#sorry this is so personal to me and someone just went on a tirade on how much they have it worse cause they don't eat
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rapidhighway · 7 months ago
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Ahahaaaa oh my goddd can you not make "ADHD undereating" and "ADHD overeating" into a competition of who has it worse and who has nothing to complain about, that'd be awesome
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hannigramislife · 1 year ago
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for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))
Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.
I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.
Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.
Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.
So let me make something real fucking clear.
Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.
Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?
When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.
People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.
One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.
Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.
Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?
And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.
But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.
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ivebeenmade · 5 months ago
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Last night, my soul's dad was supposed to be working on her car. Turns out he didn't get done in time so we had to swap a car with his girlfriend because none of us can go without transport.
Well, I guess he didn't like that I hadn't vacuumed the floors and scrubbed the dash board (IKR right) so he starts screaming at her. Just. Screaming.
So I did what anyone would do for their loved one. I redirected him to me.
She's sick, and was telling him as much. She just had a monthly infusion on Monday. While telling him, it was obvious that he had begun to realize he'd done something wrong. His child has a debilitating illness that requires an extremely aggressive treatment. He was treating her like absolute trash and (knowing him) forgot to remember why she wouldn't spend a good amount of time Every Single Week (like he wants) vacuuming the car and wiping down all the surfaces. We have a corgi. They have double coats. He knows this.
He suddenly began acting like he had meant to be after me the whole time. He turned on me and began- and I mean this- screaming at me in that guttural metal-head kind of way. Just from way down deep. Growling, taking huge steps towards me. I calmly replied to pretty much the same things he had said to her.
He's always hated me for a few reasons, but one of the big ones is as I said when I met him as a teenager and he tried to pull some shit: I will not be intimidated. Which I repeated to him. He was crazed, screaming things like 'do you think this is funny?!' when I was speaking calmly and evenly. It was truly disturbing.
He got in my face, and several times made an exaggerated effort to raise and drop his hand, muttering a "why I oughtta"-esque tirade. I put my hand up in his face, palm out flat, and told him not to take another step, he wasn't going to menace me.
Then he began screaming at his daughter that she needed to 'control me'. At one point she said something about 'what are you going to do, hit me' because he was being that threatening. He replied that, not her, but he wasn't about to do something to 'that one'.
I felt bad for being any part of his horrible attitude. He has truly rattled her for years with this behaviour. Absolutely terrorised her. He's a monster.
So we took his girlfriend for a ride to get another vehicle they had a local auto place, having been repaired at some point this week. She shared that she had broken up with him *for that attitude*. Not that this fucker wouldn't have still found a way to be an actual gremlin.
She and I discussed, and for many reasons she will no longer be handling him with kid gloves, so to speak. I expressed that I was truly sorry for the way I reacted (which would've been totally reasonable but I understand that any reason for him to be angry comes back on her). She wasn't upset with me. She understands he went too far.
I also shared that one of the worst things I believe he has ever done is to tell his daughter that he wanted to hit her loved one. Whatever we are, we are important to each other. It would be like any parent trying to punch someone's spouse, and then expecting any other reaction from their child. As her life partner, him threatening me *through her* is absolutely appalling.
Anyway, I needed to journal this. It is also kind of nice that she doesn't feel shaken by all this. She is very calm. And she was on my side which was a huge thing...she doesn't have to be and I expected her to feel like I had put her in a bad position by protecting myself.
I am upset because I adore her niece and nephew (MY NIECE AND NEPHEW) but now I can't go to that place. Never again. A person only threatens me like that once.
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miscmonstro · 2 years ago
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The Uno Reverse Adoption Saga 8
AO3 Link: here
First: Chapter 1
Previous: Chapter 7
Next: Chapter 9
Current Characters: Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Danny Fenton, Jason Todd
Summary: Forced to attend a gala by her parents as she is every year, Sam Manson was resigned to suffer through the stifling three-night gala until something pulled at her core. The something turned out to be a someone. Just who is Jason Todd and can the trio gain enough of his trust to help him before his struggling proto-core collapses?
warnings: 1) the picture Jason sees at the end not super graphic but still it is of the trio's deaths. It starts at "Several states away" and as it's the last paragraph or so there is nothing after it. 2) you aren't supposed to do the psychology thing on friends/family, it's not ethical. Also Jazz's approach is not what a psychologist is supposed to do but… extenuating circumstances and fanficition.
👻 {Chapter 8 Below!)
“You didn’t eat anything.”
The trio were sitting at the small rickety table at Jason’s behest, and at the moment, the person in question was looking through the fridge. 
The half ghosts all shared a look. 
“We were tired. Went straight to sleep, pretty much,” Sam said. 
Tucker wished he had decided to sleep. He didn’t feel the consequences of his actions, not while in ghost form, but he knew the minute he turned human he’d be out like a light. 
He’d probably do that when he got home. If nothing else, sleep would disrupt the echoes of Jazz’s shrill tirade and worried questions still bouncing around his skull. Sam, who had dealt with Jazz last time and Danny, who couldn’t escape her worrying in any case, were not sympathetic. 
Feeling perturbed, Jason huffed and closed the fridge door with a little more force than necessary. 
“What’s up?” Tucker asked. 
“I’m sorry. I- fuck.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. He glanced to them. “I’m sorry. I have almost no food. I’ll have to run to the store.”
“I can do it,” Danny offered. He rose out of his seat and towards the door. “You should take a quick nap.”
Jason raised a brow.
“Don’t think the corner store takes ghost bucks, kid.”
Danny just smirked and let his transformation rings engulf him, leaving a human in place of the ghost. He dropped to the floor and pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got cash.”
Jason tensed for a moment, then let it go with a gusty exhale. “Phantom, Gotham isn’t safe. You’ll get mugged.”
“I can handle myself,” Danny replied. “And did you just dead name me?”
Sam groaned. Tucker did too and then let his head hit the table. 
“I- what?” Jason sputtered, doing a double take. 
Danny’s face split into a shit eating grin. “Because that’s my ghost name? My dead name? Get it?” 
“Get out of here,” Tucker complained, voice muffled by the wood.
Danny laughed and bolted out the door before Jason could muster a response. 
👻 {Boo!)
It wasn’t long before Danny returned with an armful of groceries, passing straight through the door as to not wake Jason, who Sam and Tucker had cajoled into “closing his eyes for ten minutes”. He handed the bags off to Tucker, who was the best at cooking of the three of them, and switched back into his ghost form. Tucker grumbled on principle but pulled out the contents of the bags. Sam floated over to help but he shooed her away.
“You’re going to throw out the bacon,” he sniffed.
Sam didn’t bother trying to deny it.
Danny wandered over to the couch as the two began to bicker. Jason was sitting with his arms crossed and head tilted to the side. His breathing was even and deep; peaceful and asleep. 
He didn’t want to leave Jason at the mercy of a random ghost. He wished they didn’t have to go back so soon. 
“It’ll be a miracle if your parents haven’t noticed,” Tucker said in response to the thought.
“Yeah well. It’ll be a miracle if your parents don’t ground you,” Danny replied. “You can’t be grounded on Christmas.” 
“I told them I was staying over at a friend’s. S’good as long as I get back before nine.”
Sam looked at the microwave and squinted. “What time zone is Gotham in again?”
“We’re an hour ahead here so it’s six back home,” said Danny, making his way to the kitchen. 
Amity time: six hours two minutes thirty seven seconds fourteen milliseconds, Tucker absently supplied as he flipped a hashbrown. 
Sam noted that they’d need to leave after breakfast as she wordlessly handed Danny a knife and a vague impression of apples. Seeing an opportunity to practice his telekinesis, Danny eyed the bag with the apples thoughtfully. 
“Do that on the other side,” Tucker instructed, turning his legs into a tail and sweeping the bag across the kitchen. In his mind’s eye he saw haywire apples raining down on his poor hashbrowns. Danny chuckled and obliged, sliding the bag farther and onto the edge of the carpet outside of the kitchen before he started practicing.
Sam rolled her eyes and pulled out a drawer to get another knife. The serrations on the blade were more dramatic and were probably not meant for fruit, but it would get the job done. Snatching the fruit Danny wasn’t using, she got to cutting them into little uneven pieces. 
Cooking breakfast after late night escapades had become a small tradition of theirs. It had started way back when Jazz had suggested they find a way to destress together their first year as halfas and had spiraled from there. They tended to overcook, though it had never been an issue; it had the bonus of feeding a very exhausted Jazz, producing leftovers for themselves and an extremely overworked Valerie, and now giving an obviously worn Jason some much needed fuel.
Tucker was a storm in the shape of a chef. He made scrambled eggs and bacon and hashbrowns and biscuit sandwiches. Eventually he did relent and let the other two near the stove. Danny made pancakes and Sam made breakfast potatoes.
(Tucker hadn’t always been an enthusiastic cook. It was something he started after the whole Duulaman thing.
Royalty didn’t cook.
It was a moot point anyway.) 
They set the table with the paper plates Danny had picked up when Sam realized the cabinets were mostly empty. Paper would degrade but plastic wouldn’t so Danny had resigned himself to making utensils out of his ice. Sam appreciated it. 
“Should we wake him?”
“Nah,” Tucker thought, “he was up all night. He needs the sleep.”
“He’s sleeping awfully well for someone hosting three ghosts,” Sam said.
“Oh. Maybe it’s a ghostling thing?”
Danny tuned in at the mention of ghostlings. “Ghm?”
The other two snorted. “Of course that gets your attention,” Sam dryly said.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking… what if there is an emergency or something? I could give him my number, but even at top speed it’d take me a hot minute to get here from Amity. So, I think I should ask CW after the truce if he could send me back here.”
“Dude,” Tucker said first. “Maybe?”
He wasn’t confident. Don’t get him wrong- Clockwork was powerful, and he hadn’t steered them wrong, but the problem was that the solution was never obvious. He also didn’t trust the master of time to not add a few obstacles and side missions. He had before, and for no discernible reason.
Sam agreed. “I can’t change back anyway,” she said, mentally building up to what she was about to propose.
“So I guess… I can let him hold onto my camera.”
Danny almost froze the table in surprise. Tucker dropped the syrup and barely caught it.
“Sam?!” he exclaimed, slightly horrified.
Outwardly, she scoffed and seemed unperturbed. But they all shared a headspace; they couldn’t really hide from each other. The boys knew how disgusting the mere thought of parting with her camera felt.
“We’ll find a different way,” Danny said firmly.
“It’s fine.”
“Liar.”
Sam huffed and pulled the camera over her head. “I’ll feel it if he’s in trouble, and I can use it to get here in seconds, unlike you. Besides, it's not like I’m using it.” 
“Sam, you can’t just like… do that,” protested Tucker, clutching his PDA tight in one hand.
Her stubborn resolve was her answer. 
They stewed in silence for a bit. Danny tried and failed to think of a better solution and Tucker didn’t do any better.
“We should get Jason up,” he thought at last. “The food is getting cold.”
Danny more than happily began poking the sleeping man with the tip of his tail. Jason grunted and opened a bleary eye. 
“Breakfast,” Danny said.
“Yeah, in a minute,” Jason grumbled, standing slowly and stretching. 
Danny corralled their stumbling, half asleep host to the table. Jason only blinked as Danny all but sat him at the table. The lights were on, but nobody was home.
Tucker passed a plate of eggs. Over the next few minutes Jason became more alert.
“You kids made breakfast?” he asked, taking another spoon of eggs. “How long was I out?”
“Not long,” Tucker said. 
“Mmm.”
“Yeah. We have to hurry though. We need to head out soon,” Danny added, skewering his potatoes.
That got Jason’s attention. He sat up straighter and surveyed the three. “Where will you go?”
“Our haunt. We need to get back,” Sam explained. 
Jason paused. “Er… do I have a… haunt?”
“No, not yet. Don’t worry, once you grow up you’ll be strong enough to claim a haunt,” assured Danny.
Jason didn’t outwardly react but he didn’t seem to like the idea. 
“Our haunt’s Amity,” Tucker added. “Lots of ghosts trespass and try to defeat us since that’s where the portals are.”
It was a bit of a white lie. Ghosts no longer come to cause mischief so much as they came to challenge Danny. 
Sam picked up on what Tucker was trying to do- reassure Jason that his life wouldn’t be totally uprooted. “Haunts can be in the living world. They don’t have to be in the zone.”
That didn’t seem to reassure him.
Sam cleared her throat, which suddenly felt tight. 
“So,” she drawled, thankful she didn’t need to breathe like this and therefore her breath wouldn’t hitch, “we were thinking. A lot can go wrong in a day, never mind a few, and we do need to leave. So… here.” She thrust the camera at him with a little more force than necessary. The strap swung in an arc and almost knocked over the salt shaker. “This camera is a part of me. If you’re in danger, click the button on the top, the one that takes pictures on normal cameras. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”
“Be careful with it,” Danny instructed as Jason gingerly took the spectral camera. “This is the ghostly equivalent of someone chopping off a hand and handing it to you, except we don’t lose our connection with severed body parts.”
Jason poked the camera. “You can feel that?”
Sam shrugged. “More or less.” 
Jason put the camera on the table. 
“Uh-uh,” Tucker said sternly. “That’s Mane’s camera. Keep it on you.”
Jason rolled his eyes and then lopped the camera around his neck.
It felt a lot less awful than they were expecting. Tucker once again chalked it up to Jason being an unclaimed orphan- he didn’t have much of a core to contest Sam’s essence.
They finished eating (read: watching Jason eat) and then the trio said a quick goodbye. If they didn’t move quickly then they might not end up moving at all.
Jason seemed alarmed by their insistence to bolt. 
“How are you kids even going to get back?” he asked pointedly. 
“We’ll just… get there. Fly, you know,” Danny said vaguely. 
Eventually they went invisible and moved to the guest room where they pulled out the map. Danny inhaled, found the nearest portal, linked arms with Tucker and Sam, and then they were off.
👻 {Boo!)
“Danny.”
“Danny.”
“Danny!”
“What?” Danny asked crankily. He’d spent far too much time in the zone preparing his lair for the truce party and Jason’s checkup. 
Jazz stuck her hands on her hips.
“You’re moping,” she accused. 
There was a crash from downstairs. Jack bellowed something about getting his trap operational before tomorrow.
Christmas.
Danny harrumphed and crossed his arms. 
Truthfully, Christmas wasn’t the only thing bothering him. Jazz, who had clearly picked up on this, gave him the snooty older sister look. As if she could read his mind she amended, “More than usual. What’s wrong?”
Well, Jazz always found out sooner rather than later. 
“I want to be a dad?”
His voice cracked as if to mock him and he winced.
“Oh Danny,” Jazz began, setting a hand on his shoulder, “wanting to be a parent is-“
“Wait,” he interrupted with a bout of irritation, ducking out from and under her arm. “I didn’t even finish Jazz.”
She made a ‘go on’ motion with her hands.
Danny sighed and began pacing.
“So, I’m almost an adult human but I’ve been an adult ghost. And there’s, uh, there’s a ghostling. Except he’s part human too? So I want to adopt him, all the ghost urges are there and they’re driving me insane. But like, at the same time he’s an adult man. He totally adults better than me. Like he’s gotta be in his thirties or something.”
“You sound worried,” Jazz pointed out with a poker face that might’ve fooled someone else. 
“Sam gave him her camera so we’d know if he was in trouble but not even two hours after we left, he took it off! For hours! Anything could’ve happened in that time.”
From Jazz’s expression, Danny knew she’d be psychoanalyzing that statement for a while. 
“And why does that matter?”
“Jazz-“
“Danny.”
“Ugh! It’s a ghost thing. Everyone will want to adopt him. But he obviously has a life and stuff, but if he wants his core to stabilize he needs a parent. He’s like, ghost skin and bones Jazz.”
Jazz frowned. “This has more to do with concepts of autonomy and enculturation… I don’t think eating disorders apply here.”
Danny grumbled and pivoted to cross the room again. 
There was a deep, rumbling boom and the house shook. 
“What do you think about being a parent?”
“I can’t let another ghost take him,” Danny said promptly. “They will forget to take care of his human needs. He needs someone who won’t be confused or forgetful of his human side.”
Jazz nodded. “Hm. Is he a halfa?”
Danny almost tripped. 
“No,” he denied vehemently. “He can’t be.”
“And you know that for sure?”
“Well… no.”
“Would it change anything if he was?”
Danny didn’t respond for three minutes. He never answered the question.
“So what’s the verdict?”
Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose. “Firstly, this is your reminder that this is unethical. Secondly, your obsession is mingling with your usual desire to help people. Because of their status being similar to yours, you feel responsible… this is on top of your regular ghost biology urging you. You’re afraid of what a human-ghost child implies and don’t want to think about it. You’re especially afraid of what a halfa child implies. So, is this something Vlad did?”
“We can’t discount it, but we’re not going to confront him about it either. Even if it’s something he did, we don’t want him to know we know. But… we talked it over. It’s unlikely with what we know right now.”
Which, admittedly, wasn’t much.
Jazz nodded. The sounds of bullets and blasters echoed, as did the cheerfully vengeful voice of their mother declaring the new system operational. 
“So, like, enculturation,” Danny said in response to a faint nudge from Sam, biting his lip. “Being a ghost is overwhelming.”
“Make a list of things you wish someone had told you at first,” Jazz suggested. “And maybe things that took you a while to get the hang of. And remember- children are naturally not going to be as capable as adults. They’re developing. That skill gap will be frustrating for someone who’s used to managing themselves.”
“A list?” Danny mused. Did they even have the original ghost idea list anymore?
“Think school subjects. History, biology, science, economy, government. The things that we learn in school are basically enculturation.”
“So ghost history, ghost biology, ghost science, ghost economy. Got it.”
“And ghost government.”
Danny rubbed his neck and avoided eye contact. 
“Danny,” Jazz said, voice laced with reprimand, “he knows you’re the king, right? You weren’t going to adopt a baby ghost and introduce him to the zone without planning to explain the governing bodies, right?”
“But Tucker hates being called a helpmate,” Danny blurted. 
Tucker, in fact, could not care less. 
Jazz looked at him flatly.
Danny hunched and glared at his sister. She glared right back and crossed her arms.
“Well, I think you ought to tell him but it is your decision. I just think it’s a stupid one.”
“Gee, thanks.” Danny rolled his eyes. “And I was gonna tell him, just… later.”
Jazz glared for a moment more and then relented. “Alright. An important part of parenthood is clear communication about important issues that can affect your family dynamic.”
Then they both cringed. 
(Danny was going to tell his parents… just not now.)
“Wait,” Danny said, the implication of her words finally registering, “you’re not going to talk me out of it?”
“Do I think it’s a good idea? No,” Jazz said bluntly. “But I think that the other option is far worse.”
👻 {Boo!)
On Christmas morning the three woke to an echoed itchiness originating from Sam.
That was not an uplifting omen.
“What the hell is he doing to my camera,” she hissed.
Danny reached for it through Sam and held still for a moment.
“… I think he’s looking through it.”
“That feels about right,” Tucker said.
“Huh,” Sam muttered. “Well, that won’t look bad at all. Nothing suspicious about a collection of carcasses.”
Sam’s camera, after the accident, had begun to only capture dead things. It was usually the thing that’d died most recently in the camera view but if Sam focused, she could narrow the parameters. They’d helped solve more than a few old cold cases by filtering the photographs for human remains.
Very unsuspicious. 
Tucker hissed. 
“I hope he doesn’t go look at all of them.”
The very first picture was the worst. 
All ghosts were sensitive to their deaths, even halfas. It was hard enough being in the lab sometimes, never mind looking at that accursed first picture.
Still, none of them had been able to convince themselves to delete it.
Several states away, Jason Todd looked down at the little camera display, the younger contorted and screaming face of Tucker’s flickering form in full view. In a tunnel behind him, just past a wave of green, Danny was suspended, back arched and face equally pained. Engulfed in dazzlingly bright energy, his mouth was stretched wide open. He was screaming too.
The hand, half dissolving as it reached toward the dying boys, could only have belonged to Sam. 
👻 {Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.)
Taglist time! If you want to be added, just say so!
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Next week: Amity! It's a nice place to live…
Jason POV :3
Next: Chapter 9
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petitmonde · 2 years ago
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💐
a bouquet ! <3
"Do you know why I called you here?" Gigi's tone was slightly agitated, and her eyes were sharp like ice. The actress could be intimidating whenever she wanted to, all part of her flair to get whatever she wanted.
"No?" Crystal stammered. She took a step back as Gigi came closer to her. The only safetynet Crystal had left was playing with her hair. If she acted stupid, maybe her colleague would let her off easy.
"Listen," Gigi started, taking a big breath before she went on her tirade, "I know you want what's best for me, I do. But I draw the line when you get into my personal life. What I think and do with Miss Sport is none of your damn business, so stick your colourful nose out of it."
"I just wanted to–."
Gigi punched with her words to interrupt Crystal, ending it with her poking Crystal in the chest with her manicured nail. She wasn't done. "So what happened last Friday can't happen again. Are we clear?"
"I'm sorry." Crystal said, dejected. Gigi was back to being Gigi. The thing she saw last week must have been a fluke. There was no way she had softened up just because she had met someone new.
"See, this is why we broke up," Gigi sighed.
Another low blow. Crystal should have expected it. Hoping for anything else now was wishful thinking.
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mushpired · 2 years ago
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I know that is usually ghost the one that doubts getting in a relationship with soap, but let me switch it up, mainly because I like to make my favorite characters suffer, but also because I like projecting, so, yeah
Angst warning? With a happy ending don’t worry.Idk, I’m new to writing, and English isn’t my first language so, please excuse any grammar mistakes. I will also include my personal headcannons for the characters, but I’ll try my best to not switch it too much? May be ooc
_______________________________________________
No soy para ti
(Im not for you)
A ghostsoap fanfic
Soap was sitting in the common room of the base, the old couch slightly uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to be picky about it, his team hadn’t been given a mission in a while, and he was starting to get restless. Logically, he knew that he still had other chores, but they didn’t compare to being out in the field. The young sergeant had been doing everything to keep himself busy, from his normal duties like training recruits and filling paperwork, to things that only worked to use some time and to distract himself, like drawing and training.
<¿Cuánto amor desaparecerá?
¿Cuánto tiempo más tendremos que llorar?>
Now, he had already done all of that, so that’s how he ended up here, Gaz was laying with his head on his lap, while Soap gently carded his fingers through his best friend’s hair, the two being the youngest on the team made it really easy to become friends, and he was really grateful for that, life on base could get quite lonely sometimes, he was used to being lonely really, people found him annoying and impulsive, and most people took his extroverted personality as an excuse to call him dumb just because he didn’t mind sharing with others. He hated that, how people underestimated him just because of how he acted on his free time. And really, he had been underestimated a lot in his life, treated as nothing, so at one point, he had actually stopped trying to prove people wrong. He simply acted how people expected, older ones treated him as a child, so he offered no respect to them (except for Price and Laswell, they never underestimated his abilities, even praised him for them) people his age often treated him as just someone to have fun with, never offering help when he needed it, never being there for him ( Gaz proved him wrong on that one, he was always there for him when his brain became too much, and the sounds too loud) and the ones he was interested in treated him as nothing but a pretty face with a nice body to fuck, he was nothing but that, something that people could use when they wanted, and he hated, hated, hated-
<Mejor que acabe aquí
Mejor dejarte ir
Si nos queremos tanto, ¿para que sufrir?>
A noise and a hand from the man on his lap brought him out of that self deprecating tirade his brain was going on, bless Gaz and his ability to read him when things got bad.
“Hey man, you ok? I lost you there” he said, as he used his hand to place soap’s own hand on his head again, making him continue with the soft touches, that bastard was like a cat sometimes.
“Aye, sorry man, got quite lost there” he replied, as he continued with the caresses on his friends head.
“Don’t hesitate to tell me, ok, you know I’m here for you, Soap” those words, no matter how many times he said them, always created a lump on his throat, the genuine care always made him weak.
“Aye, sergeant” he replied, with a teasing manner
“Asshole” the other man laughed, as he swatted at soap’s thigh, all in a good manner of course
The laughed for a while before Gaz went back to closing his eyes, and Soap simply stayed there, for once enjoying the peace and quiet, the sun was just starting to set, the orange light making the scene quite warm. Of course, peace never lasted much in a military base, as the loud voice of their captain entered the room, making him jump slightly and Gaz groggily opened his eyes, the man had been entering the sleep realm, it seemed. He laughed internally at that.
Price was entering the room, Ghost behind him, they looked at the two on the couch, Price raising an eyebrow at the intimate moment they seemed to walk into, and Ghost, oh that man, looked at them with something in his eyes, Johnny may have even described it as jealousy, but what would he even be jealous about? Johnny was simply making things up at this point.
Price sat on a wooden chair near the couch, while ghost simply leaned on the table near the wall, crossing his arms.
“Gentlemen, I see you getting quite cozy here, we didn’t interrupt anything right” the old man said with an annoying voice, Price knew of his crush on the masked man, and he was always annoying about it, he regretted telling him sometimes.
“Yeah yeah, what is it captain?” Said Gaz, quite annoyed that his sleep had been interrupted.
“Just checking in, ran into Ghost here at the hallways and forced him to come, I know that no mission can be quite frustrating, specially after Las Almas” and yes, he was right, Las Almas felt like year ago, when in reality, Soap was still being bothered by the pain of that gunshot.
“Something tells me we ain’t gonna be moving any time soon, mm?” Said Soap, Gaz was still on his lap, but was now playing with Soap’s hands, it was quite relaxing for both.
“Exactly” said Price with a heavy sigh “we haven’t been informed of any mission, so we will be basically grounded on base for a while, of course, everyone still has their duties, but yeah”
Ghost, who has been silently watching the room, straightened up and sat on other of the wooden chairs. And really, Soap knew he was down bad for that man, because no one ever looked so beautiful while doing something as simple as walking for heavens sake!
“So? That’s all Price? I know you didn’t drag me here just for that” said the man with the mask, quite annoyed at not being in his room right now.
“That’s all the news really” he said, but continued with “ I know you all had been barely taking care of yourselves, so you will all stay here while I make dinner, understood?” He finished with a no-nonsense tone, it wasn’t a request, nor a question, it was an order.
Gaz and him often joked about the captain being like a dad, but even while joking, that never failed to warm his heart, so he stayed there, waiting for dinner, like they weren’t all men who killed for a living.
________________. _________________
Ghost was still sitting at the table. Dinner had ended, Gaz had already left to his room, Price following shortly after, complaining about some paperwork he still had to complete, that left him alone with Johnny, the man was quiet, simply enjoying being there. Ghost was enamoured with that man, he was almost obsessed with him, and wasn’t that a dangerous thought, the Scot has broken through his walls, and took a place in his cold heart. Damn him.
He has to admit, walking in the room and seeing that scene with his Johnny really made his stomach move , knowing that the man is not his, and also knowing there’s nothing but pure friendship going on between the two sergeants, but still, jealousy was quite a bitch. He still felt the need to ask, just for his own peace of mind, if the man had something for the other sergeant, just to soothe the jealousy or stop giving himself hope, he preferred the former one.
Maybe he was becoming dumber, because he found himself asking “Hey Johnny, are you and Gaz… something?” He immediately felt like slapping himself for such and idiotic question, he was The Ghost, a cold murdered, not some high school girl with a crush, for fucks sake!
“What? No! Why would you say that!” Replied soap, looking almost scandalized. It was kinda funny.
“Just asking, I guess even I am able to be curious” lame answer, gods! What was happening to him, why was he suddenly hopeful.
“Nah, we just friend you ken? It’s kinda hard to make friends in our line of work” said the scot, looking kinda sad.
“Yeah… I know” it had suddenly turned grim, the atmosphere, if making, and keeping friends was hard, love was almost impossible, right?
—————————————————————————-
Soap didn’t know what to say, that realization, saying it out loud, it was kinda sad, knowing there was no chance for love, love was a mistake in this line of work, one could only hope of living past 30, and love was not for those destined to die a horrible death.
Si eras tan feliz, tan feliz
Ya no pierdas tiempo, da vuelta atrás
He was not meant to love.
He was not meant to be loved.
He would never be loved.
Ghost, would never love him.
<No soy para ti, no soy para ti
No seré siempre joven, mi amor
Así es mejor>
With the vibes of the room now ruined, he decided to go sulk in his room, where no one could see, or hear him.
“ Hey L.T, imma head to bed, see ya tomorrow sir” he said, and started a fast almost desperate pace to his room, not even waiting for ghost to respond, his footsteps were almost erratic, his nails pressing, piercing the skin of his hand with how strong he had balled up his fists, he was barely able to see where he was going, muscle memory being the only things taking him to his room on shaky legs.
Just when he felt like he was reaching his room, a voice and a hand on his shoulder made him turn and flinch away.
Ghost.
Ghost had followed him, he was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear him, he felt like he was under water, good heavens, he probably looked like a fool, an idiot, hyperventilating on the hallways for no reason. Fuck, Ghost will think he’s a mess, that he’s useless, that he’s an idiot, fuck fuck fuck FUC-
Suddenly, his head was pressed against a chest, one ear listening to a heartbeat, the other covered by a big hand, safe.
“-ey, hey, Soap, you hear me?”
Ghost was holding him, pulling him up, above water.
Soap never wanted to move, he wanted to float on this mans chest forever.
He closed his eyes and tried to match his breathing to the steady heartbeat.
—————————————————-
Shit, Ghost didn’t know what he was even doing, sure, he has had his fair share of panic attacks, but that doesn’t mean he knows how to help someone through one.
“Johnny, you with me?” He said tentatively, as he felt the man begin to relax.
“Aye, ‘m sorry, I dinnae ken what happened, I’m sorry” said soap, and god, why would he think he has to apologize, he would forgive everything Johnny could ever do without even him asking.
“Don’t apologize, happens to the best of us” he said, then he added “do you … want to talk.. about what caused this?”
“I… don’t really, I, just go L.T , please” said Johnny as he pulled away, turning away from him, and ghost wanted nothing but hug that man, cut himself open, and let Soap have a place in his own rib age, somewhere no one could ever hurt him.
“Was it about what we said?? About relationship in our line of work?” He tried communicating, and just like that, Soap tensed, jackpot.
“Please, just leave, please” ghost couldn’t leave, he couldn’t leave this man here, like this, how could he ever part from this man, who clearly needed someone.
“Johnny I… I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, but let me understand, tell me” he tried with a soft approach, but he didn’t expect what happened next.
<Sabes bien que te lo advertí
¿Cuántas veces más tendremos que morir?>
“I SAID GO, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY ROOM! LEAVE ME ALONE, LET ME ROT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! GO ON SAY HOW STUPID I AM! GO! GET OUT!” Soap shouted, tears down his face, his features turned into something hurt, and ghost knew at that moment, even with the anger pooling in his gut, that this man, that Soap, that Johnny, was beautiful.
<Debemos controlar la sensibilidad
Tienes tanta vida, ¿para qué llorar?>
“WHY WOULD I EVER DO THAT! DO YOU REALLY THINK I COULD DO THAT TO SOMEONE I LOVE?! DO YOU THINK I WOULD DO THAT TO YOU!? FOR FUCKS SAKES JOHNNY! JUST TALK TO ME!” He said , and fuck.
He just said to this man that he love him.
He was fucked.
——————————————————
Okayyy so this is getting long, so I will definitely do a second part during this week, tell me if it’s something you would like to read!
The title is by “ No soy para ti” by Mon Laferte.
Please leave your comments! They would be very much appreciated!
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childofaura · 2 years ago
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I’m just geniunely curious tho and I don’t want to sound insensitive or bring up bad memories by accident but…
What did Alejandro Saab do that make you dislike him?
No no no, it's not insensitive or anything at all; I've honestly always been vague about it so I really don't blame anyone for wondering why I'm not a fan of him anymore. The sad thing is that I lean more towards being disappointed in him rather than loathing him like Monica Rial or Chris Sabat. So I'll break everything down, but strap into your seats because there's a LOT of context and stuff I have to explain.
But also let me clarify first: I honestly hope people don't feel like they need to stop liking an actor just based on someone else's opinions. I have a very close friend who usually watches English dubs and loves Chris's work as All Might, and if I ever had an opportunity I'd honestly swallow my pride and get in line to get something of hers autographed. So I want other people to know I hold nothing against them liking an actor or their performance, regardless of how I feel.
So to get to the beginning of it, a few years ago there was the whole drama with actors stepping down from roles (or being demanded to step down from roles in some cases) like Cleveland from Family Guy, or Apu from The Simpsons, etc, for not matching the race of the characters they've played. I know it'll stir up some discourse, but I personally believe ANYONE should play ANYONE based on the merits of their voice fitting the character. This is regardless of age, gender, and (the big one) race. Because voice acting was revolutionary in the sense that it does NOT matter what you look like, it matters what you SOUND like. So I honestly don't care about the race or gender or WHATEVER of an actor. Just as long as they sound GOOD.
During this drama, people were using examples of actors playing outside their physical appearance and one of them was Phil Lamarr. And unfortunately, Phil Lamarr went on a mini-tirade on Twitter telling people not to use him as an example of him playing white characters because it wasn't the same (while being not-so-oddly quiet about the fact that he played a Japanese man (Samurai Jack) and a man strongly based in South American culture (Kotal Kahn)), and to "get my fucking name out of your mouth". At which to this tweet, I saw Alejandro Saab tweet in response, "Preach!" Nothing super scandalous or even dickish. That was all he said.
But it was SUPER hypocritical. Because barely even a month earlier, Alejandro Saab released a video on how he was cast to play Leon in the Pokemon anime and how excited he was, which I think was great and I was happy for him! But then here he was, coming in and trying to pretend like he agreed that white actors shouldn't be playing characters of other races.
So I kind of confronted him on that (And sorry, I censored my Twitter because honestly I don't like having a lot of followers on Twitter, I just have it to see my friend's artwork):
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My intention wasn't to pull some kind of "gotcha" on him or gain some kind of clout, but I really wanted him to understand why agreeing with that mentality would just come back to bite him, and a bunch of other actors in the same boat, in the asses.
And unfortunately I only have my tweets, not his, because maybe thirty minutes after I posted that to him, he deleted his tweet. And I didn't want that, either, but after that whole thing happened, I was just incredibly disappointed with him. Again, since he deleted his tweet, I absolutely understand people taking this whole thing with a grain of salt because all I have are MY tweets. But again, it wasn't like he said some horrible thing, it was just hypocritical of him to be cheering for an opinion that should have also applied to him.
So yeah, I kind of ended up losing a lot of respect for him. I still think he's a great and talented actor, but I take that opinion of voice acting (Play whoever you fit as) VERY seriously. I apologize for the big wall of text and I understand it's an issue a lot of people will probably disagree with me for.
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vizthedatum · 1 year ago
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The worst part of neurodivergent-neurodivergent relationships is when we can't see eye-to-eye. Does this happen to other people?
Most of my friends have always been neurodivergent - it took me a long time to notice that my friend group ended up being that way time and time again. It has been a source of comfort... but when we can't see eye-to-eye, it feels so miserable.
And due to my trauma, I'll admit that I've been severely disappointed that people couldn't "just see things from my perspective and how dare they hurt me like that" and stuff. I'm trying to work on that - everyone has their own perspective. At this point in my life, I expect people in my life to work on their empathy, emotional regulation, and clear/transparent communication on their own... and then we can talk about how we feel with each other. I wish more people would step back when they feel the need to be aggressive towards someone they love when they feel so strongly about something.
I expect self-awareness and respect from my friendships. Everyone is going through struggles, but I am DONE being abused even if I did something wrong. I can work on repairing or trying to approach things in a different way, but I also expect better communication and respect.
If you have an issue with me, say it to my face AFTER you make the decision NOT to purposefully tear me down emotionally/physically. I need empathetic conflict resolutions - not full-blown abusive fights.
:/
I lost a friend today. It was a mutual decision towards the end - even though she did break up with me first out of anger. I believe it's because of misaligned expectations - and she went into an emotionally abusive tirade against me. I cannot tolerate any more emotional abuse, especially when it's malicious and aggressive. I, of course, get that people get hurt and disappointed... I think that's different. My past self would have blamed myself a lot and fawned. I wish I did things different - I'm sorry let me fix everything - I'm sorry I couldn't read your mind - I'm horrible. But I wasn't horrible. I did the best I could given that situation. I would have been okay if she could express her anger/frustration/grief/etc. about our situation instead of straight-up insulting my transness, my identity, my friends, my ex-spouse, my partner, etc.
This whole year (as is typical for people trying to heal from narcissistic abuse), I've been reevaluating the connections in my life. I've broken up a lot of friendships because I'm really getting in touch with how I feel/felt and if those friendships were mutually beneficial to our health/life/journey. I can love someone, and they can love me... but that doesn't mean that a friendship or relationship will always work.
I'm learning how to interact with people again while:
unmasking and learning how to embrace my own personal autistic traits in a world that does not cater to those traits
integrating the traumatized parts of myself
learning - I am always learning about the world and about myself
coming out as trans and figuring out what that means to me. I feel like I come out every day now.
fucking up majorly. I am not perfect, and I do mess up. I *have* been the asshole in relationships due to a lack of self-awareness and a lot of ignorance and immaturity. My feelings do get in the way. I can take accountability for that.
I am proud of myself. I know I'm protecting myself. I can see how much I've grown. I deserve friendships where people can communicate and set boundaries accordingly. I get that people disappoint each other. I get that my behavior is disappointing sometimes. I accept that not everyone has to get along - and it doesn't have to be ugly if people don't align.
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moreorlez · 1 year ago
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Avatrice fic: The Second Coming (chapter 6)
Ava and Beatrice spent the rest of the night of their first kiss sharing knowing smiles as they went about their daily activities in their apartment.
When they went to bed, they wished each other good night with a sweet kiss that plastered a smile on their faces until they fell asleep.
...
The next morning, they took advantage of their new access to each other's lips, sharing little kisses whenever they crossed paths.
The walk to work was very enthusiastic and happier than ever. They shared one last kiss before the headquarters came into view and then made their way inside.
Camila was at her usual spot in the middle of the large courtyard when she spotted them. The guilt of what had happened the day before reflected on her features and this time she didn't dare approach the couple.
While Beatrice went to fetch the things she needed for the day's lesson, Ava approaches the young nun.
"Hi." Ava greets casually, hiding a smile.
"Hey," Camila replies, not noticing the amusement in Ava's voice. "You're not mad at me anymore?" She asks insecurely, as she starts her tirade. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, you know how long I've been rooting for both of you to finally get together. I feel really bad, please forgive me." When her desperate plea is met with silence, Camila really looks at Ava's face.
"Well," Ava clears her throat before announcing. "You have nothing to be sorry for and you are absolutely forgiven. Oh, by the way, mission accomplished." She finishes, unable to hide her smile any longer.
Camila is confused at first but quickly realizes what Ava is referring to. "Shut up, are you serious?!" She lets out, and when Ava just nods with a huge beam on her face, Camila squeals. "Oh my God, oh my God!" but then she looks around remembering where she is. "Okay. I need details." She requests eagerly.
Ava, who has been dying to tell her friend everything, takes action. "Okay, wait a second." She quickly trots over to Beatrice. "Hey, Bea."
Beatrice turns to her immediately. "Yes?"
"Do you mind if I skip practice? I want to hang out with Camila today." Ava consults expectantly.
"Oh, if that's what you want, sure." Beatrice doesn't see anything wrong with that.
"Okay!" Ava smiles. "See you at lunch?"
"Of course," Beatrice replies, but before Ava leaves, she calls out. "Ava?"
"Yeah?" Ava looks at Beatrice curiously.
Beatrice studies her expression, looks in Camila's direction, and then speaks in a low voice. "You're going to tell her, aren't you?"
Ava chuckles. "Um, guilty?" She grimaces, hoping not to make Beatrice uncomfortable.
Beatrice rolls her eyes and then gives a slight warning. "Just... don't go into too much detail, okay?"
Ava looks thoughtful for a second to then deliver. "Yeah... I can't promise that."
Before Beatrice can argue, Ava begins her retreat.
"Bye!" Ava waves as she walks away.
Beatrice scoffs, but when Ava is far enough away and distracted by Camila, she smiles to herself. Beatrice is just happy that Ava has someone to share what's going on between them. She secretly wishes the only person she could gush to about it could be here, too.
...
Camila sighs dreamily at the events Ava has just recounted.
Ava is just as enthralled as Camila, so she almost misses the following words.
"And, do you think that maybe soon you two will ... you know?" Camila wiggles her eyebrows for effect.
That really brings Ava out of fantasy land. She stares at Camila with a raised eyebrow, then chuckles. "Are you sure you're a nun?"
Camila rolls her eyes, not feeling an ounce of guilt as she explains. "Yes, that's why I have to live that part of myself through you," is her short explanation.
Ava shakes her head, but she can't deny that she's grateful to have Camila to share all the beautiful things that are happening in her life. "Okay, fair enough." Ava concedes. "So, about your question..." she exhales; her mind is elsewhere for a moment. A few seconds later, she finishes her thoughts. "I honestly don't know. We are just getting started; we are going slow." Then, with conviction in her voice, she adds. "And I don't mind. In fact, I prefer it that way."
"Ugh, so romantic." Camila swoons.
"I know," Ava joins in the swooning.
"But...!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell you, I promise!" Read more...
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selamat-linting · 1 year ago
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what the fuck guys, i just had a dream where i meet an old guy and start making out with him in the desert. okay let me start from the beginning, we were, i guess in a sburb-ish game i think, where if we dont complete it we wont be able to go home, but there's no apocalypse, people just somehow knew what we're doing like the nonhuman characters who guide and watch the beta kids sburb session.
anyway, i think it devolved into some kind of weird factionalism since the players where thousands of ppl at first and ppl were dropping like flies and fighting each other. we were at the final stage of the game. this old guy has his soul split in two so me and my group decided to save him by splitting up to find his respective souls on different planets and guide him to see both of his selves again and reunite. i was accompanied by this one little girl. i think there was a debate over if this was worth the hassle because i remember we were attacked from something that came out of a random portal but i fought them off. and then we both started talking and i bravely put my butt in his lap and started saying how he's worth it just because he's himself and no matter what he does there will be people who is willing to put in the work to love and forgive him even if its difficult. and i dont care that its unfair and maybe even unhealthy because i love him. we love him. and i imply this other guy in our team would be some good for him as a couple because i love this other guy too but feel my parents wouldnt like him so i gave him up. i played with his hair, and the rest was history.
so anyway, after we spent the night together, held back from sex just because sand was everywhere, we finally met up with the other crew (why i was accompanied with a single child to hunt for him while this guy got a contingent of comrades is a mystery) and turns out this other dude that i had a crush on (he was slightly older than me i think) he actually fucked the older man. they went to a snowstorm planet as a five person group to save the man's soul and he actually made the effort to have sex with the guy in a secluded tent. i know this because once the old man fuse, i somehow gain the memory of my friend who fucked him and vice versa. dont ask me why, dream logic. and we both kinda stared in silent horror because we might have to consider polyamory and the hassle of introducing my friend to my parents because my parents does not understand polyamory the way we do and is racist. also we both conveniently remembered the guy we were both fucking has a wife. so we joke about how our life is fucked after winning the game, to the ignorance of our comrades.
anyway, flash forward, we were in a ship to finally do the last step to win and go home, when we realized there is a group of people dressing in white robes trying to do a human sacrifice ritual so their group can win and determine the prize, which now that i think about it, was the chance to built how our god who rules us will be like, would he be kind or rules with iron fist and all that. anyway, we know because one of the guys in that group finally betrayed them and rat them out for us. we all had this messy fight, and i was hurling them to this corner of the ship where i kept screaming that we will not use human sacrifices. i got hurt and fell down and i prayed that someone could finish them. well, the guy who betrayed his fundamentalist cult faction majorly did it, he manage to throw them out of the airlock, but he has his feet majorly burned. i was the one tasked to patch him up. he kept saying he's sorry while we're all huddled in the same small shitty storage room that was supposed to be our transport space ship
so i had this long tirade about how we have principles and we will not make people who made mistakes as expendable or whatever and i guess it digs into a core of my own feelings about religion, that for so long i was confused that themes of love acceptance and peacefulness in major religions are all commonplace but there's always exceptions and that its always reserved for ppl who dont believe, no matter how kind and good they are. there's always a group of demographic singled out to be born just for experiencing eternal torture or a target of justified hate. or how much of the major religion i saw revolved a lot with throwing people under the bus as necessary sacrifice for people in power in the name of faith, sometimes in a direct way, sometimes by asserting that some groups of people are just meant to be inferior or lower in the pecking order and they should have less options and opportunities just because. and that i said to this guy with the burned feet that if we're remaking a god, i want them to be free of that nonsense. anyway, while i was on my dream soapbox, i was gently bandaging this guy's feet in a horny way and tenderly cradling it and smiling at him like i want to add him to the polycule. i dont even have a feet fetish irl.
but worst of all, i dont recognize any faces in that dream. like all of them are strangers to me. but i have weird sexual relationships with at least three of them? wtf???? i have no idea how my dream got so intricate. i remember so much detail because it was so outrageous i HAVE to blog about just as i wake up. omggggg
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gotatext · 2 years ago
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JUDE & DANTE — NIGHT THIRTY.
location :   bean bags.
time :    pre hideaway-text.
description :  dante says oi u kno what jude i’m gonna get to know romi whether u like it or not so crack on with someone else orl ryte ????   tosser !! 😠😠😠  nah just kidding it’s very tame. 
featuring :    dante  /   @graftisms
𝗱𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲 𝗼��𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗮.
"hey, there you are." his smile is tentative as he approaches jude, falling into the beanbag across from him. dante hadn't noticed how little he's interacted with the other bombshell until angel pointed out that he wouldn't be too thrilled to hear about dante cracking on with romi. but he still considers jude a friend, and now that his conversation with jenny is open, making him a one-woman man for romi, it feels like the right time to try to see where the two guys land on each other. "how are you doing today?"     
𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.
honestly, jude could do without this. he'd come to the bean bags to get some fucking peace from everyone, and now fucking dante shows up with the 'how are you doing?' nice guy act? is this dude actually for real, or an industry plant put here to make good television? "how am i doing?" jude asks, crease appearing between his eyebrows as he swills his drink, sitting up on the bean bags. "lets hazard a guess. you set your eyes on romi first day we're in here, romi picks me, you can't have her and go for someone else, and then the second i fuck up— not even a fuck up, more of a slip up— you're fuckin' swooping in like a dickhead superman..." clark cunt, if you will, "to make them fuckin' breakfast and play the hero the day after you fucked jenny?” yeah, he’d heard that. feels like there’s not a single person in the villa who didn’t hear that. “all the while jenny’s what, twiddling her thumbs waiting for you to give her the time of day? i’m not one to talk, but dick move, dude.”
𝗱𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗮.
okay, so jude is upset. after having to deal with jenny upset moments before, this isn't exactly fun for him, now seeing someone he had considered a friend lash out at him. there's a frown on his face while jude is barely into his tirade, and there's a lot that he says that dante doesn't agree with, but he'll let jude finish what he's saying before interrupting. "jenny and i are not getting to know each other anymore," he tells her, not sounding particularly happy about it. he's still not pleased how it went down. "we were always keeping our options open, and she told me yesterday she wanted to get to know you, and i wanted to see if romi would be open to getting to know me, yes. i'm sorry if i did something to upset you, but... romi told me you two were done for good. i would not have done anything otherwise. i did not mean to hurt your feelings."
𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.
jenny and i are not getting to know each other any more.  he says it with such finality, the same decisiveness that his mum would have when she’d tell him she’d sell the ps2 if he didn’t get off his arse and do the dishes. maybe it’s the english second language thing, but the way dante speaks makes everything sound more intense than it is. there’s no fucking about, all facts no filler.  “did you decide that or did she?”  so what? now they’re just not gonna speak to each other? sounds pretty fucking complicated, especially if romi ends up bringing this guy back. “done for good? that’s so insane. we’ve known each other two days and i kissed someone in a challenge, it’s literally… whatever, i don’t want to talk about it.” jude sucks in a breath, foot tapping restlessly against the ground. he hates that this conversation is happening on the fucking bean bags for crying out loud. “look, it’s not your fault if romi thinks you guys have a better connection.” because looking at it, jude’s pretty sure they don’t. “i don’t wanna get into some fucking soap opera because things with us didn’t work out. but do you not think it’s a bit weird if you now start gunning for romi and i go for jenny. what is this, fucking wife swap? jesus.”
𝗱𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗮.
"we both decided we were keeping our options open, but i told her i want to focus on romi, yes." he doesn't mind any questions jude asks, knowing it's preferable to him yelling at dante, or worse, ignoring him. "i don't know," he shrugs his shoulders, also not wanting to speak about romi ending things with jude. if he thinks too hard about it, it'll make him feel bad for picking up where jude left off. that's the name of the game though, isn't it? "wife swap?" he laughs, not understanding the reference—but y'know, getting the gist of it. "i don't know. i think if you and jenny are happy, and romi and i are happy, then it shouldn't matter, no? we can all be friends." at least that's what dante would like to believe. jury's still out on romi and jude ever becoming friends. "you should talk to jenny. i know she likes you."
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cjsmalley · 9 months ago
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The Aftermath:
It was surely the apocalypse.
It had to be.
For there was Adrien Fenton (formerly Agreste) and Marinette Dupain-Cheng…cuddling.
Canoodling.
Talking normally as they seemingly tried to casually meld into one person.
There! He had his arm around her waist! And she wasn’t self-combusting from his attention!
There! She was talking—without a stutter or blush!—and he was nodding along and responding as if this was all normal behavior.
There! She giggled, a real, unembarrassed giggle and he beamed, kissing her cheek and flirting as easily as breathing.
“What in the world?” Ayla muttered, eyes narrowed.
“Did…did we wake up in a different universe?” Nino asked.
“Has he said anything to you?” Ayla demanded of her boyfriend as they watched Adrien nuzzle Marinette.
“No! She say anything?”
“If she did I wouldn’t be so freaked out, would I?” Ayla hissed.
“Dudes,” Nino called out to the—couple?
“What the hell?” Ayla demanded as they came closer.
The two of them shared soft, loving smiles before Marinette exclaimed happily, “Adrien and I are dating!”
Pin drop. Record scratch.
Chloe fainted dead away, onto Sabrina who valiantly struggled to lower her slowly.
Then came the cheers as money exchanged hands and an impromptu party erupted in the halls.
“Wha—” Marinette’s jaw dropped at the antics of her schoolmates.
Ayla bounced forward to hug them both then noticed something on Marinette’s hand, “Holy—is that an engagement ring?!”
Again, everyone froze with bated breath.
Marinette flushed bring red but smiled, “No, it’s a promise ring.”
“I went to my Papa’s jeweler to have it made,” Adrien gently took his lady’s hand and lifted it up, “turns out Papa already had ordered the setting—silver’s very important to my new family—I just had to pick out the gems. I decided to match her earrings so ruby and onyx.”
Girls converged on Marinette, even the now revived Chloe, to ooh and ahh over the ring.
Adrien wisely stepped aside.
“So, your—ah—parents are okay with you dating Mari,” Nino questioned quietly.
“Yes. They just met her—they came in for a visit this weekend after the last akuma—and they adore her. But,” he flushed, “apparently, how I talked about her…well…”
Nino laughed; he had sat through enough lovesick lectures on the subject to understand the Fentons’ knowing.
Chloe was studying the ring intensely; she pouted, “Adrikins. If you had wanted a ring for her then we could have gone to—”
“Sorry, Chloe. Papa’s under contract with Mr. Smith,” Adrien called, “very bad penalties if he goes anywhere else for any jewelry.”
“Well,” Chloe considered, “it’s no Cartier but I guess it’s good enough. Dupain-Cheng, if you break his heart I. Will. Ruin. You. Got it?”
Marinette smiled softly, “I understand, Chloe. Thank you for the warning.”
“Sabrina! Schedule a spa day for the three of us!” Chloe barked to her assistant-friend.
“Wha—”
“Keep up DC,” Chloe flipped her hair, “you’re dating my Adrikins. We must…bond. Urgh. I’ll have someone pick you up from the bakery.”
“I guess,” Marinette agreed hesitantly. Adrien beamed. Chloe was doing so good at being nicer!
“Sabrina!”
“Yes, Chloe. Right away.”
The blonde huffed again, rolling her eyes, “and DC? If you show up in anything less than your best, I will personally take you shopping,” she made it sound like a threat, “Adrikins may not be an Agreste anymore but from what I hear his new family is wealthy too. There are standards. I understand you may not be as…well off as us…furthermore, I demand a new MDC original and I will be paying what you deserve for your…urgh, talent. Sabrina!”
Sabrina nodded and texted Chloe’s measurements to the confused designer.
“Do not try to give me a discount, DC,” Chloe growled, “I know what high fashion is worth. I will pay triple what it’s worth if you push me. Sabrina, write that down.”
With that, the blonde stalked off, Sabrina following.
“Good job, Chloe!” Adrien praised her retreating back.
Marinette blinked, still dazed after Chloe’s little tirade.
“Adrien,” Ayla gained his attention and leaned up to his ear, “If you hurt her, I’ll neuter you. Noir or not. Chloe’s not the only one with connections.
“Yes, Ayla,” he replied obediently.
Wished Away 8:
“Mom, Dad, help,” Dean said, holding a baby out.
A whirlwind of activity followed.
“He is Nephilim,” Castiel declared, having inspected the boy, “though I cannot tell his true parentage. It is being…hidden from me.”
The pediatricians took over as soon as the angel stepped back.
“Nephilim,” Danny said slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “isn’t that half-angel or something?”
“Precisely,” Castiel said just as slowly, measuring his words like they were his last rations, “They are…it is Forbidden for angels to lay with mortals. The creation of Nephilim is even more taboo as the first, the original, were monsters more often than not. It is an intentional act, to create Nephilim; the angelic parent must give a portion of their own Grace to the child during conception.”
“So they purposely knocked someone up then ding-dong ditched the kid,” Dean growled.
“Perhaps they heard that we are romantically involved, Dean,” Castiel offered, “and hoped we would take in the child as our own.”
“Well, of course we are,” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes at his angel who shook his head fondly, “I’ve already picked out a name too. A good human name.”
“Oh?”
“Jack, after Grandpa Jack. Unless, you have a name?”
“Perhaps…James, after James Novak?”
“Hmm…Jack James…James Jack…JJ…no, definitely Jack James. I like it, Cas.”
“Well, little Jack is healthy as far as we can tell,” Doctor Peterson joined the little huddle, “every scan we can perform came up normal, perfectly within range for his age group.”
Both Dean and Castiel visibly relaxed.
“We’ll get you set up,” Sam promised her son and might-as-well-be son-in-law.
A servant brought David’s old wrap and Sam showed Dean and Castiel how to wind it around their bodies to carry little Jack close to their hearts.
“Does the heart even beat?” Danny asked Castiel with interest, referring to his Vessel.
“Yes, I have kept all systems functioning as intended,” Castiel confirmed.
“Good. Because babies this young are used to heartbeats,” Danny explained as Sam worked with Dean, “they just spent nine months with their mom’s in their ears.”
“I see,” Castiel nodded, “well, Dean has assured me that I have a perfectly human sounding heartbeat.”
“What’s the likelihood that his mom was the human?” Danny asked next.
“Oh, quite likely…angels with female vessels most often shutdown the reproductive system. It would also be quite hard to hide the evidence of the gestating Nephilim. His mother likely died in childbirth; her body finally unable to handle his Angelic self.”
Danny winced; that would be a horrid way to die and he fried like a French fry.
Within hours, little Jack was all ready to go home.
Over the next few days, a room in the Bunker became a nursery and supplies loaded in.
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antique-traveler · 3 years ago
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snips and snails
alright this gave me way more trouble than i thought it would but here's the tdov ficlet that @shen-hongzi-backup requested! (of course the trek episode they're watching is s5e17 "The Outcast", what else would it be?) also this blog believes in he/him foggy x he/they matt supremacy
Something something Matt being wholesome to Foggy about their dysphoria. Bonus if Matt is nonbinary because what the heck is gender i can't see it anyway
1.5k, G, mattfoggy (ftm!foggy, nonbinary!matt) on ao3
“New guy at the barbershop today was an asshole. I’m gonna call it an early night. Love you.” The text-to-speech voice from Matt’s phone was robotic and clinical as it read Foggy’s text from across the room. Matt paused, halfway into his Daredevil suit, and strode over to his bed to pick up his phone.
“Call Foggy,” he said, setting down his gloves and furrowing his brow.
“Hey, Matty,” Foggy’s voice through the receiver was timid and dejected, obviously not in the mood for any kind of bright greeting.
“Hey, I got your text,” Matt said cautiously. “What happened?”
Foggy sighed and the sound of creaking leather clued Matt in that Foggy had just fallen onto his leather armchair. “I went in for a haircut today, I just needed to trim off some split ends and shit, but there was a barber there I hadn’t seen before. Some old guy who looked like he used to give guys buzz cuts before they shipped off to Vietnam. Anyway, he went on this whole rant about how my hair was ‘too girly’ and ‘made my face look so feminine’. He ended up cutting, like, two inches off my hair and it just… the whole thing sucks and I just wanna forget it happened.”
Matt swallowed and curled his free hand into a fist “Shit, Fogs, I’m sorry that happened. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Foggy said, trailing off slightly. “Feel pretty shitty at the moment, but I probably just need to sleep it off, you know?” There was a heavy silence between them before Foggy continued, “You going out tonight?”
Matt bit his lip and thought for a moment. Focusing his senses, he could hear the entire neighborhood. The Kitchen was quiet tonight, peaceful. Across the street, a baby just said his first word, a few blocks away, a woman just proposed to her girlfriend, and further than that, someone just made it through the piano piece they were learning without making a single mistake. Daredevil could take a night off, he needed to be with Foggy tonight. Matt cleared his throat, “No, no, the city’s pretty quiet tonight. How about I come over? We can put on some Trek and order a pizza.”
“Matty, you don’t have to–”
“Fogs, I want to. You had a bad day, and I wanna be here for you. Isn’t that, like, the whole point of being your boyfriend?” Matt felt childish to admit it even to himself, but saying the word “boyfriend” still gave him butterflies sometimes, even after however many months he and Foggy had been together.
Foggy’s sigh had a little bit of a laugh in it, and Matt knew he had won. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Murdock. You want Deep Space 9 or The Next Generation?”
“Dealer’s choice,” Matt said, starting to unzip the Daredevil suit. “See you in five. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Foggy echoed, before hanging up the phone with a click.
Matt had known that Foggy was transgender since a few days after they met. He’d bumped into the sharps container for the needles that Foggy used for his testosterone injections, and Foggy had laid it all out for him the second Matt asked about it. He had been matter-of-fact, clinical in describing it at first, as if the slightest emotion in his voice might send Matt on a bigoted tirade. He supposed that Foggy had been justified in his wariness of how Matt might react, Matt would be the first to admit he’d led a pretty sheltered life in some regards, and he didn’t think he’d ever consciously met another transgender person before Foggy. All that being said, though, Matt still read the news. He still knew what it meant to be transgender, and he wasn’t about to ask for a room change just because he’s roommate’s body was a little different than his.
Since then, Matt had been through it all with Foggy. He stood up to relatives who still called Foggy “she” at Christmas, he taught him how to shave, he stayed with Foggy through his entire recovery after his top surgery. It had been amazing, watching Foggy slowly become more and more himself with each year they shared together. Foggy’s face still heated up whenever Matt called him his boyfriend, and Matt loved the feeling of Foggy’s perfect parallel scars beneath his fingers.
Matt knocked on Foggy’s door with his left hand, while his right held his cane and a sweatshirt of his for Foggy to borrow. Foggy always loved wearing Matt’s clothes, especially when he was in a bad mood, so Matt figured he’d just go ahead and bring something with him before Foggy got a chance to steal the shirt off his back.
Foggy quietly opened the door and Matt flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Hey, handsome,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss.
Foggy chuckled lightly as he let Matt in, “You know, that might’ve cheered me up a little if you could actually see me.”
“I’m pretty sure it did cheer you up, actually,” Matt said, noting the slightest acceleration in Foggy’s heartbeat.
Foggy scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, heartbeat bullshit, whatever. You go sit down, I’m gonna get a pizza.”
Before turning towards the couch, Matt extended the sweatshirt in his hand towards Foggy. “Here,” he said, “for you.”
Foggy took it from Matt’s hand and was quiet for a second before letting out a small “thank you.” Matt leaned forward for another light kiss, then folded up his cane and made himself comfortable on the couch.
The next half hour was slow and easy. Foggy was tucked into Matt’s side wrapped in his sweatshirt, and the heavy weight of the pizza in Matt’s stomach combined with the quiet dialogue of the Star Trek episode on Foggy’s TV made him feel lethargic and content.
“You are male,” said one of the aliens on the screen. “Tell me about males. What is it that makes you different from females?”
Foggy hummed contentedly from below Matt’s chin. They’d rewatched this show so many times that Matt practically had all of Foggy’s narrations memorized, so Matt had just told him to take it easy tonight and not worry about narrating. Matt chewed on his lip and let himself get lost in thought. A couple of months prior, Foggy had managed to convince Matt to go to Pride, after weeks of hounding and bargaining and pleading. They had gone early in the morning, when there were sure to be thinner crowds and at least slightly less noise. Foggy had been shirtless, proudly showing off his top surgery scars, and Matt had a single rubber bracelet around his wrist in pink, purple, and blue.
They had met so many people there from every corner of the community, and Matt had left with a small collection of every braille pamphlet he came across, just to show the people who had bothered to print them that it was worth it. Among the pamphlets on intersectionality and drag history and lesbian art, there was one that Matt found himself rereading for weeks: Beyond Ones and Zeros: Decoding the Myth of the Gender Binary. It was overly verbose and used objectively too many coding puns, but Matt couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d always known to some extent that he had trouble connecting with other men most of the time. He found that he just… didn’t quite understand how they operated. Sure, he’d never been particularly interested in sports or cars, but he also didn’t understand what put him in the category of “man”, beyond his chromosomes and whatnot.
Meeting Foggy had been what clued him in to that disconnect, but that pamphlet had been what really sent him spiraling. It talked about the origins of the modern day gender binary, its fallacies and double standards, the existence of life outside of just “man” or “woman”, and Matt felt himself relax a little bit into its words. Matt felt Foggy’s weight next to him on the couch, and heard the crew of the Enterprise discuss the genderless society they were working with, and made a decision.
“Hey, Foggy?” he said, squeezing Foggy’s arm a little bit to get his attention. Foggy made a quizzical little noise and Matt took a deep breath. “What would you think about using they/them pronouns for me, just sometimes?”
There was silence for a moment before Foggy shifted to look at Matt, and the sound of lips sliding against his teeth said that he was smiling brightly. “I’d love to, Matty. Thank you for telling me.”
Matt shrugged. “I haven’t really told you anything,” they deflected. “Just trying something out.” Their heart was pounding in their chest, and they knew that they were blushing, but they couldn’t quite find it in themself to be embarrassed.
“Well,” Foggy countered, “thank you for ‘trying it out’, then. I’m proud of you.”
Matt smiled, warmth filling their whole body, and they leaned in for a kiss. Foggy met them with a smile, cradling Matt’s head in his hands and humming into their mouth. If this was what it took to make Foggy feel better, then Matt was willing to do it every damn time they came over.
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writer-in-theory · 2 years ago
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Same anon from the last Eddie and Steve hc
I feel like in the beginning, instead of opening up to Billy, Steve rather snaps at him.
I think you said that or another amazing writer, but as seen in S4, it's his defense mechanism as a former queen bee.
So when Steve hits a rough patch, Billy is there for him instantly. And he like sublty tries to tell him, that he is there for Steve, when he wants to talk about how he feels.
Steve instantly goes into defense mode, bc he doesn't want his current reputation to be undermined. He knows, that Billy doesn't want to do shit like that, bc he doesn't care about Steve's status in the public one bit, and Steve knows that too. It's just an immediate reaction, a reflex
So he snaps at Billy, trying to make him go away. To keep his distance, to keep face
And to Steve's horror and relief, Billy stays. He isn't phased a single bit by anything Steve says. And after Steve ends his tirade, Billy just looks at him calmly, waiting for Steve to catch his breath until he says "There really isn't anything you can say to me, that would hurt. I heard them all already"
And Steve's heart just shatters, bc damn, he really took the diva out and went off on one of the only people, who loves him
After his outburst, there is a long night of talking, reassuring and apologies for both of them (and a ton of cuddling, I'm sorry but I can't let this stand there without any comfort)
waiiitt nonnie you’re like my favorite person right now bc this hurts a lot for a friday morning but you’re so right and you’re really making me think so keep saying it
i know personally i either completely shut down or i lash out and go for where it hurts. and like, i could see both reactions from steve. like at first being quiet about it and then at some point lashing out like you said
and we all know diva bitchy steve exists. we heard him talk to jonathan and ofc that’s different but that kind of thing doesn’t fully disappear. billy is good at hurting with his fists but steve knows how to absolutely destroy someone with his words.
and he knows what hurts billy, ofc he does bc i also imagine after they get close billy has no problem talking about shit in his life. hell, he’s probably been wishing to have a guy like steve around who cares enough about him to want to hear any of it. i mean that boy was crying all through season three BEGGING to be asked. like he tells steve everything once that trust is there so he assumes steve is the same way
and then steve is telling billy doesn’t want him around if he’s gonna keep prying into stuff that isn’t his business, that he doesn’t need to be coddled like he does, that just bc billy shoves his shit onto other people doesn’t mean steve wants to.
and you’re so right, steve is absolutely horrified by it bc he doesn’t mean any of that at all. and there are times where he sees that part of himself and he really hates it, so he hates that billy was on the receiving side of that.
so yeah you’re so right that there would be a long night of talking and cuddling. billy would figure out to not always ask verbally but just be there in support when steve is ready, and steve would have to learn to know when to walk away and come back when he’s less overwhelmed. but so many cuddles. and so many reassurances that they do need each other and this is right and perfect
anyway long way of saying i love your mind nonnie
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writingquestionsanswered · 2 years ago
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Yesterday, I got pretty upset about something here on the blog.
I had spent some time answering an ask only to discover I'd misunderstood the question. Someone went on a bit of a tirade in the comments about how the question asked one thing, but my answer focused too much on another thing, and I lost my shit. :(
I think what upset me was the attitude of the person in the comments. They seemed livid that the answer wasn't what they thought it should be. Their words oozed with entitlement, as if they or Anon had paid me for my time and I'd delivered an inferior product. But I'm not being paid. And I didn't misunderstand the question out of malice. The commenter's anger was unwarranted. Is it so hard to just say, "Hey! I think Anon meant..." ?
This happens rarely. Most of you are super kind and supportive. Still, I wanted to put out a reminder that people like me volunteer our personal time because we want to support you on your writing journey. So, if we misunderstand a question or request, please be kind.
For the record, the OP was kind. They reached out and politely clarified their question. Unfortunately, I saw the other person's comments before I saw the clarification and was already upset. So, to Anon, I'm sorry your question got bulldozed by an unrelated angry person. I wasn't upset with you. ♥
Anyway, that's all. Back to our regularly scheduled program.
Thank you for being here and for understanding that I'm a person, too, and sometimes I have bad days.
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ophelia-writes · 3 years ago
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invisible - scaramouche x reader (part 2)
you can read part one here
warnings: mild language
life as a fatui agent wasn’t as interesting as it might sound. sure, there were debt collections and the occasional mission, but, to be honest, you mostly just handled paperwork. still, you always found yourself enjoying your work— especially after you found yourself stupidly infatuated with your cruel, beautiful boss.
scaramouche had been speaking to you a bit more since the mission, sometimes bringing his paperwork to you directly, or occasionally asking you to supervise the lower-level agents while he was away on business. you knew it probably meant nothing, after all, you were just good at your job. it was only natural that he would want to give you a few extra responsibilities. however, that didn’t stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of him while you were bored at your desk, or before you drifted off to sleep.
but you couldn’t allow yourself to have those thoughts. you hated yourself for having a stupid crush on him— he was wicked, and selfish, and sadistic. at least, that’s what people said. but what about that moment back when the two of you had been attacked by treasure hoarders? he hadn’t seemed too terribly cruel then.
you sighed, signing your name at the end of another tedious document. the workday was almost over, surely you could make it through another thirty minutes of boredom without wanting to kill yourself. you scribbled away at your work, checking the clock every few minutes in anticipation, until…
“ugh, finally!” you slid the papers into a neat pile and practically raced for the door, grabbing your coat and weapon on the way out. you were in such a rush that you weren’t paying any attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t notice the man right around the corner.
“ugh, what the hell, dumbass! do you have a death wish? watch where you’re—” your eyes widened when you saw the person who had been berating you. oh god, you were so screwed.
“o-oh, mr. scaramouche! i’m so sorry, i was just in a hurry, i shouldn’t have been so careless!” you internally cringed at your groveling, hating that you had to reduce yourself to this in front of him of all people. but your self preservation skills had kicked in, and you knew scaramouche was not known for being forgiving.
but when he noticed who you were, he stopped his little tirade and started… smiling? slowly, he rose from the floor, brushing himself off before reaching out his hand.
you were getting major deja vu right now.
you hesitantly took his outstretched hand, and he pulled you to your feet. the two of you shared a small look, his pale purple eyes boring into you. then, he let out a small sigh. “you sure are clumsy, you know that?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. you felt your face flush, and you didn’t really know how to respond. honestly, the fact that he hadn’t killed you yet was a miracle.
“yeah, i guess i am…” you looked down at the floor. “i— why aren’t you mad?” you blurted out, regretting it almost immediately.
scaramouche cocked an eyebrow. “who says i’m not mad?”
oh dear. there was still time for him to murder you yet. “i-i just meant— i mean, people always say you’re this horribly guy, who, like, murders his underlings over the stupidest of things, you know?” wow, you just had to open your big mouth again, didn’t you? you were so nervous that you didn’t notice the little smile playing at scaramouche’s lips. “that’s not what i meant! i just… i should probably stop talking, shouldn’t i?”
scaramouche was struggling to hold back a laugh. “yes, you probably should,” he replied, pretending like he wasn’t enjoying the flustered look on your face. “i will admit, i am known for losing my temper. but it would be foolish of me to kill off such a talented agent over something as trivial as this.”
you couldn’t help but blush a bit at his comment. that wasn’t the first time he had paid you a compliment, either, and you found yourself unable to control your heartbeat when you finally looked him in the eye again. “so…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.
“so,” he began, leaning in until your faces were merely inches apart, “maybe i should bring you on missions with me more often. i could use someone with your… courage. as long as you promise to try not to fall on the ground as much.”
your face went completely red. you were trying your best to remain composed, but you were probably failing miserably. “i-i think i could do that,” you said, giving him a little nod. he grinned.
“good.” the minute scaramouche stepped back, you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding. “i’ll see you tomorrow. don’t be late,” he said, rounding the corner and returning to his office.
you stood there for nearly ten minutes, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. your heart was racing, and you could barely even feel your face anymore. you honestly had no idea what you were feeling…. but one thing was for sure— you definitely weren’t invisible anymore.
ok i’m not completely happy with how this turned out but it’s fine! i’ll live with it lol. people seemed interested in a part two so i delivered! don’t know if i’ll ever add more to this particular fic but i’ll probably do more scara fics in the future, i love the short angry hat man. thanks for reading!
taglist: @kazuhasbiggestsimp @mrsugawara
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