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mixvyu · 2 years ago

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Parfum d’étoile - episode twelve part two

scaramouche x reader smau

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★-

"Weren’t you suppose to be smart?"

"Fuck off Scaramouche, this shit just doesn’t make sense how am I supposed to link those three completely different subjects together?"

"I hate to side up with him, i really do, i swear, but it’s actually kind of easy frankly the hardest is to pick which info we keep and which one we ditch."

You could Scaramouche snicker beside you but you decided not to give him the time of day

"Let’s just save that and come back to it later, yeah?" You suggested, trying to shift the conversation to another topic.

“It’s getting late we should probably just call it a day" Kazuha said, looking at the time on his phone.

"Thank gods i don’t think i could spend one more minute working with her" Scaramouche added, pulling out his own phone "What do you guys want to eat?"

"Aww, you’re not throwing me out? I’m flattered, Kuni." you emphasised both of the syllables of the nickname.

You could hear Kazuha choke on his 4th cup of tea of the evening "Wow I didn’t know you guys were close like that" he said in between coughs.

"Neither did I. Don’t call me that." Scaramouche replied, almost instantly, while looking deep into your eyes. The humour in his demeanour long forgotten.

"Why does Kazuha get to call you that but I can’t? It’s unfair if you ask me." you said, trying to lighten up the mood even just a little bit.

"I’ve known him for more than a decade it’s completely different." discomfort settled in before Scaramouche continued with a more lighthearted tune "What food do you like, Y/N?" The question made you sigh in relief. Maybe he wasn’t mad, maybe it just caught him off guard.

"I like Italian food!" You exclaimed enthusiastically at the thought of a meal that you wouldn’t have to pay with the small amount of money left in your bank account.

"Ok so not that. Kazuha?" Scaramouche followed, eyes focusing on the other man beside you.

"Japanese sounds good right now" he answered immediately. He looked so focused on the ceiling on top of him the fact that he even listened to Scaramouche’s question had you shocked.

"Can’t believe you out of all people is letting me down."

"Sorry, a sacrifice had to be made." Kazuha teased, still looking at the beige ceiling

Scaramouche replies a lazy "mkay" to his friends request and gets up to call a japanese restaurant he apparently already had in his contact, probably because of the frequency of take-out the two boys regularly ordered. Judging by the fact that he hadn’t asked any of you what you wanted to order, you assumed he already had his and Kazuha’s orders memorised and that you’d just have to be okay with whatever he’d order for you.

If he even ordered for you, that is.

"What in the world possessed you to call him that?" Kazuha hushed voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

He wasn’t looking above him anymore and gave you what appeared to be an alarmed looked.

You didn’t get what he was talking about at first, but without thinking much you realised this was about you stealing the nickname he used for Scaramouche and the not-so-great reaction that followed.

"I just wanted to get his reaction, didn’t think he’d get all serious." You explained. It was simply reasoning really.

"Yeah, he really doesn’t like his birthname. At all."

"Why?"

"Uh… I think it’d be best to ask him directly." Kazuha said, looking away for the first time during the conversation

"He’d kill me if i did that!" you whispered-yelled

He looked back at you, then looked to the left. He seemed deep in reflexion, pouting a little and letting out a small "mm" sound before staring at you again "I don’t think he’d do more than manhandle you a bit, frankly, maybe a punch of two."

"Why are you acting like it’s nothing much?? I don’t want to get punched or manhandled! At all!" You grabbed your own cheeks out of instinct, as if you were protecting yourself from Scaramouche’s imminent hit.

"Then you’ll have to live in ignorance." he shrugged, grabbing one of the snacks on the table before realising that dinner will arrive any time soon and putting it back down.

"Can’t you tell me instead?" You pleaded, attempting to woo him with puppy dog eyes

"I don’t want to be the one he’ll pick a fight with." The wooing was ineffective

"I sacrificed Italian for japanese food, you can sacrifice that!" you were shaking him by now, you’re sure that, if he’d ask, you’d go as far as to plead on your knees for him to give you the answer you so deeply wanted.

"It’s not remotely close! You can have Italian later but i can’t get unbeaten up!" He said, still whispering

"You’re just a coward."

"What are you guys whispering about?" Scaramouche came back, having seemingly finished his phone call.

You were sweating a bit and your eyes were wide open, you looked like you’ve be caught red handed.

A long "uhh" left your mouth, you looked back at Kazuha hoping he’d be the one to find a non-suspicious reply to give to the man standing in front of you both.

"You."

You wanted to slap him so badly.

"What about me?" Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious of the topic you guys were discussing, and you couldn’t blame him : if someone told you they’ve been murmuring about you behind your back (literally), you’d be curious too.

"Y/N wanted to know why you changed your name."

You kicked Kazuha’s legs and he let out a soft, almost inaudible, "ow"

Scaramouche squinted, analysing your face. You gulped nervously, praying that there was an option other than the punching or manhandling.

"Not telling." He simply said, making a "umph" sound as he crossed his arms.

You simply looked at Kazuha, who was already looking at you, amused.

"Sorry, i might have exaggerated." he stated, a huge grin creeping on his face

Before you could curse him out he got off of the sofa for the first time in hours. Right as he got up, the purple head let himself fall down on your other side, apparently tired from standing for 5 minutes.

"I’ll go get the cans of beer i bought" the white and red haired man said, stretching before making his way to the kitchen

"You bought beer?" Scaramouche asked enthusiastically

"What? You didn’t even unload the groceries?" You could both hear him from the small kitchen, the sound of rustling through the groceries he bought some hours ago making itself audible

"No, I was lazy so I just put the bag up on the counter and left."

Kazuha sighed and mumbled "There was ice cream in there…"

He came back a few seconds afterwards, a pack of six cans in hands.

"Ooh nice." Frankly, you didn’t really like the taste of beer but maybe drinking with the two guys would make you all closer and you were excited at the thought.

Scaramouche leaned in and whispered into your ear "Don’t get too excited, he’ll drink all of this before you even get the chance to lay your hand on one of the can. He has a serious substance abuse problem."

"Maybe you should call a doctor or do an intervention or something." you whispered back

"He’ll be fine. Probably."

— timeskip :3

Not even 2 hours later, Kazuha was already asleep. His lower back resting on your laps and his head on Scaramouche’s who used that as an opportunity to play with his friend’s hair, undoing his signature ponytail and trying out a variety of haircut on his longer hair.

A comfortable silent had installed itself, only the soft sound of the raindrops crashing against the window was audible.

Your phone was next to you but the idea of being on it during the moment felt impolite. You glanced at Scaramouche, for the nth time since Kazuha fell asleep, a small smile was plastered on his face.

Being abled to run his fingers through Kazuha's seemingly soft hair apparently made him euphoric.

The sight of the two boys made you chuckle, a chuckle that Scaramouche caught up on.

"What's so funny ?"

"You look so happy, it's unsettling."

"I never get to touch his hair, it's super soft."

The conversation ended here but, for some reason, you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"I didn't know they made them cropped."

"Huh?" Scaramouche finally looked up to you.

"The compression shirts. I didn't know that there was cropped ones."

"Ooh!" He looked down at his shirt as if he'd forgetten which one he put on "I don't know if they exist cropped. I cut this one myself to show off the piercings." he let out a chuckle, a low one, before staring back down at Kazuha's sleeping face.

You looked up at the clock.

10:29pm

The gates of the school closed at 11:30 which meant you still had an hour to learn more about the boy next to you.

Scaramouche had always intrigued you but now that you were closer to him you really wanted to get the answers for all the questions in your mind.

You looked at his face deeply, analyzing the features of his face.

Scaramouche really was a pretty boy. Big purple eyes complimented by the red eyeliner he wore everyday, porcelain skin, long fingers and a small frame. He looked so ethreal, almost like a doll.

Scaramouche picked up on the looks you gave him, he could feel you staring without even looking at you.

"If you have something to say just say it."

‘You look really pretty’ was what you wanted to say to him— because he did look really pretty.

But you uttered something completely different in the end,

"Why’d you change your name?"

He groaned before looking up at you for the second time in an hour.

"I didn’t like it. I already told you."

"Yeah but why?"

"Why do you even care anyway?"

"I don’t know, you’re an interesting guy, i just want to get to know you more." You shrugged as he raised his eyebrows, not really convinced by what you were saying.

Since he wasn’t replying you added "You don’t have to tell me! It’s just— I’m just curious is all."

He chuckles lightly and says in a serious tone "I know I don’t have to, I don’t owe you anything."

Silence installed itself again.

God why did you have to be so pushy about it ? He obviously didn’t want to tell you, it’s some personal issue that he only share with his best friend, you’re not remotely close enough to be given the same amount of trust than his best friend of a decade. He was warming up to you and you ruined everything : Why do you always ruin everything?

You fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find something to make it up to him. Maybe you should just apologise again or—

"It’s just that…" all of the thoughts in your head suddenly went quiet as he started to speak "…I don’t like the history behind that name. It being related to my mom and all, you know?"

You actually did not know.

You never heard about Scaramouche’s mom before so hearing him mention her was surprising.

"Ooh so it’s like a mommy kink typa thing!"

"I’m pretty sure you meant mommy issues but whatever." he sighs before mumbling "I don't even know why I'm telling you that."

"I won't call you that again if it makes you uncomfortable"

"No, it's fine, you don't have to stop."

"Scaramouche?"

"God, what now?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

The man in front of you paused before straightening his back and laughing softly

"What's with all the questions?"

"Dunno, just curious I guess. Don't you think it's fun? It's like 21 questions."

"21 questions? How old are you?"

"You're the one that wanted to play last time"

"Really? I don't remember that."

"I know you do stop lying."

"Why do you even care ?"

"Just say you're a loser virgin, no need to circle around it."

"it's the pot calling the kettle black." he mumbled

"What did you say ?"

"Nothing. No I'm not dating anyone."

"Not even Kazuha ?"

"He's just with me for money, i don't surround myself with that kind of people." He answered while braiding the man's hair ironically.

"Oh so you did know!"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing! I don't mean anything!"

"What about you?"

"Me? I didn't even know you wee rich before Kazuha said it"

"No dumbass! I was asking if you were dating anyone."

A huge grin crept on your face "Why? You wanna take me on a date? I'm flattered really but I'm not interested, sorry."

"I wouldn't go on a date with you even if my life depended on it."

"No I'm not dating anyone. I'm not the kind of person people want to kiss apparently." You laughed quietly

'God why did i say that' you wanted to slap yourself—the last comment was really unnecessary.

"You think so ?" Scaramouche asked but you didn't answer. He continued anyway " I'd kiss you."

"What?"

"Huh? I said I'd kiss you." He repeated, nonchalantly.

You were sure that he just said that to tease you and that he'd reply a sing-songy "Nothing" when you questionned him, but he looked as serious as ever.

"Ah- uh really ? You think ?"

"Sure, probably."

You looked at the clock again and Scaramouche's gaze followed yours.

10:58pm

"Is it time for you to go home ?"

You nodded yes subconsciously even though it was a lie, you still had 30 more minutes before the gate would close.

"I'll help you clean up before I leave" You said looking over at the table decorated by dozens of sheets, multiple empty cups of tea, various snacks, an opened small packages of edibles that magically appeared into Kazuha's hands during the evening, empty Dr. Pepper and beer cans and three dirty plates stacked on top of each other.

"It's fine, it's not a huge mess I can take care of that myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah it should take me 5 mins at best. Let's go, I'll walk you home."

"Oh you don't have to!"

"It's 11pm and your house is close anyway, it's fine."

"I wouldn't want to bother you."

"God you're so fucking annoying, let's just go!"

"Ok! Ok! Geez..."

— timeskip :3

The walk back home was bathed in silence. You wanted to speak up but you knew how much the man beside you hated small talk.

You don't know when exactly you became cautious of what he might think of you knowing that you would've done everything to see him in pain just a week prior.

Maybe it was because he was rapidly warming up to you for some reason, probably because of the proximity forced onto the both of you; you talked to him more these past 3 days than you ever did in the 2 years of being his classmate and self-proclaimed rival.

You didn't know why but you liked the feeling of being closer to Scaramouche, despite all the rumours he was easy to talk to and you could now imagine how a man like Kazuha would find himself drawn to him.

If Lumine could hear you she'd be dissapointed.

Even though he was kind of nice, you still hated parts of him especially those cocky smiles he'd give you that signified that he thought he was better than you in every way, shape or form, or the fact that he always seemed to surpass you in grades but still didn't put up any work while on the project a few hours earlier.

God he was so fucking annoying.

You couldn't refrain yourself from slapping him in the back of the head harshly.

"Ow!" he exclaimed loudly, more surprised than actual hurt "What the fuck was that for?!"

"You're so fucking annoying, Kuni." it was your second time using the nickname and you hoped that he wouldn’t react badly this time.

"I didn't do anything! I-! You-! I wasn't even talking!"

"Your aura threw me off."

"Yeah well I'm sorry my aura isn't good enough for you!"

"I appreciate the apology. You should go home now."

"What so you're just going hit me and throw me away? That's hurtful."

"I live right around the corner and it's..." you checked your phone "...11:13 so you should probably head back. Plus you're tired so you should just sleep."

"Tired? I'm not tired, what are you talking about?"

"Huh? Didn't you say you started talking nonsense when you were tired ?"

"When did I speak nonsense?" it was a real question this time, just by his face you could understand that he was currently replaying the entire day in his head and asking himself when he fucked up

"I mean you literally said you'd kiss me" You looked confused but not as confused as Scaramouche was

"Yeah and I meant that."

"Just- Just go home, Scaramouche."

"Ok, whatever. Goodnight, Y/N"

"Mhm" You managed to mumble before he walked away

God why were you like this??

Extras :

Why do I write Kazuha and Scara so homo w each other

Sorry for the late update (i have absolutely no excuse)

In the draft i worked on at first Y/N and Scara almost kissed before Kazuha called and interrupted them but i decided against it jst because

You ever just write something , think "it's cringe" to yourself but still post it or is it just a me thing

Scara defo fell to his knees and screamed into his hand after turning a corner

Taglist! [open]

@gekkow @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangel @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @mitsu-moshi

#scaramouche #genshin #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fanfic #genshin x reader #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin smau #wanderer smau #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi smau #★彡 parfum d’étoile

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plinko-mori · 22 days ago

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My favourite work from Rintarou Mori was Vita Sexualis. Now (since a long time ago lol) it is Moso <3 in Spanish it is translated as «Ilusiones» that literally means «Illusions» and in some contexts it can mean «Fantasies» I don't know how the work is called officially in English though I'm so sorry

So for everyone to have context about why Mori wrote it, there was this opinion that Rintarou hated and it said something like: ”Japan is a backward, poor and dirty county, plagued by diseases and dominated by barbaric customs, which indiscriminately imported Western customs and techniqued that weakened it, and whose esteemed culture was devastated by the Japanese themselves“. And Rintarou Mori, an author known for not knowing when to shut up, not because he spoke too much, but because when he sees something that he doesn't like, he speaks so freely about it and Natsume knows about it lol

In this short work from 1911, Mori explains his reasons of why that statement is absolutely incorrect, and there's a quote that I love a lot"

“From the time I was born until today, what have I done. I study relentlessly as if someone is whipping me, whipping me constantly. I think I do it to develop myself, to be able to fulfil a task. Maybe a part of this goal can be fulfilled. But it seems to me that what I do is nothing more than playing, like an actor, a role on stage. I feel that beyond the role I play, there must be something more. I feel that I am constantly being whipped and stimulated, so that I have no time to let go. The child who studies, the young man who studies, the civil servant who studies, they all play a role. One day I'll wash my face painted in red and black and get off the stage. I wish to think of myself calmly and see how it is something behind. With these thoughts I continue to play role after role, while the stage manager whips my back. I am sure that this performance is not life. I sense that the something that is behind me is nodding off again and falling asleep. Lately I feel nostalgic for my people; I am like the grasses that float and move with the waves in the distance and continue their undulating movement, and sometimes with the shaking they tremble to the roots, and this does not correspond to the role I play on stage. But this feeling, as soon as I raise my head, is erased”

Mori you wanted to defend your idea why were you doing a conclusion of you being a slave of your own thoughts, reputation and the standards with what people (specially your parents) expected from you also WHY IS THAT SO RELATABLE

The author is so human, traumatized and very much autistic, but it's so realistic and relatable... I don't know if I have analyzed the quote here before, if I have done it I'm so sorry 😭

Anyway Mori and samurais were topics extremely connected. His mother was a descendant of samurais, black is a colour associated with them and to weddings, being seen as a masculine colour in Japan. On the other hand, red in Japan is associated with peace, prosperity of family and even justice only in Kabuki Theater performances!

Kabuki is a genre of traditional Japanese theater, dating all the way back to the Edo Period (1603-1867)

The quote I shared is like less than 4 pages to the end of the work. It helps for reflexion and is one of the few times that the author opens his heart to the reader, where he shares things, but he's doing his maximum effor to show that Japanese and his people aren't weak... Although, it's almost obvious (at least for me) that deep in the inside he's not as strong as he claims to be, he can also be vulnerable, but he can't go back anymore because he already started walking that way to being an author, a doctor, a strong person that not only people hated but even felt afraid of Mori!

Unlike Vita Sexualis, Ilusiones is not a semi-autobiography, it's not a novel or a long book... But it's so deep, so emotional in some parts that at least I felt connected to the author when I read it. Mori's purpose is for you to think like him, to see his point, and he knows how to make sense to people that it can be shocking reading his works

Do you see any of this in BSD? I do. But what about you all?

#bsd mori #bsd ougai mori #bsd ogai mori #bsd mori ogai #bsd mori ougai #rintarou mori #bsd mori analysis #plinko mori #bsd analysis

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legacygirlingreen · 7 months ago

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Mornings on Pabu

For week 4 of @summer-of-bad-batch's alt prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen"

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: An early morning on your lovely island home leads to some reflexion on how hard your lover has been working... and possibly explaining why that is...

*** no use of Y/N ***

Warnings: mildly suggestive, mentions of having children, no actual baby making activity I promise! mostly fluff! Domestic but non sexual nudity!

Word count: 2k

MASTERLIST

Rustling curtains and the muted sound of crashing waves were the perfect lull from sleep as you rolled over. Hair tumbling across the pillow as you did so, you blinked the caress of sleep away as your eyes focused while you moved. That’s not to say you weren’t careful of the dead weight from the arm perched over your waist. He rarely slept. Forcing him into the bed and to lay down - without that blasted datapad - was still a challenge after a year of island life.

You were finally free. Free of the Empire. Free of Dr. Hemlock. Free of the danger. Free to be at peace. Free to help give Omega the childhood she deserved. Free to heal those wounds both mental and physical. Free to love as you all saw fit. Free to have the lives you truly had always wanted.

Pabu was every bit the sanctuary Phee had promised. While you initially had been wary of the pirate - especially the way she continually flirted with Tech despite your unofficial yet apparent feelings for the man - you’d come to respect her in time. After a few drinks late one night, she admitted to flirting simply to push the two of you together. To her credit, her work along with the unscheduled descent that nearly claimed his life, it worked.

Tech was every bit of man you had longed for. Noble. Intelligent. Thoughtful. Sexy.

Even while sleeping, low rumbled snores escaping past his lips, he looked alluring. Those thick eyelashes that framed his deep brown eyes, visible due to removal of his staple goggles, which rested on his nightstand during the night. Skin having grown into a deep bronze with the sunlight, giving way with every deep inhale and exhale. His hair was an absolute mess, and finally grown to a length you wouldn’t have anticipated. No longer on the run, and needing to be practical, he’d let it go and given up on gel: meaning the carmel strands were curling around his neck and ears now instead of being cropped short and pushed back. Something about seeing him like this made you truly feel every ounce of raw arousal for him almost every moment in the day. The added freedom to slip away whenever you liked only increased the desperate need you both shared for one another.

The dark ink he’d always had marked in his skin, now accompanying two new additions. An oval design replicating Omega’s old headband along his bicep next to symbols he bore for all his siblings: Crosshair’s reticle design, a red band that stretched the entire circumference of his arm for Hunter’s bandana, a childish outline of lula for Wrecker, and Echo’s old handprint armor. He kept his siblings close to him, having marks for them just under his shoulder where their old squad logo lay. However the most recent addition to his body lay directly over his heart: your name in aurebesh.

Tech hadn’t warned you of the change, simply appearing one day with it over his pectoral and the explanation of, “I wanted to keep you close to heart”. Which promptly led to your heart beating as if it was going to bust. Well, that and some mind blowing time between the sheets to show just how much the gesture had meant to you. He still shrugged it off, as if the act were common sense. You beg to differ but were never going to argue with him over something so kind.

Laying next to him every morning had come to feel like a dream. Days on Pabu were met with Tech’s talent for mechanics being put to good use, while you took on random tasks assisting him. That didn’t stop the frequent routine of sharing meals with Shep and his daughter, Tech’s siblings and occasionally Phee. After which, you both would make it back to your own private domicile - something Tech requested after some time given he didn’t enjoy being quiet when it came to giving you pleasure - before hopping into bed together.

Initially the transition had been difficult on Omega. The girl not used to Tech being under a different roof and still anxious from his time captured on Tantis away from her watchful eye, but once she discovered that Tech’s absence meant she had her own escape from the other boys she finally came around.

Each morning had come to be filled with sweet whispers rousing you from sleep, as Tech often rose before you. Not long after you had arrived, you both began taking the mornings to swim, before the island awoke. The gentle breeze, the calm lapping waves, and the way Tech’s brown eyes looked at dusk: perfection.

However, with the amount he’d been working lately, you felt guilty about waking him up for something as trivial as a swim. He’d taken it on himself to fix all of lower Pabu, fortifying it against future storm surges so the island could function. This was great - if he wasn’t doing so single handedly, pushing off your attempts at helping him.

Carefully you tried to maneuver your way out from under his arm, hoping that you could be gone and back before he woke up, but when you had just gotten your foot out from under the covers, said arm tightened, trapping you under a sudden burst of strength. Immediately being alert and aware were side effects of his programming, meaning the first stroke of being awoken meant he was at full capacity to react almost suddenly.

Sighing you gave up, knowing you had failed to slip away without him realizing and just allowed the man to pull you back into his chest as he tangled your legs together. A gruff tone to his voice as he whispered, “You really think you’re going without me?” into the skin of your neck. The way he almost purred the words as he wrapped himself around your body made you melt as he continued, kissing your neck as he mumbled, “not going to happen…” along that spot that always made you squirm.

“I just wanted you to rest-” you began and his sweet kisses turned to a playful nip as he shook his head, turning you around before you could react and pulling you on top of his body. In doing so the covers tumbled to the floor, leaving his beautiful bare body full on display as his hands sought out your rear, giving it a squeeze as your face fell into the crook of his neck. He smelled musky, as if he’d sweat a bit in the night, but you didn’t mind as.

“I got more than enough rest to be sufficient for my body to complete its tasks for the day,” he commented, eyes blinking open as he adjusted to the first crack of light coming through the open window.

“Sufficient doesn’t mean you couldn’t do with a bit more sleep,” you grumble as that light puff of air that indicated a sudo laugh came from his nose and his arms tightened around your lower back.

“Not at the expense of missing out on our early morning routine,” he commented, mentally preparing to get going on the day. Where he discovered such energy in the morning you’d never know.

“Just one day wouldn’t be the end of the world,”

“I have a different opinion on the matter,” he challenged, reaching over to retrieve the goggles on the nightstand as you reached an arm up to stop him. He used them to hide from the world, but you refused to let him do so with you.

“You’ve been working so incredibly hard lately Tech, no one is going to get angry if you take a bit of a break,” you challenge as you remove your arm, seeing he gave up on reaching his frames.

“I am aware that there shall not be hostilities if I pause the rate at which I have been repairing the lower half of the city. But as I said, I have reasons for a differing perspective on the issue,” he states bluntly.

You loved Tech for many reasons. His brilliance. His ability to remain calm no matter the circumstances. Usually you enjoyed his bluntness, since it meant he was straight forward and there was no guessing. Having him dance around the issue was very out of the norm.

“Is something wrong?” you sighed through the question, leaning up on his chest as he looked around the room for a moment, letting his eyes settle back on you.

“No, I do not mean to cause worry or distress,”

“Then why can’t you tell me what it is that is causing you to work yourself to an early grave?” you question softly, hand cupping the side of his face as his eyes fluttered closed. Stubble caught along your thumb and you knew he’d shave it when he got out of bed, as he did every morning without fail. He loved his routines after all.

“I just want to make sure that this is a safe place for children,” he says quietly, eyes still closed.

“You know that ever since the wave, Shep moved the families with kids up above the wall, and allowed more of the older residents to migrate south. Omega is old enough she can handle herself anywhere on the island-”

“I am not talking about Omega,” Tech replies as he finally looks up, hopeful gaze in his eyes.

Suddenly it all made sense. The overprotective nature he’d had lately. His hard work repairing the lower section of the island. His hyperawareness at your health as of late. His acceptance of life here and mentioning how it was one of safety. Him pointing out neighbors with children and how fascinating they behaved.

“Tech, do you-” you began to ask and his eyes grew wide, almost as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

“I would never encourage something given we have not discussed it before, nor would I take actions you were not okay with. I hardly know your opinions on the matter…” he trailed off in a rare occurrence, hands dragging over his face as if to hide.

“But?” you press carefully, tone not indicating malice or frustration, simply a need to understand where he was coming from.

“But yes, I have found myself interested in the idea of possibly having children. Naturally that is. With you.” he said it all so simply despite the very apparent war he seemed to be having with himself for saying it out loud.

“Oh,” you whisper. To be frank, the idea hadn’t really crossed your mind. Not that you were against it, per say, just hadn’t really imagined it.

“We do not need to discuss it, and I shall continue fixing the walls regardless as it is a benefit to all who live here on Pabu-”

“Tech,” you cut him off with a small smile.

“Yes?”

“Can we continue this conversation out of bed? I would like to hear all your ideas on the matter but I’d like to be in a neutral location if we are going to discuss them. Besides, I’ll never get over how wonderful you look in that early morning light in the water,” you tell him softly.

Tech looks up hopefully into your eyes, seeing the way they soften for him. Something tells him that he has nothing to fear, as a practical discussion of such matters is important for anyone attempting to bring life into the world with the one they love. Especially for someone as logically minded as him. You can’t help but laugh at the way he nearly hurls you onto the floor as he begins rushing about the room, pulling on something to swim in while encouraging you to hurl it along.

It’s in that room where you decide perhaps he’s onto something, and that maybe the two of you are ready for those next steps. But for now, the sun and sand are calling your name. Well, that and your love, who can’t wait to talk about the future with you as the sun peaks over the horizon.

NOW CLICK TO READ PART TWO (NSFW)!!!

#tech bad batch #the bad batch #tbb fandom #sw tbb #tbb #tbb tech #tech lives #summer of bad batch #short prompt #tooth rotting fluff

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purpledinobomb · 2 months ago

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I really don't know what to think.

Before anything I've think a lot about what is following due to some author notes on ao3 saying goodbye to the Harry Potter fandom. (And their works were so great by the way not the subject here)

I'm in the Harry Potter fandom like so much other people

But I don't really share about it, because JK

As a person in the lgbtq+ community, I can't accept the pure hatred towards trans people. I can't accept the words of a woman who only talks to hate, and disguises it as feminism.

I know it's not a news and that I'm kind of late but I was quite young when it pop out, so yeah

I don't like the idea of spending time, energy, reflexion, love to the work of a terf,

I don't like the fact that I'm still so weak for Harry Potter like this universe hold so much memories and nourish a big part of my imagination.

So I wish I could claim that I won't give more time to her work.

But you know fanfictions

They are so special to me, they are so special as themselves. I could rant for a long time about how amazing they can be (but still not really the subject.)

And they permish a lot.

What I'm reading in the Harry Potter fandom can change time to time but most of it is full of headcanons, queerness, canon fix it, diversity. Because it's comforting, to read about characters that I love, where I feel seen and understood.

I've seen people saying that even turning Harry Potter as our own by writing fanfics or drawing fanarts it's still not that good because it's still promoting the original work. And to consume the fanfics you have to first consume the original

Yes, sure and I agree. However I think "trashing" Jk's precious little work is good, even if anyways she's a billionaire who probably doesn't give a fuck about what little me is reading/writing

I need this satisfaction to put queerness, and to change the story as my own (our because some headcanons are so seen that they sometimes become true to me), I need to see new works that are able to surprise me with always new ways to grow this actively queer community in fanfics.

Because I'm delusional and I refuse to let go the dream of Hogwarts, the dream of the escape.

I don't have answers, I don't want to judge anyone because everyone deal with that the way they want.

So I'm just saying, I love the freedom of fanfictions

I will continue, for now, to read political Harry Potter fanfictions, to read cute fix it, to read not so cute tragic slow burn, to read platonic beautiful fanfics, to read parental Snape, to read still an asshole Snape, to read works who feel like home because this is why I read fanfictions.

Maybe one day I'll say goodbye, maybe I'll never be able to do it, maybe one day jk will shut it up for two minutes, maybe one I'll have the right to exist peacefully

All I want to do for now is to jump fandom to fandom and to continue to spread what feels like home to me hoping it feels like home to others

(I did not edit that, I'm not a native english speaker so-, rant sorry not so sorry)

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #fuck jkr #anti jkr #protect trans kids #fanfictions #ao3 #harry potter ao3 #writers on tumblr

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elitadream · 1 year ago

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I’ve been wondering. When Bowser learns of Jr.’s friendship with Mario, would he ever go as far as using Kamek’s powers to brainwash/hypnotize Jr. into hating Mario as a last resort should his attempts to turn his son against the plumber continue to fail?

Maybe the thought would cross his mind. Maybe, in a fleeting moment of overwhelming anger and helplessness, he would even dare give it a second of reflexion or two.

But he could never.

While my Bowser is truly horrible as an individual, and especially as a foe, the love that he has for Junior is surprisingly healthy and sincere. He doesn't want to control his son. He just wants what's "best" for him, or what he considers to be from his own twisted and corrupted point of view. Bowser has a very flawed and skewed perception of most things, and he's much too selfish to outwardly acknowledge his faults, but he's still capable of feeling guilt and regret. And he would deeply regret doing such a thing to Junior.

He loves his son unconditionally, even though he doesn't understand his reasoning or motivation sometimes. And so, he would rather let him make his own choices than force him to do as he says, no matter how painful or humiliating.

#asks #mario #bowser #junior #bowser jr #concept #headcanon #personal portrayal #thoughts and ramblings

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valyrfia · 9 months ago

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Hello! I came to ask you to please write that essay you mentioned about how Charles is feminized in the fics, but you already beat me to it hahahah. Pero he de decir que coincido contigo en que se asigna una estructura heteronormativa a la dinámica de pareja y Charles acaba asumiendo el rol femenino, lo que se percibe como algo negativo debido en gran medida a la misoginia internalizada.

Personalmente, como ávido consumidor de fanfics, estas son caracterizaciones con las que siempre me encuentro y, francamente, me molestan. En el caso de Charles, lo describen como sumiso, ingenuo y con baja autoestima, en resúmenes con un carácter “débil”. Sinceramente no le veo nada malo si es con fines narrativos, pero el hecho de que muchos fanfics solo lo describan así o asuman que esa es su personalidad da mucho que pensar, sobre todo porque ignoran otros aspectos de La personalidad de Charles (o bueno, lo poco que sabemos sobre la personalidad de Charles, ya que no debemos olvidar que no lo conocemos y Charles solo muestra lo que quiere mostrar).

En fin, sólo decirte que valoro mucho tus reflexiones. 💕💕💕

Hi anon! I'm glad you agreed, and I agree with your points too. My issue is, and continues to be, when people can't divorce the narrative from the real person and these characterisations carry over into spaces where they shouldn't be. I'm going to expand wider than just RPF here and say the narrative around Charles' generally is sometimes a little much. Take this whole "haunted by tragedy" thing that Sky Sports was having a little too much fun with this weekend, with Damon Hill saying that the reason why Charles wasn't driving well was because he was distracted by grief? Sure, it makes for a good narrative to sell on your sports channel, but doesn't fit with the image of Charles who won Baku in F2 the weekend after his father died, and won his maiden grand prix the day after a childhood friend of his died.

It's so easy for all of us, fans to news pundits to talk about Charles battling with the circumstances of his life, whether it be those he's lost, or Ferrari being like a toxic ex he can never quite seem to leave, that it strips him of recognition of his own agency in a lot of ways. Charles has shown incredible mental strength in his life, and lest we forget, literally girlbossed his way to a legendary Ferrari contract. I got a few anons calling Charles mentally weak for not disobeying team orders in Japan, and I couldn't disagree more. This is a racing driver approaching his prime, who knew he could not defend on 20 lap newer tyres but ran an incredible race nonetheless. Charles is not a damsel in distress, he's an agent completely in control of his own destiny.

Speaking of destiny, the il predestinato nickname slaps, but I think is incredibly misleading for some people sometimes. When Charles wins a world championship, it won't be because he is 'destined' or 'fulfilling some prophecy', it will be due to his own choices, his own skill, his own talent, his own hard work. I think that Charles as a WDC is going to get hit with a VERY different narrative than the one we see now, one that acknowledges his hard work and agency in making his dream come true.

#charles leclerc #anon #asks

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pinksobg · 2 years ago

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.˚‧︵‿ . . 🫖🌷 . . ‿︵‧˚.

Tea with the hatter 🌷 茶/chá/tea

What would a person love about having tea with you? Let me hype you up <3

[ID: pile 1: a close up from yeonjun (tomorrow x together) looking to the camera, celebrating the new year (year of the rabbit). pile 2: lighted candles, they are heart shaped, some are in the color red and others in the color pink. pile 3: yeonjun with a hand up and head tilted, showing a tiara with bunny hears for the year of the rabbit (this year, oh my). he is also with a sweater in baby pink with a a little of white color (in both of his pictures). End of ID.]

for reflexion purposes only. 💞 ready? let's go! hello! <3 I missed you guys <3 hope you enjoy the reading. i love tea and having tea can mean having a good time, right? i remember doing a final work on school about alternative medicine and we studied a lot about the origin of tea, I love tea so much, and I'm happy that the word chá in my native language comes from Mandarin 茶, I was very glad to study all of that

Pile 1) your power of transmutation. it seems very clear here that you are a person who can solve any kind of problem. looks like you've done this a lot already. you look like the kind of hero who sits down at the tea table after a battle, and continues with the vitality to move on with life. hair in the wind and a radiant look, confidence. surely a hatter would love to be your friend, maybe he's a little intimidated by your posture and good looks for the first impressions, but afterwards he'd definitely feel protected by your loyalty.

cards: 9 of wands, 8 of swords.

Pile 2) hello pile two! you overflow with pure love energy. what else to say? you are a full cup. perhaps you would arrive at the tea table with a sweet or a cake in hand. what you do for people is very clear that you are filled with love. the people around you can trust you and you can always have good advice, company or a shoulder to lean on (when you are not the one who is needing a shoulder, what is totally normal too). this is very beautiful. your energy is of love. a person having tea with you would definitely be grateful for that, with your attention to that person, for example. grateful for you to being you.

cards: 4 of cups, ace of cups.

Pile 3) your pile seems to be screaming connection with music, am i right? I see you as a beautiful flautist. abundant too. very abundant. you seem like such a kind person. it seems that... you would be that flautist who dresses in green, and plays walking rhythmically and happily, with no second intentions, just enjoying the moment and your art of existing. you play beautiful songs in the hearts of others too, bringing hope. an animation you might like is "howl's moving castle". "say things you don't understand..." flowers - miley cyrus. I would love to have a tea with you for sure!

cards: 10 of pentacles, the chariot.

positive affirmations for all piles <3

A lot of blessings come in my way

I'm enough and I matter. I respect myself and I love myself

It's okay to feel confused sometimes, and clarification come easily to me when I ask

peace and love,

pinksobg

#tarotblr #tarot community #💞💞💞#pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #pick an image #tarot messages #tarotcommunity #goodnight 🌙

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maniculum · 1 year ago

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Google Docs vs. Geoffrey Chaucer

A while back, just for fun, I pitted Google Docs's fancy new (read: hilariously inept) machine-learning spellchecker against a chapter of my dissertation that contained a lot of quotations from Le Morte Darthur:

At the time I suggested I might go back and do the same with the chapters that included substantial quotation from the Canterbury Tales and (shudder) Piers Plowman... and today I find myself with little better to do, so let's give it a go. Below the cut.

Extremely helpful there, thanks. For the curious, gilofre is a plant; in Modern English it's gillyflower. Clowe is just "clove". "Clowe-galofre" is nowhere on Google or in the OED, but it seems "Galofre" is an attested surname, so Google thinks maybe that's what I meant.

Fascinating choices here. That is of course meant to be nutmeg, and Google Docs has seemingly decided that putting in a space to turn one misspelled word into two words, one of which is spelled correctly, is a positive development. That or this is a continuation of the previously-observed trend that Google turns things into brands and corporation as much as possible -- apparently there is a company called "Emuge-Franken", which is the only result for "emuge" on Google Search.

It hasn't gotten anything right so far, by the way -- all those red underlines I haven't screenshotted anything for, it either suggests a word that is wrong but unremarkably so, or fails to suggest anything.

(Never mind, it got a couple right in between the last one and this one.)

This is interesting in that it shows Google Docs interprets things differently based on capitalization. This instance of bityde is capitalized because it's at the beginning of the line; the other one in the phrase bityde what bityde, which isn't capitalized, Google is able to correctly interpret as "betide". However, it seems to think the first is a proper noun and makes different suggestions. (Blyde is the Afrikaans name of the Motlatse River in South Africa, it would seem.)

I am reluctantly forced to hand it to Google Docs with this one. Like, no, that's not what Chaucer meant of course, but I can respect the shot being taken. Also interesting that it gets the blue underline because you can't really spell a transliteration wrong, but that's not how the system we normally use renders it. Not sure why spere "spear" (Google suggests "sphere") and vestiments "vestments" (Google gets this one right) are also marked as blue (style/grammar) rather than red (spelling), though.

... and now I'm taking what I just handed to Google Docs back away. WTF is this? Why...? you know what, we're moving on.

Bafflingly, Google thinks there is nothing at all unusual about that first line. Yep, that's normal Modern English there.

And here's our first example in this post of Google Docs trying to suggest a spelling that is also in Middle English, because I very much suspect the data it uses has been contaminated. Actually, come to think, if their machine learning system bases its judgments on what other users write rather than the old system with a set dictionary, I bet all the people writing papers about pre-standardized-spelling English literature are really screwing up the data. Which is hilarious -- if true, that would mean that I'm actually part of the problem for writing this whole dissertation full of Middle English quotes in Google Docs.

You might think this is another example of the same, but in fact the change from -ioun to -ion makes that suspect, and the Middle English Dictionary doesn't recognize it without the <u>. And if you Google Refleccion, all the results are in Spanish. However, I can't seem to find it in a Spanish-English dictionary, and those same dictionaries tell me the Spanish for reflection is reflexion -- maybe this is a variant spelling? I only have basic high-school Spanish to draw on here, so if any of my followers are fluent and can explain refleccion to me, I would be interested to learn.

Hm... no, that's not right either. Although a quick Google search tells me that there is a YA book called Physik, so that's probably what's screwing up this one. Probably not ideal for that sort of thing to happen.

And this one, it seems, is French. (Again, according to the Middle English Dictionary, all the attested Middle English spellings have the <u> -- but the French cognate is in fact spelled just like Google suggests, as far as I can tell. I don't speak French at all, though, so grain of salt.) I wonder how that happened -- do non-English words just kind of drift into the machine-learning system's vocabulary? Possibly through the same mechanism I speculated about with the Middle English above -- i.e., people write documents that are mostly in English, but contain some quotations or something in other languages, and if that happens enough, Google starts to think it's an English word?

Wait, is that maybe what's screwing a lot of this up? Either Google's system is going "This document is in English, so all the words in it are English words" and thus stuff just keeps bleeding between languages and screwing up the dictionary, OR Google's system is just kind of language-agnostic and sees no issue with suggesting French words in a document that's mostly in English? Is this why there are so many words that aren't correct Modern English spelling, but which Google Docs doesn't mark wrong? Like, they happen to line up with words in other languages, so Google just thinks you're borrowing really haphazardly throughout?

Also, side note, it tried to correct "hir" to "hirt", which is not an English word, but apparently stands for High Impact Resistance Training. Moving on.

Shenden is a Middle English verb that basically means "to damage or destroy". You don't really see it much in Modern English, though the OED has a couple examples of 20th-century usage. Anyway, I thought this was another case of Google bringing in different Middle English words, but a quick search tells me "Sente" is a skincare brand. That's probably more relevant.

Google Docs again just ignoring whole lines.

Odd choice there, sight being closer than site in terms of spelling. Maybe the algorithm assumes that if you end with an <e> you probably mean the second one.

Interesting, Google Docs. Why do you think that should be "night"? (Oddly, it actually gets all the red-underlined words in this line correct, meaning it pretty much has the context of the word.) Somewhat weird suggestion there.

I'm about a quarter of the way through the document and I think this is long enough for now; I'll probably come back and reblog with additions later. Before I go, however, here are my lists of "things spellcheck should be able to fix but can't" from what I've gone through so far.

First, spellings that differ from Modern English by only one letter, but which completely stump Google Docs (i.e., it marks them wrong but only gives the "why am I not seeing a suggestion?" message):

Goute ("gout")

Herbes ("herbs")

Melodye ("melody")

Smale ("small")

Swete ("sweet")

Syde ("side")

Ther ("there")

Wel ("well")

And second, words that are not correct in Modern English but that Google Docs does not mark wrong:

Anoon ("anon")

Attempree ("a temperate")

Beautee ("beauty")

Bowle ("bowl")

Dar nat ("dare not")

Daunce ("dance")

Dede ("dead")

Doon ("do")

Dronke ("drank")

Dronken ("drunken")

Fyr ("fire")

Gyse ("guise")

Hadde ("had")

Hir ("her")

Hir ("their")

Hond ("hand")

Lak ("lack")

Lakked ("lacked")

Lordes ("lords")

Maad ("made")

Pyne ("pain")

Rasour ("razor")

Sayde ("said")

Shere ("shear")

Som ("some)

Sondry ("sundry")

Spyces ("spices")

Styward ("steward")

Syk ("sick")

Thencens ("the incense")

Usshers ("ushers")

Wente ("went")

Wyf ("wife")

Y-goon ("gone")

#damnable machines #middle english #medieval literature #geoffrey chaucer #canterbury tales

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aliteraringkey · 22 days ago

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This one's an analysis of an extract of the 17th chapter of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, 1818. Not my greatest work, especially since it's lacking in terms of style analysis. The title Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus introduces the theme of hubris and playing god, which is central in this novel: playing god is what led Victor to create his creature. In a way, Mary Shelley makes a parody of godly creation in the hands of humans to turn it horrific. The general line of analysis will be based on the notion of accountability and the fight for dominance it instills as told through the lens of Victor's first person narrative and internal focalisation. a. The monster's attempt at dominating the scene and thus Victor.

This scene is dominated by the creature. It uses strong, authoritarian language despite being, in the hierarchy of the novel, not only below Victor as his creation, but also as the one who is described in the scene and not being the one narrating, creating a reversal in the typical order of things. Indeed, Victor's internal focalisation shows both his hatred for the monster and how he's being dominated by it, unable to muster a reply. He orders Victor to create another creature for him, a female, presumably so they can fall in love and live far away from humans, from whom the creature was just rejected in chapter 16. The monster shows humanity, asserting himself as a person of equal right and equal intelligence to Victor with his use of language and his need for love.

b. Victor's attempt at regaining control of the situation in a heroic way.

Victor dominates the narration and the written dialogue once more, while he lets the creature fade into the background. The scene heightens in tension as the general anger he feels turn to hellish rage, maybe due to the fact that his "peaceful life among the cottagers" feels like he is parodying humanity to Victor, for whom the creation has only ever bred disasters and general unhappiness. (Perhaps there is guilt hidden behind this anger, but this is pure speculation.) He then places himself as a heroic figure, asserting his dominance in a vaguely chiasmic structure and an abundance of I's. He acts as if he is doing humanity a favor by rejecting the monster's request (i.e by saying "the world", he implies that he is saving it). However, Victor does not do anything new or groundbreaking: once more, he is simply rejecting his creation and the responsibilities he's supposed to have regarding him, which will only breed more anger within the creature and thus more disasters. c. The creature questions the meaning of humanity.

Once more, the creature dominates the scene and will continue to do so until the end of his monologue. He reverses the roles between him and Victor: although Victor is the scientist, on the side of reasoning, he is the one who refuses to reason with his creature, opting to let his emotions (i.e "anger", "rage") get the better of him. He introduces his own perspective into the narrative through an accumulation of rhetorical questions and developments on how he is an outcast to all of humanity. However, his crimes are downplayed, even erased: in a way, he tries to place himself as a romantic hero but, in a way, fails as his actions are not virtuous. This itself is another reversal of roles: although Victor is the one narrating, is the one who made the entire story start with the creation of the creature, here, he is not the hero. He re-introduces the paradox of the entire novel; the man who gave him life is the man who rejects him, perhaps as a reversal and reflexion on parent-child relationships (e.g Medea, Seneca). (Perhaps "the work of your own hands" is a reference to the Bible and how men were made by God from clay/the dust of the earth). Once more, there is an abundance of I's within both the creature's and Victor's dialogues, showing how the both of them are only focused on their side of the story, thus breeding further conflict between the two.

(I'm gonna stop here although there are another thirthy-ish lines that would be interesting to dive into, since the themes are pretty repetitive from this point forward.)

To conclude this scene is mostly one of a fight for dominance through language. Both of the characters try to gain the upper hand morally speaking on the other, although the both of them refuse to take true accountability for their actions and depict great hubris (i.e, the accumulation of I's). Victor constantly rejects his creation, parodying God's creations whereas the creature pins the world against him like a romantic hero without developing on his own wrongdoings. (Later on, Victor is even referred to as the creature's "arch enemy", reinforcing this idea that he is parodying God by becoming Satan.) In general, Frankenstein seems to revolve around the modern debate (for the 19th century) of scientific ethics, here told through the lens of a failing father/son relationship.

#literature #literary analysis #frankenstein #i might add onto this later #might is the keyword for this entire account

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stuff-i-write-for-fun · 8 months ago

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MOANING MYRTLE

Part 1

The girl who never got to grow up…

Myrtle wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of a hug again. Her parents had been able to visit from time to time after she had died and she had held on to their affection for a while. Her mother always gave the best hugs. Unfortunately, she had died a few years ago, followed swiftly by her father. Myrtle was alone. She had tried to make friends, with the dead as much as the living…But, all her tentatives had failed. She had hence decided that she would no longer try, even though she still wanted someone to talk to…to talk to about all of the things that made her feel sad or upsetted her—like the fact that her death had not even been on purpose ! She had heard the voice of a boy and then, pouf, she had become a ghost…

June 13, 1943.

She remembered the date like it was yesterday. And she felt as if her vengeance on Olive Hornby was not what kept her in the school. She yet to have succeeded into making a true friend, and not even Harry Potter was kind enough to befriend her…But, she should have known. Boys like that never wasted time on girls like her when she was still alive, why would they start now ?

She sighed, one of the sighs that many mistook for whining. She then looked at her reflection in the water and started sobbing at her appearance…She had wished that once her teen years over, she would become beautiful like all of the other girls that had dared make fun of her.

But now ? She would be stuck in this form forever. She felt as if fate had played a very cruel joke on her.

Myrtle's ghostly heart ached for the fact that no one understood her. Everyone just thought she was being dramatic and whiny when really, she was just being misunderstood. She wanted someone who would look past her ghost-like appearance and see the person inside. Someone who would see her true character and take the time to get to know her. But she had resigned herself to the fact that it would never happen.

She continued to gaze at her reflection, and her tears turned to sobs. What was the point of staying if she was all alone ?

She extended her hand towards the water and let it sink to her elbow...She used to love water, but now, she was tired of it. She wanted to feel things again—anything—but the content sadness and emptiness that she seemed to feel all the time now. She stayed like that for a while until, something unexpected happened…Someone entered her toilets. A boy. She had already seen him before, she thought his name was Drago…Or was it Draco ? He didn't seem to have noticed her yet and looked scared beyond anything. She stayed silent for a while—waiting,—which was unexpected coming from her.

But then, he looked straight at his reflexion in the mirror, and Myrtle could see the exact same look she had given her own reflection a few moments ago. Suddenly, he saw her in the reflection and turned around bruscally and drew out his wand out of instinct. She nearly smiled at his instinctive reaction before saying in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Sorry to disappoint you but, I don't think that'll do much..."

Her words took the boy by surprise. He stared at her for a moment, taking in her ghostly appearance and familiar pigtails. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then just stood there, staring at her as if he wasn't sure what to do next.

"You're her," he said in a whisper.

Myrtle nodded, but she didn't say anything else. A faint smile crossed her face as the boy's eyes met hers and she could tell he was still trying to process everything that was happening. He looked at Myrtle for a few seconds, as if considering his options for a minute before finally lowering his wand.

"You're her, aren't you ?"

Myrtle arched an eyebrow at his comment before crossing her arms defensively.

"If you're talking about Moaning Myrtle, the whining ghost with pigtails, I think you already have your answer..." She said while pointing at her two pigtails and Draco only shook his head before speaking again.

"No, I mean, you're the Dark Lord's first kill..."

She shook her head again before rectifying.

"Rectification. First accident…His knack of killing people on purpose came afterwards…"

She had never discussed the events surrounding her death in more than 40 years ago, and it was a sensitive topic for her.

"So what if I am ?…I'm not some trophy you can show off, you know," she said, her voice cracking just slightly. In her mind, she recalled the day she died at the hands of a young Voldemort. An accident, but an accident that had robbed her of the chance to live a full life.

He bit his lip before looking quite..sad ? He was shaking and Myrtle could see that he was obviously feeling sad and upset. Myrtle had not felt or had contact with emotions for a while now and couldn't remember what it really looked like anymore. But, she still wanted to help this boy that seemed so torn by his feelings.

She was surprised by the empathy she felt for Draco. Despite her bitter attitude and aloof nature, she was still able to recognize pain and sadness when she saw it. She let her arms rest at her side as she took a step back, her expression softening slightly.

"I have gone through a lot in my life, but I have never seen anyone look as hopeless as you do right now. What's wrong ?"

For a moment, Draco was caught off guard by her kindness. She really was nothing like the moaning ghost the stories had told all the years. He felt…seen.

He hesitated for a moment, before he finally opened up to her.

"I'm scared. I have been charged with a mission and I…don’t know what to do. I feel trapped. I can't do anything right anymore and I just want..I just wanted…" He started crying.

She sat on the edge of the sink near him and saw him suddenly break into tears. "Don’t cry," she said and continued. "Don’t cry...tell me what’s wrong…I can help you...I'm sure I can…"

She wanted to put her hand on his shoulder, but, decided to against it. She listened instead when he answered her between sobs.

"No one can help me," said Malfoy "I can’t do it...I can’t...It won’t work…and unless I do it soon...he says he’ll kill me..."

Her heart went out to him. The poor boy was clearly terrified and she couldn't help but want to comfort him.

"Shh...shh...calm down," she said softly, trying to reassure him. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Just slow down and...and tell me everything. Who is the 'he' that says he'll kill you ?"

Myrtle would be lying if she said she didn't have a small idea of who he was talking about. She was still a Ravenclaw after all. She tilted her head to the side a bit before deciding wondering if she should try to touch him, even if she knew she wouldn't be able to truly touch him…being a ghost and all. She waited for him to answer her.

Draco saw her hesitation, the way she wanted to reach out to him but didn't.

"V...Voldemort," he said, his voice cracking with fear. He was clearly reluctant to speak the Dark Lord's name out loud. He shook his head again, as if trying to dismiss the thought, but still the tears rolled down his cheeks.

The name made the little ghost sigh…Of course.

"You don't have to do anything that you don't want to. You have a choice, even if he likes to make you think you do not."

Draco blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't expected her to say that.

"But I don't," he said softly, his voice shaking with sadness and fear. "If I don't do what he wants, he'll kill me. He'll kill me and my family. He says I have until the end of the school year to do as he says, and I..I can't...I can't do this..."

By now, Draco was full on sobbing, his whole body shaking with each wave of emotion.

She saw how sad and conflicted he was and suddenly had the urge to hug him. And then, she decided to follow her instincts and try to hug him—expecting to pass right through him. But her eyes widened in shock as she felt…something solid. She didn’t walk past him. She. Was. Touching. Him. She was actually touching him ! She seemed awestruck for a moment, as shocked as him at the fact that she was feeling the fabric of his white shirt under her palms. They looked at each other for a moment, unable to utter a word. But she still hugged him tightly.

Draco found himself being embraced and his tears immediately stopped.

He had never in his whole life felt so much warmth and comfort as in that hug. He felt her arms wrap around him and his entire body let out a sigh of relief. As the moment of shock passed for both of them, he looked down at her and saw her ghost face, only inches away from his own.

It felt so real, and yet he knew it couldn't be.

The two of them stayed in the embrace for another moment until Draco finally spoke.

"You're hugging me…"

She nodded and didn’t speak a word. She couldn’t. She had spent decades without being able to touch any living being…

Draco couldn’t believe it. It felt so weird, the way her arms felt around him and the way she could feel his heart beat against her chest.

She was hugging him, and more importantly she was able to. He hugged her back tightly, as if he were trying to hold on to this strange and surreal moment for as long as possible. And as he did, he saw a small smile appear on the ghost's lips.

She felt so happy…But the moment was suddenly cut short when she heard footsteps and immediately hid in a corner.

Draco, still shocked, had his eyes still wide open when Harry walked in and used the forbidden curse on him…

Myrtle could have forgiven Harry a lot of things, but nearly killing the only living person that she had ever been able to touch in more than 40 years ? That, she couldn't.

Draco's shocked expression turned to terror as he felt the pain of the curse coursing through his entire body. His last thought was of Myrtle, the ghost who had suddenly gained an inexplicable ability to touch him, and whose soft embrace now suddenly left him in agony.

At that moment, the lights flickered and a cold breeze swept through the bathroom, as if some unseen force had suddenly stirred up in the toilet.

Harry's eyes suddenly turned to the corner of the bathroom in which Myrtle had been hiding.

He had no idea why, but he could have sworn that he had sensed something.

He approached the corner, his wand held tightly in his hand out of habit.

He hesitated a few seconds, but finally decided to point his wand at the corner and cast a Lumos. Harry jumped in surprise as he suddenly saw an enormous, shrieking ghostly form in front of him.

For a moment, he thought that the thing before him was going to kill him, and he pointed his wand at the figure in the corner and prepared to defend himself.

Then, suddenly, the figure turned back into a ghost and he saw the familiar form of the moaning Myrtle.

Her eyes were filled with rage and hatred, and it was so unexpected that he froze in his tracks.

"GET OUT OF MY BATHROOM !" She screamed and all the doors of the cubicles opened as she looked straight at Harry with loathing.

Harry was taken back by her scream and the sudden opening of the bathroom stalls around him.

He tried to point his wand at her, but he couldn't. Her rage was too powerful and her eyes were filled with a pure, unfiltered hatred.

"I was jus—" he started, but was cut off as Myrtle screamed again. "OUT ! JUST GET OUT !"

Harry's mind was racing, filled with a sudden fear and confusion.

He had never seen anyone, let alone a ghost, look at him with such hate. He could feel her rage burning into his own body, as if she was trying to burn his soul away.

With a last attempt to regain his composure, he tried to speak again.

"I was just trying to—"

"GET OUT !" And with that, she raised her hand and used the wind to throw Harry out of her bathroom.

Harry was completely caught off guard by the sudden force that hit him like a ton of bricks. He was flung out of the bathroom and across the corridor.

He hit the ground hard, and for a moment he laid there, stunned, his entire body in agony. He could still feel Myrtle's rage burning into him, and he shuddeted as he desperately tried to get away from her.

She closed the door of her bathroom before returning to Draco. She tried to see if he was still alive.

"…Are you okay ?"

Draco lay on the floor, eyes closed and the pain of the curse still coursing through his body. As Myrtle approached him, he slowly opened his eyes and turned to face her. He was clearly shaken, his breathing shallow and his body covered in cuts and bruises. But he was still alive.

He tried to sit up, the pain of his body sending him into agony.

"Myrtle…you…you protected me."

Myrtle sighed and shook her head.

"Harry is upset. But he is not a bad boy. And I will not let him kill you…"

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He didn't expect her to be protective of him. He thought that she would let Harry kill him..

But she hadn't.

She had stood up for him when he needed it...

His body was in pain, but at that moment, his heart was filled with gratitude for her.

"But why…Why would you…?"

Myrtle herself didn’t know why she had protected him. She just knew she had to.

She was grateful when she saw professor Snape entering the bathroom and take care of Draco. She wanted to get out of the shadows and take his hand, to at least make him feel as if he wasn't alone…But she knew better than meddling with human affairs and just stayed quiet while seeing multiple people walking around her toilets. She didn't even try to stop them and some of the teachers as well as students were even surprised by the fact that the young ghost was quiet, her who usually never was able to stop complaining or whining. She just stayed in one of the toilet cubicles, sitting on one of the toilet seats—thinking.

…What had just happened ?

#fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #moaning myrtle #severus snape #albus dumbledore #professor dumbledore #marauders

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max-the-many · 2 days ago

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- day two - So Cooper it was for a whole day! I didn't really go after all the details, spending all morning on... explorations, going out after that to get to know more, curious to see how everyone would act, how it would feel to be Cooper, just talking to random neighbours, trying to adapt to a normal day which was a saturday.

Eventually it was evening and I figured I might go to sleep, emough time to explore the next day.

But this didn't really play out. I fell asleep immediately again which wasn't surprising at all as it was a rather eventful day.

But when I woke up without any dream again it didn't take long to realize that I wasn't in Coopers bedroom anymore. But it wasn't mine either.

And as I sat up, looking at a mirror facing the bed I didn't even know whom I was looking at.

But besides beeing a bit concerned about what would lay ahead, how all this astral-projection stuff would unfold I definately didn't mind where it got me now...

Continue here:

Day one:

#male possession

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esuemmanuel · 1 year ago

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Una sonrisa pequeña, casi imperceptible, llena de timidez y candor, de ligera esperanza y cariño. Una sonrisa dibujada en el rostro de un recién nacido o la de aquel anciano caminante que se encuentra contigo en la acera del porvenir. Una sonrisa breve en los labios pequeños de una mujer enamorada del amor, esa que baila y canta al roce de la vida y la luz del sol; hermosa y carismática, entregada al verso meritorio de la plenitud. Una mujer dada a la poesía, a las voces perennes del alma despierta, al fuego y al agua que arde y bulle en su centro; ahí, entre el sacro y el plexo. Una sonrisa animada, abierta al viento, entregada a la algarabía de la alegría que es existir, esa nacida de la boca de un hombre entregado a las experiencias de la carne, a las verdades de su oficio, a la complejidad de sus reflexiones y de sus acciones apegadas al corazón de su prosa. Una sonrisa, una sola, caminando por las calles de una ciudad en penumbras, iluminando cada rincón de sus calles, cada recoveco de sus callejones, de esos espacios vacíos y lúgubres que nadie se atreve a pisar y, no obstante, están llenos de seres humanos perdidos en el temor de ser alguien. Una sonrisa como luz del cielo, como la caricia de una nube, como el recordatorio que obliga a nuestras almas a continuar en este camino que hemos elegido para madurar como el espíritu colectivo del Universo.

A small, almost imperceptible smile, full of shyness and candor, of light hope and affection. A smile drawn on the face of a newborn or that of that old walker who meets you on the sidewalk of the future. A brief smile on the small lips of a woman in love with love, that one who dances and sings to the touch of life and sunlight; beautiful and charismatic, given to the meritorious verse of fullness. A woman given to poetry, to the perennial voices of the awakened soul, to the fire and water that burns and bubbles in her center; there, between the sacrum and the plexus. A lively smile, open to the wind, given to the joy that is to exist, born from the mouth of a man devoted to the experiences of the flesh, to the truths of his craft, to the complexity of his reflections and his actions attached to the heart of his prose. A smile, a single one, walking through the streets of a city in twilight, illuminating every corner of its streets, every nook and cranny of its alleys, those empty and gloomy spaces that no one dares to step on and yet are full of human beings lost in the fear of being someone. A smile like light from the sky, like the caress of a cloud, like the reminder that forces our souls to continue on this path we have chosen to mature as the collective spirit of the Universe.

#esuemmanuelg #el hombre de la soledad #escribiendo en soledad #the man of solitude #escritores en tumblr #writing in solitude #poetas en tumblr #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #pensamientos #poeticstories #2023 #ai image

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my-jokes-are-my-armour · 1 month ago

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Nothing else matters

I wanted to make it an hidden post like most of my Chris and Di posts but this one means to me.

Ok. What have they done to me ? I woke up and the first thought about Chris and Di just brought tears to my eyes again. Flipping heck !

I guess there is a part of my current emotional state for other things involved but also the reflexion of some things in my life, that were kinda represented last night.

Two months ago, I picked up their duo at a moment when my hyperfixations couldn't be satisfied by anything because there is a blackhole in the communication of The Witcher and TAD. And the world is crazy and I am angsty without anything to hold onto. So when I found that new fixation I grabbed it like it would save me from drowning. Suddenly every week I had something to watch that would bring a smile on my face. I knew from the start that it was for a short period of time but it was nice.

But as the weeks were going by, I realised that I found in them a quality that I found in several of my hyperfixations through time, that defines me also, and that is really beautifully phrased by Joey, as now my blog's title for two years : "my jokes are my armour".

I think it is very true for Chris and Dianne too.

Dianne is full of positive energy and is smashing through difficulties with a smile and Chris is a comedian who thrives in making people laugh. But they are both very sensitive persons. Dianne is more open to let her emotions go while Chris is shielding throwing jokes when it matters.

Being disabled makes everything harder, whatever you are doing, it requires more energy from you than for a non disabled person, especially when you are not used to the task. Chris hit walls at the beginning: he was out of shape for a part and he had to integrate so many new elements. They were joking at his grandpa demanures and grumpy nature. But this was ok. This was part of the learning curve. Any physical activity you pick up from scratch is a pain in the ass at the begining. Then he realised that he liked dancing and that he wasn't so bad at it. And he put the difficult part of the process down a little bit focusing in the laughs they could get and their duo's personality. And you kinda forget that this is still exhausting as hell for him. Until week 11.

Last week was the first time I was seeing him hitting physical walls again but like proper walls. He joked again but he said that he was in pain from week 1 and it didn't stop. But here the real issue in my opinion was more the amount of energy he had to find to continue to deliver was exceeding his reserves a bit too much. And he was very low, reserving himself to bring it for the show at his best. This week was worse with two dances to learn. They simplified the choreographies for a part but they pushed the limits anyway.

The charleston was the most disconnected danse they ever made and on the dancefloor this is like hardcore for him as he rely on his sense of touch for a lot. He had to be perfect in his timing for this to work. And then for the viennese waltz he worked so hard on his posture. The thing that every juge was coming at him over and over. But then there was the emotion and the meaning behind what they are doing.

Through the series of their danses, 80% of the time, Chris and Di were bringing a joyful side. There was cuteness, comedy, or simply good energy. And there were some others that were more meaningful. And tonight they brought that twice as hard.

The first dance was a testament to what they always did : bring joy and energy. They wanted us to smile. The song itself was an invitation to smile.

And the second one was what was behind the smiles, and the other messages they tried to convey. Except for the paso doble, I have never seen Chris so serious and focused on a dance. Dianne was a ball of emotions.

I can only extrapolate what the song meant to them from what they said, what I saw and my own feelings toward it. This was probably not the most perfect viennese waltz of the season, but it was the most meaningful to me. I couldn't see all the bits of what came after yet, I caught up some descriptions and pictures, and saw their exit camera and juge score reaction.

Chris was the most emotional I have ever seen him. He barely registered the 9s. And Dianne gave a beautiful speech.

That dance his her victory too. And maybe that was the reason she seemed to breath emotions all along.

When it started and people saw she was paired with Chris, people joked about how short her adventure would be. Reflecting both how the general opinion see disabled people like default loosers and doubted her capacity to adapt to the challenge ahead. And two weeks later people loved them so much that they saved them when they were about to fall over and over, proving the doubtful noisy voices that they can do it and that yes, people wanna see their journey on their telly, proving also that representation is needed and welcomed.

Bring your best, move people, bring them joy, whoever you are. And maybe that is the meaning of the song : nothing else matters.

I really don't know if they will make it to the final. From the show narration they are set up for an exit. And if Pete's popularity is way bigger than Chris and Dianne's one, the dance off can be fatal. They know already but I will have my answer tonight. I just wanted to write this down before the final results.

Another thought. Chris seems really exhausted, so maybe this is a good thing to step out now. I am sure he would push harder if they are in the final but he has to take care of himself too.

"Winning isn't everything" as they said at the beginning. And for me they won no matter what ❤️.

#chris and di #i am still emotional #sorry for the crappy gifs

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