreat and trapping you at the center of the room.

"Crow! The portal!"

"I see it! Now finish it!" Just as he says those words, the trap falls and the portal across the room implodes, sending the High Celebrant to its knees. Your body erupts with power as you descend upon the Hive that killed Sagira and nearly killed Crow, sending it off with your super into the abyss.

Heaving a sigh, your brain finally has a chance to clear with no more present danger. In fact, your chest swells with affection as your Ghost confidently speaks of his trust in Crow followed by his reply.

"It's been an honor, Guardian."

Finally leaving the location, Celebrant head included, you decide to sleep on your short trip back. Your Ghost wakes you up before you land, and when you transmat your eyes immediately fall on Crow, who is safe and sound. Behind your helmet, you smile wearily at the former prince.

The moment you step into the Spider's lair, the air is thick with tension. You can tell the kingpin is pleased to have the Shore cleansed of Hive corruption, but also upset that he has to give up one of his prizes.

"It's done." You say firmly.

"So it is... so it is," he leans forward in his seat with a leer, "All right, Guardian. As promised, you can have a prized bauble from my lair as compensation for your... heroics." The last word rolls off his tongue with a quiet distaste, and you have no problem returning the feeling.

"I want... him." Jerking your head in Crow's direction, you can feel the energy crack through the room.

"Cute. Real funny." Your brows crease in impatience at his dismissive snicker.

"You said anything in the room." You do your best to keep your eyes off of Crow; a distraction now could be bad news. Spider lets out a terrible laugh as his guards step forward, readying their spears.

"Oh... You really want my little bird," he puts an uncomfortable amount of importance on the words "really want", "Fine. You can have him." The large Fallen turns his gaze to Crow, mockingly waving his arm upward.

"Fly away," he looks back down at you, "and get the hell out of my lair."

No further instruction is needed as you and Crow make your leave. As you exit the safehouse, both Glint and your Ghost come out.

"Now what?" Glint looks to Crow for an answer. The reality of the event settles on the Awoken, and he looks at you in a way he hasn't before.

"Why would you do this for us?"

As a formality, you've never taken off your helmet around Crow. He'd never seen, or even had an idea about your face, until... now. The tear streaks from the mission are still on your face, slightly visible in the dim light. Walking over to him, you slowly bring your eyes up to his. He doesn't move away, but you do notice with a flash of hope that a blush is starting to grace his cheeks at your proximity. Clenching your eyes shut, you close the gap between you two and press a kiss to his lips.

He freezes for a moment before placing his hands on your shoulders, and you pull back afraid that you've just made the wrong move.

"I... uh." His eyes dart here and there before settling back on yours. His face straightens out, and then he hesitantly leans forward into your range again. This time, he's the one kissing you.

Both of you leave the Tangled Shore together.

Relationship HCs

He never fails to pick you up during your special brand of greeting, which is running straight at him and jumping into his arms. You even do the little spin around like those movie couples

He's okay with subtle PDA like handholding, but nothing too extreme such as kissing in front of others; he prefers to keep more intimate moments between you and him

Surprisingly eager for cuddles with you at the end of the day

He will let you indulge yourself by doing stupid things every once in a while, like seeing how much whipped cream you can put in his mouth before he can't take anymore

There are times when you just talk about random stuff because he knows you like the sound of his voice

He usually has to calm you down whenever another Guardian stares too long. You see it as a threat, and you're ready to defend your glowing boyfriend with your life

When you're not busy with Vanguard tasks, you're bringing him to the planets that weren't swallowed by the Darkness and showing him the layout, along with whatever endemic life is present

He becomes enamored with Earth's crows, which you had expected

Whenever he has visions of his past, he'll tell you and you do your best to fill in with rudimentary details such as location or time; you hope he never remembers the moment when you had to kill him

You especially love playing with his hair, it's nearly softer than silk and you are intrigued by the white streaks at the front of his cut

Both of you will decide to sit down every once in a while and just touch each other's face; you prefer running your hands along his jawline and cheekbones while he'll brush just under your eyes and along your temples

Dates can range from a quiet, romantic dinner to hunting down large and difficult quarry

Whenever you find a Golden Age waltz piece, you bring it to him and give it a listen; these sessions always end with you two dancing and swaying with each other

Truly, a couple of many talents

NSFW 👁👄👁

The first time you get anywhere close to the act he's so unsure of himself you both stop and instead explore each other at the surface level

No matter how many times he sees you nude his face is a blushing mess everytime

The first few times you take the lead, but once you both get over the fact that you've exchanged pleasantries he's the one who figures out he likes to be dominant in bed

He's vocal to an extent, mostly heavy breathing/moaning and grunts to let you know exactly how good you feel

He's super into bondage (who would've known?) whenever you're the one tying him up

He always prefers the ability to see your face, and whether it's because he can see your face contort in pleasure or because he can lock with you in a heated kiss, you can't tell

His sides are usually ticklish, but they act more like erogenous zones when both of you are deep into it

He starts out rough since he isn't used to this kind of activity at all, but over time he finds a balance between being gentle and absolutely blowing your back out

He's likely to caress your arms and waist the whole time to add another sensitive layer to your already overstimulated body

He also likes draping his body over yours, and with how hot his chest is and the press of his lower body? You're not arguing

Once you finish, he either goes straight to sleep while huddling against you or you convince him to get up so you can shower together

I have 2 asks for Drifter HCs, but I'm implementing a personal/request system so I can keep my monsterfucker train going. The next HCs I'm releasing are for Nokris, then I'll do Drifter HCs, and for now my last personal writing will be for Ghaul

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #crow x reader #destiny spider #osiris #saint 14 #cayde6 #uldren sov #destiny crow #petra venj #xivu arath

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stillness-in-green · 3 years ago

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MVA In Memoriam (3/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party)

Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade

Chapter 229 – All It Takes Is One Bad Day

• The full first page, of Jin getting mobbed by Puppet!Jins, them tearing his mask off, and flinging it and then him away. Saved them a bit of budget, I suppose, but it’s a shame to lose the drama and the violence of Twice having his mask pulled away, since it’s decent foreshadowing (indeed, possibly intentionally so, on Skeptic’s part) for the violent bewilderment he’ll be subject to shortly.

• Re-Destro’s line, “Not when he’s using his meta-ability to puppeteer, unless you want another nagging lecture.” They didn’t keep the first nagging lecture, so of course they wouldn’t keep this. I’m still annoyed, both on general principle and at the loss of RD’s implication that these nagging lectures are a regular occurrence, especially if one tries to bother Skeptic when he’s using his meta-ability. Has RD himself been on the receiving end of one? Possibly so! But you’d be less likely to think so just from the anime.

• Re-Destro’s line, “This allowed our warriors to momentarily hold back and stay out of danger.” Because why would the audience need to know that Skeptic planned for and Re-Destro cares enough to observe something like that lol?? Obviously the MLA is perfectly content to just throw their peoples’ lives away because, whatever, more where that came from! Dammit, anime, the fandom believes this enough as it is without confirmation bias from your cuts!

• Skeptic’s “fufufu” laugh, because the anime is allergic to the MLA having fun.

• The police officer’s line, “Sure, but in a case like this, you’re still to blame.” The rest of the exchange hints at it, of course, but there’s a horrifying callousness to a police officer just saying straight to the face of a teenaged orphan facing his first offense, “Yes, you were obeying the law perfectly and this guy just ran out in front of you, but it’s going on your criminal record anyway, whatever.” A weight the anime lost, and another that makes me very suspicious of the patterns behind what, precisely, was put on the chopping block.[1]

• Jin’s narration, “That police officer couldn’t have known. Me neither.” Demonstrates that Jin doesn’t really hold his fall against the one policeman. It’s a consistent thread with Jin’s character that, while he’s very jaded, he’s not actually vengeful, nor is he looking to enact systemic change. While he’s very defensive of his friends, people who hurt Jin himself are never in any real danger of him coming to collect his pound of flesh in return; he just rolls with it as part of how the world works, in the way of someone who was never given reason to believe any different. This line is a good example of that.

• From Jin’s old employer’s angry rant, deletes the note that the client that called is angry, and that the client said, “That young punk of yours did this!” It’s nothing that wasn’t obvious from the rest of the conversation, but I do I think cutting it loses a sense that this guy is just unloading all of his frustration and fear on Jin. The length of the screed, the extra details—it clearly communicates that Jin’s boss is so angry and upset he’s not paying any real mind to filtering, but just recounting every point of contention the moment they come into his mind.

• In modern society, when you’re someone without roots… Well, not a lot of people can relate to that.” It isn’t just the police that failed Jin; it’s a whole society that’s distrustful of people who don’t have a place in the fabric, and thus are unwilling to try and bring them into it. Like Tenko, there are a thousand little places where someone could have reached out a hand, but no one ever did. The audience can intuit this, but I feel it’s better to be clear about it—it’s not just the legal system that screwed Jin over; it’s every other person that never tried to help him because they were afraid of his eyes or distrusted a guy who had no connections. When Shigaraki comes, he’s not going to be coming for heroes alone; he’ll be coming for this entire tapestry of indifference and timidity.

• Skeptic’s lines, “Hrm? Fighting back? I was sure he’d either flee or cower in place... We didn’t anticipate such unity between them.” This gets at two things. Firstly, and once again, that the MLA did their research; that they came into this with educated expectations and a definite plan. Secondly, an in-character observation of what the arc has been showing the audience all along: that the League isn’t just a disparate gang of hoodlums anymore; that they’re developing real bonds. Those bonds mark them as unusual—Re-Destro comments on it in 223, as did Overhaul in 147; even Mr. Compress remarks disapprovingly on Twice’s “habit” of getting overly attached to people. It’s striking that, even though the MLA knew from Giran’s records that the League was uncommonly well-bonded, Twice’s devotion still fell outside Skeptic’s parameters.[2]

• Again Skeptic’s line, “Now his legs.” The drones don’t actually get this far (though you can see them gearing up for it on the next page), so it’s a reasonable enough cut, but it does emphasize the ludicrous, over-the-top extremes Skeptic in particular is willing to go to in securing what he wants. If, you know, “Kidnap the doubler so we have a method to make copies of the Grand Commander at our leisure,” wasn’t bonkers enough.

• Twice’s line, “Even against Gigantomachia!” It really highlights just how much mental energy Twice has been dedicating to avoiding injury, that he was able to keep it in mind even fighting a foe as overwhelming, and for as extended a period, as Machia. And like, the anime blitzed over the Machia fight so quickly, and with so little visible wear and tear to the League, that it really could have used all the reminders it could find room for about how intense those six weeks were.

• Twice’s line, “I won’t watch a friend die!” Such an important line that the composer named an entire track for it, not that the anime gave us that track in the moment it was clearly scored for. They added in a new line later in the scene which mostly gets the important sentiments back in, but loses out in being slightly less fitting to his breakthrough. See the Additions portion of the write-up on Chapter 230, following.

Framing Shifts

• The policeman in Jin’s flashback looked up at him in the anime, where in the manga, his eyes stay down on his paperwork the entire time. I realize that anime can’t just still-frame every panel of a manga and call it an adaptation,[3] so characters will do things like move and look around in different directions just in the course of inhabiting a room, Still, in this case, it has the effect of making the officer look more alert and engaged than he was in the manga, and given that this whole chunk of backstory is about Jin slipping through the social safety net, it feels appropriate to me that the officer should be completely checked out.

Additions

• A new shot of Jin(s) in his pre-massacre doppelganger army days. Didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know—it’s little more than a new angle of the gang in the truck—but it was nice to see.

Bonus Note

• They left Re-Destro’s phrase, “My company,” alone when he was talking about the micro-transceivers Skeptic was using. That’s accurate to the manga, but I’d like to remind everyone that, at that point in the anime, viewers whose only reference is the anime itself have no idea that Re-Destro is a businessman. The show skipped the commercial, RD’s intro, the dinner scene where his company comes up, and Giran’s association of RD with Detnerat; it will further go on to skip Shigaraki recognizing him from the commercial. The news report mentioning Detnerat was ten full episodes prior to Episode 110, and was followed up on in not the faintest degree. For heaven’s sake, would it have been so hard to have Hirata Hiroaki say, “My Detnerat’s,” instead of just, “My company’s”?

Chapter 230 – Sad Man’s Parade

• Deleted the MLA members that are attacking Compress as they get pushed off by the Twice wave. Not the first time, and not the last, that the anime didn’t animate the random MLA people on the street. It’s hard to take the threat of their numbers seriously when the anime kept deleting them from what are supposed to be crowd scenes, you know?

• Mr. C thinking worriedly about Dabi as he’s mulling over Geten’s strength and disregard for catching his own people in the collateral damage. It’s just a, “Dabi—!” but it’s yet another tiny cut that shaves away at the manga’s clear depiction of Leagues’ concern for one another—even Mr. Compress, who claims that such things aren’t very villainous.

Framing Shifts

• Changed the random MLA’s exhortation to kill all the Twices to a generic, “Damn—!” I know American censors have often taken issue with the words “Kill” and “Die” in kids’ cartoons, but I was never of the impression that that was the case in Japan. And it’s not like the show made any bones about Curious planning to kill Toga. A rephrase to save a second and a half on dialogue, maybe?

• Had Skeptic give his lines about failure on the way over to the elevator instead of stalking over in silence, and then dumping the whole monologue all at once. The manga’s extended silence over three identically sized panels is much funnier and more characterful. I grow ever more confident in my assessment of Skeptic as the second-most ill-treated MLA character in this adaptation.

• The return of the Doom Choirs for the Twice Parade. I really wish the anime would lay off slathering Doom Choirs all over everything, especially a moment like this: a triumph for Twice, and, true to form for Twice, also crammed to the gills with visual and verbal gags. The Doom Choir is out of keeping with both the victory and the comedy—Mine Woman, later on, served the Parade much better.

Additions

• Gave Twice a new line, “I will protect my comrades!” It was nice to make up for his, “I won’t watch a friend die!” but the latter is more characterful, especially since a more literal translation is, “I won’t kill my friends!” Which is, you know, relevant to the fact that Twice has problems telling himself apart from things that just look like him, and he just had to intervene to stop some of those look-alikes from killing one of said friends. At least it got his use of nakama back in.[4]

• A new little cut of animation as the action went back to Geten and Dabi. I suppose the Dabi fans liked it, and it was nice to see more of Geten’s ice dragon, but I’d have much preferred they could keep the scenes we already have before adding new ones.

Chapter 231 – Path

The scene of Hawks wondering why he hasn’t heard from Dabi and his subsequent flashback to the last time they spoke were relocated to the beginning of Episode 102, the first thing the audience saw after the prior episode ended with Shouto inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at Endeavor’s. In the manga, of course, it’s not “a few weeks ago in Kyushu,” it’s “meanwhile in Osaka.” Also, the order of the scenes was flipped—the episode led with the flashback, then returned to the modern day. It really makes the timeline needlessly confusing—the viewer has no real context for what we’re seeing and when, especially since the anime neglected to specify how much time passed between the two scenes. You have to assume it was enough time for an outcry to be raised over Jeanist’s disappearance, but the random shot of a bird flying over was not at all helpful there.

Alterations included (as usual, outright removed material is in bold text):

1. Cut Hawks’ thought, “That’s why you keep calling,” and his line, “What’s the job?” I know I should give a breakdown here about Hawks’ mentality and training, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to complain about any lines Takami Keigo loses. God knows the anime gives him plenty enough bonus material.

2. Spliced in the flashback scene of Hawks reporting to the Commission from Chapter 243, but subtly changed it to suggest that it took place after the phonecall in which Dabi demanded Hawks kill a non-Endeavor top hero, rather than it taking place right after Hawks and Dabi’s first contact, which is what the manga implies.

3. Deleted several key shots in the Jeanist apartment scene, with the effect of making Hawks way less creepy. We got an anime-original shot of his eyes, narrow and serious, but not either of the shots of his big, off-putting grin and widened eyes as he pulls a feather-blade on Jeanist. We also lost a shot of Jeanist turning to face him, framed between extended primaries of Hawks’ Fierce Wings. It’s not like the anime dropped the fake!Dead Jeanist plot, so I’m not sure why the shift, unless it’s just that they wanted to keep Hawks likable for the merch-buying crowd, not creepy and unsettling. And while I personally never believed that Hawks really killed Jeanist, a lot of people thought it was plausible, no doubt based on how off-kilter he comes across in this scene. It loses a real frisson, to just play it straight.

• Shigaraki decaying a missile in mid-air. So Dabi can get those little animation flourishes but Tomura can’t, huh, anime? I see how it is. I. See. How. It. Is.

• Spinner’s little side comment about all the ice everywhere. A nice demonstration that Geten and Dabi’s fight really is affecting huge swathes of the city; that’s certainly apparent already in a bunch of the wide shots showing exactly that, but it’s helpful to have the more zoomed-in moments, too. Also, I do enjoy those little side quips wherever we get them, and the anime often removes them.

• Thinned out the crowd guarding the route to the tower somewhat (it’s particularly noticeable on the mid-distance rooftops) and, as best I can tell, removed Shigaraki and Spinner from the shot. Why keep all the lines harping on the 110,000 number when a) it’s not even accurate to the MLA’s forces, just the League’s assumptions, and b) the studio doesn’t even have the resources to adequately convey the numbers the manga does portray?

• Somebody in the crowd being defiant about Twice’s multiplication and vigorously declaring that the League are all just sacrifices for the MLA’s Revival Party anyway. The background nobodies? Allowed to express even bog-standard over-confidence? Well I never. How dare those people think their lives count enough for them to get dialogue.

• Spinner’s, “This keeps happening!” Of course he couldn’t have that line in the anime, since the anime cut the other big place Trumpet clearly used his power to rile up his followers. What other times were you even talking about when you said, “Every time he talks,” Anime!Spinner? That scene was the first time we even saw Trumpet since he welcomed you guys to town.

• Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. He just called him a damn moron (bakayarou) in the anime; he uses the considerably more specific baka kyouso (Google Translate gives “guru”; jisho gives “founder of a religious sect”). He uses the same term again immediately afterward—Viz’s translation gives, “More like chrome dome cult!”—which the anime also deleted.

So here’s another example of the anime doing everything it could to erase the presence of cults in the HeroAca world. The easy assumption to make is that this was tied to broadcast standards about the depiction of what Japan refers to as “new religious movements,” which—and pardon the brief swerve into real life historical horrors here—have been very unpopular in Japan since Aum Shinrikyo and the sarin gas attacks in 1995. But were these elements removed because the anime didn’t want to represent anything that smacks of new religious movements at all, or because the depiction of both the MLA and particularly the CRC are explicitly villainous and calling religious movements, even made-up ones, evil on TV leads to a lot of angry phone calls?

• Re-Destro’s line, “Unlike my good Miyashita, there’s nothing charming about you.” Of course they’d cut this, having cut the Miyashita scene, but I hate it anyway. As I said earlier, RD’s invocation of Miyashita in front of two people who are going to have not the slightest clue who that is tells me that Re-Destro really does miss and feel bad about killing the guy. Cutting the reminder that RD still feels that sting makes it much too easy to assume that Shigaraki’s right about RD hiding up in his tower, uncaring of the blood shed on his behalf, when if you read Re-Destro with even the slightest of attempts at good faith, it’s clear that those losses weigh very heavily on him.

Incidentally, and not to harp on the art again, but in the manga, Stress is still visibly spread down from RD’s temple to the ridge of his brow over his eye socket. The anime returned it back to its normal resting state, again suggesting that the death toll mounting in the streets below (as well as, possibly, the new stress of confronting a quirk as powerful as Double) left RD completely unmoved. The spread was back in the following shot, so it was probably just an art error, but it would be nice to have had fewer of those, especially when they impact characterization as much as what RD’s Stress blots are doing at any given time.

Framing Shifts

• Had Machia doing this weird cannonball skim just over the ground, when in the manga, he’s still half-buried, spraying earth and stone everywhere. The manga never namedrops Machia’s Mole quirk during the story itself, but it’s important to know for later that Machia can not only tear through obstacles, he can tear through obstacles extremely quickly.

Additions

• Gave Hawks a few new lines about how too many unexpected things happened for their last arrangement, and that Dabi should have given him more warning. Largely seemed to be there to give the anime an excuse to flashback to the High End fight, in case the viewers had completely forgotten about Hawks and Dabi having a clandestine meeting and sniping at each other in the aftermath of that event. An understandable addition, but deeply frustrating in the context of all the lines that got cut.

Chapter 232 – Meta Abilities and Quirks

• Dropped a third instance of Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. I don’t know what the S&P restriction is on this, but given that the movie was allowed to create and villainize an entire international terrorist cult, it is really incomprehensible that the MLA doesn’t get to keep their designation as such. Why?? Because the movie involves going out and defeating its cult, but the series is going to engage in a more sympathetic treatment?[5] Because the self-selecting movie crowd is less likely to complain than the TV audience? Did they just not want to draw attention to how much the movie was ripping off the MLA’s whole shtick? What??

• Missed that RD’s swole arm swipe wipes out the puppets Skeptic left behind; they just vanished from the scene entirely after Twice’s arrival. It’s hard to blame the anime for this; the manga also seems to lose track of the fact that they’re right there in between RD and the elevator—they’re nowhere to be seen anywhere between the end of Chapter 231 and the aforementioned arm swipe, where you can see them getting obliterated. Both versions could have stood to be more attentive to this; indeed, the anime could have fixed it, small error though it is.

• A sort of twitchy sparking around Shigaraki’s hand right after he decays the tower. This is foreshadowing that Shigaraki’s big AOE decay attacks are hard on his body, which will become extremely apparent after he unleashes it on the city at large during the climax, and factors into his decision to accept the mysterious power Ujiko offers. The damage Shigaraki sustains there doesn’t come out of nowhere; Horikoshi is, on the whole, extremely good at layering in foreshadowing many chapters before the foreshadowed elements come fully to light. It makes the writing look much messier than it actually is—more convenient, more pat—to delete this stuff.

• Shigaraki recognizing RD from the Detnerat commercials. Well, they ditched the Detnerat commercial, so of course they ditched this. Still, it lost one of the indicators that Shigaraki is, despite not receiving a formal education, actually quite up to speed on current events—even, apparently, when those current events are happening while he’s been fighting Machia in an isolated stretch of mountains for six weeks! I already suffer enough through fanon characterizations of Shigaraki in which he’s a basement-dwelling feral manchild glued to his gaming console whom AFO bans from accessing information about the outside world, anime! I don’t need you dropping the scenes that most clearly demonstrate otherwise!!

• In the anime, Baby!Chikara’s face was unmarked, just a normal infant face—you’d never even know the kid had a meta-ability just to look at him. In the manga, the skin of his face is clearly darker, contrasted against the paleness of his mother’s hand. It’s obvious that he’s not “normal” looking, and thus equally obviously would have attracted negative attention in his era.[6] Also had his mother smiling; her face in the manga is too shadowed and vague to make out an expression, befitting the murky tragedy of her story and the fear she must have been living with.

Framing Shifts

Additions

• A little thing: they had Twice echo, “Cushion?” when Clone!Shigaraki told him to get ready to cushion Giran’s fall. If anything, Re-Destro and his little thought-bubbled question mark is probably the one who should have had this reaction line.

• Added a visual for Clone-araki catching himself on the window. A perfectly reasonable way to fill screen time while a dialogue beat was ongoing.

• Added a panning still over a reaction shot from a bunch of Twice clones when the tower came down. It had a few good faces in it.

---

So, generally, this episode was better. I definitely still had issues with it, but compared to what came before, when they were trying to cram 5+ chapters into the episodes, there were far fewer cuts, and what cuts and tweaks there were, were relatively minor. Definitely nothing that made me want to throw chairs Jerry Springer-style the way 108 and 109 did.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the remaining two episodes. Come back next time for Part Four, Episode 111: Shimura Tenko, Origin.

FOOTNOTES

[1] After witnessing the massacre that was Episode 108, I was convinced they were going to cut the policeman scene entirely, and just go right to Jin getting fired for hitting someone with his bike, letting the audience think it was his fault completely rather than cast aspersions on police and the justness of the law. I was pleased they kept it at all, but less pleased with the steps taken to soften the sharpness of its accusation.

[2] Of course, it’s not like the MLA themselves don’t understand the willingness to give everything for the people who matter. They just label those feelings Devotion To The Cause, and don’t think the League is capable of such resolution.

[3] Netflix’s Way of the House Husband, be told.

[4] Nakama is, of course, a shonen standby, but, to the best of my knowledge (which is admittedly limited; I don’t follow a lot of shounen series), it’s pretty rare to hear the word coming out of a villain’s mouth! Jin calling the League his nakama ties into how the League are both sympathetic villains in the larger story and also the protagonists of the current arc, thereby operating under a lot of protag tropes for the duration—foreshadowed by Spinner’s earlier talk of Shigaraki and his boyish, dream-chasing eyes.

[5] Sometime after the mass arrests, one hopes.

[6] This could well be a coloring error in the manga, but if so, you’d think they’d have corrected it for the volume release. Especially given that, again, the color is in a different shade/screentone than the shadow that covers most of his mother’s face, and her hand stroking Chikara’s chin isn’t shadowed at all.

#my villain academia #bnha #bnha meta #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my writing #stillness has salt

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mamavinevine · 3 years ago

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"Capricorn Mood EP" 1 Year Anniversary: a message from the artist

A year ago today I did a very brave thing. Something my 17-year old self only ever dreamed of actually doing. Not only did I expressed my vulnerability through my music, but I shared it with the world. I told the entire world just how hurt and damaged and broken I was. How I was far from perfect, but a complete mess and emotional wreck. I told them what only I could. It truly was "the concessions of a heartbroken, grief stricken, hopeless romantic".

And honestly, it felt..... humiliating.

I immediately felt like I had made a mistake. Instead of congratulating myself for all of the money and effort spent on planning, executing and promoting the entire thing on my own, there I was wishing I could take it all back.

I can remember feeling this overwhelming shame that all everyone should ever see me as is this pathetic, spiteful crybaby who got her feelings hurt over a boy. Everyone who thought I was so strong and tough would discover that I was really just soft and fragile.

The whole thing just felt like one big cry for help. And the worst part was feeling like, even after all that, no one was coming to save me.

So then why not just delete everything? Take the whole album off all streaming platforms, remove all the visuals and photoshoots from my page and forget the entire thing ever happened? I'll tell you why...

"Capricorn Mood" was the untold story of my teenage self. The one who felt so alone and different from everyone else. Who bottled up everything inside and hid behind her talents because she didn't have anyone around to tell her how brave and inspiring and beautiful she was. Who rebelled against the social norms and made the necessary mistakes needed to grow up and be self sufficient as she learned she would need to be. Even if it meant learning them the hard way. It wasn't until recently I failed to realize just how much I had been through and all those years. How little I shared or even made an effort to heal. All I ever knew was to keep going and that this life didn't come with a savior, you just always had to look out for yourself. You can imagine how extremely lonely that felt. I really believed that it was pointless to share how I felt because nobody would care or even if they did, they wouldn't stop to help. I was like a beggar on the side of the road needing way more than just a few coins dropped inside my hat and a "good luck" as they walked off. I needed help. I needed support. I need love. I need to unlearn everything that I was taught and start over from scratch.

I guess in a way you could say the year 2020 felt like it would be the end of the world for all of us. So I needed to share how I felt before then. I needed to release all the hurt and finally let go. Truth be told, had I not felt that way I probably never would've released my EP.

I didn't care so much about it being perfect. I just wanted to get it out of my system. I wanted to unload the burden of all my past mishaps and say all the things I've always wanted to say. Including the things I myself needed to hear in order to change. And when it turned out that the world wasn't going to end after all, that's exactly what I did. It was time to clean up the mess I made and stop blaming others and playing the victim. So that instead of feeling embarrassed, I could feel empowered. Instead of feeling exposed, I could feel heard. Instead of feeling trapped inside the narrative others placed me in based off of that particular phase in my life, I could feel free.

And the response I received since then has made it very clear that I am not alone. In fact, I'm actually pretty relatable to all kinds of people with different backgrounds and demographics. It was beautiful. I felt like a god who created a safe space for people to feel everything no matter how discombobulated or or outlandish or unethical. Free your mind and let whatever's inside come out. Even if you're the only one who understands. Because we all have one life to live and if you're lucky enough, you get to tell your story along the way.

Happy birthday "Capricorn Mood" ✨

#music #my writing #capricornmood #divine #artists on tumblr #r&b music #Capricorn #songwriter #mamavinevine #houston #writing #emotional #2020 #Spotify

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dalekofchaos · 3 years ago

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Harbinger and The Illusive Man

Something I think would’ve fixed Mass Effect 3 while also keeping the plot and the dynamic of The Reapers and Cerberus as the main threat is making Harbinger the big bad and The Illusive Man as his puppet or as The Illusive Man could’ve put it his “partner”

My other ME3 metas

ME3 mistakes

ME3 ending fix

I cannot state how much I hate that Harbinger is almost nonexistent in this game.

The thing that annoyed me most about ME3 is the fact that Harbinger is not the main threat. The Illusive Man is. Harbinger has been built up as the big bad since ME2. "YOU HAVE FAILED. WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY." He says as he discards the Collectors. Then his speech to Shepard as the base blows up. "Human, you've changed nothing. Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction. You will surrender your potential against the growing void. We return, and you will rise. We are the harbinger of your perfection. We will bring your species into harmony with our own. Your species will be raised to a new existence. We are the beginning, you will be the end. Prepare for our domination. Prepare for our coming." Then in Arrival, he came pretty damn close to unleashing quick subjugation and harvest upon an unprepared galaxy. Upon Shepard foiling his plans. "Shepard. You have become an annoyance. You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you. A star system sacrificed. But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us. Know this as you die in vain: Your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the Arrival." The perfect final villain right? Unfortunately, Cerberus was more focused on than The Reapers. My problem with Cerberus and no Harbinger is Too many Cerberus, too few Reaper forces in plot. We fight Cerberus more often than the reapers. Hardly any boss fight and the one with Reaper Destroyer on Rannoch was more an interactive movie than fight. During the Horizon mission in Mass Effect 2, Harbinger was solidified as the Big Bad. It was menacing and ominous, with just the right amount of annoying. It taunted us throughout the game, telling us how insignificant we were, and how our actions were pointless. It was willing to posses drones through the Collector General to fight us personally, and when we killed the host, it tossed them aside. Harbinger even gave the typical “You haven’t seen the last of me!” villain rant. It made any fire fight frustrating, and that made me want to kill it even more; I hated Harbinger. Many games fail to do that. Harbinger was an enemy which I looked forward to defeating. I had the desire to annihilate. In Mass Effect 3, I got a codex entry and a cameo. Harbinger just swoops in at the last second and blows my friends and I to hell(and lets the Normandy save them), then flies off. Personally, I would have loved to hear Harbinger’s menacing monologue, it drove me on. I would have felt a deeper motivation to take the fight back to Earth if it told me how much destruction the Reapers were causing, how many lives were lost. I felt cheated when I got to the final mission, only to suddenly realize it was largely absent from the game. Harbinger has been replaced. Replaced by the Illusive Man and Kai Leng. The former is an old acquaintance, albeit one now controlled by the Reapers. The latter is a space ninja from a terrible book.

I will admit. The Illusive Man is a worthy foe and someone worthy enough to be Harbinger’s Saren. Kai Leng however is a terrible counterpart for Shepard.

Kai Leng. Sucks. Period. Here is a long in depth version on why he sucks. Even in the novels Leng is a terrible character. He’s a edgelord racist. He couldn’t even kill Anderson, he almost got taken out by an aging Drell with stage 7 Drell cancer. Oh but he has snarky one liners and he sent that stupid fucking email after Thesia. KAI LENG SUCKS! He is not even interesting. I genuinely fucking sighed when he was introduced. When he killed Thane, all I could think of was “really?”. When he sent that little email I just rolled my eyes. When I saw him at the temple all I could think of was “not you again”. When he “beat” me on Thessia(I would have unloaded my N7 Typhoon and sent his whiny ass into oblivion, but game mechanics said I couldn’t) I just felt angry that such a stupid character ever made it past the writing board. Oh and BULLSHIT. Thane and Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng. Even near his death bed, Thane could still kill Kai Leng. Kirrahe is a hardened veteran, he is AN STG MAJOR! Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng in a blink of a fucking eye. Here is my take on Kai Leng. He should have been killed on Priority:Citadel. If you do not save Kirrahe or don’t talk to Thane. Shepard should kill Kai Leng. If you saved Kirrahe but don’t talk to Thane. Kirrahe comes out of cloak and bombards Leng with Scorpion rounds and Leng blows up. If you talked to Thane, Thane would blow Kai Leng’s head off. The only reason why Leng is presented as a threat is cutscene logic and bad one liners.

But back to The Illusive Man and Harbinger

To make Harbinger work as the big bad, we need to have Harbinger constantly “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL”

Near the end of the first mission, before Shepard contacts the Normandy, we would see Harbinger’s hologram appear like it did in Arrival. Harbinger taunting Shepard. that the harvest begins.

Instead of suggesting Control, The Illusive Man is basically saying The Reapers can uplift Humanity and ascend them and dominate the other races. With Harbinger’s help, Humanity will be the ultimate force in the galaxy

Everytime we fight Reaper forces, Harbinger is there to “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL”

Kai Leng dies on The failed coup on the Citadel. The Illusive Man does not care as he is close to finding The Catalyst

On Rannoch, instead of a Destroyer Reaper talking to Shepard, Harbinger’s hologram will appear. Harbinger will continue to taunt Shepard, but Shepard shows that everyone is coming together to end the Reapers once and for all. Harbinger would not say that the Reapers are needed to keep synthetics from killing organics. He would say The Reapers are there to ascend and are your salvation through destruction. Harbinger’s end quotes from ME2 is basically the premise of The Reapers end goals. That's all it needed to be.

On Thesia, The Illusive Man will explain to Shepard that Harbinger chose him. After The First Contact War, TIM found a Reaper artifact. In that artifact, he was contacted by Harbinger. He lost his human vision, but awakened to the truth and because of Harbinger’s guidance, he founded Cerberus. Strength for Cerberus is strength for humanity. TIM believes he and Harbinger together they could uplift and empower humanity over the lesser races. The Illusive Man is to Harbinger, as what Saren was for Soverign. He will then tell Shepard, he plans on using the Crucible to finish what the Collectors started. Completing the Human Reaper. Then TIM sends a group of Phantoms, Nemesis and Cerberus Dragons to face Shepard in place of Leng. Thesia falls.

Sanctuary is used to create Husks and harvest humans to help create the Human Reaper

At Cerberus Headquarters, TIM says Harbinger knew more about the Citadel than Soverign. There is more than one Conduit and he found it. Vendetta will reveal that the Citadel was moved by Harbinger and taken it to Earth to complete the harvest

The confrontation between Shepard, Anderson and TIM happens but we know how TIM is on the Citadel and if you read my ending fix, you will know that Anderson would’ve went to the beam with Shepard and they are transported to the same place

Shepard will ask “Why didn’t Harbinger kill me?” “Because, we need you to understand and we need you to believe”

Same confrontation ends with either Shepard shooting TIM dead or TIM killing himself after Shepard uses paragon or renegade to reveal that Harbinger used him all his life

After Anderson passes. Harbinger “Assumes Control” over TIM’s dead body. Harbinger will explain the purpose of the Harvests. The explanation is the original ending of Dark energy. The Reapers as a whole were ‘nations’ of people who had fused together in the most horrific way possible to help find a way to stop the spread of the Dark Energy. The real reason for the Human Reaper was supposed to be the Reapers saving throw because they had run out of time. Humanity in Mass Effect is supposedly unique because of its genetic diversity and represented the universe’s best chance at stopping Dark Energy’s spread. We have a choice either Sacrifice humanity, allowing them to be horrifically processed in hopes that the end result will justify the means or use The Crucible to destroy The Reapers and find a way to stop the dark energy from spreading and it shows it is hopeful with a united galaxy. However, if we choose destroy, Harbinger will attempt to stop Shepard. A Reaperfied TIM appears and Shepard fights him, while The Normandy fights Harbinger. If we choose sacrifice humanity, Shepard will be the final catalyst to completing the Human Reaper. But obviously no one will choose that choice as the entire point of the trilogy is to destroy The Reapers. So we get a hopeful ending. The united galaxy will work together to stop the spread of dark energy, as Hackett said “If we can put aside our grievances long enough to stop The Reapers, imagine what we can do together”

There, I came up with a way to have the best of both worlds. Harbinger and The Illusive Man as the big bads.

I also made The Reapers motivation to actually work. They are there to control the chaos. The harvests end with a creation of The Reaper and The Reapers are the pinnacle of evolution Harbinger’s speech at the end of ME2 was enough for a motivation. The Reapers are our salvation from the coming void. They want to ascend humanity to perfection. That makes complete sense and makes more sense than destroying everyone to save everyone????? WHo fucking wrote this Starchild garbage???

The point is, The Reapers and The Illusive Man could’ve worked as the big bads collectively together.

#Mass Effect #Mass Effect Legendary Edition #Mass Effect 3 #Commander Shepard #Femshep #The Illusive Man #Harbinger #Cerberus #The Reapers

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writingsbymarie · 5 years ago

Text

X - Rafe Cameron x reader

(my gif)

Word count: 2,124

Warnings: Fluff, and it’s a little steamy not gonna lie, implied sexy times

A/n: So this is based off the song X by the Jonas Brothers if you want to listen to that while reading.

Summary: You, Rafe, Topper, Sarah, and Kelce take a trip to the Bahamas. You and Rafe both have feelings for each other. What happens when you both are drunk at the club, and Rafe finally makes a move.

You don’t exactly know how you got convinced to join in on this small vacation to The Bahamas. It was winter break for college, and You, Rafe, Sarah, Kelce, and Topper were about to board the Cameron plane for a week in the Bahamas. You had been friends with the Camerons since you can remember. You were the same age as Rafe, but he was a couple months older than you. You two were pretty good friends since you grew up together, but as you got older there was tension in your friendship. To everyone around you, it was obvious that you and Rafe liked each other much more than friends, but neither of you was willing to make a move.

Rafe had his pilot license, but you didn’t exactly trust him with his drinking, and drug habits. He reassured you that he would be 100% sober while flying a plane saying he wasn’t that crazy which made you feel a bit better, but you were still nervous to be flying in a small plane.

You were currently walking your suitcase to the plane giving Rafe a smile, and wave as you exited your Brothers car who dropped you off. You said Goodbye to your brother, and started to walk towards the group of young adults and teens.

“Y/n is finally here! Time to blow this place” Sarah laughed coming to give you a hug. You rolled your suitcase to the plane, and Rafe gestured for you to let him grab your suitcase. He grabbed it and loaded it into the plane.

“Thanks Rafe”

“Of course I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself,” he said sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“Ha ha you’re so funny” you joked, and he just laughed, and both of you headed for the front plane entrance. Rafe climbed in, and turned around holding his hand out to help you get into the plane. You smiled and grabbed his hand, and he pulled you into the plane with a little too much force, so once you were up you ran into his body placing your hands on his chest, and his landed on your waist to steady you.

“Guess I’m a little too strong” he whispered, and your face went bright red, and you quickly backed away brushing yourself off, and he just laughed. You weren’t going to lie. It felt so good having his hands on your hips. His touch felt like fire, and you wanted to feel that again. Rafe walked to the pilot seat, and Kelce was sitting in the Passenger seat, and you Sarah, and Topper sat in the back.

The flight wasn’t too bad. You ended up falling asleep towards the end, and Sarah had to shake you awake once you landed. The boys quickly exited the plane you and Sarah getting out last. Topper helped Sarah out of the plane, and Rafe quickly took Toppers place to help you making your heart skip a beat. You put your hands on his shoulders and jumped down his hands finding your hips again, and you found yourself in the same position you were in before.

“You know I could have gotten out myself Rafe” you breathed. Your hands still on his shoulders.

“Yeah, but I like helping you, especially if it means I get to be this close to you” he whispered the last part in your ear, and you felt your stomach do a backflip and your heart rate increase. He backed away from you with a wink leaving you standing there trying to understand what he just said to you. Rafe flirted a lot, but he was being extra flirty today, and it messed with you. You shook your head, and walked towards the rest of the group, and they were unloading the suitcases. Once they were all out of the Plane you all grabbed your suitcases and went through the small airport. Once your bags were checked Rafe had called a drive to get you guys to the house. When the car arrived you all entered. You were all jamming to the music not caring about what the driver was thinking. When you reached the house Rafe paid your driver, and you guys entered the large house. Sarah and Topper took a room together, and the rest of you took your own rooms even though you wanted to be in a room with Rafe.

You put your suitcase on your bed, and got out your party clothes since you would be going to a club in a couple hours. Sarah came running into your room with her clothes, and make up a smile on her face.

“Time to get ready” she squealed, closing your door. There was a large mirror with a desk below it in your room where you guys would be getting ready. You decided to curl your hair, so you did that first. Sarah did the same as you guys jammed to music playing out of your speaker. You decided to put your clothes on before you did your make up. You exited the room going into the bathroom next to your room seeing Rafe was in the room right across from yours. You put on your white tube top and a floral short skirt. You looked in the mirror, and you actually felt hot in this outfit. You were hoping that you would catch the attention of the golden-haired boy in the room across from yours. The last thing you wanted to see was Rafes hands all over another girl at the club tonight, so maybe tonight would be the night he would have his hands all over you.

You opened the door of the bathroom stepping out to hit something solid. ‘When you looked at Rafe he had his hand up as if he was about to knock as you exited the room.

“Sorry” you giggled, but he didn’t respond at first. He was most definitely checking you out. His eyes went from your face, and scanned your body.

“No need to apologize” he smirked, and you felt your heart flutter, but you decided that you needed to do some kind of flirting back this time. So you smiled softly, and pushed past him dragging your hand against his body softly as you did. Before you entered the room you looked back at him.

“Hey Rafe”

“What”

“Next time you’re going to check me out try and not make it that obvious” you winked, and then re-entered your room leaving Rafe frozen by your flirty comment.

Sarah was now dressed. She was wearing a cute blue short sundress with white flowers. She was currently working on her makeup, and you came up next to you to work on yours. You started with some foundation, and then some highlighter.

“So what's going on between you and my brother” she hinted, and you almost dropped your brush.

“Um nothing” you defended, but she was convinced.

“There is obviously something between you guys, I’m very observant I see the way you look at each other, and friends don’t look at each other like that”

“Rafe and I are just best friends,” you said, and it sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself than Sarah.

“Whatever you say” Sarah sang as she walked away from the mirror to grab something. You finished up your eye makeup, but Sarah had you thinking. Was it that obvious you liked Rafe?

When it was time to go to the club the boys knocked on your door telling you guys that the uber was here to drive you. You and Sarah told the boys to meet you in the car as you grabbed a small bottle of vodka to pregame in the car. You ran out of the house to meet the boy who was already in the car. You passed around the bottle of vodka in the car, and everyone took a bit to start the night off. It was travel size so it was gone pretty quick. When you guys finally reached the club you were a bit buzzed, but you were ready to party. You guys entered the club lights flashing and music blasting. Topper and Sarah went to go dance, and Kelec went to find a girl leaving you, and Rafe together.

“You want to get Margaritas?” he asked leaning close to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

“Sure” you yelled back. He laced your hands together as you made your way through the crowd. You loved the feeling of his hand in yours. You never wanted to let go. Once you reached the bar he let go of your hand, and it felt empty. You both took a seat at the bar, and Rafe ordered two Margaritas, and two shots. The bartender made the drinks and handed them to you. Rafe quickly took the shot, and you weren’t going to lie. Watching him take the shot was hot. You quickly took yours forcing the liquid down your throat.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” Rafe said out of nowhere, and you almost choked on your Margarita.

“Thanks, Rafe”

“You look beautiful every night” he continued, and you felt like your face was on fire.

“Rafe” you started, but he stopped you.

“Let go dance” he insisted, holding out his hand for you to grab, and you took it immediately. Maybe tonight was going to the night his hands were on you.

Rafe dragged you through the crowd until you found a pretty open spot. At first, you just swayed to the beat, and Rafe frowned. He grabbed both your hands and began to move them back and forth. With the alcohol in your system, your anxieties started to go away, and you began to let yourself go. You moved your hips and got into the music. Rafe grabbed your hands and spun you in a circle, your skirt twirling as you spun. After the spin, you found yourself falling into his body and you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands found your waist. You both swayed to the music and you had a constant smile on your face. You leaned your head in the crook of his neck, your body as close as it could be to his. His hands were firm on your hips as you danced. Eventually, his hands wrapped around your lower back pulling you even closer than you thought was possible. You could feel his hands start to trail down further, but he was hesitant, so you placed your hands over his and moved them from you lower back to your ass, and he groaned. Rafe became a bit more confident with his touches, and he was feeling up and down your body. At some point you found yourself turning around your back pressed against his chest. His hand found your waist yet again. You could feel his breath on your neck and it made you shiver. This whole situation was way out of your comfort zone, but with the alcohol running through your system your brain didn’t seem to care. You felt Rafe's lips ghost your neck and you swore you almost moaned. Both your hips were swaying to the beat of the music and things were definitely starting to get a little PG-13, so you turned around to face him again. This time your foreheads were connected, and your lips were so close. You just had to move an inch or two and your lips would be on his.

“Do we want to cross this line?” you whispered to him. You had already done things that best friends don’t do, but kissing him would change everything. But instead of responding he connected his lips to yours. Your eyes widened for a second, but you quickly closed them kissing him back. His hands found your ass again, and you found your hands in his hair pulling on it a bit making him moan into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and your tongues battled for dominance, him obviously winning. His hands moved from your ass to your cheeks. When you pulled apart you made eye contact with his ocean blue eyes. They were a bit darker than usual which made your stomach have the feeling of butterflies.

“I’ve wanted to do that since freshman year” he admitted with one of his hands still on your cheek. You leaned into his touch closing your eyes to the feeling of his large hand caressing your cheek.

“You and me both” you breathed.

“Do you want to get out of here” he whispered into your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, and you almost gasped. Before you had the chance to answer his lips were on your neck.

“Yes please” and with that Rafe grabbed your hand, and you left the club knowing you were in for a hell of a night.

Master list

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader

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stellawella97 · 4 years ago

Text

Atelephobia: The Fear of Never Being Good Enough (Shane/Gender Neutral Farmer) - Chapter 1/3

Just posted 1/3 of my first Stardew Valley fanfic!

Read it below or over @ AO3

Summary:

Shane has got 99 problems but never did he think the entire world losing its colour would be one of them.

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It started off as just any other normal day in Shane’s life.

The chickens clucked noisily outside, the cows joining in their song occasionally with their loud chorus of moo’s. None of these sounds woke Shane up in the slightest - he heard them every day and he’d grown so accustomed to the noise, he figured he’d still be able to continue sleeping even if his bedroom floor caved in beneath his bed.

The slightly battered alarm clock sitting on Shane’s bedside table began its shrill ringing at 6:30am sharp. Shane tended to run by a strict ‘5 more minutes’ rule when it came to waking up in the morning however. Refusing to open his eyes till he absolutely had to, Shane managed to turn off the alarm clock by swatting aimlessly with his hand till it met with cold metal and the ringing stopped.

He tried to fall back asleep for those precious extra 5 minutes of peace before he had to leave for his soul-sucking job at JojaMart. However, memories of the night before began to flood back into his mind. Shane had been up in the mountains late at night, drinking again. He faintly remembered seeing the hermit (Linus, was it?) entering his tent, a plastic bag that was stuffed to the brim with what looked like half-eaten food grasped tightly in his hands.

Shane had drunk a couple cans of beer before he decided to enter the mines nearby. It had been dark and full of strange noises neither human nor animal could make but Shane had managed to make it down several floors with a pickaxe he’d found at the mine entrance in his drunken state. As to why he’d chosen to do this, Shane had no idea whatsoever.

He didn’t remember much else except for the sound of a creature speaking in a garbled ancient language, a warm tingling sensation that filled his entire body, and finally the sharp pain that shot through his head as he finally keeled over from the amount of alcohol in his system, smashing his head against the rocky terrain. Oddly enough, his head didn’t hurt at all this morning. Doctor Harvey must’ve patched him up real good this time. Or maybe Marnie had. Who’d even brought him back to the house?

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he was actually found with trousers on this time, Shane heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. Marnie must have gone out to feed the animals. Shane was just about to roll over onto his side to continue his reminiscing when it began to dawn on him that he’d probably been in bed for more than just 5 minutes.

Shane quickly sat up in bed and grabbed the alarm clock. It was now 7:10am! He couldn’t risk Morris docking his pay again this month - he had to get to JojaMart quick. He jumped out of bed and had just put his leg through a pair of jeans when he noticed that it’d turned from blue to gray. When had that happened? He remembered wearing this exact pair of jeans just two days ago and he certainly hadn’t ever bought gray ones before.

It was then that he realized - everything had turned gray from his walls, to the cushion placed in front of the television set, to the alarm clock, and even his own skin.

I’ve finally done it, haven’t I? I died in those fucking mines last night and now, I’m in some kind of Hell?

The thought ran through Shane’s mind as he spun around, inspecting everything in his room for any sign of colour. This was to no avail. Even his favourite pair of boxers was gray with slightly darker gray hearts dotting it. In a moment of pure desperation, Shane decided to pinch himself as hard as he could on his arm in an attempt to find out if he was in fact still alive. He was.

Rubbing the sore patch of skin on his arm, Shane decided that he didn’t have time to waste standing here and waiting to see if the world around him would get its colour back. If he was still alive, he needed to get to work pronto. He quickly pulled on his ratty, old JojaMart jacket that still did its job and ran out of the house, only just remembering to shut his bedroom door behind him because he just didn’t think he could deal with Marnie yelling at him again about the mess of empty beer cans and pizza boxes in there.

Shane ran through town, almost knocking over Abigail who had just left Pierre’s General Store with a flute in her hands. It worried him to no end that even her usually bright purple of her hair (She must dye it, right?) was now a dull gray, but Shane had no time to be stressing about that now. He’d just have to wait till during his break or after work.

Once he’d arrived at JojaMart, Shane immediately went to the employees office to clock in and change into the uniform. He took a moment to glance at his reflection in the mirror and sighed as he noted that the usually bright blue uniform was just as unflattering as always in a gray shade. He walked out onto the shop floor and began stocking the shelves, determined to just get through the day now.

However, he must’ve done something to offend Yoba because Shane’s shift did not go well at all. He’d first managed to trip over his own feet and crashed straight into the display of limited edition shrimp-flavoured Joja Cola that he’d been hard at work stacking up for over an hour. As Shane was stomping angrily back onto the shop floor with a bucket of soapy water and a mop in his hands, he’d then bumped into Pam who’d screamed in rage when she discovered her brand-new jumpsuit was now soaked. Even though he’d apologized profusely to Pam, Shane still had to sit through an hour and a half of Morris’s lectures as well as had his paycheck docked for the day to reimburse Pam for the damages.

Just as he thought his day couldn’t get any worse however, Shane was just about to clock out for his lunch break when Morris asked him to help Sam unload the delivery trucks that had just arrived with a new shipment of powdered butter, gluten pucks and Carbo Cones. This meant he had to endure almost an hour’s worth of listening to Sam go on and on about how awesome some indie band in Grampleton was - which on some days, was fine. Just not today, for Yoba’s sake. Instead of putting up a fuss however (Morris wouldn’t care anyway), Shane simply gritted his teeth and headed out to the back of JojaMart.

It wasn’t till 2pm that Shane finally managed to clock out for his break. He flopped down onto a seat at a small round metal table in the employee’s break room and stared at the silently humming vending machine in the corner of the room. The vending machine sold only JojaMart products, all of them disgusting and overly sweet - Shane had tried each one. At first, he wondered to himself ‘Wasn’t that vending machine blue before?” before it dawned on him for the second time that day that he hadn’t been able to see colours all day. As crazy as it sounded, he’d just been so distracted with work that he hadn’t had time to notice.

Shane leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, biting his lower lip in concentration. How had this happened? Had something happened to him in the mines? Maybe he should pay Doctor Harvey a visit after work, he would know what to do.

“Knock knock!,” a familiar voice suddenly came from the direction of the door. Shane, who had been staring blankly at a spot on the table, looked up to see who had managed to sneak into the break room in surprise but flinched almost immediately, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the sudden burst of colour amongst the gray. Once his eyes had adjusted, Shane saw that the voice belonged to the new farmer that had recently moved into the farm out of the town. They were now standing by the door, their hands clasped behind their back.

He must’ve been staring at the farmer for just a moment too long because they’d then asked “Shane? Are you okay? with an eyebrow raised questioningly. Shane cleared his throat and stood up from his chair, moving to stand in front of the vending machine. It was hard to tell what he was looking at when all the cans were the same gray colour, but he pretended to be deciding which drink he was going to buy to buy himself some time. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, Shane began to wonder if he was about to pass out.

Why’s the farmer the only one who’s in colour? Why of all people has it got to be them?!

Just as he thought of something smart to say, Shane heard the sound of the break room door opening again. He spun around to find the farmer already halfway out the door. However, the farmer noticed at the last moment that Shane had finally turned around and was now looking at them. They hesitated for a moment before saying with a shy smile tracing their lips “I’ve gotta go now but...I’ll be stopping by the Stardrop Saloon tomorrow night, I hope I’ll see you there there?”

“I-I’ll see you there!,” Shane blurted out, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up. The farmer flashed him a warm smile before shutting the door behind them. Shane fell back into his seat and buried his face in his hands, mentally screaming at himself for two main reasons. One, he had sounded way too excited at the prospect of seeing the farmer again. Two, had the farmer just subtly invited him on a date? And did he just...agree to it? What was going on today?!

Not once did he stop to wonder why the farmer hadn’t turned gray like everything else, himself included.

Shane managed to breeze through the second half of his shift at JojaMart without any further mishaps, and had made it all the way back home with his head high up in the clouds. He popped a frozen pizza he’d stolen from JojaMart’s freezers into the oven and entered his bedroom, kicking his shoes off at the door.

He was just wondering if people still brought their date flowers in these modern days when he noticed a small slip of paper that was being held in place beneath a small stone that was smooth to the touch. Written on the paper in a barely legible script were the words ‘Lost your ability to see colour, huh? If you want it back, meet me at the mines tonight at 11pm’.

Shane looked around his room and decided to check the windows. They were locked. Whoever had delivered this note must’ve come in from the front door but Marnie who had been home all day would have said something to him if someone had come looking for him. She hadn’t though, so they must have snuck in without her seeing. Now he knew how they got in, there was still one question left unanswered:

Who sent me this note?

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Author Notes:

Part 2 will be up sometime later this week so stay tuned for that.

If you'd like my work and would like to support me, please consider donating to my Ko-fi @ https://ko-fi.com/stellawella97 where I am offering custom fanfic commissions for a cup of coffee! It'd really help me out. Thank you <3

#stardew valley #stardew shane #stardew farmer #stardew fanfic #gender neutral fanfic #sdv #sdv shane #sdv farmer #fanfiction #fanfic

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venusandromedadjarin · 4 years ago

Text

Call Me Mando

Ch. 3, A Glint of Beskar

18+ eventual smut, violence, gore, 1.7k words

He’s next to you so quickly that you don’t even have time to register the whistle fully. The drunk reaches out to slap you ass and a gloved hand connects with his face at the exact same time. The crunch of the cantina patron’s nose is sickening, and blood quickly pours out of it across his blue-grey skin.

“What the Hell?” You hop back as the guy crashes to his knees in front of you, the Beskar helmet silent beside you. You open your mouth to ask another question when he puts his other hand on the small of your back. He shrugs towards you and wipes the blood off his glove on his pants. With a slight amount of pressure, he leads you into the cantina, past the thinning crowd of onlookers who saw him ruin a drunk guy’s day.

Inside the cantina, you see an older guy wave over to your pairing, “Mando! Nice of you to finally join me. Who’s this?”

Huh, Mando? I guess he is an actual Mandalorian. You smile slightly as you approach the table, but quickly stop at another increase of pressure on your lower back.

The modulator crackles a bit before Mando responds, “She works for me.” You stare at him as he sets down four tracking fobs on the table before settling into the booth.

“Ah,” the man turns to you. “Mando’s never been one for words. Hopefully you won’t mind that too-“

“Karga. The pucks.” As Mando speaks to the man, you feel his hand lightly brush your knee under the table before coming up to rest in front of him. He clasps his hands and leans toward him.

“Mando, how many times have I asked you to call me Greef. We’re friends!” He waves at a droid for shots of spotchka. You immediately down yours, trying to quell the nerves and whatever else you feel fluttering in your stomach. Greef Karga laughs, “Maker, Mando. It’s always business with you. Take a break.”

“No, the pucks.” He ever so slightly looks at you, only enough for you to notice. Somehow you get the feeling you upset him by drinking the spotchka, but the fuzzy feeling in your head makes you not care.

Greef Karga waves at another person in the room and instructs them to start the unload. “I’ve only got a few pucks this time, but you can have your pick Mando. The bodies will be unloaded shortly,” he says as he reaches into his pocket and removes seven pucks. Mando slowly flips through them, his movements direct rather than lazy. He pockets four.

“Lets go,” he lightly tugs at your arm before exiting the booth, nodding at Greef Karga before the man can say anything else. You offer him a slight smile before trailing after Mando and the floating capsule.

You walk back to the ship in silence, walking faster than normal to keep up with his huge strides. You notice how subtle he is about looking around, whereas you blatantly look at your surroundings, taking them all in, calculating any possible threats.

That’s the first similarity you notice between the two of you, that you both have an air of caution as you leave the city.

When you get back to the ship, you stop in your tracks, looking up at the massive piece of metal in front of you. It looks old, but obviously has enough fighting power. You can see the multiple mounted cannons it has. Before you realize how much you’re gawking at the gunship, he stops walking and turns around. As you continue to take in the machine in front of you, he walks back to your side, ducking his helmet next to your ear and speaking low, “Shower. Then I’ll show you around the Crest.” He doesn’t wait for your response before heading up the ramp, but you know he sees your flushed skin.

You quickly follow him up the ramp and notice a door to the left that has what looks to be a shower head. You’ve never taken an actual shower with water though, so you aren’t completely sure and look to him for an explanation. His modulated sigh comes through the helmet just as the ramp closes behind you, and he reaches in to turn a knob which is followed by water and immediately steam starts filling up the hull. Without a word he heads up the ladder, only stopping to make sure the little capsule follows.

Once you know he’s gone, you undress and step into the warm water. It stings at first, whether because of the few left over cuts on your body or because of the new sensation. The soap you bought at the small shop lathers up quickly and you scrub at your skin as hard as you can without making the bruises painful. Your hair has never felt so soft, the refreshers you were used to before being on Arvala-7 were only equipped with sonic showers that constantly dried out your hair and made it frizzy. While being held at the encampment, you only remember being splashed with cold water once a week, but you never remember bathing.

Maker, I probably smell horrible. Can he smell through that helmet?

Afraid of wasting water, you struggle to turn the knobs off. After a few attempts resulting in either freezing water or scalding water, you finally figure the system out before realizing you have no way to dry off.

A jolt rumbles through the gunship that makes you think it entered hyperspace, so you risk peeking outside of the fresher to see if you’re alone. There’s a soft towel hanging next to the door which you gratefully take, realizing he probably came back down here to leave it there. You cross the room, hair dripping wet, to where your bag is laying on the cot. Dressing quickly, you start to feel lighter, the stiffness in your shoulder and hand lessening. You can even open your right eye fully, though it’s still a bit tender around your cheek. Unfortunately you notice there’s no mirrors, so you can’t know for sure how horrid you still look. After quickly braiding your hair, you pack the rest of your new things into the duffel and grab the bag of left over credits. You decide to stay barefoot, enjoying this small increment of time that you aren’t walking on bloody dirt. Instead of looking around, you decide to climb up the ladder to what you assume is the cockpit.

You’ve gathered that he doesn’t like talking, probably less than you do, so instead of greeting him in the pilot chair, you set the credits down and take a seat in the co-pilot chair. You don’t even notice the huge green ears peeking out of the capsule, yet.

He glances at the bag of credits, “Those are yours.” The modulator cracks, but somehow brings a small sense of comfort to you.

“What?”

“When I told Karga that you work for me, I was serious. Unless… you don’t want to.” Something about the way he says the last part makes you think he doesn’t second guess himself very often, but wants to give you a choice. With a sudden jolt, you realize he isn’t trying to keep you as a prisoner, he rescued you to give a choice. You look over at him, trying to understand anything you can from his body language but he stays completely still, the only hint that he isn’t actually a droid is the slight modulated breathing you can hear.

“O-okay. What’s the job then?” You turn to look at the streaking lights of stars in hyperspace, trying to hide a slight smile at the fact you’re free to make any choice you want.

After years, you’re free.

“That,” he turns slowly and points at the green face poking out of the capsule. Giant black eyes stare right at you as you turn to look at it. Whoever is behind the helmet stares at you, maybe expecting more of a reaction than you give, but instead you get up and walk over to the child and stick a finger out to it.

It babbles.

“So this is what I heard when I woke up in the hull?”

He doesn’t answer you, just nods. Normally, you wouldn’t mind the silence but you need answers.

“I’ll take the job on one condition: answer my questions.” Your voice is stern, and though you don’t notice it, his body stiffens at being spoken to so bluntly. He inclines his head a little, watching you, inviting you to ask. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Mando.”

You straighten and look at him, set on making him understand you aren’t afraid of whatever power he supposedly holds. “That’s not a name.”

“No.”

“Then-”

“That’s what you can call me.” His head tilts as he watches you start to pace.

“Fine. How’d you find me and why?”

He stares at you for a few beats before answering, “I didn’t.” You don’t say anything, letting the silence stretch until he’s forced to elaborate. “I was on a bounty when I saw you fighting the first time. You won that one.”

It almost sounds… like he chuckles behind the helmet. You scowl.

“I came back, I wasn’t expecting you to be close to dead though.”

“You-you came back? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He turns back to the controls, signaling that the conversation is over. You sigh, turning back to the child. He reaches up his six fingers to you and you pick him up, lifting him easily out of his blankets. A silver ball falls to the ground, but within seconds it zooms into his little palm.

“What the hell?” You jump a little. Did you imagine that?

You jump when you look up to see a chest full of Beskar standing in front of you, you can see the gradual rise and fall of it before he answers, “He does that.” Mando’s tone tells you he doesn’t have anything else to say before he heads down the ladder and you hear clinking in the hull before the shower turns on again.

#the mandolarian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin reader insert #reader x din Djarin #din djarin smut

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bosspigeon · 4 years ago

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Adam versus that most evil of foes...the office printer?

two glass houses, twenty stones

Pairing: M!Detective/Adam du Mortain Word Count: 1711 Summary: Having recently learned that he is the target of a power-hungry vampire who wants to experiment on him because of his “special blood” (oh, yeah, and vampires are real, apparently), Detective Arlo Priestley deals with the aftermath. The aftermath, of course, including one Adam du Mortain and his sparkling personality.

So... I don’t even know what to say anymore. I get completely innocuous prompts and they become something COMPLETELY different than what i had in mind. so, uh, hope you enjoy an Arlo Character Study with a side of Printer Shenanigans! This takes place in Book 1, shortly after the detective finds out about, uh, everything. I had fun playing the unreliable narrator with Arlo! And I have a fun idea for a sequel that’s Adam’s POV! Title is from Type O Negative’s “I Don’t Wanna Be Me.”

“You can, uh, sit down if you’d like,” Arlo offers, picking at the chipped polish on his thumb.

Adam hardly glances at him, keeping his attention on the window that overlooks the rest of the police department. “I am fine standing,” he says shortly. It almost seems like he’s determined to not look directly at the detective at all.

Arlo winces a bit, blowing a loose strand of hair out of his face. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine too,” he mumbles, looking down at his pile of reports. He brushes the accumulated black paint chips he’s shed in his anxious fidgeting aside. He’ll have to paint his nails again soon, they’re looking rather ragged, almost to the point he can bite them again. He’s been trying to stop, he knows it’s sort of gross, but still…

He furrows his brow and starts thumbing through reports, absently flicking through his color-coded tabs that help keep him marginally organized even when his “system” doesn’t really work for anyone but him. He calls it improvisational. Verda calls it “slapdash.”

He frowns, chewing on his lower lip and clicking his tongue when he notes his color system is out of order, and that one of the red tabs is missing. His eyes flicker up when he hears Adam shift slightly, but the vampire still isn’t looking at him, so he focuses back in, counting through reports again. He sighs and rolls his eyes, turning to his computer and pulling up his group chat with Tina and Verda.

big-depeche-mood: Tina, did you take my copy of Mrs. Holt’s police report?

big-depeche-mood: And why did you change my display name again?

BubblegumB!tch: how do u know i did it? why do u always blame me? 😥

big-depeche-mood: Because Verda has no reason to care about Mrs. Holt claiming her ex kidnapped the dog when they separated.

big-depeche-mood: And if you mean the display name, you’re the only one with admin privilege, because you made this chat.

BubblegumB!tch: i am being unfairly targeted 😭😭😭

BubblegumB!tch: im taking this to HR

DoctorDILF: HR has found no evidence to support this claim.

DoctorDILF: Really, Tina?

big-depeche-mood: Just tell me if I need to print another copy, please.

BubblegumB!tch: 👉👈

Arlo rolls his eyes and minimizes the window so he can start the task of going through his backlog to find the digital copy of the original report. Once he’s found it and sent it to the printer, he pushes himself upright, groaning as his spine pops in several places

Adam finally, finally turns to look at him. “Where are you going?” he snaps.

Arlo flinches, clenching his jaw to bite back the nasty retort burning on his tongue like acid. “To the printer,” he grits out, jerking his hand towards the window. “Literally twenty feet away. So unless you plan to go get that report for me, let’s just hope the megalomaniacal vampire that wants to use me as a lab rat doesn’t decide to snatch me from a police station in broad daylight.”

Seems he didn’t bite it back hard enough after all.

Adam recoils, like he always seems to when he realizes he's stepped directly on Arlo's nerves. He feels a little guilty for snapping, but he’s had more than enough of being treated like an unruly toddler. He wants to snidely suggest Adam see about requisitioning a bloody leash for him, but he snatches up a pen and starts furiously clicking it until he can calm himself down instead. Adam’s lip twitches, and Arlo clicks faster.

Adam turns sharply on heel and stalks out the door, slamming it behind him so hard the window rattles. Arlo is just grateful it hasn’t broken.

He sinks back into his chair and rolls his eyes skyward, dragging his hands down his face and wondering what the hell he’s done to deserve this whole situation. It’s bad enough he knows there’s some mad scientist vampire wanting to experiment with his freakish blood, but being shut in the same room as Adam for multiple hours a day when the man won’t even look at him, much less talk to him, makes nerves squirm under his skin and sets his whole body on edge. Unfortunately for the both of them, when Arlo gets nervy, it gets much harder for him to temper what comes out of his mouth.

He melts into his chair a little more, ignoring the pings from his computer that are probably Verda trying to convince Tina to change his display name back, and Tina reacting by changing it to increasingly ridiculous things. He just closes his eyes and focuses on breathing for a bit, trying to remember a single thing from his anger management classes from years ago when his brain is still buzzing with a squirming twist of irritation and guilt, a desperate need to apologize warring with the urge to snap and unload every frustration this whole thing has got knotted up inside him.

It's some sort of cosmic joke that Adam occupies so much of his attention, when Adam seems like he can't wait until he can get as far away from Arlo as possible.

He's just pretty, Arlo tells himself. Remember the last time you let someone pretty get you all stupid? Maybe remember what you learned from that.

He almost falls out of his chair when he opens his eyes to see Adam in the doorway, his shoulders so taut they're making Arlo's hurt just looking at them.

Maybe stop looking at them, idiot.

He forces his eyes up and is confronted with perhaps one of the most bewildering things he's ever seen.

Adam du Mortain, stoic, no-nonsense, terminally brooding Adam du Mortain, is standing just outside Arlo’s office, looking almost... sheepish. Arlo has to blink a few times to make sure he’s not seeing things. He’d almost say he’s imagining things, but at this point he’s so familiar with Adam’s general stone-faced demeanor that any sort of change to it is almost glaringly obvious. The scrunch of his eyebrows, the twist of his mouth, the almost painful stiffness of his posture, as if he’s pointedly trying to look as unaffected as possible and failing spectacularly. Arlo’s a detective, and while he doesn’t consider himself an expert at reading people, he’s still fairly decent at it. Adam, from time to time, can be pretty easy to read, but especially when he’s trying not to be.

Maybe Arlo’s been watching him a bit too closely.

“Uh,” he starts, already cringing internally at himself, “what’s up?”

Adam is silent for a moment, and then he exhales sharply through his nose, as if he is trying to calm himself down. Arlo’s nerves immediately ratchet up a few notches. “There is an issue with your printer,” he says.

Arlo blinks. “Oh. Um, I didn’t think you’d actually—” He bites his tongue when Adam’s brows furrow harder. “Let’s go have a look, shall we?” he offers instead, standing up. He hesitates to approach the door until Adam takes a step back to allow him through unimpeded. He lets Arlo lead the way and Arlo tugs his braid over his shoulder so he can twist it between his hands, because there is something a bit unnerving about Adam behind him, silent but radiating a tension Arlo can almost feel. It’s likely his imagination, considering his annoying awareness of the man, but still.

Arlo sees the problem almost immediately upon arriving at the little alcove that houses the station’s printer. The top cover for the document feeder seems to have been pulled off entirely. He turns to give Adam a bewildered look.

“The paper jammed,” Adam says stiffly.

“Yeah,” Arlo replies, “it does that sometimes.” He lifts the cover and turns it over in his hands, to see that, yes, the little plastic hinges that attach the feeder to the tray are entirely broken off. He frowns a little. Adam is so tense next to him, so still, Arlo wonders if he’s even breathing. “I can just ask Verda if I can send it to his, then see about calling someone for repairs.” He snags a sharpie from Tina’s desk and pops open one of the other trays to pull out a blank sheet of paper so he can write a quick “Out of Order” sign and slap it on top.

Adam still hasn’t moved, staring at the printer as if it has somehow personally offended him.

“It’s fine, Adam,” Arlo insists quietly, stepping a bit closer with his hands raised, though he doesn’t dare to touch. “Really. It’s a shitty old printer. I bet the second I let Tina know, she’ll go pester Doug until he calls his dad about it. We’ll have a shiny new one in no time.” He offers a wry little smile. “Say what you like about nepotism, but it has its perks.”

That doesn’t seem to help in the way Arlo hoped it would, because Adam raises an eyebrow and gives him a sharp look that has him shrinking back. “I am surprised you have that attitude, Detective.” He doesn’t have to say he’s disappointed, Arlo can hear it loud and clear and hates that it bothers him so much.

He steps back and turns away so Adam doesn’t see the look on his face before he can smooth it over. “Well, it’s the reason I’m here, isn’t it?” he can’t help but snark. “And it’s the only reason you’re here too. Explains a lot about your attitude, I suppose.” No wonder Adam’s been so bloody sour about all this. Must be a pain to have to babysit your boss’s kid because she said so. His silence on the subject speaks more than he could hope to.

More than anything Arlo wishes Rebecca could just go back to ignoring him. Things were a lot less complicated then.

Shoulders tight enough to rival Adam’s, Arlo heads towards the stairs to the basement. “I’m going to get that report,” he tosses over his shoulder, trying and failing to sound casual as Adam’s eerily quiet footsteps begin to follow him. “I’ll try not to get kidnapped on the way,” he adds under his breath.

The way Adam’s footsteps falter tell him he wasn’t quiet enough.

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